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Hello everyone, This is the first chapter of my latest story. This is currently being published chapter by chapter on my Patreon and will be available in its entirety later this year. You can find the latest chapters at patreon.com/alex_bridges. All characters are 18+ Chapter 1 It’s not like I did it on purpose. I’m not sorry, but it’s not like I did it on purpose. I babysit three times a week on average, more like five times in the summer. I want to pay for as much of college as I can in cash, and childcare pays better than retail or waiting tables. Especially now that schools keep opening and closing, parents are desperate for a night away. For me, an opportunity to make more money, which I need. I’m not going to risk my reputation as the best sitter in town just because of a little mix up. “Hi, Mrs. Rooney,” I said when she opened the door. “Hi, Sally. Come on in. Thanks for coming over on short notice.” I followed her into her kitchen; the Rooneys always have good stuff in the fridge. I didn’t get where I am as a sitter by abusing fridge privileges, but I don’t pass up the benefit either. She was dressed to the nines. I never asked, but it always seemed like she and Mr. Rooney must be going someplace expensive. Just based on their house alone, they must be one of the richer families I sit for. They’re not wealthy, but they got the upper-middle-class thing down pat. Literally the only people I know whose entryway it an actual room. “Always happy to when I can,” I replied, “I like Jamie and Jackie.” Well behaved kids, easy to get along with. “O, they’re both at friends’ houses tonight. It’ll just be you and Gordy tonight. Is that okay?” Like I couldn’t tell this ‘misunderstanding’ was totally on purpose. She had this guilty, pleading look on her face, but that was so beside the point. “Gordon? Really?” I knew Gordon. More specifically, I’ve known him since kindergarten, which would make fourteen years we’ve known each other. We graduated a little over year ago in the same class; we were even in the same twelfth grade homeroom, and now we’re both sophomores townies at the same college. I’ve sat for the Rooneys more than a few times, and Gordon was, obviously, never one of my charges. I just figured that was because he was the same age as me. Come to think of it, he was never even home when I sat for the kids because if he was, why would they need me to watch the kids? “I wouldn’t ask. Normally he spends the night at my sister’s or a friend’s house when you’re over, but he can’t tonight.” Like, but he’s … “But why does he need a sitter? He’s twenty. He’s, like, a month older than me, right?” And I’m also twenty. “Yes, but I don’t like leaving him alone if it can be helped.” “O … kay. So we’ll just watch a movie, I guess.” Get paid a hundred bucks to watch a movie with one of my peers? Weird, but fine by me. We’re not friends exactly, but we’re friendly. We were sorta friends when we were younger, but less so once we got to middle school. Gordon’s not exactly Mister Popular. Everyone’s nice to him, though, and he seems nice enough too. Just … different crowds. “Not exactly. I can explain fast, but we’re running late.” “That’s fine. I’ll stay.” “O, thank you. We just really need a night out, and since he got in trouble on campus today, he’s not allowed to go to his friend’s house and my sister already had plans and …” Didn’t really need her life story. “Whatever. It’s fine. Just tell me what’s up,” I said with a dab of false cheer to cover my WTF. She’s running late; I’m getting paid whether she tells me all this other stuff or not, so hey, let’s skip to the part I need to know, right? “Gordy,” Mrs. Rooney said, “come sit at the table with us. I want you to hear all of this so you can’t say you didn’t know later.” I followed her eyes, and color me surprised to see Gordon – Gordy at home, apparently; he always hated being called that in school – standing in the corner in his pajamas at six o’clock. I know the difference between lazy around-the-house-clothes and jammies, and those were definitely jammies. He shuffled over blushing all the way to his ears as he kept his eyes pointed at the floor. We all took a seat at the table. I couldn’t tell if he as about to cry, tantrum, or both, and I wouldn’t blame him if he did. If I were him, I’d probably have broken something and peeled out of the driveway while flipping the bird. I mean, we’re not kids. We’re not even teenagers. We’re way too old for a babysitter by about eight years. “First off,” Mrs. Rooney said, “do you know about Gordy’s issue?” “His diapers? Yeah.” Like he could keep that a secret for since literally the entire time I’d known him. No one made fun of him for it, not in a long time. Kindergarten and maybe first grade a little, but even in kindergarten it quickly became normal: our class had a kid in diapers. An adult in diapers now. And he’s not on the spectrum or delayed or anything. I don’t know what the issue is cuz it’s none of my business, but he’s always been in diapers, at least so far as I know. You’d have to be dense to have not figured it out within the first week of kindergarten. And if even if you were dense, when we got to middle school and had to change for gym, I think they let him change in a private stall or something, but you could totally hear him crinkling through those shorts. And no one teased him. Gordon wears diapers, always has; he went to the nurse a couple times a day, and we all knew why. If anything, people in school were kind of protective of him even though he didn’t need it. I even heard a rumor that when a new kid asked about it in tenth grade, the biggest bully in our class hauled off and punched him just to make it perfectly clear no one bullies Gordon. “You’ll need to check and change him tonight.” Just when I thought Gordon – well, when in Rome – Gordy couldn’t bow his head any lower. “Uh, he doesn’t do that himself? Or can’t he?” You don’t get to be the most sought-after babysitter in town by being squeamish about changing diapers, but one fact I do know: toddlers make bigger messes than newborns, and twenty-year-old Gordy has about a hundred and five pounds on the average two-year-old. Though come to think of it, I didn’t know if Gordy needed diapers for that or just for wetting accidents. In the brief second I had to consider that, it occurred to me even a toddler who still has wetting accidents is usually in a pull-up, not a full blown diaper. Our school’s gym shorts covered everything, but there was no mistaking Gordy’s underpants for a pull-up. He wears diapers. “Gordy got a diaper rash last week. If he wants the privilege of changing his own diapers, he needs to be responsible about it, which means no rashes. I’m sorry to even ask you to change him, but I like to be very consistent with the rules, and the rule is if he gets a diaper rash, no changing his own diapers for a month.” Not surprised exactly. She’s one of the stricter parents I sat for. So yeah, she’s his stepmom, but she’s not really an evil stepmom. She’s just a stickler for rules. I was afraid to ask this and very sorry to have to ask it in front of Gordy, poor little guy, but I had to. “Um, does he … both ways?” I guess I could’ve asked him, but he seemed like he’d rather have a hole swallow him than answer any questions. “He doesn’t usually have a dirty diaper in the evening.” “Still …” “Two hundred for the night,” Mrs. Rooney said before I could finish the sentence we both knew I was in the middle of saying. “Two-fifty.” Hey, I’m not one to miss an opportunity. Do you know what books cost for just one semester? “Done.” “Sorry,” I said under my breath to Gordy. I felt bad enough for him that she was making him have a sitter, but how much worse for him to hear what it costs to get someone to look after him, which he doesn’t want anyway, and pretty obvious why anyone would want extra to sit for him. So yes, I felt bad for him, but it’s just … the ‘usually’ in ‘doesn’t usually have a dirty diaper in the evening’ sorta stands out like sore thumb in that sentence, right? It would if you were me, and I am me. “And another thing,” Mrs. Rooney said. “Mommmm,” he whined. A little spark of rebellion flashed in his eyes. I didn’t know about what, but that’s what you expect from someone his age. I guess I understand if life’s circumstances made him a little more likely to give in than lash out even when any of the boys we graduated with most of the girls would’ve told their stepmom where to go by now. “Gordon, last warning.” I looked from her to him, and that little spark turned into a little water, and he looked back down at the table. “As I was saying, Gordon got in trouble on campus today and is grounded, so he’s not spending the night at a friend’s like he normally does. Why don’t you tell the story, Gordy, since you think you’re old enough to say anything you want?” Did I say ‘stepmom’, cuz I meant ‘bitch.’ And Mrs. Rooney is not normally a bitch, so that got me more than a little curious what exactly he’d done to piss her off so mightily. On top of which, it’s not exactly easy to get in trouble on campus. I mean, we’re adults. You can do some seriously stupid stuff on campus without getting in trouble. He sighed and answered, “I called called someone … a name.” “The ‘C’ word,” his stepmom clarified. Or should I say his very reasonable, no more pissed off than she had a right to be (but could still be a whole lot more chill and even more thoughtful) stepmom clarified. “Gordy actually called a woman the ‘C’ word.” “But she …” Gordy tried to defend his actions. “I know what she said, and you had every right to be angry with her, but that is not how you talk to or about women. You know that, and losing your temper is not an excuse for using a slur.” She turned back to me. “I already washed his mouth out, but that language also earned him a bedtime spanking.” “A sp … O … kay.” Of all the ways my day could’ve gone, didn’t see this one coming. Like, at all. I personally never got why some parents get so bent out of shape about bad words (how bad can they be when you can turn on network TV and hear most of them?), and I didn’t really get why she cared given that – did I mention it six times already? – Gordy is twenty years old. On the other hand … now I understood why Mrs. Rooney was taking it so seriously. It’s not that big a deal if you think of the ‘C’ word as a swear, but if you think of it as a slur, yeah, much bigger deal. I guess it depends on how you use it, cuz I could see how it could be a slur, but I’ve always thought of it more as a swear. Not that my opinion meant anything in the circumstances. I’m the babysitter – I literally just work here. “I’m too old,” Gordy interjected probably (more like definitely) more loudly than someone in his position should’ve. I mean, I agree with him, but he still should’ve just kept quiet. There’s standing up for yourself, and then there’s digging the hole deeper. If she had already washed his mouth out (ick!), not let him go out with friends, and hired a sitter for him, I couldn’t imagine any argument, not matter how obviously valid, changing her mind. Mrs. Rooney is a fit woman; I’ve seen her play a heckuva game of tennis at the club, so not a surprise she could be on her feet and have her stepson by the ear so damn fast. Gordy’s not the first kid I’ve gone to babysit and found standing in a timeout; or the first kid I’ve gone to sit and seen spank-marched to the nearest corner for corner time; or even the first kid I’ve sat for who earned a spanking on my watch. But he was the first kid I’ve sat for who wasn’t, ya know, an actual kid. He may have crinkled all the way to the corner; he may have eeped a little when she tugged his ear; he may have tried to get out of the way of her hand as she delivered those underhand spanks; and he may even be kinda cute in a boyish kind of way, but definitely an adult. One whose birthday actually comes before mine. Diapered or not, adult. “Not another word,” Mrs. Rooney warned him, “or I’ll take your pants down right here. You just stand there and listen.” And damn did she mean it, even in evening wear. That tone? Enough to make me almost jump out of my chair to find my own corner and listen. “Are we ready, honey,” Mr. Rooney asked as he appeared from somewhere. Not that I wanna be that babysitter, but Mr. Rooney can take me anywhere so long as he’s wearing his tux. Shawl collar? Makes him seem even taller. No mistaking him for your waiter. And who even goes places that are black tie? “Just a minute,” Mrs. Rooney replied and picked up the pace; they probably had a reservation at one of those places you have to reserve six months ahead of time. Anyway, she continued quickly with, “He takes a bath on Fridays, not a shower. When he gets out of the bath, please give him his spanking. His diaper comes down, and he goes over your knee. He knows where to the hairbrush is. Then it’s straight to bed. Lights out at 9:30. That means no dawdling in the tub, Gordy. Out at 9:15. Understood?” He either understood or he didn’t want to risk saying anything he had every right to say but shouldn’t unless he wanted two spankings in one day. “Any questions,” she asked me. “So … on his … bare?” “Have you ever given a spanking before?” “Yeah … Well, a swat on their reset button,” I said, oddly embarrassed. I mean, most parents don’t even spank anymore, let alone allow – let alone ask! – a sitter to do it. I’ve tapped a tantruming toddler on the bottom before, but that’s not even a spanking. “Are you okay doing it? I wouldn’t ask, but the rule is a bedtime spanking. It’s best for them to get their consequence as soon as possible, and Gordy really needs the structure.” I guess that was all Gordy could take. “But she can’t! She’s the same age as me!” There was silence as Mrs. Rooney turned and looked at him like he was out of his mind. I thought he was in his exact right mind, but if I had to live with her, always strict like she is and and just then downright exuding this weird kind of determined, calm-but-pissed-off vibe she was giving off, I think I’d have kept my mouth shut. I think he realized that too cuz he didn’t say anything else or turn around. So that was two outbursts (justified if unwise) since I’d gotten there plus calling someone the ‘C’ word all in one day. Talk about your verbal incontinence. I don’t feel very strongly about spanking one way or the other. It didn’t do me any harm – though the last one I got was in third or fourth grade, and it was pretty rare before then too – but I’m not one of those crazy people who thinks you can’t possibly raise godly tomatoes (or whatever asinine phrase the bible bunch uses) without it. Still, I was the babysitter. It’s kind of my critical to my job to not let “you’re just the babysitter so you can’t XYZ” slide. On the one hand, pick your battles. On yet another hand, some battles you gotta fight. So I got up and connected that hand hard with Gordy’s butt. “I’m the babysitter. I’m in charge. And if your stepmom says you’re getting a spanking, you’re getting a spanking.” Two bonuses to stepping up like I did. First, and this wasn’t the main thing but was intentional, Mrs. Rooney smiled thinly and stood up, not to follow up on her threat to spank Gordy but to leave. Good riddance. Who needs those vibes around? Second, unintentional bonus: holy crap did I feel more powerful than I ever have in my life. And turned on. My promise ring didn’t make the journey from youth group to my mom’s car, but never I felt the way I did right then without a D or a D-cell battery before. Downside? Gordy finally lost it and started sniffling. I know the two spanks I landed didn’t actually hurt through his diaper, but I’m sure he was feeling about two inches tall having his college classmate spank him on his diaper while telling him she could and would give him a real spanking later that same night. I hated that I made him feel that way, even if I was just his stepmom’s instrument in this case. But also, and I feel guilty for saying this, it kinda added to the whole arousal hearing him sniffle. So … there’s a thing I learned about myself that night. Mrs. Rooney said to me, “I think you’ll do fine, but if you have any questions, Gordy will answer them. Not his first trip over a knee.” “Another fifty.” Did I say that? Good for me! “That’s fair. Edward,” she called out to wherever Mr. Rooney had gone, “ready when you are.” To me she said, “Thank you again and sorry for all the fuss. I didn’t want to call just anyone over. I trust you. He may not want you here, but I told him you’d keep everything between us, won’t you?” “Of course.” Also, ‘may not?’ Try resented the hell out of it, understandably so. And I resented the hell out of her asking me to sit and springing this on me. “We’ll be home very late.” “I know. I’ll probably be asleep on the couch when you get home.” I stood against the doorframe and watched Mr. Rooney count out three hundred dollars and put it next to the pizza money. I told them to have fun. She called me a godsend and barely avoided the door hitting her on the butt on the way out. To my right, Gordy in the corner, no longer sniffling but still staring at the wall on his naughty spot. To my left, three hundred dollars on the counter just for spanking and diapering a grown man. If I’d only known about this cottage industry sooner! Heck, I’d have paid off my car by now. Go to patreon.com/alex_bridges to continue reading

A Christmas Special As a gift to my many readers, I'm making this available here without delay. If you've enjoyed my work over the past year and wish to say thank you, you can subscribe to my Patreon or leave a tip there. This is a sequel to A Thanksgiving Special, available wherever the best diaper stories are found (like here and here). Check out the original story or dive on in. ­­ Purely by coincidence, it was one day short of a month since your life had changed, Thanksgiving falling on November 25th and today being December 24th. You had lain wondering how many years in a hundred it works out that Thanksgiving and Christmas both fall on the 25th of their respective months while your partner changed you into a fresh diaper. You had been mad at her for all of ten minutes the first time, when she had ambushed you with a diaper as you were about to get dressed for Thanksgiving dinner at her parents’ house, confronting you about the rising frequency of your accidents and reminding you in detail about the prior Thanksgiving when you bottomed out your undies before you’d even finished your pumpkin pie. You couldn’t help but admit it made sense though, and when your partner told you on Black Friday, as you were about to get dressed to go shopping, that your change of attire wasn’t just for one night but permanent until you didn’t need diapers anymore, the experience of the previous night kept you from a more than a pro forma protest; that and the look in her eyes that told you this wasn’t negotiable and that she’d take the hairbrush to your bare bottom, a rarity but not unheard of, if you refused. And so you went from being someone who had accidents in their pants to someone who uses diapers. “If it happens in a diaper,” she told you more than once until you stopped apologizing every time it happened, “it’s not an accident.” You had to admit that made sense. After all, like she pointed out, that’s what diapers are for, so how could it be an accident? Hence the new euphemism your partner used in public: an incident, not an accident. No one in public ever seems to notice what you’re wearing, except for that one time three weeks ago you had a very big incident while waiting in line at the department store. What a frightening moment that had been, when you were waiting to check out with the cashmere sweater you were buying her for Christmas, and she was down in the men’s department shopping for you. You didn’t know what to do, the suddenness of it taking you by surprise and leaving you frozen in line. The few times you’ve had that kind of incident in public, she’s been by your side and quietly whisked you away to get you changed into clean huggies. You don’t mind that she calls them diapers instead of briefs, but it does bruise your ego a bit when she refers to them as huggies or pampers, but it’s far from a concern when you’ve, as she sometimes says, fudged your huggies and just need her help. You’ve never changed a diaper before, let alone your own, let alone such a full one as the one almost sagging around your hips that day in the mall. You didn’t even have the diaper bag with you. It wasn’t merely wearing one or even a full one but the smell that alerted the other shoppers, even though they were all wearing masks and on the “stand here” decals the store had put on the floor to keep shoppers six feet apart. The woman in front of you lifted her sleeping infant from the stroller and checked her diaper while you looked around as though you were just like the other adults and trying to find the source of the stench. But you fooled no one, nor did you notice the salesperson pick up the phone at the register and quietly say something to someone, so it came as a complete, and completely embarrassing, surprise when a store manager appeared at your elbow. She was nice about it, recognizing from your watery eyes you hadn’t done what you did for jollies and establishing as she walked you toward the escalator that you needed help. She guided you to the upper floor where the family restroom is located and assured you everything would be okay and asking only for your partner’s name before she left you standing in the middle of that restroom, wondering what was going to happen when you heard her on the public address system. Could your partner “please come to the manager’s office on the third floor behind bedding to meet your partner?” The entire time between the checkout line and being left in the restroom was a blur, and it was only after your partner had changed you into a clean diaper and held you while you let out a few tears did you realize you no longer had that sweater. The manager was waiting for you at the end of the hall, asking as though nothing unusual had happened whether you still wanted to check out. The manager struck you as unusually empathetic, guessing the sweater was a gift for your partner and taking you into her office to complete the purchase. She even gave you a certificate for free wrapping at the customer service desk. That fit with what you noticed your first night back in diapers. Your partner had preemptively told her family, taking away the chance of a surprise discovery, and they had all treated you especially gently. Not even the kids snickered. Your father-in-law even called you ‘tiger.’ But that was her family. Thanksgiving with her family, Christmas Eve with yours, and when you come out of the shower on Christmas Eve, she has an outfit waiting for you on the bed. You’ve always been equal partners even if she does take you over her knee a few times a year to correct your behavior, but ever since she’s declared by fiat that you are back in diapers indefinitely, she’s taken charge of a few things, inconsequential things in the scheme of it but all things that make you feel sometimes like a second-tier adult: your hygiene, your clothes, your diet, your sleep schedule, and of course anything having to do with relieving yourself. “I’m going to go change,” you announced when you’d returned from the Black Friday shopping trip. “Are you wet,” she asked. “No.” “Lemme check.” “I’m not wet,” you insisted in a childishly petulant tone that just came out. You didn’t speak that way to anyone, and especially not to her, the love of your life. “Then hold still and lemme check,” she said firmly as she took you by the elbow and cupped you through your pants. Not satisfied, she unbuckled your belt and slipped her hand down your pants while you stood there trying to resist the desire to push her hands away and reassert your own authority over your body. You were dry, and you knew it. To be fair to her, you don’t always know when you aren’t, and that was true even before she put you back in diapers. She didn’t acknowledge you were dry beyond buckling your belt again and giving you a soft smile. You were briefly taken aback, almost offended, when she didn’t congratulate you or tell you good job. She did that just two days ago when you went almost an entire day without an accident. But underpants are to be kept dry, and keeping them dry deserves at least a verbal reward. Diapers aren’t supposed to be kept dry; using them shouldn’t provoke a scolding, but by the same token, not using them doesn’t deserve encouragement. After all, it’s only a matter of time. You didn’t know that at the time, the full weight and meaning of this change very slowly becoming clear over the course of the past month. On Black Friday, you just knew that you were dry and wanted to go change into your regular clothes. “So I’m going to go change,” you said again as she turned away from you after buckling your belt and started sorting through the shopping bags. “Why? You’re dry,” she said as she searched for something particular in one of them. “Um, because we’re home, so … I’m going to go put underpants on.” That caught her attention again. She straightened up and turned back toward you, her expression very like the one she’d worn when she announced you were wearing diapers to her parents’ house the night before, kind but resolved. “Honey, you wear diapers full-time now, even at home.” “But the bathroom is right there,” you said in more of a whine than you intended. “Please don’t use that tone with me. You have accidents at home too. You’re in diapers now.” “But … I don’t want to.” As an adult, that actually is a valid argument, and you knew that. You are an adult; not wanting to do something is a very good reason for not doing it provided you’re not harming anyone else and are willing to accept the consequences. “I understand that, sweetie, but it’s not up to you.” “Yes it is too,” you shot back, raising your voice, again without meaning to, an outburst that did nothing to make you seem like an adult but did plenty to make you sound like a child on the verge of a tantrum. Your partner wouldn’t be having that, and faster than your reflexes could respond, she had your wrist in her left hand and her right delivered two sharp spanks to the seat of your pants. “Do you need more,” she asked with her hand poised. You tried to cover your butt with your free hand, but you knew from experience that wouldn’t stop anything. “No!” “Because if you need more, it will be on your bare bottom.” “No, I’ll be good,” you promised. “Come with me,” she said and led you to the sofa in the living room. “But I said I’d be good,” you pleaded as she sat down. You only ever try to get out of a spanking verbally, not that it’s ever worked even once. You never run away or fight back, not really. Just trying to bat her hands away when she takes your pants down or feebly attempting to block the spanks or kick your way off her lap. “I’m not spanking you. Sit down.” And you did, quite aware that if you acted up, she was fully capable of changing her mind and pulling you across her lap. “I’m sorry I wasn’t clear this morning. You’re in diapers all the time everywhere, until you stop needing them.” “Even at home?” “You have more accidents here than anywhere else.” “But … But that’s only because I’m here more than anywhere else.” Which upon just a half-moment’s consideration you realized isn’t an argument in favor of underpants. She must not have thought so either because she didn’t even bother to counter it, merely saying again, “You’re in diapers until you don’t need them anymore.” “But I’m an adult.” “An adult who needs diapers. You’ll be much happier this way; we both will. No more stained undies or ruined pants or wet furniture. No more public accidents.” “People will find out.” “They might find out, but they definitely will find out if they see you flood your pants or have a brown out in your shorts.” “Can we just try them for a while,” you ventured, searching for a compromise and fairly certain you could find ways to sabotage a trial period. “We’ve tried lots of things, and the doctors are out of ways to help you. It’s diapers from now on.” You knew you were not going to change her mind. “But just until I don’t need them anymore, right?” “Right,” she said back with a tone that struck you as being similar to the tone one uses when telling a child that Santa might bring that toy that’s way too expensive: upbeat but insincere because like that parent, she knows it will never happen and can neither break your heart with the truth nor lie straight to your face without betraying a hint of her true thoughts. But like that child, you wanted to believe, so you said, “Okay, until then,” and she reached out to embrace you while you cried into her breast. All to say you aren’t surprised when you find her waiting in the bedroom for you to finish your shower, with your outfit laid out on the bed, so complete with a diaper. Diapers are part of your outfit now as surely as underpants used to be. And because she took charge of your outfit on Thanksgiving and had taken the great liberty of informing her family, you opt to not say anything about it to your own family. She would do it if she thought it was necessary, and you trust her. A good excuse since you’re too embarrassed to tell anyone. Once you arrive at your childhood home, it doesn’t take long for you to understand from the way people are treating you with kid gloves that she has, in fact, told them. Your dad calls you sport. Your mom keeps placing her hand on your lower back and discreetly, although from whom she’s trying to hide the motion you aren’t sure, sliding her hand down your waist. It doesn’t make any sense that she keeps doing that. As much as you try to take no responsibility for your diapers, figuring that if your partner is the one insisting on them then she can be the one to do all the work they create (with you doing your best to not see how that makes you seem even more in need of her doting care), even you know she can’t tell if you need changed just by putting her hand on the very top of your diaper’s back waistband. Your big sister solves that mystery by being much less discreet, merely putting herself between you and the center of the living room as she turns you around, the sudden shock leaving you wordless and cooperative as she grasps the waistband of your pants in one hand and tucks your undershirt in with her other. “Your Christmas sweater keeps riding up, kiddo. Everyone can see your diaper,” she says above a whisper but hopefully not loudly enough for others to hear, though they likely saw or at least surmised. And when she gives you a pat on the butt and you almost swallow your tongue, you lock eyes with her daughter, all of five years old, who smiles at you as if she knows how delicate your feelings are. “Honey,” your partner calls from across the room not long thereafter, “my parents are about to facetime me. Come say hello.” A glance around the room as you cross the rug and followed her up the stairs makes you suspicious as to whether anyone believed her excuse, because you don’t believe it and find you are right not to as you follow her to your childhood bedroom where she has already prepared a diaper change. “I wanted to get you into something dry before we open presents,” she explains. A day shy of a month, four changes a day, and you are well practiced in the routine. She is already kneeling on the floor as you approach her, and she unbuckles your belt and slides your pants down. “Actually,” she said, pausing, “let’s take them all the way off for this one. Lift your foot.” She takes your shoes off, then your pants, and you gingerly lay down on the changing mat, a habit from never being entirely sure there isn’t a small mess in the seat of your diaper but knowing as occasional as that is, it’s often enough to have taught you sitting straight down can make a change much longer. “Hold your sweater,” she says gently as she pushes it up and away from the top of your diaper. She always uses a gentle tone when she changes you, except when she’s trying to cheer you up or is in a silly mood. You always do your best to pretend you don’t like it, but you can never hold in your laughter when she blows a raspberry on your tummy during a change. “Not so bad after all,” she said the first time she changed one of your dirty diapers, “right? Isn’t this better than having accidents in your pants?” “Yes,” you’d agreed, and while you meant it, you weren’t happy about it and let that emotion show, so she bent forward and blew a raspberry on your tummy and did it again while you laughed, and she tickled your sides and somehow kept you from rolling away as you giggled and pleaded through tears of laughter for her to top. On Christmas Eve, she puts her hand on the bottom of your diaper as you lay on your back looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling since you were a little kid. She bends forward and gives your diaper two investigative sniffs. “You’re a little messy,” she pronounces you. The first few times she discovered you were messy after she’d opened your diaper, she’d asked you if you knew you had stinky pants or remembered doing it, but she doesn’t ask anymore, nor did she ever ask if you’d been doing that before going back into diapers, making very small messes without knowing it. She figures it didn’t matter either way. Worst case, the diapers are making your problem worse, but since she never expects you to be out of diapers, it makes no difference. “Are you having a good time,” she asks as she plucks a few wipes from the packet and sets them next to you. She always does that before she opens your diaper, getting everything ready to make the change as quick as possible and, sometimes, to do everything she can to make sure nothing gets dirty or wet. “Yeah,” you respond. “Cuz you look a little mopey.” “I … everyone saw my diaper … poking above my pants.” “So? Anyone say anything mean?” “No.” “Anyone care?” “I don’t know. If they did, they didn’t show it.” “No one cares,” she assures you. “No one thinks less of you.” “How do you know,” you say sharply. You trust her to take care of all this because you love her and do trust her, but also because you need to trust her because there’s no one else to trust. But sometimes it doesn’t always seem like she understands that she can’t understand what this is like for you. She drops the rubber glove she was about to put on and gets back up on her knees, planting her hands on either side of you, straddling you like she does when she wants to make love, trapping you underneath her as though you’d ever want to leave the protection of her arms and looking down into your eyes while you look up into hers. “I love you,” she says, “and so does every person here.” She leans down and kisses you. “I love you even more every day.” She smiles at you again, and you feel a swell of emotion. “Uh-oh,” she said, “I know that face.” She sits down at your side, and you sit up just enough to bury your face in her lap. “It’s okay,” she coos. Ever since the accidents started, you’ve become more emotional, more prone to tears, and the diapers have only made you more so. You cry more often but rarely for long, and this time like every time she strokes your hair and rubs your back and shushes you until you pick your head up. “All done?” You nod, and she reaches across you to the wipes she plucked from the packet and wipes the tear streaks from your cheeks. “Sorry,” you apologize. “Never be sorry because you have to cry.” “I love you too.” “I know you do, sweetheart.” She kisses you on your hair. “Ready to lay back so we can get this yucky diapie off you and go open presents?” You do, and she finishes putting her gloves on, something you insisted she start doing despite her insisting changing your dirty diapers doesn’t bother her. “I know it’s Christmas,” she says, “but that doesn’t mean you needed to fudge your huggies just for me.” You scoff and chuckle. “Not that I don’t appreciate the present you made me. It’s the thought that counts, right?” Normally you’d be upset if she made that joke, but the day and the circumstances and the reassurance that she still loves you – that changing your diapers doesn’t change how she feels about you – make the joke funny even to you, and in just a few minutes you’re in a fresh diaper and redressed. “Where are you taking that,” you ask when you notice her rolling the diaper up into a ball. “The trash,” she says with a quizzical look on her face as though it was a silly question. “O.” “You want to throw it away at home?” “No, I just … no. Thanks for changing me.” “You’re very welcome like always, sweetie. Let’s go open presents.” You lead the way back downstairs, and while you turn left toward the living room, she walks straight ahead and passes your younger sister, who takes note of what she’s carrying but doesn’t say anything as your partner tosses your used diaper into the trashcan. She doesn’t push it deep into the trash, just setting it on top and letting the lid close. What’s there to hide? Nothing. Your little sister catches up with you and puts her hands on your shoulders, leaning forward to whisper into your ear, “You’re the luckiest person I know,” before she too gives you a light swat on your butt. Both sisters and your mom and your partner’s mom have now all casually done that, and while you think you should feel offended, you don’t. In a way you don’t understand and you can’t express, it feels good, and you know you’ve done the same to your nieces and nephews still in diapers and don’t know why, as though a diapered bottom needs to be patted for some mysterious, irresistible reason. Your partner joins you in the living room, and the two of you sit down on the floor together to open presents and enjoy watching everyone else open theirs. You try hard every year to find at least one gift you’re excited to give, and this year you found several. It warms you to see people so delighted with your gifts. As it always does, the hour it takes to open all the gifts seems over too soon. You help gather up all the stray paper, and you dad asks rhetorically, “Who’s ready for dessert?” “We’ll be down in a minute,” your partner responds. “I don’t need changed yet,” you whisper as she takes your hand. “I know,” she says and lead you back to your childhood bedroom anyway. “What,” you ask behind closed doors, eager to get your share and more of the dessert your mom only makes for Christmas. “It’s getting late, and I want to go straight to bed when we get home.” “Okay,” you respond, unsure why she brought you upstairs to tell you that. “So let’s get your jammies on.” That’s why the diaper bag seemed fuller than usual. There’s been an extra outfit in the back of the car for years, frequently needed and frequently needing to be replaced. For the past month, an extra pair of pants have been in the diaper bag for any trip away from home for more than two hours, but never an entire outfit. You just assumed that was what was in the bag because you never go in there unless she asks you to get something. It’s not because you're not allowed to but because you don’t want to. You had been upset with her only very briefly when she insisted you go back to diapers; it isn’t pique that keeps you out of the diaper bag. It’s acceptance. She’s in charge of the diapers, so there’s no reason for you to go into the diaper bag. “Jammies,” you say incredulously. She’s been on you about your sleep schedule since you were first dating, and you’d reluctantly complied over time, realizing she was right and you do feel so much better when you go to bed at her version of ‘on time.’ “Yes, jammies, silly goose. You always sleep in pajamas.” “Everyone will see.” “See you in your jammies? What’s the problem?” “I just …” It’s not being seen in your pajamas, though they do make your diapers much more obvious. It’s that no one else is in their pajamas. It will make you seem more childish. Even if the diapers are a necessity and everyone understands that, they’ll be a lot less understanding of your partner insisting you get dressed for bed before you’re even home as though you’ll fall asleep in the case and she’ll carry your sleeping body to bed. “Yes,” she says, waiting for you to finish your sentence. “I don’t want people to see me in my pajamas.” “Siena saw you in them last week.” Her best friend. “That was different. We were home, and it was late, and I was about to go to bed.” And you had put on your own pajamas. Does she mean to actually dress you for bed? “And this doesn’t even save any time. It takes less than a minute to get my pajamas on, and anyway,” you sigh, “you’re going to have to change me for bedtime anyway.” Probably, given the hour, but maybe not. Christmas miracles do happen, right? Just as she is about to respond, there’s a knock at the door. “Can I come in,” your mom asks even as she’s in the act of opening the door neither of you had locked. “Um, yeah,” you say since it’s too late and you’re still dressed. “Are you changing into your PJs,” she asks as she closes the door behind her. “Just about to,” your partner replies as though you weren’t on the edge of a disagreement on that very subject. “I figured. I always brought their jammies to my parents’ house on Christmas Eve so they could go straight to bed when I got them home. I got something for you.” “More presents,” your partner asks as you stand there unsure whether you speaking up will make any difference. “Just a couple gifts I thought you’d like to open without everyone watching, but I want to see you open them. I made them myself.” It’s a large box. “That’s so nice of you.” “Um, really nice, Mom.” “Well, come sit, silly,” she says as you stand in front of her. You sit down on the bed next to her, oblivious to the crinkle from the mattress when you do. You long ago grew so used to it that you don’t notice it anymore. “It’s not much. I had the idea when I saw you two for lunch two weeks ago.” “Don’t be so modest,” your partner says as you turn the box over and slide your finger under the seam to break the tape. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble,” you tell her. She’s always gone out of her way to make each Christmas special, and every year of your adult life, you’ve been profuse in your thanks, understanding in a way you didn’t as a child how much work and love she pours into the holiday. You open the box to find several pieces of clothing, and you hold the first one up. “A onesie,” your partner practically exclaims as you examine the shirt. “At lunch I kept seeing your diaper poking out above your pants every time you moved. It’s been doing it all night, too, and it was just driving me crazy. I thought this would be perfect for that, and that you’d feel better knowing no one will see your diapers when you bend over.” Your partner lets out a chuckle. “Um …,” you say before finding your voice, “thank you. I … Thank you. That will help a lot.” And you mean it. Childish, yes, but also practical, and you know it comes from the heart. “Really? You really like it,” your mom asks. “I love it.” “O thank goodness. I was so nervous. I was afraid you’d be upset with me.” “What? Never. I know you’re just thinking of me. I really appreciate this. It’s a great idea.” “There’s a few in different colors and few plain white ones, and I made one just for Christmas.” She takes the box off your lap and digs through the folded diaper shirts until she finds the one she’s looking for: green and white stripes with red piping along the sleeves and neckline, with a reindeer applique in the center of the chest. “Well,” she asks with a beaming smile. “Did you do this needlework by hand,” your partner marvels at the reindeer. “Yep, and I can teach you. I have the pattern, so we can make more.” “That would be great.” “We can make other things too,” your mom explains. “If we have a pattern, we just need to change the measurements to fit. I’ll show you.” “I’d like that.” “There’s one more thing in the box,” your mom says excitedly. “And I know this isn’t exactly cool, but I know you like to be warm.” She’s rambling now. “And it’s okay if you don’t like it. Really. You won’t hurt my feelings. It’s not to everyone’s …” “Mom,” you interrupt, “I’m sure I’ll like it.” You put your hand on top of hers, and she looks back at you with a warm Christmas smile before she starts taking the onesies out of the box and laying them on the bed. “It’s on the bottom,” she apologizes. “Here,” and with that she lifts a footed sleeper out of the box by its shoulders. The one she used for a pattern was for a toddler, and the zipper on that one was in the back, so she made one in your size with the zipper on the back too, not thinking you wouldn’t be able to get it on and off without help. “O my goodness, that is so cute,” your partner gushes. “Wow,” is your clever response. “That will definitely be warm.” “You like it?” “Yes.” “You really like it?” “Really,” you try to convince her but aren’t entirely sincere. What matters is she made it, so of course you like it. Love it even. But perhaps won’t like actually wearing it. “O, that makes me so happy.” She leans forward to hug you, and you hug back. “I just want Christmas to be perfect for everyone.” “I know. You always do such a good job,” you say and rub her back. When she leans away, you get a better look at the sleeper. The pattern is the same as the Christmas onesie, except the sleeper also has a reindeer tail. Snaps extend across the crotch and down both legs, at the end of which are soft-soled slippers below an elastic ankle cuff. “Try it on,” she urges you. “Um …” “Tomorrow,” your partner interjects. “When we come back for Christmas morning. In fact, I’ll wear my pajamas too.” “We all will,” your mom agrees. Her, your dad, your younger sister, you, and your partner. Your older sister will be opening gifts with her own family, and in the afternoon, you’ll head over to spend the evening with your partner’s family. “But we can try on the onesie right now,” your partner decides. You turn to look at her over your shoulder, and the look she gives back says yes, you will too. It’s not so much that you don’t want to argue in front of your mother as you don’t want to risk hurting your mom’s feelings, so you nod. “Of course,” you say. “I can’t wait to see you in it,” your mom says. “Lay back.” “What?” “Lay back, sweetie.” “We were just about to …” you say. “O, don’t be so silly,” your mom says as she bends down to pluck the diaper bag from the floor. “I did this every night when you were a kid.” You look at your partner for support, and she shrugs. “That was one of your birthday presents one year, remember,” your mom says because she’s a mom and is oblivious to when she’s embarrassing you. She turns back toward you and puts a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back. “Lay back. It’s okay.” You do, and she starts taking out everything she needs for a diaper change. “What birthday was that,” she asks absentmindedly. “Do you remember? You said all you wanted was to be allowed to put your nighttime diapers on yourself. It had to be after thirteen or I never would’ve let you. Of course that’s not all we got you, but I did give in and just checked that you did a good job before you went to sleep. Remember?” You’re blushing, and your partner is doing a poor job of suppressing a smile. “Did you know they make diapers for adults with cute designs on them,” your mother asks. “I saw them online when I was doing some searching for onesie patterns. Not that you’d like those probably, but they are cute, and the reviews say they work very well. People are in such a fuss that this new one is only available in Japan right now; it is adorable, but people just need to be patient. It’ll get here.” She spots the packet of rubber gloves and pauses, understanding what they’re for and turning her attention back to you as she puts an empathatic hand on your thigh. Her eyes tell you she’s sorry you have to deal with this, and she keeps her hand there as she turns toward your partner. “I’m so glad the two of you have each other.” She turns back to you. “I couldn’t have picked a better partner for you.” A tear once again appears at the corner of your eye. “Hhh,” your mom pretends to gasp, “you always were mommy’s little crybaby.” She leans down to kiss you on the cheek. “Everything is going to be okay because you two have each other, and of course I’ll always be your mommy. That’s just how it works.” She sounds almost choked up herself. “Anyway, we’re holding up dessert,” she says and clears her throat. “You’re making everyone wait,” you ask as though that’s the nicest thing she could do for you in the moment. “Of course. I know you look forward all year to my Christmas cake.” “Here,” your partner says, “lemme help.” She gets your shoes and socks off, and wanting to not seem completely helpless, you begin to unbuckle your belt. Your mom bats your hands away, and with nothing to do until she tells you to lift your hips, you have a moment to consider why you’re allowing this to happen. You turn your head to look away, and with your ear to the mattress you hear the crinkle of the plastic sheet under the bedclothes. You know exactly why. It’s embarrassing but not mortifying – not what you're wearing nor why nor that your mother is about to see your nudity – because the two of you have done this many times before. She did let you put on your own bedtime diaper when you pleaded for your fifteenth birthday. Not that it was the last time your mother did this as she sometimes insisted when you were under the weather or just very tired right up until you dried up at night towards the end of your senior year. You knew you must’ve been the only senior who had to wear a pull-up on that right-of-passage road trip with your parents to visit colleges. How relieved you were to be dry by the time you filled out your residency form, thrilled to be able to leave off any reason why you couldn’t share a room with someone else and have a regular college experience. Your problem got better for a number of years before beginning to get worse than it had ever been, leaving you in the position you find yourself now. And that fifteenth birthday wasn’t so long ago in the scheme of things, and even less time from your mother’s perspective. For you it’s half a lifetime, but for her it’s yesterday because that’s how time works for moms. “Just wet,” your mother announces when your pants are off. “Usually,” your partner says, “but sometimes there’s a little present in there waiting for you. There was earlier.” Whether the last time your mom changed you was recent or not, that was embarrassing, but saying so would only be more childish than what was already happening, so you don’t say anything. “So how has it been going,” your mom asks as she tears the tapes open on your diaper, and you know the question is directed at your partner and not you. “We’ve both adjusted and gotten used to it. We had some hiccups early on, and there was a blowout at the mall …” “O goodness. I’m sorry to hear that.” But not as sorry as you were to endure it. “…but you live and learn.” “And then get Luvs,” your mom finishes with a chuckle as she wipes down your diaper area. “Ha! It’s the social aspect we’re still working on. Just a couple friends know so far.” “Your friends won’t care, sweetie,” your mom tells you, “And if they do, then they’re not your real friends.” Which is such a mom thing to say, and you manage to not roll your eyes. “I brought a nighttime one,” your partner says as she gets the right diaper out of the bag. “Goodness,” your mom says again, the closest the woman has ever come to a cuss word in your presence. “I wish they’d made them this thick when you were younger. I had to double diaper and get some plastic panties so we wouldn’t have leaks more nights than not.” “Plastic panties,” your partner asks. “You don’t know about those?” “Still new to this.” “Such a lifesaver, and with the mush tush accidents they’d help hold the smell in.” “We don’t call them accidents anymore. If it happens in undies, it’s an accident, but diapers are supposed to be used, so these are incidents.” “That’s very sweet,” your mom says, casting a grateful look at your partner, glad she’s so understanding and doing so much to help you through this adjustment. “Anyway, if there’s a dirty diaper incident,” she says, stressing the word, “in public, plastic panties would maybe save some embarrassment. Nothing quite as unpleasant as everyone smelling you have a poopy diaper, is there sweetie?” Now you’re not sure what’s worse: being included or excluded from this conversation. “All done,” your mom announces as she seals the last tape on your diaper. “You look kind of cute in your diapie, just like you used to.” “What do you say,” your partner asks. “Uh, thanks, Mom.” “You’re very welcome. Just a mom’s job … Ope, and a partner’s if needed.” She takes your hands and helps you sit up. “Stick ‘em up.” You do, and she helps you take your Christmas sweater and undershirt off while your partner unsnaps the Christmas onesie and rolls it up in her hands. “Keep ‘em there, buster,” she says, and your mom pivots out of the way, rolling up your used diapers and repacking your diaper bag while your partner slips the onesie over your head and helps you get your arms through the sleeves. She hasn’t been helping you dress until tonight, and it doesn’t occur to you to wonder whether you should expect more of that treatment. Your mother hands her the pajama pants from the diaper bag and folds your actual pants to put in the diaper bag. You reach for the pajamas, but your partner holds them back. “Not yet. We haven’t seen yet. Stand up.” You do, and your partner leans down and reaches between your legs to find the back flap of the onesie, her forearm pressing firmly into the front of your diaper as she does. A tap on the inside of your thigh tells you to open your legs for her, and as you glance down and back up, feeling self-conscious again, she closes the five snaps. “Let’s show your mom,” your partner says as she straightens up and turns you toward your mother, who is zipping up the diaper bag and turns to see at the same time. “O, it’s perfect,” your mom says. “You look so cute.” She steps toward you gives you another hug, and you don’t jump this time when she reaches down to pat your diapered bottom, not just once this time but six times in rapid succession as she practically beams with pride, of her handiwork of or of you, you’re not sure, but it’s for you. She’s always proud of you. She leans back again, keeping her hands on your shoulders. “Does it feel alright?” “Yes,” you say as you nod quickly. “And you really like it?” “Yes, Mom, I do. Thank you again.” This time you initiate a hug, and it’s your mom who has teary eyes. “I’m so glad. I just want to help. It’s hard seeing your baby go through things like this.” “We appreciate any help you offer,” your partner reassures her. “Ready for pants,” she asks you. She holds open your pajama pants, and you step into them. “I need bigger ones,” you say absentmindedly, something you’ve said several times over the past month. They fit too snugly around your bedtime diapers. “We’ll see what Santa brought in the morning,” your partner says as she puts warm socks on your feet because they always get cold at night. “I really have to go down there like this?” “You can wear your new sleeper.” “Honey,” your mom says, “everyone here loves you. No one would dream of making fun of you, and if they do, they’ll have to answer to me.” She always was protective when it came to making sure no one made fun of you for your problem. “That’s what I said,” your partner chimes in. “You ready for cake,” your mom asks. She opens the door, and your big sister walks by with your five-year-old niece in her arms. The little tyke is also wearing her jammies so she can go straight to bed when she gets home. She’s already almost asleep in her mom’s arms. You all head downstairs, and you get complimented on your new ‘shirt,’ and everyone congratulates your mom for doing such a good job on it. Not a word is said about your diaper bulge or the two diapers, one dirty, in the kitchen trash. You’re almost ready to fall asleep when you get in the car for the ride home, and though you’re a little damp when by the time she steers you to the bedside, your partner yawns as she says, “You’ll last til morning.” And in the morning, you’ll wake up and open presents at home with her before heading back to your parents’ house for yet more presents, this time wearing your new sleeper, and who knows, maybe some of those cute diapers your mom mentioned will be waiting under the tree. Maybe you’ll have a dirty diaper while opening presents – you usually do that time of morning – and it will go unremarked while you all finish opening because some things are more important than getting you into clean pants right away, like Christmas and presents and family. Maybe your partner will change you, maybe your mom, or maybe even your little sister, just two years younger than you but still living at home. It wouldn’t be the first time, and after all, your partner already packs a box of changing supplies to leave at your parents’ house. But no matter. Whatever happens, it will be fine, and so will you. That knowledge and the sense of peace it creates in your heart is the best Christmas present you could hope for. You can read Alex’s extensive library of sweet and kinky ABDL fiction on Patreon, Amazon, and SubscribeStar.

It's always fun when this time of year rolls around, and holiday themed stories make their appearance. The same can be said about Halloween. I had hoped to write one of my own for Halloween, but that didn't happen. This idea popped in my head last week. I'm hoping I'll be able to finish it by the end of the month, but I don't want to make promises that I can't keep, and I don't want to rush a story and get stressed out. It takes place in the Diaper Dimension. If you're unfamiliar with that content, there are a ton of amazing stories on this site that can bring you up to speed. I didn't create any of the setting, just borrowed ideas along the way, and its impossible to give full credit where credit is due. This is not a smutty story. More of a PG-13 kind of thing. I don't plan on using any bad or unsavory language, and there's no scenes where you need to cover your eyes. Also, no Littles were harmed in the production of this story. Well, at least not in chapter one. Thanks for reading. ..... The Present(s) - 1 Arrival, 2 Anticipation, 3 Agreements, 4 Antechamber, 5 Actualization pt 1, 6 Actualization pt 2, 7 Acceptance, 8 Awareness, 9 Ambush, 10 Almost midnight, 11 At Midnight, 12 After Midnight 1 Arrival The present. The ‘here and now’. The ‘what’s happening’. The ‘very second’. That’s where James Park tried to keep his head. To keep his focus on what he was doing, not thinking about the past or future, only trying to move from one moment to the next. He had to maintain that mindset, because life was rough for a Little in a Big world. For James there was only the next job, and the next job would be his last. A comforting thought, but that was also thinking into the future. A Little ‘no, no’. There were pitfalls in his line of work, nothing could be taken for granted, and losing focus was dangerous. While on this side of town, every thought counted, every action was under scrutiny, and every word could be used against him. He had to set his mind right if he planned on avoiding what happens to Littles who make mistakes. In the present, he stood shivering on a sidewalk opposite from an impressive skyscraper, scrying the busy intersection for a spot to make it across the street. A picturesque snowfall hushed the loud city street around him. It possibly could have been comforting, if James wasn’t so concerned about being late. He tightened his navy overcoat across his chest, his chin length dirty blonde hair had collected white flakes at the tips. It wasn’t a bitter cold. It was crisp, precise, on point with the season. However, it was a different story when the wind would kick up. A quick gust almost pulled the tiny scrap of paper from his hands. A paper with a place, a time, and a promised payout. An Amazon couple slowly strolled his way from further than the sidewalk. Their loving arms entwined and wandering eyes on the hanging wreaths and colored lights. They carried on in empty conversation and laughter. James turned away to pretend he wasn’t there, but he felt their eyes linger as they passed. He was used to the looks, but he wasn’t used to being late, or being called up at the last minute. It raised his hackles. The present. He needed to get across the street. Contracts were quite specific on arriving on time. Unfortunately, there was no stop to these cars. He again jumped to press the button to trigger the crosswalk, then jumped a third and fourth time, but he doubted he had the force necessary to change the light. This side of town wasn’t built with him in mind. His flailing about caught the watchful eyes of a Big doorman from the tower on the other side of the street. The man was tall and dressed in a red uniform, standing guard in front of a wide array of gold trimmed glass doors. James knew he had the man’s attention, this guy was a helper of sorts, and he’d help him get past this traffic. The two made eye contact, exchanged a pair of nods, and the doorman pulled a shiny brass whistle to his lips as he walked into the road, raising a hand to part the cars. Deep down, he hated the favor. Or that he needed the favor. He also hated the man’s condescending smile. Even if James tried to return a polite one. But what he hated most was the way he called him ‘Little guy’. “Hey Little guy,” the doorman said as he pressed a white glove against his back, hurrying James across the street. “I assume that you’re here for the party?” There was something about that smile that wasn’t right. As sinister as it was genuine. James answered, “Um. That’s right.” The Little struggled to keep pace with the Giant’s larger strides while cowering from blinding headlights. What was at the waist of a Big was eye level for a Little, and the high beams burned from both sides. When they got to the curb, the doorman gave a final tug to the back of his jacket, sending James stumbling over the sidewalk almost into the glass doors. The doorman spoke. “Now what do you say, kid?” James wasn’t a kid, but it wasn’t worth the argument. Not on this side of town, not against this man. It was all a job, all a performance. That’s how he learned to swallow that pride like poison and keep his mind on the present. He gave a slight bow. “Thank you, sir.” The taller man ruffled his hair with a gloved hand before opening the door for him. Then all at once he was inside. Away from the cold wind, snide doorman, and into a busy lobby. The Giant room was tall and wide, an open space like a concert hall, with the acoustics to match. It would probably echo had it been empty, but it was full of life. Lively ropes of garland hung from the walls, spiraling trees filled with ornaments in every possible corner, and there was even a robotic oversized Santa mechanically waving at passersby. James could hear its jolly laughter over the brassy holiday music that filled the air over the throng of people seemingly everywhere. All three types were present in the lobby, highlighting the caste system based on size. The tall Amazons moved about with confident authority, manning stations and desks, or other ones seated on plush chairs and sofas, sharply dressed presumably for their holiday party. Betweeners hustled about fulfilling the Big’s wishes to prove that they were worthy of being above Littles, or at least they hoped. Then there were the others, the Littles, the ones so very out of place. Against a wall stood a long line of about twenty or thirty in a row, like a band of preschoolers on a field trip, anxiously awaiting — they couldn’t possibly all be there for the party, could they? James didn’t know that there would be others like him, or he wouldn’t have taken the job. Suddenly, things didn’t feel right, and he was about to turn around when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was warm and feminine, but also firm and binding, like his contract. So there was no getting out of this. She chirped, “What’s your name, Little guy?” There it was again. James spun around wielding a fake happy face. He followed the hand on his shoulder to a perky Tweener with wide open eyes, like she was excited to see everything. She wore business casual, lots of makeup and a lopsided Santa hat. There was a tablet in her hands and a walkie clipped to her belt. Party coordinator, Little wrangler, or for this job, possibly his boss. “I’m James Park, and I’m here for the party.” “Oh, you look so excited! Let me check if you’re in the right place.” She tapped a pen along the edge of the computer screen until she found his name. Unfortunately, he was in the right place. “It looks like you’re partners with Kinsey tonight,” she said as she pointed to a Little girl moping against the wall like the rest. “I’m Jennifer, but you can call me Jenny. Or Miss Jenny. Whatever is easiest to say.” James hesitated. “Jenny, I didn’t know there were others. I mean, I normally work alone, and I— “ “You’re nervous, I can tell.” Jenny reached around and rubbed his back, then he felt the slight push towards Kinsey and the other Littles lined against the wall. “I bet you’ll feel better about things after making new friends. Kinsey is super nice, maybe she’s single and ready to mingle.” The present. He was just another Little in a long line. Jenny lied. Kinsey didn’t seem nice, just pretentious and bored, and anything but kind. Though she looked pretty in that fashion conscious black dress, so that was something. They exchanged polite greetings before spending the next few minutes in silence. He kept glancing her way, expecting her to say something, anything. He looked around at the other Littles of all kinds, like someone pressed a randomizer button, and the Littles of every flavor popped out of a machine. Dark hair, Light hair, short hair, long hair, tomboys and girly boys, every color of a Little rainbow, and every single one dressed in their best to impress. However, he and Kinsey practically looked the same. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin, down to their button noses. Most of the other partners were talking with one another, James thought it was proper to at least attempt the same. “So Kinsey, what brings you here?” He grimaced. It came out awkward despite all of the courage he spent to break the ice. Kinsey recrossed her arms and slid further down the wall before loudly sighing. “I was told they only invited professionals, and now I’m stuck with a newbie.” A newbie? She might as well have called him a baby. A pretty strong insult coming from the mouth of a fellow Little. James leaned into her personal space. He took crap from Bigs and Tweeners, but when it came to his own size, nope. “I’m not a newbie, I’ve been around, this isn’t my first time with Amazons. I’ve probably been working longer than you.” “Oh, yeah.” Kinsey side-eyed him for a hundredth time. “What exactly do you do, James?” It wasn’t really a secret, but he didn’t exactly want to admit to his line of work. He shook his head. “Nah, you first.” Kinsey delicately placed both palms on her chest. “Easy. I’m a model. You may have seen some of my work, but judging by the fact that you’re wearing last year when it’s almost next year — you haven’t.” James felt that burn. On the inside. She asked, “What about you, Little guy?” Oh, man. He felt the heat rise, like a soft blush from spiked eggnog, it settled into his cheeks. James cleared his throat, there was no way the truth would put a stop to this ridicule. Neither would a lie. “I’m a singer,” James answered. “What kind of singer?” Kinsey turned her head as if she knew she was prying him apart. Alright, time to get honest. James worked as a singing telegram. He sang Little ditties in babyish costumes for tips, traveling around to different offices and events — basically embarrassing himself in front of Amazons for hard cash. He would like to think it was worth it, but even at his last gig, he still wasn’t sure. Simply put, it paid the bills and zero chance for social promotion. Even by a Little’s standards. The job also didn’t have the best of reputations. Mostly by a Little’s standards. There was something about giving the Amazons what they expected of Littles that aggravated everyone else his size. There was a usual song and dance to his — his song and dance. A routine of sorts. Show up wearing their silly costume, sing your little song, and collect your little paycheck. It was all demeaning, of course. The songs were standard Little music: ‘I’m a Little Teapot’, ‘Ba-Ba Black Sheep’, or whatever preschool jam was popular or relevant for the affair. Also, it was important to be cute, but not too cute, just the right amount of cute. That’s what the costumes were all about. The pre-made costumes were a tad bit infantilizing, always short shorts, sometimes coveralls, or worse, with snappies between the legs and zippers that ran down the back. But he set his limits: no dresses and no diapers. It had to be said. There were others he worked with that didn’t set those limits, those that didn’t mind showing up for a show thickly padded, which James thought was an invitation to disaster. However, he couldn’t blame them. They were in the business of getting tips, it was part of the territory. Push the envelope, reap the rewards. He had done the same himself, his longer hair was a part of that game. James had more than once been a target of suggestions for barrettes or pigtails. Kinsey prodded again. “What kind of singer, James?” They had a name for singing telegrams, more embarrassing than the job itself. He couldn’t bear telling her. She stopped, then grinned. “Don’t tell me that you’re a Gramcracker.” “Fine, I won’t tell you that,” James snapped back. It took a moment for her to believe him, like he fabricated his lifestyle just for this little talk; but when she figured it out, her whole demeanor changed. From apathetic to downright angry, and in rapid time. “You’ve got to be kidding me, diaper-bait.” She pressed a finger into his chest. “You mess this up for me, I swear-” Miss Jenny hustled by with her tablet, and Kinsey halted her brow beating until the Tweener passed. “I can’t believe I’m partners with a stupid Little like you,” Kinsey whispered. “You’re one to be talking,” James defended himself. “What’s so bad about what I do for money, huh?” “I shouldn’t have to explain it to you, I just can’t wait to hear your cute Little singing voice. Just try not to pee your pants and get us both put in diapers.” “Like you’ve never worn a diaper before,” James scoffed. Kinsey became suddenly alert, he definitely struck a nerve with his comment on diapers. “What are you suggesting, Gramcracker?” He knew he shouldn’t push her buttons, but the way she called him Gramcracker gave him no choice. “What kind of fashion magazines are you in? Little fashion, or ‘Little’ fashion? Emphasis on the Little part, I bet you’ve been padded more than your fair share.” James barely had a chance to smirk before Kinsey wheeled him against the wall. Her index finger was under his chin like a knife. “What I’ve had to wear because of stupid Littles like you is none of your business. If I wore a diaper, it meant I could be trusted in one without using it. Now, it'd be best for you to shut your mouth until it’s time for your little jingle.” She added, “You got that, Gram-gram?” He gulped. Just then, Miss Jenny made another round with her walkie wildly squawking. Kinsey pretended her threatening finger to his throat was nothing more than a friendly embrace. “I’m so glad to see you two are getting along,” Jennifer gushed. “When the bells chime it’ll be time to head to the elevators so you guys can get properly dressed.” The pair of Littles just smiled back, angry claws still digging into one another. This was going to be a long night, James thought to himself. Kinsey probably thought the same. Who knew what partners meant, and James struggled on keeping this whole thing professional. Kinsey released him as soon as Jenny looked the other way. After that, James kept his mouth shut as things fell into motion. They were organized into couples of boys and girls, some girls and girls, some boys with boys. And they were forced to hold hands. They were hors d'oeuvres for the devilish tastes of the Amazons, made to order, and ordered to please. A chorus of bells sang out from everywhere, tinny small ones, toneful medium ones, and heavy bells that shook the bones. All at once the chaotic atmosphere changed into programming. The chaos became order, the music stopped, and the uneasy quiet of hushed voices and shuffling feet took over. The well-to-do Amazons were the first on the elevators, heading to the top floor to the party. The Tweeners made sure to write their drink orders and remind them of seating arrangements. Older Amazons in ball gowns and fancy headdresses gave the long line of Littles one last look before heading up and taking their creepy leering faces with them. One last job. Then no more. Last but not least, it came time for the Littles. A small group of Betweeners herded them through the lobby and cattled them together onto an elevator. A Big elevator could fit a lot of Littles, and all of them hopped aboard. Jennifer stood with her kind in the middle of the mass checking over details with another Betweener that had a walkie and tablet in tow. The elevator had a mirror for a ceiling, an overhead reflection that the Littles didn’t need. They all stared at their reflection as they looked up into one another, holding hands awaiting what awaited them. That's the issue with the future. The future is captivating. It tugs and pulls at the present until the mind isn't on what's currently happening, the mind is elsewhere in a nameless space, sharing dreams and nightmares of what’s yet to come. James could take a guess on where their minds were at this moment. Probably already on floor 100. Later that night, in the future when this present was past, James would reflect on this moment just like that overhead mirror. The bright eyes looking up to something they couldn't quite see, soaked in a frightful quiet because there were no words for this ‘feeling’. A feeling that couldn’t be described as terror, more like an anticipation for malice. The bad was coming, but they could hope that it wouldn’t be all bad. Or too bad. But if it got too bad it would eventually be over. That’s the way it was with Amazons. Everyone hoped it would be worth it, that metaphorical pot of gold on the otherside of this rainbow. The fame, fortune, or some other prize that brought them to this moment didn't matter anymore. They were there. James had to assume that they were mostly like him, or Kinsey. In show business or hospitality for the Bigs. Which meant contracts, and unions, or guilds, or whatever. Signed contracts were a two way street, what kept him in line also kept him in clean underwear. Life wasn’t easy being a Gramcracker in a shark tank, but there were legal protections in their union contracts. If they performed to specifications, they were untouchable. Unfortunately, paper could only do so much. Binding agreements didn’t stop the pinches to both sets of cheeks, top and bottom, but it kept the kidnappings at bay. The oddities of this assignment plagued him for some reason, so were his reasons for taking the path that led to this moment. This job was different, last minute, high paying. No pre-made costume, no set list. Only an address and a time to arrive. Kinda suspicious for a final show, but James could rationalize it. There was an extra zero on this check that wasn’t on the others. He’d go out with an end of year bonus and never be seen around these parts again. Once again his head was in the future. That future was coming closer by the second, as the elevator slowly climbed to floor 99. Floor 100 was the top of the building where there was a high end club housing this ‘party’, but floor 99 was for Littles and Tweeners, those who made this party a reality. What was reality? The present. Kinsey closed her fist tightly around his hand and gave it a painful squeeze. She whispered right into his ear. “I hate you.” James turned to whisper back. “Good. I hate you, too.” Ah, the present.

Hey! Welcome to the Lovington Effect. I hope you stick around for awhile. While writing Without Merit, I thought of a prequel for my prequel even though there isn't a sequel, or an actual story for that matter. However, Lover Boy takes place in the 1980s, and it was supposed to be a one-shot, then the music took over. And entirely different story came out. A warning though. This story is rougher than Without Merit, and is a lot darker. It also contains frequent mentions of a sexual assault. If that is big concern to you, there are other great stories on this site. All characters are over eighteen. Thanks for reading. 1: Private Eyes 2: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun 3: Every Breath you Take... 4: ... I'll be Watching You 5: You Spin me Round (Like a Record) 6: The Voice Beyond the Mirror 7: Total Eclipse of the Heart 8: The New Forever 9: The Baby Shower ————————- Lover Boy 1988 Part 1: Private Eyes Every girl in Lovington knew about Beau Taylor. He was a walking, talking cautionary tale; all too similar to Icarus, fly too close to his hotness and your heart was sure to melt. Senior quarterback for the varsity football team, muscular build, tight denim jeans. Notorious bad boy with good hair. What was there not to like? He had bedded a good number of the girls in school, and a good number of girls outside of school as well. No one from the female persuasion was safe from the ‘Lover Boy’. The upperclassmen hung out on the lawn after the final bell, finding spots among the green grass, on the side of the concrete stairs, or beneath the shade of a half a dozen oak trees that lined the side of the school. The football players laid claim to a grassy knoll that overlooked the parking lot. From their high perch, they would catcall and wolf-whistle at all the girls. Appreciating the angry looks from mothers and fathers who happened to pick up their blushing virginal daughters from high school. Beau found his friends already there, laid about the ground, lounging and laughing. His best friend, Sherrod, sat taller between a pair of reclining oversized humans known as offensive linemen, Monster and Handley. Sherrod was an incredible athlete like Beau, they shared the backfield as quarterback and running back. They also shared the same outfit that day. Black shirt, blue jeans and denim jacket, down to the same bright red Converse shoes. Beau slapped the back of his black friend to grab his attention, catching Sherrod by surprise. Loudly announcing his presence with, “How are you three queers doing?” The three supposed ‘queers’ laughed as they exchanged special handshakes without leaving the ground. Monster looked up and asked, “What’s up, Beau?” “Nothing besides my dick.” The quarterback handled his crotch through his jeans. They all laughed again. “No, seriously man,” Beau continued, “my johnson is a little tired, it had quite the weekend.” “No shit?” Sherrod flashed a curious smile. “No shit, my man. You know how I score on and off the field. I’m talking about Vanessa, Christine, and Holly. I’m talking about how I get busy!” Next came something of a pelvic thrust to make sure his friends picked up his subtle connotation. Handley appeared surprised. “I didn’t think Holly was the type for that kind of thing.” “That’s where you’re mistaken, tubby.” Beau corrected him. “All of the ladies are the type for the ‘Lover Boy’.” Sherrod groaned. “Come on, you don’t have to show us your ass again.” But it was already too late, the jeans and the BVDs were already mid-buttock, revealing his heart tattoo with the words ‘Lover Boy’ on his upper right cheek. They didn’t want to look, but a heart-shaped tattoo on a pasty white ass has the innate capacity to grab attention. “You need to stop showing everyone your butt,” Sherrod warned him after catching an eyeful. “People are going to think that you’re homo or something.” “Well, I’m not the one who keeps staring at my buns of steel. What does that say about you guys?” Beau intermittently flexed his cheeks side to side like an experienced male stripper in a speedo. Which caught the attention of a trio of girls just beyond the football players. He made sure to give them a wink when he was done pulling up his pants. Monster gave the girls a wink, too. But they laughed incredulously and turned away from him. Maybe the big guy needed a tattoo on his butt. Handley asked, “Beau, why are you even here with us lowly, car-less peons — where’s the firebird?” Beau shrugged his backpack further over his shoulder and looked away. “You know, the old Bird is in the shop, getting its oil changed.” This was a lie. He had totaled his muscle car early Sunday morning. Right after showing Vanessa the ‘Lover Boy’ in the backseat and sending her limping back to her parents. Also, right after downing a six pack of beer. His parents were more than a little pissed at him about the wrecked car, especially his tough-love mom. She said that there would be a few changes coming his way. A dire warning that Beau didn’t care to heed. Speaking of his mom, he saw her station wagon turn the corner. Beau rushed towards the getaway vehicle, waving at the dudes, blowing kisses to the ladies. He didn’t want anyone to see him getting into the car with his mom. He had a reputation to uphold. “See ya, losers.” Beau called back. “Catch you at practice tomorrow, and I’ll see you girls after the game.” He jogged down the hill to where the wagon ran idle at the curb. Beau didn’t even notice Vanessa in the front seat until he was literally right on top of the car. The surprising sight caused him to trip as he rocketed down the hill, his hurried stumbling and fall braced by the impact of the long wood-paneled hood of the station wagon. How had he not spotted her there? The loud blonde hair, the blinding pink halter top, and dangling earrings should have been noticed from the top of the hill, from over a block away, or the next county over. Beau played it off as being silly, he was good looking enough to get away with being a klutz if it looked like he did it on purpose. He comically stretched out over the hood of the car like a bikini model. Moment saved. Vanessa rolled down the window with the hand crank. “Beau, what the hell are you doing on your mom’s car?” Mmm. There was that tasty condescension that he loved about his girlfriend. If you could call it ‘going steady’, he and Vanessa were the closest thing to going steady. Obviously, it didn’t mean they were completely true to one another. “I have a better question,” Beau said as he pulled himself upright and back onto his feet. “What are you doing inside my mom’s car?” Vanessa did what she did best, dealing with his childishness by running a hand through her hair. The fake blonde, over done, hair-sprayed fashion statement was partially to blame for the hole in the o-zone layer. All joking aside, it wasn’t all bad to be with a girl like Vanessa. She did have her perks; two of them in fact, and they sat on her chest in the most beautiful fashion, straining the thin fabric of the pink halter top. Ten years ago, it would have been empowering for her not to even wear a bra. Suddenly, Beau dreamed of driving a Delorean and meeting a crazy guy named Doc. She leaned out the window. “Quit being stupid, I’m trying to run some errands with your mom.” Beau hesitated outside of the car. “Errands? Where are you guys heading?” His mom turned from the driver seat, her thick glasses captured the light in a weird way. It made her eyes look all funny. “We need to pick up a few things from ‘Ma’ Webber’s for a baby shower.” Mrs. Taylor lit the cigarette between her lips. “Baby shower?” Beau grinned. “I hope I’m not going to be a daddy.” He winked at Vanessa who lightly tousled her hair again to dismiss his stupidity. Vanessa answered matter-of-factly, “You won’t be.” He was in the back of the station wagon without any fuss, leaning over the front seat without a seatbelt, and bothering Vanessa as much as he could with his mom present. That only lasted a few minutes, as Vanessa didn’t seem to care for Beau, or his presence, or his flirtatious sense of humor. Recognizing a lost cause, Beau finally gave up. The radio played a fuzzy tune, the tired speakers in doors kicked out the whinging guitars of Hall and Oates. The song was called 'Private Eyes'. Private Eyes they're watching you they see your every move Private Eyes they're watching you Private Eyes they're watching you watching you watching you watching you Beau drummed along with the beat with his fingers. The car strolled down main street, past the city park, slowing as it went by the old government lab just outside the center of town. You play with words you play with love you can twist it around baby that ain't enough cause I'm gonna know if you're letting me in or letting me go don't lie when you're hurting inside 'cause you can't escape my Private Eyes He settled on chilling against the vinyl seat, trying to put together why he even bothered with Vanessa in the first place. Then he reminded himself of exactly two reasons ‘why’. As he leaned back, he looked out the side window as the station wagon came to a stop in front of a house, not a baby store. Beau instantly recognized the house. It’s where he picked up Christine last Friday night; before he showed her the ‘Lover Boy’ in the back of the movie theatre. Oh boy, did Vanessa know about Christine? Because Christine knew about Vanessa, and she told Beau that she didn’t care if he already had a girlfriend. He watched in horror as Christine came out of the house and approached the passenger side with a brooding look, her jaw set and her eyes forward like living was an awful chore. She went by Christine, not ever Chrissy, you’d get popped in the mouth for calling her that. And she was the typical punk rock type, a metal head, a headbanger. Always wore black clothing, black jeans, ripped t-shirt, short cropped black hair. Even the leather fingerless gloves were black, and they looked great against her ivory skin. Multiple piercings in each ear, multiple studs in her leather jacket. She gave off a lot of that ‘look but don’t touch’ kind of vibe. But that didn’t keep away the ‘Lover Boy’. Beau could see past the rough exterior, which was easy to do since he’d more than once seen her naked. Her skinny pale figure had the slightest of curves at her breasts and hips, and was something to die for in the dark. Her bodacious body was worth all of the trouble that it came with, even if it drew the ire of the tempestuous blonde riding up front. Christine spoke to Vanessa. “You guys are running a little late, Vanessa. I just called Holly to tell her we were on our way.” Beau choked. “Holly, too?” Not her. Anyone but her. The girls turned his way and gave him a condescending glare to prove how much they were planning on ignoring him. Vanessa addressed Christine as coldly as a suspicious lover. “Thanks for coming with us, Christine. It wouldn’t happen any other way. She wanted us all to be there.” “Who? What?” Beau sounded the alarm. Vanessa interrupted him. “Beau, sweetie, us grown-ups are trying to talk.” Grown-ups? Sweetie? Her name calling had certainly been toned down this afternoon. Normally, Vanessa called him every four and five letter word that could make a sailor blush. “We got to motor if we want to make it on time,” Vanessa continued, undeterred. “Hop in the back with little Beau, and we can be on our way.” Christine was already pulling her seatbelt over her chest before they got moving again. She asked, “What took you guys so long?” “Beau was all about dry humping the hood like Tawny Kitaen,” explained Vanessa. “I wasn’t dry humping anything,” complained Beau. “Sure, you weren’t.” Christine tapped his cheek with a belittling soft touch. He slid to the bottom of his seat as Christine settled down next to him. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. It felt like calamity was knocking at the door, and all he could do was hide behind the curtains. Beau didn’t want to go to Holly’s house, see Holly’s face, or share the same planet as Holly. There were reasons why he wasn’t as proud of his conquest of Holly as he was Christine and Vanessa. It could be scratched up to miscommunication. He’d leave it at that. They had to check the addresses when they pulled up to Holly’s street, because all of the houses in the neighborhood looked the same. This one had a real quaint cottage appeal, a real copycat of the house next door and the one next door to that. Vanessa spotted little Holly on the porch-swing in front of her house, just rocking back and forth in a slow, melancholy way. She wasn’t taking this well, some girls don’t after getting the ‘Lover Boy’. Holly was demure, mousy little thing in round glasses. A naive brunette that always wore cheap dresses that looked ripped straight out of Little House on the Prairie. She liked puppies, kittens, rainbows and ponies, they were all over her Lisa Frank trapper keeper. She was so childish and innocent, and Beau — Beau gritted his teeth. He growled, “Why does she have to come with us?” Christine recoiled. “Whoa, Beau. What’s crawled up your butt?” “I just don’t fucking — I mean, I just don’t like her, she’s super weird, a real psycho like in that Carrie movie.” Mrs. Taylor waved a bony finger at her son. “Young man, you need to do a better job of watching your mouth, or I’ll pull this car over.” Beau slammed the front seat with an overhead swing from both of his hands. “We’re already pulled over, mom! Quit being such an idiot all the time.” Christine put a hand on his shoulder to calm him, but he rebuffed her touch with an angry shrug. “Beau, you don’t have to spaz out on your mom like that.” It was just so strange. All of these women in the same place was doing things to his mind. Making him think about things, and Beau didn’t like to think about things. Reflection was only for mirrors, not for Beau Taylor. He wouldn’t reflect on what happened this weekend, he wouldn’t think about it at all. His knuckles were in his mouth, stifling a tiny internal scream. He was still deep in his non-reflection when the car door opened. Holly was there, but her usual braces-filled smile was noticeably missing, and something cold and callous filled its place. No, she wasn’t taking the ‘Lover Boy’ treatment very well at all. He still greeted her, pretending to be all friendly-like even if he knew they weren’t friends. “What’s happening, Holly?” Beau tried to mend the fence, but it looked beyond repair. “Oh, hi Beau,” Holly replied, nasally and snarky. “When did you start sucking your thumb like a baby?” He didn’t even realize his hand was already back in his mouth. Beau quickly yanked it away, pretending to scratch his chin, or anything besides sucking his thumb. His frazzled response very much the opposite of being the ‘Lover Boy’. “I’m not sucking my thumb, I was just —“ Holly interrupted, “Sucking your fingers?” Mrs. Taylor weighed in on the subject as she put the car into gear. “My baby Beau always had an oral fixation. When he wasn’t on a bottle, he was on a pacifier. Took a damn long while to kick that habit.” His mom frowned as she flicked the ash free from her cigarette out the rolled down window. Christine giggled, “Oh, really.” “That explains a lot actually,” Vanessa added. “His obsession with certain things, am I right Christine?” “You’re right, can’t keep his mouth off of them.” Vanessa scowled towards the backseat in the overhead rear view mirror. At both Beau and Christine. What were these girls doing? Talking about ‘Lover Boy’ things in front of his mom! You didn't do that to a guy. He wasn't one to be afraid of a little innuendo, but there was a time and place to be sexual, and this wasn't it. That kind of talk was best saved for the backseat of the Bird, or the row furthest from the screen where no one could see or hear. Or in a restroom at her parent's restaurant. No. Why couldn't he block that out? He couldn't push that out of his mind like he wanted. It stuck around like a bad smell, as soon as it left his mind, it found its way back like a boomerang. Beau searched about the car for someone to take his side, but no one came to his defense. He suddenly felt exposed, and he didn’t like it one bit. “You’re all just trying to be funny, like I’m sucking my thumb right before we go shopping for a baby shower. What are you going to do? Buy me a pacifier? Goo-goo, gaa-gaa.” He expected them to laugh, especially when he broke into the baby talk. They just stared at him, as empty of mirth as a funeral. “You’re starting to get the right idea,” Holly laughed. Then the whole car laughed. In unison. Things were getting sorta weird around here, and Beau had enough of being outnumbered by their little hen party. There was far too much estrogen in the air, he had to puff his hairy chest to counter all the womanly energy. Something to do with aligning of the moon and the coordination of their monthly cycles. Deep thinking stuff. “Who’s this baby shower for, anyways?” Beau shot back with some swagger. “I’d like to know which one of you got knocked up.” The car went silent again. He shrugged like the Fonz. “What? Was it something I said?” Vanessa sighed, “Quit being such a wastoid, Beau.” Holly asked, “Why do you need to know?” The mousy girl spoke in a distant way as her eyes traced the world outside the window. Beau tried to explain his logic to the helpless females. “If I’m being dragged along on some crazy shopping trip, I’d at least like to know a few simple things. Like, is it for a baby boy or a baby girl?” His mom cleared her throat. “It’s for a boy. A sweet little boy.” Beau pushed the smoke away as his mom exhaled. It stung his eyes. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” Vanessa said. “Nope,” Beau coughed, he didn’t care if he was being belligerent. “Why are you guys all together, who do you all know?” Holly snapped, "We all know you." “What’s that supposed to mean?” Beau asked. Oh, man. This deep thinking stuff hurt his brain. Okay. Maybe Holly knew about Christine, because Christine knew about Vanessa, and he was pretty sure Vanessa now knew about Christine. However, no one knew about what happened between him and Holly. That was a secret. A mistake. The mousy girl should know when it was her turn to keep her mouth shut like he told her. Beau clenched his fists until his knuckles popped. “You’ll find out soon enough,” Holly answered when she finally turned his way. The wood paneled station wagon pulled into the large gravel and dirt parking lot. The large and lonely store had more of a warehouse look than a home to retail. It sat like an empty island in the middle of nowhere. It was just a short drive from Lovington, but felt like a more different domain, and had a different feel about the whole thing. A long faded tarp was stretched across the front windows. A mainsail that billowed in the mild breeze that also kicked up a bit of dust. On the tarp was a handwritten message in what he guessed was shoe polish: Welcome to Webber’s Open at our new location Now with more influence Now with more inspiration However, the baby store was far from a ghost town. Dozens of workers in white overalls shuffled boxes around like drones with orders specifically from the queen. There was sawdust all around the door, he could even see the tell-tale signs of new construction from far away. Beau looked around at the chaos. "Is this place even open yet?" "It is by appointment," Holly commented as she opened the car door. She quickly caught onto his reluctance. "What? Are you afraid of going into a baby store? I thought you were some kind of tough guy." Beau shook his head. Stay ahead of this, and don’t let her get to you. "I'm not scared, it's just weird. What kind of bogus baby store needs an appointment to go buy diapers? Don’t babies use them all the time?” “Always on about the diapers,” Christine commented. “As if babies didn’t do anything besides pee and poop. Men are so clueless sometimes, am I right?” “Back off Christine,” Beau cracked. “I’m just trying to make conversation.” Vanessa was already outside of the car. "No need to get all defensive, baby Beau." That was it. They had challenged his masculine superiority, and if they started into this baby nonsense, they would never stop. He had to get ahead of this. Yeah, he was notoriously childish. Yeah, he was outnumbered. Yeah, the girls were acting kind of weird. Yeah, he was running out of yeahs. He'd overpower them with his powerful personality, let the 'Lover Boy' show. Well, not that ‘Lover Boy’. He'd get arrested for showing that off in this — empty parking lot. They were the only car there. No other customers, judging by the size of the building, for a huge department store. There were big moving trucks in the front, but those belonged to the workers. The same could be said about a small row of vans and sedans parked along the backside of the store. How had he just now noticed the empty lot? There was a cloudy feeling in his head. He tried to shake it off. He'd felt this way before, it felt like a hangover, but he hadn’t had anything to drink since wrecking the firebird. No. It reminded him of getting his ‘bell rung’ while playing football. Which was ‘coach speak’ for taking a bad shot to the helmet, which was bad news because his head was in there. A hard tackle could send his brain ricocheting inside his skull, resulting in subtle, temporary brain damage. The world would ring for a few minutes, or longer; and you were supposed to shake it off, not let it bother you, and battle the headache that sometimes lasted for days. That’s what it felt like, confusing, foggy headed, and hard to focus. Beau pulled at the inside handle of the car door, hoping the fresh air would alleviate all of this cloudiness. He pulled at the handle, and the door didn't move. He wiggled his hand to re-grip, and then he tried again. No. He roughly grabbed it with both hands and started violently shaking it back and forth. "You coming or not, Beau?" Holly leaned into the doorway from her side of the car. "It's just this fuc-, I mean this stupid door." He tempered his language for his angry mother, who was already working on her next cigarette outside. That habit was going to be her death, and maybe not soon enough. "You can always come out my side," Holly offered. "NO! I'm going through this. banging. door!" Beau knew he was being irrational, it was all irrational. His head felt hot as he strained against the unrelenting station wagon. He needed to show off his strength and beat this unopenable door, pop it open like a pickle jar for these women. That would get them to leave him alone. Christine waited just outside the car, watching his pathetic attempts through the window before figuring out the hold up, and opening the door from the outside. "That's the problem,” Christine observed. “It looks like the child lock was accidentally engaged. No need to throw a hissy fit, Beau." “It wasn’t a hissy fit,” Beau argued as he stepped outside and flipped his jacket collar. “Throwing a temper tantrum like a toddler, maybe Beau needs a timeout.” Vanessa giggled at her own joke. “Or he could use a spanking,” Christine added. Roll with the punches, Beau. Let them have their laughs, they were laughing with him, and not at him, right? There really wasn’t a difference, it’s what the dweebs told themselves to make themselves feel better about being dweebs. He calmed himself as the group set off towards the store. It wasn’t worth making a scene, he already made a fool of himself with the stupid door, with the stupid child lock. How had that thing been engaged? There hadn’t been a baby in the backseat in almost two decades, and Beau was an only child with no little cousins in the family tree. "You're going to want to behave yourself here," Holly warned as they all made their way across the dirt parking lot. "I've heard some strange stories about Elizabeth Webber. Also known as 'Ma'." "Like what?" Beau hurried to walk even with the smaller girl. "The first being that she's really into old school discipline, one of those grannies that still believes that humiliation is the best teacher." Holly actually sounded close to admiring this woman, Beau made it a point to steer clear of someone like she was describing. Mrs. Taylor whispered, "Maybe she can be the one to fix Beau." "What was that, mom?" Beau turned on his mother. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?" She didn't have to answer. He didn’t want to be the one to admit that his mom was right. There was something wrong with him. A dark part of him that did something wrong, that couldn't handle how wrong he went, and Beau knew it. That mistake with that mousy girl. Forever wiping the smile off her face every time she saw him. Being the 'Lover Boy' had its drawbacks. He couldn't hide behind the ultra-confident persona when Holly was around. Why was she even here? Why was he even here? He could just walk away, but he found his feet leading him to the store instead of the fledgling sunset. “And the second?” Beau’s curiosity was getting the better of him. “About ‘Ma’ Webber?” Holly pretended to be surprised. “Well, let’s just say if you act like a child, she'll treat you like one. So try to act your age for once.” Vanessa giggled. “Lay off the threatening, Holly. He’ll find out soon enough.” Beau asked, “Find out what?” “About the true meaning of diaper discipline,” Christine finished the conversation. Then she glared at Beau. He stopped with his mouth open, the girls didn’t really mean what they were saying. This had to be a prank, a way to mess with his head. And it was working. The girls continued inside while Beau hung around in the parking lot, going over the building one last time before joining them. The workers that hustled around him didn’t talk as they removed products from the backs of a pair of large white trucks, sometimes one at a time, for bigger things they worked in twos. He had to move to the side as two of the gruff men in faded white overalls and white hats pulled a huge car seat from the store, heading past him towards the parking lot. Beau stopped to watch the men struggle with big plastic safety-chair. Then he finally realized what the workers reminded him of, Oompa-Loompas. These guys were like a cross-breed between a biker gang and Oompa-Loompas. Except the little orange fellas sang as they worked, these guys only wore a scowl for their minimum wage. Still, the size of that carseat was something he couldn't get over. It looked like it could sit an adult, the various straps and buckles seemed thicker as well. It reminded him of a strait jacket, and it gave him the Heebie-jeebies. "Dude, did you guys catch the size of that carseat?" No one heard him. The girls were already inside, meeting Miss Elizabeth ‘Ma’ Webber, collecting a shopping list, and deciding how to best split the load. They had to get ready for a baby shower tonight.

*Edit: I've been a reader for a long time, and around this time last year I decided to start writing ABDL stories to eventually post. There was a bit of a learning curve, I wrote a few stories that failed for various reasons, but it was important to me to post a story that was finished. I started working on Without Merit in October. It's around 30 chapters long, and I'm wrapping up the final chapters as of the posting of Chapter 1. I'm really proud of the results, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for reading. All characters are over 18. Story contains sexual content. ................ About Lovington Lovington is somewhere in middle America, a place where the highways give away into county roads, where franchises are few and far between. That's not to say that it's a backwater, Lovington is exactly as pristine as the American dream, and as common as ice cream with an apple pie. It's a typical American small town with a small shopping mall, a local cinema, its main street is main street. The people are kind, generous and almost as bland as the town itself. A town that blends into the area, that isn't even a blip on the map. It's always out of everyone's mind, and the people of Lovington like it that way. There is nothing suspicious about Lovington, that's why it was a great location for a secret laboratory. All the while, this laboratory in Lovington ran along, melting budgets with no real breakthroughs — then one day, there was one. They finally opened a door and only one thing came out before it closed again: the cube. 0 Boredom is its own kind of inspiration. It was well established among the teenagers that the small town of Lovington was boring, nothing ever happened here. Even as it was happening. However, the strange place had plenty of inspiration to share with everyone. A quiet influence swam throughout the city like an invisible fog, a feeling that something was moving behind the curtain, a feeling not everyone noticed or that anyone could shake. The Hartmann house was a three story affair, if you count the game room in the basement. The below ground man cave was wall to wall in wood paneling, a throwback from the 1980s when that was in fashion. The three girls inside looked as bored as the decor, draped on the pair of couches and the single creaky, padded lazy boy chair. Katie Nguyen lounged on the shorter couch, her long athletic legs hung over the other end of the sofa. Charity Brown held a pillow across her chest and was the only one watching the box shaped tv. Marisa Hartmann rested in the giant chair, swiping through selfie filters until she found one good enough to post. "Men are so easy,” Charity sighed. "I think you mean boys are easy, there aren't any men that go to our school," Marisa clarified. She lifted her phone above her head to take another semi-down the shirt selfie. “Nothing but immature boys,” Katie added. All three girls nodded in agreement before going back to whatever they were doing, but Charity wasn't ready to let this drop. There was something bothering her, and she had no idea how to express her feelings. So she complained to her friends until they helped her figure herself out. Being a teenager was strange. "It’s so annoying because it's so lame,” Charity continued. “I’m over being romanced, getting flowers, and getting bored again.” “Sounds like you need to get laid,” Marisa said with a grin. Katie raised an eyebrow in consideration to Charity, who still stared blankly at the tv screen. “I can get laid, that’s not the problem and you both know it,” Charity argued. “We both know that you’re an easy slut?” Marisa prodded. “Ha ha, very funny.” Charity rolled her eyes. They were close enough friends to let this joke pass, but no self respecting girl liked being called a slut. Charity was mostly self respecting, at least to those who didn’t truly know her. It was fine that she liked sex, and not just the regular sex that she could get from almost any boy at the school. Charity liked weird sex, like back page experimental Cosmo magazine stuff; she found herself bored too easily, like she was right now in the retro game room at Marisa’s. And when she was bored, she thought about sex. The lithe blonde cheerleader sat up and threw the lifeless pillow into the opposite corner of the couch, preparing to get on her soapbox. The commotion was dramatic enough for Marisa to actually get off the phone and actually pay attention to her. “No, think about it, Mars. You and I both know we can get whatever we ask for from just about anyone. We can get in the backseat from a football player, or in the bathroom between classes from the weird/moody, silent kid. If we want an older guy, we’d just troll a bar with a fake ID; but we’re so pretty we wouldn’t even need one. I bet that we could even bag a teacher, like even a married one. Don’t you think that’s boring?” Katie blushed furiously as Marisa considered her words. For a typical blonde, Charity made a good point every now and then. However, Marisa wanted to see where Charity was planning on going with this, and also she wanted to see just how red Katie’s face could get from embarrassment. Charity wasn’t wrong, but she over-calculated just how horny Marisa actually was. It’d be cool and all to get caught up in a whirlwind romance with an older guy, or married man. That being said, she wasn’t one to open her legs at the drop of a hat like Charity. “So what’s your point?” Marisa asked. “I’m not trying to make a point, I’m just saying I’m bored,” Charity said. The cheerleader went back to flipping between channels with an ancient tv remote with tape wrapped around the battery pack. It was Marisa’s turn to not let things go, if something was bothering her friend, she’d at least want to know the cause, it was her game room after all. “Alright, if you’re that bored you should move onto threesomes and gangbangs. You know your way to the boys locker room, you’ve done it in their showers before, right?” Katie choked. “You’ve been in the boy’s locker room?” “Shut up virgin!” Charity snickered. It was an A and B conversation and Katie needed to C her way out. Katie’s virginity was well-renowned in her circle of friends. She was the athletic type, more interested in good grades and Martial Arts tournaments than dating. It wasn’t that she was ugly, quite the opposite. Katie was tall with almond shaped eyes and well defined muscles. Her honor student lifestyle, addiction to Tae Kwon Do, and most importantly her old fashioned Asian parents, did not allow the quick hook-ups like other girls her age. “I’m just saying I want something different, a kinky relationship without the banging — like fifty shades or something.” Charity tapped the remote against her chin. “I love that movie,” Katie quipped. Virgins just didn’t know when to shut up. Marisa decided it was time to give some sort of advice, Katie was getting no where with Charity. “So why don’t you find a billionaire to tie you up and spank you?” Marisa asked. “Who said I won’t be the one doing the spanking?” Marisa laughed, Katie blushed, but Charity was still deep in thought. They were at some sort of impasse, and she had no idea what she even wanted to hear. She was bored, kinda horny, and she wanted to play a game. The idea of being the ‘spanker’ was just a quick comeback to her friend, but Charity found it intriguing and worth a second thought. “I think we’re onto something, about the whole school being boys not men and whatnot. Wouldn’t it be kinky to be in charge of a boy like we were cougars? We could put them under our control, and force them to satisfy even our nastiest fantasies. I mean, really push the envelope.” “So what did you have in mind?” Marisa purred. She could be classically sexy when she wanted. Marisa was one of those girls that woke up perfect, olive colored skin came without the tanning bed, she had long eyelashes and barely had to apply any makeup at all because being beautiful just came naturally to her. Just like her former actress, supermodel mom. “I don’t know, maybe it will come to me,” Charity said. Still nothing came to her except a hot, churning feeling nestled between her legs. She felt the need to squeeze her thighs together, then do it again — harder. Charity softly bit her lip as she hungrily watched television. Maybe she did just need to get laid. That was when she saw the commercial that gave her the idea. At first, Charity wanted to laugh so she covered her mouth. Then she had to stifle something else, a moan. This was naughty, way naughtier than anything she’d ever thought about before. By far the naughtiest daydream while watching television. Charity flashed Marisa a wicked grin from the couch prompting her to say something. “Alright Chars, what’s on your dirty mind?” Charity crawled from the couch to whisper in her friend’s ear. Her words lost to those outside her cupped hand, but Katie tried to figure out what she was saying by watching their faces. The curiosity was killing her, she hated being left out and this felt super juicy. Marisa started off looking a little confused, then she frowned, and then she laughed. It wasn’t until Charity finished her sales pitch that Marisa featured the same wonton look as her friend. Marisa asked, “Is that really a thing?” “It totally is, I read about it online months ago,” Charity answered. “What kind of guy would even allow you to do that to him?” Charity raised her eyebrows and gave Marisa a knowing look. They were the best of friends, almost at mind reader level. “You know you already have a boy wrapped around your finger,” said the blonde cheerleader. It was Marisa’s turn to blush, she knew just who Charity was talking about. He was cute but not boyfriend material, safely tucked away in the friend zone where he belonged. At the same time, the cheerleader was right about him being wrapped around her finger, but that didn’t mean he’d be into the craziness Charity was proposing. However, Marisa was intrigued by this erotically charged challenge, how far would a boy go to please them? Especially a pushover like him. Marisa asked, “Just how —?” “We could condition him like a Pavlov dog, get him hungry with every ring of the bell. With our feminine wiles we could have him jumping through hoops in no time. Just think of it as a makeover, but with a twist." The two girls laughed as the commercial continued on just in front of them. Katie was officially out of the loop, her eyes jumping from the giggling girls and the television trying to deduct what she was missing. She'd had enough of waiting, so she stood from the couch. “What are you guys talking about? And what does that have to do with Pampers?” …. 1 “No way!” That’s what Adam wanted to say when Marisa invited him to her lake house for the four day weekend. It had to be a prank or something, why would a popular girl want to spend time with a pipsqueak like himself? This was beyond the pale of believability, and it had a dreamlike quality that could just be pinched away. Sure, they shared a few classes together throughout their time in high school. He often helped her with her homework, which actually meant he did it himself, but that was always the plight of smart guys with pretty girls. The closest the two got was when Marisa played the role of his mom in the school play, 'Mother Knows Best'. However, those connections were hardly the means to be invited to a lake house. When he thought about it, he wasn't even sure they were friends, and he had expected her to disown him at her earliest convenience. Marisa was so far out of his league that they weren't even playing the same sport. She looked like a trending movie star, had the etiquette of a princess, and she practically ran the school with her personality alone. As for her body, her mom was some kind of bikini model, and the apple didn’t fall too far from the scantily-clad tree. Marisa often wore short shorts to show off her long legs and halter tops to show off her naturally tan skin. Her hair was the color of honey and caramel, finding a soft niche between blonde and brunette. She was also homecoming queen as if there was any doubt. Adam asked, "Why me?" Marisa didn’t give him an answer, she just giggled. He agreed to go anyways, but that was before he found out that Charity and Katie were going as well. Now, he would be the only boy in a lake house with three of the hottest girls in his grade. "No way!" That’s what his friends all said when he told them how he was planning to spend his weekend. They worshipped him like he’d pulled off the impossible, like he’d found the holy grail. Jerry joked, "Hold on, wasn't Marisa the one who was your mom in the play -- wouldn’t that make her a MILF?” There was plenty of laughter and high fives to go around, they all told jokes at his expense. Adam regretted letting his plans slip. When they realized that he was telling the truth, his entire table had a bit of an overreaction. His friends turned into howler monkeys — bouncing around the table, banging their chests with their hands, and victoriously pumping their fists into the air. They fantasized and strategized on how he could bed all three girls, maybe at the same time. The commotion caused the whole cafeteria to stare, and that made Adam want to disappear. Out of all his nerdy friends, Jeremy typically razzed on him the most. He was a self-proclaimed love expert, and even he looked borderline jealous of Adam. He reminded him that this was how pornos started, 'hot chicks with a helpless geek'. They surrounded Adam in a makeshift football huddle around the table, game planning what his next move should be, and how he should best handle this 'opportunity'. His mom would probably complain about all of the locker room talk, but Adam was happy that his mom wasn't there to hear what was being said. He kept his hands over his face to hide his blushing cheeks. He let out a couple of nervous laughs to play off his unease, but he didn't touch his lunch. Good things weren’t supposed to happen to the wallflower, the outcast. There comes a time in everyone’s life where they evaluate themselves against the hopeless backdrop of their peers — a measurement of deviation from normalcy. It didn’t take long for Adam to see how different he was from most eighteen year olds. He was short and scrawny, and small enough to still shop in the kids section. Adam never had to shave, even the freshmen had stubble. It was like the puberty fairy forgot to sprinkle dust on him while he slept. He even played the cute little kid in the school play. Everyone laughed at the jokes, they coo’ed and aww’ed at him, all the while he was a senior in high school. He wasn't bad looking, both his mom and grandma said he was handsome. That’s two women spanning two generations, that had to count for something, right? Adam was shy and struggled to talk to girls, he was a virgin and never had a girlfriend because he was afraid if he asked they’d say -- “No way!” Okay, he was better with girls than he gave himself credit. Jeremy often marveled at how well he did with the opposite sex despite being so clueless. He was the opposite of Adam, Jeremy kept up with the latest fashions, dressed the part and quoted GQ like it was scripture. His reputation for unsuccessfully chasing skirt, and his palpable desperation, led to him turning off every girl at school. However, he still lectured Adam almost daily in how to get girls. Just like he was doing now. Jeremy advised, “You’ve got to have the confidence to be yourself if you want to seal the deal.” The irony was not lost on Adam; he did his best to ignore him, he didn’t want to be the one to burst his friend’s bubble. Adam just looked at things differently, his friends all changed as they grew older — everyone except Adam. Friday nights were no longer about pizza and late night video game sessions, there were no more nerf wars with walkie-talkies in the woods; now, all his crew cared about was getting laid. Adam wasn’t like them. He still played with action figures, watched cartoons and he loved wearing his Pokémon shirts to school. Like Ash Ketchum, Pokémon was timeless. It’s not like he wasn’t interested in girls, his life didn't revolve around hooking up. The situation at school didn't help matters, he was prime pickings for a lot of random harassment from his female classmates. When he walked down the halls, he got his hair ruffled, butt goosed, a couple of times he was even carried off by a pack of giggling girls. It wasn't anything sexual, it was just how they'd flirt with a senior that looked like an 8th grader. They also gave him kindly nicknames, calling him 'squirt', 'honey', 'baby'. They treated him like a kid brother, not potential boyfriend material. “No way!” That’s what Adam thought his mom would say when he asked her if he could spend the weekend at a lake house with three girls. This wouldn't pass her puritanical smell test for sure. However, she surprised him with the biggest smile and a sincere happy mommy hug. Adam still got those at eighteen. Then she asked, “Honey, do we need to talk about safe sex?” “No way!” Adam wanted to scream, but he just shook his head. She did so anyways, for an entirely painful 30 minutes, Adam never wanted to hear about the birds and bees ever again. The following day he found a box of condoms on his pillow, a gift from mom. How come everyone was viewing this lake house invitation as a VIP ticket to orgyville? Of course he knew of all three girls, they were school-wide royalty with perfect hair and perfect bodies to match. Cool seemed to always stick with them and change with them like seasons. They were the unapologetic trend setters, who all girls wanted to be and whom all boys wanted to be with. Charity was a blonde, everyone knows the type, a cliche valley girl that began each sentence with OMG and spelled out LOL instead of laughing. Her clothes were expensive but always bought on sale. She wasn’t really rude, she just tried really hard to make it seem like she didn’t care. Adam knew for a fact that she did, back in sophomore year, she stopped a few members of the football team from putting him in a locker. She had a reputation as a girl that went all the way, which meant as much to Adam as the weather on the moon. Katie was more of a mystery. The Asian girl was a blackbelt in TaeKwonDo, genuinely polite and caring. Her GPA was through the roof, and she won an award in just about everything she did. Her intelligence was just as intimidating as her muscles, she was athletic and quick to solve a math problem. As far as Adam knew, she never had a boyfriend. It seemed like the dating scene passed by them both. The boys at his table had different ways to describe the girls, they made hand gestures regarding their curves, they kissed at the air like lovesick fools. Jeremy asked, "So you're going to film this right? You're going to make an epic porno." "Um... No way," muttered Adam. This would not end in sex, he thought to himself. However, there was a secret in the duffle bag cradled between his feet. Safely tucked away in a sock was the box of condoms his mother had bought him. There was no way that he'd put anything on video, even though the thought did excite him a bit. That'd be one way to get back at Jeremy for razzing him about his virginity for the last four years. Adam looked around to see his support group had turned on him, no longer regarding him as the king of the table, only as the loser who wouldn't give them what they wanted. The energy deflated like a worn balloon. Adam hated himself for telling them his weekend plans, but he also hated disappointing them. So he did what all cowards did, he gave in. "Okay, fine. If anything happens I'll try to catch it on video." Adam expected them to cheer, chant his name, and carry him around the cafeteria, but they all fell silent. Their eyes went wide, their jaws dropped open with shocked expressions on their faces, he was surprised by the effect his words had on them. He was even more surprised to hear Marisa's voice come from behind him. “What do you plan to catch on video?” Adam felt the dual sensation of panic and humiliation when he wondered just how much she had heard. The world reeled in slow motion as he turned from the table to see not only Marisa, but Charity and Katie as well. They all had the same look on their faces, the same kind that his mom had when he did something bad. He ran his hand through his shaggy hair, he had no idea what to say, so he nervously chuckled while looking to his friends for help. Jeremy turned his back on him, whistling like he had nothing to do with operation Amatuer Pornstar. It looked like Adam was already on his own, some group of friends that he had. "I was hoping to make a nature video. You know, of the animals around the lake." A surprising solid 3 star save in the clutch! Right on cue, the boys around him nodded in agreement, someone muttered something about squirrels. It looked like everyone believed Adam except for the three girls. Katie crossed her muscular arms, Charity rolled her eyes, and Marisa had her hands on her hips as if to say: "No way..." "I'm sure you care all about the wildlife," Charity groaned. She had plenty of experience with bad boyfriends and could sniff out a masculine lie like a bloodhound. Marisa seemed the quickest to shrug it off. "My mom just pulled up, are you all packed and ready for our trip?" Jealousy emanated from his friends as they left the boys at the table. The ones who were about to throw a parade in his honor were now giving him sideways glances like he was the first one to shout bingo in a room full of grannies. He was no longer wanted at this table, and he was pretty certain that he wouldn't be until he came back with a scandalous video. That probably wouldn't happen, because despite the peer pressure, Adam still thought that it was a bad idea. Katie asked, "Are you excited?" The taller girl slugged him in the arm, harder than she probably intended, she was a black belt after all. He managed to nod back at her. Adam was not a fan of small talk, and he had to stop himself from throwing up when he opened his mouth. He said something that sounded like 'yeah', but it was more of a grunt than a word, so he cleared his throat and said it again. It still came out as a mumbling mess. The hallway to the car seemed to go on forever, how was he supposed to talk to these girls this weekend? Adam wanted to open up, shake off the shyness, but he was still a mumbling, bumbling idiot. Two conflicting thoughts battled in his mind as he shuffled in silence. The first, that his friends were wrong, and this wouldn’t be some sort of sexy party with a wild romp with these girls. This was highly likely, and the most probable outcome, but some leftover mystery still lingered — what if they were right? What if he was heading into a trap where these girls would bang him all weekend? It sounded like a fantasy, but it made him want to throw up. Both thoughts were equally nerve racking, and he couldn’t think of anything else. Marisa put her arm around him and shook him awake. "Come on, Adam. We're going to have a great time this weekend. We've been looking forward to hanging out with you, so there's no need to be nervous." He melted a little bit when she flashed a smile at him. "We're going to have LOADS of fun,” Charity giggled. There was a red luxury SUV in the parking lot, a beautiful woman leaned against the passenger side door like a Bond girl. Her long blonde hair swayed in the wind, same as her loose fitting turquoise summer dress that looked like it was ripped straight from a fashion magazine. She looked like she was high maintenance but worth every penny. Marisa pointed to her. "It looks like my mom is here. Adam, why don't you say hello while we load up all the bags in the back?" "No Way!" Is what Adam thought when he saw Marisa's mom for the first time. Jeremy liked to use the word MILF to describe any woman over the age of thirty, but that's the exact way Adam would describe her. She had aged out of pretty but matured into beautiful. The nerves rose up again, and he chose to look at his feet rather than make eye contact with her. He wanted to snap out of it, say something witty or polite, but he just walked in front of her and stood there expectantly. Like a mute. Mrs. Hartmann leaned down and ruffled his shaggy brown hair. "So you're this Adam that Marisa keeps talking about. I recognize you from the play, you look a little bit older when you're not wearing a sailor suit." A bit puzzled, Adam looked down at his Pikachu t-shirt and khaki shorts, then remembered what he wore for the play. Yes, he wore a sailor suit to make him look more like a kid. As if his genes didn’t do that enough already. “Yeah, those aren’t my regular clothes,” Adam mumbled. "I'm sure they weren't, but you did look so cute. I'd say that you were the audience's second favorite, and you memorized your lines so well. We were so proud of you, weren't we Marisa?" "We sure were," Marisa commented as she circled around the front of the car and hopped into the passenger seat. The hot mom extended her hand to shake his, Adam just meekly put his hands in hers. "My name is Lindsey Hartmann, and I'll be your driver today. You better be on your best behavior, I won't hesitate to give you a firm smack on the behind if you get out of line with any of these girls." Adam couldn't tell if she was joking or not, she was as difficult to read as Shakespeare with a stutter. However, he didn't like the sound of being spanked at all. There was something so demeaning and childish about that particular punishment. Adam had an active imagination. In his mind he saw himself draped over her lap — and he stopped himself from thinking about it even further because his face was turning pink. Marisa rolled down the window. “Aren't you going to join us?" Everyone was already inside the car by the time Adam recovered. He opened the door to the back seat to find Katie and Charity already comfortable and watching him expectantly. He stepped inside only to find a pink booster seat in the last open spot. Not only was it pink, it was a princess themed toddler chair covered with glittering magic wands, butterflies and fairy wings. A large sparkling tiara featured prominently where his butt would be. He wanted to say so bad — "No Way!" Really? Were they expecting him to sit in a chair for toddlers? Adam fumbled around the back of the booster looking for a way to pull it off the seat so he could actually sit down. It was tied to the backseat by some force beyond science, he certainly couldn't figure out where. Adam pulled and jerked at the chair while the whole car watched him make a fool out of himself. "Is there a problem?" Marisa asked from the front. "No, I'm just trying to move this car seat so I can sit down," Adam answered. "Could you do me a big favor and just deal with it this time?" Marisa asked politely. "We put the seat in for my baby cousin, and it was a real hassle that we do not want to do again. My mom is planning on taking her to the zoo next week." Marisa had a way of making Adam do whatever she wanted, the magic formula was her good looks and powerful charisma with a dash of his lack of backbone. She could easily put him under her spell. He felt helpless to her words; then again, a car seat was a car seat. Lines had to be drawn somewhere. Adam complained, "I don't think I'd even fit, I'm not a little kid." There the chair sat, its intentions evil to the core, and Adam wasn't planning on sitting in it — that was until Charity slapped the seat with her hand, which startled him. She didn't have to say a word, she just gave him a look. He was beginning to hate these girls and their looks. But once again like a coward, he gave in. He climbed into the car seat without any more protest. The arms on the booster were snug around his waist, but besides that, he did fit. Adam frowned when he did. Marisa snaked her hand from around the front seat and gave his thigh a squeeze. "And you thought you were too big," Marisa laughed. "Well, I —“ Lindsey interrupted, "Aren't you going to buckle up?" Adam desperately wanted to argue, say something about being an adult, but everything around him seemed to move too fast. In a flash, Charity deftly pulled the seat belt over him, her hands sliding uncomfortably through his comfort space, barely above his no-no zone, but the boy was flabbergasted already. Too many girls, too little of space, and princess themed car seats had a way of getting to someone. "Alright, he's locked up tight. Let's get this show on the road," Charity announced.

This is a story commission for Andy Bozu. The character in this story is a school-age boy. Nothing sexual happens, but I would still give this a PG rating and must offer a warning that the story contains scenes of WETTING and MESSING. The story is 10k words long. Andy Becomes The Face Of Big Boy Poofers Pampers An abdl story for Andy by AMR As soon as Mommy Maureen saw the newspaper ad it had already been decided. This was definitely a contest she could enter her adorable little boy in. He was right around the age, he was cute, and he had even done some acting for school plays. Lynn had shown the ad to her mother first. The little girl was 7 ¾ years old, but already far more mature than her big brother who she hated sharing the bathroom with. He was always sprinkling on the seat and around the floor or forgetting to flush or leaving his dingy, stained underpants on the floor after having his bath. She thought he’d be the perfect model for tween boy sized diapers since he was such a big baby anyway! If she had her way, he’d wear them all the time and she’d finally get the bathroom all to herself. “You’ve been talking about putting him back in diapers for a while, mom.” Lynn said with a smirk. Her hair was black, like her mother’s except with a white streak going through it. Her eyes were a deep blue color. She looked very similar to her brother except for her hair. “Well I didn’t want to.” Maureen said with a long sigh. “But maybe entering him in this contest will give him incentive to try a little harder with his potty training.” The ladies of the house had clearly had enough with Andy’s poor toilet habits. What they did not realize is that their actions from here on out would set in motion Andy’s eventual rise to fame and personal humiliation, as well as his total dependence on diapers. ~~~ PART 1: Andy Auditions Andy had a shock of white hair with bright blue eyes and soft, gentle skin. He was a bit shorter than boys his age, and his sister was nearly caught up to him in height, being only a couple inches shorter than him. He was lithe and delicate, no muscle definition, but he was just 10 years old, so he still had time to catch up to the other boys in his grade. He was wearing his favorite gray shirt and his lucky jeans which were covered in many stains, but as they were acid-wash he could get away with it without anyone noticing. The boy kicked off his sneakers and tossed his backpack on the couch as he wandered into the living room. He paused and saw a package of diapers on the coffee table. The package, which had been ripped open already, was sitting in the closet for a while now. The last time he saw this package was when he was wetting the bed a month ago. He wasn’t wetting the bed anymore! At least, as far as his mother knew. Was this because he wasn’t wiping himself properly? Andy had explained that they’re his underwear and no one sees them anyway since he didn’t have a girlfriend, and this just elicited eyerolls from his mother. He wasn’t sure what the diapers were for, but he didn’t want to stick around and find out. He grabbed his backpack, lifting it from the floor and hurrying towards the stairs. He had to stop when he looked up and saw his sister at the top of the stairs, hands on her hips and a smug grin on her face. “Hey, Andy!” Lynn giggled. “Me and Mommy have a surprise for you!” Andy’s heart raced. The last time he saw Lynn giving him that look he was getting a diaper punishment. He didn’t do anything wrong this time though! “Come on, Andy, we have a little job for you.” Maureen came up behind Andy, pulling his wrist and bringing him back into the living room. Lynn came down the stairs, holding her mommy’s professional digital camera, the high quality one that took very large, detailed photographs. Mommy Maureen had done photography in the past as a hobby, mostly taking pictures of nature or glamour shots for her friends. It had been so long since she actually picked up the hobby again and this was the perfect excuse to get back into it. Before Andy could ask any questions, Maureen pulled his shirt off and then his jeans and socks. She wrinkled the bridge of her nose as she saw your underwear. “You won the bet, Lynn. They’re already dirty, and it’s not even old stains. I guess you can have that soda I promised you.” Andy stood naked, trying to cover himself as Lynn set up the camera on the tripod. She adjusted it the best she could, but she knew Mommy would know how to prepare the shot better. Meanwhile, Maureen whipped out one of the thick diapers and spread it out on the coffee table. She picked up her little boy and set him on his back, placing his butt on the diaper. “Mom!” Andy let out a drawn-out whine, “What did I do?” “Oh hush, sweetie.” Maureen sighed. “We just want you to do a little modeling! I promise, after we’re done this we’ll order a pizza.” Andy’s mind raced. What did she mean by modeling? He looked down sheepishly as his mother grabbed his ankles and lifted his bottom. She wiped him down, her hand so gentle as she corrected Andy’s poor wiping with a better, more skilled hand. Andy made a face when he saw the dirty baby wipe moved from his body and tossed in the trash. Was he really that bad at wiping? Maureen shook the baby powder into his open diaper, having to smack his hands out of the way as he was trying to cover himself. She folded the soft, crinkly padding up between his legs and brought the tapes towards the center. She gave the diaper a few soft pats on the front, letting powder rise around him. “I still got it.” “Now, Andy, why don’t you stand in front of the fireplace?” Mommy picked her boy up and carried him to the mark she set on the floor, just a little strip of duct tape. She went to her camera, adjusting the tripod and looking through the viewfinder. She saw Andy stand there, shy and sheepish, with his hands trying to cover his big diaper. Mommy took a few pictures of him just like this, chuckling to herself. “Now that’s precious.” She thought. “Honey, could you look into the camera?” The woman asked in her sickeningly saccharine tone. “I don’t wanna.” Andy pouted, hands still feebly trying to hide his big diaper. “Come on, show us your pampers!” Lynn giggled. The little sister’s taunt was enough to make Andy look up with a pout, balling up his fists. His mommy took some opportune pictures of that as well. “Now, honey, are you going to cooperate or not? If you don’t want any pizza tonight I guess you can just have the vegetable casserole that’s in the fridge instead.” Mommy said, threatening him. “I want pizza.” Andy’s big blue eyes glanced back up, looking towards the camera. A few more pictures were snapped as he was in this vulnerable position. He thought for a moment, wondering how he could turn this situation to his advantage. “Can we have ice cream for dessert too?” “We’ll have to see, Andy.” Maureen smiled. She watched as her boy stood properly like he was getting a portrait. His giggling sister was loving this. She’d rather have a baby brother still in diapers. He was much cuter to look at for one thing. “Could you turn around for me?” Andy followed his mother’s direction and turned to face away from the camera. Maureen instructed him to bend over next. Andy groaned and just tried to think about how he was going to get rewarded with pizza and ice cream later. He bent over with his hands on his knees, his padded rump pointed right at the camera. Mommy made him do a few more poses, showing off his diapers as much as possible as well as his face. In a few she was lucky enough to get him to show his beautiful smile. The woman started thinking he might actually be able to win this contest. “Can I take these off now?” Andy whined, clutching the diaper. “Oh no, those things are expensive!” Maureen batted the boy’s hands away. “You just stay in those nappies for the rest of the day, and when you have to potty just use them like you seem to enjoy using your pants.” “I don’t use my pants!” Andy insisted defensively. “I sure don’t enjoy it!” “That’s funny, sure looks that way to me.” Lynn said, holding out his old, soiled underwear at arms length, having just picked it up off the floor. She pinched her nose to over-emphasize the smell. Andy didn’t fight back, not wanting to have this conversation anymore and hoping everyone would just move on. ~ The pizza had arrived and Andy made himself scarce in the dining room. He didn’t want the delivery driver to see him wearing nothing but his diaper. He thought about what his mother said earlier. Was he really going to have to use these stupid pampers? Sure, sometimes he had an accident in his pants, but he never did it on purpose! He grumbled to himself, ducking down into his chair bashfully and wishing Mommy and Lynn would hurry up, bringing the pizza over already. Mommy and Lynn arrived in the kitchen. Mommy set the pizza on the table, right in the center. Andy had set the table, hoping that his small attempt at showing maturity would impress his mother and she wouldn’t make him use his diaper. A big bottle of soda was set on the table as well. “I think Andy should have a sippy cup… and a bib!” Lynn giggled. “Don’t tease your brother, Lynn. Let’s just see if he can keep from spilling his drink or getting his pizza on himself before we decide on those things.” Maureen gently lectured her daughter. “If he gets pizza or soda on himself then maybe we’ll consider it!” Andy was so sure he wouldn’t dribble on himself. As he held his slice of pizza over his plate carefully he felt a pressure in his rear end. He wasn’t about to poop himself, not with his little sister there to tease him. He brought his leg up to his chair and tried sitting on his heel, a trick he used when on long car trips. Sitting on his heel and having it pressed to his bottom relieved some of the pressure, keeping his poop in. He glanced out the corner of his eye and he could see his sister looking at him with a knowing smile. In this seated position it was hard for him to reach his plate. He tried to eat carefully but still ended up dripping pizza on his chest. “I told you, Mom! He needs a bib!” Lynn said, giggling. “Right again, honey. You’ve been a real smart cookie lately.” Maureen took out a napkin and wiped the pizza dripping from Andy’s chest. She then tied a bib around his neck. There was a puppy on the front of it, playing in a mud puddle. Andry groaned. The boy took careful sips from his glass of soda, focusing all his energy on not spilling any so he can show he wasn’t some big baby who needed to be washed up and looked after. That’s when the pressure on his rump was getting too great. He kept his foot in place, desperately trying not to poop himself, but the thick log of poop came out anyway and got squished all over as his heel was pressed to his rear. He clenched his teeth, wondering if Lynn could figure out he was pooping himself. Of course she knew, watching him with a smug grin. “Mom! Andy’s pooping!” Lynn said, so self satisfied. “I think we all could tell, dear. He’s our stinky baby boy!” Maureen smiled, not seeming to mind her 10 year old son soiling himself at the dinner table. Andy finished his second slice of pizza and whimpered. He moved his heel out of the way and sat in his chair proper once more. He felt the poop sticking to his bottom. It was all mashed up and spread around inside his diaper. He thought for sure his mother would insist on changing him right there, but she let him sit in the diaper for now. When dinner was finished, Mommy Maureen gathered the dishes and glasses, setting them in the sink. She put away the soda and made sure to take out the extra can of soda from the fridge that she promised Lynn. “Mom, can I get a change now?” Andy whispered to the woman, tugging on her dress. “Later, dear. Go watch tv with your sissy.” Maureen stood at the sink, humming as she washed the dishes. Andy grumbled to himself, going into the living room where he saw Lynn already popping open her can of soda. It wasn’t fair, why did she get to have extra soda? “Give me a sip, Mary-Lynn!” Andy said reaching for the can of soda which little Lynn just held out of the way. “No way, ask Mommy if you want more!” Lynn giggled. “You know you’re not allowed soda after seven anyway, it makes you wet the bed!” Lynn loved holding that fact over Andy’s head, knowing how much it embarrassed him to still be wetting the bed. Of course, as he sat next to the girl he wondered how she wasn’t bothered by his smelly diaper. He sat a little closer, trying to test out her patience. She gave Andy a little kiss on the nose. “Oh yuck!” Andy shouted, rubbing his nose and blushing. “Yuck? You’re the one sitting in poop.” Lynn just smirked. Mom eventually came into the living room, looking at her children. She smiled, holding her hands on her hips. “Are you two behaving in here? Andy’s not causing you any trouble is he, Lynn?” “No, Mommy, he’s just really stinky.” Lynn said as Andy huffed. “All right, Andy, do you have to pee?” Maureen asked calmly. Andy shook his head, though that was a bit of a fib. He did have to pee, at least a little. “Well I’m not changing you until you pee that diaper.” Maureen explained. “I want to get my money’s worth from those diapers, so don’t waste them by not filling them up all the way.” “Mom!” Andy whined loudly again. “Andy wants some soda now, Mommy.” Lynn added. “But if he has any I think you should make him wear diapers to bed as well. You know how he is when he has soda this late.” Andy couldn’t believe this, hearing this conversation about him peeing helplessly like some infant between his mother and sister. The whole thing was enough to make him have to go. The longer he held it in the longer it would take him to get changed back into his undies. He relaxed and felt the hot pee spread between his legs, soaking his diaper. He exhaled heavily as he pissed himself right there, adding to his dirty diapers. He was sure the added wetness was making him smell more. He tucked his chin down to his chest. He saw the puppy on his bib. He forgot he was still wearing that silly thing! “All done making your pee pees?” Mommy clapped for him. “Okay, let’s change you back. I think that’s enough diaper time for today… unless you want to have a soda and wear a diaper to bed?” “No! No more diapers, I’m all done!” Andy whimpered. Despite his protests all day he still felt a stirring inside. It did feel good to go whenever and wherever he pleased. He wouldn’t admit that out loud though. Mommy laid her son out on the coffee table, letting his sister watch as she tore open the diaper right there and started to wipe him clean. The sight of his own dirty diapers being on display was more embarrassing for him than being naked. When he was done getting cleaned though, Maureen made him stand up completely naked, except for his bib. She balled up the loaded diaper and then handed it to Lynn who responsibly took it to the trash to double bag the soiled pampers before tossing them away. “Okay honey, go take a bath or a shower and then scoot off to bed.” Maureen slapped his bare bottom. Standing in the shower, Andy thought about the day he had, all the humiliation he faced. It all started with his mommy wanting to take some pictures. He turned off the shower and shook off the water before wrapping himself in a towel. He headed to his bedroom, passing his sister along the way and seeing her big, pompous smile. He was annoyed at her, but he couldn’t stay mad. Even though they fought like siblings do they still loved each other. Andy tossed his towel on the bed and then flopped onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, glad to have gotten through the day and pleased he didn’t need to wear a diaper to bed. If only he knew what the future had in store for him. ~~~ PART 2: Andy The Model Lynn ran into the house excitedly, kicking off her shoes as she hurried to the living room. “Mommy! Andy! We got a letter!” Lynn waved the big manilla envelope she just grabbed from the mailbox. She was hopping with excitement. She wanted to rip it open right there, but she let her mother Maureen take it. Andy came down from his room. It had been two weeks, so he didn’t even remember the photoshoot that had gone down or what it was for. As his mother opened the letter he watched the woman’s expression change, a smile curling on her face. “Andy! They loved your pictures!” Maureen smiled. “I knew they would! Big brother’s really cute.” Lynn said, nodding like she knew how it would all go down. “What… pictures…” Andy’s voice trailed off as the color left his face. Now he remembered. “Mom-meeeee!” He whined, “Who did you show those pictures to?” “The Poofers Pampers company, of course.” Maureen smiled. “They were so impressed by you that they want you to be a model for them… specifically the diapers designed for tween-aged boys. They said you’re the perfect little boy for the job!” Andy’s pale face began to get redder. It was like he was a thermometer about to boil over and pop as he felt the heat rising in his body. How humiliating! It was one thing for his mother and sister to see him in diapers, but he couldn’t handle an entire nation seeing him that way. He’d never be able to face anyone in school again! “Mom, I don’t want to do this!” Andy’s voice cracked. “How much money have I had to spend on diapers, clean sheets, and constantly having to clean up your messes?” Maureen wagged her finger in Andy’s face as she chastised him. “The best way you can pay me back is to do this job and earn a little money for the family.” Andy looked down at his feet, defeated. He could sense his baby sister was staring at him, her glare burning a hole through him. What could he do? Between the time he had been diapered for the photoshoot to the big envelope reveal just a moment ago he had his fair share of accidents in the meantime. He sensed one of them would bring it up if he fought this. Maybe if he earned enough money doing this he might not have to show his face in school ever again and just take home schooling. ~ “Do we have to do this? I’m not going to have an accident on the way there” Andy groaned as Mommy shook a bottle of baby powder into his open diaper. She pulled the front panel of the padding upward and sealed the tapes around his waist. “I want us to make a good first impression when we get there. Besides, you never make it very long on car trips that last longer than an hour. I doubt you’d make it through a whole five hour flight!” Maureen smiled. “These Poofers diapers are quite a premium brand! Still, it’ll be worth it if we show up there with you already in their signature brand of padding.” She lifted Andy up and gave him a pat on the seat. She then got him dressed in some toddler-like overalls which were quite tight around him. Anyone looking at his butt might suspect he was padded underneath. “Are you ready to go yet?” Lynn called from downstairs, her suitcase already packed, ready for the trip to California! When she saw Andy waddling down the stairs, dragging his small suitcase behind him, Lynn cracked up. “Don’t say a word.” Andy pouted, walking by her and towards the car. It was going to be a long flight, and not just because of the distance. Andy thought he could make it the whole flight without needing to use the toilets, he really did. He wasn’t even allowed an aisle seat though, sat at the window with Mommy by his side and his sister in the aisle. He watched jealously both times Lynn got up to use the toilet during the flight while he just peed right into his Poofers. One thing he had to admit, these diapers really were the best! The pee was absorbed rather quickly, and he didn’t feel like he was sitting in wet diapers at all. Maybe if he was lucky he could use the bathroom at the company studios when the plane arrived. POOFERS In big, bold, baby blue letters on a black slate, looking more like the logo for a tech company than a diaper company, the sign was positioned on a rather tall looking building. It seems that the business of making diapers for boys past the age of three was a growing industry. Walking into the lobby of the building there were cardboard cutouts of models used in all the different age ranges. There were models for ages 4-5, 6, 7, and 8. The all-important tween, teen, and young adult models had yet to be picked though. Poofers was expanding, finding sales for their diapers made for the 13 and up crowd were seeing a surge. Perhaps more parents were keeping their boys in diapers for longer, or maybe it was just a growing trend of boys having trouble with potty training in general. Whatever the case may have been, Poofers planned to corner the market with an aggressive (but cute) advertising strategy. They thought Andy was the perfect way to start. “Ah, welcome!” A well dressed woman in her 30s greeted the family in the lobby. “Please follow me, we’re excited to get your contract signed.” Andy’s mouth twisted anxiously. His diaper was still wet from the plane ride over. Sure, he didn’t feel all the wet as the miraculous diapers were doing their job, but it was still humiliating. He didn’t want to have to walk around with peed in diapers on his butt through the whole building. “Our photographer Starlight can’t wait to start taking pictures!” The woman beamed. “Everyone here is really jazzed to start working with little Andy, but especially Starlight. She’s the artist who has taken photographs of every little boy you see on our packaging.” Another girl, just great! Andy whimpered, tucking his chin down. From the sound of her name she was probably really pretty too. He hated how embarrassing this whole thing was. He could tell his sister was loving it though. As he looked over his shoulder he saw Lynn admiring the building with her eyes wandering the hallways. “Mom…” Andy tugged on Maureen’s sleeve. “Do you need Mommy to carry you? All right, sweetie.” The woman lifted Andy into her arms. She gave the boy’s seat a few pats. “Oh, someone needs a change soon!” This is not what he wanted! “You know, if you want to save time just change him in the meeting room.” The guide lady said as the elevator stopped at the right floor. Andy buried his face into his mother’s shoulder, hoping she wouldn’t do that to him and would either let him change himself or at least take him to a bathroom. Of course, once in the legal department, standing there in the very professional looking meeting room, Maureen placed Andy on the table and started to tear open his diaper. “Hey, Mom, I can do it! That’ll give you time to look over the contract.” Lynn chimed in. “No, Lynn’s a baby, she can’t change me!” Andy protested, grabbing at the front panel of his diaper before it could fall open. “Hush, Andy. I think that’s an excellent idea. Lynn’s shown herself to be mature enough to handle it, plus I think she’s about ready to learn how to change a real diaper and not just one of her dollies.” Maureen smiled proudly at her daughter. She then started to discuss adult stuff with the lawyers, reading over the contracts. Lynn excitedly pulled away Andy’s hands, smiling wide as the diaper fell open before her. She loved the responsibility of getting to change her brother’s diaper, a boy who was barely any bigger than she was. She took the wipes from Mommy’s diaper bag and started cleaning the pee away from Andy’s skin. Andy could only lie there helplessly. He couldn’t remember the last time his sister wore a diaper, but she definitely remembered when he did. Lynn balled up the old diaper, setting it aside. She brought out the Poofers from Mommy’s bag and tucked them underneath Andy’s naked butt. She shook the baby powder into the open diaper. She then folded up the front panel and pulled the tapes in to secure the diaper around Andy’s waist. She wanted to shout to her mother and show her what a good job she did changing Andy’s soggy diapers, but she could see Maureen was still busy. “Come on, Andy. You gotta admit I did good!” Lynn beamed with pride. Andy just looked away. ~ “Oh my god, he’s even more adorable in person!” Starlight squealed with joy, hopping in place. This 20 year old woman had bright blue hair, an almost neon color, and it sparkled as glitter shimmered on her locks. Her hair really seemed to match her eyes, which also sparkled… at least it looked that way. Andy stood there in the photography room, a large green wall behind him. The solid color would make it easy to chroma-key the background and insert Andy into any situation they wanted, or just use him as a cut-out bit of clip art. “I d-don’t want to do this.” Andy looked down shyly, dressed in only his Poofers brand diapers now. He felt butterflies in his tummy while he stood there, or maybe it was something else. “Oh honey, it’s okay to be shy!” Starlight reassured him. “I have an older brother who never finished potty training, and he used to be very shy about his diapers too. He’s okay with them now though. He even likes them!” “Honey, just do what the nice lady says.” Mommy Maureen spoke quietly in the lower lit part of the room. All the hot lights were on Andy. Every other part of this room seemed so dark. “I think I know what’ll help.” Starlight pulled a cooler closer to herself. She opened it up and Andy could see every flavor of soda imaginable in the cooler. “Your mom says you like soda. These are the latest flavors from Japan!” Andy stared at the containers which were either thin cans or funny looking bottles. He pointed at one of the bottles timidly and Starlight popped it open for him. He brought the chilled bottle to his lips and sipped. It was so sweet, and better tasting than the regular cola he’s had back home! He licks his lips. “There we go!” Starlight beamed. “Now, why don’t you hold the bottle up high, label facing away.” She went to her rather expensive looking camera. The lens seemed so complicated. It was definitely more complex than the camera Mommy had. The camera snapped a dozen pictures in rapid succession. “Good job! Let’s have one where you’re drinking from it!” Andy did as the cute girl said, tilting his head back and gulping down the sweet drink. “You’re a natural at this!” Starlight gave him a sweet smile. Andy felt something stirring in his diaper as he looked at the pretty photographer. He hoped that it wouldn’t be showing outside his diaper. “You look pretty tough! Why don’t you show me your muscles?” Starlight knew how to get at a boy’s ego. Some boys didn’t mind being cute, but she knew how boys Andy’s age were about being masculine. Andy happily flexed his arms, standing in just his diaper, almost proudly! Starlight snapped more pictures until she had to quickly change film cartridges. Andy suddenly felt a twinge in his tummy. He started fidgeting, moving side to side on his feet nervously. “May I be excused?” Andy spoke meekly. “Why?” Starlight asked, still snapping pictures as Andy fidgeted. “I don’t really need these diapers. I’d like a bathroom break…” Andy tried his best to not look like some helpless baby. It wasn’t working on Starlight though. “Oh silly, just use your diaper! That’ll actually be a great set of pictures!” Starlight rapped her fingers on the edges of her camera. She could see Andy was still hesitant, but then she noticed the slightly stretched material of the diaper between his legs. She felt a little bad about trying to appeal to the tween’s base side, but she knew she might have to do this once she started snapping photos of older boys. “Come on, do it for me? You’re just so handsome and muscular! I want to save some of these pictures for myself.” She pursed her lips and fluttered her eyelashes at Andy. Andy swallowed. That did it for him. He was convinced this girl would like him more if he did this now. It didn’t make any sense. Why would a girl like a stinky boy that does that sort of thing? But he put those thoughts out of his mind, now just wanting to be cute for Starlight. Andy bent his knees and scrunched his face. He could hear the snapping of the camera as it took rapid-fire photos of him. Many pictures of him making a classic “pooping face” were taken. Then, as the back of his diaper bulged and sagged, Starlight took pictures of the diapers filling up. She rattled off so many pictures she ran out of film again and had to put a new cartridge into her camera. There were so many pictures of his dirty diapers now! Andy always had to pee after going poop, so of course he let loose into the front of his diaper as well. Starlight was having the time of her life, capturing so many photos of this moment. She got pictures from close up and far away of Andy in such a natural state of pottying on himself. “I love this!” Starlight exclaimed. “You really are the perfect boy.” The woman got a wicked smile on her face as she lowered the camera. “Now sit in it.” “Wh-what?” Andy looked up, his legs bowed as he stood there in his loaded Poofers. “Well, I need all kinds of natural poses. What’s more natural than a boy sitting in his own poop?” Starlight looked at Andy, giving him a wink and a kissy face. Andy was so easily manipulated. He sat down on the floor and made a face, feeling the mess smear around inside the diaper. Starlight wasn’t taking many pictures. She just stood there waiting until Andy looked relaxed. She got down on her belly, taking the lowest angle shots she could of Andy just sitting in his mess. “I’m very proud of you, Andy.” Starlight said. “You’re setting a good example for the boys who will come after you. They’ll all see that being a stinky diaper boy is just part of their life. It’s nothing to be ashamed of! Well, it’s not a big deal anyway.” She snapped a few more pictures before getting back up on her feet. She emptied the last roll of film from the camera and sealed the rolls in a black, protective case. “Well… I really don't need diapers!” Andy wanted to keep insisting. “But I want to do a good job, so…” He shrugged. “You know, this gives me a great idea.” Starlight taps her chin. “Your family is going to be here for the weekend, right?” “That’s correct.” Maureen finally spoke up, waking out from behind the shadowy part of the room. “We need to expand to commercials.” Starlight looked over at Andy and then back at Maureen. “The contract did say we could film him for any purpose, but I still want to run it by you.” “You know, that sounds like an excellent idea.” The mother said. “Yeah!” Lynn added. “No…” Andy whimpered quietly. Andy suddenly started peeing on himself. It just flowed out of him uncontrollably. He didn’t even feel the warning tingle. Hot piss just spread all around in his dirty diaper. He was worried he might be losing the ability to hold it now. He never could hold it very well before, but at least he could tell when he was about to have an accident. PART 3: Andy The Star! Andy and his family had never been to a movie set before. For Maureen and Lynn this was a rather fun experience. Lynn even got to meet a girl her age who was an actor. Lynn and the little actor were having a great time together while Andy stood there nervously on the set, wearing a fresh pair of diapers. Last night he wet in his sleep. He didn’t want to wear diapers to bed, but Mommy was afraid that he might have an accident at night in the hotel room and she wasn’t about to let him pee all over some nice hotel sheets. It turns out she was right, and Andy hated to have proven her right in such a spectacular way. Andy was definitely a lot less excited to be on the movie set. It was bad enough that his face was going to be plastered all over packages of Poofers, but now he was going to be in commercials seen by millions of people! There were three shoots planned for the day, and each one would only be around 90 minutes each to be legal within the state’s labor laws for young actors. At least learning about that was a small highlight for Andy. “Up we go! Time to get you dressed!” Andy was scooped up by his armpits by a rather tall, strong woman with a tag on her chest labeling her as part of the wardrobe department. She brought him over to the dressing room, which did not have a door on it. Anyone looking in would see him stripped naked, even his diaper getting removed. It was a relief for Andy to have the diaper off, even having his butt stuffed into a pair of tighty whitey briefs. Next came a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a non-descript design on it, free of any copyrighted logos or characters. The nice woman smiled as she tucked the boy’s feet into socks and shoes. “You’re going to put on a great show, I just know it!” Andy was then dragged off by his wrist by another stage hand. He was brought to a table full of food marked down with a sign that said [FOR ANDY ONLY!] He felt special that he got his own table of goodies and drinks, not knowing there were diuretics and laxatives in them. Another stage-hand wiped his face down and touched him up with a bit of make-up. Andy squirmed, making a face. The make-up artist assured him that everyone who gets in front of a movie camera has to wear make-up. Andy accepted the explanation, but he still pouted over having to put the stuff on his face. He was lucky it did not take a long time. The production would not be able to afford losing daylight. Finally, Andy was on the house stage, looking like a typical two story home, just with stairs that lead nowhere and no fourth wall. He got to meet the actors playing his mother and sister. He was a little embarrassed that he thought the woman playing his mother was actually pretty hot. He nervously fidgeted, feeling like he had to go. “Okay, Andy, just act naturally!” The director shouted to him. Andy narrowed his eyes, looking beyond the stage lights. Starlight was the director, looking fairly proud that she was getting to make what she considered a “small movie.” She was already rolling the cameras, knowing Andy wasn’t going to be able to hold it in for long. The little girl actor went over to a stereo system and turned on the music. Music came from speakers all around the set rather than directly from the stereo. The girl ran up to Andy and grabbed his hands, dancing with him. He looked down at the cute actor, smiling a little. He went along with her, dancing happily until he felt a pang in his bladder. He stopped dancing and stepped back, holding his crotch and butt while his acting mate put his hands on her cheeks, pretending to be shocked. A noisy, rude sound came from the back of Andy’s pants. The seat of his pants turned a dark brown. Next, a dark pee stain expanded on the front, growing from behind his hand. A stream was trickling down, hitting the floor. Starlight was watching from the back on the playback monitors. The three stage cameras were able to get Andy’s accident from different angles from which the woman would later edit together in just the right way. Andy stood there, moving his hands away and looked down at his soiled pants. A look of surprise and embarrassment washed over his face as his pants dripped all over the carpet of the fake floor beneath him. He was so worried, his heart racing. Did he do bad? Was he supposed to do this? The woman playing his mother walked onto the set, tugging Andy by the wrist into another room. The cameras followed to a nursery set. Andy was placed upon a changing table, his pants and undies yanked off, making sure that his legs were positioned carefully. The beautiful woman actress cleaned him up, smiling down at him. He felt himself getting a little too excited as he was cleaned up and the actress just gave him a knowing wink, making sure to hide him with careful placement of her body and his legs. Andy put his hands up to cover his face, but he was already so exposed. The package of Poofers was positioned cleverly so that it would be in the foreground with a rack focus, turning everything behind it blurry as it came into view. The package was open and the woman pulled out one diaper. She tucked it under Andy and powdered him. She taped the diaper up rather quickly, knowing she could not take her time with such a tight schedule and the relatively short running time of the commercial. Finally in a fresh diaper and t-shirt, Andy was set back down on the floor to face the camera. “Smile, Andy!” Starlight shouted from her director’s chair. Andy didn’t feel like smiling, but the actress playing his mom gave him a playful tickle on his side and he couldn’t help but crack a smile, giggling. “Cut! Excellent job, everyone!” Starlight stood up, hands on her hips. “Do you have to pee and poop some more, Andy?” Andy shook his head and Starlight called for a break. Everyone was telling Andy what a great job he did as he waddled around in the thick, babyish Poofers diapers. It appeared that they were a little over 20 minutes ahead of schedule thanks to Andy being so ready to have an accident in his pants. They hadn't needed to wait more than a couple minutes after he had his snacks and drinks. Andy looked down at his feet, feeling very embarrassed and wanting to hide, but he felt like he had a big bright beacon on him, making him visible to everyone. He looked around and saw his sister playing tag the other little girl actress, the two of them using Andy’s pee puddle as a hazard to avoid, making faces at it and hopping on the stage couch to dodge it. They both seemed a little too amused by Andy’s accident. At home, Lynn would surely make a big fuss and be upset by Andy making a mess on the floor, but on a fake set she didn’t have to worry about a stain setting into the floor. Glancing over at his mother he saw the woman speaking with Starlight as she kept showing playback video of different angles. They appeared to be talking about what was the appropriate amount of Andy that was allowed to show on screen, all without Andy’s input of course. If Andy had his way no part of him would be visible on camera. He then glanced towards the exits and saw the figure of a tall woman in a rather fancy business suit standing with her arms crossed. She just silently stood there, watching Andy. The boy walked away slowly, feeling a little nervous that this woman was just standing there watching him. Eventually the hour was up and it was right back to work. The carpet on the set had been removed and a new carpet was stapled into place by the skilled prop and set department. Andy was brought over to the sofa on the set and made to sit down between the two actors. He had to sit with his legs spread, not that he could really close his legs much with the diapers spreading them apart. “Andy, do you need to potty?” The director asks the boy. When Andy shook his head, Starlight whispered something and had someone come over to Andy with a can of soda. Andy eagerly popped the soda can open, guzzling down the soda without thinking. It only dawned on him later that the soda can was another diuretic. Andy looked down, feeling so utterly helpless as pee flowed into his diaper. The drinks and snacks they were feeding him were definitely working. The camera caught the whole thing, his pee filling up his diaper quite a bit, which resulted in going well over the commercials run time just for the peeing alone. Starlight was now considering making extended cuts for YouTube. As Andy finished soaking himself, the front panel of his diaper having swollen and turned a pale yellow, the whole crew began to clap. His hands shyly came between his legs, but it was too late to hide what he did. Just then he felt another strong urge to poop. He tried to hold this back too, but there was no stopping it. The camera caught the struggle in his face as he dumped into the back of the diaper as well. Highly sensitive hidden microphones could pick up the sound of more pooping and peeing as the medicine was still taking effect and helping him do his business right on camera. When Andy’s diaper was doubly used, practically over-stuffed with his messes, the actor playing his mother stood him up. She swept her hand across the seat of the couch to show how it was still clean. She then cupped Andy’s rear and patted the heavy mess so the viewers could see just how full the diaper got without leaking. “Oh boy, the PR department is going to love that shot.” Starlight whispered to someone on her crew. Yes, Andy did a great job of showing how strong these diapers were without them leaking everywhere. While the cast and crew dispersed Andy sat back on the couch, feeling the stinky, soggy mess in his diaper get all over him. They really were great diapers, keeping him clean on the outside but dirty inside the diaper. The pants accident was kind of fun, though he would never admit it out loud, but the diapers were clean fun. He could see himself getting used to wearing these around the house, even if it would mean more teasing from his baby sister. Lynn ran back up to Andy, standing next to her new little actress friend. The young girl leaned in and kissed Andy on the cheek, squealing and hiding behind Lynn. “She likes you, Andy.” “No I don’t! She dared me to kiss you!” The other girl said, playfully pushing Lynn. The boy just blushed, watching the two girls giggle and run away from him. He didn’t want some eight year old with a crush on him. There was only one girl he liked here, but she was too old for him in more ways than one. Of course, Starlight eventually walked over to Andy, bending over and giving him a coquettish smile. She teased the boy’s hair, twirling her finger in his white locks. “We’re all so proud of you, Andy! You did great today.” Starlight spoke sweetly to the boy, knowing fully well that he was attracted to her. If there was one thing that made boys easier to cooperate with it was their uncontrollable hormones. “Do you think you’ll be up for one more shoot today? We’re just going to get some extra footage to make a couple different cuts for two or three commercials. Can you handle that? Can you be my handsome, brave boy?” Andy was practically melting, grinning happily. He nodded in agreement, seeming to have forgotten he was sitting in his own mess. Starlight had not forgotten though. She picked up Andy and brought him over to the changing table. The fact that Andy was clearly “happy” to get his diapers changed by Starlight was not lost on the young woman. She did think he was pretty cute, but in the way one might think they’re baby brother is cute. She carefully removed the loaded Poofers and dropped them in the trash. She then went about wiping Andy clean and preparing another diaper for him. “I bet a lot of girls are going to want to be your mommy when they see these ads…” Starlight giggled, shaking the baby powder into Andy’s open diaper. She folded the diaper up and neatly applied the tapes snug around his waist. “And you’ll make a lot of boys less anxious about needing diapers too. They’ll all have you to thank for making diapers trendy for boys to wear!” ~ [commercial P-F609: Poofers CM 001] Narrator: Does your little boy still have accidents past the age of nine years old? [Shot of the little boy dancing with his sister and then having his accident, first from the distance and then in a close-up shot on his rear end.] [the little boy’s sister gasps, putting his hands on her cheeks as she looks on.] Narrator: You’ve probably tried everything to train him too, but nothing seems to stick! [A shot of Andy’s feet standing in his dirty puddle as his pants drip.] Narrator: Poofers is proud to present Poofers for tweens! [The package of diapers is shown in the foreground before being picked up by a mother’s hand. Next, the boy is shown getting his diaper changed.] Narrator: They’re the only diaper for tweens strong enough to withstand a boy’s dirtiest messes! [Cut to the boy’s diaper getting used while he sits on the couch. A clock wipe transition shows the diaper going from clean to full. A close-up of the dirty diaper butt and the sofa are shown at the same time. The mother’s hand brushes over the couch cushion to show that it is still clean.] Narrator: Poofers! The strongest, toughest diapers for the biggest little boys! [The commercial’s story concludes with the brother and sister characters dancing again, this time with the brother wearing nothing but a diaper and shirt.] Narrator: Also comes in Teen and Adult sizes! [Two more diaper packages are shown in slightly bigger sizes. The video ends.] “Well, Ms Praline, what do you think?” Starlight asked, smiling warmly as she stood by the wide screen display on the wall. “We have two more ads planned in a similar fashion.” Rosemary Praline stood at the far end of the room, sitting at the end of a long table. She kept a stoic expression, her arms crossed. The woman had a serious attitude about her, and her poker face made her hard to read. Something was different this time though. A smile actually grew on her face. It was a subtle smile, just the slightest upturn of her lips, but it was something. “I think,” Ms Praline finally spoke, “We’re going to make a lot of money.” PART 4: Andy Meets The Board Andy didn’t know what was going on today. He had filmed a couple more commercials over the next week, this time with less hectic schedules, allowing him more breaks between the rather humiliating on-screen “accidents” he had to perform. He was finding it easier to just let go in his pants. Of course he also found himself needing his diapers full time now. Using the toilet was now just a distant memory for him as he lost total control of himself, often pooping his diapers without even knowing it until his mother or sister pointed it out. Andy’s sister was hanging out with her new actor friend and his mother was shopping and enjoying the lifestyle Andy’s big checks were affording her. They had moved into their new home, just outside the expensive city in a house a bit more modest than the one they used to live in. The main difference was that now everyone was living a much more opulent life, enjoying a higher social status. Everyone was enjoying their new life except for Andy. The boy could see his face on packages of diapers, in commercials, on youtube, and even billboards reaching high into the sky. If he happened to be walking around outside someone would recognize him as the “diaper boy” on those high billboards, making poor Andy blush and try to hide his face. Today, Andy was having a meeting with the CEO as well as the board of directors. He wondered what he would be doing there. He was dressed in only a t-shirt and diaper, which he initially made a big fuss about until his mother reminded him that he didn’t get a say in what he wore anymore. He was a dirty little boy who couldn’t stop messing his pants and Mommy wasn’t about to go out and keep buying him larger and larger pants just to cover up his diapers. What kind of punishment would that be? The tour guide from the lobby was holding Andy’s hand and guiding him down a long hallway. Looking at the walls he could see framed pictures that told the story of Poofers. The company was apparently founded in the 1950 and was originally called Puffies Brand Family Products. Around 1959 the company’s name was shortened to just Puffies and changed its focus to diapers and underwear for boys. Around the early 60s the company’s name was finally changed to Poofers and they had their first female CEO, a trend that would continue for the rest of the company’s life. Every new portrait was a woman, right up to Miss Rosemary Praline, the current CEO of the company. In the 80s the company shifted away from making underwear and exclusively just made diapers for boys in bigger and bigger sizes. It seemed like every couple years a new, bigger size of diaper would be made. Sales were slow at first, but eventually more and more families were buying diapers for their older boys. Today, these larger diapers were getting rebranding. In the past the larger sized diapers for ages 6-8 had no pictures on them, but they were now sporting different boys on each package wearing appropriately sized diapers. Andy was just the latest in a line of diaper models. He knew this would mean it wouldn’t be long before the company would get teenage boy models and maybe even adults. Andy entered the board room, seeing about ten board members there, all women. Five were at either side of a long table with Ms Rosemary Praline sitting at the end in an extravagant looking chair. The tour guide gave Andy a pat on the head and left. “Let’s get a look at you!” Rosemary said. Looking at Andy with her sparkling brown eyes. Her shiny black hair was cut conservatively, just above her shoulders. She had it done recently. One of the board members, with the name Charlyne on her name plate, picked up Andy and set him on the table. Andy felt a little exposed sitting on the table as he looked at all the women. They were fawning over how cute he was, some of them reaching out to touch his diapers. He flinched and giggled as his padding was touched, but also his bare thighs, which were very ticklish. He could see the mature woman at the end of the table beckoning him over. He wobbled as he got to his feet and then waddled over to Rosemary. The woman grabbed him by the hips and set him in her lap. She reaches down into a large bag and proceeded to take out a baby bottle. At first he resisted, but as his head was resting on the older woman’s breast he gave in and let the bottle get shoved into his mouth. “Ms Peters, play the latest commercial our ad department has whipped up.” Rosemary requested, bouncing big baby Andy in her arms and feeding him the bottle. Following Rosemary’s request, one of the ladies at the far end of the table pulled a keyboard from a drawer under the table and typed on it quickly. Panels in the middle of the table opened up and several monitors started to display a blue screen before the commercial began to play. [Andy is stepping off a school bus along with a girl that is presumably playing his sister. The girl runs ahead of Andy and the two kids race to get into the house first. In an interior shot, the girl is shown skidding towards the bathroom door and then shutting it as he enters. As Andy runs up to the door the camera pulls in on his face and he strains. The camera then pans down to show the back of his pants as they bulge out and Andy messes himself.] [A wipe transition shows a woman folding laundry and shaking her head. She turns her head upwards to look directly at the viewer.] MOTHER: I’m a mother to a 10 year old boy and I just love him to pieces, but as most of you know boys can be pretty dirty. [The woman proceeds to hold up a pair of white briefs with a large brown stain on the seat and a yellow tinted stain on the front.] MOTHER: Does this look familiar to you? If you’re the mother of a little boy chances are you’ve seen some form of hard-to-get-out potty stain in your son’s pants. Detergents and bleaches just aren’t enough. From Poofers, the makers of diapers for boys ages six, seven, and eight, now comes the new Poofers tween sizes! [A magical cloud of sparkles seems to materialize the package of diapers on a table. The mother tears open the bag and pulls out one of the diapers. A CG diaper floats around on the screen as each part of the diaper is pointed out. Every part of the diaper is designed to keep the boy from leaking but its design is also meant to look adorable.] [The mother picks up Andy and sets him on the table. The side of his bare butt can be seen with his privates just out of view. The mother tucks the new diaper underneath Andy and dusts him with powder before taping the diaper up. She shows just how easy it is to put the diapers on Andy.] [A transition wipe shows Andy waddling around the house in just his diapers. He stops just outside the bathroom door and turns to face the camera as he wets himself. A yellow spot expands around the crotch as the diaper becomes soaked. A toilet flushing sound is heard and the little sister character comes out of the bathroom. She looks at the diaper and then cups the bottom of it.] LITTLE SISTER: Look, Mom! No more puddles! MOTHER: That’s right, dear! Poofers keep floors clean when little boys can not! [Next, the shot changes to a little league baseball game. Andy is at the bat when he hits a home run. He waddles fast as he can over each base with his diaper clearly showing above the waistband of his uniform. After reaching home base the other boys rush to Andy and cheer. A panning shot shows each boy’s bottom sticking out as the waistband of the Poofers, complete with logo showing, is peeking out the top of each boy’s pants.] MOTHER: Let’s celebrate! We’re all going out for pizza! [She looks directly at the camera and winks] We can use my van! With all you boys in Poofers pampers I know my car seats will be safe. [The scene transition wipes to the pizza place now with Mom, Sister, Andy, and his teammates all eating pizza together. The scene blurs and the Poofers logo appears, complete with Andy proudly standing next to it wearing nothing but a Poofers brand diaper. The commercial ends there.] That was a long commercial! It must be one of the longer ones shot just for YouTube. Andy was still sucking on the baby bottle and put his hands between his legs. He could feel warm wetness. He couldn’t believe he wet himself during that ad, and right in Rosemary’s lap! The woman doesn’t seem to mind though, giving his wet rump a few pats. “Look ladies, just like in the commercial!” Rosemary holds up Andy by his armpits, the yellowed crotch of his diaper showing to everyone. He whimpers and puts his hands up to his face. “Oh, he’s so cute!” “What an adorable baby boy.” “He’s perfect!” The women gather around him, cooing, using baby talk, and pinching his cheeks. Andy grumbled and whimpered as they played with him. Part of him secretly loved all the attention he was getting from the pretty ladies though. “Yes, this adorable little face is perfect for our company.” Rosemary said, bouncing Andy on her knee and looking right at him. Yes, it wasn’t so bad being a diaper boy if it meant Andy could enjoy all this loving attention from so many pretty ladies. He even began to smile. “I’m thinking he should be the permanent face of our company.” Rosemary adds. “As he gets older let’s just have him continue to model for the bigger sizes and do more advertisements!” “Great idea as always, Ms Praline!” “You’re a genius!” “He is pretty cute, I must say!” Andy swallows nervously. What did he get himself into? ~THE END~ [this story could possibly continue with even more chapters, but it is up to the commissioner!] If you would like to commission me consider sending a private message. My ebook store is here!

WARNING: this story will contain NWS mild sexuality and scenes of wetting and messing. I am diving back into writing. This will be a multi-part series about a video game character who goes on a quest to save the princess. I like diaper boys and video games, so that's what I decided to write about. I am interested in what you think of the story and willing to hear any feedback about where you think the story should go or what themes it should touch on. Understand that I have already made an outline for the story and have my own idea about where it's going to go. Diaper Hero of Video Land By AMR ------------------------- Video Land was a magical, far sweeping world. There were lush, green fields, dark forests, hot lands with rivers of red lava, cool caves of multi-colored crystals, silly toy-like valleys with patchwork grounds and floating cotton clouds, and too many fantastic and strange things to mention all at once. This was a land where coins were found in blocks, people could gain experience and level up, and secrets hidden around every corner. Basically, it was what we in the real world would call a video game. Our story begins in Veggie Village, a quaint and quiet little kingdom in Video Land where Princess Lily ruled. The people of Veggie Village looked up to the princess (who was more of a queen, let’s be honest,) who used her magic to keep vegetable crops growing all the time. People not only ate the vegetables and used them for various crafts, but some folks even lived inside giant pumpkins and eggplants hollowed out. Indeed, the princess’s magic was instrumental to the very backbone of their society. That was not the only reason the folks of Veggie Village looked up to Lily. She also happened to be nearly seven feet tall! Princess Lily’s skin was a deep tan, with dark flecks around the bridge of her nose like freckles. Her hair was like green leaves of some kind of vegetable, but draped over top of her head in a decorative hair-like fashion. Her dress was typically princessy, big and billow with pinks and purples. She also liked to wear a frilly apron with three shining jewels across the chest. Each hand was covered in a white glove going up to her elbows. Her eyes were as red as beets. Her lips were soft and pillowy. Her voice dripped from her throat like honey. Many people had taken to calling her Mother, something she never pushed on anyone, but which made her quite happy to hear. Inside the castle where the princess lived with her servants and guards was another curious character. It was a boy named Hero. His name was also his birthright. He had sworn to be the princess’s protector no matter the cost. He had moved in once he turned 16 years of age, and two years later the castle, the village, and the princess were still safe. Of course, dangers were always mild. Battle Beetles and Plum Rats seemed to be the only dangers the village faced and Hero would level up mildly. By the age of 18, he had gone up to a whopping FIVE levels. That was all. Hero always wore a red tunic with red tights and red boots. That was his entire rotating wardrobe. His accessories were a bow with a quiver he wore strapped around his shoulder. A belt around his waist stored his magic items, like bombs and sticky traps. Also, under his tights were crinkly, poofy, white diapers. More on that later though. Hero had pale skin and pointed ears. His hair was a deep black, and so were his eyes. The Princess sometimes said she could see the stars in the young man’s eyes. She adored him, and he adored her. Like, everyone else in the village, he looked up to the princess, as he was a mere five feet tall. Despite his short height, he was strong and powerful. With not much fighting to do he insisted on doing heavy lifting, able to pull up three times his own body weight. He sure didn’t look muscular though, with a rather scrawny frame and even a bit of a tummy. Right, we almost forgot to mention his diapers. It seemed like he focused all his leveling up on his strength, but one slot he never bothered filling up was potty skills. He claimed that he would get to it eventually, maybe on his next level, but he kept putting it off. He did not understand why this even had to be a stat. He knew no other person who had a potty skill stat as empty as his. Most folks in Video Land seemed born with the stat filled already. It was a little humiliating for him, but when the princess told him how adorable those diapers were it just made Hero’s heart melt and he forgot about it all over again. Hero slept in his own private quarters, which were fairly large. He had a cushy, soft bed. There were toys everywhere, little interactive games, and a turning mobile on the ceiling which he sometimes found himself staring up at, especially during his diaper changes. At first, the servants changed his diapers, but eventually Princess Lily grew closer to Hero and started his diaper changes herself. The shame he felt over never potty training would just fade away any time the princess wiped his dirty little bottom for him, even teasing his privates with cool baby wipes and making him shiver with delight. Diaper changes were his favorite times of the day. He even began to call her “Princess Mommy” in private. Things had been good in Veggie Village. Things had been very good. Unfortunately, in Video Land, there were always villains looking to conquer new lands… In the distance, there was a sound like rolling thunder. The villagers did not pay much attention, thinking it would be a rain storm coming to bless their land. The rumbling got louder though, and closer. A horn sounded from a high tower on the castle. One of the guards warned of an oncoming army! The villagers rushed to their homes, locking their doors and shuttering their windows. They had prepared for this day for so long, but they never thought it would come so soon. An army of half-dragon creatures, filed in rows of four by four in perfect formation, several blocks of them surrounding the castle now. Two of the guards standing at the doorway shook in fear. The little men screamed, dropping their spears and running away. Behind the army was a pillar of black smoke. It disappeared to reveal a 14 foot tall half-dragon woman. She was nude except for a chain mail loin covering. Her skin was a deep, dark red, and it shone as light hit it. She was covered in very fine scales, which were like armor for her. Her hair was wild and always blowing in a wind that seemed to follow her. The color of her hair was a lot like fire, red at the tips, fading to a bright yellow the closer it got to her scalp. Her eyes were the same. “Bring us Princess Lily and your village will be spared.” The dragon woman spoke, her chest heaving and her large breasts lifting as she breathed in. “Queen Fiery Fiona demands it.” That must have been her name. She was all too eager to announce herself. This was a proud conqueror. Inside the castle, several moments before, Princess Lily and Hero were having a private moment. Hero had just gotten a diaper change and he was feeling so small and helpless. He enjoyed giving in to his helplessness, accepting that sometimes he was just a big baby. No matter how strong he was, he needed his Princess Mommy. Lily had the front of her apron down and the top of her blouse unbuttoned. Her dark nipples were thick, begging to nursed on, and that is what Hero did. He put his lips to the woman’s bosom, suckling like an infant. This was perfect, this is how he wanted things to be… but, he soon realized that something was amiss. There was clamoring outside. Sensing danger he leapt out of the bed. Lily went to button back up and pull her apron over her chest again. Hero was too eager to put his tights on, crinkling in nothing but his diaper. He grabbed his sword and waited by the window, peering out curiously. That’s when he saw the frightening visage of the half-dragon queen, looking up at the castle. She climbed up the gates, and up the tower, sensing where the princess was. She tore off the roof quickly. “Ah, there you are, Princess Lily!” The evil queen cackled. “You don’t even have anyone here to defend you, I see. You’re coming with me.” As she reached in to grab the woman half her size Hero jumped high in the air and struck the dragon woman in the wrist. “No she’s not!” Hero yelled, feeling quite heroic in that moment. “Ow!” Queen Fiery Fiona said, not very loud or concerned. “That kind of hurt. Hmm, didn’t even knick the skin though.” Indeed, Hero didn’t do any damage at all. Fiona looked down at Hero, standing there in his diaper and holding his sword as he tried to protect his princess. The large dragon-woman let out a “pffft!” from her lips and then began to laugh. “This is your great warrior? I did not expect much from Veggie Village, but this… this BABY?” She reached out her finger, jabbing Hero in the chest and causing him to fall backward on his cushy bottom. He dropped his sword and it slid away from him. “I’m not a baby! I’m 18!” He insisted, his voice cracking. “And I will protect my princess with my life!” “Well that’s quite foolish for a Level 5 warrior against a Level 299 beast like me.” Fiona grabbed him with both of her hands and started to squeeze. Hero struggled and felt his HP going down. “STOP!” Princess Lily shouted. “Hero, stand down… I will go freely.” “B… but… p-princess…” Hero strained to talk. He was dropped on the floor, his HP dangerously low. He tried to crawl to his sword, but he felt a gentle hand on his cheek. He looked up meekly, tears in his eyes. He trained for this for so long, and he felt like a failure. The princess kissed his forehead and stroked back his black hair. “It’s all right, my sweet Hero.” She whispered to him. “You need to recover… You can not defeat the dragon queen right now. If we lose you, then there’s nothing lef-” The princess’s words were cut short. She was nabbed by the laughing dragon woman, who leapt away from the castle with the princess in her hand. “We got her, boys! Let’s go!” Queen Fiery Fiona snarled. The army left, and as promised, they did not harm anyone in the village. While spared, the village wondered what they would do without their princess. Their crops would surely stop growing, and their homes would wither. Up in the tower, Hero sobbed to himself. He was down to just 1 HP. Exhausted, he crawled over to his bed, but he collapsed before making it there. Soon, he faded off and closed his eyes. ~~~ Hero woke up in a small room. He shot up to a sitting position and looked around. He looked down at his diaper, which was soaking wet. He wanted to call for his Princess Mommy, but he knew she was not there. He quickly checked his HP, seeing it had been filled back up. Sleeping in this house must have helped restore his energy and healed him of any other ailments. “My princess…” He muttered to himself. “I have to find her.” “Ah, you’re awake, Hero.” A man’s voice called out. It was a villager, standing at the doorway, with his sweet old wife, and two daughters. The older gentleman chuckled. “My wife and daughters healed you after that nasty encounter with that evil woman.” “Yes, it’s true.” The old woman smiled. “Oh dear, and it seems you need a diaper change! At least we know you had a sound sleep.” “Wait- thank you, but wait-” Hero tried to get a word in, but the two daughters ran up and got to work changing him. One daughter held him down, while the other tore open the front of the diaper. The girl, about Hero’s age, deftly cleaned him with a cool, damp rag. She tossed away the diaper and put a brand new one under him. It wasn’t like the nice, long, loving diaper changes he got from his princess. It was more mechanical and quick. It was over all too cast once he was powdered and taped back up. He sat there on the bed, his pale face hot with blush. “Yyyyes. Thank you… I must be going though. I can’t waste any time.” Hero said as he stood up. “Before you go, please…” The old woman held up a satchel. “Take this, it will aid you on your journey.” Hero peeked into the holding back. It was all his tunics and tights, some rupees, healing potions, HP-restoring fruit, as well as 20 diapers. He let out a nervous laugh. “That was… humbling.” He said quietly. “I never lost before… plus… she called me a baby.” “Everyone has to start somewhere.” The husband said, clutching his wife close. “Your quest is just beginning, young Hero. Just remember not to be brash with your encounters in the future!” Hero nodded, taking the man’s words to heart, corny as they were. He added the satchel of things to his inventory and put on a new pair of tights and tunic. He exited the home and looked back. It was a massive ear of corn with a door and windows. Of course… Hero made his way through the village, heading towards the exit to where the dark forest was. This was the direction that wicked queen went. As he got to the village gates he heard cheers behind him. He turned around to see the villagers waving and making noise. “We believe in you!” “Kick her butt!” “Don’t forget to change your diapers!” “Right…” he thought to himself. “Queen Fiery Fiona, I’m coming for you!” Hero stepped into the forest. Immediately it seemed like the sun had just gone out and he was surrounded by darkness. He was not scared though. He grabbed a torch and held it high to light his path, continuing along the path. ~~~

WARNING: this story contains diaper use of both pee and poop as well as depictions of arousal/masturbation from an adult male. if you like my stories consider donating a little something as you download my ebook collection. You're under no obligation to donate so you can just download the stories for free if you wish. Little Boy Streams Live by AMR Niles Bixby was so excited. He was finally old enough to have a streaming channel on Rippr, the video game livestreaming service used by all the hottest gaming e-celebrities. Niles liked to call himself "The Crackle" like crackling thunder because he "brings the storm" to all the games he plays. Well, he thought it sounded pretty cool. Niles had a twin sister Chloe. She was a little taller than her brother. Even when Niles entered puberty he never quite caught up and was always a foot shorter. Much to his chagrin, some people even referred to Chloe as his “big sister.” That wasn’t even the worst part though. The worst part was that Niles still wore diapers. He wore diapers all through elementary school, all through middle school, and even high school! Whether it was from laziness or carelessness Niles just couldn’t seem to get out of diapers. He mostly kept it hidden while he was in high school, but a few of his close friends did figure it out. They told Niles it was nothing to be embarrassed about, but they still let him keep his secret. Chloe did not wear diapers. She was out of training pants by the age of two and she seemed to enjoy flaunting her big girl pants around him up until middle school when she grew out of teasing her diapered brother. That’s not to say the two siblings always got along after that. Niles was a stubborn boy and often refused to play with his sister, even though she liked the same video games he did. It had become quite a point of contention between them. She would eventually warn her brother that if he didn’t start acting mature he would always be the baby. So today was the big day. Niles had been streaming his video game playing for a couple years now. On this new platform he could accept donations from viewers. His two best friends were already there in chat to cheer him on, as well as some new fans he got along the way. As he settled into his gaming chair he noticed that the fancy new microphone he got was picking up some of the light crinkling of his diapers. He brushed this off, claiming it was just some static and he would fix it soon. He tried to sit perfectly still as he booted up his first game of the night, playing and commenting along the way. “Thanks for joining me on my first livestream on Rippr! I see we already got some donations from RoosYaBoy and SlappyHapperz, thank you both for the ten bucks, but any little bit helps keep this channel alive!” Niles felt like a natural. Most of the donations he was getting were just a dollar here and there. The two five dollar donations came from his friends. Eventually the donations slowed down. It wasn’t much at all, he didn’t even break twenty. He tried to just focus on his game, and that’s when he felt the spreading warmth between his legs. He blushed a little, wondering if the mic was picking up the sound of his peeing. His webcam certainly showed his blushing cheeks in full color detail. “Hey Niles! Mom said you have to let me play with you.” The voice of his sister rang from behind the door as she knocked. Naturally the mic picked up all of this, causing much of the chat to laugh. He even got a few more dollar donations for this, probably out of pity. Niles tried to laugh this off as the chat commented on the fact that he still lived with his mom. “I’m doing a livestream right now, Chloe!” Niles choked through nervous laughter. “I don’t think now is the right time!” There was a clicking on the door knob. Chloe had used a key to get in. She stood in the doorway with a smirk, holding up the key that mom had given her. Niles sat there in stunned silence. He wanted to shut the stream off, but now he was suddenly getting a couple two dollar donations. “Please not now! I’ll give you anything, just don’t come in now.” Niles whispered to his sister. The sight of the pretty girl in the doorway must have really helped the donations come in, or maybe it was the embarrassment of the boy that was making the chat so excited. Everyone was erupting into “LOL”s and various types of laughing emojis being spammed. His viewer count was growing, but at the cost of his dignity. “This was a long time coming. You never let me play with you. Is it because I always kick your ass?” Chloe said with a broad smirk. “What! You don’t kick my ass! I’m the best gamer!” Niles’s voice cracked as he defensively shifted in his chair, his diaper crinkling more. “Aww, someone sounds cranky! Did you wet your diaper again?” Chloe said in the most mocking, syrupy voice. The red color slowly left Niles’s cheeks as he became pale with fear. She didn’t! Did she really just say that, in front of his audience? “Hah hah…” Niles chuckled nervously. “That’s not funny, I don’t wear diapers.” “Oh really?” The taller girl said, walking closer. She was bigger and stronger. Niles couldn’t stop her. She lifted him up out of his chair by putting her hands under his arms. His diaper was peeking out the waistband of his jeans and the chat started to go crazy. >OMG, DIAPER BOY! >Lookin’ cute, The Crackle >WTFFFF he’s wearing diapers! >What a B-A-B-Y ? “Chloe, why?” Niles whined. He knew why though. If he just shared and wasn’t so selfish he wouldn’t be in this situation. He was too embarrassed to even look at chat now, but there were suddenly more donations rolling in. “Ooh, ten dollars from MistyGamer44. Fifteen from DanNo4Getter!” Chloe read off the names of the high donations. She grinned, seeing this golden opportunity. She was going to help her baby brother earn some money, and then maybe he would buy some things for her as well. “Well chat, you want to see more?” “No!” Niles trembled. Chloe yanked down the boy’s pants. His diaper was exposed. The soft white material was clearly yellowed. The HD camera was picking up every detail. He only took up 1/8th of the screen though. Going into the Broadcaster Studio software, Chloe held her brother up with one arm while her free hand expanded the window size. Now he took up the entire screen. “Show everyone that cute little butt!” Chloe said, turning Niles around to show his diapered bottom, which had yellow staining on the seat as well. She started reading off more names from donors. He was starting to get 20 dollar donations now! “Wow, looks like we know what your audience really wants to see, the gaming baby!” She thought for a minute. “Oh I know! How about instead of THE CRACKLE we call you THE CRINKLE from now on!” >The CRINKLE! THAT’S PERFECT!!! ??? >LOLOLOLOLOLOLLLLLL! >OMGG he’s WET! >Does baby need a changing? I’ll come over there and do it! Niles wanted to run away, but he felt stiff. Well, stiff in more ways than one. He was being humiliated thoroughly online, and people would remember this, but it was strangely exciting at the same time. On top of that, donations were pouring in as his sister kept reading off names. Was he really willing to sacrifice his dignity for donations online? He suddenly felt a cramp in his stomach. Oh no… He didn’t always mess his diaper, but when he did it always led to an embarrassing diaper change by his mom or sister. He was visibly uncomfortable and squirming. “Oh dear, I think the little diaper boy has to poop.” Chloe giggled. “What do you say, chat? You want to see this dirty, lazy, nasty little boy poop his diaper?” The chat was emphatic. They were practically cheering and the donations kept coming in. Chloe whispered into her brother’s ear. “Go ahead, you know you want to. Give your fans what they want.” Niles swallowed hard. His penis was throbbing in his soggy diapers. Oh god, he was really going to do this, he thought. He relaxed and even pushed a little. A thick poop came out of his bottom and dropped into his diaper. On cam, everyone could see the way the diaper bulged and then sagged as the poop came out and emptied into the diaper, one log at a time, like filling a plastic grocery bag. The chat was practically cheering for him as he shamed himself live on stream. “Oh, The Crinkle really had to go! You made so much poopies for chat!” Chloe giggled, talking down to her brother like he was a baby. Niles felt awkward as his penis remained erect even as his sister teased him. “I think it’s time for the grand finale! Who wants to see the diaper boy get his diaper changed?” Chloe announced. She didn’t even have to look at chat for an answer. She adjusted the webcam to point it at the bed. She brought her brother over to the bed and laid him on his back. Going under the bed, Chloe got a fresh diaper from an open package. She even picked up the package to show everyone, letting them know the brand Teenz Adult Diapers was what little Niles wore. “Hey, maybe someday we can get a sponsorship!” Chloe reached for the tabs of the boy’s diaper. She tore the tapes one at a time. “One, two, three, four.” She counted each tape. She did not even flinch at the sight of her brother’s big erection. Not even the big lumpy mess seemed to bother her. She remained professional for the viewers as she grabbed Niles’s ankles and got the baby wipes with her other hand. She wiped the mess off his dirty rump. Chloe then pulled the old diaper away, folding it up, taping it into a tight ball, and then tossing it like a dirty basketball into his trash bin. She got the new diaper and slid it under Niles. The whole experience was so embarrassing and he still couldn’t get his erection to go down. After his butt and privates were doused with a quick shake of baby powder the diaper front came up and was sealed over his penis as it was still pointing upward. Chloe essentially was trapping his naughty erection in the diaper. She gave the front a few firm pats. “Naughty little boy. You like your diapers, don’t you?” Niles didn’t answer. He figured it was evident anyway and just had an awkward smile on his face as his now clean penis was throbbing excitedly in the plastic prison. Chloe went back to chat, sitting down in Niles’s gaming chair. She whipped her hair back and brushed her bangs from her eyes as she read off donor’s names and thanked everyone for coming to The Crinkle’s fist ever livestream. All while she said this, the diaper boy was still in frame, lying on his back on the bed. Chloe glanced over her shoulder once chat drew her attention to something. She saw her brother rubbing his diaper furiously, too horny to care who was watching. Chloe turned back to chat with a giggle. “What do you say? When he finishes maybe he should get a spanking?” Chloe asked the chat. Obviously, they were all in after the quick poll. It did not take long for Niles to end up having an orgasm in his fresh diapers. It was probably the best orgasm he’s ever had. He laid panting on the bed, trying to catch his breath after such an intense moment. It wasn’t over though. Chloe walked over to the spent over, flipping him over on the bed and pulling his legs until he was dangling halfway off the mattress. She held her hand up and began to smack the boy’s butt right through the diaper. She giggled happily, swatting the boy in front of a big chat room full of people, for all to see. Niles trembled from the spanking and just about drooled on his sheets. He slid off his bed slowly, but Chloe helped him back up. The girl turned back to the chat, waving goodbye, and then she shut it off. She turned to her brother with a big, proud smile. “I expect you to split those donations with me 50/50… and hey, maybe we’ll keep doing this.” Chloe looked down at her silly brother. This was the cute boy she remembered playing with when the two of them were younger. Maybe he was a little more perverted now, but this perversion felt oddly innocent. Before leaving his bedroom she knelt down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. ~~~ Niles came to after his brief moment of dazed euphoria. He wiped the drool from his cheek and weakly walked back to his gaming chair, plopping down and looking at a replay of the humiliating livestream, which was now on loop on his channel. He went into his private Discord and had a chat with his two friends. Da-Crackle: Well… that happened. SlappyHapperz: Yeah. RoosYaBoy: I guess everyone knows you’re a diaper boy now, huh? Da-Crackle: y-yeah… SlappyHapperz: It’s not so bad. At least you won’t have to sneak around anymore. RoosYaBoy: Yeah, and you won’t have to worry about being cool either! Da-Crackle: ha ha. Real funny. RoosYaBoy: cheer up. All those people in chat thought you looked cute. Da-Crackle: yeah big deal RoosYaBoy: Kristy from school was in chat. Da-Crackle: wait… really? aw no SlappyHapperz: she said you were cute Da-Crackle: ? ~end~

INTRO Chris was going to graduate high school in a few months, and he couldn’t wait. He had a full ride all but signed. To run track for Michigan State University. He just had to finish this season on top, and get his diploma. That’s not the only reason he spent so many hours training after school. His home life wasn’t... good. His relationship with his step-mom, Karen left much to be desired, when his father was still alive - and it didn’t get better after he passed. Chris was like his old man. He was good at whatever he did. He was a prince of the universe, and his father Jeff... he was a god. Their lives were handed to them on silver platters, whether they wanted it or not. It was a devine legacy, a law of the cosmos : that he won home-comeing king, and was dating the head cheerleader, Sarah Clancy. Chris had a lot of trophies, but she was his most prized possession. Sarah was a fairy princess manifested in the real world. She had beautiful red curls, and her eyes were deep pools of green… she had porcelain skin, and perfect curves. By the seventh grade she had a body that would make grown men turn their heads, only to feel like monsters seconds later. When they realized what they were making eyes at - and, she had only grown up since then. Rachel was his father’s newest trophy. She was Jeff’s second wife. Chris’s step-mom. She wasn’t much in the brains department, but she had legs for days, and she knew how to use them... and the rest of her body too, for that matter. She was Victoria’s Secret model, before trying to become an actress. Jeff tried to jump start her acting career, but a pretty face and perfect body wasn’t enough to land a serious role. She never said it, but Chris was sure Rachel resented the both of them - for how effortlessly the world catered to their every need. He knew why his dad kept her around though. He would be lying if he said he didn't spend a night or two thinking about her before falling asleep. Rachel would always say to people, “If you wanted to know what I used to look like, here you go...” and then make a gesture towards her daughter, Hannah - Chris’s step sister. “Why would anybody not pick this angel to be the captain of the cheerleading team?... You know I was the captain of the cheer team as a sophomore...” Hannah was sixteen. A junior. and she knew what her mom was doing, but she didn’t care, because it kept her happy. Rachel didn’t lie, though. Hannah was a carbon copy of her mom when she was that age. A ‘ten’ in any man’s book, the both of them. still. Only... Hannah had the brains that her mom didn’t. Which probably made her hate Chris even more than Rachel. It was bad enough she had to live in her mom’s shadow, but she had to live in Sarah’s shadow too... and Sarah was over a lot because of Chris. PART I Hannah and her mom were in line at an audition for a mother / daughter part in a commercial. She wasn’t really excited about the part, she was more into her social media pages these days. but she figured Sarah hadn’t been on television yet, so she would have that on her. Maybe she could finally get more followers than her. She already had more than Chris. A fact she never let him forget that. Just thinking about them made her blood boil. It didn’t help that there was a television a few feet away from her. Playing the local news, at an obnoxiously loud volume. The cherry on top : it was a puff piece about Chris. Her track star, golden child, step brother - and how he was going to be the first athlete to get a full ride to a major university from their high school... that he was a top prospect for the upcoming olympic team. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, she was just trying to focus on anything but that fucking T.V. A nearby conversation did the trick - between a girl Hannah’s age. and what one would assume to be the girl's mother... grandmother... She couldn’t tell. “Oh! My! Gawd!... I can’t even!!! Are you really still taking those things? Did you not hear what happened to Gal Gadot?” The older woman was obviously upset about something that her daughter had just popped in her mouth. “What now!” the girl droned. “Please mom tell me! How else did Gal Gadot get in such good shape for the new Wonder Woman movie? I’m dying to know” She washed the pill down with a pull from her water bottle before getting an answer. “She might have gotten in good shape, but I heard from Aunt Linda, who gets her hair done by the same stylist as Ms.Gadot, that those pills made her incontinent.” The woman realized that her daughter didn’t quite grasp the concept. “Like... She pees her pants now, and has to wear diapers 24/7.” “OH MY GOD! WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING!!! It isn’t going to happen to me is it?” The young girl bumped into Hannah as she ran towards the bathroom. Presumably to purge her system of the dangerous pill she just injested. “One of the other ladies there told Aunt Linda that she’s pretty sure she caught Gal pooping in a diaper before she could get her skirt off in the bathroom!” the woman was yelling across the room now. Hannah saw the girl throw the bottle of pills into the trash on the way to the bathroom. “You better hope you haven’t taken too many of those things already! If you think I’m going to be changing your diapers again, you have another thing coming! I did that enough when you were in middle school!” The woman’s mouth curled into a baleful smile as she dumped more vodka from her purse into her water bottle, and lit a cigarette. Obviously pleased with herself for winning an argument and knocking her spoiled little daughter down a peg. “Do you really think Gal Gadot has to wear diapers because of that stuff?” Hannah asked her mom. There was no way she was the only one that heard that. “I don’t know, Hannah...” Rachel shrugged at her daughter. Her eyes were glued to the television - like burning cigarettes. The news spot covering Chris was still playing. “If she does, I sure wish your step brother would take them. Put that immature little delinquent in his place for once.” It wasn’t any secret that Chris and his friends threw parties every weekend, where they got drunk and high. Hannah had her mother convinced she was never a part of that scene. “YASSS!!!... oh my god, yes!” Hannah shook her mother's arm with excitement. “What would his perfect little girlfriend, and all his stupid minions say if he had to wear diapers again!?!” Her smile was full of more malice than one person should legally carry. “Can we do it please?!?!?” She shook her mother’s arm hard. “Oh, can we please mommy dearest?!? CAN WE PLEASE?!? “Can we what?” Rachel looked at her daughter, confused. Not quite grasping the concept she just introduced. “What do you mean, ‘can we what’?” Hannah questioned. “Can we give Chris those pills! please!... please!... PLEASE MOM!!!” Hannah shook her mom’s arm on more time. “You know you want to.” “OH... Hannah!” Rachel scoffed at her teenage daughter. “That’s terrible!” she looked at her with wide eyes. “What are you waiting for then?... GO!” Rachel pushed her daughter up out of her chair, and whispered loudly. “Go get ‘em!” Hannah skipped across the room and loitered around the trash can the girl had thrown the pills into until she was sure nobody was watching. She grabbed the bottle out of the trash, shoved it into her purse, and skipped back to her seat. “I got them” she whispered to her mom. “How many do you think he’ll have to take? Do you think it will work?” “I would say however many that poor girl took.” Rachel answered with a smile. “And I’m pretty sure they work...” Hannah followed her mom's finger across the room. She saw the girl that threw the pills away standing just outside the bathroom door. She was crying, and there was a large and obvious dark spot that started at the crotch of her little grey yoga pants, and ran down the length of both her legs. “GWEN!!! WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!” The girl's mother hollered. “You were in the bathroom! What happened? How many of those things did you take?!?” The woman rushed to her daughter’s side. “There wasn’t an open stall!” the girl cried. Her big blue eyes were full of tears. Maskara was running down her face. “I couldn’t hold it! I only was taking them for a few days! MOM!... It was just an accident!!!” You could tell she was trying to convince herself that it was a one-time thing more so than her mom. “Is it...” The girl's mother wrapped a shawl around the front of her daughter’s waist. “I’m not gonna... gonna...” she tried to finish her sentence between desperate sobs. “GONNA NEED TO WEAR DIAPERS?!?!?” she finally wailed. Her mother had already started to push her towards the exit. Whispering something into her ear. “IT WAS JUST AN ACCIDEEEAAHHHH!!!” The girl wretched and moaned, she grabbed handfuls of her own ass, and fell to her knees. “GWEN! What are you... ARE YOU POOPING YOUR PANTS?!?” The woman tried to get her daughter off the floor. “People are starting to film you Gwen! We have to go or the only job you’re going to get will be for a pampers commercial! Hannah, and Rachel talked about their plan the whole way home from the audition, and didn’t waste any time getting Chris his ‘medicine’ that night. “That girl said she only took a few days worth, and that happened to her.” Hannah said, breaking several days worth open over Chris’s mashed potatoes, and stirring the powder in. “That should be a good start!” Hannah turned to her mom and laughed. Rachel broke one more open, and stirred it into the potatoes too. “One more for good measure... cant hurt.” She shrugged, and winked at Hannah. The two were snickering amongst each other as they watched Chris finish his dinner. He had no idea what they found so god damned funny. Later that night Hannah and Chris were watching Jimmy Fallon. “So you all remember the girl from the new Progrsive ads? You know... the younger, sexier Flo?” Fallon made a cringed face before continuing, and a graphic of the girl from the audition earlier flashed across the screen. “Well apparently she was too young. But not too young to go viral...” The screen cut to a video of the poor girl at the end of her embarrassing exhibition crawling across the floor on all fours as her mother tried to cover her daughter from getting caught on camera. “I pooped my pants mom! I don’t want to wear diapers like Gal Gadot!!! I DON’T WANT TO POOP MY PANTS!!!” The girl collapsed into a pile on the floor, and the camera got a good zoomed shot of her piss and shit stained yoga pants. Before the screen cut back to Fallon. “Actually I’m being told she wasn’t too young. Apparently most people get potty trained when they are toddlers. Except Wonder Woman too, apparently?” Jimmy wore a puzzled look, and threw his hands in the air. “We tried to reach out to Diana of Themyscira for a comment... but we haven’t heard back. Maybe she was getting her diaper changed at the time.” “That’s horrible! That poor girl...” Chris remarked. still laughing, though. “I can’t even imagine if something like that happened to me... can you, Hannah?” “Oh I can imagine something like that happening to you.” she muttered under her breath. “What was that?” Chris asked. “I said No I can’t... That’s terrible.” She arched her back, stretched her arms, and yawned. “I’m gonna go to bed. Sleep tight.” Hannah smiled at Chris, and stood up. “Yeah... Goodnight Hannah.” Chris hollered at his step sister as she made her way upstairs. The screen flashed a still of the girl laying on the floor covered in her own make one more time before a commercial break. Chris cocked his head slightly to the one side as he looked at the image. “Hmm... what a shame. She’s got a nice ass.” he muttered to himself before turning the T.V. off and heading to bed himself.

The Vacation: Part 1 Tony felt like he was going to vibrate in excitement. But he couldn't let his parents pick up on what he was thinking as they carried their bags to the door. "Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. Have fun on your trip!" He told them both as he hugged them. As previously stated, his parents were going out of town for a whole week. Needing some time for themselves and finally feeling comfortable enough to do so for longer than a few days. Usually, Tony would be stuck "babysitting" his 14 year old sister Isabella during this time. Toting her to all her friends' houses, cooking her dinner every night, even bringing her along when he went into town for his own business. He loved her, of course, but for a young man at the age of 18 he had better things to do when left alone. That would change this time however. Isabella had managed to convince her parents to let her go on a school trip to New York that lasted the same duration. She was ecstatic. And so was Tony for that matter. He finally had the freedom to do what he wanted while his parents were gone. Who knows when he'd get another chance like this! "Try not to burn the house down while we're gone." His father told him only partially joking. "George, give him a break. He's such a good boy! You know we never have to worry about him." His mom, only able to do so thanks to her heels, grabbed his cheeks in a pinch and spoke to him in a baby voice. "Isn't that right, Mama's baby boy? Always been Daddy's good boy too!" "Mom! Cut it out!" Tony whined as he pulled away. Cheeks red from both the pinching and embarrassment. "You're gonna miss your flight!" His father, always early, instinctively looked to his watch and nodded. "Josie we better get going so we can get there before it gets busy." Tony's mother waved him off but grabbed her bag anyway. "Fine. Bye sweetie! We'll text you when we get there! Call us if anything happens!" Finally, finally, his parents got into the car and drove away. As soon as Tony closed the door he let out a large cheer and raced up the stairs to his room. Texting his friends the good news, they all shared his feelings. 'Tony does this mean 24 hours gaming sessions every day?!' His best friend Dylan asked. 'You wish.' Tony texted back. 'Well are we going to at least play right now?' 'Give me an hour. I need to go to the store and stock up on microwave food.' He lied feeling only slightly guilty. 'Bummer man.' Tony was going to the store, but his focus wasn't the microwave food. They had plenty already. What he wanted was the diapers. An unusual thing to want as an 18 year old boy. But Tony wasn't like other boys. He wasn't a party-er of any sort; more content to play video games online with his friends instead. And unlike most boys, while he did play sports, he wasn't obsessed with them. This was summer break though. No sports to be played at all. And no sister to bug him into taking her with him. And nobody else in the house to catch him... His phone beeped, catching his attention. 'At the airport now, hun. See you in a week!' His mom messaged. That was the all clear. Now stuck at the airport, there was no chance of them randomly coming home for forgotten items. Grabbing his keys off his desk, he raced back downstairs and to his own car in the driveway. Driving to the nearest store he knew would have them, Tony couldn't sit still. He knew where he was going and knew what he wanted. Going down the isle of adult diapers, he found a package that had just what he needed. Heavy absorbency, disposable, tab closure diapers. He would never be able to buy these with his sister. She would question him on every turn. He wouldn't even be able to look at them. But she wasn't here now. Turning to go check out, Tony's eyes caught on a colorful package. It was a package of Goodnites. Marketed for bedwetters. Tony already had what he needed...but the childish designs on the pull-ups made him curious to what they would feel like on him. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to try, he grabbed one of the largest sizes hoping they would fit. Shopping done, he went straight for the self-checkout, and took his new purchases home. Heart pounding in his chest, Tony grabbed the packages and tossed them onto his bed, unsure on which to try first...but he would have plenty of time for both.

MY DADDY THE DIPLOMAT By LtlGary “But Dad, I don’t need any help. I can change myself.” I whined. “I know you can, Dustin. But where we’re going you won’t be allowed to. Besides, we’re both guys. And we got the same equipment. Or did you forget I used to change your diapers when you were a baby?” I grumbled under my breath as Dad laid the changing pad on the hotel room bed. He neatly lined up the bottles of baby powder and rash cream. Next came the diapers. I had wanted just the plain white disposables, but Dad had insisted on getting a variety. “Dinos, Race Cars, or Super Heroes?” He asked me. “I don’t care. You can pick.” I murmured. He picked up a race car diaper and ushered me over to the bed. I raised my arms, like a boy much younger than me would. My shirt was soon pulled off my skinny ten year old body. My pants were next, falling to the ground. I simply stared at my Dad in just my boxer briefs. He saw I was getting emotional and snatched me off the ground in a big bear hug. “It’s ok. I know moving isn’t easy. But this new diplomatic post is a dream come true. It will be a fresh start. For the both of us.” “I know, but I can’t help feeling that we’re leaving Mom behind.” Losing my mother to cancer had been hard on the both of us. Dad had used up all his medical leave to be with her. He had gone into deep debt with all kinds of experimental treatments. Eventually he had to sell the house. My grades also began to suffer as I didn’t see the point of keeping up with my schoolwork. Mom had always helped me with my homework, and she always made it practical as well as fun. We were lucky enough to have church friends who helped take care of us after the funeral. Who bought me diapers when my bedwetting had reared its ugly head. To have a shoulder to cry on. Who even babysat me when Dad had to work long hours to pay off the debt. Three months later Dad was called into the office. He had been appointed to be a junior diplomat for the island nation of Panjeah. The next few days we packed all our things and hopped on the next flight over. The trip would take two days, and currently we were in a hotel. In a city called San Romero I think? I can’t remember. Dad gently lowered my boxer briefs to the floor where they joined my jeans. “You know why I’m doing this?” I wiped my eyes. “Panjeah keeps all children under 18 in diapers. Not to mention I have to wear a uniform to school. Don’t they treat all their kids like infants and toddlers?” “Not all of them. It depends on their behavior. You won’t have to deal with corporal punishment, which is a crying shame…” “Dad!” “Only joking. Most kids can wear regular clothes just like you. Only the naughty ones will be pushed around in strollers or be in harnesses.” “You’re not planning on doing anything like that with me?” “Relax. As long as you make good grades and get along with everyone, then you will have nothing to worry about. The only change will be wearing diapers 24/7 instead of just at nighttime.” Dad laid me down onto the bed. He made sure to cover my ‘package’ and my rear with lots of rash cream. “Not so much powder, I don’t want people to know.” He fixed me with a stare. “Sorry.” I nervously brushed my bright red hair out of my eyes as Dad finished taping up my sides. “There, all finished!” “Thanks, Dad.” “You’re welcome, Dustin.” He set me on my own bed next to his. “Dad?” “Yes?” “I love you.” “I know.” I curled up with my blankie and closed my eyes. I felt the sheets being tucked around my small frame and a kiss on my forehead. *** The next morning my diaper was drenched. I didn’t dream about Mom like I did most nights, strangely enough. It was the first restful night I’d had in months. Dad let me have the shower first, which I greatly appreciated. He probably wanted to dispose of my diaper and not leave it for the maids. I let the water pour down my frame, imagining all my worries going down the drain. Dad helped me towel off, paying extra attention to my mid-section. He offered me the same choice as last night and I chose super heroes. Moments later I was sporting a thick diaper with a Marvel super hero on the front. “I laid out new jeans for you, since your old ones won’t fit in your current state.” I took my time getting dressed while Dad was in the shower. The jeans were loose enough to hide my diaper but tight enough to stay on my waist. I silently prayed that no one would notice. We packed our things and were out of the hotel room by 10. We stopped for breakfast on the way to the airport, which was across the street. We took our time since we had our own private plane to take us to Panjeah. One of the perks of Dad working for the government. I tried not to eat too much because flying didn’t agree with me. It was never take off, or when we were at cruising altitude. It was whenever there was turbulence or landing. I hated carrying my used motion sickness bags but Dad didn’t want anyone else dealing with that. He had spent years in the service industry before landing his government job, so he didn’t want to inconvenience anyone else with my problems. After we ate we walked over and checked in with security. Dad had both our tickets and passports. There wasn’t much of a line, nor many families. Most of Dad’s coworkers were single or didn’t have kids. Dad always commented on how much fun they were missing out on. I stayed close as we boarded. Once I put my bag under my seat, I pulled out my large puzzle book to help me keep my mind away from my surroundings. I was busy with a complicated word search when the plane rushed down the runway. We took to the cloudless skies. “How long is the flight?” I looked up after I finished my search. “Little over four hours.” Dad was listening to a news podcast. I pulled out my blankie from my bag and curled up in my seat. Dad draped an arm over my shoulder as I closed my eyes. I imagined myself on the start of an epic journey, a quest to find ancient treasure. Bullies from my previous school morphed into monsters for me to slay. My old school became a treacherous swamp. As a knight of the realm, I travelled far and wide in long expansive battles. Sadly, my adventure faded from my mind as I fell into a dreamless sleep. Dad shook me awake a few hours later. “We’re here.” I looked out the window to find the plane rolling up to the small terminal. “Are you sure you didn’t drug my orange juice this morning?” “I swear. I’m as surprised as you are.” “First time I slept through a landing.” I gathered my things. I glanced out the window as I put my blankie back in my backpack. “Why isn’t there a gate?” “Panjeah only has a small airport. There’s only a handful of flights in or out.” We exited the plane and walked down the offered stairs. The smell of the ocean assaulted my nostrils. Followed by the crashing waves. Palm trees waved in the breeze. I held my hand in front of my eyes to shield them from the afternoon glare. A small entourage awaited us in the small terminal. Most of the adults were dressed just like Dad in business casual clothing. I noticed a few children following their parents. Each had a tell-tale waddle as well as a bulge around their waist. Even the teenagers weren’t exempt. Dad walked up to a large brown skinned muscular man. “Katoa! Good to finally meet you in person!” “Likewise, Derrick! And who do we have here?” I hid behind my Dad as my nerves got the better of me. “This is my son, Dustin. Don’t mind him, he’s shy around new people.” Katoa knelt in front of me so we saw eye to eye. “Pleased to meet you, little man.” “Hi.” I didn’t feel like talking. We walked out to the tiny parking lot where a small car was waiting for the three of us. Dad and I didn’t check any luggage since most of our things would arrive by ship in a couple of days. Dad and Katoa chatted about important details: getting his office up and running, vehicle options, and getting groceries. I perked up when they talked about my schooling. “So I’ll be attending the local school here?” I inquired. “Indeed, little man. I’m sure you’ll be quite the catch.” Katoa replied. He wasn’t kidding. Most Panjeese had tanned leathery skin, long black hair, and even blacker eyes. I doubt they’d seen a kid with fire engine hair and eyes the color of the ocean. “We’ll need to get you fitted for your school uniform tomorrow.” Dad informed me. “Has school started yet?” “Next week. Maybe you’ll have a chance to run into my kids.” Katoa grinned at me. We arrived at the small flat. It was a single story abode that rested over a bluff overlooking the ocean. Volcanic rock bricks covered the outside. Dad admired the spacious living room and kitchen. My room was twice the size of my old one. There was only one bathroom, but I had a little side room that was fully stocked with a large changing table, cream, powder, and plenty of diapers. But the best part? I had my own sink and shower! I have craved it since Dad and I had to share in our small condo. Maybe not having access to a toilet wasn’t so bad at all. A question popped into my head as I waved good bye to Katoa and the driver. “Dad? Who’s gonna be here when I get off from school?” “There’ll be plenty of activities to keep you busy once school is out. Didn’t you say you wanted to try out for the soccer team?” “Can I?” I begged. “Of course!” He laughed. “That and study hall should keep you busy until I’m finished with work.” “I’d love it if you could pick me up.” “No promises.” “Oh, and Dad?” “Yes?” “Could I get a change?” “Sure thing.” He ruffled my hair. *** That night we slept on just the mattresses. I don’t know how Dad could afford them. Not that he’d tell me if I asked him. I was just glad that Dad and I could use this to start over. We both needed a fresh start after the large trial we endured. I was so comfy that I had trouble getting up, though I think the time change had something to do with it. Dad had to pry me out of bed and carry me to my changing table. Soon I was in a fresh Dino diaper and being carried into the kitchen. “Do you want to sit in the high chair? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I didn’t see it the first tour of the condo. But there it was, up against the table in the center of the kitchen. I was still struggling to wake up so I simply shrugged. Dad plopped me in and set the tray in front. Soon I was watching him cook. Something he hasn’t done in quite a while. Dad loved cooking and was quite good at it. I loved to help him mix ingredients while he would man the stove. Or when he’d pick me up so I could reach the stove timer in order to set it. Mom would always be his go to assistant, and both of them would juggle meats, vegetables and make all kinds of dishes. When Mom got sick he started cooking less and less. Soon I was having microwaved meals more often than not. When she left us, I feared he would never cook because the memories we made would be too painful. I brushed my memories aside as Dad plopped a plate full of French toast in front of me. Along with an egg on the side. Neither of us said much, letting the amazing food do the talking. I made sure to lick the plate clean of maple syrup. “All done!” I announced. Dad unbuckled me from my high chair and I weaseled my way to the floor. “Hurry and get dressed, we have a busy day today.” I put on yesterday’s jeans and my favorite rock band t-shirt. Soon there was a honk in the driveway. I made my way out to the living room to find Dad and Katoa chatting. We piled into the car and drove into the nearby village. Dad told me that Katoa was simply dropping off the car, and it was ours to drive. “Do you work with my Dad?” I asked him. “Of course. I translate for him.” “Don’t most Panjeese speak English?” “Most of the kids do. As well as those in the big cities. Not so much out in the countryside.” We pulled up in front of an old stone building. Numerous paintings greeted us as we walked in. Mannequins were everywhere, dressed in fancy attire. Racks of dress clothing lined the walls. A tall skinny man in slacks and a vest came from the back room. “Welcome, welcome! I see you are here to get the little one fitted?” “Yup.” “Well then, come over here.” The tailor beckoned me to a small stool. “Now, please strip down to your diaper so I can get your measurements.” My face turned white. “Uh, Dad?” “Relax, Dustin. I’m sure he’s seen dozens of boys in just their diapers.” He reassured me. “Do you have soccer gear as well?” “I do indeed. Does your son intend to try out for the school team?” “You bet I do!” I answered enthusiastically before Dad could say anything. I had desperately wanted to try out for sports, but Mom’s sickness never gave me the chance. “Good! My son had mentioned rumors that there might not be a team this year because there wasn’t enough support. What position did you want to play?” “Goalie.” “Maybe if you’re a good boy for your father and me, I’ll let you try on the gear? Even though I’m supposed to wait for tryouts.” The tailor winked at Dad. In a flash I had stripped off my t-shirt and jeans and was standing on the stool with my hands behind my back. The tailor chuckled as he brought out the measuring tape. He wrapped it around my waist, then had me stretch it along my arms. Humming to himself, the tailor walked back to the racks and returned with a polo shirt onesie with the school emblem on the right breast. “Hold up your arms.” I obediently raised them, having been familiar with this routine. The tailor expertly pulled the onesie over my head and onto my body. He knelt as he did the snaps around my crotch. Next came the elastic short shorts. Oh Lord they were short! Most of my thighs were showing! I would have wagered that they were the same length of my old boxer briefs. Lastly were the knee high socks and shoes. “You look great.” Dad gave me a thumbs up. He glanced at the tailor. “We’ll take four sets.” The tailor nodded as he disrobed me. He piled the clothes onto the seat next to Dad. Mumbling to himself, he meandered to the back of his shop and returned with several soccer jerseys, shoes, shin guards, and gloves. “Where are the shorts?” I asked. The tailor exchanged a large grin with Katoa. “You don’t play with any on. It’s tradition.” Katoa tried not to laugh. “You’ll be issued a plastic diaper cover by your team which will have your number on your rear end.” I was speechless. I knew this country was different, but I wasn’t expecting this! “He’s only joking. Give me a moment.” The tailor went back and rummaged around until he found a pair of elastic short shorts in the school’s colors. They were the exact same length and material of my school shorts. The tailor helped me strap on my gear. Katoa pulled a soccer ball from the trunk of the car. We went outside for a little practice at the park across the street. “I’ll also take what he’s wearing as well.” Dad handed the tailor a wad of cash. “Keep the change.” “You are most gracious, sir. You and your son are welcome here anytime.” Dad took his time loading my school clothes into the back of the car, as he wanted to watch me and Katoa play. Several children had noticed our playing and soon the ball was being kicked around by a group of kids. To Be Continued

This was a silly story written for Valentine's Day. It originally appeared on my Patreon. There's not much plot or characterization- it was just a fun little scene. If you'd like early access to story updates and new stories, please consider joining my Patreon. https://www.patreon.com/Cute_Kitten I want to thank my generous patreon supporters. Your support really does mean a lot to me! I haven't mentioned names- I didn't ask if anyone was okay with that, even just initials, and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I need to ask before I'd mention names, but I'm very thankful for their support. HEART SHAPED PIZZA by CK Could he really do this? Liam stared at the big wooden high chair just waiting for him. His stomach knotted up with anxiety. He never sat in one before. Hell, he’d never done an age play scene before, especially with another person. The only times he’d ever indulged in his AB side was when he was home alone, doors locked and curtains shut. He’d put on a cute, thick, crinkly diaper, a onesie, and break out his secret stash of toddler toys. Today was a huge step for him. His first play time with another person, his girlfriend Zoe. This was her Valentine’s Day gift to him. One night, while looking at pictures on Fetlife together, he’d expressed the desire to deepen his AB indulgences. “Leave it to me!” She’d said with an excited clap of her hands. It was a whole lot of work on her part and a whole lot of blind trust on his. They’d been dating for 6 months after meeting on Fetlife. Liam was 25, a young architect and Zoe was 23 and a legal assistant at the District Attorney’s office. For both of them, this was their first serious relationship, though Zoe had more dating experience but not much age play experience. This was her first time as mommy doing something aside from checking and changing Liam’s diaper. The high chair loomed at the end of the dining room like a king’s throne. A knot formed in his throat; Liam swallowed noisily and froze in his tracks. This was too much; he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t plop his butt in that chair though deep down inside he wanted to. The people in the Fetlife photos all looked so happy in their own highchairs, so carefree and in touch with their Inner Baby. So what was stopping him? The rational part of his brain that screamed how ridiculous this was, the part of him that was ashamed of his desires to be diapered, to be dressed as a giant baby, to play with toys. “Go on, don’t be shy!” Zoe’s hands shoved on the small of his back. Her voice was chipper with enthusiasm. Liam was a big boy, just over 6 feet tall. Zoe was a shorty at barely 5 feet. Their height difference seemed like a colossal joke by the universe. Judging off appearances, tiny Zoe should’ve been the baby and big Liam the daddy. Zoe was a little pudgy, with frizzy brown curls in a mop cut. Liam was big and broad, muscled from years of working at his dad’s construction business while he put himself through architecture school. Liam stumbled forward, catching himself on the door frame. “M-maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…” He mumbled nervously. “It’s your highchair for our special meal together! Come on!” Zoe shoved harder. Despite their vast size difference, her moxie often made her seem much larger than her small stature. Liam’s fingers slipped off the wooden door frame and he stumbled into the room with a series of crinkles from his thick, plastic backed diaper. He blushed at the noise. He wore a blue t-shirt with a cartoon dragon holding a pink glittery heart on it. His diaper was a thick, crinkly ABU Peekabu with the green dragon. Zoe wore a red t-shirt with a panda bear holding a purple heart and a pink corduroy skirt and a pink bow in her hair. Liam braced his legs, stumbling forward as Zoe pushed him. He leaned his full weight back; she grunted but still pushed. “You’ve just got cold feet like our first date. C’mon. I had to drag you out then and I’ll drag you to that chair now. You’ll thank me later.” She was full of exuberant confidence, sure her boyfriend was just being shy and nervous. “This IS our first date. In a way.” He blushed harder. Their first Mommy and Baby dinner together. A dinner she’d put a lot of thought into. Something special for him. For them. Guilt twisted his heart. He really, really wanted to sit down in that high chair and let himself go, be the happy silly baby Zoe loved to fuss over, but self-disgust held him back. “Yes. So why are you being such a wet blanket?” Zoe pushed him again. He stumbled several steps forward, diaper crinkling with each one. “Because.” Liam didn’t want to say what was in his heart. Zoe was so happy; why couldn’t he just let himself go and enjoy it like she was? “Because why? You’ve been wanting this for so long. You’re just a big chicken.” She pushed him some more, grunting with the effort as he resisted more. He crinkled, feet heavy as he approached his highchair. “This is wrong!” Liam blurted out, face red and struggling to suppress his tears. The arms pushing him suddenly stopped as Zoe stepped away. She came around in front of him, reaching up so she could stroke his cheeks. “Liam? What’s going on in that head of yours?” Her tone was gentle despite her brusque words and her big blue eyes probed him. He shuddered. “I want to. I really, really do. But I’m scared. There’s a voice in my head that tells me this is wrong. That it’s disgusting. I’m disgusting and dirty and perverted for wanting this. You’ve worked so hard planning our Valentine’s and I’m ruining it. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes; a few tears trickled out. Her thumbs wiped them away. She stood up on her tiptoes, but even then she was still too short to reach his face. She grasped his cheeks, gently but insistently tugging him down so his face was near hers. “Hey. Shh. Are we breaking any laws? Nope. Who are we hurting? No one. Okay, so our little activity is a little odd. So what? That doesn’t make it immoral or perverted.” He bit his lip, closing his eyes and leaning into her soothing touch. “How are you so confident?” “Because I know I’m right. You’re worrying about what the rest of the world supposedly thinks. But who cares what they think? You can’t please everyone. All you’ll do is stress yourself trying. You should please yourself. You should please me, too. Since I’m your girlfriend and your hot mommy.” Her tone was warm and soothing as she teased him. He sniffled and smiled. In such a short time he’d come to trust her so much. Just a few gentle words of confidence from her were enough to waylay his fears and uncertainties. She wrapped her arms around his waist, nuzzling her face against the cartoon on his babyish t-shirt. He hugged her back. Her hands drifted lower, cupping the thick plastic backed padding and giving it a squeeze, checking him. “So, you wanna be my baby?” He blushed harder and nuzzled his face against her frizzy curls. “Yes Mommy.” “Good baby. Now, lets get baby in his highchair for his special Valentine’s din-din!” Zoe cooed, giving his diapered bottom a playful pat. His diaper rustled loudly and he smiled, both shy and happy. His insides tingled. Seconds later, his bladder released into his diaper. Zoe took his hand and led him over to the highchair. He followed obediently like a good baby. The high chair was huge, even for his big frame. He climbed up in; his thick diaper made a nice cushion on the hard wooden seat. He blushed, adrenaline racing. He felt like such a baby as his diaper crinkled under him. “First we gotta get the baby ready to eat.” Zoe chirped. She tied a pink bib with little red and white hearts around his neck. He blushed some more. She followed this up with a pair of thick, padded blue mittens than rendered his hands helpless. Liam’s eyes widened and he whimpered his helpless distress. “Mommy, how will I feed myself now?” “Don’t worry, baby. That’s Mommy’s job!” Zoe tweaked his nose playfully, kissing his cheek as she slid the big tray onto the highchair. The tray clicked into place and he felt helplessly trapped, at Mommy’s mercy, and utterly babified. With that, Zoe rushed into the kitchen, leaving Liam sitting there in just his diaper, bib, and t-shirt like an overgrown baby. He wiggled; the high chair was heavy and held him steady as he ran his mitten covered hands across the plastic tray. The padding on his hands was so thick he couldn’t feel the hard plastic tray. He smiled at how helpless and little he felt. He wiggled and crinkled his bottom in excitement. All too soon Zoe was back from the kitchen, carrying a pizza box from a local pizza place. “Close your eyes.” “What?” Liam blinked, wondering what his Mommy was up to. Even sitting in his high chair, he was still bigger than her, but her stern gaze made him feel like he’d shrunk several feet. Made him feel helpless and little inside, like she towered over him. He withered under her Mommy stare, and closed his eyes like a good baby. “Good boy.” The honey in her voice melted his bones and he smiled with a faint blush. He heard the pizza box open. “Okay, now open your eyes and see your Valentine surprise!” She giggled at the silly rhyme. Liam opened his eyes. Instead of a normal round pizza, this one was shaped like a heart. Even the pepperonis were hearts. He stared, not expecting that. But it was a brilliant marketing strategy on the side of the pizza parlors. He looked up at Zoe, who beamed at him. The joy in her eyes was infectious and he grinned back then burst into giggles. Her own smile brightened even more. “Tank..thank you, Mommy. I love...wub...you.” Baby babble was one thing he’d never managed to successfully imitate. He tried, but even when he was happily playing with his baby toys and wetting his big baby diapers, he still talked like a big boy. It was as if some part of him deep inside- the same part of him that was ashamed of this whole AB thing- held him back, kept him from fully immersing himself in it. He knew how much Zoe wanted to hear him talk like a wittle baby boy, and he tried hard. But at the last second his tongue always got tied and big boy words came out. Zoe sat the pizza down on the table and put a small slice on a plastic kiddie plate before cutting it up into little pieces so she could feed him with his plastic kiddie fork. He blushed both in anticipation and embarrassment. She sat the plate down in front of him. “I love you too, baby.” “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy.” “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Now, open wide for the choo-choo!” He might not be able to babble away, head lost to little space as his inner baby came fully out, but he could still make his Mommy happy. He closed his eyes and obediently opened his mouth, letting his Mommy feed him and telling the nasty voice in his head to shut up. He was going to enjoy his Valentine’s Day.

"Finally! We made it!" Alex said, opening the door to a tavern. The room inside was dark, only light by torches and candles. Long wooden tables and benches were spread half haphazardly over dirty floor boards, and drunken patrons laughed loudly over mugs of beer. "Now lets get drunk!""Yes, that appears to be what we normally do at this part of our quests," Julian said. He was tall, with elfin ears and short black hair.Alex sat down heavily on a bench and spread his legs wide. He waved broadly at the bar to summon the waiter and held up three fingers."I believe they expect you to go up to the bar," Julian said."Nonsense! They'll do what we pay them to do. With what we just made on that quest we can surely make it worth their while," Alex held up gold coins between his fingers. "Besides, I'm no maid or waitress, I don't serve drinks. I'm a warrior! Manliest of trades!""Are you sure you should be saying that? Given you're... issue," Julian said.Alex glared. "DON'T. BRING. THAT. UP. It makes it worse. But yes, that was an odd thing to say.""Wait, bring what up?" Joshua, the third member of their group, asked. He was shorter then the others and dark haired, and had come in as a bard."Alex's weakness," Julian said."What weakness?""NO! Don't say it. I don't have a weakness."Julian looked at Alex. "Well you know how every member of our party has strengths and weaknesses? Like how my strategy and deduction are tempered by an inability to understand human behavior?""Yes, I thought that was just a cultural difference."He shrugged. "Either way, Alex has his own.""Don't say it! I'll fight you!" Alex said, getting angry. "I'm going to get the drinks."Joshua was surprised. "Did he just challenge you?""Yes its part of the curse. He didn't mean it."Alex returned with drinks, and they all began sipping. A moment later a tall, muscular man came to the door. "Package for Alex!" he shouted out."Here!" Alex said. "This must be the new armor I ordered. Best blacksmiths in the country. I already threw my other stuff out.""Was that a good idea before you've seen it?" Joshua asked."I believe you are about to witness his weakness."The muscular man handed Alex a large cardboard box."Huh, seems really light," Alex said. He opened up the box. "HEY! What gives!""Something wrong, sir?" the blacksmith said."Its made out of plastic!" Alex shouted. He held a large, purple shield with a teddy bear etched into it. "And why is there a teddy bear on it?""You said 'bear themed." We kind of filled in the blanks.""A collar?!""Neck guard.""Yes, like a grizzly bear! Oh Jesus," Alex took out a long foam baton with a rattle at one end, colored with purple and blue stripes. "Is this supposed to be my 'sword?' "Yes." "A collar?!""Neck guard.""What else is in here? I..." he stopped and blushed. "Oh.""What is it?" Joshua asked."I'm not taking it out.""Yes, the request filled in the box for 'infant,' then requested armour, so we assumed it was for a child. Hence the rest of it.""No, no, I thought that meant I fought on foot.""Oh, I can see the confusion," he said."WHo was dumb enough to think something sized for a 6' man was for a baby?""Anyone else find it odd we have cardboard and plastic but still use torches and steel swords?" Joshua asked, but was ignored, as it wasn't relevant to the story.The blacksmith folded his arms and glowered. "Hey now, we get all sorts here. Dwarves, elves, giants, this wasn't an odd order.""Whatever. Can I get it replaced? Same order, but real?"He shook his head. "Sure thing sir, I apologize."The blacksmith left, leaving the box of toys behind."Oh god," Alex put his head in his hand."What else is in there?" Joshua asked."A large diaper and a purple sweater with a heart on it. A hood with teddy bear ears. Booties." Julian said."What?! Really?!""Uggh why do these things always happen to me?" Alex moaned."Well it can't be that bad. A simple misunderstanding on...""No, no, he's right. These things just always happen to him," Julian said. "Its his weakness. Reverse Plot Armour.""Reverse what now?""DON"T say it. It makes it worse."Julian ignored Alex and kept going. "You know how some fictional characters have 'plot armor?" No matter how bad the scenario or ridiculous the odds, they will succeed and end up looking good, because the universe wants them too succeed?""Yes...""Alex is the reverse. The universe wants him to fail.""What?""Its like his entire life is being written by a deranged author who wants him to be humiliated. No matter how hard he trains or works, in certain situations he will always lose and be embarrassed.""Really? But... we just completed a quest together! He fought off..."Julian waved his hand for silence. "Yes, yes, it has to be under the right circumstances. Specifically, when his pride is at stake. Observe. You have seen Alex drink multiple beers, correct?""Yes...""Don't you dare!" Alex said.Julian picked up a drink and handed it to Alex. "Hey Alex, can you drink this easily, or are you too immature to not spill it?""What!? I'm not imma... Shit!" he shouted as the beer poured over him."See? Now watch what happens.""No, no you triggered it! You @$$#0!%!"The owner of the bar, a short, fat and balding man, came up to Alex. "Hey! Are you spilling those drinks!? I see you can't be trusted with a glass.""What!? That's a weird thing to say! What are you, HEY! What!?"Alex was ignored as the bartender put a baby bottle full of beer in front of him. "I'm not drinking from that!" He picked it up and threw it against a wall."That's it! You are going to have to clean that up!""I'm not! Hey, let me go!" Alex struggled as the man grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. He pulled and punched, but couldn't break the man's grasp as he dragged Alex accross his lap. "Nooo let me go!""You either stop struggling or I'm going to treat you like any other misbehaved child!" He raised his hands and began spanking Alex, who moaned and shouted."The bartender is really rough," Joshua said."Oh, no, he only does this toward Alex. See, watch," Julian picked up the two remaining beers and threw them against the wall.The bartender stopped what he was doing and smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, we'll get that cleaned up and replaced for you. On the house. Have a nice day!" He then went back to spanking Alex, who was sobbing, but still struggling. The bartender pulled down his pants and continued on his bear bottom."I've seen Alex outfight monsters twice his size," Joshua said."Yes," Julian replied."And now he can't outfit an aging fat guy?"He shrugged. "Its part of the curse." They both watched as their friend was beaten into submission, then lead up and marched sobbing through the bar with his pants around his legs."Should we do something?""No, this usually will play itself out.""So... I mean, doesn't that kind of make him useless? He's supposed to be a warrior but can't fight?"Julian shook his head. "No, its only when Alex is challenged or brags about certain topics.""Soo... if the challenge makes him seem immature or incompetent, he will fail? What else?""Oh, anything that challenges his manliness. Think of it this way. If he becomes the best lock pick in the world, he will still be thwarted by anything labelled 'child safety lock,' and have his failure publicly seen. Its the same with his bragging, he doesn't even normally care unless you invoke the Reverse Plot Armor. Watch," he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted. "Hey Alex! Isn't cleaning up stuff like that a maids job? I thought you were a big tough warrior?""Yeah! I can't do this! I'm a guy... uh oh, why would I say that..." "Disrespecting woman I see!" a feminine voice said. A woman, as short and wide as the bartender with mangled hair and wearing an apron, came out of a backroom. "We will see about that.""Please no!" Alex continued his fruitless struggling as he was brought into the back."What now?" Joshua asked.Julian shrugged. "You are likely about to see one of the oddest and most common sights in our group: Alex forcibly cross dressed.""Huh. Should we do something? How long does this last?""As long as Alex keeps on saying stupid things. Which is... never, really, once the curse starts. Usually he'll end up humiliated publicly, then it will die down and he will go back to normal. People will forget when they see him again, and it repeats."There was a loud hooting and hollering. They looked at the back of the room as Alex was lead in wearing a maid's dress and carrying a bucket of water and a tray of drinks. The men in the bar all ogled him as he walked his way through to where the beer had been spilled."And we have plenty more chores for you to do after that, girl," the older woman said."Yeah yeah yeah," Alex muttered, trying to ignore her as much as the hollering. He made it to the table with the other two and handed them their drinks. He then got down on his hands and knees, and began scrubbing."So that is it? Maturity and masculinity?" Joshua asked."Usually, but it can have other effects. We tried a few times to see what triggered it with odd results. Once we got him to brag about his being human..""Really?""The curse leads to some odd statements. Anyway, we found him wearing a leash and being treated as a princesses 'pet dog.' Another time it was that he was capable of making decisions. We found him tied up and immobile. Normally its this or something like his armor.""I see. Can I try?""Don't you dare!" Alex said."Sure why not?" Julian said.Joshua thought for a moment. "Hmmm... Hey Alex. I see you crawling like that, don't only babies do that?""Well no, I have to do it to get to..."He was cut off as the bartender lifted him straight into the air and cradled him."OH come on! That one wasn't even weird, it was true!""Hush now little one! No tantrums or you'll get a spanking! I can see that this sort of thing is too complicated for you. And what is this?" he held up a damp part of Alex's skirt. "Naughty! Not telling us when you needed to go!""No that is beer! Help!" Alex shouted at his companions, kept drinking."Huh,""Yep."They heard screams and please coming from the back room, followed by loud banging noises. "Should we help him?" "No, lets see this play out. I'm sure he's used to it at this point." Julian said. The banging sounds were soon replaced with sobbing."I'm sure he'll be fine," Julian said.Alex re-appeared, this time suckling a pacifier. His dressed bulged out at his waist, and the short skirt flared up to show thick white plastic underwear under his skirt. The bar room was filled with laughter as people jeered at him. A few began to reach out and pat or grab his padded bottom, and another pulled him into his lap. Alex whined and moaned, but was helpless to stop it.Julian shook his head. "Poor Alex, diapered again.""Again?" Joshua asked.He nodded. "This really does just always happen to him."They watched as Alex suffered through a series of humiliations, getting pinched prodded from all sides, his diaper checked over and over, and spanked whenever he fought back. One held him down and began feeding him a bottle of milk."I suppose we really should do something," Julian said."How?""There is a plan. One moment," He took out a cell phone and dialed a button."See! There it is again! We live in meadival castles but have cell phones?!""Quite. Its magic," Julian said."Riiighht.""Hello," Julian said into the phone. "Its Julian, about Alex. Yes, it happened again. In the pub at the edge of town. Yes. Skirts and diapers, so ABDL and sissy. Alright, see you soon.""Who was that?""You'll see."A read haired girl, wearing light armor and carrying a spear and a bow, came into the taveran. "Ah! You've found my baby!" she shouted, and walked toward Alex."What? Ka..." Alex began, dropping his pacifier."Shhhh now," she pushed the pacifier back into his mouth. "Who found my baby?"The bartender came our from behind the bar. "What? Is she yours?""Yes, he... she, is mine. She got lost a while ago and I've been looking. Thank you so much for finding... her.""Is that true?" he looked at Alex.Alex first glared, then clamed down and looked wide eyed from the girl to the bartender. He then nodded. "She's my..." he stopped, and they all looked at him.The girl nudged him. "Say it or we'll never get out.""She's my mommy..." he said. The bar cooed at his confession, and the girl took him out."Well, we should pay and see whats going on," Julian said. He left money on the table, Joshua grabbed the box of toy armor, and they both left.Outside the girl was scolding Alex. "What did you get into this time? Huh? BAD BABY!" She held a rolled up news paper and smacked him on the head."Hey! Kacey! Don't you...""Don't talk with your pacifier in your mouth! You know that!" she smacked him again.Julian put a hand on her shoulder. "Now now, you know its his curse making you do that."She paused. "Ohh riiighht! Sorry Alex!'"Don't mention it. Seriously, please don't mention this ever again. Now let me get out of these. You have a change of clothes?""I don't know if thats the best idea," the girl said."Yes," Julian added. "Normally after and incident like this its a good idea for you to remain diapered for at least a few days incase... you know..."Alex rolled his eyes. "FINE! But let me get out of this dress. You have any other clothes?"Joshua held up the box. "Oh you have got to be kidding me."Alex, now dressed from head to to toe in play armor, with a diaper serving as his only protection beneath and his top being a purple hooded teddy bear sweater, stomped through town back to his camp to change."Stupid weakness!" he muttered. "It could have been some stone or the color yellow or fried chicken, but noooo it has to be stupid Reverse Plot Armor. This is all so ridiculous. I could have taken any one of those guys at the bar... no, ALL of them AT ONCE, if it weren't for..." he was cut off by people laughing. "HEY! You keep quiet or I swear I'll beat you with just this foam rattle!" He shouted, pointing the toy at them. "You want to be the guys who lost a fight to a guy in a diaper?" He hit a barrel with the sword and the barrel shattered. The others became afraid and ran away. Alex went back to walking and muttering. He left the town and ended up in a forest, where he began angrily casting the toy armor into the forest."Stupid fake armor. As if THAT was their mistake. Like that's a normal thing to confuse. Wouldn't happen to anyone else, I swear..." he stopped and jolted as he ran into someone's back while pulling his sweater off. The person, slightly shorter then Alex, fell to the ground. "Hey!" Alex said. "Don't you know that little people like you need to pay attention to bigger people like me? I... wait, that was a weird thing to say... oh @#$%..." He stopped as a sudden realization came over him.The person he hit, whom he assumed to be human, turned around. He was crying, and had a wooden soother in his mouth. "Uh ohh..." Alex said.A massive shadow covered him. He turned around to see two giants behind him, both looming over him and glaring. He looked back at the person he hit. A giant's baby, crying. He then looked at himself, the same size as the giant's baby, wearing only a diaper, and who had just hurt their son. He looked up at the giants, who glared at him. "Oh for heck's sake!" Alex said as he was hoisted into the air.

Below is an except from my latest Amazon/Kindle book Her 2nd Birthday...again (part one: the calm before the storm). This is going to be a three part story, with part two being worked on as we speak. If you are interested in purchasing this book or reading it on Kindle, here is the link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07LDBHRHF If you are interested in checking out my author page on Amazon, follow this link: amazon.com/author/thatdaddyfellow _______________________________________________________________________________ The 7 AM sun started to peek through the curtains in Kayla’s room. Once it got past the window, it shined brightly against the white bars of her adult sized crib. From there, it would have hit her eyelids and forced her awake, but she was already wide awake. Today was Kayla’s second birthday and she had no intention of missing anything. Well, technically it was her 21st birthday, but not today. Her and her mommy were planning on celebrating her adult birthday next weekend so they could spend today having an amazing birthday party for her and all of her little friends. “Happy birthday to me!” Kayla belted it, not caring what time it was. She wasn’t able to tell anyway, with a lack of clock in her nursery, she just saw sunlight and that meant it was time to wake up. “Happy birthday to me” she repeated, hopping up and down on the crib mattress. “Happy birthday dear Kayla” sang Kayla, warm in her pink footed sleeper mommy decided to put her in last night. “Happy birthday to me!” she ended to song, screaming the last verse. Once she was done, she grabbed the pacifier that was bouncing from the sleeper’s collar and popped it in her mouth. It was her favorite binky because it had a cartoon monkey on the shield. She loved it since mommy liked to call her mommy’s little monkey. Sarah was sleeping peacefully before she heard the concert going on in the nursery through the baby monitor. She was startled away, thinking something was wrong. Once she heard the birthday song blaring through the monitor, she calmed down and even let a laugh escape. She knew today was going to be a fun day. Once she looked at her clock and saw the early hour, she also figured it would be a long day. Figuring her little girl could handle another minute alone, the 25 year old threw a robe on and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. If she was going to be up this early, coffee was going to be a necessity. Once she got to the kitchen, she was glad that she set an alarm on the coffee maker as the smell was heavenly. Sarah poured herself a cup and just savored the first sip. This was probably going to be the least chaotic part of her day, but she was ok with that. She wanted Kayla to have the best birthday a girl could ask for. After she took another sip, she figured it was time to go greet her baby girl, heading to the fridge first to grab a bottle filled with chocolate milk: Kayla’s favorite. The excited birthday girl continued to hop up and down in her crib. “Mommy, where are you?” she asked, knowing mommy could hear her through the monitor sitting on her changing table. Her question was answered almost immediately as the door began to open. Once she saw Sarah’s beautiful face, her smile grew ten times the size it was. Kayla stuck her arms out like she was trying to hug her across the room. “Mommy!” was all she could get out. “Good morning, my beautiful birthday girl” Sarah cooed back, using her most syrupy voice. Her little one loved baby talk, so she was going to be using it all day. Setting the full bottle on the changing table next to the baby monitor, she made her way to the crib.”Look at you baby girl, mommy’s little two year old” Sarah continued to use her “mommy voice” as she tickled Kayla’s tummy. The baby talk being sent in Kayla’s direction was doing a great job of breaking down whatever adult barriers were in place. She planned on letting go of any adult thoughts early on so she could spend her birthday in total little space. “I wuv ou mommy” she said, mixed with a giggle, as she hugged Sarah over the crib bars. “Mommy loves you to sweetheart. Now, before we go get some nummies, mommy needs to check your Pamper.” Grabbing the zipper at the neck of the sleeper, she unzipped it down her little one’s chest and the inside of her left leg, exposing Kayla’s thick nighttime diaper. Ever since she could remember, Kayla had been a bedwetter. As a kid, it was the most embarrassing thing ever. Sleepovers were completely off the table. As she made her way into her teen years, the issue did not go away and she figured this was something she was just going to have to live with. After researching what she could do to stop the bedwetting, she came across an ABDL forum and the rest was history. While Kayla did hate that she was a bedwetter, waking up in a wet diaper was a great way to get into little space. That was the case today. “A certain little monkey soaked her dipey last night” Sarah responded as she squeezed the swollen padding between her little one’s legs. “Such a good girl. Mommy is so happy that her little girl made lots of pee pees last night” she said, trying to reassure Kayla. While she knew the ABDL girl had mostly accepted this side of herself, a little positive reinforcement never hurt. “Big pee pees mama” the girl trapped in the crib giggled around the shield of her pacifier. “Very big pee pees” Sarah reassured her little with another pat to her bulky padding. “Now, how about we get your pee butt changed and into a clean Pamper?” While it was phrased like a question, Kayla had no choice. “Sit back so I can put down the side of your crib.” The diaper clad girl immediately flopped back on her butt, feeling her diaper squish underneath her. She didn’t mind being in a wet diaper for while. The squishy padding actually felt pretty good. A messy diaper, however, was a different story. As her mind wandered, she didn’t even notice that mommy had dropped the crib side and was inviting her little one to make her way to the adult sized changing table. “Sweetheart? Paging Kayla…” Sarah tried to get her baby girl’s attention. When that didn’t seem to be working, the women in the pink robe planted a kiss on Kayla’s cheek. When she felt the soft lips of mommy on her cheek, Kayla snapped out of her daydream and gave her girlfriend a kiss right back. “There you are baby, I thought I had lost you” she joked. “I’m gonna take off your sleeper so it doesn’t get in the way during your dipey change” as Sarah was telling her little one the plan, she had already gotten the pink garment off of her slim frame. With Kayla’s small 5”1’ frame, she often looked younger than she really was. Right now, with the pacifier her mommy unhooked from the sleeper in her mouth and the swollen diaper drooping between her legs, that was more true than ever before. “You are just the prettiest baby girl a mommy could possibly ask for” Sarah told the little girl in front of her. She could not mean that statement more if she tried. They have been best friends ever since elementary school. They went to the same high school, they roomed together in college. They even were roommates in the first apartment after college. Sarah still remembered the day Kayla revealed this side of herself: Kayla was shaking like a leaf all day. Once she was finally able to sit down and have a conversation with her best friend, it was like he words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. After plenty of phrases like “your gonna think I’m weird” and “You know, it’s not even a big deal”, Sarah was finally able to coax it out of her. “Well…” was all the Kayla could muster at first. After a couple of deep breathes, she was able to let a little bit more out. “Sarah...I like to...in my spare time...act younger than I am” was the only way she could phrase it. “That’s what you were worried about? That is no big deal at all. Everyone acts younger than they are” Sarah joked, not sure why that was so hard for her friend. “No…” Kayla stumbled, knowing she didn’t phrase it right “I mean...much younger...like a…” She took a deep breath and exhaled. She felt like she was Bruce Wayne about to tell the world she was Batman. “A baby” the words left Kayla’s mouth and she felt like she was going to have a heart attack. All she could do was wait for Sarah’s response. “Oh ok” she responded, confused but not wanting to show it and hurt Kayla’s feeling. “What do you mean exactly?” Oh god, she wanted specifics? “Well, I like to do things that a baby would do. Play with baby toys...drink from a bottle...use a pacifier. You know, stuff like that” she told her, surely, confused friend. She made sure to leave out the biggest piece unless absolutely necessary. Imagining Kayla drinking from a bottle produced a smile on Sarah’s face. “Oh, I understand. So, instead of hanging out with old friends or watching some TV shows from your childhood, you just substitute that with a bottle and a pacifier?” Sarah was starting to understand. “Exactly. Before we get any further, I want to make one thing perfectly clear: this has nothing to do with actual children. I want to BE a child, not be with a child. Most people immediately think of us as pedophiles and that couldn’t be further from the truth.” Kayla needed that to be known. OK, that was going to be my next question. I’m really relieved to hear that. So, you said you like to act like a baby. Does that also involve wearing diapers?” Sarah asked bluntly. The word “diaper” hit Kayla’s ears like a sonic boom. Her already blushing face grew another shade of red as she slowly nodded. “Um...yeah…” was all she could muster. “Do you...use...them?” her friend asked, wanting to get as much information as possible. “Only number one” Kayla responded. She couldn’t believe she was spilling her guts on the subject she kept most private. After the diaper conversation started, it felt like things went smoothly through the rest of the talk. Sarah actually become interested in this lifestyle and wanted to learn as much as she could from her best friend. They talked for the rest of the day about bottles, diapers, and caregivers. The conversation had taken their friendship to another level. “Let’s get that droopy tushy of yours up on the changing table” Sarah cooed, knocking Kayla back to reality, as she tapped the plastic covering on the pad of the changing table. Her heart could have melted as she saw her little girl waddling towards her, a massive smile visible behind the shield of her pacifier.

“Sweetheart, I think it’s time for a bottle” Jessica cooed at the diaper clad boy on the floor. Watching her little one playing was always so adorable to her. While she wished she could just let him continue driving around with Hot Wheels, it had been a while since he had something to drink. If she let her baby get dehydrated, what kind of mommy would she be? “But mommy, I don’t wanna stop playing” Logan replied, looking back at his mommy with puppy dogs eyes in full effect. He knew those rarely worked, but he had to try. He was having so much fun and didn’t want to stop to drink a stupid bottle. “Don’t worry baby, once you are done with your bottle, you can come right back and play some more” she reassured him with the syrupy tone that mommies were known for. While Jessica was not going to take no for an answer, she didn’t want to be mean about it. Among her clients, she was known as the super nice mommy and didn’t want that to change. “Ok” Logan dropped his head as he responded, defeated. “Like I said baby boy, you can come back and play in a little bit. Mommy just wants to make sure you are staying healthy” she said as she walked over to him and ran her red fingernails through his blonde hair. “Time will fly by” she added as she took Logan’s hand and helped him to his feet. Once the 19 year old was on his feet, he went on auto pilot and began walking towards the nursery door. The thick diaper between his legs slowed him a little as the padding interfered with his gait. Every time he paid to see his favorite mommy, however, he knew that diapers were non negotiable. He wanted to try training pants once, but a spanking changed his mind pretty quickly. Mommy Jessica wouldn’t even let him wear a thin diaper. It was an ABDL diaper with a stuffer at the minimum. He was currently sporting an ABU Space diaper with 2 stuffers and it gave Logan a noticeable waddle. “Were you having fun playing Hot Wheels sweetie?” she asked, wanting to take his mind off the bottle he didn’t want. “Yeah” Logan answered, perking up to tell her all about his adventures. “I took the car with the flames on the side and drove it into the jungle. Once he made it to the jungle, he met up with the yellow car. The guy in the yellow car had magic and made both the cars fly…” he told her a tale that lasted 5 more minutes of flying, fiery crashes, and death defying jumps. While her little one was giving her a run down of his adventures in the nursery, Jessica had walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge. Once the made it to the couch in the living room, Logan’s story was winding down. “Wow, that sounds awesome buddy” she cooed at him “you have quite the imagination” she punctuated the statement with a kiss on his cheek and a tickle on his bare tummy. Logan had a very ticklish stomach. He continued to laugh as mommy laid him on her lap and placed the bottle in his mouth. Once the nipple touched his tongue, he began to steadily nurse. While he normally did fight his mommy when it came to bottle feedings, he did love the closeness that came with it. Plus, any time in mommy’s arms was time well spent in his book. Once the bottle was half empty, Jessica gave the diapered boy in her arms a couple pats on his padded tushy. “You are being such a good boy by drinking your bottle honey” she whispered into his ear with the tone that brought most to their knees. She also had a huge smile on her face because she knew what was going to follow this specific bottle feeding. Logan’s cheeks turned bright red after his mommy whispered into his ear. While he was definitely an ABDL, he never really liked being a baby. He normally played at around 4 or 5, but still wore diapers. When he spent time with Jessica, however, she had a way of bringing out his littlest tendencies. Bottles were used in place of sippy cups. He was always fed in a highchair. Rattles and baby blocks were left for him to play with. If everything wasn’t sized up for an adult, you would think a 1 year old lived her. As the last drop of milk hit Logan’s tongue, a sly smile crossed Jessica’s lips. “Good baby! You drank your baba all dry” she cooed at him as she kissed him on the top of head followed up by some tummy tickles. Once her little one was all tickled out, she told him “Since you were a good boy and drank all your bottle, mommy has a secret to tell you.” Seeing the mix of confusion and excitement on Logan’s face, she revealed the secret. “Mommy put something special in your bottle little one. Something that will help you go poopy” Jessica didn’t break her smile while telling Logan. Logan’s emotion went from excitement to nervous in a matter of seconds. Logan had never messed his diaper before. He never really had any interest in it before and, plus, the cleanup would be a nightmare. He did, however, feel safe with mommy and knew she knew best. She would never do anything that would hurt him or make him do anything that would break him out of his little space. “I have never went poopy in my diaper before mommy” he said, apprehensively. “I know that sweetheart, but I think now is a good time. You would rather make a stinky with mommy here to clean it up then on your own, right buddy?” she asked him as she patted his padded tushy. Logan figured that there was some logic in that. While he wasn’t looking forward to the mess he was about to make, mommy was. He wanted to make mommy happy as much as she wanted to make him happy. Plus, mommy cleaning him up afterwards would be better then having to do all the clean up by himself. “Ok mommy” he said, smiling up at her. “Yay, I’m so happy! The medicine will not take effect for another hour or so. Mommy will go grab your cars and you can play in the living room until you need to use your dipey” she said as she moved him from her lap to the floor. After giving him a kiss on the top of his head, Jessica headed back up to the nursery to grab his toys. Not a minute later, she returned to the living room with his arms filled with toy cars, baby blocks, and a rattle. Jessica wanted to give her little one some choices. Once all the toys were laid out in front of the diaper clad boy, “Now, when you feel like you have to go poopy, I want you to tell me” she gave him a smile as she gave her demand. Once Logan saw her walk into the kitchen, he got right back to where he left off before his feeding. He found the black cars with flames on the side: his favorite. “Alright Curtis, it’s time to fly” he told the car with a smile as he lifted it up into the air. He brought the car back down, only to use the rattle on the floor as a jump to propel him into the air again. “Good job Curt, hit those stupid baby toys” he told the pilot, a smirk on his face. Logan named the pilot of his car/plane Curtis because of his big brother. He has always looked up to him, both literally and figuratively. His 25 year old brother was a pilot in the Air Force and Logan loved to talk about him to anyone who would listen. As Jessica was washing the dishes, she heard what sounded like laser noises. Sticking her head out just far enough, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight. As her little one was pretending to make his toy car fly, he was crawling around the floor. All she could see was a tiny car and the fluffy white diaper taped around his waist. Seeing the little ones she cared for wearing diapers made her heart flutter. Nothing in the whole world was cuter than that. After a half hour of blowing up enemy ships, doing jumps, and just having fun flying, Logan felt a pressure on his bladder. He was just glad it wasn’t his tummy...yet. Just as he felt his full bladder beg for release, he obliged as he soaked the padding between his legs. As the diaper began to swell, the little boy looked down at the diaper changing from white to a yellow hue. As an ABDL, watching his diaper change colors just help him sink further into little space. As his bladder finally emptied, he could feel his diaper had swollen quite a bit. Logan ran his fingers over the plastic backing of the infantile underwear and smiled. Jessica snuck up behind the little boy just as he removed his hands. “Is everything ok baby? Mommy saw you stop playing and…” she stopped mid sentence when she saw the blush on his face mixed with the wetness showing through the front of his diaper. “Oh, mommy knows why you stopped. Someone made pee pees in his dipey” she cooed at him as she gave his soggy crotch a squeeze. “There is no need to be embarrassed baby. Mommy knows you like going potty in your dipey. Mommy thinks you are super cute in your saggy diapers too” she continued the syrupy voice as she ran her fingers up and down the warm padding. Logan was feeling a mixture of humiliation and arousal. The way that Jessica’s fingernails moved from his soggy padding to the soft skin on his inner thigh made him want to scream! “Mommy, can you change me please?” Logan asked, hoping to make an excuse to get her touching him a little more. “No sweetheart. You are gonna be making stinkies pretty soon and I don’t want to waste a clean diaper. Besides, It looks like a certain baby boy likes his wet diaper” Jessica responded to his question as she continued to rub the front of his padding. While she did like making her little one feel good, she had a rule of no sexual stuff under any circumstances. She slowly removed her hand from the soggy padding and gave him a kiss on the top of his head. “Mommy is gonna do some more cleaning in the kitchen. Remember to come and get me when you are ready to go poopy” she cooed as she tickled his tummy and walked back into the kitchen. The next 45 minutes flew by for Logan. He went from flying cars to spelling words with the baby blocks. When mommy wasn’t looking, he even spelled some words that she would definitely not allow out of his mouth. Towards the end, he even picked up the rattle and shook it in front his face, although he found almost no excitement from it. As the noise of the rattle echoed throughout the living room, he felt his tummy rumble. Almost immediately after that, he knew that he didn’t have much time until he made a mess in his padding. “Mommy, I’m gotta go poopy” Logan whined as he grabbed his stomach. “I’m coming baby” Jessica said as she put down the rag she was using to clean the cupboards and hustled to the living room. When she saw the little boy holding onto his tummy, the women he called mommy knew that he was very close. “Stand up baby, mommy wants to get a good view of your tushy as you make a stinky” she said as she stood up the boy and turned him towards the TV. As soon as Logan faced the TV, he could feel himself losing the battle and all he could do was pop his thumb in his mouth to ease the embarrassment. He felt his body betray him and it felt disgusting. The mushy mess piled up in the bottom of his diaper, causing it to start sagging. All he could hear was a mixture of farts and mommy cooing at him. All Logan wanted to do was to disappear, but he just nursed his thumb. After what felt like an hour, he had finally stopped. Thank god. “Oh my, someone really had to go poopy” Jessica said as she ran her hands over the bulging diaper taped around Logan’s waist. “Mommy is so proud of you baby. I know you don’t like making stinky in your diaper, but you did it anyway. For me. Mommy loves you.” For the next five minutes, she ran her fingers over the messy padding, patting and squeezing just to let Logan get the full experience. “Can you change me please mommy?” Logan asked, wanting nothing more then to get out of his own mess. Instead of answering his question, Jessica just gently grabbed his hips and lowered his messy bottom onto her lap. “Mommy wants cuddle time baby boy” she said as she resumed patting the full diaper on her baby. She wanted him to get used to being in a messy diaper. From now on, he was going to have to make at least one while he visited her. Logan winced when the mess spread around in his diaper. The feeling, however, was eased a little when he felt mommy cuddling him. If he got to lay with her after he made a stinky diaper, maybe they weren’t so bad after all... The End

Repost. THE MAN IN THE GRAY SUIT by Cute Kitten “Ro? You promise?" The hospital pillow was flat and lumpy, almost as uncomfortable as the mattress. Ryo missed his own bed that cradled and supported him just right. He also missed the familiar, soothing surroundings of his home. Most of all, he missed Ro. Her smile. Her carefree laughter. Her sarcasm. He hadn’t seen her smile since the accident. He never realized how much he depended on her until his world was turned upside down. She was his rock; his strength. She had always been, ever since they were best friends as children. Being with her always felt so natural; like their destiny was with each other. Their love written in the stars. Romeo and Juliet without all the drama and death. Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Mark Antony and Cleopatra. Tristan and Isolde. Ryo and Ro. They were an odd couple despite how easy and natural being with each other was. Ryo was the pretty one. The effeminate one of the couple. He’d worn the white dress when they got married on a beach at sunset, the warm waves lapping at their ankles. He was clearly male but mixed with a haunting feminine beauty that made him a favorite of the modeling agency and its clients. Part of that beauty came from his Japanese heritage. Ro was his opposite. She was no beauty queen, but she cleaned up nice when she bothered to care about her appearance. As long as he’d known her, she’d been a total tomboy who hated dresses as much as she loved the ocean. Night and day; so different but they completed each other. Even paradise had its problems; disagreements and differences of opinions. Each had different priorities. Hers was money. His was her life. Ro didn’t answer. Her head was bent over his hairless, freshly diapered crotch. She was taking much too long with this diaper change, dragging it out and avoiding eye contact. Her gaze focused on the front panel of his diaper as she pressed down on the tapes. She ran her fingers over the smooth, thick plastic to make sure it was fastened tight. Ryo stared at her, but her face was carefully blank. Her mouth was in a straight line, her eyes blank. Neutral. Guarded. Trying to hide her emotions and thoughts by acting like she hadn’t heard him. Her silence spoke volumes. Ro diapering him was nothing new; she’d been changing his diapers since their relationship turned serious when they were eighteen. They were twenty three now; Ro was several months older than him. She’d changed his diapers throughout their dating, engagement, and now their marriage. He’d always had bladder problems; he’d never been out of diapers at night and he wore pullups during the day in case of not uncommon accidents. They’d been childhood best friends; Ro knew all his secrets and loved him anyway. He loved her, too. Trusted her. He thought he knew all her secrets. Looking at her now, doubt wriggled in his stomach. She was hiding something from him. “Aurora?” He prodded into the widening chasm of silence between them. Ro ducked her head, hiding her face. Her fingers slid down the slick plastic, lightly pressing on the thin padding. A faint crinkling filled the quiet, small room Her fingers found the leg gathers. She poked and prodded, making sure his diaper was on just right. She was too focused on her task, fingers moving too slow. Deliberate, with too much concentration. Before the accident, diaper changes had been moments of intimacy between them. Ryo could handle his own diapers, and often did. He always felt so vulnerable when she changed him, giving her control over this most intimate aspect of his life. He also felt so loved, accepted, and protected. Cherished. Precious. This was her way of showing him how much she loved him. Even now, as she tried to hide something from him, she still tried to stay close to him. She tried to reassure him by changing his diaper. To show without words how much she loved him. I love you, but I don't want you to know about this. During a normal diaper change, as she wiped, powdered and diapered him, she would look at him. Smile. Make silly faces or blow a raspberry on his stomach. He’d roll his eyes at the juvenile teasing she’d never grown out of, then he’d stick his tongue out or try to tickle her back. Now, she avoided his gaze and acted like this was the first time she’d ever changed his diaper. Ryo glanced at the balled up, wet medical diaper. It was at the bottom of the bed, by his right ankle. The left side of the mattress, where his lower leg and foot should have been, was empty. He winced, quickly shutting his eyes. Aurora handled his missing limb better than he did. It had been weeks since the accident, and the sight of his stump still churned his stomach. Mere weeks since the last time he’d surfed. Since his near fatal encounter with a great white. Surfing was in his blood; his mother and grandfather were avid surfers. Ryo had grown up surfing; he’d even placed first in a few local competitions. His grandfather owned a surfing shop where he made custom boards. Ryo often helped him. Surfing was Ryo’s hobby, but most of his money came from modeling contracts. All surfers knew the danger lurking below the waves. They knew the risk getting into the ocean. He’d seen scars of shark bites on some avid surfers. He’d seen boards with huge, jagged bites. He realized the danger in the rational part of his brain, but a small part of him had insisted it would never happen to him. That insular bubble of ignorance had been popped by serrated shark teeth. Now, his life was like his missing leg; crushed and shredded. He didn’t know where to start picking up the pieces. The only thing he did know deep down in his bones was he had to protect Ro from making the same mistake he did. Ro had grown up diving. Her mother ran a diving school and her father worked for the local zoo and aquarium, cleaning and maintaining the huge, deep tanks. He was a retired abalone diver. Ro helped her mother run the school in the off seasons of abalone hunting. It was too lucrative to pass up. She could make a hundred thousand dollars in under fifty days. Those mollusk delicacies were so expensive partly due to the dangers involved in harvesting them. Abalone season coincided with great white breeding season. The father of Ryo and Ro’s friend Sheila had been an abalone diver who’d been killed by a great white. Ryo had lost his leg to a great white. His leg, his surfing, his modeling. Life as he knew it was changed. He couldn’t lose his heart, too. His Aurora. “I don’t like these hospital diapers. They’re too thin. Fourth leak already. You need better protection. Your bottom’s a little red, too. I think you’re getting a diaper rash. The nurses aren’t changing you enough. I’ll have a word with them when I leave.” Ro ran out of reasons to keep fussing with his diaper. He felt her tug down his thin hospital gown from where it was bunched up by his armpits. The gown hid his diaper; the hem brushed the knee of his right leg and the bandaged stump of his left. She covered his lower half with a scratchy, puke-green blanket. “It’s not so bad. They only leak if I’m not changed on time. The one nurse’s aide is always late. The blue haired girl with the nose ring.” Ryo managed to catch her gaze for a second before her eyes skittered away. “I need to throw this out.” Ro mumbled and hastily snatched up the used diaper that was squishy and cold with his pee. She carried it to the red biohazard bin. He frowned at her back. He wriggled his hips, adjusting his position on the mattress. His diaper crinkled loudly in response. His night diapers at home were just as noisy, but they were thicker. He felt more secure with more padding. He’d also feel more secure if Ro would just promise him… Sharp pain shot through his stump, cutting off his train of thought. He gasped. In that lightning strike of pain, he almost felt his missing leg and foot. Phantom sensations from raw, damaged nerves. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands fisting in the blanket. He was never going to get used to this. Not even his diapers could comfort him. His bedwetting and frequent accidents when he couldn’t get to a toilet fast enough were sources of shame. Diapers had always comforted him; made him feel safe, secure and protected. They boosted his confidence. He did lose some modeling gigs due to his incontinence issues. Pullups and diapers kept his pants and bedding dry. Pullups were quiet and discreet, even if they leaked sooner than a thick, thirsty diaper. At his quiet gasp, Ro instantly whirled and rushed to his bedside. She held one of his hands while her other hand touched his forehead. “What hurts? Where? Baby, do you want me to get a nurse?” She gingerly squeezed his slender fingers. Her concern poured over him in waves, reassuring him she still cared despite trying to ignore him. Ignore the important question he’d asked her. The promise he wanted her to make. She was here today, but he wanted her here always. Not callously throwing her life away for money. His stump still throbbed, waves of discomfort sloshing over his body. He felt tired, drained. As if the diaper change and one little movement sapped all his strength. The diaper change hadn’t been so bad; Ro had done all the work. The nurses had taught her the techniques to change him without jostling his injured limb. He could get through a diaper change with minimal problems since someone else did the lifting and moving while he stayed relatively still. When he moved the muscles on his injured leg, it felt like setting off fireworks if he moved too quick, too careless. Ryo smiled weakly up at Ro. Her fingers ran through his hair just the way he liked. “I’m fine. Just moved too quick. Even with this in-” He held up his hand with the IV line. “It still hurts like a bitch.” “You don’t look so good. I’ll go get a nurse.” Her fingers trailed down the side of his pretty face, brushing over his soft cheek. Her gray eyes probed him, searching for indicators he was down playing the amount of pain he was in. “Don’t. Really. I’m fine. Promise.” At that word, he bit his lip and dropped his eyes as he remembered the wedge between them. The promise Ro refused to make. The pain had shoved his worry and emotional turmoil aside. Now it was back, but this time he had Ro’s attention. “Baby? What hurts?” He closed his eyes and shook his head. He suddenly felt overwhelmed and helpless. He couldn’t protect her. All he could do was beg to stay out of the water and pray she’d listen. He felt her lean closer. Salty ocean tang filled his nostrils; he knew where she’d spent most of her morning. His stomach churned. Thoughts of her being bitten like him made him dizzy. His head swam with images of gray fins, white teeth opened wide and Aurora’s severed limbs floating in bloody water. He wanted to puke. “Tell me. Ryo, what’s wrong?” Ro’s hand cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. Her pleading tone nearly broke him. Nightmares of the shark attack haunted his sleep. Sometimes he was eaten. Sometimes Aurora. The vivid images and emotions bled into his waking hours, filling him with dread. He’d told her about them numerous times, but she just brushed them aside as emotional trauma. Just like the doctors. He still couldn’t shake those feelings, even if his headstrong wife refused to listen. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He stared down at his blanket covered stump. Below his left knee, the blanket lay flat on the mattress. He had to protect Ro, even from herself. She would only continue to ignore and avoid the subject if he tried to talk to her again. He knew she planned to go abalone hunting in shark infested waters, which was why he was so desperate to get her to promise him not to do it. He wanted her to tell him about her plans. She just countered with “No, I’m not thinking about it,” then changed the subject or ignored him. “Ryo. Talk to me, baby.” Her arms, strong and warm, wrapped around him as she leaned further over the bed. “Sheila and Marvin came by this morning. Sheila got a new boat. She named it after her father. Marvin showed me pictures. You were with them. You never told me.” He spoke softly. The pain of Ro’s betrayal filled his voice as a few stray tears trickled down his cheeks. Those quiet words struck Ro like hammer blows. He felt her stiffen as she realized the truth. He knew everything she’d tried to keep hidden from him. Marvin had spilled the beans; Sheila had asked Ro to be her diver for abalone season. Ro hadn’t answered, but she was seriously considering it. Leaning towards yes. She refused to discuss any of it with Ryo. Ryo knew in her mind, the matter was already settled. Not up for discussion. She’d been diving for years; of course she’d do it again. He never objected before because he’d brushed aside the dangers. Now reality had bitten him in the leg and woke him up. He was terrified of Ro getting attacked. She didn’t want to talk about it. Perhaps she was still in denial about it happening to her. Frustrated tears leaked from his eyes and splashed onto her hand. Ro shuddered at the warm wetness. Her lips pressed against his forehead in a sloppy kiss. “Ryo. Baby. Don’t. Shh. Don’t cry. Please.” She hugged him hard. He made no effort to stop his tears as they fell faster. He surrendered to the emotions he’d been fighting since Sheila and Marvin’s visit. His bubble of denial had been brutally popped. The dangers of the deep were real, and they could happen to anyone. A hard life lesson that cost him a leg. He didn’t want it to cost him Ro, too. Didn’t want Ro learning that lesson. They were talking in circles, chasing each other. He couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t know what to do.” A tremor ran down his slim body. He didn’t feel the front of his thin diaper grow wet as he peed. A sob tore his throat. He didn’t want Ro to give up something she loved, something she’d been doing all her life. He just wished she’d dive in safer waters instead of great white ground zero. Where the abalone grew; where the money was. "Shh. It's alright, baby. We'll figure it out. It's okay." Ro's honeyed voice washed over him as she tried to calm him. He tasted the venom of lies in her sugary words. It was not okay. There was nothing to figure out. She was not open to listening to him. Screw him and his feelings, so long as Ro got to do what she wanted to do. Even if it cost them her life. His tears fell like rain, soaking his pillow and her shirt. His slender body shuddered with hard sobs as he broke down. Ro held him, stroking his hair and kissing his wet face, trying to soothe him. The gentle tugging pressure of her fingers in his short hair usually soothed him, but not today. Minutes ticked by on the cock and still he cried. He sobbed until his eyes were red and swollen, nose running, and throat hoarse. Eventually his sobs died down to sniffles and his shaking died down to fine trembles. He clung to Ro like a lifeline, as if he could anchor her here with him. Safe and sound. He pressed his face into her shoulder and she hugged him harder. “Don’t leave me.” He whispered hoarsely. Her neck was warm and wet from his tears. “Ryo? I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m right here.” Her tone was startled. “Please, Ro. I love you. I don’t..I can’t...if I lost you...I...just can’t.” His words tumbled over each other and fell in a jumbled heap from his mouth. “Oh.” Her arms tightened around him in realization of what he meant. He clung to her like a drowning man. Was she finally opening up to listening, or would she simply serve him more denials and platitudes? “Oh, Ryo…” She sighed and trailed off. His heart twisted. “Please, Ro.” Here we go round again. I don't know what else to do. How do I reach you? Please, please. Just listen. “Promise me. Stay out of the water. Just this season. Please. We’ll be okay. You’re more important than the money. Please. Promise me.” He stared up at her, saw the hesitancy in her face. His vision blurred with renewed, tired tears. She's never going to listen. I'm going to lose her. He crumbled, crying again. His head was full of images from his nightmares. Sheila coming to visit him, telling him he’d never see Ro again. Police wanting him to identify his wife’s bitten remains. Maybe this really was just trauma from his own brush with hungry death. Maybe he needed therapy. The irrational fear clung to his heart, denying him rest. Never far from thoughts. He needed to know Ro was safe on land as desperately as he needed air to breathe. “Ryo, no. Don’t…” His sobs drowned out her words. She hugged him hard, rocking him. Running her fingers through his hair again. Pleading with him to stop crying. “Okay. Okay. Shh. Please, Ryo. Calm down. I’ll tell Sheila no if it means that much to you. I promise. No diving. I’ll tell Sheila no. I promise. Just shhh.” She cooed. “Please.” He sniffled Her words soothed the savage beast that was his fear. They still rang hollow in his ears. Drowned by his own desperation. “I promise, Ryo. I promise. Oh, baby. Shh. I promise.” Ro started humming his favorite tune. She continued to run her fingers through his short black hair until he fell asleep.

This story is complete and is available on Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WN7H42M/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i4 WITCH'S BREW by Cute Kitten Joshua poked at the chocolate cereal puffs and marshmallow bats floating in the milk puddle on his highchair tray. His cheeks and chin were wet with milk; a couple of mushy bats stuck to his face. His plastic bib was as messy as his tray. He wore most of his food instead of eating it, despite his efforts to the contrary. He poked at another cereal puff, trying to pinch it between his fingers. The soggy cereal smooshed under his uncooperative fingers. He puffed his cheeks out in frustration, staring down at his hands and the delicate, silvery webbing of scars on his porcelain skin. His skin was so pale the scars were barely visible. He turned his wrist and the spidery, thin lines shimmered with a pearly sheen. Normal scars were varying shades of pink, red, and white. Not pearl and silver and covering nearly his entire body. The odd scars were souvenirs from a necromantic witch who had slowly burned and destroyed his nerves. He'd been very close to death. Aunt Gertrude saved him just in time. She even brewed him a potion distilled from the Font of Youth, to regrow and restore his injured body. Recovery was not magically instantaneous; his body was like that of a baby, and he had to relearn all over again. Hence his infantile lack of fine motor skills and barely controlled gross motor skills. And Auntie Gertrude raising him like he was an oversized baby. Physically, he was a baby. He couldn't even manage to feed himself yet. Josh puffed his cheeks out and smacked one hand into the milk puddle on his tray. His fingers accidentally hit the rim of the bowl; milk and cereal arched through the air and splattered onto the floor. He froze, eyes going wide as he realized just how big his mess was. He was in so much trouble; Aunt Gertrude would be furious. He wasn't supposed to feed himself; he wasn't ready for that yet. Aunt Gertrude had told his big half-sister Tabitha to feed him, but Tabi had snuck down into Aunt Gertrude's liquor cellar. So Josh had taken the opportunity to prove he was a big boy who could feed himself. He'd failed. Claws clicked on the tiled floor then a snuffling noise near the high chair legs. Josh looked down to see a monstrous, fluffy black dog-like creature lapping up the milk and cereal. Pandora, Aunt Gertrude's familiar. Even at peace, Dora was terrifying. She was slightly larger than a Great Dane, bulky, and fluffier than a Tibetan Mastiff. Her cat-like claws and teeth were made for ripping into the flesh of her prey. She was a barghest, a hellhound; a beast who could only be controlled by a powerful witch. Her massive pink tongue swept out, licking up the last of the spilled breakfast. Dora raised her massive head and started licking the highchair tray. Josh giggled in relief, patting the thick black fur with his clean hand. Orange ribbon was tied in a bow by each ear, making her look pretty for Halloween. Plastic bowl and rubber coated baby spoon clattered to the floor as Dora pushed them out of her way. Finished with the tray, she moved on to Josh's milk-sticky hand then his face. Joshua giggled some more, squirming helplessly as her rough tongue tickled his baby soft, delicate skin. He kicked his feet, his soggy diaper crinkling audibly. A wave of warmth engulfed his crotch as he wet himself but he barely paid any attention. He was too busy being tickle-attacked by Dora's monstrous tongue. "Pipe down. You're gonna attract the old bat with all that racket." Tabitha crept silently out of the basement. She scowled at her little half-brother. They had the same father but different witch mothers. Just looking at him annoyed her. He was so damn pretty; a soft, lovely, delicate baby doll she often just wanted to smash. She felt like an ungainly sow in comparison. "S-sowwy." Josh gasped out in a toddler lisp. His lungs ached from laughing. Pandora sat on her haunches, licking the milk and marshmallows off her muzzle. "Doggy tickles." Shaggy, pale blonde bangs fell into his big green eyes as he ducked his head, looking down at his tray that smelled of doggy slobber. He poked at the mess on his bib. He hated making his big sister mad; it reminded him too much of all the times his mother had been upset with him. "Whatever. Just don't start blubbering." Tabitha snorted, tossing her frizzy dark brown ringlets over her shoulder. She didn't even glance at his tray or bowl on the floor; she turned and went straight to the kitchen cabinet above the sink to fetch a glass. She held up the pilfered bottle to the autumn morning sun streaming through the window. The light caught the pale amber liquid, making it sparkle and shimmer. The bottle should have been brown; instead it was clear to show off the liquor. A homemade label decorated with drawings of pumpkins covered in spider webs. She read the squiggly handwriting. "Spider Cider." She snorted. "Cute. How appropriate for Auntie's Halloween party." She sat the bottle down and turned to Joshua, who still sat quietly in his highchair. "You know, I'm 21. I'm finally old enough to go to the Samhain Feast. Become a full-fledged coven member. Instead, my Halloween is stuck here changing your diapers and handing out candy to filthy brats." "Sowwy." Josh whispered softly, not daring to look up at her. Instead he looked around for his binky. He didn't see it, so he slipped his thumb in his mouth instead and started to suck. Pandora's wet nose bumped into his bare calf and he smiled a little at the ticklish sensation. The barghest stood in front of the highchair and just stared Tabitha down. She didn't growl or bare her teeth; she just stared at the girl. "Dowa, dat not nice." Josh lisped at the barghest. That dead stare trapped her like a cornered rabbit. It was the look of a dog that was considering attacking. Pandora often gave Tabitha that look. She found it almost as annoying as Aunt Gertrude's reprimands. Pandora never attacked her yet, but often looked at her like the damn mutt was thinking about it. Tabi tried to give the familiar a wide berth; all it took was one time, one incident. A barghest attack was hard to survive, and with her sealed magic it was almost impossible. "I'm not scared of you." Defiance laced her tone. Her limbs were stiff and her knees shook. "Anyway, since this Halloween's gonna suck, I might as well have some fun while I can. The least Auntie can do is spare me one lousy bottle of her brew." She slowly, intentionally turned her back on the beast and tried to open the bottle. Her hands trembled and she waited with baited breath to hear a growl in her ear, pain erupt as teeth sank into her shoulder. When no attack came, she let out her breath, hitched on a smirk and slowly, cautiously turned around. "Hey, baby pants, you want a sip?" She waved the bottle, amber liquid sloshing around. "No, he doesn't. You aren't having one, either." A calm, firm voice filled the kitchen.

After much internal debate, I have decided to starting posting this story that I, originally, wanted to be a Patreon exclusive. While I am only posting the first chapter now, if you are interested in reading ahead before I post them here, join the $10 tier of my Patreon. I am done with multiple chapters already and more are coming constantly. Without further ado, here is Day at the Beach ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Towels?” Amy called out, going through the checklist in her head “Check” Justin called out, putting the 2 large beach towels in the bag. “And finally, sunscreen?” Amy made sure to ask for the most important item last. “And...check” he searched the room for a second and eyed the spray, tossing it in the bag. “Looks like we have everything we need to have tons of fun at the beach. All we need to do is get into our swimsuits. Can you wait here while I get mine on?” Amy asked, knowing that he will listen to anything she says. “Yup” Justin replied. “Excuse me?” was all the response that she needed to get his attention. “Sorry. Yes...mommy” he replied sheepishly, looking down at the ground. “That’s better baby boy” she replied with a smirk as she headed back to their bedroom to get changed. It had been a year since Amy and Justin have turned their relationship into a MD/LB relationship with AB/DL mixed in. Not that this is the first time they had been kinky. They had been heavy into the Dom/Sub scene ever since they met. However, one day, Justin brought up the idea of a lighter side of their dynamic and told her about MD/LB. Instead of rejecting the idea, she was interested in starting it almost immediately and they have been a happy mommy and baby boy ever since. No matter how many times he had to call his girlfriend mommy, it would make him blush every single time. However, he was fine with that. The humiliation was one of the things that turned him on about this dynamic. Men, in general, are supposed to be the lead in the relationship and having to take a back seat to his partner was both erotic and embarrassing at the same time. A big plus in their relationship is that they are not exclusively in this dynamic. They go out dinner as a couple, go to movies, argue about bills, and all the normal stuff couples do. Justin thought that he would have gotten burnt out if he was forced to be mommy’s little boy all the time. 5 minutes later, Amy emerged from the bedroom and nearly made Justin’s jaw drop. Her beautiful blonde hair fell down her shoulder blades and drove all the boys wild. The bottom of her hair landed on the back of her black bikini top which did not leave much to the imagination. Neither did the cutoff jean shorts she looked like she was poured into. Completing the outfit was a pair of yellow sandals that showed off her beautiful feet, complete with yellow toenails to match. “Wow mommy, you look sexy as hell” her little boy said, which kinda seemed a little odd coming out of his mouth. Normally the compliments he gave her were “pretty” or “adorable”, but never sexy. “Thanks sweetie. Now it’s time to get you ready. Let’s go” she announced as she took his hand and guided him into the bedroom. Once they were both in and the door was shut, she wasted no time with taking his shirt off, leaving his hairless chest bare. Even though he was 22, she had decided that he was going to be hairless from head to toe. It was one of the things that she made sure he kept up with in their relationship. Justin, on the other hand, was embarrassed by his lack of body hair. Whenever he would wear shorts, he would get looks from other guys. Having no chest hair is no big deal, but no leg hair made him a little self conscious. Noticing that look in her baby boy’s eyes, she ran her hands up and down his soft body. “Such a smooth baby boy. Mommy loves it when her baby follows her directions” she whispered in his ear as continued to rub her hands all over him. “Now, let’s get those pants and big boy underwear off.” All he could do was stand still as the women he called mommy unbuttoned his shorts and slid them down his legs, making sure to grab his black boxers as well. While he stood in front of Amy, he was so embarrassed he just wanted to melt into the floor. He knew what was coming next. “Can you be mommy’s helper and go get your supplies?” Amy cooed at him, knowing full well he knew what she expected from him. Walking as slowly as possible by shuffling his feet, Justin walked to the closet to get the supplies. Reaching to the top shelf, he grabbed the baby powder as well as a PeekABU diaper with a stuffer inside. Those were mommy’s favorite diapers to see on him and, honestly, he thought they were pretty cute too. Once he brought the items back to her, Amy helped guide her little boy’s bottom onto the extra towel she placed on the floor as a makeshift changing table. “Let’s get you all padded and comfy” she cooed like a mother talking to her toddler. Making sure to use a liberal amount of baby powder, she slowly taped the thick diaper onto her baby. “Oh my goodness, you just look adorable! Yes you do!” Amy used her sappy tone that she knew turned Justin into jelly. “Now, why don’t you go pack your baby bag and go get some clothes to wear to beach...unless you just wanna wear your cute little diaper” she concluded with a smack to his padded butt. As if on auto-pilot, he made his way to the Winnie the Pooh backpack he used as his makeshift diaper bag. On his way there, he noticed that his walk had turned into more of a waddle as the diaper combined with the stuffer was thicker than he was used to. He made quick work on pack a couple extra diapers as well as the powder and wipes into the bag. Justin double checked his bag to made sure he had everything and added two extra diapers just to be safe. If he didn’t have enough diapers, Amy would make him stay in the last diaper until he got home. His mind went back to a car ride 2 months ago when he had to sit in a full diaper for 2 hours because he thought he had enough padding to last the whole trip. Nope, no way that was going to happen again. Once his bag was packed to his satisfaction, he began looking for clothes. After a couple minutes, he decided on a dark blue pair of swim trunks and a white tank top. It was his go to attire when going to the beach. This, however, was going to be the first time he wore a diaper to the beach. He was slightly worried, but he knew mommy would not expose him to any bad situations. They were very discreet around vanilla people with their lifestyle. When they were alone in public, however, all bets were off. “Alright sweetheart, it looks like you got some clothes. Let’s get you all dressed and ready to go swimming!” Amy announced that with an excitement in her voice that would have normally been used by someone who just won a prize on a game show. She couldn’t help it. When she got to be a mommy to her precious little man, her maternal side kicked into high gear. Everything had to be the most exciting thing ever and she made sure to make it seem like that to Justin. The red cheeks returned to Justin when mommy asked him to step into his swim shorts. Once they were pulled up and tied tight, he looked down at his waist and was glad he was going to be wearing a tank top. At least 3 inches of white plastic was poking over the top of his shorts. “Stick your arms up like Superman baby” Amy stuck her arms up to show him just how to do it. She smiled as he mimicked her and she was able to put his shirt on. Once his head poked out of the head hole, she surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. “There’s my little man! Why don’t you grab your Pooh Bear bag and let’s head out” Amy cooed at him with a tushy pat to entice him. In no time flat, Justin had his backpack slung over one shoulder and was at the front door. Slipping both his sandals on his feet, he went through a checklist in his head to make sure he had everything to make the day as fun as he could. “Mommy, we are forgetting…” “The sand toys!” Amy finished his sentence for him. Getting a firm grip on his hand, she walked with him into the garage and put the sand toys in the trunk of the car. “Good memory Justin, you would have had a lot less fun at the beach without those” she told him with a tussle of his short brown hair. “NOW, do we have everything?” the women he called mommy asked, going through the inventory herself. Finding everything they needed, she opened the back door of the sedan and smiled at Justin. “Looks like everything is here, let’s go buddy.” The diaper clad 22 year old hopped in the car, actually pretty excited to be going to have some fun at the beach. Over the last couple weeks, work has been really stressful. Couple that with the normal stresses of paying bills and everything else that comes with being an adult and he was happy he got to let all of that go for the afternoon. Justin looked out the window for a little while, but then got bored. He needed something to do. His mind, as well as his eyes, wandered down to his waist. After he untied the swim trunks, his hands want to exploring the crinkly diaper underneath. While he was a huge fan of his diapers now, they were probably the most nerve wracking part of going to this lifestyle. His first couple times wearing them were about as uncomfortable as it got. The more he wore them, however, the more he got used to them. He loved the safeness and security he got by both mommy putting him in them and just wearing them in general. Plus, when he was playing games, he never had to stop to use the potty and that was awesome! As Amy was driving along, she looked in the rearview mirror and saw her little guy playing with his diapers. “Well well, looks like a certain someone is happy to be in his diapers.” Once he started taking his hands out of his pants, she spoke up again. “It’s ok sweetie, babies love being in diapers and waiting on mommy to change them. Since you are my little baby boy, it’s perfectly natural for you to love your puffy diaper.” While Justin was blushing, he couldn’t help but agree with her. He loved his diapers and, in the short time he has been interested in them, would never want to give them up! After about 20 more minutes of quiet alternative rock from the car radio and crinkles from the back seat, Amy pulled into the parking lot. Both her and Justin noticed that they were the only people there. “Perfect” Amy thought “This should let my little guy be himself and not have to worry about being judged by onlookers.” Mommy hopped out of the car and opened the backdoor to see her little boy smiling back at her. “Let’s get your shorts tied back up” she said as she reached for the swim trunks, making quick work of getting them tied tight. “Thanks mommy” Justin thanks his girlfriend, trying to not let the embarrassment show on his face. While he has been embarrassed about almost every step of their MD/LB journey, Amy was almost the complete opposite. Ever since she could remember, she has wanted kids. Since they are not ready for that step in the relationship, this seemed like a perfect plan B. Unbuckled and out of the car, Justin walked to the trunk where his mommy was waiting. “Alright buddy, how about you take your baby bag and the sand toys while I take the beach bag?” Amy made it seem like a suggestion, while making it a demand. She smiled as she saw Justin grab his Pooh Bear backpack and the huge bag of sand toys. He looked like Santa as he slung the huge bag over his shoulder. Little did he know that the bag was holding his shirt up, exposing some diaper. She had to do her best to hold in an aww as they started the walk down to the beach.

Not a serious story. Written just for shits and giggles, and poking fun at some common diaper tropes. HAPPY FAPPY NAPPY by CK Cute Kitten Snow fell gently, blanketing the world in a fluffy layer of white. It made a beautifully picturesque Christmas scene. Too bad it was Easter. Richard found White Easters very depressing. Especially when his mom forced him to help clean out the attic. There was already a large pile of his old babythings- crib, highchair, playpen, etc- at the end of the driveway with the garbage cans, waiting for the garbage men to take them away tomorrow morning. Richard wasn't sad. As he threw out all his old childhood things, no nostalgia gnawed at him. He just wanted to get the work done over with. His mom and grandma hadn't spoken in...years. There was a huge family feud because reasons; his mom and grandma disagreed, they weren't speaking- hadn't spoken in years since the last Easter fight- so now his mothers did nothing on Easter. They didn't celebrate Easter, hence cleaning out the attic. He missed the rest of his family. He wanted to celebrate Easter. Hell, he'd even go to church. In fact, after he finished up here, he was heading off to his grandma's. Just because his mother was an obnoxious cunt was no reason *he* wasn't allowed to talk to the rest of the family. He just did it behind her back. At 21, he was moved out and on his own in a small studio apartment he shared with several roommates. "Dick, are you finished yet? We're getting ready to go through all the summer stuff we have in storage." His mom called out. "I tried to order a pizza, but the pizza shop was closed. How stupid." Richard rolled his eyes. "It's a holiday. Of course they're closed." He muttered to himself, then raised his voice, "I told you, after the attic, I'm leaving." "Nonsense! You said you'd help out. Why waste the day? What else are you doing?" His mom stuck her head into the hallway, where Richard had dragged all the attic paraphenalia. "I'm hanging out with a friend. I said I'd help with the attic. Which I have done. I'm sure strong, independent women like you can handle the rest of your house." Richard stood up with his old diaper genie tucked under his arm. He pushed past his mother before she could keep arguing. He knew her little game- she suspected where he was going, and she didn't want him going there. He breezed through the house and out into the Easter cold, carrying the diaper genie to the garbage. It was coated with years of dust and attic grime. He wrinkled his nose as dust whipped up on the breeze. He sneezed, dropping the diaper pail; it rolled in the snow. Cursing, he picked it up and brushed the snow off. The wet snow removed layers of dust and dirt as he wiped them away. The diaper genie suddenly grew warm under his chilly bare flesh. He blinked, picked it up, then dumped it on top of his old potty chair. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and turned to head to his car. A girl sat on the hood of his car. She had golden skin, long black hair pulled into a ponytail and bound with a golden band. She wore a harem outfit of ruby red and had big, gold, dangly hoop earrings. She looked like she was dressed as Jasmine from Aladdin. Richard blinked. "Um. That's a nice costume, but it's not Halloween. And it's a little cold out. Could you please get off my car?" The girl giggled as she slid off the car. "It's not cold out at all. Don't you just love the snow, Dicky? It's just sand and more sand where I come from. And heat. Lots of heat. And sand. Did I mention there was a lot of sand?" He'd never seen the girl before. "Uh....how do you know my name?" She'd probably heard his mother screeching. Like, duh. "Who are you?" "Of course I know your name, silly! I know everything! All about your family! At least, all about your family ever since your mother's babyshower, when she got the diaper genie." "Um. What?" "Don't you get it? I'm the diaper genie!" The girl gesticulated wildly. Richard stared. He blinked. She puffed her cheeks out. "You know! The genie of the diaper pail! Okay, I'll grant you, it's a little odd. We genies usually come from lamps. But this was...extenuating circumstances that trapped me in the diaper genie. But you set me free, so you get some wishes. Or something like that. That's how it normally goes, right?" Richard blinked. He blinked again. He stared then he blinked some more. He blinked and stared and stared and blinked. And so on and so forth. Then he burst out laughing. "Okay, haha. Very funny. Where's the hidden camera?" Genie's cheeks puffed up like puffer fish again. She stamped a foot and her golden ankle bracelets jingled. "I'm not joking! I have magical powers!" She snapped her fingers and the garbage cans danced. Richard stared. "Right....so you're a genie imprisoned in the diaper pail, and I set you free? Why didn't you ever come out for my mom? We sure could've used your help when I was growing up. " "Because I don't like her. She's like a yappy, mean chihuahua you just wanna punt over a fence. And technically the term is djinn, but genie is the more familiar lexicon in this part of the world." "...Wait, you're saying you can pick who you show yoursself to? And you don't really seem to know about the wishes, either." Richard crossed his arms. "You should've done your research to make this prank seem more authentic." "Well...." Genie bit her lip and looked sideways. "Rules have never really been my thing, you know? C'mon, you're breaking your mother's rules, sneaking off to grandma's to play with the Easter Bunny. Oh, that reminds me! You really should get a diaper on!" "What are you on about?" Richard jerked back like she'd slapped him at the mention of diaper. His cheeks flared bright red and he pretended like he never heard it. "I'm majoring in mythology. I know about djinn. Genies. And those rules are more like nature's laws. Like gravity. You don't get to choose what rules you follow." Now Genie blushed. "Oh, hey! You're Mommy's looking out the window. I think she might come outside. We'd better get going." "Yes, I'd better leave. Happy Easter." Richard walked past the strange girl, shaking his head. She really was pulling his leg. He got into his car and drove away, watching the strange girl disappear in his rearview mirror. He was almost at his grandma's house. In his car. By himself. No strange girl in a hot Halloween costume around. "Dicky, you REALLY, REALLY, REAALLLLLYYYYYYY should put a diapee on." Genie spoke with an echo that is written in all capital letters for extra empahsis on how echoy and important it is. Or was. Let's have fun switching up tenses cuz YOLO. I mean, reasons. "AH! GAH! IT'S YOU!" Richard shouted in surprise, jerking the wheel. The car almost hit an 18 wheeler, but the steering wheel magically maneuvered the car back into it's own lane and began driving all on its own. Richard tried to place his hands on the wheel and got a sharp static shock. "Ah!" He cried in pain, tried to touch the wheel, and got zapped again. "Relax, I got the wheel. " Genie waved her hand. "How are you doing that!" Richard stared in awe, watching his car drive itself. "Magic. I told you, I'm a genie." Genie giggled. He tried to touch the wheel again, but his palms were stinging. So he just sat and stared. "Now, about getting you diapered-" "Why the hell would I need a diaper?" Richard blushed again. "Because...well...there is kinda sorta a teensy, tiny, itty bitty price to pay for having an all powerful, magnificent, hot, sexy, beautiful, charming, most gorgeous genie granting you wishes. Like, I'm kinda sorta attached to you now. I came out of a diaper pail. Do you see where this is heading?" "No?" Richard still stared at his self-driving car. Genie face palmed. "Like, my magic kinda intereferes with your bodily functions. Or something. I don't know the science or rules behind it. " She shrugged. "I didn't think you'd really mind much. You like diapers- you have a whole closet full of them. And you go on all those diaper forums and stuff." "HEY! HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT?!!!!!!" Richard yelled. "ARE YOU SOME PERVERT WHOSE BEEN SPYING ON ME?" "No! US GENIES KNOW ALL!" Genie shouted back just cuz. "Anyway, you're gonna be, like, needing diapers. I mean NEEDING them. Like, you're not potty trained anymore." "Are you saying I'll be peeing myself?" "Among other things. Yes." "So...like, Aladdin needed diapers? That explains the baggy pants." "Well. No. I don't really know how it goes with Aladdin. I only saw the Disney movie when you and your mom watched it at home. But that was more of a traditional genie. I'm more...unconventional. Yes, unconventional! I like that word, it really fits. I'm an unconventional genie." "From a diaper genie." Richard snorted, now used to the idea of his car driving itself. He looked at her. "So, like...I get three wishes? Then afterwards, you disappear? You're freed? How does all this work?" "Gah! Stop pressuring me!" Genie yanked on her long ponytail. "I don't really know! I've never done this before, and I really suck with rules. I'm just kinda winging it as a I go along. I was attached to the diaper genie, now I'm attached to you. Three wishes is so boring, anyway. I've been cooped up for so long. So let's just have fun and make it up as we go along!" "Okay, then. I wish myself potty trained." Richard rolled his eyes. "Um. It doesn't work like that. I can't change that. I can magic you up a big training potty that plays music when you 'flush' the handle? Or how about a nice, super thick diaper with little rattles and blocks? What color? White diapers are so boring. But I really need to get some padding on you before....oh. Um." "What?" Richard started then gasped as his crotch suddenly felt wet and warm. He'd peed! He just pissed himself without warning! "I PEED! WHAT THE HELL!!" "Relax! I told you this would happen. Well, now you know I wasn't lying!" Genie grinned. She snapped her fingers; the inside of the car filled with red smoke and sparkles. Richard coughed. When the smoke cleared, his pants were down his ankles and he sat in a big, puffy, GINORMOUSLY SUPER DUPER SO BIG IT MUST BE DESCRIBED IN ALL CAPS diaper. It was yellow with Easter eggs plastered all over the tape panel. His jeans wouldn't fit over the diaper CUZ IT WAS LIKE SO, SUPER BIG. "What? My family can't see me like this! Couldn't you put me in a medical diaper? Genie, I wish for a medical diaper!" Richard hollered out desperately. "Um. I'll try?" Genie snapped her fingers. The diaper just grew EVEN BIGGER!!!! "Oops." She giggled as he glared at her. "Here, I'll fix your pants!" She snapped her fingers again. Another puff of smoke, some glitter, and his jeans now covered his diaper. Except they had elastic wasteband and snaps running down the inseams. "Uh-oh. Um...no one will notice? Just tell them it's the latest French fashion? Besides, everyone will be busy looking at me, your stunningly perfect girlfriend!" She grinned. Richard blinked. "Um...I'm gay...and my family knows it." "Got a boyfriend?" "No..." "Well, now you've got a girlfriend." "It doesn't work like that." "Then how else are you going to explain me?" "Um...do you have to come?" "Yes! I'm attached to you. You can't get rid of me even if you wanted to. So, me being your girlfriend totes explains us always being together!" Genie grinned. "No one will believe it." "I know, I'm like way out of your league." "That's not what I meant." "Then you figure an excuse out." Genie stuck her tongue out at him.

(God I hope this is in the right place this time ) Had no takers over on diaperedanime, so figured I'd try my luck here! Seeking rp partners for an X-men themed roleplay--ideas included below! (Note: these aren't set in stone, just suggestions for starting points and can be negotiated via PM!) I prefer multi-paragraphed posts with good grammar and spelling and absolutely love immersive narratives. I'm pretty flexible as to whether I'm the little or carer, provided that some effort goes into building up the overall story. Just PM me if you're interested! (Also note: Doesn't have to follow the comics. Not even remotely closely. ANY iteration/variation/universe welcome! Cartoons, movies, that one odd obscure spin-off in the 80's, you name it!) A few ideas to get things started: 1) Wolverine 'takes care' of Gambit --Remy LeBeau has never been the most 'open and honest' member of the X-Men, but despite the occasional guff here and there, Logan has never really thought much of it. That is, until one night he gets a call from higher-ups saying that Gambit's finally been caught and his luck is officially running out; either someone finds a way to fix this or the thief is going away for a very long time. Logan's parented many a troubled kidlet over the years--but never to such extremes as this. 2) --After the humiliation of having her beau-to-be walk out on her not just once, but twice, BellaDonna decides that if she can't keep Gambit as her husband, then having him as her humiliated little baby will do just nicely. Unfortunately, she doesn't count on anyone coming to his rescue, especially not the best tracker on the whole X-team; and while he's definitely going to save the cajun, Logan can't help tease him some for all the trouble gone through to get here. 3) --Gambit has trust issues: specifically, he finds it difficult to shake old habits and open up, yet still finds it frustrating to think that the others neither 'like' nor 'trust' him. As such, the cajun's been rather happy to act out a bit more than usual--from the occasional quip to outright skipping training and missions altogether. While the others are fed up, Wolverine is definitely much more of a no-nonsense type of guy; if Remy doesn't shape up and act his age then Logan's going to gladly fix it so he gets treated appropriately. Wolverine and Nightcrawler --Kurt Wagner has always been a sensitive little soul, despite his devilish appearance. Throughout his life, all he's longed for is companionship and acceptance; and while being part of the X-Men offers that to a degree, he still feels a sense of loss over a feeling he can't quite place. All Kurt can say for certain is that he dreads nighttime, because that's when the nightmares come--and there's only so many times he can run around at night carting wet sheets before Logan catches him. Wolverine and Cyclops --Logan and Scott have never seen eye to eye, literally. While Wolverine prefers to get right down to the heart of the matter, Scott finds it better to plan and think about what they're doing rather than rush in like a maniac; as such, they don't tend to share much about their personal lives to each other. That is, until after a minor plane failure on a routine scout-out that takes Scott by surprise makes Logan start asking some questions, specifically, about the soaking wet trunks the leader is suddenly sporting.

BAD SEED C.K. Cute Kitten Cameron McLeod lay on his back, staring up at the white painted ceiling tile decorated with decals of teddy bears and ABC blocks. He sucked on the large rubber nipple, the plastic shield of the pacifier pressing against his lips. His hooded sweatshirt and onesie were pushed up to his armpits, and the plastic strap securing him to the changing table was tight; Mrs. Vesper had the unfortunate habit of fastening it too tight, as if she thought that somehow made it extra secure. He felt a tugging sensation on his hips and lower abdomen as a fresh diaper was taped around him. "A clean diapee feels better, doesn't it?" Ms. Sweeney chirped in her sugary sweet singsong voice. Her diaper changes were much gentler than Mrs. Vesper's. She had gotten called away by a phone call, so Ms. Sweeney had stepped in and finished changing him. He tilted his head, looking up at his teacher and licensed regression therapist. Her plump, ruby red lips smiled down at him and her brown eyes twinkled, full of the joy of life. Her short, curly black hair frizzed around her head like a fuzzy dark halo and huge rhinestones sparkled in her earlobes. She chattered away, mostly to herself, not expecting her charges to answer. Most of them could or would not. Cameron caught her eyes and returned her smile behind his binky. He was one of the few who could. He had a hand full of classmates in the special education; regression therapy curriculum. His only reply to her was a smile. Dirty diaper, clean diaper, it made no difference to the eighteen year old. He had been in diapers since he was six. The last day he had worn big boy underwear- they had a print of Spiderman, he recalled that specifically- his life had changed forever. He shivered at the memory, his heart skipping a beat "It's cold, huh, baby?" Ms. Sweeney cooed as if he were a toddler. "Let's get you all fixed up and snugly warm again." She unfastened the changing table security strap, pulled down his blue onesie down, fastening it over his diaper. He heard the metal snaps click shut, pressing the padded bulk closer to him and felt some of the cool baby powder shift in his diaper, sliding down towards his butt. He felt her tugging on his pants and heard all those snaps click shut. The cold was not what made him shiver, but that was something he did not want to talk or think about. He was happy the cool days of early autumn were growing colder as winter approached. Wearing pants and long sleeves was a lot more acceptable in the cold weather than it was in the warm. It was normal. He would rather be stared at for being dressed like a weirdo in the warm weather than to expose what lay beneath his clothing, and he did not mean his diapers. The snaps on all his pants, and the telltale bulge of a thick diaper, coupled with the loud crinkly noise they made, all gave away his diapered state anywhere he went. No, what he hid from the world was the painful mementos of the fateful day that changed the course of his life forever. That day was the reason he still wore diapers, and why he was in the regression therapy program. Ms. Sweeney watched her student's pretty face crumple. Cameron had better control of his emotions than her other students, and he was the one who had been through the most. He had also been through the most intensive therapy. When reading his files for the first time, she had been horrified at the nightmare the boy had survived. He had also spent several years in a mental hospital that specialized in intensive regression therapy. "What a cute ducky!" She tapped the yellow duck embroidered on the chest of his blue onesie. "What does the ducky say?" She asked, fearing he was having a melt down and wanted to distract him from it, like she would distract a baby having a tantrum. Cameron stared up at his teacher. He knew what she was trying to do, distract him from his thoughts. The technique worked with patients who had been mentally and emotionally regressed. It had worked on him in the hospital, when he had been little more than an overgrown infant. It worked on his classmates, who were kept emotionally regressed. He played along. "Woof-woof!" He spat his binky out. "Silly baby. Puppies say woof. Duckies go quack-quack." Ms.Sweeney cooed then pulled his hooded sweatshirt down, hiding his ducky and his onesie from sight. "Uh-oh." She smiled and slipped his binky back between his pink lips. Cameron opened his lips so she could slip the rubber nipple into his mouth. "There we go, all done!" She held out her hands, and Cameron placed his hands in hers, allowing her to help him sit up then jump down from the changing table. His hooded sweatshirt hung loose on his slim frame. It was light blue with white and baby blue stripes on the sleeves. His jeans would have passed for normal jeans except for the snaps running along the inner legs all the way up to his crotch, to make for easier diaper checks and changes. His plastic backed diaper crinkled noisily with each little movement and the thick padding around his crotch was familiar and comforting. "Tank yew." He lisped behind his binky to Ms. Sweeney as she tugged at his pants and shirt once more, fixing them now that he was standing. A little bit of drool ran down his chin and plopped down his ever-present bib. A bright yellow ducky clip with a blue strap secured his paci to his shirt. "You're welcome, sweetie. Go back to your seat now." She patted his heavily padded bottom then set about cleaning up the changing table and throwing his used diaper and wipes into the diaper genie. He started across the regression room, which resembled an adult-sized daycare. The thick bulk of his diaper forced his legs apart, giving him an unsteady toddler waddle. He toddled past the locked classroom door when loud voices drew his attention to the glass window in the heavy door. It was locked to prevent any regressed students from wandering out, for their own protection of course. The regression room was more like a daycare in the high school, and students in the regression therapy program were little more than oversized toddlers and babies. "Chill. Seriously. No need to get your dick in a knot, gramps." The voice was loud, female, and excessively annoyed. Cameron froze, shocked at the foul language coming out of a female mouth. He toddled to the door, peering out of the glass window for a lookie-loo.Normal students rarely passed down this hall, which had several special education classrooms. The only time other students or school personnel passed down the special education hall was when they were taking the long way to the school office. Through the glass, he saw a girl in black short shorts, ripped black stockings, black leather boots with spikes, and a baggy black sweatshirt. Spikes had been added to the collar and cuffs. The shirt was just as short as the shorts, exposing the girl's flat stomach. She wore metallic purple lipstick, and her eyes were heavily rimmed with black makeup that made her naturally pale skin the hue of a corpse. Metal spikes poked through the skin under her lower purple lip in a snake bite piercing. A matching, curved metal spike pierced her navel. Her most arresting feature was the left side of her exposed middle. Her once-smooth flesh was a mutilated pink and red ridgeline of deep scars. Rows like jagged, crooked canyons furrowed through her mutilated flesh, as if skin and hunks of meat had been ripped away. Behind her marched the school principal, Mr. Witherspoon, with a stern frown on his aged visage. "Young lady, you are already in violation of the dress code. It is your first day so I will let you off with a warning. Such language will NOT be tolerated here at Mapleton High. Any further infractions of the rules or insubordination to your teachers will result in punishment. Do I make myself clear?"The girl grinned crookedly. "Well, it's a little murky-"He cleared his throat, cutting her off in the middle of her shenanigans. She huffed a put-upon sigh. "Yes, sir." She reached under her half-a-sweatshirt to pull down a white tank top with a glittery black skull on it. "This better? My side was hurting. All hot and itchy, you know? Just needed some air on it. It's still healing." She stuck a finger bedecked with a skull ring into one of the canyons, pushing the shirt's cloth into the groove of missing flesh. Mr. Witherspoon visibly cringed. The girl smirked but quickly wiped her face when he opened his eyes. "Your shorts are still in violation of the dress code. Do NOT let it happen again.""Sure, sure." The girl dug her finger in more, rubbing the groove so the cloth stuck in, giving a hint to the mutilation it hid. The principal puckered his lips in distaste and she grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Well, if that's all sir, I'd better be off to class. Don't wanna be late." She clicked her booted feet together and gave him a sassy salute then dashed off down the hall. Mr. Witherspoon stepped in front of her, blocking her way. He leaned down close and said in a threatening tone, "I run a tight ship here. I will not allow this school's reputation to be tarnished. Parents depend and trust me to keep this institution and its students safe. I have read your files. I am perfectly aware of your past antics. I know your grandfather kept you from going to juvie, where you certainly belong. Or maybe in one of those regression camps for troublemaker youth. I will see you sent there if you so much as put another toe out of line. Do we understand each other, Liliana?"She rolled her eyes insolently, not cowed at all by the invasion of her personal space. She looked sideways and locked eyes for an instant with the prettiest boy she had ever seen. She smiled at the boink in his mouth. Cameron blushed, his face burning, as the girl caught him staring. Purple punk lips quirked in a smile. She winked at him. He realized he still was sucking on his boink. Humiliation washed over him. The new, trouble-making girl was laughing at the big baby boy. Just like all the other normal kids had when the school had attempted to mainstream him. He quickly spat his pacifier out, but it dangled from his ducky clip. Too little, too late- the girl was already looking away. "Liliana!" Mr. Witherspoon crossed his arms, looming over her. Her eyes snapped back to the principal. Her purple lips quirked in a sneer and she looked him up and down aggressively. "Fuck you." She snarled in oddly accented Hindi. Both the principal and Cameron blinked at the foreign language. Cameron wondered what language it was, but the principal seemed to know. "What did you just say?" Mr. Witherspoon barked. "Don't think you can get fresh with me just because you've spent time in India." Liliana smoothed her face into a blank mask. "I said, you are right, sir. I will behave myself from now on. I'll be just as good as my cousin Pissy." "Excuse me?""Priscilla? Prissy? Priscilla Renine? She's my cousin." This time the girl added an "r" into Prissy, making Cameron think her earlier slip up was intentional. He almost smiled at the nickname. He had no love for Priscilla, not after the pranks she had played on him, the bullying, the teasing and tormenting. Mr. Witherspoon's brow ticked. "Yes, I know." Everyone knew who Priscilla was; she was a cheerleader and one of the most popular girls, and a darling of the adults. She was also one of the main reasons Cameron had ended up back in the regression program after his therapist had attempted to mainstream him. "Yeah. I'll be the same exemplary student she was. " The principal's lips puckered even more. "I somehow doubt that." He looked down his nose at her. Liliana grinned. "I will, you'll see!""Humph. You may go, Miss Renine. But remember, I am watching you." "Oh, no doubt about that, sir. I don't doubt that at all." She ended with a theatrical, mocking bow then glanced up at the door again. Cameron's blush deepened when she smiled at him and winked again. He giggled then covered his mouth with his hands. Before the principal could say anything else, she dashed off down the hall. The principal called after her, voice dripping with disgust. "No running in the hall!" He shook his gray head and marched back to his office, the number one place students dreaded. Cameron had a feeling the girl would be spending a lot of time there. Cameron, what are you doing?" Mrs. Vesper, who was younger than Ms. Sweeney and was her assistant, came over after helping another student pick up the jumbo Crayola crayons they had dropped or thrown. Cameron never took his eyes off the hallway. He just pointed to the window. Mrs. Vesper peered out and her eyes widened in recognition as Lili trotted past. She made a loud cluck of disapproval with her tongue, then took Cameron's soft, slender hand in her own. She tugged, leading him like a nursery school worker leading a toddler. Her lips puckered just like Mr. Witherspoon's had, like she had bitten into an extremely sour lemon. "I see. Liliana's back. Well, don't you worry, sweetie. That scary girl won't bother you. I won't let her. Now, come on, it's art time. Why don't you color a pretty picture for your grandma?"At the mention of his grandmother, Cameron wrinkled his nose as he toddled along besides his teacher. His grandmother Beatrice would not care if he colored her a picture or not. Oh, sure, she would pretend to care, to fuss and coo over him if others were around. It was all show though; she did not give a damn about him. If he was alone with her, she would just smile, pat his head and mumble "how nice" before going back to checking the agenda of her social calendar or gossiping with the other ladies in her Ladies' Society. She was always on the phone, worse than a teenage girl with her need to keep up with what was going on in her social circle.Mrs. Vesper took his hand and tugged gently, leading him away from the door and view of the hall. "Aww, your binky fell out. Here you go, baby." She popped his binky back into his mouth and he accepted it automatically, sucking and moving mechanically as she guided him back to the table he shared with Leroy, who was regressed to a five year old mentality to help him recover from some emotional trauma or other, Cameron had never learned the reason for the other boy's regression.Leroy looked up as Cameron sat down and he smiled at the teacher, holding up a scribbled, childish drawing of a dump truck. "Big twuck!" He showed her and Cameron proudly."I see. What color is it?" Mrs. Vesper cooed, patting Cameron on top of his head. "Boo!" Leroy shouted loudly, meaning to say blue. He burst into giggles and clapped his hands at her praise. "What a smart baby!" Her smile faltered as she sniffed. "I smell stinkies. Who did it?" A cloud of stench wafted up from the table. A very similar stench would've emanated from Cameron's own behind if he didn't take a special pill twice a day that nullified fecal odor. Not all the students took the pills, though. Some mommies wanted to easily tell if their baby made a stinky. Cameron's grandmother did not want anyone knowing what went on in his diapers, so she had him on the pills. Mrs. Vesper looked down at them both. Cameron let his binky fall. He wanted to tell her he'd just gotten his diaper changed- in fact, she was the one who had started changing him, but he knew she wouldn't take his word for it. She had been distracted and forgot. Instead of pointing it out , he just sat there quietly debating to try speaking up or hold his tongue.He just smiled as silly as Leroy. "Quack quack!" "Well then I'll just have to check your diapees." She lifted Cameron's hoodie up and found her way blocked by his onesie as she pulled back his pants. She squeezed the back of his puffy diaper but found no lumps. "New diapee." Cameron lisped before putting his binky back in his mouth. "Camwin poopies!" Leroy pointed and giggled, accidentally knocking his blue crayon onto the floor. Mrs. Vesper stood Cameron up, popped open his crotch to poke at his diaper from the leg holes. "Dry as a bone. You must've just been changed." Cameron rolled his eyes; he'd just told her that. 'No shit, Sherlock.' The snarky phrase rolled through his mind, tempting his lips to say the deliciously naughty words. He blushed at the impulse. Those were bad words and good little boys did not use them. Even now, the teachings from his time in the hospital stayed with him, reinforced here in the classroom. Mrs. Vesper snapped him back up and gently pushed down on his shoulder. He immediately plopped down with a loud crinkle and felt a little trickle of warmth as he peed into his diaper. "So, you must be the guilty culprit." She pulled Leroy's pants and diaper back and wrinkled her nose. "Phew. Yup, it's you. Come on, let's get you changed, little stinker." She took him by the hand and led him over to the changing tables. Cameron wondered at the rebellious streak as he stared down at the blank white paper. He was used to being babied, had been conditioned to enjoy it. It was all he knew. After his time in the hospital, he had been home schooled and outpatient therapy. At home, he was taken care of by a regression specialist nanny since his grandmother was very busy with her competitive social life. She was the only family he had; his grandfather was always overseas on business, and his father…..the man was still alive, in prison. After some homeschooling, when he had progressed to a lighter therapy schedule, his therapist suggested he go back to school. Not in the regression program, but in regular school, with the normal students. That had been a disaster.He picked up a purple crayon, doodling a spike the like ones under the girl's lip. Liliana. She felt no compunction to obey authority figures like he did. He recalled her smart mouth and blatant defiance. Attitude like that would earn him a one way trip across his teacher's lap. Parents and guardians of regression students signed consent forms for some old fashioned, across the lap discipline. It helped keep over-sized toddlers in line. He drew a pair of fat purple lips and wondered if Liliana would behave if she was spanked. Judging how Mr. Witherspoon and Mrs. Vesper reacted, it would take a lot of spanking to make the girl behave. That's one of the reasons the regression program existed- to help bad kids learn to be good, to reform them. Would she be joining him in class? She'd be regressed so he wouldn't get to talk much with her. He didn't talk with his other regressed classmates much, but he still enjoyed playing with them. How far would they regress her? Most of the students in here regressed to preschool or kindergarten level. In the hospital, he had been regressed to a newborn and had worked his way up from there. Now, mentally, he was no longer regressed. He had been in with the normal students, when the adults tried to mainstream him; it had been like throwing an injured rabbit into a den of starving tigers and resulted in him being put back into the regression room. Here, he was safe from the normal students and their bullying.

(Before anyone reads this, I think its only fair to warn you that there are 'dirtier' themes then you would normally find in an abdl story. I don't believe it breaks any site rules, but as I usually don't write like this, I may be mistaken and I apologize if so . )SMACK SMACK SMACK!The sissy squirmed as his bottom was spanked by his daddy. Tears were streaming down his face as he grasped tightly onto his teddy bear for comfort, and only his pacifier keeping him from calling out. His diaper was pulled down to his knees and his skirt lay on the ground, leaving his bare skin open to the harsh smacks. His daddy took his time, spanking him again and again until he was satisfied the sissy had learned his lesson.He stopped and rested his hand on the sissy's bright red bottom, feeling the new found warmth comming off of it."Now little Nathaniel, did you learn your lesson?"The sissy squrimed and looked at him through tear soaked eye lids. He didn't answer and kept suckling his pacifier, knowing the trick.His daddy patted his upturned bottom. "Good baby," he said. He removed the pacifier and asked again, "did you learn your lesson?""Yes daddy," he sniffed."What did you learn?""I learned not to deny to mommy or daddy that I'm a sissy baby.""Exactly right." He began absent mindedly stroking and patting the sissy boy's bottom, making him moan. "Now, remember when you came here. You played with your mommy, being her little baby, pretending to be a boy..."The sissy groaned and the word "pretending."The sissy's 'daddy' began speaking in an overly sweat, mocking tone. "But then she tried putting her baby in a skirt. She's told me how you whined and complained that you were a boy, and how you didn't want to do that... and how hard you became the second you were in pink. Remember?"He nodded."It wasn't long after until you were always in your pretty pink skirts, always a little sissy, and always loving it. But you still complained, didn't you? Were you a naughty little liar to your mommy?" He spanked him hard.Nathaniel yelped. "YES DADDY!""And whats more... I bet you never expected to be subby to a daddy, did you?""No daddy...""But the little sissy saw all the big strong men, and mommy saw how he stared... and it wasn't long until you were in the lap of your first male babysitter, crying in humiliation, and beging for more, wasn't it?" He spanked him again, and Nathaniel shouted."Yes Daddy!""And then you asked for something you never thought you would, to please a daddy, didn't you?"He blushed deeply. "Yes daddy.""Good baby. And yet it still seems you deny it sometimes, don't you? Like you did to mommy and me earlier?""Yes daddy.""Was that a lie? Was that a naughty little lie?" Another spank, another yelp.He nodded. "Yes daddy!""Then beg me for it. Beg to be a little sissy in pink dresses, bending over and kneeling down to please me. Tell me how much you love it.""Oh god daddy please no..."He spanked him, harder then before. "NOW!""OW! PLease daddy! I want to be a little sissy in pink dresses, bending and kneeling to please you! I love it I love it!""Good. Then I have a reward for my sissy. Stand up." He helped Nathaniel to his feet. He then reached over and pulled up the sissy's diaper, straigtening it out."Now. Pick up your skirt and put it on."He looked at the skirt and back at his daddy. "But... Daddy?" Normally he was forced into his fetish clothes, not asked to put them on himself."Do it yourself. If you want it, that is. I don't want any way for my little sissy to pretend we made him do it."Nathaniel glared, but reached down and pulled up the skirt.Nathaniel was now dressed head to toe in fetish wear. Almost everything he wore was pink and was designed to drive home his feminine and infantile state. Around his waist was a flouncing skirt that was short enough to leave his patterned diapers visible. Underneath it were long, pale stockings that went to his knees and were tied in bows, then Mary Jane shoes. Above it was a pink shirt he tucked into his skirt, a bonnet, and his pacifier. Though he was still clearly male, his hair had grown long, and the clothes were cut to fit his thin stature.Jordan, his 'daddy,' on the other hand, was far broader, and wearing only shorts and a t shirt. The contrast between the muscular sitting man and the thinner one in the skirt was clear.Jordan patted his lap. "Sit down sweetheart."Nathanil sat down gingerly, then whined and squirmed as he rested on his aching bottom."Oh hush up, your diapers are more then thick enough for cushioning," Jordan said. "Now, for your reward. And remember, you can stop this anytime you want"He picked up a bottle of white frothy liquid and brought it to Nathaniel's lips. Nathaniel looked at him suspiciously, then began to drink what he assumed was milk.A moment later Nathaniel gagged. "Keep drinking sweetheart," Jordan said sternly. "And yes, that is exactly what you think it is."Nathaniel whined but kept drinking. The bottle tip was thin, and the liquid came out slowly, forcing him to taste each drop."Like that? This was ordered online. I bet you didn't know they sold stuff like it, eh?" Jordan said. Nathaniel cringed and kept drinking. "It comes other doms and real men, intended for little sissies like you. I of course added my own, plus a little something to help you fill your diapers." Nathaniel groaned loadly at the last part, but kept drinking."I want you to know that this is your place. Look at you, a grown man dressed like a little girl in diapers, suckling a bottle in your daddy's lap. Longing to be in pretty pink skirts and getting taken care of and spanked. Pathetic. But you love it, don't you?"Nathaniel nodded between gulps. He squeezed his eyes shut and had to fight back gags from the salty taste."And now you're drinking this just because I told you to. We both know you hate the taste. We both know you could leave if you really wanted to. But we also both know that you won't, don't we? You love this more then anything?"Nathaniel didn't respond, and Jordan slowly reached down to his waste, lifted up his skirt and put a hand on the front of his diaper. Nathaniel gasped."Oh no? Sure seems like youre enjoying it." Nathaniel whimpered and pushed himself into his daddy's hand.Jordan laughed. "Oh ho look at you. Really loving it. Love the feeling of your pretty pink diapers, nice and soft against you?" He began rubbing it back in forth. Nathaniel didn't move. "Admit it, sissy. Admit you love it or I'll stop."Nathaniel nodded vigerously."Good baby."Nathaniel felt something poking the back of his diaper. He began rubbing it with his diaper almost instinctively, moving his bottom back and forth in his daddy's lap as he'd been taught to do.Jordan smiled. 'Very good baby."The bottle was almost done. Nathaniel still struggled to drink each drop, chocing and gagging at the taste."Keep going little one, almost there. Baby isn't going to be able to finish in his diaper unless he finishes his bottle!" He spoke in a high, teasing voice. "And remember, that is filled with a nice laxative, so finishing means your going to be in a VERY full and VERY stinky diaper soon, and we're going to keep you in it ALLLLLLL night. Sound fun?"Nathaniel whimpered and shook his head."Oh no?" Jordan pressed down on his diaper, and Nathaniel began nodding again. "Mmm hmm! Mmmm hmm!" he groaned, wordlessly begging for the punishment his daddy had promised."Now, you want to add something else to your pwetty widdle diapies?" Jordan asked."Mhmm!" "Finish the bottle and I might let you." He rubbed slower, keeping Nathaniel on the edge.Nathaniel sucked as hard as he could and tried to drink faster, resisting the urge to gag as he swallowed it all. Jordan kept rubbing him slowly, stopping when he felt him get to close.Finally the bottle was finished, and he moved it away."Oh god daddy!" Nathaniel shouted. "Please! Please let me!"Let you what? Let you be my little sissy forever? Let you please your daddy? Let you fill your little diapies?""Yes daddy please I want it all! To be your sissy, to please you, to fill my diapers!""Good. And you'll never play pretend at being a man again?""No daddy! Never! I'm not! I can't be!""Good. And you know that even though you're going to finsih in your diapers now, you'll still have to please your daddy, you'll still have to be a little diapered sissy, and you'll still spend the night in a messy diaper since when the fun is all gone?"Nathaniel was sobbing in desperation. "Yes daddy.""And you know this will prove how much you love being a little sissy in diapers, how much it turns you on, and how you only need to finish in your diapers from now on?"Tears streamed down his face. "Yes daddy!""Good baby. Then finish." He rubbed harder. Nathaniel gasped, convulsed, and lay shuddering on his lap.Jordan let him rest for a moment, smiling down at him. He then gently picked him up and cradled him in his lap. He began rocking him."Good baby. Good baby. Good sissy. You did well little one, you really did," he said in a soft voice.Nathaniel's eyes opened. "Daddy?" he said questioningly."Shhh..." Jordan said. "You were a good little sissy." He bent down and kissed Nathaniel on the forehead. He stroked his hair and back as Nathaniel became more and more awake. When Jordan was satisfied he was rested enough, he sat up straighter and hugged him. "Now, go rinse your mouth out," he said louder. "Then you'll come back and finish pleasing your daddy. When you're done, we'll give you a nice hot bath, and maybe some cookies if you're good, ok? How's that sound?"Nathaniel smiled. "Good, daddy.""Good, then go." He stood Nathaniel up, patted his bottom, and sent him on his way.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WGJ1H9X/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i3 BAD MOON RISING by CK Cute Kitten “This shit hole hasn’t changed much in a century.” The noise of the crowd swallowed Prudence’s mutter. Fair booths lined both sides of the street. The Fall Harvest Festival was like a Halloween themed farmers’ market. Some booths had games, but most sold homemade goods and sweets. Hand-knitted sweaters and blankets, apple and pumpkin butters, summer jams, hand pressed ciders, homemade fudge and candied apples. Warring scents assaulted her sensitive nostrils. Fried fair food -burgers, corn dogs- mixed with freshly popped kettle corn and pumpkin flavored cookies, cakes, pies and mingled with scents of homemade candles. This bouquet of smells was underscored by the sting of homemade alcohol. Shrieks of excited children pierced her ears and the pungent aroma of dirty diapers filled her nose, drowning out the other scents. Little sugar-crusted snot goblins ran everywhere, too fast for tired parents to keep up. Prudence nimbly side stepped the kids as she slid between the gaps of people milling about. Her slim hand slipped into pockets as she passed, occasionally coming out with money. Mostly chump change from the locals, but she got quite a few crisp twenty dollar bills from the visiting yuppies. And a few wedding rings she could pawn, though the gold was low quality and not worth much. Her haul was better than the last time she strolled down these streets, pick-pocketing at the turn of the century. Newton was a small town surrounded by farmland and woods. Cornfields and wilderness as far as the eye could see. That hadn’t changed much; now there was more farmed land, less woods. The town had expanded as the population grew. Dirt roads paved over. More automobiles. No more horses and buggies. Telephone polls. Street lights. Cell phones. Girls in pants. Main Street was still the largest street, running right through the center of town. A couple of fast food joints. A few diners. One grocery store. Some gas stations. Feed store. The three bars in town still stood in their same spots. The names changed and buildings were modernized. Her hometown was still just a backwoods scratch on a map. Just a newer version of the same old shit she’d left behind. Even the Halloween Carnival was mostly the same. The name had changed; somewhere along the line, it morphed into the Harvest Festival. Main Street still got closed off and shut down so booths, a spook house, bounce castles and a few carnival rides popped up. A maze of hay bales and tables for pumpkin painting. Prudence noted one big difference as she walked around; a big increase in the number of attendees. Farm families were too far apart, so they used to bring their children to town for trick or treating. Adults took advantage of the time to trade goods, thus spawning the Halloween Carnival. Now, city-dwelling yuppies, enamored with romantic idealizations of the quaint, wholesome, rustic country life flocked with their broods to the small town. They drove for an hour or more for the honest, simple country folk to fleece them with over priced, hand-made goods. Prudence couldn’t fault the locals for their business savvy. The yuppies were ripe for the plucking; big pockets, small brains. No common sense. City living bred it right out of them. Not that she was complaining. She smirked and patted the pilfered money in her own pockets. “This Halloween sucks.” Picking the pockets of idiots with their guard down was the only entertainment this town had. She’d never wanted nor planned to return. Only once had she come back, in the 1940’s to burn a few records of her past and erase some evidence. Local police had labeled those fires as Halloween pranks by deviant youth. One of those fires occurred a few streets away from where she stood now. She recalled a full harvest moon in a starless black sky and the orange flames turning day to night. That night had been a ill moon for the town. Tonight was a full moon on Halloween, too. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, feeling all her ill-gotten gains. “Looks like it’s another bad moon for you, baby.” She grinned to herself then laughed. Hicksville was boring as hell, but all that she hated about this place made it the perfect place to lay low. She had pissed off quite a few dangerous, powerful wolves when her latest, not-quite-legal, get-rich-quick scheme went bust. The law got involved. The law breakers were not happy. Now Prudence was laying low until the heat- both from the cops and the wolves- blew over. The crisp autumn breeze shifted. Red, orange, and yellow leaves fluttered about. Costumed kids shrieked, tiny hands grasping for the dancing leaves. The change in direction of the wind brought in scents of earth, of rotting vegetation, pine needles, and animal musk. The forest. Fresh cut hay and pumpkins from the fields. Pumpkins everywhere. Just like when she was a child. A human. Pru struggled to recall happy childhood memories. Fought for nostalgia as her feet once more trod the soil of her birth, both as a human then as a wolf. All she felt was nausea. She’d discarded her childhood as easily as she’d tossed her humanity. All she had left were vague memories. A screaming mother. Fighting siblings. So many siblings- faces and names all blurs. A father who always reeked of soured whiskey and who was heavy handed with his belt. Constant hunger in her belly. She shook her head, brushing the cobwebs from her mind. They weren’t worth remembering. She crossed the street to another row of booths, looking around aimlessly. Three little ball jointed dolls in a glass display case caught her attention. These were collectors’ items, not toys for children to play with and ruin. The dolls were little children dressed up for Halloween in exquisitely detailed costumes. The faces and hair were realistic looking; little replicas of real life. She almost expected them to blink, to giggle, to move on their own. She drifted closer to the booth, standing right in front of it. She never took her eyes off those hauntingly beautiful dolls. Childhood memories frozen in porcelain. “Like the dolls, dearie? Win them in a raffle. Only five bucks a ticket. Helps out the firemen.” A middle aged lady with gray streaks in her ponytail shook a roll of tickets in Pru’s face. Pru took an involuntary step back, blinking and shifting her focus onto the lady. A sense of deja-vu hit her and she was swept back to her childhood. The woman was a dead ringer for her old teacher in the local one-room school house. Mrs. Fisk had been a strict but fair schoolmarm. Most of the kids liked her. Prudence often was on the receiving end of Mrs. Fisk’s switch; neither teacher nor student had liked each other very much. This raffle lady had to be one of her descendents; a great great granddaughter or something like that. “I’ve never seen dolls that detailed. They’re almost life-like. They should be in some high-end store, not a prize at a fair. “ “I thought the same when I first saw them. Lucas is such a talented boy. He refurbished these from a thrift shop. He should’ve just sold them on ebay. His cousin Rosie said he insisted on donating them to the raffle when she dropped them off.” The lady shook her head. “The dolls have been a big help. These tickets sell like hot cakes. We just might be able to get that new equipment after all.” Prudence tuned her out as she prattled on. A boy created such a treasure from junk? She wondered what kind of person this artist who created such beauty was. Trash turned into art. She wanted to meet him. She was tempted to swipe the dolls, but they were at the back of the booth, under glass. And the lady watched them like a hawk. Too much trouble... But if an opportunity presented itself, she’d be ready to pounce. “You look really familiar. Are you related to a Mrs. Fisk?” The lady blinked, taken aback. “Fisk is my maiden name. I’m a King.” She looked up from her tickets, giving Prudence a long, hard look. “You look familiar, too.” She squinted. “I swear, I’ve seen you before. But I know you’re not from around here. I know all the locals.” Her voice took on a touch of pride. “Oh, I was born here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Left plenty of family, though. The Pipers still around?” “There’s a few. You’ve got the look of a Piper.” “They still causing trouble?” “Never stopped.” Prudence laughed. She liked the lady. Maybe she’d let the old bat keep her dolls, as a favor to the very late Mrs. Fisk. “What did you say your name was?” “I didn’t. It’s Prudence.” “Prudence Piper?!” The lady’s grey brows rose nearly up to her hairline in shock. Pru smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Something wrong with that name?” “You don’t know who Prudence Piper was?” Pru shook her head. The lady rambled on. “Whoever in your family named you has a sense of humor. Prudence Piper is something of a local legend.” She leaned forward to stage whisper. “She was a notorious girl. A bootlegger during Prohibition. Rumor has it she had ties to the mafia. Al Capone’s sweetheart.” Prudence laughed at that. “I’m not so sure about that last part. But I bet the rest is true. Well behaved women rarely make history, after all. She sounds like a fun gal.” She gave the dolls once last look then drifted away.

This is an old story. Reposting due to the malware incident. WHO’S THE BABY NOW by C.K. Cute Kitten “Mom, I’m 13- I don’t need a babysitter!” Damien argued yet again as he stood with his mother on the front porch, waiting for his father to bring the car and for the babysitter to arrive. His mother fussed with last minute details of her make up and rather revealing costume. “I know what a big boy my little man is. Of course I trust you, sweetie. It’s the rest of the world I don’t trust.” She patted the top of his head placatingly. “Moom!” Damien sighed in exasperation. He’d have better luck arguing with a brick wall. His parents usually let him have his own way, but his mother labored under the delusion he was perpetually nine years old and in Kindergarten. She even insisted on driving him to school, but since showing up at school in a flashy red sports car impressed his much older classmates and cut down on the teasing, Damien let it slide. He was one of those smart kids who had skipped several grades. “‘Aww, baby, don’t be upset! Mommy won’t be gone long- I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. This party is very important for Daddy’s business. Now, you be a good boy and Mommy will bring you home a present.” Damien rolled his eyes and suppressed the urge to bash his head off the porch railing. His mom was impossible to talk to, and his father only pulled his nose away from his phone long enough to mumble “listen to your mother.” So on this warm Halloween afternoon, Damien was stuck with a babysitter. Probably some bubble-gum chewing bimbo who would spend all night on the phone and ignore him. Well, on the bright side at least he could sneak out and go to the party he’d been invited to. He stopped glaring and smirked to himself. Still, it would be easier to go if he didn’t have a babysitter at all. “Sweetie, don’t give me that look. You’ll be completely safe with your babysitter. He’s a very serious, responsible young man and he goes to your school. Ah, there he is now, just in time. Hey, Scott!” Damien’s eyes widened and his stomach knotted in dread at his mother’s words. Scott did, indeed, go to Damien’s school. They were classmates in a few classes. Scott was not mean enough to be called a bully but he definitely did not make Damien’s life any easier. “NOO!! MOOOM! NOT HIM, NOT HIM!!!” His mother wasn’t listening. His father pulled up and honked the horn, impatient to be off before they were late, and his mom left in a flustered rush just as Scott approached the porch. “Scott, there’s a list of emergency numbers and instructions by the phone, and pizza and pop in the fridge.” Damien’s mom whirled on her seething son, snatched him to her and smothered his face in kisses. “Bye bye baby! Be a good boy! Mommy will miss you!” Damien spluttered and jerked free, face red in embarrassment and covered in pink lipstick. He caught Scott’s laughing gaze and glared at his mother, but she was already gone. The car rolled down the drive, past Scott’s weathered, dented and rusted clunker. Damien crossed his arms and glared up at the much taller male. “I don’t need you here. Go away.” Scott just chuckled. “I need the money. Not all of us are spoiled, rich babies like you.” “So? Just get lost and come back tomorrow. Or I’ll pay you myself, if you need the money that bad.” “Paid off by a 13 year old? I don’t think so. Besides, I wouldn’t miss this chance to spend time with my favorite little buddy. Don’t want you crying for your mommy or anything, baby boy.” The 17 year old sauntered into the large, posh house, looking around and making himself at home. “Besides, I promised your mommy I’d watch her pwecious wittle baby.” He added in a mock coo. Damien loathed being treated like a little kid. Being a 13 year old in high school didn’t help. He was smarter than those idiots, but younger and inexperienced compared to his classmates, and Scott never let him forget it. Damien let several of the popular kids copy off him- if he didn’t, they’d pound him into mince meat. That had been Scott’s idea. Scott felt extremely insulted to have a baby in the same class and grade as him. So he teased and picked on him. Grinding his teeth together and slamming the door shut, Damien followed Scott into the house. He could not- would not- endure an entire night of the bigger boy teasing him. He put up with it enough at school. In class. In the halls. In the cafeteria. Even in the bathroom. It was almost as bad as being in middle school again, and Damien would NOT put up with it this weekend. “At least tonight isn’t totally ruined.” He thought out loud. Scott was popular and he was invite to Laura’s party, too. “But when we get to the party, I’m totally ditching you.” Damien stormed into the kitchen. Laua had invited Damien when he let her cheat off him during a test. “There’s not going to be a party.” Scott helped himself to the fridge, munching on a cold piece of pizza while reading several pages of notes in Damien’s mother’s neat handwriting- the instructions she’d left for Damien’s care. “What? B-but Matt and Ryan are coming over. We’re all going to the party. Surely you’re invited too!” “No. Costume parties are stupid. They’re for babies.” Scott looked at Damien. “Well, I guess you’d enjoy it since you’re just a baby. But your mommy said you’re not supposed to go anywhere.” Damien’s one night of fun, free from his mother’s suffocating clutches, vanished as if Scott swallowed his plans along with the pizza. Damien opened his mouth to snarl a reply but saw /Scott holding up a yellow bib, sippy cup, and slice of cut up pizza. “What the hell is that?!” Scott smiled. “Your mommy left these sitting on the counter. So I assume they’re yours, wittle baby.”

This is a repost. I'll add more later. THE MAN IN THE GRAY SUIT by Cute Kitten ( CK) “Ro? You promise?" The hospital pillow was flat and lumpy, almost as uncomfortable as the mattress. Ryo missed his own bed that cradled and supported him just right. He also missed the familiar, soothing surroundings of his home. Most of all, he missed Aurora. Ro. Her smile. Her carefree laughter. Her sarcasm. He hadn’t seen her smile since the accident. He never realized how much he depended on her until his world was turned upside down. She was his rock; his strength. She had always been, ever since they were best friends as children. Being with her always felt so natural; like their destiny was with each other. Their love written in the stars. Romeo and Juliet without all the drama and death. Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Mark Antony and Cleopatra. Tristan and Isolde. Ryosuke and Aurora. They were an odd couple despite how easy and natural being with each other was. Ryosuke was the pretty one. The effeminate one of the couple. He’d worn the white dress when they got married on a beach at sunset, the warm waves lapping at their ankles. He’d had a diaper on under his dress. He was clearly male but mixed with a haunting feminine beauty that made him a favorite of the modeling world. Part of that beauty came from his Japanese heritage. Ro was his opposite. She was no beauty queen, but she cleaned up nice when she bothered to care about her appearance. As long as he’d known her, she’d been a total tomboy who hated dresses as much as she loved the ocean. Night and day; so different but they completed each other. Even paradise had its problems; disagreements and differences of opinions. Each had different priorities. Hers was money. His was her life. Ro didn’t answer. Her head was bent over his hairless, freshly diapered crotch. She was taking much too long with this diaper change, dragging it out and avoiding eye contact. Her gaze focused on the front panel of his diaper as she pressed down on the tapes. She ran her fingers over the smooth, thick plastic to make sure it was fastened tight. Ryo stared at her, but her face was carefully blank. Her mouth was in a straight line, her eyes blank. Neutral. Guarded. Trying to hide her emotions and thoughts by acting like she hadn’t heard him. Her silence spoke volumes. Ro diapering him was nothing new; she’d been changing his diapers since their relationship turned serious when they were eighteen. They were twenty three now; Ro was several months older than him. She’d changed his diapers throughout their dating, engagement, and now their marriage. He’d always had bladder problems; he’d never been out of diapers at night and he wore pullups during the day in case of not uncommon accidents. They’d been childhood best friends; Ro knew all his secrets and loved him anyway. He loved her, too. Trusted her. He thought he knew all her secrets. Looking at her now, doubt wriggled in his stomach. She was hiding something from him. “Aurora?” He prodded into the widening chasm of silence between them. Ro ducked her head, hiding her face. Her fingers slid down the slick plastic, lightly pressing on the thin padding. A faint crinkling filled the quiet, small room Her fingers found the leg gathers. She poked and prodded, making sure his diaper was on just right. She was too focused on her task, fingers moving too slow. Deliberate, with too much concentration. Before the accident, diaper changes had been moments of intimacy between them. Ryo could handle his own diapers, and often did. He always felt so vulnerable when she changed him, giving her control over this most intimate aspect of his life. He also felt so loved, accepted, and protected. Cherished. Precious. This was her way of showing him how much she loved him. Even now, as she tried to hide something from him, she still tried to stay close to him. She tried to reassure him by changing his diaper. To show without words how much she loved him. During a normal diaper change, as she wiped, powdered and diapered him, she would look at him. Smile. Make silly faces or blow a raspberry on his stomach. He’d roll his eyes at the juvenile teasing she’d never grown out of, then he’d stick his tongue out or try to tickle her back. Now, she avoided his gaze and acted like this was the first time she’d ever changed his diaper. Ryo glanced at the balled up, wet medical diaper. It was at the bottom of the bed, by his right ankle. The left side of the mattress, where his lower leg and foot should have been, was empty. He winced, quickly shutting his eyes. Aurora handled his missing limb better than he did. It had been weeks since the accident, and the sight of his stump still churned his stomach. Mere weeks since the last time he’d surfed. Since his near fatal encounter with a great white. Surfing was in his blood; his mother and grandfather were avid surfers. Ryo had grown up surfing; he’d even placed first in a few local competitions. His grandfather owned a surfing shop where he made custom boards. Ryo often helped him. Surfing was Ryo’s hobby, but most of his money came from modeling contracts. All surfers knew the danger lurking below the waves. They knew the risk getting into the ocean. He’d seen scars of shark bites on some avid surfers. He’d seen boards with huge, jagged bites. He realized the danger in the rational part of his brain, but a small part of him had insisted it would never happen to him. That insular bubble of ignorance had been popped by serrated shark teeth. Now, his life was like his missing leg; crushed and shredded. He didn’t know where to start picking up the pieces. The only thing he did know deep down in his bones was he had to protect Ro from making the same mistake he did. Ro had grown up diving. Her mother ran a diving school and her father worked for the local zoo and aquarium, cleaning and maintaining the huge, deep tanks. He was a retired abalone diver. Ro helped her mother run the school in the off seasons of abalone hunting. It was too lucrative to pass up. She could make a hundred thousand dollars in under fifty days. Those mollusk delicacies were so expensive partly due to the dangers involved in harvesting them. Abalone season coincided with great white breeding season. The father of Ryo and Ro’s friend Sheila had been an abalone diver who’d been killed by a great white. Ryo had lost his leg to a great white. His leg, his surfing, his modeling. Life as he knew it was changed. He couldn’t lose his heart, too. His Aurora. “I don’t like these hospital diapers. They’re too thin. Fourth leak already. You need better protection. Your bottom’s a little red, too. I think you’re getting a diaper rash. The nurses aren’t changing you enough. I’ll have a word with them when I leave.” Ro ran out of reasons to keep fussing with his diaper. He felt her tug down his thin hospital gown from where it was bunched up by his armpits. The gown hid his diaper; the hem brushed the knee of his right leg and the bandaged stump of his left. She covered his lower half with a scratchy, puke-green blanket. “It’s not so bad. They only leak if I’m not changed on time. The one nurse’s aide is always late. The blue haired girl with the nose ring.” Ryo managed to catch her gaze for a second before her eyes skittered away. “I need to throw this out.” Ro mumbled and hastily snatched up the used diaper that was squishy and cold with his pee. She carried it to the red biohazard bin. He frowned at her back. He wriggled his hips, adjusting his position on the mattress. His diaper crinkled loudly in response. His night diapers at home were just as noisy, but they were thicker. He felt more secure with more padding. He’d also feel more secure if Ro would just promise him… Sharp pain shot through his stump, cutting off his train of thought. He gasped. In that lightning strike of pain, he almost felt his missing leg and foot. Phantom sensations from raw, damaged nerves. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands fisting in the blanket. He was never going to get used to this. Not even his diapers could comfort him. His bedwetting and frequent accidents when he couldn’t get to a toilet fast enough were sources of shame. Diapers had always comforted him; made him feel safe, secure and protected. They boosted his confidence. He did lose some modeling gigs due to his incontinence issues. Pullups and diapers kept his pants and bedding dry. Pullups were quiet and discreet, even if they leaked sooner than a thick, thirsty diaper. At his quiet gasp, Ro instantly whirled and rushed to his bedside. She held one of his hands while her other hand touched his forehead. “What hurts? Where? Baby, do you want me to get a nurse?” She gingerly squeezed his slender fingers. Her concern poured over him in waves, reassuring him she still cared despite trying to ignore him. Ignore the important question he’d asked her. The promise he wanted her to make. She was here today, but he wanted her here always. Not callously throwing her life away for money. His stump still throbbed, waves of discomfort sloshing over his body. He felt tired, drained. As if the diaper change and one little movement sapped all his strength. The diaper change hadn’t been so bad; Ro had done all the work. The nurses had taught her the techniques to change him without jostling his injured limb. He could get through a diaper change with minimal problems since someone else did the lifting and moving while he stayed relatively still. When he moved the muscles on his injured leg, it felt like setting off fireworks if he moved too quick, too careless. Ryo smiled weakly up at Ro. Her fingers ran through his hair just the way he liked. “I’m fine. Just moved too quick. Even with this in-” He held up his hand with the IV line. “It still hurts like a bitch.” “You don’t look so good. I’ll go get a nurse.” Her fingers trailed down the side of his pretty face, brushing over his soft cheek. Her gray eyes probed him, searching for indicators he was down playing the amount of pain he was in. “Don’t. Really. I’m fine. Promise.” At that word, he bit his lip and dropped his eyes as he remembered the wedge between them. The promise Ro refused to make. The pain had shoved his worry and emotional turmoil aside. Now it was back, but this time he had Ro’s attention. “Baby? What hurts?” He closed his eyes and shook his head. He suddenly felt overwhelmed and helpless. He couldn’t protect her. All he could do was beg to stay out of the water and pray she’d listen. He felt her lean closer. Salty ocean tang filled his nostrils; he knew where she’d spent most of her morning. His stomach churned. Thoughts of her being bitten like him made him dizzy. His head swam with images of gray fins, white teeth opened wide and Aurora’s severed limbs floating in bloody water. He wanted to puke. “Tell me. Ryo, what’s wrong?” Ro’s hand cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. Her pleading tone nearly broke him. Nightmares of the shark attack haunted his sleep. Sometimes he was eaten. Sometimes Aurora. The vivid images and emotions bled into his waking hours, filling him with dread. He’d told her about them numerous times, but she just brushed them aside as emotional trauma. Just like the doctors. He still couldn’t shake those feelings, even if his headstrong wife refused to listen.