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DISCLAIMER: IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ! If you have not read my first story: Little Beginnings: New Life - I HIGHLY suggest you do so! This story will make a lot more sense if you do. It’s where the main character is first introduced and you and learn a lot about the little community I have created. ooOoo Chapter 1: Three Months Before The moment she stepped out of the cab, her skin began to burn. Luna groaned, enduring the full force of the simmering summer heat. This was the exact reason she never wanted to come to the South. There wasn’t anything she hated more than the sun, and by the end of the day, she’d be as red as a lobster. Her father always said it was their Irish blood and she’d roll her eyes in return. No shit sherlock. They were as white as the freakin moon. For sure, she’d stand out among the throng of tanned bodies, which in her case, was not a good thing. She wasn’t sure how long she would stay but Luna had gotten a credible lead on her dad. One she couldn’t ignore. And if the authorities were still scouring Raleigh, it would only take them hours to realize that she was no longer there. “Hello, Miss?” the driver grumbled, knocking her from her thoughts. “You gonna pay me or what? I’m not gonna sit here all day.” He was a grumpy old man who’d only reluctantly driven her all the way out here from North Carolina after promising a generous pay. She’d had to leave earlier than expected and while inconvenient, made her aware of how comfortable she’d become. Never did she stay in one place for more than a few months. It wasn’t safe. “O-of course,” she blushed as she fumbled around in her wallet and pulled out one hundred dollars for the driver. Despite his less-than-stellar personality, he knew when to stay quiet and not ask questions. That was good enough for her. She carried only the bag on her back and money to last her at least another year and a half. After that, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Luna watched the car take off down the dirt path before finally exhaling the breath she’d been holding in the entire ride. There was an eerie silence. A sort of calm before the storm. Luna had only ever known noise, growing up in the heart of Manhatten. Her father explained the importance of hiding in plain sight. Nobody would expect them to be in bustling New York City, a place known for the attention and spotlight. It was perfect… until it wasn’t. Now, looking straight ahead, Luna wondered if she had the right place. The roof of the red farmhouse was dilapidated and the land looked absolutely dead. Anyone who happened upon the house would believe it was abandoned. Though that was the point. No one was supposed to know this place existed. Luna had only found it due to her father. He was the reason she’d not been caught yet. The girl walked ahead with a renewed sense of purpose. The boards below her feet creaked and she rapped her knuckle, three than two than six times, on the faded white door. She clutched a swiss army knife in her other hand, hidden in her pocket. “Always be prepared.” Her father taught her. “Never hesitate.” She was literally in the middle of nowhere-bumfuck-South Carolina. No one would see her if she was kidnapped. No one would hear her if she screamed. Being vulnerable was something she did not like. The door opened a crack and dark brown eyes peered at her. Her hand tightened around the knife and heart frantically raced. “Who sent you?” it was a woman’s voice who asked. “Martin Creevy.” she used her father’s alias. “I assume you’ve heard of him before.” Oh, the woman definitely had by the way her eyes lit up. The door closed in her face and for a moment, Luna thought she’d been turned away. However, there was a click and suddenly it opened again, wider. “We’ve been expecting you,” she said, motioning with her hand. “C’mon in.” Despite the raised hairs on the back of her neck, she stepped over the threshold into the house. There was no turning back, only moving forward. She never could stop moving, searching. Not until he was found. The door slammed shut and Luna jumped, spinning around. She watched the woman re-chain the door and turn the several deadbolts. From the outside, it looked like nothing. Her eyes wandered around, trying to adjust to the darkness. They were in a narrow hallway, with no lights and no other exit. A few pictures adorned the walls and they stood on a dusty old rug. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of mothballs and she leaned on each leg, testing the uneven floor. “You don’t think much of it.” Her eyes flashed back to the woman, who stared intently at her. “It’s just… different.” her bow-shaped lips pursed together. “Where do we go?” “Down.” “Down?” Luna didn’t think she meant literally, but she did. She watched as the woman bent down and peeled back the rug, revealing the wooden floor and… a hatch? “We take our security very seriously. There’s a ladder going down,” she explained, unlocking and lifting up the door. “You go first. I’ll follow.” ooOoo It was a tiny house. That, Luna had been sure of when she saw it from outside but inside, down here, was big. She supposed the basement would be large but not this big.They stood in the kitchen, which had no wall and lead right into the dining room where there was a small wooden table. Unable to help but gap, eyes going wide, the woman laughed, coming from behind her. “Don’t keep your mouth open too long. You’re gonna catch flies.” Her mouth instantly snapped shut and a furious blush spread across her face. Her blue eyes drifted over the woman beside her as she could see her properly for the first time in the light. She had a heart-shaped face and kind but weary brown eyes, that looked to have seen too much pain over the years. And despite her smooth, unwrinkled brown skin, her hair, which Luna could imagine must have been dark black at one point, now greyed. A few loose curls hung in her face and her lips formed a thin smile. “You look like your father.” Her brows furrowed together. She knew her father? “You have the same face but your eyes, they are exactly like your mother’s.” Her lips parted and she stilled. Her only reaction was to blink. “Call me Sue,” the woman offered no other explanation. “I always wondered when we would meet.” Still, she couldn’t bring herself to react. “This is the MacIntosh Safe House. I suspect this is the first one you have come across?” It was. Before, she was squatting in random abandoned buildings, resting while she had the chance. She knew there were safe houses, just didn’t know how to find them. “Sit down, Hon,” the wom- Sue, headed toward the kitchen cabinets, searching through them. “You’re exhausted. I’ll make you a snack.” Her feet moved on her own accord and sat down on the stool at the island table. Sue chopped an apple into slices. MacIntosh. She gulped, trying to find the courage to speak but was, she felt… Luna didn’t know how she felt. The strong confident girl from a few hours ago was gone and didn’t know what had happened to her. “My name is-” “I don’t want to know your real name.” she interrupted, not looking up from the cutting board. “Do you believe my name is actually Sue?” The girl did believe, well, at least up until now. “Charlie.” she made up on the spot. “Call me Charlie.” “Nice to meet you, Charlie.” The name sounded strange as the woman referred to her as it but Luna knew it was better this way. There was nothing to tie her to here. Well, except the driver but she doubted he’d remember. “I’m sure you have many questions and I’ll wait to answer them until you meet the others. It’s not common that we have a new person.” “The others? Oh, and I’m not planning on staying long. I’m just passing through.” She passed the plate across the table with the freshly cut apple slices and smiled. “Of course, you aren't.” The woman didn’t seem to believe her. However, the girl nibbled on the apple, realizing for the first time just how hungry she was. “There are six other people staying here. Three are out right now and the others are in the next room.” Glancing at the doorway in the dining room, she could hear the faintest sound. Was that a tv? There were a few voices. “Your father always bragged about how smart you were and never did I not believe him. You found us, which is not easy to do.” she leaned back against the oak cabinet. “How long ago did he go missing?” “Two years ago.” she ignored the heavy feeling in her heart. Realistically, he’d been preparing her for this since the moment she could walk and talk; but since it had happened, she’d never had time to fully comprehend. “He told me to run and not look back if they ever found us. He said that if he was captured then he’d find his way back to me someday. I believed him for a long time. Now, I’m less optimistic.” She sucked the tart flavor off of her fingers. The apples were gone. She’d eaten them all. “I didn’t believe it when he first told me about the communities, age play, and all of that stuff.” her lips curled up. “If the government knew, why hadn’t they put a stop to it? Innocent people are being kidnapped. My mother was kidnapped. Now my father. It made no sense.” At least, it used to not make sense. But now she realized, anything the government profited off of made perfect sense. Kidnapping defenseless people, stripping away their rights, all for what? To create a better nation? Her parents knew the price they would pay for speaking out about the secret age play communities and the government-sanctioned kidnappings. They just didn’t expect it would go this far- being on the run, living in hiding. And her mother especially didn’t expect she would get pregnant. Now she was destined for a life on the run. That is unless she wanted to get taken and forced back into diapers, made to shit and piss herself, play mindless baby games, and be just some sick couple’s object of amusement. That’s what had happened to her parents, she was sure of it. The only other option was that they were dead. Luna would gladly choose the second option if it came to it. No way would they take her alive. If Sue noticed the faraway look in her eyes, she didn’t comment. Instead, she took the dirty plate, dumping it in the sink. “Why don’t we go say hello to the others.” “Now?” she stammered. Growing up homeschooled, her interaction with people was severely limited. Being alone was what she preferred. It's what she was best at. “Yes, there’s just one thing you have to know." "What?" "Try not to stare.” “Stare?” “Mary gets mad and Tina can't help what was done to her.” Luna didn’t know what that was supposed to mean and tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling, but it just wouldn’t go away. ooOoo A/N: Hello everyone! I promised I would post soon and I did! I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter and you may notice two familiar names :). If it doesn’t make sense at first, trust me it will soon! I will be alternating, telling Luna’s (Lulu) story from before she was taken and after in Henderson. I will touch a bit on the hospital but it will mostly be her life after. I should update again soon but I hope you all enjoy!

This story is set in preston: a town were women have virtually no rights. Its an under used setting that I like and want to write a story set in it. And hope other would be authors use it as well. Here goes... Alice tried desperately to stop sucking on the pacifier to no avail. She hated not being able to speak. Not being able to say what she wanted to say. She hated it less then she hated her "playtime". Shed been nothing but the model of a good duaghter. Good grades. Good looks. She was even going to graduate from college! Any parents would have killed to have a duaghter like her. Every parent exept hers that is. They always tried to get her to act like a spoiled brat. When she got good grades theyd ground her. When she landed a job they tried to talk her into quiting. Shed even had to hide the fact that she was attending a virtual college. She thought that when she showed them her certifacate they would finnally be proud of her. Instead they drugged her and sent her to preston. "Sweetie its time for stickies!" She heard as she exited the land of memories. She started to cry immediately. She was not allowed to control her emotions. If she hated something she had to cry or be punished. As she qas placed on the vibrating rocking horse forced to cum and cum and cum again she flashed back to the day this all started.

“SPIDER!” my little sister Annabelle screamed at the top of her lungs. “STOP SCREAMING!” I screamed back at her before running over and killing the damn spider. “Look, just go downstairs and look through some of the stuff down there!” Annabelle was 8 years old and had a very high pitched scream that I absolutely could not stand. So far that had been her 4th time screaming her head off and I would rather clear out this attic myself than to hear her scream near me one more time. Why are we cleaning the attic? Well because we're selling my grandmas house. About 5 months ago my grandma got really sick and died just 2 weeks later. It was a very sad time for us all. Anyway, my mom couldn't afford to keep both our hose and my grandma's house so she decided to get everything out and go through it. Some stuff we are selling, some were giving to goodwill, and some were keeping. My sister was in tears after I yelled at her but what do you expect? A 16-year-old brother can only handle so much screaming. But Annabelle did climb down the ladder leading to the attic crying so it wouldn't be so bad. Mom might be a little mad at me for yelling at her but even she knows how much of a pain it can be to hear my sister scream. I was about to get back to taking stuff down the ladder when I suddenly heard something slam shut. Looking back I could see the door to the attic had closed shut. Shit! I went over and tried to reopen the door but it wouldn't budge. Whoever made it, made it so that it can only be opened from the outside. “Perfect,” I whisper as I pulled out my phone to text my mom. She had a few things to do today so she left the two of us here to clear out the attic. ‘Hi mom, Annabelle’s screaming was getting on my nerves so I sent her downstairs. She must have accidentally knocked the ladder and now I'm stuck up here.’ I texted my mom. ‘Ok, I'm almost done with my shopping and I'll be back in 30 minutes.” she texted me back. great, stuck up here with nothing to do. My grandma doesn't have internet and my phone doesn't have any apps so I'm already bored. Not long after that, I hired the phone ring downstairs. Most likely mom checking on Anna. I take a look over at the boxes still up here and I decided to open a few and see whats inside. Maybe I could find something cool and call dibs on it. the first box had nothing but clothes in it, the next had old photos, and finally the last I checked actually had stuff in it! Most of it was old junk that I wouldn't have any use for. But it was still neat to look at some of it. Then I noticed something, a little pink box. I grabbed it and just looked at it. Out of everything in the box this one looked a little out of place. As I opened it, I let out a small giggle. It was a pink diaper with the word ‘princess’ on the front. On the back was just a large red hart. “Why was this up here?” I asked myself before tossing the diaper and continued to look through my grandma's stuff. But then I heard something, a small rustling sound, was it a rat!? I quickly turn around to see nothing. Then I hear the rustling again and I turned to look at the attic door. But again nothing was there, well except for the diaper. Just then I realized the rustling sound must have been the diaper. but what I didn't realize was it wasn't in the spot I tossed it at. I decided I should actually pick it up and put it back in the box before mom gets back. As I walk over and try to pick it up however the diaper suddenly leaps into the air and clamped onto my face! What the fuck! I immediately start fracking out as I try to pull the diaper off my face when I suddenly fall down. “Ow,” I say as I rub my head and release the diaper is off my face but notice it's trying to make its way into my pants! I immediately grab onto it and tried as hard as I could to pull on it, but It just would not budge! I might be scrawny but I can't be this week! But my hands slip and the diaper went right into my pants. I quickly stand up as I feel the diaper moving around in my underwear! I immediately pull down both my pants and underwear just as the diaper tapes itself onto me and started releasing a thick pink smoke! “What the hell!” I yell out before I start coughing and I close my eyes. With my eyes closed, I didn't see my clothes began to disappear and soon replaced by different clothes. When I finally was able to open my eyes I screamed as I looked down. I now had knee-length socks and black shoes. My pants were gone and I was now wearing a pink frilly skirt that only covered half of the pink diaper. My shirt was replaced with a short-sleeved pink shirt that didn't even cover my bellybutton with a red vest red ribbons over it. And if I had a mirror I would see that my dark hair has turned into a light pink color with a small ow sicking out the side of my head! “W-w-what the…” I said weakly as my body starts shaking slightly. "What the hell was going on here!" I then began pulling at everything, trying as hard as I can to remove any of it! “You can't take me off.” I heard someone say and I immediately jumped and began looking around. “Who said that?” I asked as I saw no one else around me. “I am Pardie,” the voice said again. “Where are you!” I asked. “Look down.” the voice said and when I did all I could see was the diaper. “What do you mean? All I see is the diaper.” I tell the voice. Suddenly the diaper began to swell and get bigger forcing my legs apart! “I am the diaper.” the voice said before deflating back to the original size. (the name pardie is diaper with the letters changed around) “T-this can't be happening,” I say as I really start to freak out. “Ow, but it is princess, and now it's time for you to save your kingdom,” Pardie told me and suddenly the diaper began letting out even more smoke. “NOT AGAIN!” I yelled as I closed my eyes and began coughing again. When the smoke finally subsided and I was finally able to breathe again I opened my eyes to see I was no longer in the attic anymore. “WHAT THE HELL!” I screamed as I began to freak out. “THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! I was now inside an empty room with only a single window and a door. “Welcome to you castle princess,” Pardie said to me. “IM A BOY NOT A PRINCESS!” I screamed at the diaper and realized I'm losing my mind. There's no way I'm screaming at a talking diaper, or magically been taken somewhere else. “This has to be a dream. Ya, I must have slipped when I was picking up the diaper and hit my head.” I told myself. “You still don't believe this is real?” pardie asked. “Of course not!” I screamed. “Who in their right mind would think diapers could talk!” Suddenly I felt the diaper suddenly get really tight as it began shrinking! At first, it wasn't that bad, hell I figured it would just pop off as soon as it got small enough. But no, it soon felt like there was a vise clamped onto my nuts! Soon I was screaming in pain. “Do you believe this is real now princess?” pardie asked. “YES!” I screamed just wanting the pain to be over and thankfully the diaper went back to normal. “What is going on here?” I asked the diaper as soon as the pain in my crotch went away. “You are here to save your kingdom princess.” pardie told me. “What kingdom?” I asked and suddenly heard screaming coming from outside the window. I immediately ran over to the window and looked outside and my jaw dropped. I was in some sort of tower looking down at a vast beautiful city. But with a closer look, I could see people running around screaming as buildings were lit on fire. Then I saw the case of the fire, a large lion with goat horns was breathing fire! “Princes, it's time for you to save your kingdom,” Pardie told me as I nearly pissed my diaper. ____________ hi! ^.^ I hope you like this first chapter. I've been pretty busy so I haven't had much time to write but I've been wanting to post this for a while. I want to give a shout out to skipek1 (from DeviantArt) who asked me to make a transformation story. and to Redwelch2222 who helped me with a little bit of the world building that will be in the next chapter. this is my first real original story not based on anything already. hope you all like it!

Jackson is a young man fresh out of high school. He is finding that a job is harder to come by than he would have previously assumed and is getting tired of searching. Just when Jackson thinks there is nowhere else to look he spots an opportunity and decides to take the plunge. --- This story, like all my other ones, has been available on my Patreon page for the last week. The lovely people who pledge at the $5 level get to see all my public story updates one week before anyone else and those at the $10 tier also get acces to TWENTY exclusive stories. There are other tiers and rewards available and they can all be found on my Patreon page. https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 I wish to give a big thank you to all of my beautiful patrons: DannyDazzler, Jerry J, Craig G, Steve, LetsMakeAgithaGreatAgain, C Dom, J Onyx, Dre, Pat M, Sierra C, Kris, Miss X, Ali T, PF, Georgia C, Joe, Camilo H, Jason M, Seamus B, Jeffrey G, Charlie S, Martijn de J, Phantom Sonic, Vivi L, Mike S, Dr J, Bojack D, Blipp, Duncan G, Jake W, Brandon G, LuvsSissy, DreaR, Alex B, Malcolm E, Pete W, Cless, Frank S, PatheticABDL, Joshua M, NunyoBC, Kim, S Miller, Britnee L, Tim F, WillNotWill, Orion F, Tom H, Sterling W, Jens B, Whatsnot, Justin152, Charles L, Trenton M, Bask25456, MagmaLord, Diapering Daddy, Pierry L, Trish C, Curiosity24, Peter C, ReiofLight, James K, Anne Mette B-H, Kirk H, Mikkel L, Eric D, Bruce D, Alice W, Findlay, Bob S, Timothy A W, Erik P, Ben F, Steven H --- Carter’s Correctional Care By Elfy Jackson kicked a can down the sidewalk as he slouched along with his hands in his pocket. He was in just a shirt and pants thanks to the hot summer sun that was relentlessly beating down on him. As he walked along he passed people going in the other direction, they were much happier than he was. Jackson didn’t want to be out of the house and doing this stuff. He had only graduated from school a week ago and already he was being hounded to get a job by his parents. Jackson wanted a few weeks just to unwind after all his effort at school. He didn’t think it was fair that he was expected to go straight from classwork to proper work. He wasn’t ready to give up the life he had enjoyed for one that seemed relentlessly full of work. The eighteen-year-old was armed with a backpack full of CV’s as he walked through the town looking for any windows advertising work. Jackson was growing increasingly tired and annoyed as he handed out all of his resumes. The thing that really annoyed Jackson was that these were jobs he didn’t even want, most of the jobs were things he considered beneath him. “This is so stupid.” Jackson muttered to himself as he walked down a side street and away from the main shopping street. It was nice to get out of the sun for a few minutes. Jackson had covered the whole of the main town and didn’t feel like he had made any progress at all. He stepped out of the side street on to a quieter road lined with warehouses, most of them were full of stock for the larger shops. Jackson took a moment to stop in some shade and watched as some trucks drove out of the nearby gate. Thinking he would’ve had more luck sitting at home and going on to the internet to look for jobs Jackson crossed the road and slowly ambled along next to the large metal fences protecting the factories and warehouses. Jackson checked his watch. It was nearly midday and his parents had told him not to come home until the evening. It was ridiculous in Jackson’s mind that he was forced to be out and doing this. He had handed out a dozen resumes and had covered the whole town centre, he didn’t know what else he was expected to do. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t just do all this online. At least there were less people back here and Jackson felt less of the hustle and bustle. Most of the noise was produced by the huge trucks that left the large buildings and rumbled off down the road. Jackson watched one turning into the factory area and as he followed it’s progress he saw a poster on the metal fence. “Volunteer needed!” The poster had written in big and bold lettering, “Product testing. Payment on completion. Enquire within.” Jackson looked through the chain link fence at the large warehouse just beyond the large concrete car park. The car park was half full and Jackson wondered if he should walk up and volunteer for the opening. It was all rather mysterious and he couldn’t see any branding on the brick building that might give him a clue as to what product might be being tested. Checking his watch Jackson was reminded that he was expected to be out of the house for a lot longer. He didn’t see what else he could be doing so with a few tentative steps he walked through the open gate where the truck had gone, in the distance he could see a large metal door open and the truck backed into the building. A couple of large men in white coats quickly pulled down the metal shutter after the truck had disappeared inside. Jackson felt very out of place on the driveway towards the car park and he averted his eyes as he passed a couple of very burly guards. Jackson was very aware of his lack of stature, he was only 5’5” and just 130lbs. He was used to being smaller than most of the people around him but the workers he passed seem to tower over him, they stared as he walked past and Jackson looked the other way. The door to the reception area was in front of Jackson behind a small fountain. The public facing area of the reception was all glass but the bright sunlight made it impossible for Jackson to see inside. As he approached the door he saw that there was a side door that the workers were coming out of, maybe they weren’t even employed at the place Jackson was heading too. As Jackson stepped up to the sliding door it automatically slid open. Jackson stepped through the doorway and felt the air conditioning blowing on him from the ceiling. The cool air felt wonderful on the sweaty man’s forehead. As he looked around he saw a rather small carpeted area that was very quiet, the only sound was a ticking clock. A receptionist’s desk sat against the wall opposite the door. A young woman was sat at a desk typing diligently on a computer, she didn’t turn to look at the new entrant and there was no obvious signs that she even recognised that someone had just walked in. Jackson nervously stepped forwards and looked at a large painting on the wall. The painting was a portrait of an older gentleman, he looked very stern and the eyes seemed to follow Jackson around the room. It gave Jackson the creeps. “Ahem.” Jackson cleared his throat as he reached the desk and smiled at the woman sat in front of him. The receptionist didn’t look away from the screen or say anything. She simply put one finger up to tell Jackson to hold on a minute. Jackson waited and glanced at some of the forms on the desk. It was very clean and tidy, there was a disarming picture of a small dog sitting facing the receptionist. He didn’t really get a chance to read anything written on the pages but it all seemed very important. “Hello and welcome to Carter’s Correctional Care.” The receptionist said, “How may I help you?” “I saw your advert on the fence.” Jackson said, “About the volunteer position. Is that still open?” “It sure is!” The receptionist’s face lit up as he said he was here to volunteer, “Let me just get you the forms. Please take a seat.” The receptionist quickly stood up and indicated the table and chairs to the side of the room. Jackson watched her go through a door behind the desk before turning to the glass table. There was a large leather chair that Jackson sat down in, he had some second thoughts about doing this but he decided to stay to at least ask some questions. The receptionist was only gone for a minute before returning with a nurse. Jackson watched them walk over to the table with a nervous smile, he had no idea why a nurse was required and it did very little to make him feel better. “We’ll need you to sign these permission forms and waivers.” The receptionist said as she placed a pile of papers down on the glass table along with a pen. “I don’t want to be rude.” Jackson said nervously as he picked the pen up, “I just wonder why there’s a nurse?” “There’s nothing to worry about.” The nurse stepped forwards to say, “I’m just here to make sure everyone stays safe.” “I’m… Not sure I feel comfortable.” Jackson said as he looked at the paper. “The process is very simple and will be completed in just a day or so.” The receptionist said, “You can leave a contact number so we can tell your next of kin where you are. It is all above board and there is nothing to worry about.” Jackson took a moment to think about what he was doing. He looked out of a nearby window at the car park he had walked through to get here and wondered whether he should leave. If he went home without any money or employment he knew his parents wouldn’t be happy. The nervous young man turned to the receptionist and nurse who both stood in front of him, their smiles were very disarming. “We can promise that they pay is more than adequate compensation for your time.” The receptionist said in a way that seemed rehearsed. Jackson took a deep breath and put the pen to the paper. He signed his name and put the date in the appropriate boxes. Almost as soon as he had finished the receptionist leant down and took the paperwork away from him, she checked the signature and then gave the nurse a small nod. “If you would like to come with me.” The nurse said as she indicated the door she had come through just a minute or so ago. Jackson stood up and picked up his bag. He hadn’t expected things to suddenly start moving so fast but he walked forwards behind the nurse anyway. As they walked past the receptionist’s desk he saw the phone and was suddenly reminded of his own phone. “Don’t I have to give you guys my home number?” Jackson asked, “So you can call my parents?” “We’ll get it from you later.” The nurse quickly replied without turning around. “Oh, OK…” Jackson said quietly. Once through the doorway Jackson was led down a small corridor. He heard the door behind them close and lock. There was a pair of double doors at the end of the hallway, they looked heavy and imposing. “Through here please.” The nurse said as she opened a door to the side. There was a plaque on it that read “Preparation Room.” Jackson walked through the door that the nurse held open and entered into a room that looked like a nurse’s office. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as the nurse closed the door behind them both. “I just need to take a few quick measurements before you go through to the testing room.” The nurse said as she put on some gloves and looked through one of her drawers. “What will I be testing?” Jackson asked as he watched the nurse pull out a clipboard. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.” The nurse replied, “If you could just step on to those scales over there for me.” Jackson didn’t like the non-answer but he did as he was told and stepped on to the scales near the wall. The nurse peeked down at the result and wrote it down. “OK, that’s a good and healthy weight.” The nurse said with a smile, “Now if you could lay down on the bed for me.” Jackson rather warily climbed on to the surface. He would’ve described it much more as a table than a bed and he laid back on the thinly padded table. The nurse quickly came over with a tape measure and began to take all of his sizing information. Jackson allowed the tall woman to move his arms and legs to take every measurement she needed. “You can leave your jacket and bag here.” The nurse said when she had written down her final measurement, “You won’t need them for the testing.” The nurse watched and waited for Jackson to drop his bag and take off his coat. Then she opened the door to let Jackson back out to the hall. “Through these doors you will find the testing area.” The nurse said as she indicated the double doors now directly in front of them both, “I must ask you to comply with all instructions and you will receive your reward at the end.” Jackson was just about to ask what the reward was actually going to be but was cut off as the door was opened and he was quickly shepherded inside. He was rather shocked as he watched the nurse give him a small push and as soon as he was on the carpeted floor inside the door was closed behind him. There was a small click as the door was locked. Jackson slowly turned around to look at the room he was in and felt his breath being taken away. The room was very large and the startled young man estimated it to be the size of his old school gym. The first thing Jackson noticed was the furniture of the room, it was like a giant nursery or maybe even a day care. There was a crib placed against the wall, a changing table in the centre of the room and more toys than Jackson had seen in one place. Everywhere he looked he saw things that reminded him of a nursery and even the walls were full of small star charts and other posters tailored for an infant. The second thing Jackson noticed was that he was not alone. Standing around the room and looking his way as if they had been waiting for him were around half a dozen men and women in white coats, they were dressed very similarly to the nurse Jackson had just been following. There was an eerie silence in the room as everyone looked at Jackson. Jackson was more confused than ever before and he wanted to leave the room right away. He turned back to the locked door and knocked on it hoping the nurse from before would still be there, maybe she would let him back out. “I’ve… I’ve changed my mind!” Jackson called through the door rather desperately, “I’d like to go home now!” There was no response from the other side of the door and after a few seconds of waiting with baited breath Jackson knocked again. A few seconds later he hit the door much harder but there was still no response, he was almost scared to turn his head and look back into the room but before he even had the chance to do that he felt a hand on his shoulder that made him jump. “If you would like to come this way, sir.” An older man said as Jackson turned around.

Sam is a small college student who enjoys the quiet life. Her roommate, Janet, has been determined to get Sam to let her hair down and come out to a party. Eventually Sam gives in whilst still being very nervous and second-guessing her choice. Whatever she was expecting as she left the house, it certainly isn't what she finds. --- This story has been available on my Patreon page for the last week and with a $5 a month pledge you can see all my updates a week before anyone else. For $10 a month you can get early access plus access to THIRTY stories that only my patrons get to see. If you are interested please consider giving my Patreon page a look https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 --- Sam’s Punishment By Elfy Sam adjusted her backpack straps as she approached her dormitory after a long day of college. She had just got off the bus and had been having to endure the usual looks and comments that she faced nearly every day. She had already been exhausted by a long week on her Business Management course and she just wanted to get home. At just a little over three feet in height the twenty one-year-old Sam didn’t much look like her classmates. Spending a life commonly mistaken for someone much younger than she was had often been tiring for the young woman but college seemed to be a lot better for her than school had been. At school Sam had been teased and bullied and even when she wasn’t being made fun of she found it practically impossible to make friends with the judgmental teenagers. College was much better and the people were much nicer, Sam had even made some good friends especially amongst the others staying in her dormitory. Opening the door to the dormitory Sam smiled as she heard music coming from one of the bedrooms and the smell of someone’s dinner wafting out from the kitchen. She walked down the hallway to her bedroom and opened the door, everything in her room and in the communal areas of the dorm had been adjusted so a smaller person could use them. Sam loved having the independence of being able to do things such as cooking for herself without needing help reaching things. “Is that you, Sam?” Janet’s voice called from the kitchen as Sam dropped her backpack on her bed. Janet was a nice girl and the first friend Sam had made. She sometimes teased Sam about her height but it was just friendly banter and Sam had soon learnt to give as good as she got. She was tall, even for regular sized people, and was roughly twice the height of Sam. She was a bit rowdier than Sam and her bubble-gum pink hair and nose piercing screamed for attention. When the two of them walked down the road together they definitely got some strange looks. “Yeah, I just got in.” Sam called out as she took her shoes off. Sam was about to make her way out of her room when Janet appeared in her doorway with a smile. “How were your classes?” Janet asked as she leaned against the doorway. “Same as ever.” Sam replied, “Dull and boring. I’m just glad it’s Friday.” “I hear that.” Janet said with a chuckle. She lingered in the doorway as a silence fell between the two friends. “Can I help you with something?” Sam asked after a little bit. “Maybe…” Janet kicked her foot on the carpet, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out this evening?” This was a strange offer from Janet because she knew Sam was much more of a homely person. Janet liked to go out clubbing and going to parties whilst Sam stayed at home much more. It had seemed like Janet had made it her goal to get Sam to open up and go out more though, for months Sam was getting these offers and having to find excuses to refuse. Last week Sam had finally said she would consider it for this weekend. “I don’t know…” Sam said hesitantly, “There’s stuff on TV and I have coursework to do.” “You promised!” Janet said with a playful smile. “I did not!” Sam countered, “I said I’d think about it.” “And?” Janet asked. “I’m just not sure I’d enjoy myself at one of your parties.” Sam said honestly, “You know I’m not exactly a party animal.” Janet seemed to pause and consider things. She looked like she was just about to walk away when an idea struck her, she turned to face Sam again who kind of wished Janet would go. Sam liked Janet but she could be quite pushy about this stuff. “What about if I ease you into it?” Janet asked with her eyes lighting up. “In what way?” Sam asked curiously. “You don’t have to come out to the party tonight but I do have to see some friends beforehand. Maybe you could come with me? We would literally only be there ten minutes at the max.” Janet offered, “Meet some of my friends and then I’ll ask nothing else from you… This weekend at least.” Sam thought about it for a few seconds and looked out of the window. Maybe this would be a good compromise, she would get to have the quiet night at home that she wanted and it would get Janet off her back. She weighed up her options and then cautiously nodded her head. “Great!” Janet bounced on the spot, “Get ready. We go in five minutes.” “Five minutes!?” Sam exclaimed. She had expected to be home for at least an hour or so. “No time like the present.” Janet called over her shoulder as she turned away. Sam sighed as Janet bounced away. Sam walked up and closed her bedroom door before walking back into the middle of the room, she could already feel the nerves jangling in her tummy. Sam quickly got herself changed and although her shower was calling out to her she walked out into the hallway. As she walked towards Janet’s room she was nearly knocked over by the much taller girl rushing the other way. “Oh, sorry Sam!” Janet quickly said. “Don’t worry about it.” Sam replied rather bitterly, “It happens all the time.” “Are you ready?” Janet asked as she either missed or ignored Sam’s tone of voice. “I guess so.” Sam replied hesitantly. Janet hurriedly put her shoes on whilst Sam was much more hesitant. One of the biggest disadvantages of Sam’s stature was that she found it really hard to buy clothes. Whenever she went to the shops the only clothes that would fit her were in the children’s aisle and that was very galling for a grown woman. Even her shoes right now were Velcro rather than laces, it made her feel very self-conscious but at least the heels didn’t light up like her previous pair. The two women were soon in the car. Janet waited until they were in the college’s parking lot before asking the smaller woman to drive. Sam had protested but the more forceful personality of Janet meant that, as usual, she got her way. Sam’s car was one of the few adult conveniences she could use, it was specially adapted for someone with limited stature such as herself. “So… There’s something I haven’t told you.” Janet said once they were ten minutes from their dormitory and about halfway through the journey. “Here it comes…” Sam replied cynically. She had been worried that there would be a catch in this journey. “It’s nothing major.” Janet quickly said although the way she wouldn’t look at Sam made the tiny woman worry, “It’s just… This friend I’m seeing is… Tom.” “Janet!” Sam nearly slammed on the brakes there and then, “Now the truth comes out! You don’t want me to meet your friends, you just want me to drive you to get your drugs!” “Calm down!” Janet said loudly, “He is my friend, I wasn’t lying. It’ll be good to get you out of your comfort zone a little bit, bring you out of your shell. Besides, it’s just a little weed, nothing major.” “I’m turning around.” Sam said with a shake of her head. “Come on, Sam.” Janet whined, “Look, come with me for this and I promise I’ll never push for you to come out with me again.” Sam pulled up at a red light and wrapped her fingers against the steering wheel as she considered the options. She knew there was a risk involved but it had to be a minor one since Janet did this sort of thing all the time without any trouble. With a sigh Sam nodded her head and continued towards where Tom was staying. When the car finally pulled up Sam looked out the window sceptically. She had expected many things but not the large detached family home with a “Vacant” sign out front. It looked like a regular family home, a place like the one Sam hoped to one day own. “Are you sure this is the place?” Sam asked. “Yeah.” Janet said as she checked her phone for the address Tom had sent her, “Come on.” Sam watched Janet step out of the car and reluctantly followed a few seconds later. As she walked alongside her friend up the path she started hearing music, it wasn’t loud enough to make neighbours complain but it was certainly audible down the path. Sam could feel herself getting increasingly nervous, she knew Tom as a laidback kind of guy and, apart from the drugs, Sam really didn’t have a problem with him. She had never visited him before though and she was starting to worry about what she would find inside the house. Janet rang the doorbell and after a couple of seconds the music dies down a little. Sam couldn’t see through the frosted window higher up the door but she could hear footsteps coming closer. She looked up at Janet and saw a look of confusion on her face which did little to make Sam feel more confident. The door opened quite rapidly and the man that stood in front of the two women almost made Sam gasp. The man’s face seemed pierced in every available place, he was shirtless but his chest and arms were covered in tattoos. He was smoking and his eyes were only half-opened, he swayed slightly as he tried to focus his eyes on the guests. “Hello?” Janet eventually said when the guy remained silent. “Hey.” The guy said in a gruff voice. “Erm… Is Tom here?” Janet asked. “Tom? Oh, yeah… He’s in the living room. Come on in.” The guy stumbled backwards to make room. Sam looked at Janet with concern but when Janet started walking in she felt she had no choice but to follow. She stepped over the threshold and was surprised that the interior of the house seemed completely normal. The hallways were all painted white and very clean, the juxtaposition with the man who opened the door couldn’t have been more pronounced. “Woah… No kids.” The man said as he blocked Sam. “She’s not a kid.” Janet replied as she looked around at the closed doors, “It’s a long story. Genetic defect stuff. She’s the same age as me.” “If you say so.” The guy said with obvious doubt, “Everyone is through that door.” Janet pushed open the door and stood in the doorway with Sam next to her. They both froze like statues as they looked into the living room, it was as if a bomb had exploded. The room was a wreck with holes in the walls, the lights in the ceiling hanging down or missing, a table was snapped in half, it looked exactly like what it was which was a squat. Tom was sitting on a couch cushion that had been tossed on the floor but he was far from alone. Sam could see eight people in various states of lucidity lying around and she was horrified to see how much alcohol and drug paraphernalia was scattered across the floor and surfaces. Sam and Janet had been expecting a laid out situation with Tom but what they got was a visage of Hell filled with hard drugs. “Yo, Janet.” Tom slurred when he eventually noticed the visitors, “Who’s the dwarf?” “Tom! What the fuck!?” Janet snapped as she stepped into the room, “Who are these people?” “Friends.” Tom said with a shrug. “Tom, there are needles here and… My God, you do this stuff?” Janet looked as shocked as Sam was. Sam suddenly felt even less safe than before and regretted ever leaving her bedroom. She wanted to call Janet back to leave but she couldn’t get her attention. Sam looked over her shoulder and saw a man and a woman stumbling down the stairs whilst only half-dressed. There were more people in the kitchen where the music seemed to be coming from. “Geez, calm down, it’s just a bit of fun.” Tom said as he sat up. Sam noticed he still has a belt tied around his upper arm. “I had no id-” Janet suddenly stopped when something outside the window caught her attention. Sam saw it too, the briefest flash of a blue light. Someone moved the net curtain slightly and Sam saw police cars pulling up outside. “Were you followed here?” Tom suddenly asked as his face drained of colour. “Oh shit…” Janet whispered, “The cops!”

First story pure smut. I apologize in advance for the bad grammar and punctuation! It was inspired by ABDL_Zexion1337's little witch picture. If I can get permission I will add the pic later. So I was out at a party last Halloween. Looking for my next quick fuck. Halloween was one of my favorite nights cause it was easy to spot the slutty girls as it was the one night of the year they could get away with dressing like a slut. I had gotten a bit of a reputation as I would say anything I had to to get the girls to fuck me and then would ghost them(pun intended). Well little did I know my life was about to change. I was drinking a beer and checking out who my next conquest was to be! This place wasn't my normal scene since not to brag but I had exhausted most of my normal haunts. And let's say the pickings were slim I thought the night might be a bust. But then I seen her a cute girl dressed as a witch. She hat a witches hat on and a cute orange shirt with ghost and such it was tight enough to show off her perky breasts and below that a little black skirt. Her outfit was more on the cute side than the normal slutty outfits I would normally target but the choker she wore around her neck screamed fuck me. Time to go to work I thought to my self as I purposely bumped into her causing her to spill her drink. I apologize and offended to buy her a new one wich she accepted. When I came back with her new drink I introduced my self and she told me her name was Scarlett. Things were going great we chatted and flirted back and forth and she insisted on buying me a drink when I finally accepted she happily scampered off and came back a few minutes later and put this insane looking drink infront of me. It was green and effervescent and bubbling. She told me it was a special Halloween drink and I would love it. So in the name of getting her in bed with me I tried it. And it was actually pretty good. After our drinks were finished I asked her if she wanted to go somewhere quieter and she agreed and grabbed her purse well it was more of a bag and said we could go back to her place as she was wet! I thought to my self fuck I'm good as I started to get hard thinking about what was gonna happen next. We took a Uber back to her place. It was a short ride where I did kiss her and it was electric. We kissed and groped each other all the way to her couch. And groping turned to heavy petting she grabbed my cock through my jeans and gave it a gentle squeeze. A little moan escaped my lips as my hand went under her skirt. I put my hand on what I assumed would be her panties but it didn't feel right I was expecting to feel damp panties instead they were dry but felt soft and squishy. I took my hand away and said what the fuck. Scarlett calmly replied what I told you I was wet as she pulled her skirt up. And what I assumed were her panties was infact the bottom of her ghost onesie that was practically bursting trying to hold back her very soggy diaper. I said fuck this stood up and said I'm out of here this shits to fucked. She waved her hand and said on your knees and I fell to my knees infront of her my face practically infront of her diaper. Freaked out I yelled what the fuck why can't I move. Again she flicked her wrist and said silence. I instantly couldn't make even a peep. She said let me explain what's going on. She said you see I am a witch and I heard about you from a few of my girl friends who you fucked and ditched. Well tonight that changes you see that "Halloween" drink I gave you was infact real wishes brew one I made up just for you. As I speak your body is changing becoming more femin you will become more like me she explained as she popped the snaps of her onesie and started to undo her very wet diaper. Once undone she let the front of it flop onto the couch cushion. Right infront of my face stood a 6 inch dick. My jaw dropped and she laughed and said no not yet. I quickly shut my mouth. With another quick hand jesture she said to stand and strip and as my body instantly followed her command I noticed my clothes were alot baggier than before and were practically falling off me as I easily pulled them off. I instantly noticed that gone were my big muscles I was now very slender and looking at my chest that had pec muscles that would make most guys jellous now had cute little b cup titties with big hard nipples as I looked lower my hips had grown much wider and more girly and my butt was well sexy if it was not on me! But what caused me to drop back to my knees of my own accord was my once 9 inch cock was now barely 1 inch. As tears ran down my cheeks she said don't be sad Terry I will help you with a little attitude adjustment. Now listen to me carefully untill you come see me next Halloween you are now Terri the cute little cock sucking sissy baby. You LOVE sucking cock it makes your tiny little little girl dick hard. And when you suck a cock while diapered as you swallow there tasty cum you will start to pee in your diaper but the hole time you pee it will feel like the most intense orgasm you have ever had. You will love it so much you will suck any and all dicks you can. You will be the best little cock sucker you can be all for the reward of wetting your cute little diapers. She waved her hand and said you are free to speak. I instantly asked in my new much more high pitched voice if I could please suck Scarlett's cock as I hungrily looked at it. Well I don't know are you sure you want to suck my pissy cock? I had a literal line of drule running down my chin as I nodded yes. I don't know she started as I began to beg her to teach me how to be a good little cock sucker. She finally agreed and coached me through the most magical experience in my life. My tiny little wee wee was hard the hole time and grew to 2 full inches. After a few minutes of doing what Scarlett instructed me to do I felt her cock get a little bigger in my mouth and it erupted string after string of wonderful cum into my mouth as I swallowed every last drop. I thanked her for letting me suck her pretty girl dick. Scarlett said let's get cleaned up and diapered. She proceeded to lay me down on a change mat she pulled out of what I know know is her diaper bag not her purse. And slid a big puffy pink rearz princess diaper under me. She powdered my and brought the front up and taped it tight. It felt heavenly soft. Once she got me up. She then layed on the mat and had me return the favor. It took all my will power to not end back up with her cute little dick back into her mouth. Once she was cleaned and rediapered she stated let's find you something to wear and go back out the night is still young. She dressed me in a cute little pink baby dress and we headed back to the bar. I sat with her at the table in the bar sucking on my pacifier as a couple of guys came and hit on us. One of the guys said you like sucking on your little pacifier little girl. I popped it out and said why do you have anything better for me to suck? He took my hand and let me to a booth in the back corner and I happily crawled under the table and hastily got his big treat he has for me. With all the tricks Scarlett taught me I had him blowing his load in my mouth in mear minutes. Being this was the second dick I sucked but the first I had while diapered. I started to pee as soon as I tasted the first of his salty load hit my tongue. I was practically screaming in pleasure around his erupting dick. It was the single greatest feeling I ever felt. Once I was done I went back to the table and sat down with a squish. I looked at Scarlett and said I know you said I would be like this for one year but can I stay this way for ever please I don't want to go back to being an icky man ever again. She smiled and said if I wanted to stay and be her play thing that might be possible and asked me if I had ever heard of a witches familiar before? But that's a story for another night for now I see alot more trick or treating that needs to be done after all this diaper is supposed to hold 1100ml I know right must be magic 😉

(I've been writing a new story using novelai. Most of the actual text is mine, as I've found that the ai software, needs alot of help.) I've currently written about 25,000 words and this is the first 4000.) It was early, or at least early enough for Las Vegas standards, 10 AM. It was late last night when Nick, Alley, Tom and Diane had all gone out together and had a couple of drinks. Nick says, "Guys I can't believe we are here, it's Vegas Baby!" They walk through the casino, the sounds of slot machines ringing. Diane says, "What are we doing today, what's first?" Nick says, "I think we should head over to the hotel and check in." Tom askes, "OK so when are we doing this VR thing, I'm really stoked to try it?" Alley follows behind, distracted as she is doing some searches on her i-tap and half her vision is filled with a list of girly boutiques she'd like to shop at. Diane and Tom are holding hands. Tom asks, "Hey are you coming with us?" Alley responds, "Uh, sure. We should do something first right, I mean isn't that why we came to Vegas?" Nick turns back and looks annoyed and says, "OK, so let me guess you want to go shopping?" Alley snaps out of her reverie and responds, "No, well I mean not yet, but it would be good to see some stores and then after the VR I'd like to check out some places. Diane checks the VR hotel on her i-tap and tells the group, "Guys its 10AM we can't even check in until 3PM and the VR doesn't start until 5PM, so we have plenty of time. Alley, where do you want to go?" Alley thinks about it for a moment and says, "Well there is a nice shopping area near the hotel called the Fashion District. I looked at a map and it seems to have some cool shops, plus I can grab some food. Nick gives Diane an annoyed look, and she responds with a sarcastic grin, "OK, yeah, that sounds good, you guys hit up Fashion District and Tom and I will go the sci-fi museum, right buddy?" Tom says, "Uh, Yeah I guess that sounds fine. Alley you have a map in your i-tap?" Alley nods yes. As they get to the main entrance of the casino and step out onto the hot Las Vegas day and see a massive crowd of people. There are signs for a concert at the hotel, a massive pop-star, the music can be heard even where they are. Tom says, "Wow, it's busy." "OK, lets meet up at 1 PM for some food, how about a Chinese buffet?" Diane asks. Nick responds, "Sounds good, see you later guys." Alley and Diane, walk off towards the Fashion District, while Nick calls an uber with his i-tap. "Dude, look at that old guy over there with the phone, wow, even here in Vegas there are old fashioned people." Nick says as he points at the man with the phone. "Oh yeah, that's crazy, I wonder how old he is?" Tom responds. "He has to be like 45 or something, what a dinosaur. Hey, check it out, that's our ride," Nick points to a red car and the two men jump in. *** Later that evening. Nick, Tom and Alley and Diane, have completed their check-in at the VR hotel, and are walking to the intake center. The place is mostly empty as a majority of the clients purchase short 2 or 3 hour sessions during the day and not the expensive overnight session that Nick has purchased. The group had been arguing for an hour about which simulation to enter. Nick stops and turns to Diane, "I'm just saying, you picked that restaurant and it was horrible, so why don't you just let me pick the simulation." Alley adds, "I liked the restaurant, I'm sorry that you didn't. Anyway, I don't know why you guys are fighting, the fact is Tom and I don't have an opinion and which simulation we do, as long as it's not too violent or confusing. So just make up your minds." "I just think we should try a star wars, where we can fly star ships, and stuff," Nick says. Tom adds, "Yeah, but we could just watch the movies, it would be alot cheaper.” “Bro, I told you my Dad hooked us up, he’s like a shareholder or something, don’t worry.” Diane said, “I'm sure you would prefer some Science Fiction nonsense, but Alley and I would prefer Rivendell." "I don't care, it's your decision." Alley said. The group enters into the VR lobby, it's a stark white environment, like a medical office. A middle aged woman is behind the counter smiling. She is wearing a stark white uniform and smiles professionally as the younger group walks up to the counter arguing. "Hello, welcome to AVR, my name is Jennifer, and I will be your technician for today's experience, please state your name and reservation code." Nick, still annoyed, says, "Hi Jennifer, I'm Nick, umm. I don't have my code." Jennifer professionally hides the annoyance from her voice, "Can you check your email on your i-tap sir, the confirmation code will be there." "Look, I'm Nick Lutz, and I've signed up and paid for a group session for 4. Here are the 4 of us, can't you just look up my name or something." "Yes sir, Mr. Lutz. Please give me one minute to look up your reservation." Alley steps up, "Hi Jennifer, can I ask a quick question? We can't seem to agree on the simulation, I'd like a fantasy simulation and he," Alley points at Nick, would like to do Star Wars. Jennifer is distracted by the question while trying to look up Nick's information. She finds herself growing more annoyed at these rude young people. "Excuse me ma'am, I need a minute to find the reservation. Then I'll be happy to answer." Another technician who had been listening in, steps forward and says, "Hi, my name is David and I'm the manager on duty, I'd be happy to answer your question." "Yes, David, thank you. Some of us want to do a fantasy simulation and the guys would prefer something in the Sci-Fi genre, any chance we could do both?" Diane asks. David answers, "Actually, we have a special today, if you purchase 4 sessions. Oh wait, no you paid for the group discount, you have to all do the same simulation. I'm sorry. These sims use tremendous computing power. You would not believe the electricity and heat load of this place. Sorry, we can't offer two." Tom adds, "How much would it cost to do two?" David smiles, "Well, the 12 hour hour package you’ve already paid for would be $1000." Tom feels his throat gulp, "Oh, umm... yeah that's alot of money." "OK I have your reservation here sir, but I still need that confirmation code for security purposes." Jennifer says. "Geeze, fine," Nick says and uses his i-tap to fill his vision with his email account, he finds the message from AVR and reads off the 6 digit code to Jennifer." Jennifer types the code and then says, "I have you and 3 others, can I have their names?" "Alley, Diane and Tom," Nick responds. "OK, looks like the decision is already made, the science fiction simulation has already been selected when the reservation was made." "You mean we've been arguing about this for an hour and you already made the decision!" Diane yells at Nick. Nick responds, "Whatever, I can't be held responsible, I asked what you wanted and you didn't respond, so I made a decision. Listen Jennifer, my friends are being idiots and my girlfriend would rather do Rivendell, whatever the hell that is, so just change it.” “I’m sorry sir, I can’t it’s already loaded, there will be a substantial delay,” Jennifer said. "Guys, calm down. OK, I'm ready for space ships or whatever." Alley says. David gives Jennifer a stern look, "Guess you’re off the hook, You think you can handle it from here?" he asks. "Yes, David, no problem. Please continue." Jennifer says. Nick is looking annoyed again, and David notices, and says, "You'll have a good time, the system is fantastic, and I guarantee you won't know you are inside the simulation. Jenn, I'm heading out for the night, I trust you'll take good care of these folks." David says and exits the room. "Thanks, David. Yes, sir, I'll take good care of them." Jennifer says and the group all notice a hint of sarcasm. "OK, please follow me," Jennifer leads the group into a side door with modern smoky glass windows. There is a conference table and comfy chairs, "Please have a seat." "Now, a few questions first, how many of you are virgins to Advanced VR?" Alley, Tom and Diane all raise their hands. "Ok, you're not alone, VR has come a long way since the days of goggles, and now thanks to the i-tap our system can connect directly with your senses and provide a very vivid dream-like experience. So, the only way to truly experience this is to do so. Just remember that while things will seem very real to you, they are not real. For instance you may get hit with a stormtrooper blaster, and you'll feel a sting, but you're not really hurt. The simulation will also make sure that you don't die." "What if I jump off a cliff?" Diane asks. "If the simulation allows it, you'll jump off a cliff. And if you would die from a fall, you won't, instead you'll just have a rough landing, maybe feel a bit shook up," Jennifer answers. "OK, I think we get it, can we start now?" Nick asks. "Of course, but because you've paid for a premium overnight simulation, there is the matter of protection." "What do you mean by protection?" Tom asks. "Well, in order for the VR experience to be authentic, the body will react the way it normally would, and so in order to preserve the authenticity of the experience, you will need protection." "What kind of protection?" Alley asks. "We have a variety, in the restrooms you will find shelves with pull on and tabbed briefs of different sizes and absorbencies, I recommend the thicker ones for an overnight experience." Jennifer explains. "You mean like diapers?" Tom asks. Jennifer smiles, "Yes, they're not really diapers, but they work similarly. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." "I'm Tom and there is no way I'm wearing a diaper," he says. Jennifer's face becomes stern, "Did any of you not even read a brochure, or look us up online, the overnight experience makes it clear that you will have to wear protection.” “I didn’t read that, no one told me,” Tom said. “Sir, this is the standard procedure. You signed an agreement, if you can't do it, you will not be able to participate in the simulation." Diane is annoyed and says, "Let's get this started." "Nick you didn't say anything about diapers, and you said you did this before?" Alley asks. "Umm, I just did a one hour session, but the website said nothing about diapers." "It's there, you just didn't read it, Sir," Jennifer says, "I'm sorry, I need a verbal agreement from everyone, or we will not start." Nick is clearly annoyed, "Fine, whatever." "Great, go on and get changed, make sure you have a bowel movement if you need to and after you've put on your briefs leave your clothes in the cubicles and put on the robes. I'm working overnight, and part of my job is to monitor your health, so if I find you need changed I'll take care of that. Also if I find out that you've not put on your brief, I'll just put one on you." "Wow, this is a little embarrassing," Alley says. Nick adds, "I know, but its worth it, I did it before and it's amazing." The guys and girls split off to the men's and women's room to change. Tom walks in the Men's Room and looks around, he sees a shelf with 20 or so adult briefs, and they are not what he expected. Instead of being a diaper with tapes, they are like the kind of underwear you would wear as a child, they just slide up and even feel like cloth. "This isn't so bad I guess," he says. He quickly puts on his brief and walks out. . Alley enters the women's room and is shocked. She was expecting a bunch of diapers, but the shelves have a large variety of styles. The briefs are just like the ones the men are using. "This is pretty weird, but I'll give it a try." She removes her clothing and slides on the brief, "Wow, this feels a little weird, and why did they have to make the print pink," she says. "Oh, come on, pink is your favorite color, you're the most girly girl I know," Diane replies. "True," Alley says from her stall as she slides the brief up her legs and ties the robe on. The group meets back up in the conference room and Jennifer nodes in approval. "OK guys, let me show you the next step, follow me." Jennifer leads the group into a room with four medical style beds, beside each bed is a high tech plastic device on wheels with a digital readout. The room is stark white, perfectly clean and modern. Each of the plastic machines has a thick cord of cables that all run into a computer in the corner of the room. "Please lie down on the bed." Jennifer instructs. Nick and Tom and the girls climb up onto the beds and Jennifer places the device over them and attaches a number of leads to their heads. That interact with the subdermally implanted i-tap devices. Each device had a band that wrapped around their forearm connected with a cable. "You'll feel a tiny bit of pain." She said as a small needle in the band punctured a vein and injected sedatives. For the 12 hour sessions clients would be given a continuous stream of light sedatives, fluids, and sugar. "Now, there are a couple things that you need to know, first off, once I turn on the machine and you enter the simulation, you will not be able to see me. It is extremely important that if you feel a sense of distress or panic, and need help, you just relax. Your simulations are so real that once you enter you won't be able to leave. In fact, you won't even remember you're in a simulation. But you have a safety switch, if you say 'help Jennifer' your simulation will stop and I'll come and talk you through. Just relax and try not to panic, and remember "Help Jennifer." "Wait, is this safe?" Diane asks. "100 percent safe. Now, let's begin. Remember, if you need help, say 'Help Jennifer,' and I'll be there. You're going to be asked to confirm that you are entering AVR and giving consent for our systems to interact with your i-taps. Once that happens the machine will administer a light sedative to help you enter a dream-like state where the simulation takes over." "Can't you just send us directly into the simulation," Tom asks. "That's the next generation of AVR, which is not ready yet. Just click OK, when prompted." Alley see's a wall of text in her vision that replaces the white plastic device hovering above her head. Her AI assistant assures her it's just a standard agreement so she focuses on the OK button and clicks yes. A red light on the plastic device over her head turns green. Soon everyone's devices are green. "Now, it's going to feel like you are drifting off to sleep, don't be alarmed, everything is fine." Jennifer says. Nick closes his eyes, and soon his breathing is steady, and he is asleep, a few minutes later everyone is out. "Geez what a bunch of spoiled brats," Jennifer says. "You know it is my last day here, I could teach these kids a lesson." she continues. She checks their vitals on her tablet and they are all fine. Jennifer goes over the computer which has the Science Fiction simulation loaded. She enters a password that she's seen David use several times and brings up the program index and goes to the kink simulations. As she looks through the list her eyes settle on the most humiliating one in their catalog. Jennifer goes in to adjust some of the settings. "Yeah Nick, you were the biggest jerk, and Alley, you seemed nice enough. "You guys are going to hate this," Jennifer says and chuckles then uses the mouse to click Start simulation sending the group into the "Naughty Nursery" program. Diane is rudely awakened by someone placing zip tie cuffs on her arms. She feels the sensors being yanked off her body and is jerked up. She looks around and sees the same thing is happening to Nick, Tom and Alley. "Wait, what the hell is this," Diane yells. A large muscular man is holding her zip ties. "Hush now baby, just relax, Big Daddy is here to take care of you" He says. "Look, I'm an adult, what is going on?" The man laughs, "You were an adult, not any more, the Mistress will fix that." He produces a large metal syringe and pushes the plunger. Diane feels her muscles loosen. She see's Tom try to knock his attacker's syringe away, but his arm doesn't move, and the injection is administered. "I don't understand, what are you doing to us?" Alley asks as she begins to lose consciousness. "Just take a nap," the orderly says and Diane feels herself drifting down. "I've got a special surprise for you Nick," Big Daddy says and pulls out a larger 3 inch needle, "It's a special cocktail, guaranteed to make you a pussy." The orderly holding Nick laughs and he is injected with the special cocktail. Nick is confused as his muscles go limp. He tries to resist but can't and as he's falling asleep. Everything turns black. "Guys, I think I had a bad trip, where are we," Nick says as he sits up in the crib, but something isn't right. Tom and Alley are still wake, and then realize they are sitting up in a giant baby crib.. As Nick's vision clears he is in disbelief at what they are wearing, Diane is wearing stretchy girls sleeper pajamas with rainbows and unicorn print, it's obvious she is wearing a thick diaper underneath. Tom has a t-shirt with a cute truck and a name, he lsqunts and reads, "Tomy. on his shirt. His diaper is out in the open and is an exact replica of a baby diaper complete with sesame street characters. "Where is Alley?" Nick asked. Diane looks around the crib and sees a small toy mirror attached to the bars, she looks and is mortified, "No, No what am I wearing, NO." Tom finally is able to sit up, and notices his diaper and looks around, and says, "Nick, what the fuck is this, where are we, and where is Alley?" "I don't know, but it seems like a nightmare, what the hell was in those shots," Nick answers. "I thought I was in a VR Simulation," Diane says. "Me too, I think we're all dreaming, this isn't real," Tom says. "Well I sure as hell hope it isn't real have you seen what you're wearing?" Tom asks. "I'd rather not," Nick says, but he looks in the mirror and sees he is wearing a very sissy blue and pink plastic bubble romper. Embroidered in the front of the chest it says 'Sissy' in flowing letters. "What the fuck is this shit?" "Yeah, this place looks like a nursery, and we're the babies" Tom says. Diane is freaking out, "What's wrong with you guys, look at this," She points at the diaper that is stretching her sleeper pajamas out. Tom tries to comfort Diane, "Hey, its ok, maybe they just loaded the wrong simulation?" "Nick, is that a pacifier clipped to your outfit?" Diane asks. Nick realizes he has a clip on pacifier, and reaches for it. He tries to yank it off, but it's clipped on, he removes the clip but it seems much more difficult than it should have been. "Damn it," Nick says. "Nick, I think you need this," Tom says. Nick ignores Tom and throws the pacifier across the room. "Ok, let's see if there is a way out," Nick says and looks over the bars of his crib. He stands up on the soft bedding and tries to pull himself over the bars of the crib. This should be easy for an athlete like Nick, but he can't seem to get a grip and pull himself up. "Shit, my muscles must still be out, come on help me over the bars," Nick says to Tom. "Ok," Tom says. Tom tries to lift Nick over the bars, and after a lot of struggling they are unable. "Umm, guys, we're different, my strength is way down," Tom says. "It's the drugs, just relax, let's not panic, we're probably still dreaming." "Maybe it's not a dream," Diane says. "Look at your arms, there is no hair on them," Diane says. The two men look at their arms, and their legs and sure enough their bodies have become more youthful. "That's strange, but let's not worry about that now," Nick says. "Oh and Nick, your hair is kind of feminine, it's a little longer and cute looking. And Tom, yours is longer but in a little boy way, its cute," Diane says. Nick and Tom are in shock and both look at each other and then their hair, but they are interrupted. "OK, I'm done with this shit," Nick says and tries to rip off the plastic romper he is wearing, but his strength is not what it was; the fabric stretches, and he can't tear the outfit off. He sees the the romper is snapped around his legs but it's held on with little locks. "What the fuck is going on!" Nick yells in frustration. "Guys, I don't think this is a simulation, this is real," Diane says. "Well whatever is going on I'm not playing." Tom eventually gets under a blanket. and pulls the diaper off down his legs. He wraps the blanket around his waist. "You're right, why don't we just wake up from this crazy nightmare and get the hell out of here," Tom says. "That's a great idea," Diane says. "Oh I remember, Help Jennifer," Diane says, but nothing happens. "That's right, help Jennifer." Nick repeats and again nothing happens. "Guys I don't think this is a simulation, I don't remember the one I did feel this real, and the last thing I remember is entering a room and falling asleep, maybe we were drugged." "This isn't possible, we were in a simulation center, how can we have been drugged?" Tom asks. "You guys, did you see those big needles they injected into our arms, what did they give us?" Diane says. "They had to have been huge," Nick says. "I wonder where Alley is?" he asks. "I don't know, let's look for her," Tom says and they all begin to crawl around the crib, which is filled with baby toys, soft pillows and blankets. "I'm worried about Alley," Nick says, and then looks at Diane, "Diane, did you see what happened to Alley?" Nick asks. "The same thing that happened to us, but she's not here," Diane says. "I wonder if this is some sort of sick game, do you think someone is trying to get revenge?" Tom asks. "Maybe that bitch Jennifer sold us out," Nick says. "You mean the nice lady that ran the simulation, why would she do that, we didn't know her?" Diane asks. "I don't know, let's just figure a way out of here."

A/N: IMPORTANT TO NOTICE Hey all! I hope you're all doing well! Do not worry! I am still working on my other stories but had started this a while ago and felt like I should post it! Just a warning in the beginning that this story will contain a lot of non-con, sexual content and humiliation. If this makes you uncomfortable than I suggest you don't read it! I love seeing comments so I'd love to see everyone's comments! ooOoo Summary: When a young new independent journalist decides to write about something other than the typical run of the mill stories, she is introduced into a new life, just not in the way she expected. ooOoo Chapter 1: MommyslittleBiggurls.com 22 December 2021 Hello Friends! It sure has been a while! I hope you’re all doing well on this frosty morning. Here in Montana, we’re certainly going to have a white Christmas. Sugar and Cookie sure are excited to see Santa and have been extra careful to be good girls; always asking for the potty like good little girls, eating all of their veggies at dinner and making sure to drink all of their babas full of yummy milk! I’m sure you all are experiencing the same with your little ones at the moment, even the disobedient can’t ignore the happy cheer of Christmas. I really can’t believe it’s only been three months since we first adopted our newest little girl, Honey! Of course with new littles, it’s always an adventure and Sugar and Cookie are being the best big sisters they can be! It can be hard, especially around the holidays to deal with an un-regressed, naughty little so that brings me to the topic of today’s post: Punishments. If you're like me or are a new caregiver, it’s never easy training a new little and before they can be our sweet little babies, they will be literal demons! It is never fun but in order to nip that naughty behavior in the bum, punishment is required and it is not always as simple as quick spanking. Listed below, you will find three different punishments to try if you, like me, were at a loss. Punishments: Punishment 1: Corner time with a twist Depending on the severity of the naughty behavior, instruct your little one it's corner time for a certain amount of time. While many, if not all, will just find this incredibly boring and whine, there is a small twist. Listen carefully to these five steps: Take littles’ clothes away (that means no diapers/pullups/or undies as well!), Give a nice soapy cold enema to their bum-bum and insert a buttplug to ensure no dribbles Administer a firm spanking (I’ve found different objects such as a belt or hairbrush to be most effective!) Little will bend down or kneel in the corner with their bum-bum high in the air for everyone to see After a certain amount of time, if the little has not moved from their position, you will instruct the little to tell you what they did wrong and have them beg to release their bodily functions. If you are unsatisfied with their response, even more minutes will be added to corner time Punishment 2: Potty Time with Horsy Let’s get real, we’ve all struggled with littles refusing to go potty in their diapers or on the training toilet and it’s a pain to have to insert enemas and suppositories into screaming littles. That’s how I came up with horsy time. The rocking horse, while meant to be an object of amusement during playtime, can just as quickly be turned into an object of torture. What you need to do is listed below: The little will sit on the rocking horse in only their bottoms, whether that be a diaper or pull-up Place earphones on little and set to the wet diaper hypnosis Instruct the little to rock back and forth and do not stop no matter what and not to mess or wet themselves Plan a certain amount of time and come back when the time is up If the little is still rocking and is dry, they have earned the privilege to go potty. If not, horsy time is extended and the dirty diaper stays on another several hours The constant rhythmic motion combined with hypnosis at the same timing will put the littles right in the mood to have to relieve themselves. How they do it will no longer matter. The added pressure to keep a constant rocking in order to avoid further punishment will take a heavy toll on their mind as well and increase the need for positive behavior. Punishment 3: No Playtime with Teddy If you choose to allow your little to have any sexual release, this punishment can have a rewarding effect. As a human race, we are sexual beings but not everyone deserves or should have such an experience. Littles have gotten it into their minds that they should be allowed to have such experiences, but what do they know? They’re just littles. It is our job as caretakers to instruct and control their urges. If we leave them to their own devices, who knows what will happen? My little girls are allowed one play session a week with Mr. Teddy Bear to release all of their icky cummies by the hand of mommy and daddy. While Rosie and Cookie know being a good girl will lead to happy feelings, Honey is still learning. Orgasm and cum denial or “the tickles and ice cream dance” as we call it, are an excellent way to assert dominance and make them quickly realize who the real grownups are and who is in charge. Mittens or restraints are a must for untrained littles! You never know where their wandering hands will end up! Chastity belts are also a great device, especially if they get a little too excited during playtime and try humping (which is extremely discouraged!) IMPORTANT: It is important to enforce anything sexual is not allowed without the approval, observation, and act by grown-ups because you never know when littles might accidentally injure themselves! I hope you all enjoyed my little list and hopefully it helps you on your journey to having a regressed little! It may seem tough at times but we’ve all gone through it before (I currently am!) Stay tuned for next time and meanwhile, have a Merry Christmas! Love, Mommy Bree ooOoo The sound of the ding signaling the post had been successfully posted was a happy feeling to say the least. Unknown outside the world of ageplay, Bree Hawthorne was as famous as could be within the community. With over ten thousand followers and readers, people tuned in from all over the world to read about their simple little family. Being a blogger on top of a mommy had become her full time job and she didn’t regret a single second of it. She always knew she wanted to have a family and her love for blogging couldn’t have been a more perfect combination. There were so many who envied to fill the role of a Hawthorne little but only so few could actually meet the requirements. That’s why they had taken to unique means of obtaining their little girls. Kidnapping was a bit too harsh a term. They preferred adoption. Did the public need to know that? No. Would they ever find out? Probably not. Looking around outside the large glass windows, the only view for miles was farmland with snow capped mountains in the background. Bloomington, Montana was the perfect place to go to if one didn’t want to be found. They had the freedom to be who they were without any nosey neighbors disrupting their lives. Her husband, coming from old money, allowed them to own lavish homes around the country, buy the newest high-tech adult-baby equipment and pay off those they needed to stay quiet. Everything was as it should be. Everything would soon be perfect. They were our babydolls. Sugar, Cookie, Honey and- “Another post?” Jasper. At the sound of his deep voice, she spun around in the swivel chair. Face to face with her blonde, strong-jawed, blue eyed handsome husband. He was everything she dreamed of in a man. Strong, smart, caring, loyal. A great daddy to their three wonderful girls. What more could a person ask of a spouse? “Yes. I’ve finished just in time for… lunch!” she exclaimed, glancing at the time and shutting down the macbook. “Today’s post was about punishments and I gave the best examples of Honey. How is she doing this morning actually? The baby monitor on her end has been awfully quiet.” she asked, having been in the office the entire morning working. “Sleeping.” was his only response, scowling with his hand over his face. “Do I want to know what happened?” “No.” It was always a struggle to tame the girl and her rebellious behavior and silly dreams. Most often then not her bum was black and blue, littered with marks and bruises. How a five foot, one-hundred-twenty pound girl with not an ounce of body fat had managed to give them this much a fight, they did not know. While the little blonde fought they pushed back just as hard. She would break eventually. They all do. “Sugar and Cookie are in the playpen writing letters to Santa,” that made them crack a smile. “I can feed them while you handle, Honey? I may just take her over my knee again and that’s not what she needs at the moment.” Bree reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck as his face burrowed into her kinky black hair, placing a trail of kisses upon her chocolate colored skin. “So it’s my turn to play the bad mommy,” she mused. “Precisely.” her husband cracked a smile. “It feels so much longer than three months since we got her. Remember?” Oh, how could they forget…

Short Story Five seconds… Eyes wide, she shook her head, desperately pleading with the clock to speed up or to break or miraculously just disappear. Four… Tears burst from her eyes, dribbling down her cheeks mixed in with her running snot. It was supposed to be right this time, she was supposed to be free! She was a big girl! Really she was! If only she could just convince her. Now, crawling around the room, her bum wiggling in the air, she was aware of how ridiculous she looked. Hell, she was practically humping the carpet. Libby didn’t think she was going to make it. The potty sat over there against the wall- pink and sparkly and locked up with the stupid chain. Three seconds now. Her face crumpled, unable to stop the flow of tears as she pleaded to whatever God up there not to let her fail. If she could hold it just a few more seconds then this would all be over. But Libby already knew it was too late. Having held it in since lunch, she drank from her bottle every hour like a good girl, gaining hundreds of streamers and bringing in the money acting like the little baby everyone wanted her to be. Three months, she had been stuck here in this oversized nursery fit for an adult sized baby. Sickeningly pink and filled to the brim with frilly outfits and dolls and toys, it would be an actual child’s dream room. However for her, it had quickly become a never-ending nightmare. Back in October, she’d seen the beautiful woman at the bar and Libby had been the hooker, just looking for an extra buck or two. Libby had spotted her a mile away, flashing her Cartier watch nursing a glass of red wine. Lean body, olive skin, and dark cascading hair… everything about her screamed money! Italian! At the time, she’d thought it strange how such a beautiful woman could be so alone. But that’s exactly what she’d been hoping for and Libby was been stupid enough to fall for her trap. Absolutely smashed off her face that night, easily she went home with her. They had sex, she demanded the money - which she almost got - but then she didn’t. With her panties on the ground, kneeling over her on all fours, the woman hadn’t even felt her bladder loosen until a warm pool of liquid had formed beneath the two of them. Surprisingly the woman wasn’t mad and that’s what confused her. Her comforter was probably worth hundreds by the looks of it. Libby told her to keep the money for the mess she’d caused, eager to get away, but the woman had had a different proposal- one, if she’d been in her right mind - would have turned down. Heck, she didn’t even know her name… and still didn’t. Now, staring at the timer, with one second left, it was all over. The floodgate opened. Starting with a few tiny dribbles, it just became heavier until she couldn’t even attempt to hold it in. She was so close! The timer went off and the camera blinked red, the invisible audience watching in silent anticipation. They could see her but she could not see them. Libby had become all too used to the feel of her hot piss splashing and filling up the absorbent padding. Squatting with her legs spread at the camera, it not only gave the best view to the viewers but was the most comfortable. This way it wouldn’t splash up her back or leak from the sides. It was embarrassing she even knew that but if she wanted to stay sane, the girl had to do whatever she could to survive. Now, hanging her head in shame, the sudden flood of dings throughout the room was music to her ears. It was the sound of money rolling in. People paying to see her debased and humiliated like this. Everyday there were different requests that people would pay hundreds, sometimes even thousands to see her do. If she was able to follow through, that meant treats were in order. However some tasks were meant to be impossible yet that didn’t mean she still didn’t try. Mommy promised once she paid back her debt for peeing in her bed and was able to go a whole day without wetting and messing her diaper, they could talk about letting her go. The girl welcomed the money and the embarrassment if it meant freedom in the end. But of course, once again, she’d failed. Libby knew though that she had, stupidly and drunkenly, agreed to this on her own free will. Who was she to complain? ooOoo “Muffin top, were you a good girl for Mommy and all of her friends?” It wasn’t even a moment later she heard the jingling of keys and the beeps of the code on the other side of the door. Mommy was always watching and waiting and ready to step in at every moment. She was a famous live-streamer, Libby had come to find out, and popular in the fetish world- was that even the right term to use? “Mommy!” She whined in a light and airy tone. Her voice had taken on a new timbre, becoming delicate, weak, young. She’d perfected the voice so much, always talking in it, she wasn’t even sure if she could go back to her old one. There were eyes and ears everywhere and she could not afford to break the role or else Mommy would tan her hide faster than she can blink. Lifting her arms, smiling painfully bright, she’d mastered just what the woman wanted and if she wanted to get out of this soaked diaper, she’d act her damn ass off. “Mommy wet!” She squealed. Popping the pink sparkly paci into her mouth from off the ground, suckling obediently, she didn’t fight the intruding fingers poking down the back and sides of her diaper. “Oh, yes you are! Was my little cupcake not able to hold her pee pee for the potty? You know you get potty time every several hours. You aren’t supposed to actually use your diapees, silly!” She bopped her on the nose. Her face burned red, stomach churning in humiliation at this beautiful woman dressed in a skin tight black dress and perfectly curled hair. Blue eyes sparkling in amusement, she knew exactly what she was thinking. Why would any beautiful woman like her go for a naked diapered adult baby who couldn't even hold in her own pee? Mommy called her Muffin Top because her belly was like a, well, muffin top, pooling over. It grew bigger everyday as did her thighs grow in thickness and face turn round. She used to be skinny. She used to have a body to kill for that any woman would chase after. Now? She was just her mommy’s little Muffin Top. What good would that get her in life? She couldn’t help the tears, as they started up once again and Mommy loved the tears. “Oh, baby,” she cooed, lifting her from the soft carpet cradled in her arms. Her hand cupped her bottom, every squeeze emitting a loud and wet squelch. “Mommy knows how hard it is trying to be a big girl but some people are meant to be little. Some people are meant to use their diapees and wait for their mommy for changes. Isn’t that right, baby?” “No!” She whined. “Big giwl! I, a big giwl!” With her face pressed against her large soft bosoms, in all honesty, she didn’t feel very big at the moment. Throwing a tantrum would get plenty of money from those watching (everyone loved a brat) but that’s not what she thought about. Turning and tossing her head, blonde pigtails swinging every way, Mommy could only giggle, watching the over-grown child prove her points exactly. Slapping her tender thigh, admiring the jiggle, immediately that caught the attention of the Little. Cringing at the painful sting, only then did she quiet down. “Answer me this baby.” She enquired. “Do big girls have tantrums? Do they wet themselves in a diaper? Do they crawl around naked suckling on a binky?” It was all rhetorical and the diapered girl had no rational response. “Since the baby has proven she’s too little to wait for the potty, I think it’s best she stays in diapers for the time being.” The only reason Libby could never hold in her pee pee was that she was always loaded up on bottles and mommy liked to change potty time and make her squirm. There were always some obstacles designed for her to fail. It just wasn’t fair! While she’d stupidly agreed to this, she felt herself begin to slip more and more everyday, forgetting that she’s not actually a baby. It was all pretend. Fake. She was an adult. Twenty-eight years old. College graduate. She did not need a stuffed elephant to help her fall asleep and she did not enjoy suckling on her strawberry flavored paci or getting dressed in pretty clothes with matching dolls with matching diapers. Don’t even get her started on the lack of control, putting on a show like a circus animal for thousands of internet people! “There’s no need for tears, sweetie.” A hand patted her back, bouncing her up and down. She suckled, quickly and rhymically taking too much comfort in the silicone object. “Now, you’ve gone tinkle but no stinkys! No diaper change is set without number one and number two, and by the size of your big belly,” she couldn’t help but jiggle her milk-filled pouch, “someone’s got a big poo to get out! Can you do that for mommy?” Did she even have a choice? The girl could only blink with tired eyes, her stomach actually feeling familiarly hard. “User Sissyboy and User Twinkletoes have bet five hundred dollars that little Libby can’t handle three enemas! Let’s see whose right, hmm? Can you go poo poo for mommy? For the streamers? Be a good girl, oh yes you can! You’re mommy’s stinky girl!” Placed on the changing table, her legs kicked out spastically. Involuntary laughter burst from her chest - high pitched giggles - as strawberries were blown on her pudgy tummy and Libby knew, at this rate she’d never be out of diapers. OoOoo A/N: I just thought I would post a short story in the meantime between writing the other stories. I know I’m so slow with updating so I just wanted to give a little something extra

Contest link This is my entry to the contest. I'm working on defining this world a bit more. This would be the first story in its universe that I've posted. I like the non fantastical side of things. I want someone to be able to read it like it could actually happen to them. Anyway I hope people like it, whether it gets anywhere or not is not that big to me. How did I end up here?-Non Contest How did I end up here? Seriously?!?! Her hand on my padded rear, My head cradled in her arm. Laying across her lap with her boob in my mouth. Warm milk going down my throat. my mind wandered and i began to think on how I got here. —------------- My sign read "Don't report, just give me a buck, I'll be fine in a month." It wasn't so neat or so precise. It had been scrawled with a marker and some cardboard. I had written it a month ago. Best laid plans often go awry if you don't have ways to handle the unknowns in life. That's exactly what had led me to this moment. Maybe I should have seen it coming but well, I hadn't cared to be honest. A job was just a job, and if I lost one I'd just get another, I had done it 10, 15? I'd lost count how many times I had switched careers. This time the office had sent a LoGger to check on me. She had come in, done her due diligence and decided I wasn't worth her time. Maybe I just smooth talked my way out of it, maybe she was disgusted, who knew? More so who cared? In hindsight, I think she may have done something though. My newest job hunt went down the pooper. Job after job had just turned me away with no excuses. With the government and economy the way they were a job was almost guaranteed, so it had been troubling when the bills came in and I eventually got evicted. Now I was on the roadside begging for anything, dodging LoGgers as best I could. In the end they had found me, it was the same one that had been in my apartment. You could only hide so long in this city. It was one of the founding cities. They didn't have a uniform and couldn't always be easily seen coming. "You can leave the sign, let's go get you a warm meal and we will go from there." Was all the brunette had offered when she walked up. Her tight business skirt and loose blouse said she meant business. I knew I'd been caught, but maybe, just maybe I could talk my way out of it. After the meal, that is, I hadn't eaten in 2 days. She had taken me to a large apartment complex. Then to a special elevator which required a key. It had only one button. I knew then I was in trouble, but there was no running away now. When we arrived on the floor the elevator went to, the doors opened to a doctor's office waiting room. "Wait here, I'll have an escort get you cleaned up, in the meantime I'll get you a nice hot meal." My stomach was growling at the prospect. She left through one of the side doors and soon another plain Jane woman came back through. "All right, the orders are; all clean, shirt and shorts. Are you ready?" She held a hand out for me like she might a child. Expectantly waiting for me she smiled in a kind way. "I'm guessing she doesn't want a dirty companion for lunch? Why are you being so nice?" Taking my hand, "I'll answer all your questions as we walk. Firstly, you need a shower, you do stink. You've been on the streets for a month and 3 days now. Secondly, we like to be nice, it's when you aren't nice, we become the 'monsters' you all make us out to be." She was guiding me into another doorway. As we walked through it I continued to ask questions, "that's an oddly specific amount of time. How do you know that?" She never broke her stride. "Do you think we stopped watching you? You were already on a downward slope. The Lady that brought you in, well let's just say, she takes her time. She is very good at what she does and always gets her mark but she is not the fastest. Lucky for you though, she has taken special interest in you." I didn't feel very lucky, but I knew to keep my mouth out of it. Any negative emotions could likely ruin everything. We ended up in a room with a shower and a toilet, there were a few cabinets that had locks on them. It was tile on the floor and walls, a soft grayish blue hint to them that left you feeling sterile. It wasn't a comfortable place, it had an obvious purpose, clean those the Ladies of Guidance had decided needed guidance. "First let's get those clothes off. And get you in the shower. Arms up!" I was too stunned to stop her as she hauled my shirt over my head. "Well done! Such a good boy!" That was a little condescending, I expected as much from a LoGger though. "Now don't fight me on the pants, it's time for a shower." She never hesitated and dropped my drawers before I could even resist her. I had lost enough weight that my pants were falling off anyway, so they simply slipped off, underwear and all. "H H HEY, wait a second!" She only looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Remember I'm only nice as long as you are, and bets are with your weakend state I could take you physically. I know you haven't eaten in 2 days. Let's be quick so you can get to that meal." As much as I hated it, she was probably right. My stomach was agreeing with her as well. It seemed like everyone and everything was arguing against me. I swore to myself I wasn't going to end up in her care. That LoGger was going to have to deal with missing one goal. Holding one hand over my unmentionables I stood there with my pants around my ankles. "I've seen enough of those that you shouldn't worry about it. Also, not half bad." The compliment served to make me blush to my ears. I felt like a child at the same time a piece of meat. "Don't worry I don't date boys, only men.' "That's not helping." I said it before I had really thought about it. "Oh, is the cute stinky boy embarrassed? You are so adorable! Let's get you cleaned up." She started the shower and I felt the warmth from it almost immediately. I had to admit it was going to feel good. "Leave the pants. You won't need them anymore." She stated it like I was never going to wear them again. She collected them and put them in a cabinet. "Shy boys are only cute until they stop listening, let's go, your food will get cold. I just got the notice that it was being delivered soon." She was trying to entice me to obey. Right now I was motivated but it was drawing me closer to the dreaded conclusion. I was going to have to be fast when the time came. Smart and crafty too. Stepping under the water it was hot at the touch but began to feel good almost immediately, "now let me work and you'll get a minute to just enjoy ok?" Not waiting for permission once again, she went at my skin with a soapy rag. It felt like it was made of sandpaper, each scrub took a layer of my skin off. It took a second to realize that each swipe also took off every bit of hair. She was down to my mid section when I rebelled. "Hey, that's not ok!" She was expecting it I guessed and pushed me to the tile wall. A hard swat to my butt cheek quieted me. "You will not argue with me anymore. Do you understand me?" "B..but I" SMACK "Do you understand me?" "Yes." SMACK, apparently being submissive wasn't enough. "Yes what?" My thoughts raced to find a proper answer. SMACK, what did she want from me! I took 5 swats for my brain to catch on. "Yes ma'am, YES MA'AM!" "Very good! I'm proud of you, if she hadn't claimed your rehabilitation I would be all over it." That didn't sound good. They had a plan for me. She finished her job, cleaning every inch of me. The shower had lost its allure though and when she said I could stay in for a minute I just walked out. Sitting on the toilet naked and violated. "I gave you a reward and you turned it down?" I just sat on the lid of the toilet without responding. "I guess you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him enjoy it. Anyway," she dug in a cabinet and pulled out a white t-shirt and white shorts, they looked more like boxers than anything else, "put these on, and I'll deliver you. Your food is waiting. I dressed hurriedly, I wasn't looking for another spanking. The shorts were comfortable and the shirt was a bit big but close enough to not be a bother. We left the room and I was marched down a long hallway. A couple women came to the doorways along the hall, smiling. A few offered encouragement like "atta boy" or "That's a good boy." I felt my face heat up again. They didn't know I was going to get out of this. They were planning on me being taken in. As soon as I had that free meal that is. And now apparently my clothes too. Maybe without the clothes would be ok. I could figure it out. We reached the end of the hall to a door that said "For intake only, all others keep out." That's not good, not good at all. I had to find a way to do this away from this room. "Aren't we going to a kitchen or a dining room or something? I thought you said my food was here." She knocked on the door, "it is waiting on you in here. I promise, have I given you a reason to mistrust me?" My mouth once again moved without my brain telling it to, "You're a LoGger that's a reason in itself." Damnit! That was stupid! They hate that name, they only refer to themselves as Ladies. I knew better! Her face darkened as the door opened. The brunette that had brought me here stood in the doorway. She was dressed like she had been. "Oh? Did I interrupt something?" She was holding a plate with a steak, potatoes, broccoli and a piece of cake on it. My eyes focused on it, my mind blanked, I was so hungry I missed them saying "He decided to be rude a half a second before you opened the door." "How so?" "He referred to us as LoGgers." "I will ensure he understands the best way to talk to those helping him. It seems he has a need first, but rest assured I WILL handle it." Then to me grabbing my hand, "come inside, now." I followed like one of those cartoon characters that had been enticed by the vapors from a cooling pie in the window. I couldn't focus on anything. She placed the tray on the table and told me to sit and eat. I did, and with abandon. My whole mind focused on how fast I could cram food in my mouth. "Slow down,"She said gently. I never even heard her, nor did I see the stick she pulled from her pocket. It extended right into my thigh. When it connected, my world erupted into electric shock and fire. "Ahhhhh" I was thrown back by muscles reacting to the pain. Spitting the food in my mouth out like a projectile. "Do you think wolfing your food down like an animal is polite? Or do you think it's kind to someone who spent so much energy on making it just for you? Do you think it's OK to ignore me when I speak?" She hadnt said it in anger, just questioning me on proper behavior. I looked at her blankly, I wasn't sure how to respond. The pain in my thigh was beginning to dim but the memory was still there. "You will slow down, you will enjoy the food, and you will listen to me. The stick was a simple reminder, as it's your first offense I don't expect you to be perfect, however, polite and kind are things you should be already." Her stern voice was like a mother bringing her boy under control. I felt stupid. She was right and I needed to control myself if I was getting out of here without the dreaded destiny she had in mind for me. She handed a cloth napkin to me, at least I knew the answer here and placed it upon my lap. "Very good boy! I'm proud of you, now here's your knife and fork back. I'm going to go change clothes and freshen up. You eat slowly, and I'll be back. Don't want you getting sick now do we?" She stood up and I started to eat again. Slower this time. I distantly heard a door close and water running. I ate without a thought in my mind. When I had finished everything using my finger to get the cake crumbs to my mouth I surveyed the room. I was in trouble, one wall held a bed, another a door to wherever the brunette had gone. A third held a shelf a small refrigerator and a window, the shelf held every manner, color and size of diaper that existed in the hand of the LoGgers. This wasn't good. They had gotten me this far, it wasn't likely I'd talk my way out now. I bolted for the door. It should have been obvious, locked! There wasn't a key hole or anything. The knob just wouldn't turn or open. The window wasn't much more help, we were on the 5th floor or higher. I wasn't getting out easily and even with food in me I wasn't up to full strength so scaling a building wasn't going to happen. Not that I could when I was at full strength. I began searching the room frantically, I was once again so focused I never heard the door open. "There isn't a key." It shook me out of my reverie. She was leaning against the door frame, her clothes a red latex get up, skirt that went a little past her mid thigh, skin tight top. It looked like she had been watching me for a minute or two. I swallowed audibly. For one that was a hot getup and I was failing miserably to stop my freshly shaven private parts from engorging. The boxer type shorts not doing anything to hide it either. It also served as a prophetic moment for what was to come. The style suggested she wanted to play and I was goingbto be the toy. "I see you like it. Well those few that see it usually do. But they usually don't get to the softer side of it. Most of you fight until the bitter end. You however won't get a bitter end, you will be coming with me when we leave tonight. You see with no place to stay or way of caring for yourself I have invoked caregiver rights." I had never heard that before. No one had ever said anything about it. Never mentioned on the internet. My face obviously reflected my confusion and possibly revulsion to the idea. "We will talk about it more later. As for now, I see you've finished eating, would you like to use the toilet? It will be your last chance, quite probably ever." I needed to think. I needed time to plan an escape. Time to play dumb. "Uhhh, I have been using the toilet since I was 2. Why would I not be able to now?" Her attitude changed, "I am a patient person. So much so that I can wait a month or more for someone to get so low they walk themselves into my hands." The thought left me embarrassed, she crossed the room and produced a loop of metal. It came open at her touch and she placed it around my wrist. When it closed the clasp or whatever it was, vanished. "You won't get it off, and if you try you will likely hurt yourself." She stood close and asked again, "would you like to use the toilet one last time? It often helps you boys to say goodbye." I weighed my options, how long could I take? Maybe I could find a way out. "Sure." Trying to sound defeated. I turned to go in and she blocked my way. "I'm waiting, so remember that, and be polite." Her voice conveyed a threat but sounded gentle. Her eyes seemed to be motherly and I wanted to run. She moved only after I nodded. I shut the door, no lock on the handle. Probably only locked the same way the main door did. Similar to the room I'd been showered in. All the cabinets were locked, I sat on the toilet emptying myself, never knew if she could check for that or not. It would be better not to risk it. I was going to have to rely on wit and sheer luck to get out of this. I stood up pulling the white boxers as I went. Time to pour on the charm. The door opened before I even could push it open. "You took too long, let's go." She was no nonsense. "Can we talk first? I don't even know your name. Maybe some water?" "There are only 2 ways to address me right now, ma'am and Lia. Nothing else. If you are good you will not have long to wait on getting water or some juice. On the bed, on your back please." She picked up a blue diaper from the shelf and turned to see I hadn't moved. "That's one. On the bed, on your back please." "But, I haven't done anything wrong." "That's two. On the bed on your back please." Her tone never wavered as she crossed the room back to me. She tossed the diaper on the bed and looked up at me from about 6 or 7 inches below me. "I really don't see why…" that was as far as I got. I never even saw where it came from, the stick tapped my thigh again and I fell to the floor clutching my leg. It seemed to have hurt worse this time. "That's three. You won't always get 3 warnings, but for today I will, simply because you're a boy and in need of learning how to behave." She walked over to the bed and placed hand on the far side. "Now will you submit, get on the bed on your back?" I wasn't getting out of this, not right now. That stick hurt like the Dickens. I wasn't strong enough to fight her right now either. I delayed by getting up slowly. When I didn't move immediately she sighed heavily and tapped a button on her watch. "That's four, we will do it the hard way." The cuff on my arm moved of its own accord, I was dragged four or five feet to the bed, where my wrist was held fast. It wouldn't budge. What the hell was this thing? She plopped the rectangular plastic diaper in front of me, "It's an electromagnet, the tech is pretty neat huh?" Neat?! How is pinning me to the bed neat. " Where I touch, you go. Pretty simple in execution but it goes way beyond my understanding. Now we will begin. I'm going to paddle you, I want you to understand it will not stop until I think you are truly willing to obey me. So when you think you are ready for me to put you in that diaper, just say so." The way the cuff had dragged me I was laid over the bed exposed on my backside. There was no defense. She ripped the white boxers off my rear. "Can't even wipe correctly. You need a lot of help, my boy. You left streaks in the clothes you borrowed from us. That's disgusting." The first hit stung like a thousand bees stinging my ass. I couldn't see what she was using but it felt thin and hard. I wasn't going to dignify it with a yelp. Maybe if I could outlast her… She began working my cheeks over, I lost count around 15 or so. I started to yelp and do sharp breaths. She started to vary the pattern, sometimes slower, sometimes faster. I couldn't prepare for it, couldn't brace myself. Sometimes it felt like she was done, others it felt like she was just starting. I realized tears had formed in my eyes. She was never going to let me go, I was going to be in diapers, I was going to be her puppet. Like any male before me caught doing things they didn't want or deemed inappropriate. The first sob came like the sound of an old car starting up. Rough and forced. The caning kept going. Each time it felt like a hammer on my backside. I had lost all pretense and was just heaving and crying. "Please, pleeeeassse!" I cried, no response except the cane hit. A few more convinced me to try again. "I'm begging PLEEEEEASE! I'll do whatever you say, anything! I mean it." I was rambling and pleading my case. The cane kept falling. "I'll take the diaper, I will, please, I want it, please!" She paused for a second. "Now we are finally getting somewhere." Her voice sounded excited, almost erotically so. The caning started again. "No! Please, stop, I don't care, I'll do it, I'll even put it on myself!" She never reacted. The cane fell again and again. From the point where my butt met my back to mid thigh was on fire. It felt like someone had removed the skin. I collapsed into sobs not able to make coherent words anymore. Without warning the beating stopped. I could hear her barefoot hitting the floor as she walked around the bed. It didn't matter to me, I was broken, I layed on the bed sobbing, I could feel a puddle of tears that had formed under my head. When she reached me she bent down and kissed the top of my head. "I don't want to ever have to do that again, I probably will have to, You boys are stubborn, I much prefer to get my jollies in other ways. You need to understand I'm willing to do what is necessary to make you a good boy." She retrieved the diaper and walked back behind me. My sobs never abated. I felt a cool cream go onto my backside. It brought the pain back instantly. I jerked away from her hand, moaning in between my heaves as I tried to bring control back to my breathing. "I know, I know, shhhhhh, I know. This will make it feel better though." She shushed me as she worked. "Let's let that sit for a minute then we will get you properly dressed so we can go home." I was going to be in diapers. As she moved around the room she hummed and sang to herself. It reminded me of a serial killer I had once heard about. I was going to be in diapers. The thought kept ringing in my head. It was all I could think, but I had no will left to fight. It was a consuming thought. Everything I had done to avoid this moment and yet here I was. I was going to be in diapers. "All right, that should be good now, let's rollover and get you in your first diaper." I was going to be in diapers. It wasn't fair, it wasn't ok, but I complied. My tears returning. She was putting me in diapers. "Oh baby, don't worry, I'm going to take good care of you. You'll never be on the street again, ok?" I knew I needed to respond this time, "yes, ma'am" I choked out between sobs. The pain in my rear grew again as pressure came from being rolled onto my back. My legs were lifted, Lia used her shoulder to hold me off the bed enough to slide the diaper underneath. She laid me down gently, and began to rub in oil all over my groin. "You're such a good boy for me." After that came baby powder. "I bet that feels nice, even in such a state you like it don't you? Getting the little boy all excited!" She talked down to me like a child the whole time. "But it's not fun time, no no no. We have to get him tucked away all nice and cozy." With that she pulled the thick padding up between my legs, I fought back the heaving sobs again. I succeeded but a few tears still escaped. She expertly taped me in place. I wondered how many she had done this to. "Why?" Was all I asked. "Oh baby." She tapped her watch and I felt my arm go free. She pulled me onto the bed in the correct way, pulling my head to her chest. "Oh baby, you need to understand, I don't like seeing you the way you were this morning. I don't ever want to see you struggling like that. Remember how hungry you were? How dirty? How lonely? You walked in here KNOWING that this would end here. You were so miserable you came in here willingly just for a hot meal. I did this so you will never be that desperate again." She kissed my head lovingly. "Sometimes we have to be broken to be made into something better. I will do what I must." Laying in a diaper on her chest still heaving with the occasional tear I wanted to push her away, but I needed the soft touch right then. Even if it was from her. "Now let's get something soft on those legs and we will go home. Eat a nice dinner and get some good sleep." —------------- That at least, explains how I ended up here, you know diapered, how I ended up in Lia's care. I suckled more, her milk was usually sweet. The fruit she ate kept it that way. I had learned not to use my teeth or to pull too hard. This wasn't normal though. At least for my situation. I found myself here again because I had earned it. A bit of gas escaped to my diaper, it wouldn't be long now. The pressure was building in my abdomen. Breastmilk had its effects on me. My thoughts wandered off again, why was I here? —------------- "You want to act like a baby, you will be treated like one." I had avoided using the diapers for 2 days now. Instead I had walked out to the garden pretending to want to be in the yard and hid behind a bush there. It worked, mostly. At least until Lia had found out. The diaper still around my ankles, she activated my wrist cuff. I was dragged across the yard over the pool decking and slid into the wall by the door where the hidden magnet pad was. She had a few of them around the house. The one in the yard had been particularly embarrassing, she had left me there one day in nothing but a diaper. It had been 4 hours. My side, clothes and the diaper were destroyed in the process of being dragged across the yard. So there I lay bleeding from the road rash I had just received, mostly naked, completely embarrassed and horribly terrified. She was not happy. She hauled me up by my ear and took me to my room where she all but threw me on the changing table. "We use our diapers, little boy. I expect better from you. Did you think I wouldn't find out? What were you going to say when I checked you and you stayed dry for 3 days?" She was angry, and that was the understatement of the year. "This is ridiculous. You know better." She began cleaning out the roadrash, it was like she was using sandpaper. My sharp intake of air was enough to calm her a bit. She liked to know I was not enjoying my punishment. This was obviously a good punishment I thought. Maybe she'd leave it at that. Last time I'd been rude I'd had to use a pacifier for 24 hours. If she couldn't hear me suckling it she would swat my thigh. My jaw was aching by the end of the 24 hours. One time she caught me awake and out of bed, I had a week of nap times. Her brand of punishment was usually on the bizarre side of babyhood. "Don't think that this is going to be the end of it either." There went that hope. "This was beyond dumb." She laid a cloth against my leg for a minute. Then pulled it off and bandaged my leg. She put me in a new diaper and dragged me up off the table. A new pair of pants was added over top of the diaper, they had a lock on them. Before she locked them on though a hand went down the backside of my diaper and a finger pushed something in. "If you push that out there'll be a spanking and you'll get another one of them" The lock was fastened and I was brought to the living so "I could be watched." It didn't take long to realize she had put in a suppository and locked me in. I was about to uncontrollably poop myself. She watched with a glass of wine in hand. I began to struggle against the wave of contractions. I had always been allowed privacy until now. I got up to walk away, but was stopped. "Uh uh, get back here and sit on the carpet facing me." I didn't argue the spankings were worse than the babying. I knelt in front of her and she pulled me closer. Putting my head in her lap, she rubbed my hair, seeming to savor every second of my discomfort. Right as a new wave was coming, I began to brace myself to fight it. She pulled my head up to look in her eyes. She looked so sophisticated at that moment. Red dress, glass of wine in hand, and my head in her other hand, it made me feel dumpy and unrefined. The climax of the contractions came on and I closed my eyes fighting the good fight. Every fiber of my being was put into stopping the medicines from d I ung their job. Without warning my mouth was invaded by a tongue. My eyes flew open to see Lia kissing me. My concentration shot, the warm mush filled the seat of the diaper. The kiss didn't end immediately though, she held on until she finished with whatever she had wanted. I just sat there filling my pants completely stunned. "That's my good baby boy, from now on during punishments you will only refer to me as mommy." Was all the explanation she said or offered. I sat in that mess for a few hours, easily developing a rash. This was the extent of the punishment, not the accident, but the embarrassment and the rash as a reminder. When she changed me she did something very odd. She only did three tapes instead of the four. "Lay on the bed." She'd commanded. Doing as I was told, confused but obedient. She threw a rag very similar to the one she had used on my leg earlier. "Masturbate" "What?" I had been put in mittens for 3 days for touching myself last time. It made me timid to do so even if she was standing there telling me to do it. "Mast- ur - bate, now. I'm not going to tell you again. I need to collect several samples to make sure you are chemically balanced. Your constant bad behavior suggests there's an issue. I need to make sure there isn't." "Like, with you watching? I can't do that." "If you don't do it I'll spank you until you orgasm. Now chop chop, I still have to make dinner." It was said so nonchalantly it left me uncomfortable. I tried, I really did. After about 10 minutes of just trying to get going nothing was happening. "Boys and their toys, turn over and get on all fours." I did as expected. I felt the ever invasive hand go into my fresh diaper. She retrieved my member and began massaging me. It felt good, but I rejected it nonetheless, "this is so weird." "It is? Then tell me why you're already getting hard?" It felt Really good, it had been a long time since anyone had touched me like that. Once I had grown stiff she pulled it from the diaper through the leg hole. "I think you want to be my boy, look at how quickly you reacted to my touch. You're going to explode aren't you? I know you need the release, you haven't had one since you've come to me." She was full steam ahead. My cock harder than I had ever remembered. "Oooooh" the moan escaped my lips without my consent. "My boy, you can finish." She leaned down to my ear and whispered "you want it so bad, go ahead, diaper boy." That was it, all she wrote. I exploded, she held the rag in place and caught everything. "You CAN be a good boy, lay down please." The afterglow left me wanting to just fall asleep right there. I rolled over as instructed, she tucked me away in the diaper and taped it back snuggly. I had never wanted to be in a diaper less than that moment. Disgusted with myself I wanted to just disappear. She had gained so much power over me in that one moment. "You're not out of the woods yet." Was the only warning she gave me. —------------ Knowing why I was here was easy enough, her hand had been patting my rump. It was strangely comforting. She dimmed the lights. It had a nice effect. My head cradled at her breast, I kept nursing. If I stopped for too long she would assume I was finished or just being lazy. So I had to go long enough to satisfy her. "I think the baby needs both tonight." She announced in an almost whisper. I whined at her breast. This always gave me digestive issues. "Oh? Is the baby too tired? I guess after his punishment it'll be bedtime and not play time." I moaned again. "Mmm, then baby should drink all the milk he can. That way he has strength for play time. Mommy may let him out of that awful waffle diaper if he eats well tonight." The great thing about punishments is when they were over they were over, she didn't let it linger or hold it over my head. "You know baby, mommy finally got your tests back from the lab. They don't show any imbalances. All your levels are just right. That leaves me wondering something. If you don't have a reason to behave poorly, do you just want to be my baby?" Her hand brushing my hair back. I never responded to her. My face turned red as her hand moved from bum, down the front of my diaper. She didn't even really have to make contact to get me going, but she did, lightly at first. I responded to her touch by pushing forward. "My my, are we needy tonight? I think you should slow down and prove to mommy you can be a good boy first." She made me switch sides so I could drain her other breast. In the months since we had been together she had taught me a lot. Most of all she had taught me to not always be a good boy. It led her to want long nights of fun. Mostly because she got to "punish" me. Those times were her favorite. Oh how she enjoyed them. Not that I was complaining, the diapers still sucked but she would let me atleast "hang out" for our fun times. In the end I wasn't going to escape. I had tried, it hadn't worked. But that is a story for another day. Why? Well, it didn't have anything to do with how I got here…

This story is written for the 3rd kasarberang non-contest. That Escalated Quickly By Bo Tox Chapter 1 Well, I suppose I have no one to blame but myself but the damned genie didn’t have to be so vindictive about it. Let my mistakes be a warning: Don’t make the three wishes. It never ends well. I was minding my own business while metal detecting at the beach. That day I found a fake high-end watch, a wedding ring and lots of trash. I was loading my gear into my backpack. The metal detector was still on and I sat it down near the dunes. It went off with the sound of something strong. The spot it indicated was above the high tide line so whatever was in the sand wasn’t new unless someone purposefully buried it. The sand was easy to dig in and I found a handle. Once pulled, the handle was attached to a pot. When I had it fully out of the ground, it resembled an old teapot. The teapot was a dull metal, maybe brass. It certainly didn’t look like it had a lot of value but if it were old enough, it might bring something. I tossed it in with the rest of my booty and finished preparing to leave. My diaper was pretty wet so it was definitely time to go. About the diaper, it is for convenience. If I’m making good progress while prospecting, I don’t want to stop to find a toilet. The facilities at the beach are often poorly maintained and borderline disgusting. With everything loaded in the car, it was good to get back into an air-conditioned car. Twenty minutes later, the car was in the garage and the day’s treasure was in the laundry room sink, getting rinsed off. While that stuff soaked, it was time to get something to eat, rehydrate and change my diaper. Full disclosure, diapers aren’t just for convenience. I might actually like to wear them. There’s nothing wrong with that. Lots of people do it. The microwave was spinning a pizza and half a bottle of water sat on the table while I went to get into a dry diaper. The microwave beeped on the way back to the kitchen. A fresh diaper is always a nice feeling. After eating and drinking enough to feel full, I went to the sink to start inspecting my finds a little more thoroughly. The teapot was rinsed off and put aside to dry. The other items needed another rinse. I towel-dried the teapot. It looked better cleaned up. A little shine might make it nice. A little metal polish and some elbow grease would do wonders. I squirted the polish into the cloth and started rubbing the teapot. I wasn’t paying much attention. When I looked at the lamp, it was brilliant with smoke coming out of the spout. The lights flickered a few times and the smoke grew thicker. I had no idea what was going on so I sat the teapot on the counter and backed away. A booming voice announced, “WHO HAS FREED ME?” I was shaking and might have even peed my diaper a little bit but answered, “I did, James.” “I am the genie of the lamp,” said the voice as the smoke coalesced into a head and flowed down to arms and a torso. The lower part remained a smoky haze. “Lamp? I thought this was a teapot,” I said. The arms of the genie spread and she smiled, “I was imprisoned in the lamp for 100 years. You have freed me and I will grant you three wishes and only three wishes. Choose wisely, James.” I scratched my ear and looked at the genie, “Three wishes. I’ll have to think about that a minute.” The genie looked at me with a wry smile, “Don’t take too long.”

? Isle of Foxes By Horatio Husky Commissioned by ArtMckinley Part One ”Island” Janet Parker kept her breathing steady, and her sights up. Disembarking from the rowboat after having crossed part of the East China Sea, the young anthropologist’s arms had shook even as she hauled the boat ashore. Still, after having furtively glanced around the deserted shoreline, she confirmed that she had managed to arrive undetected. Shouldering her backpack and hefting her emergency supplies kit out of the boat, she had half carried, half dragged her supplies to the jungle’s edge and hoisted her baggage into a small nestling of exposed rock. There, she would set up her camp. No fire or open forest floor plan for Janet, however. The mission she was attempting to undertake required utmost discretion, for not only was she going to have to camouflage her encampment as best as she could, but the boat would also have to be hauled further onto the island and hidden with brush. Still, Janet figured, she had some time yet. Carefully unpacking some of her supplies, she laid out the spokes and tarp that would make up her tent. Patterned the same lush hues of green as the surrounding underbrush, the anthropologist internally crossed her fingers that she would remain undetected. As she began to erect the tent, moving the expanding metal rods and tough, industrial string through the various pores of the tarp, her mind wandered back to the grueling process that had led her to the island she had been fascinated with since childhood. Maps of ‘Okidaitōjima’ had covered the walls in her bedroom ever since she was twelve. Previously known as ‘Rasa Island’ but also known as ‘Abreojos’ by its Spanish discoverer Bernardo de la Torre, who had become all too familiar with its perilously shallow surrounding shores, it was not the geography or its history that fascinated Janet. For thousands of years, the Japanese islanders who inhabited the Okinawa Islands held the island as sacred and forbidden to set foot upon. Untouched by humanity for hundreds of years, the island was rumored to be home to the only known species of intelligent, anthropomorphic foxes. Only recently had satellite imagery confirmed that the island was, in fact, inhabited. Changes in the island’s landscape and blurry images supplied by the satellite’s imagery suggested that there was indeed a primitive presence on the island. Janet still remembered the moment she had first viewed the low resolution pictures of erected watch towers and small huts, covered in leafy green vines and appearing almost as if they had been grown out of the forest into a desired shape. She had almost spat out her morning coffee when, unnoticed by her colleagues, a suspiciously orange shape appeared to be perched neatly in one of the towers. She had kept this observation to herself of course. Janet knew that if she founded her request to her university’s funding committee based on what most considered to be Japanese folklore she would be laughed out of the conference room. Persuading the Japanese government to lift the sanctions protecting the island’s shores from visitors of any kind was no easy task either. After several months of back and forth, Janet had opened her office mailbox to the welcome sight of a red envelope addressed to her personally. Inside of it, she was greeted with a letter proudly marked with the logo of the Japanese embassy. Not only had she been granted a researcher’s visa, but she would become the very first civilized human being to study the island’s inhabitants. Janet had gotten her chance, a childhood dream to prove to the world that lateral sentient evolution had occurred in other mammalian species. With any luck, after collecting enough evidence to make her claim undisprovable, she would begin a new career as the world’s first and leading anthropomorphologist. Janet regarded her handiwork, noting with a sense of self-satisfaction that her practice at home had paid off. From afar, the tent she had just constructed appeared indistinguishable from the surrounding jungle flora. In fact, she thought to herself, I’ll have to take careful note of its surrounding landmarks if I’m to find it again… After taking a moment to carefully study her immediate area, noting a particularly mossy boulder only a few feet away from her camp, she turned her gaze over to the metal and plastic watercraft she had arrived in. Its exterior had been painted a dull gray with a motley of military green intermixed with its rather unappealing color scheme. Despite having been designed to match the surrounding jungle, the glossy waterproofing it had been covered with caught the sun in a dazzling reflection. Janet made her way towards the boat, nervously glancing behind her shoulder at the looming watchtowers that just poked over the canopy of the jungle behind her. I really hope they haven’t been looking in this direction for the past hour… Stretching her arms above her head and behind her back as she strode purposefully towards the craft, she limbered herself up in preparation for a grueling haul towards the jungle’s edge. With several undignified grunts of effort and a lot of panting later, Janet was grateful to find that after pulling the boat onto the looser, dryer sand her efforts became significantly less labored. Half an hour later, Janet stood with her arms on her hips as she squinted hard at the boat, which was now concealed under a hefty amount of fallen branches and leaves. Sure… If you look at it long enough you’ll notice something is amiss… But that’s only if you expect to see something out of place. Contenting herself with the thought that after a day or two worth of tropical jungle rainfall the hidden boat would sink more organically into its surroundings, Janet waded through the sand back towards her tent. After a few minutes of anxiously scanning the jungle, her eyes alighted on the boulder she had set as her landmark and soon enough she was crawling inside of her makeshift abode. It was getting late, the sun began to cast the western part of the island with rosier hues, shifting from its lustrous, daytime yellow to a soft, warm red. The inside of her tent was growing darker at a much faster rate than the beach outside, so Janet quickly prepared her evening meal with what little light she had left. She opened one of the bento boxes she had purchased at the harbor, knowing she would have to savor the first few meals on the island as she went through her fresh rations before she would have to resort to eating dried food, and the few canned goods she had brought alone that would have to be consumed cold. Looking up, she took a minute to meditate before she dug in. I actually made it… Too concerned with ensuring that her base of operations was set up quickly and undetected, Janet had not allowed herself a moment to truly let the enormity of where she was impact her fully. She was on ‘the Isle of Foxes,’ the very one that her father had read to her when she was just a little girl. A giddy expression spread across her face as she looked down at her meal, shaking her head in jubilant disbelief. She had done it, years of university with her nose stuck in dusty books followed by a delicate campaign to convince a sovereign nation to allow her to set foot on one of their sacred islands. And she had managed to accomplish it all. Janet Parker did her best to compose herself then, not wanting to let her sense of victory and relief become premature. She still had a job to do, after all. With any luck, she would be able to use the week’s worth of time her limited supplies allowed her to glean enough data from the island’s inhabitants to serve as a milestone for the entire field of anthropology. Reaching forward, the young researcher undid one of the flaps of her tent to reveal the setting sun, gently descending down into the giant ocean pool beneath it. That day’s sunset serving as her evening meal’s entertainment, Janet took her time slowly picking up clumps of rice and pieces of pork dumpling with her chopsticks. The last hints of the sun had just barely disappeared beneath the horizon when she finished. Shrugging off her travel ware, Janet stripped down into her underwear before nestling herself into her sleeping bag. The inside of the tent was a little warm for her comfort, but she knew better than to fall asleep exposed to the elements. The temperature would drop quickly, and she would not have her dream field expedition burdened by a head cold. Janet allowed her eyelids to grow heavy, taking in slow, deep breaths as she calmed herself down to further expedite the onset of sleep. It was difficult at first, her mind was a whirl with the following day’s duties and plans. But eventually, she found herself nodding off, the muffled sounds of jungle insects and nightlife creeping into her dreams as she dozed off into a tired, deep slumber. ⤐ ⬷ Janet crept through the jungle foliage at a crouch. Every dozen steps or so, she would glance around furtively in the canopy above before slowly standing up to locate the beaten path she was trailing. The explorer had to take care to not walk on any of the jungle paths, as the likelihood of discovery by one of the island’s inhabitants taking the same path was too much to risk. This made the going very slow, as Janet had to take time to not only maneuver around obstacles such as gnarled roots or dense vegetation, but she had to do so without making too much noise or damaging the plants. This proved more challenging than she had originally anticipated, and sweat beaded her brow as the morning slowly shifted into afternoon, the island’s temperature rising as the sun continued to bombard it with summer’s radiation. As she ventured through, Janet’s eyes alighted on the various dried grass and wooden effigies that stood erected in the trees above, or swinging gently from a motley of vines like marionette puppets. Janet keenly noted that each of the wooden figurines appeared each to sport a distinct set of pointed ears at the top of their heads. This fact alone restirred the excitement of the butterflies inside of Janet’s stomach. | Still, despite the discomfort and slow traversing, Janet knew she was making progress. Her nostrils had caught a whiff of smoke, telling her that she must be getting closer to the primitive encampment. The smell of cooked fish and a strange, pungent herb had accompanied the woodsmoke. They must be good trappers… There haven’t been any reports of seeing them in the waters… Janet reflected to herself, inching her around an overturned log. Eager to see for herself, the anthropologist stopped as she spotted the back wall of one of the huts about a hundred meters away from her. Walking towards the village on the ground was far too dangerous, and Janet glanced around the surrounding trees as she decided that now would be a perfect time to execute phase two of her covert observation plan. She stretched once more, recalling the advice of her acrobatics instructor from her youth as she assessed which tree would be easiest for her to scale. Her gaze settled on a particularly large looking tree, covered in a dense blanket of vines and moss that would serve well for gripholds and traction. With a muffled grunt, Janet grabbed the nearest vine and hoisted herself up, her ankles gripping the leafy rope tightly as she began to ascend. One hand over another, Janet felt the excitement of the ascent course through her, quickly replacing the idle boredom of having to slowly sneak through the tropical forest. Janet reached for the branch above her, her knuckles turning white as her fingers gripped the aged bark enough to support her entire weight. Grabbing onto another part of the same branch with her other hand, she felt her grip loosen as her heart skipped a beat. Bits of decayed bark fell down to the forest floor below as she swayed precariously, holding on with only four of her fingers; the foliage below appeared dangerously far beneath her. She gasped, only just barely stifling the yell of fright that had welled up in her chest as she remembered where she was and what she was doing. Silently, her face contorted into a pained expression of effort and desperation. She swung herself from side to side, before reaching up and grabbing the branch once more with her other hand. To her relief, the wood held, and bit by bit she was able to haul herself up until she kneeled safely on the tree’s rigid bough. Janet took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving as her nerves calmed themselves down from the fight or flight response. Trying not to think about the fact that she had almost plummeted to her death, Janet quickly shuffled along the branch and began to make her way slowly through the canopy in the direction of the primitive village. A quarter of an hour later, she had closed the hundred meter distance. The smell of cooking fires and sizzling meat now punctuated the air, causing Janet’s mouth to water. Whatever the island’s inhabitants were cooking up, it smelled delicious. The anthropologist almost regretted having to conduct the research undetected, as she would have loved in that moment to break bread with the cooks of the island. She could now hear muffled voices, remarkably high-pitched for a collection of human primitives. Janet did her best to control her breath, her vision still obstructed by the large hut in front of her. She would have to creep along the branch, and do her best to glean what she could from the leafy canopy above. Janet’s right hand crept slowly into her satchel, ruffling around its contents until her fingers came into contact with the cool metal of her camera. Quietly, she took it out of her bag. She was about to begin a slow, methodical crawl across the tree’s branch when she heard the distinct sound of rustling leaves to her left. Before she could react, a voice that sounded like a squeaky child’s inquiry almost caused her to fall out of the tree in surprise. Janet’s head whipped around towards the source of the voice. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes growing wide as she beheld the sight in front of her. Standing on two paws at roughly a meter in height, with a blood orange colored fur coat, was a fox.

I'm writing this for the 3rd kasarberang non-contest. Chapter 1 I finished the block of code I was working on and started the unit tests. As the project built, I turned to the Web browser on my second monitor and started scrolling through the videos, trying to find one I hadn't already watched. I finally found one. The title was promising. "Slut takes 3 dicks." The thumbnail showed a wide-eyed woman with her lips wrapped around the shaft of an impressively thick cock. The balls resting on her chin. I glanced back at my work. There were a few green ticks indicating that the first tests had completed successfully but there were many more remaining. I had plenty of time so I started the video so I unzipped my pants. Enjoying porn on company time was just one of the many benefits of working from home. I was just getting into a rhythm when my phone began ringing. Without pausing, I looked down at it on the desk. The caller was identified as Melanie Baker. She was the wife of Brad, a friend of mine. I was actually rather envious of Brad, Melanie was hot. I ignored the ringing and kept going. I was already imagining Melanie in place of the star of the video and myself in the place of each of the men penetrating her. My climax came long before that of the video and I fell back into my chair panting, my cock still hanging out. My phone started ringing once more. It was Melanie again. This time I answered it. “Hi Melanie.” “Robert.” She said urgently. “I need your help.” “Huh?” I couldn’t imagine what problem she could have that would need my help specifically. Surely she had her own friends to call. “Brad was working on a story. He was obsessed with it. Something about a bunch of disappearances being connected.” Brad was a freelance journalist. “He told me he was getting close but then he didn’t come home. I’m really worried.” “So what can I do?” I asked. “All of Brad’s research is in his computer. There must be some clue where he was going there.” She explained. “But I don’t know his password. You know about computers. I thought maybe you could figure out how to get in.” “Yeah probably.” I agreed, seeing the potential to spend time alone with Melanie and with her in such an emotionally vulnerable state. “I’ll be right over.” When I arrived at Brad and Melanie’s apartment, Melanie answered the door with tears in her eyes and greeted me with a tight hug. “Oh Robert. Thankyou for coming.” “It’s no problem, really.” I hoped she wouldn’t notice my growing arousal. “Where’s Brad’s computer?” “In his office.” She released me and led me to a small room with a laptop sitting on a desk, surrounded by piles of paper. I moved the mouse and the black monitor came to life, showing the login screen. After clicking around a bit and finding no obvious way around it, I pulled out a USB stick from my pocket and plugged it in before restarting the machine. The computer booted into my pre-prepared Linux environment. This gave me access to the laptop’s harddrive. “Okay.” I declared. “Here’s his documents folder. And luckily he hasn’t encrypted anything.” “Can you find the research he was working on?” Melanie moved closer, placing a hand on my back. “Yeah. I think so.” I found and opened the most likely file. “I think this is it.” It contained chunks of an unfinished article interspersed with notes, documenting interviews and contact details. Brad had apparently found connections and patterns in the disappearances of a number of people, all but twol were women. Tthe men were each married to one of the women and disappeared at the same time as her. Most of the women were scientists, engineers and doctors, many with impressive achievements in their fields. He had concluded that they had not been murdered or abducted. They had chosen to leave. Brad had been particularly interested in Rachel Harbourne, one of the women who had disappeared. She wasn’t an engineer or a scientist. She was the ex-wife of the founder of some tech company and had left the marriage with over a billion dollars of his money. Brad had dug into her investments and had found a remote property that she owned indirectly through a convoluted network of shell companies. He was convinced that he would find the missing women there. “That has to be where he was going.” Melanie exclaimed. “It’s only about an hour away from here too. You’re my hero Robert.” She kissed me on the cheek. “What do we do now?” I wondered. “We go there.” She seemed uncertain. "Right now." “It would be too dark when we got there. We'll go first thing tomorrow." I said then saw an opportunity and added “I’ll stay here tonight so you don’t have to be alone.” "No.” She must have heard the enthusiasm in my voice because all doubt was gone. “We need to go tonight. Brad might be in trouble.” So I soon found myself driving down a deserted, unlit road with Melanie in the passenger seat. There was no address, only coordinates to put into the GPS, that gave us a marker which was at least a kilometre from any road on the map. As we got closer it wasn’t clear how we could actually get to the property. “Was that a road?” Melanie suddenly asked. “Back there on the left.” I checked the screen in the dashboard. “There’s nothing on the map.” “We have to go back and check.” She insisted. “That might be it.” I slowed down and did a U-turn. She was right, it was a road, well more a dirt track. We followed it and soon had confirmation that we were in the right place. “That’s Brad’s car.” Melanie pointed excitedly. I pulled up behind it and Melanie was out before I’d even come to a complete stop. “It’s locked.” She informed me when I joined her. “He must have decided it was better to go on foot from here.” I suggested, then noticed something through the trees. “Look. There’s some lights over there.” “Let’s go.” She took off in that direction. I chased her and saw that the light was coming from the window of a large building. As we got closer, I could see it was just one of many buildings but the only one with light in the windows. “What the fuck?” Melanie said as she reached the window. I joined her looking into the building. There was Brad, totally naked, on all fours on a table. A blonde woman was standing, fully clothed, beside him with a hand around his cock. There were two other naked men, in similar positions. Women stood around the room in small groups watching. "He's joined a bloody sex cult." I tried not to sound too happy. If anything was going to get me into Melanie's panties this was it. Maybe she'd come to me for comfort or maybe for revenge. It didn't matter if it got her into bed. The blonde woman moved her hand up and down Brad’s member. Initially, he just held his position, looking down at the table beneath him but soon he started moving back and forth with the rhythm. I absent-mindedly rubbed my growing erection through my pants as I watched. "Enjoying the show?" I heard a woman's voice behind me. Melanie and I both turned away from the window to see two women, armed with strange looking guns. After taking a moment to consider my options, I ran for it. I didn't get far before feeling a sharp pain in my right butt cheek. My legs started to feel weak as I felt for the source of the pain. I found a small dart and pulled it out as everything went black. I woke up surrounded by wooden bars. I could feel that I was naked except for some weirdly thick underwear. I ran my hands over this strange garment. It was covered in soft plastic and fastened at the front with tapes. With some effort, I sat up to examine it, confirming my fear. I was wearing a diaper. a ridiculously huge puffy disposable diaper, decorated with cartoon teddy bears in various pastel colours. I tried to take it off but the lingering effects of the tranquiliser left me too weak and uncoordinated. A door opened and a light turned on. "Looks like someone is finished with his nap." A woman's face, with olive skin and framed by long black hair, appeared, looking down over the bars. I suddenly realised what the bars were. I was in a giant cot. "Who are you?" I demanded. "And why am I wearing a diaper?" "You can call me Dr. Patel." She answered. "And the diaper is so you don't make a mess on the floor." "Where am I?" I continued my questions. "What have you done with Melanie?" "Patience. Everything will be explained in good time." She lowered one side of the cot. "But right now you only have to worry about finishing your bottle." "Bottle?" I asked, confused as she took my hand and led me to a long sofa. I tried to pull away but found I wasn't strong enough. She sat me in the middle of the sofa then picked up a large baby bottle full of a white liquid and sat at one end. "Just lay down and Dr. Patel will feed you." I made a feeble attempt to resist as she guided me to lay down across the sofa with my head in her lap. She smiled down at me as she brought the large nipple of the bottle to my lips. Even though I tried to clamp my mouth shut, she easily forced it in. The nipple filled my mouth. I tried to push it back out with my tongue but that only caused the liquid inside to squirt I to my mouth. In that position, I had no choice but to swallow it. "See." Dr. Patel said. "It doesn't taste so bad." She was right but it wasn't the taste I objected to. It was laying there in a diaper being fed like an infant. I wanted to ask why she was doing this to me but trying to talk only caused my mouth to fill with more of the liquid. "Good boy." She cooed. "Drink it all up." Whatever her reasons, it was clear she wasn't going to take that nipple out of my mouth until I had drunk the whole bottle so, resigned to this, I got to work. I had finished about half of it when my stomach started feeling uncomfortable. I kept going but a little while later it started cramping. "Is your tummy feeling yucky?" Dr. Patel must have noticed my discomfort. "Don't worry. It's just the laxatives starting to work. The muscle relaxants should kick in soon and then you'll feel much better." Now realising the purpose of the diaper, I started struggling against her again. She easily held me in place and kept the nipple in my mouth. I only succeeded in filling my mouth with more of the laxatives, muscle relaxants and who knows what else. "All done." She finally declared, pulling the bottle out of my mouth. "It won't be long now." She released me and I stood up. As promised, the muscle relaxants had muted the cramps but I could still feel what was coming. I had to find a toilet fast. On unsteady legs, I made my way to the door but I found that the doorknob was too much of a challenge for my hands. I knew that what was coming was inevitable but I still tried to fight it. I ordered my butthole to squeeze tightly shut and, for a while, it obeyed. With all of my attention on not shifting myself, my bladder took the opportunity to release, flooding the diaper. I felt the pee pool between my legs before being absorbed by the paddling. Dr. Patel didn’t move from her spot on the sofa. She just sat there, watching me with a patient smile. "Just let it happen." She suggested. "Don't worry. I won't leave you in a messy diaper. I'll get you cleaned up as soon as you're done. Her encouragement was unnecessary. At that moment, I finally lost the battle and the mess filled the seat of my diaper. It kept coming, squeezing up the back and the front. When it was finished, the diaper seemed ready to burst but, despite sagging heavily, it held on. "That's some laxative isn't it?" Dr. Patel laughed as she finally stood up. "It cleans you out completely, much more thoroughly than an enema." Too ashamed to offer any response, I meekly allowed her to lead me into the next room. With each step, I felt the mess against my skin. This room was far more clinical than the first. In the centre was what looked like a gynaecologist's examination chair. At least that's what they looked like in the fetish videos I'd watched. Dr. Patel led me straight to the chair. "Sit here and I'll get you cleaned up." I desperately wanted to be out of that diaper so I did as I was told. I didn't protest as she guided my feet onto the stirrups and strapped them in place or when she fastened a belt across my stomach. A large mirror took up most of the wall I was facing. As I looked at myself in that bulging diaper I had a terrible feeling it was actually a one-way viewing window. She pressed a button and the back of the chair lowered, pulling me back into a lying position, as the stirrups lifted my legs above me and spread them apart. “Okay. Now for the yucky bit.” She undid the tapes open and let my diaper fall open. She pulled a face but got to work, cleaning me with baby wipes. Working methodically, Dr. Patel started just under my stomach and then moved down to the base of my cock. I couldn’t help growing a little hard as she began to wipe the shaft. “Enjoying the attention?” She giggled and moved on to my balls, which did nothing to reduce my arrousal. Continuing to work her way down, she cleaned the mess off my bottom then wiped through my crack. She lingered on my butthole, pressing gently until it yielded to her fingers. I let out an involuntary moan of pleasure and my cock grew even harder. “I see you like that.” She smiled, removing her fingers from my arse and wiping the rest of my crack. “You’re going to love the procedure then.” “What procedure?” I did not like the sound of that. “What are you going to do to me?” “You’ll find out in just a moment.” She wiped my lower back and after inspecting her work declared. “There. All clean.” Leaving me strapped in place, She threw the used diaper and wipes into a nearby bin and moved to a sink to wash her hands. She took her time, either being very thorough or just deliberately making me wait, helpless with my bare bottom presented to that mirror. . Finally, Dr.Patel opened a cabinet, from which she removed a metallic cylinder. She carried it over to me and smiled at me from between my raised legs. “This is why we had to make sure your bottom was cleaned out.” She held up the cylinder, confirming my fears. “And the muscle relaxants will help it go in without hurting you.” I heard a clink as she put the device aside, then felt her fingers penetrating my butthole again but this time they were cold and slimy. “Just some lubrication to help it go in.” She explained, spreading the gel. I started to grow hard again in spite of my fear of what was coming next. Dr. Patel withdrew her fingers. A moment later I felt the smooth rounded end of the metal device replace them. “Just relax.” She said gently as she pushed it inside me. I gasped as I felt it slide deeper inside me. Precum started dribbling from the end of my rock-hard cock. “I knew you’d enjoy it.” She slid the device out a little. Then back in, slightly deeper than before. “Now I just have to find the right spot.” She moved it in and out a couple more times then said. “There.” I yelped as I felt a brief stinging pain inside me. I lasted less than a second but it seemed it was enough to make my erection disappear as Dr. Patel pulled the device out of my bottom. “What did you do to me?” I asked. “I’ve just installed your prostate chip.” She put the device down and returned to the sink to wash her hands again. When she returned, she stood at my side. “Now let’s test it.” She gently stroked my, now limp, cock. It felt good but I didn’t start to get hard again. “Good.” She began tapping on a bracelet on her left wrist and my cock became fully erect. “Excellent.” She tapped a couple more times and suddenly I began to squirt cum onto my stomach and chest. Weirdly, I didn’t feel any pleasure from this orgasm. “What did you do to my cock?” I demanded. “The chip is connected to the nerves in your bottom and groin.” She took out more baby wipes and cleaned the cum off of me. “Among other things, it lets us control your erections and ejaculations. Men have proven they can’t be trusted to control their penises so the chip gives that control to someone more responsible.” “What sort of feminist bullshit is this?” I demanded. “You bitches need a good…” I stopped and screamed as I suddenly felt a pain just like getting kicked in the balls. “That’s one of the other things it does.” She tapped her bracelet and the pain was instantly gone. “Behave yourself and you won’t have to feel that too often.” She took out a tissue and wiped up the tears running down the sides of my face. “You’re going to be a good boy for me aren’t you?” I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself but I didn’t ever want to feel that pain again. I remained silent and turned my head away from her. I heard her moving around then heard a plastic crinkling sound and turned to find her back between my legs, unfolding another big diaper. I was too afraid to say anything so I just laid there pouting silently as she slid it under my bottom. Once she had me taped into my new diaper, she moved the chair back up into the sitting position. “Don’t you touch that diaper.” She warned as she released me from the straps. “Now let’s introduce you to Ms. Harbourne.” She led the way out of the room. I hesitated. “Like this? In just a diaper?” “Of course. That’s how all of the boys dress.” She held the door open. “Now hurry up if you don’t want to get in trouble.” She motioned toward her bracelet. I quickly followed her out of the room into a hallway. At the other end, Dr. Patel knocked on a door. “Yes?” came a woman’s voice. “Come in.” She pushed the door open and led me into the room where a well-dressed woman sat behind a large ornate desk. She was middle-aged but still in great shape. “Rachel.” Dr. Patel greeted the woman. “I’ve installed Robert’s prostate chip and it is working properly.” “Thankyou Inika.” The woman ignored me for a moment and addressed Dr. Patel . “Good night.” “Goodnight.” Dr. Patel left me alone with the woman. “Hello Robert.” She smiled at me. “You may call me Ms. Harbourne.” When I didn’t respond, she said. “Don’t be rude Robert. I’m sure Dr. Patel warned you what happens to boys who are rude.” I looked at her wrist. She wore a bracelet just like Dr. Patel’s. “Hello Ms Harbourne.” I said, feeling like a schoolboy greeting his teacher. “Good boy. You can sit down.” She indicated a chair in front of her desk and sat on it. “I’m sure you’re very confused right now.” She went on. “You are in a little town I have founded as a model for a new society, one where women are in charge. I was sick of being mistreated by men and after the divorce settlement I had the resources to do something about it. I made contact with talented women who shared my feelings and together we built all of this.” “So, you’re punishing me for being a man?” I asked, hoping that maybe there was some way to talk my way out of the bizarre situation I had found myself in. “Oh no honey. This isn’t a punishment.” She said with genuine sweetness. “We don’t hate men. We understand that you can’t control yourselves. It’s not your fault. I promise that you are safe and we will take good care of you. If you accept your new position I’m sure you can be very happy here.” “And If I’m not happy here?” I asked. “Can I leave?” “No. I’m sorry but I can’t let you do that.” She said, “You would tell people what we are doing before we were ready and they would come and ruin everything.” I sighed. It was worth a try. “Okay but what about the diapers?” "Men have always needed women to take care of them like you are babies and we are your mommies." She explained. “Keeping you in diapers just makes that explicit.” "I thought you said it wasn't a punishment." Maybe I could at least negotiate a less humiliating outfit. "It isn't. It is just a reminder of your dependence on us, to keep your ego under control. When a man's ego gets too big it only creates problems for himself and everyone else." She explained patiently, as though she was speaking to a small child. "I know this feels like a punishment right now because you think it is humiliating. That's just your ego creating a problem for you. Let it go, accept your dependence and you will be quite comfortable in your diapers." Without thinking, I rolled my eyes at this. “Bullshit.” I realised my mistake a moment too late. “Robert.” Ms Harbourne rose from her seat and her tone became suddenly stern. “I will not accept rude language from you.” “I’m sorry.” I said. I was about to burst into tears as I anticipated the pain from the device they put in my butt. However, as she made her way around the desk, she didn’t reach for her bracelet. “I understand that you’re cranky. It is past your bedtime but next time you use bad language you will be punished.” Her voice was already softening again. “Do you understand?” “Yes.” I nodded quickly. “Yes, Ms Harbourne.” “Good Boy.” She was smiling again. “Now, I’d better get you to bed.” Ms Harbourne held out her hand. I hesitated for a moment but knew she could force me if she wanted to so I got to my feet and took it. She led me out of her office and back through the building to an entryway with double glass doors looking out into the dark night. “It’s a bit chilly outside.” She took some neatly folded baby blue fabric from a nearby shelf. “Let's get you into this.” She let part of the fabric hang down, a pair of blue fuzzy legs. “Step in.” She held it out for me. Eager to finally have my diaper hidden, I did as I was told. The material was soft and warm. The feet were closed and had rubber soles built in. Ms Harbourne pulled the rest of the material up my body and guided my arms in before pulling up a long zip which ran all the way from my left foot up to my neck. I realised that I’d just been dressed in a footed bodysuit like a baby but I didn’t mind. It felt snug and comforting. Outside, I tried to get my bearings. As Ms Harbourne led me along a footpath, I looked for the big building where Melanie and I had found Brad. If I could identify that, I could figure out how to get back to my car. “This is my house.” She indicates the building we were walking toward. “You’ll stay with me until we decide who will adopt you.” I rolled my eyes at the idea of being adopted. Fortunately, she wasn’t looking at me. Then I spotted the building I was looking for. From where I was, I could see the entrance and, above it, a sign which read “Milking Shed.” I was about to make a break for it when I remembered that I didn’t have my keys. With a sigh, I followed Ms Harbourne into the house. As soon as we were inside, she unzipped my bodysuit. Reluctantly, I allowed her to remove it, leaving me in just my diaper again. I wasn’t cold, It seemed that the buildings here were kept at a comfortable temperature for walking around naked. From the entrance, she led me into the living room. Two long white leather sofas and a large marble coffee table were in the centre of the room, leaving plenty of space on every side. An enormous television took up most of one wall. The other walls were decorated with paintings. “Now, I do need to get you into bed.” She said, “But, before that, are you hungry?” My stomach had settled down since the laxatives and was now feeling very empty. “Yes.” “I thought you might be.” She sat at the end of one of the sofas. “Come and sit with me.” She patted the cushion next to her. I didn’t understand what was going on but I didn’t want to get in trouble so I joined her. As I did, she began unbuttoning her blouse. She pulled it open and, with absolutely no hesitation, undid a clip at the front of her bra, releasing her breasts. From my position, next to her on the sofa, I could just see the smooth pink skin behind her open blouse and the large, dark nipple protruding from that. I nearly got up for a better view but that wasn't necessary because she turned to face me, showing me everything. She then began massaging her breasts, one in each hand, kneading the soft flesh. I didn't know what was going on but I was afraid that if I asked she might stop. Out of habit, my hand found its way down to my groin and started rubbing my cock through my diaper. However it remained totally limp, apparently unimpressed by the show. “What’s the matter?” Ms Harbourne teased gently. “Is your diaper wet?” I blushed and moved my hand away but kept watching her play with her breasts. Soon drops of liquid began to form on the nipples. She looked down and smiled. "Okay. I think they are ready for you.” “Huh?” I was confused. “Ready for what?” “To nurse, silly.” She collected some of the liquid on her finger and transferred it to my lips. It tasted sweet. “This will be your food from now on.” I had mixed feelings about that. I certainly liked the idea of putting her breasts in my mouth. However, drinking her milk, especially while dressed like a giant baby, wasn’t appealing at all. “Don’t be shy.” Her hands moved to gently guide my head down into position. Frozen by indecision, I neither cooperated nor resisted and she pulled my face against her chest. I felt her firm, wet nipple pressed against my lips, demanding entrance to my mouth. Part of me wanted to open wide and get a mouthful of breast but I couldn’t bring myself to surrender to this babyish treatment. “Open up.” Mr Harbourne said, her tone as sweet as the milk I could already taste dribbling into my mouth. Resting my head against one arm, she took hold of her breast with the opposite hand and rubbed her nipple back and forth over my lips. “Come on. All men love boobies.” She wiggled a finger in between my lips and used it to force my mouth open. “Just another way you never really grow up.” I considered biting her finger but I was sure that would not end well for me. She soon managed to pry my mouth open enough to force her breast in. “There you go.” I tried to protest but intelligible speech was impossible with my lips wrapped around her nipple and the movement just made her milk squirt into my mouth. I swallowed it and the action squeezed more out, it was a vicious cycle and I soon realised the only way out would be to nurse until the milk was finished. Luckily, it actually tasted pretty good. She let out a sigh of pleasure as I settled into a rhythm “See. It’s not so bad.” She was clearly enjoying this. “We know you boys never grow out of needing to breastfeed. It’s why you’re obsessed with our breasts. You turn it into something crass but that’s just because you can’t admit what you really need.” Unable to argue, I just continued sucking and swallowing. She held me firmly against her body. “We’ve developed a way to make our breast milk a complete and balanced diet for an adult. You’ll never need to eat anything else.” Her breathing and little involuntary movements told me she was enjoying this. When the milk from that breast stopped, she moved me to the other one. She stroked my naked back, running her hand down to the waistband of my diaper and back up. “Good boy. Drink it all up.” Finally, I finished and Ms Harbourne released me. “Okay. Now let’s get you to bed.” Not bothering to refasten her bra or blouse, she stood and led me deeper into the house. “This will be your nursery for now.” She pushed open a door, revealing a bedroom furnished with an adult-sized cot and change table. Under the change table were stacks of diapers just like the one I was wearing. “Do you need a diaper change before bed?” Without waiting for a response, she patted the seat of my diaper and then gave my groin a little squeeze. “Nope. Still clean.” She lowered the side of the cot. “In you go.” When I hesitated her voice once again took on a stern edge. “Do I need to remind you what happens to naughty boys?” She didn’t need to remind me. I climbed into the cage and she pulled the side back up, clicking it into place. “Good night.” The edge was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “There’s a baby monitor.” She pointed at a baby blue plastic device mounted high on the wall. It had a camera pointed down into the cot. “So I can check on you. If there’s anything wrong, just call out and I’ll hear you.” With that, she turned off the light and left, closing the door behind her. Now alone, I considered ripping off the diaper. However, that would leave me naked. My next thought was climbing out of the cot. The bars weren’t too high. I could easily pull myself over them but then I considered the camera. I had no way to know if Ms Harbourne was watching. I decided that she’d just glance at the video occasionally and the chances she was watching right then were slim. I’d have to risk it. I pulled myself up and threw one leg over the rail. Suddenly, the pain hit me again. I let go, instinctively moving my hands to protect my groin. As I fell backward, I wet myself from the shock and pain. I hit the mattress and the pain stopped. “Crazy bitch!” I said, angrily. Moments later, the door opened and Ms Harbourne stepped inside. “I warned you about using bad language.” She turned on the light and crossed the room to the cot. I was so afraid that I wet myself again as she lowered the side. “Come here.” She held out a hand. Reluctantly, I took it and let her help me out of the cot. She led me to a chair where she sat. "Lay here." She patted her lap. "What?" I didn't understand. "Boys who say bad words get spanked." She explained. "No way." I backed away. "I am not letting you spank me." She made an exaggerated motion toward her bracelet. "Be careful, Robert." I got the message and positioned myself across her lap. She hooked he fingers over the back waistband of my diaper and pulled it down just far enough to expose my butt cheeks. Whack. Her palm came down on my bare bottom, making me yelp in pain. It stung far more than I had expected. "Why does it hurt so much?" I whined, pathetically. Whack. She gave me another smack before explaining. "Your prostate chip lets me adjust your sensitivity down there. I have turned it up to help you learn your lesson." Whack. "I've learned it." Whack.I wet myself once again as the next impact landed. Whack. The pain and humiliation were too much and I started to sob. "I'm sorry." I flinched as her hand came back down to rest gently on my tender bottom. "It's okay. It's finished." She left her hand there for a moment then said. "Go get up on the change table and I'll get you into a dry diaper." I stood up, still crying and waddled over to the change table with my soggy diaper hanging off my throbbing bottom. I climbed up on the table and laid down on the soft towelling on top.. Ms Harbourne came over to the table and untaped the diaper. “You’ve really soaked this one.” She rolled it up and dropped it into the bin with a heavy thud.. “I think I’m going to need to keep you in thicker diapers at night.” I just laid there trying to get my sobbing under control as she wiped my privates clean. The gentle, caring attention was soothing and by the time she slid the new diaper under my bottom, I had calmed down. The padding definitely felt thicker than my previous diaper and as she pulled it up between my legs, it forced them apart. I looked as she stuck the tapes in place. The shiny plastic bulged out ridiculously from my crotch. The print on this one was stars, all with friendly little faces. “Almost done. Just need to make sure the leak guards are right” Ms Harbourne announced, inserting a finger into each leg hole. It tickled but in a not-entirely unpleasant way. “Otherwise all the padding in the world won’t save your bed.“ I squirmed as she ran her fingers around my thighs. Clearly she’d left my bottom extra-sensitive. “Okay. Down you get and back into your cot.” I climbed down, moving awkwardly in the puffy diaper. With my knees forced apart, I couldn’t walk normally and waddled back to the cot. “You look adorable.” Mr Harbourne giggled as she followed me. “I might need to keep you in these overnight diapers full-time.” As I climbed back onto the mattress, she encouraged me with a gentle pat on my thickly padded bottom. “Now don’t try to get out again. I probably should have warned you that the cot has sensors which automatically trigger your chip if you get out.” She raised the bars back into place. “The same thing will happen if you get too far from one of these.” She held up her bracelet. “Goodnight Robert.” She once again turned off the light and left the room. Even sleeping was awkward in the enormous overnight diaper. I couldn’t lay on my side with the bulk between my thighs. I tried my back but the padding under my bottom made that uncomfortable. Finally I settled on sleeping on my stomach, of course this meant my diapered butt was sticking up in the air. I tried not to think about how babyish I looked.

Chapter One: Hannah Castle set down the chalk and turned from the blackboard. Re-tucking her white blouse into her green and blue tartan skirt she addressed the students in her class, “These are the things I want you to pay particular attention to on the field trip today. By the time we get back I expect everyone to be able to explain, in detail, two of these events. Essays will be due at the start of class tomorrow.” “You can’t be serious.” A girl in the back of the room griped. Having been walked all over by her students last year, in part because she wanted to be the ‘cool teacher’ and partly due the fact she is less than a decade older than the kids in her class, Hannah was determined to set a strong tone that she was in charge this year. “That’s detention Sierra.” “What?!?!” Sierra yelped. “I will not tolerate back talk or speaking out of turn in my classroom.” The teacher brushed a loose strand of auburn hair from her face. “I know you’re in high school now, but I expect all of you to be on your best behavior today at the museum. The bus should be here by now, so why don’t we all head out?” Forty-five minutes later Ms. Castle’s freshman class arrived at the Historical Museum for the day’s adventure. Having previously been paired into groups, the kids were allowed to wander about at their leisure to peruse the exhibits. Their teacher roamed about on her own keeping an eye on all the goings on pleased the earlier detention she had given had apparently done the trick. Lingering at an exhibit depicting Henry Ford, Hannah allowed her mind to drift a bit to her plans for the upcoming weekend. Hit the gym on the way home, swing home for a shower then off to Ryan’s house for dinner. More than likely she’d end up spending the night, which means a round two in the morning and lazing in bed until lunch. Of course, she did eventually have to get out of bed, Saturday afternoon she had yoga and a freelance art class. Painting wasn’t her forte, but it was fun swirling the colors on the canvas. Stumbling into someone she was bumped out of her reverie, “Sorry.” “And why aren’t you with the rest of the girls?” A woman in her 50’s with graying hair and thick horn-rimmed glasses admonished. With a furrowed brow, “Are you with the museum?” “You know full well who I am, young lady.” The woman placed her hands on her hips and glared. “Now march your butt back to the rest of the class.” “I don’t know who you think I am, but you’ve got the wrong person.” Seeing that the argument had drawn the attention of some of her students she pointed them out. “I’m a teacher, too. These are my students. Now I’d appreciate it if you kindly went on your way.” The older woman turned to the kids, “She isn’t your instructor, is she?” In unison, Sierra and her friends responded, “No. Never seen her before.” Stunned, Hannah was speechless as the woman grabbed her wrist and started to pull her away, “As I thought. Ten swats for running off and ten more for lying when we get back to school. And you’d best stop resisting or I’ll spank you right here.” “No! You can’t do this!” Ms. Castle pleaded. “I’m really their teacher, I can prove it! My purse, it’s on the bus!” The matronly woman delivered a hard smack to the teacher’s rear end. “I said march, young lady! You’re earning extra swats every second you delay.” “Those are my students, they’re lying!” Hands on her hips, “Not likely, it’s near impossible to get a group of kids to agree on anything let alone to all lie in concert with each other unprompted.” “Fuck you!” Hannah screamed spinning away from the other woman’s grasp and bee-lining towards the nearest exit with an obligatory angry glare at Sierra on the way by. Tasting free air, she paused for a second to locate the school bus. Halfway there, her run to freedom was thwarted by a wretched pothole allowing the overweight security guard to pin her to the ground. “Stop struggling,” he wheezed proving his 300 plus pounds weren’t just for show, he truly was out of shape. “Ms. Givens is getting the rest of the girls on the bus then she’ll be over to collect you.” “Ms. Givens is a stupid bitch who doesn’t listen.” The teacher attempted to squirm loose. “Just let me get my purse from the bus and I can prove I am who I say I am.” “I heard that,” the older woman scowled. “Frank, drag her over to the others if you have to, we’ll do roll call and then we’ll know exactly who this mouthy child is.” Figuring the ordeal would soon be coming to an end when they discovered they had an extra ‘student’, Hannah begrudgingly tolerated the walk of shame with most of her freshman ogling from the entryway of the museum. To her horror, two full buses of girls wearing the same outfit she had selected that morning greeted her at the destination. One by one names were read off a list alphabetically until every other girl there had been accounted for, getting ready to launch into a tirade, Hannah was cut short as one last name was read, a Hannah Ziegler. “I take you’re Hannah then?” Ms. Givens looked down over the top of her glasses. “I’ll be sure to remember that name from now on.” “I’m not! I mean my name is Hannah, but Castle not Ziegler or whatever.” “That’s enough lies out of you, bend over and touch your toes!” A blank expression on her face Hannah stared at the older woman who was not impressed by her lack of movement and appealed for help from the security guard. “Frank if you’d assist please.” A gruff hand gripped the back of the young teacher’s neck forcing her to bend at the waist. With her head held down by her knees she felt the back of her skirt being lifted to expose her lacy red panties to the world. “Stop! Please! You can’t do this! I’m an adult for god’s sake!” “Taking the lord’s name in vain and not wearing regulation underwear puts you up to 150 smacks.” Ms. Givens informed all those around. “Be sure to count them out.” In quick succession five swats landed on Hannah’s exposed backside. “Ow! Stop it!” “That isn’t counting,” three more spanks rained down. Another blow landed and the young teacher squeaked. “Nine. You happy you crazy bitch?” “That bumps the total to 160 and counting begins at one young lady.” Five more smacks connected with Hannah’s reddening behind. “One, two, three, four, five…” Tears running from her eyes and snot pouring from her nose she at last counted the requisite 160 and was summarily deposited in a vacant seat on the bus. Lurching forward the bus rolled onto the road and Hannah managed to compose herself enough to start working on a plan of escape when they got to wherever they were going. ~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Two: Watching her teacher’s ass turn the same color as her exposed panties made Sierra’s side hurt from laughing so hard; it may have been cruel but when an opportunity like this comes along you have to take advantage. Out of the corner of her eye she spied a girl in the same uniform the group of girls slip out of the museum and slowly being walking the opposite direct, obviously someone else was taking advantage of the situation as well. Once Ms. Castle had been whisked away and the students filed back to their own bus, Sierra nonchalantly retrieved her teacher’s disregarded purse and began digging through in search of her cell phone. “Where’s Ms. Castle?” the bus driver inquired. Popping her head up before anyone else could speak Sierra answered, “She wasn’t feeling well. After she made sure we were all getting on the bus she called an Uber home.” “Whatever.” The bored school employee closed the door to his yellow behemoth and began the trek home. Holding the cell at an angle, the freshman girl was able to see the swipe pattern on her teacher’s phone, replicated it and was free to scroll through the contacts. One named <3Ryan<3 jumped out as a logical place to start. Firing off a series of texts pretending Ms. Castle’s aunt had died and that she would be out of town for a few days ensured he wouldn’t go looking for her too early. The next thing she did was dial the ‘call in’ number and was greeted by a series of prompts, name, date off work and date of return. Filling in the appropriate information with off starting tomorrow and not returning until Monday would buy Thursday, Friday and the weekend off the school’s radar. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A nudge from the girl next to her jolted Hannah awake. Realizing she must have cried herself to sleep she peered out the window to get her bearings and was greeted by a wrought iron gate with the words ‘St. Anne’s Reformatory School for Girls’. She’d heard of it before, generally regarded as a disciplinarian school for kids who had been, for one reason or another, removed from their old schools in favor of a stricter daily regimen. The students all lived on campus during the year and the matrons, as evidenced by her earlier humiliation, had authority granted to them by the parents to use whatever corrective means was deemed necessary. Getting out would be an issue, especially now that she was more than forty miles from home with no access to money, a phone or her identification. Hannah was hardly surprised that security was waiting to escort her to class when it came time to exit the bus. The odds of overpowering the two men and running off to freedom seemed non-existent at best so she played along for the time being. As luck would have it, the time being didn’t take as long as she expected, a twinge in her bladder gave her an idea, raising her hand she waited to be called on before asking, “Miss, may I please be excused to the restroom?” “Can you hold it until the end of lesson?” Was the matron’s reply? “Sorry Miss, I don’t believe so.” Hannah played the good girl role to the max hoping it would help. Picking up a 2”x4”x6” block of wood with ‘Hall Pass’ burned on the surface she handed it to the out of place teacher, “Hurry back.” Taking care of the business that had inspired her breakout attempt, she poked her head out of the bathroom. Hallway clear, she stealthily tiptoed towards the nearest door, checking it and finding it unlocked she gave to handle a push. Alarms blared out, students flooded the halls and Hannah was busted. In short order she found herself forcibly bent over and spanked by the headmistress for the second time that day. “Honestly, child, I don’t know what has gotten into you. We haven’t finished the first week of classes and already you’ve had to be disciplined how many times?” Ms. Givens sighed. “Mind explaining what it is you were thinking?” “I’m 23, not a child and I don’t belong here!” Hannah fidgeted in her seat across the desk from her tormentor. “Just let me call me school, we can straighten all this out.” “Very well, if it gets you to shut up, I’ll play along with your little game.” The older woman picked up the phone, finger hovering over the buttons, “The number?” The well spanked teacher recited a number from memory, Ms. Givens dialed and put the call on speaker. After three rings someone answered, “DeWitt Public Schools, how can I help you?” “Can you confirm if a Hannah Castle works there?” the headmistress inquired. “One moment, I’ll transfer you.” The phone rang twice, “Ms. Castle’s room.” “Are you Hannah Castle?” Ms. Givens asked. Hannah burst out, “No, she’s one of the students from earlier.” “I am. Who’s asking?” Sierra’s voice queried over the speakerphone. “She’s lying!” the 23-year-old teacher pleaded. “Hush, you’ve earned yet another spanking little girl.” The older woman pressed the button to hang up and stared over the rim of her glasses, “Do I need to get Frank again or are you going to take your punishment without a fuss?” Having learned previously resistance was futile, Hannah stood up, bent over and counted out the twenty swats to her already sore bottom. Prior to being released back to class a warning was delivered that if she tried running away again alternative measures would have to be employed to safeguard against that possibility. Sulking, Hannah hung her head and allowed herself to be returned to her classroom, she’d have to wait until tonight when everyone was asleep to make another attempt. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Three: Darkness crept over St. Anne’s Reformatory School for Girls and Hannah sat biding her time. Having changed into the girls clothes she was supposed to be for before lights out call at 9:00pm, she figured all she had to do was let everyone fall asleep and she could slip out unnoticed. When the digital clock next to the bed clicked over to a new day it was time to make her move. Watching for the last three hours and provided the information she needed to make her grand exit; the guard that roamed the halls had just gone by and wasn’t due for another 30 minutes. As quiet as possible she slipped out the door to her room and immediately darted two doors down the hall to the roof access. From there she had a view of the entire property, eight-foot-high brick walls encircled the school leaving just the wrought iron gate at the entrance as the sole means of egress. Using the fire escape she found herself crouched behind some shrubs plotting a course to avoid as much of the ambient light as possible to the gate. Tree to tree she darted until at last she was mere inches from freedom, a push on the old iron bars, a groan of disagreement in response and she was off the property. “Stop right there!” A voice boomed behind her. Taking off in a sprint along the school’s driveway, Hannah knew her future depended on out running whoever was behind her. If this guard was as out of shape as the one from earlier, she’d be good to go; fate, however, was not on her side. Tackled to the ground a mere sixty meters from where she started, the 23-year-old burst into tears. “You don’t understand, you have to let me go. I don’t belong here.” “Sorry kid,” the guard helped her to her feet. “Not my problem, just doing my job.” Ms. Givens had proven to be unforgiving during the best of times, having roused her from bed in the middle of the night made her downright vicious. After fifty smacks to Hannah’s posterior, she launched into a speech about responsibility and consequences. In short, the 23-year-old would not be trusted on her own. Since the school didn’t have the resources to follow her around all day, her teacher would collect her from her room each morning and Hannah would not be allowed to leave the classroom for any reason during the day. A close eye would be kept on her in the cafeteria and post dinner she was to be locked in her room until the following morning. This would prevent her from access to the communal restrooms, so a potty chair was to be brought in for her to use. Exhausted from the day’s events, the out of place teacher fell into a fitful sleep. The following morning a matron roused her, made her dress in the other Hannah’s clothes and walked her to class where a plate of pancakes was waiting at her desk. Finishing them off as the students who belonged there began filing in, she raised her hand, “Miss, I need to use the restroom please.” “You know you are not permitted to leave. If you really have to go, your potty chair is in the back of the classroom.” The matron advised drawing a chorus of snickers from the other girls. “You can’t be serious!” Hannah was flabbergasted. “Don’t I get any privacy?” “You gave up your privacy when you tried running away three times in one day.” The older woman was unmoved. “Now you can use the potty chair whenever you need or try holding it until lunch in four and a half hours.” Eying the red and yellow plastic chair, the 23-year-old elected to hold it as long as she could. The tardy bell rang, lessons began, and the clock ticked agonizingly slow under Hannah’s constant gaze. Morning devotional was first on the agenda with the matron droning on about sin and redemption; this in turn giving way to the students taking turns reading aloud from Critical Terms for Religious Studies. Devout was not a term Hannah would use to describe herself, though she did believe there must be some kind of higher power out there in the universe. Squirming in her seat she tried to tune out both the monotone reciting of printed words and the growing pressure in her bladder. She was more successful with one than the other and after a scant thirty minutes her hand was waiving once again. “Miss, please, I really need to go to the bathroom.” “Ms. Ziegler, you know what your options are.” The matron dismissed her. “Now are you going to stop disrupting class or does your backside need a reminder on how to behave?” “No, ma’am.” Hannah sighed gazing back at the potty chair. She was going to have to figure out how to escape soon or the plastic throne was going to be her only option and she really didn’t want to have to humiliate herself in that fashion. A glance at the clock, three hours fifty minutes until lunch. How had she fallen so far, so fast? When it came time for her turn reading aloud the out of place teacher stumbled over a handful of words; the increasing pressure was becoming a major disruption to her normally higher cognitive function. Two and half more rotations of the larger hand around the circumference of the wall mounted timepiece brought it down to two hours and thirty-six minutes until relief. Squirming in her chair a squirt of pee soaked into Hannah’s ridiculous white granny panties. Panicked, the 23-year-old crossed her legs to stave of the inevitable for as long as possible. Deep down she knew she had waited too long to make her decision, even if she wanted to, she wasn’t going to make it to the red and yellow receptacle. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was going to wet her pants. Another quick spurt, the dam broke, and as a torrent flowed out of her, she idly wondered what the punishment for this would be. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Four “Ms. Ziegler! I can clearly see why your parents thought it was a good idea to send you to our school. Clearly, you are in need of some serious behavior correction.” The matron exclaimed upon seeing the growing puddle on her floor. Directing her attention to another student, “Lindsey, would you be so kind as to run and fetch a mop?” Wanting to defend herself, but unsure how, Hannah writhed in her seat, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. After a long silence, she was at last able to gasp out, “It’s not my fault. I didn’t do it on purpose.” “Young lady, it most certainly is your fault. You knew you had to use the restroom; at best you were unwilling to go from embarrassment, at worst you deliberately peed your pants trying to ditch class in yet another feeble escape attempt. Either way, the result is all over my floor, and you won’t be going anywhere until lunch when I can escort you to the nurse to get cleaned up.” The older woman lectured. In short order Lindsey returned, Hannah set about swabbing up the puddle on the floor while the rest of the class resumed their reading. Not wanting to make her predicament any worse than it already was, the 23-year-old begrudgingly took her seat when she finished her task. Two and a half long hours later, wherein the dampness between her legs cooled and itched, the lunch bell rang. Being led to the nurse’s office a chorus of laughter followed Hannah down the hall. Wanting nothing more than to yell at everyone to be quiet, to leave her alone and that she didn’t belong here, she bit her tongue. Who would believe that she really was 23 after witnessing her wet walk of shame? For her part the nurse, a woman barely older than herself, was very professional allowing the out of place teacher to strip the lower half of her body and wash off in the private bathroom. Emerging with a small towel wrapped around herself for modesty Hannah found that the nurse had disappeared along with her soiled clothes. This is a trap kept floating through her mind as she took advantage of being alone and ransacked the nurse’s office. Trying the desk phone first, she managed to get an outside line and dialed Ryan’s number, when he didn’t answer she left a message to come rescue her and provided as much information about her predicament as she could in the short time allotted. Next, she opened all the drawers and finding nothing of value, before quickly dashing back into the bathroom when she heard the door start to creak open. “I’ve brought you a fresh pair of clothes,” the nurse announced. Opening the door and taking the skirt, sock and panties, Hannah was once again dressed the part of schoolgirl. A quick mumbled ‘thank you’ to the nurse and the pair were on the way to the office of the headmistress. She was far less cordial than the nurse had been, delivering one hundred blows to the 23-year-olds already blistered backside then ordering the younger girl to have a seat. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself this time?” Ms. Givens inquired. Trying to find a comfortable way to position herself in the hardwood chair, Hannah choked back tears to answer, “It wasn’t my fault, having to use a stupid potty chair would be embarrassing so I was trying to hold it until lunch.” “More embarrassing than wetting your pants at your age? Honestly, I don’t know what we’re going to do with you. Never in my 27 years working here have I come across someone so hellbent on self-destruction.” Crimson cheeked the 23-year-old hung her head, “It won’t happen again, ma’am. I’ll use the potty chair from now on.” “You had better. Anymore ‘accidents’ and we’ll have to resort to more drastic measures.” The headmistress stood, took Hannah by the arm and returned her to class bypassing the lunchroom in the process. Twenty minutes of sitting in her seat with naught to do but watch her teacher eat a sandwich while she was apparently meant to go hungry did not improve her already foul mood. Wanting nothing more than to stand up and demand something to eat, Hannah debated whether it was worth it or not to anger the matron further, in the end the pain burning in her backside kept her firmly planted in her seat. By the time the rest of the students started to trickle in the classroom, her belly was grumbling in protest to that decision. Biology, or more specifically, the respiratory system was to be the topic for the afternoon lecture. Still able to remember about alveoli and plural membranes from an anatomy elective she took her senior year of college, the 23-year-old tried to focus on when Ryan would get her message and what he would do to rescue her. A sharp slap of a ruler on her desk broke the reverie, “Ms. Ziegler, you’ve been holding your stomach for the last hour. Why don’t you go use your potty, so we don’t have an even bigger disaster than this morning?” “I don’t need to go, Miss.” Hannah was relieved she wasn’t in trouble for her lack of attention. “I’m hungry is all, I wasn’t allowed lunch.” Non-plussed, the matron, hands on her hips glared down, “All the same, I think everyone in here would feel better if you gave it an honest effort. Who knows, you may even feel well enough when you’re done to listen to the lesson.” Having promised the headmistress to use childish receptacle, the 23-year-old slowly stood, keeping her gaze firmly on the tile floor as she ambled passed the other students. Discretely lowering her panties, she took her perch upon the plastic throne, adjusted her skirt to cover herself as best she could and buried her face in her hands. It seemed rather silly to have to prove she was a ‘big girl’ at her age, but hopefully when she successfully demonstrated she really didn’t have to go, the matron would relax on monitoring her bodily functions. ~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Five Checking his phone, Ryan saw that he had a voicemail from an unknown number and punched in his pin to give it a listen. It sounded like Hannah’s voice, but for some reason she was whispering, and he couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. Deciding to try her cell, he was sent to her voicemail. Instead of leaving a message he hung up and fired a quick text saying he wasn’t able to decipher her hushed rambling and that he hoped all was well with her family at the funeral. In a matter of minutes, a response came apologizing for the muted tone. Hannah had apparently stepped out of the service in need of consoling, but she was doing fine now, and she was grateful for his concern. Feeling relieved, he returned to his desk at work and began plugging numbers into the computer though something kept nagging at the back of his brain. Unable to put a finger on what exactly felt off, he tried to put it out of his mind and focus on the data entry he was being paid for. ~~~~~~ After ten minutes without tangible results, the matron allowed Hannah off the potty chair. Returning to her seat she heard snickers from her classmates and tried to ignore them. It wasn’t until she sat down that she realized they were laughing not at what had just happened, but what was about to, as someone had poured a liquid of some kind on her chair. Through no fault of her own, for the second time that day, she was sitting in a soaked skirt and panties. The question now was, raise her hand and tell the teacher someone had played a prank on her, or hope that it dried by the end of class and she didn’t notice. Hoping to be subtle, the 23-year-old slowly lifted the hem of her skirt to inspect the damage. Much to her chagrin, whoever had done this had planned ahead and used lemonade so as to give her formerly white panties a slightly yellowish hue. Deciding discretion was the way to go, she lowered her skirt and sat stoically, pretending that nothing was amiss. Of course, she wasn’t the only one who was aware of her predicament. “Miss!” The girl seated to Hannah’s right called out and raised her hand. “I think she’s had another accident.” Stomping to the out of place teacher’s desk, the matron pulled the 23-year-old out of her seat and inspected. “Now I know you’re doing this on purpose. You could have gone anytime while you were sitting on your potty chair but decided to wait and pee yourself at your desk.” “No, you don’t understand,” Hannah pleaded. “Someone must have put lemonade on my seat.” “Enough lies from you, young lady.” The redness in the matron’s face grew with the intensity of her voice. Grabbing Hannah’s ear, she started to pull her towards the classroom door, “Class, I want you to continue to read from your workbooks while I escort Ms. Ziegler to the nurse’s office.” Protests of innocence the entire way down the hallway fell on deaf ears, and deaf is what she thought she was going to become once the matron had ripped her ear off. At last they arrived at the appropriate door and her ailing ear was released from the older woman’s surprisingly strong grip. With a turn of the knob, the 23-year-old was roughly herded inside where the nurse looked up from a book she was engrossed in. Abandoning the reading material, she looked up, “Back so soon?” “She’s managed to wet herself again,” the matron responded as if Hannah wasn’t even there removing her skirt to show off the yellowed panties. Directing her question to the matron, the nurse asked, “She couldn’t make it to the potty chair in time?” “She had just returned to her seat after failing to make use of it. Deliberately peed all over herself out of spite.” “I’ll take care of her,” the nurse assured guiding the 23-year-old onto the exam table. With the matron leaving, the nurse tugged down her patient’s damp underwear and cleaned the now exposed crotch with a wet washcloth. “I swear, I didn’t wet myself!” Hannah once again tried to plead her case. “One of the other girls must have put something on my chair. Smell the panties, I bet they smell like lemonade not pee. You have to believe me!” “I will NOT be sniffing your underwear, young lady.” The nurse set down the washrag and retrieved something from a drawer beneath the table. “Now I tried to be nice to you before, but it’s my job to ensure the health and safety off everyone in this school. And since we can’t have you running around leaving puddles all over the place just because you don’t want to be here, I’m afraid I’m going to have to resort to a bit of a drastic measure. Lift your bottom for me.” Watching in horror as a large, bulky diaper was unfolded in front of her eyes the 23-year-old started to cry, “No, please, you can’t do this. I’m an adult, I don’t need diapers.” “I have no doubt you can control your bladder, that you choose to empty it at your desk instead of the restroom is the issue. The diaper is to protect other students from your bodily fluids.” Pinching Hannah’s butt, the nurse slid the padding into place when the younger girl jumped in response. “If you start behaving, you may only have to wear them for a few days. If not, well, it you’ll be in them considerably longer.” Knowing she couldn’t allow herself to be diapered without a fight, Hannah swatted the nurse’s hands away, she made an argument she thought she’d never have to make again after the age of three. “What about pullups then? That way people are protected, and I can use the bathroom when I need to.” “Sorry, kid, but you don’t get a vote.” The nurse expertly placed her body across her charge’s midsection to shield against any escape attempt or effort to stop the proceedings. Pulling the diaper up between the younger girl’s legs, it was soon fastened in place with a pair of plastic pants over top. “I’ll come get you after dinner and change you into your nighttime diaper. I’ll change you again before breakfast and at lunch and those are the only three changes you’ll get each day. Understand?” Trying to pull off the plastic pants, Hannah realized they were locked in place. With a pout she gave up for the time being, “Yes, ma’am.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Six Since she had ‘ruined’ two skirts already that day, a third was not forthcoming as Hannah was led back to class with nothing to cover her shameful new underwear. Raucous laughter greeted her, but thankfully the matron put a quick end to it and the remaining two hours of lessons passed with little else in the way of excitement. Dinner was a lonely affair as the other girls refused to sit near her, a small favor in an otherwise bad day. Managing to finish four tacos and two glasses of milk, she no longer felt like she was starving after being forced to miss the midday meal. True to her word, the nurse collected her after the meal was completed. Diaper still dry, a second was layered over top to ensure no leaks until the morning change twelve hours away. From there Hannah was locked in her room with nothing to do except try to find a way out of her crinkly prison. Searching the drawer in her room, she found a pair of rounded safety scissors and set to work on the plastic pants. Hacking, sawing and stabbing at the offending garment for over an hour produced negligible results and only served to make her feel sweaty and gross. Staring out the window of her room, the 23-year-old hoped Ryan came to save her soon. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I wonder how long we can keep her trapped there,” Sierra beamed holding up her former teacher’s phone in front of a room full of her friends. “I mean, I’ve got her boyfriend under control for now, so he won’t be looking. Maybe we should call her new school and check on her.” “Do it!” They chanted in unison. “Okay!” Sierra dialed St. Anne’s Reformatory School for Girls and waited for an answer. “Yes, I’d like to check on my daughter Hannah.” A long pause from the person on the other end of the phone had the girls gathered around holding their breath. “I’m afraid she’s been in a bit of trouble lately. Seems she’s been wetting herself deliberately and has had to be diapered to protect the other students.” Sierra had to keep her friends from giggling too loud at the news. “Yes, she’s always been a handful, that’s one of the reasons we chose to send her there. If you think it helps, you have our permission to keep her in diapers for the rest of the year. Do you think I could speak with her for a moment?” “If you could hold for a couple minutes, I’m sure that can be arranged.” Four minutes of crappy hold music later Hannah’s voice came over the phone, “Hello?” “Well hello Ms. Castle! I hear you’ve been a naughty girl and got yourself in diapers!” Sierra absolutely sparkled. Recognizing the voice, the 23-year-old begged, “Sierra! Please, I’m sorry I gave you detention. You have to tell them the truth and get me out of here!” “I don’t know,” the freshman girl responded. “I think you toddling around in diapers is kind of cute. You’ll have to come up with a very convincing argument to get me to change my mind.” “Automatic ‘A’, no detention ever, whatever you want! I can’t stay here!” Hannah implored. Hitting the ‘End’ button, Sierra and her friends broke down into fresh fits of laughter. This was too good to pass up, and while they hadn’t planned it, they certainly weren’t going to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth. Hoping to prolong their teacher’s agony, Sierra fired off a series of texts to <3Ryan<3 explaining that her aunt’s death had given her cause to evaluate her life and that she was breaking up with him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Furious beyond belief after the conversation with her student, Hannah threw the phone against the wall shattering it. She was about to throw whatever she could find when Ms. Givens latched onto her arm, twisted and bent her over the desk. Several hard smack to her thighs and the 23-year-old was a mess of tears and anger. Spinning around she landed a backhand to the headmistress’s face and bolted for the door. Two security guards blocked her path from there and she was once again trapped with little hope of escape. An exceedingly long and hard spanking later, Hannah was unceremoniously dumped in her room for the night. Despite the clock reading half passed eight in the evening, she was exhausted from her day and soon fell to sleep. Waking up at a quarter to four in the morning, the former teacher desperately needed the bathroom. Pacing about and pressing a hand between her padded legs, the 23-year-old tried to stave off the inevitable as long as she could. The nurse would be around to collect her in a little more than two hours, perhaps if she could hold it that long she’d get a reprieve to use the bathroom. Time ticked agonizingly slow, the teacher-turned-student bounced around her room and a few minutes before six she lost the battle to keep her pants dry. The relief was immediate but soon turned into revolution as she was now forced to wear her urine around until someone else decided to set her free. Wriggling, she flopped back on her bed only to be awoken by the nurse several minutes later. Allowed a brief shower, then clad in a fresh diaper, it was off to breakfast and the torment that was sure to be waiting for her there. Much like the previous evening, nobody seemed to want to associate with the diapered girl. Nibbling on some fresh fruit and a muffin, the 23-year-old sat in solitude and wondered what was taking Ryan so long to rescue her. Surely by now he’d have listened to the voicemail, why hadn’t he shown up and whisked her away? It had to be Sierra. She must have sent him a text and convinced him everything was okay. As the matron came to escort her to the classroom, Hannah started to formulate a plan to speak with him directly, no more messages. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Seven Ryan received the text telling him that Hannah was leaving him when he awoke for work early Friday morning. Having been dating for a while, he seriously doubted she would end things in that manner and tried calling but was sent to voicemail. With little other choice, he got ready for another exciting day of data entry and headed into the office, the entire time preoccupied by the strange way his girlfriend had been acting recently. Informing his boss he needed the afternoon off to attend to personal matters, he slogged away at the computer terminal in front of him until 11:00am. As quickly as possible he logged out, ran to his car and dialed DeWitt Schools on his cell phone. In a matter of minutes, a man’s voice answered. Apparently, he was the substitute the school had called in due to the regular teacher’s illness. Hanging up, he knew something was terribly wrong, why would Hannah tell him she had a funeral and the school that she was sick. Scrolling through the contacts on his phone he found his wayward girlfriend’s parents’ number and hit send. They in turn informed Ryan that their daughter had not said anything about being ill, and that there was no Aunt Sally. Telling them not to worry, he would get to the bottom of this mystery, he looked up just in time to see himself speeding through a red light. ~~~~~~~~~~ Midway through the morning’s geography lesson, Hannah lost her battle to keep her pants dry and thoroughly drenched her diaper. Telling herself it was a necessary evil if she was going to put her plan to use the nurse’s phone in motion didn’t take away the disgust she felt with every squish in her seat. By the time lunch rolled around she was almost willing to accept a fresh diaper without much fuss just to be rid of the urine soaked one strapped to her waist, but that wasn’t part of the strategy. As the nurse turned to throw away the used garment, the 23-year-old concentrated really had and began to pee on the exam table. “Young lady! You stop that right now!” the nurse chastised. “I hope whatever rebellious reason you had for that was worth it because your already bruised butt is certainly going to pay the price.” Remaining silent, Hannah allowed the new diaper to be taped on and locked in place. When the nurse left the room to find a mop, locking her charge in the office as a precaution, Hannah made a beeline for the phone. The first number she tried was Ryan’s cell phone, five rings later and no answer she moved on to his office line. Still no answer. Redialing his cell, she planned on calling until he picked up, no voicemails this time. On the third attempt, a hand came over her shoulder and ended the call. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” “Um. Ah. I’m…” the out of place teacher sputtered. “Don’t even bother trying to lie.” The nurse thrust a mop in Hannah’s direction. “I can see giving you a change midday just gives you an opportunity to be naughty. Perhaps we should do away with it and keep you double diapered through the day as well as at night. I’ll just have to come to your room before breakfast and after dinner to attend to your needs; but at least that way you won’t be able to cause trouble.” “No! That isn’t fair!” the 23-year-old protested. A stern look, “What isn’t fair is having a teen girl peeing all over the place. Now let’s get you to the headmistress for your punishment so maybe you’ll have time to eat lunch today.” Not wanting a repeat of yesterday afternoon, Hannah begrudgingly submitted to her fifty spanks. Tears still streaming down her cheeks, she managed to make it to the lunchroom in time to snag a turkey sandwich, some Cheetos and a Coke. Wolfing them down in short order, the matron escorted her back to class for the start of the afternoon lesson in Family Studies. The girls were separated into groups of five and each was given a job to hold the family together, to nobody’s surprise the diapered girl was labeled the baby of her family. Playing the 1990 classic ‘Oregon Trail’, they had to work together as a unit to decide when to press ahead, how to ration food and at what pace to travel. As a history teacher, Hannah was knowledgeable in the time period and fully expected to make the journey easier on everyone by offering helpful insights. Unfortunately, the rest of the group thought the only thing the baby was good for was sucking her thumb and piddling her pampers. Having ignored her suggestions, the 23-year-old really didn’t care if they failed the assignment, it wasn’t as if she actually attended the school. Surprisingly, the group was only one of two that managed to navigate the harsh conditions. When it came time to present how they had managed the feat, the group’s leader gave credit to herself and the other three for the collaboration. The matron thanked them for their candor and asked, “What about the fifth member of your group? Did she not participate in the exercise?” “She did.” The group leader responded lifting Hannah’s skirt and rubbing the soggy padding between her legs. “She played the part of baby to perfection.” Blushing, the out of place teacher swatted the other girl’s hands away and returned to her seat, but not before a chorus of laughter echoed around the room. They didn’t understand she sulked; she didn’t want to use the diaper, but the stupid school was making her. She had tried holding it before; it was really uncomfortable and just ended up with her wetting her pants anyway, so why not let go when she had to? Once Ryan came to save her, everything would be better. She’d be free and no more wet diapers, but what was taking him so long? ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Eight Sierra was absolutely giddy leaving school Friday afternoon. Two whole days with no homework was just what the doctor ordered. Well, that and the excitement of checking on how Ms. Castle was doing in her new role. Gathering her friends around her on the bus ride home, she fished out her former teacher’s phone and called St. Anne’s. After a couple rings, she was greeted by a secretary inquiring how she could be of service. “Yes, I wanted to check on Hannah. See if her behavior had improved any.” “I’m afraid not.” The voice replied. “She’s in class now, would you like me to let her know you called?” Thinking for a second Sierra grinned, “No, that’s alright. Might I speak with Ms. Given’s please?” In a matter of seconds, the two were connected and the headmistress asked, “Mrs. Ziegler, I regret to inform you that your daughter seems hell bent on urinating on everything she can; perhaps I could get you to authorize an alternative way of managing this?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dinner was pepperoni pizza, traditionally one of Hannah’s favorites, spoiled a bit this time by the sopping wet diaper strapped to her waist. A couple bread sticks and three slices later, she was being shepherded by the nurse to her room for the evening change. Having decided to accept it and get it over with, the 23-year-old lay on her bed, allowed the nurse access to her formerly private parts and let out a gasp of surprise when she felt something sliding inside her. “What was that?” “Your mother called earlier and agreed that since you seem to want to use your control of your bodily functions to try manipulating me, that it might be best if we take that control away until you learn your place.” Sitting up, Hannah saw a small tube sticking out of herself, “What’s that?” “That is a catheter. It will ensure that you can’t hold out and pee all over during your changes. Take these,” the nurse produced two pills and a glass of water, “they’ll help.” “You’re making me incontinent!” the 23-year-old was flabbergasted. “You can’t do that! Take it out!” Simply pulling the diaper up between her charges legs as pee began to drip onto the thirsty padding the nurse replied, “As I said, we have permission. Now take your pills.” Wondering how much worse things could get, Hannah swallowed the medication, if only to protect her bruised derriere. “What are they for?” “I noticed you haven’t had a bowel movement in the last two days. One is a stool softener, the other is designed for gentle overnight relief of your constipation.” Eyes bulging, the diapered girl looked down to see the plastic pants being locked into place. Pawing at the garment, “Wait, no!” “Everything will be alright and remember that tomorrow is Saturday, so you’ll be allowed to sleep in a bit, but I’ll be by in the morning to check on you.” The nurse walked to the door, closing and locking it behind her. “Wait! Come back! You can’t do this to me!” Hannah pounded on the room’s only means of escape. For over an hour she kicked and clawed, but no one came to her rescue. Flopping back on the bed, she could already feel a dampness growing in her crotch. Double diapered, there really wasn’t much chance at a leak, but she still had to find a way to get the infernal plastic pants off before an even worse disaster ensued. Unsure of how long she tugged and shimmied in vain, the 23-year-old awoke at quarter to five in the morning with a rumbling in her tummy. Frantic, she resumed her quest to beat the door down to no avail. Sopping wet diaper already hanging heavily on her hips, a cramp doubled her over in pain. It was then her body betrayed her and involuntarily squatted to release two days’ worth of muck into the seat of her pants without her say so. One last gaseous eruption brought her torment to an end, and the former teacher sobbed as her legs gave out and she sank down into her mess with a squelch. Laying there on the floor, curled up in the fetal position, Hannah couldn’t help but feel sorry for herself. How had her life come to this? For two hours, she wavered between sorrow and anger at the events of the last couple days, until the nurse arrived and let her free to shower the disgusting mess off. Steamy water cascading down her body provided a temporary reprieve, but all good things come to an end, and sooner than she would have liked the nurse was laying the 23-year-old down on a bench in the communal bathroom to tape on a clean diaper. Resigning herself to her fate, she covered her eyes and pretended there weren’t a bunch of teen girls around to witness her humiliation. ~~~~~~~~~ Standing alone in a room and staring passed the video camera in front of him, Ryan fixed his gaze on the television behind it which displayed the courtroom he was attending virtually. Apparently when you slam into a car while talking on your phone, and running a red light, and the other driver is injured, it’s a misdemeanor, which would be why he was facing a judge this morning. Even if there hadn’t been witnesses, the camera mounted to the traffic light had him on camera. The best bet would be to admit his guilt and plead for leniency from the court. “Do you understand the charge against you?” the judge was asking. Looking solemn he replied, “I do your honor.” “And you understand that if you plead guilty today that your license will be suspended for six months and you could face up to 120 days in jail?” “I do your honor.” “Very well, a plea of guilty will be entered in the record and sentencing will be scheduled one week from now. Defendant is released on his own recognizance.” Flipping to the next manila folder in front of her the judge read off the next docket number and Ryan was free to leave the courtroom. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Nine Headmistress Givens scrolled lackadaisically through her emails, most of it spam the same as everyone else on the planet, until she noticed one from the Ziegler’s. Opening it to see if they had any ideas for their disruptive daughter her mood quickly shifted from bored to terrified. They had been galivanting around Europe when much to their surprise they received a call from their housekeeper reporting their daughter was back home. Two things became immediately clear, the girl she had thought was Hannah Ziegler most certainly wasn’t, and that the Ziegler’s actual daughter must have slipped away the day of the field trip. Firing off a response, she informed the flummoxed parents that their daughter had run away but that the school was in the process of sending security to retrieve her post haste. Now what to do with the other Hannah? Apologizing and letting her go seemed the sanest course of action, but the woman would certainly bring forth a lawsuit over her treatment that would undoubtedly close St. Anne’s down for good. A deep breath to calm herself down, the headmistress pressed a button on the intercom and requested Hannah be brought to her office. ~~~~~~~~~ Hanging out at the mall, Sierra was somewhat surprised when a call came in on her former teacher’s phone from the DeWitt Police Department. Answering, she queried, “Hello, how can I help you?” “Not to bother you ma’am,” the gruff voice began. “But we received a report that you might be in danger. Is everything alright with you?” Realizing that Ryan must have gone to the police about his disappearing girlfriend, Sierra replied, “I’m quite fine. Did my ex-boyfriend put you up to this? I’m sorry that you had to get involved, but he’s been a bit erratic lately and I’m doing my best to separate myself from him.” “No worries, ma’am.” The voice reassured. “He said you were in danger and we had to check it out, you understand.” “Of course,” the high school freshman answered. “Thank you for being so concerned. I’d appreciate it though if you could try to keep him from trying to contact me in the future.” “Yes ma’am.” The officer acknowledged. “I will be sure to let him know that you are just fine and that he is not welcome to contact you.” ~~~~~~~~ “Let me out!” Hannah banged on the door to her room. “I really need to use the bathroom!” Silence answered. A full two minutes of it. Slinking down to the floor, the 23-year-old clenched as hard as she could but the pressure on her backside was too strong. What hadn’t been expelled earlier was now making itself known and the former teacher was desperate to stop it from making an exodus now. Hand clasped firmly to her behind, she was taken aback when a matron came around and requested her to follow. “Where are we going?” Not bothering to look back the matron replied, “The headmistress wants to see you.” “Oh.” Hannah was unsure what to make of this development, she hadn’t done anything to get in trouble lately, so she didn’t know what her sore bottom was in store for now. Still trying to hang on to as much dignity as she could, the 23-year-old kept a hand pressed to her backside as she entered the older woman’s office. Curtseying without giving up her fight she asked, “What do you require, ma’am?” “You’re dismissed,” Ms. Givens addressed the matron. Alone in the room she looked over the girl in front of her. “It comes to my attention that you may be telling the truth.” “Yes! I told you I’m really 23 and a schoolteacher!” “And therein lies the problem,” Ms. Givens inhaled. “You’ve been subjected to our methods without consent. Now, I could let you go, but you’d probably sue.” “I wouldn’t.” Hannah did her best to reassure the older woman while maintaining what little control she had over her bowels. “You let me go back to my school and I’ll forget all about what happened here.” Leaning back in her chair, the headmistress frowned, “I wish I could believe you.” “You can, I can forget all of this, just let me go!” Both hands pressed to her backside Hannah bent over in an attempt to remain untainted and failed. “How I wish that was true,” The older woman commented as she watched the girl before her squat down and the diaper she was wearing balloon out. “Unfortunately, I cannot risk this school on your whims. Which unfortunately means I’m going to have to make sure you can’t tell anyone what you’ve experienced.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~ After the earlier close call with the police, Sierra was unsure if her ruse had been discovered. Mulling it over a bit, she dialed St. Anne’s Reformatory School. In a matter of moments, she was connected with Ms. Givens. “How is my Hannah doing?” “She isn’t your daughter, is she?” The headmistress queried. Taken by surprise, the teen wasn’t sure how to answer, “I’m, ah, she’s, what?” “As I thought, she really is your teacher. Which leaves us somewhat dependent upon each other.” Ms. Givens countered. “As much as I would like to be mad at you, we’re somewhat reliant on each other at this point. Even though I’ve discovered the truth, I cannot release her now or the school would be ruined. I can find a way to keep her here indefinitely if you can manage to keep anyone from inquiring about her.” Flabbergasted, the 14-year-old responded, “I mean, I guess I could try. What are you going to do to Ms. Castle?” “In all likelihood, I’ll move her somewhere I can keep a close eye on her. That way we won’t have to worry about her chances of escape.” Hanging up, the young teen couldn’t help but think about the early bedtimes and droopy diapers that lay ahead for her former teacher. This was turning out to be the best prank ever pulled at DeWitt High School no questions asked, too bad she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone outside of her friends about it. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Ten Under the cover of the Saturday night darkness at a pay phone outside the town gas station seemed like the perfect place to make the call Ms. Givens once thought she’d never make. Punching in the numbers a man picked up on the third ring and the headmistress queried, “Brian?” “Yep. Who’s this?” Breezing passed a reply and onto the matter at hand, “Once upon a time you made me an offer to assist with a troublesome student in need of a more permanent solution. Does that still stand?” “It does!” the man sounded excited. “Give me the details on her and I can start right away on making arrangements for her arrival to town.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Thirteen hours and thirty-seven minutes. That’s how long Ryan had been seeking a ride on both Uber and Lyft for someone to chauffer him to St. Anne’s Reformatory School when early Sunday morning a response came saying a driver was eight minutes away. Forty minutes after that he was at the front gate and leaving a five-star review. Ringing the bell he briefly explained the situation and was admitted onto campus. “You said you were looking for Hannah Castle?” Ms. Givens asked offering him a seat. “Yes.” He said sitting down. “I received a voicemail from her the other day mentioning the name of this school and nobody has seen her since before that.” “She was here briefly,” the headmistress conceded. “We accidentally thought she was a student that had wandered off on a field trip but once we realized our error, we let her go. That must be when she called you, to get a ride home.” “So, she was here but is gone now?” Perking up a bit because he was buying her story, Ms. Givens continued. “That’s right. We ended up giving her a ride when nobody answered. One second, I have the address where she was dropped off at here somewhere. Ah, there it is, 430 N. Scott Rd.” “That would be her apartment building.” Ryan sighed. “Did she say anything that might give a clue where or what she was planning on doing once she was home?” When the headmistress told him no, the more-confused-than-ever-boyfriend thanked her for her time and the generous offer of a ride, but his Uber driver was waiting at the gate. Returning home, he contacted Hannah’s parents once more, but they hadn’t heard from her either. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Hannah lay on her back with a cold wet wipe removing the urine from her crotch and wondering what exactly was planned for her. There was no way Ms. Givens could get away with keeping her here now that she knew the truth about her identity. The old bat would have no choice but to let her go, all she had to do was wait it out. Snapped out of her reverie by a pinch to her backside, the 23-year-old lifted her hips so a fresh diaper could be taped on. As the nurse left, Ms. Givens entered. “Let’s get you dressed, it’s time we got you out of here.” I knew it, Hannah thought to herself, she just needed time to realize it. “Do I get my panties back?” “But you look so cute in your diapees.” The headmistress gave a pat to the younger girls padded bottom. “Besides, panties are for girls who can control their bladders.” “You know I can.” Hannah glared at the older woman. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that, you just got changed and you’re already a bit damp. Now get some clothes on, there’s a man who’s been looking for you for quite some time here to collect you.” A wave of relief washed over the teacher, abandoning the argument she hurriedly pulled on a skirt. Since nothing in the room belonged to her, there was nothing to gather and Hannah was soon following the headmistress down the hall towards the entrance. Stepping outside the sight of a moving truck and a tall, dark-haired gentleman greeted her. “That’s not Ryan. What’s going on?” “I’m here to take you home little girl.” The man said, walking over to her and in a flash, he had injected her with a needle. ~~~~~~~~~~ It was dark out when Hannah awoke, her hands and feet were bound, and her mouth was gagged. Struggling in vain in the passenger seat of the moving truck as it barreled down an unknown highway earned her a smirk from the man driving. Scared, she sank back down in her seat to realize her diaper was leaking, her eyes soon followed suit until her body was racked with full blown sobs. “It’s okay, baby.” The man stroked the 23-year-old’s hair. “I know you probably have a lot of questions, and I promise I’ll answer them soon enough, but for now I need you to relax. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” Wanting nothing to do with this man, his explanations or whatever hell he was taking her too, the teacher started to bang on the window desperately hoping to gain the attention of a passing car. Several muffled grunts escaped through the gag as she put all her effort into escape as a pair of headlights pulled along on her side of the truck. Just as she could see the woman driving it, she felt a sharp poke to her neck and once again crumbled to sleep. When the 23-year-old woke again, it was still dark, and she was laying in a crib with a relatively dry diaper strapped to her hips, but the gag and restraints had been removed. Electing to remain silent for now, she studied the bars surrounding her looking for a way to lower them. When she spotted the lock on the top of her cage, she started screaming, whoever this guy was he was the only way of getting out. In short order the creepy guy was turning the lights on to illuminate the oversized nursery they were in. “What is it babykins? You hungry?” “Fuck you! Let me out of here!” “Oh, sweetie, I know we haven’t gone over the rules yet, but you should still know better than to use bad words. Are you trying to earn yourself a spanking?” What the fuck? Is this guy serious? What the hell did I do to deserve this? “No.” “That’s a good girl,” he cooed. “From now on, baby talk only. Though I suppose I should explain a few things, starting with, welcome to Preston, Kansas.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Eleven “Now before you can officially start your new life here, we’ll have to go to court and make it official.” Brian took a seat in a rocking chair nearby the crib Hannah was trapped in. “There you’ll go on record and declare that you are incapable of caring for yourself and would like me to become your legal guardian. The-” “Why the hell would I do that?” the 23-year-old exclaimed in disbelief. A sharp look in the diapered girl’s direction, “You no longer have a job, a place to live or any money. You obviously need someone to help care for you. Besides, if you refuse to do it voluntarily, I can have a doctor come in and testify to your helplessness and as I was saying before you rudely interrupted, the judge is a personal friend of mine. I WILL be given legal custody of you, and if you make me angry, I WILL find ways to make your babyhood worse.” “Babyhood? I’m 23. Don’t you think people will find it fucked up that your ‘baby’ is actually an adult?” “Not in Preston. It’s a haven for girls such as yourself who, for one reason or another, have been declared incompetent and need caregivers. Some are willing participants, and others need a bit of persuasion, but those that do, eventually come around to enjoy their new life.” Incredulous, Hannah shook the crib bars, “Let me out of here! I’m not going to be your baby ya fucking psycho!” Calmly standing, the man walked to the makeshift prison his captive was in and unlocked it. In one swift movement he yanked Hannah out, ripped off her diaper and began to spank her already bruised backside. Ignoring her pleas for mercy, he wailed away until the former teacher was a blubbering mess then angrily deposited her back in the crib leaving the used diaper on the floor. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Just accept the amazing opportunity you’ve been presented to live carefree; no worries, no responsibilities and if you’re a good girl, no spankings.” Simultaneously trying to soothe her throbbing bottom and keep her nakedness hidden, Hannah croaked out between sobs, “I don’t want to be a baby.” “How do you know until you try?” Brian’s tone softened and he gently stroked her back. Spotting urine dripping from the catheter onto the plastic sheets, “How about we get you into a fresh diapee?” The question was rhetorical, and the 23-year-old knew it, allowing him to carry her to the change table and lay her on it in the hope that if she complied, she wouldn’t be hit again. “Why me? Why am I so special to you?” “I’ve been looking for a troubled girl for quite some time now. Someone who needs a second chance to be raised right, so she won’t be a delinquent.” He pulled a thick pink diaper from under the table and slid it beneath her. “But I’m not delinquent. I’m a teacher.” “Sure you are, sweetie.” A wet wipe in hand he delicately cleaned her intimate area. “It’s good to have dreams about what you want to be in case you grow up right this time.” The plastic garment now secured snugly to her waist, Hannah sat up, “Grow up?” “In Preston Little One’s are assigned an age and progression type within a week of moving in. I’ve decided that you’ll be starting anywhere between newborn and one year old depending on how complaint you are in court. Now I’m not a fan of the ‘static’ option for aging, which would be you remaining your starting age the rest of your life. So, I’ll either assign you ‘natural’, in which you age at a normal rate or ‘variable’ wherein you only age when I allow it. As you may have guessed, that too will depend on your behavior in front of the judge.” Gulping, not only at the implications of what he was saying, but also at the ease with which he was carrying her down a hallway towards what appeared to be a kitchen, the 23-year-old realized escape was not going to be easy. As she was placed into a highchair with locking table, she asked, “Is that all?” “Not quite.” He turned to open the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of milk to warm in the microwave. “As a baby you’ll of course be expected to make use of a vocabulary that’s age appropriate. There’s also an option to have you breastfed. I’d of course hire a wet nurse should you earn that particular punishment.” “If I understand this then, if I don’t do exactly what you want at the guardianship hearing, you’ll hire a doctor to ensure I’ll end up your baby regardless. In turn, I’ll most likely be a newborn that gets breastfed and never ages.” The microwave beeped, Brian tested the warmth of the milk and finding it satisfactory handed it to Hannah. “Quite right.” Thirsty, the former teacher began to suckle the offered drink, striving and failing to keep the image of having to do this from some strange woman’s breast out of her mind. As horrible as it would be to go on record and admit she wanted this asshole to be her guardian, the thought of being stuck as a newborn the rest of her life was far worse. But could she go through with it? It wouldn’t be giving up; it would be playing the long game. Besides, if she ever hoped to get the judgement voided, she’d have to be able to argue that she was coerced into making her statement and not let a doctor go on record against her. So, the game plan was, bide time, earn trust and gain the ability to walk; if she were to start as a one-year-old that shouldn’t take too long. Then one day on a trip to the park, or wherever, he’d turn his back for a spilt and she’d be able to make her move. The sad realization dawning on her, “I’ll do it. I’ll volunteer in court to be your baby.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Twelve The morning was spent shopping. As she had yet to attend court, Hannah was allowed to walk and talk like an adult; however, the clothes she was made to try on were not. By the time Brian was satisfied with the haul, no less than a dozen onesies of varying designs and colors had been purchased as well as two cases of diapers. Embarrassing as it was, the 23-year-old wasn’t the only one in this fetish town run amok dressed solely in a snap crotch outfit. Soaking wet diaper held firmly to her crotch, Hannah debated asking for a change and the opportunity to use the restroom to take care of the bodily function she still had control over. “Um, Brian, can I-” “Babies don’t call their parents by their first names,” he eyed her in the car’s rearview mirror before turning into a doctor’s office parking lot. “What are we doing here?” Finding a spot, getting out and opening the rear door to unbuckle the baby woman, he responded, “Just a routine checkup, nothing to be worried about. He’ll be replacing the catheter the school put in as well, safety first.” “Do I really have to have a catheter?” “For now, yes.” Brian held the 23-year-olds hand and led her inside the building. “After all, babies don’t control when they use their diapees, do they?” Deflated, Hannah answered, “No.” In short order, she was admitted, laid on an exam table with a clean diaper laid out beneath her and the schools catheter replaced. Rolled over, a thermometer was inserted into her backside. While the mercury did its work growing to show her temperature, the doctor took out a hollow tube and began to apply lubricant. Announced to be healthy at an even 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit, the lubed-up tube replaced the thermometer in her back passage. Before she could protest the latest intrusion, the diaper was secured snugly to her hips. Trying to reach her hand down the back of her plastic prison, Hannah demanded, “What did you put in me? Get it out!” “I told you before,” Brian grinned wickedly, “Babies don’t control when they use their diapees.” “What?!?! No!” the former teacher could already feel the mess she had been holding in start to coat the inside of her undergarment. Powerless to stop it, she began to cry, “It’s gross, make it stop!” Picking her up, her new daddy gave the diaper a couple pats, “There, there, sweetie. You’ll get used to it.” Her pleas that she didn’t want to get used to it fell on deaf ears as she continued to helplessly poop her pants. With just a half hour before their court appointment, she hoped it would be over before they got there, but at the glacial pace it was going, she doubted it. Given a pen and a pad of paper on the way to the courthouse, the 23-year-old baby was told to write a letter to her friends and family to let them know she was alright and that they needed look for her. She had wondered how he planned to keep her loved ones at bay, but he was going to make her do it herself. Realizing it wasn’t all bad news, she set about the task and managed to include a hidden message she hoped someone would be able to decipher. Please don’t be upset at what I am about to tell you. Right now, I’m not sure what direction I wish my life to go in. Everything was fine, but that was it, just, fine. Sadly, the life I was living wasn’t what I wanted it to be. To that end, I’ve decided to step back and take some time to discover who I really am. One thing that I’ve always wanted to do was travel and experience other cultures. Now that may seem like something I could do with a simple vacation; I need more time than a couple weeks to truly experience what I need to make myself feel whole. Know that I love you and I will be back. Sorry that this takes you by surprise. Selling all my possessions will fund this little endeavor to start and I will take jobs as needed to continue my quest so don’t worry about me. And though I will be out of touch, I will be thinking of you often. Venice will most likely be my first stop. Eventually, I’ll tour Tokyo, Sydney and Rio de Janeiro as well. May fortune guide my journey. Elvis has left the building! Brian carefully read over her magnum opus and not immediately finding anything alarming therein, agreed to mail copies to her parents, Ryan and a few other close friends. A quick stop at the post office and Hannah’s hope for rescue was soon to be on it’s way. ~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Thirteen With a mere three minutes to spare, Hannah was toddling alongside Brian into the county courthouse. Taking seats in the front row, the people nearby elected to cover their noses and scoot away lest they have to smell the contents of the 23-year-olds diaper. For her part, the former teacher once again questioned whether or not she could go through with it; could she willing give up adulthood. Humiliating yes, but undoubtedly brief. The letters had been sent out, surely someone would break the code and swoop in to rescue her. Sighing as her name was called by the bailiff, the diaper clad woman waddled to the indicated chair in the witness box. “State your name for the record,” the white haired, black robed man behind the bench boomed. Cheeks flushing red as all eyes in the room panned to her, “Hannah Elaine Castle.” “Do you swear the testimony you are giving today will be truthful and of your own volition?” The judges nose wrinkled. “Do you need a moment, Ms. Castle?” Brian stood smoothing his shirt, “Your honor, we were running late and I didn’t have an opportunity to change her. If you would like I could do so now.” “Please do,” the judge banged his gavel. “Court will take a short recess.” Taken by the hand, Hannah was led in the direction of the restrooms. Upon seeing that Brian intended to take her to the men’s room, she stopped earning a swat to her messy backside. “They don’t have a family restroom here and I can’t go in the women’s.” “But I” the 23-year-old stammered and was dragged through the door. Immediately inside, next to a row of sinks was the baby change station. “But they’ll all see!” Plopping his charge on the now open table, “That’s something you’ll get used to sweetie. Now lay back, we don’t want to keep the judge waiting too long.” Covering her eyes with her hands, Hannah didn’t want to know how many strange men were there to witness as her bottom was wiped clean. Evidently, the onesie she had on had managed to collect some of the mess and was whisked off. Naked as the day she was born, it seemed ironic that this should be happening on the day she started her second infancy. Agonizing seconds passed as Brian dug through the diaper bag removing a fresh diaper and clean onesie. Once she was dressed again, it was back to the courtroom. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I’m glad we could clear the air,” Nick Roach, private investigator said leaning back in his oak office chair. “Because I don’t do stalking cases. So long as you’re willing to let her go if that’s what she truly wants when I find her.” Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled, “Like I said, I want to know she’s alright. She disappeared from her life and nobody’s heard from her in days. If the text was genuine and she doesn’t want anything to do with me, so be it, but I have to know.” “I’ll just need access to all your texts, emails, notes, anything I can use to start pulling the tendrils of this web.” The P.I. stood to shake his new client’s hand. “I can promise results, just be prepared that you might not like them. Now if you’ll excuse me, time is of the essence, the trail grows colder with each passing hour and as you say, she’s already been gone for days.” ~~~~~~~~~~~ “I do, your honor.” Hannah stated for the record. Dreading the next question, she shifted in her seat and noticed the dampness already gathering in her crotch. How many wet and dirty diapers did she have to look forward to before she was rescued. The pounding of a gavel broke her reverie, “Earth to Ms. Castle. Why do you wish to turn conservatorship over to Mr. Watson?” “Uh, because I don’t have a job, money or a place to live,” the 23-year-old hung her head unable to look at the people filling the room. “And because I am incapable of doing basic things on my own, like changing my own diapers.” “Do you feel that you will never be able to, as you say, do basic things on your own? That Mr. Watson absolutely needs to have full control of your life?” A gulp. “Yes, your honor.” “Very well.” The judge announced. “From this point forth, you shall be deemed a ward in the care of Mr. Brian Watson, and he shall have full power over your finances and other life decisions. You’re dismissed, next case.” Just like that, Hannah was no longer an adult in the eyes of the law. Taking her caregiver’s hand, she was led to his car and buckled into her car seat. The drive to Preston was relatively short, so she didn’t have too long to wallow before he was unbuckling her to go into the town hall where her age, progression and the remainder of her life would be determined. She was about to start waddling on her own when Brian scooped her up and carried her to the rear of his car. With his free hand, an oversized stroller was pulled from the trunk. “What’s” the 23-year-old was cut off as she was unceremoniously dumped into the stroller and a pacifier shoved between her lips. “Ah, ah, you’re officially mine now,” Brian beamed pushing the diapered woman up the walkway and into the building. “No more adult worries for you.” A woman in her thirties and wearing lingerie greeted them, “I heard we were getting a new baby, isn’t she precious?” “Thank you. We’re here to finalize her paperwork.” “I have it right here,” the sex-retary held up a sheet of paper. “Let’s see, Hannah Castle, age eight months. No breastfeeding injection, that’s too bad, and the little darling will only get older when her daddy allows it.” Spitting out the pacifier, Hannah was furious, “You said-” Slapping her exposed thigh, Brian gave the overgrown baby a stern look and replaced the pacifier. “You’re no longer old enough to speak, only babble. Any attempts to do so will make the spanking you got earlier seem gentle. Do I make myself understood?” Reminding herself it was only temporary until her friends and family got her letter, the 23-year-old nodded meekly. She watched helplessly as Brian signed the paper returning her to infancy then proceeded to flirt with the lingerie clad secretary. For her part, Hannah prayed to the postal service to break land speed records. ~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Fourteen Returning to her new home, no, it wasn’t her home she thought, it was a temporary prison, Hannah wasn’t sure what else the creep who had adopted her was planning. Once inside, she was placed into a large playpen that she could have easily stepped out of should the situation call for it, and a pair of bondage mittens were attached over her hands. Letting out a sigh, the 23-year-old plopped down onto her padded backside to try to figure a way to remove the newest torture device. Forty minutes of tugging and gnawing later, she was no closer to a solution when Brian came back into the room. “Having fun, sweetie?” He walked over to the plastic cage and bent down to reach a hand between the former teacher’s legs. “Just as I thought, sopping wet. Let’s get you changed before company gets here.” Hannah knew that other people were going to inevitably see her like this, but she’d hoped to keep the number to a minimum. As much as she wanted to protest, she weighed it against whether or not it was worth the spanking, something she was becoming far too familiar with, and decided how bad could it really be? All the freaks in this town probably saw loads of women in diapers. At her caregivers prompting, she rolled over onto the changing pad he’d laid out. Four loud rips unsealed the crinkly plastic from the 23-year-olds hips. The front panel pulled halfway down, there was a knock on the door and Brian yelled for them to enter. Another round of humiliation greeted Hannah as a younger couple, perhaps around her real age, walked in to see her crotch being wiped clean. The man pushed a stroller with a woman in her mid-30’s and clearly diapered inside, “Brian! It’s about time you got a young one of your own.” “Kevin, Joan, pleasure to have you over.” Brian responded while sliding a fresh diaper under his charge’s hips. “May I?” The woman named Joan cooed and sauntered over to hover over the former teacher. When Brian gave way, she pulled the front panel of the clean diaper up to Hannah’s belly and blew a raspberry on the exposed skin. Despite herself, the 23-year-old giggled. Absorbent underwear taped in place; the adults moved several feet over to the living room leaving the two diapered women alone in the playpen. Wanting a few answers but unsure how to go about asking, Hannah crawled beside her playmate and whispered, “What’s your name? How’d you end up here?” A series of gurgles behind a pacifier were the response. “What the fuck? Do you have mush for brains?” The former teacher hissed. A loud wail pierced the room causing Kevin to rush to the playpen, “Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Pointing a finger in Hannah’s direction, the woman wrapped the other arm around her caregiver’s neck allowing him to pick her up. Seeing this, Brian stormed over, “What did you do, young lady?” Stunned by the turn of events, Hannah remained silent. Attention then turned to the 30-something woman being comforted, “She use big girl words.” All eyes returned to the 23-year-old as she was summarily ripped across Brian’s lap. Pulling her diaper down, his hand reigned supreme with one spank landing between every word, “You. Know. Better. Then. To. Use. Adult. Words. Claire. May. Be. 18. Months. Old. But. You. Don’t. Get. To. Pretend. To. Be. Old. Enough. To. Be. A. Big. Girl.” Bawling as her already bruised derriere was pommeled mercilessly, Hannah begged for forgiveness. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to know who she is!” “No. Adult. Words.” Three more spanks blistered an already red behind. Relenting, he pulled her diaper back into place. “Babies don’t care who their friends are. They play with whomever their mommies and daddies arrange for them to play with.” Sniffling, the 23-year-old curled up on the playpen floor. Her playmate, Claire, was set down beside her and was soon crawling over to play with a stuffed rabbit. Realizing that conversation was a non-starter, Hannah pouted and watched her counterpart bounce her fluffy friend around in circles. The adults resumed their conversation, and the former teacher did her best to listen in without appearing too interested. “Really, it’s not a bother,” Joan was saying. “When we first adopted Claire, she absolutely refused to be a good baby. It wasn’t until we really embraced the ‘apple a day keeps the doctor away’ mentality that she started to behave. Have you considered finding someone to do that for little Hannah?” “I’m not sure I want her to have that kind of experience anymore.” Brian confessed. “After all I’m trying to get her to believe all adult things are in her past.” Kevin interjected, “And they can be. It’s far more clinical than adult and can work wonders for obedience.” “Did you have someone you recommend?” “We can call our man, Scott. I’m sure Claire would be happy to demonstrate.” Brian approved, Joan disappeared to the kitchen and the men broke into a discussion on sports. A few minutes later, Joan reappeared informing the other that Scott would be there in 20 minutes and the three proceeded to engage in idle banter until the doorbell rang. Brian answered to usher in a man with long brown hair down to the middle of his back. Claire began to bounce up and down while clapping at the sight of him which left Hannah the only one confused. Entering the playpen, the man pulled a magic wand from his backpack plugging it into a wall outlet and patted the ground beside him. Claire crawled excitedly to the indicated spot and flopped over onto her back and spreading her legs. The device turned on, he placed it on the front of the girl’s diaper as she wiggled and moaned. Flabbergasted, Hannah could only stare, the rhythmic gyrations of her new ‘friends’ hips bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. When her counterpart erupted into ecstasy, Scott turned his attention to the former teacher. While it had been a week since she and Ryan had last been together, Hannah wasn’t desperate enough to want any part of this public display. Scooting backwards in a playpen will only get you so far away, and in no time the wand was being teased in her direction. The man holding it looked over his shoulder in Brian’s direction, “Shall I?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Fifteen “Does it matter if she has a catheter? And is there any risk of infection?” Brian inquired much to Hannah’s chagrin. She was still cowering in the corner of the playpen in the hope she could somehow avoid being forced to orgasm in front of a bunch of strangers while wearing a wet diaper. For now at least, the man with the magic wand was paying her no mind as he had returned his buzzy friend to between the other diapered woman’s legs. “In the four years that we’ve been allowing little Claire to cum, she hasn’t had any issues with infection.” Joan replied. “She’s also been better behaved. The first two years after we adopted my sister, we didn’t think letting her do something so adult would be proper but…” “An orgasm a day keeps Miss Fussy Pants away!” Kevin finished his wife’s sentence. Hannah returned her gaze to her ‘playmate’; six years she’s been kept like this?!?! Poor woman must have suffered some kind of mental break and probably believes she’s a baby at this point. With no intention of living out the same fate, the 23-year-old began to wonder what would happen if nobody figured out her letter. How would she escape on her own? Surely Claire must have tried at some point before her brain turned to mush, perhaps if she met more babies like herself, she could find someone still new enough to be willing to plot along side her. ~~~~~~~~ The office of the driver’s license appeal division was located inside a dilapidated building, and much like the exterior, the interior was overrun with blight, though that may have just been the clientele. Ryan eyed one such individual who was wearing a food-stained shirt emblazoned ‘Jesus Is The Reason For The Seizin #Epilepsy Awareness’ and hoped he would be able to conclude his business quickly. The goal was to get have his currently suspended license upgraded to restricted so that he could drive to and from work, the grocery store and appointments; Ubering to work every day was getting expensive. After what felt like hours a receptionist called his name and leading him to the back. The room where they stopped had three people seated on one side of the table and a lone empty chair opposite them. Taking the offered seat, Ryan thanked them, and the informal hearing began. Each member took turns asking questions regarding Ryan’s driving history and why he felt he deserved special accommodation. Giving clear, concise answers and using manners his grandmother would be proud of, resulted in a 2-1 decision to grant his restricted license. ~~~~~~~~ The smell emanating from the playpen was horrid. After climaxing a second time, Claire had fallen asleep in the padded flooring and sometime during her nap deposited quite a load into her pants. Having nowhere to hide from the odor, Hannah found herself clutching a stuffed bunny in front of her nose and hoping one of the ‘adults’ would take care of it, unfortunately though she’d used up all her luck when they decided to hold off on her orgasms until the catheter was removed. Kevin, Joan, and Brian continued to blather away as if nothing was wrong for another forty minutes with the homeowner occasionally slipping away to the kitchen. Returning to the living room one more time he announced, “Dinner’s ready!” “Smells delicious,” Kevin commented picking up Claire and carrying her to a highchair set up at the table. Joan took the nearby try to slid it into place and lock it. Retrieving a platter of bite sized chicken tenders and mac ‘n cheese she set it down in front of her ‘baby’ sister. Directing her attention to Brian, “Do you have a bib we could borrow?” “In the drawer over there,” came the reply. “Do you need one?” “That won’t be necessary,” Brian laughed unsnapping Hannah’s onesie and pulling it over her head. “My stinky little baby is going to need a bath anyway, no sense getting a bib dirty.” The 23-year-old fumed silently, I am not stinky, Claire is. As she was lifted up and carried to a second highchair though, she felt her diaper sagging far more than it should be. Her fear was confirmed when the hard wood of the seat smushed the contents of her diaper against her skin. Mortified not because she had pooped her pants, the hollow intruder in her ass guaranteed that would happen, but because she hadn’t noticed she had been sitting in her own filth for who knows how long. Arms pinned beneath the locking tray she had to wait for Brian to feed her the pureed slop from the bowl in front of her. In what could only be described as an attempt to make her look foolish, Brian deliberately altered the pace of each spoonful of the dreadful paste. Hannah did her best to anticipate the movements, but often times she was left opening or closing her mouth too early or too late. The net result was most of her dinner dripping down her face onto her exposed breasts and the 23-year-old still hungry when the bowl was emptied. Claire was given a sippy cup of juice while Hannah was fed a bottle of milk and once the grown ups had completed their meal, Kevin and Joan said their goodbyes for the evening. Clubbed mittens and diaper removed; the former teacher was placed in the warm sudsy water of the tub. Scrubbed clean, Hannah was relieved when the hollow anal tube was removed as she was not used to having anything occupying that space; it had been a literal pain in the ass. Dried off and laid out on a fresh diaper, her relief was short lived as Brian took the opportunity to clean the irksome device, reapply lube and reinsert it into her delicate derriere. Then, with the sun still shining, she was sealed away in her crib for the remainder of the night. ~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Sixteen “I know when your previous teacher left it was a bit sudden,” Hannah’s replacement announced. “But we now know why.” Panicked, Sierra raised her hand, “You do?” “It seems she is off galivanting around the world.” Holding up a piece of paper, “She sent this letter to the school to explain things. I’ll post it on the board so anyone who would like can read it when they get the chance. Sierra most definitely wanted to do just that. When the lesson finally ended, the young girl bee-lined to the chalkboard recognizing her former teacher’s handwriting. Knowing the letter was a lie, she could guess that it was meant as a hidden message. A quick photo with her phone and she and her friends were off to lunch to search for clues. Deciding to analyze each sentence individually, she wrote them out herself in list format. Please don’t be upset at what I am about to tell you. Right now, I’m not sure what direction I wish my life to go in. Everything was fine, but that was it, just, fine. Sadly, the life I was living wasn’t what I wanted it to be. To that end, I’ve decided to step back and take some time to discover who I really am. One thing that I’ve always wanted to do was travel and experience other cultures. Now that may seem like something I could do with a simple vacation; I need more time than a couple weeks to truly experience what I need to make myself feel whole. Know that I love you and I will be back. Sorry that this takes you by surprise. Selling all my possessions will fund this little endeavor to start and I will take jobs as needed to continue my quest so don’t worry about me. And though I will be out of touch, I will be thinking of you often. Venice will most likely be my first stop. Eventually, I’ll tour Tokyo, Sydney and Rio de Janeiro as well. May fortune guide my journey. Elvis has left the building! When she had finished, the solution quickly presented itself; the first letter of each line spelled out a short plea for help. PRESTON KS SAVE ME. Googling the town name along with her former teacher’s name netted a wide variety of results. By the third page, Sierra was about to give up on finding anything useful when a court case from the previous day caught her eye. ~~~~~~~~~ “Morning sleepyhead,” Brian cooed as he unlatched the crib bars. Carrying Hannah to the highchair to spoon feed her a breakfast of oatmeal. While not traditionally her favorite, she ate greedily and was able to get most of it in her mouth. Face wiped clean; it was back to the nursery to change her soggy diaper. The former teacher was somewhat astonished when her caregiver began packing a diaper bag and told that she was going to a babysitter’s house so that ‘daddy’ could go to work. Driving two streets over, the 23-year-old was dropped off at the couple she had met last night’s house. Kevin had already left for the day and Joan was busy feeding Claire breakfast when they walked in. Leaving Hannah in the playpen, Brian issued a quick thank you and was on his way. A couple minutes later a second baby was added to the playpen and ‘The Little Mermaid’ was on the television. Realizing that if she took her by surprise, Hannah could undoubtedly overpower her babysitter and make an escape. First though she had to figure out how to get out of the stupid mittens that prevented her from being able to use her hands and find where the car keys were kept. Pretending to play with a teddy bear, the 23-year-old scanned the room in search of a key rack or purse and was pleased to see a designer handbag hanging perched atop the kitchen counter. Trusty old teddy bear as a screen, the former teacher began to gnaw at the leather strap around her wrist. It was a slow process and she had to stop every time Joan looked in her direction, but progress was being made. By the time ‘The Little Mermaid’ ended, she had chewed halfway through the restraint. A brief pause as both the movie and Claire’s diaper were changed, and it was back to work. Jaw aching after close to three hours of work, her task was finally complete, now she just needed an opportunity. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Taking full advantage of his renewed ability to drive, Ryan took Hannah’s letter straight to Nick Roach’s office. “I got this in the mail today. It’s her handwriting, but it doesn’t sound like her, you know what I mean?” “You think she may have been trying to convey a message someone didn’t want to get out?” The detective responded. “Exactly.” Ryan handed the parchment over. “I just want to know for sure, think you can find something if it’s there?” Taking the offered paper, “If there’s something there, I’ll figure it out, it’s what I do.” A relieved Ryan left the office and an overworked detective quickly scanned the note. Deciding there was nothing amiss, he figured he’d give it a couple days, call his client and let him know that his wayward ex-girlfriend really was off globetrotting. There was other, more pressing business to attend to than some guy who couldn’t handle that he got dumped; only thing to do with people like that is take their money and give them closure. ~~~~~~~~~~~ The internet was a great tool, you could find out almost anything you wanted so long as you knew where to look. Sierra had taken the man’s name that had been granted custody of Ms. Castle and gotten an address and phone number in a matter of minutes. Dialing the number, she got a response in three rings, “Hello, is this Brian?” “It is, who is this?” “My name is Sierra; I understand that you recently adopted an old acquaintance of mine.” “Look, if you’re calling to tell me how evil I am then you can stop right there. Everything-“ Sierra interrupted what was sure to be a well-rehearsed speech, “Nothing like that. In fact, I think it’ll be good for her. I was just wondering if you’d be willing to keep me updated on your progress.” “Updated?” “You know, send me pictures and stuff.” “That seems a bit strange. Can I ask why?” “She bullied me.” The younger girl had to stop herself from giggling. “I want to make a scrapbook of her new life so I can move on and know she’ll never hurt me again.” “Tell you what, I was thinking about journaling her reformation anyway, I’ll just make her a Facebook page and post pictures, videos and stories about her new life.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Seventeen “Claire! You want some num-nums?” Joan called from the kitchen causing the other diapered woman to clap her hands and roll onto her back. Taking that to mean it must be closing in on mid-day, Hannah assumed lunch would soon be served. If her caregiver were distracted by meal preparation, then perhaps now was the time to rip off the cuff and finally get the hell out of this nightmare town. Deliberately waiting until the woman’s back was turned, she gripped her now unlocked glove hand in her teeth yanking it off. One hand now free, she unstrapped the other, jumped the playpen rail and was on top of her babysitter in no time. A quick shove sent Joan tumbling to the ground and the former teacher took the opportunity to swipe the unprotected purse from the kitchen table. Digging through it as she ran towards the door, she soon found what she was looking for and yanked out the key ring discarding the rest. Now on her feet, Joan began to run after her, keeping an eye out at the pursuer behind her, the 23-year-old burst through the front door. Smack! Hannah’s momentum was halted by the hulking figure of a man who had been about to ring the doorbell. Falling flat on her backside, her babysitter was able to grab her by the ear and drag her screaming towards the playpen. The man, Scott, armed with his magic wand, burst into laughter at the scene playing out before him. “Uh oh. Looks like someone could use a dose of good girl time. You alright, Joan?” “Can you hold her while I find something to tie her up with?” The woman of the house asked. “The little shit chewed through her cuffs and tried to escape.” Pinning Hannah’s arms behind her back, Scott replied, “Not a problem. Newbies can be quite a handful.” In short order the pair had the former teacher trussed up to make a dominatrix proud and the orgasm master had set to work on his assigned duty with Claire. Having reached her bliss, Claire curled up to suck her thumb and Scott turned his attention to Hannah. A quick brush of the still vibrating device across the front of her diaper, he looked in Joan’s direction for the go-ahead. “Oh, why not?” The babysitter smiled. “What Brian doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, maybe if she wasn’t so pent up, she wouldn’t be such a bitch.” “No doubt. And I think I know the perfect way to make the lesson sink in.” He snagged the stroller by the door and wheeled it over to the playpen. “A little bit of humility in front of other will show her just where she belongs.” Hannah pushed by Joan in the stroller and Claire carried by Scott, the foursome was out the door. Arriving at the town park, a blanket was spread out for Joan and Claire to lay on while the stroller was deposited nearby and adjacent one of the parks many electronic device charging stations. Other park goers were encouraged to gather around, and the former teacher struggled futilely against her bonds as the magic wand was plugged into an empty outlet. “We have a first timer here!” the man with the buzzing toy announced slowly rubbing it between Hannah’s legs. “Everyone show her how to be a good baby!” A crowd of mostly men were soon congregated around the upcoming show. The magic wand doing its thing, three seconds on, two seconds off, teasing and tormenting the former teacher at the same time. Soon her body began to betray her, hips bucking up to maintain contact with the wand as it was pulled away. Trying to resist, the 23-year-old, twisted her body back and forth but the device continued to vibrate against her most sensitive spot. Powerless to stop it, Hannah erupted into the most intense orgasm of her life. Panting, she fell limply back into her stroller to the thunderous applause of those assembled. Weak from her exertion, she offered no defiance as Joan took her from her perch, laid her out on the blanket next to Claire and began to untape her diaper. The crowd hooted and hollered as her crotch was wiped clean, and fresh diaper slid beneath and then sealed in place. The show having reached its conclusion, many people began to disperse. One of the few women in attendance lingered, “I made a recording if you’d like a copy.” The babysitter accepted the generous offer intending to show Brian how useful the orgasm a day philosophy could be. Wheeling her charges back to the house, she said goodbye to Scott, prepared a lunch of macaroni and cheese for Claire and took out four jars of baby food for Hannah. The glow of ecstasy wearing off, the former teacher began to sob in humiliation as spoonful after spoonful of mush was shoveled into her mouth. How could she live with herself after such a shameful display? ~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Eighteen Four jars of baby food may be a lot for an actual infant, but for a fully grown adult it was somewhat lacking. Tragically for Hannah, being left hungry was becoming all too familiar as she and Claire were both placed into the same crib for an afternoon nap. Uncomfortable due to a lack of food and having to share a confined space with another person, the 23-year-old twisted and turned to no avail for several minutes until her babysitter returned. Lowering the railing, she pulled the former teacher out and guided her to her lap in the nursery’s rocking chair. As much as Hannah wanted to resist, the rhythmic back and forth became hypnotic and the next thing she knew she was waking up mid diaper change. Slowly coming back to the present, she noted Joan was still distrustful of her as her arms were still trussed behind her back and that Claire was playing with blocks on the mat next to her. Certainly, her failed escape attempt would be cause for punishment, though the homeowner seemed content to leave that to Brian. Clean and dry for however brief a time, the former teacher along with her diapered playmate were soon back in the living room with yet another kids’ movie playing on the television. Unsnapping her blouse, Joan had Claire across her lap to suckle an afternoon snack while she used her free hand to feed a bottle to her other charge. Thankful that she didn’t have to get her milk from her babysitter’s breast, the 23-year-old finished before her counterpart and with nothing better to do allowed herself to be sucked into the juvenile cartoon. Giggling at the silly yellow sponge’s antics despite herself, the clock ticked down and Brian came to collect her. “Was she a good girl?” “Sadly, no.” Joan replied. “She chewed through her cuff and tried to make a run for it. If Scott hadn’t shown up, she might have even got away.” Inspecting the damaged restraint, Brian dropped it to the ground and marched toward his little girl. “What am I going to do with you? I thought if I gave you a chance, you could accept the gift you’ve been given, but all you do is try my patience.” “She’s been a good girl since her treatment,” the babysitter retrieved her phone. Pulling up the video of the episode in the park she showed it to Brian. “I know what we discussed earlier, but it was the only way I knew to gain her compliance.” “No, that’s alright. You were right, I was wrong. Perhaps I’ll be making use of your man in the near future.” He collected Hannah from the floor. A quick peek into the back of her diaper revealed she had soiled herself during the afternoon. In no hurry to reward her for her earlier transgression, she was strapped into the car seat for the ride home where it was straight to the highchair. Icky mush smearing around inside her diaper, the former teacher squirmed in her seat. Complaining wouldn’t do her any good, her caregiver would only penalize her further if she tried to protest and she wanted this nightmare to be over sooner rather that later. From her vantage point, she watched as two chicken breasts, rice and green beans were cooked, half were put onto a plate, the other half into a blender. Brian ate his meal first while it was still hot before pouring the sludge from the blender into a bowl to feed to Hannah. Still hungry from lunch, she did her best to get as much of the slop into her mouth as possible. Dinner complete, the 23-year-old had her faced wiped clean and expected a bath before bed. What she got was laid onto the change pad, a few slits cut into her stinky diaper and another taped over top. Mumbling against the pacifier that had been placed in her mouth got a response from her guardian. Apparently, her punishment for running away earlier was to spend the next twelve hours with her own waste strapped to her waist. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Like any teenager, Sierra spent most of her life on Facebook. Scrolling through her friend’s feed, she was pleased when a notification popped up on the channel dedicated to her former teacher. Clicking the link, she immediately broke out into laughter. A photo of the woman, clad in a onesie with an obvious diaper bulge, was displayed. Reading the caption below, she learned that after her public display in the park, she had been put to bed with a messy bottom. Unable to contain her glee, she passed the link on to her friends with explicit instructions to keep the information to themselves. Soon, there was a group discussion on whether or not they could manipulate things to get their former teacher into more embarrassing situations. With all the suggestions in place, Sierra sent a message to the page’s creator; a note to make proposals of what kinds of punishments might be appropriate if the 23-year-old were to act up again. Before she could close her browser, she got a response. “Little Hannah will no doubt earn herself many reprimands in the upcoming days. I appreciate your input and will take them into consideration.” “Thank you. Having been the victim of her abuses, I feel relieved to know that someone like you has taken control to teach her the proper way.” The 14-year-old responded. “No problem. The next time she needs correction, and I doubt it will be too long, I will be sure to consult to make sure she learns her lesson.” ~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Nineteen “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed.” Kevin admonished. “She’s just a little baby. What would have happened if she made it out the door?” “I know, I’m sorry,” Joan sniffled and tugged at the hem of her new underwear. She hadn’t been put back into pullups since the early days of regressing her sister but knew daddy only would have done it if he was truly worried about losing baby Hannah. “I promise I’ll do better tomorrow.” Kissing her on the forehead, “You better, or we’ll have to find someone to look after all three of you.” “But daddy!” “Now, now, honey. It’s just three days until the weekend. No more misadventures and you can have your panties back then.” ~~~~~~~~~ Backside itching with no relief in sight, Hannah tossed and turned in her crib. She could see that it was still night out by the darkness of the sky and doubted Brian would be in any time before daybreak to clean her messy pants. Out of options, she did what any real baby would and began crying. Small sobs of self-pity soon gave way to louder, uncontrolled howls. Before the 23-year-old knew it, the sun was out and the crib bars were down; she must have tired herself out and fallen asleep. Brian reached in, scooped his charge up and carried her towards the changing table, a goofy grin and babble on his lips. “Who’s a stinky baby? Who’s a stinky baby? You are! Oh, yes you are!” Dirty diaper removed, bottom wiped clean, the former teacher was then taken and given a bath. Both devices that took away all control of her bodily functions were scrubbed, lubed and re-inserted before a fresh diaper was taped in place. An ‘I Love My Daddy’ onesie was buttoned in place overtop the crinkly undergarment and that was apparently her outfit for the day. Bottom still itching despite being clean, Hannah squirmed her way through an oatmeal breakfast with most of it ending up on her bib. Diaper bag packed, it was off for another day at the babysitter’s house. Upon entering, Hannah saw Kevin holding Claire’s poop-stained butt in the air and gently wiping the mess away. He looked up when Brian dumped the former teacher in the playpen. “Not to worry, she’s been warned.” “I should hope so,” Brian responded placing a stuffed animal between Hannah’s gloved hands. Today, a small chain with padlock had replaced the leather strap from the day before. “Who knows what damage she could do if she were to get loose.” Finishing the diaper change, he beckoned his wife over. When he nodded, she unbuttoned her jeans to reveal the butterfly pullup beneath. “As I said, she’s been warned.” “Glad to hear it.” Brian smiled, waved goodbye to his little girl and was out the door followed by Kevin. Hiding her face behind the stuffed rabbit, the 23-year-old mused, so Joan got punished for yesterday. I wonder what would happen if she were to get in trouble again today. Might be an interesting way to pass the time, no doubt my friends have gotten the letter and are sure to decipher it soon. I have a day, two at the most, let’s see what kind of trouble I can cause in the meantime. A fun game became crying whenever her babysitter looked like she might be ducking off to use the restroom. While Joan no doubt still had control over her bladder, it was entertaining to watch her dance around and pressing a hand between her legs. Just when she thought she had the woman on the verge of wetting herself, a pacifier gag was tied in Hannah’s mouth and she was leashed to the playpen bars as Joan darted off towards the bathroom. Her fun temporarily halted; the former teacher tried to think of other ways to bring the woman down to size. The 23-year-olds thoughts of revenge were put on hold as Scott burst through the door. Nonchalantly, he set down his bag and took out his vibrating friend. Stepping over the playpen wall, he plugged it in and turned it on the lowest setting. Claire’s eyes lit up and she eagerly crawled in his direction while Hannah did her best to fade into the background. Seeing this, he soon had Hannah backed into a corner and the wand tantalizingly close to her diapered crotch. Not wanting to be left out, Claire was soon thrusting her hips against the device which in turn pressed it into the former teacher’s padding. “Looks like the baby girls want to play together.” Joan commented returning to the living room. Moving the magic wand back and forth between the two diapered woman’s crotches Scott responded, “I’m seeing how well they can play together. Perhaps in the future we can get them doing this on their own.” As much as she hated what was happening, Hannah was powerless to stop the vibrations and soon she and Claire were both moaning in ecstasy. The diapers, the humiliation, all of it was forgotten as she and her playmate climaxed simultaneously. Exhausted, she curled up ready to drift to sleep, not even protesting when Claire snuggled in next to her and their diapers crinkled against one another to send a shiver up her spine. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Lunchtime rolled around and Sierra quickly grabbed her food, found a table and logged onto the Facebook live stream of her former teacher. The screen showed her and another woman in diapers being roused from their nap. The other woman was taken to a highchair to be fed while Hannah was left to crawl around in her droopy diaper. Giggling, Sierra clicked a few screen shots to save for later and logged out. “What are you so happy about?” One of her friends set down a tray. Showing off one of the new pictures, “Just admiring Ms. Castle’s new life.” “Oh my God! That’s so funny! How long do you think she’ll stay like this?” “If all goes according to plan? The rest of her life.” “Now what is this?” The school’s principal peered down at the photo. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Twenty The middle of the afternoon found Hannah groggily waking up to find Joan in the middle of changing her diaper. Giggling at the sight of her babysitter’s pullup peeking out the back of her shorts when she turned to grab the powder, the 23-year-old was soon reminded of her own infantile status when said powder was sprinkled between her legs and the fresh diaper taped in place. A bottle of milk clubbed in her mittened hands, the former teacher suckled while her Claire had her turn and being changed. There had to be a way to screw with Joan, get her in further trouble, not because it would help Hannah escape but because she needed something to pass the time until she was inevitably rescued. Ryan, her white knight, was no doubt already riding in on his trusty steed, so why not get back at the locals as best she could? Trying to keep her out of the bathroom had failed and Joan was most likely on guard for another escape attempt, so what could she do? Perhaps if she kept the babysitter occupied, her diapered counterpart would create her own mischief. Crying as loud as she could brought the woman rushing over. “What is it, sweetheart? I fed you, I changed you, what could you need?” A quick peek into the back of her charges diaper, “No presents here. Are you still hungry? We can take care of that.” Expecting the woman to disappear to the kitchen to fetch a bottle, the 23-year-old was a bit baffled when she was laid on the woman’s lap. Off came the shirt, out came the breast and Hannah’s mouth was guided towards the exposed nipple. Wanting nothing to do with what was being offered, Hannah bit down causing Joan to scream in pain and push her away. With a thud, the former teacher landed heavily on her backside and immediately knew something was wrong; the hollow plug felt as if it had been driven deep inside her. Crying for real garnered no sympathy. “You can cut that out right now, I’m not falling for it again!” The babysitter huffed covering herself and storming away. “And you can be sure I’m going to tell your daddy about this too.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~ “It’s not what it looks like,” Sierra stammered. The principal looked non-plussed, “Oh really? Cause it looks like you’re photoshopping a diaper onto your teacher. And while I may not agree with the way she abruptly left, that doesn’t give you the right to be disrespectful. I think a weeks-worth of detention should do the trick.” Waiting for the balding old man to strut away, the freshman fumed to her friends, “The bitch isn’t even here and she’s getting me detention. I can’t wait until she gets in trouble so I can get even. Grrr!” “What are you going to do?” One of the gathered girls inquired. “I don’t know, but she’s definitely not going to like it.” ~~~~~~~~~~~ Deciding enough time had passed, detective Nick Roach gave his client a call. “Ryan? I have news for you.” “Is it good or bad?” The former teacher’s former boyfriend asked. “I guess you could say it’s a bit of both. She is fine; however, she doesn’t want to be contacted.” Sighing, Ryan responded, “I see. So that’s it? She left me and there’s nothing I can do?” “I’m afraid so.” The detective leaned back in his chair and took a bite of his sandwich. “If anything changes, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Hanging up, Ryan went to his boss to request the rest of the day off. It wasn’t like Hannah to just abandon everything, but if the detective was to be believed, she did. Arriving home, he brought up the pictures of them on his phone, slowly scrolling through to remember the good times before banishing the memories to the deleted file. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tears streaming down her cheeks and hands pawing uselessly on her padded posterior, Hannah was in serious pain. “Please! Something’s wrong, it hurts so bad!” “Babies don’t talk,” Joan rolled the 23-year-old onto her stomach to give her backside a swat and noticed a red discoloration. Quickly untaping the diaper, she noticed blood dripping from her charges back passage and that the hollow tube had disappeared. Pulling out her cell phone, “Hello? 911? I need an ambulance, quick!” As the babysitter relayed the details to the dispatcher the wails of a siren grew closer and soon Hannah was loaded in the back of the ambulance headed for the town hospital. An IV was hooked to her arm, pain medication pushed, and the overgrown baby was asleep before arrival not to wake again until after surgery and her daddy was sitting beside her hospital crib. Having filled the prescription for pain medication while his little girl slept and received the go ahead from the doctor, Brian carefully carried the former teacher to the car for the journey home. “Wha… What’s goin on?” Hannah slurred still a bit delirious from the medication. “Shhh. Babies don’t speak.” Her caregiver pulled out a pacifier and stuck it between her lips. “You’ve had a hard day, get some rest, I’ll explain when we get home.” Curious about the infantile device in her mouth, the 23-year-old began to take stock of her surroundings. She was locked into an oversized child seat with an obviously well used diaper strapped to her waist and the scenery out the window didn’t look the slightest bit familiar. Her brain began to piece together the puzzle. Oh, shit. It hadn’t been a dream. She was waking up to the nightmare, twin rivers once more cascaded down her cheeks at the revelation. Back at her new home, Brian placed her on her tummy in the playpen and pulled out his laptop. Logging into a chat program, he made a bottle for his baby while he waited for a response. Hannah was laying across her daddy’s lap suckling greedily when the face of her former student popped up in the open chat window. “Oh my god, that’s so precious!” Sierra beamed. Keeping the bottle firmly in the former teacher’s mouth so she couldn’t speak, Brian replied. “If only she was this sweet all the time.” “Uh-oh, did someone get in trouble again today?” “To say the least. She bit her babysitter during feeding and ended up in the hospital after falling off the babysitter’s lap.” Feigning sympathy, the 14-year-old inquired, “Is she okay?” “She will be in a few days. The hollow plug I had been using to weaken her sphincter got pushed too far in and needed to be surgically removed. Really that turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though.” “How so?” “Well, I hadn’t been planning on it, but since she was in surgery anyway, I had the doctor just go ahead and sever the nerves regulating her bladder and bowels. No more ability to clamp down and stop her peepees or poopoos any more for my little baby.” He easily kept Hannah’s attempts at thrashing under control. “The reason I called was to get suggestions on what to do about her biting.” Barely able to contain her glee upon hearing her former teacher was now totally diaper dependent, Sierra blurted out the first thing that came to her head. “Why not get rid of her teeth too? Babies don’t need to chew after all and then even if she does try to bite it won’t do much.” Once again, the 23-year-old struggled futility on her daddy’s lap and was subdued. “That is an excellent suggestion. We’ll see about getting her to the dentist in the morning. For now, she’s had a rough day, I suppose I’ll just give Miss Piddle Pants a change and put her to bed.” “Nighty, night Miss Piddle Pants!” Sierra giggled ending the chat session. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Twenty-One Sun shining brightly through the crib bars, Hannah estimated it to be mid-morning which meant she’d been asleep for over 12 hours. Stretching, she felt the tell-tale signs that she’d messed in her sleep and began to cry as she remembered what Brian had said the night before. Even if she did manage to escape this hell, she’d still be pooping her pants the rest of her life. Moments later, he entered the room with a smile, “Hey there, sweetie. How about we get some breakfast in you then we you a bath?” Stripped out of the onesie and strapped into the highchair wearing just her soiled diaper and bondage mittens, the 23-year-old did her best to anticipate her caregiver’s movement with the spoon. Face and breasts covered in oatmeal at the end of the feeding, she was given a bottle of formula. It tasted worse than normal, no doubt due to her pain medication being mixed in with it, and by the time it was halfway drained there was a knock on the door. “Is there a Hannah Castle here?” A man holding a bouquet of assorted flowers inquired. Brian turned his head to yell in the direction of the kitchen, “Aww, honey, looks like Kevin and Joan got you a little get well present.” When was facing him once more, the delivery man’s fist rocketed into Brian’s nose; blood squirted everywhere. A second blow followed by a third landed in quick succession knocking out the stunned caregiver’s teeth. Stepping over his victim, the delivery man strode into the house and making a beeline towards the kitchen. Upon seeing the diaper clad woman, he let out a sigh, “My God, what have they done to you?” “Dad?” Hannah asked groggily as the pain meds started to do their thing. “That’s right, sweetie; I’m here to get you out.” He responded removing the mittens from his daughter’s hands. “She’s not going anywhere,” Brian spit blood. “She’s legally mine now.” Helping Hannah out of the highchair, “Go get yourself cleaned up and some real clothes on while I deal with this idiot.” “Don’t you dare move baby girl or bruise your bottom so bad you won’t be able to sit for a week. Daddy has already called, and the police are on the way to arrest this misguided gentleman.” The sound of sirens growing louder substantiated his point. Rolling his eyes, Hannah’s father launched a haymaker that connected with the other man’s jaw and dropped him into an unconscious heap on the floor. Time running out before the police arrived, he grabbed a coat to drape over his half naked daughter. “Sorry honey, we gotta go.” “Wait!” The adrenaline of the situation counteracting the drugs in her system, 23-year-old pulled away and ran to the nursery. Grabbing a package of diapers, she rejoined her father who now had a perplexed look on his face. “I’ll explain in the car.” Speeding away, Hannah recalled the horrors of the last two weeks to her father including her surgically created incontinence. She could tell he wanted nothing more than to turn the car around and kill the bastard who had hurt her, but reason prevailed, and they continued east crossing the border into Missouri four hours later. Finally feeling like it was safe to stop, her dad bought clothes for her to wear while the 23-year-old did her best to change herself in the ladies room. Her infantile underwear was crooked, and the tapes were perhaps not as snug as they could be, but for her first time it wasn’t bad. Back on the road, it was smooth sailing home. ~~~~~~~~~~~ ONE YEAR LATER: “Hannah! Are you ready?” Hannah’s mother called. Placing the last tape on the front panel of her diaper the now 24-year-old yelled back, “Just putting on a fresh diaper so I don’t leak at court today.” “Honestly, honey, you’ve been living with your father and I for the last year and you haven’t had a leak in the last 10 months, I don’t know why you’re always so paranoid.” “It’s a big day. I’m testifying against Brian and Headmistress Givens in their kidnapping and human trafficking case, and I don’t want to give them the satisfaction.” Dressed in a navy skirt and white blouse she exited her childhood bedroom. “How do I look?” “Beautiful as always.” Mother Castle beamed. “I wish dad could come with us.” “Me too, dear. But part of his probation agreement for assaulting that monster is he isn’t allowed within 100 yards of him.” Mother and daughter together in the car, Hannah couldn’t help but reflect on everything that had transpired. The mistaken identity and spanking that had started it all, being traded off to a pervert when the truth came out and the humiliating week of forced babyhood. Now it was all coming to an end. The evil headmistress and the aforementioned pervert were soon to be convicted and sent to prison. Her former student, Sierra, while not in legal trouble certainly regretted her part as her parents shipped her off to St. Anne’s Reformatory School for some much-needed correction. It had taken a long time to come to terms with her new status as a 24/7 diaper dependent adult and Ryan had done his best to be supportive, but in the end, they had parted ways, Hannah just wasn’t ready to date. She was ready to get back into the work force but having to explain to potential employers her hiatus was problematic to say the least even with her adulthood status restored through the courts. Most of her days were spent searching online job boards and evenings perusing the content at DailyDiapers, where it felt good not to be so alone.

Disclaimer--All characters are fictional and meant to be over age 18. Be warned: this is a non-consensual story, but he comes around in the end. Among the stories I've written, this one has the happiest ending. Chapter 1 Julie was waiting for him in the hall when he opened the bathroom door, so he immediately felt guilty. He wasn’t sure if she had been waiting to use it, or if she had an urgent patient question. But either way, she didn’t look happy, and he felt a little self-conscious that she had been waiting on him to finish peeing. Standing right outside the door drew attention to his bathroom habits, and he had always been shy about other people knowing he was “doing his business”. When she urgently signaled to follow her toward the hallway that ran the length of the building to their pod of exam rooms, he walked closely behind. It was always good to keep your nurse happy; he had learned that in medical school. It made your day MUCH easier. She walked into their work room, a small space with a diminutive computer work station for each of them and a set of cabinets, as well as an old exam table, which was no longer used for patients. They usually piled supplies on it these days, though today it happened to be bare. She waited for him to come in, then closed the door behind him. She paused. He waited, a bit mystified. After a moment she met his eyes, lips pressed firmly together. “We need to talk,” she said tensely. He blinked. “Ok, what’s up?” Julie Davis had been his nurse for nearly a year now, having been hired shortly after he was. She was efficient, smart, and personable. The patients loved her, and he appreciated her as a competent and friendly assistant with a sharp wit. In addition, she was pretty as hell. He’d never seen her upset or angry, but she seemed a little of both right now. It caught his attention. She squinted a little. “What should I do if there is a doctor in the practice who is being irresponsible, keeping patients waiting every day, slowing down employees, and keeping them from going home to their family at night? What should I do?” He was curious. He had a handful of partners. They were relatively tight-knit. This would be news. “Probably tell him. Or her, I guess. They’d want to know.” “Yeah?” She paused, considering. “I guess that’s right.” He sat down at his workstation, interested in the gossip. “Who is it?” She looked up at him. “Well, actually…it’s you.” He shifted uncomfortably, taken aback at first. “Are—are you serious? Me? Really? Wha–” He was lost. She sat down, but her eyes never left his face. “You spend half an hour or more in the potty every single day, keeping patients waiting, and keeping me from getting home to my kids. It has to stop.” His eyebrows furrowed. He was distracted by the use of the word, “potty”. She used it often, instead of the more common—and adult—“bathroom” or “restroom”. He knew she was a single mom with small children, so he assumed it was a habit. But it was odd, and a little embarrassing that she used it with him. It made him feel like a little kid. Especially in this context. “You’ve been…timing me? Thaaat seems a little weird. Normally, I wouldn’t mind the extra attention, especially from you.” He raised his eyebrows at her with a smile, pretending to flirt. He would never come on to her. He felt strongly about professional boundaries and was careful about sexual harassment. But it was amusing to fake it sometimes, and humor was useful in defusing awkward situations like this. Was she really talking about how long he spent in the bathroom?! “But…well, it’s the bathroom, right? So…” She didn’t hesitate. “Well, I wasn’t timing you at first. But it has gotten a little ridiculous, and I started wondering just how long your patients and I spend waiting for you.” He looked down, embarrassed. Ok, so humor wasn’t working. Yet. She seemed to be waiting for him to answer, however, and he wasn’t sure what to say. “Well, everybody needs to go to the bathroom. I can’t just turn that function off, you know?” “But no one spends so much time peeing. Or pooping.” She smiled a little to herself, and he was sure she said, under her breath, “Or…whatever.” He reddened but said nothing. Was she implying what he thought she was? What could you say to this? In truth, he had spent a lot of time in the bathroom. It was the only place the staff couldn’t bother him. He spent the time playing on his phone, and, though he would certainly never admit it to anyone, had in fact pleasured himself–rarely–in the past. He couldn’t believe she had been paying attention. He didn’t know whether he had a right to be offended, or just to be embarrassed. When he didn’t immediately speak, lost in thought about how he could possibly respond, she pressed on. “Of course, it’s none of my business what my doctor does in his spare time. But this isn’t spare time. This is work time, and you are being rude to your patients and to me.” Her cheeks were flushed. If anything, it made her look prettier than usual. At any other time, he would be attracted to her. He swallowed. He thought he could see where she was going. “Well, I’m sorry, of course. I can hurry in the future.” He nodded to himself. “I wasn’t really thinking about your time. I will hurry.” Julie sighed. “I doubt it.” She stood up, and he subconsciously backed his chair up, surprised. She confidently continued, “I came up with my own plan,” looking down at him sternly. He thought for a moment that this was probably how her children felt. It was intimidating. “I thought I would put a diaper on you, and I’d change you when you needed it during the day. It would be a more efficient system, because I can do that quickly, and you wouldn’t have to stop in the middle of seeing patients to go hide in the potty.” He laughed out loud. This humor definitely helped defuse the tension in the room, and he appreciated it. But he stopped when he saw that she wasn’t smiling. Why not? This was a ridiculous idea. She had to be kidding. “I can’t—wait, you’re not seriously suggesting that, are you?” “Of course I am. You said before that everyone has to go to the potty. That’s not quite true,” she said, sitting down again across from him. “Everybody needs to pee, and everybody needs to poop, but not everyone needs to go to the potty to do it. It would save loads of time and make you a more efficient doctor. Agreeing to let me diaper you would show that you care about your patients. And about your staff, or at least about their time.” He stared at her, trying to decide if she was pulling his leg. Finally, he shook his head. “Yeah, wellll, don’t be silly. That’s never gonna happen. I’m an adult, and I plan to go on using the bathroom like other adults. But I’m sorry about inconveniencing you. I’ll be faster when I have to go.” She pursed her lips and smiled at him. “Adults wear diapers, you know. Cool adults, even. Like astronauts and race car drivers. You could be like an astronaut!” Again, it was hard to tell if she was joking. She seemed earnest about this. “Maybe they do, Julie, but that ain’t gonna happen. Let’s drop it. I could never agree to that.” He couldn’t shake the idea that she was putting him on. But she wasn’t smiling at all. She had an intense kind of look in her eye. “You could,” she insisted. “You would show that your patients’ and staffs’ time is important to you. That would be admirable. You’d have nothing to be embarrassed about.” She nodded at him seriously. “It’ll work. You’ll see. Let’s try it!” But he refused to accept the suggestion. He thought he was being generous enough to take her seriously. But this was bizarre. He’d have to reconsider what he thought of Julie’s common sense. If she thought this was a reasonable plan, what else did she think? What a wacko. “I’m sorry, but that’s just too weird. I promise you I’ll be more mindful of your time. But I can’t do…that.” Julie stared at him for a moment. Then she slowly nodded solemnly. “Well, we can try it your way. But if you can’t go faster, I won’t take no for an answer.” She sat back down but held his eyes with her own. “Let’s be clear about my expectations, since I’m not sure you even know what’s normal. “If you are peeing, I want you in and out of the potty in 60 seconds. At your age, there is no reason it should take longer. If you have to poop, it is okay to spend as long as 5 minutes, but no more.” He blushed as she talked to him so graphically, and again felt like a child. What was she going to do now, tell him how to wipe? This was ridiculous, and he found it impossible to engage in this…negotiation, or whatever it was. Instead, anxious to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he shook his head. This was humiliating. “Julie, I’ll be quicker. Can we just leave it at that? Now, do we have patients?” Her hand shot out and grabbed his. “Not so fast. I’m serious. I need an agreement from you before we move on. If you take longer than that, we’re going with my plan. Agreed?” He hesitated. He knew he could never accept that. “Julie, seriously. Please!” he said in exasperation. If there was one thing that embarrassed him, it was talking about his bodily functions. Here they were talking about timing his bowel movements. But Julie shook her head. “Nope. I want a commitment from you. We’ll go with diapers if you need it, okay?” Frustrated, he protested, “I don’t think I can agree to that. It’s crazy!” “Fine. Then agree to the deal, and then don’t be slow. It is entirely under your control.” “Argh,” he groaned, blushing furiously. “Okay, just drop it.” Julie nodded, still looked at him closely. “I will drop it, for now. But be careful. We have a deal, and I will collect on that deal if I need to. I’ll be watching.” And he was convinced that she would be. He noticed her interested glance when he walked the long hallway back to the bathroom during the next few days. He even found her outside the bathroom door occasionally, which kind of freaked him out. But he found that as long as he was attentive and mindful, he wasn’t in danger of incurring her wrath. It turned out she was right about the time frames in the bathroom. It was his growing confidence that turned out to be his downfall. More than 2 weeks later, he was harried and stressed, and ducked into the bathroom, unable to keep from glancing at Twitter while he relieved himself. There was an article on his football team’s plans for the upcoming draft, suggesting that the backup quarterback might be trade bait. He appreciated the momentary escape from his day, and didn’t even realize he was 4.5 minutes over his agreed limit until he opened the bathroom door and literally walked into her tapping her foot in the hallway outside. He glanced down at her, surprised to find someone there. When he saw her determined expression, he was so preoccupied that he was genuinely surprised. It finally dawned on him why she might be there, and what the upset look on her face might mean. His stress level returned to pre-Twitter levels. She was going to need to be mollified somehow. She pointed at his chest, and then toward their work space. She turned on her heels and strode away without looking back. He hung his head, embarrassed to have this talk again. Seriously—why wouldn’t she let this drop? He was trying, right? On his way back to the workspace, he started thinking that perhaps he’d need a new nurse. As nice and efficient as Julie was, her preoccupation with the bathroom–and diapers?!–was a bit alarming. It was midmorning, and there was a lull in his schedule, but still. Was it fair to him to keep him from his inbox to talk about the “potty”? She entered the work room first, then stood aside to let him past her. He dutifully went, trying to think about what to say to deflect her anger, and how to set this weird relationship straight. He was the boss in this relationship. She needed to understand that. When he passed her, he was startled to see her shut and lock the door behind them. She stood in front of the door. He paused awkwardly, not sure how to address her actions. But she didn’t wait for him. “I’ll give you this: you held it together longer than I thought you would,” Julie said, shaking her head. “But, of course, here we are. Were you peeing or pooping?” He reddened. She was so blunt and direct about these things. He couldn’t think fast enough to lie. “Peeing,” he said quietly. He was glad he hadn’t been moving his bowels. He wasn’t even sure he could say the other word in front of someone. “Wow. 5 and a half minutes for peeing. Did you get lost? Maybe you had trouble finding it?” she asked sarcastically. He realized that he should feel offended, but she was talking again. “You really think I couldn’t have changed a diaper and had you back to work in 5 and a half minutes?” He stood silently, shocked that she was again discussing the diaper thing. What else could he say to bring her back to reality? Is suggesting that he wear diapers enough cause for firing someone? He struggled to find the right words to say to her. But she plowed right on. “Well, I guess we’re going to find out now, aren’t we? Pull your pants down while I get a diaper out.” She turned to the cabinet and pulled open a door, where an unopened pack of adult diapers had apparently been waiting. He frowned. He knew the office didn’t stock those. He was freshly embarrassed by the idea that she had gone shopping and purchased them specifically for him, expecting him to need them. Had they been here ever since their previous conversation?! Julie pulled out the package, ripped open the bag, and pulled out a diaper, setting it on the counter while she put the pack away again. She reached up into a nearby cabinet and found a bottle of baby powder and a blue pad, then turned back to him. “Pick up the pace. We’ve got someone scheduled in a few minutes.” He stared at her, unable to believe that she really expected to go through with this. “You can’t be—“ “Of course I’m serious,” she interrupted him sternly. “We had a deal. So get your pants down around your ankles and hop up on the table.” His mouth dropped open. “NOW.” He suddenly found it hard to swallow. She was a nut job. “Look, Julie, I appreciate your concern, and I’m sorry, but—“ She walked back over to the door and stood in front of it as he trailed off, intimidated a bit by her confidence. “But what?” “But I told you before that I wouldn’t go through with this…this plan. I just can’t do that.” “You can and you will,” she snapped. “You specifically promised me you’d do it. I told you that it was entirely under your control. You could have avoided wearing diapers, but you didn’t. Today, it wasn’t even a close call.” She paused, seeming to consider. “One might even wonder if you were asking for this.” She tilted her head and looked curiously at him. “Were you?” “No!” he exclaimed. “Of course not. And I wasn’t seriously agreeing to this. I—I can’t do this. I can’t—“ he lowered his voice. “I can’t pull down my pants in my own office. I can’t wear a diaper. I can’t let you see me naked, or talk about my…time…in the bathroom. You’re my employee. I’m your boss. I just can’t. You need to drop it. Let’s get back to work.” He started for the door, but she resolutely stood in his way. “Pants down, hop up.” She stared at him. He froze, completely undone by her attitude. “Look, we’re not getting back to work until you are wearing that diaper. The door is locked. No one will know you’re wearing a diaper unless you tell them, and I can’t imagine you will. It will be under your pants, and no one will be able to tell. No one cares what you wear for underpants. “I care about you as a doctor and a person, and I firmly believe this is in your best interest, not to mention the interest of your patients and of me. Now get those pants down so we can move forward.” He looked at her helplessly. “I…I…can’t…” She suddenly took a step forward. She had a steely look in her eye. “Young man, you’ve got until I count to 3. One…” She raised her eyebrows at him. He stood frozen, afraid. “Two…” He folded. He had no idea why, but he didn’t want her to get to 3. What did he think would happen, here, in his office? But she’d assumed the “mom look” that did not invite argument. He had made that mistake as a child, and it hadn’t ended well. So it was more instinct than anything else that led to his obeying her. His hands, trembling, went to his belt, and he hurriedly unbuckled it and then unbuttoned his slacks. He started easing them down his legs, and tried to look up at her. He couldn’t quite meet her gaze. But Julie smiled, and said contentedly, “That’s better. I knew you’d be a good boy. Now, walk—or shuffle, I guess—over to the table behind you.” His face burned. He glanced around and saw he was a few feet away from the exam table she indicated. He felt ridiculous as he tried to walk and found, as she said, that he needed to shuffle his feet, moving over to the table. She walked around to the end of the table and patted it gently. “Up you go.” He couldn’t believe this was happening. He tried not to think, doing as she asked now without questioning. He backed up to the table and edged onto it, feeling the cold vinyl against his bare thighs. She had guided him to a point a few feet from the end, and, once seated, she gently indicated that he was to swing his legs up to the end of the table and lie down. He took a deep breath and lay back. She cooed, “Good boy. Now let’s get those undies down…” Feeling her hands tugging on his boxers sent him into a bit of a panic. “Wait!” he said, sitting up again. “Um—uh—why don’t we—I mean, why can’t I just put it on myself? I’m not a baby, you know.” He was breathing heavily from the fear that she would see him naked. He wasn’t a virgin, but the number of women who had seen him naked was a very small number. She stared down at him for just a moment before shaking her head. “No, I’m sorry, that wouldn’t be a good idea. How many diapers have you changed?” He stared at her. “Well, none. But I’m a doctor. How hard can it be? Can you just show me—generally—what to do?” He nodded to himself, and spoke more quickly and confidently. “I mean, then you don’t have to be directly involved, and your time won’t be wasted. That would let you get home earlier to see your family,” he added, thinking that might sound appealing. She seemed to like his eagerness, and smiled at him, almost fondly. This made him think that maybe he could sway her, and could make his fate a little less humiliating. ”That’s sweet of you to think of me that way.” But then she said, “But it is a tricky job getting the diaper to lie flat so that no one will see it or hear it, and so that it won’t leak. Keeping it all secret from your patients is the most important thing, don’t you think? I don’t think we want to leave your secret in the hands of an amateur. What if you left a little space for wetness to leak out and walked around with wet pants for the afternoon?” She waited for that image to form in his mind, and was rewarded with his brow furrowing slightly. “And then there is my suspicion that if you can’t just pee in a reasonable amount of time, how likely is it that you could pee and then change your own diaper in a reasonable amount of time? No, if this is to be helpful to you, and to your patients, and to me, I’ll have to be the one to do it.” She smiled at his sinking expression. “I can tell you are embarrassed. Is it because I’m going to see your pee-pee?” If it was possible, he reddened still further. “But really–it will be okay. Remember, I’m a professional nurse, not to mention a mom of boys, and you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. If it could be done without seeing you naked, we would do it that way. But it can’t be helped, so let’s just act professionally and get through it. Afterward, I think you’ll be relieved that it wasn’t nearly as big a deal as you thought. Now, let’s get to it.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’ll have patients very soon.” Defeated, he let her push him gently back into a lying position. She put her hands on his hands and moved them to his sides, away from his boxers. “Let’s get these big-boy undies down.” Her hands gripped the lower outside corners of his boxers. “Lift your bottom,” she coaxed. He took a breath, looked away, and did as she asked. Once his rear end had cleared the table, shoes firmly on the end of the table, she efficiently pulled down his boxers and slid a blue pad under him. “Okay, back down again.” He could feel the cool soft flat surface under his backside. “Just some basics here. Your cooperation will go a long way toward making this efficient and fast. And I’m sure you want this to be quick. First, your knees should always be as wide apart as you can get them. Ok?” she asked, “Knees apart.” She waited for him to nod. “Second, you’ll always start with your feet down on the table, with your knees apart, of course. That is the ‘down’ position, obviously.” Again he acknowledged her, dimly aware that she had waited for him to be naked to be having this detailed instructional talk. “Third, I’ll need you to lift up your legs so I can remove the old diaper and/or place the new one in place. When you do that, you’ll want to grab your knees (still wide open, right?) and pull them as far as you can toward your shoulders. We’ll call that position, ‘up.’ Okay?” He nodded numbly. He just wanted this to be over. “Finally, we’ll want you in the ‘down’ position again. And your knees?” she prompted him, an expectant smile on her face. “What?” he asked. He was trying to pretend this wasn’t happening. It didn’t help to be asked a question that reminded him he was a person and was helping this process. “Where will your knees be when your legs and bottom come back down onto the new diaper?” she asked patiently. “Oh, uh, open?” he mumbled distractedly. Could this really be happening? “Right! Great job,” she praised him, holding her hand up to be high-fived like he was a little child. “Now, let’s just practice that once or twice to make sure you’ve got it in your head. We want it to be fast in the future.” He sighed silently. “First down.” He kept his feet on the table, knees bent, and opened his legs slightly. He was secretly focused on hoping she wasn’t going to look at or comment on his penis, and was desperately hoping it wasn’t going to become erect. That was the main reason he wanted this over with. “Ah, ah,” she clucked, staring at his groin, her hands moving to his inner thighs. “THAT is not ‘wide open.’” She pushed his knees gently until they were nearly flat against the table, completely exposing his privates. He blushed with humiliation. “That’s better. THAT’S how wide apart your legs need to be. And now, ‘up’.” He was partially in his own whirling world of embarrassment, and was slow to realize she wanted him to move again. “Come on now, up you go,” she prompted again, tapping his bottom to get his attention. He quickly pulled his knees up toward his shoulders, rotating his bottom up toward her. He realized suddenly that now she had an excellent view of his wide open backside, something that no woman other than his own mother had ever seen, as far as he knew. He flushed further as he noticed her eyes drop to his bottom and look appraisingly. She made a little sound he couldn’t interpret, but seemed to want to move past it. She again urged his legs further apart, stretching him as wide as possible, and tapped his bottom up a bit more. Then she smiled and said, “Excellent. That will work nicely.” He heard a rustling sound and felt her touch his lower back. “After you are cleaned up and a new diaper is in place, you’ll hear me say, ‘down,’ again, and that will be your cue to lower your legs into the original position.” He did, relieved, and felt a bulky soft sensation under his upper buttocks as he set down. He knew what that was without having to look, and thought maybe he might be sweating. He started to close his legs instinctively, but felt her hands again on his thighs. “Not yet. Still wide apart. Pretty much always wide apart for me, please, until you sit up.” He felt a cool sensation over his bottom and genitals, and started to glance down before he caught the scent of baby powder. He glanced down in alarm, and saw her shaking a baby powder bottle over him. A quick shake here and there, and she was done. He was too stressed to admit it had always been a smell he enjoyed. He certainly couldn’t admit that here, now. Next he felt her pull the diaper up through his legs and tape it firmly in place on his lower belly. It felt snug and comfortable, but substantial, between his legs. He was very grateful not to be naked, and even happier that he hadn’t developed an erection during the procedure. That seemed like a miracle, given the fact that a pretty young woman was inches away from his naked body. But his stress and worry seemed to have protected him for the time being. “Okay, sit up now,” she directed him. And he did so, pulling his knees together and swinging around to hang them over the table. It was a little awkward to feel the bulk between his legs, and he heard a rustle as he moved. “You did wonderfully! Quite the big boy. Wasn’t that easy and painless?” she asked, smiling. He grunted a little. It had actually hurt, but only his pride. He had to admit that, even with the instructions, she had done that very fast. But what could he possibly say out loud? “Well, I know you can’t admit it, but you did fine. I think this will work very well. Now, you should be careful standing up, because your pants are still down. You can pull them up now, and see how that feels.” He quickly moved to follow her directions, happy to cover up the diaper, which must look ridiculous on him. He pulled up his boxers, which slid slickly over the plastic of the diaper, and then pulled his pants up while she folded up the blue pad and put the baby powder away. He was able to button them fairly easily, and the zipper was a little tight, but he got that up as well. He finished and looked down to make sure it looked acceptable. She turned and looked as well. “Well, that’s not too bad at all, is it? I wouldn’t be able to tell you are wearing a diaper!” she remarked cheerfully. He wasn’t sure. The front of his khakis definitely puffed out, and though he turned his head, he couldn’t really tell about the back. “I don’t know,” he said hesitantly. “Won’t people be able to tell right away?” “Nonsense,” she said, unlocking but not opening the door. “If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t know to look. People aren’t nearly that smart, and people are too polite to stare at your crotch. You’re just overly sensitive.” She turned around again to look him in the eye. “No one will know. It is our secret.” He thought of something else and tensed up. “You put baby powder on me,” he said accusingly. “I’m sure people will smell it.” Julie smiled. “Well, maybe,” she admitted. “But they’ll just think you smell nice. I personally LOVE that smell. And it is way better than smelling like a used diaper, isn’t it?” She was gratified to see his eyebrows twitch with concern. She came nearer and took his hands in hers. “You’ll be just fine. There are really only two things to remember: first, no potty breaks. Second, when you think you need to be changed, come see me.” She saw him swallow self-consciously. “You’ll do fine. Pretend it’s not there. You’ll be used to it in no time.” “Wait—“ he stammered. That made him consider something for the first time. “How long do I have to wear this?” She wrinkled her brow and cocked her head slightly, as if she had misheard him. “What do you mean?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I didn’t ask before. But this is just for this morning, right? Or today? To prove a point? When can I be done?” He chanced a brief look at her face, but found it hard to meet her eyes. She was 5-6 inches shorter than he, but seemed very intimidating right now. He stared at the floor. She, however, reached out for his chin and brought it up, forcing him gently to look at her. “Sweetie, this isn’t just for the morning or today. But let’s just get through today and tomorrow and then…we can talk about it, okay?” She smiled at him. He nodded thoughtfully, as he thought this sounded like it was up for discussion. He would have to think about what he would say tomorrow to convince her to give it up. Why hadn’t he negotiated how long this would last before he agreed to it? He wandered away, and she watched the diaper through his pants shift back and forth, rustling gently. He wasn’t quite waddling, but the diaper was definitely changing the way he walked. She adored that look in her boys, but was starting to think she might like it even better in her doctor. That could NOT have gone better, from her perspective. She’d planned this for a long, long time, working out options for every possible contingency. She’d expected reluctance, of course. Julie had hoped she wouldn’t need to threaten him, and was very happy she didn’t need to. A lot of what she had planned depended on trust. This doctor was naïve, well-intentioned, attractive, and single. From the moment she had started working for him, she had fantasized about being with him. He hadn’t asked her out yet, so she’d needed to jump-start their relationship. Nothing like having a man naked on a table in front of you to force some intimacy! She had guessed correctly that he could be motivated by his desire to be a better doctor and employer. She knew he was shy, and that was why she took the leap today. She had a little experience bossing around men, and had generally found she liked it. It was part of why she liked being a nurse. Patients responded well to her. But this was a little different. Yes, she truly had a good excuse to diaper him. But this could also turn into a serious, long-term project, and she had high hopes for where it could eventually lead. For now, she had to nurture him through the next few hours carefully and gently. Then she could worry about the next few days and weeks. One step at a time. Chapter 2 He was extremely self-conscious of every step. In his mind, the diaper was clearly visible and audible to everyone, though oddly no one seemed to be commenting about it. His cheeks burned as he made his way through the hallways from exam room to exam room. He could feel it, warm and bulky between his legs, hear it rustling quietly with every step, see it bulging gently under his khakis, and when he sat down, he could smell the faint scent of baby powder. But even in the quiet exam rooms, patients didn’t seem to want to say anything about it. Were they too embarrassed for him to mention it? Was it really possible that they weren’t noticing? As the morning wore on, it became clear that a fair number of them, anyway, couldn’t tell. If he just pretended nothing was wrong, they seemed to carry on that way, too, and with every visit that passed, he did relax a little bit. He tried to keep up conversation during quiet times when he had to move around, just in case he needed to mask the sound. The growing pressure in his bladder was tolerable. He had already had his bathroom break, after all, so it wasn’t difficult to ignore the issue until lunchtime. This was when he usually got a second break to hit the restroom. When he finished seeing patients for the morning, he felt like it was a little silly not to go. After all, there weren’t patients waiting. Would Julie really mind? On his way over to the lunch room he turned down the hall to the bathroom. As luck would have it, he met Julie coming out of the bathroom, the smell of soap fresh on her hands. She stopped and looked him up and down as he stood, surprised and unprepared to meet her. There was nothing else along this part of the hall that he could say he was going to do. “So…what’s up?” she asked, smiling pleasantly, as if they were pals meeting on the street. “I, just, well, needed to…” he faded out, not willing to discuss it with her. Suddenly he realized she might be serious about not wanting him to go to the bathroom. “Were you heading to the potty?” He nodded, at first not saying anything. “Well, I finished seeing patients, so, um, I—well, I—thought it might be okay to, um…” he stammered, looking at his feet. “Hmmm,” she said, nodding. “Well, I don’t remember telling you that you could go to the potty. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you that you were NOT to use the potty at all today.” She touched his elbow gently, making him look up briefly at her. “Remember?” “Yes, but—“ “Yes, ma’am, please,” she corrected quietly, as if it were a common error she had corrected before. He stopped and looked at her briefly, and decided he didn’t want to make a big deal about that right now. “Yes, ma’am, but there aren’t any patients waiting. I thought that was the point.” She glanced around to make sure they were alone. Everyone else had gone off to lunch. “Well, it was part of the point. We’re also trying to make sure that I and your other employees get home as soon as they can. And if you are fiddling around in the potty, you aren’t working or eating, and that will lengthen our day. “I don’t want you in the potty at all today. If you have to pee, I want you to pee in your diaper. Is it too wet to pee in?” He looked confused for a moment. She saw he didn’t understand. She clarified, “Did you already wet your diaper? If you pee again, will your diaper leak?” “Of course not!“ he said, startled that she thought he might have peed in this thing. “Then feel free to tinkle away. You don’t need the potty right now.” He looked unhappy. She knew she had to sound reasonable. “Look, you’re free to use the potty after the patients are gone and your staff is home, or if there aren’t patients waiting and your task list is caught up. But you know as well as I do that you pretty much always have a task list. If today isn’t that rare day—and it isn’t because I just saw your task list—I don’t want you wasting time in the potty. You’ve got something else you can use now. “So…off you go to lunch. Don’t dilly-dally. See you afterward!” She turned him gently and patted him on his padded bottom. To his credit, she thought, he didn’t talk back or seem angry. Just quiet, like he needed time to readjust. He was thinking that he wasn’t truly desperate yet. His bladder wasn’t comfortable, but he could wait to pee. He certainly wasn’t going to do it in his diaper. That would be ridiculous, just what she wanted, and presumably would put him right back up on that changing table for more embarrassment. It was one thing to be forced to wear the diaper, but another thing to use it willingly. He was thinking about how little he could get away with drinking at lunch. He was just wondering if he could last until his patients were done that afternoon! He was sitting down to lunch with the other doctors and a drug rep—without a drink—when Julie walked past with her food and set a tall glass of water down in front of him. She winked at him and said to the others, “Wouldn’t want my doctor to get dehydrated! It’s a long day.” He was really starting to resent her, but–he didn’t need her to be upset with him. That could make their working relationship very difficult, and could cause his task list to grow dramatically. Keeping his nurse happy had truly become instinctual. So he said out loud, “Well, thanks!” She said, “You’re welcome,” and kept walking, but paused at the door and looked at him pointedly, raising her eyebrows. He raised the glass to his lips and took a token sip, setting it down again quickly. She didn’t budge. She kept staring at him, until others turned to see what was going on. Uncomfortable, he sheepishly took a longer draught of the water, until she nodded and left, smiling. Now he had a foreboding feeling. She was going to force him to pee. Not explicitly, but it was not going to be easy to hold off if he had to drink to make her happy. He’d have to talk to her about that. He finished his lunch and went to his desk, working for another 15 minutes on his task list. He worked hard, returning calls and forwarding messages to patients, hoping that the faster he got done, the sooner he could go home and escape this crazy day. And if he hurried, maybe he wouldn’t have to pee before finishing. But the longer he worked, the more the pressure in his bladder grew. Crap. He got up momentarily about 5 minutes before the first afternoon patient was scheduled to put some therapy forms in the “out” bin. While he was up, Julie walked into the work room. She walked right up to him and shocked him by cupping his crotch with her hand. “How’s it going?” she asked pleasantly. He yelped and jumped back reflexively. “Whoops! Sorry, force of habit,” she said, smiling a little. “Just checking to see if you needed to be changed.” “Well you could have just asked me!” he exclaimed, his cheeks burning at the reminder that he had been reduced to the level of one of her little boys. “Okay,” she replied. “Although I guess I already know the answer. ‘Do you need to be changed?’ I’ll point out that I do have about 2-3 minutes before the first patient comes to change your diaper if you do.” “Oh! No,” he replied quickly. “No need.” He tried to sound offhanded, but it came out seeming tense. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Really? That seems kind of strange. You always use the potty before the afternoon. You must really need to go. Are you holding back just so you won’t have to be changed? Are you scared of me?” She smiled to make it seem like a silly idea. “I doubt you can make it through the whole afternoon. You’ll be so uncomfortable.” He shifted positions a little, quite aware of the discomfort already. She was right, of course. But he hated to think about it. He couldn’t even really talk about it with her. So he didn’t say anything. “We won’t have time during the afternoon, I don’t think. Now is your only chance for a change. If you don’t pee now, once you do wet your diaper, you might have to be wet for the rest of the day.” He definitely didn’t want that. But he couldn’t stand the idea of “using” his diaper like a baby. And now she would know that he had done it, and even when he had done it. Having her so intimately aware of his private habits was almost as bad as using a diaper for them. This was excruciating. “Can we please just stop talking about it?” he pleaded, his exasperation with her bluntness showing. She grinned, clearly unconcerned with his shyness. “You are embarrassed about normal body processes, aren’t you? That is probably because you aren’t a parent yet, and not a nurse. We’re all about body fluids.” She became more serious. “I’m not really that interested in whether you are embarrassed, you might have noticed. I am entirely focused on keeping us efficient and on schedule. And I know that, if you look at the big picture, of course you do, too. “So swallow your pride. Do what’s best for the patients and staff. Now, do you need a change?” He swallowed and looked down. He said quietly, “I have to go, but I haven’t yet.” She folded her arms. “Well, we haven’t got much time. If you’re going to pee, go ahead.” He glanced up, alarmed. “I don’t think I can do it with you here.” He looked around. “Can you…give me some privacy?” Julie shook her head grimly. “I don’t think so, champ. We don’t have time. If you want a dry diaper for the afternoon, you have to go right now.” He shook his head. This was too much. He couldn’t pee right now, in front of her. “Oh, come on,” she said. “I can’t even see you peeing. That is ridiculous.” He stood in front of her, staring at a spot on the floor. The silence stretched on. “Are you peeing? Are you done?” she prompted, eyeing the clock. He shook his head, miserably. His bladder hurt by now, but she was staring at him. He pretended he was somewhere else, that she wasn’t there. It felt so strange to try to pee while wearing clothes. Every instinct told him to hold it in, but he knew he had to overcome it. He shut his eyes completely, and tried to pretend he was in front of a toilet with his fly open. He pretended he was alone in the bathroom. Eventually he felt a little wetness come out, and fought the considerable urge to stop it. More came and more came. He felt warmth spread between his legs, and felt the diaper get noticeably heavier. He kept going, eventually feeling spent and comfortable. Except for the heavy wet diaper between his legs. That, at last, was enough to make him willing to have it changed. Time to act. He opened his eyes. “Okay, I—“ He was alone in the workroom. He was relieved and touched that Julie gave him some space. It seemed a little unlike her, but he wasn’t going to be picky. But where was she? He waddled–and was aware that he waddled now that his diaper was wet–over to the door of the workroom and peeked outside, not willing to show himself in public. He had to wait a moment, but then he spotted her—bringing a patient to the nearby exam room! He pulled himself back into the room. He hated to have to wait for her, but he knew she would be angry if he tried to take care of himself on his own. He’d just need to wait for her. He played on his phone for a few minutes. Eventually she hurried in, but instead of catering to him, she went straight to her computer and started the notes for the patient’s appointment. She barely seemed to acknowledge him. He waited for a moment for her to attend to him, but it seemed like he had completely forgotten about him. He was confused, but also quite uncomfortable. “Um, Julie, I hate to bother you, but would you have time now to, um, well…” he trailed off, unwilling to say the actual words if he didn’t have to. She turned in her chair to face him standing across the room, his legs held slightly apart for comfort sake. “Time to do what?” He reddened. “You know, to, um, change the, um…” “Your what?” she asked, staring pleasantly up at him. He stared dumbly at her. Finally he realized she wanted him to say it. “The, um…diaper.” “Change your diaper? No, sorry. We ran out of time. You took too long. We’ll have to take care of it later if we have a break.” She turned her back to him again. He couldn’t quite believe she had said that. She couldn’t be serious. He started to panic a little. “I really need some help here. Did I do something to upset you?” She turned back and frowned slightly, wrinkling her brow. “Why, of course not. But this is not an emergency. It is not even really an “urgency”. You are not in wet pants. You are wearing a diaper, which by definition is optionally changeable. We’ll change it when we have a minute and patients are not waiting. You prefer being dry? Of course you do. Well, keep up with patients and we’ll get to you, okay?” She smiled at him encouragingly. He didn’t like being patronized. “But—but—what if it…leaks? It is REALLY wet!” His eyes pleaded with her. She dragged him backward and closed the door briefly. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Let’s see.” She cupped her hand in front of her and reached toward him. Before he knew what was happening, she had her hand against his crotch. It was strange not being able to feel it. But he felt the weight of the wet diaper lift and fall once, twice, three times. She pulled her hand away, then reached for his face. She spoke more quietly, sounding reassuring. “Your diaper is wet, but you won’t leak. It could even take some more, if you’ve got it.” She turned around and opened the door. “Stop worrying. You’ll be fine. Remember, keep up!” He was not happy. He felt humiliated and betrayed by her, not to mention uncomfortable. She had told him to pee, and then he did, and she refused to change him! He almost felt like crying. He couldn’t believe she expected him to work like this. This was far worse than spending some extra time in the bathroom, and he would never be able to get used to this feeling, of that he was sure. It sagged to a ridiculous depth between his legs, rubbing against his mid-thighs. It was warm near his body, but cooler down there, which was very distracting, and any air that snuck inside the diaper made him aware of the wetness. He shuffled into his first appointment of the afternoon shyly, sure his patient was as aware of his soggy diaper as he was. He sat down on his stool, and felt the wetness anew, cool against him. He smelled a wave of powdery urine waft up, and was ready to be embarrassed as the patient asked what was going on. He worried about wetness leaking onto his pants as he stood again. But the visit passed without any apparent observations by the patient that anything was wrong. It was–except for his preoccupation–a normal visit. He was a little less concerned after that, and started to learn to ignore the strangeness of the situation, focusing instead on his work. His diaper never really got warm, as it pressed against him only when he sat, and sagged down and cooled when standing. But he became less paranoid and stressed. After an hour, Julie caught him coming out of a room, and whispered, “Ok, quick—we have a minute now.” He almost didn’t realize what she was saying, but then he nodded and followed at as close to a trot as he could manage with a soggy diaper between his legs. He entered the work room, and Julie closed the door behind him. She was all business. “Ok, pants down, hop up,” she said briskly, patting the exam table, where a blue pad was already laid out. This time, he didn’t hesitate. He hurried to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his slacks, dropping them to the floor. He yanked down his boxers to reveal a drooping diaper. He saw that the yellow line down the front was now blue. He turned and eased himself up onto the table. “Okay, swing around and lie down,” she instructed. She held a dry diaper in her hand, placing it next to a box of baby wipes and the bottle of baby powder she had laid out on the nearby shelf. He did so quickly. He didn’t want to slow her down and miss his chance for a dry diaper. Once he was lying down, he felt her hands at the tapes on the front of the diaper and felt a rush of cool air on his privates. He suddenly felt a cold wet pressure and looked down to see her vigorously wiping him down. She pressed the wipe across his pubic hair, then used the wipe to grab his penis, quickly stroking it down to the tip and releasing it efficiently. He felt her touch his testicles, stretching the skin as she wiped these as well. She turned the wipe over and fed it along his inner thighs and the creases there, then said, “Up.” He only had to think for a second before realizing what she wanted him to do. He reached down to grab his knees and help pull his legs and hips up, spreading his knees as widely as he could. Again he felt silly exposing himself to her like this, but she wasn’t snickering or laughing. Instead, he felt the wet diaper being pulled from under him. He felt another wipe move quickly across his buttocks, and then into his crack, moving up toward his anus. She brushed over it firmly, and he thought she paused slightly here, giving it a little extra pressure before moving up to the back of his scrotum. Suddenly a nice soft dry cushion pushed against his bottom, and a cool sensation as she sprinkled some new powder on it. She directed him, “Down.” He lowered himself obediently, and felt the new diaper under him. She sprinkled a little more powder in the front, then grasped the diaper and pulled it up through his legs, having to reach around his pants, which tethered his legs together. She stretched it tightly over his penis, taping it down. “All done! Go ahead and swing around and get up. You can pull your pants up. We’ll have another patient ready for you in just a moment.” She popped open the door and strode out, brushing a little baby powder off her hands as she went. He glanced down and realized the whole thing had barely taken a single minute. And he felt…good. Dry, cozy, comfortable. He smiled for the first time that day, grateful to Julie for her kindness. “Thanks!” he called after her and was rewarded with a little smile as she turned toward the waiting room to call a patient back. The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly. He kept up easily, and was rewarded with a very happy nurse. She smiled at him frequently, and seemed to anticipate his every nursing need. They were quite efficient, and finished seeing patients on time for the first time he could remember. All that remained was the rest of the shared task list, which he liked to clean up as much as possible by the end of the day. He worked at his computer, finishing up tasks and calling patients with results. Near the end, Julie came and stood next to him. He turned and looked up at her. She raised her eyebrows. “Anything else for me?” “No, I think we’re good. You can get out of here if you want.” “Great! Then let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” She locked the door and walked to the cabinet with the blue pads. He had actually forgotten for a moment that he was still wearing a diaper. He looked down self-consciously. “Well, I’m sure I can take care of it myself at this point.” He saw her purse her lips slightly. “I mean, it’s just taking off the diaper, right? Not much chance I can screw that up.” “Oh, I think it is part of my responsibility to return you to your off-work state. I’ll feel better knowing you are yourself again, you know? Pants down, hop up!” She smiled expectantly. He felt himself redden again. This seemed unnecessary, but she had been nice before, and he liked the camaraderie they had developed. He didn’t want to disappoint her, and at the end of the day his fatigue made it easier not to argue. He slowly rose and walked over to her. He lowered his pants and boxers and laid back on the table. She tapped the insides of his knees and he let them fall apart self-consciously. She untaped him and pulled back the diaper. “You’re dry,” she commented, sounding a little surprised. “Well, I didn’t have to go,” he lied, feeling the pressure in his bladder. The truth was that he still didn’t want to appear as though he liked the idea, no matter the “convenience,” and thought he could hold out. “Hmm,” she said doubtfully. “I saw how much you drank at lunch, so I’m not sure I believe you. And we’re not going to save the diaper for reuse anyway, so there’s no point in your bladder being uncomfortable.” She was wiping his penis and testicles, a little more slowly than earlier, but he was grateful to observe that she didn’t seem to be lingering. She was all business, thank goodness. And so far, he’d been able to avoid an erection. He wasn’t sure he could handle that embarrassment. “Up,” she directed, and he obeyed. He felt the cool wetness spread across his buttocks, then invade the cleft between them. As before, he felt it hesitate and poke a little at his anus. He flinched slightly, but then realized she had moved on. But then he felt a sharp pulling from somewhere back behind his testicles. “You know, this has to go,” she mused, staring between his legs. “What?” he asked, somewhat alarmed and confused. “All of this messy hair. It is making it harder to clean. I’d like you to shave it tonight. Everything from here,” and here she indicated his testicles, “on back, should be completely nice and smooth.” He felt the diaper pulled out, and was instructed, “Down.” There was no dry diaper underneath this time when he set his feet back down, knees spread wide, and no powdery smell. She gestured at his pubic hair. “I won’t insist on shaving all of that,” she said, wrapping up the wipes inside the used diaper, “although my personal preference is to keep it much shorter and more neatly trimmed, if you keep it at all. But the front hair is less important for keeping you clean. The hair behind your penis, though, shouldn’t be there tomorrow.” She helped him sit up and looked him directly in the eye, as he had not yet acknowledged her remarks. “Okay? Can I get a ‘Yes, ma’am’ please?” He felt confused. This was her only criticism of his genital area. He hadn’t ever thought about it. It hurt to hear any criticism, of course, and he felt himself wanting to please her. She was so nice when she was happy. But it was weird and embarrassing to talk about. He wasn’t sure she should care, but he obviously wasn’t experienced at changing diapers. “Um, yes, ma’am,” he said distractedly. “Have you ever shaved down there? Do you have a real razor?” “No,” he said. “I have an electric razor.” She threw away the diaper and blue pad. “Well, go out and buy a nice manual razor. They’re not expensive, and I’ll want you to keep yourself nice and smooth down there. It’s your choice, but I think you’ll find the ones marketed to women to be better for this area. “You could use soap, or shaving cream, but you’ll probably want to do your shaving in the shower or the bathtub. You’ll need to stretch the skin, and until you have practiced, go slowly.” She was packing up her laptop and locking it in the cabinet. “Did you hear what I said before? Shall I repeat it? I’d like you to shave the back of your penis, your entire scrotum, and all the hair around your bottom. If you want to keep the hair in front, I guess that’s okay, but cut it nice and short, okay?” He was staring at the diaper cabinet, unable to believe he was having this conversation and not really wanting to engage. She stood watching him, apparently aware of his discomfort, smiling slightly. She turned up the heat. “What do you think? Crop the front short? Or just shave it completely off and be smooth all over?” He was shaken out of his stupor by the realization that she actually expected an answer. “Can…we just not talk about this now? It’s…I’m…I just want to finish my work. May I get dressed?” She smiled. “Of course. I didn’t mean to slow you down. But take care of that hair problem somehow tonight, okay? Say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’” “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, standing up and pulling up his boxers and khakis. She picked up her purse and came over and touched him on his arm. “You were a good boy today. Thanks for helping me to get our work done on time so I can see my family. Your cooperation means a lot to me. I hope it wasn’t too embarrassing for you.” It was, but he liked her smile. He didn’t want to argue with her. It was nice to think of today’s weirdness as something he was doing as a favor to her. “No, no, of course. Happy to help out.” “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, maybe a moment earlier than usual to get you ready, okay?” she asked. “And remember, nice and smooth. Good night!” “Good night,” he said, happy to be done with the conversation. She was exasperatingly direct about things! The embarrassment had taken a toll on him today. He started packing up his things. She walked away, jingling her car keys, very satisfied with her progress today. She had wanted to go further, faster, of course. She had so many ideas and plans, but she had to pace herself, allow him to fall deeper, deeply enough that he wouldn’t be able to get out. But she didn’t want him to be an unwilling victim. Instead, for now, she enjoyed the game of getting him to agree to do more and more embarrassing things, all because she said to do it. It was a little fun seeing his ambivalence and confusion about wanting to please her and yet feeling such obvious and intense humiliation. Being in charge always satisfied her, and she was not surprised to feel just how much sexual pleasure she felt today bossing her doctor around. It would make what she was planning a lot more fun. She had a long list of activities in her imagination, and after today, she was optimistic that she might get to try many of them. Yes, it had been a great day, and she couldn’t wait for tomorrow. She smiled. Chapter 3 He climbed into the hot shower with some apprehension. While he welcomed the relaxing warmth, he did not feel up to the task at hand. He let the water wash over him, thinking about the day he had just put behind him. He had let Julie have her way, rather than confront her at any point along the way. He knew that was stupid. Was he crazy to play along with her? She seemed so capable and smart, and funny, and nice, but the things she was asking him to do were just insane. He had sacrificed a lot to be a doctor, but she was asking him to give up his dignity, and he was finding it very hard to do. While her rationale seemed noble–he would do almost anything for his patients–at no time during his training had anyone ever suggested he avoid the bathroom in favor of a diaper. He hadn’t really ever heard of that before, but she seemed to make it sound relatively normal. Maybe he really had simply been sheltered. Astronauts? Race car drivers? Maybe he should google it to see. He had stopped at a pharmacy on the way home and found a women’s razor and some shaving cream. Thank goodness, no one looked at him strangely. Maybe they assumed he had a wife? He actually didn’t have a problem with shaving himself down there. He knew from his exams of young people that it was common these days, and even expected. But he had never felt comfortable about how exactly to do it. How much hair should he leave? He’d worried that shaving make him seem like he was trying too hard. He hadn’t known up until now. He was happy to have a little guidance from someone, anyone, though it would have been more natural coming from a lover. Instead, it was coming from his employee. And he was fairly sure that very few men shaved themselves for “ease in cleaning” the way he was instructed to. But if she was going to be looking at him there, he didn’t want her to be judging him every time she pulled down his diaper. And if it could make her smile—he loved her smile. He imagined her smiling at him tomorrow when she saw that he had obeyed her, and it made him feel warm inside. As he washed himself, he wondered just how many times she would be actually be seeing him down there. While she hadn’t been specific, she did agree to discuss it tomorrow. What could he say to get her to drop this whole diaper thing? Certainly she had to agree that he had played along, and that they made a good team. His willingness to share her goals could not be doubted, right? They tried it her way, it would be only fair to give him the benefit of the doubt. But nothing that had happened over the last 24 hours had seemed logical or predictable to him. He pointed the water away from his body and sprayed out a tiny bit of shaving lotion. He had trimmed his pubic hair before his shower, so he just needed to shave the hard to reach places. He had never tried this before, and just wanted to be very careful. He remembered what Julie had said, and stretched out his scrotum to make it easier. How did she know about that? He wondered. He supposed that some couples were intimate in different ways, but he had never shaved (or been shaved by) a partner. Well, he hadn’t really had more than a brief partner or two. Medical school and residency weren’t really conducive to a busy social life. He was book smart, but didn’t know much about relationships. Julie had a child, so her past sexual history might be much different. And maybe much more interesting. He slowly worked his way back, spreading his legs awkwardly and craning his neck to see. This might be easier in a bathtub, but he didn’t have one. Still, he was careful, as Julie advised, and managed to finish without cutting himself. He rinsed off and turned off the water. He dried himself and checked himself out in his bathroom mirror. Interesting. He didn’t mind the new look. He ran his fingers over the newly-hairless parts of his body. That felt so foreign, but nice. He could get ready for bed in a few minutes, but he decided to explore the new feel in a little more depth first. It was kind of erotic, wasn’t it, to have shaved himself because a woman asked him to? It felt so nice. He couldn’t help thinking about Julie as he made himself feel very, very good. Chapter 4 The next morning, he made it to work early. This was part of the plan he had come up with overnight to make his day easier. If he was on top of his task list, he might be more likely to persuade Julie to use the bathroom. He had made a point to pick out underwear that didn’t have holes in them: it was weird to have to consider Julie seeing his underpants, but he wanted to make as good an impression as possible. He didn’t have anything to drink for breakfast, and he wasn’t planning to drink anything all morning. The less he needed to pee, the less he needed to be changed. However, he was considering the likelihood that he would need to pee early during lunch so that he could start the afternoon with an empty bladder and a dry diaper. Most of all, he was going to make sure he spent some time discussing alternative arrangements with Julie for the future. Being shy was no excuse not to be assertive about his preferences. He was polishing off the few accumulated tasks from the overnight when Julie walked in. “Good morning!” she chirped happily. “Ready for the day?” “Yep, I guess so,” he replied, trying to sound as cheerful as she was. But his stress at having to play her game was probably showing through his façade. “I’m assuming you mean, ‘yes, ma’am,’” she noted quietly, putting down her purse, her smile fading a little. “Isn’t that right?” He swallowed. If he wanted something from her, it was a bad idea to get off on the wrong foot from the beginning. Why this little bit of protocol was important to her nagged at him a little bit, but he couldn’t dwell on it without potentially annoying her further. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry about that.” She looked back at him, the smile retaking her face. “I thought so. No harm done.” She looked at the clock. “I think we just have time to get you changed before seeing patients. Okay?” He was polite this time. “Yes, ma’am.” She smiled at him as she shut and locked the door. “Ooh, I love it when I can hear your manners! Okay, pants down. Hop up.” As he stood and began fumbling with his pants, she strode over to the cabinet and retrieved a diaper and blue pad. “You had some homework last night. How’d you do?” He waited, pants around his ankles, for her to put the blue pad down. “Okay, I guess.” He sat on the pad and when she raised her eyebrows expectantly, swung around and lay down. He had been satisfied with the job he’d done and thought she would be pleased, but, when it came right down to it now, found himself just as hesitant to expose himself to her as he had been yesterday. She tapped the inside of his knees. “Come on, now. You know better than that,” she chided, apparently not thinking his legs were spread widely enough. He leaned them out, but they wouldn’t go further. “But—I—“ he stammered, unable to move them. She appraised the situation, then nodded. “Ah,” she said, grasping his pants and yanking them down further to his ankles. “You didn’t have your pants down far enough.” With his pants bunched up down at his shoes, he was able to let his legs fall apart completely, giving her the access she wanted to his diaper area. She moved up so that she stood next to him to get a closer look. “Oh,” she said with an impressed look. “You did well. Doesn’t that look nice?” Her hand reached out to his closely trimmed pubic hair, touching it and even caressing it gently. She traced the outline of it. He was initially shocked at the contact. She hadn’t actually touched him before this, except with a baby wipe in her hand. Lying back, he could see her standing above him, arm outstretched, but couldn’t see her hand, which just seemed to be dancing across his pubic area. Suddenly he felt her fingers on his penis, gently stroking that! They moved slowly from the base down to—but not onto—the tip. He gasped, and saw her smile appreciatively. He felt her lift his penis up and run her finger down the underside from the sensitive area down to the base again. He knew it would happen even before he felt it. His penis started to stiffen. She seemed not to notice at first, holding it up with one hand and now moving her other hand to caress his smooth testicles. Wow, he thought. That feels incredible. The lack of any other contact on his body and the gentle minimalist touch on his genitalia made this feel even more exquisite. Her fingers continued their exploration down and back behind his scrotum, and he stopped being aware of anything around him. He missed it when she said, “Up, please,” to him. He did notice when she took her hands away and gave him a light smack on the buttocks. “Excuse me, did we forget since yesterday? Do you remember what ‘up’ means?” His eyes snapped open at the gentle smack to his bottom. He quickly lifted his hips and grabbed his knees, pulling them towards his head and as far apart as possible. He was rewarded with a “That’s it, ooh, smooth.” She cooed as her hand found him again, touching his scrotum, and making its way toward his anus. He stopped breathing as she traced a little circle around it slowly, then continued up his cleft toward his back. Suddenly he felt both hands across his buttocks, again caressing and circling the area. “Now, that is MUCH better than yesterday. There are a few little hairs you might have missed, but you did great for a first try.” He noticed her speaking to him in a tone that would have been more appropriate for a child than an adult, but didn’t mind. He just wanted her touching him again. But then he felt the familiar soft thick presence of the diaper under him. “Down,” she said. Oh, crap. He thought. He was hard as a rock, and his folded legs were concealing it. He hesitated obeying her, wondering how he could avoid showing himself to her in this state. Maybe he could delay for a moment? If he put his legs down now, there would be no way she could miss— “Ow!” he yelled, as he felt a sharp smack–much harder this time–on his bottom. He involuntarily released his knees in defense, and his legs straightened to protect himself. “When I ask you to do something, I expect you to listen. That is the second time you…” She trailed off when she saw his stiff penis bobbing up and down. He tried to cover himself with his hands, pulling his knees together as well. To his horror, he saw her break into a wide smile. “Now that makes my day. I was starting to think you didn’t like me. It’s quite a compliment, you know?” He remained huddled, covering himself as best he could. She walked over to the refrigerator that held the vaccines, momentarily turning her back to him. “I know it has a mind of its own. I’m familiar with the bodies of boys. There’s no reason to be embarrassed.” She pulled something out and turned back to him. “However, it does present a little bit of a problem for your diaper, of course. We need a good seal, and your peepee can’t be pointed up like that, or we’ll get some awkward leakage later. So we need some way to get rid of that little stiffy.” She held out one hand and touched his knees, still clenched together desperately. “These knees are really going to get you in trouble with me, I can tell. I don’t want to have to tell you again to spread them wide open,” she told him, the smile gone. “NOW.” Slowly, he opened his knees but kept his hands inefficiently cupped around his engorged penis. “That’s better,” she said. “Now, your hands need to find a better place to be. How about behind your head?” He hesitated. This was humiliating. She slapped his hands sharply. “We don’t have time for this,” she said. “If you want to have time for me to change you AT ALL today, let’s get going.” He reluctantly released his penis and put his hands behind his head. There was a trace of a smirk on her face which she apparently was trying to hide. He closed his eyes in shame. But they flew open wide again when he felt something shockingly cold over his groin. Gasping, he looked down, seeing her holding an ice pack to his penis. It was large, and she had wrapped it around it, allowing it to cover his testicles and inner thighs as well. “Holy shit!” he sputtered. “That’s too much!” His hands became unclasped from behind his head, but he stopped them from interfering, sensing that was too much. He glanced at her face, and caught a very stern look he had only seen on his mother’s face. “Hands,” was all she said, her voice as cold as the ice pack. Slowly, he put them back. Her face relaxed a little, but she kept eye contact, forcing him to drop his eyes and finally close them in defeat. His groin was starting to feel numb now. He pretended he was somewhere else. “I don’t like cursing,” she told him sternly. Then, more to herself, “If it becomes a problem, maybe we’ll have to see how you like a little mouth-soaping.” His eyes widened as her words brought him back to reality. He felt like she had to be kidding, but her expression was totally serious. And he was learning to take her seriously. How had he gotten himself into this nightmare? He closed his eyes again. After another minute, he heard the ice rattle and looked down to see that the pack was gone. She was turning back to the refrigerator. He was numb enough that he couldn’t have felt it. He lifted his head and noticed that his penis was limp again, pale white, and shrunken as if he were a little boy. “That will make things easier,” she commented. She turned back, grabbed a towel, and brusquely patted him dry, the condensation having dampened the skin. She sprinkled some baby powder over him and pulled the diaper up tightly, taping him securely, then patted him over his penis, through the diaper. “Ok, mission accomplished, despite the detour. You can get dressed.” He stood and rapidly pulled his pants up. She cleared her throat. “Did you have something you wanted to say to me?” She was suddenly a stickler for manners, apparently. “Thank you.” She raised her eyebrows. “…Ma’am,” he added quickly. This seemed to satisfy her, and she turned to unlock the door. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I almost forgot.” She went to her purse, pulling out a tall cup with a lid and a hard straw. He saw that it was colored baby blue and had teddy bears on it. “I saw that you were a little dehydrated yesterday.” His confusion must have registered on his face. She explained, “The pee in your diaper was too dark yellow. As you know, it ought to be nearly clear. It is easy to fall behind on your hydration during a busy day, and I don’t want our…arrangement,” and here she looked at his padded diaper area, “to discourage hydration. That could influence your health negatively, after all.” She smiled. He thought it seemed a little mischievous. “So I vow to help you remember to drink throughout the day.” He stared at the cup, which appeared to be full. “It’s water. Sorry if the cup looks a little young for your age, but it’s all I had at home. How about if we say that you should have this drunk by 10am? We can do another by the time you start in the afternoon, and a third by 3pm. That should keep your kidneys working. We’re a team! And I’ll keep you healthy.” His heart sank. He didn’t want to refuse her. She seemed to have a temper today. But she was going to force him to wet his diaper frequently today. “Of course, if your urine is still too dark, we can adjust how often you have to empty it.” The door was open now, and she patted his puffy behind on her way out to get the first patient. “Time for work!” Chapter 5 It was hard for him to focus on anything other than the memory of her touch on his newly shaven body. He couldn’t stop thinking about her smile at his erection, and her gentle, sensitive fingers. Of course, that made him hard all over again, which was extremely awkward. Every time he passed Julie or talked to her in the workroom, she flashed a little smile that seemed designed to set him off again. It was like she knew just what she was doing to him. It was not overtly flirtatious, on the surface being completely professional, but it was fairly close to the line. He could barely feel pressure through his diaper, but that didn’t keep him from trying to put some surreptitious pressure on himself when he could. Ordinarily, in this situation, he might excuse himself and head to the bathroom for just a few minutes to “take care of” the situation, but that was now apparently off the table. He felt frustrated, and comforted himself thinking about how he would be able to make himself more comfortable after work. But that seemed like a long way off. At 9:30, Julie caught him in between rooms, teddy bear cup in hand. She didn’t say anything, but held it out to him expectantly. It was still full. He reluctantly accepted it and sipped a little, handing it back with a very small smile. “Thanks,” he said halfheartedly. She didn’t accept it back. “Nice try,” she said, smirking. “Drink up!” He set his laptop down, and tried not to glare at her. He stood in the hall, sucking water through the straw, until he sucked air. At this point, she beamed, whispering, “Good boy! I’ll see you later,” looking at his diaper meaningfully. He shook his head and went in with his next patient. Within an hour, his bladder was begging for relief. He was able to hold off until 11, but decided to pee a little into his diaper to make himself comfortable enough to finish the morning. He walked nonchalantly into the work room, pretending to look at a chart. He had just about relaxed enough to start peeing when Julie entered. Seeing him there, she strode over and cupped his crotch. “Nothing yet, huh? Is that why you’re back here? Did you duck in here to pee in your diaper?” He reddened. He had hoped for some privacy. “I do have to go, but…I can wait if you need something.” She smiled a little. “Oh, no, I don’t need anything.” She stood silently, a little knowing smile playing across her face. He glanced around, nervously. “Is there a reason you like to be here for this? It’s a little weird. Not to mention that it makes it harder to go…” She folded her arms. “I’m not sure why it should bother you. It is a natural bodily process, we’re both medical professionals. Also, one of the principal benefits of your diaper is that you can go right in public. Seems like most people would LOVE that feature. So why not take advantage of that?” He still looked dubious, but she seemed like a lawyer who had wrapped up a case. He had always been shy about the bathroom; he even hesitated using urinals in a crowded men’s room. Wouldn’t most people feel awkward in this situation? Didn’t he have a right to pee in private? “I really like to be alone sometimes. Would you mind waiting for me outside?” She studied him. “Yes, I mind. You gave up the right to privacy. You proved you can’t be trusted in the potty by yourself. You’ve lost your potty privileges. So, I don’t feel any need to honor your dignity by having to inconvenience myself so you can be alone.” She paused. “And…I have to admit that I enjoy your embarrassment a little bit. It seems so silly to be hung up about peeing in front of me, so I feel like we should get you past that. Why not today?” Her seemingly rational and unsympathetic approach exasperated him, as did her willingness to talk about things that should be private. If there was anything that might be worse than peeing in front of her, it would be talking about his bathroom functions. She seemed to recognize this, and even enjoy it. But the joy she was taking seemed friendly rather than malicious. She really did seem interested in helping him, even as she forced him to do things that were embarrassing. So he closed his eyes as he had done before and concentrated on relieving himself, pretending he was alone. He was able, after a moment, to relax enough to pee, and he drained some of his bladder. He stopped himself before he was done, however, because he didn’t want to be so wet that he might leak. He opened his eyes, expecting that she might have left again. But this time she was still standing in front of him, arms folded, eyebrows raised, with eyes that shifted between his face and his diaper. When she saw his eyes open, she again stepped forward and felt the full warm diaper. She lifted and squeezed gently, apparently gauging the product of his performance. Then she smiled, and patted him on the bottom. “Good work! That wasn’t so hard, was it? We’ll take care of that in a little while. You’re fine for a bit. Better get back to work for now.” And she turned on her heel and left before he had the chance to argue. He stared after her blankly. She didn’t seem upset, just unmotivated to change his diaper. There was a patient waiting. Maybe she wanted to be caught up first. He tried to ignore the full warm bulk between his legs, and focus on his work. He moved slowly, sat carefully, and felt the memorable squishing sensation. He was still sure he couldn’t possibly get used to that. But he had a little more confidence that he could work with it. He made sure he was efficient, and after 2 more appointments, he found Julie waiting in the hall for him. She didn’t say anything, just turned and walked down the short hall toward the workroom. He waddled after her quickly, aware of his rustling, feeling the wet diaper shift with each step. She locked the door after him, and he heard the familiar, “Pants down, hop up!” He didn’t hesitate. She was quick this time, which was good. This time, even without her fingers actively touching him directly, except with the wipe, he felt himself start to stiffen. The last encounter had sexualized the whole thing for him, and his waning embarrassment unfortunately left him more able to focus on the sensations and situation. She seemed to realize the possibility, and efficiently got a dry diaper taped on him quickly. He gratefully pulled his pants up, noting that less than a minute had elapsed. She again patted his bottom as she sent him back to work. He did notice that his teddy bear cup appeared to be full again, but she wasn’t insisting on draining it yet, so he didn’t ask. But by the time his morning was over, she greeted him with it, sending him on the way to lunch with a full cup of water. He actually didn’t mind, because he was planning on trying to wet his diaper early enough that she would change it before the afternoon started. If he had to play this game, he was going to play it smart. He drained the cup at the beginning of the meal, then managed to wet himself surreptitiously while standing in the lunchroom listening to others talk. Wetting himself right in front of other people made him nervous—could they tell? It felt so visible, but no one around him seemed to notice or care. The doctors ate together, often pestered by pharmaceutical representatives, while the nurses ate with the rest of the staff in another, larger room. But everyone retrieved their lunch together and threw their trash out in the same place, and he wasn’t surprised, as he squeezed the last few drops into his diaper, to see Julie watching him out of the corner of his eye. How did she always know? “New cup today?” One of his colleagues pointed at the teddy bear design as they sat down to eat. “Cute.” He blushed. “It’s Julie’s, but she’s letting me borrow it.” His colleague nodded. “Whatever works, I guess. You guys finished a little early today. Light schedule?” He shook his head. “Well, not really. Maybe easier patients?” But he suspected that they had just been particularly efficient that morning. Teamwork could really help the day fly by. Chapter 6 He sloshed back to the workroom to work on his task list on the computer, knowing that he’d be more likely to be changed promptly if there was not a backlog of work. He whittled it down nicely over the next 15 minutes, so that when Julie walked through the door, he only had a call to return to someone who wasn’t home. She walked up behind him and patted him on the shoulder. “Look who’s been busy!” she said, impressed. “Amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it.” He turned his head to meet her gaze. She winked knowingly. “Looks like you have a minute to get more comfortable. Interested?” He nodded. “Yes, please. I’m—“ He stopped self-consciously. “Damp? Uncomfortable? Soaked?” she prodded, nodding. “Why don’t we take care of that?” She went to lock the door. He stood up and undid his belt. She smiled at how far he’d come. Had it really only been yesterday that she had had to threaten him to pull his pants down? She retrieved a dry diaper. She’d left a blue pad, the wipes, and the baby powder at what had become their changing table. It wasn’t that she wanted others to know about the situation, but she also wasn’t opposed to the idea. Sooner or later, the staff would figure out that he was wearing diapers. She hadn’t yet figured out how they would explain that, but assumed it would be a urological explanation, like maybe he had bladder or prostate issues. Eventually, having him outed would make things easier. But he wasn’t sure his ego could take it yet. Slow and steady wins the race. This race was definitely on, and it looked like she was winning. He had his pants down and was up on the table, lying back, legs stretched widely apart. She untaped his diaper and pulled it down, breathing in the familiar mix of urine and powder that she liked so much. The diaper was indeed soaked, and this also made her happy. He had settled in nicely to following her rules, which certainly boded well for the future. It had been nothing more than pure luck, really, that they had been paired upon her hiring, but there was nothing coincidental about where they were today. She had immediately recognized his submissive nature in the way he dropped his eyes when they talked. He was socially a little shy in an appealing way. She had gently extended some work-appropriate flirtation, and his reaction to these very bland comments had confirmed both his social inexperience and receptiveness to her leadership. He might be smart and educated, but that didn’t mean he knew his way around dating or sex. It hadn’t taken long for her to start daydreaming about him. Julie was in her late twenties, old enough to have a failed marriage but young enough to retain a healthy interest in having another. Her two young children took a lot of energy, and she could see the advantage of having a man in her life. But this time, it would have to be on her terms. And she had decided firmly on her terms at about the same time she had kicked her ex-husband out of her house and life. She had taken two other jobs since her kids were born, one at a different doctor’s office. There were several young doctors, and she realized she shared plenty in common with these men, who were generally smart and professional. Wouldn’t it be nice if she could find someone she could build a relationship with, the way she wanted it? When she couldn’t get the hours she needed to pay her rent, she first worked at a nursing home, and still had friends there. She generally didn’t like the hours, so she had switched back to an outpatient clinic. She would sometimes cover her friends’ shifts for extra money, however. This job was definitely the best she had found. She had lucked into finding a gentle, smart, and apparently submissive young doctor–who might turn out to be a good partner. It seemed too good to be true, and she knew she might never get another opportunity like this one. So she had planned her ambush, thought through what might motivate him, and had a very careful blueprint for drawing him into her life. The plan made good use of her willingness to embarrass him into cooperating. She would motivate him by appealing to his desire to help her, and to help his patients. She wasn’t afraid to shame or bully him if needed, but so far she hadn’t needed to resort to that. She felt on solid footing now. He’d accepted her as being in charge, and seemed to respond well to her mommy’s-the-boss repertoire. He was unaccustomed to being subservient, but by nature seemed to be a natural. He just needed a crash course in what she expected. She felt strongly that if she handled it right, she could indoctrinate him any way she chose. She just needed the right balance of being stern and kind, and she needed to keep him focused on the benefits of obeying her. She pulled out a baby wipe. Chapter 7 He lay obediently with his feet down and knees far apart, exposing himself to Julie as she shocked his pubic skin with her cold wipe. She brought it over his shortened hair, then grasped his penis and efficiently wrapped her fingers and thumb around it, pulling down toward the tip quickly. She cupped and wiped his scrotum, then quietly commanded, “Up.” He raised his legs as he thought about how absurd this situation was. When he came to work yesterday, he would never have believed any of this. But, odd as it sounded, he was starting to trust Julie. Even though she had been–what was the word? stern?–with him yesterday, everything she had done since then had been reassuring. She kept emphasizing efficiency and service to patients. He believed strongly in these things, and had now seen that the two of them, working together, were a very good team. She had always seemed bright, witty, and compassionate, but the last 24 hours had seen her up her game with their patients. It was almost worth it. But wait. Surely it wasn’t completely worth it. Lying naked in front of her was absolutely humiliating, he thought, as she threw away the first wipe and retrieved another fresh one, which—whew!—was cold again, and drew it across his bottom. He had never been outgoing, and she was the kind of person who befuddled him. She was fearless and direct. She did not seem to care about his embarrassment. But Julie also seemed to be so focused on working together for a cause he could understand, and she wasn’t making fun of his nakedness or of his acquiescence. He had certainly met women who had been unimpressed with his shyness and trouble making small talk. Some early disasters with girls had left him tentative and quiet. He counted himself lucky to have had a serious girlfriend in college and another in medical school. They had been even less outgoing than he, and he’d at least had some sexual experience. But women like Julie, while intriguing to him, scared him and left him uncertain. Now, as she brought the wipe down his crack toward his anus, he wouldn’t know how to confront her about the bizarreness of how she was treating him. He felt her poke his anus, twisting the wipe. This didn’t hurt, but he didn’t understand why she did it. Maybe if he asked nicely, she would tell him, or (preferably) stop. After this came the cool sprinkle of the baby powder, with the scent eventually wafting up. Then the new diaper slipped under his bottom, and the direction, “Down.” The new crinkly bulk pulled up over him, and taped down tightly. “Okay, I’ll go check to see if there is a patient waiting.” He sat up, legs hanging off the side of the table, gathered his courage, and asked his question. “Do you mind if I ask you something?” Her face became guarded for an instant, then cleared. “No, of course not. What is it, sweetie?” “Sweetie” was nice, he thought at first blush. He’d have to consider that, but not now. “Why do you do that poking thing every time?” He couldn’t meet her gaze, embarrassed at having to ask the question at all. While he hated talking about anything diaper- or bathroom-related, he disliked the anal probing (that’s what it was, right?) even more. “What poking?” She seemed genuinely confused, then said, “Oh, you mean when I’m cleaning your bottom?” He nodded, staring at the floor. He heard her say, “I can’t hear your manners.” He looked up, then realized what she meant. “Yes. Yes, ma’am.” She smiled brightly. “That’s much better. I love it when you’re polite.” She came back over and sat next to him. He became aware of the fact that he had failed to pull up his pants. He was sitting next to her with his pants and boxers down around his ankles, a puffy diaper showing under his shirttail. But this didn’t seem like the right time to remedy that. It would have to wait. At the same time, it made their conversation a little awkward, since it seemed to make her the adult. It was hard to plead for his dignity when he was happy sitting in just a diaper. “Well,” she said, knitting her brow, apparently deciding how to address his question. “That is a good question. I wasn’t going to bring up the topic with you so soon, but since you’ve asked, we should discuss it.” She scooted a little away on the table and then turned to face him, best she could. “The first time, yesterday, it was just habit. As you know, I have two little boys, both of whom are still in diapers. The older one is just getting interested in the potty. “I change them the same way I change you, of course, and cleaning their bottoms is just a part of that. An important part of that, wouldn’t you agree? Nobody likes a dirty bottom,” she said, as if it was a religious tenet of some common faith they shared. “So yesterday, I just did to you what I usually do for them, just to make sure their bottoms are clean. “I always wipe them, then check the wipe to see if it is clean. You know, to see if they need more attention down there. You can imagine my surprise yesterday, when I checked the wipe after cleaning your bottom, the wipe came away a little dirty. Apparently you don’t wipe enough after you poop.” He sat, shocked, and didn’t know how to respond. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, because I imagine it’s something most people would be sensitive about, so I wasn’t going to bring it up. But…you asked…” Julie was watching his face, monitoring his reaction. “It’s not that big a deal to me, you understand. I’ve generally noticed that men, male patients, tend not to pay as much attention to wiping, so I wasn’t surprised. But you’re welcome to work on that a little bit if you want.” She hopped up. “If you look clean for a few days in a row, maybe I’ll just do spot checks,” she said, smiling, trying unsuccessfully to meet his eyes, which were firmly staring at the floor. “I’m sure you want to be clean, and I want that, too. I’ll quit poking your bottom once you show me you can clean yourself up to my standards. Deal?” His cheeks burned, unable to believe they were talking about this most basic of bathroom habits. His stunned silence was interrupted by her hand on his chin, lifting his face until he couldn’t help but look in her eyes. He expected them to be critical, disgusted, accusatory. But they weren’t. Julie’s eyes were warm and happy. Now that he was looking into them, he couldn’t remember what she had asked. “Deal?” she said again, amused at his distraction. “Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically, unsure at first what he had just agreed to. But she seemed to want him to agree. His answer appeared to make her happy, so that was good. “That’s my good boy,” she said, releasing his chin and his gaze, and looking down at him. He was still sitting in his diaper with his pants around his ankles. “Now you’d better get your pants pulled up so I can open the door. We’ll have a patient waiting, I expect.” He hadn’t realized he was still half undressed. He jumped off the exam table and pulled up his pants, hurriedly trying to zip and buckle himself. She smiled fondly at his hurried efforts, then disappeared to start the afternoon. He didn’t really have time to ponder her comments, as they were a little behind due to his question. By 2:30, however, he really needed to pee, and found a full teddy bear cup at his work station in between patients. He wet himself nearly without thinking as he downed the cup under her approving eyes. When she turned away immediately to busy herself with a different task, he understood that it wasn’t time to be changed yet. But he worked quickly, and was rewarded with Julie waiting outside a patient room 30 minutes later. She gave him a “follow me” look he had learned to recognize, and obediently did so. The familiar, “Pants down, hop up!” led to a quick dry diaper, and he was able to finish the afternoon quickly. Chapter 8 At the end of the day, he had only a few tasks to complete on his computer and a single phone call to make. He was amazed, until he realized that not only had he been more efficient, but Julie had, too. She had handled more of his work than he was used to, and as a result, they didn’t have much to do after the patients had gone. That was a nice change. “Would you like to get out of that wet diaper?” she asked, as she watched him finish a final note documenting a phone call. He was confused. “What?” “Your diaper is wet. It’s okay to get you cleaned up and ready for home.” She had that amused look again. He hadn’t realized that he was sitting in a wet diaper. If he thought back, of course, he could remember wetting it, but maybe he had apparently gotten a little used to the sensation. That didn’t seem like a good sign. It reminded him of something. “Yes, please,” he said, getting up and unbuckling his pants. She had the door locked. “Ooh, I like your manners.” She came over and helped him lie down. He decided that if she was happy, he should ask his question now. “Umm…may I ask another question?” She was untaping his diaper and pulling it down. Her cold wipe came out. “Of course, sweetheart,” she cooed. He felt the cool sensation across his pubic area, then down, down, encircling his penis. And gently wiping, and wiping…was she lingering a little? He felt himself stiffen quickly. Uh-oh. His hands instinctively flew down to cover himself. “Ah—no hands,” she said, lightly smacking his hands. Embarrassed, but mindful of staying on her good side—he’d need that in a moment, he reluctantly moved his arms back up above his head. She could see what was happening, and apparently either didn’t mind, or—more likely, given her reaction—had intended it. What did that mean?! he wondered, growing anxious. It was wrong to let her touch him, at least like this. But he had let her do it before, so correcting her would be awkward, and he surely didn’t want to argue right before negotiating. He gulped and tried to think about anything else other than his growing excitement. That was turning out to be impossible. Her touch felt amazing! “What is it?” she asked, her brow furrowed in mock concern. Her fingers were not leaving his penis. He felt them tickle him a little, running up and down the shaft, touching under the head. No one had ever gently teased him this way, and it felt so nice. He was lost in the sensation. What was she asking him? “Umm…” “Your question. What can I answer for you?” She had him at full erection now, and gently touched him to keep his attention, but not so much as to stimulate him any closer to orgasm. Her touch was tender but almost teasing, not taking him so far that he felt he might lose control. He wondered idly if she might have done this before. He shook his head and tried to focus. “Oh, um, right. Well, yesterday, I asked when we could be done. You know, with the, um,” he looked at the cabinet and down toward her hands. “What?” she said casually, still lightly caressing him. She was obviously acutely aware of the effect she was having on him. She might have been enjoying it, but she kept a poker face. He was both having trouble focusing, but was also embarrassed to say the word. “You know, if I could be done wearing the, um…” “You can say the word diaper, you know,” she said, smiling at him. “That’s what it’s called.” “Ok,” he said, blushing. She stopped touching him for a moment. “Well, go ahead. Say the word.” He didn’t like to admit that he’d let her diaper him. But she was going to force him to say it. “Well, yesterday, you said I had to wear the…diapers…through today.” He again felt her warm hands stroke him softly. “And then we could talk about…ooh!” he gasped, as she applied the wipe to his testicles, gently stroking them now in turn. “About stopping. So…can we?” “Stop?” she asked, drawing her hands away from him abruptly. He almost instinctively raised his hips to find her again. “Do you…want to? Stop?” She looked down at him with a knowing smile. He sighed, aware that she seemed to be referring to her hands on his body. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about that. It definitely crossed a professional boundary, but her attitude seemed more flirtatious than hungry and sexual. In this position, with her hands lightly touching him there, he couldn’t really think rationally. He really wanted her touch to continue. It was so soft and nice. He closed his eyes to concentrate, but this kept him from being able to see her eyes. Her eyes were pretty; he’d never really noticed before. “I couldn’t hear you.” She spoke softly. He cleared his throat. His penis throbbed, bobbing in the air. He could imagine how ridiculous it looked, but it was begging for her touch. “I’d really like to stop wearing a diaper. You know, go back to using the bathroom.” “Mmm…because you don’t like it?” She laughed, not unkindly. “I can see that you really don’t enjoy it.” He opened his eyes briefly to see that she was smiling playfully at him. “You…seem to have become more comfortable with the situation.” She reached out and touched him again gently, making him gasp. “It’s just that I don’t think it’s professional for a doctor to wear a diaper, and—“ She grasped his penis firmly, and interrupted him. “We’ve been through this. No one can tell you are wearing a diaper, and we both decided that it is far more professional to be on-time and efficient than to be spending endless time in the bathroom, inconveniencing patients, staff, and me. This is truly a perfect solution. You’ve kept your patients waiting much less, and they are appreciative. They’ve told me so.” He couldn’t really look into her eyes and concentrate at the same time. She relaxed her grip on his penis, allowing her hand to slip gently up and down its shaft. He started breathing harder, and could hear her cooing, “You are thriving, much more efficient than you were before. And we are an awesome team. Working together, you’ve finished earlier and had more free time, AND kept patients and staff happier.” She stopped stroking, again holding his penis firmly, drawing his gaze to her face. “This arrangement WORKS, and you know it. The way we are working, you could even see an additional 2 or 3 patients per day, which would be pure profit, if I understand how it works. It seems like this”—and here she tugged on the wet diaper still tucked under his bottom—“is a small price to pay to work so well.” He swallowed. She could see his will wavering. Almost there… She moved in for the kill. She started stroking his lower belly, just above his neatly shaved pubic hair. “Do you think we are working well together?” He nodded, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t hear your manners,” she corrected gently. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured grudgingly. “Have we finished earlier these two days?” He paused just a moment before admitting, “Yes, ma’am.” She looked down briefly at his stiff penis, bobbing in the air near her hand. “Do you think I have handled this…potentially embarrassing…situation professionally?” He knew that she had had plenty of opportunities to embarrass him, but had not. “Yes, ma’am.” Except for this…wonderful…touching… “So at this point, do you think I have earned your trust?” Here she stopped touching him, and waited for him to look at her. “Yes, ma’am.” He certainly couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t understand her very well, but he had started to trust her. She smiled at him kindly as she took him in her hand again, stroking slowly. “Then my opinion is that we shouldn’t try to fix something that isn’t broken. I know it was jarring to try something new, but it is clearly working really well for us. So this time let’s commit to continuing for another week. It will give us more time to decide that these two days have not been a fluke. But I don’t think it IS a fluke. I’m so confident that I’ll promise to quit this business if you don’t also think our teamwork is flourishing after another week. That sounds reasonable, right?” Numbly, he nodded and saw her eyebrows rise briefly before quickly saying, “Yes, ma’am.” Her voice was mesmerizing, her touch transformative. Truthfully, of course, he might have said anything to make her happy when her hands were so close to him. But there was also a deeper part of him, which he was only vaguely aware of, that felt more content and cared-for over the last few days than he had in a long time. He sighed, embarrassed by this strange arrangement, but not completely unhappy with it. She was nodding and smiling. She patted his penis gently, and said, “Then let’s put that away for now.” She wrinkled her eyebrows, noting that it might be difficult to tuck him in. She wiped his bottom, shook a little more powder on him, then pressed his penis up to his belly and pulled his boxers up over it. “That will have to do for now, I suppose. Those things can be so troublesome,” she murmured to herself, though she was also thinking how easy “those things” made getting what she wanted. “Ok, sit up!” His face flushed, breathing a little heavily, he paused a second, then nodded and sat up. That was an abrupt and unwelcome end to what he had presumed would be a bit more climactic. But Julie was all business again, so while he briefly considered protesting, he suspected it wouldn’t make a difference, and could wind up making him seem pathetic. Instead, he should be professional. He took a deep breath and stood up. He stared down and noticed that his boxers tented out in front of him. She glanced over at him, smiling a bit at his predicament, then went to the sink to wash her hands. He leaned over quickly and pulled up his khakis, working at getting them fastened over his erection. Once he had, he looked more presentable. “Ok, well, thanks for all your work today…as usual. It was…a good day,” he said awkwardly, trying to regain his dignity. He started gathering up his things, putting away his laptop and mouse. She went to her purse. She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it was,” she said, glancing up at him. “It certainly was. Thank you for being so considerate to me. I can’t tell you how much it means to be done so early and able to see my little ones.” He walked her out, grateful that he was finally dressed normally and talking to her like he might any other staff member. This felt like a more appropriate work situation, surely, than being diapered or naked in her presence. It was a relief. As they walked the short distance to their cars, which were parked at the far end of the practice’s parking lot, Julie said, “My mother takes care of the kids during the day. But she must also see to my dad as well, so I like to relieve her as soon as I can. After a day with the kids, she’ll be happy to see me so early!” She reached her car and paused for a moment. She suddenly leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “You’re our hero, you know!” He nodded, surprised. “Well, I’m glad it worked out so well.” He realized he was blushing as he unlocked his car. He was flattered and touched, but didn’t know what else to say. “See you tomorrow?” She smiled. “You bet. Thanks again for being so thoughtful. I think we make a great team! Have a nice evening.” She got into her car, and thought more about how this relationship was going. He seemed more and more receptive to her being in charge. That opened up all sorts of possibilities. Julie liked being in charge. She had been drawn to dominance in her relationships from a young age. Controlling the supposedly stronger gender had always held appeal, and she had enjoyed this challenge while dating during nursing school. She grew used to exercising her bossy skills to get what she wanted–and needed. Oddly to her, one boy even seemed attracted to being humiliated, and she learned she didn’t mind giving him what he wanted. She learned that she had a talent for sensing tentativeness, and her comfort with confrontation seemed to put her in the driver’s seat more often than she would have expected. Her only lapse, ironically, had been her marriage, and it had only reinforced her need to control her relationships. Confused by societal expectations, she had married a man who had projected strength and confidence. She had assumed he was the kind of meat-and-potatoes man that women should marry, and had assumed she could change what she didn’t like. But he was emotionally distant. She was used to being able to lead her partners, either overtly or through more subtle manipulation. But he seemed immune for some reason. He just didn’t care. She had two children in rapid succession, and held out hope that this would draw him into their relationship, or that he would grow up. But he actually became more distant after their second son, and she decided she would rather raise her kids alone than remain married in name only. He was surprised, but later seemed relieved, when she kicked him out of their 2-bedroom apartment without asking for more than the lease in return. She hadn’t seen him since. And while it was jarring to find she had so misjudged that relationship, it taught her a lot about what was right for her. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. If she ever married again, she’d need to be in charge from the beginning. She pulled out her phone. As he got into his own car, he could distantly hear her conversation. “Yes, Mom. I’m on my way. I know! It was a good day! See you soon…” As he drove, he thought about the day. And about Julie. She was lovely and nice. Her hands were strong and confident, but felt very gentle and loving. That was going to be hard to forget. He could feel himself getting hard all over again, and he reached down to adjust himself. She was such an alluring mix of sexy and smart, but her insistence on his wearing a diaper was just weird. Wasn’t it? He thought so, but she could make it sound almost normal. The way she talked to him, it would have felt rude if to have refused. And there was a part of him that wanted to make her happy. Her smile was so pretty, and she seemed to be so happy over the last day or two. It was a little weird, but he was almost willing to do anything to see her smile. He squirmed, ready to be home and attend to himself. He thought he knew whose face he was going to be imagining tonight. Chapter 9 Despite how silly he inevitably felt allowing her to diaper him over the next week, he couldn’t deny that work was more fun. He had never felt more in sync with a nurse. She seemed to anticipate every need he had, both professionally and personally. She knew when a patient would need a test, and often had the details settled by the time he came out of a room. He was amazed at how in tune she had quickly become with his bladder habits. He tried to relieve himself out of her sight during his little “down” moments, but he often would glance around afterward, his diaper feeling newly warm, and would see her watching him pleasantly. Then she would busy herself with her work, making no move to change him until they had a break together. He started to relax and trust her judgment about that. His diaper had not leaked into his pants even once. She seemed to have a knack for timing his diaper changes. It was true that she was also the one setting out his water for him. Some days, he noticed, he was offered water more often than others. As he was zipping up his pants after a change one day, he asked her why. “Are you…still, um, keeping some sort of eye on my…hydration?” She smiled a little as she rolled up and taped the warm wet diaper he had been wearing. “Your wet diapers actually tell me a lot. I still keep a close eye on the color, judging just how wet they are and how yellow they look.” She tossed the diaper into the diaper disposal bin she had recently brought into the office for this purpose, she commented, “I want to keep my doctor healthy, you know.” She fondly patted him on his padded behind. He blushed, thinking about how she knew personal things about him that he had not even been aware of. Should he be creeped out by this invasion of privacy? He didn’t feel that way. He realized he felt a little touched, and even reassured by this gentle supervision. She was looking out for him. It had been quite a while since someone had been on his side, helping him. It felt warm and nice, he thought. As he thought about it, he realized that it felt maternal. Julie had assumed that type of role quite naturally. The nice thing was that she didn’t make him feel inferior or less like a man about surrendering that control. She didn’t make fun of him for wearing a diaper, or letting her clean him. She was just very direct and honest. Once he had adjusted to it, he could almost imagine it was normal. It was kind of nice sharing his day so intimately with someone, and not having to worry about mundane things like keeping hydrated or clean. She was a blessing. Like a mother, however, she did occasionally nag him. Nothing he didn’t deserve, though, he admitted to himself. There had been days he hadn’t shaved himself, and of course she noticed. She spent more time looking at his private area than he did, after all. “What is this?” she might ask as she brushed his stubble with a cocked eyebrow. “This isn’t the clean-shaven boy I know,” or “I like you so much better when you’re smooth,” or “Somebody hasn’t been doing his homework.” She was gentle, but firm. She was nice, but insistent. He knew where he stood, and accepted that shaving was important to her. He found himself wanting to feel nice under her hands. He liked the brief smile she had when she touched his smooth, shaven skin. And wouldn’t she usually spend just a few extra seconds touching him? It seemed so, and that was worth the effort. He wasn’t exactly getting used to that one finger she used when she cleaned him, though. It always found its way into his bottom. She did it every single time she changed him. It no longer surprised him, of course, but still didn’t feel natural or comfortable. He had started being more careful wiping himself in the bathroom, but her actions seemed to indicate that she wasn’t quite satisfied with him. Well, he wasn’t really sure what to do about that. He even googled, “how to wipe properly” to make sure he wasn’t supposed to stick the toilet paper inside, but nobody seemed to recommend that. So there didn’t seem to be anything else he could do to convince her he was doing an adequate job. And he decided that at this point, he didn’t want to have another conversation about it. Talks with her were so embarrassing! So even if he didn’t like it, he didn’t complain again. When she asked him to lift his legs, he would start to tense up, squeezing his anus closed in protest. But it didn’t matter. Her finger, wrapped with a cold wet wipe, still found its way inside him. It didn’t linger, just in and out. But he felt embarrassed to be invaded there. He never really wanted to look her in the eyes for a few minutes afterward. Julie seemed to sense this, however, and often tried to engage him either during the process or immediately afterward, calling him on his reticence if he didn’t answer right away. She seemed to be trying to get him past his embarrassment, though he wasn’t sure why she cared. He wished she would just leave his bottom alone. He’d mostly gotten past peeing in his diaper in front of her, but…there were some things that were just too private. But usually, her hands felt great. During the day, she was generally all business. She changed and cleaned him faster than he could pee and wash his hands on his own in the old days. At the end of the day, though, often amid conversation, her hands would slow down, gently caressing him with a wipe. These cleanings would last long enough that the wipe would warm up and feel so, so good. Her hands would linger everywhere, from his shaved pubic area, to his testicles, to the cleft between his cheek, and to the area right around his bottom. And once he realized that this last change was more of a leisurely and pleasurable event, he began to look forward to it. When she untaped him as he lay back on the table, his erection would spring forth, usually drawing a knowing smile from her. And she didn’t neglect his penis, either. She made sure to clean it carefully and thoroughly, deliberately stroking him. He stopped trying to hide his excitement—how could he? And she seemed to enjoy pleasuring him almost as much as he did. But she never brought him all the way to orgasm. He was not sure why, but she clearly had no interest in going that far. She would start stroking him faster and faster, gripping more firmly, until his breathing began to get more ragged and fast. But whenever he thought that today might be the day, she would stop or pause, leaving him waiting and hoping. After a moment, she might turn and dispose of the wet diaper she had removed, or she might return to stroking him. She kept him guessing. He never voiced any discontent, though. He didn’t want her to feel like he was ungrateful for what she did, or to change their intimate relationship. He thought he understood that she was trying to make this situation more enjoyable to him. He had never had any prior experience with tease and denial in a relationship. But he sensed that Julie was in control, and that it wasn’t up to him what happened. He had learned to relax and enjoy it. He puzzled over the rules that seemed to guide her behavior, though. Why did she think it was okay to caress him, but not bring him fully to orgasm? He guessed it was more professional not to cross that line. This is how he rationalized this end-of-day activity, and defended her denial of him in his mind. He would go home every single day denied and hungry, but didn’t stay that way for long. He found himself thinking about it all day in anticipation. During the day, his diaper and lack of private time kept him from touching himself. But he had no such limitations at night. He rushed home daily to relieve himself, and sometimes would pleasure himself multiple times each evening. He would see her face and imagine her hands on him whenever he masturbated, and fantasized about the two of them together. Oddly, it wasn’t only regular sex he imagined. Though he had never been turned on by leather and whips, he started imagining Julie telling him what to do in the bedroom. She seemed like she would know just what she liked, and how he could pleasure her. She took care of him during the day. He would like to take care of her in return. Despite the direction their work and personal relationship had taken, he wasn’t certain he wanted to push it further down that road. He knew all about sexual harassment, and respected her far too much to chance making her uncomfortable. He’d love to ask her out. But what if he broke what they had? It would be risky. Maybe it was better to be satisfied with their wonderful, strange intimacy just the way it was. And anyway, she seemed to have no problem asking for something if she wanted it. Surely she would tell him? When the next week had ended, he didn’t even consider asking to stop using diapers. She surely noticed, but also didn’t bring it up. They had settled into a very workable—and very enjoyable—relationship. The price for their flirty teamwork—wearing diapers—was high, but it worked! Julie continued to be amazed at how smoothly things were going. He hadn’t even brought up the subject of the diapers at the end of the next week. He seemed to be growing more comfortable in his submissive and infantile role. He accepted her rules and supervision, kept himself closely shaved, and didn’t even complain when she popped her finger in his anus, which she was careful to do every single time she could. That would come in handy sometime soon. Sure, her teasing sessions were undoubtedly helping the process along, but what was new? She had learned that men could be influenced via their genitalia. It was too easy not to do it. Men were just built to be manipulated. It wasn’t their fault. Her job was to use her powers for good. She had always tried to help them do what was needed, and she had a responsibility not to take advantage of their simplicity and hurt them. This particular man was a good man. He was so vulnerable and naïve that she had to take care. So far, she thought she was doing well. Sure, she was taking advantage of male weakness and his need for intimacy. She was inducing dependence and submission, but it was for a good cause. Of course she wasn’t going to let him come. It reinforced her dominance, loving though it was. It let him know that his pleasure was not the main goal. It kept him on the edge, stoking his sexual appetite. It introduced the idea that sometimes he might not get to come, and that she was in control of that. But mostly, it let him know that she wasn’t “easy” or there for his satisfaction. If he wanted more, he’d have to ask (or beg, she thought hungrily). He had been uncertain about their “arrangement” at the beginning, but he wasn’t complaining now. She’d been delighted the very first day she teased him and left him hanging. He had sighed, and she thought he might whine. But instead, he seemed to accept her gift to him for what it was. She knew then that she could develop his submissive nature, even if he wasn’t aware of it yet. He could be perfect for her. Time to raise the stakes. Chapter 10 Two and a half weeks after having Julie first ask him to pull down his pants, his eyes were closed and he was enjoying her end-of-day ministrations. He was really starting to like this, and, maybe, like her, as something more than a coworker. Suddenly, she stopped stroking him and held his penis tightly. His eyes opened, as he sensed she wanted his attention. “I had a patient today who recently had a colonoscopy, and she said the GI doctor mentioned how important it is to take fiber every day. She said everyone should take extra fiber. It can cut down on heart disease and diverticulitis, and maybe even prevent colon cancer. Is that true?” Hoping that a quick easy answer would encourage her to get back to their usual late-afternoon activity, he nodded. “Uh, sure. Important for everyone.” She seemed concerned. “Hmm, I don’t take any extra fiber. Do you?” She started slowly stroking him, and he closed his eyes again. “Hmm, no.” …And then she stopped. His eyes popped open. He found that she was looking at him, as if considering something. “Sounds like both of us could use some fiber. It comes in supplements, right? I’m up for it if you are.” She smiled at him and started stroking again, just lightly, with her fingertips. He knew she was teasing him, maybe even manipulating him in some unimportant way, but he decidedly did not care at this moment. His eyelids closed again. “Sure, sure. Good idea.” Though he couldn’t see it, her smile broadened. “Great, great. I’ll feel much better if we’re taking care of ourselves. I’ll bring in some supplements tomorrow.” She gave him a few more slow, gentle strokes, then off-handedly asked, “Somehow I’m guessing that you tend more toward being constipated?” She saw his eyebrows furrow a little, but he kept his eyes closed. “Um, well…”, he started, but didn’t elaborate. She realized she’d need to help him focus. When her hand stopped again, he realized she’d asked him a question. But he wasn’t really paying attention to her words, so he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Oh, um…What was the question again?” He was very aware that her hand was still on him, now with a tight grasp, but not moving. “Well, you’ve been in a diaper for more than two weeks, and you’ve never asked me about what would happen if you need to poop. So I’m guessing you don’t poop very often?” Whoa. If there was anything he didn’t want to talk about with Julie, it was his bowel habits! He had started to fantasize about her all the time, and she was touching him right now. How could he steer her away from the topic? If he had learned anything about Julie, it was that she wasn’t easily deterred. He’d have to say something if he wanted to move on. “Well, it varies, but I don’t think it’s, like, abnormal.” He was relieved when he felt her hand start to move again. But his heart sank a little when he realized she wasn’t moving on. “Well, that’s good…So when was the last time you pooped?” He sighed in exasperation. “Do we really have to talk about that? It’s kind of personal.” She snorted, though her hand still moved. “I’ve been changing your diaper for two weeks, and I’m touching you in an extremely intimate way right now. Are there really things that are off limits?” She smiled expectantly, raising her eyebrows. His face reddened a little. He didn’t want this to stop, awkward as it was. So he nodded slightly, saying, “Good point. I just don’t really like talking about…that.” She smiled fondly at him, exquisitely enjoying his embarrassment. “Why are you embarrassed about how often you poop?” He shook his head. Nothing he could do would shake this woman. “I just don’t like talking about that stuff.” “Stuff like your pooping habits?” He groaned. “Yes. Like that.” She giggled and gripped him a little tighter, but slowed her stroke down. Part of her goal here was to embarrass him, which, it pleased her to discover, turned her on, but part was to get him to associate being embarrassed with being excited, and to associate her with that embarrassment, and with control. And it was even better to be talking about bathroom habits, over which she was soon to be in complete control. The more confusion he felt about whether he was embarrassed or excited, the easier it would be to manipulate him, both toward her intermediate and her ultimate goals. “Well, I’m not sure why you are embarrassed. You are a health professional, and you talk to patients all the time about their own pooping and peeing.” She looked innocently at him. “It looks like you don’t like it when the tables are turned?” She kept stroking him steadily but very slowly, shaking her head. “Well, too bad. You know it is important. Someone needs to keep you honest.” She suddenly stopped stroking him. “So? When was the last time you pooped?” He sighed, realizing that she wouldn’t stop until he gave her an answer. Blushing, he said, “I guess it was probably on Monday.” She frowned, but started lightly touching—almost tickling—his testicles. “That’s been three days. Is that about average for you?” He nodded slightly. “Yeah, probably.” “But I’ve heard you tell patients that they should take enough fiber so that they poop every day. Are you ignoring your own advice?” He squirmed a little on the table. In response, her grip tightened, seemingly intending to pin him down on this point. “I guess, maybe,” he admitted. “A little.” Her grip relaxed slightly, and he felt her hand move up and down his shaft again. That was nice. He must have said something she liked. He resolved to do more of that if he could. “Well, I can help with that, if you’d like. Would you like that?” she purred softly. All he could think about was her soft, soft hand. “Sure, whatev—I mean, Yes, ma’am. You bet.” She nodded. “I’ve got to keep my doctor happy and healthy, don’t I?” His eyes closing, he murmured, “Happy. So happy….” She smiled down at him. She sure loved compliant men. “So tomorrow we’ll start some fiber supplements, won’t we? And we’ll just keep track of your poops so we know how we’re doing, okay?” He nodded, then, realizing she liked to be answered out loud, said, “Yes, ma’am.” Unknown to him, her smile broadened, and she shook her head. She knew she could get his bowel habits under her thumb, but hadn’t really thought it would be quite that easy. Men really were simple creatures. Her job done today, she efficiently brought him just to the edge of an orgasm, and then cleaned him up. His eyes slowly came open, then focused. He seemed a little disappointed, but—like before—didn’t complain. She left him naked on the table for a moment. “Did you want…me to put another diaper on you to go home?” His brow furrowed as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Well, no, of course not.” He sat up and swung his legs around. ”Why would I?” As she washed her hands, she shrugged. “No reason. It’s just that, by now, you know they have their practical purpose. I realized I’d never asked if you wanted to wear one home for convenience.” He considered for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. No need for that, of course. That…would be weird.” She smiled at him. “Either way. I’m going out to pick up some fiber supplements. Are there any you specifically recommend or prefer?” He was buckling his pants. “Not really. I think pills are generally easier. Never tried any.” As she grabbed her purse, she said, “Well, then, I guess we’ll experiment a little.” Chapter 11 The next morning when he walked into the work room, he noticed a new whiteboard on the cabinet, completely blank except for lines and dates hand-drawn to make a calendar. On the counter were a little box of magnets, and an industrial size bottle that he realized was full of fiber laxative caps. Next to his water bottle, already filled for him, was a little cup with 2 capsules in it. Oh, boy, she was serious. As he set his bag down, he noticed her watching him. He nodded at the medicine cup. “I’m assuming those are for me?” She smiled. “You bet! The bottle says to take 2-4 daily, or however many are needed. I figured we’d start with two daily, and just increase the amount until you are pooping daily. And…”, and here she jumped up excitedly and walked over to the calendar. “…this is the poop chart I made for you! Do you like it?” He reddened. “Chart?” She nodded. “Poop chart, that’s right. When you make a poop the night before, or before you come in in the morning, you can put a smiley face magnet on the day. Or more than one if you’ve been really busy. If you haven’t made a poop since we saw each other, you should put a frowny face.” She held out the box of stickers to him. “Go ahead, try it out!” He stood there staring at the magnets, and then looked up at her, pained. “Seriously?” She looked a little hurt, then resolute. “Yes, seriously. I bought the magnets, and made the chart, so that you wouldn’t have to talk about your pooping every day. I was being sensitive to your weird shyness about your bathroom habits. I thought this would be easier. Would you rather I asked you each morning?” she inquired, her eyebrows raised. “No, no,” he said hurriedly. “I guess the magnets are better than having to talk about…that. Thanks for being so considerate.” She stood there with the box, patiently. Eventually he got the clue. “Oh! Right,” he mumbled. “Well, um…” He found a red sad face magnet and picked it out. He put it over yesterday’s date. “How’s that?” She put the box down. “Well, it’s a fine job with the magnet, if that’s what you’re asking. Your kindergarten teacher would be proud,” she said, patting him on the head comically. “But not so great for your pooping. We’ll see how you do on 2 of these daily, and increase it until we see a lot more happy faces on that chart! Make sure you keep track of your poops! Be sure you mark them on the calendar, because otherwise you might get too much fiber!” She patted him on the bottom, and turned toward their diaper cabinet. “Speaking of which, let’s get you ready for the day!” Something about that comment made him a little uncomfortable, but she ushered him onto the exam table and had him diapered before he could think about what it was. The day was fairly typical for them, busy and efficient. His wet diapers were changed, and not another word was uttered about fiber or pooping for the rest of the day. Within a few days, and after she increased his fiber once, he was able to add a happy-faced magnet to the chart, and was rewarded with a big smile from Julie. He grimaced, eager to avoid the subject. “I know, I know. You don’t want to talk about it. But if you get a few more of those in a row, we won’t need to increase the dose.” She patted him on his diapered bottom as he headed off to see patients. As they were getting ready to go home that day, after his final diaper change, he finally was able to verbalize what had been bugging him. “Julie, can I ask you a question?” he said as they were gathering up their things after the other staff had gone home. “What if…if the fiber works TOO well? You know, here at work?” She blinked at him. “What do you mean?” He blushed. “Well, you know, I’m all for regular bowel movements in theory, but what if we’re here, and I’m, you know, wearing a diaper…” He looked at her meaningfully, but was met with silence. “And…” she prompted, appearing not to understand. Damn it, he thought. She was going to make him say it out loud. “And I need to…” He realized she would not want him to use a medical term. “…poop, here at work. I just want to make sure we’re both…clear…on the fact that there is NO way I’m going to do…that…in my diaper. I’ll just go to the bathroom in that case. I just don’t want you to be surprised or upset when I do. Maybe we could make it so I could tell you once I’m back that that’s why I went, or something.” His cheeks burned. This was ridiculous to talk about. Julie shook her head. “Sorry, no. Out of the question.” He stared at her. “Um…what is?” She stared. “You, using the potty. That’s not going to happen.” He stared back, unsure he had heard her correctly. Maybe she had misunderstood. “No, I mean, in case I should need to…you know…poop.” She appeared to relent, approaching him and laying her hand on his arm. “Sweetie, I heard what you said. I just meant that you aren’t going to be allowed to use the potty at all, even if you have to poop.” As she saw his face darken, she stroked his forearm to comfort him. “It took you five minutes to pee before diapers. Imagine how long it takes you to poop in there. I have waited on you, so I know. If it makes sense for you to use a diaper for peeing, it makes far more sense to wear it for pooping.” He was clearly not convinced, so she continued, “And then there would be the business of you trying to undo your diaper, then trying to refasten it correctly in the potty. That could be dangerous for leaks later.” Her lips pressed together, she shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry. I know you want to use the potty like a big boy when you poop, but I just cannot let that happen. It would be a disaster.” She picked up her purse, as if the conversation were over. But he couldn’t leave it there. He couldn’t let this stand as an agreement. She didn’t seem to understand what using a diaper that way would entail. “But…but…no, wait. But you don’t really want that, right? I mean, changing a wet diaper is one thing, but this would be…different. Gross, and horrible. I—I mean, right? Why would you want to do that?” He thought of something. “Maybe I could do it?” he asked hopefully. That would at least not be so humiliating. “Don’t be silly,” she said, turning to leave. “I’ve told you: I have nursing training, and mommy training. I know what it is like to change a poopy diaper, and I’m prepared to do it if it needs to be done.” Why was she so casual about all this? It made no sense. “But—but—the smell. People would know. I can’t—“ He was close to tears. Seeing this, she stopped. She saw that he couldn’t meet her gaze. She reached up and gently raised his chin so that their eyes met. She squeezed his hands firmly. “If it happens, we’ll manage. I’ll take care of it without anyone knowing, just like we do with your wet diapers. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.” She watched his face, seeing the uncertainty. She spoke again, and reached a hand up to one cheek. “Here’s how it would work. You are a big enough boy to tell when it will happen. If you feel like you need to poop, you just come and get me. You don’t have to wait until after it happens. You can interrupt me, and come back to this room. You can poop in here, and then we can change you immediately.” She released his chin, and he looked down. He swallowed. “Maybe we could also stop the fiber. It seems like—“ She cut him off. “Oh, no. We’re not compromising your health just because of your embarrassment.” She snorted softly and smiled. “That would be a bad precedent to set. And anyway, we’ve been doing that for a few days, and nothing bad has happened. I’m not giving you fiber to make you poop at work. I’m not bothered by messy diapers, but I don’t need more of them. You can keep doing that at home.” He was clearly not happy, but nodded and was quiet. She knew he’d be okay with it, just as he had agreed to wetting his diapers. He just needed time. But she needed to be careful with how she handled the next week or two, as he would be fragile emotionally. He was surprised when she drew him into a tight hug. She held him for a full minute. Initially shocked, he realized it felt really good. He felt her reassurance, realized that he needed it, and hugged her back. In fact, it was hard for him not to cry. She was so nice, wasn’t she? She also smelled good. Nice and familiar. She felt him return her hug, and heard him sigh. Holy cow, that was sweet. That kind of emotional connection was definitely one of the major highs she got from mothering. And so soon! She finally released him. “Look, if you poop at work, we’ll get through it. No big deal. Then we’ll go back to kicking some medical ass.” She smiled, and turned to leave. He picked up his bag, and headed out. He couldn’t remember feeling so close to someone. Could he trust her that much? It was scary. But she felt like someone who really could take care of him. Chapter 12 Two weeks later, his calendar was nearly solid happy faces. He was taking 3 fiber caps daily, and he found it fairly easy to have at least a small bowel movement daily. He had not had any work-place disasters, which is how he still felt about the prospect of moving his bowels at work, despite Julie’s reassurances. But it hadn’t even come up. He was feeling less worried now, and didn’t mind the fiber if it made Julie happy. Julie had also noticed his comfort level. They hadn’t changed his dose for a week, so she felt it was safe to make her move. If he had to poop at work, he wouldn’t specifically blame the fiber. It was a Wednesday, which meant a lighter patient load. They’d have some extra time, and they would need it. After lunch, he climbed onto the changing table for her to change his wet diaper. They chatted about the upcoming afternoon, and she marveled how natural a diaper change was for him now. She treasured this intimacy, learned as a mother and miraculously replicated in her workplace. She was about to deepen that relationship. He lifted his legs for her to clean him, and she cleaned him as usual. However, this afternoon, when she poked her finger inside of his bottom, she also deftly popped in a small suppository. She smiled as he kept talking straight through the procedure, completely unaware of her secret gift. She quickly diapered him again, allowing him to sit up and pull up his pants. She watched him closely, but he clearly had not noticed. From the very beginning, she had prepared him for this day, desensitizing him to anal penetration, and she was elated at how easy it was to deceive him. As she watched him settle to finish a few computer tasks before seeing their first patient, she was tempted to feel a little sorry for him for what lay ahead for him this afternoon. She regretted not being able to be honest, but sometimes men—especially her man—needed a little push. This was necessary to take their relationship to the next level. He was seeing his second patient of the afternoon when he became aware of some pressure in his bowels. He suppressed any concern he felt about this development, thinking it was likely to be gas, or perhaps something that he could wait through. But within ten minutes he was forced to admit that this feeling might be more insistent than he had expected. This was very unusual. His bathroom habits were typically subject to whenever he had time for them, and never urgent. But he felt…full, and was starting to get some cramping. He finished up with his patient, and debated whether he should see his next patient, whom Julie had already brought back and put in a room for him. He didn’t like the distraction that his discomfort was causing, but this was outweighed by the horrible embarrassment that he would suffer if he admitted to Julie that he had to move his bowels. He had no doubts about her desire to make him go in his diaper. Despite her assurances that she didn’t mind changing him, he had to doubt this. No one could enjoy changing a messy diaper. He had admitted to himself that he had a big crush on her. He couldn’t bear to have her see him with a dirty diaper. How did he ever stand a chance of dating her if he let her change a messy diaper? He decided that he would trust his ability to control himself rather than give in to the mounting need to poop. This next visit seemed interminable, however, both because of the increasing intensity of the pressure and also because of the nature of the discussion, which ironically concerned a young woman’s problem with frequent diarrhea. While he had quickly determined her problem to be irritable bowel syndrome, her description of her bathroom habits was not helping to distract him from his own needs. He found himself wondering if Julie would forgive him if he dashed to the bathroom just this once. She might not ever know, after all, if he was quick and managed to tape the diaper back the way it was. He had admittedly never tried, but how hard could it be? He started sweating, trying not to have an accident as he stood up to examine his patient. It took all of his concentration, and he found it difficult to string coherent sentences together as they discussed the plan for this young woman. As he rose to escort her to the exam room door, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out any longer. He was going to need to poop in the next few seconds. He decided that he didn’t want to face Julie in this condition—it wasn’t manly or attractive or professional. She would have to wait to change a messy diaper. Feeling desperate and ready to run to the bathroom, he opened the door to the hallway. The patient left the room, and he followed. Almost free! Turning left out of the exam room, toward the bathroom, he literally ran right into Julie, who was standing just outside the door. It almost looked like she had been waiting for him, though she could have just been passing by. But she now stood between him and the bathroom, and he let out a little moan at the sight of her. He quickly stepped to the side, hoping she would pass. He might still get to the bathroom if she kept going and he pretended he needed something in the other direction. But she didn’t pass. She took a step to the side also, blocking his path again. She raised her eyebrows, locked his eyes with hers, and imperceptibly shook her head. She pointed behind him to their work room. When he stood still, panicked, wondering if she could possibly know how much distress he was in, she gently took his elbow and turned him toward her desired destination. No! He couldn’t let her do this. He was about to have a major BM, and it might even be diarrhea. He couldn’t let her witness that. He tried to turn back, but she gave him a firm maternal glance that somehow told him she knew exactly what he was trying to do and that he shouldn’t even think about it. Instead, she nudged him toward the room. He needed to plead with her, but couldn’t do it in the hallway. He quickly strode toward their work room, hoping he could hold for another minute. He reached the room and turned around. Julie was following, but appeared to be taking her time. Suddenly a cramp hit him, and he doubled over. He was able to control himself, but realized it would probably be obvious to Julie what was happening. She reached the room and closed the door behind her as he started to straighten up. He saw her pause to lock the door as well, and again felt the panic rise in him. “Julie, please. PLEASE let me go to the bathroom. Just this once,” he panted, holding his stomach. “Don’t be silly. If you need to poop, then do it. We have a few minutes before the next patient, but not long. It would be best to get this over with now.” He gasped. “But—you don’t understand—this is bad. It—it is bad!” She shook her head in consternation. “Then why are you holding it in? There is no need to be so miserable or dramatic.” He was almost to the point of despair. He had iron intestines, but even he had his limits. “No…” She almost smiled. What he didn’t know, and couldn’t know, since he was unaware of the suppository, was that every moment he delayed meant that the effect of the glycerin would be greater and more volcanic. The only thing that would have defeated her plan was if he had immediately expelled the suppository before it could irritate the intestinal membranes. However, because his most fervent wish was not to let anything out of his anus, he was making it much, much worse. His embarrassment was the key to making this plan so effective. But she didn’t smile. She delivered the next line, long practiced and considered, with what appeared to be the utmost concern for his comfort. “I wonder if a lot of that cramping you’re having is from gas. Maybe you could just try to let some of the gas out and feel more comfortable.” She could have cried at the naïve glimmer of hope she saw spark in his eyes at that moment. God bless him, he believed her. Only a man without much experience with diarrhea could have thought this feat possible. Without saying a word, he moved a little away from her and looked away. What happened next would be burned into both of their memories forever. She saw a passing look of concentration, then the emergence of horror on his face. He choked off a short cry, squatted, and let loose a large amount of soft stool into his diaper. It went on and on, and she just stood quietly near the door, watching. He was, of course, consumed with the process, and had given himself over to the full completion of the task. The room quieted, but slowly became filled with the smell of his act. After a moment, his breathing seemed to become regular again, and she gently crossed the room to him. She touched his shoulder, and asked, “Do you think you’re done? Or is there some more poop in there?” He couldn’t answer, or even look at her. She moved so that she was in his line of sight. “Are you done?” Once his eyes refocused on her, he nodded numbly. She smiled. “Then let’s get you into a nice clean diaper. Come over to your changing table.” She grasped his hand and led him toward the table. He waddled gingerly, slowly, and she could see him trying not to let the contents of the diaper touch his skin. Of course, this was futile, but she understood the need to try. His expression soured as he felt the effects of the suppository coat the skin under his diaper. When he had reached the table, she said, “Ok. Pants down, hop up!” Then she caught herself, and said, “Well, maybe not hop.” He positioned himself to ease himself up onto the table, then stopped. “Would you please let me do this myself? It’s…disgusting.” “Nonsense. Pooping is just a natural part of living. Now get up there so we can get you cleaned up. This is advanced diaper-changing and you would be…outmatched. I can do this far faster than you.” And she really didn’t mind. Babysitting jobs throughout high school–not to mention family members in diapers–had kept her changing diapers much of the time. During and after nursing school, she became comfortable with the medical side of caring for grown men, and she had realized that young or old, men often needed her hands to be gentle at some times and firm at others. Her motherhood of young boys had only seemed to reinforce that. She wasn’t put off by the cleanup, and actually found that changing a diaper was one of the more intimate experiences she could have with a male. It was one her first experiences in being in charge. How could she not enjoy that? He sighed, and discovered that he could not really get up on the table without sitting right in the middle of his mess. As he uneasily settled himself onto the table, his expression mirrored the disgust he felt, and she noticed. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “We’ve done this a hundred times. It’s no different to me. Just lie back.” He couldn’t really respond. His mind was consumed with the horrible sensation of warm squish. He wanted to escape, but he felt caught, like a fly in a web. Not having any better options, he sighed, and gently reclined, feeling movement under him as he shifted weight. Once he was down, Julie let out her breath and put on some vinyl gloves. The hard part was over. Now she had to make it—as promised—easier than changing himself. She smiled as he reflexively let his knees fall apart, showing her the discolored diaper he wore. She untaped him, and pulled open the front of his diaper, immediately instructing him, “Up.” As he pulled his knees up, she took the diaper and efficiently wiped the bulk of his mess off of him, rolling it as she went. A few wipes later, and he was clean. She removed the dirty diaper and placed a clean one under him, powdering and taping him quickly. Within 2 minutes he was sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the table as if nothing had happened. Julie disposed of the diaper as he dressed himself. She caught him as he was trying to turn away, toward the door. She stood in his way and waited for their eyes to meet. Still ashamed and wanting the experience as far in the past as he could make it, he couldn’t escape her gaze. When he caught sight of her raised eyebrows, he intuited her meaning quickly and now felt bad that he hadn’t said what needed to be said. “Thank you,” he said softly, staring at the floor. He felt her lift his chin again, which made him feel like a little kid. But for some reason he allowed this, and once she held his gaze, heard her say, “That wasn’t so bad, and I don’t think it is gross. If it happens again, please man up and let me change you, okay?” He was silent, his emotions muddled and his mind spinning. How could she not hate what just happened? He wanted her to think of him as a man, not a baby. But she was equating being a man with letting her change his dirty diaper. He was finding it hard to come to terms with what their relationship was. Shouldn’t it be employer/employee? It seemed more like mother/child. She couldn’t really be attracted to him at this point. Not after that. Of course, he felt grateful to her for making him feel better when he had felt terrible, and for not humiliating him about it. It could have been much worse, but she had been so kind. But he was deeply infatuated with her, and wanted to spend time with her. He lusted for her and loved her hands on him. He respected her intelligence and clinical skills. He wanted to be manly around her, to take her and kiss her, but she seemed to want him to be more passive and childlike. And—if he was honest—that did feel like the more natural role for him in this relationship. She was so strong and certain. It felt right to let her be in charge. She saw the thoughts whirling through his brain, and sensed a lot of internal conflict. What could she do to help? What did he need more than anything right now? Probably acceptance. Impulsively, she drew close and put her arms around him, holding him warmly and tightly, as she had first done two weeks ago. She felt his body stiffen for a moment, then relax a bit, then she felt his arms around her, too. She smiled. Chapter 13 He was tense the next few days, unsure how Julie would act toward him, worried that he would have more diaper disasters or that he couldn’t trust his bowels. But everything with her seemed back to normal to him. Julie was nice, and, though he was sensitive to any change in how she talked to him or looked at him, their relationship didn’t seem to have changed. He relaxed a little, breathing easier when each afternoon progressed without those horrible cramps. He was reassured that his system seemed back to normal. It didn’t seem to be the fiber, he realized. He was moving his bowels daily, but mostly at home in the morning, where he could go in private, just as he wanted it. His accident must have been a fluke. These days at work were really great. He’d gotten over the weirdness of wearing a diaper, which was still bizarre, of course. He was wetting his diaper much more instinctively now. Sometimes he wasn’t even aware of it, and was surprised when Julie would surreptitiously cup his crotch and then raise her eyebrows at the heavy dampness. He was enough used to a wet diaper that he didn’t mind it much. That was bizarre too, when he thought about it. But he was kind of enjoying not focusing on when he wet. It seemed like he really ought to take advantage of the perk to wearing diapers, right? And no one but Julie knew about it. It was their secret, as far as he could tell. They worked like a team, and the work burden seemed so much lighter. He got home earlier, and was less tired when he did so. While her methods were unusual, and he could never tell anyone about their agreement, he couldn’t argue with her results. He did have a surprise outside of work that week, however. Before he left each day, when he was on the changing table for the last time, Julie would ask him, “Do you want me to put a clean diaper on you to go home in? Or do you just want to wear your underpants home?” It seemed like a weird question each and every time she asked it. While he had conceded to the infantile garb at work, there was no logic to why he would want to wear a diaper outside of work. He had asked her one evening why she would give him a choice he so obviously wouldn’t take. She shrugged and smiled, as if she were just being accommodating, as if some people might actually answer yes. He shook his head, amused. It was one thing to use a diaper for a specific, noble purpose like he was doing, he thought. It would be another simply to choose to wear one on his off time. But as he stood in line at the grocery store a few nights later, he became aware of a curious warmth in his pants. He thought he was leaning against something warm, but then he felt trickling down his leg. He looked down, startled, and realized he had wet his pants, something he hadn’t done in 30 years. He moved closer to the counter, shielding himself from view, then later held the grocery bags in front of him to preserve his dignity. He made it to the car without anyone seeing, he thought. But it drove home an important point: maybe there actually was a downside to mindlessly wetting his diaper. He had to discipline himself to control his bladder carefully, even at work, when he didn’t technically have to, or this could become a slippery slope that led to his needing to answer Julie’s nightly question differently. During the following week, things were going so well at work that he again started pondering the idea of asking Julie out. He still wasn’t sure about the wisdom of such a move, but he was becoming more infatuated by the day. There was something about the gentle efficiency of their interaction, the confidence of her work with patients and, honestly, with his needs, that made him feel like he wanted to see more of her outside of work. At work, she always had his back. He longed for that feeling outside of work as well. That afternoon, she again spent a few moments longer than needed touching him after the patients had gone. He had gotten used to the idea that it was just a nice reward for a good day’s work, and that she would never take it so far as he’d like. But maybe if they weren’t at work… As they were leaving the office, he couldn’t help himself. “Would you ever have time to grab some dinner?” She stopped suddenly, surprise on her face. He reddened when she didn’t respond right away. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I—I just meant…” He didn’t really know how to excuse his proposition. He felt her hand on his arm. “No, it’s okay,” she said warmly, smiling brilliantly at him. “I just can’t believe it took you so long. I would LOVE to have dinner with you.” He exhaled. She’d said yes! “…But I’m afraid that it might be hard to go out to a restaurant. My kids need to eat too, and I’d feel bad about asking Mom to sit for them into the evening. Maybe you could come over sometime and we could eat at my house? You could meet the little guys. I know it’s not romantic, but it is about the best I can do right now.” He nodded vigorously. He’d heard a lot about the boys, and was so thrilled to get to see her that he would have done about anything. She would check her calendar about a workable date. He drove home elated. She’d expected him to ask her out! He hadn’t misread their relationship. And somehow, for some reason, changing his diaper every single day hadn’t diminished her romantic interest in him. That seemed too amazing to believe. The next afternoon, he felt a gentle rumbling in his gut that normally meant he needed to visit the bathroom. It wasn’t urgent, like the other day, however. He plowed onward, seeing patients, feeling a fullness, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It was a very busy day, with his schedule packed. He had added some appointments into the evening to accommodate the demand. This was a bottleneck point in the day, as sometimes happened. He had a complicated patient who needed labs, some referrals, and an EKG. Julie had gotten stuck helping the patient in the room, and hadn’t been able to bring any other patients back for him. He looked for another patient to see, and, seeing none, found himself wandering back toward the other end of the building. He hadn’t specifically meant to, but realized he was outside the staff restroom. He hadn’t been here in nearly a month. As he stared at it thoughtfully, his intestines complained again. He glanced back down the hallway toward his empty workstation. Would Julie mind? Would she even know? Probably not—she was swamped. Certainly if he took care of his bodily functions on his own, especially this afternoon when they were so busy, it would help them both out. Why not? The clincher was that, looking forward to their “date”, the last thing he wanted was for Julie to have a fresh memory of changing another dirty diaper. He quickly ducked inside the bathroom and locked the door. He lowered his khakis, then fumbled with the tapes on the diaper. He carefully pulled them off, and was pleased to see that while they stretched the plastic, they hadn’t ripped it. This was going well—maybe he could do this from time to time and never have to have Julie change another dirty diaper! He rushed a bit, conscious of the need for efficiency. When he stood up again, he found that re-taping the diaper might be the hardest part. He clenched his legs together, holding the diaper roughly in place, then re-affixed the tapes in what he hoped was similar to their prior locations. He pulled up his pants, washed his hands, and rushed back down the hall. He got back in plenty of time to greet Julie as she was leaving the patient’s room, looking harried. She was focused, as always, on her work duties, and he smiled at his decision. If he was smart, he could make this work, limiting their interactions to wet diapers, and avoiding any messy ones. He was happy with himself and relieved to have avoided further humiliation, but felt hesitant about sharing that good idea with Julie. The fact that he couldn’t talk to Julie about it gnawed a little at him, but he put it out of his mind. They worked hard for the rest of the afternoon, then finished the early evening in rapid fashion. He did need a diaper change later in the afternoon, and though Julie frowned a bit as she confronted his doctored diaper, she didn’t ask any questions. As usual, their teamwork had dispatched a huge workload quickly and efficiently. However, due to the extra appointments, they were still the last two staff in the office. As they finished their tasks on the computer, Julie turned to him, and wearily said, “Okay, time to get changed for home.” She seemed a little less chipper than usual, but it had been a very long day. He obediently unbuckled and hopped up on the table as she locked the door. Despite the fact that no one else was in the office, he gratefully noticed that Julie took no chances. She had his diaper off, and his bottom wiped in a moment. She didn’t really tease him much today, but maybe she was really tired. She tossed the wet diaper and retreated to her workstation. He swung his legs off the table and leaned down to pull up his pants. She interrupted him. “Could you…leave those down for just a moment?” He stood up, a little perplexed. His shirttails covered his nakedness, but his pants and boxers were still around his ankles. Usually at this point, she was washing her hands and gathering her things to leave. Tonight, though, she was sitting at her desk, turned toward him, and wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked. She took a deep breath, then blew it out. “We need to talk.” She met his eyes. “Did you make a poop today?” He could feel his cheeks start to burn. She couldn’t possibly know. He just had to play it cool. “Not at work.” Her face fell. She looked disappointed. “Well, that’s not what two different nurses told me. They saw you go into the potty for about five minutes this afternoon. They said it seemed unusual to them, since it almost never happens these days.” She gave him a wry smile. “They don’t know anything, but they still could tell you shouldn’t have been back there.” He stood still, unaware of how ridiculous he looked with his pants down. He was trying to think how to explain his presence in the bathroom. “Well, that’s true. I did go back to the bathroom, but that was to clean my tie. It was after lunch, and I’d spilled something on it.” She frowned a little. “And there was something in the potty you specifically needed? We have sinks and mirrors in all of the exam rooms.” He paled a little, but decided to stick with this story. It was as good as he was going to get. She shook her head sadly. “I guess I could have predicted it would come to this at some point. Look, I already know you went back there to poop on the potty. I noticed that your diaper had been removed and replaced, and I figured that it happened during that nightmare of a patient we had this afternoon.” Her lips pursed. “So we have a problem.” His gaze had fallen to the floor. He’d been caught. At this point he couldn’t think of anything to say. “There are several issues I have with this…situation. One is that you went back to poop on the potty, wasting time that could have been spent on patients.” He protested, explaining that he thought he was making good use of the time. She cut him off. “No, it was wasting time. You could have asked another nurse to bring a patient back, or been working on phone calls and other tasks. You can’t replace a diaper as fast as I can. You know that.” His mouth hung open a little. He shut it self-consciously. Good points, all. “Two is that you broke your promise. We had a system worked out together, and were working as a team. You decided on your own, without discussion with me, your work partner, that you knew better, even though we had specifically talked about this exact situation.” Now he was really starting to feel guilty. They were a good team. He had learned to value that. Maybe— But she was not done. “Finally, you lied to me. You stood right there a moment ago and lied about having pooped on the potty. This is the hardest for me to take. I…felt like we were…” She broke off, apparently unable to finish. She stared at the floor for a moment. He wondered if he should say something. But then she continued. “But now I don’t know how I can trust you.” She looked up at him. It looked like there were tears in her eyes. His heart melted. He felt terrible. He looked down, searching for something to say, and noticed that his pants were still bunched up around his ankles. This was not a comfortable way to have a talk about their budding relationship. He glanced up at her and gestured to his pants. “Um…may I…?” She shook her head slightly. Her voice had regained some control. “No, not yet, if you don’t mind.” He folded his hands in front of his waist. He suddenly felt awkward in front of her. Why was she keeping him half naked in front of her? Then she cleared her throat and spoke. “What do you have to say for yourself?” He looked up at her blankly. “Um, well…” He thought for a moment. May as well be honest at this point. “You were in a room, and we were clearly backed up. I felt the need to go to the bathroom, and I thought—“ “You mean, you felt like you needed to poop. You don’t have a need to go to a bathroom any more,” she corrected helpfully. He faltered. Why did he need to talk like a child? Whatever. “Okay, yes, I needed to…”go”. And I thought there was no way that you would have time under the circumstances, and that if I took care of it, it would help us get back on track. I was trying to help.” He smiled at her hopefully. Julie didn’t look convinced. “You mean, you don’t like pooping in your diaper, and you found a good excuse to run to the potty instead.” He nodded slowly. “Well, that, too. I…well, it’s embarrassing.” “Did you think it was fair for you to decide that all by yourself?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. He paused. This was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it his business? “Look, Julie, I decide things all day. Important things. It’s part of my job.” She eyed him. “Yes, you do. But not your potty business. When it comes to your pooping and peeing, that’s my job. We decided that together. It’s part of what makes us a good team. You let me handle the things you don’t do well. Is there something about how I’ve treated you that hurt you or that you didn’t think was done well?” He was getting exasperated. “No, of course not. You…are wonderful. I love our time together. But…I don’t think that going to the bathroom in my diaper—especially that way—is masculine.” Now she looked frustrated, too. “’Going to the—oh, you think that pooping in your diaper, and letting me change you, makes you less of a man? I’ve told you that you are hung up with childhood impressions about diapers and bodily functions. It doesn’t matter to me at all. So when you say that this embarrasses you, I think that it ought to embarrass you more to have all those preconceived notions about using diapers for their intended purpose. I think you should grow up. What matters to me is being efficient, being honest, and taking good care of our patients. And you violated those things today, each and every one of them.” He stood silently, trying to absorb her words. Her weird perspective on diapers and changing him still baffled him, but he really liked her and was trying to understand. More than anything, he wanted to be able to work with her in the future, and, beyond that, to go out with her next week. All of this seemed in jeopardy right now. “Now, I will grant you that you were partially motivated to help me, and that is the only reason I am willing to look for some way past this terrible error in judgment. And I can only think of one way you could prove your commitment to me and to our team going forward. It would take great personal sacrifice, and—fittingly—would require you to let go of some childhood stereotypes.” He looked up. He had no idea what she was talking about. But if she was offering a way out of her doghouse, he was willing to take it. He was willing to do just about anything. But he was initially confused about what she proposed next. “If you really want to prove to me that you care for me, and for what we are doing here, I need to see a token of sacrifice from you.” He shook his head, trying to read the inscrutable expression on her face. But as she reached into her purse and brought out a compact but heavy-looking hairbrush, his eyes opened wide. She sat up straight, and smoothed her scrubs, then expectantly brought her eyes up to his. He stopped breathing as he realized what she was proposing. This was why she wanted him to keep his pants down. She wanted to spank him for going to the bathroom. Here, in his office. It was ridiculous. It took things too far. Yet there she sat, brush in hand. Was this real? Would she really do it? Of course she would; she’d changed his diaper a hundred times, for God’s sake. But he couldn’t let her do this—it would change their relationship, wouldn’t it? How would they work together? How could they date each other? He wanted to show his dedication to her, to work, to their patients, but not like this. “We—we—we can’t do this here,” he protested weakly, not able to verbalize anything else. “This is crazy.” Julie shook her head grimly. “No one else is here. The building is locked, and so is this door. We’re completely alone.” He looked around, a little panicked. Oh, crap. “But…I’m a…I’m your boss. It wouldn’t be right. Isn’t this, like, inappropriate?” She dipped her head and looked up at him sardonically. “Seriously? After everything else, you’re going to worry about sexual harassment? I don’t think anyone would blame you for going over my knee, or me for spanking you. What other arguments do you have on your list?” He started to sweat. “Julie, I don’t want to do this! If I let you do this, that changes us—this—our relationship. How could we work with each other again? I—how would we ever go out? How could we date each other? What kind of relationship could we have?” She laughed. “You don’t think some partners spank each other? I’ve got some websites for you, mister.” Then she became serious. “I think I understand. You’re worried that this changes our power dynamic, that I won’t be attracted to you if you give in to being punished by me?” He nodded, hands still clutched in front of himself. “But you’ve got it backward. I realize it will take tremendous strength of will and discipline for you, a fully grown man, and a doctor besides, to bend over my lap and take a spanking. It will symbolize that you trust my judgment. That you acknowledge that what you did was wrong, and that you are willing to sacrifice your dignity, not to mention putting up with a little pain,” she said with a wry smile. “If you agree to this deal, I’ll forgive you completely, because I’ll see your strength and devotion to your practice, your patients, and our agreement. I’ll see you’re sorry for your mistake, and willing to move forward with a clean slate. It takes a real man to choose this route.” He swallowed. He saw how she could offer such a thing. He could erase what he’d done if he could put up with this…deal. He met her eyes, and nodded. She was telling him that she’d forgive him, that they could still be together, go out on a date. She would still respect him. “I want…that,” he told her. She nodded briskly, and patted her lap. “Then let’s go, young man.” He stared at her lap, and considered once again whether he really wanted to take this step. He looked up at her face, which was firm, but which he’d learn to trust. She wouldn’t hurt him too bad, would she? She liked him. And how bad could a spanking hurt? He was a grown man, and she was just a woman. He shuffled forward, struggling to walk with his pants around his ankles. She pointed to the right side of her, and he moved to comply. A part of him felt like this was unreal, like it couldn’t really be happening. But there Julie was, helping him ease over her lap, telling him to hold his upper body off the floor. He felt his legs dangling helplessly in the air, then felt a cool breeze on his bottom. He assumed that was his shirttail being lifted. His suspicion was confirmed, as he felt Julie’s fingers run lightly over his bottom. He felt goosebumps form on his arms and legs. Suddenly, he felt quite vulnerable. And he remembered that it wasn’t just about embarrassment. Julie had said something about pain. He questioned his earlier assumption. Could it really hurt? He hoped it wouldn’t hurt that much. I mean, he reassured himself, it could mostly be a gesture. He was about to clarify when he heard a loud smack. A moment later he felt pain on his bottom. It wasn’t bad, and he was relieved. It hurt, but he could stand it. He heard, then felt another blow, this time to the other side. She was spanking on the lower part of his bottom, he realized and noted in some part of his brain. The spanks kept coming, and he could see how it could eventually become difficult to tolerate. So…how long would it last? The answer was, at least a few minutes, he discovered, though it was hard to tell. And then it stopped. He let out his breath. That could have been worse, he thought. It was more about the gesture. Sure, it was embarrassing, but it was tolerable. And now they could move forward and forget it. But she didn’t let him up. She shifted her weight, then shifted back. He felt something cold against his bottom, something hard and foreign, moving around, like it was soothing him. “I hope you didn’t mind that little warm-up. I have found that boys can take a longer spanking if there is a hand spanking first.” Trepidation seized him at that point. That was the warm-up? “Now let’s get down to business. I want you to count these off. Don’t lose track, or we’ll start again. We’ll stop when I think it’s time. You can be thinking about what led to this spanking, and how you’ll change in the future.” Suddenly, he heard a swat, and felt a searing pain in his backside, right where her hands had hit him before. But that was it, just one. He was sure that couldn’t be it— “I’m waiting for you to count, young man. Let’s start over.” SMACK! “One!” he spat out quickly. But as soon as he’d said it, another came down, now on the other side. SMACK! This took his breath away. He yelled, “Two!” quickly, before he’d even recovered, but then realized that as soon as he’d said it, she struck again. He felt trapped: he dare not wait too long and get her angry, but he didn’t want to count too quickly. It became a game of seeing just how slowly he could count. Before he’d counted to twenty, he was having trouble concentrating on the numbers. He couldn’t control her strokes, even though he desperately wanted this to stop. He feared having to start over again, so he yelled out numbers. In between spanks, he would hear her voice sometimes, asking if he would ever lie to her again. Would he ever poop on the potty at work again? Would he ever break his promises again? He blurted out answers, then tried to say the number, trying to make her happy with him. It didn’t seem to matter what he said, however, as the paddling continued. But he eventually started to hear another noise in between the numbers, which he couldn’t control. He realized that he was crying. He couldn’t really say numbers anymore, but it didn’t seem to matter. Julie was strong, and kept going, long past his tolerance for pain. He ended up wailing and crying loudly, for what seemed like a long time. Eventually, mercifully, the spanking stopped. He heard the brush set down on the counter somewhere behind him. He tried to stop crying, but couldn’t, not right away. She helped him up, and took him in her arms. It was just what he needed. He cried softly for a few moments, murmuring, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She cooed back at him, saying, “I know, I know. You’re a good boy,” quietly into his ear. She stroked his back until he had gotten his breathing under control. He sniffled a little bit, and eventually felt like the hug had gone on long enough. He pulled away a little, and she leaned back from him, reaching a tissue for him. He gratefully took it and wiped his face and his nose. Julie helped him stand up, and sent him to the corner of the room with a nod and her pointer finger. He didn’t mind. He didn’t want to face her in this state. Standing in the corner helped him compose himself privately, which he needed. “Hands on your head, please,” she told him as he shuffled awkwardly to the corner. He heard her clicking on her computer, and then heard her chair scrape the floor. After a few minutes, he heard her voice. “Okay, you can be done. Turn around.” He turned around shyly, letting his arms fall. She was right there, and she was leaning down in front of him. She grasped his pants and pulled them up, helping him tuck his shirt in, and buckling his belt. She handed him his laptop bag, and reached for her purse, which he now saw was certainly large enough to carry her brush. Did she do that every day? Did she always have that brush? Then she extended her hand, and led him silently out of the office. When they got to their cars, she kissed him on the cheek and said, “You did well tonight, you know. Let’s hope that never happens again.” He looked at her, and earnestly told her, “It won’t.” She smiled warmly. “I’m glad to hear you say that. But if it does, you can expect to be over my lap again. See you tomorrow, okay? Be good.” His bottom burned like crazy, and did hurt quite a bit as he tried to get into his car. He was sure he didn’t ever want to endure something like that again. If she wanted to change his dirty diapers, that was fine with him, just as long as she didn’t bring out that brush again. Anything was better than that. And yet, he reflected on the way home, he somehow felt so much closer to her. He felt grateful to her for offering a route back to her after his bad decision. He felt forgiven and cleansed in a way. It had been a surprisingly intimate experience for something that did not involve sex. He marveled over this. But thank goodness it was over. He went to bed early that night, at least in part because it was easier to lie down than to sit up. He realized then why she had focused so intently so low on his bottom: she knew how to make the discomfort last. She’d gone after the place he sat on. And—indeed—he kept thinking of her all evening. He slept easily, feeling exhausted. The next morning, there lingered an extra closeness between the two of them. He had felt that before with a woman, but only after sex with a partner. They had shared something special, and though he never wanted to share it again, he almost understood why she had done it. All anger seemed forgotten, and all animosity had disappeared. When she changed his diaper, he felt her touch his bottom tenderly, then whistle. “Wow, what happened back here?” she said coyly, giving him a sidelong glance. She rubbed in some lotion to the sore, red, bruised skin, and this felt wonderful. Once he was rediapered, as he was pulling up his slacks, she broached the subject of spanking again. “I know it hurt, but there’s an advantage to a spanking, you know?” He stared at her. “I’m sorry?” he said, unsure he’d heard her correctly. “Oh, yes. It is a wonderful way to clear the air, I’ve found. Spanking is my preferred way to settle scores. It is so much better than letting disagreements stew, arguing for days. Can you see how nice it is to move on with no hard feelings?” He stood for a minute, silent. He enjoyed this new closeness, and certainly didn’t want to argue about this if it would complicate things. And…she was right, to some degree. He wasn’t sure it was the only way to move on, but he was glad not to have to revisit his mistake from yesterday. “Yes, I guess so. But…it doesn’t mean I liked it. I…don’t ever want to do that again.” She smiled. “No problem. Just behave yourself, okay?” She patted him on the bottom and sat down to work, satisfied that he had accepted her disciplinary authority, and that he had essentially agreed to accept it in the future. The conversation made him a little nervous, as he considered the possibility of having to face Julie’s hairbrush again. But he didn’t argue with her. It obviously was effective, and had brought them closer together and allowed them to move on. He thought he understood why she liked it. He was still sore. The next few days he was tender, even with the diaper, and every time he sat down, he thought of Julie. Again and again, he swore never to disobey her again. Chapter 14 He made sure he was extra good that week. He didn’t need to move his bowels at work again for another week, and he was hoping it wouldn’t ever happen again. But on a Friday, just after lunch, he felt a lot of pressure, and his hopes sank. He was talking to one of his partners, and he ended the conversation and looked around furtively. He really needed to go to the bathroom, but—Julie wouldn’t like it. He walked tentatively up to their workroom, and, catching her eye, approached her. “Hey, um. I…think I’m going to need…” He trailed off, still embarrassed about the whole thing. He wanted to do this right, but how could he tell her, and have her change him? It was just so awkward. She stared at him for only a moment, but then completed his sentence. “…to poop?” His surprised expression made her smile. “It wasn’t hard to figure out, you know. You haven’t had a poop for a few days,” she said, gesturing at the magnet chart they still used to modify his fiber intake. “And it’s after lunch. My little boys at home usually go after a meal.” His face reddened and he stared at the floor. “Um, well, I wanted to let you know, ‘cause…” She touched his arm. “Because you didn’t want another spanking? That’s a good boy,” she quietly said, pleased. She shrugged. “Well, have at it. We have a few minutes before patients arrive for the afternoon.” She patted his front, which no longer shocked him, and noted that he had already wet, so he was due for a change anyway. He was surprised. He once again hadn’t remembered peeing. He had meant to work on making that more voluntary, something he tried to do, rather than letting it happen. But this time, he wasn’t even aware of it! Right now, however, there were more important things to worry about. Julie went back to work at her computer, apparently leaving him to do his business right there. He hesitated, again reluctant to use his diaper in front of her. Not for this. Not if he could help it, right? He turned to leave. Maybe he could use one of the exam rooms. They were built for privacy. “Where are you going, mister? I thought you had to poop.” If he could have colored any more, he would have. “Uh—well, I just thought I’d duck into one of the exam rooms…” But Julie was already shaking her head. “Oh, no you don’t. You can’t go stinking up one of our patient rooms. We’re going to use those rooms. If you’ve got to go, you can do it right here.” Now he paled. “In front of you? I can’t.” She looked at him. “Really? You did it the other day. You’re wearing pants AND a diaper. I can’t see you do it! What’s the big deal?” He was dumbstruck. Did she really not have the same sense of shame that most people had, or did she like embarrassing him? “I don’t want to…do it…in front of someone else. It’s embarrassing.” Julie shrugged and went back to working. “Poop, or don’t poop. But I’ve got work to do, so if you’re going to poop, it will be right in this room with me here. Get over it.” A cramp struck him. He looked at the clock. “Please, Julie,” he heard himself whining, somewhat childishly. Suddenly she gave him a stern look, and he couldn’t help glancing at her purse. Did she have her brush today? “Never mind…” he murmured. The corner of her mouth twitched, and she went back to her work. He walked away from her, trying to get behind her and as far away within the room as he could. It was hard to imagine himself being alone, hard to go standing up. It was just weird. But if that was what Julie wanted, he would make her happy. He squatted a little, trying not to make any noise. He couldn’t help a little grunt, however, as he successfully accomplished his task. He felt the diaper push out, and then could feel the mess against his skin. He was consumed with how gross that felt, and didn’t notice Julie pushing back her chair and walking over to him. “Let’s get that taken care of right away, okay?” she said lightly, all business. He waddled carefully over to the exam bed and lowered his pants gently. A horrible smell came wafting up, and he noticed that she had thoughtfully already closed and locked the door. He lay back and allowed her to change him. It was a much faster process than the previous messy diaper, which had been all over the place. He watched her carefully for signs of disgust or impatience, but saw none. It was almost like she really didn’t mind! Before long he was in a clean, dry diaper—a feeling he was now growing to like. Julie was washing her hands, and he thanked her. “No problem,” she said, seemingly happily. “You’ve been a very good boy today.” At the end of the day, she changed him out of his diaper, and said, “I think that we might finally have a day we could have you over for dinner, if you’re still interested.” “Yes, please!” he exclaimed happily, in a voice he realized was probably a little too loud. Who cared? This was great. They set a date about two weeks later. She’d make supper, and maybe he’d bring some wine. It sounded good to him. He’d get to meet her young boys. Then they’d put them to bed, and…who knew? Almost whistling on his way home, he again thought back to the bizarre turn his life had taken. It was so, so weird, but Julie somehow made it feel right. He didn’t mind wearing the diaper for her at work anymore. He wasn’t sure it all made sense, but he had a hot, smart nurse making his days easier, and touching him in all the right places. He really needed to move this relationship along. He had waited a long time to be with her. It didn’t even occur to him to ask her about not wearing diapers any more. It was what she wanted. Maybe it was better for their patient care, but somewhere inside, he was starting to recognize that her happiness was becoming more and more of a priority. When she smiled, it made him feel wonderful. He was leaving a friend’s house the next night after watching a basketball game, stopping to check his phone, when it happened again. He felt hot liquid rushing down his leg, and had some difficulty stopping it. He felt his sock dampen! He hurriedly got into his car and headed home, grateful it hadn’t happened in front of someone. He was no longer sure he could fix this while working at the office. He started to doubt whether he could control himself at all. Monday, he casually mentioned to Julie at the end of the day that wearing the diaper at work had had an unintended consequence of making him less aware when he urinated. She broke into a smile. “Great! I told you there would be perks.” His face clouded a little. “Yeah, but it’s not a perk when it also happens outside the office.” Her smile faded. “Oh. You mean…have you had accidents?” She tried to look concerned. He didn’t answer, but she could read his expression. She sat down. “Oh,” she said again, more to herself. “Well, that’s a problem. How many times?” “Two,” he replied honestly. “I don’t think anyone saw, but they weren’t just little leaks. So, I’m wondering if you have any ideas about how to keep that from happening.” He pointed to the magnet chart. “I mean, you’re good at solving problems like this, I’d bet. Is there anything I can do here at the office to keep that from happening at home? Do you think Kegel exercises would work?” Obviously, Julie did not want to seem gleeful about this development, but that was truly how she felt. She’d been wondering–hoping, really–that something like this would happen, and it opened opportunities to evolve their relationship sooner than she could have expected. She had to seem concerned for him, however. “Would it? There is no harm in trying, obviously, but it doesn’t seem like it is a problem of muscle weakness. More like behavioral training? You’ve allowed yourself to relax your bladder, and now you’re not paying much attention to it.” She chanced a smile. “It does sound nice not having to worry about such things. Most people would probably envy you.” She continued, “But. You could certainly try the Kegels. Until we see whether they help when you are away from work, however, I think we should consider another option.” She looked hesitant. “I’m not sure you want to hear this, but there are straightforward ways to handle wetting problems like this.” He looked confused, so she gave him a little more info, hoping he’d figure it out. “You know, there are millions of people with leakage problems. You see some of them as patients. How do you tell them to handle it?” “Well, they ought to wear protection until they can….” He trailed off. He couldn’t meet her eyes, as he said, somewhat dully, “You want me to wear a diaper at home, too?” Time to make the case. “It doesn’t matter what I want. But I think you might need to wear a diaper when you go out. What a disaster if a patient saw an accident! What kind of advertisement would that be for you and your practice? I think from a business perspective, just until you have the accidents under control, you don’t really have a choice.” He looked doubtful but concerned as he sat at his computer. He could use some reassurance. She got up and came over to him, sitting next to him and touching his arm. “Look, your diaper is invisible to everyone else. You know that. You and I are the only ones who know about it. It is a personal solution that no one has to know about. It might be embarrassing to you, but you are certainly accustomed to it at this point, and it works. It only makes sense, for a little while, at least.” He nodded. “I know that, logically. It’s just so humiliating. It seems ridiculous for a grown man.” Julie smiled to herself, but was careful not to let that show. It certainly was absurd! He was an adult who had let himself be convinced by her to wet and mess in a diaper, at his workplace! He had let her spank him, not for some sexy game, but for discipline. He had shaved himself and let her clean him, count his bowel movements, and restrict him from using a toilet. He had let himself be led down this path every step of the way. She decided that she could help him here, too. “Nonsense,” she said, stroking his arm. “Being an adult is taking care of your problems. And it only impresses me more that you’d be willing to take such a responsible step.” She paused, thinking. “Why don’t we just send you home in a diaper each evening, and you can change out of it when you are done being out and about? You certainly don’t need to wear it at home, do you? Have you had an accident at home?” He shook his head. Thank goodness. “Fine, then. And if you did, you’d be in private anyway. That’s where you can practice keeping your pants dry. And things will be better before you know it!” She got a perfunctory smile out of him, which was probably about what she could expect here, so she considered it a done deal. Part of him had to know that increasing the amount of time he spent in diapers wouldn’t help his “problem”, right? But he didn’t say anything. She was sure he really didn’t like the diapers, so she wasn’t sure why he was so agreeable to this “solution”. Maybe he was just too naïve and optimistic for his own good. And maybe he trusted her. That was good for him in the long run, but not if he had any interest in fixing this “problem.” She stood up, finished with her work, and said, “When you’re done we can get you changed.” He finished a note and hopped up on the exam table, still deep in thought about his bladder issue. She changed him, this time putting a fresh diaper on him instead of sending him out in his grown-up attire. He noticed and looked a bit glum. Maybe she could perk him up a bit. “We’re still on for Friday dinner, right?” This broke him out of his funk. “Yes! Of course. Um, did you decide for sure what I can bring?” he asked, knowing that he was not really in much of a position to help. He wasn’t much of a cook. Perhaps sensing this, she said, “How about a nice loaf of bread in addition to the wine? We’ll have spaghetti. It’s the boys’ favorite.” That cheered him up, and she was happy to see him leave on a happy note. As they walked together to their cars, she noted the little diaper waddle he had and thought happily that it was the first time she had seen that outside the office. That was progress! Chapter 15 Friday night, he showed up at Julie’s house wearing slacks and a button-down shirt, more casual than work, but still looking nice, he hoped. He was also wearing the diaper she had changed him into before they left that afternoon. She had made it clear that it might be best if he kept it on for his visit to her house. “Oh, you might as well. I would certainly understand if you had an accident at my house, but it’s just simpler if you wear it home and then to my house. I can change you there if you’re wet. I’ll even bring a few diapers home with me.” He looked uncertain even then, until she had said, suppressing a laugh, “And I’m sure you were hoping to get naked with me on the first date anyway.” She knew how to make him feel better about the situation. He had grinned and agreed, and now he stood on her doorstep with a slightly wet diaper under his clothes. He was nervous as they took their relationship to another level, and felt awkward that he was doing it in a wet diaper. He didn’t feel very romantic. But when Julie answered the door, dressed up in a pretty dress, her face beaming at seeing him there, he forgot all about the diaper. She was pretty in scrubs, but she looked much better in real clothes! As the door opened, delicious smells of spaghetti sauce wafted toward him, and his stomach stirred. He handed her the bread, some artisan loaf he’d found at a bakery—an actual bakery!—and she ushered him inside. Her little boys were waiting just inside the door, obviously carefully placed there for introductions. Thomas, a 3-yr-old, gave him a high-five when offered, but Andrew, 18 months old, hid behind his mother. They ran off to watch TV while Julie invited him into the kitchen of what turned out to be a modest but nicely kept apartment. They talked about the day while the noodles cooked. At one point, Julie’s hand dropped to his pants, patting and slightly squeezing his diaper. She had done this before at work, almost mechanically, so he didn’t find it strange. “Do you need a change before we eat?” she asked as the food neared completion. “I think I can wait,” he replied, and helped carry dinner to the table. During dinner, where Andrew sat in his high chair but Thomas had a booster seat, they talked about the boys, who warmed up quickly to him once they were sharing food. After dinner, the boys went to play in the family room with some action figures, as he helped Julie clear and wash the dishes. When that was done, she said, “I bet you’re soaked now. Let’s get you changed quickly before the boys need to be changed.” Suddenly, Thomas ran into the kitchen. “Mommy, Andrew pooped!” Julie smiled apologetically and said, “Or, maybe I’ll take care of them first. Do you mind?” He smiled. “It’s fine. If you’d rather, I can actually use the bathroom. I’m helpful that way.” She frowned as she left to find Andrew. “Oh, no. No, just give me a minute and I’ll be ready for you.” He wasn’t sure why she didn’t want him using the bathroom here. It seemed like an easy solution to unburden her, and it wasn’t like there were patients waiting. He’d gotten better at handling his diapers, but she still seemed dismissive of his attempts to help. He sat and chatted with Thomas, until Thomas was called to come get changed. Andrew emerged wearing pajamas, and resumed playing without so much as a glance at him, which told him Andrew was growing more comfortable with him. Apparently Thomas was just wet, but he dutifully followed directions and returned a moment later, also wearing pajamas, very like his brother’s. Then he heard his own name called. The boys didn’t look up, and, smiling ruefully, he followed the sound of her voice back to her bedroom. She was tossing a small wrapped up diaper into a sealed container, and had a large fresh one sitting on her bed. “Time for my big boy’s turn,” she said, smiling, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him on the cheek, and turned him so he was facing away from her bed. Then her hands came down to his chest, and she playfully pushed him gently back toward the bed. He laughed as he fell onto the bed, then, catching the hint, unbuckled his pants as she locked the door. She changed him without any extra touching, even though he hardened as she touched him. But she pulled the front of the diaper up against his erect penis, pointed up toward his belly, and taped him up quickly. She then patted the front of his diaper, and said with a smile, “You put that away for now. Maybe there’ll be time for that later.” She left the room. He took a deep breath. He’d waited a long time for her to touch him outside of work. But—of course—this wasn’t the time, with her kids awake in the next room. So he took a few deep breaths and tried to distract himself enough that his erection would subside. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so easy when she left his penis in the “up” position. In this position, there seemed like there was more friction and movement against that sensitive part. This combination seemed to make it more difficult to go down on its own. And she had taped the diaper so tight that it was hard to adjust himself, or even touch himself at all. He could barely sneak a finger down to push himself into a more comfortable position after he softened, if he sucked in his gut. He’d kind of gotten used to this type of frustration, but it was still annoying. In fact, he was frequently hard inside his diaper, due both to her deliberate ministrations and also from her more practical touching during changing time. It was certainly one reason he didn’t object anymore to the diaperings. As his desire for her grew, every diaper change was a little magical, so that now almost anything diaper-related made him think of sex. He could hardly see a diaper or smell baby powder without getting a little excited. He was a little overdue for an orgasm; that would certainly help. Normally, he’d have just gone home after work and taken care of that tension himself. But she’d left the diaper on him after work, which put a kink in his plans. So he was ready! And it seemed likely that tonight the reward might be worth all he’d allowed to happen to him this past month or two. Finally, he felt he could leave the bedroom without a visible erection under his diaper. He rejoined the little family as the boys had a snack and read a story before bed. For a while after they were asleep, he and Julie sat up and talked. Eventually, Julie winked at him, and said, “It might just be time to take that diaper off.” In her bedroom, she laid him down on her bed. He sprang to attention as soon as she untaped his diaper. He was surprised and a little alarmed to see he was wet, but was distracted enough by impending events that he didn’t care. Julie noticed his surprise, however, and commented on it. “You didn’t know?” Blushing, he shook his head. “Glad you were tucked away in one of these, then!” Then she rolled it up and tossed it away. Julie cleaned him off, as usual, and this time, did not rediaper him. She cooed to him about how happy he made her, and how she wanted to make him happy. Her soft, warm hand moved up and down his member, and he was in a state of bliss. She reached over to her bedside table, pumped out a little hand lotion, and kept going. He was a little too ready for this, from her, right now. He came quickly, spurting over his belly, even up to his chest. He gasped, and eventually opened his eyes to see Julie smiling fondly at him. She cleaned him off and laid down next to him. “That’s been a long time ‘coming’, hasn’t it?” she asked playfully. “I’ve been sort of teasing you for quite a while.” “Yeah,” he panted. “You have.” He smiled. “But I forgive you. Your hands are sooo nice.” His eyes found hers. “But…I’m sure you’ve been waiting a while as well.” His own hand stroked her stomach. Her breath caught. “Well, perhaps I have. What are you prepared to do about that?” She coyly looked back at him. He smiled. “Anything you’d like! What’s your pleasure, Miss Julie?” “Ooh, ‘Miss Julie’? I could get used to that,” she said, then hummed a little with pleasure as his hands played over her clothes. “I do have a rule about no intercourse on the first date, so no use waiting for you to, um, recharge. But perhaps there is some other way you might be able to help?” She smiled as his face disappeared under her dress. She could get used to this, too. Chapter 16 He left not too long after he’d brought her to two separate climaxes. He felt proud to have shown her his willingness—and ability—to pleasure her this way, and hopeful about this relationship. There were many parts of it that were strange beyond belief, if he was honest with himself. But Julie was special. She was smart and funny, and they clearly seemed to be made for each other. He was still quite sure he could fix this bladder issue. No matter what Julie said, it was weird to try to be the man in the relationship if she was changing his diaper. If he could fix that accidental wetting problem, and not wear a diaper outside of work, that would help his male ego a lot. He wanted to be Julie’s man, not her baby. She was patient, but he worried that if things kept going this way, he’d lose her. Of course, he needn’t have worried. Julie was thrilled with their date, happy with their surface relationship, and ecstatic that he had accepted wearing a diaper in her house. She was setting some important precedents, and he hadn’t really objected. She would dictate the times and manner of sex. He wouldn’t assume he could use her bathroom. And he seemed willing—and capable—of servicing her, which was always a good thing in a relationship. Over the next few weeks, they saw each other often. He dined with them frequently, and really enjoyed getting to know the energetic boys better. They came to expect his visits, and requested him to play with them down on the floor. They would tackle him, and he would tickle them, and Julie would watch, smiling. He always wore a diaper at her house. She did not want him leaking on her furniture, she said, and it was hard for him to argue, now that he wet sometimes without realizing it. At his own house, he went without a diaper, but with only intermittent success. He found his underwear, and sometimes his pants, wet every few days. This drove him crazy. He was sure that if he concentrated, he could solve the problem. But as he spent more and more time with Julie outside of work, he spent less time without a diaper on. And so there was less and less time to work on the problem. One night, Julie took him to bed after changing him out of his last wet diaper. They made love, and afterward basked a bit in the afterglow. “I was wondering if you might want to spend more time with us. The boys love you,” she said, adding shyly, “and I might, too.” His heart raced as he took in her words. “You do?” He reached out for her hand. She looked down demurely. “I do.” Her eyes met his. “Is that a problem for work?” He smiled broadly. “Who cares? I love you, too. We’ll make it work.” “If anyone can, I bet we can. We make a pretty good team, don’t we?” She smiled at him. “Let’s get you ready for bed.” After he had a warm, clean diaper taped onto him, they lay in bed happily for a bit, lost in their own thoughts. She eventually spoke up tentatively. “What would you think…about moving in with us?” She rushed on to explain. “It might be easier for my boys. They’ve grown to expect you here, and are confused when you aren’t. It might be a little tight in terms of space around here, but cozy can be nice, too.” He thought about it. “That sounds great,” he said quickly. He wanted to spend every minute with Julie. “Would I give up my apartment?” She shrugged. “If you want. You don’t have to decide right away. We could just try it for a while.” They weren’t talking about anything permanent, so it wasn’t intimidating. He beamed. “I’m in! Let’s try it.” The next night, after supper, they spent some time talking about the logistics of such a move. They decided on the following weekend, and talked about what he might bring. He wouldn’t really need a moving truck, since her apartment was essentially full. But there were a few things he’d like around, and his clothes. As they cleared the dishes, she looked at him sideways. “You know, it would mean that you have to wear diapers 24/7. I’m still not having you leak on my furniture. Are you ready to man up for that?” He grimaced a little. He hadn’t really thought of that. And that was a big question, wasn’t it? She was laying it out there for him. How much did he want her? Enough to put up with round-the-clock diapers? She saw him hesitate and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, come on.” He wasn’t eager to concede this point right now. Maybe he could put off this conversation to consider how to convince her. “We can talk about it.” She turned to face him. “Well, we’re kind of talking about it now. And it’s not negotiable on my end. My boys need a good role model. To them, the answer to your wetting problem is pretty obvious. You have to wear diapers if you wet your big-boy pants. It wouldn’t make sense to them if you didn’t follow the same rules. I can’t confuse them, and I also don’t happen to like stains and odors.” He looked down. It was hard to argue against her logic. “But how am I going to get better at this if I’m always wearing those things?” She came to him and put her arms around him. “We’ll work on it if that is important to you. But safety—and hygiene—first, you know?” She kissed him. “Guess it makes moving in a little easier, right? No need to bring any underwear.” She smiled at him. He loved her smile. Nevertheless, he resisted, feeling trapped. Wearing diapers was still embarrassing to him. He looked away. “But…I want to be a man for you, not a little boy. How can you love me if you’re changing my…” He couldn’t even say it to her. “Taking care of a medical issue IS being a man,” she reminded him firmly, frowning gently. “Being a good role model to my boys, taking responsibility for yourself, being a good doctor, those are all part of being a grown-up. You ARE a man to me. I don’t care where you go pee-pee.” Her hand traveled down his side and to the front of his pants. “Now, I’m not going to hear another word about it. Instead, it feels like you’re wet, and I’d like to change you and let you show me what kind of man you are.” She squeezed his wet diaper suggestively. He hardened instantly, and she smiled. “Mmm, that’s my big boy.” He wondered for a moment if he’d ever won an argument with her. Then her hand pulled at his insistently, and he decided that, for now, it didn’t really matter. Chapter 17 The boxes were unpacked, supper was served and cleared, and he had just finished the dishes. They had spent the better part of the day moving some of his stuff into her apartment. She didn’t have a lot of extra space, so he was just moving in his clothes (sans underpants), pantry supplies, and books. Julie was getting her boys settled with a coloring activity. He walked into the family room, and felt the pressure start to build in his bowels that told him he was going to need to go. And that meant that it was time to confront Julie about this. He needed to say something now, since it would definitely come up again and again. Time to make a stand. There was no reason he couldn’t poop in the potty at her house. He stood in the entrance to the room, and Julie looked up at him. “Um, do you have a minute?” He shifted his weight uncomfortably. She smiled and stood up, coming over to him. He turned and walked back over to the kitchen table, where the kids would not hear them. “I need to go to the bathroom, and I’d like to use the toilet.” She appeared confused. “Why?” He’d seen Julie take this approach before, playing dumb. It annoyed him, if he was honest. But he managed to keep his temper. “Because I LIKE to use the toilet. I’m a grownup and I need to go.” Her face cleared as she understood. “You need to poop?” she asked. When he nodded, Julie’s face grew firm. “We’ve already talked about this. But I’ll explain again. I want you to use your diaper in this house. I don’t want you in my bathroom except to shave, shower, or brush your teeth. Understand?” she said, looking intently into his face. “Say it back to me so I know you heard me.” “But—“ “No, repeat it to me.” He sighed. “You want me to use my diaper.” “And stay out of my bathroom except for what?” “Taking a shower, shaving, and brushing my teeth.” She patted his cheek. “That’s a good boy.” She turned to go. He couldn’t give up that easily. “But why? That seems unreasonable. I don’t like to…you know, poop…in my diaper. I’d really like to use the potty. And…and…it has to be easier for you if I…take care of it…like an adult rather than if you have to change my diaper, especially when it’s…you know…” She shook her head impatiently. “No, it’s not easier for me. Because it means that you have to bother me to come change you out of your diaper, then wait for you to go, then change you back into your diaper. So it is actually taking more of my time if you don’t poop in your diaper like a good boy. I’m sure you aren’t telling me that your stupid modesty is worth wasting that much of my time, are you?” Her face looked stern now. He didn’t want to make her angry, so this was a fine line to walk. He’d learned that upsetting her would not help him win an argument with her. But his need for a toilet was becoming more insistent. “Of course not, it’s just…” he trailed off, considering a different tack. “I don’t understand why you don’t care about my feelings about this.” Her face turned more tender. “I do care. But.” She caressed his cheek. “Your feelings about pooping are silly, and we have talked about them over and over. You get embarrassed about the funniest things, and I view one of my jobs as getting you over that childish hump. Sometimes being a big boy means doing things you don’t like. And this particular thing is very important to me. Do you understand?” He nodded sullenly, despairing that she would not give in on letting him use her potty. “I can’t hear your manners,” she reminded softly. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, as the pressure in his bowels increased. “It’s just that—“ “Ah-ah,” she interrupted sharply. “That’s the end of that conversation. We’re not having another word about my private potty. Understand?” He nodded, and, when he noticed a pause, said, “Yes, ma’am.” She grabbed his hand, and started to pull him back into the family room. “Then come on back in and join the family. Enough of this silly talk.” He pulled back. “Um, can you please just, uh, give me a moment in here,” he asked, looking around a little desperately. “I just need, like, a minute of privacy. Please. At least give me that.” Julie stepped back and looked him up and down slyly. She suppressed a smile. “No, I don’t think so. I want to show you something in the family room.” He started to object, but when her eyebrows went up, he silenced himself and followed her reluctantly. She went to her boys, who were starting to argue about each other stealing crayons. At least she allowed him to stand behind her, pretending to admire the boys’ drawings, instead of in her line of sight, which was a small blessing. He really didn’t want to poop in front of her, despite everything. He felt his bowels moving, and yet still tried to hold off. “Can I get you anything from the kitchen?” he asked as he started to sweat a little. Anything to let him poop in private. Julie paused and looked around at him. She smiled wickedly. “Oh, no, thank you. Being together is why it’s so much fun to live together.” His face drained. She wanted him to fill his diaper here and now. Not that there was much choice. Damn that fiber! So much harder to fight against it. As she turned her head back to her kids, he let it out, aware that he was grunting softly, but unable to quiet himself completely. He partially squatted to finish. The boys were still busy arguing and coloring, and—oddly—Julie did not react to his act of submission. She had to have heard him. At this point, for goodness sake, she had to smell him. But she kept talking to the boys as if he weren’t there. He didn’t know what to do. Obviously, he needed to be changed. And clearly, Julie must have known this. Did she want him to interrupt her? Or, since she knew, did she want him just to wait quietly? In the office she changed him immediately. Were the rules different at home? He hated to draw attention to himself in this state, so he decided to wait quietly. What he really didn’t want to do was move. But two minutes later, when Julie had shown no sign of paying him any attention, he subtly (he hoped) cleared his voice. Julie looked up at him, and said unexpectedly, “Hey, could you do me a favor? Could you sit here with the boys for a second while I grab them a snack? It’ll just take a second but I don’t like to leave them alone with weapons as dangerous as crayons.” Sitting was the last thing in the world he wanted to do right now. But before he could answer, she jumped up and indicated that he was to take her place at the little coffee table that now doubled as a craft table. He looked at her, concerned, trying to talk with his eyes. “But I—“ She interrupted with one hand on his back and one on his shoulder. “I’ll just stop you there. I think the words you were looking for were, yes, ma’am, right?” She smiled knowingly at him. “Your little…situation…will wait a few minutes. We’re all friends here.” He let himself be guided to the floor. She said helpfully, “Kneeling would be okay, if you don’t want to sit, whichever is most comfortable.” He quickly knelt, leaning forward and trying not to disturb the load in his diaper. She stood behind him now, and he suddenly felt her hands on his head, pulling it back, back, back. He looked up to see her smirking and leaning down to kiss him. “I love it when you are good for me,” she said. He agreeably moved to meet her lips, only realizing as they kissed that she had forced him back on his heels. He could feel his messy diaper becoming messier. She met his eyes briefly, noting the flinching expression on his face. “Just give me a minute. Patience is a virtue.” It was more than a minute. The foul smell enveloped him. He tried to distract himself by asking what Andrew was making. He was mostly scribbling, but determinedly using very specific colors. He would have been a lot more amused had he not been almost entirely focused on his diaper. To make it worse, after about five minutes, he found he could not keep kneeling because his foot was falling asleep. He tried to shift his weight, feeling a squishing around his bottom, but it didn’t help. He tried to pull his foot out from under him, but as he could not feel his foot, he lost his balance and landed hard on his cushioned butt. New waves of stink wafted up toward him, and he choked on the smell. Andrew was oblivious, thank goodness. But he couldn’t exactly make himself comfortable sitting in his mess. How long would it be before Julie returned? He was getting annoyed at her absence, and he was unhappy at the cooling mess in his diaper that, the more he thought about, didn’t even need to be there! He struggled to his feet, shook off the tingling in his feet, and headed to the kitchen. He did take care to walk with his legs apart so that he didn’t make things even messier. Julie saw him waddling into the kitchen and stifled a laugh. She was pushing him a bit tonight to see how submissive he really was. But this night was important to setting their hierarchy in this new stage in their relationship. Apparently, while he was certainly malleable, he still had a little fight in him. She didn’t mind that at all. She didn’t want a wimp for a boyfriend (or husband, if all went well). It was good if he could stand up for himself. But he needed to know that in their relationship, she was the boss, and there were consequences to disobeying her. “Where have you BEEN?” he asked her once he got to the kitchen, his tone a little more angry than he intended. He was so uncomfortable and embarrassed. “If I’m going to have to use my diaper, I need you to change me! It’s…” His voice choked a little. He tried to keep himself from crying. He was so frustrated and uncomfortable. “It’s just so…” Julie was in the middle of pouring milk into sippy cups and getting out goldfish. She stopped and stared at him. “What are YOU doing out here?” she replied icily, staring him into silence. After he trailed off unhappily, she continued, “I gave you what I thought was a simple instruction: to sit with the boys until I got back. I didn’t want them left alone. I was making them a snack that would keep them busy long enough that I could change you. Now please go back and wait with them. Please do not make me upset with you.” “Okay,” he grumbled after a moment. “I just don’t understand what is taking so long.” She glared at him. “Well, I’m sorry you’ve had to spend time with my kids. I promise you that within a few minutes, you and I will be spending quite a bit of time alone together, one on one. Now go sit down at the coffee table.” It must have been the continued preoccupation with his diaper that kept him from hearing the danger in her voice. He sullenly turned around and waddled back out to stand near the coffee table. Rather than sitting again, he decided he would stand to wait. The kids were getting restless. Andrew had stood up and was throwing the crayons at his brother. “Andrew, please don’t throw crayons,” he offered tentatively. Andrew ignored him. This would be a good time to redirect him, he thought, sitting him back down, making him pick up the crayons, or giving him a different activity to do. But that would require him to bend over or sit again, and he didn’t want to move. The weighty lump in his diaper immobilized him. So his intervention was not very helpful, and Andrew threw another crayon. Thomas, of course, did not like that, and soon the brothers were enjoying launching different colors at each other. When Julie entered the room, she took in the scene quickly, pausing only a moment before yelling, “What is going on here? Boys! Pick up the crayons and put them in the box. Now.” The boys quickly complied. Maybe it helped that she was carrying snacks, or the mommy’s-mad tone, but they seemed to know that Julie meant business. She turned to him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you’re not sitting like I asked, and that you weren’t helping here. Go wait for me in our bedroom.” Like the boys, he finally recognized that tone, and didn’t argue. He was just happy that she would do something. He waddled into the bedroom and stood near the bed, where there was a changing pad lying next to a large unopened diaper, powder, and wipes. He let his eyes wander around this room, which was now his as well as hers. His eyes settled on a chair from the dining room that was sitting near the window. Was that here before? His musings were interrupted by Julie’s businesslike entrance. “Lie down on the bed on the towel, please,” she said brusquely. She turned and locked the door. Sensing her angry mood, he obeyed quickly. Those boys could really make her mad! He decided he would help ease her stress by showing how he could cooperate. Getting out of this diaper more quickly suited him very well. He laid back into the by-now very familiar position she had shown him. She moved the box of wipes to within reach, and untaped his diaper. She pulled it forward, and said, “Up.” He raised his legs and grabbed his knees. His skin felt cool to the air as the odor suddenly worsened noticeably in the room. He felt her use the diaper to clean the bulk of his mess off, then fold the diaper under him. “You know,” she said as she drew a cold wipe down and across his hips. “We’re all going to need to work together if this is going to work. Those little guys take a lot of work, and I’m going to need your full cooperation. Down,” she said. This time, as he was focused on her words, it took him a moment to realize she had commanded him to lower his legs. He put his feet on the bed, realizing that she did not expect him to say anything. Julie got a clean wipe and used it to clean his groin. He grew hard as she cleansed his penis and testicles, then pulled them to one side, then the other. He hoped she would notice and touch him a little. The door was locked, wasn’t it? But if she noticed, she apparently wasn’t in the mood. His penis twitched, straight up in the air, untouched. He fought the urge to reach down and at least tuck it somewhere so it wouldn’t look so ridiculous. Instead, she continued what he realized was a lecture. “I was NOT pleased with your behavior tonight.” “Up,” she instructed. She finished the cleaning ritual, as she continued, “After I specifically asked you for patience, you came in and yelled at me. If you’d taken time to notice, you’d have seen that I had set up the bedroom to change you, and was making the boys a snack so we’d have time alone.” He was silent, knowing she needed to vent. He realized she was right. She bundled the messy diaper up and wrapped it in a bag. Then she used a new wipe to clean her hands, then tossed all of them into the sealed trash can. “Worse than that, you left the boys alone when I’d directly asked you to watch them. They were getting restless, and I needed you there. You left them alone, and they started making a mess.” He waited for her to grab a fresh diaper, but instead she stood for a moment with her arms crossed. He propped himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, I’m really sorry, honey,” he offered. “It’s just that in the past, you’ve always been so quick about helping me when…that…happens.” She nodded. “Because we’ve been at the office, and we’ve needed to be very discrete. But I’m juggling a lot more balls here at home. I was very disappointed with you tonight.” His cheeks burned. He resented being made to poop in his diaper and then not being changed. Didn’t it seem like too much to ask of anyone? “Look, I said I’m sorry. It’s…just…so gross. You don’t understand. If you want me to use a diaper like that, you kind of need to help me out when it happens. I’m not sure what you want me to do.” She coolly regarded him. “I want you to listen to me and cooperate. Apparently you don’t understand how important that is to me.” She turned around and sat in the chair by the dresser. “So now I’m going to make sure you understand how important it is to me.” He paled as he saw her reach over to the dresser and pick up her hairbrush. His eyes darted around. She had implied this could happen again, but he didn’t think… “Um, I totally understand, Julie. So…but, um…isn’t there some other way? I—I get it now. I understand how important it is to you. I’ll listen from now on. There’s no need for…” But she sat there stonily, staring at him. “If you want to show me that you know how to listen to me and follow my directions, I suggest you come stand next to me right now.” He was sweating a little. He’d been across her lap before and didn’t want to do it again. “But…your boys are…” “They’ll be fine. They’ve got a snack and a little video they love. COME. HERE.” He slowly stood, not sure how else to delay the inevitable. He took a step forward, then another. Her sober face did not promise mercy. When he’d gotten near enough, considering what else he could say to change her mind, she reached up suddenly and grabbed his ear, pulling firmly. Searing pain erupted from his ear. He bent down to relieve it and suddenly found himself over his girlfriend’s lap. She shifted and he found that one of her legs was over both of his. He couldn’t move. He stared at the floor, his stomach in knots. He felt something cool on his bottom. She rubbed him with her brush. “When I tell you to do something, like sit with my kids, or to come stand near me, there is a REASON. I. WANT. YOU. TO. DO. IT.” Each word was suddenly punctuated with a sharp stinging smack to his rear end. It stopped for a moment, and the pain seeped in. He gasped. That wasn’t her hand. She was using the brush right away. This was much worse than last time. “If I can stop to explain, I will. If I don’t explain, you need to understand that I. WILL. EXPLAIN. WHEN. I CAN. JUST. FOLLOW. MY. DIRECTIONS.” He gasped again. It was hard to breathe when she was spanking him this hard and fast. The lecture and spanking went on until he was crying. Crying because of the pain, and crying because he had disappointed Julie. At some point along the line, she stopped talking, but he didn’t notice. Finally, he noticed she had stopped spanking. She let him stop crying, then helped him stand. He stood before her, hands holding his bottom, sniffling. “Look at me, sweetie.” He had trouble meeting her eyes. “Look at me.” She guided his chin upward until their eyes met. “I – I’m sorry,” he sniffled. She smiled. “I know you are. And I’m not mad at you anymore. Give me a hug.” She stood and they hugged for a long time. Eventually she looked at the clock. “We have a few minutes before the end of the video. There are certainly lots of things we could have done during that time if you hadn’t needed a spanking… but for tonight, let’s get you in a nice clean diaper. How does that sound?” He nodded, and laid down on the bed. His bottom still stung, and felt so hot. She retrieved another diaper, and before taping it on him, rubbed some lotion, then some powder, onto his skin. When he was diapered, he stood up. “Can I help you with anything?” Noticing the improved attitude, Julie beamed. “Sure. Why don’t you clean up the boys’ snacks and sippy cups, and I’ll get them ready for bed?” After he dressed himself, they worked to get the boys into bed and the house cleaned up. They snuggled on the sofa watching a movie before Julie yawned and said it was time for bed. Julie let him brush his teeth in her bathroom, then shooed him out so she could pee before bed. She came out and grabbed a new diaper, tossing it onto the bed. “Okay, time for a bedtime diaper.” He had indeed wet himself while she was in the bathroom, so he took his pants off and laid down. Julie cleaned him up, and then, as he hoped, let her hand linger on him until he became hard. She turned down the lights, seductively removed her clothes, and took advantage of his nakedness. As had become their habit, he pleasured her first “to get her in the mood,” then entered her. They came together. Afterward, they lay together for a few minutes, and he felt her hands touch his bottom, still hot from the spanking. “Sorry about the punishment. But I still think it’s better than letting any anger fester unspoken. Don’t you?” At this, her hand drifted around to the front of him. He had to smile. The sex had certainly salvaged the night very nicely for him. “I guess so,” he said thoughtfully. “I still think we could talk about…” He paused when he saw Julie’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Maybe we can talk about that later. I’m tired now.” She nodded in approval at his discretion. “I bet you are. I’d better get your diaper on you so you don’t wet my bed.” She couldn’t see him roll his eyes, which was good. She cleaned him again, taped him up, then exclaimed, “Oh! I just remembered something I made for you!” Confused, he sat partway up on the bed as he watched her dart to the closet and search for something. “Here it is! Just finished it last night. It’s sort of a welcome-to-our-apartment gift. Hope you like it.” She held out what looked to him like a t-shirt. Wait, no, it was too long—what was that? A nightshirt? She waited for him to say something, good or bad, about her creation—would he accept this next step? Then she saw his wrinkled brow and realized why he was silent. He didn’t know what this garment was. Julie was happy to explain. “It’s a onesie! It can be your jammies now that you live here. You wear it to bed! The boys have always worn one, and I thought it looked so cute on them, I decided to make one for you. The nice thing for you is that it completely covers your diaper. I know you’re still a little self-conscious about that. Do you like it?” He had no idea. He hadn’t been around kids before, and wasn’t familiar with it. But she was so happy, and he was touched by the idea that she would make clothing for him. So he said, “Of course! It’s wonderful.” Her response, a broad smile, made him feel happy. He reached out for it, and she shook her head. She wrinkled it up in her hands, intending to help him into it. He sat waiting, and she stretched it over his head. It fell around him like a shirt, but was quite long. He looked down, frowning. Julie pushed him back. “Lie down, silly. There are snaps.” He let her push him back, and felt her hands pulling at the shirt. It seemed to be connected by something underneath. She was busy for a moment, then patted his diaper. “Ok. Sit up and let’s see how it fits.” He dutifully sat up, feeling the shirt pull downward as he did so. He looked down and saw that the shirt covered the diaper. He didn’t mind that. “Good so far. Can you stand up in front of the mirror?” As he did, he saw that it was just a long t-shirt that snapped at his crotch. He liked not having to see the diaper, though it wasn’t perfect. The bulge from it was still obvious. He looked more closely at the fabric. The shirt was light blue, and had yellow rocket ships on it, interspersed with stars. She saw him looking. “Sorry, this was the only fabric I had around.” He smiled and kissed her. “It’s fine. I like it. I used to love rockets. They remind me of my youth. It was so nice of you to think of me.” She stood back and looked at him. She reached forward and pulled at the crotch, then smiled, apparently pleased. “I believe that is going to work well!” Then she frowned slightly. “But those snaps are kind of tough to handle if you can’t see them well. If it’s all the same to you, why don’t you let me be the one to snap and unsnap them. You don’t really have any need to bother with them.” “Yes, ma’am,” he responded instinctually. But he was still thinking about the childish fabric. He didn’t really love it, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the other stuff he put up with, for God’s sake. And tonight, he certainly wanted to stay on Julie’s good side. His bottom still radiated heat, trapped by the diaper. But lying close to Julie overnight, the heat faded, and he felt safe, falling asleep with her arm around him. Julie was awake for a while, musing over how perfectly this evening had played out. She’d made it clear firmly but lovingly that she was in charge, and he had eventually accepted it, as she knew he would. He’d be careful about listening to her, at least for a while, until he’d need another reminder. He understood that the potty was off-limits. She could keep him out of the bathroom except for supervised visits. He’d help with the boys, which was wonderful. And she’d really only gotten started. Now that he was here, his training could really ramp up. Never out of diapers. Never unsupervised in a bathroom. And now in a onesie, which would help keep his hands from mischief. She smiled and closed her eyes. Chapter 18 The next day was Sunday, and he slept in. When he woke up, he found Julie had already awakened. As he heard the boys chattering happily in the kitchen, he understood why. Small children didn’t allow parents to sleep in very late. He was immediately aware of how hot he was. Well, not all of him, but his crotch. He was confused for a second until his hands found his diaper. He had not slept in his diaper before, and he found he was a little sweaty. But then he wondered if it was really sweat. He pushed at his diaper and was relieved that it didn’t seem wet. But he couldn’t see that little indicator strip now that he wore his onesie. He could unsnap the onesie and look, but—oh, crap, Julie had told him not to do that himself, hadn’t she? Well, he probably didn’t really need to look. He could tell he needed to pee, pretty badly. He got out of bed and turned toward her bathroom. He sighed. That’s right. It was her bathroom, not his. Since he was wearing a diaper, he didn’t have a reason to go in there, did he? She seemed very territorial about it, for some reason. Maybe issues from a past relationship? Otherwise it seemed weird. Should he find her and talk about that? It needed to happen. But—he could hear her, busy with the kids. This wasn’t a good time to get into it. And…he really needed to go. For now, he decided he might as well use this diaper. I mean, he was wearing it, wasn’t he? It would certainly make Julie happy, and that might make for a nice day! He relaxed and emptied his bladder into his diaper, and was somewhat surprised to notice that he was enjoying the sensation. Peeing was nice, and he had gotten used to the spreading warmth in his diaper. It didn’t really feel wet until later. Holy cow! There was a lot of pee this morning! That made sense—he was sure that was true most mornings, but this was the first time he’d peed into his diaper in the morning, so it was just more immediate to him. The diaper held it, but became extremely heavy and swollen. It pulled downward, which in turn pulled the onesie down. He could actually feel the fabric put some pressure on his shoulders. When he was done, he looked around for something to put on over his diaper/onesie combination, and found some loose fitting shorts. It was awkward to dress over such a full saggy diaper. He headed out to the kitchen, aware that he couldn’t even really walk normally with his diaper this wet. When Julie saw him waddling out into the kitchen, she stifled a laugh, enjoying his toddler-like appearance. She got up and went over to kiss him warmly, hoping her mirth did not show. After the kiss, she looked down and tugged on his shorts. “You can lose these, sweetie. You don’t need shorts with a onesie.” He was a little self-conscious, though. “I don’t mind. It feels funny not to wear pants.” “No, no,” she said. “That makes it harder to see when you need to be changed. Please take them off. You can leave them in the bedroom.” She pointed to her sons, obliviously wearing only their diapers and onesies. He sighed. “But—“ “Ah, ah,” she interrupted. “I don’t like that word. It makes me think you want to argue.” She was sort of smiling, and her eyes sparkled. She didn’t seem mad. She reached down and pulled down his shorts, letting them fall to the floor. Then she stood back up and looked him in the eye. “Do you want to argue?” Now there was a flash of a challenge in her face, though she still had a hint of of a smile on her face, as if she already knew the answer. He swallowed and shook his head. He did not like challenging her. “No, ma’am.” She smiled her radiant smile at him. How could she look so pretty first thing in the morning? It was simple–but not always easy–to make her happy. “What would you like for breakfast?” After returning his shorts to the bedroom, he joined the boys for some eggs, toast, and coffee. Julie noted his lack of pants with a nod of approval. He was very self-conscious of this, but the boys certainly did not notice, so he shrugged and sat down for breakfast. He did not enjoy the squishy feeling of sitting in such a wet diaper, but Julie was busy and he assumed she would attend to him when able. After last night, he wasn’t going to complain about not being changed immediately. Sure enough, after breakfast, Julie changed the boys. He cleaned up the dishes from breakfast and felt like he needed to move his bowels. That was more typical for him than the accident last night. But suddenly Julie was there, waving to him to join her in the bedroom. He knew he should probably mention something about moving his bowels, but didn’t want to bring it up. So he was changed quickly and was very happy to get into a dry diaper. She then tended to herself, closing and locking the bathroom door for a few minutes. He found himself alone in the bedroom, with an urgent need to poop. He knew it was useless to ask about the potty, so he filled his diaper, happy at least to have some privacy. His task finished, he realized he was sort of stuck. He didn’t want to interrupt Julie, but also didn’t want to sit down. He awkwardly stood outside the bathroom door, waiting for her. After a few moments, the door unlocked and opened, and he smiled at her bashfully. She looked at him, obviously wondering why he was waiting at the door, then gave a quick sniff. “Seems like you could use another change, my friend,” she observed while she readied her toothbrush. “Why don’t you brush your teeth and shave, and then we can take care of that?” Later, wiping his bottom for the second time in ten minutes, she asked, “So do you usually poop right away after breakfast?” He nodded. “Well, since I started taking those fiber pills every day, I do, anyway,” he said, somewhat annoyed. He gasped a little as she poked her wipe into his bottom. He still couldn’t get used to that. He had to remember to ask her if it was still necessary. But Julie was nodding. “It will make it easier, though, if your messy diapers are predictable,” she said. “It helps me plan. And I’m sure you don’t want surprises, right?” He had to agree with her there. Even worse than pooping in his diaper would be doing it at work. “We can work with that. But maybe we’ll wait to change your wet diaper tomorrow morning until after you’ve pooped. Diapers aren’t cheap.” She helped him off with his onesie, then went to wash her hands. “Why don’t you shower, then we’ll get you into a nice clean diaper and some grown-up clothes for the day?” He liked the sound of a shower. He did notice that Julie didn’t really leave the bathroom during his shower. Women take so much time getting ready! he thought, though he certainly did not express this. He enjoyed his shower and the feeling of being undiapered for a few minutes. He had finished washing his hair when he heard a knock on the translucent shower door and saw Julie nearby. He opened it a crack. “I noticed some stubble down there this morning. I left a razor in the shower if you want to take care of that.” “Sure,” he said, agreeably. At home he didn’t shave his diaper area every day, but he certainly could. If it kept Julie happy, he was all for it. The happier she was, the more likely he could find a time to make her listen to his concerns about not being allowed in her bathroom, or to change himself. When he was done, he found a fresh diaper waiting for him on the bed. He dried off, combed his hair, and applied some deodorant, but Julie still wasn’t around. Still naked, he poked his head out of the bedroom, aware that—in this house, anyway—he couldn’t really get dressed without his diaper. But she wasn’t in the hall. He could hear her talking to the boys in the family room. Again he was stuck with a dilemma. He didn’t want to bother or annoy her, but he felt foolish just hanging out naked. He decided to get dressed without the diaper, and just let her put it on him when she was ready. As it happened, Julie walked in as he was pulling on his pants. “Whoa, cowboy! Forgetting something?” she laughed. He let the pants drop and reddened. “No, of course not,” he said. “I just thought…” She pushed him gently to his back on the bed. “You thought what? That you’d put on your grown-up pants without a diaper? That is not a good idea in your condition.” His condition? he thought. “I can hold it for a while,” he protested. She powdered him and pulled the diaper between his legs. “Maybe, but we don’t know how long. If I’m not here when you come out, I’d like you to come find me before getting dressed.” “Naked?!” he asked. “Well, or with your shirt on. Or you could text me. How about that?” He nodded, then caught himself. “Yes, ma’am. I just don’t like to be dependent on you for everything.” She ducked into her bathroom to wash off her hands. He stood and resumed putting his pants on. She returned to the bedroom and patted his cheek. “Oh, sweetie, you aren’t. It’s no great shame that you aren’t an expert at changing diapers. Men traditionally aren’t,” she smiled, patting the front of his diaper. He was going to comment on that when Julie said, “And now I think we’ll be ready to hit the mall after lunch. Still up for it?” They had agreed to go shopping together today. They needed a few new things for the apartment, and the boys were growing out of their shoes. Together they got the little ones in their car seats, and headed to the mall, listening to a Sesame Street playlist Julie had prepared for the car. She was such a good mom, he thought. On the way, she said, “Maybe this trip would be a good time to work on staying dry. It won’t be as easy for me to change you when we’re out, you know. Can you focus on that, and we’ll see how you do?” He thought that made sense, and was eager for the challenge. He also secretly wanted to show Julie he could stay dry. They had fun at the mall. The boys were very good; Julie had a double stroller for them, though sometimes they liked to get out and walk. They stopped and had a drink in the food court. Not long afterward, they passed a family restroom, and Julie took the opportunity to check the boys’ diapers. Thomas was wet, but only a little. Andrew, however, needed a change. While they were in the restroom, he played with Thomas outside. Julie opened the door and beckoned him over. “How are you doing?” she asked in a low voice. “Still dry?” He considered. Honestly, he had forgotten. His brow wrinkled as he tried to remember if he had wet. Julie sighed a little and pulled him into the little bathroom. They got the stroller inside as well. “Let me just check.” Julie patted his diaper, and a look of concern crossed her face. She quickly undid his belt, unsnapped and unzipped him, and looked at the diaper. He looked down, too, trying to see. She did up his pants again, then stood, a grim look on her face. His hopes fell. “You don’t remember going, do you?” she asked, fixing his belt. Crestfallen, he shook his head, then remembered to say, “No, ma’am. Maybe after we stopped for drinks?” He was silent for a moment, considering. “That’s not good, is it?” While Julie was secretly quite pleased, she did not let her joy show on her face. She shook her head solemnly as they all tumbled out of the little bathroom. “No, it is certainly not good. Looks like you’re going to be in those diapers full-time for the foreseeable future, mister.” Chapter 19 That night Julie’s mother came over for dinner, as she apparently did every Sunday night. He was nervous, as this was the first time he was to meet her. Julie ordered take-out, which was the tradition. She didn’t like to cook on Sunday nights, and he went to pick it up. When he arrived home, Mrs. Davis was already there. She was on the sofa, playing with her grandsons, who were thrilled to see her. Julie had poured some wine for the adults and was setting the table. “So this is the famous doctor I have heard so much about,” her mother said warmly, standing. He walked over, carried dinner in one hand, and said, “It is so nice to finally meet you.” He extended his other to shake hers, but Mrs. Davis held open her arms. “Give me a hug.” She pulled him close for a moment, and he had an uncomfortable thought that maybe she’d be able to feel his diaper. Or hear it. Or even smell it—had he wet this one yet? But she gave no indication that anything was amiss, and her smile was truly warm and welcoming. He could see where Julie had inherited her charms. They got to know one another at the kitchen table over a few glasses of wine. Mrs. Davis had been a nurse, and had inspired Julie to do the same. She was sharp and funny, and he felt comfortable around her immediately. But he did have a little bit of unease as he wondered how much she had heard about him. He heard about Julie’s upbringing. Like all mothers, she had a few practiced stories about her daughter, which seemed designed to embarrass her, but Julie took it in stride. Mrs. Davis helped feed the boys, but attentively listened as he described his family in turn. Afterward, he cleared the table and did the dishes as Julie and her mother played with the boys in the family room. Mrs. Davis noticed and clearly approved of his cooperative spirit, and Julie beamed with pride. They shared a meaningful look as he disappeared into the kitchen. When he had finished that chore, he joined them on the sofa. But Thomas chose that moment to fill his diaper, grunted determinedly in front of the coffee table. “Uh-oh, looks like someone is going to need a change,” Mrs. Davis commented, smiling. When Thomas had finished, she took him by the hand. “I’ll take care of this one,” she said. “Thanks, Mom,” Julie said. When her mother had left the room, Julie said to him, “She loves you. Nice job with the dishes! You passed the test!” He smiled. “Whew! Hope it wasn’t that close.” Julie shook her head. “Of course not. I’ve told her all about you. She was thrilled with you almost before she met you.” That reminded him to ask how many details Julie had shared. But at that moment Mrs. Davis came back into the room, carrying her grandson. “And here we are again, smelling much nicer than before. Nothing like a clean diaper, right?” she asked the room. Julie nodded. “Everybody loves that. Thanks again, Mom.” Her mother brushed aside the comment. “Of course. You work so hard being a mom for this family. I’m happy to take a turn.” Julie stood and looked at him. “Actually, maybe it’s time for us to take a moment as well,” she said. He looked up at her, confused. She cocked an eyebrow expectantly. He blushed. She wanted to change his diaper. “Oh, sure, right,” he said, not having any idea how to cover their obviously intentional exit. “No problem,” Mrs. Davis said, smiling at them. “We’ll be okay for a few minutes. Take all the time you need.” In the bedroom, he lowered his pants and laid down obediently on the bed, but hissed, “Does she know?” Julie unconcernedly pulled off the diaper tapes. “Know what?” She pulled down the diaper, which he saw was quite wet, and ran a wipe over his front. He sighed with exasperation. “About this! About my diapers. Did you tell her?” Julie couldn’t help but notice that now he said “my” diapers. Cute. A good sign. “No, of course not. How would she know?” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t know. It just seemed like it would have been obvious to her when you excused us out there. I mean, what else could we be doing?” Julie laughed as she wiped his bottom and found a dry diaper. “I don’t know. What do couples usually do in the bedroom?” she asked with a sparkle in her eye. He said, “Oh, sure, we just ducked into your bedroom to have sex for a minute.” Julie pulled the diaper between his legs and tightly taped it. “What we do behind closed doors is none of my mother’s business.” He stood and she patted him on his padded bottom. “You worry too much.” He pulled up his pants and refastened his belt. He felt better that Mrs. Davis didn’t know she changed his diaper. When they returned to the family room the boys were deeply engaged in playing a superhero story, with Mrs. Davis enjoying the show. She turned to them. “Everybody all set now?” she asked. “Now tell me: where did you go to medical school?” He wondered what she meant by that first question, but didn’t have time to dwell on that, as he was called on to answer the second. They had a good conversation. Mrs. Davis was genuinely interested in him, and seemed pleased with his answers. When the boys were put down to sleep, she excused herself as well. After Mrs. Davis had left, he cleaned up the kitchen. Drying his hands, he returned to the family room and saw Julie sewing. “You really are talented,” he said, hoping to keep the evening positive. He had hopes that tonight would end up happier than last night. Julie smiled, then leaned over and accepted a quick peck on the cheek. “Why, thank you, my love. Since you liked the first onesie, I’m making you a second one, for laundry days. What do you think?” The fabric was mixed blue and pink blocks. In truth, he had mixed feelings about these clothes. They had turned out to be quite comfortable to sleep in, and he liked that she was thinking of him enough to give him things. But he had come to the conclusion that they were more childish than he’d originally realized. There was a strong pattern in their relationship of Julie treating him like one of her young children. Individually these things—the diapers, the spankings, the onesies—seemed to make a little sense at the time, but collectively they were sort of hard to explain away. He realized he hadn’t answered. “Oh, really nice,” he said, thinking there would be time to talk about the child vs. man issue another time, once he’d gathered his thoughts. But he still felt like pushing back a little. “Hey, if you like the way these things look, why don’t you make yourself one? We could be like a whole onesie household?” He was curious how she would answer. She smiled. “Well, I like having a little easier access to what’s underneath, you know?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “And I bet you like having that access, too!” He caught her meaning and felt himself getting a little hard. How did she do that? She was so sexy, and that made it easier putting up with some of this stuff. She continued, “And of course, the snaps would make it harder for me to use the potty. That’s not an issue for you boys, so it just makes sense that if anyone gets to wear a onesie, it’s you. Boys have all the fun,” she said, shrugging. This seemed like the opportunity he was looking for to discuss the potty situation. He didn’t like how things were settling into a habit of him never using the potty—the bathroom, he corrected himself (Julie’s language was infectious!). He sat down next to her. Julie smiled a bit as she heard his diaper crinkle. “Can I ask you something?” he said. Still smiling, Julie laughed, “As long as it’s not about diapers. That’s settled, right?” Caught off guard, he stammered forward, “Well, I understand that I’ve been leaking sometimes, but…” “Wetting,” she corrected. She wrinkled her nose. “Leaking sounds like there is a problem with the diaper.” Not wanting to get bogged down in semantics, he nodded. “Ok, wetting. I understand that I’ve had some ‘wetting’ accidents, and that you want to protect your furniture. But I’ve never had any bowel issues, so I still don’t understand—“ Julie’s smile had vanished. She shook her head a little sadly as she looked at him. “You and your hang-up with pooping. What is it with you?” He paused to consider how to answer. How could she not see the difference? But she went right on, “I really don’t get it. It’s a natural bodily function. I’ve already told you: I don’t care, and changing you doesn’t bother me. I was hoping that once I’d proven that to you, you’d relax a bit. “And I’ve explained how much time it would take to undo your diaper and let you poop in the potty. It’s not about my personal preference: pooping in your diaper is just good time management.” He’d heard this before. But then why couldn’t he change himself? He clearly had a lot more diaper experience now; it couldn’t be that hard. “But—“ “Do NOT let another word out of your mouth if it is about diapers or pooping. I meant it when I said that issue is settled.” He considered quietly. “I can’t hear your manners.” He looked up and saw her eyes, fiery, and saw her lips pressed together. If he thought about it, he could still tell that his bottom was still a little sore from last night. “Yes, ma’am.” She relaxed a bit. “That’s my good boy. Why don’t you brush your teeth and bring me your onesie? It’s getting late.” He turned to obey. Julie was sweet almost all the time, but she didn’t like being questioned. The woman knew what she wanted! He’d have to think about how to approach this issue in the future. He didn’t want to test her now, but he wasn’t willing to give up his bathroom privileges forever. When he had been to Julie’s bathroom to brush, and found his onesie, he found her in the bedroom getting out a clean diaper. He set the onesie on the bed, and taking her cue, pulled off his pants and laid down on the bed. She attended to him efficiently, and though he was looking forward to some special fun during his bedtime diapering, he found himself rediapered and snapped into his onesie before he could protest. He read a little while Julie readied herself for bed. When she came to bed, she seemed a little quiet. He rubbed her neck a little until she turned to him. “How about taking advantage of that ‘easy access’?” he asked, smiling. That put a little smile on her face, and he happily ducked below the sheets. Julie was not hard to pleasure, and he took some delight in his ability to make her happy so quickly. He could feel himself stiffening inside his tight diaper during the process. When he reappeared above the sheets, Julie seemed more relaxed. She leaned over and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. “Thanks, baby. I needed that.” With that, she fell back against her pillow. He waited a moment, expectantly. When she didn’t make another move toward him, he frowned and scooted closer to her. But…she was breathing deeply like…she was asleep! He could feel himself under his diaper, hard and ready, but now had nothing to do about that. He lay back on his own pillow, and tried to rub himself through the diaper. It felt nice, but not nice enough. He wondered what Julie would do if she found dried cum inside his diaper. Would she mind? Would she notice? He noticed with disappointment that his onesie kept him from getting a hand down his diaper. He could unsnap it, but that might be loud enough to wake Julie. He tried to reach through the side, but Julie had apparently taped the diaper on quite tightly. And the onesie almost seemed designed to be tight around the sides as well, so he could barely get a finger in. Not enough to help, that was for sure. Briefly he considered getting up and going somewhere to attack this more effectively. But where? Because he wasn’t allowed in her bathroom, there was nowhere that could be completely private. He could sneak into the family room, but that seemed creepy with the kids in the apartment, and what if he woke Julie getting out of bed? What possible excuse could he have for not being in bed? Frustrated, he sighed heavily and tried to think of something else. He couldn’t believe Julie had forgotten his needs. It was a long time before he got sleepy and was able to rest. Julie, who was only pretending to sleep, heard him quiet down. She smiled. He had passed the test, though she had certainly made it difficult to do anything else. Her huffy mood earlier had been a bit of an act, designed to excuse her not being “in the mood”. And she had carefully diapered him tightly to make sure he wasn’t overly tempted. She didn’t think he would be crazy enough to untape his diaper tonight and take matters into his own hands. She had specifically emphasized her feelings about his touching his diaper in the past, and she had even told him not to unsnap his onesie. After having spanked him just last night, she had felt sure he would be good. Maybe he was starting to realize the best feature of his onesie, but if he hadn’t yet, he’d certainly notice soon enough. They were designed to cover his diaper, sure, and they made him look adorably infantile, which she enjoyed. But their true virtue was keeping his big boy hands away from himself. She knew he’d surely spent a lot of time pleasuring himself in the past, and she wanted that to change. She smiled as she thought about how he’d respond to her sexual control. They were together at work and at home, and there wasn’t anywhere he could go to be alone. Now that he was in a diaper all the time, which he was not to touch, the onesie might be overkill. But, she smiled to herself, it was still a nice touch. She didn’t want him afraid of her, exactly, but a healthy dose of respect for her discipline was necessary. He needed to know what she felt strongly about, and she was sure she hadn’t left any doubt. They hadn’t talked specifically about masturbation, so she was curious what he would do when given a tiny opportunity. He was a guy in his sexual prime, and so she was sure he was tempted. But he was also submissive, whether he knew it or not. She became surer as each day passed. As confident and decisive as he was in the office, he was deferential and meek at home. And it wasn’t that he was that frightened of her. She was seeing signs—little expressions, big erections—that told her that he was growing to like his position in the relationship. After all, he knew she called the shots, that he would be diapered 24/7 in her house, that she would spank him when she wanted, and yet he still jumped at the chance of moving in with her. Now, as she considered, it was she who felt like pleasuring herself to a second orgasm before she drifted off to sleep. But she could control herself without padding and tape. She would have plenty of opportunities in the future. Chapter 20 The next morning was much more rushed, as he and Julie had work. It generally followed the same pattern as the previous morning, though. He awoke and found Julie already up. He peed and waddled out to the kitchen in just his onesie. They all ate a quick breakfast, then Julie parked the boys in the family room with their toys and dashed to the bathroom. He cleaned up the kitchen and found it necessary to move his bowels before he was done. He finished up and carefully walked into the bedroom to await Julie’s help. He picked out some clothes while he was waiting. She opened the bathroom door, and called, “Ready to be changed?” He realized Julie was specifically asking if he had pooped yet, and he blushed a little. But he called back in the affirmative, and she came out in her underwear and bra, hair wrapped in a towel. She looked great, and he could tell that his horniness was cranked up by not having come the night before. However, the romance of the moment was tempered by the task at hand. She changed his messy, wet diaper, and sent him off to the shower with a pat on the bottom. She finished her makeup and dressed while he showered and shaved. As Julie finished powdering and diapering him, they could hear Julie’s mom arriving to take care of the boys. Julie hurriedly brushed the powder off her hands and set to gathering her work clothes. He finished dressing and emerged from the bedroom. Mrs. Davis was in the boys’ bedroom, apparently changing them into dry diapers. Julie yelled into him from the kitchen, “Sweetie, can you grab three of your diapers for my work bag, please? I’m out.” He turned to obey, then froze. Two things immediately occurred to him. First, there was no way that Mrs. Davis didn’t hear that. Second, that he needed to answer her, and by doing so, he would confirm their relationship status and agree that he used diapers. He could stay silent, but then he risked angering Julie. He wondered for a split-second whether she would spank him in front of her mother. But if she hadn’t kept his diapers a secret, why would she care about the spankings? Crap. “Yes, ma’am!” he yelled back, trying to sound playful but not mocking. He hoped making his response sound like a game to Mrs. Davis would cover some of the embarrassment he felt calling her “ma’am” around others. But for God’s sake, how could he pass off her reference to his diapers?! He felt his cheeks burn. Julie had said she hadn’t told her mom about his diapers. But was this just a slip? Or did Mrs. Davis already know? She seemed to know something the other night… But there was no time to wonder. Julie’s urgent voice broke through his thoughts. “Baby, let’s go. We’re going to be late!” He picked out three of his diapers and headed out to the kitchen. He held them out to Julie, who was tucking his sippy cup into her bag. He realized, staring at the bright blue and pink patterns, that Julie had begun bringing a diaper bag to work. When had that happened? “Did you change bags?” he asked, trying to sound casual. She smiled grimly. “Yeah, do you think it’s too obvious? Sorry, but with all of your…supplies, I needed something bigger. It is the perfect size! I’m sure no one will notice.” He wasn’t at all sure. But before he could say anything, Mrs. Davis and the boys entered the kitchen. Julie was tucking the diapers into the main compartment of the diaper bag as her mother, apparently referring to the bag, commented, “You were right, Julie. Perfect size.” Julie quickly cleared her throat. “Okay, guys, have a great day and be good for Grandma. I’ll be home–we’ll be home,” she corrected herself, smiling at him, “before supper.” “Okay, Mommy!” “Bye!” “Bye,” he called weakly. He grabbed his own bag, trying not to look Mrs. Davis in the eye. He felt like she was staring at him, though. Blushing, he picked up his coffee and fled outside. In the car, angry overtook his embarrassment. “What was that?? You told me your mom didn’t know!” In the passenger seat next to him, Julie sighed. “I know, I’m sorry,” she said. “She didn’t, but somehow she figured it out when you were over for dinner. She asked me about it the next day, so I told her you had some bladder issues.” He reddened further. “So, she thinks I’m incontinent?” “Yes, I thought that was the most reasonable explanation. She’s older. It made sense to her.” She reached over to pat his thigh. “Look, it was bound to happen at some point. We tell each other everything. She’s fine with it, of course. I told her it is a medical thing.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “But you yelled it out this morning so she could hear.” His eyes felt full. Julie was looking out the window as they pulled up to a light that had turned red. “Well, look, there’s no point dancing around it, is there? She’s at the apartment a lot. It’s a fact of life, and she’s part of the family. But I should have told you. I’m sorry about that.” He swallowed, blinking back the tears as the light changed. He’d gotten over some of his embarrassment of the diapers around Julie, but around her mother, too? Julie went on. “I mean, she’s going to notice when we disappear to change you. She’ll see your diapers if she goes into our room. And I don’t see what the point of pretending is. Actually,” she said. “I could imagine she might be helpful in a pinch.” His eyes jerked toward her involuntarily at this. “What? What do you mean, ‘helpful’?” he said, alarmed. She looked over at him, and, seeing his concern, tried to soothe him. “I don’t mean I’ll ask her to change you routinely, unless we can’t avoid it. It’s just nice to have the option of some help. You know, like if I’m at an appointment, or sick or something.” Even as he pulled into the office parking lot, he could feel himself start to sweat. This was not something he’d imagined ever discussing. Julie was already getting out of the car. “We can talk about it later, Sweetie. We’re a bit late now.” He sat for a minute, watching her leave the car. He snapped out of it as he saw a patient arriving and approaching the office as well. He had to move now. But, Jesus, Julie’s mom? He took a breath and shifted to focus on the day. Despite this distraction, the day went well. Once he clicked into work mode, he felt extra energetic today, and used that energy to make sure her day went well. He definitely didn’t want her to be exhausted by the end of the day. He had an investment in making her happy. His quality of life, in general, just like every other man in a relationship, depended on his partner being pleased with him. He wanted to make sure she wasn’t too tired that evening for sex. Two nights in a row would be a disaster! In fact, his mind was clearly preoccupied with her. His penis sprang to life each time she changed him during the day, and Julie noticed. She wondered a little about it, but mostly, it was amusing to her. They finished and headed home a little early for Monday. It was amazing how efficient they were when they were united in their work. As they arrived home, Mrs. Davis was just packing up. “How were the little monsters?” Julie called. The boys gave a yell and came running to hug their mommy. Mrs. Davis smiled tiredly. “Oh, they aren’t monsters. They are the best little grandsons in the world.” Julie raised her eyebrows. “You haven’t seen them at bedtime recently. Your grandsons can resemble wild animals at times.” But Mrs. Davis just shook her head. “Not my boys. I love taking care of them.” She picked up her purse and headed for the door. She smiled at him on her way. “And speaking of boys, it’s nice to see a big boy around the house these days.” Julie smiled fondly at him as well. “I’ll say. Never thought I’d want MORE boys around here, but he is definitely a good addition to the crew. Thanks again, Mom.” “Any time, my girl. Have a good night!” As the door closed behind her, his thoughts were drawn back to their conversation this morning. Julie wouldn’t make him let Mrs. Davis change him, would she? He couldn’t forget to discuss that sometime. While Julie made supper, he played with the boys. They liked running over and tackling him, and he loved their laughs. In bed that night, Julie untaped his diaper and started stroking him gently. He fought his excitement, which built much more rapidly than he had expected. Worried that he would come before they’d even completed the foreplay, he extricated himself from her ministrations to pleasure her. Afterward, to his relief, Julie did not fall asleep. As he returned up to lie next to her, she purred, “I bet you’re ready to go!” She reached down and found this to be true. Their lovemaking was quick, but passionate, and his orgasm was amazing. Julie noticed. Afterward, as she re-diapered him for the night, she said, smiling, “I’ve never heard you so loud. And long—I think yours was almost twice as long as mine.” He was still panting a little, and had to chuckle. “I guess you’re right. I…” he paused as he thought about what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to sound annoyed at her for falling asleep last night, but being frustrated had probably played into why things were so desperate tonight. “I think with the way things ended up last night might have had something to do with that. I was really horny all day.” She laughed and fell back into bed. “Oh, I noticed. Every time I had your diaper off, it felt like you were propositioning me.” She was quiet for a moment. Not a bad time to talk more about it. “Did you like feeling that way?” He let out a grunt. “Hardly. Are you kidding? I’m a guy. I think most of us like coming as often as we can.” Julie propped herself up on her elbow. “Yeah, but tonight seemed way better for you. That’s not worth sometimes waiting a little to have it build up?” He looked at her. She did not look sleepy. She seemed very interested in this discussion. He probably should have taken that as a warning, but he was feeling sleepy post-sex. “Nah—I mean, no, ma’am. I’ll take quantity over quality any day.” He closed his eyes. “Hmm. I’m not convinced,” Julie said thoughtfully. She poked him in the side with her finger to keep him awake. His eyes opened. “I noticed that you were really, really helpful today with the housework and the boys. Almost like you thought it could help your chances tonight.” He laughed again. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He looked up at her. “Did it?” She smiled. “You bet. If I’m not so tired, you definitely have a better chance to get lucky. So keep it up, mister helpful.” He nodded. “No problem. I certainly don’t mind.” His eyes closed again. This time Julie did not poke him awake. “Interesting…” she murmured, as she watched him breathing quietly. The next night, Andrew threw up after supper. Between caring for him and worrying about what could be wrong and if his brother would also get sick, Julie was preoccupied. So he wasn’t surprised when it wasn’t a sex night. He didn’t complain. He understood that would be insensitive. Plus, after their talk the night before, he knew Julie understood what he wanted. She would have accommodated him if she could, and he thought she probably would the next night. So he went to sleep unsatisfied, but not really frustrated. Andrew actually seemed fine the next day, though Julie told her mom about the incident and called her several times during the day over the phone to check on him. But he still seemed like himself by the time they got home that evening, and no one else got sick, so Julie relaxed a little. As she was distracted, he took over some of the chores around the house. He also gave her a little massage once they were in bed, hoping she was feeling good enough to be intimate before they fell asleep. She was. She turned over as he was rubbing her shoulders, and he found himself sitting on her with his hands over her breasts. This was a welcome development, and she undressed him. He again exploded into her fairly quickly but vigorously, and Julie noted again how much more attentive he’d been during the day and evening. This was not something she could ignore. As luck would have it, Julie got her period after supper the next night. He didn’t know until after he had helped all day and massaged her that evening. Julie sighed, and patted his chest. “Sorry, baby. We’ve got to take a little vacation for a few days. I’m out of commission.” He stared at her for a moment, not understanding. She stared back. “My period, sweetie. No sex. You have to keep it in your pants,” she said helpfully. Then she glanced down at his crotch. “Well, in your diaper.” He was startled. He hadn’t had a close relationship that could be disrupted by such things. “Oh, of course,” he said. He didn’t want to appear selfish. “So…you…do you feel okay and everything?” She laughed. “Of course. It’s just a little gross to think about sex.” She put her hand to his cheek. “Are you going to be okay with that?” He nodded bravely. “Oh, sure,” before he followed it up with, “So…how long do your periods last?” She shrugged. “Four or five days. It varies.” She watched his face carefully to see what he thought of that. He repeated her words, letting them sink in. “Four or five days…um, sure,” he said uncertainly. Since he was a young teenager, he had never gone without orgasm for that long. He honestly wasn’t sure if he could. And she had him locked away, so to speak. So he was already wondering what he’d need to do. “Mm-hm,” she said, cuddling closer. “But I was thinking,” she said, stroking his chest. He hardened under his diaper. Maybe she was going to help him get some relief! He loved Julie. Of course she wouldn’t make him wait that long. “That as nice as you are after you haven’t had sex for just one day, it might be interesting to see just how nice you are while you wait for me. I’m kind of excited to find out.” “Wait for you,” he murmured. She couldn’t be serious. That sounded terrible. But how could he say that without sounding like a jerk? Of course she wouldn’t have sex either. But he wasn’t sure it felt the same to women as it did to men. “Right,” she said, nodding. “Are you man enough to find out?” Not that you have any choice, she thought to herself. But she wanted him to be on board with this experiment. “Um,” he said, trying to think quickly. “It just seems like a long time.” That didn’t sound nice, did it? He cleared his throat and tried to look at her, though her head was on his shoulder and this was hard. “I mean, a man has impulses. It can be hard—I mean, difficult—to ignore those. I want to be honest with you. I don’t know if I can do that.” “Oh,” she purred. “I’m sure you can. And if you’re good, I can help in certain ways.” Her finger traced his nipples, tickling him. THAT sounded good. Though he wondered what exactly she meant, he wasn’t going to turn that down. “Then you’ve got a deal!” She nodded, smiling. She led her finger down his chest to his belly button. “I know you can be a good boy. You’ll make me so happy,” she whispered. His breathing quickened as he felt her finger drop further. It now ran along the edge of his diaper, playing with the little ruffle above the tapes. And then her voice, “Be a good boy. Sleep well.” And then the finger disappeared, and he felt Julie turn over in bed. “See you in the morning.” By now he could feel his penis throbbing under his diaper. She’d done it to him again. This time he was pretty sure it was intentional. She was good at that! But she seemed to be promising that tomorrow might be different. He groaned and rolled toward her, spooning her to make sure she felt his hardness against her. He couldn’t see her, but she was grinning widely as she went to sleep. This might be her best idea yet. Chapter 21 He worked hard making her happy all day. It helped that he seemed to have endless energy. It surprised him a bit, as he hadn’t thought he’d slept that well after her blatant bedtime teasing. But he felt like he wanted to go out of his way to make Julie happy, and her smiles through the day seemed to confirm that he was doing a good job. It was tough not asking for her to touch him more than usual as she changed his diaper through the day. But each time, after cleaning and powdering him, she would pat his penis fondly, and say to him, “You put that away for now. Maybe later tonight.” After their work was done, Julie came up behind him and cupped his diaper in the front. “Hmm,” she observed grimly. “You are very wet, aren’t you?” He looked down. He honestly hadn’t noticed it was any different than most days. “I guess. Did you want to change it?” Julie powered down her computer and shook her head. “Sadly, no. We’re out of diapers. You’ll have to wait until you get home. Think you can wait?” He collected his things. “I guess so. I mean, I don’t have much choice, right?” She put her coat on and patted his cheek fondly. “No, silly, I mean, does your bladder feel full? I don’t know if that diaper will survive another flooding.” He paused. “Oh. Well, I mean, I could go, but I’m sure I can hold it. It’s a short trip.” He donned his coat and picked up his laptop bag. She regarded him for a moment, pondering. “Yes, but I think we should take an extra precaution, just in case.” She found a blue disposable waterproof pad and brought it along to the car, handing it to him when they got there. “Put this on your seat, please.” He stared at it. “Seriously? I’m sure I don’t need that,” he said dismissively. “Maybe,” she admitted, climbing in. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d put it down anyway.” He shook his head. Julie had a hard time not mothering him. But it wasn’t worth fighting about. Mrs. Davis and the boys were nowhere to be seen, but they could hear Andrew’s little voice explaining something earnestly from the bedroom area. As he and Julie put their things away, The boys and Mrs. Davis, chattering, entered the kitchen. “Hi, guys, we’re all dry and clean,” she said, smiling. Julie smiled back, then glanced at him. “Must be nice. We will be soon, I’m sure.” Then she seemed to notice his surprised expression. Did Julie just tell her mom that his diaper was wet?? To his horror, Mrs. Davis reached over and patted his diapered rear end, feeling the weight of his wet padding. “Wow. Well, I’m still in changing mode if you need a hand,” she said to Julie. He froze. Mrs. Davis wasn’t speaking to him, wasn’t looking at him. Only at Julie. It was…like he was a toddler! Julie paused and appeared to be considering. To his relief, however, she shook her head. “No, Mom, that’s okay.” She handed her mother her purse and coat. “I appreciate the offer, you’ve had a full day. I can take care of it. I’m sure you’re ready to get home.” Her mother nodded. “Of course. Just wanted to make sure you knew I don’t mind.” Julie smiled. “I know, and I’m grateful for the offer. But we’re not quite ready for that yet. Maybe down the road.” “Oh, of course. But it would not be any trouble. I’ve been changing diapers for a long time.” “Yes, you are a pro. Thanks again, Mom. Have a wonderful night.” He breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind Mrs. Davis. Julie had saved him, though she hadn’t exactly shut down the idea completely. “Julie, I’m REALLY not comfortable with your mom, you know…” he told her at supper. She was cutting little chunks of chicken for the boys, and nodded. “I know. Don’t worry. I told you–only if we have to.” He took a breath. “But–look, I know you like to be the one to change me.” Julie looked up with a bit of a warning expression, as if she didn’t want to talk about that topic. “And–and–I get that you are better at it than I would be. Although, well, we’ve never tried, so how would we know?” he said quickly, then rushed on. This wasn’t his main point and he didn’t want to get bogged down. “But that’s fine. I obviously love it when you change me and I know you’re in charge of that.” He took another breath. Andrew was feeding himself the chicken chunks. Thomas had asked to be excused and was playing with a truck next to the table. “But in an emergency, it seems like I could handle my own diapers, right? Why would you ever want your mother to help? Because I don’t want her to help!” Julie seemed a little affronted. “What’s wrong with my mother? Did something happen between you two?” He sighed. “No, of course not. It’s just that it would be so embarrassing to have someone else, you know, see me and touch me that way.” He couldn’t believe he had to explain this. Andrew was done, and Julie got up to wash his face. He’d managed to get mashed potatoes on both cheeks and his chin. “I know, but I’m sure she’d be better at it than you would. If she is here, and she could do it better, why wouldn’t we have her do it?” She efficiently wiped the food off Andrew’s face, which he tolerated. Then she helped him down from his booster seat. He ran into the living room, and Thomas took the truck and followed. “I feel like this goes back to you being unnecessarily embarrassed about basic bodily functions.” He sputtered, “But–listen, I’m an adult, and–” Julie interrupted, her voice hardening perceptibly. “…Who wears diapers and needs some help with them. My mother changed my diapers when I needed it. She can change yours, too.” As his cheeks reddened, imagining the humiliation, Julie softened and, standing above him, touched his cheek. “Listen, I’ve already told you that I won’t ask her to change you unless it is really necessary. But if it does, you will agree and you won’t give her any trouble.” She brought his chin up so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “Tell me you understand me.” He swallowed hard, trying to think of an argument that would sway her. But he could see she had made up her mind, and he no longer had that chance. “Sweetie, do you trust me?” He sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” “Then tell me you accept the fact that there could come a time when my mom could have to change your diaper.” He paused. But what could he say? He was also, in the back of his mind, thinking that he wanted her in a good mood for later. Julie had suggested they could have some play time later, and although he knew he wouldn’t come, he was curious what she had up her sleeve. “Yes, ma’am, okay.” Julie smiled. “That’s my good boy. Time to clean up dinner, if you wouldn’t mind.” She headed into the living room to supervise her sons. He cleared the table thoughtfully, coming to terms with the apparent diaper-changing hierarchy in the home. Julie really felt like he shouldn’t ever change his own diaper. He didn’t understand why, and wasn’t even allowed to help make the decision. It left him feeling powerless and small. But he had learned to trust Julie, and he wondered whether he could trust her enough here, too. At bedtime tonight she changed him for the last time up near the head of the bed, which was unusual. She patted his side of the bed, and he laid down where she indicated. She changed and cleaned him, then asked, “Up for a little fun?” She was being funny, he realized. He was hard as a nail the moment she untaped the diaper. “Yes, ma’am!” he cheerfully replied. “I love your manners, mister,” she cooed as she opened the closet and pulled out a duffle bag he had not ever noticed before. “They will get you far in this life. Or at least in this bed.” She pulled out some scarves. His brow wrinkled. Scarves? He was woefully uninformed, Julie saw, and it made her smile at him. “Trust me?” she said. “…Yes?” he said back, looking at the scarves with confusion. Julie tied his hands to her headboard. He smiled once he saw what she was doing. This could be very fun, he thought. She did not tie his feet, and as soon as his hands were immobilized, she unsnapped his onesie and undiapered him. “Time for some fun, baby,” she said, as she positioned herself down near his waist. He was fully erect, his penis bobbing in the air expectantly. Julie addressed it next. “Sorry I’ve been so distant, my little friend.” Her fingers lightly touched it and he flinched, sending it away from them. This amused her, so she repeated the game several times. His breathing was already becoming heavy, she noted with amusement. She would have to be very careful. She tickled his balls, and the bare skin around his member. He was extremely sensitive, making her wonder what several days of abstaining would do to him. She smiled. This was going to be a fun week. When his breathing had evened, she extended her tongue and tickled him all over again. When he seemed to be getting close, she backed off again. Eventually, she was able to use her full hand, pushing him closer and closer to the edge, then slowing down. He was sweating, and his arms started to pull hard on the scarves. She was driving him crazy. No one had ever treated him like this before. It was so hot. He had never imagined himself at the mercy of a woman who was in control and yet who delayed his orgasm so expertly. How did Julie do it? Of course, Julie didn’t know his body that well at this point, so she couldn’t be sure. She erred on the side of caution, backing down sooner than she otherwise might, knowing she would have lots of chances to refine her technique in the future. After twenty-five minutes of playing with him, she took him in her mouth and delicately teased him orally, carefully watching his face, listening to his breathing, and feeling his muscle tone. Eventually she came up to his face. “Enjoying yourself?” she purred. Nearly exhausted, he said, “More than you can imagine.” She laughed. “I’m so happy. Remember you said that in about two minutes.” She jumped up and left the room. He was baffled. Where had she gone? He felt a little silly tied up all by himself. But she returned a moment later carrying a towel. She approached him and laid the towel over him. He smiled. What was next?! The towel seemed like a reasonable precaution if she didn’t want mess all over her bed. He thought that the night’s activities might be ending soon. And he was right, though not in the way he’d hoped. Out came a bag of frozen peas, which went on top of the towel. He looked up at her, again questioning her. She explained, “I’ll never get you back in that diaper without some help. But I thought the peas were cruel without a towel.” She left the room again, entering her bathroom. The toilet flushed and then she returned. Julie checked under the towel. He had softened considerably. She grabbed a diaper and expertly tucked him away for the night, returning the vegetables to the freezer and tossing the towel in the laundry. When she joined him in bed, she reached for the scarves. His face was full of confusion. “But…” She looked at him. He couldn’t finish his sentence. He was heartbroken, but didn’t want to complain. Maybe there was still a chance he could come? It didn’t look good, but… Julie said, “Oh, sweetie, you were never going to come tonight. It’s too soon. But I wanted you to have some fun. And you did, right?” She tucked the scarves into the duffel bag and took it to the closet. He was speechless. “Kind of…” he trailed off. When she turned to face him, her eyebrows raised, he stammered, “Well, yes. It was amazing. I just thought…” She closed the closet door and came back and sat next to him on the bed. “Baby, we’re going to try something this week. You are a wonderful man, but I’ve noticed that, like most men, you are limited by your hormones.” He stared down at her hands. A few moments ago, those hands were doing wonderfully sensuous things to him. He just wanted to get back to that moment! She reached up to his chin, pulling his eyes up to meet hers. He was preoccupied but she wanted him following along with her now. “It turns out,” she explained, “that when you don’t have sex, you become even more considerate than usual. And helpful. Were you aware of that?” Seriously? He was surprised to hear this. “I try to be…that way…all the time. I didn’t realize you were unhappy—“ She cut him off, placing her finger on his lips. “Shhh. No, no, I didn’t mean you weren’t a good partner every day. You are. But something interesting happens when you haven’t had sex. You seem much more connected to me emotionally. I wasn’t sure at first if I was imagining it, but it is clearly true. And if you weren’t even aware of it, then that tells me that this…phenomenon… is not just something you are trying to do when you’re desperate.” She sat back. “Actually, when I look back to other relationships, it might have been true then as well. So maybe it’s all men.” She shook her head a little. “Honestly, I wish I’d noticed this earlier in life. Could’ve been verrrrrry helpful.” Julie turned back to him. “But the point is, I need you to explore this with me.” He frowned. “What do you mean? Explore what? It sort of sounds like you don’t want to have sex with me.” She shook her head and laughed. “No, that’s not right. I love having sex with you. But there might be a balance that would be good for us. And I’d like to see what that looks like.” “A balance? Between what?” She pursed her lips and stared at him hard. “Between you coming every night and you never coming at all. If you come every day, you are a little happy really often, but we might not get as much out of our relationship as we could. I would have to work harder around here, and might resent you not contributing as much.” He looked concerned, then smiled a little. “Well, part of that sounded pretty good…what if I just tried harder around the apartment?” Julie patted him on the cheek, giving him a wry smile. “I bet that sounds good to you. But not as good as it could be. If you come only some of the time, your pleasure will be greater when you do come—right?—and in the meantime life will be better for me. And when you don’t come, maybe we can have fun like we did tonight.” He sat there, pondering her words. She gave him a moment to think about this. “Now, I care for you a lot, and I want you to enjoy sex as much as I do. But I also want what’s best for us together, and I think we owe it to ourselves to see if that could work. So this week, while I’m out of action, you’re going to be out of action as well.” He looked at her, alarmed. “Like, all week? I don’t–” Julie laughed, then mocked him playfully. “Yes, all week. I mean, I have to wait, right? Are you telling me you aren’t as tough as a girl?” He swallowed. “Well, I’ve never—I mean, I think it’s harder for me than for you. I’m not used to that at all.” She nodded. “Oh, I’m sure,” she said, with what might have been mock seriousness. “But I’ll make it fun for you. I mean, since it’s better for me if you wait, I’m willing to help you hold out.” “Oh, man. I don’t know if that helped me wait or not. I can’t think about anything but you right now.” Julie giggled and snuggled next to him. “Perfect. I want you thinking of me. And I don’t want you neglected, just a little…frustrated.” He smiled slightly, but…this seemed like asking a lot. “Wouldn’t just be easier—I mean, for you—if I…took matters into my own hands this week, and we could try skipping a day or two next week?” Julie sat straight up. “No, no. NO. Easier for YOU maybe, but not for me. It turns out that I love seeing you when you are a little desperate, and I do NOT want you playing with your little thing.” She again made him look her in the eyes. “Please tell me you understand. No jerking off. This is very important to me.” He looked down. It was very clear what Julie wanted. And he had learned that what she wanted, she always got. If there were more nights like this, it could be fun. He might even get to see what else was in that duffel bag. He looked into her eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.” She beamed. “That’s my good boy. You’ll see that good things come to those who wait,” she said suggestively, and patted the front of his diaper. She felt him twitch inside, and she liked it. “Now let’s get some sleep.” Chapter 22 That week was difficult. From that night onward, he couldn’t think of anything except Julie. Having sex with Julie, have Julie play with him some more, doing all sorts of things to her. But he was taped up tightly inside of his diaper, and he couldn’t touch himself. He wasn’t really ever out of her presence for more than a few moments. She seemed to be around him almost all the time. Even when he showered, she was in the bathroom just on the other side of the frosted glass of the shower. He couldn’t jerk off if he wanted to. And he wanted to. Kind of. But it was also undeniably fun to go through the week with Julie teasing and taunting him. During the day she would pat his diaper and make double entendres that her sons could not possibly catch. And at bedtime, the scarves came out. She didn’t use other toys, but she did use some kind of slippery liquid, and drive him nearly crazy. She would push him to the brink, then back off, then repeat. He would be sweating within minutes, but could not do anything about it. He had no idea how she knew how to get him that close. He got so crazy that he tried to thrust into her hand. She would laugh and move her hand just out of the way. She seemed heartless, except that it obviously took a lot of time and effort for her. And it wasn’t like she was getting any relief either. He tried to remember that. Every day, he had difficulty thinking of anything other than Julie and her torture sessions. He hated them, but wanted them at the same time. He had nothing he could do with his energy. It was such a weird feeling to be so wound up without the ability to do anything about it. Every comment, every look was charged with sexual tension. Julie could see it in his eyes, and was smiling at him constantly, which, in turn, drove him even crazier. He tried to keep himself busy. When he could, he would clean their apartment. When she would let him, he would rub her feet or shoulders. Her touch became electric to him, somehow, and this was a form of magic he could not understand. Was it really hormonal? Maybe she knew things about the human body that he, as a doctor, did not. Regardless, he longed to have her near, maybe more than usual. He was conflicted about whether he thought this experiment was something he wanted to continue. At times he felt like he was flying, but he longed almost constantly to come. Or for her to touch him. Both? He wasn’t even sure anymore—his feelings and wants and needs were muddled together into a complex knot of energy. On Saturday night, she changed his diaper, then tied him to the bed as before. She untaped and pulled down his diaper. Then she lightly stroked him until he was hard and starting to breathe faster. But then she disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the shower start. Seriously? NOW she showered, while he couldn’t move? He passed the time thinking of how good things were going to be once her period was finished. He imagined taking her over the bed, or in the kitchen, or on the sofa. Not that any of that would likely happen, as Julie had definite preferences and usually liked to be in control. But he could still imagine what it would be like to be the one who decided when and how they had sex. But when she was in control, that was incredibly sexy too, wasn’t it? He pictured her smile when she signaled it was time to fool around. He felt her hands on his diaper. Now, the simple act of untaping his diaper made him hard. He had never been on the bottom during sex before he met Julie, and since then he had never been on top. That was odd, he supposed, but he had grown to love looking up at her, her face lost in pleasure, her breasts dangling freely. The way she ground her pelvis against his, used him for her pleasure. That was so hot. If only he could touch himself right now! Suddenly the door to her bathroom opened, and Julie emerged, wearing lingerie he had not seen before. A soft pink babydoll nightie hung from her slim body, and her face showed that she knew the effect it would have on him. She glanced down at his penis, still hard, and saw it twitch hungrily. She smiled, retrieved something from the duffel bag and sat next to him on the bed. He strained at the scarves, trying to touch her with any part of his body. Suddenly she produced a blindfold and fastened it around his eyes, and all light disappeared. He immediately became aware of how she smelled, clean with soap, and a familiar, reassuring scent that made him feel close to her. He realized a moment later that he was smelling baby powder, which smelled a little different on her. He didn’t stop to think that by now, after so many weeks of use while she changed him, that it was a smell that excited him. She stroked his cheek, then ran her fingertips along his ears, tickling him deliberately. Tied and blind, he was forced to wait to see what was next. His skin felt electric, as every part of him wanted her touch. She drew her fingers down his neck, then trailed them across his chest to his nipples, which she was happy to see were hard. His sharp intake of air told her they were also sensitive. The week of chastity had apparently charged his body with an insane amount of energy. This was better than she had hoped for. Whether or not he wanted to repeat this experiment, she thought, didn’t really matter. She would now be controlling his orgasm frequency. But she thought she could probably convince him it was a good idea over the next few minutes. She pinched his nipples gently, eliciting gasps. She leaned down and touched one with her tongue. His body became rigid. She played it back and forth and he didn’t move a muscle. She nibbled it a little and she felt him squirm, then buck a bit as she started to suck. He had no idea his nipples could feel like that. It was mostly like tickling, and they were so sensitive. He couldn’t move out of the way, and had to wait for her to tire of it. Finally she relented, leaving him panting. His erection had softened, but stiffened again as he felt her hands play down his abdomen. His skin tightened and relaxed under her touch. As her soft fingers approached his waist, his body became more and more tense. Without realizing it, his breathing had quickened. She noticed, however. She also noticed the clear liquid forming at the tip of his hard penis. She smiled. Bending over, so her mouth was next to his ear, she whispered, “Why are you so sensitive, my love? I’ve never seen you like this.” Her fingers danced around his lower abdomen. Nearly panting now, he croaked, “It’s been so long.” He was waiting for her hand to move closer to his throbbing penis. But instead it stroked upward again, right to his belly button. He gasped. “Oh, please, Julie!” She laughed. “Oh, begging? Wow. I have got you worked up. This is special.” As a reward, she moved her hand closer to him, brushing her fingers over the tip of his penis. He nearly choked. She took it in her hand, shifting it upward, and gave him several soft pets on the underside. And it was too much. Too much time, too much anticipation, too much teasing over the week. She watched as ejaculate shot up into the air and back down again onto his stomach, surprised more than anything that so little direct contact could set this off. She wasn’t even touching him at this point. He was moaning and bucking his hips involuntarily into the air. As his orgasm passed, he whimpered quietly. Julie watched, fascinated, then started laughing once she realized what had happened. She had heard of ruined orgasms, but hadn’t ever seen one. She certainly hadn’t ever caused one. What did she hear about them? That they didn’t feel as good, but that they also didn’t cause a refractory period. It was sort of like a practice orgasm, right? She would find out. She was hungry tonight and didn’t want to be done! “I’m so sorry,” he gasped, nearly in tears. “I couldn’t control it! I…I…” “Shh, baby, you’re okay,” she soothed, using a tissue to wipe up what she could off his belly and nearby sheets. He’d be doing some laundry tomorrow, apparently. “We’re not stopping there. I think you’ve got more in you.” His breathing slowed. She got down close to his waist and breathed on his slightly softened manhood. She licked it a bit. She tickled it. It didn’t take long to stand right back up, gently bobbing with his heart beat. She smiled and climbed onto his chest, facing his head, and scooted closer to his blindfolded face. Time for her to reap the first carnal profits from the week’s efforts. He had been panicked when he’d come just now. He knew he was done for a while, and couldn’t believe the week had ended with such an embarrassing display. It was a different kind of accident than he usually had, and, like his wet accidents, had been watched by Julie. He was relieved when she was able to conjure another erection from him so quickly. Maybe that was because he’d been so deprived all week? He had no frame of reference to understand the week’s events. But he was humiliated by his premature discharge, and when Julie presented herself to his mouth, he was eager to prove himself to her. She could tell. And she was ready. He licked his way to 3 consecutive orgasms in short order. Between them, Julie reached a hand back to keep him primed, but it wasn’t difficult. Neither of them had ever been so excited and in sync. Julie decided it was time for the grand finale, and lowered herself down onto him teasingly. This second time, he was able to last a satisfyingly long time, and they both came together, sweaty and exhausted. Later, once he had been untied and rediapered, they snuggled together in bed. “Well?” Julie asked him. “…How was that?” He exhaled heavily. “Whew. It’s never been like that.” She smiled. “I know. Here’s a hint for the future: don’t ever doubt me.” He laughed. “I promise. I’ve learned that.” After a moment he said, “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You seem to get your way most of the time, don’t you?” Julie chuckled. “Well, I would hope so.” She traced circles on his chest. “Now that it is over, what do you think about the results of the experiment?” He thought a bit. “Hmm. Well, this week was tough, but…good in a way. I felt frustrated, but kind of alive too.” He grunted and snorted. “Ah, it’s hard to explain.” She turned her head a little and looked at his profile in the darkness. “You were amazing this week. I want that man all the time. That is my dream!” He considered. “I can try. Might be kind of hard to sustain that.” She snorted. “Don’t worry, honey. I think I can help a little.” Intrigued, he waited for her to elaborate. When she didn’t immediately, he had to ask, “What’s that supposed to mean? How can you help? Wait—” But she was already propping herself up on her elbow to answer him, one hand now playing with his hair. “It seems like you thrive on fewer orgasms, babe. There will be a little rationing program from here on out.” Now he sat up sharply. “Now, wait. This was a fun game this week, but—” She looked at him in the murky moonlight shining in through their window. “But, what? This was the best sex ever. And it followed a week of relationship bliss for me. Sorry, not giving that up.” She laid back down. “But—” “That would be a really good place for you to leave this discussion,” Julie advised him. “I’ve had a lovely night, and I don’t want to ruin it with an argument.” She turned over. “You think about it tonight. If you come up with any good arguments why you should deprive me of such a loving partner and productive roommate, let me know tomorrow. For now, sleep! Love you.” She closed her eyes, and he was left to consider her words. The next day around the apartment, he was still considering. He was torn. He had felt truly elated toward the end of the week, and last night had been spectacular. But he was still a young man. Sex was his stress relief and had always been his decision. This relationship had changed so much for him—was he ready to give up control of his sex life as well? But there was only so far that masturbation could take him. He’d been dealing with the stress of a single man’s life. It was different now. He had someone. Someone who loved him and cared for him in ways he still couldn’t wrap his mind around. He felt nurtured and complete. He hadn’t known he’d been missing that. He loved it. He’d always assumed he’d have to make some compromises in a relationship. But he’d thought that frequent sex had been part of the perks of the deal. Did it make sense, as Julie had said, to sacrifice quantity for quality? He considered. Any orgasm was pretty fantastic, after all. But he’d never had a night like last night…. Today he felt different. He felt irritable. That high was gone. Because he’d had sex last night? He didn’t know. Was it worth testing out again? Maybe just with Julie’s next period. He was wiping the counter after lunch, deep in thought, when he became aware of Julie’s voice. But he’d missed what she’d said. “What?” he asked distractedly. She regarded him grimly. “Hmmm. This is how you act after you get sex. Not even aware of me, not listening. Is THAT really the argument you want to make for yourself?” He hurried to apologize. “I was just thinking about last week,” he explained. She raised an eyebrow. “And? What’s your best case for free-range orgasms?” His face fell. “I don’t know. I liked how I felt during the week. I just don’t know if I can do it all the time.” She came close. “Sweetie, you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. And we’ll have plenty of sex. You just won’t have as many orgasms.” Her hand caressed his face. He was suddenly aware that her touch was not quite as electric as it had been only yesterday. What the fuck?! “Tell you what,” she was saying, studying him closely. “We both need to be on board with this for it to work. I mean, I could just decide, of course, but I want you to be supportive, too. “Let’s try it for a month. Just let me be in charge of when you get to come. I’m not going to be mean. I think you know that. Right?” He tried to meet her gaze. Damn, it was hard for him to have an adult conversation with a fully dressed woman when he was wearing a diaper and a onesie. “I know. I’m just…nervous.” She nodded, trying to divine his thoughts. “Scary to give up control, isn’t it?” “Yes,” he confessed. “The thing is, I think you might be right about this. But I like being able to have a say in this.” Julie took his hand and said to him, “Sweetheart, you are a spectacular doctor and a good man. But in our relationship, there are a few things that I have taken ownership of. And I haven’t been wrong yet, correct?” He knew he couldn’t hesitate here, even if he still had reservations about never being allowed to use the potty. “No, Ma’am,” he agreed. “Right,” she said. “This is another of those things. Remember that I get jurisdiction of—” and here she indicated his thighs—”about here”—and then moved her hand up to his waist—“to here, right?” She grinned at him. “That’s all I get. I take care of your diapers and your orgasms. You get everything else.” He nodded slowly. It didn’t sound significant, but…it was, wasn’t it? “Wait,” he said, drawing her into an embrace. “Aren’t we partners? What part of you do I get to control?” Julie smiled at him playfully. He thought he had her there. But she wouldn’t have brought it up if she didn’t have an answer to that question. “You control my heart, doctor. That’s the most important organ in the human body, isn’t it?” He sighed. It was hopeless. How was it that he had gone to medical school but couldn’t win a single argument with his nurse? Maybe he should have gone to law school. “So let’s try it for a month, okay, babe?” Julie chirped cheerfully. “I’ll make it worth your while…” Her hand tickled his belly, tracing the upper border of his diaper. “Yes, Ma’am.” Julie paused. “Speaking of trusting me, I’ve…got some…news. Tomorrow morning I’m covering a shift at the nursing home for my friend Hannah. She’s going away this weekend. We’d set this up months ago, before you lived here, and before–” she indicated his diapers–”all this.” He nodded. He knew she had worked at the home before his office. He’d never met Hannah, though. Julie was looking at him, like he was supposed to be understanding something important. “It’s a shift that starts at 6 tomorrow morning, until 2:30 in the afternoon. It’s a Saturday. You won’t be up yet.” His eyes widened. His morning routine. First thing in the morning–he’d have a very wet diaper, and then…he’d have a messy diaper. “Oh…” She nodded grimly. “I tried to get out of it, but I can’t find anyone else to cover. I have to do it. So…I asked my mom to come over to help out with the boys…and everything.” He paled. “Julie, I can’t–” She clasped his face in between her warm palms. “Of course you can, baby. My mom knows all about you and your schedule, and she’ll be expecting to change a dirty diaper. It’s fine. She’ll be professional and efficient, just like I was at the beginning. After you get that out of the way, you’ll be old friends, I’m sure,” she said, smiling at him. “This is just like everything else. You’ll need to trust me. There is no need to be overly embarrassed about your poops. Get over it.” She turned to leave the room, then turned back. He was still frozen to the spot, unable to move. “And by the way, this is obviously a fairly big favor she is doing us both, so I expect you to be as polite and helpful to her as you are for me. Be a VERY good boy tomorrow. I don’t want to get a bad report from her about your behavior.” He stood there for several minutes after she left the room. His girlfriend had arranged for her mother to change his messy diaper tomorrow–had essentially decided he needed a babysitter, that he couldn’t be trusted to take care of the boys, or himself, for a few hours on a weekend. He had been fully demoted to being a toddler in Julie’s house, without any autonomy or decision-making ability. He didn’t know whether to be more embarrassed or offended by the situation. They went to a park during the afternoon, then he had some clinical work to do online. By bedtime, he hadn’t figured out how to change his fate the next day. Not surprisingly, Julie was not in the mood for sex. She’d hinted as much earlier when she’d noticed his inattentiveness. After changing him, she was instead buzzing around the bedroom picking out the things she needed to wear in the morning. He watched her nervously from the bed, freshly taped into a clean, thick nighttime diaper. “What if we use the morning as an audition for me to show you how self-sufficient I can be? I’m sure I can change myself. And it’s low stakes. I’m not going anywhere during the day, so if I leak, big deal–” Julie had taken her clothes into her bathroom so she could get dressed in the morning without bothering him. “I think that if we decide to try that, I want to be home for it. Tomorrow is not the day for experiments.” She turned out the bathroom light and climbed into bed with him. “But if–” “Baby, that’s enough. I told you, Mom knows all about your diapers, and is expecting to change you after breakfast.” He reddened all over again, thinking about how that conversation must have gone. “But–” “I know you are stressed about it, baby, but she has changed poopy diapers before. It’s already been decided. Please remember your manners, okay?” She waited for him to answer. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “But Julie, I–” “Please no more. I need you to be a big helper tomorrow. Andrew and Thomas can be a handful at times, and it would be nice if you are around to lend a hand. I need to get some rest now. I do love you!” she yawned, and turned over before he could respond. He wasn’t surprised that she had shut him down. This was the kind of discussion that wasn’t really a discussion. But he was dreading the morning. Sleep did not come easily to him. He tossed and turned for more than an hour, imagining having to go to Mrs. Davis with a loaded diaper and ask her to change him. He imagined her face as she smelled his mess. He imagined their new relationship as babysitter and toddler. Suddenly he thought of an idea. If he could wake up super early and have his breakfast and coffee before Julie had left, maybe she could change him. What time would that be? She had to be at the home by six, so 4:30 should do it, right? That was early, but it reminded him of residency days. He could do it, and catch up on his sleep tomorrow night. He set his alarm, an old digital clock on his side of the bed. He relaxed a bit, happy that he had come up with the workaround he needed, and was finally able to fall asleep. Chapter 23 He awoke to a bright bedroom and the sounds of dishes and happy boys in the kitchen. He was disoriented. Drawn by the smell of coffee, he groggily got up and padded into the kitchen wearing nothing but his diaper and onesie. He froze in the doorway when he saw Mrs. Davis sitting at the table with Andrew and Thomas. She looked up and saw him, a surprised hint of a smile on her face. Oh, shit, he thought. It was Sunday, and Mrs. Davis was here babysitting. But– What had happened? Why hadn’t his alarm awakened him? Rather than engage, he quickly backed away and entered the bedroom. He went to the alarm, which was switched to the “off” position. Had he imagined turning it on? Or had Julie turned it off? Well, crap, this was a nightmare. He should–maybe he– He heard Julie’s voice in his head. “I don’t want a bad report…” He knew he didn’t have a choice, and his heart sank. He wanted to make Julie happy, even if it was embarrassing for him. He swallowed hard, a feeling of dread settle over him. But maybe he could wear pants over his diaper for Mrs. Davis? She probably didn’t know about that little rule, right? He tried and failed to get his jeans over his swollen nighttime diaper, so he went with some sweatpants. He didn’t like the way they bulged, but it was better than just the onesie. He waddled out again to the kitchen. Mrs. Davis and the boys were still sitting at the table, Thomas explaining to his grandmother the difference between two little action figures he had with him. Mrs. Davis glanced over at him as he entered, but to his relief, didn’t say anything about his sweats. He noticed a steaming cup of coffee at the empty chair, and he sat down there. Thomas paused to take a breath, and Mrs. Davis took the opportunity to ask how many pancakes he’d like. Pancakes! This was a treat. “Um, three, please?” he asked. And then Thomas had to show him his little figures and tell him about the story they had been playing before breakfast. Andrew tried hard to add what he thought were important elements to the story as well. It was charming, and he found it hard to be anxious or embarrassed during the meal. Mrs. Davis helped them down from the table when they were finished, and they scampered off to continue playing in the living room. “Julie was never quite so into those action figures when she was little. She played and had quite the imagination though.” Mrs. Davis smiled at the thought. He was taken back to his own childhood and realized that he did have little guys he played with. “Maybe it’s a boy thing? I had little superheroes and dinosaurs that were part of my adventures.” Mrs. Davis was gazing at him, a pensive smile on her face. “I bet you were an adorable little boy. Kids grow up too fast, don’t they?” He mumbled his agreement. He hadn’t been a parent, but he knew this was something all parents said. Mrs. Davis stood up and cleared the dishes. “I’m so glad you are part of Julie’s life. She seems so happy now.” She brought him another cup of coffee, which he accepted. “She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said honestly. “Even–” He’d been about to say, “Even with the diapers,” but then realized that would be way too awkward. He tried to complete a reasonable sentence. “Even though stepping into this family was kind of unexpected. Those boys scared me at first. Now I can’t imagine life without them,” he told her. She sat back down. “That must be a tough thing to do, jumping into their lives like that. But they clearly love you. To them, you are a part of this family,” she said, smiling. “And thank goodness. They need someone male around here. I’ve seen you down on the floor, wrestling with them. They just adore it.” He smiled at the thought. They were like little bear cubs sometimes, crawling on him. He noticed they did treat him differently than they treated Julie. He felt like he was contributing something, and it was nice. “Well,” she said. “I definitely don’t mean to pressure you, so don’t take this that way, but you fit well into this family. We’d be happy to have you more permanently, if it works out for you and Julie.” He swallowed. He’d thought about that, of course. How could he not? Julie was the best person he’d ever met. She nurtured everyone she met, and would make a solid partner. He was deeply in love with her. But…he’d always thought the man was supposed to be in charge. He’d never felt entirely comfortable with that, and had instinctively imagined an equal partnership in a relationship. But his relationship with Julie was not either of those things. She was definitely in charge, and as educated as his was, it still embarrassed him a little. She said she claimed ownership over only a few things, and they did discuss and debate things together. She listened to him. His opinion mattered. But he harbored no doubts about what would happen if there was a stalemate and a decision needed to be made. At work, he was the boss. And he made a thousand decisions every day that affected big parts of people’s health. So in some ways it was a relief to cede decision-making control to Julie when they left work. He thought he could live with that decision permanently, especially as his trust in her and love for her grew. But it was still a leap. He wasn’t sure if he was ready. But what else did he need to know? She loved him, and was willing to take care of even the most intimate (and disgusting!) parts of him. She was weird in some ways, but wasn’t everyone? But would he always have to wear diapers? It seemed– All of a sudden he became aware of Mrs. Davis studying him. He’d gotten lost in his thoughts. “Ahem. That is very kind, Mrs. Davis. You have raised a wonderful daughter. She is…kind, and generous, and caring.” Mrs. Davis smiled. “Yes, Julie is a natural nurse, isn’t she? She has always known what she wants, and usually does a good job going after it. I’ve tried to teach her some secrets about that, of course. Tried to help her make good decisions. She is a little stubborn, but it is usually about the right things. There was only one time she got lost.” “Her ex-husband? She’s mentioned something about that, but we haven’t talked in much detail.” Mrs. Davis got up from the table. “Well, it isn’t my story to tell, of course. You could ask her. We could see potential trouble, but she wanted to believe. In the end it worked out okay, but it was hard. I think it changed her, of course. It had to.” She rinsed plates in the sink, then turned around and apparently caught sight of the boys in the other room. “And, of course we got some wonderful gifts from that terrible relationship. And speaking of them, would you mind keeping an eye on them for a few minutes while I clean up?” He was done with breakfast and coffee. “Yes, ma’am. Happy to help.” He stood up and became more self-conscious again about his soaking wet diaper. It was hard to walk naturally in it when it was this wet. If Mrs. Davis noticed, she didn’t say anything. He felt grateful for that. He waddled out to the living room. The boys were deeply engrossed in a story with their little action figures, the coffee table featuring prominently in one of them becoming lost. At his appearance, they rushed to update him on the situation. He expressed appropriate concern to them so they’d keep playing. At the same time he felt that familiar pressure start to build in his lower abdomen. For a few moments during breakfast, he had wondered if he could avoid having Mrs. Davis change a messy diaper, but that wasn’t going to happen. He thought about asking her if she would mind letting him use the potty. Maybe she wouldn’t want to change him and could see the advantage in that? But what if she told Julie? He thought back to trying to sleep with his bottom burning. Even avoiding the embarrassment of having Mrs. Davis change a messy diaper, of her knowing he pooped in his diaper, wasn’t worth that chance. As if reading his mind, she appeared in the doorway. “Can you give me a few more minutes to get some things ready for you boys? Then we can take care of changing some nighttime diapers.” “Yes, ma’am, it’s no problem,” he responded agreeably, but noticed the wording. “You boys.” While they had had an adult conversation, his diaper also meant he belonged to the “babysat” contingent, not the “babysitting” side. A cramp hit. It was time. And within a few moments, he had pushed out a load into his diaper. At least she wasn’t here to witness that. Maybe she had thoughtfully left him alone to give him a little dignity? He could smell himself now, but the little guys were typically oblivious. They’d found the lost character, but now a book-shaped monster was threatening them. Mrs. Davis re-entered the room, surveying the males with hands on her hips. She looked first to the little ones, who were so deeply engrossed they didn’t notice her. Her eyes turned to him, and cheerfully said, “I think they’ll be okay for a few minutes. Your diaper is hanging pretty low. How about if we take care of you first?” He swallowed and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, thank you.” She smiled. “I love your manners,” she said, as he passed her on the way to the bedroom. He entered the bedroom and saw the changing pad laid out on the bed, and wipes, powder, and a new diaper awaiting him as well. He paused, suddenly acutely embarrassed about what was to happen. But Mrs. Davis swept into the room behind him. “Whew. It smells like you need a change, too,” she said, smiling. “Why don’t you get those pants off and lie down on the bed? That’s how Julie does it, right?” “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, as he took off his sweats, centered himself on the pad, and laid back. “I’m so sorry you have to do this. I told Julie I was more than capable–” “Oh, hush,” Mrs. Davis said. “It’s no trouble.” She reached down to unsnap his onesie. “I don’t even need a diaper for…well, this. But she really wants me to use it all the time, and she doesn’t like me using the bathroom. She won’t really tell me why,” he said, aware that he was talking to quell the embarrassment. He wanted her to know it wasn’t his idea, and that he wasn’t a complete invalid. Mrs. Davis had untaped his diaper. “Shh, I know.” She wiped his penis, cleaning his front quickly and efficiently. “Can you lift your legs now?” she asked. He grabbed his knees and pulled them open as Julie had taught him. “Perfect,” he heard. “Julie has taught you well.” She pulled the diaper away from him and used it to clean him, front to back. “And she keeps you so well shaved. Very nice.” He was sure his face was bright red from the burning he felt in his cheeks. “Julie told me that you don’t like to poop in your diaper. She said you need the diapers because you wet your pants, but that it is just easier to keep you in diapers the whole time. Is that what she told you?” she went on, reaching over to get a wipe. He nodded, deciding not to argue about whether he routinely wet his pants. “Yes, ma’am. It’s–well, it’s obviously just so embarrassing, but she doesn’t want to debate it. I can’t imagine it is easier for her. Or pleasant for that matter,” he noted, feeling the familiar coldness of the wipe clean his bottom. It made him clench his sphincter; that was always a little shock to his system. But it warmed up quickly. Mrs. Davis was obviously experienced. She was fast, too! She smiled grimly. “That’s my girl. I can’t speak for her, but sometimes there are hidden reasons for an action that help explain it.” Mrs. Davis rolled the diaper up. “Okay, lift a little?” He felt the diaper removed and watched her tape up the dirty diaper and set it aside. She looked pensive. She opened the new diaper, seemingly considering something. “I guess I can tell you,” she decided. “Okay, up again?” She slid the diaper under him. “Did you know that I keep her father in diapers?” His eyes widened. He was stunned. What?!! Of course he didn’t know. He’d never met the man. ‘Kept him in diapers?’ “What? Why? What’s wrong?” She sighed. “Well, nothing, other than he’s a man.” He instinctively let his legs fall apart so she could powder him, which she did liberally. He blinked, confused. “A man? What does that have to do with it?” She brushed off her hands and pulled the diaper up between his legs. She considered her words. “I…have found…that he is a better husband and was a better father when he was dependent on me for…his…bathroom needs. So, long story short, that is how we have always done it. For decades now.” He was stunned. That was truly bizarre! But–very similar to his and Julie’s arrangement. Mrs. Davis pulled down the front of his onesie. “Julie said you can wait to get a shower until later when she is home, so if it is okay with you, we’ll wait to get you new clothes, too.” He hardly cared at this point. “That’s fine with me. Thanks. But–so–” She nodded and started snapping his onesie. “Yes, so that is the parental model Julie had growing up. We have a wonderful relationship, so she probably internalized and, what’s the term? Idealized it.” Mrs. Davis put away the wipes and powder. She smiled at him. “So, you see, it doesn’t surprise me to see your arrangement. And I know it doesn’t reflect on you or mean that you can’t take care of yourself. You are a good man, and you listen to your girlfriend. That’s all. And I can’t tell you how much that means to me. So thank you.” He sat up, overwhelmed. How much of their arrangement was him, or the need to be efficient at work, and how much was just the way Julie had been brought up? He had so many questions, and so many new things to consider. Mrs. Davis, however, had moved on. “Okay, well, I’ve got to get out and take care of Andrew and Thomas now before they leak. I’m not sure what you’ve got to do this morning, but you are welcome to play with us. I’ve got some crafts, and I think we’ll probably head out for a walk once it warms up.” He nodded, distracted. But he remembered to be polite. “Thank you. I’ve got some little things to do, but I’m happy to come along and help out where I can.” Mrs. Davis left the room. He was stunned, but some pieces certainly did fall into place. Why Julie had thought his wearing diapers would be a reasonable solution, why she wasn’t embarrassed about it. But did she think he needed to be a “better” boyfriend? What had he done wrong to make her think that? She hadn’t even known what he was like as a boyfriend before he wore diapers for her. Why hadn’t she ever told him about this? The rest of the morning passed quickly. He worked a little, then played with the boys to give Mrs. Davis a break. She asked him once before lunch if he needed a change. “No, ma’am,” he said. “I don’t think so.” He wasn’t too surprised when she came over and prodded his diaper to confirm. She nodded. “I agree. You’ll last a while. Carry on.” The morning with Mrs. Davis had gone well, for all of his worrying. She, like Julie, was matter-of-fact about the diaperings. She hadn’t belittled him, just treated it like a fact of life. He was grateful to her for that, even if she sometimes lumped him in with the little boys at times. They enjoyed a nice lunch, then had a walk. The boys were changed and put down for a nap. Mercifully, there was no talk of napping for him. He was reading a medical journal when he became aware of Mrs. Davis tidying up. He looked at the clock. It was mid-afternoon, time for Julie to come home. Her gaze fell upon him, and she paused. “Let’s get you changed into a nice dry diaper before Julie comes home.” He protested, “I’m not that wet, I can wait.” Sure, Mrs. Davis was kind and professional about the whole thing, but did he constantly have to be on his back around these women? Besides, he was right in the middle of an article about– She shook her head. “You boys would go all day in a wet diaper if you could. No, it’s not nice for her to come home to a wet diaper. Let’s go. We’ll get you dry and comfortable.” He opened his mouth again, but realized Julie’s mom had made up her mind. Decisive women ran in the family, apparently. He followed Mrs. Davis back into the bedroom and sat on the bed while she rummaged around for the supplies. “Okay, lie back,” she said as her hands went to his onesie again. “I love this fabric. So playful. Julie has turned into quite a seamstress. I’ll have to look around for more patterns for her. Just adorable.” He was a little alarmed at this. “Um, do you think you could put in a plug for something more, um, grown-up? You know, normal colors or something?” She had untaped him and was wiping him already. “Oh, but these are adorable. A onesie should be cute and child-like. But it wouldn’t hurt to have more variety. You probably need a ‘good boy’ onesie with trucks and footballs, and then one for when you need to be taken down a peg.” His eyes bulged. Where was this going? She had unfolded the new diaper. “Up–there you go. Tell me, how would you feel about a nice pink onesie with unicorns and princesses on it?” He choked. “No! Please! Why would I want that?” She smiled as she taped him up. “Ooh, struck a nerve with that one, huh? I’ll make sure to find a nice girly one to use as a punishment onesie. You don’t have one of those yet, right? For after a spanking?” He was speechless. How did she know about–had Julie told her everything? He just stared at her in embarrassment. She smiled as his cheeks burned. “I’m her mother. Of course we talk.” She cleaned up, disposed of the wet diaper, and snapped him back up. “Well, I’ve got some homework to do, apparently. Gotta get on that.” She went into Julie’s bathroom to wash her hands. He needed to talk to Julie about this onesie thing, and about talking to her mother about their most private– Just then he heard the front door open, so he set aside those thoughts and hurriedly waddled out of the bedroom. Julie was arriving home. She put her purse down on the counter and took in the sight of him entering the kitchen in his onesie. She smiled. “How’s my big boy? How was your day?” He opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say that sounded like what a boyfriend might say, not a child. Most of the day had been spent worrying about diapers, then privacy about onesies and spankings. But Mrs. Davis walked into the kitchen. Julie turned to her mother, eyebrows raised. “Everything go okay today, Mom?” Her mother smiled. “Of course, honey. All of your boys were well behaved, and you have a keeper in this one,” she said, indicating him. He blushed. Julie came over to him and put her arms around him fondly. “Oh, yeah? He didn’t give you too much trouble?” Mrs. Davis smiled and put on her jacket. “Trouble? Of course not. We got to know each other, and he was a big help with the boys.” She picked up her purse. “But I do hope it is the regular time tomorrow. This was an early morning.” Julie said, “Yep, that sounds good. I’m sure that was rough on everybody,” she added, giving him a look. “Let me walk you out, Mom.” When Julie returned, she surveyed the apartment. Perhaps awakened by the door closing repeatedly, the boys sleepily toddled out of their room. Seeing their mother, they broke into a run and gave her a big hug around her legs. “Oh, that’s what I needed after being at work on a Sunday!” she exclaimed, squatting down and letting the boys kiss and hug her. “Anyone need a change?” Andrew and Thomas submitted to having their diapers checked, but Julie found them clean and (mostly) dry. She turned to him. “How about you, mister?” Her hand cupped his crotch, though her eyes didn’t leave his. Her eyebrows rose. “A completely dry diaper?” “Just changed,” he explained shyly. Julie’s face showed surprise. She hadn’t expected him to need more than his morning change. “Your mom insisted.” She smiled. “She can be convincing.” She stood and gave him a deep kiss, ignoring her sons trying to get her attention. “Thank you for being such a good boy.” Then she turned to the kids. “Show me what you guys did today!” Chapter 24 He made supper for the family, which she appreciated after a day at work. The boys had asked for spaghetti, and, luckily, he could boil water. After Andrew and Thomas went to bed, he and Julie sat and talked on the sofa. “Mom said you didn’t put up any fuss at all today. Aren’t you big!” she said, stroking his hair fondly. He dropped his eyes. “Your mom was very kind. It was horribly embarrassing. But she was nice about it.” “Oh, good. I told you it would be fine.” Time to get some answers. He gathered his courage and asked, “Did you turn off my alarm? I’d set it so I could–um, say goodbye to you this morning.” She snorted. “I know why you set it, you goof. Yes, I turned it off. You need your weekend sleep. And apparently, just like I’d promised, it turned out just fine. You remember that next time you second-guess me.” He nodded. It still would have been better his way. On to the big revelation of the day. “You never told me that your dad wears diapers. Your mom says she thinks that’s why you don’t let me use your bathroom.” She paused, her eyebrows raised. “Did she now?” He sat up a little, looking at her fully. “Didn’t you think I’d like to know that? That I might find it relevant?” This time it was Julie who broke eye contact. She looked down for a moment, then back to him. “Yes, I know. It was just–it was just hard for me to find a way to explain. I realize you might be interested in that.” She thought for a moment. “I never knew my father before their…arrangement. He was always in diapers, and I grew up thinking it was common. He was never embarrassed in front of me, just matter-of-fact. I assumed he needed them,” she told him. “It wasn’t until I got married that Mom confessed it had nothing to do with medical need. She explained that Dad seemed more, um, devoted to her when she kept him in diapers. It wasn’t that he was abusive or mean. He was a good man, she said. But–he just seemed more present and emotionally available to her when he used diapers instead of the potty. “She decided that, for them, their relationship would be better if he stayed in diapers. He later agreed, apparently. He needed them, but not for a physical reason. He needed them to be the best husband and father he could be.” Julie’s eyes dropped again. “My marriage was terrible. I know I haven’t talked much about it. I don’t like to think about it. I thought I knew what I wanted in a man. Let’s just say, I was young then. It probably would have been better if I had an arrangement like my parents had, but…he…wouldn’t consider it. “Our relationship was terrible, even with two little babies. Maybe worse because of that, I don’t know. When I told him I wanted to try diapering him, I knew how it would go down. And it was predictably bad. He told me I was a freak. It’s not the only reason we got a divorce, but it might have sped the process a little.” She smiled grimly. “And that was okay with me. I’d given him an ultimatum, and he chose divorce. In retrospect, that was definitely the better option.” He reached out to her, his hand on hers. “I’m sorry you had to go through that marriage. But–I’m trying to understand how I’m–why you wanted me to–ugh, I don’t know. We weren’t in a relationship at the time. Were you thinking we should be? Do I remind you of your ex-husband in some way?” She laughed. “No, sweetie. I put you in a diaper because you needed it. We really did need to work better together.” She looked at him fondly. “But you can see why it seemed, oh, I don’t know, like, reasonable. You looked at me like I was crazy,” she said. “But it wasn’t weird to me. Just what I grew up with.” He sat next to her, in thought. This explained a lot, actually. Why an adult wearing a diaper wasn’t bizarre to her. Why it was the first solution she had thought of at work. Why she still thought he was datable even though she had changed his dirty diapers. He felt relieved that she didn’t think of him the same way as her ex-husband. But she rose now, apparently done with the conversation. “Let’s go to bed now. I had an early morning, you know.” Later as they snuggled together in bed, they were each lost in their own thoughts. Julie, satisfied from 2 orgasms he had given her, was pondering how lucky she felt. She had entered this relationship attracted but wary, wondering if she could persuade a physician to give up ultimate control to her. She hadn’t been been able to assume they’d have a personal relationship necessarily, but was just looking for a bigger say in her professional career. But she had fallen in love with his gentle and naïve openness, his willingness to follow her lead, which encouraged her to push him further down an unknown road. Now, that road seemed even more inviting and promising. She had been leery of another relationship, honestly, but this was on her terms. Her mother had shown her the way. He was under her thumb in such a personal and total way that she felt completely secure. She was delighted that he was actually diaper dependent, which was not something she’d known to expect. Her father, apparently, was not. But this development meant that she could be supportive and helpful, not pushy and controlling, and still keep his infantile side front and center. And while she had thought the diapers would be the key to keeping him humble and well controlled, now she realized that she had unintentionally stumbled upon another big key, never mentioned by Mom. Controlling orgasms was clearly more powerful than she had expected, and seemed to work well with the diapers. They kept his hands out of trouble. The longer he went without an orgasm, the more obedient and eager to serve he became, and the less likely he was to complain about the diapers. It was a perfect system! If he thought that this month of orgasm control was going to end, he would be surprised. She had heard of chastity cages; if he put up any kind of fuss, he would find himself locked in a cage inside of a diaper. A part of her almost hoped he balked at following her lead on this, but she also knew it would be better if he was invested in making it work. So she would have to make it fun for him, even if his sex life was changing forever… And hers was, too. She hadn’t known how much she liked the gentle domination that had evolved, but it worked for her! Yet another reason they’d never go back to him being in control. She considered the path ahead. She thought she had done a good job preserving his ego—a critical challenge with any man. She didn’t want him to be completely emasculated, just deferential to her. She had laid down the law, and he had accepted. He was getting more and more dependent on her, and yet remained the efficient, caring provider she had loved. He wasn’t going to cheat on her, she felt sure: as perfect a mate as he had turned into, wearing diapers probably made him less appealing to others. She had made him more attractive to her and less of a catch for others. He was the perfect partner, and he was all hers! She couldn’t be happier. “Baby, you still awake?” she asked quietly. He was. He was simply thinking about his unfulfilled sexual need. It was true that Julie had played with him a little, but she had decided he wasn’t going to cum tonight. She didn’t seem mad at him, so he guessed that it was just to keep him frustrated. “Yes, ma’am,” she heard him murmur. It was starting to give her a little sexual thrill to hear him say that. She cleared her throat. “I have a confession to make.” “Oh?” He’d been getting drowsy, but this roused him a little. She turned toward him in bed, and she reached out to caress his face. “I kind of like this.” He was confused. “Like what?” She stared into his eyes. “Us. Together.” She propped herself up on her elbow. “I like you here in the apartment, with my boys. I like you, in diapers, letting me change you.” She smiled. “And I really like that you let me decide when you get to come.” He swallowed. He wasn’t so sure that would always work for him. But…this probably wasn’t the time to argue, he could see. He smiled a bit to himself. Actually, there was never a good time to argue, was there? Her hand was tickling his chest now. “We’re good together, aren’t we?” He nodded and admitted what he had known for a while now. “Yes, ma’am, we are.” Julie swallowed, a bit nervously, it seemed to him. “What would you think about making this arrangement more, um, permanent?” He was thinking about the sex. He still wasn’t sure he liked the new system…but…maybe she wasn’t just talking about the sex. “What–” Now she was looking intently into his eyes. “What would you think of getting married?” she asked. He swallowed, but his throat was suddenly dry. “Is this a proposal?” She stared for just a moment, then nodded. Her voice was suddenly kind of husky. “Yes, I think it is.” He was surprised. Wasn’t he supposed to propose? But he admitted to himself that nothing about their relationship had been conventional. He’d thought about marriage. A lot, actually, since they’d been living together. But it was a leap. Sure, it was probably always a huge step, but this…this arrangement… Julie had asked him to do all sorts of bizarre things: wear and use diapers, poop and pee in front of her, allow her to change them and dress him in babyish clothes, allow her to spank him and control his orgasms. He thought back to the first day, when she’d fixed him with that “mom” look and told him to pull his pants down so she could diaper him. It had all followed from his decision to obey her at that moment. He hadn’t felt like he’d had a choice that day. Had he ever had a choice since then. Well, it seemed like he had a choice tonight. It was all incredibly embarrassing, but it had taken him down a spectacularly intimate path. She truly didn’t seem to care about things other people found humiliating or gross. He had gone with it. If she didn’t care, why should he? After wearing diapers for a few months, he wasn’t confident he could keep his pants dry. That wasn’t good, and it was a direct consequence of following Julie’s suggestions. But if he was with Julie, it didn’t really matter, did it? He realized that nothing really bad had happened to him since they had been together, despite all of her twisted instructions. There were some difficulties with how she wanted him to live, but with her help, it was easy. In fact, after a day full of making nonstop important decisions, how nice was it to come home and not have to worry about deciding anything? And now, he had to admit, he was accustomed to wearing diapers. After so much intimate touching and teasing, the smell of baby powder gave him an erection. Her “baby” voice, the quiet soothing voice she used when changing him, made him hard. Even that stern look she gave him, almost every day for some reason or another, turned him on. He realized he loved being babied by Julie. It had been a crazy ride so far that had challenged him. But he loved this woman. Maybe they could still work on his wetting problem. Prior to today, he had been sure she wouldn’t want him in diapers forever, but now he wasn’t entirely sure. Did it really matter, though? He smiled at her. “If I say yes, can we have sex tonight?” She laughed. “Definitely not.” He stared at her with an expression that said, Seriously?! She patted his cheek. “But I’ll make sure you enjoy it when we DO have sex. This time and every time.” Exasperated, he fell back on his pillow. She leaned over him and kissed him. “Have I ever steered you wrong yet? By this point, you should trust me, right?” He relaxed and realized she was right. Julie was always right. He was so happy with her. He would stay with her, in diapers, getting sex when she said so and being spanked when he angered her. Because somehow, now, that seemed like the place he had always been meant to be. So he answered her proposal the only way he knew how. He made sure she could hear his manners. “Yes, ma’am.” And she smiled.

🧸🧷🧸 PART I THE FIRST ACCIDENT, OF A SECOND DIAPERING "Nah nah nah, uh uh… Where do you think you are going? Do you see your nephew climbing over the gate? You are supposed to ask for help. Seriously, how is a 3 year old more well behaved than you? Now get back in there with all of the other jobless freeloaders." Stephanie laughed, gesturing for her step son to rejoin his two young cousins in the playpen. "Hey! Bella isn't a jobless freeloader. She still gets royalty checks for that Gerber ad she was in last year!" Kate huffed, quickly coming to her daughter's defense. "How bout that, two times already today that a toddler proved they are more of an adult than you. HaHaHa. I really think this baby punishment was the right move Mom. For sure. The playpen is definitely more his speed. You should have seen how stupid he used to make himself look at the clubs." Kate started talking to her mom about her brother like he wasn't right there. "It's not BABY PUNISHMENT, It's regression therapy. And I wouldn't even be doing it, if it wasn't court ordered!" Chris hated that his sister got away Scott free, and he got passed all the blame for burning down the neighbors barn full of antique tractors last summer. "I have to go to the bathroom. And I'm already out here, can I just go?" "How are you ever going to learn to be a respectful young man, if I keep letting you get away with stuff like this?" Stephanie rested her hands on her hips. And sternly glared at her stepson. "Now get back in that playpen and ask for help if you need to make potty." "I need to go to the bafroom!" Bella shouted from the playpen. Okay then, let's go then. Thank you for asking. Who's my big girl!" Kate cooed as she lifted her daughter over the gate, and walked her towards the bathroom. "I'm so proud of you. I bet by the end of the month you will be wearing pig girl undies like your big sister!" "That's not fair! I asked first!" Chris shouted. Angry that the only toilet in the house was now occupied. and, Annoyed that his 3 year old cousin was going to make it out of pull ups before him. "I really need to go!" "Well you actually didn't ask. So let's start with that shall we?" Stephanie said waiving her hands, ushering her stepson back into the playpen. "Stephanie please! I really need to go to the bathroom." Chris sighed after climbing back into the childish play area. "Can I please go first? I will be quick." He pleaded. Already starting to wiggle behind his discomfort. "Are you seriously going to make it three times in an hour, and prove that you can't even hold your wee wee long enough for your cousin to go potty?" Kate huffed, as she lifted Bella onto the toilet, and shut the bathroom door. "Stephanie! Can I just go out back?" Chris urgently asked, dancing on his tippy toes, holding his crotch behind white knuckles. "And give Mrs. Martin another reason to complain to the neighborhood watch? I don't think so!" Stephanie quickly denied. "If you can't hold it, just go. You are literally wearing a toilet!" She laughed. She didn't take as much joy in her step-son's embarrassing penance as her daughter Kate, but she sometimes could help but just laugh at him. "What is taking so long?" Chris was at the bathroom door now. "I'm coming in!" Chris shouted excitedly. as the first little spurt of pee escaped into his pull-up. Only to be met by the firm unbudging weight of a locked handle. "Jesus Chris! Hold on. Bella is a little constipated. I told her not to eat all that cheese." Kate hollered from behind the door. "Just listen to Mom, and go in your diapers. It isn't healthy to hold your pee in this long." Tears were welling in his eyes, as the first battle was lost. "I don't wear diapers, and you know I don't really use them!" Which was true, until about 6 seconds ago. Tears rolled down his face, as he flooded his pull-up. But that wasn't the worst part. "Please! If she's constipated, just take her off the toilet for a minute, and let me use it! I am very very NOT constipated!!!" Chris shouted. Painfully aware that he had very little time before this little accident became much bigger. "Uh-oh. I think he's trying to say he needs to go number 2. I was wondering why he is still doing his little potty dance." Stephanie said. "What do you mean, you were wondering why he is STILL doing his potty dance. Is there a reason he should have stopped? I can only think of one reason someone stops doing a potty dance." Kate was laughing hysterically. "Did he really just pee his pants out there?" "Well he isn't actually wearing pants. But Im pretty sure his pull up is wet. The little balloons disappeared." Chris didn't even notice Stephanie take a few steps towards him. "Ope, yeah definitely three times. I wonder how many other ways we can find for Chris to come in second to a toddler in the 'im a big kid now' game." Chris jumped back as he felt his stepmoms hand prodding his sodden shame. That was it. Being startled like that was too much for his little sphincter. The second battle had been lost... and, the end of the war was hearalded by a thunderous fart, and a desperate moan. "NOOO!!!" Chris screamed. Hearing the lock click, and door swing open just in time for Kate to wittnes the exhibition. "Thanks alo… uhh.. grrmmpf… a lot!" "Why are you just standing there? I thought you still needed to use the…" Kate stopped talking, as she noticed the strained distant look in her step-brothers eyes. his slightly bent knees, and balled fists. "You are not seriously! Oh my God! Get out of my way! I can already smell it!" Chris tried to get to the toilet and at least get some of the mess into the bowl. "Hmmpppfff… hmmppfffff…" he grunted, only making it another step or two before his body decided it wasn't really worth it. He conceded, and decided to just push the rest out, since it was already coming. The relief felt amazing even though he was about to die from embarrassment. "This is all your fault!" He screamed at Kate, tears still pouring down his face. "How is it my fault that you waited to go to the bathroom this long. You are an adult. You should really be able to have a little more control. This is on you little brother. You pooped your pants, not me." Kate snorted. "Hey! What the fuck!?!" Chris shouted at the flash of Kates camera. "Did you just take a picture?" He asked. Trying to pull his Tshirt down far enough now to cover his soiled diaper. "Uh oh! Uncle Chris, It's okay. My mommy said that it's is. She told me that everyone has an accidents sometimes." Kate was able to avoid the question, as bella approached Chris. Who's knees had buckled under the weight of his Shame, sending him to the floor where he tried not to move, and feel the mess squish more. "Yepp. Everyone has them. Even Santa Clause, and Tinkerbelle, and um… well I don't. I don't go poop in my pants anymore. Because I am a big girl." The two women were laughing hysterically at the young girls savage burns, executed from a place of pure innocence and sincerity. "Please tell me you got that on video, and not just a picture. I think we could win the TikTok with that one!" Stephanie wheezed between laughs. "Geez mom. Your skin says you're still in your 30's but sometimes you really show your age. Nobody 'wins' TikTok. But yes. I do have a video." She opened the file, twisting the knife in Chris's wound. Making him hear it all over again. A fucking 3 year old, reminding him that she doesn't poop her pants as he his litterally sitting in the mess he just made. "Oh yeah. That is perfect! too fucking funny!" She laughed, starting the video again, so Stephanie could watch. After a few screenings, the two ladies had found a calm in the storm of laughter. "Maybe you are right Mom. Maybe this is the video that is going to win the tiktock." "You can't! I DO NOT give you my permission to post a video of me!" Chris tried to act as big as one could, when they are looking up at their mom and sister from the ground, sporting a very full pull-up. "Um… conservatorship. I am literally your legal guardian. I can post all the pictures and videos I want. But I tell you what. If you decide that, after you get cleaned up, you want to start acting like a big kid again, and not someone in the tralls of their terrible twos, I promise I won't post them. Deal?" Stephanie said "I promise! I promise I'll be good!" Chris obviously took the deal. Not only would his friends not see him wearing the same pull ups their all their younger siblings were wearing, it got him in the shower, and away from the twos' infuriatingly embarrassing laughter. "Good, after you get yourself cleaned up, come back to the living room. You can clean up the play area, while we get the twins ready for their naps." Stephanie demanded. Knowing how much Chris hated picking up after himself, let alone a bunch of sticky Rugrats. "Yes mam, I'll be right back down… can I have… a clean pull-up to change into please." Chris nearly choked on the words. But he wanted to be as sincere as possible, until he found a way to delete that video. "I'll bring one up. Just hurry on, and go. You smell absolutely dreadful. Just… hurry up." Stephanie nasally honked, pinching her nose shut, as she helped Chris to his feet with her other hand. "Wow… did you see that attitude change. If I knew making him shit himself was the key to making him more obedient, I would have pumped his breakfast full of laxatives weeks ago. Heck… years ago!" Kate laughed. divulging her morning mischief to her mother, as soon as Chris was out of earshot. "Oh Kate… you didnt!" Stephanie tried to act like she didn't think it was the funniest thing she had heard all week. "I mean… you can't argue results. Do you still have any more laxatives left? In the shower Chris kept wishing he would wake up. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he wasnt dreaming. The nightmare that just unfolded was very much his real life. For the next 32 months anyway. He tried to not let his repulsion to being under the thumb of those two blonde bimbos fester. He knew he had to stay on their good side, as much as he hated it. He let the water run cold as he thought about all the stupid decisions that led him to this point… To be continued… Act II The flashback, and a New Deal

So, a year ago I started to write a story and got a few chapters in but a really bad experience killed any drive to do anything related to this fetish. So, a year later I've gotten over it and decided to reboot the story by releasing a chapter once a week. I have up to Chapter 7 done and hopefully won't get caught up on posting vs writing. If that happens, posting might slow down but I will finish this story. It's very much a basic AF diaper fap story so don't expect a masterpiece. Hopefully it reads well and all criticism/feedback is welcome. Formatting on this forum is odd so I apologize if it looks odd. I'm rewriting the previous version of this story and trying to make fatter chapters out of the previous ones. Enjoy. Hard Reset Chapter One: The Meeting The Anderson's took three months to search orphanages across the country, three months to find the perfect girl. The main problem for them was her age, she was almost an adult and able to discharge herself without being adopted. Being months away from eighteen also makes the legal process harder as well, considering it can anywhere between nine months to many years for the process to actually go through. Not to mention, she would need to agree to the adoption as well, which is something they needed to pursue first. Their chosen candidate was named Alex. She was small for someone her age, at a massive 4’10” she was towering over toddlers and not much else. Having a slender “bean pole” build was also a major factor in the Anderson's decision that she was the one they wanted. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson where both in their early forties and loaded, if their initial meeting went poorly then they could easily grease the wheels to make it work regardless. They were going to get their girl, one way or another… Alex shut the door to her room, sighing as she tossed her backpack in the corner of the room. She walked over to her bed and collapsed face first. She was burned out and wanted to decompress after her final week of exams. She was alone and she knew that the three other girls she shared the room with wouldn’t be home until later in the day. She was done with high school, although being delayed for a rather long time because of the reason she was orphaned in the first place. She knew she would be out of this place in a few months and fully independent. She took the opportunity to change into a pair of black sweat pants and a black t-shirt and laid back down on the bottom bunk. Now that she was more comfortable, she grabbed her phone and started browsing the internet for something to help her relax. Double checking that she was alone, she slipped her hand down her pants and disappeared into fantasy land. She was almost there when the door to the room flew open, a grey haired woman stood in the doorway, smiling from ear to ear. Alex pulled her hand from her pants just in time. Her face was flush but Mrs. Cooper, the head of the care home, seemed oblivious of what she was doing. “Alex, I have a big surprise for you!” She said “Come with me!” extending her hand. Her heart pounding at the sudden exposure, Alex hesitated. “Right now?” she managed to squeak out. “Yes, right now.” Mrs. Cooper lost her smile and stared right at her. “Take a moment to get cleaned up, and put something nice on.” Alex didn’t argue, she slowly got off the bed. Still in mini panic mode of almost getting caught with her hand down her pants. Taking a clean skirt out of her dresser, she slowly walked up to her caretaker with the intent of going closing the door to change. As she got close, Mrs. Cooper put her hand on her chest and looked her right in the eye. At almost six feet, the older women towered over her. With the heat still in her pants, the prolonged stare was the last thing she needed. Mrs. Cooper walked over the dresser and grabbed a large hair brush and hairband. Returning to the smaller girl, she grabbed her long black hair and roughly put it into a pony tail. Putting the hair brush back, she took the girls wrist in her own hand and practically dragged to out the door. Walking down the hallway, she quickly realized what she was being led to. She was going to be made to change in the group bathroom while Mrs. Cooper was going to be waiting outside the stall. This was to prompt expediency and she knew it. “A nice couple is looking to adopt you.” Mrs. Cooper said while Alex was quickly changing in the isolated stall. “You’ll be on your best behavior or you’ll regret it.” This was a surprise, it was a waste of time considering she was close to being a legal adult. She wasn’t given the opportunity to be adopted in a long time because of her age. Having declined all of the potential parents, a lot of families just stopped trying to adopt her based on that alone. She just wanted to be out on her own, she was so close and she didn’t understand why Mrs. Cooper was even bothering to try one last time. Once changed, she was once again led by the hand to the interview room. Mrs. Cooper stopped right before entering and did a few more things in an attempt to clean Alex up. With a somewhat heavy sigh, she put her hand behind Alex and guided her into the room. There were two people sitting at the table in the middle of the room. A larger man and a women about same size as Mrs. Cooper, both looked like they were straight out of the 50s. He was in a black business suit, sporting a dark red tie. The lady looked like one of those women on a World War II propaganda poster. Her brown hair done up with large curls that looked like she emptied a can of hairspray just to keep the shape. A red and white poke-a-dot dress, bridge red lipstick and a white furry number covering her shoulders. Alex was guiding to a chair in front of the two strangers. Sitting down, she just stared at the table. The large windows of the room where open, letting in the sounds of the city flood the room. Car horns, sirens and engine sounds added to the ambiance to the otherwise awkward moment. “I’m Martha Anderson.” She women in the red dress said sweetly “And this is my husband Thomas.” She gestured to the suited man. “We’re really glad to finally meet you Alex, we’ve been looking forward to this moment for months.” Thomas said with a mild grin. “I’m not interested” Alex said bluntly, not taking her eyes off the table. “That’s not how you talk to an adult Alex. Look at them when you’re talking.” Mrs. Cooper interjected. “I said I’m not interested, I’m almost old enough to be on my own and I don’t need to be adopted.” Alex said coldly, still looking at the table. “If you’re not interested, you’re not interested.” Thomas said. “We won’t force the issue. I believe we’re done here.” He said looking at Mrs. Cooper. The couple got up with Thomas gesturing to his wife to take a lead. “I’m sorry about that Mr. Anderson, she is too stubborn for her own good.” Mrs. Cooper said. “I’ll go talk to her, let her know the possibilities you can provide her.” Mrs. Cooper said apologetically as they continued to leave. “Thank you, there is no need. We’ll just go with the other option” Mr. Anderson said. “I’ll be in touch.” Letting the moment breath, Mrs. Cooper standing in the doorway, shot Alex a stern look before walking off. She headed towards Alex’s room with the girl slowly following behind. Stopping in front of the door, she looked directly at Alex. “The other girls won’t be staying in this room tonight, take the time to reflect on the opportunity you just gave up.” She sighed, putting he hand on her face. “I made you some food earlier and left it in fridge, I don’t want to see you out of your room tonight, you’re lucky I already made that food or you wouldn’t be eating tonight.” With that, she turned around and left, clearly in a foul mood. Alex didn’t say anything as her walked away. Alex was looking forward to being left alone and returned to her previous activity prior to being interrupted. Alex took care of herself in record time. After laying there, staring at the bunk above her, the tingling having left her body, her stomach was letting her know it was food time. She went to the kitchen and grabbed the plastic container out of the fridge with her name on it. She opened it up to reveal a surprising good looking chili. After heating it up, she went back to her room and began to dig in. She was almost done when she started to feel drowsy. Standing up, she felt really dizzy, she sat back down right where she was, on the floor, with a thud. Her vision was starting to get blurry, a buzzing was enveloping in her ears, and then she couldn’t see at all, everything was going dark.

*Future me here, this is the first story I wrote on here and therefore, there are many things that are different. First, like many of the other Diaper Dimension stories, this story may contain elements that some may find unnerving or even unsettling to read about. I do not agree with these methods, but I have included them because I also know they make some pretty good fiction. Additionally, there is a soft sequel to this one which can be found at the following link: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/90405-dashs-redemption-a-stuffys-tale-and-diaper-dimension-story-chapter-15-complete/ Chapter 1: The Trio in the House “Hey there. I’m Hopper and this is the nursery.” I’m standing in a typical nursery meant for any baby boy. Fully stocked, practical and cute. Little cartoon boats even dot the walls. “It might not be a thing out of place in scores of households in other dimensions, but this isn’t the typical dimension you might have been expecting. Sure, there are cars, postmen, government issues and scandals, the weather still rains and shines alike, and the average person here looks very much like most others do, with one exception; their height. At least compared to most other places. This dimension has come to be known by many names, but I know most in other dimensions refer to this as the Amazon dimension.” I pause for a moment. “Get it? They’re super tall, and that’s the big difference here. Along with their amazing technology, they’re almost twice the size of 90% of the other dimensions out there.” I pause for a moment. “Let me know if I need to take a breath or anything. I know it can be a bit jarring for some at first.” “Me, personally, I don’t really care about those things and the vector energy pathways separating out the dimensions from one another. Leave that to the politicians claiming other worlds and the scientists bridging the gaps. I really only care about a few of my friends and the two other people who live in this house with me; Monica and Charles… well, Charley.” “Now hold still Charley,” a forceful yet calm, sing-song voice echoes through the hallway outside the nursery from the bathroom. “That would be Monica. She’s the head of this house and what people here refer to as a Big. She’s right about average at 10 feet tall and certainly turns heads when walking into a room for her regal and yet almost farmer’s daughter looks. It’s an odd combination, but she definitely makes it work. I know Charley had a bit of a crush on her at one point in the beginning… but that was a long time ago now.” I look at the darkly stained oak crib to my left, standing as just one of the monuments to the changes that had occurred since I had come into this house. I shake my head. Such ideas don’t help anyone. “Despite her being a Big, and all that entails here with the ‘mommy instincts,’” using air quotes as best I can, “she’s sadly probably one of the more level-headed Bigs one would find in this dimension. Most treat their charges as their relative heights would suggest. If that means drooling on the carpet and laughing at silly infantile games, so be it. Monica may stoop occasionally, but Charley is at least still aware of what’s around him currently.” A high-pitched laugh bounces off the corners of the house. It seems pained and joyful at the same time. “Ah… tickle time. Monica’s newfound joy in life with Charles and one of her ‘stooping’ moments.” I listen to the continuing peals of laughter coming from the bathroom. “She must really be going at him today if he’s laughing that much. Probably needed a pick me up this morning. Almost seems like he needs them a bit every once in a while now since… well, Dash.” I shake my head again, now trying to dispel his image out of my head. “Anyway, for all the normies not in the Guinness World Record books or who aren’t natives, I will assume most people you know would be classified like Charley: a Little. I suppose some of the more blessed individuals could be considered in the middle category, but if you’re below 6 feet, don’t even think about trying to pass as a Middle. The Bigs will spot those people a mile away and punish them for lying. Most of the time, by the end, the liars will care more about the rattle in front of them than a few measly inches and the possibility about being labeled as a Middle. Lying is never good, particularly with this society.” “Charley, or Charles back when I first met him, was 5’9” on a good day before he shrunk a few inches on the trip over here, so he never had a chance with the Bigs, which is how he came to be living under Monica’s roof in the first place. Some trip with sapphire? Ruby? Emerald? I can’t remember, but he became just another missing tourist statistic in that tour group. Since then, he’s been Charles, Charley, C-Man, Honey, Sweetie, baby, darling, and a dozen or more names. We’ve been together since almost the beginning, so I would know.” “Too much? That’s fine, just call him Charley. It’s officially Charles but that name went out with the rest of the items considered at all mature.” I take a breath and then continue. “It took some time for us to become friends, but once we did, we became inseparable. Going through all he did, a friend is a critical element. He sought comfort with me, more than anyone else. A bond like that can only grow from such circumstances.” I pause and try not to get emotional over talking about the past. It’s tough when viewing all the changes firsthand. “Anyway, I admired his intellect, stubbornness, reserved dignity, and strong creative streak. He admired my calm, superb listening skills, and if he will admit it or not, my fur.” I pause to emphasize what I had just said. “That’s right, my fur. You see, I’m the third in this little trio, but I’m neither Big nor Little. Not even a Middle. I’m a stuffed animal… a bunny to be more precise. Obvious when you look at me, I know, but it’s an important factor to know before I tell you anymore.” I straighten up and flex out my diminutive fluffy figure. “Name’s Hop, or Hopper. Charley named me that the first day we met. Not the most creative of name choices, but I think he just wanted Monica to leave be that night. If I’m being honest, that name was probably for the best, as it could still be used once Monica’s plans had come to fruition. I see the looks in other carer’s eyes when some of my friends are still being called adult names. A turtle named Gunther can only last so long with a regressed Little. Imagine trying to say that with a pacifier in your mouth or when your teeth have been pulled in the more extreme of cases. It’s not a pretty sight. Not that Hopper is any easier, but it’s at least more passable. But Hop, well, Hop is perfect. Definitely more than Mister Bunny, my original store name you see.” I shake my appendages out from sitting nestled against the crib for some time. “Come on with me. Daily stretching time. You see, a toy here can never be too careful to blend in. Society can’t know about toys being real and all. Imagine the paranoia.” I shudder as I begin to stretch at the mere thought. “Talk about yikes. These people are crazy enough as it is, so you don’t want to add to that pile, but still, you’ve got to take your breaks where you can.” I flex my arms out and check my fragile and more recent stitching under my arm. “Can never be too careful as a toy either. This world is hard for a Little, but it can be an outright deathtrap for a toy…” “Take that Captain Purple Beard!” Monica shouted from the bathroom. “No mommy! Never!” Tickle time had apparently ended. Playing with bath toys always came next. “Moving on… I know not all toys have this life though. When I was at the mall, I met the lost and found toys at night. Some had come accompanying children and others had been with adults or even the kids from the other dimensions. Why someone would bring their kid here is beyond me, but in they came, so losing a toy was pretty easy to do. We always felt bad for the adult toys however, because if any Big caught an adult carrying a toy… well, it’s basically a giant beacon advertising that Little wants to be adopted… Those toys were often never claimed or saw their owners again. Probably for the best from what I’ve seen. A toy can feel just as sad over a loss, you know?” “I couldn’t believe some of the toys in there. They were so high and mighty because they thought they were celebrities. Apparently, their dimension had this whole franchise about toys coming to life. It’s tough to imagine an entire society knowing that toys were truly alive, but it always got confirmed that everyone thought it was just from the mind of a really creative team and not something that could ever truly happen. That is at least once you got them talking for a bit and not just bragging. In the end, if any of those toys actually ever were retrieved, they usually never wanted to come back and preferred their own dimension over ours. Can’t blame them there.” I stretch one ear and then the other, and they flutter slightly as they both reach their furthest point. “Oh yeah. That’s the spot… where was I?” I pause for a moment and collect my thoughts. “Oh, yes! Not every toy is cut out for this dimension, but there are some pretty big positives. In other dimensions, toys are used until they break, or the child grows up. If they’re lucky, they’ll be donated to a new owner to start the cycle again or be placed in storage. The unlucky ones get dumped and ruined to the point where no child would ever want to play with them, which inevitably leads to them rotting away in a dump or worse… being incinerated.” I shudder in fear at the thought. “Fortunately, here, a Little growing up is practically unheard of. The love of a Little could last decades, and most toys only fade away after completely wearing out or if their Little passes away.” Charley laughs again from the bathroom and reminds me of how we got here in the first place. Why a nursery was even in this house in the first place. I look at the ground in shame and regret. “I can’t lie though…” I let out a big sigh and lean back into the changing table nearby, “sometimes, being a toy here is tough. All other toys’ main objective is creating joy and love in a child’s life and to be loved and cherished back. In the past five years though, toys here have another purpose. We’re now equipped with subliminal messages we have to use on the Littles. Most Bigs don’t realize the messaging is in all toys now, though many of them know at least of the possibility of having similar technology in the specially marked toys. The Mister Cuddles Bear line was extremely popular about three years ago. It alone could regress a Little in under a month after being prompted to do so by the Big. Most Littles didn’t know about the technology until it was too late. They would cling to their one unjudging friend, and it would be all over. Seek comfort after a tough day of mentally regressing and the bear would only further the cycle and send them further downward. Poor little tykes.” “Due to this new technology though, all toys now have a primary mission of using their messaging, or other bits of regressive technology, on their Littles until the desired regression has been achieved. Once it has, we become like any other toy, but our primary mission still hangs over us like a dark cloud of guilt. How could a toy profess to love and care for their Little when every day with them will just lead the Little back to their early childhood or earlier? It’s a question every toy now asks themselves and then must live with afterward. I envy anyone like you that doesn’t have to worry about that in their lives. The ones that see a Little after they’ve been regressed…” Oh god! Please help me, Hop. I don’t know if I can make it through this… Please don’t let her take me… take my mind. Oh. Oh no! Anything but that. Not now! The memory strikes deep within me. It passes in a moment but the pangs of guilt are still there. I glance around the baby blue nursery and infantile accoutrements laid before me with regret. “This is what I must live with now. It wasn’t all me, but I started the process, and I can’t escape it. This room was once classified as a ‘big boys’ room. Charles cringed at that for the longest time… until he didn’t, when he became Charley.” Despite the cartoon characters on the walls and clothing suited for someone under eight, it seemed practically adult compared to where I was standing now. A long changing table packed with diapers and everything else one needs to facilitate those with a Little; a tall and inescapable crib, a bouncer, a rocking chair strong and wide enough for any Big to cuddle with their Little on, a toy chest packed with items only Littles could treasure, and a small bookcase filled with books, where those at the top could be read by a Big and those at the bottom could really only be looked at by Littles. “I miss the ‘big boy’ room.” “I can’t say that I do…” a voice says from above. “I can’t blame you there, Sandy,” I say to the moon-shaped nightlight perched at the top of the dresser. “You only came in when Charley started getting afraid of the dark again. That was right when all this started to change.” “Yep. I would have loved to have met ‘Charles.’ But hey, at least you get to play with him…” “Very true, Sandy. Very true.” I pause and see his faint glow in the dim room of the afternoon. “Charley definitely appreciates you though.” “Right as always, Hop,” he replies back. “The little bugger loves my safety at night. Can’t blame a Little for that.” He’s right and I settle fully back against the changing table and smell the cacophony of nursery-associated smells. I focus on the sweeter ones of clean linen and baby powder to distract myself. “Anyway, regardless of what this place looks like now, I remember what it used to look like when I came home from the mall with Monica. Back before…” I gesture around the nursery, “all this.”

Note: All characters are meant to be depicted as over 18. This story is fictional. It involves non-consensual diapering, blackmail, attempted sexual abuse, and spanking, so proceed cautiously. I wrote this somewhere around 1995, posting it in a chatroom board called alt.sex.fetish.diapers. Then I got busy with medical residency and raising a young family. In the decades since, there have apparently still persisted some abridged copies of it around the web. I guess posting it here is an attempt to preserve the original story. It has been revised now that spell-check exists, but the dark plot lives on, so ABs may want to look elsewhere. Back then, there were still paper medical charts and mercury thermometers, and “personal” grooming was uncommon (or at least not talked about). It was before chastity devices were widely available or affordable. It takes place just before the internet and cell phones revolutionized both communication and shopping for diapers. It was also before there were diaper companies that catered to the ABDL community. This story is about a company that would have been pioneers in the field, but not in a good way… Chapter 1 Doug Easton paused, as he often did, as he entered The Drugstore. Did he really want to do this? He was twenty-eight years old, and had a lot to lose if he was caught. After several years of working on Wall Street after college, he’d decided that he wanted to switch gears totally and get into a basic science graduate program, get his Ph.D. and teach or do research or something interesting and not so stressful. Doug had come to this mid-sized town on the eastern seaboard because it had such an excellent program. He’d taken the pre-reqs and gotten a job in the lab where he wanted to work as a grad student, as a way of networking his way into a position in the program. It was now October, and he’d worked for several months now. It looked very promising. He simply had to take the GRE’s on Saturday, a week from today, and do well enough not to embarrass himself, and the odds were that he would be accepted for the following year. He had a lot riding on getting in, since he’d sacrificed so much to get to this point. It would be horrible to screw it up now. But he’d shopped for diapers to satisfy his part-time fetish for so many years now, he knew he had little to fear. No one yet had bothered him or asked him to explain his purchases. He’d never run into anyone important. When he’d started buying disposable diapers in pharmacies several years ago, he’d always been sure to have a good story on hand in case the cashier got curious. He could never decide whether to use the one about having a sick grandparent or the riskier and more embarrassing one about having an intermittent medical problem. But he’d never had to use a story: no one had ever asked why he was buying the diapers. This always disappointed him in a way, as part of the fun of buying the diapers was the implied humiliating nature of the purchase. Later, as he got bolder, he would heighten his excitement by shopping for diapers or pads while wearing one, and he was careful to make it not so obvious that anyone would notice (he thought) but that if given a clue (e.g. shopping in the incontinence section) another shopper or a clerk might put the crinkly sound together with the bulge and the slight waddle. And still no one ever commented or even looked at him strangely, so he’d long since assumed that people were simply too self-absorbed and not observant enough. Some of the thrill of the purchase had departed for him; today he hadn’t even bothered with wearing a diaper. He put any nervousness he had aside and stepped further into the store. What he saw amazed him. The incontinence section was larger than any Doug had ever seen. Instead of being set off by itself in a little corner of the store, it was smack in the middle. As he cautiously approached it, he could see shelves of large, plump plastic bags awaiting him, and he felt that familiar excitement. The aisles were wide, and the intervening shelves fairly short, so as he entered the first aisle he was acutely aware of how visible he was. He was in plain view of the rest of the store, and felt a little more vulnerable than he liked. He looked around, though, and no one else seemed to be around, not even sales people. He wondered briefly how such a large store could stay in business. He should have given it more thought, as it turned out. He shook off his nerves, and went about his routine of cataloguing the store’s inventory in his head. In most stores this was easy-no more than two brands of diapers, and usually the same two everywhere. But here, the supply was vast, with many brands of which he had never even heard. He was disoriented, and, in the end, completely startled when his reverie was interrupted by a female voice behind him. “Can I help you?” He whirled around, and saw a lady in her late fifties with a kind-looking face and a helpful expression. “What?” he stammered. “I said, can I help you, young man?” she repeated. “Oh,” he said, too threatened to think clearly. “No. Thank you. I’m, uh, fine.” But she was persistent, to his surprise and dismay. “Is there anything I can help you find?” “No, no,” he said, trying to be nonchalant. “I’m just…looking around.” He only realized after he said it how ridiculous that sounded in an incontinence section. He blushed a bright red. But she smiled warmly, as if she’d heard this before. She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice, though the store was still empty. “Sir, there are only two reasons why anyone ever shops in this section. One, they are looking for a specific item, or two, they have a specific problem they need to solve… Okay? Now, you look a little embarrassed to be here and perhaps anxious to get out in a hurry. Am I right?” He nodded as if in a trance. This had never happened before, he was dazed, and he had no idea where this was all headed. She smiled in response and touched his arm. “All right, well, I can help you do either thing faster and more efficiently, so that you can leave sooner,” she said conspiratorially. “If you need to find a certain item, I can show you quickly where it is, so you can make your purchase and get out. Do you know exactly what you need?” He realized that she wanted the specific brand name of a product. He wasn’t sure, of course, what they had, or even what he wanted to walk out of here with. So he said, truthfully, “Not really.” She then smiled another smile, one that was intended to give him moral support for whatever problem she figured he’d just discovered he had. “In that case, I can be of even more help. I can show you what we have, tell you what the differences are, and we can decide together what product will best suit your needs.” She was walking toward a section labeled, “Adult Incontinence”. “Now, I don’t have to tell you how important a custom fit is when it comes to wetting: I know you want a product that will always keep you dry. I guess we both know that accidents are even more embarrassing than shopping for diapers. Am I right?” she asked, nodding sympathetically. He found himself nodding along with her, since that’s what she clearly wanted him to do, even as he wondered how she knew what accidents were like, and even though he had never had an “accident” that wasn’t on purpose. He was starting to feel many different and conflicting emotions: he was definitely curious how this encounter might turn out, but he was also petrified at the thought of admitting to anyone an interest in diapers. And under it all ran a strong current of sexual excitement and more than a little tinge of humiliation. But then, he reminded himself, that’s why he was here. He decided to go with the flow and see where the tide took him. It was a decision he would later regret. “So let me orient you to the different levels of protection we have. Then we can decide what level will be best for you and take it from there.” This idea produced some anxiety, but he had never acted on his fantasy like this, and all he could think about was how this would provide him excellent fantasy fodder for weeks to come. He tried to settle himself down and act calm. Turning, and indicating a smaller package, she said, “There are three levels, generally, of protection. Most people with your…problem…” and here he blushed again, “find that the first level, pads or guards like these, is all they need. It just tapes into your underpants, and you often can’t even notice it’s there.” He smiled to himself and wondered what good that would do him! “But it can protect you against the little accidents a lot of people have, but not if you wet heavily,” she explained. “Is this the sort of product you might need?” she asked, nodding again, and clearly expecting him to again nod back. And he was half tempted to say yes, because her references to his “little problem” were growing very embarrassing for him. But if he bailed out now, not only would he be wasting his money, but he wouldn’t be able to return in the future to this beautiful store for what he really wanted. This older lady was clearly the keeper of the diapers, and if he wanted to shop here, he’d obviously have to do it in her company. He looked away, frowned, and shook his head slightly in some shame. She was a little surprised, and was tempted to glance down at his shorts for evidence that he was wearing anything more substantial than pads. She knew what to look for, but hadn’t yet with him because she’d assumed, since he looked young and healthy, that his problem was minimal. And maybe it still was. So instead of examining him with her practiced eye, she just went on. This guy was very probably insecure, and didn’t need something bulkier. But perhaps by describing them to him, she could steer him away from wearing something that was too noticeable. “Well, of course. But the next level is a type of pull-up, like small children wear. Companies call them ‘underwear’ but they are really a type of pull-on diaper. These are usually not too bulky, and they’re quiet. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell you are wearing one. Mostly, I see elderly folks buying these, not young healthy men. “One of the downsides to using this type of product is that, if you are out and about and need a change because of an accident, you’d have to take off your shoes and pants to put a dry one on. But it can hold more than a pad.” She paused and looked at him, wanting him to get the point. “You see what I mean? It’s a big step up, and maybe more than you need. As I said, the vast majority of wetters just need a pad or guard. Want to try one of those?” He felt the weight of her pressure, but he was too close now. His mind whirled with what she might infer. “No, actually, could you go over the third level?” he nearly whispered to the floor. This time he saw her instinctively glance at his shorts, obviously looking for signs of a diaper under his clothes. But there was nothing. If he was incontinent enough to need a full diaper, why was he not wearing protection now? She allowed a concerned look to cross her face, and she wondered how this could be happening again, with another young man. Her tone now tinged with a little frustration, she said, “Well, the third level is the brief, or the adult diaper. And they are for invalids, mostly. They are taped on with refastenable tapes and worn just like a baby diaper.” As she said this, she realized how much she wanted this obviously functional man to buy something else. “They usually have a strip to tell people if you’re wet or dry, just like for babies, and the legs have elastic gathers to stop leaks. I’ll admit that they are the only product that offers total protection, either for heavy wetting or for bowel control problems. But as you can see, these ‘briefs’ are really reserved for someone who is completely diaper-dependent, and not for someone with...an apparently good quality of life.” She took a breath. She was wound up. She had to give this guy good advice. If he was a regular diaper-wearer, well, that would be different, but this healthy, currently-undiapered young man shouldn’t need big babyish protection. “You see, they are almost always visible under your clothing. Diaper-wearers are simply unable to conceal them well enough. Some people may deny it, but I’m here to tell you I can always spot 'em. Plus, you’d have to waddle a little with any of the diapers I’d sell you, and it is fairly obvious to a trained eye. And then there’s the give-away sound: nothing sounds like a diaper.” She paused again. Maybe she’d gone too far. Some people did need this protection, and it worked for them. But she did feel strongly about fitting the right product to the right customer. She composed herself, and went on, “So you see, you are looking for the least bulky product that will still do the job. Which will it be, so we can get you out of here?” He had endured the lesson with patience and a bit of excitement. Based on what this lady had said, maybe diapers WERE visible and audible to other people. Maybe he SHOULD have been more humiliated to wear them out. He’d have to think about that. But meanwhile, he had to end this. He glanced at her quickly and forced out the words he’d been destined to say. “I think I, uh, probably need to, um, get the briefs.” He stared very hard at the floor. She blinked. "Really? Are you sure? Most people either pick pads or guards. Briefs are the diapers, and you only wear them if you have bowel control problems or very bad bladder control problems. When he didn’t answer, she clarified, “I only ask because, if you really needed diapers, you wouldn’t just walk into a store without one on. I can see that you are not wearing a brief right now,” she explained with a pointed look toward his crotch that made him blush. He coughed. This was getting more and more embarrassing. “I really think I need the briefs.” There was a long pause as she tried to divine what was going through his mind. “Is this, um, problem a relatively recent one?” she asked. He nodded hesitantly. He didn’t know where she was leading, and was unsure of what his “story” should be. He was really in virgin territory at this point. It was pretty exciting. “So you haven’t tried a lot of these products, have you?” she said, thinking she was beginning to understand. He nodded again, deciding that could make sense. It would explain why he didn’t know what he wanted. “No, I thought not,” she said, smiling and with compassion. “A beginner. So let’s talk about your needs. Now,” she said, wanting to pin this boy’s problem down a little better, “what specific problem are we treating? Do you wet your pants?” Uh-oh, this was going to get detailed, he thought. Again he was torn: anxious about having a believable story, but enthralled with the idea of a stranger thinking he needed diapers. Unfortunately for Doug, there was no way he could know this was the last person he should try to convince. He just nodded, unable to meet her eyes. Okay, okay, she thought. Now they were getting somewhere. “Oh, that’s all right, sweetie. It’s common, and I sort of figured as much, for otherwise you wouldn’t be here. I can help you. When you have an accident, is it a lot of leakage, or just a little at a time?” Doug knew what the answer must be to get diapers. He swallowed. “A lot.” She nodded, taking it in. “And what about messy accidents? Do you have problems with your bowels?” The silence hung heavy as he considered. He wasn’t sure if he needed to confess to this, too, or not. Maybe the heavy wetting would be enough? But in the end, he didn’t want to take the chance. Holy cow, he thought, this was indeed humiliating. He dropped his eyes again and nodded. A grown man, admitting that he messed his pants. He felt all of two years old. And not surprisingly, there was a long silence afterward, as she tried to judge whether or not to believe him. That would certainly be serious if true. “Have you seen a doctor?” she asked with concern. “Yes,” he said, having to clear his throat first. He still couldn’t look at her. “He, um, said it would take a couple months until we, um, got it all worked out, so he sent me here.” “Oh,” she said, seeing this in a much different light. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” This boy did need some serious protection. “Hmmmm. Are you wearing anything at all right now under your pants?” He froze, realizing that his not wearing a diaper out now seemed sort of stupid. But best be honest, he thought: I bet this lady could tell. “Nothing right now,” he said, trying to think quickly. “Well, I had some, but then I ran out.” She clucked at him reprovingly. This boy either wasn’t too bright or was irresponsible. That was a setup for a bad outcome. This lad needed her help. It seemed to her this was happening more and more to her. Since they had expanded their incontinence section, more and more younger men were wandering into her shop, and they seemed to need a strong hand. But that was fine: she knew how to take care of them, and if she couldn’t, she knew someone who certainly could. This boy clearly needed some direction. “Okay, well, we’ll get you all squared away, but first things first. With a problem like yours, we’ll need to get you into something right now so you don’t have an accident while we’re deciding, or on your ride home.” She paused to check his reaction. He looked a little uncomfortable with her apparently taking charge, but he didn’t say anything. And since this was really not the time to discuss who should make the decisions (she didn’t want to deal with an accident here), she went right on, in a maternal tone: “Someone who wets and messes his pants needs to wear a diaper all the time. All the time,” she repeated with emphasis. “Otherwise, you could have an accident right now, which would be more embarrassing and harder to clean up than a wet or messy diaper. So we need to put one on right now, without arguing. If you’re a good boy and put a diaper on, then we can talk afterward and decide what you’d like to wear in the future.” She watched him closely for signs of resistance. He was looking more uncomfortable, shifting his weight nervously, but he was not objecting. She went on. “Luckily, I always keep a couple samples in the back, for emergencies like this. You can use the storeroom to change.” Without waiting for a reply, she smiled, took his hand, and led him quickly to a door marked “Employees Only.” He looked a little alarmed but was still being compliant. In fact, though, Doug wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his composure. This was so much more than he’d ever actually dreamed could happen that he didn’t know what to feel. Excited, of course, but frightened. Would she diaper him? Was there anyone else in the back room? What was he getting himself into? No, he thought, that’s ridiculous. This is just an odd business transaction by a grandmotherly lady who is being misled. It’s funny and thrilling, but hardly dangerous. As he would later find, this was completely false. Some might argue that he could at this point still have escaped what was to happen to him, but this is probably not true. Nor is it even relevant. He had no inkling that with every complacent step he was getting closer and closer to the fearful prospect of having his lifelong fantasy become a lifelong reality. He needn’t have worried about one thing, though. She wasn’t planning on diapering him. As she walked him down a back hall to a doorway marked “CLEAN SUPPLIES,” she said, “Now do you put your own diapers on at home? You do? Okay, well, why don’t you try to put the brief on yourself, then, and see how you do.” She opened the door with one of many keys she had dangling from a large keychain, and led the way into the room. It was partially full with many crates and boxes such as you’d expect in a drugstore. She walked over to a shelf with several plastic packages on it and rummaged through them until she found one marked, “BRIEF, LARGE-ADULT DIAPERS,” from which she pulled a large plastic disposable. She also picked up a container of baby powder and brought both over to him. As he tentatively accepted them, she said, “Now I’ll just wait outside while you put it on. I don’t know what you do at home, but I recommend lots of powder. It’s hot out, and you’ll appreciate it later. When you’re done, just open the door, and I’ll come in and check to make sure it’s on correctly. That’s very important, you know. So come get me before you pull your pants up, okay?” She stepped out and closed the door before he could even respond, leaving him alone with a diaper and powder in hand. Once again he questioned himself about whether he wasn’t already in too deep. But it almost doesn’t matter, he thought to himself. She probably won’t even let me out of here now without a diaper. Holy shit! I’m way too good at lying for my own good. He sighed, and was about to unbuckle his pants when there was a sharp knock on the door followed by the lady poking her head in, and seeing him still dressed and holding the diaper, said, “Are you okay? Need help?” He shook his head firmly. She frowned slightly, and said, “Okay, but hurry it up. We can’t waste time with you not in diapers. I’ll check back in another minute or two, and if you’re not done, I’ll give you a hand.” She shut the door again. So now, of course, he hurried. He definitely wasn’t psychologically prepared today to be diapered by someone else. This as all too sudden. He unfolded the diaper and set it down on the cold cement floor. He hadn’t ever been able to put a diaper on standing up. So he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down around his ankles, and, glancing needlessly around, did the same to his underpants. He sprinkled the diaper with powder and then gingerly sat down on it. He pulled the diaper up between his legs, and quickly taped it rather haphazardly. It wasn’t a good job, but he wanted to be dressed again by the time the lady came back. He stood up and pulled up his underpants and pants over the diaper. The diaper fit well, and it was fairly bulky, though he’d made thicker ones for himself on occasion using pads for stuffers. As he was rebuckling his pants, she burst through the door unannounced. She appraised the new bulk between his legs, then strode over to him, saying, cheerfully, “Whoa! Slow down, cowboy! Let’s just check the job you did before you buckle up.” She reached toward his pants with purpose, brushing aside his hands, which had moved protectively toward his groin in a meek attempt to intercede. Before he knew it, his pants and underpants were back down around his ankles, and she was crouched in front of him examining his poor handiwork. He felt the blood drain from his head and began to feel dizzy. He felt like he should object, but he felt weak and sort of lost. He couldn’t think of anything to say in a moment like this. So he stood there as she inspected his diaper. “Hmmmm,” she commented. “At least it is on straight, and not backwards, but the taping leaves a bit to be desired. Hold this,” she said brusquely, as she undid the tapes on one side. She tightened and adjusted both sides, afterward slipping her fingers well inside the leg gathers on both sides to check the fit. He couldn’t help squirming a little, and had to be told to stand still. Finally she was satisfied, and showed him what she had done so he could do it better the next time. She was about to pull his pants back up for him when she saw his underpants, white briefs, around his ankles. She laughed. “Well, you hardly need those on now, do you? Let’s get those off so they don’t get all stretched out over the diaper, okay?” And without waiting for a response, she untied his shoes, had him slip them off, and pulled the pants and underpants off, then replaced the pants and shoes, even tying them for him. This made him feel more like a little boy than he had in a long time. “You said your wetting and soiling problem is only temporary, right? Well, then, we’ll let you have these back for several months down the line.” Humiliated as he’d never been before, he took his underpants from her and balled them up in his hand. His shorts pockets were now too tight for him to tuck them in there. He’d have to carry them home in his hand. Could this get more embarrassing? She didn’t notice his distress, however, for she was nearly out the storeroom door. “Come on,” she called. “Time to get you something for later.” He tried to follow at her speed, but found that this was a fairly thick diaper. The bulk made him waddle slightly, but he didn’t think it was that noticeable. When she got to the door back to the main store, though, she turned and watched him as she waited. He was pretty cute, she thought. Actually, she thought they were all cute the way they had to waddle like babies. And to be honest, she had to admit that part of her liked babying them: she loved the diapers, the powder and lotions, the smells, the mothering. Of course, that was not why she did it, and it was not why she’d set up the ICPs with Mrs. Warren. But it was part of what made it enjoyable for her. Anyway, she knew he’d be self-conscious, so she tried not to smile at his obvious struggle to walk normally. He reached her in a moment, and as they returned to the store, he glanced around nervously to see if anyone was there to notice the newly-diapered boy waddle in with his old underpants in hand. There was only an older man clear at the other end of the store; he probably couldn’t see this far. But then he noticed a tall brunette in the corner back and to the right, near the pharmacy. She looked like she was in her forties, was beautiful, but also strongly built. And she appeared to be watching him very closely. He thought he saw the older lady he was with catching the tall lady’s eye for a moment, and maybe even nod at her. But he wasn’t sure if he made that up. He sure could be self-conscious when he wore a diaper! He took one last look at the lady before he turned down the diaper aisle, and noticed a curl of a smile at one end of her mouth, as if she were amused. Could she tell he was wearing a diaper? Kind of a thrilling thought. She was pretty. But his attention was quickly drawn to the shelf his guide was presenting to him. This was where he had longed to be from the moment he had walked in the store. He longed to be left alone here to read the packages and look at pictures. But she was here, and very much in control of his shopping. “Okay, this shouldn’t be hard,” she said. “The most important thing is, is cost very important to you?” He nodded with conviction. He was a student, living on a student’s budget. She nodded back thoughtfully. “Well, then I think we’ll try you with a package of those generics you’re wearing. I thought the fit was good. Are they comfortable?” He nodded stiffly. He wasn’t used to discussing his diaper comfort with others. “Good. They are good diapers, just as good as the name brands, in my opinion. Try those, and see how they do for you.” She picked out a huge package of the generics-again he noticed the label, “BRIEF, LARGE-ADULT DIAPERS” in large block lettering on the side. That would be fun to carry to his car and inside his apartment. He took it from her, and followed her up to the cash register at the front of the store. He set the package on the counter as she rang it up, setting his underpants next to it on the counter for a moment, while he pulled out his wallet, careful to hunt for and pay with cash so that he wouldn’t leave a paper trail. She watched him find the correct change from the little change compartment in his wallet. He gave her the money, and she handed him a receipt. Then she leaned over the counter and said to him in that condescending tone again, “I think this will get easier for you with time. Now, I think these diapers will help you with your problem, but you’ve got to wear them all the time for them to help. You hear me?” She looked at him sternly. “All the time. See how you like them, and when you only have a few left-BEFORE you run out, come back in and we’ll get you some more.” He nodded obediently. Just needed to get out of here now. “Yes, ma’am, I will.” She was staring at him intently now. “But don’t come back in here without a diaper on, or I’ll do more to your bottom in that back storeroom than just put it in a diaper. Okay?” He nodded to her, his eyes widening. Was she...threatening to spank him? He’d had way too much “fun” for one day. Time to agree and get home. “Okay. Thank you. Have a good day.” He grabbed his hard-won purchase and underpants and left the store, only noticing once he was outside that she hadn’t even offered him a bag. As he walked away, he let out a deep breath. That had to have been the most amazing fantasy ever. And he’d navigated his way through it perfectly, coming away unscathed, with a bag of diapers to boot! Pretty good, he thought, for his first time to that store. For his ONLY time, he thought to himself. He’d not go there again. It was just too anxiety-provoking. But he’d done it today, and now he was safe. He did feel sorry for the lady whom he had deceived so perfectly, however. But only briefly. As she watched him waddle away from her, out to his car and climb in, Mrs. Sheffield reflected on the odd number of totally incontinent young men she had as clients. She’d noticed a preponderance of men as soon as Mrs. Warren had convinced her to stock more of the briefs, and it seemed that, as they continued to expand their product offerings, more and more came in. Most were fairly resistant to her intrusion, but she didn’t care. She was actually a very nice, compassionate older lady who always felt sorry, first and foremost, for her clients. But her experiences with a “late-blooming” son years before had convinced her that incontinence was a problem that needed to be treated. Her son had had several fairly public accidents in elementary school that had led to other kids making fun of him. She hadn’t wanted to diaper him, thinking that would make things worse, but as he grew and the teasing continued well past the time when he never wet his pants anymore, she began to blame herself for his being socially ostracized. She’d vowed to herself, though she hadn’t seen the implications for her drugstore business at the time, that if she ever found an opportunity to step in and help an incontinent person again, she would. At any age, she thought, diapering was far more benign than even occasional accidents, and she had seen the damage firsthand and had to live with the guilt. These days, she made sure that no incontinent boy left her sight without a diaper on, even if they objected. “They just don’t know,” she whispered to herself, “what the alternative is. Owning up to their need for diapers is the best thing they could do for themselves.” It was this attitude that made Mrs. Sheffield run her business the way she did. And it was this attitude, she couldn’t know, which had doomed many young men to lives of unhappiness and even far worse social isolation than she could have anticipated. But, then, at least her intentions were good. It was actually Mrs. Warren who was much more to blame. She looked down at the name and address she had copied down quickly as this latest boy had opened his wallet to pay her for what he thought was the last purchase he would make from her. He was wrong, of course, though he wouldn’t know this for several days. Doug. Doug Easton. He’d seemed nice. She wrote a note for herself to make sure she followed up on him. Nice boy, but he needed her. Chapter 2 On Monday, about two days and four diapers later, Doug was watching TV before bed, undiapered. He’d just finished a day of reviewing for his test on Saturday. He was bright, and the studying wasn’t too hard, so it actually left him with a lot of free time compared to his usual lab schedule. This was why he’d gone out for a new supply of diapers for this week: he had plenty of time to play. And though he didn’t like to wear diapers constantly, he was enjoying wearing one or two a day. His stressful trip to that drugstore had turned out to be worth it, he thought now. He’d just put his books away for the rest of the evening when his phone rang. He answered it. “Is this Doug?” The woman’s voice was vaguely familiar, but Doug couldn’t place it. The other day’s incident at the drugstore was the last thing on his mind. “This is Mrs. Sheffield, from the drugstore? I helped you with your incontinence products several days ago, remember?” He nearly dropped the phone. His mind went blank and his fingers started tingling. Even though he was seated, he felt faint. “Uh, yes, ma’am, I remember.” His mind slowly started to crank out questions: how had she found him? Why could she be calling? “Well, it’s nice to talk to you again. I’m calling to find out how your briefs have been doing since Monday.” His mouth was dry, which made it difficult to speak. “Oh,” he croaked. “Just fine.” He was speaking on autopilot now, trying to figure out how he’d been so foolish as to leave his phone number with her. But he hadn’t! He was sure. How had she tracked him down? Mrs. Sheffield could hear the anxiety in his voice, and knew she’d have to calm him down if her approach was to work. “I hope you don’t mind me calling. Ordinarily I ask before I contact clients at home, but I forgot this time. All I want to do, though, is a little product survey, if you don’t mind. Your opinions regarding our products are very important to us, and will be used to modify our product lines and what we carry. So, I’m sorry for the intrusion but I just have a couple of questions, and the answers from you, in particular, will be very valuable.” A product survey? he thought. That sounded interesting, and didn’t seem very threatening. He relaxed, and as he did, he began touching his stiffening penis through his pajamas. This could be fun. After all, he was tucked away safely in the privacy of his own home, far away from this scary lady. And this conversation again had tremendous fantasy potential for him. In addition, maybe he really could influence what diapers were made or carried. That alone was worth a little effort. But why him? This bothered him, so he asked. “Well, actually,” she replied, “you are important because of the nature of the problem you have. You see, we don’t have too many totally incontinent clients out there who can talk and who are active.” She was not exactly being truthful, she knew, but it was excusable because she was trying to help him. She went on describing why surveys were important. He was only half listening by the end. He was too fascinated by the opportunity he had been given. He’d always felt that store-brand adult diapers were woefully inadequate in many ways that were important to a diaper lover: not bulky enough, not noisy enough, not absorbent enough, and pathetic at containing bowel movements. He knew that the majority of truly incontinent adult probably didn’t want or need these obtrusive, humiliating qualities in their diapers, but wouldn’t it be great if there was at least ONE brand that was closer to the ideal? This might be the one chance he had to help all of adult babyhood attain what most thought was unattainable. He had to give a plug for a humiliating, babyish diaper. But he couldn’t make it sound too ludicrous. His mind was working overtime trying to anticipate questions and phrase his answers with subtlety and skill. She was just finishing some comment: “So, do you think you could just answer a few questions for me?” “Of course I could,” he answered confidently, but not wanting to sound too eager. “I’d be glad to help if I can.” She heard the change in his voice and wondered briefly what it meant. She was mostly happy he was going to cooperate. She was sorry she had to mislead him here, but, after all, it was for his benefit, and they would indeed use the information he gave her! “Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said out loud. “Could you start by telling me how many diapers you use in a day?” Time to check compliance. Fine, he thought, a usage question. He expected that. But he had to guess, since he was certainly not a full-time user! He didn’t want to be; part-time fantasy was enough. “About six, I’d say.” These were generic store-brand diapers; they didn’t take more than two wettings. That sounded right, but any idiot could guess. She’d slip in a couple more compliance questions later. “Okay, and of those, how many are messy and not just wet?” That was probably easy to estimate. “Well, one or two, I suppose.” Still okay, but these were the easy questions. “Uh-huh, fine. Now, I’ve seen how these diapers fit: pretty well, I think, but how do they feel? Are they comfortable? Scratchy? Sticky even when fresh? Do they chaff?” He actually hadn’t had a complaint over the perhaps six hours he’d worn them over two days. “Oh, they’re very comfortable. No problems.” “That’s good to hear. Do you have anyone at home to help change you?” That would be great! he thought wistfully, though only halfheartedly. He didn’t really think he wanted diapers to become that central to his life. “No, I live alone,” he said out loud. Good, Mrs. Sheffield thought. That simplifies things considerably. “Okay, well, let’s talk about wetness. How absorbent do they seem? Do you have problems with leaking with very wet diapers?” She didn’t even notice she was using the “d” word. He didn’t either. He was too involved in the “survey.” "Oh, yes, all the time, " he replied honestly. “I have trouble with that with nearly every diaper. That’s a serious problem for me.” He was finding it difficult not to rub his hard penis. This was really turning him on. He had to keep it going. “Oh, dear,” she said. “That’s a shame. Of course, it probably comes from all your activity, compared to my older clients. How long after you wet do you change yourself into a dry diaper?” OK, now try to make this believable. “Well, I don’t like changing, and it’s often very inconvenient, so I try to make each diaper last as long as possible. So I guess I wait at least two hours after wetting before a change.” “Oh, my,” she exclaimed. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?” “No, not at all,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. “Until they’re VERY wet, I can’t tell they’re damp without looking. By the time I can feel it, I’ve usually leaked.” “Well, I’m not sure any other store brand would have more capacity…” she mused to herself. “Usually it’s adequate, but you are more active. The best option for you may be to add one or more pads inside the diaper, but we don’t like to do that because that makes the diaper even more bulky and noticeable than it already is.” Whoa! he thought. This was his big chance. He snorted derisively. “I’d rather have bulky than leaky.” “Really? But you don’t think they are already too bulky between your legs?” “No, not really,” he said, hoping she believed him. “I mean, I hardly even know they’re there. I don’t have to walk funny like you said. I’m sure I wouldn’t even notice another pad, or even two. But the best would obviously be a thicker diaper I don’t have to change very often.” He was lying now, and thoroughly enjoying it. This could be the perfect infantilist diaper! “Do you worry about other people noticing?” “Not really. I wear baggy clothes, and I don’t think anyone at all has noticed. I don’t see why they should.” This was excellent news for Mrs. Sheffield. Most potential clients were indeed worried about making sure their diapers were unobtrusive. He didn’t care. This should make his assimilation into the program easier. Doug noticed her pause and assumed she was having a little trouble believing that he wanted MORE bulk. He said a silent apology to all diaper-wearers who DIDN’T want people to notice, but he really hoped his cry for thicker, more babyish diapers was getting through. As if in answer, he heard her say, “OK, more bulky and absorbent so you don’t have to change as often and won’t leak. Now, are the diapers too noisy for you, or are they okay? Are you worried that people notice?” “Nah, they’re fine,” he answered gleefully. She was buying the whole thing. For a moment, though, a frightening thought flew through his mind. How truly terrifying and humiliating it would be to be stuck in diapers like the ones he was imagining. What if he were doomed to this fantasy he had always played out in his head and was now having fun pretending was real? To be locked, for instance, in huge, noisy, bulky diapers in public, to be noticed by everyone: it would suck to HAVE to wear what he was telling her he thought diapers should be. But that was what fantasy was all about, he told himself. Reality wasn’t relevant, he thought. “Well, that’s very enlightening,” Mrs. Sheffield was saying. “Most people are actually asking for less obtrusive, quieter diapers, but perhaps we should rethink creating a different line of products. if you don’t mind, let’s move on to messy diapers. Have you had any problems with leakage from messy diapers?” “I’ll say. Even worse than with the wet ones,” he said, fully within his fantasy and not feeling any embarrassment. “And, obviously, that’s a worse problem.” “Obviously,” she agreed. “And do you always wear messy diapers for two hours before changing?” “Not usually,” he answered, “but sometimes I can’t help it. Messy diapers are much more difficult to change, especially in public. I have to wait until I get home, and sometimes that takes a while.” “I see. So once again, your lifestyle conflicts with your diaper needs. Now, you do seem to be out and around a lot. Is this true? Are you out of your home most days?” “Well, usually, though this week I’m actually spending at home studying all day…” he started before he realized he’d crossed over into reality. He didn’t really want her to know anything about him. Was she probing? “So you ARE very active,” she said, and he relaxed. It had just been an innocent question, he thought incorrectly. “Well, the only suggestion I have is to wear some sort of incontinent plastic training panty over your diaper. Do you have any of those?” Surprised, he answered honestly. “Yes, two or three.” And then he remembered he was supposed to be new to this “incontinence.” How could he explain why he had plastic panties? “The, uh, doctor gave them to me to try, but I thought they were just for cloth diapers.” “In general they are, but in your case, it sounds like you could use the extra protection.” “Sounds like a good idea,” he said, not really caring. It didn’t matter what he did or didn’t promise to do. She asked several more questions he found less interesting, regarding tapes and other mundane aspects of the diapers. Finally, she asked him about the wetness indicator, another of her compliance questions. He said he liked it and that he used it often, since he wasn’t always aware of when he peed. “Hmmm,” she said. “We’re doing some research on how many little stripes an indicator should have. I’ve forgotten: how many stripes does your diaper’s indicator have? Could you look down at your diaper and tell me?” He felt a brief moment of panic. He, of course, was not wearing a diaper, and he couldn’t really remember. But he relaxed as he realized that if she’d forgotten, it didn’t matter what he said, as long as it was reasonable. “Um, it looks like one,” he said, guessing that was most common. “One? Okay, that’s exactly what I thought,” Mrs. Sheffield said with a definite air of satisfaction. Doug was happy he’d guessed right. In fact, he’d guessed wrong, and this mistake was the one Mrs. Sheffield had been looking for. It told her Doug wasn’t really wearing his diapers like he should and was therefore a definite compliance risk. That sealed it. She would definitely put him in the program. He clearly needed the little push that Mrs. Sheffield’s friend Mrs. Warren could give. Otherwise he risked having accidents. “Okay, Doug, just a few more questions. You’ve been extremely helpful. I think I know about all I need to know. But tell me, is cost an issue for you? Do you think the disposables on the market are too expensive?” What a great question. Did he EVER. He had trouble buying diapers even occasionally, and he shuddered to think what it must cost to keep someone in them full-time. On the other hand, he wasn’t really as turned on by the cloth diapers, so for him it was worth it. To her, he said, “Yes, ma’am, especially on a student’s budget.” Whoops. Another slight slip, mentioning something personal. But again, she seemed not to notice or care. “That’s what I thought. What if I offered you products that would cost a lot less? I’ve calculated your approximate cost as about $250 per month right now. What if I could offer you the same diapers for about $80 per month? Would you be interested?” That was great! He was excited, for his comments really seemed to be getting somewhere! He was striking a blow for infantilists everywhere! “Wow! Of course! That would be a lot better. But can you do that?” “Well, this is just hypothetical, of course, but, yes. Now, how many briefs do you have left?” He paused. How many SHOULD he have left? Quick arithmetic gave him his answer. “About five, I think.” “Uh-huh. So when can I expect you into the store to restock?” Whoa. Here’s where he got off the fantasy train. He couldn’t make a commitment, he knew, or this could escalate to something he couldn’t afford or keep up with. “Well, I don’t know…” “Sounds like you’d better get in here tomorrow, or you’ll be right where you were before, trying to get by with just your underpants and a prayer. Right?” “Well, uh, yes, but…” He tried to think of how to get out of this easily. She was making it tough. Mrs. Sheffield decided it was time to come clean and close the deal. She knew what she needed to know. “Doug, you had no plans to come in, did you?” “…Not really, no.” It felt better to tell the truth. And she seemed like that might be okay with her. “And you’re not wearing a diaper now, are you?” Yikes! She was sharper than he’d given her credit for. “Well, I, um…” He was shocked, but he didn’t want to admit that he wasn’t wearing a diaper now. She might not use his survey information. He didn’t know it, but he had a more important issue he should have been worrying about. “That’s what I thought. By the way, when you do look at your diaper, you’ll notice two indicator stripes.” She took a deep breath. “Now, you need to listen to me. I may have told you that I was in the business of assessing and providing for my clients needs. Well, it goes a little bit beyond just helping them find a product on the shelf.” Doug didn’t like the sound of this at all. She was no longer surveying. And she didn’t know it was only a fantasy for him. “What I actually do is run a business for people like you who are incontinent. I help them find what they need, and make sure they use it, by organizing ICP’s, which stands for Incontinence Control Programs, for them. I have a lot of clients like you who don’t seem to be able to look after themselves like they should. I worry that they’ll end up having accidents, and then lots of things in your life can go wrong.” Doug’s stomach had started churning. He had started to realize that perhaps he’d sold his story too well. “I’ve decided that you need some help with your diapers. I think we’ll need to enroll you into our program so that you can get the help you need. I work with another woman, Mrs. Warren, who actually runs the day-to-day end of things, and we’ll help keep you supplied, keep you wearing the diapers, and keep you well-behaved. And it’s all for that price I was telling you about. What do you think?” Doug knew what he thought. He thought he’d better do some confessing, or he’d find himself in far deeper than he’d thought possible. He didn’t know that it was already way too late. His silence didn’t really slow her down. "Now, I know you weren’t expecting this, and I’m sorry to spring it on you, but in the end you’ll thank me, you really will. Let me explain for you why I think you need our help. "There are four parts to any successful ICP. First, affordable cost. Second, choosing the appropriate product for your personal wetting and soiling needs. Third, accessibility: you need to be getting your diapers. Fourth, compliance. All the diapers in the world won’t keep your pants clean and dry if you’re not wearing them. "You may not have noticed, but we just completed an assessment of the ICP you had prescribed for yourself. That is, your plan of buying the diapers yourself any old time and bringing them home and wearing them occasionally. “What I found out during my assessment is that this isn’t working, regarding each of the four parts. Too expensive, too leaky, you won’t come in to buy them, and once you do, you’re just not wearing them like a good boy.” He tried to say something, but she wasn’t really slowing down. She didn’t seem to care what he had to say. This was getting absurd. “Doug, you need to face the fact that you are totally incontinent. Probably, well, hopefully, temporarily. But you desperately need a much better and structured ICP for the foreseeable future, and so the bottom line is that I’ll be supplying it for you. Believe me, this is a very good thing for you. You’ll eventually appreciate the complete protection we can offer, and we’ll also lay the groundwork for your eventual attempt at re-potty-training, if that becomes a possibility.” Doug sat listening in shock. He didn’t know what to think or feel. A tiny bit of him was intrigued and turned on by what sounded like a forced return to babyhood, or at least to diapers. But most of him was horrified at the thought of his fantasy getting out of control and effectively running the rest of his life. It didn’t sound like he’d be in control, and he knew himself: he ALWAYS had to be in control. He couldn’t even begin to process her words, for they seemed impossible, foreign, crazy. But she went on. “So after considering your needs and problems with compliance, I’ve decided to enroll you in a special diaper delivery program we offer, where I can decide the best ICP for you, and all you have to do is follow some very simple rules. You’ll pay twenty dollars each week for us to deliver a week’s worth of diapers to you, as well as the extra pads we talked about, and you’ll wear them and use them. “Mrs. Warren will check on you and make sure you are following the rules and using your diapers appropriately, and she has some very helpful disciplinary tricks to help you be obedient, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate. Then you’ll return the used diapers at the end of the week for us to count and examine, so we know you used them all week. So you see, this program is much better with regard to cost, availability, leak protection, and especially behavior control. Doesn’t it sound wonderful?” Doug felt speechless, but knew he had to speak. “Mrs., uh, Sheffield? I really appreciate your concern, but, um, well, I don’t actually think I need your help here…” Mrs. Sheffield responded with a slightly condescending tone. “Oh, but we just talked about that and decided you did. Remember?” He remembered HER talking and deciding, but he’d been left out. “Yes, but I think there has been a terrible mistake here. You see…” She interrupted again. “Don’t you worry. There’s no mistake. I’m going to help you, and you will never have to wet your pants again. Doesn’t that sound nice?” “No. I mean, yes. I mean, I don’t want your help here because…” “Doug,” Mrs. Sheffield said earnestly, "I’m sure you’re used to handling your problem on your own, but the fact is, you’re just not doing a very good job. I’m afraid you misunderstand what’s going on here. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m really not asking you whether you’d like to participate. I’m TELLING you about the ICP that you will begin tomorrow. I’m sorry we couldn’t ask for your opinion, but by not wearing your diaper you showed me that you are not reliable enough to make these decisions for yourself. “And you’ll have to trust me here that this is not a bad thing. When you’re incontinent, there are only two things that could happen. You can either have accidents with wetting and soiling your pants, which is horrible. Or you can wear your diaper. And in this program, believe me, you will wear your diaper. Now, do you have any specific questions about your ICP that I can answer for you?” Doug was starting to panic, because she wasn’t listening to him. She was treating him like a child, which hadn’t happened to him for nearly twenty years. It was frustrating not to have control! But he had to stop this now. As embarrassing as it was, he couldn’t think of anything else but to tell her the truth. “Mrs. Sheffield, there really has been a mistake. You see, I’m actually not…” Her voice turned cold. “No, Doug, we’re not going to argue about this. This isn’t the time for that. I was asking you if you had any questions about your ICP.” “Yes, but I need to tell you that I don’t need…” “Okay, that’s enough,” said Mrs. Sheffield sternly. "If you don’t have any questions, I’ll just tell you what’s going to happen next. “Mrs. Warren will be taking over your care from now on, and she told me to tell you that she’ll be over tomorrow at about ten in the morning with your first week of diapers and other supplies. At that time she’ll explain all of the rules she has, and what you are to do, and she’ll get you into a diaper for good. “Now, you told me you’ll be home tomorrow, and that you don’t have any roommates, so I don’t expect any trouble from you about this. Ten in the morning. If you want to argue, argue with Mrs. Warren. She loves to `discuss’ things with clients, and I’m sure she’d be happy to talk with you about whether you need our diapers. So if you want to talk, save it until tomorrow. Does that sound alright?” Doug felt defeated with this woman. She wouldn’t even give him the time of day. Before, he’d been embarrassed when she’d asked him so many questions. Now she wouldn’t listen! But perhaps this other lady would. He had to have better luck with someone else. At least he’d have time to think about how he’d explain himself. “Okay,” he said. “But I’ll just tell you, I’m not doing this program thing.” “I’ll leave that for you and Mrs. Warren to work out. It’s been nice talking to you, Doug, and I’m happy to have you in our program, even though it may take a while for you to adjust to it. Oh, by the way, make sure you behave yourself with Mrs. Warren tomorrow. Of course, she’s very nice, but she doesn’t tolerate little boys who aren’t polite. Will you promise me to be polite?” What else was there to say? “Yes, ma’am.” “That’s a good boy. And promise me you’ll wear your diaper tonight?” Like hell. “Yes, ma’am.” “Okay, good. Take care until tomorrow, Doug, and please, for the sake of yourself and your underpants, wear your diaper.” As she hung up the phone, Mrs. Sheffield smiled. That had been done skillfully. She worried about cooperation with many of these boys, and so she’d adopted a strategy of getting as much info about them and their habits before breaking the news to them. None of them saw it coming, of course, and while she felt guilty deceiving them, she felt proud to offer them the protection her son never had. If she hadn’t been a very good mother to him, at least these incontinent boys would benefit from her learning. She did feel bad about one thing, though, and that was deferring Doug’s questions to Mrs. Warren, who wasn’t exactly the chatty type. She had an uneasy feeling that she was quite rough with these boys, especially the resistant or noncompliant ones. But the two women had an unspoken rule that Mrs. Warren’s methods were not talked about between them. Mrs. Sheffield thought maybe Mrs. Warren spanked them, but wasn’t sure. Mrs. Sheffield didn’t oppose spanking in principle, but she worried that her partner might go a little overboard. She had to keep reminding herself that keeping these boys in the program and in diapers as long as they were incontinent was the most important goal. And since Mrs. Warren had been running the ICPs, Mrs. Sheffield had not heard of a single problem, either from the boys or from Mrs. Warren. All of them clearly wore their diapers. So, as much as she might have worried, and probably should have worried, Mrs. Sheffield let the methods of Mrs. Warren remain a secret. As she added Doug’s name to the next day’s diaper delivery list, a curious observation popped into her mind. Like Doug, many of these boys described a “temporary” incontinence problem. She put most of them in their ICPs just to tide them over until they regained their control. Oddly, though, in the three years since she had hired Mrs. Warren to run her business, not a single one of these temporary incontinents had graduated from their program. “Oh, I know,” she lied to herself. “I bet they’re just not honest with themselves at the beginning. I’m sure they all would like to believe it’s temporary, but it makes sense that bladder and bowel incontinence doesn’t just go away. Those poor boys, denying their problem. Well, as long as they’re protected.” The boys, of course, were not the only ones practicing denial; Mrs. Sheffield had apparently learned how to convince herself there was nothing odd about the program she officially ran but knew nothing about. Mrs. Sheffield attended to the next order of business by picking up a phone and dialing the number of Mrs. Warren’s cellular phone. She wanted to make up for the fact that she’d set Doug up to take the full brunt of Mrs. Warren’s wrath tomorrow. He’d be full of excuses that she wouldn’t want to hear, and though she had thought at first that a little run-in with Mrs. Warren tomorrow might not hurt this boy a bit, the more she thought about it, the more she realized it would almost certainly hurt. Quite a bit, in a tender, likely undiapered spot. So a little intercession on her part was appropriate. She smiled when she heard Mrs. Warren answer immediately. Tomorrow would be an eventful day for Doug. Chapter 3 Doug hung up the phone slowly and just stared out into space, trying to process what had just happened. He had just been deceived and manipulated into a position from which he was now dangerously close to being out of control. In fifteen minutes he had gone from being safe and happy and insulated from this frightening woman to being fooled, humiliated, and violated by her. And supposedly thrown into some program for delinquent diaper-wearers, where he obviously did not belong. Imagine! He had misled this lady so effectively that she thought he really needed diapers! It would be laughable if it weren’t so annoying and if it didn’t seem to threaten his desire for privacy. He couldn’t even enjoy the fantasies generated by the phone call, because now he needed to think about how to get himself out of this without anyone finding out about this, and if possible, without any more embarrassment. Doug was pretty sure this adventure would end tomorrow, when he explained the reality of the situation to this Mrs. Warren. But he was most concerned about how he could end this without admitting he was just a diaper lover, which he knew was viewed by most people as perverted. If word of his kink spread, his application for the graduate program could be in jeopardy and his job at the lab ended. How could he end this discreetly? He’d have to be prepared, more prepared and alert than he’d just been during that conversation with Mrs. Sheffield. What an idiot he’d been. She’d played him masterfully, and he’d fed right into her little quizzes. Curious, he went to his stash of diapers and checked them. Sure enough, the ones he’d just bought had two stripes. Stupid. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. And, he chuckled, he nearly had walked straight into the nightmare he’d imagined of having given the description of the perfect adult baby diaper only to be sentenced to wear it constantly. That would really be miserable. But he would avoid that. No one would be sentencing him to anything. He was an adult, and he controlled his life. The anxiety he had about tomorrow morning didn’t stop him from getting that same thrill he always felt when he touched the plastic of a disposable diaper, but he packed it away in his bedroom closet as a symbolic gesture of his continued autonomy. She’d pushed him around pretty well over the phone, hadn’t she? Wait until that other lady got here tomorrow. She’d meet the real Doug. He tried to have a normal evening, but his anxiety continued, so he had a couple beers to calm himself down. He’d meant to figure out what he would say tomorrow to that diaper lady, but after the beer, he decided he could figure it out later… Doug awoke the next morning fully clothed on the sofa, and was disoriented by the sunlight streaming in the window and what sounded like loud banging on his front door. He next noticed a strong message from his bladder, distended from the beer from last night. As he struggled to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom, he tried to reconstruct what had happened to him. He was midway through relieving himself before he realized that he must have fallen asleep on the sofa and overslept. So who could be so rude as to be pounding on the door? “Oh my god!” he said out loud as he suddenly remembered Mrs. Warren. He jerked his hand up to look at his watch and only succeeded in peeing all over the bathroom floor, not to mention leaving a small spot on his jeans. But big deal: he finally got a good look at the time, and, sure enough, it was after 10am. He was now wide awake, and working hard to figure out what to say to this woman. He zipped and buckled his (now slightly wet) pants and went to the front window. He couldn’t see the door, or who was there, but he did catch a glimpse of a large van, colored in pastel pinks and blues, with the words “HOME DIAPER DELIVERY--Get 'em, Wet 'em, and Forget 'em.” He would have been embarrassed at his neighbors seeing this van, but he had more urgent concerns. He could always claim it had had the wrong address or something. But there could be no doubt who was banging on his front door. He briefly entertained the idea of not answering the door at all, but the banging was so insistent, he decided he had to confront this threat and get rid of it. He took a deep breath and opened the door. He was suddenly and rudely pushed aside, and a large woman strode past him toward his living room area. He was sort of surprised by her assertiveness, and it took him a minute to recover, close the door, and follow her in. Entering the living room, he saw that she had her back turned to him, apparently already talking on the phone! But even from the back, he recognized her from the drugstore; she was the strong-looking beautiful brunette who had watched him with such interest as he had waddled self-consciously out of the dressing room in the back of the store. Somehow he had known that it would be her. He wanted to apologize to her for keeping her waiting at the door, to show her how reasonable and sensible he really was, but here she was, already on the phone. She was obviously kind of rude, but he didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot, so he just stood there awkwardly and listened in to find out what was so urgent. What he heard surprised and worried him a little. “Yes, Mary, I KNOW I promised not to spank him today, but he’s practically been begging for it for the past twelve minutes.” Doug glanced at his watch. It was 10:12 now. Could they be talking about him?! “Well, no, obviously not. But let me tell you what he did. Deliberately kept me waiting outside for twelve minutes…Of course he was home…I’m SURE it was on purpose…Well, Mary, I just don’t put UP with that kind of behavior…I KNOW what he needs, and I can give it to him with an open palm…Yes…Yes, I know…Yeah, okay. Alright. But he just exhausted his grace period. No more warnings or excuses. Next time he so much as looks at me wrong, he goes over my knee. You know how I feel about disrespect…Okay, Mary…Okay. Bye.” Doug was now very anxious, as he watched her set the phone down. His face was burning with embarrassment, for he knew that as absurd as it sounded these women were discussing HIM. Whether HE, essentially a grown man, should get a spanking. He would have thought it comical if this lady hadn’t seemed so serious and capable. He wasn’t small, but because of her size, he’d have a hard time resisting her physically. He watched her now as she seemed to think for several seconds and then turned abruptly and brushed past him back toward the door without even acknowledging his presence. He stood there, uncertain how to handle this strange encounter with this lady. She helped him. As she reached the door, she turned and for the first time, spoke to him. “The very least you could do would be to help me carry in your diapers. Come on!” And she disappeared outside, leaving the door wide open. It was another second before he realized that he’d better start explaining fast, or within about two minutes she’d probably expect him to be wearing one of the infantile gifts she’d brought. He rushed out the door and out to the pink and blue diaper van. She was around back, opening the rear doors. As he reached her she was examining a clipboard and appearing to compare it to contents in the back of the truck. He looked inside and got distracted by her cargo. Her van was literally crammed full of packages of disposable and cloth diapers. In addition there were smaller packages of plastic and other (rubber?) panties, bottles of powder, oil, vaseline, lotion, and lots of other nondescript items he thought must be pads and soakers. There were also many items he could not identify: jugs of liquid, assorted clothing. Half of him wanted to go through it all and see what he liked, but the rational half of him realized he’d find out all too soon if he didn’t start talking now. “Um, Mrs. Warren?” he started hesitantly. When she didn’t answer or even look up, he just went on. “We REALLY need to talk.” She half snorted derisively in response but didn’t otherwise say anything. He realized he’d better just spit out the essentials. “There has been a huge, embarrassing mistake. You see, in real life, I don’t NEED to wear diapers at all. I’m totally continent. This is all a big mixup because, um, well…” He stalled out, summoning the courage to tell someone the truth for the first time ever. “I, um, sometimes like to, you know, wear diapers, just as a kind of fantasy. But it’s just a funny little thing, it has nothing to do with reality…” He was watching her face, which never changed expression. She just kept checking over her list. Finally, as he trailed off, unsure of what to say next, she smiled slightly, and though her eyes never left her clipboard, she murmured," “Well, your fantasy is about to become your reality, little boy.” That was NOT the response he expected. He started to panic a little. She wasn’t listening or didn’t get it. He grabbed her elbow frantically and said, “No, you don’t understand. I DO NOT need diapers. I am completely continent.” THAT moved her eyes to him, and the fierceness with which she glared at him, and then at his hand on her elbow, startled him. He let go of her elbow. Her eyes narrowed, and after a long pause, she said slowly and distinctly, “I think I just heard you ask for a continence test.” He just stared blankly at her. The words made no sense to him. “Is that true?” she demanded. “I…I don’t know,” he stammered. “What is it?” “Just what it sounds like. It’s how we find out who can and can’t control their bladder and bowels. Sounds like you’re claiming to be continent. I can’t accept that claim unless you can back it up by passing a continence test. That’s only fair, right?” He absorbed this slowly. “You mean you want proof?” She nodded, her eyes penetrating into his. “Better believe it. You wouldn’t believe the number of my clients who try to avoid wearing the diapers they so obviously need. This test is simply a reliable way of telling who does and who doesn’t need my…services. Now, I’m sure you would never try to mislead me,” she said rather sarcastically, “so you can just consider this test as a formality.” “Well, I don’t know. What would I have to do?” he asked, uncertain. “Oh, it’s easy,” she replied, “If you’re continent. Just keep your pants all clean and dry for three hours after you drink a glass of Gatorade.” That didn’t sound so bad. “That’s it?” “That’s it. But it’s not so easy if you’re at all incontinent. And judging by your pants, I don’t know how you’d do.” He followed her gaze down to the spot on his crotch from the bathroom. He blushed heavily, cursing himself for his poor timing. Nice way to make an impression, he thought. “Oh, that’s nothing, just an accident.” She smiled. “They all are.” She went on: “But if you want to try to stay dry for three hours, that’s fine. I’ll give you an excellent chance to prove to me that you don’t need to wear diapers. Otherwise, you can help me carry in your things now.” She pointed to a pile of disposable diapers stacked near the door of the van. He stared at them, wishing he could have them and use them on his own terms, at his convenience. It was tragic to be confronted by this opportunity and not use it. But he couldn’t. This situation was way too threatening. “I guess I’ll do the test.” There didn’t seem to be much of a choice. She wanted proof. He could certainly provide that, and three hours seemed like a worthwhile time investment if he could nip this whole diaper debacle in the bud. “What do I have to do again?” She smiled. This would be fun. “As I mentioned, it’s very easy. You drink a glass of Gatorade and sit in the bathtub for three hours.” “The bathtub?” Didn’t sound too comfortable. “Yep. It’s easier to clean up puddles and messes that way. Along those lines, I’d suggest wearing older clothes. That should be fine,” she said, indicating the jeans and old tennis shoes he was wearing from last night. Mrs. Warren retrieved a large, clear container of what looked like lemonade from the rear of the van, then slammed shut the doors. She walked around the vehicle to the front end, and returned from the passenger side with a small sack of heavy black cloth. “Oh, yes,” she said, smiling at him, “I ought to tell you, just so you won’t be shocked when we get upstairs. I hadn’t planned on this activity today, so I’ve got a lot of other stops to make. I won’t be there to watch you during your test, and I need some way to secure you there in the tub so I know you didn’t cheat. That’s the reason for these.” And she held up the bag for him to see the contents. He peered in curiously and saw several well-worn leather straps and cuffs in a tangled bunch. A chill ran down his spine. “You mean you expect me to let you tie me up?” That didn’t seem wise at all. She was a stranger, and a weird one at that. He’d heard stories about people who got themselves into S&M situations and never gotten out. “No offense, but I don’t know you at all! Why should I trust you?” His imagination started working as he remembered how she wanted to spank him earlier, and his anxiety level jumped a notch. Sure, he’d fantasized about spankings. Maybe someday he’d try it, but now, with an angry stranger, was definitely not that time. Plus, there was a lot on the line here. But she shook her head. “Don’t worry. I won’t physically harm you. I know I could, but the purpose is just to make sure you don’t use the toilet if I’m not there.” She pulled out a piece of paper that looked like a legal document. “Here, look. This is a binding promise I’ll sign stating that I will not physically abuse you while you’re tied up. It will protect your rights, and you can hide it somewhere for use later if necessary. Or complain to the store. You’re protected in a number of ways.” This “promise” was a scam she’d only recently started, and it seemed to work well. She had to be careful of the promises she made, but of course most of it was true. She wouldn’t actively harm the boy, but she would use the situation that developed to her advantage. Anyway, the form was bogus. It just looked good, and most people didn’t know the difference. It was simply useful to reassure her brand new clients that they would be safe. And they would: in several hours, they’d be safely in a nice, clean diaper. She had other ruses to use if this didn’t work, but this boy seemed relieved when he saw the “document,” so she didn’t go any further. He was sadly naive, this one. That made it easier, but no less fun. Mrs. Warren made a big show of signing the document, giving it to him, and telling him to hide it somewhere safe. Then she told him to go upstairs and sit on the edge of the bathtub and wait for her. She saw him swallow hard, nod, and turn to go inside. She smiled again. He would be easy. When Doug went back inside and slowly climbed the stairs that led up to his bedroom and bathroom, he was still more than a little uneasy about putting himself in Mrs. Warren’s hands so completely. On the other hand, he couldn’t figure out how she could take advantage of him. I mean, I have the contract, he thought. And the test is so straightforward. A better test would be to sit in the tub for SIX hours, he thought. Three hours is almost too easy. I guess she could try to cheat by just not coming back until tonight or something, but in that case I simply wouldn’t agree to join the program. This sets me up for getting something if I win, with no chance to lose. Three hours, he thought. I could do that with a GALLON of Gatorade. And she admitted that anyone who was continent wouldn’t have a problem. Well, he figured, I’m as close to being perfectly continent as anyone. I haven’t had an accident since I was three or four. Never wet the bed. In fact, I’ve always wondered why I was turned on by diapers; I don’t even recall ever having been in them…oh, well, whatever. After today, in any case, I don’t know that I’ll ever go out and buy or wear them any more. Too risky. Doug hid the contract away under his mattress, for lack of a better place. Then he went into his bathroom and sat down on the edge of the tub. His bladder and bowels were feeling great and totally empty. His only worry was whether Mrs. Warren would keep her promise and leave him alone after he passed this “test.” But so far she’d seemed rational; surely she’d admit she was wrong after he proved himself to her. Overall, he was starting to feel very confident: things had looked bleak several minutes before with all that spanking talk, but now it looked like this would just be a three-hour delay in an apparently normal day. After about two minutes, he heard some noise down in the kitchen, and another minute or two later Mrs. Warren joined him in the bathroom. She had her bag of restraints and what he saw was the largest glass from his cupboard, filled with what looked to him like Gatorade. She cheerfully instructed him to sit down in the tub, facing away from the drain. He found this slightly uncomfortable because he couldn’t lean back without pressing the hard faucet into his back. She told him not to worry, that she’d take care of that. In the meantime, she put a leather cuff on each wrist and then one on the shower head above him. These were all locked with small padlocks. She then attached a small, long chain to one cuff, ran it up through the cuff on the shower head, and attached it to the cuff on the other hand. This brought his hands up to about a foot above his head. He found he could bring his hands down to about the level of his neck, but no further. Warren also took a short cord and ran it from a belt loop on the back of his jeans to the faucet behind him. He really couldn’t move his body or his arms at all. The arrangement was simple and effective. She must have done this often, he realized. She disappeared for a second, returning with a small pillow to tuck behind his back so he wouldn’t be so uncomfortable leaning back for three hours. Finally she brought out a little clock, which she set on the toilet seat in plain view. “This is so you’ll be able to see how you’re doing. In a moment, I’ll have you drink the glass over there, and then you’ll have exactly three hours to sit here alone. At the end of three hours, I’ll come back and see if you’re wet or messy. If it’s not obvious, we’ll pull down your pants and check your underpants carefully. “I just checked your dresser, and it looks like all your underpants are white. Is that what you’re wearing?” He blinked. She’d been in his dresser? He suddenly felt more vulnerable. But she was talking again. “Good. ANY signs of wetness, or ANY brownish stains on your underpants, and you fail this test. Is that clear?” He felt like a little boy again, being told his underpants would be checked for brownish stains, but he had to admit it was a reasonable demand for a continence test. “And if you fail, I don’t want to hear any excuses or arguments about wearing diapers, okay? By taking this test, you implicitly agree to participate willingly in your ICP afterward if we prove your incontinence. Right?” Again he nodded. Whatever. As if it mattered what happened if he lost. “And I agree that if your underpants come out clean and dry, that I’ll get back in my van, and I won’t bother you ever again. Agreed?” He nodded happily. Three hours until freedom. He didn’t think he’d miss her. Spank him indeed! Ha! Diapers? Please. She retrieved the full glass from the sink and asked if he was ready. When he nodded, she held the glass to his lips. He had to drink it down a little quicker than he would have liked, as she kept tipping it toward him a little too much for his comfort. It wasn’t bad tasting: not quite like Gatorade, maybe thicker and saltier, or something. But it was probably one of the other sports drinks he hadn’t tried. When he had finished the last drops, he looked up to see Mrs. Warren smiling an odd little smile, as if there was a joke he wasn’t getting. The joke’s on you, he thought. I’m not really incontinent. She wiped his lips in a maternal way, and said, “Okay, now, three hours exactly. I’ve got some deliveries to make in the meantime, but I’ll be here promptly to check on you.” She turned to go, then turned back suddenly. “I almost forgot,” she said, fishing out a small black object that looked like a little radio. “I don’t think it’s safe to have you here tied up alone, so this is a little microphone transmitter that I receive in my van. I’ll just set it here, on the toilet seat, and if there’s an emergency, just a yell will bring me back here in a hurry. Okay?” He nodded, impressed. She was prepared. Good thing he wouldn’t need to argue with her in the future! Luckily, all he had to do was play along briefly here, and he’d get this woman out of his life. She said goodbye, smiled that odd smile again, and left the bathroom. He heard her slam the door downstairs, start the van, and then heard its engine fade away. As Mrs. Warren drove away, she thought about the boy she’d just left in his bathtub, and almost felt a little sorry for him. He looked so earnest about the whole situation, so confident about staying dry, so hopeful about not wearing diapers. If only he knew the reality. She’d seen it before, of course, dozens of times by now, with dozens of boys. Most were, like this guy, essentially continent, she knew. Or at least they were when she first met them. And most had accidently stumbled into her little web, from which they could not extract themselves. All had similar stories, interestingly, of liking to PRETEND to need diapers, or having sick relatives, or some similar garbage. Mrs. Sheffield, the dear lady, caught one every few weeks. And though the woman might be nice, with the best of intentions, she was too dense to realize that these boys were not ACTUALLY incontinent and did not really need her help. But she thought they did, so she referred them to her, Linda Warren, former nurse and current queen of the diaper boys. The ironic thing was that as kind and dense as Mrs. Sheffield was, Mrs. Warren was just the opposite: insightful but self-serving. She knew damn well these boys didn’t “need” her, but she needed them, so they were in her program. She needed them mostly for financial reasons, as this partnership with Mrs. Sheffield was her only income. The more boys she had, the more she was paid. And the longer they stayed in her program, the less work they demanded, so the more boys she could keep, so the more money she made… And she was good, both at enlisting her boys and at keeping them. Now, after about three years, she had all the bugs worked out, so that once a boy was referred to her, he was pretty much hers for as long as she wanted. She could handle almost every curve thrown to her, and by now, had seen almost every variation. Her income was good, and, since the boys never left the program, her job security was excellent as well. She now concentrated on the art of her craft, and now enjoyed simply seeing how the game would be played. This boy, for example, was being resistant, and understandably so, she thought. He was probably no more incontinent than she was. But she had all the cards (or would have them soon) and his decision to try to prove his continence doomed him to what she knew would be a miserable day and a certain long-term relationship with her. For no one, she knew, had ever had a full glass of her “diaper juice” and had lasted more than two hours. Most lasted less than one. Even when she tested it on herself, she had been on a toilet within ninety minutes, and had stayed there for nearly three hours. It had taken her several weeks to find the appropriate doses of diuretic and laxative that would work quickly yet be able to be passed off as a normal drink. Using and mixing a therapeutic dose of furosemide wasn’t a problem, but it had taken some experimentation before she found a suitable solvent for the double-strength mag citrate and polyethylene glycol she used. It made her shudder to think about that: these were the fastest and most powerful laxatives known, and even a quarter of what she used would probably be enough. But she didn’t take chances. She wanted each and every boy that came her way. And so far, she had a perfect record. This boy had no idea what he was in for. He believed it was Gatorade, and was soon going to get an unpleasant surprise. Then the rest of the game would fall into place. Sometime later she heard the first curses come in over the receiver, and since she didn’t really have any errands to run, she pulled the van over to do some paperwork and to listen, for this first “accident” for her little boys was always sort of poignant for her. She leaned back and enjoyed the growing sounds of Doug’s distress. During the first few minutes, Doug tried to get a little more comfortable. His hands being tied above his head was innately uncomfortable, and he faced an unenviable choice between trying to hold his arms up on his own, which, he found, led to muscle cramps within five minutes, or letting his hands stay limp, which rested his arm muscles a little but chaffed at his wrists and cut off his circulation. In addition, his arms being elevated put added weight on the bony part of the pelvis on which he was sitting, making this extremely uncomfortable against the unforgiving porcelain of the tub. He tried to shift his weight, but his jeans were tied to the faucet behind him, and this prevented him from moving enough to get really comfortable. The pillow in his back also wasn’t doing a good enough job on his back; it was starting to ache already. This test would certainly challenge his endurance, he thought, though not in the way Mrs. Warren anticipated. He was trying to distract himself by thinking of other things when, scarcely 25 minutes into his three hour incarceration, he felt his bladder twinge a little, indicating its apparent fullness. This mostly just disappointed him, because he knew it would be a while before he could relieve himself, and that meant two and a half hours of relative discomfort on top of what he was already feeling in his arms, rear end, and back. But he’d held out for far longer than that in the past on longer car trips, so he wasn’t worried about it. Since he hadn’t had a lot to drink this morning, it shouldn’t get any worse. Ten minutes later, though, it did get worse. He started to feel a lot of pressure, and tried to move again in an effort to make it less evident. But of course, he still couldn’t move. Doug smiled, feeling chagrined. It looked like it WOULD in fact be a little test to endure this kind of bladder discomfort for another two and a half hours. He tried to figure out why he was having so much trouble, and could only point to a combination of the beer he had had last night and the Gatorade this morning. Weird. Oh, well. He’d just have to put up with it. But fifteen minutes later found Doug about ready to burst. He swore and groaned, confused about how the beer from last night could still be affecting him. He had to concentrate now not to relax his bladder’s sphincter, which would be a disaster of epic proportion. He thought about how ironic it was that it was turning out to be so difficult to stay dry. This was certainly worse than any bladder fullness he’d ever experienced, and it was quite a shame it had to happen today. As he hit one hour into his test, Doug was wondering how he’d find the strength to last the whole three hours. Suddenly he heard his abdomen gurgle. As he gritted his teeth against the tide of urine inside him, he attributed the grumbling to his lack of food today. Oh, well, he thought, too bad: his hunger would have to wait. Then he heard and felt more gurgles, which was followed by the abrupt onset of cramps. It took his breath away, and he fought to hold his bladder and withstand the pain at the same time. This wasn’t hunger. The pain subsided, but the gurgling continued and became nearly constant, and within two minutes, Doug was surprised by an overwhelming sensation of fullness in his rectum. It begged for immediate release, but Doug quickly clamped down with all his strength, and his sphincter survived the initial onslaught. He was, however, shocked at the abruptness of the urge, and at its strength, and as he tightened his bottom and bladder muscles as much as he could, he wondered what the hell was going on. He must be sick. Why did it have to happen now? His bowel cramps went away for a moment but were soon back with a vengeance. He felt severe abdominal pain and heard the gurgling continue, and battled the strong urge he had to relieve himself. He was now sure he was sick with something, and as he attempted to resist the beckoning call of nature, he started to get a foreboding feeling that it wouldn’t be possible to last another hour and forty-five minutes of this torture. Doug considered the options he had. He thought about appealing to the little black box sitting on the toilet in front of him. Surely he wasn’t supposed to be sick for this test: that wasn’t fair. Maybe Mrs. Warren would come back and let him out, and they could do this all over again some other time. But then he thought, how would he convince her he was really sick? As far as she knew, this impending inability to stay clean and dry might be typical for him, and this just represented an attempt to get out of wearing the diapers that she thought he needed. Anyway, she didn’t seem like the kind of lady who would bargain with him or entertain excuses. So he reluctantly had to dismiss that option. He was sweating now. He groaned again and again as he applied all the energy he could to maintain his continence. He had two other options, one of which was unthinkable. Either he could try to hold out, or he could give in to the strongest urges he had ever experienced. As difficult as it would be, he HAD to try to hold on, because he couldn’t imagine her coming back to find him wet and messy in this tub. The humiliation would be too great, not to mention the consequences… And then it happened. It was at one hour, thirty-five minutes in. He was tiring of fighting, and the cramps had gone away briefly, so he had relaxed slightly, only to feel what he thought may have been a little squirt escape from his bottom and soak into his underpants. He wasn’t sure, though. For that to have happened would simply be impossible, and the consequences too dire. It must have been a mistake. Just to check, he shifted weight to see if his underpants felt wet or squishy. As he did so, he felt another little squirt escape his anal sphincter, and then his underpants felt undeniably wet. When he first felt that sensation, he caught his breath. In fact, his whole sense of time slowed down. His world froze as he focused all his attention on confirming the damp sensation between his legs. He didn’t want to believe it. But even as he hoped he hadn’t done what he thought he’d done, he felt more effluent emerging from his tortured bottom. He resumed breathing, this time more quickly, in a panic. This couldn’t be happening. It was unthinkable. And yet his underpants were certainly wet, and now felt a little full as well. And then, in another moment, the smell from his actions caught up with his nose as well. No doubt, now. For the first time since he was about three or four, he’d accidentally soiled his pants. Not much, of course, but he could surmise the consequences of even the slightest accident. Surely his underpants were clearly stained, and Mrs. Warren would see, and say he was incontinent, and then… For the first time, he began to ponder what failing this test might mean. And he had to face the fact that he had failed it. Even now, as he continued to struggle against his bowels and bladder, it was over. It wasn’t fair, of course, for this wasn’t a representative three hours for him. He was sick, or still hung over, or something. It wasn’t fair, and he ought to get another chance. But he bet he knew what Mrs. Warren would say. He’d taken his shot, and had somehow blown it. Somehow he had failed his “continence test.” He repeated this inside his head as he groaned with the continuing pain. He couldn’t believe it. He glanced at the clock, which showed that he still had another 80 minutes left. Now his choice of what to do seemed less clear. Why, if he had already failed the test, should he be tortured with this pain and discomfort for the rest of the time? Trying to limit the damage did nothing for his situation. And perhaps, he thought in the desperate musings of a man in severe pain, if he gave in and relieved himself fully, she would come back and see that it wasn’t just a little leak, that he was in fact ill. Maybe that was his only chance. Only another minute passed before he decided to spend the next hour and a half in relative comfort. It certainly wouldn’t take much to make him feel better, just a little relaxation, and then she’d see it was all a mistake… He lifted himself up on one hip and relaxed his sphincter a little, only to be truly shocked at the force with which his bowels exploded. With nowhere to go, his watery bowel movement shot down his pants legs and up his back. It felt so good not to hold it any more that he started pushing when the flow slowed down. He pushed as hard as he could, and was gratified by how much better his bowels felt. When that discomfort had subsided, it made the pain from his bladder seem even worse, and he took a minute to think about whether there was any point to trying to fight that urge as well. After all, his poop was so watery, it had soaked his pants anyway: what could peeing hurt? She’d probably never know about that, for most would go down the drain or evaporate. So he relaxed his bladder as well, and a wonderful feeling of relief came over him. Unfortunately, somehow the way his penis happened to be positioned turned the onslaught of urine not down his crotch, but up into his lap, which had been the only dry spot remaining on his jeans. He looked down and realized there was no way he could pass off the dark stain in his lap as anything other than having wet himself. He lowered himself back down to the tub surface and felt a warm squish envelope his bottom, crotch, and most of each leg. What a mess. It didn’t feel particularly bad immediately, but over the next few minutes, as his mess cooled off, he realized that he wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable as he’d thought. In fact, he wasn’t sure that it wasn’t worse now. He wiggled his legs helplessly. He wanted to change now. He’d traded one discomfort for another, and the bad part was, this discomfort would be way more embarrassing when Mrs. Warren returned. It felt horrible, it clearly looked bad, and it was beginning to stink, too. But he’d done it, and now, he told himself, he had to sit in it. What was worse was that every few minutes he’d discover the need to expel more effluent into his pants. At this point, he didn’t even think about it, though. He couldn’t really make things worse. So every five minutes or so he eased himself up and pushed more poop and pee out into his wet, brown, full underpants. And in between his repeated soilings and wettings he had plenty of time to consider how embarrassed he’d be when Mrs. Warren came back and saw him in this state. Before, when he had done it on purpose, no one ever saw him. How humiliating to have had any accident, but especially one of this magnitude! And as he sat there in his wet mess he became more sure that she’d never let him try again. She’d been right all along, she’d think: he clearly needed diapers. And as he grunted and relieved himself once more, he wondered briefly if she was right. As the time dragged on, Doug became more uncomfortable than he could ever remember being. His arms burned, his hands were numb, his back was stiff, and his bottom and legs were cold, wet, and squishy. This isn’t at all the way he thought things would turn out. He watched as his clock crept toward the three hour mark, indicating that his test was over, and at the exact instant it read three hours, he heard a key turn a lock in his front door downstairs. Chapter 4 Damn, he thought, she’s good. He listened to the sounds of Mrs. Warren climbing the stairs, whistling to herself. He saw her enter the bathroom with her clipboard in her hand. “Whew!” she commented. “Smells like there’s a little boy who has some stinky pants that need changing.” He lowered his eyes in silence. Words couldn’t describe how humiliated he felt as he sat tied up in his bathtub with very messy and wet pants. She made it worse by laughing when she looked closer at him. “Well, I hope you don’t mind my pronouncing judgment BEFORE we look at your underpants, but I think it’s quite safe to say you didn’t exactly pass this test.” She chuckled again. “I mean, I’ve seen other little boys fail, but not with so much enthusiasm.” She leaned over to inspect him. “You certainly did quite a number on those pants, and it’s probably a blessing that you won’t be needing to wash those underpants. I’d suggest tossing those out. I don’t even WANT to know what color they are now. Deal?” she asked cheerfully as she packed her timer and monitor into her little black bag. He couldn’t speak. He was simply mortified. That this could happen at all, that anyone would see him, that she would make fun of him. It was all so terrible. She sat on the toilet lid to talk to him, then saw his expression and knew his feelings. “Oh, don’t worry, little boy,” she said, reaching over to stroke his hair maternally. “As I said, I’ve had lots of boys fail my test. You weren’t the first. “And likewise, you won’t be the first to wear diapers for me, either. It doesn’t have to be a big deal at all, if you just accept it. Life goes on, even if you have an accident, and even if you’re wearing diapers.” “But…” Doug tried to speak for the first time. “But I really don’t NEED to wear diapers,” he insisted, nearly in tears. “I’m NOT incontinent.” “Uh, huh, of course you aren’t,” Mrs. Warren said with a patronizing lilt. “But your pants might want to argue with you. Maybe we don’t understand what incontinent means?” she suggested gently. “No,” he said acidly. “I know exactly what it means. I’m just saying that I had horrible luck today. I’m sick, I think, and I had a lot of beer last night. I…I never have accidents normally,” he sputtered with exasperation. “No, you’re not sick,” she replied. “Part of it was the diaper juice.” “What?” “The diaper juice,” she repeated. This was always tricky. “It wasn’t Gatorade you drank, though it is very similar. It had a touch of a mild laxative in it,” she lied. Giving a hint of the truth often helped her credibility. But she found it best to keep him doubting his ability to stay clean and dry. He’ll be easier to manage in the short run if he wonders whether he actually needs the diapers. “I like to call it diaper juice because it helps me decide who needs diapers. You see, it doesn’t make everyone soil their pants, just those with some underlying incontinence. If your sphincters are a little weak anyway, this stuff will tip you over the edge, and you’ll have an accident. Or two,” she added, noting the wetness in his pants as well. “My company has spent a lot of time testing this drink, and we’ve found that the vast majority of people are a little ‘challenged' by the test, but that they stay clean and dry with no real problems. Only those we know by other tests to be incontinent had a soiling problem. It turns out to be quite a valid test," she concluded. She had phrased that well. He ought to believe that story. "Of course, that doesn't really explain why you wet your pants as well. The diaper juice doesn't have anything in it to cause that. You did that on your own," she lied. As Doug heard this, Mrs. Warren's words made his head spin. So, it had been a laxative, but he should have been able to hold it. But he didn't, so was he really incontinent? And he had peed in his pants, too, so that juice wasn't entirely to blame. He didn't know what to think. He had to admit, it sounded like he had legitimately failed this test. But...but he simply wasn't incontinent. He mumbled this again, since it was his only line of defense. "That's simply denial," she responded easily. "And I don't blame you for using denial as a defense mechanism. Bladder and bowel control are some of our most elemental skills. It's embarrassing and a little scary when we discover somehow that we have lost it to some degree, even if it's just temporary. “I know that you are scared and embarrassed. Now, I can't tell you why you are incontinent, only a doctor can. And Mrs. Sheffield says you've been to see a doctor already about it, so I'll take your word for it, and we don't need to address the reasons WHY you're incontinent. Our job is to deal with it." Doug cursed himself for having mentioned a doctor in his made-up story about needing diapers last Saturday. But he never thought it would be used against him. She went on. "But whether you choose to accept it or not, or whether you were aware of it or not, today we have proven that you have a problem with incontinence." He still felt dizzy. She sounded so reasonable. "But if I AM incontinent, I should have known about it. Right?" he asked, almost to himself. "And I'm sure you did, on some level, but you chose to ignore it, or not to believe it. Perhaps we can find some other earlier clues. Think back,” she urged. “I bet you can remember wetting your bed, or having daytime accidents when you were very little. Right?" He nodded. He could. But couldn't everyone? "Studies we have done have shown that our incontinent clients have specific memories like that more often than people with good control. “And this makes sense. If you can remember such incidents, you were probably older than most people by the time you gained control, and late bloomers often have trouble throughout life with bladder and bowel control." This was a fabrication she had practiced many times, and it usually had the desired effect. It did here. She could see that it had made him think. Time to hit him with more lies. "Here's another clue. Another subtle sign of an underlying incontinence problem is if after you pee (and I mean intentionally, in the toilet) you ever have a little problem dribbling into your underpants once you're finished. Normal men don't have this problem, but all of my other little boys do, and it's another pretty sensitive sign." Of course, Mrs. Warren chuckled to herself, how could this boy know that was a lie? Most men didn't examine other men in public restrooms. And indeed, Doug looked shocked. He had thought that a little dribbling was normal. Mrs. Warren smiled. Time to hit him with the big one. "Finally