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Real Age

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  1. Thank you, CDfm, for pointing out the issues. I hope I fixed them all. If anyone sees any more errors, please don't hesitate to point them out. Update: I think I got them all this time. *** Do I have to? by nautybaby "Do I really have to?" "I really think you should." "But I don't want to." "We've been over this." "But I don't need them." "Last night and the laundry I've been doing lately says otherwise." "It won't happen again. I promise." "I've heard that before." "It's not fair!" "Fair or not, I won't have you ruining my friend's bed." "No!" I shouted. "You can't make me." "David!" she said sharply without raising her voice. "That's enough. I think we both know I can make you. Now, get your butt on that bed, and keep your voice down. That is unless you want Sharon to hear you getting a spanking on top of the tantrum you've been throwing." "You wouldn't," I blanched. "Try me." I looked into her steely eyes and slowly made my way to the bed. I lay down and gave her a pleading look. She simply grabbed the waist of my pajamas and began to tug. I gave in and lifted my bottom, allowing her to pull them down. She reached into my suitcase and pulled out the object of my dread. She had shown me the diapers before we left, but no matter how many times I saw them, I never got over just how big and thick they actually were. "Lift." I did and fought the urge to cry. She made short work of securing the diaper around my waist. She put the pajama bottoms back in my suitcase and locked it. "If you behave yourself, you can have those back in the morning." "You don't mean…" "We'll see. Now, get in bed." That was the end of a conversation that had been going on all day. Conversation, humph. Argument more like. It started when we were packing for the trip. I thought we were about ready when she brought out the package of diapers. "Are those what I think they are?" "Isn't that obvious?" "What do you have those for?" "Seriously?" "You don't expect me to wear those?" "I certainly do." "No way." "Yes way." "I won't." "You will. Now, hurry up. We're already late," she said, loading a number of the diapers into the case. "I don't need them. I've only had a couple of problems." "It started out as a couple of problems. It's gotten to be almost every night." "Yeah, almost. See, it's getting better. I'm not going to wear them." "You are going to wear them, and that's final. Now, get dressed." She said all this so matter-of-factly that it made my blood boil. I stomped over to the suitcase and started taking the diapers out. I felt a sharp sting in my right bottom cheek. I shot up straight and turned around. "You will put those back, unless you want some more." Her eyes were hard. "No," I said with more confidence than I felt. "David, put those back right now, or so help me…" I stood my ground, hoping my trembling didn't show. "Is that really the way you want to play it? Have it your way." I thought I had won the battle. That feeling lasted only a second before pain erupted from my ear. She spun me around by it and threw me face down on the bed. There was a knee in my back and slaps were raining down on my underpants. "Stop. Stop!" "Are you going to pack your diapers and stop fussing?" "No!" "Fine. If that's the way you want it." "No!" I screamed, as my underwear was yanked down. After that, my words got less and less comprehensible until I was simply blubbering. Still not dressed, my belt was in handy reach to her. She put it to good use—good from her perspective anyway. "Are you ready to do as you are told?" "Yes," I sobbed. "Good. Finish packing and get dressed. We're leaving in five minutes. Don't make me have to 'encourage' you. And you can start with the diapers. I'll be back for the case in just a minute. It had better be ready." I hastily repacked the diapers and the rest of my clothes. True to her word, she was soon back, and after checking to see that I had indeed packed the diapers, she locked the case and took it downstairs. That left me a few minutes alone to nurse my bruised pride and bottom while I finished dressing. I found her behind the wheel of the car, waiting to get on the road. I climbed in the other side and sulked. We couldn't have been on the road for more than five minutes before I started restating my position about why I shouldn't have to wear diapers. She didn't argue with me. She listened in silence. I felt encouraged that I was making my point, my reasoning becoming more shrill the longer I went on. I found I was repeating myself, and she had yet to utter a word. My tirade petered out. After a minute of silence, she quietly asked, "Are you finished?" "Um, yeah, I guess." "Good. You've had your say. Now, I'm going to have mine. Like it or not, you have a problem. I've been extremely patient about it. I've even been the one to clean up after you. It's not going away. It's getting worse. We are going to be staying with my friend. I do not want you embarrassing me or yourself by wetting her bed. You are going to wear those diapers, and you are going to stop fussing about it. If you insist on being a big baby about it, I can treat you like one. That includes pulling this car over, spanking you again, and putting you in one of those diapers for the rest of the trip. I'm already not happy with you. Would you like to try your luck?" "No." "Good." The trip was mostly silent aside from some tunes softly playing on the radio. I stared out the window, opting to table the discussion for the time being. Occasionally, she nudged me and told me to stay awake, unless I wanted to put a diaper on and take a nap. Eventually, I faced forward, so she could see I was awake, and pouted. If I had been eight or ten or even twelve, I suppose these events would be understandable. But I was not twelve, and the woman driving was not my mommy. I was thirty-two, and she was my wife. When we arrived, Kathy, my wife, and Sharon hugged and air kissed like long-lost sisters. Sure, we lived far enough apart that they didn't see each other often, but they were on the phone at least once a week. I shook my head and got the bags. "Sorry we're late," Kathy said. "Packing took a bit longer than I expected." I had the impression that comment was aimed at me, but I ignored it. "Don't worry about it. It's just so good to see you. I know how it can be. You should try it with a baby sometime. I still can't believe the amount of stuff I had to get ready for Phil to take Abby for the week." I tried to picture Sharon's ex taking care of a baby on his own. I don't know if I found the images more funny or frightening. Oh well, maybe one of his girlfriends will help him out. "Yes," Kathy mused. "Packing for a baby can be a lot of work." I was sure that was directed at me. Again, I chose to ignore it. "Come on inside. Dinner's almost ready. Dave, you can take those right upstairs, first door on the right. You know the spot." When I came downstairs, Kathy asked, "Did you wash your hands?" I didn't like the way they both giggled. "Yes, I washed my hands," I replied irritably. "Don't be grumpy. I was just asking." Dinner was a long drawn out affair. Kathy and Sharon went on and on about this one and that one. I was mostly ignored, which suited me fine. I didn't have the slightest interest in whoever and whatever they were talking about. Mainly, I just picked at my food and drank more than my share of wine. During a lull, Sharon turned to me, "So, Dave, what's new and exciting with you these days?" "Nothing much," I mumbled. "Don't mind him," Kathy interjected. "I think he's just overtired from the trip. I'm sure he didn't mean to be rude." Her accusing tone was not lost on me. "Sorry. I guess I am a little tired." "I think we better get you into bed then." "Why, Kathy!" Sharon exclaimed. "I meant to sleep, you sex fiend," she laughed. "Come on, Davey, upstairs." Whether it was the trip or the wine, I was tired. I bade Sharon goodnight and climbed the stairs ahead of Kathy. "You go potty, then meet me in the bedroom," she said. Not thinking, I did as instructed. When I got to the bedroom, I saw her laying out the diaper on the bed. That's where you came in. Kathy had me tucked in and started to leave to room. "Where are you going? Aren't you coming to bed?" "Not just yet. Sharon and I have more to talk about, and there's most of a bottle of wine it would be a shame to waste. You go to sleep, and I'll be up in a while. I lay there for a time, replaying the day in my head. If I hadn't been tired and buzzed, I might have been more upset. Every now and again, I would hear their raucous laughter. I did my best not to believe they were talking about my sleeping attire. My thoughts turned to how I got into this mess in the first place. It started about month before. I had gotten a new boss, and it wasn't going well. Nothing seemed to please him. There was always something wrong, and no matter how small the problem was, he acted like it was the end of civilization as we know it. The harder I tried to anticipate what was wanted, the farther my attempts were from what he had in mind. I tried to get clearer instructions, but that only seemed to make him madder. It was really taking a toll on me and, no doubt, on Kathy. I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't set work aside at the end of the day. All I could think of was what the next confrontation was going to be about. I was distracted and short tempered. Even my dreams were filled with anxieties about everything that had happened and visions of what might be ahead. When I was able to sleep at all, it wasn't good. After a week of mostly sleepless nights, I found myself shaken awake by Kathy. I was completely disoriented and not hearing what she was saying. I don't know how many times she repeated it before it finally sank in. "David, wake up. You wet the bed." "What?" "You wet the bed." I rolled toward her, and it dawned on me. I wet the bed. That's right. She said that. Still only half awake, all I could say was, "I'm sorry." Kathy told me to go to the bathroom and clean up, and she would take care of the bed. Still to fuzzy to think, I did as she told me. My wet pajamas cooled quickly as I went. I stripped off and sat on the toilet, trying to clear my head. By the time I was awake enough to push out the little pee I had left and get washed up. I was deeply embarrassed by what I had done. I almost wanted to stay in the bathroom just to avoid having to look at Kathy. When I did come out, she was smoothing out towels over the wet spot. I almost went back in. "Good, you're finally back. Help me get the clean sheets on. Maybe we can still get some sleep before we have to get up." I picked up the bottom sheet and shook it out. She signaled she was ready, and I fluffed it over the bed. The two of us made short work of remaking the bed, and I thought Kathy was being really good about the situation. "Did you make sure to go peepee while you were in there?" So much for that. "Yes," I said, a bit more harshly than I intended. "Don't get snippy with me. I'm not the reason we're changing sheets in the middle of the night." "Sorry," I said, and I meant it. "Me too. Let's go back to bed, and we'll forget all about it. Okay?" "Okay," I said and hugged her tight. "I love you, and I am sorry." "I love you too. Now, go to sleep. Morning's going to come awfully early." That was easier said than done. I don't know how Kathy managed it. I lay there listening to her breathing, wondering how I could have wet myself and worrying that I might do it again. I think I drifted off just before the alarm went off. Work the next day was miserable. Besides the usual grief from my boss, my eyes were burning, and my head was pounding all day. By the time I got home, I was an exhausted wreck. After pushing my dinner around the plate for a while, I told Kathy I was going to bed. "I think that's a good idea. You had a rough night, and you look awful." "Thanks a lot." "You know what I mean. Go on. I'll clean up here. Don't forget to use the potty before you go night-night." "Not funny!" "Oh, come on. You know I'm joking. You may as well laugh as cry. It was just a one-time thing. Go get some rest, and I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning." I nodded and followed her advice, even stopping to "use the potty" on the way. Totally wiped out, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Not that it brought much rest. My dreams were the now usual of instant replays and anxious fantasies I had suffered for days. "Wake up, David," I heard, before I felt the shaking. "David, wake up." Once I realized it was Kathy, and not my mother trying to get me up for school, I sat bolt upright, panicking that I had done it again. "I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it." "It's alright, Dave," she said soothingly. "You didn't do anything. You didn't, did you? You were just having a bad dream. But as long as you're up, you may as well use the potty, just to be safe." I apologized and kissed her, and then decided a pee might be a good idea at that. There was a small wet spot on my pajama pants, but the bed was dry. I didn't mention it, and if Kathy noticed, she was kind enough to let it pass. Having limited my fluids all day, I don't know where it all came from. I did know I feel a lot better when I climbed back into bed. I slept better that night and felt more like my old self in the morning. That lasted for about an hour after I got to work. Then it was what had come to be business as usual. It was a particularly bad day. I was pushed and pulled in so many directions, I was beginning to doubt the sky was blue. If I had been thinking clearly, I probably would have guessed it was going to happen again. Kathy was again supportive and more patient than I felt I deserved. Again, she got us cleaned up and back to sleep in short order. I had a few good days, with no nighttime problems, even though things were just as bad, if not worse at work. I was starting to feel confident when it happened a third time. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream, and I think Kathy knew it. Once back in bed, she held me and whispered reassuring things until I went to sleep. The pattern continued, and I ended up having five wet nights in two weeks. After the last of those, Kathy sat me down in the morning. "Dave, this… um… problem you've been having is not getting better. I think you should see somebody about it." The thought of telling my doctor and friend, George Simmons, that I was wetting the bed filled me with dread. "That's not really necessary. I'm sure it will stop on its own. It's not that big a deal." "Says the man who's not washing the sheets. You're right. It may be nothing serious, but then again it might be. And, frankly, I'm getting tired of being woken up in the middle of the night and having to clean up after you. Get on that phone and make an appointment, or I'll do it for you." "Alright, alright, I'll call." I was greatly relieved when George's office told me they couldn't fit me in for at least two weeks. I begged off making an appointment, telling them that I was just feeling a little under the weather, and it would probably pass before they could see me. Kathy was not happy but understood it was not my fault, and she let the matter drop. Or so I thought. That afternoon, I got a call from her telling me to meet her at Dr. MacPherson's office at 4:30. Having to tell my boss I needed to leave early while avoiding the reason was not a pleasant conversation to say the least. I was happy just to get out of there when the time came. At least, I was until I was on the way and started thinking about what was going to happen at the appointment. Margaret MacPherson had been my doctor growing up. Her general practice had served all my family, and Kathy became her patient shortly after we were married. After college, when I had some voice in the matter, I insisted that seeing a female doctor was uncomfortable, and that's when I came under George's care. I was not looking forward to going back to her. Dr. MacPherson—I never could bring myself to call her anything else—literally knew me inside and out. She had seen me through all my childhood illnesses, broken bones, acne, and everything else. To me, she would always be Dr. MacPherson. Kathy, on the other hand, having come to her later in life, always call her Margaret. They had become fast friends, and Dr. MacPherson was almost a surrogate mother to Kathy. Kathy and I were called back shortly after I arrived. We were shown into a room where Dr. MacPherson was waiting for us. "Kathy, how wonderful to see you! And Davey, just look at you, so grown up!" With her rosy cheeks, halo of white hair, and the soft Glasgow burr that never left her, it was impossible to be upset by her comment. She was everybody's favorite grandmother. "Hello, Dr. MacPherson. It's nice to see you again." "And you too, dear. How is your mother? I miss seeing her since she moved away." "She's well, thank you. I'll tell her you were asking after her." "Oh, yes, do. So, what brings you in today?" I sat there trying to think of some way to tell her why I was there. I could feel my face getting redder and redder. Still, no words would come out. Finally, Kathy just took over. "Davey," she said, using the same boyhood nickname, "has been having some problems keeping the bed dry at night." There it was, right out on the table. "Oh! Is your wee problem back, dear?" the doctor asked gently. She placed her hand on top of mine reassuringly but couldn't avoid a small titter at her unintended pun. I'm sure Kathy had thought she was trying to be discrete about the issue, but it felt more like a mother trying to be gentle about a child's potty-training setbacks. My mother had used almost those same words many years before. "Back?" Kathy asked. "Oh my, yes, dear," she said without regard for my embarrassment. "Davey was quite the little waterworks when he was a boy, weren't you, Davey. I wondered for a long time if we would ever get him out of nappies." It finally dawned on her that this was extremely uncomfortable for me. I am sure that my face was bright red. I could feel heat radiating from the blush. "But that was a long time ago, wasn't it dear? What seems to be the problem?" Without hesitation, Kathy began describing my symptoms as if I weren't in the room or too small to speak for myself. "He doesn't seem to be sleeping well. He's constantly tossing and turning, and he's always still tired when he wakes up. He's been distant and irritable, and every few days, he wets the bed." "Oh, I'm so sorry. What seems to be the problem, Davey? Is something bothering you?" With some prompting and a great deal of prodding, I told the whole story about what was going on at work. Kathy knew or guessed some of it, but I did not want to let on just how bad it really was. Once they got me to open up, it all came pouring out. The exhaustion and that day's fight with the boss caught up with me, and I was sobbing by the time I finished the tale. I was calming down before I realized Kathy had pulled my head to her shoulder, and she was stroking my hair and shushing me gently. Dr. MacPherson's face was a mix of sympathy and anger. "It's just like that teacher you had all over again. Och, that woman! I'd still like to get my hands on her." She told the story of Mrs. Hannity, my fourth-grade teacher. She was nearing retirement and had a grandson who was a spoiled rotten little hellion. I had the misfortune of bearing him a striking resemblance, and she took out all complaints about him on me. I resented her accusations but came to half-believe that I was as bad as she made out. I fell into depressed and listless state, and my grades suffered. My mother asked me what was wrong, and I tried to tell her about my issues with the teacher and how unfair she was. My mother, of course, took the teacher's side and told me I had to stop being lazy and work harder, which is one of the things Mrs. Hannity accused me of. It all came to a head one day when I turned in a half-completed homework assignment. I had fallen asleep over the paper and didn't have time to finish it before school. Mrs. Hannity went on a tirade the likes of which I had never seen, not only about the homework but about the messy state of my desk and anything else she could think of. When she dumped my desk over onto the floor, I was so shocked and scared, I wet my pants. That stopped her ranting but infuriated her all the more. She went silent and the color rose in her face. She grabbed my ear and dragged me to the office. She told them she would not suffer a baby like me in her class. I sobbed and sobbed while the secretary called my mother. I was still in tears, shivering in my wet pants when she arrived. The ride home was no better, as she went on and on about how ashamed she was to have a boy my age wetting his pants in school, how I was going to have to apologize to everyone involved, and how was she ever going to be able to show her face again. I ran into the house, crying my eyes out. I stripped out of my wet clothes and threw myself on my bed and bawled my eyes out. It was all so unfair. I must have cried myself to sleep, because my mother was gently trying to rouse me. She appeared considerably calmer and asked me what had happened. I told her the whole story in lurid detail. The more I told her, the angrier she got but not at me. She took me in her arms and told me how sorry she was. When we had both settled down, she told me to wash up and get dressed. We were going back to the school. I begged her not to make me go. She told me not to worry about it, I would not have to be in Mrs. Hannity's class ever again, if she had anything to say about it. I followed with great reluctance as she strode into the office. "I want to see the principal. Now!" I had never seen my mother so forceful, not with adults anyway. I don't think the secretary had either, because we were shown into Mr. Mellon's office almost immediately. My mother really gave him an earful about all that had gone on. I was mostly ignored except to fill in some blanks and details. Mr. Mellon promised an investigation and said I'd be put into Miss Sanderson's class for the duration. For the year, my mother insisted and got her way. I don't know the full extent of what happened. I did have to tell the story one more time to some people I didn't know. Shortly after that, Mrs. Hannity "got sick," and we heard she was taking an early retirement. I felt and did better in Miss Sanderson's class. I think I even developed a little crush on her. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. From the day of the incident until a long time after, I had nightmares about it and started wetting the bed. Today, we would call it post-traumatic stress disorder, but not back then, especially not with children. My mother was patient for a time, but it was short-lived. She took me to Dr. MacPherson, who recognized the problem and was sympathetic to both of us and assured us it would pass in time. There was little she could do, however, and her only recommendation was "night nappies," as she put it, until I got over it. Despite my protests and promises not to let it happen again, my mother agreed there was no other option. She insisted that she was as embarrassed about it as I was, but I didn't think that was possible. That was the first of many nights my mother put me in a diaper. It did not come without an argument and a couple of slaps on my behind. The nightmares eventually stopped but the wetting didn't. I was in middle school before I was reliably dry, and the diapers were a thing of the past. Nevertheless, my mother kept a waterproof cover on my bed through high school, "just in case." Now, here I was again, facing the same problem for much the same reasons. Dr. MacPherson was again sympathetic and reassuring, but her solution was the same. She prescribed some antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication, but until I could deal with the stressors, I could expect more wet nights. The best thing was to start wearing nappies to keep the bed dry and allow us both a decent night's sleep. She recommended we get them from a medical supply store, as the ones to be found in supermarkets and pharmacies were virtually useless. She recommended a shop that could also fill my prescriptions. "Don't worry, dear," she comforted me. "I'm sure you'll get over it, and you'll be all dry in no time, just like before." Knowing how long that "before" lasted, I was not reassured. Kathy thanked Dr. MacPherson for both of us and promised to call her to have lunch soon. Dr. MacPherson bade us goodbye and made me promise to send her regards to my mother. Kathy drove us to the medical store. I begged her not to make me wear diapers. It was like reliving the argument with my mother all those years ago. Kathy would have none of it and insisted I go inside with her. There, she handed over the prescription and proceeded to ask the lady about "nighttime protection." She lady asked a lot of, to my mind, unnecessary and intrusive questions. Kathy went into lurid detail about the problems I was having and how heavily I wet. She insisted we should buy a whole case of their most absorbent product, saying she would take back any unopened packages if things cleared up in a short time, but the case lot was far more economical if the problem persisted. Kathy agreed, and I had to carry a huge box of all too conspicuously labeled "adult briefs" to the car. I took up the argument again at bedtime. It was just like been ten years old all over again, me begging and promising not to wet anymore, Kathy reasoning that I couldn't make that promise, and she wanted a good night's sleep. It all got rather heated until Kathy gave me a couple of swats on the behind and told me that was enough. I was again the little boy at the mercy of his mother. I lay down and let her put the dreaded thing on. Memories flooded back as she raised the thick padding between my legs. I was weeping when she fastened the last tape and gave the front a pat. I lay awake for a time, feeling sorry for myself, but the drugs kicked in, and I soon drifted off. I'm pretty sure I had nightmares again, mixed up visions of my boss and Mrs. Hannity. I panicked when Kathy shook me awake. I quickly felt for the felt for the wet spot and blurted out that I didn't wet the bed. Kathy told it was just time to get up, and I realized there was sunlight coming in the window. I was relieved until Kathy gave my crotch a squeeze. We both knew in an instant that I had not had a dry night. Not dry at all, I realized when I stood, and the diaper sagged between my legs. It was with a good deal of depression that I took it off and had my shower, and I still had work to look forward to. It was hard to think of anything else that day, and my boss was no better than usual. The only thing that got me through was the thought that I would be leaving for vacation that afternoon. I had used some accumulated sick time to take the extra half-day off for the drive to Sharon's house. I was happy to leave the office and my boss behind. Those were my thoughts as I drifted off. Soon enough, I felt Kathy climb in next to me. She curled up against my back, and I felt her hand work around to the front. She squeezed my crotch, and I thought she was up to something good. Then I heard her whisper. "You'll last till morning." Whereupon, she rolled over. I was too much asleep to fully comprehend what she meant. There must have been a part of me that did understand, as I slept fitfully after that. I have vague recollections of dreams wherein I was being scolded by my mother for wetting my pants… again. When I felt Kathy shaking me awake, I didn't feel much more rested than when I went to sleep. To top it off, my head was pounding. "Good thing we put that on you. I hope that satisfies you that I know what I'm doing, and we won't have a problem again tonight." I felt the squish when I rolled over, as well as a pounding in my skull. I couldn't bear to look at her, but I managed to mumble a dejected, "No." She reached down and undid the tapes. I tried to help, but she just swatted my hands away. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'm sure it will make you feel better. There's coffee waiting when you're done." She handed me my pajama pants, and I took her up on her advice. The shower did help. I felt almost human when I got out. If only that guy would lay off the drums. Not ready for the rigors of getting dressed, I returned to my pajamas and a robe and went downstairs. Coffee, lots of it, finished the job. By the time I had had something to eat, I was moderately ready to face the day. "Okay," Kathy said. "Get dressed. We're going shopping." I groaned, showing none of the enthusiasm she had. "Shopping? Really? Do I have to go? I'm still tired, and my head hurts." I admit it. I was whining. "Yes, you have to go. You're not going to just waste the day or get into who knows what kind of trouble. Besides, it's your own fault your head hurts. Now, upstairs; scoot." "You know," Sharon intervened. "He does still look a little green behind the gills." That made me like Sharon a little more. Kathy looked me over. "Hmm, maybe. We'll discuss it while he gets dressed. Let's go." Kathy shut the bedroom door, and I turned to her. "Don't make me go. You know I'll be useless and bored, and I really don't feel all that well." "You do look a little under the weather," she conceded. "Though I don't know why you should be rewarded for tying one on last night." "It's not a reward. Trust me, I'm being punished for last night. Please let me stay here. You two will have a lot more fun without me." "You're probably right at that. But I'm not so sure about leaving you here alone. If you're as tired as you say you are, you'll probably take a nap, and that risks Sharon's furniture. No, you'll just have to come along." "Please, honey, I'll stay awake, I promise. Besides, I never have problems during the day." "That's because you don't sleep in the day. I think it's best you come along." "Aww! Please don't make me. Nothing will happen; I promise." I gave her my best puppy dog eyes. "Well," she considered, "I suppose there might be one way." "Yes! Yes! Whatever you say. Just don't make me go with you." "You're sure now? It really means that much for you to stay here?" "Yes! Absolutely. I'll do it." "Alright, but you insisted. There's no turning back now. Go potty, and we'll get your diaper on." "What!" "That's the deal. You said you are too tired to go, and I can't trust you to stay awake or not wet in your sleep. If you stay home, I want you in a diaper. That way I can feel safe if you do take a nap." "But I said I'd stay awake. I have work I can do. That'll keep me awake." "We're on vacation. You shouldn't be working. Besides, we both know how well you stay on task without someone to watch you. No, diapers or shopping; it's your choice." I was torn. It was bad enough having to wear them at night, but at least I could ignore them then. On the other hand, department stores, fitting rooms, girl talk. "Fine. You win." And I went across to the bathroom. The diaper was already laid out when I got back. Condemned to my fate, I took off my clothes and lay down. Kathy efficiently diapered me. "Wait a second. What if I have to pee?" "That should be obvious." "But I'll be awake." "This was your idea." "It was not my idea! It was yours." "Alright, maybe the idea was, but it was your choice, and it's been made. We're not wasting that diaper, just because you didn't think it through." She appeared to be thinking of something. She reached in her purse and pulled out a marker. Before I knew what she was up to, she was marking her initials over the intersections of the tapes and the plastic. "That'll make sure you don't try taking it off as soon as I'm out the door. If you do, I'll know, and you'll get that spanking, Sharon or no Sharon." She got thoughtful again, and then she threw me for a loop. She pulled out another diaper. "What are you going to do with that?" I asked, shocked. "I'm going to double diaper you. I don't know how long we'll be out, and I can't take a chance of your leaking. The two should hold all your peepees. Up." It was obvious I was not going to win here. I let her put it on me. She used her long fingernails to poke a few holes in the inner one before taping up the outer. She repeated the trick with the marker. She gave the whole package as couple of satisfied pats. "There, all snug and safe and ready for your day. Now, since you claim you are not feeling well, I expect you to take it easy. Nap if you can. I want you feeling better, so we can do things together the rest of our stay." "Okay," I sighed. "Don't take that tone. You got what you wanted." I hadn't but didn't argue the point. "Get dressed and come say goodbye to Sharon and me." Kathy left the room, and I stood up to dress. The bulk between my legs was incredible. A bowlegged waddle was all I could manage. I tried to put on some khakis, but it wasn't happening. I resigned myself to putting my pajamas back on and threw on my robe. Stairs aren't easy when you can't put your knees together. I had to take them one at a time, and each one was accompanied by a distinct rustling I really hoped only I could hear. I stood as still as I could by the door and let the ladies come to me for a quick kiss and hug goodbye. Kathy surreptitiously patted my bottom and told me to be a good boy. I'm sure I jumped. I only hoped Sharon didn't notice, but her smile didn't make me optimistic. I watched them drive away and wondered what I was going to do with myself. It was difficult to walk normally, and the crinkling, exceptionally loud to my ears, was distracting. I did have some work I could do, but I wasn't enthused by the prospect. I got out my laptop anyway and set up at the kitchen table. After getting a cup of coffee and checking my email, all junk, I opened my work project. I stared at it for fifteen minutes or so before closing it down again. I was on vacation and in no mood to work. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for much of anything. The double thick diaper kept me focused on my problems and my plight. I figured, or hoped anyway, that I was not alone. Surely there were other men this happened to. Maybe there was some advice on how to handle the situation, preferably advice that did not rely on diapers. If I could show Kathy some alternative, maybe she would relent. The internet was not coming to my rescue. Oh, there was some consolation in finding out that I was not the only adult who experienced bedwetting problems. Most of the information indicated that they were stress related and would eventually pass along with the stressors. There were other causes that were, quite frankly, kind of scary. I would have to consider seeing a doctor. Not my regular doctor. I thought I would die if I had to tell George about this problem. The shock for me, though, was not the number of people who had the problem but the number who seemed to revel in it and the number who didn't have it but wanted to. The number of stories, true, fictional, or mixed, was staggering. Most seemed to be fantasy, or mostly so. That of itself was cause for thought. The number of those where the problem was dealt with by the sufferer's wife, girlfriend or mother enforcing the use of diapers was frightening. Apparently, I was not alone, either in diapers or in being spanked. At least some of the stories had to contain some truth. While I was reading, my morning coffee was catching up with me. I made a vow that I would wait it out and show Kathy my wearing diapers was ridiculous, at least during the day. I was not quite so confident about nighttime. Unfortunately, the amount of coffee I drink, and the effects it has on my bladder, made me doubt my resolve pretty quickly. I held on for as long as I could, but after a couple of painful spasms and a look at how little time had gone by, I knew I couldn't take it. The flood that followed was mind-blowing. As hard as it is to admit, the relief, after fighting the urge for so long, was almost orgasmic. That is until the reality of the situation began to sink in. I was sitting there in a soaking wet diaper, a grown man wallowing in his own pee. I could feel the wetness all around me, and I was sure that I had to have leaked. I stood up and checked the chair, bone dry. I checked out the diaper as best I could. Except for a few small spots between my legs, where I remembered Kathy poking holes, it showed no sign of what I did. I felt disgusted with myself but relieved I hadn't flooded the kitchen. Under Kathy's implicit threat and my explicit promise, I knew I was stuck in this situation until they got back. I could only hope it wouldn't be too long and that Kathy would give me some warning of their return. It was going to be bad enough facing her, having wet myself. The idea that Sharon might notice was unthinkable. Having no way out of my predicament without making Kathy more mad at me, I went back to my research. I decided to concentrate on how people like me felt about the situation. "People like me," there was a strange thought. Only hours before, I would have considered identifying a community of adults in diapers crazy. As expected, I found embarrassment, depression, and a fair amount of self-loathing. I did not expect to find so many people who gave every impression that they enjoyed being in diapers. I certainly never expected to find that group that referred to themselves as Adult Babies, people who actively sought out the opportunity to relive the experience of being toddlers or even younger. I found the pictures rather disconcerting. Was that where I was headed? It was inevitable that I would have to pee again while I surfed away. The need was less pronounced, and the hour was getting later. Again, I tried to hold off. I hadn't lasted very long when the other effect coffee has started to hit me. I was not going to give into that one, but holding that back made the pressure on my bladder worse. Eventually, it came down to a choice of the lesser of two evils. I was already wet, so the decision to wet some more was not difficult. The feeling was not as intense as before, but I did feel a lot better, and the other urge seemed to abate. I was hungry now, and made myself some lunch, just a quick sandwich and some juice. More coffee seemed like a bad idea. Eating took my mind off my troubles for the moment. It also made me sleepy. I felt that a nap might not be such a bad idea after all and went upstairs to lie down. I guess I didn't realize how tired I was, as I was rather disoriented when I heard Sharon's bright announcement that they were home. I rolled over with a squish. I knew without looking that I had wet in my sleep, and the diaper was considerably fuller than when I came upstairs. I also realized my other problem was coming back with a vengeance. There was a deep rumble in my gut that would need attention and soon. I was trying to shake off the cobwebs and figure out what to do when I heard footsteps on the staircase. That made me panic, which didn't help my situation any. The door swung open, and there was Kathy, thankfully alone. "What's the matter," she asked, concerned. "I… uh… hi," I said. "You must have needed that nap," she said, walking over to the bed. "Any problems while we were gone?" "Um… no… not really. Now that your home can I take this… thing off?" "Yes, I think so. Just let me make sure you were a good boy and didn't mess with it." Before I could stop her, she had the covers pulled back. I made a grab for my pajama bottoms, but she sharply slapped my hands. She wrestled the pants down while I begged her not to. "Oh my god! It's a good thing I put you in two. You're soaked." "Uh… yeah… you were gone a long time. Now please let me take this off. I have to go." "I can't imagine you have anything left in you." "Not that, the other." "Oh! Does my little boy have to go poopy?" she asked with a little too much relish. "Please, Kathy. This is hard enough." "Aww. Is it hard to hold it? Do you want to make a boom-boom in your diaper?" "Kathy, enough. Just let me up." I was getting desperate. "Don't get snippy with me, Mr. Soggybottom. Go on, if you have to go so bad." She got out of the way, and I leapt from the bed. I made for the bathroom and fell flat on my face. My pants were still around mid-thigh. The fall distracted me, and I pooped a little. Please don't let it smell, I hoped. Kathy was at my side in a second, helping me to my feet. She pulled up my pants and gave my bottom a pat. I started for the door. "Not so fast. Come back here." "Kathy, I really need to…" "Here. Now," she said, pointing at the floor in front of her. I clenched my cheeks and went to the spot. "Turn around." I knew arguing about it was not going to get me anywhere. I did as I was told and hoped against hope that what I knew was coming wouldn't. It did. She pulled back the waistbands of my pajamas and diapers and looked down the back. "I don't believe it. You did. You filthy little boy." She grabbed my ear and started dragging me toward the bathroom. That painful shock and sudden unbalance caused me to drop more into the seat of my pants. I felt sick. Kathy slammed the bathroom door behind us. "Really? Really? You actually pooped your pants. Unbelievable. What have you got to say for yourself?" I tried to come up with an explanation. My mouth moved, but nothing came out. Kathy gave an exasperated sigh. "Get those pajamas off." I did and turned to put them on a hook. "Did you go more?" She felt the back of my pants. "You did, didn't you? I can't believe you. Lie down." I squatted down slowly, trying to minimize the additional mess this was going to make. "Is everything alright in there?" Sharon was at the door! In that position, it was all too much for me. Whatever was left in my bladder and bowels found its way into my pants. It was all I could do to hold back the tears. "Yes, I guess so," Kathy sighed. "Just a little emergency we need to take care of." "Nothing serious, I hope." "Nothing a bath won't fix." "A bath?" Silence. "Oh. Well, never mind. Come down when you're ready. I'll start dinner." "Alright, stinker. Let's get you cleaned up." She started the bath running. That's when tears started. Thoroughly ashamed, I lay down and let Kathy untape the diapers. "Oh, God!" she choked. "Why did you do that in your pants? Why didn't you just take it off?" "You told me I couldn't!" "I know did, but I didn't mean you should…" She rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. "Okay. I guess this is partly my fault. I could have thought it through better and been clearer with you, but only partly. You're having some difficulties with your bladder, and I understand the reasons for that. It's okay. I just put you in a diaper to protect you and Sharon's furniture. But you are certainly old enough to know you shouldn't poop your pants, no matter what I said. I can't believe you did that." She sighed and dumped the poop in the toilet. "Just get in the shower. I'm getting a headache and can't talk about this now." I got in and let the stink and humiliation wash off of me. Clean and smelling better, I was feeling somewhat better when I got out. Then I noticed the diapers were gone. What had Kathy done with them? I didn't know what I would have done with them, but they had to go somewhere. What if Sharon saw them? My head was spinning, and my heart was pounding when I got dressed and went downstairs. Sharon didn't say anything when I entered the kitchen, but her sympathetic smile was all I needed to know the cat was out of the bag. Avoiding eye contact, I mumbled hello and took a seat at the table. I spent the remainder of the evening trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Despite knowing a diaper was in my future, I was almost looking forward to going to bed. When Kathy suggested I take my meds and make an early night of it, I had no objections. "Meds? Are you sick, Dave?" "No," Kathy explained for me. "Dave's been really stressed out at work, and the doctor just gave him something to get over the hump." "Oh, is that why he's…" She stopped short. "Well, I just hope you start feeling better real soon." "Thanks. Goodnight." I went upstairs with Kathy close behind. She closed the door behind us, and I turned on her. "How could you tell her?" I said sharply, keeping my voice low. "How could I not? I had to get rid of that diaper, and she was right there. There was no avoiding it." "But she… How can I face… I can't…" My frustration mounted as I tried to speak. Grasping for words, my emotions got the best of me, and my eyes filled with tears. "I want to go home." I sank down on the bed and cried. With my face in my hands, I sobbed, "Why? Why? Why? I can't do this anymore. I can't take it. I just want to die." Kathy grabbed my head and forced me to look at her. "Don't you ever say that! I love you. I don't want to live without you. You are not to even think like that, do you understand me? If you ever say anything like that again, I swear, I'll spank you so hard…" She sat down and took me in her arms. She was crying too. "We'll get through this, together. Just don't ever think about leaving me like that. I love you so much." We sat like that for a long time, holding each other and letting it all out. I was drained and hardly noticed when Kathy began to undress me. Filled with love for her, I started to caress her. "No, honey. I think we are both too tired for that tonight. Let's get your diaper on. It's been a rough day all around." Disappointed but with no strength to object, I let her dress me. She got me a glass of water to take my meds, and she tucked me into bed. She held me until I went to sleep. I don't remember her leaving, but I sort of noticed her getting back in. I rolled over and snuggled close to her. I was wet again the next morning but felt more rested. I was alone. There was a stack of clothes on the bed with a plastic bag and a note on top. "Get dressed and come downstairs. You can put your diaper in the bag and bring that with you." I put the wet diaper in the bag, had a quick wash and got dressed. I wasn't looking forward to carrying the object of my shame downstairs, but I and it couldn't stay there forever. Sharon and Kathy were having coffee in the kitchen. I tried to dispose of the package as discretely as possible, but I think I only managed to draw more attention to myself. "Honey, sit down. We need to talk about something." Here we go, I thought. This wasn't going to be good. Sharon brought me a cup of coffee. That helped some. "Sweetheart, I know you are really uncomfortable about all this, but I think we have to acknowledge the elephant in the room. We are all aware that you are going to have to wear diapers to bed for a while. There, I said it. Diapers, diapers, diapers. Pretending that you don't is making us all uncomfortable. Sharon understands, and so do I. It's not your fault; it's just the way things are right now. Your trying to hide from the fact is just creating more stress you don't need. So, as of now, we are going to stop walking on eggshells and simply accept your diapers as a fact of life. Among ourselves, we'll speak openly about them if needed, and we won't make a big deal about disposing of them. That will save us all a lot of worry and trouble." I just stared into my coffee cup. I did not want to look at anyone, especially Sharon. I was fine pretending. Having to acknowledge the problem to someone else was not something I wanted to do. "It's okay, Dave," Sharon said. "I know the pressure you are under, and I understand how you feel." "How could you?" "I see this all the time in my work. People come in all the time feeling overwhelmed by it all. They feel the whole world wants something of them they can't give. They feel powerless to change the situation or fight back. They react in all kinds of ways. All too many of them turn to drugs or alcohol, and that only makes things worse. All things considered, a little thing like bedwetting is not so bad." "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to wear…" "Diapers. You can say it. You're not weak or lazy or whatever else you are telling yourself to bring you down. It's a stress reaction, nothing more. From what Kathy tells me about your boss, I'm proud of you for not turning to something self-destructive. You just need to find a way to deal with the stress, to let it go, to feel empowered. You feel helpless, and I'm sure you think the diapers prove it. On the contrary, by wearing them, you are taking control of the situation by the best means possible. By wearing them, you're getting rest; Kathy's getting rest; the bed is staying clean and dry. The way I figure it, you've taken a big first step in getting better." "Thanks, I guess." I didn't really feel any better. "Dave," Kathy said, "I think there's something else you should consider. There's no rush, especially as we are on vacation; so, take as much time as you need. I think you should really think about quitting your job." "I can't just quit." "Not so fast, hear me out. Your boss is a bully. I'm sure he'll be found out eventually, but in the meantime, your life there is going to be miserable. I don't think you can really get better, if you stay there. You might learn to live with it, but at what cost? We've been doing alright. We don't actually need both our salaries. With a little bit of trimming, we can live on what I make. If it takes you a while to find something else, we'll make do. And I bet you could always get some work on a consulting basis. I'm not saying you have to quit, but it's an option, and you'll have my support. Just think it over." "I can't just let you support me," I protested. "You'd support me, if I had to quit, wouldn't you?" "That's different." "Why? Because you're a man? Look at the calendar. It's not the 1950s anymore. We're partners. We support each other, no matter what. If you never took another job and just stayed home and took care of the house, you'd still be supporting me. That's what we do. We have each other's back." "But I'd feel so…" "For a while, maybe," Sharon interjected, "but you'll get over that. I had a patient who went through much the same thing. He felt bad about it for a while, but once he got used to it, he loved being a househusband. He felt like he was making a real contribution. He was able to do things he never had time for. He makes a little money on the side from his hobbies. He's very happy. He says some of his friends tell him in private that they envy him." "I don't know…" "Just think about it. Take all the time you need," Kathy said. "A day, a week, a month, whatever you need, but think about it seriously. I think it would be good for you, but it's your decision. Whatever you decide, I'm behind you, but please, please, do consider it." "Alright," I said, as much to end the conversation as anything. "Good, it's settled." I didn't think it was settled at all but let it go. "Now, Sharon tells me there's an exhibition downtown that's right up your alley. Finish your coffee, and let's go." The exhibition was as good as advertised. I don't know about the girls, but I had a good time. Model trains aren't everybody's cup of tea. Kathy knew my fascination, even though I hadn't had a set since I was a kid. I think she was bored after the first ten minutes, but she let me have the run of the place to gawk over them. She and Sharon feigned interest when I explained all about the different scales and old rail lines. They smiled and nodded, and then let me run off to the next display while they hung about to talk. The rest of week was taken up with various activities. Some I enjoyed more than others, none as much as the trains. It was all a good distraction from my troubles and had me worn out by evening. Between the activity and the meds, I was getting some much-needed rest. When I woke up dry on Friday morning, I thought I was turning a corner. Kathy praised me, which actually made me feel a little worse, but I took it in the spirit it was intended and didn't say anything. That night, it was decided, we would stay in for movies and margaritas. I took it easy, because I didn't know how the alcohol would react with my meds. Kathy made up for it, drinking the rest of my share as well as her own. She was pretty toasted by the end of the evening. She knocked over her glass and cut here finger picking up broken pieces. I thought we might have to take her to the emergency room, but we got the bleeding stopped pretty quickly. "Geez, that hurts," she slurred. "Um, Sharon? I'm not sure I can take care of Davey like this. Would you mind?" "What!" Sharon and I said in unison. "This really hurts, and I'm not sure I can work the tapes." "I can do it myself." "I don't know that you can, and neither do you. You've never done it before, and it has to be harder to put one on yourself than someone else. I don't want you leaking all over the place by putting it on wrong, and I'm sure Sharon doesn't either." I looked to Sharon for support, but she had an amused grin on her face. She was actually warming to the idea. "You're right, Kathy. A diaper isn't much good if it leaks all over. Sure, I'll help out. I'm sure Davey won't mind." "But…" "It's not like she hasn't seen one before," Kathy said, anticipating my protest. "And it's just this one time. I'll be better tomorrow. You two go on upstairs. I'll clean up down here." "Just put everything in the sink. You shouldn't get that finger wet. Come on, Davey. Auntie Sharon will get you ready for night-night." "That's right," Kathy laughed. "You be a good boy for Auntie Sharon." I didn't like being treated like a little boy, but I wrote it off to their inebriation. I took Sharon's outstretched hand and followed her upstairs. She went right to work getting a diaper laid out for me. I stood there unsure I could go through with it. "Take off your pants, silly. We can't do anything with those on. Here, let Auntie help." Before I could react, she was undoing my pants and pushing them down. "Why, Davey! I'm flattered, but what would your mommy say?" I was deeply embarrassed by my tumescent state, but her reaction to it only made it worse. I started to apologize, but Sharon cut me off. "Don't worry about it. Little boys are always doing that when they get their diapers changed. Now, let's get those clothes off, so we can get you all wrapped up. We wouldn't want any accidents, would we?" Sharon was obviously more drunk than I thought. I hoped she, at least, wouldn't remember this in the morning. I told myself to just get through it, and finished undressing. I lay down on the open diaper and looked away, waiting for this to be over. "Oh, it looks like baby is getting a bit of a rash, I'd better get some powder for that." She started to leave but turned right around folded the front of the diaper up over me. "Just in case. You never know with boys." She was gone for a few minutes, which was enough for me to subside a little. She had just walked in the door when we heard a thud on the stairs. "Whoopsies," we heard between giggles. "You alright out there?" Sharon asked. "Yeah, fine. Be right up." There was another, smaller thump followed by more giggles. "Right up." Sharon shook her head, smiling, and got back to work. She drew back the diaper and sprinkled the powder, quite a lot in my opinion. That brought me back to my previous state. She started to smooth it, and I whimpered. Kathy chose that moment to walk in the door. "Davey, you naughty boy! I should spank you for that." "Don't spank him. He just a little sweet on his Auntie Sharon, aren't you, baby? Besides, you know how boys are. Remember when we used to babysit my cousins?" "Yes," Kathy laughed. "Roger especially. Did he get that from his father? Your aunt is a lucky woman." "So she says." All this talk was not helping my situation, neither was the fact that Sharon was still rubbing in the powder. Kathy sat down next to me. "Is that true, baby? Do you have a little crush on Auntie Sharon? Do you like it when she rubs you down there? Oops! I guess you do!" "Oh, dear. I guess we'll have to start over. I'll go get a washcloth." Sharon went to the bathroom, while I wished I could have died right there. "I guess wearing diapers has an upside after all," Kathy giggled. I just hoped she would feel the same way when she was sober. Sharon returned with a wet washcloth and with much greater efficiency, had me cleaned up, powdered and diapered in no time. I got up to put on my pajamas and take my meds. Kathy was lying back and moaning a little. "What about you, girlfriend? Are you going to be alright, or does Auntie Sharon need to put a diaper on you too? You don't look so good." "No. I'm a big girl," Kathy slurred. "Okay, but if you're wet in the morning, you'll be the one getting the spanking." That image had me stirring again. I helped Sharon undress Kathy and get her into the bed. Sharon kissed my cheek and told me not to worry. We were all friends and more than a little drunk. I knew that wasn't true of me but recognized it was her way of saying the episode was nothing more than a little harmless fun. We said goodnight, and I climbed in next to Kathy. I don't know if my dreams were more disturbing or exciting. I do know I wasn't anxious for them to end. I had visions of Kathy squirming across Sharon's lap when I realized those sounds weren't in my head. I turned to see Kathy gone and a good size wet spot in her place. I stumbled across the hall to find my dream a reality. Kathy was sprawled face down across Sharon's lap, pleading with Sharon to stop. Her obviously wet panties lay at her feet. "I told you, you should have worn a diaper last night," Sharon said as she landed a slap to Kathy's already glowing behind. "Remember those parties in college. You should know better than to drink that much." I shook my head, not believing what I was seeing. Sharon took notice of my presence. "Good morning, Davey. You see what happens to little girls who don't listen to Auntie?" "Oh no! Dave! Go away. Please." "Quiet," Sharon said with another slap. "And don't think it can't happen to little boys either. Well, young lady, have you learned your lesson yet?" "Yes. Yes!" "Alright, go get cleaned up, and bring those sheets down to be washed." Kathy scrambled off Sharon's lap and fairly ran from the room, avoiding eye contact with me. I could hear her sniffling in the bathroom. "You clean up too," Sharon instructed. "I'll start breakfast." That brought my attention to the diaper hanging low on my hips. I wasn't making as much progress as I had thought. I passed Kathy in the bathroom door. She still wouldn't look at me. She must have worked fast, because by the time I was clean and fresh, the bed was stripped, and she was nowhere in sight. I got dressed and found her in the kitchen helping with breakfast. She gave me a sheepish "good morning." I hugged her and gave her a kiss that was far more than perfunctory. That seemed to brighten her spirits. We all sat down to breakfast as if nothing had happened. I really wanted to know more about what I saw this morning but figured that wasn't the time to ask. It would keep and was probably none of my business anyway. We tidied up the dishes slowly, none of us wishing the visit to end. It was with no small amount of sadness that Kathy and I packed our things and said our goodbyes. We all promised to not wait so long till the next time, and for a change, I meant it. Despite the diapers and the embarrassment that went with them, I had a really good time. We drove in silence for quite some time. I was lost in my thoughts. There was a lot that happened that week and a lot to think about. Mostly though, I thought about what I had witnessed that morning. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Kathy? Remember what you said about elephants in the room?" "Yes," she sighed. "What happened this morning?" It took her a long time to answer. She tried to get me to drop it, but I kept bringing it back up. "You're not going to let this go, are you? Alright, fine." You know Sharon was my sorority sister, right? Well, she was actually my big sister, a sophomore assigned to show a pledge the ropes and generally look after her. One of the things she did for me was to introduce me around. She was really popular and got invited to a lot of parties, and because she did, I did. It was at one of those parties that I got introduced to alcohol. I never drank in high school, and I avoided it the first couple of parties I went to. But it had been a rough week, and I gave in when somebody stuck a cup in my hand. At first, I didn't realize there was alcohol in it. It just seemed like a really sweet punch with a funny aftertaste. I was well into my second one before I knew I was getting buzzed. It felt good. I wanted more. I kept drinking. About the time I felt like I might have had too much, Sharon found me. She told me it was time to go back to the house. I don't think I would have made it without her. I'm sure I threw up at least once on the way. I don't really remember getting back to the house and her dumping me on the bed. I do remember waking up the next morning. Sharon was shaking my leg, telling me to get up. I never knew sunlight could be so painful. It tasted like something died in my mouth, and somebody was beating my head with a hammer. I begged Sharon to let me die in peace. Instead, she pulled off my blankets. I was suddenly very cold. "Oh, geez. Get up. We need to get this stuff in the wash." "Huh?" "Get up. You peed the bed." "What?" "You peed the bed. Get up." "Oh my god. No!" I started bawling. "Oh, come on. It's not that big a deal. Half the girls here did the same thing the first time they got drunk." "You?" "Me? No." "Great," I said dejectedly. "Listen, get yourself cleaned up, take some aspirin, have some coffee and toast, and then we can talk about it. Okay?" "Okay." The shower made me feel a little better. I hadn't really learned to drink coffee yet, but the toast helped some. I found Sharon back in my room. She had stripped the bed for me and turned my fan toward the mattress. I had found the rubberized fabric of the mattress strange when I first moved in. Now, I understood why the sorority used them. It was somewhat comforting to know I wasn't the only one, but I still felt ashamed. Sharon hugged me and told me not to worry about it. I was the first, and I wouldn't be the last. It happens to everyone. "It didn't happen to you." "Okay, maybe not everyone, but I've had my share of nights worshipping the porcelain god." The image of Sharon with her head in the toilet did make me chuckle and a little less embarrassed. "I swear, I'm never going to drink again." "Don't make promises you can't keep. You just have to learn to pace yourself. You have to watch those fruity drinks. They go down really easy, and before you know it, you've already had too many. You don't have to stop drinking if you don't want to. Just be careful." "Alright." I took my wet things down to the laundry room. I couldn't avoid passing some of the other girls. Most gave me sympathetic smiles, a kind of been there done that look. I was careful at the next few parties I went to. I did drink some, but I went slow and never let it get beyond a mild buzz. That ended after midterms. I felt so relieved to have made it over that hurdle, I let myself go. Sharon took me aside and told me I should ease up. I told her I was fine and bumped into a wall. She told me to remember what happened the last time. I waved her off. It was a good thing the party was at the sorority house, or I never would have made it home. As it was, Sharon found me the next morning on the floor of the bathroom. There was vomit in my hair and around the toilet bowl, and I was lying in a puddle of pee. Sharon got me on my feet and into the shower. She didn't bother with my clothes. That first burst of water was a real shock, and I thought my head would explode, and really hope that it would. As the water warmed, I started to feel human again. I got undressed and washed the assorted fluids of me. Sharon was waiting for with a towel. "Thank you," I said, drying off. "I feel awful. Never again." "You said that before. You should feel awful. You were really pounding them last night. You deserve that hangover. But listen, drinking like that isn't good for you; in fact, it's dangerous. Even if the alcohol doesn't kill you, you can do all kinds of crazy things to get hurt or let someone hurt you. And it sure isn't any fun for me, having to clean up after you." "I know. I'm sorry." "Yeah, yeah, save it. You're sorry, because you head hurts. But if you did anything to hurt the house while you were like that, it would be my ass on the line too. I'm responsible for you." "I didn't know. I'm sorry." "Well, just think about it. And think about what would happen if you got in real trouble. What if you got called in front of the dean?" I paled. "Oh my god. My mom would have my butt. I would be able to sit down for a month." "Your mom still spanks you." "Well, she did last year, when I came home an hour after curfew. She might." "Maybe that's what you deserve." Her face was passive. I couldn't tell if she meant it. "You're kidding right?" "Get drunk like that again, and we'll see." I was really good for the rest of the semester. I didn't let myself get more than a little tipsy. I did my work. My grades were good. I felt really good about myself. I had long forgotten that conversation in the shower. The end of term was my undoing. The night after finals, everyone was celebrating, including me. We had a grand old time. I again woke up with a horrible hangout and a wet bed. I was balling up the sheets when Sharon came to check on me. "You did it again, didn't you? I told you to slow down, didn't I? But do you listen? No. 'I'm fine, Sharon.' 'Go away, Sharon.' 'Mind your own business, Sharon.' And look at you now, wet sheets and pissy pants. Remember what I said after midterms?" "What? What are you talking about?" "I told you what would happen if you got this drunk again." I tried to remember, but the pounding in my head made it hard. "I told you deserved spanking then, and you'd get one the next time. This is the next time." "You can't be serious." "Oh, I'm very serious." Sharon grabbed my wrist, sat down on the bed and hauled me across her lap. A softball player, she was really strong, far stronger than me. I didn't stand a chance. "Sharon, no!" I screamed, as she whisked my panties down. She didn't say a word as she lit up my ass. I screamed and squirmed and begged, but she didn't let up until I was limp and bawling. She stood me up and held me while I cried myself out. I told her I was sorry, and I really meant it. "It's okay. It's all over now. Just don't let it happen again, or you'll get more of the same." She tilted my head up and looked into my eyes. "I love you, Kathy. I want you to be safe." She kissed me, not a kiss, kiss, but more than a peck. Then she left me to take care of my laundry and pack for the holidays. It was a long, thoughtful, and uncomfortable bus ride home. "Wow," was all I could think of. After digesting it for a bit, I couldn't help asking, "Did it ever happen again?" "The idea turns you on, doesn't it? Pervert," she chuckled. "If you must know, it did, but I'm not going into gory details." "What about that kiss? Was there more than that?" Kathy blushed and remained silent. I waited. "Okay, yes, we… experimented, nothing serious. I decided I preferred men… mostly." I filed that away. "What about Sharon?" "She's more of an omnivore," Kathy said smiling. "But that's all you're getting. Have you thought about what we talked about? Your job?" "Some. I haven't made any decisions." "Okay." The rest of the trip was idle chitchat and discussion of things we should do before the weekend was out. Although I had two more wet nights, I returned to work on Monday feeling better… for about ten minutes. That's how long it took for my boss to start in on me. He actually had the gall to berate me for taking the week off, time I had earned. That was the last straw. I spent my lunch hour writing up a formal complaint and delivering it to Human Resources. I told them, if they didn't do something about him, they could have my notice, and if they didn't want that, I'd take the sick and vacation pay I had coming, and they could have their job. The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of meetings and discussions about me and my boss. Some of them got pretty heated. A review of my work showed that I was doing my job and doing it well. In the end, though, I was low man on the totem pole, and it was decided we would all be better off, if I applied my skills elsewhere. I was given a letter of recommendation and promised my back pay would be mailed at the next payroll date. For someone who, for all practical purposes, just got canned, I felt great when I cleaned out my desk. Kathy got concerned when she came home and saw the box with my possessions by the door. "What happened?" "I got fired," I said brightly. "Well, 'mutual separation' is what they wrote down in the file." I gave her a blow by blow description of what happened that day with full color commentary. I may have embellished my part a little. "Dave, I'm so proud of you. You did the right thing. I just wish that son of a bitch got what was coming to him." "Not my problem anymore. His file is flagged. He'll get his someday. In the meantime, and for the foreseeable future, you have yourself a little housemaid." "Don't give me ideas. You might look good in a French maid's uniform. I'm just glad you are out of there. Let's go. I'm taking you out to dinner." "Shouldn't we be watching our pennies? I am out of a job now." "We will, but tonight, we celebrate. This is a new beginning." And we did, a great meal, some nice wine, and it didn't end there. We practically ran up to the bedroom, clothes flying as we went. It was the most passionate we had been in quite a while. Afterward, Kathy got me diapered and curled up next to me. "So, what are you going to do with yourself, now that you have all this time on your hands?" "I don't know. I haven't really had a chance to think about it." "You should, you know. Idle hands and all that." "I'm sure I'll think of something." "I hope so. Little boys left on their own can get into all sorts of mischief." She was rubbing the front of my diaper. "I'll be fine." "I hope so. We wouldn't want Mommy to have to spank, would we?" I chuckled. "Would we?" The question wasn't rhetorical. "No." "No, what?" "No… Mommy?" "That's right," she said, rubbing me harder. "You need to be a good boy for Mommy, or Mommy will spank." I moaned, getting my second wind. "Maybe I should get a babysitter to keep you out of trouble. Maybe Auntie Sharon would be available. She could make sure you're a good boy and change you when you are wet. I know you like that. But Auntie Sharon spanks hard; so, you'd better be good." That was it. The diaper came off for round two. I was barely awake when Kathy re-diapered me and kissed me goodnight. The first week as a stay at home husband was great. I cooked, which I enjoyed but never had time for. I did some minor repairs that I had been putting off for a while. I cleaned the house and did the grocery shopping. I didn't enjoy those so much, but they had to be done and weren't as bad as I imagined. Most of all, Kathy was really happy with me and lavished me with praise. The second week was not as good. It was harder to find things to do. Kathy noticed and brought my attention to some things that needed taking care of. By the third week, I was really starting to get bored. Kathy and I were doing some gardening that weekend, when Mrs. Travers, our neighbor across the street, a sweet older lady, came over. I never talked to her much, but she and Kathy were friends. She took Kathy aside, but I couldn't help overhearing their conversation. "I noticed David's been home a lot lately. Is everything alright." "Oh, yes. He's taking some time off, maybe thinking of a second career." "I was just concerned, the economy being the way it is and everything." "No need to worry. We're fine." "Well, if there is anything you need…" "Same here. I'm sure Dave would be happy to help you out, if you need anything." "Well, there are a few odd jobs I need done. I'd pay him, of course." "Nonsense. What are neighbors for? Dave, come here a minute." "Oh, that's all right." "Dave, Travers needs your help. You'll do that, won't you?" "Sure." "What is it you need, Mavis?" "Well, I have a leaky faucet, and the gutters need tending." "No trouble at all Mrs. Travers," I said. "Is tomorrow okay?" "That would be fine, dear, if it's not too much trouble." "No trouble at all. Ten o'clock?" "That sounds fine. Thank you so much." "It's settled then," Kathy said sealing the deal. "He'll be over at ten sharp. You remember to be a good boy for Mrs. Travers, Dave." Mrs. Travers thanked us again but gave us awkward look as she went back to her house. "You didn't need to say that." "I was just having some fun. Can't you take a joke?" I kissed Kathy goodbye the next morning, and she reminded me to be a good boy and be at Mrs. Travers' house at ten. I was there right on time, toolbox and ladder in hand. I decided to start with the gutters, before the day got too hot. They were worse than I imagined, and it took till past noon to get them cleared out. Mrs. Travers insisted on feeding my lunch. The leaky faucet turned out to be a nightmare. It was an old fixture in the guest bath. I don't think anyone had worked on it since before I was born. There was a slow but steady drip that, judging by the calcium deposits on the fixture, had been going on for a long time. It was a chore just turning the shutoff valve and getting the handle off the valve, but when I tried to take out the stem to change the washer, the whole thing snapped. I informed Mrs. Travers and told her I would buy her new hardware. After a bit of an argument, I accepted that she would pay, I insisted on doing the installation. We went to the hardware store together, so she could pick out what she wanted. On the ride she told me all about her children and grandchildren, including the fact that the middle one was still wetting the bed. I set to work on updating the sink. I soon wished that I hadn't offered my assistance. Every nut was frozen. Nothing was easy to reach. The room was so tiny, I couldn't even lie down comfortably to work. As is so often the case with plumbing, I was swearing at it under my breath. Then the wrench slipped. I hit my hand hard against a pipe. I sat up to grab it and bashed my head on the sink. I was loudly cursing a blue streak when Mrs. Travers came to check on me. I was seeing stars and didn't resist when she helped me up. She led me to the kitchen and fixed an icepack for my head. She tended to my wounded hand, applying a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid. "Sorry, dear, that's all I have. I keep them for the grandkids." The room was still spinning when Kathy came over to check on me. I had no idea it had gotten so late. She gasped when she saw me. "It's just a bump on the head, dear, but I think you'd better take him home. He's had a rough day. I'll just call a plumber to finish." "No. I can do it myself." "David, be quiet. Mavis, I'm sorry he was so much trouble for you." "Oh, no trouble. I've tended to more than one skinned knee and bruised ego. But such language!" "David, apologize to Mrs. Travers, right now." "Sorry." "I'm sorry, Mavis. It won't happen again. But please, don't waste your money on a plumber. David will come back tomorrow and finish the job." She turned to me. "And he will watch his language, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." I meant that for Mrs. Travers, but I don't think either of them took it that way. "Good. I'm sorry. He is usually much better behaved. Please let him come back." "Alright," she said reluctantly. "If it means that much to him. But it's no trouble to get a plumber." "I won't hear of it. David will be back first thing in the morning to finish what he started, and he'll be on his best behavior. If he's not, please tell me. Now, I'd better get him home and put him to bed." I handed back the icepack and stood to leave. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Travers, and thank you for lunch." "It's alright, dear. Get some rest, and you'll feel better in the morning." Kathy took care of the goodbyes, and Mrs. Travers walked us to the door. I hoped she wasn't watching as Kathy gave me an earful crossing the street and landed a couple of hard swats on the seat of my pants. She took me straight upstairs. She got a diaper out and set it on the bed. She got her hairbrush and put it on top. She started undressing me and gave me a real dressing down. "I'm ashamed of you, talking that way in front of a sweet old lady. What were you thinking?" "I'm sorry. I hit my head, and it really hurt." "That's no excuse. You should know better. I have a good mind to wash your mouth out with soap." "You can't do that!" "Try me. If I ever hear something like that again, that's just what I'll do. As for right now, you're getting a good spanking to help you remember." "What? You can't." "You know very well I can. And unless you want me to use your belt on you, you'll get across my lap right now." I remembered the bite of the belt and chose to follow her instructions. She didn't start easy, and she accompanied her task with nonstop scolding. But that was nothing compared to when she started in with the brush. I wouldn't have been surprised if Mrs. Travers heard my cries from across the street. When I was bawling, Kathy told me to get up and marched me to the corner. "You stay there and think about what you did." I kept my face wedged in the corner, not wanting to incur any more of her wrath. I could hear her milling about the room, muttering. Then there was silence. "David, why is your underwear wet?" "What!" "You heard me. Why is your underwear wet?" "What? I didn't." She turned me around and held them where I could see. They were clearly damp. "Did you or did you not wet your pants?" "I don't know." "Of course, you know! Look at these!" "I guess, maybe a little. I don't remember. Maybe when I hit my head?" "That's no excuse. You can't go around wetting your pants during the day. It's bad enough you do that at night." "You said you didn't mind." "You know what I mean. But daytime accidents are a different story. Do you need to be in diapers all the time? Do I need to hire a babysitter? Maybe Mrs. Travers would like the job." "I'm sorry," I cried. "It won't happen again." "It had better not, or I'll have to rethink leaving you home alone. Lie down. You're going to bed right now." "I have to go to the bathroom." "Then go. At least, you remember some of your potty training." I lay in bed thinking about what Kathy said. She wouldn't make me wear diapers in the daytime. It was just that I hit my head. But she did it before. That didn't work out well. Seriously, she couldn't really get a babysitter. I didn't know what to think. Between conking myself and what followed, I was exhausted and didn't last long. I had strange and fitful dreams. I was soaked the next morning. Kathy was laying out clothes when I came back from the shower. "Put these on." She handed me something I didn't recognize. "What are these?" "Training pants." I turned the puffy object over in my hands. "I'm not wearing those." "Yes, you are, unless you'd prefer to wear a diaper. Of course, you'll have to bring a spare, incase Mrs. Travers needs to change you." "You wouldn't." "Would you like to discuss it with Mr. Hairbrush?" "No." "Then get dressed. You have work to do." The disposable underwear wasn't as thick or noisy as a diaper, but I still felt very conspicuous. I was feeling very contrite when Kathy rang Mrs. Travers' doorbell. "Good morning, Mavis. I brought David over to finish his work. He's going to be on his best behavior today and not give you any more trouble. If he does, I'd appreciate it if you told me. And if he needs it, you have my permission to spank him." "I'm sure that won't be necessary, dear," she said with a nervous laugh, no doubt hoping that was a joke. I knew it wasn't and blushed hotly. "Be a good boy, David. I'll see you tonight. And no swearing." It took me all day and another trip to the hardware store for new shutoff valves, but I finally got the sink done. I even managed to keep from swearing out loud. I did end up quietly crying at one point from holding it in. When it was all done, I was quite proud of myself, and Mrs. Travers was pleased. I was finishing the snack she made me, when Kathy came to take me home. "How was he today, Mavis?" "Good as gold, dear. Good as gold. I don't know what you said to him, but it did the trick. And such a good job he did. The new faucets are just beautiful." "I'm so glad to hear that. David, say thank you to Mrs. Travers." "Thank you," I mumbled, my mouth filled with cookie. "David, don't talk with your mouth full." "It's alright, dear. He deserves his reward. If I could borrow him again, I might have some other jobs for him to do?" "Anytime, Mavis. Anytime. I'm happy to have him here where somebody can keep an eye on him. But now I think it's time I get him home and fed, unless he's spoiled his appetite with your cookies." "I only had two," I complained. I saw Mrs. Travers hold up three fingers. "Well, we'll see if we can get some real food in him anyway. David, finish your milk; it's time to go." I downed the half full glass and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. I thanked Mrs. Travers for the cookies, and we headed home. Kathy told me she was proud of me for being a good boy. That made me feel good. But, she warned me, she expected no more bad behavior reports. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. Then she stuck her hands down the front of my pants. "Just checking. Seems a little damp down there. Drop 'em." "I didn't. I swear." "You'd better not swear. Now, let's see those training pants." She unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants to my feet. She pulled the disposable underwear—I preferred the euphemism—inside out and down where she could get a good look. "Hmm. Definitely a little damp, but maybe it's just sweat. You could do a better job wiping though." She pulled them back up and went to make dinner. I was left standing with my pants at my ankles, wondering what just happened. The evening was business as usual. At bedtime, she said her little boy deserved a reward for being so good all day. I got it too, and how. Kathy had another pair of training pants out the next day. "Why do I have to wear these? I stayed dry yesterday." "I think you know why." "No, why?" "Because Mommy says so." She wrapped her arms around me and gave my bottom a squeeze. "And little boys who do what Mommy says get rewarded." She gave me a smack. "And you know what happens to little boys who don't." I quickly put on the paper pants. "Good boy. Get dressed. Mommy has to go to work." I tidied up around the house and puttered in the garden a little. I couldn't help but think about the night before and what Kathy implied that morning. I went to the store and bought a roast, hoping a nice dinner would earn me another of her rewards. With dinner in the oven, I was at a loss for what to do. I sat down to watch some TV and was soon asleep, dreaming of "Mommy." "Oh, David!" I sat straight up. "Get up, quick." I stood up, and that's when I felt it. The training pants were leaking. "Go change. I'll take care of this." I could hear the disappointment and frustration in her voice. I came back to find her laying towel over the cushion. I told her I was sorry. "It wasn't too bad. I think I got it in time. Let's just eat. It smells wonderful." It was good, if I do say so myself. Kathy's praise for it was effusive. Then she turned serious. "David, what we going to do? I know you can't help your bedwetting, and that's alright. It really is, and we're dealing with it. But what are we going to do about this wetting in the daytime? It's obvious the training pants aren't up to the job." "I'm sorry. I wasn't even planning on going to sleep." "That's my point. If you're going to drop off like that, you could end up ruining the furniture." "I'll just stay awake. That's all." "You didn't today." "But now, I know I have to." "David, I don't want to deprive you of your sleep. If you need a nap, you should be able to take one." "I could put a diaper on myself," I suggested. "Yes, I do think we need to teach you to do that. But that's only going to help if you know you are going to sleep. What about days like today, when you just drop off?" "I don't know." "I think there's only solution that's really practical." I didn't like the sound of that. "You're just going to have to have a nap every day. That way, you won't just be nodding off unprotected." "But I don't need a nap every day." "I'm sorry, but I don't see any way around it. Unless you prefer I get a sitter who can make sure you stay awake or gets you diapered?" "No, I don't want that." "Then you'll just have to start taking naps. Do the dishes, and we'll see if we can teach you how to put on a diaper by yourself. And use the potty. We don't need any accidents in the middle of the lesson." That was it; the discussion was closed. I met her upstairs when the dishes were done. She had several diapers stacked up on the bed. "Why so many?" "It might take you a few tries to get it on right, and the tapes on these don't take repositioning well. If you mess up, we'll have to start from scratch. Here, let me help you get undressed." She kissed me while she unbuttoned my shirt. I thought we'd get to the instructions part later, and it showed. No such luck. "Okay. The first thing is to unfold the diaper and lay it out like this." "I could have guessed that." "Don't get smart; just listen. Now you lie down on top. You know how to do that already. Well, go on; I can't very well teach you this while you're standing up. Good. Now, lift your bottom and take the bottom two tapes. That's it. Now, move the diaper so the tapes are at the bend in your hips. No, a little higher. Let me feel. That's it. Good boy. Put your bottom down. Now, pull the front up and put the tapes on, snug as you can without stretching anything. Don't let the diaper move, or you'll have to start again. No, no, don't pull the front over so far; keep it centered. That's it. Good job. Now, tuck in all of the side flaps. That's right; we don't want those sticking out. Now, we do the top tapes, nice and snug. Very good! Stand up and let me check you. My goodness, you did so good, and on your first try! We'll just tuck these parts under to make sure nothing gets out. There, all ready for bed." I don't know what the all the fuss was about. It's not like it was brain surgery. Still, she managed to make me feel proud of myself. I reached to undo the tapes. "What are you doing?" she asked. "I'm taking it off." "Why? It's on there so nice." "It's early, and I'm not sleepy." "Well, there's no sense in wasting it. If you take it off, we'll just have to throw it away. Just leave it on. Mommy will make it worthwhile," she teased. "Really?" I said hopefully. "Uh huh," she said, unbuttoning her blouse. "Okay." She knew what I liked. She didn't often let me spend much time with her titties, but that night, she let me suck and play with them to my heart's content. Meanwhile, she pleasured herself. "Oh, baby!" she cried out after her third orgasm. "You make Mommy feel so good." She brought my face to hers and kissed me deeply. I was looking forward to the main event. "We'll have to let you nurse more often. That was fantastic. Are you ready to go night-night, or do you want to watch some television?" "Aren't we going to… you know?" "Baby, what did I say about wasting diapers? That's not coming off until morning, unless you need a change before. So, what's if going to be, bed or TV?" I would have wet myself if I could have, but the state she had me in prevented it. "TV, I guess," I said with a pout. "Aw, don't be that way. If you're a good boy, maybe Mommy will let you nurse some more before bed." That cheered me a little. We put on our nightclothes and went downstairs. Even though Kathy picked out a movie that would appeal more to me than to her, I was still a bit sullen. Kathy noticed. "What's the matter, sweetie? Do you still want Mommy's titty? Come here, baby." She had me lie down with my shoulders in her lap. She supported my head with her arm, braced by the arm of the sofa. She pushed her nightgown out of the way. "Be gentle. Mommy's still tender from before." It wasn't what I really wanted, but it was still nice. I had seen the movie several times before. I could see it in my head just from the dialogue. Kathy was idly rubbing my chest and belly. It was very relaxing. I felt a twinge in my bladder and figured, what the heck? It wasn't like she was going to let me go to the bathroom anyway. It took some effort, but I did manage to overcome my resistance and let the liquid flow. Kathy must have noticed a change in me. She stuck her had inside my pajama pants and squeezed my diaper. "Good boy," she murmured, and she continued to rub down there. I was actually getting turned on. I was starting to squirm, trying to get a little more pressure on the front to the diaper. My suckling became more passionate, and I reached up to play with the other breast. I felt a slap on my padded behind. "Mommy said 'gentle.' If you can't be nice, I'm going to put you to bed." That brought about a definite pout from me. "Don't be like that; you were told. Let's get you turned around and you can have the other side for a while, but be nice." "Okay," I sighed. "What was that?" Yes… Mommy." "That's better. You just nurse nicely while we finish the movie. Then Mommy will get you tucked in." I was more on my side this time, and Kathy rubbed my back and bottom. I think I must have drifted off, because Kathy was telling me it was time for bed. I got my bearings and sat up. I didn't think I had been that wet when we switched breasts. Kathy took my hand and led me upstairs. She took off my pajama pants and said she was right; I would need a change before bed. She laid me down and untaped the used but not soggy garment. I asked to use the bathroom. "Really? I wouldn't think you had any more in you right now." "For… the other." "Oh, yes, of course. Go make poopies, and then we'll get you set for night-night." She patted my naked bottom as I went. She didn't really have to put it that way, I thought. I wasn't gone long, but she had a new diaper laid out, as well as some powder. "What's that for?" I asked, pointing at the powder. "It will make you more comfortable, and it will make you smell nice." "It'll make me smell like a baby." "Exactly, is there anything that smells better than a freshly changed baby? Besides, at the moment, you are acting like one. You may as well smell the part." "You know I can't help it. It's the stress. And those pills make me so sleepy, I don't know…" "That's not what I meant. You've been cranky and moody all night. Lie down, so Mommy can get your dipee on." I lay down, but not without telling her I didn't appreciate the baby talk. "You liked it well enough when we were playing here a while ago." She took a wet wipe and ran it up my butt crack. "And if this is the kind of job you do wiping yourself, maybe you are one. Does Mommy have to help you when you make a stinky in the potty?" "Kathy!" I complained. "Okay, okay, I'm kidding… for now, but make sure you do a better job in the future. If I'm going to have to clean your poopy bottom anyway, I may as well keep you in diapers full time." I gasped. "Relax. I didn't say I was going to do it…. I just haven't ruled out the possibility," she said with a grin that was either playful or threatening. I couldn't tell which. She powdered me nicely, but I was disappointed that she stopped when I started to stir. She finished the rest of the process efficiently and soon had me tucked in. She got in beside me and had me face her. "Unless we run into some problems, here are the rules from now on. I want you to lie down every afternoon around one o'clock. A little bit earlier, a little bit later, doesn't matter, as long as it's not past two. Whatever you might be planning that would take longer than that can wait until after you rest. I want you in a diaper when you lie down. You showed me you can do it yourself, and I feel better knowing you are protected. If you wet while you are napping, go ahead and put your pull-ups back on. If you don't, I want you to keep the diaper on until you use it; that way it's not wasted, and I know you aren't cheating. If you don't sleep at naptime, I want you in a diaper until I get home. I can't have you falling asleep without one on. If you have to change once or twice before I get back, that's okay, but no wasting. If I find you aren't taking your naps or you are running around without a diaper when you should have one on, Mommy will spank, understand?" I nodded, wide eyed. For some reason, I was getting aroused. "Say, 'yes, Mommy.'" "Yes, Mommy." "Good boy. And remember, good boys who do what Mommy says get rewards." She kissed me. "Night-night, baby." "Night-night, Mommy," I yawned. I started to plan out my day for tomorrow, but I was off to dreamland. I had finished mowing the lawn, and working on pulling some weeds, when I heard a car pull into the driveway. I wasn't pulling weeds anymore. I was pushing trucks around a sandbox. "Mommy!" I yelled. "There's my little man," Kathy beamed. But her face turned cold. "Davey, just look at you." I looked down. My hands were filthy, and there was sand stuck to the wet front of my little shorts. I looked up surprised. "David, did you take your nap today?" "I wasn't sleepy." "Where's your diaper?" "I forgot," I said sheepishly. "You forgot? What was the last thing I said to you before I left?" "Um…" "I said I wanted you to go down for a nap at one o'clock and to make sure you put your diaper on." "I didn't know it was so late." "Is that so? Did you not know you need to go potty either? "I…" "Davey, I'm very disappointed in you. Get in the house this instant." I ran in the house and was almost through the kitchen. "Stop right there, mister. Take off those filthy clothes. You're not going track sand all through the house." I didn't want to. Getting undressed in the kitchen meant I would have to walk right past the picture window to get upstairs. "But…" "No buts," she said, striding over and pulling my shirt right over my head. She made quick work of my sandals and shorts and left me standing in a drooping pull-up. She shook her head and started pulling it down. She gasped when she saw a small, firm poop inside. She got it off me and balled it up "David, you naughty, naughty boy. Get upstairs right now. You need a bath." She turned me around and planted a stinging slap on my damp bottom. I ran up the stairs, no longer caring if I was seen. Kathy was not far behind. "Sit on the potty and try to go poopy." She started the bath and added some sweet-smelling bubbles. "Honestly, I thought you were a big boy. I thought I could trust you. Did you go?" I shook my head. I was getting teary, because she was mad at me. "Get in the tub. This discussion isn't over, but you're just too filthy to deal with at the moment." I jumped in the tub, hoping compliance would earn me a few points. She scrubbed me from head to toe. "I have no idea how one little boy can get so dirty? How did you get sand in there?" I didn't know either, and I felt bad I was making work for her. She was hardly gentle, and I was glad when she finished. She dried me just as roughly, then ordered me into the bedroom. "What have you got to say for yourself?" she demanded. "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry is not an excuse. Did you deliberately disobey me, or are you too much of a baby to leave on your own? I think I'm going to have to have Mrs. Travers come over and watch you during the day." "I don't need a babysitter," I whined. "I'm a big boy." "Then you are a naughty, disobedient boy, and I know just how to deal with that," she said, snatching up her hairbrush and hauling down across her lap. "I told you what would happen, if you didn't listen to Mommy. You have no one to blame but yourself." "Mommy, no!" My bottom was quickly ablaze. I was screaming out apologies and promising to be good. I was bawling my eyes out and shaking. No, I wasn't shaking. I was being shaken. "David, David, Wake up." I shouted something incoherent. I looked around. It was dark. I saw Kathy. I threw my arms around her. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry! I won't wet my pants again. I'll take my nap. I'll wear my diapers. Don't spank me. I'm sorry!" I sobbed and sobbed. Mommy… Kathy held and shushed me. "There, there, baby, it's all over now. It was just a bad dream. Mommy loves you. You're Mommy's good boy; yes, you are. Let's get you changed, so we can go back to sleep." I was soaked, but Kathy took care of it like it was nothing. She made such short work of it; I didn't even become fully conscious. I just followed her instructions, lifting up when she asked, and I was soon dry and nuzzling her. "No, baby. Mommy's sore. Try to go back to sleep. Mommy will see about buying you a baba and a binky tomorrow." That thought didn't register enough to consciously think about it, but it did sink in enough that I dreamt of nursing from a giant bottle. My thumb was wrinkled when I woke up. The night must have been harder on me than I realized. I had no trouble putting on a diaper and taking a nap the next day or the day after. Kathy made me show her the used diapers when she saw I was wearing pull-ups. She praised me for being a good boy. The day after that, try as I might, I just couldn't fall asleep. I went ahead and wet the diaper, so I could show Kathy I hadn't wasted it, but then I put on a pull-up and went about the rest of my afternoon. We sat down to watch TV after dinner. I was nodding off before the first commercial. "David?" "Hmm?" I asked groggily. "David, did you have a nap today?" "Mm-mm," I acknowledged. "Is that a no?" I nodded. "Then where's your diaper?" "Used it." "I know that, but why don't you have one on now?" "Don' need one." "That's not the rule, and you know it. Get up. You're going to bed right now." "Wanna stay up with you." "Nothing doing. You get upstairs right now, unless you want to go to bed with a sore bottom." That woke me up. "But it's early," I whined. "David, I'm warning you for the last time." "Okay, I'm going," I huffed and all but stomped out of the room. "And use the potty. I'll be up in a minute to put your diaper on." I did as I was told; I did have to go. Kathy came in and laid out a diaper while I was getting undressed. Before I knew it, she had me squared away and tucked in. Seemingly out of nowhere, she stuck bottle in my mouth. "Leave that there. I bought it as a joke, but maybe it's appropriate after all. You know the rules, David. It was very naughty of you to break them. I feel like you lied to me. I'm very disappointed in you." That stirred up memories of my nightmare. "We will talk about this in the morning. In the meantime, drink your baba and go to sleep. I expect it to be empty when I come to bed. I'm very upset with you right now." I was upset too, as much with myself as being made to drink from a baby's bottle. Still, I was tired and didn't last long. I woke up briefly to find the bottle being replaced in my mouth and held there. The next thing I remember was Kathy's waking me to get changed and "have a talk." I came back from the bathroom to time a diaper waiting on the bed. Kathy was sitting next to it, hairbrush in hand. I immediately protested. "I get it. I'm sorry. If I don't take a nap, I'll wear a diaper till you say so. You don't have to do this." "You'll get it alright. And I do have to do this, because it seems the only time you listen to me is when you're face down over my lap. Get over here now." I reluctantly went and climbed into position. She didn't waste any time in starting to warm my seat. "You deliberately disobeyed me, and then you pretended like you took a nap. You thought you were real smart, didn't you? Thought you could fool me into thinking you took a nap, didn't you? What do you think would have happened if you fell asleep before I got home? I'll tell you what would have happened; you would have wet your pants and made a royal mess, that's what. You are a naughty, naughty, little boy. Lying to Mommy, Mommy is so angry with you. Are you going to make me have to hire a sitter for you? Is that what I have to do, because Mommy's little boy can't be trusted?" "No! Please, don't! I'll be good. I promise!" She stopped spanking. "Alright, fine, I'll give you one more chance. Get up, and let's get your diaper on. You are in diapers all day, and I do mean all day. I'm going to call you from time to time, and you had better be wearing your diaper, because you are going to send me a picture to prove it, and if you aren't wearing one, or it takes longer than I think it should for you to send it, you won't sit down for a week, and I will find you that sitter. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes." "Excuse me?" "Yes, Mommy. Yes." "Good. Now, get your nose in that corner." She left for a few minutes. "I set up your computer with the webcam on, and I set an alarm. Don't you dare move until the alarm goes off. I may not be able to watch you all the time, but you won't know when I do. So, you'd better be on your best behavior and do exactly as Mommy says, understood?" "Yes, Mommy," I said dejectedly. "I do love you, baby, but you have to be a good boy and do what Mommy says, okay?" "Okay." "That's my good boy." She kissed and hugged me. "Okay, nose back in the corner, and don't move till the alarm goes off. Remember; Mommy's watching." She turned me around and patted my behind. I was left with my thoughts. I hoped not for too long. That hope didn't last. With no frame of reference but my own world, which was defined by the two walls I got to stare at, the seconds ticked slowly. I got to dwell on why I was standing there. Because Mommy, I mean Kathy, was mean. No, she wasn't; I did this to myself. Why couldn't I have handled things better? I could have stood up to my boss. I could have gone to HR sooner. I could have quit. Why didn't I? Because I was afraid. What good would that have done? I'd have just been out of a job sooner. Why did I have to start that again? And why wasn't it stopping. I got rid of the stress. I quit. But I still couldn't keep dry. It's no wonder Kathy treated me like a baby. Why did she do that? Why wouldn't she, when I was in diapers every night. Some Man. But it was kind of nice. It felt good to be snuggled. It felt really good to be suckled. She was actually being really nice… when she wasn't spanking me. Why did she have to do that? And why didn't I stop her? What was I supposed to do, hit her back? I couldn't do that. And it's not like I didn't bring them on myself. I didn't listen. Why should I have to listen? I'm a grown man. But I was acting like a little boy. A little boy who can't keep his pants dry. And so, it went on until the alarm chimed. Less than a minute later, Kathy called. "You stayed in the corner the whole time. Good boy. I knew you could listen when you wanted to. The webcam is still on. Show me your diaper." I positioned myself and the camera so she could look. "Still dry. Good. I have to get back to work now. I'll call and check on you a little later. Be a good boy for Mommy, and get your chores done. I'll talk to you before naptime. I love you, sweetie. Bye-bye." She hung up before could get a word in. There was nothing for it but to get on with my day. I wasn't very hungry, but coffee was welcome. I puttered around, taking care of what I had to, making the bed, doing the laundry and dishes. I wet myself a little; there didn't seem any point in holding it. Kathy called around eleven. "Hi, baby. How's your day going? Are you being a good boy?" "Yes, Mommy. I'm almost done with my chores." "That's my good baby. Speaking of which. Send me a picture of your diaper." I snapped a pic and sent it to her. "Just a little wet. You'll be fine till nap time. Mommy needs to get back to work. I want you to find some more things to do around the house. You're still on punishment; so, no TV or computer till Mommy says so. But make sure the webcam is facing the bed. I may want to check in on you during your nap. Be a good boy. I love you, baby. I'll talk to you later." Now facing a day of boredom, I looked for things to do. I vacuumed the carpets and washed the floors. That kept me busy until lunchtime. I had a sandwich and a soda. By that time, I was looking forward to a change. When the phone rang, I thought it was Kathy. "Hi, Mom…" "David, it's Mrs. Travers across the street. Could you come help me, please?" "I'd be happy to Mrs. Travers, but right now isn't a very good time. May later this afternoon?" It was getting close to one o'clock, and Kathy was going to want me in bed. "I'm sorry, David. It really can't wait. The toilet is backing up, and I can't stop it. Please help." She sounded desperate. I was torn over what to do. "David, are you there?" "Yes," I said stupidly, coming out of my head. "Yes, Mrs. Travers. Let me just grab some tools, and I'll be right over." "Thank you, David. You're a lifesaver." The first order of business was to call Kathy. I needed to tell her what was going on. Her cell went straight to voicemail. I didn't want to just leave a message; so, I called her office. "Ms. Henderson's office. May I help you?" "Hi, Mandy. It's David." "Oh, hi, David. I hear you're taking some time off. That must be so great. I wish I could do that." "Mandy," I broke in. "I need to speak to Kathy. Could you put me through please?" "I'm sorry I can't. She's in a meeting, and she said no interruptions, unless it's life and death. It's not, is it?" "No… um… just have her call me, will you?" "Sure thing. Is everything alright?" "Um… fine. You have her call. Thanks." I put on my baggiest sweats and hoped they'd hide what was under them. I threw my snake, a plunger, some wrenches, and a couple of kinds of pliers in a duffle and headed across the street to Mrs. Travers. "David, hurry, hurry. It's getting worse!" I followed the sound of running water until I saw it. How did she let it get this far? The bathroom was flooded, and it was flowing out into the hallway. I stuck my phone in a pocket of the duffel and set the bag down in a spot near the door that was still dry. "Get me all the towels you can. Clean, dirty, doesn't matter. Quick!" She brought me a couple of kitchen towels. "No, bath towels. The bigger the better. And as many as you can carry." This time, she understood. I tossed them around the room, and they were saturated as soon as they hit the floor. "Have you got more?" She nodded. "Get them. All of them." I squatted beside the toilet and tried to turn the shutoff valve. Nothing. I grabbed a pair of channel locks from my bag and tried to muscle the knob again. Before the valve finally budged, I was afraid the strain would make me poop my pants. I did pee them a little. Thank heaven that didn't happen. I was making some headway, when my phone rang. I had to get the water off; so, I ignored it. Was it really necessary to put so many threads on these stupid valves? The phone rang again. Again, I ignored it. I could hear the flow slowing. I was getting close. Like the sink, this valve was long unused and heavily corroded. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to turn that last little bit without breaking it off. The phone was ringing again. "Mrs. Travers! Could you answer my phone for me? I kind of have my hands full." I could see her looking at it like it was a snake in her hand. "Just slide your finger up the screen. That's it. And hit the button that says 'Answer.'" "David, where the hell are you," I could hear Kathy's voice all the way across the room. "You're not in your bed, and I've been calling and calling. What is going…" "Kathy, dear." Mrs. Travers found her voice and near shouted. "It's Mavis. David can't talk right now…. No, he's fine. It's my toilet. It was flooding the house. David was a godsend, coming over to fix it…. Is he what? Well, yes, he is. There was quite a lot of water on the floor…. Oh…. Oh my…" I didn't hear any more. Mrs. Travers had wandered down the hall. I still needed to get the water shut down. The valve finally did close, and I shouted for Mrs. Travers to let her know. Nothing. I threw the soggy towels into the bathtub and used the last couple of dry ones to make a relatively dry spot to work. I took the lid off the tank to see why it was running like that. The arm on the old ball float had corroded right off. Always when there's a clog, I thought to myself. I got my snake to start working on the clog. It didn't go very far. It hit an obstruction almost immediately. Whatever it was, it was hard. I pulled the snake out, and a fair amount of toilet paper came with it. I went back it and hit the object again. I tried to dislodge it with the snake, but it wouldn't move forward, and I couldn't get the spring to snag it. There was nothing for it but to do it manually. I pushed up my sleeve, knelt down, and plunged my hand into the cold water. I tried really hard not to think about where my hand was or what it might find. I pulled out more toilet paper and gagged a little. In again, I felt the object. There was more paper around it, but I able to get my fingers around it. It was wedge in pretty tight, but it broke free, and the water in the bowl quickly went down. I swished off the paper and found a toy car. "I found the problem," I shouted. No reply. Where did she go? "Mrs. Travers?" I yelled. "I'm going to have to go to the hardware store. You need a new float valve." "You got it fixed. Thank heaven." I must have jumped a foot. I wasn't expecting her to be right there. "Almost," I said, trying to get my heart back where it belonged. "I'm going to need some parts." "Dear, oh dear, look at you. You're soaked to the skin. Come with me. I have some dry things you can change into." "That's okay. I can just run home." "Nonsense. You'll catch your death. Come." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bedroom. I stopped short, when I got to the door. There, on the bed were some my clothes, and sitting right on top was a diaper. I almost didn't hear Mrs. Travers speaking. "Kathy told me about your little problem, dear. I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry about taking you away from your nap. How about we get you into something dry? Then you can have a snack and a little lie down before you go to the store." Before I knew it, Mrs. Travers pulled my sweats to my feet. "Mrs. Travers!" I shouted. "My, you are soaked to the skin, aren't you? Don't worry. We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy." She was guiding me toward the bed and pushing me down. "What's that you have in your hand? Oh, Matthew, that boy! You can keep that, if you want, Davey. Matthew won't be getting it back. But let's give it a wash first. We know where it's been." She gingerly took the car and set it aside. Then she reached for the tapes on my diaper. "Mrs. Travers, no! I mean, I can do this myself." "No need to fret, dear. Mr. Travers had the same problem toward the end. I'm an old hand at this." "But…" "It's the least I can do, dear. And I told Kathy I'd take good care of you this afternoon. Just lie still, and we'll have you nice and dry in no time." I tried to squirm and push her hands away. She slapped mine. "We'll have none of that nonsense. Kathy gave me permission to spank you the last time you were here. Don't make me have to do it." I looked at her wide-eyed. She gave me a look that said not to tempt her. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was someplace, anyplace else. That didn't work very well, since I had to lift while she got everything adjusted. She did make short work of it after that, and she was pulling my shoes, socks and sweats off my feet. I sat there dumbfounded, as she changed my shirt, put socks on my feet and had me step into my pants. "There," she said, satisfied, "all dry. Come on down to the kitchen. You can have some cookies and a nice glass of milk." She thanked me profusely while I ate. She made very good cookies. I reached for another. "Uh-uh," he said, as she took away the plates. "What would Kathy say, if I spoiled your appetite? Finish your milk, and we'll put you down for a nice little nap." "But I need to go to the hardware…" She cut me off, wiping my face with a damp cloth. "Plenty of time for that after your nap. I promised Kathy, and there won't be any more discussion about it. Come along." She took my hand and led me to a different bedroom, one she obviously kept for the grandkids. There was a wide assortment of toys and cartoon bedding. Whether very young, a bit older, girl or boy, whoever stayed in this room would feel comfortable and loved. Mrs. Travers pulled back the covers on the twin bed and told me to get in. I reluctantly did as she asked and immediately noticed the crackle of a waterproof cover. She tucked me in and, out of habit, pulled up a side rail. She tittered realizing what she had done. "Oh, well, better safe than sorry." She kissed my forehead. "You have a nice sleep, and when you get up, maybe Nana Mavis will let you have that cookie. Sleep tight, Davey." With that she was gone. What had I gotten myself into? I wanted to talk to Kathy, but I didn't know where my phone was, and she probably arranged this anyway. How was I going to look Mrs. Travers in the face after today? And what might she tell the other neighbors? I needed to get out of this predicament. I needed to get over this stupid wetting problem and find a new job. At least I'd be away from home more. I yawned. The morning was catching up with me. A little nap wouldn't hurt, and I was kind of stuck for now anyway. "Wakey, wakey," Mrs. Travers sang cheerily. "Time to get up." "Huh?" I tried to get my bearings. Why was I in a child's room? Oh yeah. "Did you have a nice nap?" she asked, letting down the rail. She shocked me by sticking her fingers in the waistband of my diaper. "Not too wet. You should be fine till your Mommy gets home." "I need to get to the store." I needed to get out of there. "That will have to wait. I talked to Kathy, and she should be here soon. You can finish up tomorrow. How about that cookie? It will be our little secret." It turned out not to be a secret. I was biting into a second one, when Kathy came in. For some reason, I felt guilty. "How was he for you today, Mavis? I know how he can be when there's plumbing involved." "A perfect angel, Kathy. Weren't you, Davey? He's just having a little snack as a reward for coming to my rescue." "I'm glad to hear that. I just hope he hasn't spoiled his dinner. A growing boy can't live on milk and cookies." "I expect he'll be fine. I'm sure he worked up quite an appetite." "Well, we'd best be off. I'll send him over in the morning to finish up. You don't mind watching him, do you?" "Not at all dear. He's my good little helper." "Thank you, Mavis. Come on, Dave. Let's go make some supper." "Oh, Davey, don't forget your car. It's all clean now. He can have it, can't he, Kathy?" "Of course. What do you say, David?" "Thank you, Mrs. Travers." I didn't need to be reminded, for gosh sake. "You're welcome, Davey. Maybe tomorrow, we can make some cookies together?" She winked. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. We'll talk to you tomorrow." Kathy took me by the hand and led me home. "That was very nice of you, helping Mrs. Travers like that. I was so worried, when I couldn't find you." "I did call." "I know. I should have checked my messages first. That's my fault. Do you like your toy?" "What? Oh, yeah, I guess," I said, setting it down. "It was very nice of Mrs. Travers to give it to you." "I know. But can you stop talking to me like I'm a child?" "I'm just saying it was nice." "But you told me to say thank you, and you're talking about my working over there like your dropping me off at daycare." "Still a bit cranky after your nap." "I'm not cranky! And I don't need naps. I'm not a baby, damn it." "Don't take that tone with me. And no more potty mouth, unless you want it washed out. How's your diaper holding out, by the way?" "It's fine. Why did you make me wear it all day anyway? Now Mrs. Travers knows, and she'll probably tell everybody. It's not like I don't have enough problems. I don't have a job anymore, and I can't stop wetting the bed, and now everybody's gonna think I'm a big baby, just like you and Mrs. Travers do. It's not fair!" Tears were running down my face. "Why does it have to be like this?" Kathy took me in her arms, and I sobbed. It was all too much. I felt a warm wetness gather around my bottom, and I cried all the harder. "Shh. Shh. I know, baby. I know. It's all overwhelming, isn't it? It's going to be okay. I promise. I had a long talk with Mrs. Travers this afternoon. I explained the whole thing, and she understands. She just wants to help, and she won't tell a soul; I promise. I don't want you to worry about a thing. I know you're not a baby. But you've been through a lot lately, and I want to take care of you. I want you to let all the hurt go. I think that bully of a boss did more damage than you realize. And trying to put up a brave front and hide what it was doing only made it worse. I think you need to let go of everything and let me handle things for a while. Can you be a big, brave boy and trust Mommy to look after you until you're better?" I nodded. "That's my little man. You just let Mommy be in charge for a while, and she'll make it all better. You just be Mommy's little helper, and don't worry about the mean people anymore. You can help Mrs. Travers too. She needs lots of help now that her husband is gone. She doesn't mind that you are having potty problems any more than Mommy does. We know that even big boys have trouble with the potty sometimes. You just do what we ask, and we'll take care of the rest. Can you do that for me, baby? Will you do that for Mommy?" "I guess." I was emotionally drained. I couldn't fight it anymore. "Promise me, baby. Promise me you'll listen to Mommy and Mrs. Travers and let us take care of you." "I promise." "I promise, what?" "I'll listen." "Listen to who, baby?" "Mommy and Nana Mavis." I sat up at hearing that name come out of my mouth. Kathy looked shocked, but her surprise quickly turned into a smile. "That's right, baby. Mommy and Nana will take good care of you. Are you hungry?" I was caught off guard by the question, but I was, in fact. I nodded. Kathy squeezed the front of my diaper. "Then let's get you fed, but first somebody needs a change." Kathy took me upstairs, then made a detour into the bathroom. When she was down to the diaper, she asked if I had made poopies that day. I hadn't. "Sit on the potty, and try to make a boom-boom for Mommy. I'll be right back." I was getting ready to wipe when she came back… naked. She turned on the shower. She took the paper from my hand and told me to stand up. "Good job! Turn around." She bent me over and wiped me. "Okay, get in the shower. You've been playing with toilet water all day and not the good kind. Mommy needs to clean you up." It was nice showering together. It had been a long time since we did that. All that soaping and scrubbing led to other things, and we had to start over. We basked in the afterglow under the water. "I'm confused. One minute, you're wiping me like I'm three years old, the next you're…" I grinned and pulled her closer. "You may need a mommy right now, but you are still my husband, and don't you forget it. I haven't. But now it's time to get the baby dressed and fed. Get out, and Mommy will dry you." I had the best night's sleep in many weeks, wet but restful. Kathy woke me lovingly, and she was laying out my clothes when I came back from the shower. "No diaper?" "Of course not, sweetie. Your punishment is over. It's back to the regular rules. You'll wear your training pants until naptime, unless you'd rather a diaper. It's okay if you do." "No, training pants are good. But what about Mrs. Travers? What if she notices a difference? How am I going to explain why I was wearing a diaper yesterday but not today?" "Don't worry, baby? Mommy already talked to Nana, and she knows all about it. That's the other reason you can go back to wearing training pants. Nana will be there to make sure you don't fall asleep without your diaper on." "Does that mean I have to go back to wearing diapers when I get finished with her bathroom?" "I expect you'll be busy with her all day. We'll just see how it goes. Okay, sweetie?" "Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "Don't pout, honey. You're going to have lots of fun with Nana. I promise." I went to my workshop and got a tubing cutter. I was going to replace that old shutoff valve as well as the float. Kathy was waiting by the door with an overnight bag. "What's that?" I asked. "Just some extra supplies, you never know." We went out, and I started to turn toward the car. "No, baby, this way. Nana will take you to the store." Mrs. Travers was waiting for us. The door opened as we approached. "Why, hello, Davey," she said, a little too brightly. "All ready to get to work?" "Yes, ma'am." "Oh, don't be so glum. You did the hard part yesterday, didn't you? You're such a good helper. You'll have it all fixed in no time, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." "Now, now. No need to be so formal. We're good friends now, aren't we? What did we agree my name was?" I hadn't agreed to anything, but I knew what was expected. "Nana Mavis." "That's right!" she beamed. "And Nana's going to take very good care of you. And if you're a very good boy, Nana has a big surprise for you later. Won't that be fun?" I looked at Kathy, hoping she would intervene on my behalf. Instead she gave me a small nod and a look that said go along with it. "Yes, Nana." "That's my good boy. Come in. come in. Have you had breakfast yet? Nana can't have you working on an empty stomach." "I'm sorry, Mavis. I didn't have time to feed him this morning. I really am running late." "That's alright, dear. He can eat with Nana. I'm just sorry you can't join us." "Me too, but I do have to run. Here's his bag. It should have anything you might need. David, you be a good boy for Nana today, and I'll see you after work. Thank you again, Mavis." Kathy kissed both me and Nana… Mrs. Travers on the cheek and took her leave. "Well, Davey, we've got a big day ahead of us. I think that calls for pancakes. How about you?" I nodded enthusiastically. "Then have a seat. They'll be coming right up. But first, maybe you should go potty." I blushed and mumbled, "I don't have to right now." "I think you should try anyway. For Nana?" "Alright." I headed off to the sill working guest bath. "That's a good boy. Don't forget to flush and wash your hands." I don't know what Kathy told her, but Mrs. Travers was taking to her role as Nana more enthusiastically than I was comfortable with. I suppose it wasn't hurting anyone, maybe my pride a little bit. On the other hand, she was being really nice. It's not every day I get someone to make pancakes for me, and bacon from the smell of it. I made an honest effort of it, but I didn't have to go. I flushed and washed anyway. "Just in time. I have your plate all ready for you." I half expected it to be already cut up. Instead, she had poured one large and two small circles of batter, making the shape of a famous mouse. I had to smile at that. She set the plate down in front of me, tucked a napkin into my shirt, and kissed me on the forehead. "Be careful with the syrup. Use both hands." That annoyed me a little, but I bit my tongue and used both hands. I don't know if using only one would have made any difference, but the syrup did pour faster than expected, and my pancake was fairly swimming in it. "Oh, somebody has a sweet tooth," she said, setting a large glass of milk in front of me. "Eat up, there's plenty more where that came from." "May I have some coffee, Nana?" "Coffee? Are you sure? Oh, heavens, of course. But drink your milk too. It's good for you." She made excellent pancakes, light, crispy around the edges. I had seconds and bacon and thirds. I had to soak up all that syrup after all. I was stuffed. "Such a good eater," she said, astonished. "Aren't you going to have some?" "Oh, no, dear," I had something earlier. Is your tummy full? Would you like something else?" "No, thank you. I couldn't eat another bite. It was delicious." "You're welcome, sweetheart. It's nice to cook for someone again. I suppose you'll be wanting to go to the hardware store?" "After that meal, not so much. But I do need to get some things to finish fixing the toilet." "I'll go freshen up and then we can go. Do you need to use the potty?" "No, Nana," I sighed. "I'm fine." "Okay," she said uncertainly and went about her business. I poured myself another half cup of coffee. I was wondering what was taking so long, when she came back with her hair a little spruced up and a touch of light make up. "You're sure you don't want to use the potty before we go?" "Yes, Nana," I said, rolling my eyes. "Watch your tone, young man. Alright let's go." Before long, we were back, and I set right to work. I had the old shutoff replaced and the main water turned back on. The corroded float mostly out, when I wished I had used the toilet before starting. I was close to finished; so, I forged on. All parts attached and feeling tight, I opened the shutoff and promptly got sprayed in the face. I turned off the water and had another go at the loose fitting. That did it, tight as a drum. I closed the door and christened the job. I noticed that the training pants were more than a little damp. I flushed and watched all the parts work as they should. I put away my tools and wiped everything down. Proud of myself, I opened the door and shouted, "Nana! I'm done!" "Nice job, Davey! I'm so proud of you. Thank you so much. It's beautiful! Come along. I have a nice lunch and a big piece of cake with your name on it." Lunch was grilled cheese and tomato soup. Again, she stuck the napkin in my shirt. She wasn't kidding about the cake. It was a two-layer yellow cake with gobs of homemade chocolate buttercream and enormous. It was all I could do to finish it. I didn't object the big glass of milk she gave me, even though I would have preferred coffee, and I didn't really need to use two hands, as she insisted. I thanked her with all my heart and said I would be on my way. "Oh, no, David. I have something I want you to do after your nap. Come up stairs and lie down. Nana has a big surprise for you when you get up." "I really should be…" "Now, David, you've been so good all day. Don't start giving Nana trouble now. I told your Mommy I would put you down after lunch, and that's what we're going to do." She took my hand and led me back to the grandkids' room. I think she would have dragged me, if I had put up any resistance. She put the bag Kathy had brought on the bed and pulled out pajamas and a diaper. She did a double take and took something else out of the bag. She turned around and wagged Kathy's hairbrush at me. "Don't make me use this," she warned and put it back. "Let's get you changed, and you'll have a nice nap and be all rested for your surprise." She came over and started unbuttoning my shirt. I backed away. She asked if she needed to get the hairbrush. I let her undress me. If I wasn't nervous before, I certainly was when she had me down to the pull-up. She started to take it down and stopped halfway. "Oh, David, when did that happen? I told you, you should have used the potty before we went to the store. You have to tell Nana when you have to go. Oh, well, I guess that's why we have you in trainers. At least your pants stayed dry. But let's get your diaper and jammies on, so you can go beddy-bye." I was soon tucked in and sulking. "Don't be that way, sweetheart. Nana's not mad. Accidents happen. But I want you to promise me, you'll tell Nana the next time, okay?" "Okay," I sighed. "That's Nana's good boy." She pulled the blankets up under my chin and kissed me on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Honeybunch. You have a good rest, and then Nana has something really special for you. Ni-night." She shut the door and left me to wonder what it might be. Tucked in and toasty, with a full tummy, I didn't last long. Nana jostled me awake. I knew from the shadows; I had been out for a while. "Wake up, sleepyhead. Time to get up. If you sleep any longer, your Mommy will never get you down at bedtime. Do you want to see what Nana has for you?" I nodded, curious. "Good. Let's just have a check then. Oo, I think Nana shouldn't give you so much milk before naptime. No worries, that's what it's there for." She got the bag and pulled out a diaper and a pair of training pants. She seemed to weigh her options for a moment ad put the diaper back. "We'll try these again, but you have to tell Nana when you need to use the potty, understand?" "Yes, Nana," I said, blushing. "Good boy." She got me changed and was pulling me the hand again. She had the biggest grin on her face. She took me down to the basement. I wondered what she wanted to show me. I had been down there earlier to turn off the main water line and hadn't noticed anything unusual. She turned me off to the left and opened a door. Before me lay the most elaborate train set I had ever seen outside and exhibition like the one we went to at Sharon's house. It wasn't nearly as big, of course, but still. It had everything, tracks winding all over the place, tunnels, trestles, crossing gates, people and animals. I stood there with my mouth hanging open. "Do you like it?" "Do I like it? It's beautiful!" "It was Harold's. He made it for our boys, but he could never get them interested in it. They just wanted to crash the trains. When they discovered girls, even Harold didn't play with it anymore. He never had the heart to get rid of it. I guess he always kept hope. It's been sitting down here all these years." "That's terrible. Something like this should be loved." "It was. It was, but not for a long time. Would you like to play with it?" "Would I? Do you mean it? That would be awesome! Are you sure it's okay? I mean…" "Yes, sweetheart, I mean it. It would do my heart good to know it wasn't down here just gathering dust. I think it would make Harold very happy too." There was a tear in her eye. "Oh, Nana, thank you!" I hugged her so tight. I think I might have lifted her off the floor. I gave her a great big kiss on the cheek and looked back over the display. I approached the layout with reverence, lightly touching it, following the track with my eyes. I found the controls and studied them carefully. I wanted to be sure of what each one did before I went any further. I never laid my hands on anything like this. I was lost in its intricacies when I made the first tentative turn of the transformer knob. An engine came to life and slowly started to move. I felt something placed on my head, then a hug from behind and a kiss on my cheek. I could take my eyes off the train, but I'm sure I felt a little wetness there. I was lost in wonder. I carefully tried each control, only for a second at first, just to make sure it did what I thought it would. After a while, I had two trains going and track switches working. I was thrilled, and I had barely scratched the surface of what it all could do. "Davey, you're Mommy's here." I almost whined for five more minutes. I really wanted to keep playing. Instead, I called back, dejectedly, "Okay." I carefully shut everything down, reversing the order in which I started them. When I stood up, a shiver ran through me. There was wetness on the backs of my thighs. I froze. How was I going to get out of there without them seeing? "David, come on," Kathy called. "It's time to go home and leave Nana in peace." "Coming," I lied. Now she was waiting at the top of the stairs. Was there a back door to this place? "Now, David. Don't make me come down there." There was nothing else for it. I slowly climbed the steps. There may as well have been a gallows at the top. "David! What have you done? I'm ashamed of you. Apologize this instant!" "I'm sorry, Nana." I meant it too. "You and I are going to have a talk about this when I get you home. I'm so sorry, Mavis." "It's alright, dear. I shouldn't have left him alone for so long. I should have known better after this morning." "This morning? You wet your pants twice in the same day? What am I going to do with you?" "Don't be too hard on him, Kathy. It wasn't that bad. I'm sure he couldn't help it. I really should have made him sit on the potty more." "It's not your fault, Mavis. There's no excuse for his wetting himself in the daytime. He should know when he needs to go potty, shouldn't you? If he doesn't, well we'll deal with it. But I think he was just being lazy and not wanting to stop playing. Get your bag and thank Nana. We're going home." "Thank you, Nana, for everything, especially for letting me play with the trains. That was so awesome." "You're welcome, sweetheart. You can play with them anytime you want, as long as your Mommy says it's alright." Kathy took the hat off my head and handed it to Nana. "Thank you, Mavis, but I think he's lost his engineer's license for a while. We'll see if he earns it back. I'll call you later." She pushed me out the door and scolded me all the way across the street and into the house. "Go upstairs, take off your clothes, and sit on the potty. Don't move until I tell you. I'll come up when I'm calm enough to deal with you." I don't know how long I was left to sit there, long enough for my legs to fall asleep. Kathy was calmer when she came in but still visibly upset. She picked up the saturated training pants. "For heaven's sake, David, what is wrong with you? I thought by now, you'd be getting better, but your just getting worse. I so want to spank you right now, but I don't trust myself to do it. Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me? I've tried to be patient with you, but it's wearing pretty thin. I know you need a mommy right now, and I'm trying really hard to be that for you. I even told you, you could wear diapers all the time, if that's what you wanted. You said you didn't need them. You said you wanted training pants. You wanted to be a big boy. Then you go pissing your pants, not once but twice, the second time, so much you leaked. Well, mister, you listen to me, and you listen good. You want to piss your pants like a baby? Fine. You've got the whole weekend. You're going back into diapers right now, and you can piss and shit yourself to your heart's content. On Monday, if, and I mean if, I think you've learned your lesson, and you still want them, I'll consider letting you have your training pants back. But that's only going to happen if Nana will help with your toilet training. You'll sit on the potty on a schedule, you'll be supervised, your pants will be checked, and if you wet yourself, your going to be spanked, put back in diapers, and we'll start all over again the next time one of us is available to try and teach you to be a big boy. And don't think I'm going to be grounded just because you are being a baby. I have shopping to do this weekend, and you'll be coming with me, diaper bag and all. Do I make myself clear?" I had long since started crying. I sobbed, "I'm sorry." "I didn't ask if you were sorry. I said, do I make myself clear." "Yes, Mommy. Crystal." "Good. Get up and go in the bedroom. I need to get a diaper on you. You can clean up this mess afterward." "I can't," I wailed. "Are you defying me? After what you've done? Why the hell not?" "My legs are asleep." "Then I guess you'll just have to crawl like the baby you are acting like." I slid off the toilet and onto my knees. At first, I could hardly move my legs. Then the blood started to flow back into them, and that was much worse. Pins and needles only begins to describe the electric burning that flared with every movement. Kathy slapped my behind, and I screamed. Halfway to the bedroom, enough feeling had returned that I tried to stand. Kathy told me to stay where I was; she would let me know when I was allowed to walk again. I crawled up on the bed and lay back to be diapered. Kathy told me to roll over. I was sure she was going to take the belt to me, and I started bawling. Instead of fire on my bottom, I felt cold stickiness. She was slathering me with Desitin. It felt like she was using enough for three of me. I heard the rustling of diapers and saw two of them laid open next to me. She told me to roll over, and she applied a layer just as thick to the front. She covered me in a cloud of baby powder. It took her several wet wipes to get her hands reasonably clean. She taped up the double diaper and looked dissatisfied. She went away and came back with a roll of clear packing tape. She told me to stand, and she wrapped the tape around me three times. "That ought to hold you. Get in bed. From what I heard, you had more than enough to eat today. If you're quiet, and I feel like it, I might bring you a bottle later. I do not want to hear a peep out of you. Understand?" "Yes, Mommy," I squeaked. She looked down at me for a long time. Finally, she sat down on the bed. She brushed the tears from my cheeks and the hair away from my forehead. "Sweetheart, I love you. I really do. I know that this has all been hard on you. The thing is, this is all hard on me too. Shh. It's okay. I can deal with it, but you have to deal with it too. You have to decide what is going on and how you are going to handle it. What's happening isn't working. If anything, the situation is getting worse. I need you to think really hard about this. Do you think there is something wrong with you that you are losing control of your bodily functions, something physically wrong? If you do, I'll call Margaret on Monday. We'll get all the tests and specialists we need to make you better." I started to speak, but she put a finger over my lips and shushed me gently. "Don't answer now. I want you to think hard about that over the weekend. I don't know how your body feels inside. Margaret didn't find anything wrong with you before, and I don't think there is now. But you can tell me in a couple of days, after you think about it. As for me, I feel like you are trying to live in two worlds at the same time. A part of you wants to be a little boy and be taken care of. A part of you wants to be a big strong man. Both of those things are fine. But I think trying to both is hurting you. I think it's causing problems for me. I think you have to choose. If you can't handle the responsibility of keeping your pants dry, or just don't want it, you have to tell me. There are things we… I can do to prevent it from being a problem. It would mean some big changes for both of us, but we can deal with it, I promise. But you can't go around just wetting your pants, like you did today. That hurts us both, and it hurt Nana. It's all forgiven now, but you need to make some decisions. "You need to decide if there's something physically wrong with you and if not, which world you want to live in. Do you want to be a grown up, or do you need to be a little boy for now? I want you to take your time and really think about this. It's very important, and you should not make your decision quickly. I want you to take your time, and I won't ask for or listen to your answer until Monday. I'm not going to push you in any direction, and I'll respect any decision you make. But I think, and I hope you agree, that what you did today was not the right way to handle what's happening, and that it deserves some consequences." I was sniffling, but I nodded. "Good. So, until Monday morning, you are going to be in diapers. You will use them when you need to, and you will do what I say. You can learn just what it's like to be Mommy's baby and whether that's right for you. Do not ask to be let out before we discuss your decision. I am not going to change my mind. And if you think this is easy for me, think about what changing one of your dirty diapers is like for me. Now, I want you to get some sleep. It's been a trying day for both of us." She stood up, tucked me in, and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, my baby-husband, no matter what." She turned out the light and left the room. I tried to think about what she said, but it was just too much, and I drifted off into a less than peaceful sleep. I felt Kathy curl up against me, and I slept better after that. I was suddenly cold and flailing for the blankets. "Wake up, sleepyhead," Kathy sang merrily. I was still in a fog. "Let's check that dipee. Oh, yes, all wet. Let's get you changed." She was cutting through the tape she had wrapped around me before I could fully comprehend where I was, let alone what she was doing. I was more or less awake by the time she taped up the fresh diaper. She told me to put on some pants and come downstairs for breakfast. I was greeted by a spread of pancakes and sausage. This was not unheard of on a Saturday morning, but it was usually me cooking it. I sat down, and Kathy placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of me. I looked at her curiously. "Yes, I know what I said last night about your being Mommy's baby this weekend, but I don't think we have to go overboard. You do need to wear and use your diapers, and you have to do as I tell you, but I'm not going to make you drink from bottles or talk baby talk… unless you want to, that is. Oh, and unless we go out in public, you will call me Mommy, okay? I don't have any plans to go anywhere, but you never know. And public does not include Nana's house." I figured I could live with that, and I was already tucking into my pancakes anyway; so, I nodded. "Oh fay." "Don't talk with your mouth full. Then it's agreed." I'm not ashamed to admit I was stuffed when I finally put down my fork after my third helping. Okay, maybe a little ashamed, but it was really good. Kathy had long since finished and was tidying up. She brought a wet cloth when she came for my plate. "I know I said you wouldn't have to use a bottle, but maybe a bib might have been in order." I looked down and saw a number of places where syrup had dripped on my shirt. I blushed. Kathy chuckled and wiped them off. Then she wiped my face and my hands. She said I could do the dishes. I thanked her, sarcastically, for the privilege, and she gave me a warning look. I laughed. She checked my diaper, which deflated me a little, even though it was dry, and I took up the task. I don't mind washing dishes, especially when it's not many and somebody else did the cooking. The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, other than the diaper checks and changes, our normal Saturday routine. The first was a little traumatic. I felt the urge to pee coming on while I was washing up from breakfast. All the coffee I drank wanted out, but I didn't want to just stand there and wet myself. Kathy noticed my little dance at the sink. She told me I may as well get it over with, because the diaper wasn't coming off until I needed a change. I did manage to hold off until I finished and got out of her sight, but by that time, I was desperate, and it all came out in a rush, and I ended up with a very noticeable leak. Kathy just shook her head with an "I told you so" expression when I went to her but said nothing more about it when she changed me. After that, I didn't resist so much. Sunday was shaping up to be more of the same. Kathy reminded me over breakfast, just cereal and coffee, that I had a big decision to make the next day and asked whether I had thought about it. I told her I had—I'd thought of little else—but hadn't made any decisions. I puttered around the house and spent some time on the computer. Kathy spent a lot of time on the phone. Then we realized we hadn't anything in the fridge to make for dinner. Somebody was going to have to go to the store. Kathy told me to put on something decent; sweats and a t-shirt were not her idea of appropriate shopping attire. "Do I have to go?" "Of course, you have to go. I can't leave a baby home alone." "Can't I stay with Nana?" "No, we've been imposing on her enough. Just get dressed, and stop whining." "But I don't want to go out like this." "You are going out. No one is going to notice. The only question is whether you are going to go with a sore bottom, because I'm this far from spanking you." "Okay. Okay. I'll go." Kathy was right. Despite the fact that grabbing something for dinner turned into a major shopping trip, nobody seemed to notice my condition. All in all, there were no problems, at least until we were on the way home. That's when not pooping for the last couple of days decided to catch up with me. I was really trying to hold out until Monday, when I was sure I could get Kathy to let me use the toilet. No such luck. We were barely out of the grocery store parking lot when the first cramp hit me, hard. I passed some gas and felt better. Kathy cracked her window, and I apologized. A few blocks later, it happened again. It wasn't long before the cramps started coming in waves. I was holding my own, but now I had to pee. I was very uncomfortable and starting to sweat. The last wave passed about the time we pulled in the driveway, and I felt I was home free, if you'll pardon the expression. I got out of the car, and another cramp hit me so hard I nearly doubled over. I clamped down hard on my back door but forgot about my bladder. I started to pee. Shaken, I tried to stop that and lost control of my bowels. I was standing in the driveway, filling my pants front and back. I was mortified and scanning the neighborhood to see who might be watching. Kathy rushed me into the house. She took me straight to the bathroom and got my shoes and pants off. No damage was done. She asked me if I was finished, and I admitted I wasn't sure. She told me to stay there; she would unload the car. In the eternity that followed, it turned out to be the right thing to do; I wasn't finished. My diaper was a saggy mess by the time Kathy returned. She held me for a long time and shushed away my attempts to apologize. She had me lie on the floor, and she started a bath. She toughed her way through removing the diaper and a cursory cleaning. She told me to soak while she put the groceries away. I think I was starting to doze when she came back and began washing me. The bath was a tender time, and she acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I felt better, and Kathy showed me that dirty diapers or not, she was still interested in me as a husband. I was very content, and probably could have used another bath, by the time she was putting a new diaper on me. The evening passed quietly. Kathy asked me if I might want a bottle before bedtime. I told her that depended on what was in it. She smiled and told me to stay put. She came back a few minutes later with a bottle filled with wine. A baby bottle is not the best way to drink wine. It's really too much at one time, especially when one is being encouraged to drink it all up. The nipple doesn't do anything to improve the flavor. But lying with your head in the lap of your lover while getting quickly inebriated certainly makes up for it. I slept very well that night. Morning came way too early for me. The sun was barely up, and I was having a nice dream. "Get up, honey." I moaned and pulled the covers over my head. Kathy pulled them back down. "It's decision day, and I have to be at work in a couple of hours. Let's get you changed." Kathy had me sorted quickly and let me have enough coffee to bring the world into focus before starting our discussion. "Sweetheart, it's time," she started. She seemed as hesitant as I felt. "I guess the first question, and the one that kept me up a lot over the last few days, is: do you feel like something is wrong with your body? I mean with your accident yesterday; I have been really worried." "No," I assured her. "I was just hoping I could make it till today. I didn't want to do that in the diaper. If I had been able to use the bathroom, it wouldn't have been a problem." "So, you held your poopies in until you had a big accident in your diaper anyway." "I guess." "Not very mature, was it?" "I suppose not." "So, you feel like you are healthy? Nothing wrong?" "I don't think so." "Well, that's a relief. The bedwetting is one thing. There are lots of reasons that can happen, and we'll get to the bottom of it eventually. But it doesn't explain your daytime accidents. Are you sure there's nothing going on inside?" "Yes, I'm fine." "Then why have you been peeing your pants? Can you feel when you need to go?" "Yes." "Does it hurt to go? Are you having a hard time going? Can't you hold it?" "No, no, and no. I'm fine, really." "Then why are you wetting your pants?" She didn't seem concerned anymore, more irritated. "I don't know." "Are you just trying to get my attention? Do you feel like I'm neglecting you?" "No, of course not." "Then what is it? Are you just being lazy?" "I… I don't know." "David, we both know that you can't go around wetting your pants all the time." "It's not all the time." "Don't interrupt. The way I see it, you are just being irresponsible. Like I told you before, if you don't want the responsibility, there are ways I can handle it. But if you want to be a big boy, you have to get a grip on this and stop wetting and pooping your pants right now. You've had all weekend to think about this. There are two choices left. You can be a responsible grown up, or you can be a little boy. So, what's it going to be?" "What happens if I choose to be a grown up?" "I'll expect you to act like a grown up. You look for a new job. Until you find one, you'll be expected to take care of the house. And I will not tolerate wet or poopy pants. There will be consequences, if that happens. That might be spanking you the first few times, but I will not put up with it indefinitely." "You'd leave me?" I asked, visibly scared that she might. "I'm not saying that. I don't plan to; I don't want to. I just can't say it's out of the question. I guess it depends on how hard you push me." "Please, please don't. I don't want to lose you. What about the other choice? What if I was a little boy?" "Sweetheart, I don't want to lose you either. I love you, no matter what you decide. But to answer your question, little boys are different. They can't be expected to be responsible all the time. Little boys have accidents in their pants. That's why they can't wear big boy undies. Mommies understand this. But little boys who wet themselves can't really be trusted to change themselves when they need to, can they? That means that they can't be left alone. They need to be watched to make sure they get changed regularly and don't get diaper rash, which means you'll have to stay with Nana while I'm at work. We have already discussed this, and it's all decided. On the other hand, because you can't expect too much from little boys, they get to play a lot more. Sure, they'll have some chores, but not like a grown up." "You mean I'd have to wear diapers all the time? Could I maybe be a little boy and still wear regular underpants?" "Sweetie, we discussed this. I think it's this half in, half out attitude that is causing your problems. I think that, for right now, you need to be a little boy, that it would be good for you, and that it's what you really want too. But I also think you are fighting it, trying to act like a grownup sometimes and not others. I think you are being pulled between what you want and need, on the one hand, and what you think you should be doing, on the other. I think it's that tension that's causing a lot of your problems. For your own sake, if not for mine, you need to pick one or the other, because not choosing is hurting both of us." "But I don't want to wear diapers all the time." "Don't whine, honey. I've thought about this a lot. I think it would be a lot easier if you did, but if you really don't want to, we can try you in training pants during the day. Nighttime is non-negotiable for now; so is naptime. But understand, your wearing training pants comes with a lot more responsibility for everyone. For you, that would mean telling me or Nana when you have to go potty. No, you cannot just go by yourself. Nana and I will each decide whether you need to be supervised, but I want you to tell us when you have to go, so we can keep track. Nana and I would also be telling you, from time to time, that we want you to sit on the potty and try. You said you are not sick; so, there should be no excuses for having accidents in your training pants. If you do, Nana and I will each decide whether it deserves a spanking. I've already given her permission to spank you for this or any other disobedience. You do not want to find out what will happen if you give her any trouble about it. If you have two accidents in one day, you'll go back to diapers until I decide you are ready to try again. If you can live with those rules and promise to try really hard, we'll try you in training pants for the time being. Nana and I will also decide whether you should be in diapers if we have to take you somewhere, and there won't be any arguments, understand?" "Yes." She looked at me expectantly. "Mommy." "Alright. That's one way to go. Your other choice would be to just wear diapers all the time. You wouldn't have to worry about when you had to go potty. We'll check you and change you when you need it. If you want to make poopies in the potty, you can tell us. Let's face it; changing your dirty diapers is not fun. You don't have to, but you can. But we'll decide whether it's convenient to put you on the potty; so, no whining. We may still tell you to try making peepee in the potty, but you are not to ask. If this is the way you want to go, I want you to relax and not be concerned about keeping your pants dry. Let us worry about them. No one will make a fuss over a wet or dirty diaper; that's what they are there for. You can play or do your chores and not worry about wetting your pants. "So, you have a couple of choices to make, and I need you to make them now. There are no wrong answers here. I love you and will support you whatever you decide. I want you to do what you think is best for you. First, do you want to try being a grownup, or do you want to be a little boy?" I tumbled the alternatives in my brain. I had been contemplating it all weekend but didn't have this new information to work with. Kathy waited patiently, but I caught her checking her watch. "Little boy," I finally gave in. "I really think that's for the best. So, diapers or training pants?" "Can we do training pants, please?" I whined. "Are you sure? You know the consequences, if you start having accidents." I hesitated, asking myself whether I was making the right decision. "Uh huh." "Alright then. You had fair warning; so, you had better not abuse the privilege. Now, I need to get to work. Let's check your diaper." She came around and put her hand on the front. "Still dry. That's fine. Just tell Nana when you need the potty, and she'll put you in your training pants. Now, go get dressed, or I'm going to be late." "I don't get them now?" "I told you before, I'm not wasting perfectly good diapers. Now, go get dressed; or would you prefer to discuss it over my lap?" "I'm going," I sighed. By the time I was back downstairs, Kathy was waiting by the door with, what I could only assume, was my diaper bag. She took me by the hand and led me across the street. Nana opened the door as we approached. "There he is," she sang. "That was a very grown up decision you made. But the last one for a while, hmm? We're going to have lots of fun together while you get all better, okay?" I found myself shyly nodding my head and trying to slip behind Kathy. Kathy defended me, saying, "I guess he's feeling a little shy this morning. Here's his diaper bag. He can help you bring more supplies over after he gets settled in, but that should hold you for now. He still has his diaper on from this morning, but we're going to try him in training pants for a while. We've discussed the rules. He can have his pull-ups after he goes potty. I guess that's it for now. I think we discussed everything over the weekend, but if you run into any difficulties, you have my cell." She kissed my cheek. "Be good for Nana. I don't want any bad reports. I love you, sweetie. Have fun today." She took my hand from hers and gave it to Nana. Then she was off. Nana raised my hand and waved it for me. When Kathy's car was headed down the road, Nana took me inside. She asked me if I wanted something to eat. I told her I ate already. She filled a sippy cup with apple juice anyway. "Why don't you just take that and go play with your trains. We can talk when you're a little more awake, okay?" I was relieved to be off the hook for a while and welcomed the chance to be alone with my thoughts. I nodded and headed for the basement. Nana called after me. "Don't forget to come find me when you have to go potty." That caused me to stop and cringe for a second. I guess that was enough acknowledgment for Nana, because she said no more. I blushed and continued on my way. I had planned on brooding over my new life, but once I got started with the trains, all other thoughts left my head. Sometime later, a voice invaded my play. "Davey," it sang. "Davey?" "David! Stop that train." Nana was standing at my shoulder. I cut the power and the train slowed to stop. "You answer when Nana calls you, young man. You've been down here quite a while. I think you had better take a break and sit on the potty, don't you?" Now that she mentioned it, I did, more than I realized. "Uh huh." "Come on then. I'll get you some more juice too." I practically ran up the stairs to the bathroom. She shouted after me to slow down. I was in the bathroom trying to get my pants down when she caught up with me. It was difficult to do while dancing. "Let's get that diaper off." She pushed my hands away and undid the tapes herself. She pulled it from between my legs and pushed me back to sit. A stream hit the water almost immediately. "Just in time, I see. Well, almost in time." There was a small, but not inconsequential wet spot on the diaper. I was mortified. "That's alright. I shouldn't have let you stay down there so long. We won't mention this, okay." I nodded gratefully. "Stay there, and I'll be right back with some dry pants." She wasn't gone long but long enough for me to berate myself for not paying more attention to my bladder. I told her I could dress myself, but she insisted on helping. She suggested we take care of a few chores before lunch. These included going to my house to bring over more supplies. I said I didn't think we needed so many pairs of training pants, and I begged her not to bring the diapers. "Better safe than sorry. Besides, you'll need them for your naps." I didn't plan on taking any naps, but it seemed pointless to argue with her. So, I trudged back across the street with a big cardboard box of what would be my underwear for the foreseeable future. It was lunchtime, and Nana fixed us sandwiches. I was pleased she didn't try to make me wear a bib, but she did insist I use the sippy cup. Afterward, she had more chores for us. True to her word, she frequently asked me if I needed to use the potty, several times insisting that I try. I couldn't tell whether she was smiling or smirking when I produced. Late in the afternoon she suggested I watch TV until my mommy got home. I was happy to oblige. I must have nodded off, because Nana was pulling down my pants. "Shh. Calm down, sweetheart. You're very tired, and I think we should get a diaper on you, just in case." "I'll stay awake, I promise." "Don't worry, honey. It's okay if you don't want to take a nap. Nana will feel much better though, if we put your diaper on. Do you want to use the potty first?" I shook my head. There was no arguing with her. "Alright; if you're sure. We'll just put this on, and you can rest." Safely wrapped up, she let me return to my movie. I didn't see the end. The sun was much lower when I heard Kathy's voice. "I hope he wasn't any trouble today." "Nothing serious dear. I left him to play too long this morning. He mostly made it in the potty. That was my fault, and you shouldn't say anything about it. Otherwise, he was a very good boy, hardly any fuss. He might be a little wet now. He didn't want to use the potty before I put him down for his nap." I stretched, making it known that I was awake and giving me an opportunity to check my pants. I was disappointed to find Nana was right. I was a little wet. "Hi, baby," Kathy beamed, sitting down next to me. "Did you have fun with Nana today?" Other than the trains, I wouldn't have called it fun, but it wasn't bad. "Uh huh." "And were you a good boy for Nana?" I looked up at Mrs. Travers; she was smiling back at me. "Yes, Mommy. I was good." "He sure was. He helped me a lot," Nana praised. I nodded in agreement. "That's my good boy." Kathy hugged me. "But now it's time to get you home and fed. Thank Nana." "Thank you, Nana," I said automatically. I pushed back the blanket she must have covered me with and stood up. Kathy felt my crotch and appeared to come to some decision. She picked up the diaper bag and kissed Nana on the cheek. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. I don't know what I'd do without you. Say bye-bye, Davey." "Bye-bye, Nana. See you tomorrow." "Think nothing of it, Kathy. It's my pleasure. Bye-bye, sweetheart. Maybe we'll make cookies tomorrow. How does that sound?" My face lit up. "Don't get him thinking about cookies. I need to get dinner in him. Thanks again. I'll see you in the morning." Kathy took me home and immediately started to take things out for dinner. I tried to help, but she insisted I sit down and tell her about my day. I did and watched her cook while feeling bad that she had worked all day and was now working again. I told her I was going to wash up and use the potty. I couldn't stop calling it that. "It's alright, honey. Just use your diaper. It's already damp, and I'm going to have to change you for bedtime anyway." I sulked back to the bathroom. I wet myself while washing my hands. Dinner was up to Kathy's usual standards. I would have made a pig of myself, if she'd have let me. She left the washing up to me, which alleviated my guilt. Kathy came back as I was drying the last dish. "Okay, baby, bath time." "Already? I don't want to go to bed yet." "I didn't say you had to go to bed, but if you're getting cranky, maybe you should." "No. Sorry." "That's better. Come on then." Bath time was fun. Kathy had picked up some bath toys. It took some encouragement on her part for me to try them out. After pushing a boat around tentatively, she left me alone. Without an audience, it was easier for me to try playing. I was really getting into it when she came back. I didn't want to stop, but she said I was already pruning up, and she needed to get me clean. Her ministrations were fun too. Dried and back in the bedroom, I saw a large cloth diaper on the bed. "Where did that come from?" "I picked those up today," she said, as if she were talking about a new pair of socks. "The lady at the store said they were much more effective for nighttime, especially for side sleepers. She told me they are very comfortable too." I wasn't at all sure about this. Arguing with Kathy is rarely productive, but maybe I could distract her. "But it's still early. I'm not ready to go to bed yet." "It's not that early. You'll be going to bed soon. You may as well get ready now." "But what if I need to pee?" "Well, we'll just have to take it off. Anyway, you just went, and it's not like it would be the first wet diaper you slept in, would it?" "I guess." "Then lay your butt down, so I can get your diaper on, and we can watch TV for a while. Or would you prefer I give you a spanking and put you to bed right now?" I made the only sensible decision. Instead of closing the diaper up right away, Kathy started smearing sticky, white paste on my bottom. "The clerk said it's important to protect against diaper rash when using cloth." Lots of powder followed. Kathy's rubbing everything in overcame any displeasure I had with the experience. All too soon, Kathy brought the front of the diaper up and pinned it in place. She threaded plastic pants over my feet and had me stand up. The cloth diaper—or diapers I should say; there were obviously several—felt entirely different, the plastic pants even more so. The diaper was pleasantly soft, although it inhibited my movements, much like the double disposables had. The plastic pants were scratchy around the openings. They came up well onto my abdomen and ballooned out. They were somewhat stiff and made a soft, almost crackly sound when I moved. I caught sight of myself in Kathy's chevalier mirror. Let's be clear; there is nothing mature looking about a man in an adult diaper, except perhaps the knowledge that old people wear them. However, there is something vaguely clinical about them, and under the right clothes, they are relative discrete. On the other hand, a thick cloth diaper covered by billowing plastic pants is nothing short of infantile. It would take a lot to overcome the impression that the wearer is a big baby who can't control himself. I stared at my reflection for a long time, pondering what I was becoming. "I think you look adorable," Kathy said, hugging me from behind. "Here, let's put your jammies on, and then we can go watch some TV, okay?" I tore my eyes away from the mirror and let Kathy dress me. I was still stunned and had no will to resist. As I walked down the stairs, I felt I was moving as I looked, like a baby. The swaying of my hips and the rustling of the plastic pants confirmed with each step the road I was on. "What's the matter, baby?" Kathy asked when she saw my tears. "That," I said, pointing at the mirror. "That's what's the matter. I'm turning into a baby. What's wrong with me?" "Oh, honey, there's nothing wrong with you. You're still my big strong man. It's just that you're my adorable little baby too. And I love you so much!" "How can you love me like… this?" "Sweetie, sweetie, I love you like this, or any other way. This is what you need right now. There's nothing wrong with it. You're having a bit of rough patch right now, and we are dealing with it the best way we know how. You're just feeling vulnerable, and that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay; it's attractive." "You find this attractive?" "Yes, I do. You may not realize it, but you have been far more open than you have been in a really long time. I feel I am able to get closer to you than I can remember. You are letting me in on your feelings, where you have been hiding them for years. It feels good to be needed. If what you are wearing helps with all that, I'm more than okay with it. Truth be told, I find the fact that I'm 'in charge' of some things very sexy." As if to prove the point, she snuggled closer and rubbed the front of my pants. She placed my hand on her own crotch, which was noticeably hot and damp. "I love you, baby, and I always will. Now, how about a smile for Mommy? Can you do that? Would you like Mommy's titty? Would that make you feel better?" Let's just say I was feeling much better by the time we went to sleep. Over the next several weeks, after some trial and error, we settled into a routine. Kathy would drop me off at Nana's house. I would have breakfast and some time to wake up with the paper or internet. There'd be some chores to do before lunch. Afterward, I would be put down for a nap. At first, I fought this, but after getting spankings from both Nana and Kathy, I stopped resisting. After my nap, I'd help Nana with whatever she wanted to do. Sometimes, it was chores; other times, it was baking or shopping. Then, I had playtime; that usually meant the trains. The reason I disliked the naps, and why I fought them the way I did, was that Nana and Kathy insisted that I be diapered, just in case. That wouldn't have been so bad, but they also insisted that throwing away a dry diaper was just wasteful. I did not get my training pants back until I was wet. I think that contributed to my increasingly frequent naptime wettings. I mostly enjoyed my time with Nana. She was sweet, always made me feel special, and often gave me treats. I was starting to put on weight. The downside was her approach to "toilet training" me. She made me try to use the potty far more frequently than necessary. I wouldn't have minded so much, but it always seemed to be at an inopportune moment, and she insisted on taking me and helping me with my pants. I told her I could just go myself, but she would have none of it. She said she had to make sure I hadn't had an accident and that I did something in the toilet. If I didn't produce, the look of disappointment on her face was deeply disheartening. If several attempts did not result in anything, she would make be sit there until something happened. She would get very cross and tell me she was not going to let me wet my pants just because I was too lazy or obstinate to use the potty like a big boy. My protests that she was just making me try too often, and that I always made when I asked to use the potty, fell on deaf ears. This poor timing came to a head one day when I was playing with the trains. I had been very wet after my nap, and Nana made me use the potty a couple of times while doing my chores. I didn't need to go when she took me up a while into my playtime. About fifteen minutes after she let me go downstairs, I started to feel the urge. I was sure she would be back to get me soon, as that had become the pattern. She didn't, and I continued play as my bladder became more insistent. I was getting toward the point of desperation when I went to find Nana and tell I needed the potty. I found her on the phone. I stood and watched her until she took notice of me. She excused herself and covered the mouthpiece. She asked me what I wanted, and I told her of my need. "I just took you a few minutes ago." "I didn't need to go then." "If that's true, you shouldn't need to go that badly now. I'll be with you when I'm off the phone. Go play." "Sorry, about that," she said into the receiver. "I'm watching the neighbor's boy, and he wanted my attention. ... He says he needs to go potty, but I just took him five minutes ago.… No, no, I'm sure he can hold it for a couple of minutes. He needs to learn that he can't just go the moment he feels like it.… Yes, boys are always more difficult to train.… Ha, ha, ha, yes, men too. Davey, go play. I'll be with you as soon as I'm off the phone." I ducked back downstairs, muttering to myself that it had been a lot more than five minutes, and she should have just let me go by myself. I tried to play some more, but my need was growing stronger. A few minutes later, I was back upstairs and making gestures to indicate that time was of the essence. She wasn't paying attention. "Nana," I whispered. Nothing. "Nana," I said a little louder. "Nana," I whined, louder still and fearful I would be heard over the phone. "Davey, don't interrupt. I told you I would be right with you. If you can't behave yourself, you can go stand in the corner. Go on, march." Her look left no doubt that she was serious. I stomped my foot and went to the corner the indicated. "I'm sorry. You were saying?" Her conversation went on and on. It wasn't long before I was clutching myself and shifting from foot to foot. "What? Yours too? I guess you had better be going. Goodbye, Debbie. Give my love to Tony." She must have been talking to her daughter-in-law. She hung up the phone and walked up behind me. She gave a hard swat to my behind. That was more than I could take, and a large squirt erupted into my training pants. "David, I'm very disappointed in you. Don't you know it's rude to interrupt when someone is on the phone? I bet you don't interrupt your Mommy when she's on the phone, do you?" "No," I conceded. "But…" "But nothing. Whatever it was could have waited. I told you I wasn't going to be long." "But I had to go potty," I whined. "You're a big boy, you can hold it for a couple of minutes, can't you?" "Yeah," I said tentatively. "Let's get you to the potty then," she sighed. Once in the bathroom, I started to undo my pants. I was really hoping she would go away. Instead, she brushed my hands away and took over. "David! How could you? You said you could hold it. I thought you were a big boy." "I am. I can. But… you spanked me." "That little slap on the tushy? That's your excuse? Well, we'll just see about that. I'll show you what a real spanking is, after you finish on the potty. If there's anything left, that is." She pushed me down firmly onto the seat and, much to my embarrassment, pushed my pee pee down between my legs for me. She would usually leave me alone to do my business, but not this time. She hovered, glaring at me and tapping her foot. I forced myself to overcome my bladder shyness and peed a still considerable amount. I felt the rumblings of a bowel movement coming on, but with Nana standing there, it wasn't going to happen. When she decided it was done, grabbed my wrist, pulled me up, flushed the toilet, and dragged me to her room with my pants still around my ankles. She grabbed a hairbrush off her dresser and sat down on her bed. I was over her knees in a trice. She put the hairbrush to work right away and had me blubbering out excuses, apologies, and promises before I could think. She kept up a steady barrage of scolding. "I just can't believe it, a big boy like you, interrupting me on the phone, peeing his pants, blaming it on one little slap, can't wait a couple of minutes to use the potty. I've known toddlers better behaved. Just wait till your Mommy hears about this. I'm sure she won't be happy. I can tell you this. You' won't be wetting your pants again in my house, not today. You're going right back into diapers where you belong." I'm not sure those were her exact words, but they were the gist of it. I'm not even sure she heard my protests that I tried, and she was a lot longer than a couple of minutes on the phone. I hadn't realized she stopped when she made me stand up and dragged me to the room I napped in. She pushed me down on the bed and got a diaper out. My blazing behind was wrapped up before I knew, and she was telling me I would be staying in bed the rest of the afternoon. "And if I hear one peep out of you, you'll think that spanking was playing pat-a-cake." She left me sobbing, while she muttered about the earful my mommy was going to get later. I willed myself to sleep, anything to avoid thoughts of what Mommy was going to say when she got there. I felt a gentle shaking of my shoulder, drawing me back to the land of the living. I was grateful to escape my troubled dreams, but when I saw Mommy sitting beside me, my eyes began to fill with tears again. I opened my mouth to beg her forgiveness, but she placed a finger over my lips. "Not now, sweetie. We'll talk about it when we get home." She helped me to sit up and put on some pants. "Let's get you home and fed, and we'll have a nice long talk, okay?" She didn't seem mad. That worried me. It wasn't like Kathy to restrain her feelings, and when she did, it usually resulted in a real blowout. She took my hand and led me downstairs. I followed with trepidation. Nana was waiting. She appeared considerably calmer too. I didn't understand, but I was not unhappy when she gave me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, with promises to see me tomorrow. Kathy was crossing the street leisurely, but my stress level went up with every step closer to our house. I was sure she would lower the boom as soon as we were behind closed doors. Instead, she pulled me into an embrace and rocked me. Without letting go, she made a quick diaper check and announced I would be fine until after supper. She took me into the kitchen and had me sit, while she prepared our meal. I asked if I could help, but she wouldn't hear of it. It was a simple supper, which I would have enjoyed more if I hadn't been waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Sweetie, about what happened at Nana's today," she began. Here it comes, I thought. "Nana wanted me to apologize for her getting so upset with you. After she put you down and had time to think, she realized that she really was talking for a long time, and she should have listened to you and taken you to the potty sooner." "If she'd just let me go by myself…" "Shh. It's okay. We know you are having trouble making it to the potty in time, and we shouldn't keep you waiting." "But I can," I protested. "Honey, are your pants wet now?" Without thinking, I put my hands to my crotch, and blushed when I felt the squish. "Come here, baby." I stood and walked around to her. She unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down. She squeezed the front of my diaper and looked at me. "Sweetie, you are more wet than when I got you up from your nap. Did you know that?" I didn't, and I felt another cry coming on. "There, there, sweetheart. Don't worry. Mommy's not mad. I know you can't help it. I think your worrying about keeping your pants dry is getting to be too much for you. You're just not ready yet." "I am," I whined. "No, honey, I don't think so. That's why Mommy got you some new diapers today. They're cloth and have Velcro. You'll be able to feel if you wet them, and Nana will be able to get them off in a hurry if she has to. I don't want you to worry about making it to the potty in time. Nana will take you when she thinks you should try, but if you wet your diaper, nobody is going to be mad. No more spankings for wet pants, doesn't that sound good?" Something in her logic felt wrong, but I found myself nodding in agreement. "We can try potty training again after a while, but for right now, I want you to relax and not think about it, okay? You just play and help Nana and Mommy when we ask. Will you do that for Mommy?" Kathy was being so nice about the whole thing, I just sniffled and nodded my ascent. She stood up and drew me into a hug that I could have stayed in forever. "Let's get you a nice tubby and then you can go night-night, okay?" Do I have to? by nautybaby ©2019-2024
  2. “Ugh, this is so fucking typical!” Kelsey shouted in a frustrated tone, poking and prodding at her food with her fork before letting it drop to the plate as it sent out a loud, echoing crash. “Why is it so difficult to just send it back!?” Danny stared down at his own pasta as he stirred it around with his fork. He felt hopeless and completely unsure of himself as his eyes darted around the various points on his plate. He’d thought dinner had been going well up to this point, but like most things it seemed he was wrong. “Can’t you just eat around them?” He asked stupidly as he tried to get her to lower her voice, not wanting to have to wave a waiter down and demand that the restaurant remake the dish. “No, Danny. I’m not just going to eat around them. The entire dish is disgusting!” Kelsey shouted, clearly catching the attention of everyone around her. “It's not that damn hard!” Danny felt himself tensing up, feeling the eyes of those around them all looking in their direction as the waiter slowly dragged his feet in their general direction, obviously trying to avoid Kelsey himself. “Is uh- there anything I can do to make this meal more enjoyable, folks?” The waiter asked awkwardly, not sure how this was going to go as he stood off to the side, practically ready to dart at a moment's notice. Kelsey stared at Danny, widening her eyes as she waited for him to respond which only worsened the anxiety he had been feeling up until now. “Err- '' Danny started. “I- Is it possible too,” He started, feeling too nervous to ask for a replacement dish. After all, Kelsey had specifically ordered this dish, why was that the restaurant's fault? “Do you want to trade dishes?” He suddenly interjected, having thought of what he figured was the perfect compromise but Kelsey’s face made it very clear she wasn’t having it. She scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “Can you show me to the door?” She asked the waiter, suddenly getting up from the table as she grabbed her purse and followed after the waiter towards the exit. “Kelsey?” Danny sheepishly called out, now completely overwhelmed as his mind flooded with dark thoughts as his heart grew heavy in his chest. “We’re done, Danny. Find your own ride home,” She shouted back, not even gracing him with a look as she walked towards the door, the waiter awkwardly standing to the side as she passed, unsure if she actually needed someone to show her the way out. Danny’s heart sank further as he watched her walk away. He could feel all of the eyes in the restaurant on him as he heard murmurs and whispers that he could only assume were about what had just happened. Tears swelled in his eyes as he tried to hold them back, quickly losing as he reached for his napkin to wipe them away before anyone could see. 5 months gone, just like that. Not only was she his ride, she was his home, his roommate and if anything he’d at least thought she was his friend. They’d moved in together just over 2 months ago in an attempt to save money and now he was left sitting at a restaurant with no way home, or even a home to return to. “Is there- anything I can do for you, sir?” The waiter asked as he tried to hold his own composure. “Just a- check and a box, please,” Danny muttered as he avoided any form of eye contact, holding back more tears as he felt completely humiliated. The waiter nodded, quickly returning with a box and the check as asked before quickly helping pack up Kelsey’s meal as he could tell Danny wanted out of there. Danny awkwardly shuffled out of the booth and made his way out of the restaurant only to be met with a bitterly cold breeze at the front door as he stepped outside. The dimly lit, empty strip mall parking lot did little to boost his mood as he felt himself begin to shiver as he reached for his phone, delicately balancing the boxes of food in his other hand as he scrolled through his contacts in a desperate state of uncertainty. Hesitantly, he clicked on one as the phone started to ring. His anxiety numbed by the bitter cold as the rings echoed in his ear. “Hello?” A woman's voice said over the phone. “Uh- Hi…Mommy,” Danny said quietly, hearing his ex-girlfriend pick up on the other line. “Danny, sweetie,” Crystal asked. “What's going on?” She asked in a worrying tone. “I uh- was wondering if you could give me a ride,” Danny asked as he crossed his arms in an attempt to hold in some body heat. “Of course, why? Are you okay?” Crystal asked, sounding slightly panicked. “Yea…just… got dumped and left at the restaurant…” Danny said awkwardly. “Awww, you poor baby,” Crystal cooed with a condescending tone that Danny pretended not to pick up on. “Where are you at?” “Terry’s…” “Oh, I love Terry’s Bistro!” Crystal said ecstatically. “Tell you what, if you’re buying dinner, I’ll come give you a ride,” Crystal happily explained. “Oh uh- I already ate?” Danny said stupidly, not sure how else to avoid the complete humiliation of having to reenter that restaurant. “No worries, you can just share a drink with- well what does that make me?” Crystal asked teasingly. “Uh- sorry?” Danny asked, having been caught completely off guard. “Well, you left me because you wanted to play big kid with your new girlfriend, but now you’re calling me Mommy again?” Danny blushed quietly as he stayed silent, unsure of what to say. Crystal let the silence echo on for a few seconds before chiming in again. “Well you stay right there, sweetie. I’m coming and we can talk over dinner,” She said, promptly hanging up the phone before Danny could interject anymore. A cold gust of wind swept through the parking lot as Danny felt the little warmth left in his body be washed away. He stood trembling for a minute as he weighed his options. On one hand there was the option of braving it in the cold until one of his fingers ultimately started to purple, or there was the inevitable walk back into the restaurant where everyone could see him in his current disheartened, and trembling state. Though the decision was made rather quickly as another cold breeze swept through the parking lot, taking what little warmth he had left as he took a deep breath in before opening the doors to the restaurant as he graciously stepped back inside to accept the warmth. He stood sheepishly as the hostess pretended to fumble with some menus behind her stand before acknowledging his return. “I know I just left, but uh- can I get a table for two?” Danny said awkwardly, getting a confused look from the hostess who obviously was fully clued in to all that had just happened. “Of course,” She said without skipping a beat. “Right this way,” Danny anxiously spun his glass of water around as he watched the condensation fall to the table, pooling at the base as he tried not to think about the fact that everyone must be talking about him. Tables slowly emptied out as the waiter occasionally passed by to check on him as he waited for Crystal to arrive. Would it be a positive thing when another woman showed up, or would that only make them judge him more? 20 long minutes passed before the door chime went off as Crystal walked into the restaurant, glancing around before locking eyes with Danny as he let out a sigh of relief. She made her way over, taking a seat opposite of Danny with a smile. “Danny, sweetie. How are you?” Danny forced a smile back, still fighting back the occasional tear as he relived the night in his head as he wondered if there was anything he could have done differently. “I’ve been better,” He admitted, twirling the water cup around in circles. “Oh, you poor thing,” Crystal said, reaching her hand out to put on his. Danny stopped twirling his glass as he looked up at her. She was older than him and she always had a way to just make him melt. They had been together for years prior before Danny had made the stupid decision to branch out and meet new people. Though, in his defense it was partially encouraged by Crystal who didn’t think it was right that she was the only woman he had ever dated, but Danny had loved their time together. She was warm and compassionate and never struggled to cheer him up. She often knew him better than he knew himself and he’d always thought of her as his rock. Danny stared into her eyes for a second, giving Crystal the glimmer of tears he had been holding back before he reached for a napkin to wipe them away again. Crystal said nothing as he wiped them dry just as the waiter from early approached. “Hi!” He said, obviously shocked that a second person had actually showed up. “Can I start you off with a drink or anything?” “Well hello handsome,” Crystal said playfully, giving the waiter a quick glance over as he fought back a blush. “I’m going to have the prime rib. Mashed potatoes and green beans as the side, and a glass of red. Whatever you would recommend,” She said in a firm yet soft tone, all while giving him a rather wide smile. “Anything else,” He asked, feeling a little blushed in the face himself as he frantically wrote down the order. “Something strong for this kiddo,” She said, turning her attention back to Danny who was purposefully avoiding eye contact as he spun his water glass around. “Better make that a double,” She said before the waiter walked away. “So, tell me what happened,” Crystal asked. Danny shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. “Come on,” Crystal said. “You didn’t make me drive all the way out here for nothing, did you?” Danny sat quietly, mulling over the night in his head as he tried to piece together what happened for himself. “She uh, made a big scene at the table…said it was over…and then stormed out,” Danny said quietly, still spinning his water glass. “That's it? There wasn’t anything you did, or said?” Crystal pestered, knowing it wasn’t the full story. Danny shrugged again. “She just…” He started, trailing off as he felt ashamed. “Hey, look at me,” Crystal said, reaching out her hand. Danny instantly grabbed hold, slowly lifting his head to look at her as he forced himself to take a few deep breaths, already feeling overwhelmed. “Had you told her?” Crystal asked. Danny stared confused for a second, before putting the pieces together as he shook his head. “So then the two of you just grew apart?” Danny shrugged again. “Dear,” Crystal said sternly. “This isn’t going to go anywhere if you just shrug it off,” Danny let out a deep sigh. “It’s been…tense…for the last few weeks,” “Few weeks? Didn’t you just move in together the other month?” Crystal asked, already starting to guess at what the problem was. Danny nodded. “The first month seemed good. Then she started complaining that I wasn’t doing enough, and every little detail became this massive argument,” Crystal leaned back in her booth as she just smirked at Danny. Part of her had hoped he would become a little more independent with another woman, but it was clear he really hadn’t learned anything. At least not yet. The waiter returned with her wine, setting the glass down in front of her before sliding a double shot of whiskey to Danny who stared at it wide eyed. He hated most alcohols, but whiskey was especially the least of his favorites. “Your food will be out in another couple of minutes,” The waiter said, giving a smile to Crystal before turning to leave. “I think the kid is going to need a chaser too,” Crystal said with a smirk, giving the waiter's arm a soft touch as he turned to leave as she quickly remembered his hatred for anything that wasn’t sweet enough. “Of course…” The waiter started, looking at Danny. Crystal let out a laugh. His hopelessness was rather cute as Danny continued to twirl his cup, unaware the waiter was even waiting for a response.. “He’ll take a glass of apple juice,” Crystal said, watching the waiter's expression shift as he nodded and turned away. Danny waited for the waiter to leave before awkwardly looking up as he looked at Crystal. “Drink up,” Crystal said. Danny looked back down at the drink. “It’s-” He started. “Take a sip,” Crystal insisted. Danny did as he was told, slowly taking a sip as his face turned to disgust as the liquid sent a strong burning taste throughout his mouth as he recoiled in disgust. “Don’t be such a baby. Drink more,” Crystal insisted, swirling her glass of wine as she took a sip. Stupidly, he tried to gulp a large amount of it back as the burning sensation filled his mouth, spreading down his throat as he forced it down, desperately reaching for the glass of water as he sought immediate relief. Crystal let out a laugh that was soon followed by a chuckle from the waiter who had been unable to hold himself together after having watched everything Danny had gone through tonight. He slid the apple juice across the table, giving Danny a forced smile before chuckling to himself as he walked away. Dinner dragged on as Crystal pried into every little detail about Danny’s life over the past 5 months since they had broken up as she learned just how little had changed. “So, where am I taking you?” Crystal finally asked, breaking up the conversation. Danny felt himself shrink again, having momentarily forgotten about his predicament. “Uh- just the closest hotel I guess,” Crystal paused for a second, scraping the last of her mashed potatoes onto her fork. “Is that what you want?” She asked, cleaning her fork off before chasing down her last bite with the rest of the wine. Danny shrugged, unsure of what his other options were. “When you called me earlier, you said Mommy,” Crystal said, watching as his cheeks reddened. “Your old room is sitting empty if your interested,” Danny looked up, locking eyes with Crystal as he felt himself practically ready to cry again. “Rules would be the same, but if you want something a little more permanent than a hotel…” Danny nodded, suddenly feeling the burden of having to figure out the next steps drop from his chest as he downed the last of his whiskey, chasing it with the meager sip of apple juice he had left himself. “Well then,” Crystal said, wiping her mouth with a napkin as she scooted to the edge of her seat. “Mommy’s going to go use the bathroom,” She said quietly. “Take care of the bill and meet me outside,” Did you enjoy the story? Consider supporting my work over on SubscribeStar! Or be sure to let me know what you thought by interacting with the post!
  3. An Anonymous commission. Enjoy. “Happy Anniversary!” Mikey said from the dining table, seeing his girlfriend of one year walk out of the bedroom. “Happy Anniversary!” Lilith said with a smile, not hesitating to help herself to a cup of coffee that Mikey had brewed earlier. “Got any big plans for us today?” “Uh, hadn’t really thought that far. But I do have something that I have been trying to build the courage to tell you…” Mikey said, looking down at his coffee in an attempt to avoid eye contact. “Oh, cool,” Lilith said, grabbing her coffee and joining him at the table. “What's up?” “Umm, I’ve got something that I’ve been meaning to tell you…I just…” Mikey started. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything. Besides, there's something that I should probably tell you too,” Lilith said, taking a sip of her coffee as she gazed into Mikey’s hazel eyes. “Really?” Mikey asked, shooting up with excitement. “Yea, but you first,” Lilith said, grabbing her boyfriend's hand. Mikey sat up a little, as if preparing to give some kind of public speech. “Ok- uh…” He started. “I uh- have a kink that I am really into and…” Mikey paused. He could feel his stomach churning with nerves as he tried to muster the courage to say it. “It’s okay, sweety. You can tell me anything,” Lilith said, smiling at him from across the table with her deep, mossy green eyes. Mikey couldn’t help but let out a smile as he felt butterflies in his stomach. “I’m an…ABDL…” He said, letting out a quick sigh. “What's that?” Lilith said, playing dumb. She had known for quite awhile now, having scrolled through the contents of his phone while he was asleep, but had decided that it wasn’t fair to call him out on it. It was something that he needed to feel comfortable admitting. Admittedly, it was also something that she was really into. Being unable to conceive children herself, she had always fantasized about finding a man to fill that hole for her. Mikey blushed, feeling beyond embarrassed. “Like…baby stuff…” He started. Lilith smiled. “Oh! Is that it?” She said practically gleaming. “What all does that entail?” “Um-” He gulped, feeling his leg frantically bounce under the table. “I like to be babied…use diapers…play with toys…” “Oh my gosh! That's so cute!” Lilith said, quickly getting up from the table to run over and give Mikey a big hug. She pulled him in close, tightly squeezing him as she started to imagine the possibilities. “Phew…that's a huge weight off my back,” Mikey said, looking emotionally drained from the anticipation. “So what's your secret?” “Well…” Lilith started. “Remember how I said I work remotely?” “Yea?” Mikey said. “That's not entirely true…” She started. “You see, the thing is…I’m actually a Witch,” She said, pausing to gauge his reaction. Mikey scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “Oh I see, haha!” He said in a raised voice, quickly getting up from his chair. “You think this is a big joke, don’t you?” Lilith was taken aback, unsure how to process what her boyfriend was saying. “No, I’m serious…” She started. “I’m a witch. I don’t work remotely because I am able to use my magic to make sure that we live a comfortable life,” Mikey threw his hands into the air. “What a fucking joke!” He shouted. “I just told you my biggest fucking secret. Something I am extremely embarrassed about, and you come back saying that you're some kind of made up fantasy character?” “I’m not making this up, Mikey,” She said, still standing next to the chair he had been seated in. “God, you’re such a bitch, Lilith!” Mikey shouted. Lilith said nothing. Mikey stared at her waiting for a response, but it didn’t come. Instead, she slowly turned herself around, and made her way towards the kitchen, opening one of the back cabinets and reaching into the back to pull out what looked like some old twig. “Oh great! At least we’ll get to role play your little witch fantasy, even though I just nearly had a panic attack telling you about my deepest desires!” Mikey yelled. Lilith ignored him, and gave the wand a quick flip and a swoosh as she muttered something under her breath. Mikey froze for a second, starting to feel a little tingly. Unsure of what had just happened. The tinglin stopped for a moment, and he prepared himself to call Lilith out on her BS again, when he suddenly felt a breeze on his legs. He looked down, quickly realizing his pants and socks were gone. His stomach sank as the tingly feeling returned, quickly growing and spreading its way through his body in every direction. He glanced up at Lilith for help, only to see her smiling back at him as he looked down in horror only to see his leg hair begin to vanish from the top down. Soon the tingly feeling spread to his arms, his chest, his face, all while he watched the hairs on his body disappear only to finally feel his beard fade into nothing as well. “Lilith!” He tried to call out, only to hear the word “Mommy,” instead. He tried to take a step forward, only to trip over thin air and end up on the floor, where he now felt the familiar comfortable feeling of a soft, Peekabu diaper wrapped around his waist. He looked down to confirm his suspicions, only to see the included black onesie that now covered his body, snuggly holding the diaper to his groin. “Mommy!” He heard himself say again as he tried to call out to his girlfriend. He felt the tears quickly build up in his eyes and couldn’t fight them for long before they began to overflow. He began to loudly weep as he struggled with what was happening to the reality around him. Tears streamed down his face as his nose started to clog with snot as his weeps gradually grew louder and louder. He felt himself start to pee. Flooding the soft, dry diaper that had magically found its way around him as the warm liquid spread around his boy parts. Lilith watched for a few minutes as the magic took its effect. She was beyond ecstatic and could barely hold herself together as she watched her once manly boyfriend break down into tears as he lost what little control he had over his life. It wasn’t until he let out a third call for his Mommy that she finally decided to step in. She stuffed the wand down into her sock as she made her way over to Mikey. “Shhhh,” She started. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy is here,” She cooed as she ran her hand through his hair. Mikey sniffled as he continued to cry, slowly looking up at her. “Was happen’n Mommy?” He said as tears rolled down his face. “Mommy didn’t like your attitude, so she decided you needed an attitude adjustment,” She said, helping him sit up as she wiped the tears from his eyes. “You’re gonna be Mommy’s little boy for a bit, okay? Just like you always wanted!” Mikey reached out for a hug, which Lilith gladly accepted, using the opportunity to lift him off the ground and carry him on her waist. “Maybe if you are a good little boy for Mommy for a week or so, we can give you some control back, okay?” Mikey nodded his head as he sucked some of the snot back in his nose. She carried him into his office, which was really just his man cave. His massive tower PC sat on his desk, back lit by way too many RGB LEDs. “Oh dear, this is all too much for a little baby like you,” Lilith said. Holding Mikey up with one arm, she bent over just enough to grab her wand out of her sock and gave it another quick swoosh through the air. A trail of sparkles lit up the wall as they made their way around the room, instantly transforming everything they touched. The walls turned white, with shiplap paneling on the bottom. Baby blue planes and clouds covered the top half. The desk turned into a fully stocked changing station covered in little cartoon animals. A massive adult sized crib appeared, alongside shelves and chests overflowing with stuffed animals and toys. Everything Lilith would need to take care of her little Mikey. Mikey’s eyes lit up with excitement as he watched the transformation. The little sparkles of light danced around the room effortlessly, completing the magical transformation before returning to the tip of Lilith’s wand, disappearing as quick as they had come. Lilith smiled as she watched Mikey’s face, knowing that this was exactly what he wanted. “Why don’t we have a little more fun while we're at it?” She said with a smirk, giving her already massive breasts a quick tap with her wand before returning it to her sock. Mikey’s mouth opened wide as Lilith’s breasts began to inflate. Quickly outgrowing their usual size and fulfilling his wildest dreams. His eyes stayed locked on her breasts as Lilith smiled down at him. “Milky! Milky!” He shouted. “What's that dear?” Lilith teased. “I want Mommy Milky!” He shouted, now trying to use his hands to pull her shirt down. “Okay, calm down, baby,” She said, gently carrying him over to the newly found rocking chair, and taking a seat. She laid him out across her chest as she pulled her shirt off, letting her two massive breasts plop out. Mikey instantly used his hands to grab a hold of one, guiding it to his mouth as he latched on, almost instantly starting to suckle. He felt the warm, sweet milk hit the tip of his tongue as his mind instantly melted away. Forgetting everything that had happened leading up to this moment. He continued to suckle, pulling in a mouth full of warm milk as he could feel his stomach rumble. “That's it. Drink up, my little prince,” She cooed, running her hands through his hair. Without warning, he felt his bowels open as he pushed a big mound of poo into the back of his diaper, feeling it spread across his soft cheeks as he continued to suckle on his Mommy’s boobs. He could feel the mess spread as more continued to come out, only making him happier with each passing second. It was all more than he could ever have hoped for. His cock now throbbed, pushing against his soiled diaper as he shifted to leverage it against his Mommy. He began to hump. Pushing his hips up against his Mommy as he felt his wet, mushy diaper rub against his sensitive parts. Lilith got up, holding Mikey against her breast as he continued to suck. She carried him over to his changing station and laid him out before pulling her breast away. “Look at you. You’re so cute,” Lilith said, using her thumb to wipe away the excess milk on the sides of his mouth. “Why don’t we get this icky little diappy off of you? Hmmm?” She cooed, moving to unbutton the snaps of his onesie as she exposed his soiled diaper. Mikey let out a soft moan as Lilith untaped his diaper, exposing his rock hard shaft to the brisk air. “My my,” Lilith said. “I think someone is a little excited about all of these new things”. She said, proceeding to wipe him down, cleaning up the icky mess as Mikey’s cock throbbed with each delicate wipe. She slid a fresh diaper under him, before she proceeded to coat his member in baby powder, dumping a rather generous amount on before slowly working her hand towards his shaft. “Does someone want to make cummies?” Lilith teased, running her fingers up his shaft. Mikey violently shook his head as he felt her delicate touch. “Yes!” “Mmmm, I don’t know…” Lilith teased, still slowly running her finger up and down his throbbing cock. “Pwease, Mommy!” Mikey shouted, throwing his hands down softly in a pouting motion. Lilith did hesitate. She quickly wrapped her hands around his little cock as she started to stroke it. Gentle at first, but she gradually gained speed as she watched her new little boy whimper on the table before her. “You're such a cute little baby boy,” She cooed, looking down at him with a smile. “Such a good little boy too”. Mikey whimpered as he felt himself already approaching a climax. Lilith could tell, but it's what she wanted. “That's it baby, make cummies for Mommy,” She said. “Cum for Mommy, sweetie”. Mikey’s cock twitched violently as he shot out several spurts of cum as Lilith continued to stroke. “Good boy!” She cooed, watching his cum pile up on his tummy. “You make Mommy so proud, do you know that?” Mikey was too out of it to respond. Trapped in a world of ecstasy for a moment as his deepest wishes had all come true at once. “On second thought, we should get you a nice warm bath to wash off in,” She said, giving his tummy a quick wipe before lifting his powered butt off the table and setting him on the rug in the center of the room. She opened one of the chests, pulling out a bin of hot wheels and set it in front of him. “You play with these for a bit while Mommy goes and gets a bath started for you,” Lilith said. Mikey instantly dove his hands into the box, dumping the cars everywhere with little care for much else in the world. This was exactly what he wanted. Did you enjoy the story? Want to read the next couple of chapters early without waiting? Check out my Patreon!
  4. All characters are adults. This is a work of fiction, not necessarily set in the real world. Every time your criticize online fetish erotica for being unrealistic, a fairy gets tax audited. The rest of the car ride was quiet, but not in a good way. Every little shift in someone’s seat, every bump on the road, every red light, even driving straight on a smooth road with light traffic—everything reverberated around the minivan’s interior. Anger and shame echoed off the glass. The click of the turn signal was deafening. And whenever another car pulled next to us at an intersection and either one of us made incidental eye contact with other drivers, the emotion in the car would somehow intensify. I would start tearing up again, but I dared not sob or sniffle my nose—that would only make things worse. My runny eyes and runny nose had already dripped down my face and on to my Sesame Street shirt and the straps of my overalls, but that was hardly the worst mess in my outfit. Lower down, my entire bottom was completely soaked; I’d wet my pants in the car. The wetness had dribbled down to my shoes and wicked up to the lower part of my shirt. My car seat was full of my naughty pee-pees, and I could almost feel it slosh around as we wove around traffic. It was cold now. The little toy mirror attached to my seat had somehow gotten pointed down, and a glance displayed a little baby who couldn’t hold on to use the potty like a big boy, and I just felt like crying again. And worst of all, I could already feel my tummy rumbling, and I would need the potty again soon. I’d never had a poopy accident before, but how could I possibly ask mommy for help now? I had hoped she would calm down during the car ride, but one shared glance in the rear-view mirror showed that wasn’t going to happen. Would I have have two accidents today?! Mercifully, we reached the driveway of our house. Unmercifully, mommy did not pull all the way into the garage. Instead, she parked outside, turned off the car, and turned around to face me. “I can’t believe you’ve had another accident! That’s the fourth time this week you went pee-pee in your nice clothes, and I have to get you cleaned up and clean up the mess you made! And all the bedwetting! Big boys use the potty! They don’t have accidents! Only babies do! Are you a baby?” Mommy’s upbraiding got me crying again. In between wails, I tried to say, “I’m sorry mommy!” but nothing intelligible came out. “I’ve had it with you! I don’t know a single other 34 year old who can’t control themselves. I know you’re big enough to hold your potties. So you must just be doing this to make mommy mad! Is that it?” I continued crying. “Well mission accomplished! So now I’m going to march you into the house, in broad daylight in front of all the neighbors so they can see what a little baby my supposed husband is, and you can stand in the naughty corner while I clean up your car seat.” With that, mommy pressed the button to open the sliding car door while she got out and stomped around the front. Reaching the door, she leaned over me and unbuckled my car seat, getting a real good view of how much I’d peed. “I guess you shouldn’t have had all that juice this morning, huh? Now get out.” I gingerly climbed out of the car and on to the pavement. Some of my cold pee-pee dribbled further down my pants, making me shiver. Now march! Double time! I waddled up the driveway, leaving bid wet footprints behind me. The neighbors were indeed getting an eyefull, watching the woman next door push her pathetic husband into the house with wet pants. What a loser! Mommy led me over to the corner of the living room, the naughty corner, to wait in time out. But then my tummy made another rumble, and I remembered that I still had to go poopy. “Mommy wait! I needa go potty!” “Oh no you don’t, mister! You’re not going to wiggle out of corner time that easily! Your ‘potties’ are all over your clothes and car seat, so I know that’s a lie!” “But mommy…” “No buts! If you so much as budge from that corner, you’re going to get the spanking of a lifetime!” And with that, mommy swooped right out of the room back outside to the driveway, leaving me in the corner. Pants full of pee. Shirt covered in tears and boogies. And a tummy full of poo-poo that really needed to come out. And so I started holding again. The wait dragged on as my tummy growled louder and louder, begging for relief. After a while, I could hear the car door close and the remote lock beep, and I could tell mommy was done cleaning and I could leave time out soon! I was gonna make it! But then I heard voices outside. It was Mrs. Whiting next door. She and mommy had stopped to talk! Oh no! I can’t hold on! “Mommy!” I shouted, the strain causing a little bit of poopy to poke out of my tushy. No answer. My strength giving out, my knees started to buckle, and I involuntarily squatted down. With my last little bit of strength, I squeezed as hard as my could for about a second, then a little fart escaped. My exhausted tushy fell limp, and I felt a real big poopy slide out. It felt firm at first as it shoved out of my body, but got squishy as it dropped into the bottom of my underpants and stretched it out. Another fart, then a second poopy came out, softer than the first. The sensations of all that yucky poopie squishing against me, the loud farting, and stink of my accident was all too much, and I started crying again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, snot was oozing from my nose, and more pee-pee flowed into my pants as I started wetting again. I stood there and wailed for what felt like hours. During a break in my sobs, I could feel there was third wave of poopy inside me, blocked by the pile already sitting in my pants. I just wanted it out, so I squatted down some more and pushed. Another small squirt of pee came out, and then a glob of very mushy poop burst out of my… “Oh my god, you are not serious!” During all my crying, I hadn’t noticed mommy had come back in and was standing in the doorway. She saw her crying husband with a fresh puddle around his feet, squatting down and pooping his pants. “Now you’re messing yourself?!” I didn’t answer with any words, just a fresh round of crying. My face was purple now. I lightly stomped my feet, and a small piece of poopie dripped down my leg. Mommy swooped in, grabbed my by the ear, and whisked me upstairs. I wailed all the way into the bathroom. I wailed the whole time mommy swiped off my soggy shoes, my cold socks, my stained shirt, my dripping overalls, and finally, my wet and poopy underpants, slipping down my legs and landing on the floor with a thump. I stood naked in the bathroom, shivering with cold and fear. I knew what was coming. Mommy silently emptied my messy underwear into the toilet and put the rest of my clothes in the special hamper we have for my accident clothes. She also took a wet-wipe from the counter and gave my tush a cursory wipe, confirming the dread punishment I was in for. She turned on the bathtub faucet to let it fill, took the special hairbrush from the counter, lowered the toilet seat cover, sat down, and looked dead at me. “Come here.” “Please mommy, I’ll try harder! I won’t poop my pants again, I promise!” “I said, come here!” Quivering with pathetic fear, I gingerly walked over to mommy, and knelt down over her lap. “Do you know what you did wrong?” “I had a potty accident in my pants.” Tears were coming again. I put my hands behind my back. Without warning, mommy grabbed my two crossed wrists and began spanking. I started bucking and wailing as blows rained down on my reddening cheeks, mommy berating me with every stroke: “BIG! BOYS! DON’T! WET! Their PANTS! They USE! The POTTY! ONLY! BABIES! WET! And POOP! Their PANTS! ONLY! BABIES! CRY! STUPID! CRYING! PISSY! STINKY! BABY!” The room was awash in noise with mommy’s shouting, my crying, and the water faucet’s roar. It wasn’t until I cried so hard that I started choking on my own sobs that mommy finally relented. As suddenly as they began, the blows stopped and I was told to stand up again. Mommy put the brush away and turned the faucet off. She tested the water temperature, and motioned for me to get in. I gingerly lowered myself into the water, wincing as my red tushy touched the water. I sat down and just tried to catch my breath. I felt drained from everything that had happened, and I could only flop around limply while mommy took a bath sponge and started soaping me up. “I’m going to mark two accidents on your potty chart today. Do you know how many days this week you’ve been accident-free?” I shook my head no. “Just once, four days ago. And that’s only because I was being nice.” I remembered that trip to the potty. I had already dribbled a lot by the time I made it to the training potty in the hallway, and my underpants had a silver-dollar-sized wet spot on them. It sure felt like an accident, especially once I was finished and had to pull my cold underpants back up. And then, wet pants and tears three days in a row, finished off with a big poopy mess. “And you’re wetting the bed every night, too! That’s why you’re so tired and cranky during the day.” Mommy’s voice was softening. What did she mean? “I think someone’s not quite ready for big boy pants, hm?” Mommy took the shower spray and got my hair wet, then started massaging in shampoo. “If you can’t use the potty like a big boy, then the only solution is for you to start wearing your diapers again.” Oh no! Not that! Please! I’m not a baby! I’ll be good! I wanted to scream and thrash in the tub, but I was too tired, and all that came out was a moaned, “Noooo…” “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re still too little.” She started spraying the shampoo out of my hair. “If you can’t hold your pee-pees and poopies for the big boy potty, then you’re just going to have to wear diapers for all your accidents.” “No, no, no, no, no…” My moan was now barely a mutter. Everything inside me was gone. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t use the potty… I really was just a baby! Mommy pulled the plug in the bathtub and started toweling me off, even while I softly blubbered. “I think you’re going to need a nap once I get your diaper on.” “Noooo naaaap!” “I’m getting mighty sick of hearing you whine ‘no’ over and over again. Now lets go get your baby pants on, unless you just want to stand here naked all day? You want that? You want to make mommy mad?” Still quietly sobbing, I shuffled over toward my bedroom, if you could call it that. More like a nursery. Mommy wouldn’t let me sleep with her anymore since I kept wetting the bed, and that was usually where Mister Robert slept when he stayed over, so there was no room for me. I slept and took naps in the guest room instead, which mommy had decorated with teddy bear and train decals on the walls, and Sesame Street or Pup Patrol bedsheets, whichever set wasn’t in the washing machine, on the bed (along with an uncomfortable plastic sheet). Toddler toys and stuffed animals were strewn around the floor, and there was still a faint smell of pee-pee in the air from previous nights’ accidents. Once she ushered me into the room and closed the door, she walked over to a mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of milk. Silently, she put in the bottle warmer sitting on top, then strode over to the closet and retrieved an unopened bag of diapers (she’d bought them to threaten me a week ago), a big beach towel, and a small bag I’d never seen before. All with a kind of scary efficiency, she unfurled the towel on the floor and set the diapers and bag down next to it. She turned to me with a cold look. “Lay down.” “Please, mommy…” She looked at her once-husband, still softly sobbing, cheeks wet with tears, a fresh coating of snot bubbling out of my nose and down over my mouth and down my chin, clutching a towel over my shoulders, shivering, my little pee-pee shriveled up even more than usual… A one-time junior law partner reduced to something so… “Pathetic,” she muttered. “I said, lay down.” “But I don’ wanna…” “LAY DOWN FOR YOUR DIAPER OR I SWEAR…” I crept a little closer, and then mommy grabbed my arm and, somehow without throwing me, quickly put me on my back on the makeshift changing pad, almost pinning me. She opened the plastic bag of diapers, pulled one out and started fluffing it, making sure I got a good look at the design. It was decorated with baby circus animals, each wearing its own diaper, and a few with pacifiers, baby bottles, rattles, and other infantile things. Once she was done fluffing, she opened it wide. “Lift your butt, diaper boy.” I never stopped sobbing. I obeyed and lifted my hips slightly, and mommy slid my diaper under me. Reaching into the mysterious bag, she then produced a bottle of baby powder and started sprinkling its snow all over my little pee-pee and tushy, rubbing it in with her other hand. I was embarrassed, but I liked the scent. Finally, she folded my diaper up over me, its cushioned stuffing hugging all my potty parts, and fastened the tapes. The whole time, she muttered, “Can’t use the toilet, can’t use the plastic potty in the hall, can’t hold his piss in the car, and now can’t hold his poop. Baby diapers it is.” The whole time, I just kept crying. “I’ll have to get a changing table for you, so I don’t have to bend over on the floor.” Once I was taped up, she got up and went to my dresser to get a new shirt. I sat up and looked at the puffy, crinkly diaper bulging between my legs. Every time I moved, the plastic crackled like firecrackers. I gingerly reached down to feel the plastic… “NO! You may not remove your diapers! Understand?” She lightly smacked my hand. “Now stand up.” I got up from the towel, trying to adjust my stance for all the padding between my legs. As I steadied myself, a long string of snot dripped down from my nose onto the towel. “Ugh, gross,” mommy said in disgust. She reached down back into the bag and got a pack of baby wipes. She took one and started roughly wiping my face down, removing the tears and snot. “You’re just a mess on both ends, aren’t you? Now arms up.” I complied, and she brought down a clean t-shirt over my head, one that had “BABY” in toy blocks printed on the front, and was just a little short, leaving my diaper on full display. “Now get into bed for your nap. Your bottle should be ready now.” I mournfully shuffled over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. Even after washing, there was still a dingy yellow stain there from repeated wettings, a reminder of why I was in the predicament. As I laid down, mommy came over with a warm bottle… and Jake. Jake was my best friend. He never yelled at me when I had accidents. He never called me stupid or smelly. He was always ready to give me hugs and comfort me. He wasn’t just my best friend, he was my only friend. I was so grateful Jake would stay with me for my nap. I reached out for him and clutched him close. “Now drink this. Maybe then you’ll calm down.” I was reluctant, since I wasn’t thirsty, and I was worried I’d wet the bed again if I drank anything. I shook my head no. “Well if you’re going to nap without your bottle, maybe you can nap without Jake.” I squeezed Jake tighter and moaned. “Then open up.” I opened my mouth a little and mommy slid the nipple in. Without thinking, I started suckling, and the warm milk started squirting out into my mouth, down my throat, and into my tummy. Mommy gently guided my free hand over the bottle and helped me grasp it, then pulled up the sheets. “Now don’t get out of bed until I tell you, and don’t try to take off your diaper. Just drink your bottle, and I’ll do some laundry.” With that, she turned off the lights, left the room, and closed the door. I kept suckling my bottle on autopilot while I looked at my situation. I was back in diapers, and I didn’t know how long until mommy let me try to potty train. I reached down under the blankie and felt the plastic covering my pee-pee. I knew I wouldn’t get the bed all wet, but I was still sad I couldn’t be a big boy anymore. I took the bottle out of my mouth and turned to Jake. “Can I still be a big boy?” I listened to Jake’s answer, then I responded. “I guess so. Mommy knows best.” I kept suckling the warm milk out of the bottle until it was all done. I was so sleepy from all the chaos that’d happened. Just as it was empty, I let the bottle fall from my mouth and hugged Jake tighter. At least I was warm. Warm from the milkies, warm from my blankie, warm from Jakie, and warm in my diapie… Did I just have another accident? I fell asleep before I could answer.
  5. Chapter One The engine of a blue sports car purrs as it races down the street. The day's stress starts to melt as I start driving farther away from work and closer to home. My work is my passion and I love what I do but today marked the beginning of my long overdue vacation. I am a co-owner of a small aviation business called Red Tail Aviation. We own a small fleet of privet jets that are rented by business owners to fly around the country to conduct their business mostly, but also available for privet bookings as well for people who don’t want to fly on big-name carriers. My business is only a few years old but thanks to my wife and her family it has grown by leaps and bounds. Three weeks ago, was the third anniversary of Red Tail Aviation’s doors opening for business and my co-owner Alice, also my wife’s older sister, demanded that I take time off to relax. After a lot of coaxing from Alice, I finally agreed to take time off, to be honest, she tattled to my wife this last Wednesday and when I got home made a very convincing argument to listen to Alice and plan some time for a vacation. So, here I am two days later leaving work early on Friday to head home and start my vacation. I soon turn off the main road and into my neighborhood, after a few more turns my house comes into view. Downshifting, I turn into my driveway, pull in next to my wife’s SUV, set the parking brake, and turn my car off. As I opened my door I put my car in gear, grabbed my portfolio, and hopped out of the car to head into the house. My wife, Jennifer, and I have been married for about five years and have known each other for seven. We are close in age and only a year and a half apart, her being the older one. She is also taller than me by over a foot, standing flat-footed she is an easy six foot. If I stand on my tippy toes, I am almost five feet tall, I am only four feet nine inches tall standing flat on my feet. Height is not on my side. As I make my way to the front door I start to wonder if my wife even went to work today. It was always hard to tell Jen’s schedule due to the secretive nature of her job. Jennifer may have come from a wealthy family but that did not discourage her from taking it easy and just working at her parents’ law firm. Nope, my wife decided to pursue a degree in information technology and has been working with a high-end security company that is contracted by the government. I am not privy to a lot of what she does, but I do know that she seems to make her hours and sometimes works from home. Our home on the other hand was a gift from her family, I tried to argue with her father about it and even tried to tell him I would at least pay for it but was quickly shut down. Our home is a two-story house with four bedrooms and three bathrooms all sitting on a one-acre lot. After seeing the house for the first time I quickly fell in love with the huge two-car garage that would eventually be my fortress of solitude and home to my precious cars and tools. Making my way through the front door I quickly take my shoes off and make my way through the living room and up the stairs to our bedroom so I can change out of my suit. Halfway up I find Jennifer standing at the top of the stairs dressed in jeans and a comfy low-cut T-shirt with a big smile on her face. “I am so glad you are home honey” she purred as I made my way up the stairs into her embarrassing arms. “Ya, it was a short day, mostly due to Alice kicking me out of the office after lunch”, I said as I stood on my tippy toes hugging my wife. Due to our height difference my face generally gets buried in her breast, it took me a while to not blush every time we hugged. After she released me from her embrace she bent down and kissed me. “I take it you stayed home today?” I asked as I was trying to get past her. “I did a little work this morning but nothing that could not be done from home”, she stated as she followed me to our bedroom. “Are you ready to start the weekend?” “To be honest I don’t even know what to do,” I said blandly as I started to strip off my suit and lay it neatly on the bed. “So how long do you and Alice plan on keeping me away from work?” I inquired as moved over to the dresser to fetch my old athletic shorts and slip them over my boxer briefs. With my shorts on I open another drawer and start to rummage through the neatly folded T-shirts. “Um, honey. . . what are you looking for?” she asked as she came over to help me look and stop me from making a mess of my neatly folded shirts. “I am looking for my Batman shirt, I thought I put it in here somewhere,” I told her as I tried to tidy up the little mess I made. Once I put the last shirt back in its place, I look up to see her pointing to the chair that is tucked in the corner behind the door. “Ah, there it is” is stated as I made my way over to snatch the shirt up and pull it over my head, “what would I do without you, babe?” Jen smiles and just shakes her head, “To be honest I am not sure, probably work yourself to the bone.” As I was putting the Batman shirt on, she closed the distance between us again and tussled my well-groomed hair as it popped through the head hole while giving me a peck on the cheek, “You are so adorable”. The kiss made me smile but being called adorable made me shake my head, “I love you too, babe”. With that I made my way over to the closet and grabbed a hanger to put my suit jacket away, the jacket was recently dry-cleaned and was still rather fresh and I could get more wear out of it before I sent it off to the cleaners. Once the suit jacket was on the hanger, I separated the belt from the pants and tossed them in the hamper along with my shirt and dress socks. With everything put away, I feel a small sense of accomplishment, it’s just a few hours in the afternoon and I am in my favorite lounging attire ready to get my forced vacation started. As I head out of the bedroom Jennifer gets up from the same share my shirt sat and follows me with a smile on her face, most likely from me putting away my dirty clothes without being told. Her infectious smile made my lips turn up words and a small chuckle escaped as I went out of the room, down the stairs, and over to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, I make a b-line to the fridge to grab a cold beer, Jennifer on the other hand makes a turn for the bar stool that sat on the opposite side of the island that sat in the middle of the kitchen. With the watchful eyes of my loving wife on my back I open our fridge, to my surprise I only found one bottle of beer sitting on the shelf. I was confused because I could have sworn, I had three beers left, not one. With a quick scan of the fridge, I quickly found the rest of the beer nestled on the very top shelf pushed halfway back, just out of reach without getting a step stool. Jennifer loved putting things outside of my reach, so I had to either find the step stool that she often hid or ask her to help me reach what I wanted. My wife loved to be needed and despite her keeping things on the top shelves out of my reach she always beamed with excitement when she got the chance to get me to come to her and ask for help. Not once did she ever get upset at me when I came to her, one time I could not find my step stool for a week and was constantly asking for assistance. Mainly due to her scolding me for climbing on the counters to grab the Oreos to go with my milk for a late-night snack. That night I did not realize that she was home from work and was just walking out of our home office that is located on the main floor of the house and caught me handed. I grabbed the lonely beer on the bottom shelf, “you are so funny!” I said, rolling my eyes as I shut the door. Gasping in fake shock, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I just figured after a long week you would want a refreshing beverage so I simply placed it at a level my little king could reach out without needing to get your cute little step stool.” Giggling in delight she added, “I also have hidden your step stool, I promise even if you find it you won’t be able to get it.” I just stare blankly into her eyes with a smirk on her face, as I open the bottle of beer simply say, “It’s on the top shelf there in the garage, pushed back with something covering it.” I simply toss the cap in the trash and walk over to the kitchen table over in the corner and sit down facing Jen taking a swig of the amber liquid, “it’s your favorite place to put it”. “As a matter of fact, I did not place it there, and have been hesitant to since I found you climbing the shelves and almost falling to get it,” she simply stated as she got up from her bar stool perch to join me at the table. “For one I did not almost fall . . .” I started to say. “I watched the security camera, yes you did,” she interrupted. “. . . no matter, I will still find it eventually,” I continued. “So how long do you and Alice plan on keeping locked out of my office?” I asked to change the subject. “You are not locked out, but Alice did tell me that she forwarded an email to your normal clientele stating that you will be out of the office for a couple of weeks and to contact her if they need anything,” Jennifer informed. “She also said that you left your laptop and your backpack in your office. I asked her if she could stop by sometime and drop it off so you could at least have that.” “Ya, I left it there because she locked me out of my own office and pointed at the front door and told me to go home. I was lucky to have my. . .” I started to panic as mid-sentence I realized I realized I forgot one important thing, “. . . where is my phone? Shit, I must have left it on my desk at work.” I sat my beer down and started to get up, “I was walking back from the break room after rinsing my mug off from my third cup of coffee. Alice just tossed me my keys and pointed at the door telling me ‘Go home Charlie, relax and be with your wife. I will give you your office key back later after I know you are truly going to stay home a take a vacation.’ So, with only my portfolio that I was carting around and the keys that were just tossed to me I just simply walked out of the office and went home,” I said, verbally retracing my steps. “Your sister can be very intimidating when she wants to, you know. I was not about to argue with her, especially after her going off and getting you involved.” “She is just worried you are working too hard; you have been at it non-stop for the past few years. You need a break.” Jennifer said as she grabbed my arm and pulled me back down in the chair, I was sitting in. “I told you honey; she will bring your stuff over later. She will take care of the office and keep things running while you are out. Also, watch your language Mr.” I sat back down, huffing at the thought of being without my phone, laptop, or anything that connected me to my work and the outside world. “Fine, I will just relax. Can you at least get her to drop off my things tonight?” I ask giving my best puppy dog eyes to Jen. “I promise to behave and take it easy for at least a couple of weeks.” Reaching for her phone, which always seemed to be within arms reach of her, Jennifer started texting her sister. Jenifer: Do you mind stopping by tonight and dropping off Charlie’s stuff he left? Alice: That’s fine, I was planning on it anyway. But I am not giving him his office keys back though, at least not yet. Jenifer: lol, that is fine. I have my spare key anyway just in case, I am not sure he even knows I have it. Alice: Just know, if I see him in the office next week, I am going to duct tape him to a chair and put him in the corner. Jenifer: You are so mean to him. “There, all done, she will be over later tonight as long as you keep your word and stay out of the office,” she informed setting her phone back down. “Honestly, I don’t understand why you two are so keen on me staying away from work, I can relax,” I stated taking another swig of my beer. With a raised eyebrow she simply inquired, “When was the last time you took time off? I mean actual time off that lasted more than a day or so. And don’t say last Saturday because you were eating lunch and answering emails and making phone calls to God knows who.” It was true, most weekends or days that I was not in the office I was always arm’s length away from my phone or laptop. Working in aviation is a busy job, people must go places and do things and to accommodate it takes time to get everything coordinated. I did have a secretary and a small team to help me manage the logistics of day-to-day business, but I was not just the type of person to sit idly by. I was always in contact with the customer, our pilots, the maintenance team, and even our research and development team which consisted of one person that mainly handles our advertisement. “You’re right, it has been a while since I was truly disconnected from work. But you are the same way, you even took over our home office. How is locking me out of my office at all fair?” I said dryly. “Yes, I know I am right” she quipped, “and for your information just last week I was off for three whole days without even stepping foot in the office at work or home, you were too busy working to even notice. I even baked cookies for you that you scarfed down like a ravishing dog.” “Oh, I did not realize,” I said sheepishly, “and those cookies were good by the way.” “I am sure they are, especially when I get a text from Alice telling me you did not eat lunch that day. If I correctly recall the breakfast sandwich, I sent to work with you was only half eaten,” she stated. Quickly trying to recall the events of last week, “What? How do you know that? What day was that even?” “It was Tuesday of last week babe, and I know because I also got a call from your secretary that you were one cup of coffee and three energy drinks down before one o’clock racing out of the office to take care of some business on the other side of the airport. She said that your breakfast was still sitting on your desk half eaten. Shortly after that is when I get the text from Alice,” she said, staring into my eyes with a soft smile. As much as it seemed, it was normal for Jen to keep tabs on me. Even though what she does for work is mostly kept hush-hush, I did know that gathering information is just part of her job and due to her security clearance, she tried to keep her work at work. It still did not keep her from keeping a low-key tab on me. Now to fully understand why she likes keeping a tab on me you must understand the dynamic of our relationship. Jen is very much of a type ‘A’ personality, she is also very dominant. With her line of work, she almost needs to be. As this may deter most men, afraid of being emasculated, it opened a window for me to befriend her and well, marry her. Now that does not mean that I am some loser who drives on being dominated by a woman and can’t think for myself. I was just self-confident and knew who I was, I did not let anyone detour me and my dream and who I wanted to be. Later in college, I learned that my personality was type ‘B’, which was cool to learn because she and I worked well together. Jen and I first met at a college party, my friend dared me to go up to her and talk to her. I accepted my friend’s dare only because she did not seem to be with anyone at the party. She was always around a group of people talking but I had never seen a guy hovering around her, just the opposite, most guys were arm’s length from her. This was good news, I may have been confident in myself, but I knew that my short stature did not help me in a fight, and being a bit tipsy I was in no way wanting to fight someone bigger than me over a girl. I still remember that day vividly, as I walked up to her to introduce myself, I got about halfway through my sentence when I was shoved by the crowd right into her. Due to the height difference my face planted in, you guessed it, her chest. I quickly tried to recover and put space between us to apologize and finish my introduction by telling her my name. I fully expected to get a hand across my face but that never happened, she only came back with, ‘Nice to meet you, Charlie, you might want to be careful, a little guy like you might get trampled on in a place like this’. The whole situation did not help hide my blushing, not even the booze. The only thing my brain could come up with was ‘You may be right, that is why I wanted to make my way through the sea of drunken people to your beautiful smile. I figured if I could befriend you, I could stay safe from all these drunks.’ After a moment to take in the audacity of my statement, all she said was ‘You are cute’ and then took my hand and led me over to a quiet corner of the party. Normally I would balk at the idea of someone calling me cute, but she was too pretty, and I was too tipsy to care. Fast forward a little bit, after that party, we kept in contact with each other and would go on dates often. She would often poke fun and play the role of protector and me the dazzle needing protecting. I did not care much because I knew it was all in good fun, there were times (and still are) when she would let me be the big strong man, despite her still being taller than me. The more I got to know her the more I fell in love, she was more goal-oriented as I was more of a dreamer, and she often kept me focused on my aspirations. After a year of dating, she became very protective of me in a soft caring way, I did not mind this at all as I loved having someone in my corner. I do my best to reciprocate the efforts to care for her as much as I can. And of course, after about two years of dating she and I got married and moved in together, of course not before getting permission from both her father and her mother, which is a story for another time. So, as I was saying, the dynamic of our relationship is a unique one, and her memory is also as sharp as an elephant. As for me, my head is mostly in the clouds, not saying I am forgetful, but I often get distracted. You would not believe how many times I almost lost my phone only to have Jen pick it up after me and hand it back once I realized and slightly freaked out that I left my phone somewhere that I should not have. Her protective and caring disposition towards me led to her having a mothering demeanor over me. As carefree as I was, I did not mind as much as she kept me grounded and on track, and I did just the opposite for her. I was the one that she was able to count on to lift her spirits and not forget to smile and have fun. And I know what you are thinking, how does a carefree dreamer find myself in a predicament of being forced to take a vacation? Well, I may be whimsical but that did not deter my drive, especially with Jen by my side. My work may be stressful, but it is my passion, and it is still fun. They say if you do what you love you never work a day in your life. With that, I soon realized that if Jen knew of my lack of eating that day and overindulgence of caffeine why I was not in trouble. With regret in my eyes, I spoke, “You uh, found out about that did you?” I quickly took another sip of my drink trying to hide the shame and guilt of not following the rules Jen placed down for me. Seeing the deer caught in the headlights look so quickly and responded, “Yup. There are a few times I can raddle off you forgetting to eat and not drinking your water only to be zooming around the office driven off your intake of caffeine.” Yup, rules were set by Jen herself and agreed on by us both to help keep me safe, on track and cared for. I won’t bother you with the full list, but it does include me drinking plenty of water, no caffeine after lunch, eating at least two solid meals a day (preferably three), getting at least 6 hours of sleep, asking for help if I need it, and of course no climbing on the counters. That day in particular last week I broke all those rules, that night I only got about 4 hours of sleep due to me staying up working from my laptop while I was in bed which made me crave a late-night snack. That following morning, I also had to get up early for work due to a conference I had to attend across the country. Lucky for me I only had to attend virtually. I thought that I would get off scot-free, but apparently, I didn’t. All I could do was sit there speechless, gulping at what punishment I may have. Yeah, Jen believed that our actions had consequences. She was correct metaphorically, but that did not deter her from having punishments lined up for me when I was naughty. I try to accuse her of being naughty on occasion, but she is quick to come back with the rules that are designed for me and keep me healthy and safe. I have only caught her being naughty a few times, mostly due to me not paying attention or trying to hide my misdeeds. The rule of thumb is that the punishment should fit the crime. The one time I caught her not eating all day, and just like she did to me I was able to punish her just like she would me. Unfortunately, I did not realize that her texting and/or calling me every time she ate was just as much of a burden on the other end of the spectrum, well for me that was. When it’s me who must do it due to me not eating enough (which is about once or twice a month) I send the bare minimum text telling her that I ate. Her on the other hand blew my phone up on when she ate, what she ate, and how much she ate. She eats more than I do, you could not tell by just looking at her but as my father would say, she was built like a brick shit house. After about three days of keeping her accountable for her diet, my phone was able to be free of messages about food. Don’t get me wrong, I love talking about my wife, but I am not as much of a foodie as most people are. I eat what I feel I need to survive and that’s it, after forgetting to eat a proper meal for three days in a row was when Jen sat me down and discussed the food rules. “Why did you wait so long to bring up that day, am I in trouble”, I ask nervously somewhat afraid of the punishment of breaking multiple rules due to the predicament Jen caught me in the night before last Tuesday. Jen was not against harsher punishments like time out, grounding me (mostly from my step stool), or even the occasional spanking. Of course, all punishments were agreed upon by both of us, she wanted to make sure that I was on board with it all as much as possible. She did love me dearly and always assured me that she loved me and only wanted the best for me. “No, you’re not in trouble, well not the way that you are thinking at least” she informed. “I have been seeing you work so hard that it has started to affect your well-being. Have you noticed I am constantly making sure you are eating? I have also noticed that you don’t sleep well, that is also mostly due to you drinking too much coffee and energy drinks.” “What? How can you tell that I am drinking too much coffee,” I asked. “Really? Do you need to ask that? Who is the one that takes your diaper off every morning before you hop in the shower?” I look down blushing crimson only to whisper, “You do.” “What was that, I don’t think I heard you,” she chided. I look up at her, still red with embarrassment, and repeat my answer “You do.” This was always the subject of embarrassment for me. Even when we started dating, I had a bedwetting issue. She never judged me about it, but that did not change the fact that I eventually had to tell her that was the reason I had a waterproof sheet on my bed and a small pack of cheap store-bought pull-ups in my closet. She also soon figured out that I would purposefully dehydrate myself to help keep myself from wetting the bed. That was good and all till she made me go to the doctor for my headache and constant fatigue. This was also around the time she started to fuss over my well-being and started mothering me. At first, it was just a small set of unspoken rules she wanted me to follow, drink plenty of water, make sure you eat, and get plenty of rest. The only problem was that the more hydrated I was the more I wet the bed. She was quick to console me and help me work through my issues. One night we sat and talked about it, I told her that I always had an issue with bedwetting. I have been to the doctor with little to no help, they always just said that I will grow out of it just give it time. Well, I did not grow out of it and barely grew taller than my mother, I eventually just came to terms with it and did my best to manage on my own. Jen hated seeing me hurt, that night was the first time she had seen me shed a tear. To this day I am not sure if it was a tear of hurt, embarrassment, sorrow, or anger. Jen just being herself offered solutions and took charge of my bedwetting. The main reason that I listened to her was because she did not judge me, not once, and she told me that if I wanted to sleep in the same bed as her I would let her help. Soon all my sheets were replaced as well as my mattress. Jen also insisted that my protection gets upgraded as well, my pull-ups quickly turned into full-fledged diapers. As time progressed, we found a new way to bond and connect. Before bedtime, she would always insist on putting the diapers on me, and when I woke up, she was always there to praise me for keeping the bed dry and using my diapers. She took great pride in overseeing our nightly routine, even after sex she would not skip a beat, she would help clean me up and make sure I was snug in a diaper before we cuddled up and fell asleep. Over the years she eventually introduced me to printed diapers, she kept saying they are more absorbent and better quality. I was hesitant at first but just like before she coaxed me into trying them. After a while all my diapers in the closet were cute, printed diapers that she picked out. I eventually was unfazed by it and just enjoyed the care she brought every night making sure I was comfortable. There were some nights that I had to put my diaper on but most of the time it was her. Knowing that I was the one who put myself to bed Monday last week, including putting on my diaper. Most of the time I try to sleep as naked as I can, so basically just wear my diaper to bed. But because I was still typing away on my laptop, I was sitting in bed in just a t-shirt and diaper. And you guessed it, I was wearing just that when I thought it was a good idea to sneak downstairs to get a snack. I still can see the smirk on my wife’s face as she caught her husband clad in just a t-shirt and diaper with a bear and rainbow polka dots all over it kneeling on the counter and reaching for the Oreos that were hiding on the top shelf. What can I say, Oreos make the best late-night snack, especially paired with a glass of milk. Jen accepted my answer as her the warden of my diapers, “That’s right, I am, and all too often I have noticed that your diapers are not as wet as they usually are, and your urine is starting to be darker than it should be.” All I could do was just sit there and tell her “Sorry.” “Baby, I love you and I want the best for you,” she said with endearment. Her calling me baby always made me blush; I knew she meant well though. As of late that has turned into her favorite word of endearment for me. Even in public liked to call me that, most people did not even pay her any mind. It still did not the fact it made me blush, maybe it was because she was the one who insisted on diapering me. Jennifer continued, “I have just been noticing that you are starting to not take care of yourself as well as you should. You are working late hours, and not eating well, and I have even started to see your sleep is starting to suffer. You need a break, honey.” Looking back, she was right, I have been so wrapped up in work that I did not notice how it affected me. “I guess you’re right” I stated. “Charlie, it’s not about being right. I just want you to take a step back and just relax. Learn to lean on Alice and the team you have built,” she said with a caring smile. ************************************************************************************************************************ Chapter Two I continued to nurse my beer as Jen continued to talk. I knew she meant well and only cared for my health and happiness. As her caring words reached my ears, I remembered the time she shared a secret of hers with me. It was around the same time she found out that I was still a bed-wetter. In my vulnerable state, she told me that she had an insecurity herself, she confided in me that she was infertile and could not bear any children. She continued to tell me that every man that she dated who was able to look past her intimidating stature and see her true beauty seemed to end shortly after she told them that secret. They all were worried about passing on their family name and seemed to forget about the love and care they had for each other. The moment she told me her secret made me fall even more in love with her. This woman endured such cruel heartbreak and yet still be so caring. Once she realized that her secret did not end our relationship, she poured even more love into the bond that seemed to grow by the day. I could not get enough of her, the way she cared about me only fueled me to be the best I could be for her, even if that meant letting her diaper me before I went to bed. As our relationship grew so did our knowledge of each other. Around the time she introduced me to the more playful and cute printed diapers was the time she brought up the subjects of Caregiver/little and Adult Baby Diaper Lover. With me being a bedwetter you would think that I would have known about these subjects but due to my embarrassment and stubbornness in the subject, I didn’t. It took her a few days to get my head wrapped around the depth of the subjects. I soon learned that she was very much a caregiver, a Mommy if you will. She did convince me to go to a couple of munches in the kink world to show me that I was not alone in my struggles and there was a community that was accepting. Eventually, both of us got so busy with each other and our work that we ventured away from the kink scene. Regardless she was there for me most nights until she and I moved in together, then she was there every night to take care of all my little needs at night. A year into living together in our new home as a married couple, we lay in bed together cuddling. Somehow, I was always the little spoon or the one being held which ended up with me being smothered by her breasts. This night was no different, she was laying on her back with me laying my head on her shoulder and her arm around me and mine around her waist. If my memory serves me correctly it was the first night after she started her new job and the company, she works for now. As she held me, she asked, ‘Do you like when I diaper you and baby you at nighttime?’ Without thinking there was only one response that came to mind, ‘of course I do, why would I?’ Laying on her shoulder with my arm wrapped around her I felt her take a breath and continue, ‘What you say if I told you I wanted to do more of it outside of bedtime?’ My eyes open and I turn my head to look at her the best I can, ‘what do you mean? You want to diaper me in a diaper during the day?’ Cool as a cucumber she went on to elaborate on her initial question, ‘Not just diaper you, I want us to grow our relationship into a Caregiver/little role.’ I settled my head back in the position that it was in. ‘So, want to be my Mommy,’ I said tiredly. After a little chuckle she responded with ‘Yes, I want to be your Mommy. But most importantly I want you to be my little boy.’ There was more to what she said but I could not remember it due to me falling asleep. That morning I could not tell if she was mad or amused that I fell asleep in mid-conversation. She reminded me of her question as I lay on the edge of the bed and her standing over me as she started to remove my wet diaper. That morning as we both got ready for the day, we continued the conversation with me eventually fully aware of her intentions. To my surprise, I agreed to it if she let me take it slow at my own pace and not jump right into the whole thing. I told her that I did not want it to conflict with either of our careers. After that, she seemed to be glowing for about a week. That was also the birth of my official set of rules. To my surprise she has them, to this day, printed and signed by both of us and posted on the fridge. It’s only been a few years since that initial conversation, and we have not mentioned much of it since except for a time here or there. Outside of the agreed-upon list of rules and punishment she eventually started to coddle me more, for example: cutting up my food for me, talking to me as you would a child, putting things out of my reach, and making me ask her for help. Just this last year I noticed when we are out and about, she makes me hold her hand. Most would see this as a sign of endearment, I did too until she told me that she did not want me to get lost and wander off and proceeded to not let me out of arms reach of her. She also tends to ask me if I need to go potty at the most embarrassing times, which for me is every time. Outside of the embarrassing childish care she loves to smother me with, she still allows me to be an adult and has never gotten in the way of my career. She has been just the opposite; I am not sure I could do what I do without her there supporting me. Until now all this was not really in the forefront of my brain until I heard her say these next words, breaking up my reminiscence of the past and crashing back into the present. “I want to take our Mommy Dom and little boy dynamic to the next level. You’re not going to like it but before I say any more, I want you to promise to hear me out,” she said as she looked longingly into my eyes. She seemed to hold her breath for a moment before I started to speak. I will tell you though, I had a feeling about where she was going with this and she was right, I don’t like it. Reluctantly with a worrisome look told her, “I promise to listen, though I cannot say anything about my reaction. But yes, I will hear you out.” With a sigh of relief, she almost a giddy smile she reviled the next level, “I want you to start wearing diapers during the daytime.” I sat there dumbfounded; it was exactly what I thought she was going to say. It did not matter what thought I was still too shocked to say anything. Instead of saying anything I just tipped my beer up and drank the last of my liquid courage. “You don’t have to say anything just yet just listen,” she said, waiting for a small nod from me to signal her to continue. “There is not a day that you don’t wake up in a wet diaper, I know that is not much but from where we started you do not shy away from getting ready for bed anymore. And remember just last month. . .” It took a second, but I did recall the events that happened just one month ago. “. . . you wore a diaper for a whole weekend. From the time I got you ready for bedtime Friday till the time you got up Monday morning to get ready for work,” she said. With only a slight pause she continued, “You did wonderful that weekend, you were such a good boy for me. You did not cry or pout once during your diaper changes. I want more of that, and when Alice talked about making you take a vacation it all just clicked. We can use this time to get you adjusted.” She recalled last month’s event correctly; I did let her keep me in diapers for a whole weekend. “But. . .” I started to speak my thoughts were hindering my words to form a sentence. Last month was just a relaxing weekend at home, she just wanted to try something new. It took two weeks of her hounding me just give it a try; she said it will be like a trial run. I did not imagine she wanted to do it so soon. And true to her earlier words I could not fully leave work at work. It only took till lunchtime Saturday to have her confiscate my laptop due to me working on a day that I was supposed to be about us. Shortly after that, she took my phone away till after she gave me my bath on Sunday, and that was still short-lived due to my bedtime being moved up two hours than normal. I suddenly had a million questions I wanted to ask, “what about work? Will it be 24/7 or just on the weekends? What if we go somewhere? What about your work? Right now, you have the rule that only you get to change my diaper, will I get to change myself? Oh God, what if I got to . . . you know?” “Slow down honey, take a breath,” she said as she reached for my hand to hold. “Ideally yes, I want you diapered every day. I would still oversee your diaper changes; little boys should not have to worry about such things. I can adjust my schedule more often and would be able to be home with you most of the time. And to answer your last question, yes, the big boy potty would be totally off-limits this time.” To be honest, I knew this day was going to come, I just wish it was not now. Diapers were a constant reminder of my bedwetting issue growing up and how hard it was. For Jen, my diapers were a sign of endearment. The moment I gave her control of my diapers was an ultimate sign of trust, she knew how much I detested the need I had for them at night. She promised me that she would help me overcome that. For the most part, she has, they still made me blush but for as long as she was by my side, I no longer felt like they were a burden, they were just a part of who I was. Taking this next step was the final relinquishment of the hate I had of my past. Luckily, I trusted her to help me take this step. Plus, I knew she loved to baby me, she did it as much as she could without scaring me off. But she still did not answer all my questions, “That makes sense and all, but I still had a question when it came to work.” Just then the doorbell rang and without hesitation, Jennifer started to stand and say, “Hold on babe, let me see who this is.” She made it through the kitchen halfway across the living room before the doorbell rang again and a familiar voice called out. “Jen it’s me, Alice.” As the door opened my colleague stood in the doorway holding my phone in her hands and my backpack hanging from her right shoulder. She peeked around her sister finding me leaning against the wall of the threshold between the living room and kitchen only to tell me, “I got your stuff squirt.” Looking a bit perplexed Jennifer looked at her phone to see what time it was. “It’s only half past three, how on earth did you get here so fast? I only texted you what, fifteen minutes ago,” she said surprised. Alice simply smiled and said, “To be honest I was out the door shortly after Charlie left. It is a slow weekend, and all the planes are on the ground here at home, the next flight out is not till Tuesday evening. I knew that once Charlie realized he left his stuff he would be out the door as fast as you would let him to come and get his things.” I was halfway between where I was leaning on the wall and the front door before Jen moved aside, inviting Alice inside. As she moved through the archway, she set my bag on the small bench next to the door and mindlessly stepped out of her flats leaving them with the rest of the shoes by the door. As Alice handed me the phone Jen shut the door and turned to face both of us. With Alice just as tall as her sister I looked up and politely said “Thank you.” Alice and Jen may be about the same height and have long hair but that is where their looks differed. Alice had blond hair that she often wore in big curls, she also resembled her father’s features. Jen had brunette hair that was strait and worn in a ponytail, single braid, or down. Unlike Alice, Jen resembled her mother. Both women were strong, but Alice had nothing but Jen’s solid physique. I should be used to it by now, but it never fails, I felt dwarfed when I was in the presence of both at the same time. I stood there for one solid before I turned myself 180 degrees and went back to the kitchen. I took one step toward the kitchen, and I felt my phone get snagged from my hand and over my head. “Oh no you don’t, remember you are on vacation,” Jennifer announces as she watches me head into the kitchen. “That did not take long,” the tall blond comments. “By the way, did you. . .” “We are in the middle of the conversation now,” Jennifer said interrupting her sister. “. . . and?” Alice inquires. I did my best to ignore my wife and sister-in-law’s whispering. I wanted to drag a chair over to the fridge and get another beer, but to my better judgment, I didn’t. Instead of risking punishment, I decided to just sit back down, pull my knees up to my chest, and wait for Alice to leave and Jen to come back and finish our conversation. To my surprise Jen came back sooner than I thought she would, normally she and her sister gabbed for hours some time. Also, to my surprise, it was not just Jen that came back to the kitchen. I turned my head to see Alice strolling behind her sister and into the kitchen. Jen made her way back to where she was sitting, Alice on the other hand made a pit-stop at the fridge to grab the last two beers sitting on the top shelf. With the two beers in one hand, Alice shuts the door of the fridge, opens the drawer just next to it, and pulls out a bottle opener. With quick work, the bottle tops found their way into the trash and the bottle opener went back into the drawer and closed with a quick bump of Alice’s hip. “Why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy,” she stated making her way to the table. With Jen to my right, I turned to my left to find Alice pulling the chair to my left out and plopped down making herself comfortable. I watched her slide me one of the two beers, I generously took it and told her “Thanks, and I am just anxious,” as I raised my drink and took a swig. With the biggest grin on her face, she could not help but ask, “Anxious? You are only a few hours into your vacation, what on earth are you worried about? Did you get in trouble with your mommy already?” “Hey,” was all Jennifer could get out before I whipped my head around to scowl at her. “You didn’t,” I said almost yelling. “How much does she know?” “Before you get upset at her” Alice started as I turned my head back around to her. “I have known for a long time; your wife and I are sisters. There is very little that we keep from each other. And why else do you think I always kept your wife informed on your misdeeds.” “For one you because you are a tattletale. . .” I retorted. “Spoken like a true child” Alice spats quickly. “Second I thought I could have a little bit of privacy about what goes on in my house,” I stated matter-of-factly. Alice raised her hand in surrender, “I may know your little ‘secret’, but I am not the one who talked about it at the dinner table.” With that said my face went flush, I dropped my feet down and slowly turned to look at Jen. With a shaky voice, I asked, “Dinner table? What dinner table.” “The cats out the bag now might as well spill the beans,” Alice quips behind me. All Jennifer could do was close her eyes as she took a deep breath in. As she breathes out, she opens her eyes and starts to explain the situation, “Yes, my family knows. They have known for a long time.” “Long time? Like since we got married a long time ago?” I inquired. “Like since I told you about my infertility,” she said quickly answering my question. “I was vulnerable and thought that you were going to be just like any other man I dated. I had only told my mother, who quickly told my father.” She said nervously continuing her explanation carefully watching the expressions on my face change from upset back to anxious and worried. “But you are not like any of the other men, you stayed and cared for me like no one ever did.” “Cared for you,” Alice snickered. “You are the one changing the rugrat's diapers.” “Shut it, Alice, you are not helping” Jenefer snapped back. She quickly glanced back at me and continued explaining, “Charlie, I love you. I did not mean to betray your trust. Everyone is so supportive and on board. They think what we have is amazing.” “Hold on,” I say quickly before Jen could continue. “So, you’re saying that when I went to your parents for your hand in marriage, they knew? “Yes,” both women said in unison. I quickly glance at Alice inquisitively. “What? I told you I was not the one who couldn’t keep their mouth shut at the dinner table. That was all Mom and Dad,” Alice informed me. I look back at Jen to continue my clarification of the whole ordeal, “When you say they are supportive, you mean in just our marriage right?” “They are supportive of the whole kit and caboodle,” Alice blurts out taking a drink of her beer. “Alice please” Jennifer pleads, “you are not helping.” “Of course, I am” Alice responds, “you got to rip this off like a band-aid over your little one’s booboo.” I followed suit and took a drink of my beer as well and looked at Alice, waiting for her to rip my band-aid off my booboo. Alice smiles at her sister and continues, “As I said, Jen told Mom, Mom, to Dad. Once Jen knew you were the one and not going to leave her, Mom pipes up during dinner questioning everything. The three of them discussed not just your bedwetting, but your sex life. That dinner was when I found out if you were wondering. To make a long story short, we all know every and keep informed. I am mostly informed because you and I work together, and my wife likes keeping tabs on you. My mom is always asking about you two and dad is just there to listen to Mom as she spreads the gossip at the dinner table.” “Everything?” I simply ask, staring blankly at her taking another sip of beer. “Yes, everything” Alice states, “and the reason I am here drinking a beer with you is so I can hear the juicy details first on if I will get my little nephew or not.” “Nephew?” I asked, looking confused. “Yes, nephew” she repeated before looking over to Jen. “What on earth did you do to him, Jen? You do still know I need him at work, right?” “I did not do anything to him, this is a lot to take in” my wife retorts. “Either that or his brain is fried worse than I thought, I knew I should have locked him out of his office sooner,” Alice states before looking back at me. “Let’s take this slow, yah? You are baby, correct?” Just as my face got its color back from the shock of figuring out my in-laws knew everything about me, my face turned bright red. I respond with a weak “yes.” “Good, I did not lose you yet!” Alice beams with joy, “If you are baby, that makes Jen Mommy.” After a longer pause than necessary, I realized that she was waiting for me to respond to make sure she did not confuse me. Half annoyed I responded with another “Yes.” “Calm down there Mr.” Alice teased, “we are getting there. If you are baby, Jen is Mommy, that makes me Aunty.” I just stared at her blankly, and just before I started to look back at Jen, Alice continued. “And we all want to know, is our little man finally going back into diapers?” Alice finishes, repeating the question that seemed to start all this. I took a deep breath and started speaking in a calm clear voice, “As surprised and upset as I am to know that so many people know about my. . . well. . . everything. There is no reason to say no.” At that moment I decided to look back at my loving wife who I noticed was holding my hand. “So, you are saying yes to letting me put back in diapers?” Jennifer asked carefully. With a shaky smile, I gave her a reassuring “yes, but I have some requests to bring to the table first before we set this in stone.” “Of course, sweety,” Jen said beaming with excitement. “As Alice has stated, I am still needed at our company. I am a little worried, but I trust that you have a plan to make sure this does not interfere with my job,” I stated. With a smile, she simply said, “Of course, I have already figured that all out. I would never come between you and your aspirations. Any other request darling?” “My cars, I still get to drive my cars and work on them when I want,” I stated as I started to ramble off more demands since I had a feeling, I knew where all this was heading. “Also, a later bedtime, the ability to drink alcohol, I want to change my diapers at work, and I want to be able to use the potty for number two’s.” A short silence grew as I saw my wife’s smile grow. “I see, is that all?” she questioned. Confident in my answer I told her “Yes.” “Good, now that I heard your request here is my rebuttal.” She said smiling “As I stated before, I will not come between your work. As far as working on your cars is concerned, I will allow you to continue playing with your cars as long as you do not break any of the other rules we have agreed upon. Your bedtime is not up for debate, nice try but I reserve the right to say when your bedtime is. Drinking any kind of alcohol will be a case-by-case scenario, your diet and water intake is still a rule that is already agreed upon and is nonnegotiable. As far as the last request is concerned it is a hard no, once you are put in diapers I am in charge, you do not change them or even think about using the big boy potty. You will be considered for all intents and purposes not potty trained.” Jen simply sat there and made sure I understood everything she said. “Do you agree on these terms, or do you have a rebuttal yourself?” I furrowed my brow thinking, was there anything I was missing? I knew I was not going to get most of that, but it never hurts to ask. I mean she did not say no to booze, and I still had my cars. As far as trying to get permission to change my diaper and use the potty for number two, that was a long shot. She has not let me even touch my diapers since she took over without her consent, which is currently only when she is not physically home to do it herself. I was curious about how this was going to change our dynamic. “Who is going to change my diaper if I am to be wearing them at work?” I asked. “That my dear baby boy will fall to the volunteered responsibility of your Aunty Alce,” She answered. “Oh, and I forgot to mention one last thing, I would like you to start making more of an effort to call me Mommy when we are behind closed doors.” “Make an effort?” Alice questioned. She gained the attention of both Jen and me as she continued, “You are going a little too soft sis, he will call you mommy behind closed doors. You better make sure you do not let his manners slip, you know how Mom and Dad are. I almost expect Mom to demand to be called Grammy.” “Yes, you are probably right” Jen agreed. She gently guided my face with her hand back to face her and she looked me into my eyes, “Do you agree with these terms?” Unable to look away, I swallowed my fear, put faith in my wife, and simply said “Yes.” Of course, as I spoke those words I heard Alice chime in, “Yes what?” My eyebrows raised in concern that I was once again in trouble and I repeated what I said only to make sure I added the missing words my sister-in-law demanded I say, “Yes Mommy, I agree.” ************************************************************************************************************************ Chapter Three After I agreed to take the next step with Momma Jen to the next level of our relationship, I tried not to think so hard and regret the decision I made. Don’t get me wrong, it was something that I agreed to do years ago, it just scared me that this was going to be a big change. But to my surprise, it was as if Jen knew exactly what I was thinking. As Jennifer let her hand drop from my face, she continued to console the worries she must have seen in my eyes. “Just breathe baby, I know I told you I would take it slow, but this is the biggest change that you will have. Everything else after this is easy-peasy.” Alice also wanted to console me, and with a gentle nudge to get my attention she said, “I am proud of you squirt, cheers,” she said raising her bottle of beer. I turn to face her, raising my beer to mimic her, “cheers.” We both raise our beer to our lips and tip them up. To my surprise, I felt her free hand helping me support my bottle upside down as I continued to drink it till it was all gone. As I finished was able to set the now-empty bottle down. Alice also finished her beer sitting her empty bottle down just before I did. “Now that those are empty, I think it is a good time to get a certain someone in the correct attire,” Jennifer simply states as she stands up and moves closer to me. As she sees me set my beer down, she simply puts her hands under my armpits and lifts me to carry me. Startled by the sudden change in altitude I cling to her for what seemed dear life. “Shh, calm down a little,” she said trying to console me. Confused and startled at the same time, I simply ask “Wait, um, what happening?” I may be a little more than a foot shorter but due to my diet, or lack thereof, I am also only about 110 pounds soaking wet. With the combination of my size and Jen’s strength I was easily carried anywhere Jen wanted me to. She loved holding me and carting me around, on the other hand, I was not fond of it. I loved being close to her, but I was always afraid I was going to fall, but let it know I was never dropped. But every time Jen picked me up, she was always on a mission, and this time was no different. As I cling to her like a baby koala, I face the opposite direction she is going. Looking over Jen's right shoulder I see Alice get up and follow us, threw the kitchen, into the living room, and up the stairs. Once I realized where we were going, I squeaked in fear and hid my face in the nook of Jen's neck. “Aww, I think someone is scared” Alice states. As soon as I heard her call me out, I was just as quick to rebuttal a shaky “am not.” Even if I tried to sound brake, I still did not raise my head from Jen’s neck. “Shh, we are almost to the top baby,” Jennifer said trying to console me. “Alice don’t tease him.” “I wasn’t, I was simply stating an observation I have never seen before. I see your big strong Charlie fly in our jets with no fear but being carried up a flight of steps in your arms makes him hide in fear.” Alice states. “I will not let him live this down.” Before I knew it, we were already up the stairs and halfway down the hall about to turn into our bedroom before I looked back up. “Alice if that is what you tease me on after what all has been said, I think I will be ok,” I simply say still holding on to Jen for dear life. “You may be my sister’s little, but that does not mean I am going to be mean to you,” she says reassuringly. “I am the one that gets to change your little butt at work after all.” With that statement, I was reminded of what mission Jen was set on. I was on my way to get put in a fresh diaper, one of many to come. Normally I would not fuss over a trivial task, she has been helping me with my diapers for the past, how many years? Six going on seven years now. No today was different because as Jen walked us into the bedroom Alice was there too. I half expected to be put down, but I was, yet again, wrong. Jen held me tight standing in the middle of our giant bedroom just gently bouncing me up in down as if I were an upset baby. I guess she was anticipating what was to come because I was about to be upset at the words she said. “Alice, will you close the door behind you? And the diapers, wipes, and baby powder are all in the closet.” Jennifer said, instructing her sister on what to do. With wide eyes I watched Alice do just as instructed, I tried to wiggle free but all that happened was me grunting against Jen’s tight hold. I also felt a firm swat to my bare thy just below my shorts. It did not hurt but it still surprised me and made me squeak in fear. To be honest I was not sure what I was afraid of, Jen spanking me or Alice watching Jen put me in a diaper. “You just change him on your bed, right?” Alice questioned. “Yeah, but I do have a changing matt that I have him lay on. It’s at the foot of the bed sitting on the trunk,” Jennifer responds. “And you are sure that you're ready to change his diaper?” Yup, there it is. My reason for being afraid, Jen just asked Alice if she was ready to change my diaper. Slightly freaking out I started to protest, “Jen please, don’t. Please, Jen.” As if my words did not reach, she continued what she was doing paying me no mind. And my evening was going to get worse before it got better. I felt Jen start to shift me around in her arms. “Here, take him,” Jen said to Alice. “He is definitely fussy,” Alice says as she moves in and starts to take me from Jennifer. Like I said before, Jen was stronger than Alice but compared to me I still was just an oversized baby to them. That is kind of funny given the circumstances I am in. In what seemed like the passing of the torch I was now somehow in Alice’s arms holding on for dear life. I still was freaking out, my body was shaking and all I could do was just call out for my wife, “Jennifer please, I am sorry, Jennifer I don’t want to do this. . .” My pleas were soon met with gentle bouncing and Alice rubbing my back. “Hush sugar, shh” Alice cooed as she tried to settle me down. Jennifer took the time to walk behind Alice as she bounced me up and down like the fussy infant I was starting to act like. She makes eye contact with me and simply states, “Charlie, you need to hush. You are overreacting.” I am not sure if I stopped fussing because I was able to see her, the calmness in her voice, or because she could get rather scared when she talked in a calm voice. I have seen her a few times when we went out on dates, completely defusing a situation forcibly all while talking in a calm smooth voice. I was sure this was not the same situation, but it still made me quiet down and listen. “Good boy, and what is my name?” she asked. “Jen. . .” as I uttered the name, I have called her so many times before, I saw her beautifully sculpted eyebrows raise as she gave me a look as if she was asking me if was sure of my answer. I quickly realized what she was wanting and meekly muttered “Mommy.” “That’s right, I am Mommy,” Jennifer said, praising me as if saying her name for the first time. “Now is it acceptable behavior to throw a tantrum, demanding my attention?” I was slightly confused with the way she was talking to me; I knew I upset her, but she did not treat me like any other guy she got mad at. She was simply talking to me if I was exactly what she wanted me to be, her little. With her eye not breaking contact in what seemed like a war of wills, I lowered my gaze and simply answered the question she expected me to answer, “No” I stated meekly. Again, she raised her eyebrows and firmly said, “No what?” “No Ma’am,” I said quickly without hesitation, not sure if that was the answer she was looking for. After a brief pause, her stern look softened into a smile. She gently said, “That my good boy. I know you are upset, scared, and nervous about this whole situation but we are going to get threw it together. Now I want you to take a deep breath for me and think. Why are you all fussy?” I did as instructed I took a deep breath and relaxed. Alice did stop bouncing but still seemed to rock me side to side. “I am scared. . .” hiccup “of Alice seeing me naked.” hiccup, where on earth did my hiccups come from? After the second one, I felt Alice, hiccup, and chuckle at my predicament. Jennifer repeated what I said in a more nonchalant format like a parent would a child, “That’s what you’re scared of? Just of Alice changing your diaper?” I thought I got my hiccups under control, but I did not want to open my mouth afraid I might hiccup again. All I could do was nod in agreement with Mommy. With a clear understanding of why I was upset, and fussy Jennifer confidently walked me through her train of thought, “Not too long ago you and I made an agreement that ultimately put you back in diapers, correct?” “Yes ma’am,” I said a little more confidently than before. “And are you allowed to change your diaper?” she asked, hoping I would remember one of the new rules. With only a little hesitation I shook my head, “No Mommy.” A smile formed on Jennifer's face as she heard me say Mommy unprompted. “Such a smart baby,” she cooed, “now if my baby is not able to change his diapers and you are at work, who did I tell you was going to help you take care of them.” I was still not pleased with what I was about to say but I knew it was the correct answer. Almost forgetting my manners, I make a slight pause before I say, “Aunty Alice.” As I expected I was right and was rewarded with Jen’s enthusiasm. With a smile, Jen continued, “If my baby is at work needing his diaper changed wouldn’t you want to be comfortable and confident in Aunty Alice?” “Yes Mommy,” I said, still unable to meet her gaze. “Smart answer baby,” she said with a smile. “Last question, now what better way to get comfortable with your Aunty Alice and her diaper-changing skills than in the comfort of your own home?” She had me there, and Jen’s logic was sound. “I guess that is a smart decision, Mommy,” I responded. “Now that is what I thought. You do not have to say ‘mommy’ after every sentence but if we are behind closed doors, I do not want to hear you say my name, I want you calling me mommy or some form of it. Next, you are going to be my good boy like I know you can and let Alice put you in a diaper, do you understand?” she asked, still staring at me. I look up briefly to catch a glimpse of a smile but a set of very serious eyes. I look back down and respond, “Yes ma’am, I promise to be a good boy.” “Ok Alice he is all yours,” Jen said as she walked over to stand next to Alice. “Oh, my turn now?” Alice comments as she shifts my weight around getting a different hold on me so she can lay me down on my back. I did as Mommy asked of me and let her take charge and change my diaper. It still did not keep me from letting a squeak slip out as my back made its way to the bed. I look down to see Alice stand over me, only to see her reach for my ankles and start to lift them over my head. With one hand holding my ankle I feel the other one reach down and grab the back of my shorts and boxer briefs at the same time and pull them toward my ankles. My reflexes kicked in and used my hand to cover my manhood. Alice simply let go of my ankles letting them kind of fall halfway before I started to pull my knees towards my chest and tuck my feet down. Alice tosses my shorts and underwear to Jen so she can take care of them. I see my shorts get tossed in the hamper and my underwear found its way into a sack that seemed to house what I can only assume is the rest of my underwear. I switched my focus back over to Alice as she grabbed my ankles once more and raised them high, raising my bottom for a moment before it came back down resting on a soft fluffy diaper. Still hesitant, on little me legs fully fall and relax I hear Alice say something. “Feet down squirt,” she quipped as her hands helped guide my legs down. With a small smirk, she then swatted my hand away. And there it was, the moment I dreaded. Here I am lying flat on my back in only a t-shirt and a fresh diaper lying open and my down dropping over the side of the bed, one leg on either side of my sister-in-law. I was there on full display, even if I tried to cover up with my hand they would only get swotted out of the way. I did not realize that I closed my eyes because I felt the damp cold feeling of a baby wipe start to clean all over my diapered area. Any man would agree that the head that resides in the nether regions tends to think for itself. Against my own will, I started to get excited, lucky for me there was enough blood to rush to my cheeks at the same time and turn them even more red, if it’s even possible. At first, she ignored it but soon took my member between her index finger and thumb. I could only blush a deep crimson, wishing this would end soon. “Hey Jen when the last time is you drained this sucker.” Alice teased as she ignored me and made eye contact with her sister, “You know it may not be very big but it sure is a cute little thing.” “Mommy please” I whimper. “Nope, not Mommy. My name is Alice,” she said slowly to make sure I could understand her. “And don’t get all fussy on me, I am just making sure your mommy is taking care of all her little one’s needs.” “Quit teasing him,” Jennifer quickly stated, “I already had to calm one tantrum. You can handle the next one, especially if you are the one who winds him up.” Alice just giggles as she makes quick work of the rest of the diapering. After making sure my diapered area was clean front and back, she sprinkled a light dusting of powder. Lastly, she brings my diaper up and over and tapes it in place. As I lay there too embarrassed to move, I noticed Alice tidying up the area, my baby powder and a pack of baby wipes got put away while the used ones found their way in the same sack that my underwear did. I got a feeling that I won’t be seeing my underwear again after today. Breaking my trance Alice playfully rolls me over and starts to tickle me, the tickle attack only lasted a moment as I found out she was just trying to get me off the changing pad so she could put it away. I soon made my way off the bed and back onto my feet and pulled my shirt down to cover my belly. I did not even try and hide my diaper; I got over that a while ago. I do not own a shirt long enough to hide my diaper, what I needed was a pair of shorts. As I look around all I see is Alice standing in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, watching me get my bearings. I just simply ask, “Shorts?” Alice responds in kind, “Nope.” “Oh,” I state looking down in mock defeat. I look back up and look around once more, still not seeing Jen I ask Alice, “Mommy?” My simple one-word question was starting to make her smile, Alice continued our simple conversation by answering, “Downstairs.” “. . . Oh,” says once more looking defeated. Now Jen has told me about little space, but I have never been able to achieve it. I was sure I was not anywhere close still, but I did at least feel small. And I felt like the fewer words I said the less trouble I could get myself into. I also was not sure what to do, so I just stood there, in nothing but a t-shirt and diaper that had a cute bear and polka dots on it. Alice must have seen my unease because she continued our little one-word conversations. “Hand” she stated, as she held out her right hand. It was not a question but a statement. I responded simply with “K” as I placed my left hand into her right hand. I must have chosen right due to the big smile on her face as she turned and led me out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and paused at the top of the stairway. I must have worried her due to my recent theatrics going up the stairs, because as she stopped, she turned to me inquisitively, “OK?” I looked up at her and saw care in her eyes, she was not trying to tease me or anything but was wanting to make sure I was genially ok and would make it down the stairs. I don’t know why but hasn’t she seen me climb a set of stairs before? Still amused by our one-word conversation, with my words carefully chosen I simply stated with confidence, “self” and pointed to the staircase. I quickly realized that she was not taking any chances as she shot me down fast. “No”, she commanded. Alice made a quick look back at the stairs and must have been confident that letting me go down the stairs by myself would most likely end with a booboo. She quickly turns back around and breaks the one-word conversation, but keeps it simple, “hand or uppies?” Getting picked up and carried was not what I wanted, no way was I going to do that again any time. I simply took my hand out of hers and took a step back. She must have seen the hesitation in my eye for what she did next made me smile, but I still did not want ‘uppies’, I just hoped she knew that. Alice simply bent her knees got down at my level looked me into my eyes and asked me, “Hugs,” as she opened her arms. What can I say I was a sucker for hugs, they just made you feel good. I thought we were going to hug it out and I could still choose to just hold her hand. As I stepped into the hug and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, I found myself once again hoisted up in the air clinging on to dear life as Alice proceeded to carry me down the stairs. Now going up while being held is scary but in my mind, I will still survive. If we fall, I land on the person that is holding me. Now on the other hand, going down the steps was just the opposite, I was the one that was going to be crushed, and I was a lot smaller than the one who decided that picking me up and carting me down a flight of stairs was safe. “Honestly Charlie, what have you so scared of the stairs?” Alice asked. Still clinging to my sister-in-law like I was about to die, and my head buried in the nook of her neck, shakily I responded with “I’m not scared of the stairs.” “You sure fooled me,” she stated, “look we are perfectly safe.” Now I was a grown man, well at least in age at the very second. Right now, I do not feel like a man. Nonetheless, I knew my ABCs and my 123’s. Normally in one flight of stairs there is an average of 15 steps give or take a few depending on the building. As far as the house that Jen and I own is concerned it has exactly 15, I know this because I counted them, on multiple occasions. But this time my sister-in-law caught me off guard and did not bother to count, it did not feel like we went down the full flight of stairs. But she was standing still trying to encourage a thought of safety. As I lifted my head to take in my surroundings, I noticed that he was not at the bottom of the stairs, we were not even at the top. My head starts to spin and once again bury my face in the nook of Alice’s neck. “Baby, you are shaking like a leaf,” Alice said. Was I? I could not tell. All I know is that all I wanted was to go down, down off these steps and I cared very much about how I got down. I want to go down safely. All I could do was Close my eyes shut and just hope Alice moves. The next thing I know I have this falling feeling. All I could do was brace for impact as Alice and I went down. As we stop falling, I feel as if I was sitting on Alice. . . as she rubs my back. As Alice sits on the couch in the living room she tries to look down at her charge. With little luck at prying Charlie off she ended up just rubbing his back. At least he was not shaking anymore. With myself planted fairly on Alice, she turned out okay because she was rubbing my back. I start to let go of my death grip and sit up. I start to blush as I realize that the fall was not the stairs but Alice sitting on the couch. “But how did we get from there,” pointing to the stairs. “To here,” I ask, moving my finger from pointing to the stairs to the couch where we now were. With a chuckle, Alice replies simply, “I walked and then sat here.” “But. . . but. . .but” I stammered “I didn’t feel you walk; I only felt your fall.” “Not falling, plopping” she corrected, “and you were too busy shaking to feel me walk down the stairs. Looks like you were also too busy wetting those cute diapers of yours.” “What?” I questioned looking down at myself. Lo and behold Alice was right, my fresh diaper did not even stay fresh for ten minutes. I almost did not believe myself, so I decided to poke it to see if I was wet. Before my finger touched my diaper it was swotted away. “No,” Alice firmly said, swatting away my hands. “You don’t need to play with your diaper. And yes, little boy you wet your diaper, believe it.” Shocked that my hand was yet again swotted away from my diapered area. All I could do was look at Alice in disbelief. How dare she, who did she think she was? “What?” she said matter-of-factly, “don’t look so surprised Sir!” she continued, emphasizing the word ‘sir’ as if to mock me. “You and I may be business partners at work but outside of that you might as well believe that I am second in command of you.” “In command of me?” I chuckle, “What is this, the military? If you are second in command, who is first,” I said sharply, trying to get one up on my sister-in-law. And without missing a beat Jennifer walked in seemingly out of nowhere answering my question in a cool and casual tone, “That would be me, my love, I am first in command of this operation. Also, quit trying to be mean to Alice. You are only making yourself cuter, especially with you trying while you sit on her lap in just your t-shirt and diaper.” As she rounded the couch sitting on the other end of Alice, she turned to us and asked, “By the way, you did not want any shorts?” I instantly turned my head from Mommy to Alice scowling at her with my mouth open in shock. Just like that, I picked back up Alice and I’s conversation before she so rudely scared the piss right out of me, literally. “Shorts!” I proclaimed. Alice turned her attention back to me as she held on to me with a firm grip, both to make sure I did not fall off her lap and to make sure I did not run off. She looked at me as if her face was asking its question ‘Really, you’re asking again?’ Instead, she her one-word response not budging on her previous decision, “NO.” My face turned from scowling to pleading, “Why,” I muttered, trying to understand why I was being denied an article of clothing. “Because,” Alice said, almost wondering why I would even question her. “Please” I pleaded. All Jennifer could do was giggle at the most simplistic of conversations, “here, let me have him,” she said, reaching her arms out for her tiny husband. Yet again here I am, a four-foot-nine-inch man getting passed around, in my case like a toddler. With Alice already keeping a hold of me just picks me up and hands me over to Jen. With a slight unease of being passed around subconsciously reached for the closest thing to stabilize myself, unfortunately, that was Alice. It did not take long for Jen to grab me and pull me into her lap. Jen had me in a cradling position, for the most part. My back was supported by Jen's left arm that was wrapped around me, my bottom was sitting mostly on Jen's left side as my legs were together extending across her lap to the right. I wiggle a bit to get in a comfortable position. Due to the way Jen was holding me my right arm was trapped between Jen’s body and mine, leaving my left arm free to move. My feet though were resting on the couch between Jen and Alice. To be honest, it was a bit awkward for me, Jen's body was not quite square with the couch. Both Jen and Alice were halfway facing each other on the opposite sides of the couch, with me on Jen’s lap. “Deep conversation you two are having,” Jen stated with a giggle. Even though I was getting comfortable on Jen’s lap, that statement was it. I had enough, I wanted down and to go hide. I started to wiggle but was met by Jen’s firm grasp on me. “Down,” I stated in the middle of my struggle. “Hush now,” Jen said in a soothing voice. “What is the matter?” I knew if Jen did not want me down, I was not going to be put down. As I settled, I could not help but feel flustered, what was wrong with me? Since I was carted upstairs, I had one minor meltdown, an embarrassing diaper change from my sister-in-law, and a small panic attack being carried back downstairs. All I mustered was a toddler-like conversation between Alice and me since I was left alone with her after my final descent into diapers. I know that I fully agreed to this, but it did not mean I was ready to accept the fact I am now bound to a life of diapers, dependent on Jen to keep me clean. I just wanted to go somewhere quiet and think, I needed to calm down from all this and get my head on straight. *** “Charlie?” I asked inquisitively to my little husband. I noticed he was staring off into space but a moment after he struggled to get down he settled and leaned into me. I turned my gaze back to my sister asking her, “Did you break him?” “I did not mean to,” Alice said as she watched Charlie lean into me. “After you left all, I did was tell him no to shorts, which he was okay with initially and then went to bring him back downstairs.” I felt Charlie curl his legs up and try to lean further into me, resting his head on my chest. I wrapped my right arm around his legs and just gently swayed side to side as I continued my conversation, “Ya, there is a rule that when he is in his diaper, I have a final say in what he wears. Until today that rule was only invoked at bedtime, and most of the time I only let him wear his pajama shirt and diaper.” “Well, that makes sense,” chuckling Alice continued to say, “Now I know why he was irritated by the fact that he had an option for shorts.” “Probably, but you are probably correct in not letting him put any on. He needs to get used to you seeing him in his diaper,” I said, agreeing with my sister’s decision. “I do have one question though,” Alice states. “What’s that?” I ask, curious about what’s on Alice's mind. “Why on earth is Charlie deathly afraid of stairs and why have I not noticed it before?” asked Alice in a rather serious tone. “I get halfway down, and he looks up only to have a full-blown panic attack and hides his face and wets his diaper all before I can get over to the couch to sit down.” Furrowing my brows, I looked down at Charlie lying there with his eyes closed, still as a mouse. “Aww, pour guy,” I say turning my attention back to Alice. “He does not have an issue with stairs or heights per se. When he was small. . .” “He still is small,” Alice said dryly, interrupting me. “When he was smaller,” I corrected myself shaking my head at my sister’s taunt. “You’re an ass,” quipping back before continuing. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. Charlie's Mom was a bit of a drunk and a clumsy one at that, there were a few times that she had on her hip and fell. The final last time she did it she fell down the stairs and landed on Charlie. Luckily Charlie's Father just got home from work that day and rushed him to the doctor. Charlie was okay, just a bump and bruise. Barrett, Charlie’s father, filed for divorce shortly after and raised his two boys on his own.” “Holy shit, no wonder he is afraid. Also, it makes sense why he never mentioned his mother.” Alice said as she was taken aback by her sister’s story. “So why do you cart him up and down the stairs?” “At first I did not realize.” I started to explain before looking back down at Charlie, wondering if he was asleep or just lying there with his eyes closed. I looked back up and continued, “The first time was just an accident, he fell asleep on the couch trying to stay awake and watch a movie with me. Like any other loving wife with a compact hubby decided to carry him upstairs and put him to bed. He was also not wearing a diaper, which was another reason I wanted to get him upstairs and get him ready for bed.” Giggling Alice says, “Now who has the short jokes.” Ignoring my sister’s comment, I continue to explain, “About halfway up the stairs my phone goes off in my back pocket. I was curious about who was calling so late but also wanted to silence so I did not wake Charlie. So, I shifted him so he was sitting more on my right side and had him rest on my right arm so I could use my left to grab my phone. In the middle of me shifting him he woke up and after realizing where he was completely panicked and nearly jumped out of my arms. Once I realized what he was doing I caught him with my left hand, simultaneously tossing my phone off the stairs.” “Instead of him jumping out of his skin as he did for you, he completely attached himself to me,” Alice said, comparing recent events. “Oh, once I caught him, he latched on to me and refused to let go. It took a little bit of time but once we were in our room he finally calmed down and would let me put him down,” I stated. Taking a brief pause before adding more to the story, “Once Charlie regained his composure, and we were both clean from his little accident, he told me the first and so far, the only story of his mother. He did not realize it still bothered him so much, mainly because as he grew up, he evenly mastered the stairs by himself and grew confident in his ability. Because of our relationship dynamics, he loved me holding him, even though it was embarrassing for him. He told me that he wanted to get over his childhood fear and asked me to help him with it. He has gotten a little better about it but still has a way to go, of course, I don’t always carry him up the stairs.” “He actually peed on you?” Alice asked in an airy tone. “That is your takeaway?” I questioned. “He peed this last time too, when you were bringing him down.” Alice snickered and went on to say, “Ya, but the little squirt was in a diaper, I am all dry.” As the conversation was seeming at its end, I saw Alice look over to the wall where the clock hung. “Well, I am going to get out of here, leave you two to cuddle the day way,” she said turning around to her sister. “Really? You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” I Inquired “Yeah, I got a few errands to run myself before my weekend starts,” Alice responded. “Errands before your weekend starts,” I repeated, “If I did not know any better, it sounds like you still have work to do. I thought you said Everything was good to go at the office?” “They are, I just need to go by the grocery store and pick a few things up, so I don’t have to go later,” Alice informed. “Oh, before I forget, will you and Charlie be coming to dinner Sunday at Mom and Dad's?” she asked quickly. “To be honest I am not sure if Charlie is going to be up for it,” I said. “Just know Mom is very excited to see the little squirt” Alice informed as she was getting up. “Hold on, let me walk you to your car,” I say as I move my right arm under Charlie's legs to support his lower side as I start to get up. “Will you move that pill down a little bit,” I asked turning around so I could lay Charlie back down on the couch. Without a word, Alice adjusts one of the small decorative pillows on the couch under Charlie’s head as he is placed back down on the couch. She watched Jen roll him over on his side, so he was facing the back of the couch. Both of us satisfied that Charlie was not going to fall I turned and headed for the door and put my flip flops on as I saw Alice slip her flats back on as fast as they were taken off. Both of us make one more glance towards the couch before slipping out of the door, first Alice then me. I left the door cracked as I went to close the screen door. “I guess he really was sleeping, I almost thought he was just faking,” I say, following my sister to her car. “Well, the little guy had a pretty exciting day so far,” Alice said as she opened the door to her car. Before she gets in, she turns to hug her sister and softly tells her, “Call me if you need anything. “Ditto,” I say in a matching soft tone before ending the sisterly embrace. I stood there and watched my sister get in her car and back out of the driveway. Before my sister sped off, she gave me one last wave. Satisfied, I make my way up the sidewalk and back to the front door. Slipping my flip flops off as I walk through the door, glancing at my napping husband, and then turn to softly shut the front door before heading off to fetch a small blanket for Charlie. ************************************************************************************************************************ Chapter Four I am not sure how long I slept, to be honest, I was not even trying to sleep. I was just simply trying to take comfort in the situation at hand. One of my first customers at Red Tail Aviation got me into meditation. He told me, ‘Owning your own business is a stressful job, it is wise to learn to find peace in stressful situations.’ It was not the first time hearing about meditation, but what he said stuck with me. That is why when Jen refused to let me down, I just tried to make the best of it. Of course, her body was almost always warmer than mine, and with me pants less why not take advantage of my situation and curl up and her as my heater? I also wanted to close my eyes to help me focus on meditating. The bam, one minute I am listening to Jen disclose my origin story all comfy curled up on her lap, next minute I wake up almost falling off the couch jolting me back awake. To be perfectly honest, it would not be the first time I fell off the couch while I was napping. It’s kind of funny, the first it happened Jen was in her office when she heard a thud and shortly after that a very prominent four-letter curse work started with an ‘F’ and ended with a ‘K’. This was also after the rule of no cursing was invoked. After collecting my thoughts from yet another tumble off the couch, I sit up correctly rub the sleep out of my eyes and look around. It was still daylight outside, but that did not mean much. It was mid-summer, and the days were longer, perfect for road trips or working in the garage on my old 76 CJ7. I look over to the wall that has our clock hanging on it. The time read five thirty-two pm, close to dinner time. I was feeling a bit peckish due to skipping lunch. Dinner time was one thing that Jen loved to control in our house. It was the only meal that she could make sure I sat down to and ate. Lunch was always a hit or miss due to work and well, me getting distracted. Who needs food when you have coffee? Breakfast was always a struggle for me, though I have gotten used to at least attempting to grab a bite of something. I sat on the couch chuckling at the memory of Jen yelling at me as I ran out the door trying to get to work. That fate full day started with me taking a single bite out of the bagel I toasted for myself. Once I realized that I was running late I just dropped my bagel and ran. She saw me drop my food and bolt, and she quickly chased after me. ‘A bit to eat is an idiom,’ she hollered as I headed for the door. ‘It’s not supposed to be taken literally,’ she finished as she made it to the front door, trying to chase me down. By the time she made it to the door, I was already in my blue sports car putting it in gear. I also got in trouble the following night because of the whole ordeal. Jen had to go out of the state for work that same day I ran out of the house with only one bite taken out of my breakfast. Somehow, she found out that I did not eat anything else that day, the following breakfast, or lunch the next day. In my defense, I was going to eat that night, but I just got lost working on my Jeep. So, there I am lost in the garage again on night number two, nearly forgetting to eat when I see Alice pulled up carrying a mall brown bag and a huge scowl on her face. What happened next was scary at the time but looking back it’s kind of funny. When I saw Alice walking up to the garage, I stopped what I was doing and started to wipe my hands clean when she walked right up to me, grabbed one of my hands, and proceeded to drag me into my own house through the garage door. She dragged me to the kitchen table and sat me in a chair first before putting her small brown bag on the table, at this moment I realized what was going on. Alice then proceeded to look me in the eyes with the same scowl on her face as she arrived and pointed her index finger straight at me. ‘You are going to sit here and not get up until I watch you eat everything,’ she howled. She then proceeded to pull out the biggest sub sandwich I had ever seen, a small bag of ships, and one apple. As I said, I knew the moment she sat me in the kitchen of the misdeed I had done. Since I knew I was in trouble I might as well have a little fun. I looked down at the palms of my hands and saw they still had dirt on them. So, I simply looked up at Alice who was now sitting next to me fuming with anger, and showed her my hands and told her, ‘My hands are dirty.’ Let me tell you it was the best ‘worst’ decision I ever made, wordlessly got up grabbed a cloth from the counter, dampened it at the sink returned to the seat next to me, and proceeded to clean my hands for like a five-year-old. Once my hands were scrubbed with more vigor than needed, she sat the cloth on the table picked up the sub sandwich, and placed it in my hand, in my opinion, they were still dirty, but I was not about to tell her that. I know I am a small person, but that sub sandwich was massive in my tiny hands. Let me tell you she sat there for over an hour making sure I ate every bite. Once I was done, she left with the same grace as she came, without a word and anger spewing from her eyes. The following day I came home from work and found a very upset Jennifer. She waited till I was fully in the door before she proceeded to scold me on my health and how eating is somehow important to my health. She proceeded to lay out my punishment for me, I was to write a 500-apology letter to Alice, and I found out the reason she was angry that day was because I caused her date with a hot guy to be rescheduled. Her date told her that their date could wait and that making sure her brother-in-law was doing ok was more important. The rest of my punishment consisted of supervised meals, at home I had to sit with Jen, and at work it was Alice, I could not get till they were satisfied. I was also not allowed to have sweets for a month, and boy did Alice rub that in my face. Shaking the memory from my head I toss the small blanket that covered me to the side exposing my bare legs to the brisk air of the house and hop off the couch. I quietly make my way from the living room towards the kitchen, instead of veering to the left and going fully into the kitchen I instead turn right where the door to the office is. With the door cracked and the light on I had a strong hunch that I figured out where Jen was hiding. I push the door open ever so slightly to just poke my head in to catch Jen sitting at the computer. The office is both ours but due to me operating mostly from my laptop and phone when I am not at work Jen has turned it into her personal home office. I honestly don’t mind; it has given me the ability to work from home often. With sharp senses, I notice Jen glancing at me smiling, and giving me a wink before going back to typing on her computer. With my element of surprise gone, I open the door the rest of the way make my way towards her, and ask, “Hey Jen.” “Try again” Jennifer quickly states. I rounded the desk to see her face better and to see what she had pulled up on the computer screen. I give a longing look of sorrow and ask her, “Can I really not call you Jen?” Watching Jennifer quickly finish her email and hit send, closes her web browser, turns her attention to me and my visible diapered bottom, and asks, “Are we in public?” I was not fond when she answered my questions with a question. She had the uncanny ability to make me feel smaller than I was, my current attire did not help the situation. Reminded of the answer I knew I looked down in defeat and said, “No” Jennifer gently lifted my head, so I was looking at her. “If we are not in public, how are you to address me?” she asked softly. I would not say I am submissive, I do have rather high confidence in myself, and I will stand up for myself or my wife against anyone, no matter how big they are trust me when I say everyone is bigger than me. There have been multiple times that Jen had to pull me back from a fight, when you are small you tend to learn to either run or fight. And my father did not raise me to run or back down. But I had one weakness, my wife. I do not know what it is about her, but her dominating presence and confidence make me weak at the knees. It’s a mystery to me because I know that Alice has the same demeanor, I seen it with my eye both at work and on the occasional double date. But with Alice, I can stand up to her and tease her like I would my brother, the fun thing is she teases me just as much. Unable to look away I softly say, “I am to address you as Mommy.” With the correct answer, she gives me a peck on the lips and releases my face. Her gaze does not go far though, I look down and I follow suit to see what she is looking at. As Jennifer releases my face, she reaches down to check my diaper and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Smart baby, and a little soggy I see. You are such a good boy,” she praised. Jen always did her best to make sure that when I was up in the morning, she was not mad that I was wet. Just the opposite, she was always happy and proud of me for using my diapers. She did not want me to be ashamed of wetting the bed, she told me it’s just who you are and should be proud of yourself. There were many mornings in the beginning when she would show me that the bed was not wet and that it was only my diaper that was wet. To this day she will still praise me for my wet diapers, reminding me that I should not be ashamed of wetting them. I don’t know why I expected anything different from her now that diapers are now permanent in my everyday attire. Even after her gentle and kind praise I still felt it necessary to remind her that my wet diaper was not all my fault. “It’s Alice’s fault, she is the one who made me pee myself,” I informed her. In a gentle mothering tone, she told me, her small charge, “Now it’s not nice to blame others for things they did not due. Also, your diaper was not this wet before your nap.” “But it was her fault, she scared the. . .” I began as I saw her eyebrows raised listening intently to my choice of words. Cautiously I finished my statement, “Pee right out of me.” “Good catch Mr.” she chided and went on to say “Alice did not mean to scare you, she and I talked about it, and she will be more careful next time. I want you to answer me this, what are diapers for?” I knew she talked to Alice about me, I was conscious at least for part of it. It was the question at the end that had me perplexed. With uncertainty, I answered, “To potty in?” “Close baby, they are for someone that is not yet potty trained.” She said, correcting me. She went on to ask another question, “And are you potty trained?” Ah, now I see where this is going, but what did I say, nothing but questions to answer me with. “No, I am not potty trained,” I answered her with a huff after recalling the conversation that was had earlier today. Jennifer smiled and again praised Charlie for yet another correct answer. “Very good, I am suppressed you can remember that, but you seem to be forgetting to call me what?” she said cleverly. I got a feeling this was not the last time she was going to tease me about what I was to her. With a small smile and some fake enthusiasm, I tell her, “Mommy,” and move in and hug her. Without missing a step Jen used the momentum of my spring-loaded hug to snatch me off the ground and on her lap with a soft squish. “See, I knew you know who I am” she mused. “And you are my little boy who is not yet potty trained. Since my baby boy is not potty trained how could your Aunty Alice ever make you tinkle in your cute little diapie,” she said in conclusion. I slightly blushed when I felt my diaper squish as she sat me on her lap, I guess she was right, I think I was a little bit wetter than I was before I drifted off to sleep. Blasted bedwetting, well I guess I am not just a bed wetter now; I am not officially potty trained in the eyes of my Mommy. Sitting sideways in her lap, much like I was on the couch, I had my legs draped over one side of the office chair and Jen supporting my back. I watched her turn her attention from me to a stack of papers sitting on the desk. Jennifer reached over to pull out two identical pieces of paper and pulled them close so I could read them. “Now look over here sweetie, I have updated our Rules and punishments. Let me read them to you, ok. When we are done, we will both initial by every rule and punishment and then sign at the bottom.” I sat quietly trying my best to follow along with Jen, this kind of stuff always makes my mind wander. But I wanted to be good, so I told her, “Yes Mommy.” Jennifer cleared her throat and started at the top of the “Momma Jen’s and Little Charlie’s Rules and Punishments, Rules include but are not limited to 1. Drink plenty of water; 2. No caffeine after Lunch; 3. Get at least six hours of rest; 4. Eat two solid meals a day at least (preferably three); 5. Ask for help if you need it, 5a. Especially reaching for stuff out of reach; 6. Do not climb on counters.” Yup, all those are still the same. Most of them are from our very first agreement, all except Rule 6. Jen had to put that in there specifically due to me telling her that things would not be out of reach if I was on the counter. She was not too happy with me the first time she caught me on the countertop let alone the second time reaching yet again for the Oreos she likes to hide from me. Jennifer took a breath and continued to read aloud, “7. Absolutely no cursing; 8 Jennifer has final approval on clothing worn by Charlie. . .” The cursing rule is Mommy's favorite to enforce, I am honestly surprised that I have not caught her doing it. Also, it is good to note that Mommy and I agreed that rules one through seven are rules we both follow. When she first introduced the idea of a list of rules for me to follow, I did not think it was fair for me to have them and not her. After a very long conversation, we came up with the first list of rules for both of us to follow, which is why both of us signed it. Oh, and that goes for punishments too, but she does not break the rules as much as I do. It’s not like I go out of my way too; I just find myself wanting an Oreo or going almost two days without eating because I get too busy to care. “. . . 9. Charlie is considered NOT potty trained and will be kept in diapers, 9a. Yes, Charlie, this means the big boy potty is a no-no.” Jenifer stopped reading to look at Charlie and make sure he was paying attention. “Baby, are you listening? What was that last rule I just read?” she asked. “The potty is a no-no,” I said dryly, not believing she would write the list. What did she think I was going to do, sneak off and use the potty? If I did that, she could get me on rules 5, 8, and 9 at least, probably more as she keeps reading. I am good. “Keep going Mommy,” I said to get back on track. “Just making sure you are paying attention and not daydreaming,” she said before she continued reading the list. “10. Charlie is not allowed to change his diaper, 10a. Jennifer is ultimately in charge of Charlie’s Diapers.” “One second Mommy,” I interrupted, “what I am by myself, can I change my diaper then?” Jennifer simply said “No" and before Charlie could ask a follow-up question she explained, “At home you have me, at work you have Alice. Anywhere else I assure you; you will have someone there to help you with your needs.” The thought swirled around my head only for a second before the words “That’s not fair" blurted out of my mouth. “You are essentially telling me I will have a babysitter when you are not with me? But . . .” flustered at trying not to alert out Jen's name only a moment passed before I was able to continue, “Mommy that’s obscene, I am a grown man. What about not hindering me from work?” I firmly asked, needing to hear her explanation. “I can see you are a little unsettled by this," she replied, trying to keep the smile from showing. She thought it was cute seeing her little husband sitting on her lap in a wet diaper arguing that he was a grown man. It was not her intention to belittle him, but the situation was rather adorable. Unsettled was not the word I would have used but I was not about to correct her. I Tully wanted to understand her reasoning, so I did not interrupt her trying to convince me that I needed a babysitter. Jennifer kept on talking explaining her reasoning to my very sour face, “Yes, you will have an attendant with you to help you out with your diapers for when you need to be changed. Also, anyone that you are with who has agreed to help me with you is fully aware of any and all of our Rules. Since I cannot trust you to follow the rules, we both have agreed upon I feel it is necessary to make sure I have a babysitter to make sure my little Charlie is not getting into mischief.” Jen saw the shock on my face as she made her comment but continued still, “you may be an adult and my husband, but you are also my Little as I am your Mommy. You and I started this journey a while ago and both of us wanted to make each other happy let me tell you that you may not see the ‘little side’ in you, but I sure do all too well and a mommy knows when her little boy is not ready for adult privileges.” I was shocked, I could not believe what she just said, “first I am too responsible, second, I do not have a ‘little’ side,” I said firmly as I used air quotes when I said the word little. She simply smiled and raised her eyebrows in amusement, “I hope you hear yourself; I can recall multiple times when I had to get someone to help you remember to eat, go home and sleep or any one of the times I caught you eating sweets during the night. That proves to me that you are not responsible for respecting the rules you agreed on that were put in place for your health and wellbeing; and yes, you do have a ‘little' side,” she said ending with air quotes on the word little to mimic me. “I still don’t need a babysitter,” I said flatly. More importantly, she mentioned something that I need to reiterate, “third thing, you said that anyone that I am with has agreed to help you with me,” I repeated in confusion. I went on to ask, “Who else knows about our little dynamic? I thought it was just between us, our little secret?” I asked worriedly. “You and I talked about this baby; you knew what I wanted. The both of us came up with a plan and compromises to make it all work for the best. This is a part of that. And outside of a select few people, it is our little secret, we just have friends that understand and want to be there for us,” she said softly with a sympathetic look. With a huff I turned back to our list and with a flat tone of defeat I as her, “Please continue Mommy.” Jen simply left me to my feelings as she continued, “11. Charlie will refer to Jennifer as Mommy or Momma, 11a. enforced heavily behind closed doors, 11b. First names are good in the public eye, just be respectful; 12. Charlie is allowed to work on his cars in the garage unless Jennifer says otherwise; 13. Charlie is allowed to drive alone if it’s communicated with Jennifer, 13a. If there is a backup plan this privilege can be taken away as punishment, 13b. Backup plans include but are not limited to driving by Jennifer, Alice, or an approved friend; 14. Charlie’s consumption of alcohol will be approved on a case-by-case basis, 14a. approval authority limited to Jennifer; 15. Rules outside of this list must be discussed and agreed upon before implementation.” Jennifer stopped to take a breath and asked me, as I sat in her lap quietly as a mouse, “That is all the rules, you ready for the Punishments?” “That is a lot of rules, Mommy, how am I supposed to remember all of them? I can barely follow the list we had before this and it’s twice as long,” I said a bit sarcastically “The punishments look the same though, you don’t need to read them,” I said reaching for a writing utensil. Jennifer grabbed my eager hand and said, “Not so fast baby, we need to read them allowed to make sure we both agree. When we are done with all this, I will post one on the fridge for us to look at and the other will go in the filing box,” she explained trying to ignore my unsettled mood. Clearing her throat and finishing reading the document, “Punishment includes but is not limited to 1. Time out for naughty behavior; 2. Writing lines or something similar, to learn a lesson; 3. Grounding (or taking things away), to appreciate what you have; 4. Supervised mealtime, to make sure you eat healthy; 5. Spankings, for severe rule breaking; 6. Ultimately the punishment must fit the crime; 7. Punishments outside of this list must be discussed and agreed upon before implementation.” Once she finished, I quickly piped up and quickly spoke, “Yes, I agree. Can I sign?” “Baby I know you are eager to get down, but are sure you understand all the rules? You mentioned there were a lot of them,” she asked repeating the concern I stated a moment ago. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and then looked at Jen and said, “Yes Mommy, the first half of the rules are the same. The second half is the new ones we mentioned before, the ones making me baby.” I did my best to smile but it was hard to form. I knew Jen was right, she always is. I am just too carefree and aloof, she does mean the best for me, and I cannot be upset at her for it. I still get my career, my hobbies, and most importantly her by my side. “I am sorry for freaking out before, it’s just I was not expecting this decent into diapers to be so steep.” Jennifer hugged me tight and kissed me on the cheek while letting my hand go so, I could reach for the pen. After I signed, she followed suit and within that moment marked our written and signed agreement to our new contract. I was still on her lap and was getting more anxious by the moment, she could tell. To break the tension she asked, “Are you hungry? I have dinner prepped, just needs to be cooked and put together?” I nodded my head and scuttled off her lap, allowing her to get up and move towards the kitchen. Not wanting to be alone with my thoughts I followed her into the kitchen. I quickly went from being upset at the thought of being an actual little to being worried that I was too immature and not enough for my wife. As she was reaching the fridge I shakily asked, “Am I immature?” ************************************************************************************************************************ Chapter Five Jennifer’s hand was just touching the handle of the refrigerator when she heard me ask my question. I watched her turn to me and bend down to my level, looking me in the eyes, “I love everything there is about you, including your immaturity. Witch to be honest is just you being so carefree and dreaming the big ideas. You are my everything, I promise.” I felt better hearing Jen say those words. That was what I needed, to put faith into our new contract and do my best to be all I can be for Jen. But there was one simple question that lingered on my mind, “do we still get to you know, have sexy time?” I said bluntly with a worried face. All Jen could do was smile and giggle as she turned to me, “You may be my little, but you are definitely all boy. Yes sweetie, we still get sexy time, but since I am in charge of your little diapee. . .” she said with a gentle pat to my sodden diaper, “I will be ultimately in charge of that department as well. Just another reason for my Baby boy to be a good boy.” With that question she knew had to know my spirits were back on the rise, she gave me another kiss and stood back up so she could start preparing our dinner. With the promise of sexy time does not disappear I was rather happy. “Mommy, can I help you with dinner?” I asked, still standing next to her. “It’s OK honey, I got it. You just relax and enjoy your evening.” She said busying herself with dinner. “Please may I have a diaper change?” I asked, not wanting to feel my bulky diaper swell any bigger. “Who is in charge of my baby’s diapers?” Jennifer asked in a mock confused tone. I rolled my eyes and replied in a monotone voice, “You are.” Beaming with happiness she glances at me and says, “My baby is so smart, you don’t need to worry about your diapers, you just focus on using them like a good little boy. But to soothe your worries, your diaper will hold till it’s time to get you ready for bed. You are still wearing your thick nighttime diapers; they can hold quite a lot.” With a huff, I simply said, “Fine, I guess I will just waddle the rest of the night.” “Cheer up sweetheart, I have some new diapers on order, they are a bit thinner for the daytime. They are not as bulky.” She said busying herself around the kitchen. “Plus, these diapers are all white with a blue landing strip with bunnies on them, they are adorable,” she said. “Yay, more diapers,” I said with fake excitement in my voice. I turned on my heel and started to go back into the living room before I heard Jen get my attention. “Hold on one sec,” she commanded as she opened the fridge. Jen pulled out my large water bottle and handed it to me, “How about you start drinking some water while I am cooking.” I grabbed the seemingly large blue canteen from Jen, “do I have to drink the whole thing?” “Not all at once,” Jen said with a smile, “just sip on it till it's bedtime, ok.” She watched her little's face scrunch up with disgust, knowing what he was going say she asked anyway, “What’s with the face?” I knew all too well she was just trying to get me to stay hydrated, but I hated it when she handed my canteen to me, it’s the only thing she let me drink till it was empty. “it’s so big, and water sucks,” he said not so enthusiastically. “It’s only 40 ounces and water is good for you, especially since all you have to drink is coffee and beer. Call me mean all you want to, but I am just looking after you,” Jen said well-rehearsed due to this conversation being brought up almost every other time she handed him his canteen. “Just think though, now you won’t have to worry about the multiple potty trips anymore,” she said with a grin. “Ha ha ha, laugh all you want to, Mr. Soggy Bottom shall be in the other room while his dinner is prepared,” I said mockingly. I took a drink from my canteen in front of her to show her my goodwill before turning back around to head to the living room. She must have been satisfied because all I heard was giggling when I rounded the corner to the living room. I took one more drink before setting my canteen down on the end table next to the couch and headed towards my backpack that was still sitting by the door. Jen still had my phone with her and probably would not give it to me even if I asked. She knows all too well that I will just use it to check on work. To be honest I was not obsessed with work, I just been getting shut out this last week due to Alice trying to make me take a vacation. I just wanted to check my emails and make sure there was nothing I needed to take care of. I unzipped the backpack and peered inside and to my surprise my laptop was not in there. This was totally unfair, but I was not done digging in my backpack. I opened a small Pouch inside the main component of my bag and saw that my candy was still there. I quickly closed my backpack leaving all its contents in and left it by the door. Still not happy my laptop was confiscated as well; I grabbed my canteen off the end table and waddled back into the kitchen. I did not make eye contact with Jen, I simply walked around the island and over to the table. After sitting my can teen down on the table, I took my seat at my normal spot and just Stat there with my arms folded. After a few minutes of listening to her hum while she cooked and seemingly ignoring my presence, I grabbed my canteen to have another drink and sighed loud enough for her to hear me. Jen noticed me come back in and sit down at the table. She probably knew I was eventually going to look for my laptop, though she probably took it before I woke up from my nap. We were both aware of why I was pouting, so I just watched her cook as I sat and sulked. After a while the food was done, and she pulled down two plates and started filling them both. She put a fork on each plate and went to put the plates on the table, “I hope you are hungry I made chicken penne pasta and steamed broccoli,” she said setting the plate on the table. I was still not happy with my electronics gone but the food did smell amazing. I watched her grab herself a drink of water before sitting down and joining me at the table, “it smells good babe, thank you for cooking.” “I am glad you like it,” Jen said with a smile before she started to eat. My wife was a good cook, there was not one dish she prepared that I did not like. I even ate all my vegetables without any fuss. For me it’s not necessarily what I eat it’s just that I tend to not eat, but when I eat Jen’s food I am always struggling to eat as much as I can. The only difference is my version of eating a lot is different than hers. None the less I did my best and that is all she asked for. After a few bites of my pasta, I asked, “So do you have any plans while I am on vacation?” Jen finished the bite she had in her mouth before answering, “Nothing too crazy, getting you into diapers was the biggest thing. I wanted a relaxing couple of weeks for you to adjust to the new lifestyle before really doing anything too crazy.” “Ah" was all I said before blushing profusely, even though I was just around Jen it was still embarrassing to be at the dinner table in just a t-shirt and diaper like some toddler. My embarrassment did remind me of something though, “Oh, um. You mentioned that your parents know about my secret, well I assume our new set of rules is also known. Are they going to treat me differently?” Jen sat her cup down after taking a drink, “Yes sweetie, they know about our new set of rules, well the just of them anyways. She will get a copy of our rule list when I send out a list to all the participating parties that agreed to help keep an eye on you if you are ever not with me,” she said before taking a bite of her broccoli. After swallowing her food, she continued to say, “as far as my parents treating you differently, you can expect Dad to be the same. Mom on the other hand is very excited for the veil to be lifted and for you to take this step in our life, she has been talking about treating you like one of the grandkids.” I stopped mid-chew to look into Jen’s eye to see if she was joking. I could see the sorrow in her eyes as she continued to eat, waiting for my rebuttal to what I just learned. “This is going to be embarrassing the next time I am over there. She knows I am still an adult and your husband, right?” Jen nodded her head while she was chewing her food. She saw my thoughts rolling around in my head. After swelling and clearing her mouth of food she went to say, “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone with them.” Jen just then started to notice Charlie wiggling more than normal in his chair. She just smiled and continued to eat; she had this problem with him that one weekend she let her keep him in diapers for two whole days. As much as I was displeased with my in-laws knowing about my situation, I did not have much of a choice in the matter. I was just glad they are seemingly ok with it all. I was about done with my food before my bladder decided to make itself known. With my apparent slowing down of eating I heard Jen start to say something. “Just go honey, you will feel better,” Jen said, somehow knowing I had to pee. As soon as she said it, I went to get up but stopped me by continuing to say, “No-no honey, sit in your chair and finish eating. I know you are not done.” “But you said. . .” was all I said before she shut my plea down. “Go pee-pee in your diaper honey, that’s what it is there for. You can do that and finish eating at the same time,” she said softly. Jen sat her fork down on her empty plate and reached for her drink while she watched me finish my food. I turned back to my plate and picked my fork back up, I went to scoop up another bit of pasta and put it in my mouth. When I was pulling my fork out of my mouth my tiny bladder made its presence known again. I simply closed my eyes and did my best to relax. I opened my eyes again and sat my fork down with a little bit of stiffness in my posture as I started to wet myself at the dinner table. I am glad Jen did not want to make a big scene out of my little milestone, she was good at making me feel comfortable. “One more bite and you are all finished sweetheart,” she said with praise in her voice. Jen watched as me, very embarrassed, ate my last bit of food and placed my fork on the plate. Dinner was the one meal Jen was strict on, we always ate at the table and the first implementation of rule number four she had another unspoken rule that went along with it, I was not allowed to get up without her approval on how much I ate during dinner time. I went along with this because I knew she knew I did not eat very well during the day. I figured if she let me do my thing throughout my day, I could be good and let her make sure I get at least one good meal. Still very embarrassed about just wetting myself at the dinner table I still let out a quiet, “Please may I be excused?” *** As I heard Charlie’s question, I grabbed both of Our plates to take to the sink and told him, “Yes you may, I am so happy you cleaned your plate.” I made a quick business to tidy up the last of the dirty dishes and start the dishwasher after we ate. When I went to wipe the table down to finish my post-dinner cleaning, I saw Charlie still sitting at the table but with his knees pulled up to his chest. “What’s the matter?” I said with slight concern. “I don’t know what to do,” Charlie told me as I picked up his half-full canteen off the table so I could wipe it down. “My normal Friday routine is off, and I just want to be in the same room as you,” he said. “I am not sad, just kind of bored.” I was done tidying up and went over to Charlie. “How about we move this into the living room,” I said grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the chair. As he stood up, I took the time and check his diaper and made sure it would last just a little bit longer so I could put a fresh one on him just before we went to bed. “Look at that buddy, your diaper is still good to go. It’s getting rather soggy though, but it will last the evening, we will get you a new one at bedtime, ok?” Charlie just stood there nodding his head at me as I took the canteen from him and gave it a gentle shake, “Look at you, you have drunk half of your water. Good job honey!” I still could not get over how adorable Charlie looked in his diapers, ever since I started to help him with them, I just could not get the picture of him being my little boy out of my head. I always respected him as my partner and let him be the man in the relationship, but even a strong man [no matter how small] has a vulnerable side. I wanted to nurture his vulnerability and protect it, I did not want him to be afraid of showing her his emotions, I wanted to be his rock, just like he was for me. As I gave Charlie his canteen of water back, I wondered if I could ever get him to drink from a bottle for me. With thoughts swirling in my head, I asked him, “Since dinner was a little late how about we end the night with a little TV and cuddling on the couch?” Charlie took his canteen back from me, he should know I was not letting up on him drinking fluids to keep hydrated. “Sure, that sounds great actually,” he responded. After all the events of today, I knew he was questioning his maturity. But there was one thing that always cheered him up, and that was our cuddle time. Charlie never said no to cuddles and simply just melted when we did. “We can watch the next episode of our show!” I said with a smile. Charlie and I may be busy, but we do try our best to make sure we make time for us. His diaper was getting rather plump, and it made it hard for him to not be embarrassed, but I tried to help him get over it by not making a big scene and just following his little waddle to the living room and sitting down on the couch. As I followed my husband into the living room, I snagged the remote to the TV off the coffee table before sitting down on the couch facing Charlie instead of the TV. Charlie chose to sit in the middle of the couch, as I chose to sit on one of the ends. Splitting my attention with getting the TV turned on and watching Charlie sip on his water, I could not help myself and take a chance, “Hey Charlie, would you like some cookies for dessert while we watch our show?” He was a little confused, normally I did not offer after-dinner cookies unless he ate everything on his plate, and he still had food on his plate when I let him be done. “I will never say no to cookies, but I did not eat all my food?” Charlie stated. “That is true but considering that today was a big step for you, let's count this as celebratory milestone cookies,” I responded. With that said he seemed to feel okay in indulging in some cookies, well truth be told I knew he could never say no to me offering him Oreos. With a smile I heard Charlie start to say, “Do we have . . .” was all he got out before I interrupted him. “Oreos,” I said finishing Charlie’s sentence. “Am I that predictable?” Charlie asked, a little shocked. “Babe, out of all the cookies I buy, Oreos are the only ones I have caught you sneaking in the middle of the night and climbing on our counter for,” I said with a smile. Noticing Charlie's sheepish grin indicating my statement was correct, I started to stand up. I handed the remote to my little one and instructed him, “You find our show and I will get our snacks,” and then headed into the kitchen. Once I was in the kitchen I reached up to the top shelf of the cabinet and pulled down the package of Oreos and a small saucer to put a hand full on. After the cookies of choice were plated, I put the rest back on the top shelf and then opened the small cabinet above the fridge and pulled down a small plain brown box. The box was only folded shut and took no effort for me to open it and reveal a baby bottle. This was no ordinary bottle; it was slightly larger than a normal baby bottle and the nipple was a bit larger as well. I had purchased this as well as a few things that were hidden around the house from one of the adult baby/diaper lover websites that catered to the little lifestyle. The bottle was already washed, all I needed was to put the milk my hubby was going to ask for in it. I made quick work of filling the bottle with some milk and a little bit of honey and placed it in the fridge for the time being. With that done I picked up the saucer of Oreos and brought them back into the living room, setting them on the coffee table in front of Charlie. Sitting back down on the couch with one leg under me, I faced Charlie and simply said, “Cookies for my little man.” Once I sat the cookies in front of him and sat back down, all he could do was just hug me to show his affection and love. Charlie learned a long time ago that one of my love languages was physical touch, he liked it too, but hugging was a favorite way for him to show me how much I meant to him. “Thank you for the cookies, Mommy,” Charlie said before pressing play to our show and reaching for an Oreo. I just sat there watching him and the show we have been binge-watching lately. I only ate a few of the Oreos, though Charlie kept offering them to me. It only took one episode for the Oreos to be fully devoured, and as expected I watched Charlie drink his water with a disappointed look on his face. I knew that Charlie loved to drink milk with his cookies, as do most people I presume. However, I was surprised that he did not complain about drinking the water that was provided for him. At the end of the current episode that we were watching I turned to Charlie and smiled. “What would you say if I told you that you don’t need to finish your water and I will get you some milk to wash the cookies down with?” I asked calmly. He reached for the remote and paused the TV before the next episode started to play. “I would ask you what the catch was,” Charlie told me looking skeptical. He must suspect something is up, first, there were cookies after dinner after he did not clean his plate and now, he didn’t have to finish his water that I always enforce him to drink. “Just please keep an open mind ok,” I calmly stated before getting up and heading back into the kitchen. I know he must be sitting there in utter confusion, wondering what I was doing. The TV was not on, so I knew he was listening to me getting the milk out of the fridge and putting it in the microwave. I know he liked warm milk before bed, he mentioned that he used to have it as a kid. It did not take me long to get his bottle warmed and ready for him before I went back to the living room, hiding his bottle behind my back. I sat back on the couch facing Charlie and the bottle of milk behind my back. “I would like for you to try something and if you like it, I would like to start a new nighttime ritual,” I said simply. “And if you say no or try it and don’t like it, I am ok with it,” I added right before I presented the slightly larger baby bottle that was filled with milk. “That is a bottle . . .” Charlie said looking at what I pulled out from behind my back. “I saw it when I was shopping for you online, then purchased it on a whim and thought that you might. . . you know, like it.” I said cautiously. His eyes did not break contact with the slightly larger baby bottle in my hands. As if not believing what he saw I saw that he was trying to figure out what to say. “I don’t know babe,” Charlie told me, sitting in confusion. I see the look of shock and confusion on his face. “It is totally up to you, I will not make you drink from it, it was just something that I thought we could add to our play. I am sure that you will like it if you try it,” I added trying to sway him over and take the offered bottle of milk. “I will also not make you finish your water if you try it,” I added. “I just drink from the bottle, and I don’t have to finish my water?” Charlie repeated, baffled by the predicament that sat in front of him. He did not know what to say, that much was obvious. I knew he did not desire to drink from a bottle, nor did he want to finish his water. The bottle was my thing hands down, he knew I wanted to care for him and baby him, and I knew he was on the fence about this bottle decision. I sat there for what seemed like an hour but was only about a little over a minute. Charlie was just sitting there dumbfounded about what I presented him. I knew that it was not a hard no, otherwise he would have said it by now. With confidence, I softly told Charlie, “How about I give this to you.” Once I handed the bottle to Charlie, I picked up the empty saucer and his canteen so I could take them back to the kitchen and put them away. He just sat there holding the bottle as I tidied up. When I disappeared into the kitchen, I looked back to find him studying the bottle. When I introduced him to the world of Littles and adult babies, he knew they had these and others liked to use them. They made a lot of things for today’s adult baby to enjoy including pacifiers and a plethora of baby clothes that would fit anyone. It did not take long before Charlie saw me walk back into the living room, turning off the light from the kitchen. I did not come straight over to the couch; he watched me turn off the lights in the living room as well so that it was just the glow of the TV lighting up the living room. I also grabbed the blanket that Charlie left lying on the other side of the couch from his previous nap. I could feel Charlie watching me as I made my way back to my spot. I placed the blanket on the back of the couch so I could easily retrieve it. After sitting down like before I gently grabbed Charlie’s bottle, “here let me take that for a moment,” I said before placing it on the coffee table. “How about we lay down on the couch while we watch some more TV shall we,” I stated as I guided Charlie, adjusting both of their positions on the couch. I lay there on my back with a small couch pillow under my head. Charlie, being the smaller one, laid on my stomach, pinning one of his arms between us and the couch, and his legs intertwined with mine. Both of my arms were free, I gently guided Charlie’s head to rest on my chest before reaching for the blanket and tossing the blanket open, attempting to cover us both the best I could. I looked down at Charlie and asked, “Are you comfy?” With Charlie's nod of approval, I reached over pressed play on the remote, and then grabbed the worm bottle of milk that was laced with a small amount of honey. Laying on my stomach was always Charlie's favorite, he loved to wrap his one free arm around Jen or sneak it up my shirt so he could touch my soft skin. Outside of the occasional shock of my cold hands on my bare skin I never was bothered by him touching me. But this time he just opted to hold on to me for comfort because as soon as we got situated and continued our show, I grabbed the bottle and presented the nipple of the bottle to Charlie’s lips. “Come on sweety, open up,” I said, trying to coax her little in taking the bottle. It only took a second before she saw his reluctant lip’s part and inserted the bottle in my littles mouth. “There we go honey,” she praised. He did not agree to this, but he never said no to it either. I lay there for a moment holding the bottle in his mouth as he was reluctant to start sucking. It did not take long before some of the milk dripped out into his mouth showering me with worm-sweet milk, making him swallow and start the process of sucking the contents of the bottle. At that point he tried using his one free hand and tried to grab the bottle, so I did not have to. “It’s ok baby, I got it. You just lay there and drink your milk ok,” I said in the sweetest of tones. He put his hand back down and just laid there, his head on my chest, watching our show together drinking from a bottle. About halfway through the bottle, I found his one free hand wandering up my shirt, rubbing my skin as he nursed. I know he could not see it, but I had a big smile on my face. I am not sure how long it took but I do remember us being into our third episode of the night before his eyes got droopy. It took him all the second episode for him to drink the whole bottle though. Between all the water, dinner, cookies, and the full bottle of milk his stomach was rather full. Unfortunately, it was not the only full thing, at the same time his eyes were getting heavy I knew his bladder made itself known once again, letting him know that it was full. I was just beside myself in happiness when Charlie drank from the bottle, I got him. I was curious about what he thought of it, but I would not ask him tonight, I just want to stay in the moment and just enjoy the progress we have made so far. I saw Charlie’s droopy eyes suddenly get wide and started to wiggle, it did not take much for me to notice that Charlie was about to potty again. “Shh, it's ok honey, just relax and let it go, baby,” I soothed while rubbing his back. I watched him struggle to keep still but after a bit the wiggling stopped, and I could feel Charlie peeing in his diaper. “I am so proud of you baby, good job,” I praised as I continued to rub his back. Charlie just lay there whimpering; I did my best though to praise him for using his diaper. I could not help but think of the fact I got him to just stay put and wet himself while he was lying on me, I know he felt guilty as he said “I am sorry Mommy” softly while he lay there. “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about,” I said caringly. “You don’t need to be ashamed for wetting your diapers, it’s going to be a normal thing for your honey,” I continued. Charlie was about to rebuttal, but I did not want to hear it, “shh, just be still baby,” I told him as I went from rubbing his back to patting his diapered butt. It did not take long before my rhythmic patting of his bottom and the fact I did not want to listen to his pout before his droopy eyes came back. After a while, he just accepted defeat much like last time, and started falling asleep on me. It was halfway into the fourth episode before I noticed Charlie’s breathing change. I looked down and as expected Little Charlie was asleep once again. It took me a moment to think, I could probably get up and carry him to bed without him waking up, but I did not need him to wake up halfway up the stairs. So, I did just the opposite and started to gently rub his back, “Baby, wake up, it’s bedtime.” I watched as Charlie rubbed his eye and slowly got off me and just stood there holding the blanket. He watched me get up after he got off me, I took the blanket he was holding and draped it across the couch. We do not get to do this often, most of the time we both head to bed early just so we can wake up early and get ourselves around for work. But the days we both don’t work the next day we try and stay up a little bit. He tends to start dozing off way before I do though. He saw me reach for the remote and turn the TV off leaving us in darkness. He was never afraid of the dark, but that did not discourage me from taking him by the hand and leading him over to and up the staircase. It did not take long before I had him led into our room and flipped on the bright lights. My first thought was to get my little man into a fresh diaper before I saw him head to the bathroom with a smile, I quickly started to interrogate his mischief, “What are you doing baby?” I asked inquisitively. “Don’t worry Mommy, just brushing my teeth,” Charlie told me tiredly. With a smile and already stepping into the bathroom he jokingly told me, “If I see the big bad potty monster move, I will cry for you to come rescue me though.” All I could do was smile and giggle at Charlie, making light of his new situation. “You do just that Baby and I will come rescue you from that mean old potty monster,” I responded in kind. “While you do that, I am going to get ready for bed. When you are done, I will change your diaper and get you ready as well,” I informed. I watched Charlie flip the light on in the bathroom and step in front of the sink reaching for his toothbrush. He stood there applying toothpaste on his toothbrush and glanced at the mirror and saw himself standing there in his Batman t-shirt and one soggy diaper. He started to brush his teeth. Normally that is the site he only saw when he was just waking up and waiting for me to take his diaper off in the morning. No more, this will be a new normal for him. As he was nearly done cleaning his teeth I saw him glance at the toilet, probably thinking ‘Potty monster huh, was not long ago you was my porcelain thrown. Now here I am bound to diapers like an un-potty-trained toddler, unable to sit on you without Mommy holding my hand.’ That thought brought a smile to my face. As Charlie was about done with brushing his teeth, I turned to finish changing my clothes and get into something more comfortable. I stripped myself of my clothes and tossed them in the hamper. After downing a clean pair of cotton underwear, I walked into the closet to find myself a baggy shirt to put on. While I was there, I grabbed a fresh diaper for Charlie. As I walked out of the closet, I saw Charlie sitting on the bed in the same spot Alice put him to get him diapered. I walked up to him, grabbed his shirt, and told him, “Arms up.” He was a little confused at the command I gave him, but he did as he was told. Sitting there on the bed, now in just his soggy diaper, I tossed his shirt in the hamper and then I put the diaper that was also in my hand on the bed next to Charlie. I gently pushed him back, a wordless command to lay down. I have been putting him in diapers since I found out he wore them to bed, I was a pro, and tonight was just another night of getting my baby husband ready for bed. He watched me make quick work of his diaper change and before he knew it, he was back in a fresh clean diaper. To be honest, I do not know that he knew the diapers I picked out for him held so much. When I first got them and put them on him for the first time, he just thought they were so thick. But now after getting a fresh diaper change after just wearing a fully saturated one, I am sure it did not feel as thick as it once did. Satisfied with my work I smiled down at my diapered husband as he was sitting up. “Stay right there,” I said firmly before I went and walked out of the room. He looked confused at the command I had just given him. I am also confident he was wondering where I was going. As instructed, He did stay seated in his spot, but I knew he was listening closely to try and hear what I was doing. I tried to be as silent as I could, but I knew he heard what he probably thought to be one of the spare rooms open, after a moment the door closed, only for me to come back holding what looked to be a baby blue shirt. “Arms up honey,” I instructed again. Confused still, He raised my arms like before, and to my expectation, he let me put his arms and threw the sleeves and the shirt over his head. As his eyes made it through the headhole, he put my arms down and went to look at the shirt before he was gently guided back down to lie on the bed. As quickly as he lay down, I raised his legs momentarily, grabbed the back of his shirt, and pulled it down. He lowered his legs, and I brought the back of his shirt up over his diaper and grabbed the front of his shirt pulling it down over his diaper and snap, snap, snap, snap. He quickly got up and looked down, “what is this, am I wearing a. . .” he started to say before I cut him off. “Onesie?” I started with a smile pleased at my work and how well Charlie let me put it on him. “Yes, you are wearing a onesie, and you look adorable in it. And before you ask no you can’t take it off, yes you are wearing it all night, I will take it off of you before your morning shower.” Dumbfounded, all he could do was just look down to see what was printed on the front of the onesie he was wearing, it read ‘Mommy's little boy’ with black lettering. “Why?” he asked me astonished at what I put him in. “There are a few reasons, babe,” I said starting to explain. “First is that they are not only adorable but practical, they will help support your diaper and keep it from sagging when it gets full and soggy. Second, I thought you might want a surefire way to help keep your diaper from peeking out when you are working and being a big boy. Once you put your pants on and your normal shirt on it just looks like an undershirt you have tucked in.” I was proud of my explanation, I thought that the onesies were a good thing and would be a hit when Charlie realized their potential. He would like them too; I was sure of it. “Of course, I am wearing onesies to work,” Charlie said tired and defeated. I knew that he was able to see the practical use for it, it was just me surprising him with a onesie on top of putting him permanently back in diapers, and the surprise baby bottle was probably just overloading him a little. I embraced Charlie in a hug, “Oh honey, don’t feel blue. I only wanted to give you a way to hide your diaper when you are not at home. Not all of them have prints on them, some are just solid colors,” I said trying to soothe him. “It’s not that, I do appreciate the thought, I am just tired and ready to go to sleep,” Charlie responded hugging back. After we got done hugging Charlie went to turn on his bedside lamp, before he went to crawl into bed, he saw me walk over, turn the bedroom light on, and head to the bathroom myself. Charlie just pulled the blankets up and closed his eyes. Not long after I flipped the switch in the bathroom turning the light in the bathroom off. As I crawled in by myself, I felt Charlie shift a little with muscle memory turning the lights off, leaving both of us in a dark room ready to sleep. My eyes were still shut but I rolled over and pulled Charlie in to cuddle him like he was my personal stuffed animal. Since he was facing me tonight, his face got pulled into my chest with no mercy. With only a slight shifting around he found a comfortable position and passed out.
  6. Hey all, I have a bad habit of starting stories and abandoning them. That was the case with the first story I posted here a few months ago, Mandy's Infinite Playtime. But I have a new one that I like so far, and I'm hoping sharing it here might hold me accountable to keep going with it and actually finish this time! Hope you like it. ---------------------- A BUSINESS ARRANGEMENT -- JUNE -- Jeff and Heather had been through everything together since becoming friends in high school -- helping each other through breakups, graduating together, staying in touch despite going to different colleges, and sharing in the disappointment of moving back to their hometown afterwards. But in the last few months, they'd gone through so much more than either of them could have ever predicted during those early days of friendship. They were both now 24 years old and had spent the previous 2 years living at their respective parents' houses and trying unsuccessfully to find jobs. Jeff and Heather were at a point of desperation when, hanging out in Jeff's mom's basement, they turned to Craigslist in search of job postings others might have missed. At that point, there weren't many jobs they'd have turned down if it meant moving somewhere new and starting their lives in earnest. One fateful posting, while extraordinarily cryptic, seemed to have been written purely for the pair of friends: "Seeking open-minded young man and woman for full-time, live-in employment. Must be at least 18 years old and able to commit for at least one year each. We are a married couple (52M and 48F) looking for an unconventional yet mutually beneficial arrangement with two young people. Nature of relationship will be intimate both emotionally and physically, although not necessarily sexual. More details available upon request -- no obligation to move forward until all parties are fully informed and comfortable. Room, board, and meals in a large, well-furnished home in an affluent neighborhood included, as well as a generous stipend for the right candidates. No skills or prior experience necessary, but must demonstrate patience, trust, and above all else, a willingness to be vulnerable. Contact details below." Surprisingly, it was actually Heather who led the charge to respond to the ad. "What do we have to lose by reaching out?" she asked. "It's free room and board. Plus, they sound interesting, whatever they want us to do." "Are you kidding? This sounds unbelievably sketchy," Jeff responded. "They're going to end up harvesting our organs or something." "We don't even have to meet them in person until we decide we like what they're asking for," Heather said. "We can give them fake names and use a burner email address." "I mean... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least curious to see what this could possibly be," Jeff said. "So let's do it!" Heather chirped. "Move aside, I'll write the message." There would be dozens of emails sent back and forth in the coming weeks between the young friends and their mysterious contacts. It was only in the first few messages that the older couple spelled out their intentions in no uncertain terms: The couple -- Rick and Marlene -- had always wanted children, but could never have them. They had stumbled upon the world of ageplay a few months earlier, and after an immense amount of research, decided they wanted to try it. It was important to them, however, to find partners that they could trust, and also those that they could mold according to their specific ageplay desires. For that reason, they were seeking partners exclusively from outside the existing ageplay community. They made it clear that ageplay wasn't a sexual thing for them -- rather, it was an elaborate way to experience raising young children in a controlled, informed environment without long-term responsibilities and repercussions. They acknowledged that the request was strange -- but the number they provided for the stipend, which would be paid at the end of the arrangement and scale based on its length -- was persuasive enough to make Jeff and Heather consider it anyways. There had been countless discussions and even arguments between Jeff and Heather as they learned more about the offer. Jeff had objections to virtually every detail -- but Heather knew how to persuade him. For her part, very little about the arrangement seemed to bother Heather, much to Jeff's confusion. He knew his friend was open-minded and adventurous, but her complete receptiveness to such a strange idea was surprising. After a few video calls with Rick and Marlene to verify each party was who they said they were, the four finally met at a local coffee shop -- neutral ground -- to discuss the details in earnest. Jeff and Heather sat outside. Jeff sipped from a black coffee while Heather enjoyed her caramel macchiato with a squirt of vanilla syrup. "Weird that they wanted to meet at a coffee shop," Jeff muttered. "Oh, relax," Heather said. "It's somewhere public. We can just leave if the vibe is off." "They want us to behave like infants, Heather," Jeff said. "For a year. Wouldn't they rather have us drink, I don't know, juice or something instead of coffee?" "You're overthinking it. They just want to meet us and talk things over." "I think you're underthinking it. I'm just saying, be ready to run if we have to." "Have you ever considered that maybe you'll end up liking this arrangement if it works out?" Heather asks. "Honestly, you've been fighting it at every opportunity. It's just a sweet older couple who wants somebody to take care of. And they're paying enough to set us up for years. You're literally getting paid to be pampered by rich people for a year." "Pampered is the key word," Jeff said. "I mean... diapers?" "You'll get used to it," Heather said, rolling her eyes. "Think about how convenient it'll be." "Sounds gross to me," Jeff said. "Then go home," Heather snapped. "If you're going to be negative the whole time, I'll take the money and we can find some other guy to take your place. I'll see you in a year, I guess." A few heavy seconds of silence followed. "Let's just see what they have to say," Jeff conceded. "If they even show up." Sure enough, as if on cue, Rick and Marlene approached the coffee shop hand in hand a moment later. For a couple posting something this strange -- on Craigslist of all places -- they seemed extraordinarily normal. Attractive, even. Rick looked as though, a decade or two ago, he could have been an athlete. His frame was still large for his age, but it was tempered by time, with soft, brown eyes, glasses, a full head of graying, black hair, a full, salt-and-pepper beard, and a warm smile on his face. Marlene, likewise, wore her growing wrinkles with dignity. She carried herself with a maternal presence, as if she was just waiting to go in for a hug as she approached Jeff and Heather. Her eyes were blue and her hair was a light blonde. Heather was the first to stand up out of her chair and greet them. "Hello! Rick and Marlene, right? You two are an even more beautiful couple in person," she said, making Jeff silently scoff. "Nice of you to say, sweetheart," Marlene said, sure enough going in for a hug. "Thank you both so much for meeting us here. Rick and I have been looking forward to this all week." "She's right," Rick said. "We've really enjoyed getting to know you over the last few weeks and it's great to finally meet in person." An awkward silence followed as the four people felt eachother out, the strangeness of the request that brought them together looming over them. "So... do you mind if we sit down?" Marlene asked. "Not at all," Heather said. "I'll go get us some drinks," Rick said. "Need a refill, Jeff or Heather?" "We're good," Jeff cut in. Marlene smiled warmly at the young adults as she sat down, but her face betrayed her unease as well. "This is weird, I know," Marlene finally said. "I can see you're both nervous. Trust us, we are, too." "I'm just having a hard time believing your story," Jeff said. "Jeff!" Heather scolded in a sharp whisper. "No, I get it," Marlene said. "It's quite alright. It's not like this is an everyday job offer we're making." Rick returned to the table and set a paper cup down in front of his wife. "Caramel macchiato," he said. "Hey, that's what I'm drinking, too!" Heather said. "Delicious, aren't they?" Marlene asked as she took a sip. "And what do you have there, Jeff?" "Coffee. Black," he muttered. "Me too, buddy," Rick said, smiling as he raised his own cup. "Well, that has to be a good sign, right? What are the odds?" Heather chuckled. Jeff didn't. "Well, I guess we should get down to business, huh?" Rick said. "I think we're all familiar with the offer Marlene and I are making at this point, but now that we're all meeting in person, I'm just going to go over it again to make sure there are no misunderstandings." "Sounds good," Heather said with a smile. "My wife and I are looking to take care of two adult babies for at least a year," Rick began. "The goal would be to simulate the experience of a family with two young kids as accurately as possible, while respecting the reality that you are adults with your own boundaries and autonomy. Consent is extremely important to us, and while we would aim to take care of you in virtually every way possible and completely take your agency out of the equation, we would tailor our approach for each of you according to your comfort level." Rick and Jeff locked eyes for a moment. Rick could sense Jeff's distrust, just as Jeff could tell Rick had rehearsed this speech. "So, for example, it seems that Jeff has a few more hangups about relinquishing control than Heather does," Rick continued carefully. "We could work around that, within reason. Maybe we treat Jeff as the big brother with a bit more autonomy than Heather." Jeff's eyebrows raised in curiosity, caught off guard. "What did you have in mind?" Jeff asked. "We were thinking this through, and one scenario we had in mind is that Jeff is 5 or 6 years old and Heather is 1 or 2," Marlene chimed in. "If you're both comfortable with that, of course. So, for example, Heather might sleep in a crib while Jeff sleeps in a big-boy bed." Jeff visibly cringed at Marlene's juvenile word choice, but quickly regained his composure. "Go on," he said. "We do have some non-negotiables," Rick said. "After we agree on rules at the start of this arrangement, we expect those rules to be followed. You are to defer to our authority as if we really were your parents. In the most extreme case, both parties reserve the right to cancel the arrangement at any time, but if the agreement is canceled because you fail to hold up your end, you forfeit the rest of your stipend." "This is all sounding very official," Jeff said. "I'm a lawyer," Marlene said. "I've written up a legally binding contract to this effect. But trust me, the last thing we'd ever want to do is go to court over this. That's why we're doing so much vetting before moving forward -- we need to find the right people and be sure as we can that this is going to work." "As discussed, in return for lasting the full year, you'll each receive $250,000," Rick said. "We'll pay for all expenses while you stay with us, and if all parties are willing, we're also open to discussions about prolonging the agreement in exchange for even more money." "This all sounds amazing, guys," Heather said. "We're honored you'd even consider us. But just so we're all completely clear, could you give us a bit more detail about what the day to day would look like for something like this? Jeff and I have had some trouble picturing exactly what you mean by 'adult baby'." "Sure," Rick said. "But before getting into it, I'll say again that most of this is negotiable. We'll agree on specific expectations with each of you if we decide to move forward." Rick took a deep breath before continuing. "Marlene and I were hoping that at least one of you would be a true baby," he said, looking at Heather. "That would, of course, mean wearing diapers at all times as well as using them. But it would also mean a lot more -- we'd expect you to communicate like a baby would. That doesn't mean you'd have to stop talking altogether, but think short words and sentences and a lot of nonverbal communication. You would also sleep in a crib, eat in a highchair, play with baby toys, wear baby clothes... all that good stuff. The idea would be that you'd depend on Marlene and I to do nearly everything for you." "Uh... wow," Heather said after a moment. It was the first time she'd shown true signs of hesitation. Jeff couldn't help but smile, sure that she was about to pull out and go home. He opened his mouth to get the rejection started. "I don't know, that seems a little --" "I think I can manage that," Heather interjected, sending Jeff's eyebrows skyward. "As we mentioned, we're willing to set different rules for you, Jeff," Marlene said. "We're picturing you as mostly potty-trained, with maybe a few pee-pee accidents here and there. You'd probably fluctuate between Pull-Ups and big-boy undies most of the time." Again, this sent Jeff into a full-body cringe. "You'd still spend a lot of your time playing with toys, watching cartoons, and dressing like a little kid. We'd supervise you quite a bit while you're playing and make sure you don't do, see, or say anything too age-inappropriate. But we'd also trust you to do things like sit at the kitchen table in a normal chair, sleep in a bed, and maybe even use the potty by yourself." Jeff sat in silence, dumbfounded, trying to decide whether these two were serious. He opened his mouth to begin his long, certain rejection, but once again, Heather interrupted. "Do you mind if Jeff and I talk about this in private for a minute?" she asked. "Not at all," Rick said. "Come on, honey, let's go get a refill." Rick and Marlene left the table and headed into the coffee shop. "Look, I know this is crazier than we expected," Heather said to Jeff. "Did you hear that number, though? $250,000 apiece? Think about that. That's more than either of us will make in a decade. Isn't that worth a year of humiliation which we'll probably get used to and stop even thinking about within a few weeks?" "I don't want to get used to it," Jeff said. "These people are insane. This is probably some kind of hidden camera reality show and everyone we know is going to see us acting like babies." "Hey, it sounds like I'm going to be the baby, not you," Heather responded. "They're not going to make you shit yourself or get fed in a highchair. Dude, it's basically just an acting gig for you, I'm doing the hard part." Jeff paused. "I know," he said. "You're right." "So will you do this? Please? For me?" He didn't answer right away. "Look, we can give it a try, and if it goes really bad, we just break the contract," Heather reasoned. "We don't lose anything except a little time and dignity by doing that, and let's face it, right now we have time to spare and no dignity to lose." "Fine," Jeff muttered. "For you." Heather hugged him tight, nearly knocking him out of his chair. "You're the best," she said. "Don't worry. A year isn't that long, and then we can do whatever the hell we want. And we'll be in this together." "You're crazy, you know that?" "Totally." -- AUGUST -- Marlene was overjoyed. There had been a few early hiccups, but this idea she had developed with her husband that seemed unthinkable just a few months ago had gone well beyond her expectations. Having Jeff and Heather in the house made her feel fulfilled for the first time in years -- having someone to love and care for who truly needed her. For her, the strangeness of treating two adults like infants wore off rather quickly, though she suspected it was still present with the men. As supportive as he had been, Rick had shown many signs of discomfort and even voiced second thoughts once or twice. But then, what new parents don't do that? Meanwhile, as expected, Heather had proven far more receptive to the arrangement than Jeff. He would ultimately fall in line, but much of the time, put up a fight every step of the way. Still, there were rare moments when he truly seemed to be enjoying his new life -- snuggling up with Marlene on the couch while watching a kids' movie, getting deep into a project with his building blocks, or, his favorite, teasing his baby sister. But by and large, for Marlene, this new life was the best thing that ever happened to her. She had woken up with a smile on her face once again, and looked over to see Rick still asleep. She tried to sneak out of bed without disturbing him, but didn't succeed. "Morning," Rick moaned. "Sorry," Marlene replied. "I was just slipping away to go check on the kids." "Ugh, let them sleep," Rick replied without opening his eyes. "I hate it when they're cranky." "I'm not gonna wake them, I just want to... I don't know, look at them," she said. "You didn't want to wake me either, but here we are." Marlene rolled her eyes as she left the bedroom and walked down the long, opulent hallway to Heather's nursery. She wore a silky, lavender nightgown that highlighted her tight figure and curves, which were rather impressive for her age. Rick loved it. She turned the knob on Heather's door as gingerly as she could, successfully opening it without so much as a creak. She looked around the room, silently congratulating herself on her decorating skills. The nursery was her lovingly made masterpiece, featuring the mainstay furniture like an oversized crib, changing table, rocking chair, and bouncer, a veritable mountain of colorful toys and stuffed animals, and adorable decals lining the walls. Everything was color-coordinated in pink and white, and Heather had reported several times how much she loved her bedroom -- how it kept her in the baby mindset, which she was growing to truly enjoy. Marlene quietly entered the room and sat on the rocking chair, admiring Heather sleeping in the middle of her crib as daylight poured through the windows of the nursery. Her straight, tan hair, like always these days, was styled in pigtails. She was clutching a white teddy bear against her chest, which contrasted with her full-body, purple, footed pajamas. Marlene waited in the chair, her heart warm as she watched Heather sleep. She had done this on several mornings during the last few weeks, silently taking in the beautiful sight for as long as Heather would allow her before waking up naturally. It was her favorite part of the day now -- the most peaceful. But soon enough, as she always did, Heather gently roused herself awake. Marlene smiled as Heather stretched out her arms and legs with a yawn without managing to reach any of the bars of her gigantic crib. Marlene had spared no expense in ensuring it made Heather look as small as possible in comparison. "Good morning, sweetheart," Marlene said quietly. Heather's eyes drifted open and fell upon Marlene. It wasn't a shock anymore after she'd woken up this way a dozen times or so. "Hi," she yawned. Marlene stood up from her chair and walked over to the side of the crib, and Heather looked on as she lowered the bars. "Sleep good?" Marlene asked as she unzipped Heather's pajamas. Heather closed her eyes and nodded. "Still sleepy," she muttered. Marlene carefully slipped Heather's legs out of the pajamas one by one, noticing that the girl was still wearing her socks. She laughed and shook her head. "Well I can see Daddy got you ready for bed last night, didn't he?" she asked. "He always forgets my sockies," Heather said. "Can you sit up for me, hun?" Marlene asked, and with a tired groan, Heather complied. "Good girl." She worked Heather's arms and shoulders out of the pajamas, leaving the young woman naked besides her socks -- and of course, her thick, plastic-backed diaper, printed with colorful rattles and teddy bears. Nowadays, Heather didn't mind her new parents or even Jeff seeing her naked. It happened multiple times each day and was painfully awkward at first, but now, she was simply used to it. There were even some particularly hot days when Marlene and Rick would decide to keep her in only her diaper for the entire day. Her nudity had become so common that Heather sometimes preferred it -- she sometimes took it upon herself to take off her clothes and toddle around in just her diaper, much to Rick and Marlene's amusement. Likewise, Heather had gotten used to diaper changes, although these were still uncomfortable at times. Still, she had come a long way from the outright hysterics a change would send her into just two months ago. Marlene sat down on the edge of the crib next to Heather. She didn't need to feel the front of the girl's diaper to know she had wet herself, as she did most nights these days. Marlene patted her own lap with her hand, which wordlessly signaled Heather to lie across her legs on her stomach for easy access to the back of her diaper. "No poopies," Marlene sang as she pressed a hand against the seat. "Do you have to go, sweetheart?" "Yeah," Heather said. "I think so." "Okay, go ahead." Heather climbed off Marlene's lap and stepped onto the carpet of the nursery, her back to Marlene. She yawned again as she slightly crouched in place, and within a few moments, Marlene watched as Heather's diaper quickly expanded to accommodate her morning mess. An odor just slightly permeated the room, but the floral-scented, plug-in air fresheners Marlene had added to the nursery mostly hid it. After a few more pushes, Heather sighed and stood back upright. "All done," she said. "Good girl," Marlene praised. "Come on, let's go get you into the tubby and clean you up." Rick had gotten out of bed and dressed himself in a green button-down shirt. With his beard and glasses, he looked particularly like a math teacher today. Passing the bathroom, he saw his wife lovingly washing off a naked Heather in the tub. "Morning, girls," he said. "Sleep well, baby?" Heather was too busy playing with a pink toy boat to acknowledge him with anything more than a "Hi". "She just made a great, big, stinky diapie," Marlene said, tickling Heather's exposed stomach. "Didn't she? Didn't she?" "Stooooppppp!" Heather squealed as she collapsed into laughter. Rick just smiled and proceeded to Jeff's room. He and Marlene had also put quite a bit of time and money into his bedroom, although it didn't call for the same level of specialized furniture as Heather's nursery did. Looking around the space, Jeff saw every 5-year-old boy's dream bedroom. The back wall was covered in a full-size mural of outer space, and the twin bed immediately in front of it was shaped like a spaceship. All manner of toys lined the room, with the many LEGO creations Jeff had made over the last two months displayed prominently on the dresser and bookcase. He had a desk with crayons, safety scissors, and construction paper waiting on top of it, as well as a large rocking chair in the corner, similar to Heather's. Unlike Heather's room, however, this room also had a TV and a video game console -- however, the console came with only a few games geared toward children, and the TV was severely restricted by parental controls. The difference, of course, was that the boy sleeping in the bed was, in truth, far older than 5. But you wouldn't know by looking at him. He wore a pajama top with a cartoon character on it, and his underwear -- small briefs that held tight against the outline of his dick -- was similarly decorated with bright colors and playful figures. Marlene had located and ordered Jeff a whole line of this childish underwear in a size that would fit him, much to Jeff's disappointment, and they had become his default unless Marlene or Rick saw fit to put him in Pull-Ups instead. "Rise and shine, little buddy," Rick announced. Jeff responded with a whine, turning over on the bed and hiding his head with a pillow. "C'mon Jeffy, time to wake up," Rick said, approaching the bed. "Mommy's finishing up with your sister's bath and then we'll go have some breakfast." "Five more minutes," Jeff muttered from under the pillow. Rick peered back out into the bathroom and saw that the girls seemed to be having fun in the tub, and saw no reason to rush them along to breakfast. "Alright, fine, five more minutes," Rick said. "But you better not pee your bed again, okay?" "It was one time, let it go!" Jeff protested. Rick and Marlene had agreed with Jeff that he could freely use the toilet, but on one condition: he had to ask one of the adults whenever he needed to go, and they would wait just outside the bathroom as he went, ready to render any aid he might require. Jeff continued to be quite resistant to this policy. One morning, he proved so stubborn about asking to use the toilet that his bladder got the best of him, and he wet the bed. He wore Pull-Ups for two weeks after that. A few minutes passed, and Marlene walked a towel-clad Heather back down the hall to the nursery, leaving the bathroom free. When Rick returned to Jeff's room, he was already awake and ready for his turn in the bathroom. A few minutes more, and all four of them were dressed for the day and convened at the kitchen table for breakfast. Jeff, dressed by Rick in a striped t-shirt and shorts, looked at the plate in front of him: a bowl of colorful cereal in the center, surrounded by toast with jam, sliced fruit, and a glass of orange juice. For all the humiliation he had to suffer during this arrangement, he couldn't deny that Rick and Marlene took good care of him. He never ate this well during his adult life. Looking across the table at Heather, he felt sympathy that her breakfast wasn't as palatable. The young woman was dressed in a pink onesie that just barely revealed the fringes of her diaper through the legholes and sat in an oversized highchair. She enjoyed more-or-less the same breakfast every morning: a jar of mushy baby food spoonfed to her by Rick, a sliced-up banana, and a baby bottle full of milk. Still, while her meal seemed bleak compared to Jeff's, Heather didn't seem to mind. If the taste of baby food bothered her, it didn't show on her face. She happily and greedily lapped up the baby food from each spoonful and never complained. "Such a good little eater," Rick praised as he fed her another spoonful. "Eat your fruit too, honey," Marlene told Jeff. "Too much of that cereal without any substance isn't good for you, even if it's tasty." Jeff looked at her, but didn't respond, putting an apple slice into his mouth and returning to his meal. "I was thinking maybe we could go to the park this afternoon," Marlene said. "Maybe have a little picnic." Jeff audibly groaned, attracting a sharp look from Rick. "Do we really have to go out in public like this again?" Jeff protested. "Jeff..." Rick warned. "I mean, Heather and I have been pretty patient with all the stuff you want to do to us behind closed doors, right?" Jeff said. "It's so humiliating for others to see us in little kid clothes." "Heather, how do you feel about this?" Rick asked. The adult baby girl shrugged her shoulders. "It's fine," she said. "I like being outside." Jeff rolled his eyes. "Jeff, the rest of the family wants to go to the park," Rick said. "Stop saying we're a family," Jeff snapped. "This is a business arrangement and you all know it." Marlene's eyes sunk and a frown crept across her face. "We ARE a family for the next year," Rick said sternly. "Have some respect for Mommy and I. And don't forget that our 'business arrangement' can be ended at any time." Now, Heather glared at Jeff. Her face conveyed a clear message: Shut up. Don't blow this for us. "We're going to the park and having a picnic," Rick stated. "And that's final. Finish your breakfast and then you two can have some playtime while Mommy and I put some sandwiches together." When her jar and bottle were empty, Rick gingerly helped Heather out of the highchair while Marlene stood up and collected the dirty plates. Jeff and Heather headed into the living room, which had become their playroom over the last two months, while Rick and Marlene got to work in the kitchen. Heather wasted no time in kneeling down on the floor and playing with her dollhouse. Jeff just sat on the couch, his arms crossed, looking at his diapered, onesie-bound friend as if she were a stranger. "How are you so comfortable with all of this?" he asked. "You're acting like this isn't weird." "Of course it's weird," Heather said. "But it's really not so bad. Some parts of it I kind of like now." "Look at yourself," Jeff said. "Look how you're dressed. Look what you're playing with." "So what? They're just dolls. It's supposed to be fun. You like playing with your LEGOs, don't you?" "I do it because I don't know how else to make this year pass any faster," he said. "You don't think I'd rather be having a beer, watching a football game, or, hell, even mowing the lawn or something?" "You're being dramatic," Heather said. "Maybe your problem is you're always focusing on getting through the year instead of just trying to get used to things and embrace the reality of the moment." "Maybe your problem is you're forgetting that you're an adult woman and not a fucking baby." "Oh, I remember completely," she responded. "I remember that I'm broke, and that $250,000 is a lot of money." "You know what I think?" Jeff said, standing up off the couch. "I think you actually like all this. You have the same sick fetish Rick and Marlene do." "Well, I don't hate it, if you must know," Heather said. "What's not to like? I don't have to worry about anything besides being cute. I've had a pretty happy two months. Maybe you'd be happy, too, if you just let yourself and stop fighting everybody all the time." Suddenly, Heather's stomach made a loud, growling noise. She bent forward and clutched her stomach, a look of discomfort on her face. "How about that, if you're asking what's not to like?" Jeff asked, knowingly. Heather's one complaint, which she often spoke about to Jeff in private, was her new diet's effect on her stomach. She didn't particularly mind the taste of baby food, but since it became a staple of her meals, it was not uncommon for her to mess herself as often as three or four times per day. While she was getting used to them out of necessity, Heather still didn't enjoy messy diapers -- or even wet ones, for that matter. "I can handle it," she said as she continued to play with her dolls. "It's not the end of the world." "Sure hope it doesn't happen at the park today," Jeff said. "Sure would be a shame if somebody you know walked by and saw you dressed like a baby wearing a shitty diaper." "Why are you trying to make me feel bad about this?" Heather asked. "You realize I have it way worse than you, right? You're complaining to the wrong person. A lot of people would kill to get paid $250,000 to be treated like a 5-year-old. Your situation isn't even that humiliating." "I'm so sick of you rationalizing everything," Jeff said, stepping closer to the dollhouse. "It's like I don't even know you anymore." Heather opted not to respond, and simply focused on her dolls. Incensed, Jeff abruptly kicked the dollhouse, causing one of its walls to cave in and sending one of Heather's dolls flying across the room. "And I'm sick of these stupid baby toys!" he exclaimed. "Dude!" Heather cried, throwing up her arms. "Get a grip! For someone resisting all of this so hard, you're sure acting like a spoiled, 5-year-old brat!" "What are you gonna do?" Jeff said, taking on a sarcastic, mocking tone. "Get me in trouble?" "You know what? Yeah, I think I will," Heather said. Without another word, Heather opened her mouth and began to wail at the top of her lungs. "Shut up," Jeff muttered. "Shut up!" Heather yelled out in faux anguish, turning her face red. Within seconds, Rick and Marlene had entered the living room. Marlene raced over to Heather's side to comfort her while Rick surveyed the room -- and spotted the broken dollhouse. "What happened here?" Rick demanded. "Jeff hurt my dolly!" Heather cried. "Oh, sweetie, it's okay," Marlene soothed, hugging Heather tight. "Jeff, how many times have we told you to stop picking on Heather?" Rick said sternly. "Look at this dollhouse, it's broken! Do you know how much this cost?" "Oh, whatever," Jeff said, crossing his arms against his chest. "She's being a baby." "She IS a baby," Rick said. "Is that the kind of person you want to be, Jeff? Bullying a baby? You may want to pretend you're an adult, but you show us every day what an infant you are on the inside." "Jeff..." Marlene interjected, still coddling Heather. "Why did you even agree to this if you're going to resist every step of the way? It's like you WANT to break your contract." "I... I didn't want Heather to have to go through this alone," Jeff said. "So you're doing this because you care about your friend, and you're going to demonstrate that by breaking her things and making her cry?" Marlene asked. "We've been over this a dozen times, Jeff," Rick said. "Marlene and I have been nothing but fair to you. We've followed every word of the contract you signed. Heather has clearly found a way to enjoy her new life. Why can't you?" "I..." Jeff began. Nothing else followed for a few seconds. "I want to. I just... can't. I can't convince myself that being treated like a little kid is normal like Heather can." "Well, do you want to break your contract?" Marlene asked. "Leave here with nothing, leave Heather behind, and pretend none of this ever happened?" "...No," Jeff said. "Maybe. I don't know. If I could somehow find a way to make it all feel normal, I would. I just... don't know if I can pretend for a full year." Rick and Marlene exchanged a glance, as if tacitly making a decision among themselves. "Well, I think we have an idea," Marlene said. "But it's a little drastic." "What do you mean?" Jeff asked. "Are you familiar with hypnosis?" -- OCTOBER -- They say that hypnosis only truly takes hold if the subject is willing to be influenced, and if that's true, Jeff must have earnestly meant what he said about wanting to be comfortable with ageplay. It only took about two weeks of listening to the recordings Marlene had found online for Jeff to stop complaining about his day-to-day treatment as well as stop referencing the arrangement altogether. By mid-September, Rick and Marlene saw an entirely different person when they entered Jeff's bedroom each morning to wake him. There was one catch, though. The recordings Marlene had found focused heavily on the potty-training aspect of rewiring the subject's brain to that of a 5-year-old. As a result, Jeff's bladder control had started to slip. It was no longer particularly uncommon for Jeff to wake up in a wet bed, or even accidentally wet himself during the day if Rick and Marlene weren't immediately available to take him to the bathroom. To make matters worse, Jeff's conditioning made him desire nothing more than to wear "big-boy undies". He was forced to wear Pull-Ups more and more often, and that was his main source of tantrums and complaints nowadays. Meanwhile, without constant reminders from Jeff of her adult life, Heather seemed to grow more and more comfortable as an adult baby. She no longer felt embarrassed during diaper changes and had become more content each day with the idea of relying on Rick and Marlene for even the simplest things. But, deep in her heart of hearts, Heather was concerned about Jeff. For her part, she knew she was still very much in control of her true, adult side -- she was simply becoming better-versed in the role she was playing. She hadn't experienced any true loss of bladder or bowel control, and still had to deliberately try to use her diapers. Jeff, on the other hand, had responded so well to the hypnosis that Heather wasn't sure he was just acting anymore. When he would wet himself, he seemed truly upset, as if it really was an accident. And, as hard to admit to herself as it was, Heather missed his trademark cynicism. He was so agreeable nowadays that it just didn't feel like the real Jeff anymore. Would he be able to go back to the person he was -- the person Heather called her best friend -- when this arrangement concluded? Heather thought about this as she sat at the breakfast table, accepting a spoonful of baby food from Marlene while looking across the table at Jeff. He was excitedly tearing through a stack of pancakes with chocolate chips arranged into a smiley face on the top. "I'm so excited for our big day," Marlene said. "Nervous, but excited." "It's certainly going to be eye-opening," Rick said, drinking his coffee. "I just hope everyone is normal." Marlene looked at Rick with one of her expressive smirks that managed to convey whole thoughts without a single word. They're not going to be "normal," she communicated. They're ageplayers like us. There's nothing normal about it. Rick just chuckled to himself, picking up every word. "You're right, you're right," he said. "Maybe I could make a friend and he could come over and play video games with me," Jeff mused. "That'd be nice, sweetie," Marlene said. "Daddy and I are hoping to make some friends, too. This will really be our first time meeting other people in this community. I bet we can learn a lot." Rick looked over at Heather as she ate in her highchair. Her breasts, a scoop of errant baby food resting atop one of them, were on full display, as was her bulky diaper. "Someone's going to have to get dressed before we go out and meet anybody," Rick said with a smile. "It's a shame, but you're right," Marlene said. "Mommy's little jaybird is so cute in just her diapie." Heather giggled to herself. She was discovering that there was something oddly appealing about being talked about as if she wasn't right there in the room. "It sounds like there's going to be a pretty big turnout at this place," Marlene said. "It's this group of ageplayers who meet at a different house each month, and the RSVP list had something like 20 or 25 people on it." "Cool!" Jeff exclaimed. "I just hope it's not all dumb babies. I wanna meet some other big kids." Jeff took another bite of his pancakes when a look of realization came over his face. "Uhm... Do I have to wear Pull-Ups to the party today?" he asked bashfully. "Afraid so, buddy," Rick said. "You know the rules. You're in Pull-Ups for at least a day after you have an accident." "Oh, come on," Jeff whined. "That's such a dumb rule. I had to go pee, you weren't around to take me to the potty, and I get punished for it?" "Chin up, kiddo," Marlene said. "I'm sure all the littles will be in either Pull-Ups or diapers." "Fine," Jeff pouted. "Anybody in particular you'd like to meet today, baby girl?" Marlene asked, feeding Heather the last scoop of her breakfast. "Mmmm... iunno," Heather said. "Someone nice, I guess." "Who could be mean to you, cutie pie?" Rick said. "I bet you won't have any trouble making friends." "I bet we can make you even cuter," Marlene said, cleaning Heather off with a napkin and helping her out of the highchair. "Come on, pumpkin, let's go upstairs and get you dressed into something pretty." "Okay," Heather said, taking Marlene's hand and following her upstairs. As he watched the two women walk away, Rick's nose picked up a slight odor, and he noticed the back of Heather's diaper drooping a bit lower than usual. "Marlene..." Rick called out. "Yes?" she responded. "I think she might need more than just a change of clothes." Marlene gently grasped Heather's shoulder and turned her around to face her back. She stuck a finger in the back of the waistband of Heather's diaper, slightly pulled it out, and peered inside. "Wow," Marlene said. "You're right. When did you go poopy, honey?" "Just now," Heather said nonchalantly. "Good girl," Marlene said. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Jeff and Rick chatted about the day ahead while finishing their breakfast. The two men got along far better these days and seemed to be truly enjoying eachother's company. When they were finished, Jeff followed Rick into the kitchen to continue their conversation while Rick cleaned the dishes. Soon enough, Marlene and Heather returned downstairs. Rick stopped what he was doing as soon as he lay eyes on Heather, who now wore a sparkly pink dress with matching ribbons tying her pigtails in place. Her fresh diaper was clearly visible beneath the hem of the dress. "Princess, you look absolutely adorable," Rick said. "Thanks," Heather said with a bashful smile. In truth, despite everything she had dealt with in the last four months, being dressed this way and knowing she was going out to meet new people in this getup still embarrassed her. But she couldn't deny that she did, in fact, look adorable. "I was waiting for a special occasion to break out this dress," Marlene said. "I'm so glad it fits her." About an hour later, Marlene looked backwards from the passenger seat of Rick's Jeep to look at her two adult children: Jeff, wearing his usual graphic t-shirt and brightly colored shorts, who was looking thoughtfully out the window, and Heather, strapped into an oversized carseat and enjoying a nap, her mouth hanging slightly open against the cushion behind her. They would arrive at the party soon, and Marlene hoped Heather wouldn't be cranky after being woken up. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as Marlene remembered where they were going: their first-ever ageplay meetup. She didn't know the host, although they had exchanged a few messages to go over the details. This group was large and dedicated, most of them meeting up at least once every month or so at one of their houses. The setting for today's party sounded like a mansion, which seemed more and more likely as the car meandered through increasingly large houses after entering the neighborhood. When they arrived at their destination, it looked from the outside as though this was a baby shower or a gender reveal party. Pastel pink and blue balloons were anchored to the mailbox, and a little card with a diaper and a pacifier on it was stuck onto the front. "Head to the backyard," the card read, with an arrow pointing to a gate. Heather made a face as Rick helped her out of the carseat, but didn't protest. Jeff seemed shy as he got out of the car -- he wasn't speaking, yet seemed on-edge. "You okay, Jeffy?" Marlene asked. "Yeah," he said. "Just nervous I guess." "It's okay, me too," Marlene said. "We're all going to have fun, though. These are our people." Jeff and Heather exchanged a look -- were they, at this point, now considered "these people"? They certainly looked the part, regardless of the circumstances that brought them there. Opening the gate to the backyard did little to settle their nerves. They weren't sure what to expect, but it was certainly nothing as overwhelming as what they saw. About two dozen sets of eyes suddenly snapped to Jeff, Heather, Marlene, and Rick as they stood at the gate, a roughly even mix of bigs and littles. It was a remarkably diverse group, representing all ages, genders, and races, all of whom were united by their similar, peculiar interests. There was a large bouncy castle and jungle gym set up in the backyard, both bustling with adults dressed like infants. Several of them were completely naked besides their diapers, much to Rick and Marlene's surprise -- apparently, Heather didn't need to get dressed this morning after all. Their attention quickly shifted away from the new arrivals and back to playing. It was a bizarre, yet strangely peaceful, scene to see this many adults freely indulging in this part of themselves. Arranged along tables next to a banquet table full of food were the bigs, who also ran the demographic gamut. They dutifully watched their littles play and chatted amongst themselves while eating hot dogs and hamburgers, just like real parents at a cookout. "Marlene!" a skinny, blonde woman who looked to be in her 40s or 50s called out from one of the tables. She stood up and began walking toward the gate. "Marlene, right?" "Yeah!" Marlene responded. "Jessie?" "You got it!" Jessie said. "So glad you could make it -- it's so nice to finally meet you in person!" She turned her attention to Rick, then to Heather and Jeff. "You must be Rick," she said, shaking his hand. "Oh, and the kiddos! Jeff and Heather, right? Heather, I love your pretty princess dress!" "Thanks," Heather squeaked, partially hiding herself behind Rick. "Pleasure to meet you," Rick said, shaking Jessie's hand. "We appreciate the invite. Beautiful house!" Jessie smiled at Rick, then turned her attention back to Jeff and Heather. "Hey, why don't you guys go play with the other kids?" she said, pointing toward the jungle gym. "Everyone here is super friendly and they can't wait to meet you. Me and Mommy and Daddy are going to be right over here talking about boring grown-up stuff, but if you need anything at all, just let any of us know!" Jeff and Heather looked at Marlene uneasily. "It's okay," she reassured. "Go ahead -- have some fun!" "I guess we're really doing this, huh?" Jeff said as he and Heather walked slowly toward the jungle gym. "Guess so," Heather said. "Just... try to be optimistic. It might be nice to talk with some people who know what we're going through." "Do we tell them we're being paid to do this?" Jeff asked. "I'm guessing these are all people who actually want to live this way." "I don't think it really matters," Heather said. "I say we just try to match their energy and blend in." "I'll try," Jeff said. "Just... lean into that hypnosis," she said. "It's done wonders for you so far." Jeff glared at Heather as if she had crossed a line and he was deciding whether to snap at her. He knew that the hypnosis had definitely changed his personality so far, but it was still a touchy subject that he didn't like to talk about. It was a choice he made strictly to make his life at home easier, but he dearly hoped that he could go back to normal at the end of the year. Suddenly, Jeff felt a hard tap on his back. "Tag!" a voice behind him called out. "You're it!" He and Heather turned around to see a skinny, tattooed man around their age running away from them. He wore only a diaper, which sagged low and yellowed beneath his waist, obviously soaked. "I guess you're it," Heather said with a smile before running in the other direction. It didn't take long before Rick and Marlene had met all the other bigs in the ageplay group, and within 30 minutes or so, they were talking as though they'd known each other for years. "Yeah, Jeff was a terror before he started hypnosis," Rick described to the group between bites of a burger. "We didn't think it would make a difference, but it really, really did. He barely ever fights us at all anymore and finally seems happy in his new life." "Is he still on it?" asked Will, one of the other bigs who had just talked about using hypnosis to condition his adult baby girl into associating using her diapers with sexual arousal. "Yes, but we think it's just maintenance at this point," Marlene said. "It's a three-month program and we're a little more than two months in. We're wondering if he'll start to backslide once he's not listening to the recordings overnight anymore." "If he's responded this well to it, I doubt it," Jessie chimed in. "That stuff tends to be really hard to break once it takes hold. I'm jealous of you guys -- I tried hypnosis with Sarah and she didn't respond to it at all." "What were you trying to get her to do?" Will asked. "Mess in her sleep," she answered. "It was really just an experiment to see if it would work for us." A few of the bigs laughed, and a lull in the conversation followed as they all ate another few bites. Marlene looked toward the bouncy castle and jungle gym, searching for an update on what Jeff and Heather were doing. Heather appeared to be having the time of her life, jumping up and down in the bouncy castle with a few of the other littles and laughing at full volume. With every jump, her dress flew upward, fully revealing her diaper. Marlene squinted, trying to discern whether she might need a change from across the yard, but couldn't get a great look with all the motion happening. Meanwhile, she spotted Jeff, sitting on top of the jungle gym with his legs dangling off the side. He was calmly sitting and chatting with a young brunette, dressed in a white t-shirt and pink shorts. Whatever they were talking about, they seemed to be hitting it off. "Who's that cute girl Jeff is talking to over there?" Marlene asked aloud at the table. "Oh, that's our Lily," one of the men said. "Hi, I'm Lee and this is my husband George." "Pleasure to meet you both!" Rick said. "They definitely seem to be getting along." George chuckled to himself. "I bet I know what they're talking about," he said. Jeff and Lily truly were hitting it off. They seemed to be the only two littles at the party who weren't visibly wearing diapers. "So that's your sister?" Lily said, pointing to Heather in the bouncy castle. Jeff cringed at that description. "Uhm... kind of," he responded. "Let's go with best friend instead." "That's cool," Lily said. "I wish I had a kind-of sister." "Do you hang out with this crowd often?" Jeff asked. Lily rolled her eyes in response. "Unfortunately," she said. "My Daddies drag me out to one of these parties every month. I keep telling them that I don't want to hang out with a bunch of dumb babies, but they don't listen." Lily stole a close look at Jeff, surveying him up and down, doing her best to be subtle about it. "It's kinda nice to have another big kid to talk to," she said. "What are things like for you at home?" Jeff asked. "Probably about the same as you," she said. "My Daddies take care of me and make sure I don't have to deal with grown-up stuff. It gets lonely sometimes, though." "How did you meet your Daddies?" Jeff asked. "How'd you get into this lifestyle?" "We were friends for years," Lily said. "I used to work with Lee, believe it or not. I used to be an architect. But you know how it is -- I always had this fetish since I was a teenager, and one day I decided I wanted to stop wasting time and pursue it, and somehow it turned out that Lee and his husband were willing to pursue it with me. Go figure." "Any regrets?" Jeff asked. "No, not really," she said. "Except maybe that my Daddies got into the ageplay community as much as they have. I kind of like to keep my little girl side behind closed doors, you know?" "Trust me, I know," Jeff said. "I also miss sex," she said, making Jeff's eyebrows raise. "Sorry. Too much information." "No, you're good, I hear you on that," he said. Suddenly, Jeff was picturing what Lily must look like naked. He missed sex, too. Sure, he had found time to masturbate late at night when Marlene and Rick were asleep, but doing it in a Pull-Up or childish underwear always made it feel weird. He felt his dick tighten from inside his Pull-Up as dirty thoughts clouded his mind, and he did his best to make sure his erection wasn't obvious. He wanted to get to know Lily better, but at the moment, he couldn't help himself from prying further into her sex life (or lack thereof). "I'm guessing you don't really get any of that kind of attention from your Daddies?" Jeff asked. "Nope," she answered with a chuckle. "They dress me and give me baths, but that's about all the touching I get." "No diapers?" Jeff asked. Lily responded by unbuttoning her shorts and slightly lowering one side, revealing a pink garment. "Pull-Ups," she said. Jeff smiled and did the same, revealing the waistband of his blue briefs. "Me too," he said. "Well look at that," Lily said. "We match." "Do you like them?" "Honestly? Love them. They remind me that I'm just a little girl even when I'm trying to act like a grown-up. And I love the feeling of being wet. At least most of the time. I've been noticing my bladder control slipping for real which has been a little scary." "Same here," Jeff said. "I've been waking up in the morning wet more and more often and I don't know how to feel about it." "When did you know you wanted to live life as a little boy?" Lily asked. It was a tough question to answer. Jeff didn't know how she would react to finding out this was just a job for him. "Well... recently," he said. "I'm still getting used to it, to be honest." "It seems like you have a good thing going," she replied. "A Mommy, a Daddy, and a little sister? A lot of ageplayers would kill for a setup like that." "I'm just glad Heather is doing all this with me," Jeff said. "It'd be a lot harder without her." "She's a full-time baby, it seems?" "Yup. And Marlene and Rick take things pretty far with her." "Marlene and Rick? Is that your Mommy and Daddy?" "Uhm... yeah," Jeff said. "She's got a nursery and isn't allowed to use the potty for anything. Eats baby food, wears baby clothes, the whole nine yards." "That's nice, if she's into that," Lily said. "I tried that life before, but I just can't get comfortable being quite that helpless. I think what I have now with my Daddies is a good fit for me." "Hey... do you maybe want to come over sometime?" Jeff asked. "Like you said, it's nice to have another big kid to talk with." Lily looked at Jeff and smiled. "I'd like that," she said. "I'll ask my Daddies about setting up a... 'playdate.'" She winked as she emphasized playdate, sending Jeff's mind racing. Could that mean what he thought it meant? Lily started giggling to herself, breaking Jeff out of his thoughts. "What's so funny?" he asked. "Sorry," she said with a smile. "I just wet myself. It always makes me laugh for some reason." Lily stood up atop the jungle gym. As he looked up at her, Jeff saw a patch of wetness forming along the seat of her shorts. "Shit," Lily said. "Leaking again. I better go tell my Daddies." She leaned down to Jeff's level and, much to his surprise, kissed him on the cheek. "Bye, Jeff," Lily said. "Really nice to meet you." And with that, she launched herself down the slide. Jeff watched, rock-hard within his Pull-Up, as she toddled over to Lee and George.
  7. Warning I promised with my last story that I would post a short warning before I posted the first chapter. As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established Diaper Dimension. These include, but are not limited to: Diapers Using Diapers for Their Intended Purpose Non-consensual Mental Regression through Various Means (Including Possible Drugs, Hypnosis, and or Surgery) Graphic Imagery Associated With Any of These Warnings Humiliation Female Domination Babying of adults Violence (pertaining to weapons, assault, or harm of others) For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy this story.
  8. “Let’s go champ!” Robert called out, impatiently waiting by the front door as he waited for Chris. “But Daddy!” Chris called out, waddling into the entryway, still half dressed. “I just made pushies!” Robert let out a sigh, putting his jacket down before quickly heading over to Chris, tucking his shirt into his waistband before starting to adjust his collar. “I know, bud. But we’re going to be late!” Robert said, guiding Chris towards the front door in an effort to get his shoes on. “But- but I can’t go out like this!” Chris protested, sitting down in his own filth as Robert lifted each foot, sliding on his shoes. “We can get you changed once we’re there. But we need to leave, like 10 minutes ago,” Robert said, sliding on the last shoe as he grabbed a hold of Chris’s hand again, pulling him up and dragging him out the door as he protested. “Daddy!” Chris whined, lowering his tone a little bit now that they were outside, quickly heading towards the truck. “Champ. I told you to hold it in, now you’re just going to have to wait until we're at the party,” Robert explained. Chris moped about as he climbed into the back of the truck as Robert jumped in the front, not even following behind Chris to make sure he was buckled in like normal. Robert turned around at least, visually inspecting that Chris buckled in, stopping to give Chris a warm smile. “You look cute, sport,” He said before turning back to put the truck in reverse, backing out of the driveway. “Mommy’s going to eat you up when she sees you,” Chris blushed. Tonight was Liliane’s company party, which just so happened to be a massive formal party that they had gone to the past couple of years since dating, but it would be a first for all three of them to attend. Chris and Liliane had been dating for several years now, neither of which would have been labeled as kinky when they first met, but slowly overtime, they quickly started to find their niche only to have it all fully set in when they met Robert. An unsuspecting third party they had met at a friends party who had tried to hook up with Liliane, only to be taken by surprise when she had said that she was taken, but that they would be up to having a third. At first, it started out as just sex. Copious amounts of it too. Robert, having been fully into the ABDL scene himself had just sought after Liliane as a quick hook up, but quickly decided to stick around to see where things went when he realized just how submissive Chris was. Slowly, he picked up on Chris’s little tendencies here and there, finally realizing he had struck gold when the three of them had started talking about ways to change it up in the bedroom when Liliane brought up a Mommy Daddy role play. At first he played dumb, not wanting to scare off the obvious newcomers, but quickly started leading with a heavy hand. Introducing diapers, and bottles, until Chris and Liliane were fully on board with the whole scenario. But the bedroom never seemed to have enough time. So, just over a month ago they had decided to go full time. Robert moved in, happily sleeping with Liliane each night while Chris got to create the childhood bedroom of his dreams. “Alright, buckaroo,” Robert said, parking the truck before grabbing what Chris knew to be the diaper bag and jumping out of the truck. He opened Chris’s door, climbing up to help unbuckle Chris before helping him out. “Alright, you’re going to have to give me a couple of minutes to greet a few of Mommy’s coworkers, then we’ll find you a bathroom to get changed in, deal?” “Thanks, Daddy,” Chris said, grabbing a hold of his hand as he walked with Robert inside. “Ahhh!” Liliane screamed, suddenly emerging from the crowd of finely dressed people, giving Robert a quick hug, before leaning in to tightly squeeze Chris. “I’m so glad you could both make it!” She said, squeezing Chris tightly before catching a whiff of his accident. “Did somebody have an accident?” She whispered in Chris’s ear, instantly turning his face a bright shade of red. “Sorry, I tried to tell him to hold it. Do you know where the bathroom is?” Robert asked, patting the bag he brought with him. “I’m sure there's one around here somewhere, if you even need it. With the amount of perfume and cologne in this place, I bet you could go the whole night without anyone smelling him,” Liliane laughed, giving Robert a quick peck on the lips. “But I think it’s just this way, follow me,” She said, grabbing Robert’s hand before starting to pull him off into the crowd. Robert quickly reached out, grabbing a hold of Chris’s hand as the three quickly weaved their way through the crowd. “Oh my god, Liliane, you look great!” A voice suddenly called out, stopping the family train in its tracks just as they were nearing the hallway towards the restrooms. “Oh, Becky! You look great too!” Liliane said, stopping to chat with an obvious work friend. “You remember my boyfriend, Chris?” She said, gesturing towards Chris who just barely recognized her from a previous year. “Oh, of course!” She said, ignoring Chris’s extended hand and leaning in for a quick hug. Chris could see Robert give Liliane a concerned look, but Liliane didn’t seem worried at all. “And who’s this handsome fellow?” Becky asked, now turning her attention towards Robert. “This is Robert, my other boyfriend,” Liliane replied. Becky let out a muffled gasp of excitement. “Oh my god, I totally forgot you were doing the hold polygamous thing,” She said, giving Robert a playful poke with one of her fingers. “Doesn’t that ever make you worried that there's another man in the relationship?” She said, turning her attention back towards Chris who couldn’t help but hide his brightly colored face. Becky let out a smirk as she turned to look back at Liliane. “Well, I guess I might be holding you all up from something, so I’ll see you around later tonight!” She said, giving Liliane a final hug before disappearing back into the crowd from which she appeared. “Right, I think we can find our way from here if you want to go talk to some coworkers,” Robert suggested, grabbing Chris’s hand. “Sure!” Liliane said. “Let's meet up at the bar in 5 to 10 minutes?” Chris gave her a thumbs up, eliciting a smile from both of them as Robert dragged him off through the last of the crowd, finally arriving in one of the family sized restrooms. “Alright, champ. Let’s get you changed and ready for a night of partying,” He said, quickly opening the diaper bag and laying out a changing mat for Chris to lay out on before starting to unbutton Chris’s pants and pull the dress shirt out. “We’ve got to make sure to pull all of this out to make sure we don’t make a mess of any of your fancy clothes,” Robert said, pulling down his underwear to reveal his soiled diaper. “Alright, lay down for Daddy,” He said. Chris happily obliged, slowly lowering himself onto the changing pad before laying down, making sure to keep his shirt scrunched up on his chest to avoid his diaper. “That a boy!” Robert said, pulling out a little trash bag, some wipes and a diaper from his bag and laying them on the mat next to Chris. “Are you excited for tonight?” Robert asked, making small talk as he untapped the diaper, exposing its soiled contents to the room. Chris nodded. “It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten to drink,” He said with a smirk, knowing that Robert knew that it wasn’t the case, having snuck him a beer or two a few nights over the last couple of weeks. It was really Liliane who was opposed to him drinking, but only when he was in a regressed state. Nights like tonight, Chris was a ‘big boy’ as she put it, which really just meant that he was living a normal adult life, all while still being confined to diapers. Something he wasn’t opposed to though. Robert laughed at the thought, remembering quite well the beers he had snuck around Liliane's back. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree with Liliane about it, but more that he thought Chris was gigglier with a few drinks, which Robert loved. “Is Kyle still up for tomorrow night?” Robert asked as he finished up with the change, slightly lifting Chris to replace the diaper before tightly securing it. Chris nodded, looking away as he obviously tried to avoid the conversation. “He hasn’t responded,” Chris let out after a moment, sounding a little disheartened. “I’m sure he’ll be there. He said yes last week after all,” Robert responded, trying to cheer him up as he lifted him off the floor. Chris hoped that Robert was right, but couldn’t help shake the thought that he might be wrong. “Right, let's get you all buttoned up and drunk,” Robert said cheerfully, changing the subject as he pulled Chris’s pants back up, tucking in his shirt and adjusting his collar. “All set?” He asked, packing up the diaper back before throwing it over his shoulder, extending his hand for Chris to grab. Chris nodded with a smile, ready for the fun night that awaited them in the chaos that was this party. Did you enjoy the story? Want to help support me in creating more? Check out my Patreon!
  9. All Characters are over 18. ----- Alone Together Dani called it ‘Singles Awareness Day’, as if renaming Valentine's Day changed the fact they were both hopelessly single. To fix it, she came up with an idea, why not spend the evening alone together? "Isn't this a great idea, Paul?" Dani beamed as she looked up at him. He nodded. “Yeah, if you say-so.” Paul couldn’t get over how her backpack made her look shorter and smaller, like a pint-sized paratrooper. Dani was notoriously childish in their friend group, but it was endearing and cute in a way. Her skipping about the dorm’s tiny elevator was par for the course. He watched her black mop of short curly hair bounce with every hop. He had already acknowledged his crush on this bundle of energy — at least to himself. It wasn’t a lack of acknowledging his feelings that kept him at bay. He lacked courage like a cowardly lion, and getting it wouldn’t be as easy as following the yellow brick road. The problem was he didn’t know what to say. There were no right words that could come straight from his heart. If he said something wrong, he'd lose her. And he didn't want to lose Dani. He didn’t want to lose the way she could make them both laugh, or the way she made ordinary life more 'interesting'. Paul asked, “What are we planning on doing tonight?” “I was thinking a little bit of studying, we have that test coming up. Maybe we can do a movie. I don’t know, mostly. We can figure it out as we go. Does that make you nervous?” “No, I’m not nervous.” Paul was totally nervous. He was more of a meticulous planner type, while Dani was as spontaneous as a shaken soda, and twice as bubbly. Dani knew this. There was also a dangerous temptation to build up tonight into something bigger. He tried to squash it every time he thought about them ‘alone’ ‘together’. “Which one is yours?” Dani eyed the long line of doors in the hall. “The one on the right at the very end,” Paul answered as he fumbled for the keys in his pocket. This was the first time he’d brought a girl up to his dorm room, and he needed everything to be perfect. He spent way too much time cleaning his room, making sure everything was out of sight, and in the right place. It just had to be perfect. Unfortunately for Operation Perfection, his clumsiness had different plans. His keys caught the edge of his pocket, and he helplessly watched them fall in slow motion. There was nothing he could do as his keys clattered onto the yellowing tile floor. “Don’t worry, I got them.” Dani bent down to pick up the fallen keys. As she did, the neckline of black t-shirt dipped ever-so slightly, revealing ample cleavage and a well fitting pink bra. Dani was certainly stacked for a short girl, his guy friends made sure to mention that every time it was ‘just the boys’. She caught him gawking on her way up, as they locked eyes for the briefest moment. “Were you just staring at my boobs?” “No!” he choked. “I wasn’t staring at your… your… “ “Breasts?” “No.” “Ta-tas. Melons. Fun bags. Titties.” Paul snatched the keys from her hands. “You can stop now.” “Why? It’s making you squirm, and I just love watching you squirm. It’s cute.” Whatever. Red-faced Paul pressed himself against the door to his room, wrestling the uncooperative key inside the cantankerous lock. All he managed to do was rattle it around. His palms felt sweaty, but he didn’t dare wipe them on his jeans. “It helps if your hand doesn’t shake,” Dani taunted. “My hands aren’t shaking, you’re just being annoying.” Dani took his aggravation as an invitation to continue, prodding at his prudish nature with a wicked grin. “Puppies. Cupcakes. Twins. Jigglies. Honkers. Oh, hooters. That’s a good one.” Eventually, he managed to open the door. Much to Paul’s relief. He wasn’t aware of Dani’s depth of vocabulary, but she could probably have gone on all night, like a walking, talking thesaurus for naughty bits. Luckily, the room was just how he left it. Freshly made bed, no dirty clothes on the floor, he even dusted the corners of bookshelves and desk. Safely hidden away in the black trunk under his bed were things that Dani could not see. On pain of death. He flipped the light and threw his bag into its corner before plopping down in his computer chair. Dani just stood at the door with her hands on her hips. “What?” Paul asked. “So this is where the magic doesn’t happen.” Paul groaned. Why did he agree to have her over again? Also, why did his heart skip a beat and his mouth go dry every time he was around this annoying Hobbit-sized girl? Some questions didn’t have good answers. “I’m joking, Paul. It’s nice. It’s clean. Like you just killed somebody, and you hid all of the evidence.” “I like a well kept living space,” Paul said with a shrug. “That’s exactly what a killer would say.” Dani waltzed into the room, taking it all in like a tourist. She stopped at the edge of his bed. Paul held his breath. This was a bad idea. A lot of secrets hid under that bed, just a foot away from her feet. Secrets that would send her running away to the hills. Dani playfully wondered aloud, “If I was a dead body, where would I be.” Paul exclaimed, “Could you just be normal for one second?” “No, I can’t. Not even for one second.” Detective Dani peered around the room holding an invisible magnifying glass. This was a game for her now, and it was in his best interest to play along. He didn’t want to rouse her suspicions. His guest busied herself about the room, checking the top of his dresser, then the pillows on his made bed, evaluating his living space. There wasn’t much to evaluate, since he was a broke college student. His living conditions could be best described as spartan or austere. Spartan sounded cooler, like push-ups and swords and stuff. “Aha! I think I’ve figured it out," Dani announced. "You're totally hiding dead hookers in your closet." He answered, "You got me." There wasn't anything interesting in the closet. She could search in there all day with nothing to show for it except for collared shirts and hanging slacks. Dani wiggled her fingers as she went to pull open the closet door, awaiting an objection from Paul. There wasn't any. He slid his hands behind his head and reclined back in his desk chair; Dani would soon tire of this game, hopefully. Otherwise it’d be a long night. “OMG! That’s so cute!” What did she find? Paul shot up from the chair, trying to get an eye on Dani and find out what her prying uncovered. One second. Two seconds. A lifetime passed before Dani whipped around holding a giant teddy bear. His giant teddy bear. His visitor was grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile. He knew her enough to recognize when she was being herself. Dani said, “This is adorable, what’s his name?” “Teddy.” Dani snuggled with the big bear. “Hi, Teddy.” “It’s just something I brought from home,” Paul explained while fighting a blush. “You know, kid stuff to remember being a kid.” “Do you still sleep with it? Like a baby?” He coughed. “No, it stays in the closet. Put it back.” “Jeez, no need to get all defensive of a stuffie-wuffie.” Her mocking pouty face actually looked kind of cute, but it also forced him to cross his legs to cover up his tightening jeans. His special reaction to her baby talk. Dani held the huge bear up with both hands before bringing it down to her chest for a quick nuzzling. Then she stopped and sniffed it. Paul immediately recognized the entirely dangerous inquisitive look coming about her face. She said, “This teddy smells like baby.” “What does that even mean?” Paul asked. He was worried, he knew exactly what it meant. “He smells like a daycare, you know, like baby stuff. I worked at one last summer break. It isn’t a bad smell, it’s just strange that it doesn’t smell like a stinky college boy.” Paul needed to put this thing to bed before it got even more awkward. “Well, I did have it as a kid… And maybe you’re just smelling something you want to smell.” “Why would I want to smell diapers?” Dani rebutted with a squenched nose. “I’ve smelled enough stinky diapers to last a lifetime. Trust me.” She tossed the large teddy onto the waiting bed, it flopped unceremoniously against the pillows. Its tired stitching and faded fabric could tell plenty of embarrassing stories — If it could talk, but it’s lips were stitched shut. Teddy was a close partner when Paul was in that space, a keeper of hidden skeletons like the black trunk beneath the bed. The stuffy stared back at him, almost apologizing with both black beady eyes. Like it let him down, revealing his big secret. But it looked like his secret was safe. For now, at least. ———— “Who knew biology could be so boring?” Dani groaned as she floundered around on his bed. Somehow they’d been able to keep focused for almost half an hour. A new world record. Dani had her notes out and everything. Now it looked like all of it was crumbling to pieces. Paul knew he was on borrowed time anywise; at least he could pretend that they had been productive. “When do we get to the sex stuff?” “Come on, Dani. Is that all that you think about?” “Yes. It’s biology. Hormones, Pheromones, porno moans.” “Dani.” He let his disapproval known. “You need to loosen up, Paul. We were supposed to have fun tonight.” “You mean to say that studying isn’t fun?” Paul joked, he stood up from his desk to head over to his tv. “Let’s watch a movie, then. I’m down for anything as long as it’s not romance.” Dani rose up her knees on the bed. This had finally caught her attention. “Netflix and chill? Paul you are a wiley one. I didn’t realize you were that kind of boy. The real question is, am I that kind of girl?” Once again, he chose to ignore her, which hadn't worked to quiet her all night. Paul had the remote in his hands, trying to get to a movie so Dani would stop embarrassing him. It said it was a smart tv on the box, but Paul begged to differ. The responsiveness left a lot to be desired, he quickly got frustrated and tossed the remote to Dani. Then he checked his phone. “I can’t believe the pizza isn’t here yet.” “Yeah, we ordered it ages ago. Maybe some alien ate it.” “What?” Paul looked up from his phone. Dani shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t think through all the things I say sometimes.” “Just stay quiet then, like everyone else when they can’t think of something… to say.” Paul faded away as his eyes locked onto the tv screen. He couldn't move, only watch as the dread creeped up back into his neck. “Why is this in the Kids section?” Dani asked, but she didn’t switch away. She saw the same thing he did. All eyes were on the line of shows making up the row of 'keep watching'. The baby shows, all mid-episode, there was no way out of this one. What would he say to her? What 'could' he say to her? Paul quickly came up with a lie. "I share my account with my family, I guess someone was babysitting or something." "Uh-huh." Dani went about looking through the hours of toddler content, the perplexed, inquisitive gleam in her eye not fading a bit. Paul started, "I don't think-" Dani pressed play. The way she settled into his bed just begged for another pathetic explanation from him. Paul failed to give her any explanation, just staring at the screen mouth open, as the babies danced around in their oversized colorful diapers to classical music. The works of Mozart were supposed to make babies smarter or something. It was an easy sale to nervous parents concerned about development. He didn't know if it was true, or cared to find out. Right now, he had to get that remote out of Dani's hands. He couldn't exactly tackle her and rip it away. Even if that's what he really wanted to do. Paul had to play this cool, walk it away slowly. She was already suspecting ‘something’, between the baby-smelling oversized teddy and the toddler entertainment suite. Paul asked, "Why are you watching this?" "Why were ‘you’ watching this?" If conversations could be compared to fencing, Dani was a master at swordplay. She had a sharp wit and a swift delivery. Most of the time, she pretended to be silly, but that was just act like a drunken master from old Kung Fu movies. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she had a rapier pressed to his chest. He tried to explain a second time. "I wasn't watching this.. " "It's actually kind of cute," Dani interrupted him, taking ownership of the remote and the flow of conversation. "We used to have shows like this for the kids at the daycare. We couldn't watch too many of them, there were a lot of state laws and such about screen time." Paul complained, "Come on, let's watch a movie." Dani replied, "I want to watch this." "Why? What's so good about this baby show?" "It's making you squirm, and I love it." Paul collapsed back into his computer chair, fainting like a distressed damsel onto a waiting divan. Next would come the incessant fanning. Which he needed, he was breaking a sweat, hopefully Dani didn't notice. He'd have to sit through whatever Dani was planning, if she even had a plan. Dani wasn't the planning type— but he was. However, there was nothing in his blueprint for this moment, so he froze in his chair, hoping for it all to end. This moment, or the world, whichever came first. The babies on the screen rolled, waddled and crawled around to some Beethoven. "Whoa! Check out the size of that diaper," Dani broke the silence. "Reminds me of the toddler class, how'd they'd just poop themselves and go about their business. As if no one noticed that a tail grew inside their diaper, right?" Paul echoed, "Right.. " Dani sat up on the bed. "We'd have to constantly check them, like they were all smuggling poop in their diapers. Which they didn't like the checking either. And if you found out, you had to chase them down to get them to the changing room." Paul laughed. He was supposed to laugh, it didn't feel natural. "Paul, why don't you come here?" What was she hinting at? At first, Paul pretended his butt was glued to the seat, or that he was brain dead, or that the floor was lava; because he was going nowhere near Dani when she wore that Cheshire grin on her face. Then she did it, Dani curled her finger and beckoned him from her spot on the bed. He found himself on his feet, taking slow steps towards her. He was actually experiencing tunnel vision, the blurring on the periphery made the moment only about Dani and his shuffling feet on the tile floor. Dani wiggled herself to the edge of the bed, continuing to lure him into invisible jagged rocks. Her siren song, a quiet verse, her curling finger did all the talking. Paul asked, “What do you want?” “Hold still.” Paul did as he was told. A powerful force kept him in place, he became the final fence post after the hurricane had already blown the rest of the pickets away. He felt her finger trail down his lower back, yanking away the backside of his jeans and boxers. Dani smiled as she got a healthy view of his butt. And Paul just stood there, like a good fence post. Dani giggled. “All clean!” He blinked. Did she just check to see if he messed his pants like a toddler? This was becoming too much for him to handle. The heat rose up his neck, he was sure his face was red, probably because he was holding his breath. “Paul, you okay?” Dani wrapped her hands around his waist. “Earth to Paul, you in there?” “I think so.” Unable to properly function, he sat down on the bed next to her. Dani was just playing a game, Paul thought to himself. This was all a game, and he needed to get himself under control. This was not ‘his’ space, or ‘his’ time, or… or… anything. Snap out of it, Paul. ———— “What are you doing, Dani?” Paul asked for the thousandth time. They’d spent some time talking, but it looked like her ADHD had kicked into gear. Dani was now boneless. He watched her slowly slide from the bed upside down and head first, her curly hair hung like cave moss, while her body melted onto the floor like a Salvador Dali clock. “I used to love doing this when I was a kid, just looking at the world this way. It’s quite the change of perspective. Join me.” Paul noticed her shirt rising up her chest, as gravity worked its magic in reverse. This time revealing her pale stomach and cute belly button. Join her, why not? These were the kind of adventures that kept the world on its toes. Only Dani could pull him out of his shell, she had a way of bringing out the carefree goofball inside of him. It was almost worth all of the annoyance. So he hung upside down like a goofball. It was silly. Relaxing. Perfectly matching the playful music on the television. Dani laughed at him, he laughed at her. The kind of soul sharing that only happens on the other side of the silver screen. Man, he liked this girl. Why couldn’t he just tell her so? Not now. Talking would’ve ruined this moment, so they cracked up and pointed like a pair of mimes huffing laughing gas. The sublime combination of giggles and gravity eventually brought both college kids to the floor. Paul looked at her, saw her in a special way, she glanced back as mischievous as ever. It was time. Paul prepared to move in for a soft kiss. Then ‘IT’ happened. And not the kiss. “What’s that box under your bed?” Paul panicked. “What box?” “The. Big. Black. Box-thingy right there.” The. Big. Black. Box-thingy. It was right there. The trunk peeked out from beneath the perfectly made bed, halfway hidden in shadow, where he housed his ‘things’. He was thankful for the brass lock on the front, and the key on his keychain. A somewhat last line of defense now that it was out in the open. What could he do? Whatever it was, he had to do it fast. Maybe he'd just drag her out by the ankle and sling her back onto the elevator. He had to do something, but he wasn't doing anything. Paul was petrified, trying to stammer another lie, but the words came out in empty gasps. Dani asked, "Seriously, what's in the box?" Seriously. He had to answer her now that it was serious. Paul croaked, "Nothing." Even Paul failed to convince himself of his lie, he was as notorious a bad liar as Dani was a playful flirt. "I know," Dani gleamed, "That's where you keep your freaky-deaky porn stash." Paul swallowed. He should admit to the porn stash, that'd be a smart call. But then she'd want to see his porn stash, then she'd want to see inside the black box under the bed. “Um.” “Um?” Dani echoed. To his horror, she shuffled herself under the bed and started pulling the large black trunk from its hiding place. Paul grabbed her arm, harder than he intended. “No, don’t touch that!” Dani snapped, “What’s your problem, Paul?” There was a dark fire in her eyes, she was angry. Angry at him. He had messed this up, this was the opposite of perfection. This evening was a catastrophic failure, and if she got into that trunk, everything between them would be over. Paul warned her. “It’s private.” “I didn’t mean to make you upset,” she said as curled up with her knees against her chest. “I’m just trying to have fun. You know me, I’m curious about everything.” Paul waited for the right words. They didn’t come. Just the hurt feelings, and the pounding heart. “I thought we were close enough friends that we didn’t need secrets.” He replied, “Everyone needs secrets.” Paul stared at the trunk, a Pandora’s box of guilt and shame. Right now, he hated that box. He also hated that Dani was here. All of the fun was over, the carefree circus was done, time to pack up the tent. His phone buzzed on the floor next to him, Paul checked the screen. It was the pizza guy, in the lobby downstairs. Paul needed to fix this before he headed down to meet him. “It’s okay, Dani. We just have to have boundaries, that’s all.” “You know I’m a habitual line-crosser,” Dani chuckled. “That’s what I like about you. Sort of. Kind of. It’s one of your likable features, I guess.” Dani bursted into a smile. “You like me?” He wanted to say, ‘Yeah, I do.’ It felt good, and right. Somehow Paul had managed to steer clear of the iceberg. Now he could reveal his feelings, once and for all. Maybe Cupid did deliver on V-day, or ‘Singles Awareness Day’ as Dani called it. Paul flashed his phone. “It’s the pizza, I’ll go downstairs and get it. You chill up here, and we’ll talk when I get back.” Dani asked, “What about your mystery box?” “It’s locked, so knock yourself out.” Paul double checked to see if his keys were still in his pocket. Then left her with a parting grin. He’d practice what he wanted to say to her on the way to the elevator, and he’d have it perfect by the time he was back with the cheese pizza. ———— It was perfect. Dani was in his room, hot pizza box in his hands, making everyone in the elevator jealous. And they should be. Paul was having one of his better ‘Singles Awareness Days’. One of the best in history. He carefully balanced the pizza box as he removed his keys from his pocket. This time he didn’t drop them. Absolutely Perfect. The door to the room slowly opened to reveal Dani on the floor in front of a very open black trunk. She turned to him when she heard the door, the soft sheen of tears in her brown eyes. “I’m so sorry, it wasn’t locked.” The pizza box clattered to the floor at his feet.
  10. Hii im Rebecca 29 yrs im hoping to one day find a Mommy who will take care of me as her own
  11. "Are you in here, honey?" I called as I opened the door to our hotel room. I had a fight with my new bride a couple hours ago while we were supposed to be enjoying the beach. She said she needed some time to herself in order to cool off, and left me alone on the beach. After that, I realized I had been acting like an ass, and so I sat on the beach for a couple hours trying to give her the space she said she needed. I was hoping she would be in here, but from the empty room it seemed like she was still out cooling off. So, I sat on the patio of our hotel room, watching the waves come in and out, and waited for her to return. Half an hour later, I heard the electronic clicking of the hotel room door unlocking and opening, so I headed back inside. My wife had evidently used shopping as her method for calming down, because her arms were laden with several big sacks laden with items. "I'm sorry dear," I said. "I've been acting like an ass this entire time. I was upset that they switched our room from a king size to two double beds, and then forgetting to put our order in at breakfast this morning, and all of that has been stressing me out because I just want us to have a good time. But I have been taking my frustration out on you and I am sorry for doing that." "Well thank you baby. I really appreciate that apology." My newly wedded wife said in her normal sing-song tone, rather than the angered tone of voice she used whenever she was mad. "I know you just want us to have a good time. Yes, the double beds sucked, but I think they are actually going to work out for us." "Oh, why is that," I asked surprised. She was so upset when the concierge told us that she had been ready to book another resort. "Well, I realized that this is my fault. I've been letting you pretend to be the big strong man in control at our wedding, and now on the honeymoon, but all that responsibility has been frustrating you. So now you're at your limit and starting to throw temper tantrums. I never should have let you be anything other than my little diaper boy," she said. Then, she opened one of her shopping bags and pulled out a large package of adult diapers. This was followed by diaper rash cream, baby powder, baby wipes, a couple jars of baby food, suppositories, and two baby bottles. "So, here is what is going to happen. I am going to spank you for throwing temper tantrums. Then, you are going into a diaper, and then your face is going into a corner to think about what you've done. After that, I am going to feed you this baby food for lunch. Then we can continue on with the rest of our honeymoon. Understood?" She asked. I stared at her, a bit in shock. My wife had never been against my abdl fetishes, but she had also never been the instigator of anything. Let alone giving me a punishment for my behavior outside of a roleplay scene. Apparently though I was silent for too long, because she walked over to me and started pinching my ear. Pulling me down to look her in the face, she asked again, "is that clear little diaper boy?" "Yes mommy," I responded. "Good. Arms up, legs apart then so I can get those clothes off you." My wife ordered. I adopted a pose similar to the one you have to make when going through the TSA security screening. My wife then stripped me naked in a business-like, efficient manner. Then, before I could react she took me by the arm and had me pinned against her lap on the bed. Her hairbrush then began delivering sharp, stinging swats up and down my legs, but most were focused on my bare ass. Soon I was squirming and twisting across my wife's lap, trying to avoid as many direct hits as I could. I have no idea how long the spanking actually lasted, or how many hits I took. I was exhausted though when my wife was finally finished. I tried to get off her lap when no blows had landed for a minute, but she held me tight, saying "what do you say little baby?" "Thank you for my spanking mommy," I said, wanting to get up and rub my stinging cheeks. "You're welcome baby," my wife said. She released me from her lap, but I didn't have long to soothe my stinging cheeks. It only took a minute for her to pull a diaper out of the package and have it spread out on the bed. After that, I was laying down on top of the diaper, holding my legs up in the air while diaper rash cream was spread all over my bum and my crotch was liberally coated with baby powder. I also felt a finger penetrate my sphincter as a suppository was none too gently inserted inside of me. Once my mommy/wife felt that I was properly prepared, the diaper was taped tightly around me. The thick padding rubbed and touched every inch of my red and sore bottom, adding to the discomfort of the spanking. Washing her hands clean of powder and cream, my wife took me out onto the patio of our hotel room. It was secluded enough that no one was likely to see me in nothing but a diaper, but the prospect still existed making me feel uncomfortable. Mommy took a coin out from her purse, and put it on the wall at waist height. She held it there with her finger, until I got down to hold it with my nose. The coin was at an awkward height. It was too high for me to hold it against the wall while on my knees. This meant I had to hold an awkward, hunched squat to keep the coin against the wall. Once my nose was securely holding the coin against the wall, mommy took the shirt that I had been wearing, and covered my eyes with it. My hands were then tied behind my back with the rope we had brought to have some kinky sex on our honeymoon. Until now, it had remained in the suitcase. "Alright honey," My wife said. "I am going to go get some lunch. You are going to keep that coin against the wall until I return, unless you want a maintenance spanking every morning and evening. Is that understood?" "Yesss Mommmmmy," I said, strained from worrying about losing the coin. Without another word, I heard the sliding glass door close and lock behind me, leaving me to endure my punishment alone. I had no concept of time, as I squatted there, concentrating on holding the coin to the wall. After what I would guess was around five minutes, I started feeling the strain of my position on my legs. After five more minutes, I felt the rumbling of the suppository, working within my bowels. After another five minutes, my bowels were ready to release. I tried holding it, but already in a squat and overwhelmed with the fatigue in my legs and effort of keeping the coin on the wall, I only made a feeble attempt. Soon the hot, soft mush was erupting out of my bowels and into the seat of my potty pants. My ass was tender from my spanking, so I could feel the gross mush as it spread around my diaper. The contact against my bruising bottom also made the welts sting more. At this point, my emotions overcame me, and I began crying like the baby I was. I was so overwhelmed the only thing I could think to do was keep my face pressed against the wall, holding the coin up while tears streamed into my blindfold and I sobbed uncontrollably. That's how my mommy found me. I had been crying like that for what felt like a while when she found me. Without saying anything, she gently pulled me away from the wall, and onto my butt, spreading the mush all around my tush as I put pressure on my diaper. This truly spread it everywhere. I felt dirty, gross, embarrassed, tired, and in pain, and my crying intensified. I imagine I truly looked like a toddler. My wife/mommy pulled a chair up next to me, and tenderly cradled me against her legs, gently patting my back and telling me to let it all out. We stayed like that for a while, until I had calmed down. "Are you ready for your lunch now baby?" My wife asked me. "Yes, mmmommy," I said, still sniffling a little. I heard two pops as she opened the cans of baby food she had purchased with my diapers. Still blind folded, I was unable to see what mommy was feeding me. When I felt a spoon press against my lips though, I obediently opened my mouth for her to shovel a spoonful of baby food into me. I tried to swallow it as quickly as possible to avoid tasting it, but thankfully, Mommy was taking mercy on me in this portion of my punishment. She was feeding me peaches, and a berry puree. I swallowed all the baby food, and drank a baby bottle of water, but after wetting my diaper Infound I was still hungry. My stomach even rumbled. At this, mommy said, "awe, my little man's cry must have taken a lot out of energy for him to be this hungry. Would you like some more lunch diaper boy?" "Yes mommy," I said meekly, humbled by my punishment and current state. "Open wide baby," Mommy said before feeding me a waffle fry. She must have brought them back from her lunch, because she had a lot of them to feed me. After the fries, and a second baby bottle of water, I was stuffed. Embarrassingly, some gentle patting from my mommy against my back even forced a burp out of me. She then untied my arms and removed my blindfold, but didn't let me get up off the ground just yet. "Ok baby, before we get you showered, we need to go over the ground rules for the rest of our trip." Mommy said. "I am not going to order you into diapers. You have to ask for them yourself. These diapers are only coming back home with us one way, and that is wrapped around your waist. So unless you want to be waddling around the airport in a diaper so thick your pants won't fit around, you are going to have to ask me to put you in one any time we are not at the beach. Also, we are not wasting any of these diapers. That means you are not going to get to take a diaper off unless it has been pooped and peed in. The rest of the suppositories are to help you with this. If you think that going to the beach means you will get changed out of a diaper that's only been peed in, think twice. Once your trunks are ready to come off I will tape the wet diaper right back on you. So think carefully about when you want a diaper, when you want a suppository, and how many liquids you are consuming. Is all of that understood?" "Yeth mommy," I replied, mortified at the thought of how much I would be forcing myself to pee and poop my diapers in order to get through them all, and avoid having any used ones taped back on me. With that, Mommy eased me up off the ground and led me to the shower to get me cleaned up. I knew I would be asking my mommy to put me in a fresh diaper as soon as I dried off.
  12. As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story. So, here is the first chapter of my next story on here. I have everything all mapped out, but I might be a bit busier in the next month. My hope is to finish posting the last chapter before I go on vacation, but if not, as a warning, there might be over a week where I don't post something new. (Edit: This story also connects to the 'Tell Me More' story I wrote a few months ago now. Dr. Mengell used it's findings as a catalyst for her to change her practice toward helping Littles in need.) I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 1: Welcome to Project Nurture My foot tapped anxiously while waiting for another conference to end. Today was the day that would determine if the so-called ‘Project Nurture’ would have been worth something more than what it had already offered to the participating Littles and Caregivers. Of course, they had seen the immediate benefits, and each was mostly happy with the outcome we had achieved together, but I knew the Board of Directors for Diamond Technologies was something entirely different. Many were old standbys of traditional methods and had literal stock in many of them and the tools and drugs required to facilitate their execution. This experiment proved, however, that it could move us Bigs away from the old techniques of the past, which was something I was greatly in favor of. Having been a researcher in the many ways of possible regression, I could still remember what I had seen and heard in my time with other less savory projects. “Oh please, God, don’t put me under! Please let me keep my mind… just a tiny bit! Why can’t I walk? Wah dih’ you do ta ma tun? Why does my head feel so… empty… and free? Stay in, stay in, why won’t you just stay in? I can’t feel my legs! What did you do to me? Maaa bahhh!’ I shuddered a bit. Those cries of pleading and anguish from all those patients still haunted me today. In a sense, Project Nurture was my shot at a redemption of sorts. From my experience, I knew firsthand that all other techniques alone were too severe, some even being outright horrible in any dosage. The file I now held with me and was about to present to the Board of Directors represented a new path for us Bigs. The small USB device in my briefcase had the potential to change everything if handled correctly and could be worth billions if applied correctly. ‘What old Drakos at Juventas would give just to get a peek at all the data in here… probably pay a fortune.’ Still, my loyalty was with Diamond Technologies, and I knew if they only could accept what I had to offer from the experiments I had observed, the world would be better for it. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of such a change. It almost even seemed ironic to be presenting this information to a company that was now so infamous with its connection to Diamond Tours, but I knew that stain on their reputation would only favor me with the Board of Directors. Just then, the other conference ended, and several people started to quickly exit from the room. I stood up and walked confidently into the emptying room to start setting up. I clicked a few switches for the room control and ensured all the systems I would need were working correctly. I had just finished checking the RealET system when a manager from the previous conference walked up to me with a large grin. “Edgar!” Harry Carga joyfully shouted. “How are ya doin’? New presentation today?” “Hey, Harry. New presentation to the Board of Directors in a few minutes actually,” I replied while still ensuring all my slides were good to go after I had inserted my USB device. “Ah, wonderful! Wonderful!” Harry then got a mischievous look on his face. “Just between us old managers. You, testing division… me, marketing… is it about the new toy line… Mister…?” “Mister Brown,” I finished quickly for him, trying to move the conversation along to better focus on my presentation. “No, that’s another project, but,” I leaned in closer and indulgently whispered to my old friend, “I can tell you this… the Mister Brown stuffed bear line’s preliminary testing has suggested that it could be a smash success in the market. In fact,” I looked around to ensure no one was eavesdropping, “we even think the technology could be so useful, that it could be used as the basis for other animal lines as well.” “Oh? Do tell,” Harry said, practically salivating over the notion. I could already see his marketing-focused brain start to spin up with all new advertisements. “Well, it’s all still preliminary, but maybe elephants, unicorns, tigers, bunnies, and if the tech guys are to be believed… dragons.” “Oh wow! I can just see them now,” Harry said, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the mere thought of such a lucrative prospect. “I’m sure you can, Harry,” I said, trying to refocus on my preparation once more. “Man, with the way my Little has been behaving though… I might just be the first to get one and use one of the special features I heard so much about from the rumor mill.” I wanted to smack him in the head right then for even implying such a thing for his Little, but I just smiled and wrapped the conversation up as quickly as I could. Bigs like Harry was why Project Nurture was so important. We Bigs needed a change and today could be the solution to get rid of the need for all those special features in the first place. I continued to click deliberately on the correct icons from my computer’s screen to select the start of the presentation that I had crafted just for today. A lot was riding on it, especially seeing the long line of Board Members for the company that were now walking in with their propensity to always strive for innovation and progress, yet somehow always come off as traditional and even regressive in some ways. Knowing the Board of Directors, the outcome of today with these fair-weather types could either mean a total success or a setback of at least ten years if they had their way afterward. Our society of Bigs had been entrenched in its ideology about Littles for decades now. Bigs and Littles once lived in relative harmony in the same but slightly separated communities. Now, Bigs and Littles were integrated together fully, but the treatment of Littles had only grown more severe since the so-called ‘Inclusion Laws’ had first been enacted, as indicated by Harry only moments ago. We all knew that Littles were often kidnapped or tricked into centers for regression and then adopted out to childless couples or already large families looking to possess an always fashionable Little, but those laws increased those odds by at least 70% in the first year alone. For the lucky regressed Little, some Bigs would choose to regress them personally, rather than those awful regression centers, but this could be messy, unpredictable, and even dangerous if handled incorrectly. One Little had escaped and killed their entire adoptive family of Bigs last year. Something had to change, so I took a deep breath in to begin with what could be that very change. “Ladies and Gentlemen!” I announced in front of the room of the now-seated spectators and members of the company board. “I would like to thank you all for coming here today, and I would like to especially thank the Board of Directors of this company for green lighting this project in the first place. I’m pleased to say that your faith in our experiment was well placed.” The Board members around the desk nodded subtly and the rest of the audience behind them gave a small clap. “So, it was a success?” Ms. Beakerman asked from the back of the table, shoving her horned rimmed glasses up her bony and hooked nose. The small applause immediately stopped. “Yes, ma’am. This presentation,” I flicked off most of the lights and turned the front projector on, “will demonstrate the effectiveness of our latest round of experiments.” The screen popped on and flashed my name, ‘Dr. Edgar Thompson,’ and the title, ‘Regressing Littles in a New Way: Using a Combination of Tender Care, Threat of Punishment, Mild Hypnosis, and Company Medications to Achieve Similar Results to Traditional Methods of Mental Reversion,’ with the codename, ‘Project Nurture’ at the bottom. Gasps went out over the crowd. They had of course been informed of the project last year when it was still in the planning phases, but knowing them as I did, many had likely just signed off and only agreed with some of the more senior Board members without fully reading the document. It worked in my favor for getting projects off the ground, but their rejection rates at this stage were often much higher. “Similar results, Dr. Thompson?” Mr. Cannon asked, drumming his fingers in an annoyed manner on his rotund belly that was threatening to burst all the buttons off the white shirt he was wearing today. “Yes. Similar results, sir, as you will see.” I clicked forward in the presentation to a slide labeled, ‘Why?’ “I will get to that in one moment if you will bear with me. I promise, your question will be answered in good time.” Mr. Cannon, the group skeptic, grumbled but waved his pudgy fingers for me to proceed. “Of the past methods we Bigs have used to regress Littles, three have been go-to methods for decades; a new drug, a new surgery, or a new hypnosis method.” The board murmured in agreement; each having grown rich off this company’s profits with each of the three methods in the past. “Yes, yes. All good, but each has a downside as we know all too well.” I clicked the presentation forward, now showing the three methods and images of their various failures. “A new drug often causes mass hallucinations and mental breakage of the affected Little, which means lawsuits and negative publicity. New surgeries reduce abilities but are often expensive and permanently damaging to Littles, not to mention a stain on the name of our society as being ‘more civilized.’” The board whispered in silent and obvious ashamed agreement. “And lastly, new hypnosis methods. They are faster and more permanent when done correctly, but if ever possibly broken, many Littles need to be regressed again with stronger methods or have even been committed to an insane asylum in some cases.” I was about to click to the next slide, but one member raised their hand. It was Mr. Cannon again. “Yes… sir?” “I read an article the other day, you see… your method I’m sure is valid, and you are right about the other three, but I think you left out one.” I raised my eyebrows in curiosity, though slightly knowing where he could be going with this. “What about these nanobots I hear all this chatter about, doc?” Mr. Cannon asked inquisitively. The entire room shifted its uncomfortable focus back onto me. I knew this was bound to come out as well, having just read the article myself in the company newsletter. “Ah yes, that’s true. Newer and faster acting nanobots have begun to pop up in several markets, even beyond our own company’s breakthroughs, but we have found that these often have some, if not all, the negatives of these previous methods. We believe that one day these will be all the rage, and we have other experiments dedicated to those that even I am involved with, but there are just too many unknowns for now.” I knew that something being classified as ‘unknown’ was a dirty word to the Board of Directors. It could mean money lost or reputations being tarnished. As such, Mr. Cannon merely nodded along with the rest of the board and gave me the signal to proceed. Satisfied, I clicked the next slide, labeled, ‘Background.’ “This method was originally formed when during one of the raids of a Littles liberation camp, a psychology textbook from one of the portal Littles was discovered. At first the textbook appeared to possess only rudimentary knowledge of the inner machinations of their primitive minds, but our scientists postulated that an understanding of their minds is both genetics, or physical workings, and one’s background. Further, information discovered could be used to augment the psychological profile of the average portal Little, rather than just their physical attributes. While not necessarily a barometer or new method of regression, it was thought to be a potential key to unlocking the secrets of Little society, both here and there.” The crowd leaned in further. I knew I had their attention, and I was glad that no one had outright objected so far. “In fact, what we have just been learning ourselves had been discovered when portal Littles first came here, but society at the time had caused the government to repress the information from being released to the public. ‘Our government sources still wouldn’t say why, but I’m guessing one of the corporations had their hand in it with kickbacks and the like… not to even mention all the tech from keeping Littles regressed.’ “The government only informed us two days ago… after the experiment had already concluded, however, our findings were more extensive and conducted with more concrete analysis and less… bias,” I quickly added after seeing some of the Board grow anxious for the potential of wasted money when an experiment like this had already occurred years ago. ‘Waste’ was another dirty word to them. The Board of Directors and the other audience members before me murmured in their own ways. Something told me that my personal theory of companies paying the government off in order to sell more Little products was dead right. A few on our own Board had dealings with the government in the past but had left for ‘undisclosed reasons.’ ‘I could be talking to some of those same members who were involved with repressing the information…’ I tossed the thought out of my head, knowing it wouldn’t do me any good to dwell on, and moved forward with a click to the next slide. “Regardless, our doctors have reinforced the long-held belief that portal Littles activate a hormonal fluctuation in many Bigs which causes their protective and nurturing instincts to go into overdrive. Some estimate the reaction is almost twice as potent with portal Littles as compared to our own native Littles. So, with a declining local Little and unregressed population and the widening amount of infertility in our society, portal Littles will likely continue to be, and even grow, into one of the largest markets of Littles existing.” I switched to the next slide. “The psychological textbook theories in the captured books were combined with years of research conducted by in-depth interviews of Bigs and even some Littles, who I should point out were not coerced in any manner. Then, Little psychologists condensed and tailored all those data points into this single experiment in its entirety to test the complete validity of this revised method into practice. I…” “Why the hell would they want to help us? Seems a bit suspicious, doctor,” one of the senior and more traditional Bigs, Mr. Galpin, shot out. I knew I was going to receive at least one objection from him. George Galpin’s family stretched across Libertalia in their influence, and it was common knowledge that his brother, Robert, and his wife Emily, had just adopted a Little of their own from one of the more barbaric regression institutes in the north. “Ah, yes. Mr. Galpin… You must understand,” I explained, “that the possibility of the success of this program could mean a different treatment for all Littles potentially. Not just portal Littles.” He continued to glare at me. “You see, our native Littles know that adoption is likely for at least 90% of Littles in our world, so if it can be better for them and for us, they know it’s worth their involvement.” Mr. Galpin seemed to steam in frustration for a moment but relented and leaned back in his chair. Hopeful that I had quelled his discontent, I continued with the slides. I clicked the screen again and two subjects were shown. “Here is subject 90876A and 90876B, and this Little and Big duo will be the main focus of today’s presentation. Of the 150 test subjects in this conducted experiment, 40 occurred in this country with the same parameters beyond test subject differences. In fact, two test villages were set up in the northeast and the south with 20 subject pairs in each, just to cut down on outside variables for the initial part of testing.” I then held up one of the spare data storage devices that I had brought along with me. “When you leave today, each of you will take one of these home with you. They have been modified to be viewed by you only using your genetic code stored within company files. Each contains all sessions conducted with subjects 90876A and 90876B, as well as the remaining 149 experiments with conclusions drawn for each. We know you, as the Board of Directors for this company, are busy with other matters, so we will leave the investment timing of viewing your up to you. Further, of the 110 test subject pairings not in this country, they were divided amongst seven other countries to ensure a wider possibility of success with our method across the world and cultures.” The board murmured with greedy anticipation. In truth, we could have just remained in one section of this country, but I knew that a world market meant a wider audience, and a wider audience meant more buyers of this company’s products. Despite the varied appearances before me, dollar signs illuminated each of their eyes in unison. I clicked the slide again. “All subjects were chosen for their backgrounds, desires, and for the Big, their demeanor and current job placement. We determined that the job requirement in all our caregivers shouldn’t be too time consuming, and the subject caregiver should be able to take off if needed to complete a part of the experiment if needed. Future experiments, if approved, will test this method out with varying job parameters, but for the first round of testing, we believed that further interactions between the subjects, caregiver and Little, would be needed. We also knew that a flexibility was important in both subjects.” The board nodded their heads in agreement. ‘So far, so good, Edgar… just keep reeling them in.’ “For the Little, smaller parameters were required. Due to the theory of mentality being a combination of environment and genetics however, each of the Littles came from the same dimension. The planet is a pre-fusion society and still relies on several pollutants for fuel, so this did allow some ease of tension when Littles were inducted into our society with our various advancements in technology.” “How were they convinced?” Ms. Beakerman asked shrilly. “Ah. Yes, well, we will discuss Little involvement in due time, but we have promised the Bigs to be able to adopt their assigned Little by the end, barring negative mannerisms previously undetected or violation of experiment protocols. They were aware of the experiment being performed and realized they could have a potentially better behaved and more accepting Little than ever before as well. In fact, off the 150 total caregivers we selected, we had to turn down over 60,000.” The board all appeared shocked but then resolved once more. Everyone knew about the struggles our society was facing, so honestly, 60,000 almost seemed too small a number worldwide to me at least. “Additionally, Bigs will be paid for the care of the Little with whatever tools or implements required during the process and an extra bonus will be given in the end if all regulations and procedures were followed to the letter. We believed this contributed to the fact that only one subject was ever treated incorrectly according to the regulations of the experiment. Subject 90872A and B have been noted in your files…” “You still haven’t answered my initial question, Doctor.” Mr. Cannon growled. “My patience is growing thin.” The Board Members began murmuring in agreement soon afterward. “I’m just getting to that, Mr. Cannon. Here.” I clicked the slide. “For years, as I noted, other harder methods are wrong and likely, illegal in most dimensions. They must stop. We, as a society, are wrong.” A gasp went up among the crowd. I had to hook them in quick or they would tune me out for the rest of the presentation or even leave. I didn’t get the chance though. “You’ll never get away with this!” a Big stood up from the back of the crowd and waved a gun around. The board members and I quickly took cover behind whatever we could find. ‘Damn security budget cuts…’ “There’s an order to things,” he shouted manically. “You just can’t go about and change the book. This society needs those other services, and you’re getting rid of them! You won’t get away with this!” From his appearance and general demeanor, he was obviously an outsider. Any employee of our office knew that our company had long been at the forefront of innovation, so it was inevitable that someone would want to protest something we were doing. As such, despite their cutbacks, our security had been trained, armed, and were ready to deploy all throughout the building and its facilities within one minute. This office was closer to the main hub however, so less than thirty seconds after he had pulled out his gun, our security burst through the doors. “Freeze!” “Screw yo…!” Bzzzzt! The guard at the front of the pack quickly blasted off his stick and a charge of purple lightning struck the gunman squarely in the chest. He quickly collapsed and was neutralized. The gunman never fired a shot. As they dragged him away though, some… cleanup and air freshener were required from where the now babbling man had collapsed. Everyone in the room got back and resumed their seats once the janitorial staff had disinfected and sanitized the room. The amount of money invested in this program and the stubborn nature of each person there ensured that a single small gunman would not deter what they had come here to see. Seeing that it would take something much more to interrupt my presentation, I pressed forward, now with a lovely smell of lavender and lemon in the air. “As I was saying… harder methods of regression have been used since the beginning days of what we now know as the ‘Little Reclamation Program.’ These methods are effective in their own way but still brutal. Instead of pacifying the Little population, no pun intended,” a small chuckle emitted from the room, “these efforts have only galvanized more Littles against Big-led society. This movement includes those in this dimension and several of the ones arriving here. In fact, the Secretary of Commerce for Libertalia has even projected that tourism will be down by almost 40% next year from other portal dimensions. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. They are scared of us.” “A little fear goes a long way, though,” Mrs. Gordon, a young and suited woman, quickly pointed out. “True, but we are now experiencing the backlash of such methods.” The snooty young Board member eased back into her seat. “About five years ago, if you recall, a rebel leader of a Little resistance cell was taken and regressed through the traditional means. From the request of the government, she was almost made a near-permanent newborn in looks and abilities.” I paused and noticed that all eyes were on me. Despite the gunman and some of the more boring introductions of the presentation, all were still with me. It was a good sign. “Her cell found this out and only grew in their hate for our society and the methods the hospital had used. Not long after, the hospital was assaulted, and several were killed.” I took a sip from my nearby glass of water. “Her mother was killed in the fighting and her father later had a mental breakdown. She is now in foster care waiting to be adopted, though her prospects are slim due to her permanent vegetative newborn state… and all that is not just one isolated case.” The Board looked wary and reflective of the event, but there were so many like that story, I doubted a few of them could even remember it. “Additionally, our company has produced a lifelike doll that mimics many of the abilities and functions of a newborn. Though we should all be congratulated on our work and success with that product, adoption prospects for vegetative newborns have been pushed even further into jeopardy. We can… we must prevent these events from occurring.” “But how do you plan on that?” Mr. Galpin asked smugly, just as a light applause had begun. “I’m going to show you…” I clicked the next slide. “Using the method that you’ll soon see used for subjects 90876A and 90876B, we can lift this burden from our society. We would still be able to supply the population with a stable Little population that may even choose themselves to stay and the method wouldn’t carry the weight of our original near-barbaric methods of regression. It would be a sign for a renewal of faith in our society, rather than others looking at us like a, to put it bluntly, horror show.” To my surprise, a few of the board members clapped in earnest now. Surgeries and hypnotics were messy and almost completely irreversible as I had previously pointed out. Big society members in this dimension were looked at like monsters only yearning for fresh meat to babify, and people were starting to catch on. If something didn’t happen quickly, few Littles would ever think of coming here again regardless of our trickeries or appeal in other ways, such as our technology. Seeing a thriving space program and alternative fuel sources was nothing if said tourist came out, if at all, with the mentality of a one-year-old. Still, their reaction was at least a little surprising. “Further, we have discovered that some of our more natural tendencies are even stronger with this method. An estimated 90% of the group registered a near complete Big-to-Little bond that parents achieve with their natural offspring using hormone and chemical levels registered in the body to verify the result.” “What about the 10%?” Mr. Cannon skeptically and annoyingly asked. “Yes… well, based on our preliminary research, we have come to speculate based on our findings that despite our extensive sorting and elimination methods,” I admitted frustratingly, “many of the Bigs in the selected group seemed to only want to become caregivers based on their need for power or domination, rather than with their motivations of something like love. Further, due to the lower levels of a supply of Littles, we suspect that some of them may have taken longer to breakthrough as they may have otherwise been deemed as Dark Cliff candidates.” “Oh…” Mr. Cannon receded into the rest of the members around the table. Every Big knew of the terrible fate that awaited any that were sentenced there. ‘True tough cases if there ever were some…’ “Yes… well, now onto the main presentation. Lights, Mr. Cunningham!” One of the techs for the room quickly hit the light switch and immediately bathed the room in an inky black shadow, the projector being the only source of light with the newly designed blackout curtains all around. “Thank you. Now, knowing that these experiments would eventually be shown to you members of the Board, we decided to use RealET, or for those of you not aware of our AV department’s latest advancements, Real Environmental Technology.” Many in the room gasped at the use of something so state-of-the-art. “Using pre-installed devices during the experiment and the projectors now in this room, we can map what occurred right before you as if you were actually there. Some thoughts and feelings may be known as well, but many have been scrubbed to avoid… potential privacy issues in most cases.” “Can this broadcast the Olympics? Spartans are on at 6!” Ms. Beakerman jested, a known enthusiast of their national team and one of their most prominent benefactors. “I’m afraid not right now, Ms. Beakerman, though I can put you in contact with the head of their department after today. You never know what tomorrow could bring…” She only smiled broadly, her wrinkles stretching to their limits across her face. “Now, we shall begin with the first session and move onward. There are 42 sessions in total, but for the sake of time today, we will only show a selection of some of the more important moments from subjects 90876A and 90876B journey together. Some diaper changes and tantrums may be good to see, but more than six a day would likely become tiresome, as I’m sure some of you with Littles can attest to already,” I joked. The board laughed quietly, but I could see that each were fully entranced with the projection rendering all around them. It was hard not to with eh blue lasers rendering bits of the recording in real time. “Now, brace yourselves, this may feel a bit… weird.” I then moved over to the main control panel and as I could already begin to see my observation post for the experiment from a few months ago, I took a deep breath and pressed the lever to activate the screen. “Ladies and gentlemen of the board, I give you, Project Nurture!” Vrrroom! Pop!
  13. Hello everyone, this is a new story I'm writing, picking some suggestions from a previous topic I made and of course some personal details. I want to try to do something new and try writing with Points of View characters, I want to check out if I'm capable of giving different inner voices to different personalities. I'll be starting with two, might add more in the future. Some details. 1 - My stories feature Mini-Giantess and extremely short men, so if you don't like that please feel free to ignore this thread. 2 - This story is set in a world similar to Earth but just not it, just to avoid me the struggle of being consistent with education laws of a specific country. I know nobody would care about that but I would ENJOY! NOEMI I She couldn't believe she was finally out of that stinkhole of a place its inhabitants call a town. She was entering University, and in a large city at that! Finally no more meeting the same 3 people everyday, finally she could go dancing, she could go to the theatre, she could go to concerts, ANYTHING. Hell, if she wanted she cou- THOMPH! "Wa-was I hit by a truck?" Noemi wasn't a small gal. Not even for girls standards. Yes, women were indeed usually a 2 or 3 feet taller than men, but standing at 7'9 she was ESPECIALLY tall, even more so for someone who was 18. Most women don't stop growing until they are 30, but have a severe deceleration at 25; doctors have however predicted her probably not to stop before reaching 9 feet at the very least, making her one of the tallest women in the world. She looked down at the man who she hit. He was probably around her age or a bit older. It was always hard to say with men, considering their facial features don't change much after reaching the age of 20 and keep being basically the same until their late 40s. She helped him getting up, he was quite chubby and about average in height, not taller than 3'7. "I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention, I was just marveling at this place! It's huge!" he scraffled the dust away from his own body and then talked. "No worries, mate. It was my fault to pass in the women's corridor, I was kinda in a hurry and well..." "Noemi." she said firmly, shaking his hand. "George!" "Nice to meet you George! You said a WOMEN's corridor?" "Ay! It's for men's safe to have them separated, to avoid specifically what has just happened to us ahah!" "Yes. That's correct. And you should have known better, Mister." a deep womanly voice came from behind's Noemi's shoulders. It was an older woman, probably around 28 or 30, quite short for a gal, around 6'8, but the authoritative composure, the way she was dressed, accompanied by her frowning made her look twice as large. Noemi had seen her face when online when she was applying to the University. She was one of the assistant of one of her professors. "S-sorry Mrs. Flennigan, it-it won't happen anymore." he excused himself sheepishly, looking down. "I'm sure it won't. Or else." <Quite stern.> Noemi thought, but realized that probably men had been trampled over before this ruling was established. <Poor George.> "So... I'm going to my place. See you around I guess. Try not to die?" she said as she was leaving. Why the hell did she say that!? It was so unnecessary! Well, what was done was done. She walked off throughout the immense chambers of the University. What George said was true. She noticed there were a dark red path, burgundy coloured and a baby blue one, each going to different directions, but both reaching the various classes. The burgundy one was the one that was made for women, and it was noticeable. While the classrooms were common for everyone, there was no necessity for men's roofs to be as tall as those for women, so the baby blue corridors were much less high in order to save money to construct the building. Noemi had read that many Universities were built like that ever since they started allowing both men and women studying together. She kinda wanted to sneak in into the baby blue corridor, seeing all the little guys together was kinda cute and she wanted to steal them, but it was not something you want to do on your first day. Eventually, she reached her room. As she entered, she saw her roommate. And more. "Hey gal! Woah you're gorgeous! You must be my new sister in arms, uh? Welcome to my coven, babe! How tall are you? Woah!" this woman was already way more energetic than she expected to find, but she didn't mind. In fact, she liked it. If there was one thing that Noemi didn't like in people was unfriendliness, and at least on a surface level this woman didn't seem to have that in her. "I'm tall... a lot ahah! I'm 7'9, but I'm aiming for the stars! I'm Noemi! Nice to meet you and... your friends?" she had three men sleeping in her bed with her. All cozed up around her body, they looked like puppies trying to heat themselves up around their mama-dog. "Laura, and yeah, those are my friends. I swear nothing indecent happened here. We just were watching a film together and they fell asleep, aren't they the cutest?" "I wouldn't have minded, y'all adults and free to do what you please." "Nono, we are just friends, I swear, but hey! I feel the same!" "Good, 'cause I'm planning to get some for myself ahahah!" Noemi wasn't the shiest person herself. She wasn't a nymphomaniac by any means, but she liked having erotic activities. Especially lactation. Ever since she started lactating it had become a huge kink for her. Her breasts were immense even for someone her size, and became even more engorged now that they were filled with milk. "Won't they get mad if you take men in your room though?" "Nah, as long as you're the one carrying them around, people don't really mind. So..." Laura gently got up and tidied her friends under the sheets, making sure not to wake them up. Now that she was standing, Noemi noticed that she was pretty big herself. She was 7'3 at the very least, but also very bulky; she definitely was in a fighting sport. "Let's get out of here; I wanna show you around."
  14. Hi all - this is a new story I'm working on. It's going to be structured in a series of vignettes - I've always loved the "I'm not a little girl! (really!)" series by @Alex Bridges so this sort of draws on the same style. There will be more to come - and this is really my first foray into ABDL fiction at all. So I appreciate any thoughts on it. Thanks! “Mike?....Michael? Wake up…c’mon…wake up.” I stirred from my sleep…i was laying on the couch…there was an unfamiliar cold feeling around my crotch. I looked up; my girlfriend, Alix, was lording over me, a look of concerned frustration on her face. “Michael…um…I think you had an accident in your sleep.” “No…I couldn’t have…” I stammered, my hand slipping down to feel it; the whole area was soaked; my shorts…the blanket…the cushion…”I must have spilled something” “Michael, c’mon,” Alix looked down at me with her hands on her hips. “It smells like piss…come on now…let’s get up and get this figured out.” She pulled the blanket up; the damage was apparent in the natural light of the room. “Jesus Christ Michael,” she shook her head. I knew she was sort of pissed or frustrated because she was using my full name. “Does this normally happen? Are you OK?" I stood up; the air hitting the cool wet patch leading to a chilliness overcoming me. I had had problems with bedwetting as a teenager, but it had been years. I had been feeling ok too; we had just gone on a long hike and had come back and I had passed out sitting next to her on the couch. “N..no,” I sort of murmured. “It must have been exhaustion.” “Maybe,” she said. “We did go a long way today I guess.” She stood silently for a moment. “Let me go throw this in the washer and we’ll figure out what to do next.” She walked off briskly and returned somewhat quickly with some cleaning supplies. As I stood there, half stunned, she sprayed some cleaner and scrubbed the wet spot. Then she turned her attention to me, setting the cleaning supplies down on the floor next to the couch. “Come on baby…let’s go get you cleaned up and out of those clothes.” She led me back toward the bathroom and had me lay down on the floor. There was a tub of baby wipes she always had sitting in her bathroom for her makeup, and she grabbed them and set them down beside me and removed my urine-soaked shorts and underwear. “I…I can do this, Alix,” my face grew red. “I can totally do this, please.” “Shh,” she said. “Let me help you. Please?” I nodded. A smile came across her face and she began wiping me. After a couple times over the nether regions, she asked, “Michael, do you have any other clothes we can put you in?” I thought about it. I hadn’t actually brought a change of clothes since I was planning on going back home after hiking with Alix today as I had a bunch of calls to prep for the next day. Fuck, I thought. “Uh um, actually, no, I don’t think I do,” I shrugged. “I guess I can just go commando?” “God no,” she laughed. “And risk you peeing further on other furniture? I don’t think so. And my undies are out of the question too. I really don’t want them getting soiled either. What ever will we do?” “I can’t just have you lay here on my bathroom floor the whole time until your clothes are dry can I?” She laughed at her own quip. “Wait a minute,” she stood up, “hold on, I got an idea.” She walked out and back toward her bedroom. She reappeared with a rectangular object that she was unfolding…it was a Pull-Up - like something a toddler would wear. “A diaper?” I asked. “It’s not a diaper,” she smirked, “It’s a Pull-Up. I was watching my niece whos still got bedwetting problems as a teen…poor girl...and she had a bag that got left behind. I mean, the bag says they’re for people about your size…” I mean was pretty skinny…but I really wasn’t feeling this. “Nah Alix, it’s OK, I can just go home.” “Michael, come on, don’t be silly…I want to have you here. I don’t want you to run off. But I don’t want you running around my house peeing on my furniture either. How about this? You let me put this on you…and we can go lay and cuddle and order some food and then…I’ll take you out of it later and we can have some grown-up time…deal?” I gazed back up at her, she had a glow about her. She really wanted this. Cuddling did sound nice though. “Ok…deal….” I said. “But you can’t tell anyone about any of this…and this is for today only. I’m not a bedwetter.” “Of course you aren’t,” she chuckled. "big kids go wet-wet at night all the time..." “But yes, it’s our secret. Pinky promise.” “Ok, let’s get this over with then.” I said, resigned to my infantile fate. She kneeled back down and put the pull-up around my ankles and shimmied it up my legs. It strangely fit like well…a diaper. I was today years old when I realized that children’s diapers would fit adults. “Ok, stand up.” I stood up. The bulk of the Pull-Up was both foreign and…oddly soft and comfortable. The colorful, juvenile owl on the front looked at me tauntingly as she pulled at the waist and ran her fingers through the leg holes. Seemingly satisfied, she grabbed my hand and started to walk me out. “Ok cuddle time.” We got to the bed and she gave me a couple taps on my now diapered butt. I climbed in her large, soft bed bed wearing the pull-up and t-shirt (that had somehow missed the deluge of piss earlier) and she stripped down to an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts. She climbed in and I slipped up next to her. I laid my head on her chest. She put my mouth on her nipple, and as I began to suckle into a lull of semi-conciousness, she patted my diapered butt rhythmically as she whispered “good baby…good baby” while I returned to the land of slumber.
  15. I had worked at Salem Municipal as a COBOL programmer for 18 years. I got the job straight out of community college as a two year stint and the next thing you know two years kept getting extended until today. I just finished a meeting with HR and our new IT manager Mary Hutchinson. Mary had joined the team as IT manager at the beginning of the year. The new mayor and council were focused on smaller government and lower taxes and Mary was brought in to find efficiencies in the system. She inherited a traditional IT department of twenty staff. Our current system was paid for since we have had it for over twenty years. We got it during the Y2K crisis. It was expensive at the time so no further major investments have been made since then. I was brought in to maintain the software as the company that sold the system had since shut down. I learned COBOL and was happy to continue maintaining the system, run user reports and make small enhancements as requested. It was a pretty chill job until today. In April it was announced that the bulk of our department had been outsourced to GSS (Government Support Services Inc.) Starting in May the network support and help desk had been transitioned to GSS. In my meeting I had found out that there was a project to transition from the old system to a new web based system also provided by GSS. I was expected to help the data migration team move to the new system over the summer and then there would be a package that included pay and health care benefits until the end of the year. I experienced the change in service with the help desk. Before, I could speak to one of the guys - now I had to put in a help desk ticket and wait. If a user wanted a new report they had to put in a ticket and I had to respond to the help desk ticket. They measured the time to respond and time to completion. The old help desk of four guys had disappeared. One of them applied and got work in the municipal works yard, another got a job with an outside consulting firm. One was left to help co-ordinate things in the transition and another was already posted to some exotic position in the Bahamas or something. I think he got the deluxe counseling services where they do a complete assessment of your skills and they found some sort of service management position for him. Part of my package also included the deluxe counseling service. I understand not everyone was offered that package but, according to Mary, my profile afforded them the opportunity to offer the comprehensive outplacement service. They thought it would make a dramatic change in my life. After the meeting with HR I was in shock! Mary suggested that I talk it over with one of the staff or take the rest of day off to process things and set up my first appointment. I returned to my cubicle completely dumbfounded and I am sure it showed in my face. I felt numb when Kim came by and hung over my cubicle just to check and see how I was doing. I liked Kim, she was a web design/marketing communication person they hired out of college last summer. I really liked her, her chestnut brown hair flowed easily over her shoulders and framed a sweet face and covered her greatest assets, but she had positioned herself such that her assets were also covered by the cubicle divider. Her warm brown eyes showed compassion as she inquired as to how I was feeling and if I had any thoughts for the next steps. I wasn’t sure as I was still getting over the shock of the changes and wasn’t sure that I was that employable and I didn’t want to be on the street. She encouraged me to take the counseling that Mary had arranged for me. “They will cover everything for you and you may be surprised where you end up” she said as smiled warmly and then continued on her way. I flipped through the package and found the card for Marie Couche, her title was Occupation Counselor at AB Occupational Integration Services Inc. One guy here got a sweet gig in the Bahamas, I am not the adventurous type, but what could it hurt to see what they have for me? Besides, anywhere is better than being on the street. I was too nervous to call her on the phone so I sent an email and suggested I would be available on Thursday afternoon. The rest of the day I was in a fog. I don’t even remember going home, but I showed up at home and let the landlady know that I got my notice. She was concerned and invited me in for dinner. She was happy knowing that I had a package until the end of the year. Thursday afternoon I met Marie and she explained they were a full service agency and would take care of all me occupational adjustment needs. We started with a battery of tests including a personality assessment, what I liked about the job and my aspirations. It became evident I didn’t really have any aspirations. I was just happy plugging along and didn’t want to worry about paying bills or ending up on the street. We concluded the session with an overview plan for the next two months that included a doctor’s assessment and a trip to the dentist all to ensure I was in top notch shape and could endure the stress of change. She also gave me a list of links to articles and some podcasts. I was to listen all of the podcasts and do the medical visits before our next meeting in two weeks. When we met again the counselor had nailed it. I had no aspirations and it appeared I would be happy to fritter away my life amounting to nothing. The sad reality was that if I died today there would be no one at my funeral. What a pathetic life! She had some options for me that could make a difference in my life. The first option was one taken by a help desk colleague to take job at the municipal works, it paid the bills. They would need another unskilled laborer to help clear snow and fix pot holes. My fitness level was fair, but I doubted that I could survive that for long. The second option was a job opening in Colorado. This meant a big move with no supports in place. The third option that blew me away was to be retrained starting as a baby. She thought this option would fit me best because I would not have to worry about paying bills or doing anything but please my new mommy. If I became a baby again I thought life would be pretty chill. I was quizzed further on my family and friends and it was not that I had any strong ties with anyone other than my landlady. As it turned out the stark reality was that I would not be missed. I had the freedom to take a job anywhere or do anything and I had nothing holding me back other than my lack of motivation to move on. I suspected that a week after the municipality moved to the new system that the staff that I supported would soon forget me. I had a week to think about the baby option and Mary gave me some pod casts about the adult baby lifestyle to listen to. If I was happy with that option my life would change significantly once I was finished with work. Mary did reinforce one more thing. I was not to talk about this option to anyone. This was something just for me to consider. I was back in a fog as I left the appointment as I thought about what it would be like to be a baby again. I had a week to listen to the podcasts and think about a totally new life. Friday I was back in my cubicle working through the data migrations. The test transition to the new system was going as well as could be expected. Kim was assigned to train the utilities department on the inventory and purchasing functions and came by to review the migrated data and to do a test run before the afternoon training. She asked how the job search was going and asked if there were any interesting options. I mentioned there were a few options including a position in Colorado that may fit. Next day I thought I would do a run. In earlier days I would run through the park and commune with the trees on a weekly basis. I thought it would be good to do it again and listen to one of those podcasts that Marie gave me. As I got to the entrance of the park I thought I saw Kim. It was her. She waited for me to come to her and asked me if I wanted to join her on her run through the woods. The podcast was turned off and we started our run together. I always liked her, and she was attractive. Her toned body reflected well in the early sunlight. I worked hard to keep pace with her. I would glance over to see her breasts bounce in rhythm to her strides. Between huffing and puffing I replied to her comments and questions about work, the project and my future prospects. Forty minutes seemed like five as we circled back to our starting point. As we stopped I bent down to recover my breath with my hands holding me up on my knees looking up at her. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her breasts and woke up from stupor as she said “I am up here.” She put her hands under her breasts and pushed them up and said “Sorry Sweetie, these are for boyfriends and babies only.” I straightened up and apologized. She seemed okay and let it go with a “see you on Monday.” We went our separate ways. I returned home finishing the podcast, showered and thought about feeding off of those beautiful breasts reserved for boyfriends and babies. Maybe as an adult baby she would let me have a try. I don’t know where that thought came from. It was weird since I was almost old enough to be her dad. The weekend was wasted away as usual except I took time to listen to the podcasts given to me by Marie. By Sunday night I was ready to commit to be an adult baby. During my next meeting with Marie we confirmed that the best course of action for me would be to start over again as an adult baby. Then she covered the paperwork. It required that I sign a power of attorney and that I get independent advice and be witnessed by a Lawyer. She referred me to Anne Howe a local lawyer. With the POA the company could negotiate an even better package for me as well as full control over my adoption process. The details of the training and placement would wait until all the paperwork was complete. I was to advise people that I was considering a placement out of state and it would probably be in Colorado. The company would take care of my placement including the timing of concluding my rental agreement. They would have control my finances and ensure that all the bills were paid and that I exited with a clean slate. I did not have to worry about thing. On the pretext of looking for a job I still scheduled my weekly meetings with Marie. Next week would be with the lawyer to deal with the legal issues; meanwhile Marie gave me a few more podcasts to listen to in the evenings. The data migration was going well, in fact too well. I could see I would be out of my position early. This new group knew what they were doing. When I arrived at my next meeting with Marie she reviewed the POA and signed contracts forwarded from the lawyer and the progress of the migration project. She announced that they had negotiated an extension of my benefits and that my paid vacation would start in mid-August. This would fit with my initial training and placement. She also arranged for the termination of my rental agreement with my landlady and the moving and storage of my personal effects from the suite after I would be finished with work and starting my training. Finally we had agreed on the cover story. They had found a work placement for me in Fort Collins Colorado starting in October since the truth of my real choice would be too weird. The next week, my appointment was spent at the medical clinic where they took more samples, surprised me with a chip implant and gave me a prescription to be filled and used up before I started my new placement. The next set of podcasts I remembered had something to do with diapers, but I could not remember the details. The podcast of how to act like a baby pulled no punches. I was worried it was going to show while I was at work, but there were no comments or reactions other than congratulations for the new job starting in October. In the last week of work the system had cut over and was working well. I had to stick around just in case things blew up and nothing happened so I spent my time making sure everything was filed away and cleaned up my work area. In the last meeting with Marie she gave me instructions on how I was to be processed. After all the goodbyes were said I was to check into the Holiday Inn Express by 6:00 and make myself comfortable and wait until someone came to my room to pick me up. They would take care of everything. Your days of worrying about paying bills or being on the street would be over.
  16. Hi folks - welcome to the third and final installment of my Mike and Katie short story series. All characters 18+ and of course comments and critique are welcome! Later At Daycare (or Mike and Katie Part 3) Mike knelt on the floor of the playroom, dutifully picking up Duplo bricks one-by-one and dropping them into the tub at his side. He was trying to drag this task out for as long as possible. He didn’t want to have to talk to Miss Katie right now. Prolonging this little clean-up job would prevent that. Throwing the Duplo tub was naughty - he knew that - but it wasn’t such a huge deal. She didn’t have to put him in timeout for something as trivial as a little tantrum. And it seemed especially unfair that he was now missing outside time. He glanced up at Katie and saw that she was watching him. He quickly looked back down and continued to pick up the pieces of his little tantrum. There was another, more tactile, reason why he was avoiding her company and her gaze: Every time he shifted his posture, even a little bit, the rapidly cooling mess in his training pants shifted as well. He couldn’t say with any certainty how or when it had happened. One minute he was picking up colorful bricks in clean training pants, and the next he was doing so with a heavy warmth against his bottom. He must have zoned out briefly, although he had no recollection of that or of snapping back. It was more like he had jumped forward in time all of a sudden. True, he had known he needed to go, (and he probably should have alerted Miss Katie to that much earlier) but he definitely hadn’t known he was going. He didn’t want Miss Katie to find out. Partly because this wasn’t a teeny little accident that could be quickly remedied with a few extra wipes. But more importantly, because with every second that passed, he was further breaking the rule about telling her when he’d had an accident. She’d already had to change his wet undies twice today. What was she going to think if she found out he was poopy? He was in too deep to turn back now. Maybe if he just kept to himself and continued quietly cleaning up the toys, Katie wouldn’t notice until it was time to go home, and then Sandra could change him in privacy. He glanced up again. Katie was still watching him, and he wasn’t quite sure he liked the expression. It was like she was assessing him. In the back of his mind, he knew what it meant. It was the same look Sandra used to give him before she asked if he needed to go potty (whether she suspected he still needed to go or not). Thankfully, she had gotten off his case about that in recent weeks. He looked back down, attempting a nonchalant, relaxed, and innocent posture/ expression. He hoped the smell wasn’t too bad. Oddly enough, it didn’t bother him anymore. In fact, it was super easy just to ignore it or even forget about it unless someone commented. He continued picking up the bricks, one by one, the mess further cooling against him, reminding him of his predicament. Before re-experiencing them firsthand, Mike had always assumed that poopy pants/ diapers felt like warm mush. And they did - at least at first. But what most people can’t remember (at least those not among the ranks of the incontinent), is that diapers and some training pants are cut with extra room in the seat, and that once a mess is deposited there, most of it sits away from the skin (unless the wearer is sitting down) and cools to room temperature fairly rapidly. The actual feeling of “being poopy”, in the infantile sense of the term, isn’t so much mushy warmth as it is sticky clamminess. It’s a decidedly babyish feeling because it means you’ve had poop in your pants for more than a few minutes, and that it happened in a garment that is designed to catch it. Mike was on all fours, reaching for a more distant block when he felt a tug at his rear waistband. He whirled his head around to see Katie bending over him, and peering down the back of his pants. He tried to turn away from her, but she was experienced at this, and she held him firmly in place with her other arm. Katie let his pants go with a snap, and turned him to face her, pushing him back so that he was looking up at her and his bottom was resting on his heels again: “Mike, did you go poopy in your pants?”, she asked gently, but firmly. He looked down without saying anything. As he did, he became aware that he was peeing. He wasn’t even sure how long the stream had been going, but it wasn’t soaking through his shorts yet, so probably not very long. Or maybe it was just a little tinkle. He sometimes did those these days. Those were the hardest to control, because his bladder never got full enough to feel like he needed to go: a sudden gush of warmth into the padding around his crotch was the only indication that his bladder had been filling. His control was definitely slipping. But there was no time to think about that now because Katie was demanding answers about other, more blushy aspects of his toileting. “Mike - look at me please. I asked you a question. Did you poop in your pants? Yes or no?” He looked up at her, tears starting to well up in his eyes. It was so unfair! If she hadn’t made him pick up the Duplo, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He never went potty in his pants during outside time (partly because Katie was very diligent about checking him and taking him to the toilet beforehand along with everyone else). For a moment, he considered lying. But he knew he was caught. She had seen the mess on his backside. There was no getting out of it now. “Yes Miss Katie”, he mumbled sheepishly, looking back up at her and feeling the stream in the front of his pants dissipate. At least that little problem had stopped. “Yes. You did. Thank you for not lying to me. But you know you’re supposed to come tell me if you’ve had an accident. So why didn’t you come tell me?” “I didn’t want you to think I was a baby” was Mike’s straightforward reply. Katie’s faced softened at this familiar but immature response. “Sweetie, having an accident doesn’t make you a baby. The difference between big boys and babies is what happens after. When babies go potty in their pants, they usually don’t tell anyone. In fact that’s the main reason why they have to wear diapers, because diapers hold the tinkle and poop in without making any mess until an adult finds out. But you don’t wear diapers do you? - at least not when you aren’t sleeping?” Mike shook his head “no”. He was glad he could provide such a strong answer to this important question! “That’s right! You don’t have to wear diapers because when you make pee pee or poopy in your pants you come and tell me or one of the other teachers straight away, don’t you?” Mike hesitated briefly, then nodded in the affirmative. It wasn’t strictly true. Case in point, today. And it was even worse outside of daycare. In fact, Sandra had actually asked him to stop “making a fuss” about the condition of his pants when she was busy (which seemed to be most of the time) or when they were out and about. He would just go in his training pants and wait for her to change him. Last week he had broken that new, “no fuss rule” while they were browsing the aisles at Target. In fact, he had demanded that Sandra take him to the toilet for an urgent number 2, and she had begrudgingly complied. But when they got to the family restroom she had refused to remove his overalls, instead sitting him fully clothed on the toilet, and telling him it was up to him whether he left dirty and wet, or clean and dry, but either way his pants weren’t coming off now until after lunch. Unfortunately, his muscle memory was still strong, even if his toilet training wasn’t, and he’d found it impossible to hold it once she had sat him down on the seat. His sphincter just released, and he started pushing involuntarily, going quite red in the face while Sandra watched, patted his head, and teased him momentarily about what he was doing. Sandra wasn’t satisfied with this level of humiliation though. He was in mid-push when she suddenly grabbed his hands, yanked him off the toilet, and pulled him out the family restroom door, and back into the brightly lit store, keeping a firm grip on one hand as she made a beeline towards the back. The large turd he had been working on was stuck halfway out of his bottom, and he was unable to pinch it off without stopping, which Sandra of course refused to do. He was forced into an awkward cowboy waddle as he slowly continued to mess his pants while following Sandra through the store. They had finally come to a stop in the diaper aisle, where Sandra pretended to browse the various brands, refusing to leave until he finished making poopy. The smiling babies on the packages seemed to mock him as he pushed out a second round of much softer poop into the seat of his trainers before also drenching the front - all while maintaining a classic “toddler squat.” Sandra had even had to explain to a disapproving young mother that Mike was one of the Littles from the Regression Center, provoking further embarrassment. Miss Katie wasn’t privy to any of these memories though, and she was still talking about what had happened here, today and with no help from Sandra: “…If I can’t trust you to tell me when you’re wet or stinky, then I think you need to be wearing diapers when you are here. And I can’t have a Little Helper who wears diapers because that’s not setting a good example for the others. You will need to go to the toddler classroom if you want to start going poopy in your pants without telling a teacher. OK?” Despite his embarrassment, Mike felt the need to object to this phrasing. “I don’t ‘want to start going poopy in my pants’ - it was an accident! It just came out on its own.” Katie decided to let him hold onto at least some of his dignity for the moment, even though she was pretty sure she had watched him actively push this particular load into his pants. She simply nodded that she understood, looked at him appraisingly for a moment, then held out her hand, pulling him to his feet, and leading him towards the door while commenting: “Well, for what it’s worth, you actually have pretty good timing, kiddo. The diaper changing area should be free in the toddler room right now.” Mike held back a sob and clenched his fist with his free hand to avoid putting his thumb in his mouth. As they left the classroom, Katie grabbed a fresh pair of his training pants and a pack of wipes that had appeared conveniently on the cabinet next to the door. She kept a tight hold on his hand as they left the preschool classroom and turned down the hall. The toddlers and preschoolers had shared outside time, and it was naptime for the infants, so the whole place was uncharacteristically quiet. There was nothing but the sound of their shoes on the floor and the creek of the hinge as they made their way into the darkened toddler classroom. Miss Julie, the head toddler teacher, was eating an early lunch inside. She looked up and smiled good-naturedly when she saw Mike and Katie. It was immediately obvious why they were visiting, but Katie still felt the need to explain: “Hi Julie - You remember Mike, my Little Helper, right?…That’s right, Sandra’s little boy, err…husband. Anyway, Mike had a pretty big accident, and I need to get him cleaned up before outside time is over. Is it OK if we use the changing table really quick?” Julie replied in the affirmative, pointing towards the clock and reminding Katie that she didn’t have long. The diaper changing room was very different to the stark whiteness of the staff bathroom he was more used to being changed in. It was painted in bright colors, and there were no potties or toilets in here, just two large wooden changing tables along one wall. The other wall was dominated by a large picture window, facing out into the main toddler classroom. With the lights on, Miss Julie would be able to see every gory detail of his change from her desk. Above the changing tables were cubbies, each labeled with a child’s name, containing neat stacks of diapers and other changing supplies. He shuddered. Was this his fate? Would his name end up on one of the unoccupied cubicles soon? The toddler classroom was ADA compliant, meaning that the changing tables were large enough to accommodate a much larger child with developmental disabilities. Sunny Hills didn’t currently have any special needs clients, but the tables did come in handy when a Little Helper had a big accident. Mike’s calves and ankles would hang off the table if he straightened his legs, but it was otherwise more than adequate to accommodate him. Katie was moving quickly. She had him sit on a low chair that was by the door (apologizing when she saw his facial expression as his bottom contacted the hard seat), and then she knelt down and took off his shoes and socks, catching a fresh whiff of his pants in the process. “Pee-ew! You might win the prize for biggest stink today, buddy! Let’s clean you up and get you smelling like a big boy again”, said Katie, with a smile and poke to his belly. The stern-ness was gone from her voice now. She was talking to him like Sandra did when she was babying him. The combination of her soft instructions and the cheerful setting melted any remaining resistance he might have had in a way that felt almost hypnotic. He wanted to be a good boy for Katie during his change. He wanted her to tell him what to do and to make all the decisions right now using that same gentle voice. Katie had him stand back up so she could pull down his shorts and help him step out, leaving Mike standing there in just his heavily soiled and wet training pants. At this point, Mike kind of wished that he was wearing one of the daytime diapers he was normally opposed to (even on a strictly “just in case” basis). At least they would better hide the evidence of his incontinence. The wet stain in the front in the front of his trainers and the prominent bulge in the seat left nothing to Katie’s imagination. He had clearly done ALL his poopy and tinkles in his pants. There was nothing left for the toilet, and thus no point visiting. Katie opened a small drawer under the table and removed a pair of vinyl gloves, which she put on. She also removed a thin plastic bag and set it at the head of the table. Then she turned back to him. Mike had expected Katie to make him lie down before removing his training pants, but instead, she knelt again and gingerly pulled the pants down his legs, taking care to avoid skin contact as much as possible. As he stepped out, he was treated to the same unpleasant view as Katie. At least it was fairly firm and well contained. Strictly speaking, the daycare guidebook instructed her to “shake or scrape” the contents of his soiled pants into a toilet before bagging them up. No one ever did that though. If shit happened in anything other than a diaper at Sunny Hills, it got sent home intact for the parents to dispose of. She wrapped up his poopy trainers in his wet shorts and tied them both into the plastic bag, placing it on the changing table. Standing there, naked from the waist down with a very dirty bottom illuminated by the bright fluorescents was the low point of the whole process for Mike. He started to cry a little as Katie turned back to him to inspect his bottom more closely. She gave him a few quick wipes while he stood there, and then she asked him to hop up on the table so that she could clean him more carefully. Katie was glad that Sandra had opted for the laser hair removal treatment at the regression center. It made cleanup a lot easier, and seeing a hairy crotch adorned in this mess would be downright weird. She noticed he was getting a little rashy in spots, so when she was finished wiping, she reached up and grabbed a tube of diaper cream from one of the cubicles. She was sure the owner wouldn’t mind sharing. She removed her gloves, pushed his legs up and back again, and started spreading cream with two fingers down his crack and up to the base of his hairless balls. She watched his face as she did this, hoping he would relax now that the change was almost finished. Applying the sweet smelling cream often had a calming, almost mesmerizing effect on her charges. But Mike was still visibly upset. In fact, more so than when they had started the change. She lowered his legs down and wiped the cream off her fingers with a spare wipe as she tried to sooth him: “Mike, sweetie, what’s wrong? It was just an accident. It’s not a big deal. You’re all clean now. It’s like it never happened. That’s the nice thing about getting changed isn’t it?” Mike gave a little nod and a hitching sigh. She tried a different tack: “I’m not mad about you not telling me about it. We can just try to do better next time, OK?…Accidents happen to everyone don’t they? I’m sure you will do poopies in the potty for me tomorrow, but even if you don’t, I won’t be mad about that either. All I ask is that you come tell me so I can get you changed quickly. Besides, it’s kind of nice getting to spend this one-on-one time together isn’t it?” Mike didn’t respond this time. He just laid there, still visibly upset. She pulled the fresh trainers up his legs and pulled him up to a sitting position, swinging his legs out over the side of the table so that one leg was on either side of her hips. Then she reached up and gently pulled his shirt back down over his belly, finishing with a quick pat to his freshly padded groin. She’d have to find him some clean shorts when they got back to class. She wondered briefly (but not for the first time) where Sandra had found such thick,adult-sized training pants. They were basically pull-on cloth diapers, except the sides did not tear away or snap open (making cleanup for an accident like the one she’d just changed a more delicate process). He definitely needed such a high level of protection. Especially lately. In fact, she wondered if MIke was using the potty at all at home anymore, or if Sandra was just letting him treat the trainers like a diaper? It certainly seemed to be the latter. She’d been meaning to have a well-rehearsed chat with Sandra about the importance of maintaining consistency between toilet learning/ procedures at home and preschool, but she also knew it was different in Mike’s case since he was enrolled in a program that was actively pushing him towards at least some loss of control. Sandra had never been straightforward with her about how “young” she intended Mike to go, (the response was always something along the lines of: “We’ll see. I’ll know we’ve gotten there when I see it”). Katie didn’t know what the “it” was, but it was clear to her at least that Mike had regressed beyond a point where she would normally recommend starting potty training. He just wasn’t ready anymore. And she had a professional opinion on the matter. He was almost never dry now when she checked him or took him to the toilet, and being wet didn’t seem to bother him. He was also wetting more frequently and in smaller amounts. He would wake up soaked after every nap time. All of these were ominous signs in terms of toilet training readiness. The last vestiges of his prior training were the only things keeping him out of the full time diapers game. And now, just 2 weeks into September, even the kids that were newly graduated to her classroom from the toddler room were outpacing him, and not just in terms of toileting. Today’s tantrum episode was just the latest evidence of a broader trend. She knew that he was finding some of the structured learning activities more difficult now, which was adding to his propensity for frustration and acting out. He was also zoning out more frequently, during which times he was functionally no different from a 2 year old, or maybe even younger. She wasn’t sure if he understood even the most simple instructions or questions at these times. He’d sit there drooling and babbling to himself or smiling up at her adoringly until he snapped back to the present, leaving him disoriented and often a little embarrassed. Mike would probably be happier and less self conscious if he started helping here, in the toddler classroom, where there were no “accidents” and stinky or wet diapers went unnoticed by everyone except the staff. But she also felt an obligation to both Mike and Sandra to keep him with her for as long as she could. Because they had a shared history. And because taking care of Mike in this way, as he lost his grip on his independent self, was her share of the penance for what had happened between them 6 years ago. She moved herself closer in to him, her baby bump just barely making contact with his padded crotch as she pulled his head to her chest. She held him like that for a few minutes without saying anything, just rocking him, rubbing his back, and shushing gently as he continued to cry. She remembered that he had nuzzled into her like this once before, only under decidedly more adult circumstances. It had only happened once, and Mike had been her first. She was just 20 years old at the time, but already more mature than Mike had been at 26 (or now ever would be). They had gone to the guest room because Mike wasn’t comfortable in the bed he normally shared with Sandra. He had actually been quite shy and indecisive about the whole thing, which she found irresistible. She took control, putting his hands on her breasts and then shoving them down her pants while she stroked him through his, and later undressing first herself and then him. She could vividly recall that moment just prior to penetration, as she knelt over him on all fours, her face just inches from his as he thrust his hips upwards trying to make contact with her most sensitive area. His eyes had been so hungry. He wanted her. At first, it had felt amazing. Better than she had imagined in fact, and she had imagined plenty in her bed, in the bath, and even once in the bathroom of her parents house while Mike stood outside during a dinner party, quietly knocking and telling her through the door that he “needed the toilet, please!” Unfortunately though, the actual sex was over almost as soon as it started, and it ended badly. She remembered the feeling of his cum oozing out onto her upper thigh while she dressed in the dark. Other than that, her most vivid memories of what came after were his copious apologies for not pulling out in time, followed by actual tears over betraying Sandra. “The more things change, the more they stay the same”, she thought ruefully as she once again held Mike while he snuffled and cried into her chest about an accident. They had never spoken of that night again. And he had sort of avoided her after that, which had hurt a little. Yes, she had led the briefest of physical affairs (prefaced by a much longer emotional one). But her part In this tale was also one of a broken heart. She had loved Mike. And she had never really been able to show it - not to him, and especially not to Sandra. Part of her wished she could forget like he had. That would be better. It would be easier. She continued to rock him gently, still making little shushing noises. They would need to move in a few minutes, but she needed to get him calmed down before that could happen. The last thing she wanted was for some parent to find her leading a crying regressed little down the hallway in his underpants. “Mike, I can’t help fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, and we can’t stay in here forever. So PLEASE tell me so that I can help make it all better, sweetheart.” And so he did. Sitting there on the toddler changing table, his not-quite-diaper pressed against her belly as she held him like a baby, he told her about something that wasn’t very babyish. Something that made his penis stiffen against her as he talked about it. “Miss Katie…I mean, Katie…I…I, remember. I remember us. From before.” Katie didn’t respond. She had read in the Little Helpers guidebook that these regressive breaks could happen, especially after an emotional event. It was like one of his zone outs, only in reverse. They weren’t supposed to last long, and the guidebook had given clear instructions on how to deal with them - namely by redirecting the little’s attention to a recent and more “age appropriate” memory. But for now, she wanted to hear what Mike had to say. She could feel him hardening through his trainers. “I remembered just now while you were…changing me. Sometimes I can remember things. Things from when I was…big…but they don’t always make sense because I’m also little…and, and…we did something bad, Katie. We…we kissed. I touched you. We…had sex,” he said. He started sobbing again. Katie pulled him tighter to her, aware that he was fully erect now. She was filled with a curious mixture of care for Mike and horror at the risks of him carrying this memory around and possibly sharing it with others. He couldn’t be trusted with secrets anymore. Especially not this one. She knew what she had to do. She would have to induce a nuclear-level zone out. Hopefully it would be enough to erase this little episode and the memories that triggered it without inducing a major step change in his regression. She wondered briefly what would happen if she returned Mike to Sandra drooling and unable to form a complete sentence? It was a risk she’d have to take. She’d need to act fast while she still had his undivided attention (on multiple levels). Katie composed herself for a moment before starting to speak in her most gentle, nurturing tone of voice. “Oh Mike”, she said, pressing his head firmly to her chest with one hand, the other reaching around to pat his padded bottom. “That was such a long time ago, sweetie. Things are different now, aren’t they?… “…Everything is going to be OK. It’s good you remember. Because we liked eachother back then didn’t we? We were friends then right? And we still are, just in different ways. I’m friends with all the little boys I look after - even little stinkers like you!” She tickled his sides suddenly as she said this, provoking a small giggle from Mike and a gush of urine into the front of his training pants. “I know it’s not always easy being little is it? You need someone to look after you all the time now…don’t you sweetheart?…” “…Mmhmm. That must feel so babyish. Having everything done for you, or done to you. It’s hard to be a big boy when everyone treats you like a little baby isn’t it? Mike shook his head, “yes” feeling her breasts bounce against his face as he did. He liked this feeling of safety with his face hidden in Katie’s soft shirt. He was calmer now. Katie was so nice. She was rubbing her fingers up and down his back in a way that gave him little shivers down his spine. “Although, sometimes you do things that make people think you are a little boy who needs to be treated just like a baby? Isn’t that right, Mike? Do you do baby things sometimes?” Without thinking about it, Mike nodded and then rattled off a short list of behaviors that Katie agreed were indeed very babyish. He wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about telling Katie about these things. Besides, she had witnessed a lot of them herself “And what about your thoughts, sweetie? Do you sometimes think like a baby? Is that maybe why you made a poopy in your pants right in front of me today? Did you forget you weren’t wearing a diaper?” Mike nodded. He didn’t care if Miss Katie knew that. In fact, it sort of justified it in some ways. “I thought so. That’s OK. I don’t mind. You can be as babyish as you want when you are with me. I won’t tell anyone. It can be our little secret.” She punctuated this last statement with another little tickle to his sides. Mike smiled and nodded, his face still buried in her chest. Her tone was quieter now, almost a whisper into his ear as if she were telling him the most important of secrets. “Besides, I have to confess that I think you’re much cuter like this, kiddo. I love the time we get to spend together. I even like changing your wet and dirty diapers!” Mike decided not to correct her on the difference between training pants and diapers. He was starting to feel very contented and warm in her arms. He hadn’t even noticed that his erection had softened. He relaxed more fully against her, sighing and smelling that sweet perfume she wore. He still couldn’t quite place it, but he had decided a while ago that it smelled most like pancakes. With syrup. Syrupy pancakes that Miss Katie had cut up for him. Cut up, syrupy pancakes she was feeding him in a highchair in the kitchen while she gently teased him about how sticky his face and fingers were… He snapped himself back with a jerk of his head. He had no idea how much time had passed, but it didn’t matter. Miss Katie just pulled him back firmly into her and told him to be a good boy and listen to her story. And as she spoke, he started to drift again, finding that he could remember every detail so vividly just after she spoke about it. It was as if she were unlocking new memories in his mind. Katie told him the story of his poopy accident at the park last week. Except in this story, he wasn’t with Sandra. He was with Katie. And he was little. And not just in his head. His body too. He was wearing overalls, a red tee shirt, and Velcro shoes that lit up when he walked. Under his overalls, he was wearing something crinkly and soft. Not as thick as a diaper though, because he was almost too big for daytime diapers wasn’t he? Yes everyone could see that, and Mike could see it too. Could he remember what he was wearing under his overalls? That’s right! It was his pull up. And it wasn’t a dry pull up was it? No, it was all puffy and soggy because he had done a big tinkle in it on the car ride to the park. Miss Katie had noticed he was wet when she got him out of his car seat, but there were no leaks, so it was OK. Because pull ups were just like diapers once you wet in them, weren’t they? Miss Katie could just change him later, and if he needed to do more potty before then, he could just go in his pull up. Mike was more than happy to agree to this plan - changes were boring and they had just gotten there. Katie reminded him all about how he had made friends with some other babies in the park, and how they were all playing so nicely together in the sandbox (or more accurately, playing alongside eachother). He remembered how cute he looked, playing in his little overall outfit among his new friends. The other mommies were nice too. Then she reminded him how one of those other moms had called her attention to his posture and body language as he tensed and started to push. Mike clearly remembered doing that, and how it felt as the mess pushed into his pull-up. And then Katie confessed that she had decided to just let him finish without trying to intervene. Without reminding him that he was a big boy. And without telling him that she didn’t have any spare pull ups left to put on him. Because it was probably too late already wasn’t it? And because he had also decided that he didn’t need to be a big boy. At least not all the time, right? In fact, they had invented something called the “baby game” that day. Did he remember the baby game? Did he remember the rules? That’s right! All you had to do was act and think like a baby! You had to do both to make it work. And it turned out Mike was very good at both. He must have been playing it already when he dirtied his pants in the sandbox, hadn’t he? Yes, and that was OK. Because it was just a game wasn’t it? And Miss Katie had everything she needed to help him play the game correctly, didn’t she? Katie helped Mike remember how she had lifted him out of the sandbox and sniffed his bottom before carrying him on her hip over to the park bench. He remembered the feeling of his soggy crotch pressing against her hip while the mush in his pants spread further across his bum. She had sat him down next to the other mommy she had been talking to while she readied his changing supplies. She reminded him that he hadn’t felt shy at all, even though the other mommy could probably smell his stinky bottom. Because she knew he was playing the baby game too. Mike smiled at this. That other mommy had been so nice hadn’t she? He remembered giggling while she talked to him, before he was whisked off the bench and laid on a changing mat right there in the grass in front of Katie’s spot. Katie began describing the details of the change in great detail now, interspersing her narrative with questions: Did he remember how it felt when she pulled off his overalls leaving him lying there in just a soiled and wet pull up? Did he remember how good it felt when she pushed his legs back to wipe him? Could he remember what the wipes smelled like? Did he remember what his bare legs looked like, up in the air, and pointing towards the clouds? Did he remember sucking his fingers and smiling up at her when she was putting diaper cream on him? He had been nodding along as she fired off all these questions, but now they combined into such a vivid mental image that it completely overwhelmed his thoughts. He was flooded with dopamine and feelings of pure bliss snd contentment. It was like an orgasm, only entirely cerebral. He was no longer sure if this was happening now or if it was still just a memory. He moaned softly while Katie rocked him and continued whispering soft words he couldn’t quite make out anymore. Katie handed him a diaper to hold while she balled up his dirty pull up and cleaned the cream off her hands with a spare wipe. He remembered turning it over in his hands to see Mickey smiling at him from the front. He pressed it to his nose. It smelled good. He remembered Katie asking in a singsong voice if she could borrow his diaper for a minute and smiling back at her as he handed it back to her like a good boy. He remembered her lifting his legs and sliding the diaper under him and how it felt when she lowered him onto it. But instead of pulling it up right away, Katie had instead paused and crawled forward over him on all fours, bringing her face down and level with his as he lay half naked underneath her, the crisp, clean diaper sticking up from between his bare legs. She had looked intently into his eyes as she spoke in a more serious tone, and it was so real - so intense - like she was looking into his eyes right now. But that was impossible because he was at the park with her. Having his diaper changed. “Mike, sweetheart, before I put this diaper on you, I need to know if you can keep it a secret? Because it’s just for when we are playing the baby game. If Sandra or the other teachers at daycare found out that I put a diaper on you, they might think that you need to wear them all the time. And then you would be a baby for real, wouldn’t you? And we don’t want that do we? No, we don’t.” “So, if you want to keep playing the baby game, then this diaper has to be our little secret. And if Sandra asks about it, you definitely can’t tell her that I had to put a diaper on you because you went stinky in your pants, OK?” Mike nodded slowly and solemnly, prompting Katie to smile and tap his nose before reaching down and taping his diaper snugly around him. She finished with a quick pat to his crotch, declaring him her clean and dry little helper. Mike just beamed at her, unable to avert his eyes from her face. He knew there was something special and secret about Katie, but he hadn’t quite been able to remember what it was until now. But that was OK, because Miss Katie remembered, and she took care of everything. All he had to do was keep their baby game secret. He could do that - at least until he decided to start playing the baby game with Sandra. Katie bent down and kissed him on the forehead, telling him what a good boy he was and giving his sides another little tickle. He could hear himself laughing and giggling as she did so… And then he was back. Still sitting on the changing table in just a tee shirt and hid trainers, his padded crotch still pressed against Katie’s front and his legs on either side of her hips. And she was still tickling him mercilessly while kissing him all over his face and expressing delight that she had found her happy little boy again. She released him from her embrace, reached up and grabbed a tissue from the shelf above, and held it over his nose, instructing him to blow. Mike tried, but for some reason he couldn’t work out how to do it. He looked up at Katie with a bewildered expression, but she just laughed and used the old squeeze and pull technique. She helped him down off the changing table, took his hand, and led him back to her classroom while he prattled on about what they were going to do for the rest of the day and how much he liked being her Little Helper. Because they liked each other. And they had a special secret that was just between the two of them. And no one could take that away from either of them. Ever.
  17. Introduction and PSA Despite my best efforts, I have experienced the dreaded ‘Con Drop.’ While at a convention a few weeks ago, I thought of this story and couldn’t shake it, so now, in the midst of ‘Con Drop,’ I went ahead and plowed through this story in an effort to revel in the wonderful time I had there, write a new story that I couldn’t get out of my head, and provide a relief from the post-event blues I know many of us are experiencing who participated. On a side note, this particular convention was absolutely amazing, and I just wanted to say thank you to all the presenters, hosts, and even participants of the event. It was truly magical, and I will be eagerly awaiting next year. I won’t mention it by name or acknowledge any comments regarding it, but if you know, you know. “If you’re not having fun, you’re doing it wrong. If you don’t have consent, move along.” I really love this saying that we had there, and I wish it was one of the elements that could be brought into the real world more from the event. I know some already live it, but I know others don’t. All that being said, I know this community is a bit of a tight secret, so despite some activities where I met other authors or content creators, I will not be mentioning them by name or the events that I took part in, as I do not have their consent to write about them. I was in awe of meeting them and had a lot of fun, but I can respect blanket anonymity to all their identities. To further protect identities and locations, I will be using a name generator and generalities about the hotel, respectfully. Any references to specific people from the convention itself are merely coincidental or are only meant in a general sense (littles, caregivers, puppies, etc.). The real event will only serve to set the stage and framework for some of the events in this story. Beyond that, the main character is not a consenting character with the overall plot. Just because they took part in a fantasy scenario, does not mean they consent to have this element take over their life and I know that full well. Additionally, the main character will not follow or will just simply forget about some of the general rules in place. The actual convention is pretty safe, and this scenario is only meant to be a fantasy of what could happen if certain elements were in play or others and some basic unsaid rules were not followed. Now, please enjoy, “The CONvention: A Diaper Dimension Story.”
  18. My Mommy (wife) has her BFF Stephanie bathe me and change my wet diapers. Mommy and Aunt Stephanie have changed my diapers in the presence of their adult lady friends. They have all been caring and very supportive so I don't feel ashamed.
  19. He almost fell to the ground but was pushed close against the wall. Her body penning him. He could feel her skin warming from the fresh blood that filled her veins. She whispered into his ears. "Oh baby, you just did it for me. Can't believe they'd bring a helpless child to a fight. Guess I'll have to take care of you. Better get you washed. I got so much blood on you. And you pissed yourself too." She shook her head and clicked her tongue. yet firm English accent. No. Something closer to Irish. The man shivered as he felt her warm body up against his bareback. Her wavy red hair hung in his face as she places her arms around his chest and her chin on his head. Her perky breast was on his neck. His heart was racing. Pounding like a relentless debt collector. Like he was in the paw of a lioness toying with her prey. "Are you cold darling? You've been shivering ever since I brought you inside. You should be all warm after our bath. It was a little messy out there, and all that rain. At least most of it will be washed away. It's pouring heavy tonight." The man felt her weight on him. He was boxed in from all sides by the soft and pale creature. Her questions were farcical in nature. Asked if he was cold knowing full well that wasn't the reason he was shaking. What she did outside to his partners. Why he was pissing the thing she strapped to him. "Still you're silent." She said softly as she pulls off him and rubs her hands on his back. "Bruises and scars. How could someone be so ruff with a fragile thing?" She kisses his bruises from the other day's hunt. "No more boo-boos for now on. I'll keep you out of harm's way." Part of him was furious as he was afraid. He'd watch her take down two of his fellow hunters. Their blood spilled from their necks before they could fire a bullet or stake her in the heart. Two far more experience than a rookie with a year of hunting under his belt. She laughed as she killed them and proceeded to attack him next. Grabbing him by his neck and squeezing it with her delicate pale hand with strength far unexpected for a woman, let alone most men. Her speed left him little time to react and his grip left little air to breathe as he was slammed against the wall. She only relented with she heard him beg and the tears falling down his cheeks. To add to his embarrassment, he soiled his pants in the fear he couldn't suppress. This wasn't some basic creature, no foolish goblin or brain rotted zombie. She smelt the scent of urine and her eyes widened and her grip released. He almost fell to the ground but was pushed close against the wall. Her body penning him. He could feel her skin warming from the fresh blood that filled her veins. She whispered into his ears. "Oh baby, you just did it for me. Can't believe they'd bring a helpless child to a fight. Guess I'll have to take care of you. Better get you washed. I got so much blood on you. And you pissed yourself too." She shook her head and clicked her tounge. She pulled and pushed him into her domain. She slapped his ass every time he tried to resist.She escorted him to the bathroom and made him watch as she prepared him a bath and undressed him herself. She then did the same for herself, tossing her blood-soaked clothes to the floor. They bathed together, the fighting he did had long ceased as she smacked and pinch his butt into submission. He felt like some child, which was what was intended. She teased him and mocked him with baby words. He remembered her saying this. "You can't even wash your crack right. Such a mess. No wonder you wet your knickers and pants. Boys like you need something more practical. Nappies." He didn't understand what that meant at the time. He glanced back at her when he had the courage. Emerald green eyes, rich red hair, and dark lipstick against her pale white skin. Her beauty was similar to that of a statue made from marble. Her eyes were another story. Stunning emeralds drew him in. All she did was smile back. Still, he knew this was just a monster in the form of a gorgeous woman. She continued to clean him until she was satisfied. She then began on herself. The water grew murky with red blood. The blood of the men he'd considered allies in this war of the unnatural. They stepped out of the bath and she dried him off with a towel and then herself. Once the creature finished cleaning herself off and attempt to tickle her captive to laugh a little...it worked. They finished and she escorted him to her room. He thought it was over for him but he found this torture and embarrassment would continue. She stepped ahead of him yet held his hand firmly. She opened the white-painted door and kept her eyes locked with his. "You are going to love this." She pulled him inside and what he saw made him want to scratch his head. There was not a single window in the room. It was large and white. Where the wall and ceiling met there was some sort of tapestry along each wall. Safari print with the letter of the alphabet correlating with an animal. The room had a white crib with a mobile above and a changing table next to it with multiple stacks of diapers and other changing supplies. A blue toy chest off to the side. The carpet was clean and soft and the air was sweet like baby powder. Opposite of the baby stuff was a king-size bed with blue sheets and pillows. Complete with nightstands and an old lamp. One thing about the baby stuff that bothered him was its size. So big. Even the diapers. He could easily fit in the diapers and cribs. That's when the hunter's eyes grew larger and the emerald-eyed creature laughed and pulled her prey deeper inside. He wasn't going to be killed like the others, she had other plans. She took the naked man to the changing table. "Upon the table love. Mommy wants to get this over with." She waited for him to move. "Now!" She raised her voice. The hunter heard the creature raise her voice as she remained in eye contact. He started to move, part of him felt as if he was in a trance. Was it fear, some spell of magic, hypnotism, or just him not being an idiot? Whatever it was, he was laying on the soft padding of the table and having his butt tickled. "Good boy. Might as well just lay down and let me help you. Pissing yourself out there just shows you aren't nearly ready to do big boy things like killing what goes bump in the night." She was then applying lotion on his bottom and humming a tune. Mary had a little lamb. "Help me out and keep those legs up. Gonna have to shave those tomorrow. A little too hairy, but not too much muscle either, just a boy." She said picking at the hunter's confidence. "It'll be gone eventually. The muscle. I'll fatten you up just a little. And those muscles will eventually fade away." He watch as she reached under the table and grabbed something. She kept eye contact and her wicked smile. She pulled up a bottle of baby powder and went back down for something else. "Like wearing clouds darling. So soft and comfy." She pulled out a giant diaper with the designs of jungle animals covering its white background. "Nappies are so cute." The hunter couldn't look away from her. Even as she focused on the diaper. Her eyes then glance back and him as she started powdering his butt and proceeded to unfold the embarrassing thing with her hands. Her smile grew wider. She saw the pain on his face and reveled in it. "Don't make that face. My babies wear nappies because they need nappies. You pissed yourself. I had to bath you myself and you had crumbs in your crack. You can't even wipe correctly." She slides the unfolded diaper under his waiting bottom. "Bring those legs down." The hunter wanted to die. His eyes started to get teary but he didn't let a single tear fall down. She fixed the positioning of the diaper with her pale hands and then slide her hand down his legs. Leaving trails of powder on them. "Before I tape this well-earned nappy on your little butt, I want you to say it for me." He looked at her in confusion. "Say what?" Her green eyes lit up. "Are you my little baby boy?" Her dark lips smiled from ear to ear. "My helpless little boy." He hesitated. She wanted him to debase himself a tad bit more. She smacked the side of his leg. It stung him. "Tell me! You are my little baby boy! Tell Mommy what she wants to hear." He never thought a creature would be telling him this. "I'm your baby boy." He said flatly. He felt another smack on his ass now. "Why?" "Mean it. More pride in it. Louder. You are Mommy's helpless baby boy. Say it." She wanted to hear it again. It made her tingle. She was putting the fresh blood to work. This made her feel truly alive again. "I'm your helpless baby boy, Mommy." He said louder and prouder. Well not actually prouder. The opposite actually. He felt another smack. "I"m your little helpless baby boy. I need you, Mommy." "You're not a man. Not some hunter. Just a baby. A baby in need of his nappy. Tell me, baby. Ask me to put it on you. Make it sound good too. Or else." She flashed her fangs and her green eyes squinted with authority. He did so quickly. "Mommy. Please put my diaper on. Please, I need it." She looked at him and he knew it wasn't enough. "I'm just a baby. I need a nappy. I can't hold it, Mommy. I'm..." Damnit. A tear was rolling down his cheek. "I'm not a man. I'm a baby. A baby. Mommy please, put a nappy on me before I have an accident." "Of course cutie. No need to beg." She quickly began tapping the diaper on and had it tightly wrapped around his waist. "Precious little boy. Feels like a cloud doesn't it?" The diaper felt comfortable. The thickness of it made him feel like he was wearing a pillow. Soft and comfy like the creature said. He didn't respond to her. He didn't want to satisfy this bastard again. She'd probably enjoy hearing him confirm what she said before. This woman was into a sweet form of domination. A maternal one. Where she's needed and is in control. She helped the hunter off the table and had him standing in a juvenile diaper as she caressed it with her hands. "You won't be using the bathroom again, except for baths and brushing your teeth. For now on, when you gotta go potty..." She squeezed the diaper and placed a hand upon his shoulder. "You'll go in here." She tapped on the safari diaper with her finger. "Your nappy." She said soft and sensually. She then had him sit on the floor and she walked over to the toy chest that was in the corner. The pale naked creature bent over and unlocked the chest. Soon she was tossing toys his way. Toys from now to a 100 years ago. The older ones were in amazing condition. She turned around and gave him an order. "Play." The hunter did as he was told, but he wasn't in the slightest enjoying it. It was mostly baby toys and dolls made from fabric and stuff with cotton. Wooden block and some modern toys that made noises and flashed colors. His captor watched and smiled. She eventually went to the closet and began to dress herself. She now wore red leggings and a tan bra. Nothing else, she didn't need to cover up much around her baby. She then was hovering over the man and the curious thought of how he tasted entered her mind. She was then pricking him with her fangs and the hunter was pissing himself in fear leading to the start of this story. This was how this hunter found himself dress like some baby. "Now your all wet. Tell me, does having a wet nappy feel nice? It's still warm, baby." She moved her fingers up and down the wet portion of the diaper. "Being Lady Seymour's child is a pleasure. I'm very sweet to my babies. Even the unhappy ones change their minds after a while." She whispered softly in his ear and a kiss on his cheek. The hunter couldn't deny it. She was enchanting. He turned his head to look her in the eyes, those rich green emeralds that he couldn't look away from. Those grinning black lips and beautiful face. Her silky soft words were seductive. She made being her pet sound right. Her baby. The hunter needed to remember. To resist the mesmerism she had slowly placed him under. He felt a hand caress his face and a kiss on his cheek. "Now I'll go fetch you a bottle. Be good." She stood up and exited the room. The hunter wanted to stand up and search the room. But she told him to play. To be good. He didn't want to upset her. He knew he wasn't supposed to be standing up or searching for something to kill her. The hunter starts to look around. The lack of windows was smart. She must be in this room a lot. Not like the bed was an obvious clue. He expected a coffin. One hunter told a story of how they caught his cousin Elvis, yup that Elvis, in his coffin, and ended the fat Hawaiian virgin blood-drinking bastard. NOW THAT'S WHAT A HUNTER DOES. Fighting the mesmerism. He reminded himself what he was. Not some pet or baby for some pervert of a creature with some age play fetish. He had studied for this. He'll bide his time and wait for the chance to stake her overconfident ass in her dark evil heart. One of the rattles. Keep one of them hidden and sharp. Not as effective as blessed wood but enough force can do the trick. At the very least she'd kill him. The creature returned 15 minutes later with a baby bottle in hand. Far larger and more juvenile images on it. "A warm bottle to calm your nerves." She crouched down and offered the Hunter his drink. He grabbed it and examined it. Warm white milk from what he could tell. He then saw pale fingers snapping in his face. "Don't look at it like that. I wouldn't give you anything that would cause you harm. Drink up. You need it. Don't be so nervous." She ordered with her stern motherly tone. Trying to avoid eye contact with the creature forcing him to play baby; he lifted the bottle's nipple into his mouth with both hands and suckled. His new Mommy grinned with delight and moved in closer. She planted a wet kiss on his cheek and sucked her teeth. "You are so cute sucking on that bottle. Who'd let you ever be a Hunter? You are much more suited for nappies and acting as you really are, a baby." She said teasing her new baby/pet. She began to play with your hair. "We are going to have so much fun together." She pulled on the Hunter hair and made him look at her. He refused, as it would as looking into Medusa's evil gaze. Luckily it wasn't as lethal, but becoming her thrall might be worse. He felt the urge to obey. The image of her pale marble beauty, deep red hair, and emerald eyes. It made the blood rush into the spot. The creature was annoyed. He wouldn't meet her eyes. She grabbed his chin as he drank the bottle. He was going strong. At least he was drinking it. "Is there something wrong. Look me in the eyes and tell Mommy." She jerked his head directly facing hers and got as close as she needed. The Hunter tried not to look at her. Yet he couldn't resist and choose to simply close them shut. Nice and tight. He felt the grip on his chin grow tighter. "You little brat. Am I not worthy of your gaze anymore? Let alone your words. Such ungratefulness is not going to be tolerated. Spanking for you!" She exclaimed as she stood up. "Wait." The Hunter said removing the rubble nipple from his mouth. "I just have something in my eye?" He came up with a quick and lousy excuse." She shook her head with an incredulous look on her face. She removed her wavy red hair from her face. She noticed her baby still wasn't looking her in the eyes. She could tell. She had learned to notice a lifetime ago. She was hiding it. His little resistance was turning her on. It felt better when she had fresh blood running in her veins. It filled her with life, and made her really want to do something 'fun' for her. "You're going to lie to me? You're only going to speak when you're going to get some discipline?" "No. It's not like that." It totally was like that. "It just. You're intimidating. And pretty. I just feel awkward looking like this." His little compliment made her heart flutter. Still, he was going to get it, and no amount of honey could change it. She did love the compliments. "Awkward? Intimidating?" She asked. She shook her head in disapproval and clicked her teeth. "Me having to put you back in baby pants? I'm not the one who can't hold it. Or beg for mercy." She reminded him. "Get over to that bed. I think we should lay down the ground rules." She said pointing towards it. He looked at her and then the bed. Her face may have looked displeased but he could see the delight in her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that Mommy. I've just never met a woman like you." "You're still talking and not crawling?" He lowered his head and crawled over to the bed across the room. His Mommy looks on at his diaper butt and grins. "That looks right for some discipline." She walked over to the bed after he had climbed onto it. She had reached into her nightstands shelf and pulled out a paddle. Made of wood and image of bats going down the flat paddle. She sat down next to him and place an arm around his shoulder like she would a pal. With swiftness, she had thrown the grown adult over her lap. She tapped his padded butt with the paddles and stroked his head. "Say you deserve this spanking." The Hunter, if he is worthy of such a title, looked peeved. The amount of humiliation this bitch had put him through. He had to kill her. He needed to. He then felt a hand under his chin and an iron grip squeezing his cheeks. "Cat got your tounge darling? Say it, or I got worse in store for you." Her stern motherly look had made him smaller inside. "I deserve a spanking." He did as she ordered and told her the words that made her tingle with delight. "That wasn't good enough. I didn't hear my name. You said it earlier when you were all scared." She said with a grin and a spank. "I'll pull down this nappy and leave you purple. Now say it again...correctly!" She raised her voice as she hit his padded butt again. "Mommy, I deserve a spanking. I need a spanking, Mommy." The pale creature cooed and stroke the young man's head. Her baby's head. "Please spank me, Mommy Seymour." She leaned into his ear and whispered to him. "Brats like you need to be put in your place. And in your nappies too." That was when the creature started to dole out her punishment. The sound of the wooden paddle smacks and striking wet padding. It stung his ass like splash into a pull from high up the wrong way. A sharp pain spread across his butt as he kicked and bucked in her lap. Her supernatural strength kept him from escaping and his actions only delighted her more and cause him more pain. "A brat. First, you beg me for your punishment and then you act like this. What am I going to do with you?" The pale creature asked rhetorically. She then moved the brat around in her lap to place on leg over his legs. She grabbed his hair and continued her spanking. "Try to struggle now. Can't? Mommy's too strong for the silly baby isn't she?" The paddling was continuing. He wanted it to cease. The entire dilemma he was stuck in. As she punished him he could only imagine piercing her heart with a sharp rattle through the mounds of fat on her chest. It continued for about another 50 or more spanks until she suddenly stopped. The baby had shed a few tears in that time and pleads for mercy. She was wiping them away with her thumbs. "I'm done. I think you had enough. Just remember. Mommy will do it again when you try to be a bad baby." Her condescending tone was had made worse of how her hands were now patting the diaper. "You know what will make your cry baby \butt cute as hell. A dummy." She released him from her clenched legs snd tugged him farther into the bed. She then reached into her nightstand and pulled out another cute little item. It was a pacifier. It was purple and the shield was shaped like a bat's wing. It was cringy. The irony was a thing the creature found amusing. It even had a yellow string to make it a necklace. The hunter sat in a wet diaper on the bed as she removed the cap off it and brought it up to the Hunter's lips. "When you don't want to speak. You're gonna be sucking and chewing on this." She said sternly. The Hunter tried not to look her in her hypnotic emerald eyes. She grabbed by his chin and forced him to look at her. She was then on top of him and pinned him to the bed with her hand and weight. She didn't blink and only starred at him. Her stoic face started to grin. He'd had peed himself again. Some during the spanking and more just now. "Mesmerism is such an effective power. Just because you know you are under my little spell doesn't change anything. Now suck on this Dummy. Then I'm going to get that nasty butt of yours cleaned up." The Hunter started to open his mouth as she slowly and surely slid the dummy into his mouth. He did have lucidity. He wouldn't become her thrall. What she calls her baby. "Why am I your baby?" He asked as his mouth closed down on rubber. She smiled with excitement when he asked that. "Why? I told you." She enjoyed playing with him. She then saw the look in his eyes. He wanted to know. Why this. Why did she do this? She left her finger in the pacifier's ring. "Suck it. And I'll give you a better answer." The hunter did so with her pale finger there. Back and forth his suckled on the rubber nipple. She smirked and shook her head with approval. "Come to your changing table. I'll explain. I promise." She removed her finger and moved towards the table. The Hunter followed behind...on his hands and knees. The creature lift the big baby up and gently laid him on the table. She placed her pale fingers on the tapes of the diaper. "You soaked it quicker than expected. Just a natural baby huh? You'll be messing too. This little kink of mine goes all the way." The Hunter's heart dropped. "Shwit muself?" "Don't use that word. Don't make me spank you again." She threatens again nonchalantly. She began to remove the tapes. They crinkled and ripped as one tap after another was removed. "Nappies are just so perfect for domination." The nature of her kind. Domination. It was what they loved. They only bow when forced most of the time and love to bend others to their will. The pale creature was simply getting off to this. BDSM is considered normal for bloodsuckers. This however was out of the norm. She pulled down the diaper and was reach below for the supplies. She grabbed powder and along with it ointment. The Hunter had looked up at her when she first put him on the table. The Emeralds had caught him again. Her enchanting wicked smile and beautiful pale features. For a moment, maybe staying with her wasn't so bad. She grabbed the cool wipes and started cleaning him. Similar to how she washed him. She hummed a tone that soothed the both of them. As stern as she could be. This creature was gentle like dotting Mother. "Treating someone like this. As my baby, it just hits on the right buttons. Age play you'd call it. But it's better when you force it down someone's throat like a stream of warm milk." She giggled. "What better fate than that? Others are into much darker things. I just want to care for you. Make you love me." She clean his front and then slid it down and up his butt. She enjoyed humiliation too. All of it. What continued to excite her was when he would start to like it. Giggle and appreciate it. Now that would be the most gratifying. The creature then lifted his legs and pulled the wet diaper out from under him. She quickly rolled it up and tossed it in a nearby diaper pail. The creature reached down below the Hunter's view and came up with more diapers. Two this time. One with Baby written on it in blocks and another one with blue space theme diaper. "Pick which one you want Love." It didn't matter. He'd be wearing diapers no matter what. "The blew won." He said through his pacifier. It was better than to baby one but not by much. "Cute choice." She thought of putting him in the white one. Then again, the blue one wasn't a step up. "It's a good nappy. Very adorable. Space aliens and adorable planets. Just imaging your big nappy butt is turning me on even more." The Hunter watched the pale woman unfold the thick blue diaper and slide it under his butt. The smirk is ever-present. Her green eyes kept her pacifier sucking victim entranced. Something about her made him want her to please her. Why would he want to please her? To gain her trust? He wasn't sure. She grabbed the ointment and spread it over his bum. She hummed her tune as she babied him into her arms. Domination isn't always barbed. It can be gentle and sweeter than sugar. Perfect for keeping babies as babies. After applying the rash ointment she did a layover of lotion on his nether areas. She even took time to tickle his bottom. "Now time to powder you up and get that nappy on. Pissy pants." She grabbed the powder and covered him in it and rubbed the lavender-scented powder in. "So adorable. So helpless. Precious." Soon The Hunter found the diaper being tapped on nice and tight. She pulled the tapes on his crotch firmly on each side. She patted his diaper and squeezed it. "Squishy little sponge. Nappies are so your thing." she teased again. The Hunter felt the softness on the clean dry diaper around him. Part of him knew he didn't need it. Yet another made him feel safe. It was only made better by the presence of the creature...woman who changed him. "Come on baby. Come close and wrap those legs around Mommy. I'm strong enough to carry you. I can bounce you in my lap later if you want. I will actually." She told him in the sweetest tone. The Hunter panicked. He wanted that. He wanted that. It made him excited down there. To be in her lap. He could just imagine how sick and weird it was. Fuck! He moved closer to her felt her arms come behind his butt and lifted him up. The Hunter wrapped his legs around the woman like a baby as she took him back to the bed and sat him down. She just stood over him looking sultry and smug. Her curly red hair on her face. "Even though you've been a brat. I think you deserve a treat. Two of them." She snickered. The undead creature had started to rub her busty breast and bounced them while they were still in her bra. "You hungry? Two fat tits all for you brat." She said in her teasing tone. She was even more confident now. "I'm still warm. But for how long? Better-" She unhooked her massive pale breast and let them hang. They looked soft and sweet. "-suck me up now. They're still full of freshness." The creature crawled onto the bed and tossed her bra on the floor. "What a little baby. You were all big and tough only a few hours ago? Stalking me through the night. Now, look where that got you. Not a bad situation, is it?" He was gently sucking on the woman's breast. He didn't think about the action and simply did it instinctually. The warm and honey-sweet milk traveled down his throat. He didn't even think of those whose blood warmed this woman. He looked up at her and into the emerald eyes. He felt a hand on his diapered butt and the smug yet gentle smile on the pale woman's lips. "That's right." He was gently sucking on the woman's breast. He didn't think about the action and simply did it instinctually. The warm and honey-sweet milk traveled down his throat. He didn't even think of those whose blood warmed this woman. He looked up at her and into the emerald eyes. He felt a hand on his diapered butt and the smug yet gentle smile on the pale woman's lips. "That's right." The hunter continued to drink her nectar. "Drink more. Faster. You're hungry." Her hand caress and spanked his diaper rear. "Drink it up." She stroked his head and bit her lip. She closed her eyes and exhales a moan. "Faster!" She moaned through clenched teeth. The suckling and pulling off her nipple. The noise of him slurping her up. She chuckled at the irony. It all egged her on. The diapers. The humiliation. The entire situation. His resistance to her will. It was all that she enjoyed. HER fantasy for more than a century. The hunter felt little in her grasp. So small and unable to stand up against her. As milk traveled down his throat as he heard her tell him to speed up. The smacking of his bum and being rocked in her laps. He drank as much and as fast as he could. He heard her moan and he knew he was pleasing her. Mommy. He did remember his plan. He wanted to attempt it. He didn't want to be some kink slave and become her thrall for the foreseeable future. Yet, he didn't want to leave her. To not see that beautiful smile and enchanting eyes, neither giving up the warm nectar from her amazing bosom. He wanted to be a baby. Her baby. That thought made him curl up in fear. He was really hers. Another side of him was happy about it. The rich milk made him feel drowsy. Elated and lightless. He felt such good things from her breast milk. All the troubles in life were numbed. He eventually switched tits as she feed him. It continued from the other. "This milk will keep you nice and full. And youthful. Not immortality, but better than growing old and decrepit. And most of all, you'll be addicted. Withdraws are a B I T C H." She said sounding quite satisfied. "Momma's baby boy." She leaned in closer. "Forever." The hunter shed some tears as he dug closer into the creature's bosom. He felt the comfort of her presence. The pat on his bum. Even in all this trouble, there was a comfort. Eventually, the stream came to an end. He belched as she shoved the pacifier back into his mouth. He began to feel the stress of the night melt away. He felt the effects of the milk still. He was feeling like a baby. He felt his Mommy pull him close and a pinch on his neck. It only lasted a few seconds. It didn't hurt. Whatever it was. Blood dripped down her lip and onto her chest. Just a drop. "I just needed a taste little one. You feed on me anyway, I think it was a fair exchange. She then licked the wound of the blood and kissed it. In a matter of seconds, it started to close into just marks. "Kisses make everything better." With a little fresh blood in her. The creature left the bed and scooped the hunter up. She felt his legs wrap around her and carried him to the crib on the other side of the room. "Time for bed. You got an adorable crib to sleep in." The hunter was laid in his crib like an unhatched egg. "Baby." She said gaining his attention. With a beautiful smile, she removed his pacifier pointed at the side of her cheek. "Give me a kiss. A little thank you for cleaning you up and setting you right." The regressed Hunter smiled and gave his new Mommy a big kiss on her cheek. She smiled widely and tittered at it. She took this chance to plant a kiss on the forehead. She laid him down and grabbed his blankets. She covered her new baby with the covers and tucked him in. She placed the pacifier back into her baby's mouth and loomed over him. She watched her newly enthralled baby fall asleep. She had a cute boy to play with. So much more fun they would have. There was more that needed to be broken and new habits ingrained into him. Such as learning to do all his messes in a diaper. She was feeling hungry again. She had dragged the two she feed on before into the living room and set them by the fire. To warm the lifeless fools up for her to feed. Hunters were always easy prey and the cutest toys.
  20. Hey everyone! So this is my first story. I am actually a barely popular ABDL artist and I post most of my art content here: Hottogurugan (Comms Open) (@hottogurugan) / Twitter I usually do normal ABDL art, and I've only recently gotten anywhere close to good, and I rarely post new stuff but I'm working on getting more output. I am also collabing on an abdl game with another artist. But that's not why I'm here. Though I mainly draw diaper girls, I have a huge soft spot for Md/Lb and femdom dynamics involving diapers. Women putting boys in their pampered place etc. etc. I just have never had an idea that struck me as something I wanted to draw. So as a fun experiment, and after brainstorming with some fellow ABDL/MDLB writers on tumblr, I decided to write down a story idea that has been sifting around in my head for at least two years or so. The idea is not entirely original. There is a CYOA on Writing.com called 'The Colony'. The premise was that a Communist Matriarchy had been established on some space station. The women ruled the station and kept all men in diapers. No man was allowed to be potty trained and all had to obey female authority. One of the story avenues let you be a young man who was headed off to college in this strange matriarchal society. Needless to say, I fell in love with the premise, and I even tried to contribute to it myself. However, I did not like how the collaborative CYOA provided zero narrative control to any individual author. I was fascinated with exploring the idea of this society, and following a young man as he broke out from his parents only to eventually find himself ensnared in the matriarchy's web and succumbing to the authority of a new 'mommy'. Some of the writing was of....... subpar quality. Some of the story routes had entries that seemed like purposeful derailments by trolls, one literally ends with an entry that simply reads, "??????????". Can't exactly go from there without disrupting the flow. The story is sporadically updated, but individual authors never seem to contribute more than once. I have tried to get in touch with the original author, but after two attempts at contact, and four years of no reply, I assume he has abandoned his account and the story itself. As such, I have decided that I would take the premise and write my own story based on it. In order to avoid plagiarism, I am completely changing the names of characters, places, and even making some of the few plot points presented in the original CYOA differently. I am only taking the premise, and my own rendition of the first part of one of the story avenues presented originally, beyond that, this is my own work. I simply wanted a creative avenue that was under my control in which I could explore the world set by such a premise, the people who live in it, and the ideology of the ruling matriarchy. I hope you all can enjoy my take on this premise, and I hope you all come along and follow me for what may be the first of possibly many stories. Disclaimer: The author of this work does not follow or endorse any of the ideologies described in this work of fiction. All mentions or opinions expressed in this work do not reflect the authors own opinions. The opinions of characters in the work do not reflect the author's, and only serve as vehicles to further the plot or help in characterization of the characters involved. This is erotic fiction first and foremost, none of the ideas represented are meant to be taken seriously or advocated for in the real world. Our story follows Raymond, a young man who finds himself attending university in a strange society where matriarchy is the ruling ideology. In this society, men are kept as partially infantilized adults with the legal rights of toddlers as they are cared for and commanded by an all-female elite. Raymond must navigate his way through this strange culture until he completes his pilots' certification, and he is determined to escape the society with his dignity and continence intact before the female web of the matriarchy fully ensnares him? Things become even more complicated when he meets the love of his life in this strange place. Will our hero escape or be made into a loyal pamper-packer at the behest of female authority? A Radical Equality Chapter 1: Arrival “I am not wearing that!” “You have no choice, it’s the law.” In the room stood three figures. Two women and one man. The man, an average student in his mid-20s, sat on a medical table in a brightly lit backroom resembling an examination room. A traveling case and a backpack lay at his feet. With his arms crossed, he glared defiantly at the two women who stood just barely above him. The two women were of different professions, both at least a decade older than the man. One was dressed as an office professional, her blouse had an emblem stitched to her left breast, with the word “IMMIGRATION AND CUSTOMS” embroidered just above. On the right breast, an ID card hung from a clip in her breast pocket. The other woman was a law officer, her faded navy-blue uniform barely disguised the silhouette of a Kevlar vest. The tools of her trade were clasped onto her duty belt. Her left boot tap-tapping in an annoyed cadence. Even those both women were physically smaller and less intimidating than the man, they stood as if they were the authorities. They gave off the impression of two stern schoolteachers trying to subdue an unruly toddler. In their minds, that was exactly what they were doing. “Listen, you can either be mature and wear the diaper or we can arrest you and have you deported.” Said the immigration woman. “Oh, and if you do decide on arrest, you’ll still get diapered. Prisoners don’t have potty privileges.” “But that’s ridiculous! I was never told I’d need to wear…. one of those.” The man replied. “The diapers? You said you were here on a student visa, right? Did you not read the rules required of males living on this planet?” In truth, the man had read the rule sheet, but he thought it was a joke. He also didn't even bother to do much research on where he was headed, otherwise, he would have known of the strange rules he would be subjected to, and the puffy garments that would replace his normal boxers. “I…. I read the rules.” He said, “I just thought it was a joke? Like, you can’t seriously require all men to wear those things, right?” “Diapers, and we do. It's one of the foundational pillars that our society rests on, and I am simply asking you to respect it, young sir." “Stop talking to me like I’m a kid!” “Stop acting like one then!” “I’m 21…” "That doesn't mean anything. Here, you're legally a child still. And with that attitude, you might as well be one!” The room fell to silence for a moment. She was right. He knew she was. He felt childish, being told by two authoritative women that he needed to put on a diaper. His cheeks were flushed red from the emotions he was feeling. Anger and embarrassment. Angry that he was so stupid to not take the pamphlet seriously and embarrassed at having to go through the ordeal. He found himself in this situation because he had no other choice. No other university accepted his application. He was intelligent, but a terrible student, and as such his grades were lackluster. He originally tried to make it as a dockworker on Earth's Intergalactic Trade Station, but after two years of that, he decided it wasn't the type of career he wanted. But being exposed to the spacecraft he unloaded cargo from, he got the idea that maybe being a space pilot might be a fun job to take. So, he decided to try his hand at one of the many credentialing institutions in Human space. The issue was, that only a select handful of institutions offered classes. Spacecraft piloting was necessary and high-in-demand profession, but companies were always particular about who could become a pilot, and a certification in a specific space quadrant meant where you got certified is where you would work. But none of the larger and well-known institutions would take him in on account of his lazy performance in high school. Until one day when he received a strange email from a university, he had never heard about. He didn’t remember much of the email, nor did he even try to pay much attention when he was reading it. All he remembered was something about “communist matriarchy”, “a particular way of life, and "revolutionary culture'. But he mostly paid attention to the "reduced board and tuition for off-planet male students" and the “Spacecraft license classes offered”. That’s what got him here, a college degree and at a cheaper cost somewhere away from his parents? He couldn’t pass it up. If only he had known, he might have held out for somewhere else before submitting his application. “I am going to ask you one more time.” Chimed in the office lady, breaking the silence. “Will you submit to a diapering, or will you continue to be fussy and require us to send you home?” The woman crossed her arms and looked at him with a stern expression, awaiting an answer. The policewoman’s tap-tapping increased in rhythm. The young man paused for a second, he wanted to say ‘just send me home! I’m going back to Earth.’ But his subconscious stopped him, he knew deep down that if he went back, he might not get another chance to get a certificate and license. Maybe, just maybe, he could cram courses as much as he could and get out as soon as possible. Maybe wearing diapers for a year or two wouldn't be so bad, was it? He didn't necessarily have to use said diapers, and this station was built from a prefab, so there had to be a men's room somewhere hidden away he could use. This was his chance, he had to take it. He took a deep breath and let his arms fall to his side. “Alright, I’ll wear the diaper.” He said, “I guess when in Rome.” The office woman’s expression changed from stern disapproval to a pleased smile. She walked over to a cabinet and pulled out some items before returning to the medical bench. “I’m glad to hear that you’re big enough to take the easy way, I was worried Miss Roland here was going to have to cuff you.” “I would prefer not to, makes my job easier when they behave.” Said the policewoman. "Oh, I bet it does. Alright, young man lay down on the bench and I'll get you changed." “Whoa, hold on. I can change myself just fine!” The stern and disappointed expression returned to the woman’s face. "I'm sorry, but in addition to having to wear diapers, you are also not allowed to change them yourself. Lay down on the medical bench and I’ll get you into your diaper.” “No way lady! That’s weird! I can put it on myself.” “Officer Roland please restrain him.” The man found himself being pushed down by the officer with more force than she had been able to use. She must be on enhancers. "What the- “he retorted as he fell back on the bench. Cop lady quickly restrained his left hand with a medical cuff, and the office woman quickly went around the other side and cuffed his right. They were quick from lots of practice with this exact scenario. With only his legs free, the young man began to squirm and lightly kick them about. “Hey, get me out of this! You can’t- “ “If you don’t stop moving your legs, we will have to restrain those too. Calm down and just let me change you!” “No! Let me out you bitch!” he cried back. “Suit yourself.” Immediately the women set about restraining his legs. The police officer had no issues restraining his leg, but the immigration lady needed help. But after a short struggle, his legs were restrained as well. He was about to let out another expletive but was interrupted by a soft, rubbery object being forcefully inserted into his mouth. “Spit that out and I’ll have to tie that around your head.” He wanted to spit it out but decided against further restraint. It was also somewhat soothing to have in. What was it exactly? The office woman began to make her way back to the cabinet while Officer Roland stared over the young man like a hawk. The Office lady returns with a pair of razor-scissors. “I’m sorry but since we had to restrain your legs, the only way to get your pants off for a diaper change is by cutting them up.” She then gave a quick snip-snip with the scissors. The young man didn’t want his pants cut up, but this was the fate he chose. He squirmed up until the point of the woman removing his belt and readying the scissors. He knew better than to be unsteady around those things. It took several cuts to get both sides of his pants undone. No longer held together with thread, the woman slid the pants out from underneath him, leaving him mostly exposed except for his underwear. The woman held up the scissors with a disgusted face after seeing his gray boxers. As if she were offended by being subjected to seeing them. She positioned the scissors to begin cutting the undergarment. “Now hold still, otherwise there will be a bad accident.” Saying that, she began to cut the boxers, both ends now lie open. She removes the underwear from underneath the young man, whose face goes beet red. Holding the underwear out, somewhat in disgust and curiosity. “Why do you off-world boys even wear these? They don’t offer any protection and they don’t look comfortable. If I left my boys in these, they’d make a mess all over my carpet.” She tosses the cut-up garment into a trash bin. “You won’t need those anymore mister.” She turns around to face her charge, with a wide grin on her face. “Are you ready for your first diaper mister grumpypants?” The tone of her voice and mood noticeably changed, as if a switch had been flipped in her hand. Or maybe to try and signal to him that he is now in her good graces. She wanted him in those diapers, not his big boy undies. She pulled out a bottle with lotion inside and squirted it onto her hands before rubbing them together. She went for his crotch, and he began to squirm in reaction to this strange lady rubbing his groin. “Stop squirming little guy, it’ll go faster if you stay still.” The woman was surprisingly professional about rubbing lotion on all of a man’s junk. The young man on the other hand was flustered as one could be. This was the first time a woman had ever given him the attention of this sort, and it was while he was restrained and trying to put him in a diaper. By the end of the lotion rubbing, he was a blushing, embarrassed mess and could barely come up with a thought. The woman retracted her hands and turned around to grab something else. Turning back to face the man she holds up a thick white object, which the man immediately recognized to be an unfolded diaper. The woman’s smile beamed at him, it was a happy smile, but he still found himself intimidated. “Time for your first diapering little boy!” Beamed the woman before unfolding the diaper. The unfolded diaper surprised the boy in just how large it was, it had to be as long as the woman’s torso, and it couldn’t have been less than half a foot wide in the middle. She slid the enormous underwear beneath him and adjusted its position under him. She pulled the front of the diaper over his crotch. “Shh, such a good boy for keeping still. I’m proud of you.” The woman cooed at him as if he were a toddler while she pulled the diaper's wings over the front. The tapes made a distinctive sound as they were secured onto the landing strip. The woman pulled back after the diaper was fastened onto the man. “All done! Good job for calming down, I bet you feel much happier now that you’re properly padded up, huh?” Cooed the woman, the cop on the other side of the bench gave a quick chuckle at the sight. The young man just sat in silence, too flustered from the events to react to anything. To him, the diaper felt bulky and soft, if tightly secured. It was surprisingly comfortable for what it was, felt almost like a pillow between his thighs. Both women began undoing his restraints, once his arms and legs were free the office woman helped him sit up on the bench and the police lady sat next to him. "Now I know you must be flustered by what occurred and feel like you've been punished enough. But your behavior from earlier is simply unacceptable. Around here you are to respect and obey female authorities, your little outburst is simply something you'll need to learn to control. I understand this is your first time on our planet, but you simply must learn to follow our rules if you wish to stay here. As such, to help you learn, Officer Roland here will administer a light spanking to you.” Her words were practiced and professional, she does this routinely. The young man was taken aback by her threat of a spanking. But before he could reply Officer Roland grabbed his hands and forced him over her lap. His thickly padded behind was now exposed prominently to the air. He popped the pacifier out of his mouth and yelled. “Let go of me!” He now couldn’t see the woman who had been administering his defeat for the past hour, but he could hear her tone change in her voice. “Sigh You just don’t learn to stay quiet, do you? Officer, how many spankings do you think are in order?" “I’d say at least 20 ma’am.” “Make it 30.” The young man began squirming and yelling in protest. 'This is an injustice!' he thought to himself. And he continued to writhe about. He felt another pacifier being inserted into his mouth and a strap tightening around his head. He could no longer vocalize his distaste for the actions being done to him. He feels a hand grab his chin and rotate his head. The office woman rotated his head, so their eyes meet. “Welcome to Estrea little boy.”
  21. Welcome! This is a story about being dead, fun, right?! The plan is for there to be an overarching main story, set up here in the prologue, but each chapter will be focused on an individual that comes to our protagonist through her job while I drip feed the main story throughout. The hope is that this will be a story that, eventually, makes you feel good despite literally everyone in it being dead. #ghostsarepeopletoo Anyway, if you like what you see here and want more let me know in the comments and like the story, if you don't, let me know in the comments and don't like the story, if you're just here for reading and not interacting, that's cool, I hope you enjoy my work regardless. On with the show! Cause Of Death: Embarrassment By: The Unknown Author Prologue Excerpt from D.E.A.T.H. new caseworker orientation “Death is the great mystery of humankind, specifically, what happens after a person dies. Different religions have different theories, beliefs that drive their members to be “good” people with the promise of a paradise beyond their mortal life and warn them of being “bad” for fear of ending up tortured and suffering in the afterlife. Some believe that there is no afterlife, that they’ll be reincarnated into another living thing once their life is over, others believe that there is merely nothing after someone dies, you just die and stop being aware of anything else as the empty void swallows your consciousness. The truth of it all is that when someone dies their “soul” comes here to the Department of Expiration and Afterlife Tallying in the Hereafter or D.E.A.T.H., when a person arrives at D.E.A.T.H., they are paired with a caseworker that goes over the defining moments of their life and the circumstances surrounding their death with the goal of bringing about acceptance of said demise to avoid said person becoming a ghost. As a caseworker, you will be given a file for each new arrival and will be expected to greet them when they arrive with a warm and welcoming tone as the transition process from the living realm to this one will leave them disoriented, fragments of knowledge about their situation may exist, but it is your chief goal to keep them calm and listening to you and not let them take control of the conversation. They will ask questions about why they are where they are and it will be your duty to reassure them, providing their file indicates they’ll be moving on to a better place, that their being with you is merely a formality and you’re working to expedite their transition as quickly and efficiently as possible. Should they be heading to a worse place, you’re to keep that information from them until you’ve completed your duty of setting up their transfer to avoid a vengeful spirit returning to the living realm. Performing well as a caseworker will provide you with the opportunity to advance within the organization. There are many different career paths available to those with an aptitude for handling the affairs of the dead such as: Reaping Accounting Unborn Soul Caretaking Training New Caseworkers And so many more! Some of you may be wondering why you were chosen for this role and the answer is simple, you and every other caseworker is uniquely qualified to be an important part of this organization and have been granted knowledge beyond your own life and time to allow you to aid others in their journey forward. Welcome to D.E.A.T.H.! ********* Working at D.E.A.T.H. is a lot like when you eat popcorn and get a hull stuck in your tooth that no matter how much you tongue it it just sticks there and you resign yourself to that being your life but then when it finally dislodges you feel such immense relief that you praise yourself for enduring such a hardship for those four and a half minutes that felt like weeks. Time, as a concept, doesn’t exist in our business, the living experience days and weeks but we have an eternal stretch of routine. The powers that be have blessed us with “time off” from our jobs in the form of the chronological equivalent to the blink of an eye, but we make due with what we’re given the best we can and then we’re instantly back at our desk again. That said, if “Monday’s” existed in the afterlife, this new assignment I’ve been given would be the equivalent of an eternity of Monday’s all stacked up on top of each other. “You’re not listening to me!” the woman seated in the chair in front of my desk shouted as she slammed her hands down on the desk, her entire form rippling and distorting briefly, signaling to me that she was headed for a vengeful spirit meltdown. I stood up calmly and walked around my desk to be at her side, putting my arm around her, “Hey, Samantha,” I said in a soothing tone, “I’m listening, but I need you to also listen to me, okay?” I asked. She was silent, her form stable once more. “Okay.” I said, taking my arm from her and kneeling down beside her, “Now, we’re in a bit of disagreement about how you died, right?” I asked. She glared at me, “No, you’re just wrong!” she spat. I sighed softly and reached up to retrieve the folder from my desk and opened it and scanned the document within until I found the part I was looking for, “It says that you experienced an event so humiliating that your soul left your body.” I told her. She smacked the file out of my hand, “Do you know how stupid that sounds?!” she shouted, her form rippling and writhing wildly once more. I picked the folder up and stood, “Okay, let’s see what happened then.” I said, going to the small table against the wall that held a television and remote on it. I turned the TV on and the image of Samantha appeared on the screen. Her form shuddered as she looked down at the ground, “Please, don’t make me watch it.” she pleaded. I ignored her, focusing on driving the point that she was wrong home to shut her up and get her out of my hair once and for all, “You don’t have to watch, but I am going to narrate what I see.” I told her. The image on the screen was basically a CCTV recording of Samantha’s kitchen, the recording being done from somewhere above and away from the circular table in the kitchen. Samantha was seated in a larger than normal highchair, her blonde hair tied up into adorable pigtails, her long legs dangling above the floor, swinging back and forth as she scooped a handful of chocolate pudding up from the little pink bowl on the tray locked in place in front of her and brought it to her mouth, slathering her cheeks and chin in the process and dripping some onto not just the bib around her neck, but also the very pretty dress she was wearing. I looked over at her where she sat in front of my desk and smiled at her, though her eyes were still cast to the floor and thus couldn’t see me looking at her. “Your dress is very pretty.” I told her. She was still wearing the lavender party dress, the frills beneath made her look like a flower turned upside down where she sat. She looked up at me and immediately back down to the floor when she saw me smiling, “Th-thank you.” she stammered. The pudding spots remained on the bib she still wore, a frilly pink number with “Daddy’s Messy Eater” written in elegant flowing cursive, and her cheeks and chin were still marred with the remnants of the treat, making me impressed with myself for not laughing at her when she tried to assert herself and overpower me in this situation. The man in the recording set down his paper and looked at his watch and then at the Samantha, sighing as he got up from the kitchen table, “Did you enjoy your pudding, baby?” he asked, gently stroking her hair with one hand. She looked up at him and nodded, “Yes, Daddy, it was very nummy!” she chirped. He bent forward so his face was level with hers, “Daddy put an extra special something into it to prepare you for your surprise.” he told her. Samantha furrowed her brow, “What-” she started to say before she stopped speaking, her face looking shocked as she looked from the bowl of pudding and back up at him. Taking a step back from her, he chuckled, “Pathetic.” he sneered. The sound of a doorbell ringing made me turn my attention back to the TV, noting that Samantha winced at the sound, her form shuddering once more, but not angrily this time. In the highchair, Samantha had stopped swinging her legs and enjoying her dessert, and had frozen in place as she looked to the sound of the doorbell, leaning this way and that to try and see something off screen. Her face contorted into abject terror as she shook her head vehemently and squirmed in the highchair, her cries of “No.” repeating over and over again, growing more frantic and panicked as a man and woman appeared from where the doorbell had rang. “Please.” Samantha said quietly. I paused the video. “Please, what?” I asked. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and pleading, “Don’t make me watch it.” she begged. “What happened?” I asked. She shook her head. I plucked the document from the folder, “Samantha Walters, age thirty four, was engaged in an Adult Baby play session with her husband and Daddy, William Walters, eating pudding that, unbeknownst to her, contained sedatives to limit her ability to fight against him, in her highchair when he excused himself for a moment to answer the door.” I read, eyeing the shaking woman seated before me above the paper briefly before continuing, “A short time after he excused himself, William returned with his-” I stopped reading aloud and read with just my eyes for a bit before stopping and lowering the paper to look at Samantha. She wasn’t able to cry, but the shudder of her form told me she was performing the spiritual equivalent of a sobbing emotional breakdown. I closed the distance between us and knelt down in front of her, hooking my finger beneath her chin and lifting it gently so she was looking at me, though her eyes tried to look anywhere but into mine. “What he did to you was awful.” I said sympathetically. She nodded, “I trusted him and let myself be truly vulnerable.” she whispered sullenly. I nodded, “I know, honey, but, I can’t change any of what happened, I just need you to accept that the humiliation of what he did was what ultimately, and tragically, ended your life so that you can move on.” I told her. She looked down at the floor, “To Heaven?” she asked, her demeanor and tone changing to something more akin to the age she was dressed as rather than her chronological age. I nodded, “According to your file, you’ve got a happy afterlife ahead of you.” I said, “But only if you let go of your hurt and anger.” I added. “If you hold onto that then you’ll be an angry ghost for a really long time and all you’ll feel is pain and hatred until you eventually forget why it is you’re so hurt and angry and you just disappear.” I explained, slipping into a tone more suitable for a young child. She nodded softly, “Is Heaven nice?” she asked. I sighed and shrugged, “Honestly, honey, I’ve never been, but I’m sure it’s great.” I told her. She looked over at the paused screen and then down at her outfit, “I felt really cute.” she confessed. “Like, my outside self matched my inside self for real for the first time and I wasn’t just pretending and playing dress up.” she continued. “Then he spoiled everything.” she pouted. I stroked her cheek softly, “He didn’t deserve a little girl as pretty and sweet as you, honey.” I told her. She smiled and threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly, “I’m sorry I got angry and yelled at you.” she said quietly. I hugged her back, rubbing her back and patting it softly, “It’s okay, I know how hard and scary it is dealing with all of this stuff suddenly.” I told her, “But I know that there’s nothing but happiness in your future and no one will ever hurt you again.” I added. She broke our embrace and nodded softly, “I’m ready.” she said before her form shuddered one final time as she accepted her fate and she began to glow brightly and then was gone from where she sat. I rose slowly and smiled, “Good girl.” I praised to the now empty office, turning my attention back to the TV to finish watching the recording. The man and woman that had entered were holding hands, the woman laughing at Samantha as her head lolled to the side to look at them from her place in the highchair. “Wow, you weren’t kidding, she’s adorable!” the woman cooed as she let go of the man’s hand and went to the highchair. The man chuckled, “Yeah, until you have to change her shitty diapers.” he cruelly joked. The woman looked over at him and knelt down, reaching up to push the wad of frills away to peek at Samantha’s diaper, effortlessly batting the girls legs away as she weakly struggled against her pervy intruder, her hands covering her face as she rose and looked at the woman, “Such pretty diapers!” she cooed, “Mommy can’t wait to see you fill them up for her!” she added, patting Samantha’s head as the woman in the highchair lazily pulled her head away to escape the touch before she trotted back over to the man and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Who she, Willm?” Samantha asked drunkenly, her words slurred and more akin to baby talk then she realized. William grabbed a handful of the woman’s ass and pulled her close to him, kissing her deeply before he lifted her up and spun around to set her onto the counter behind him. “This is Kiki, baby, and she is going to be your new Mommy, Sammy.” he said, kissing the Auburn haired woman’s neck as his hand groped her breast through her blouse. “Your Daddy needs a real woman, sweetheart.” Kiki teased, “When he puts you down for your little nappy naps in your crib, I’m who he calls to come keep him company.” she said, “When you’re filling your diapers, he’s looking at the pictures I send him of what a real woman looks like.” she teased. Samantha was crying now and awkwardly batted the bowl of pudding off the tray of the highchair, a gesture meant to be powerful and show them how angry she was, but simply made her look like a clumsy baby having a tantrum, “Oo cheeding bassad.” she slurred. William and Kiki ignored her outburst, William kneeling down to slide Kiki’s panties off her, “See these?” he asked his wife as he held up the lacy red garment, “These are damp with desire for me,” he said, walking over to the highchair and shoving the panties into Samantha’s face, “not with piss because you can’t control yourself.” he spat. Samantha whimpered and tried to pull her head away, but found herself too weak and slow to do more than sob into the panties that William held against her face, the smell of the other woman’s arousal and the indignity she was suffering making her blood boil, “I divose oo.” she squeaked. William glanced over at his wife and snorted, “How?” he asked, turning back to her, “I can keep you sedated and locked up in your crib until the day you die and no one will even know you’re gone.” he hissed, walking back to her slowly, “You have no friends,” he said raising his index finger and counting it, “no family,” he counted on his middle finger, “no job,” he counted on his ring finger, “and no kids.” he counted on his pinkie as he reached the highchair. “You’re nothing but a helpless and worthless freak, and you will accept your role as the baby of this house and Kiki as your Mommy even if I have to beat every last atom of adulthood and independence out of you.” he threatened. “Now, apologize to Mommy and Daddy for being naughty and pushing your pudding onto the floor.” he commanded. The gears in Samantha’s mind slowly turned at how malicious and aggressive her husband was being, how a man that had shown her nothing but love and care as a Daddy was now threatening her with physical violence not only broke her heart, but left her a blubbering mess of rage with no way to express it, of hurt with no ability to say anything to change it. Kiki walked over, her high heels clicking on the floor of the kitchen as she took her spot beside her man and looked at the pathetic example of a woman before her, “You better apologize, baby girl.” she warned. Samantha looked up at the pair with tears streaming down her cheeks, her life was ruined, her marriage was over, her adulthood was being rescinded, and she was strapped into a highchair in her once favorite dress, her hair done into pigtails by Daddy after he’d gotten her changed and dressed. She sobbed at the memory of feeling so cute, the embodiment of the little version of her that lived inside, that sweet little girl that loved her Daddy and felt safe in his arms crushed by the cruel reality of the world, snuffed out by a hateful man with selfishness and malice in his heart. Her head throbbed and her vision blurred, “I-” she started to say before she felt a pop in her head and then nothing. I watched her slump forward in the highchair, the embolism in her brain ending her life instantly, and watched as William and Kiki panicked and argued about what to do, and turned the TV off when they started talking about burying the body somewhere. I returned to my desk and brought up William’s file. Time doesn’t move the same in the afterlife, so, while Samantha had just appeared in my office and moved on with my help, Earth was at a different point entirely. William and Kiki had decided to bury Samantha in the backyard, and did so without issue, but Kiki, overcome with guilt over what had happened, had begun pestering William with notions of coming clean and accepting whatever may happen to them. William, ever serving his own self interests, did to Kiki what he’d threatened Samantha with, drugging the woman and keeping her locked up in the nursery his late wife had once occupied. I skimmed the document on the screen and stopped when I got to the end, smiling with morbid satisfaction. William had slipped in the shower and become paralyzed but alive, though he’d landed on the drain and effectively plugged it with his body and lived his last agonizing minutes watching the water level in the tub rise until he drowned. Meanwhile, Kiki, drugged and shackled in the crib, starved to death but suffered greatly thanks to a severe case of diaper rash caused by William failing to change her for several days. I checked the final location for both and nodded approvingly at their appointment to somewhere very unpleasant for the duration of eternity and closed the file. I mentioned that today was the first day of my new appointment, but I failed to share what that appointment was. I am “Head of Embarrassment Induced Life Termination”, which is a fancy way of saying that when someone “dies of embarrassment” it’s not hyperbolic, they may have physically had a heart attack or stroke or something, but the sheer humiliation they endured led to their demise and I get to explain that to them and make them accept what happened to them, neat, right? Also, even though I’m “Head” of that field, I am the only person handling those cases, why, you might ask, well, because of who my boss is. ********* “How did your first case go?” She asked, her fingers tented on her much larger than my own desk in her much larger than my own office. I nodded, “Fine.” I said. “Samantha Walters transitioned successfully.” I added. “I understand you continued watching her video after she transitioned and looked into the fate of her husband and his mistress.” she said, her lips pursing as she stared at me above her glasses. “Is that not allowed?” I asked. She stood and folded her arms behind her back, looking out the window at the infinite sea of cubicles below, “Ella, when a spirit dwells on what happened to them for too long, what happens?” she asked me without turning around. I sighed, “A spirit returns to Earth as a ghost when they refuse to accept their fate.” I said flatly. She turned and nodded, “And if an agent of D.E.A.T.H. were, let’s just say, to take too great of an interest in the affairs of the living or recently deceased?” she asked. I scoffed, “Are we really going to have this conversation again?” I snapped. She raised an eyebrow, “Watch your tone.” she warned. “I’m justifiably concerned about your attachment to the living.” she reminded. “You’re not to go any further than is necessary in the course of your duties, am I understood?” she asked. If I still had blood, it would’ve rushed to my face, “Is that an order from my boss or from my overbearing big sister?” I sneered. She sighed and took a seat on the edge of her desk in front of me, “As your boss, I’m warning you to do your job and not linger on your cases any more than is necessary.” she said calmly before she leaned in so she was face to face with me, “As your older sister, I’m telling you that if you sass me again, I’ll make sure your next post is even less desirable than your current one.” she said softly. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I whined. She rolled her eyes, “Ever the sniveling brat, aren’t you?” she asked rhetorically before sighing heavily, “I can’t leave you alone because it’s my job to account for the activities of my subordinates.” she reminded me, her tone authoritative but calm, “Also, because not all that long ago we had quite the issue with you and your,” she paused, searching for the word she wanted to use, “fascination” she said with a smug smirk, “with the living.” she said. “Oh, I’m sorry that I chose to come up here and have you lecture me about pointless shit, Mira.” I spat. “How rude it was of me to interrupt your busy schedule of smelling your own farts and congratulating yourself for being the daughter that died with dignity.” I snapped, folding my arms across my chest petulantly. “That’s not fair and you know it.” she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at me. She stood and returned to her seat, “You’re dismissed.” she said coldly, “But know that I’m monitoring your work going forward and if I see any warning signs, I’m pulling you from the floor.” she warned. I stood and made a theatrical bowing gesture, “Adieu, your highness.” I sneered before storming out of her office and slamming the door behind me. ********* “Everything alright?” a small voice asked from the doorway of my office some time later. I looked up from my monitor and smiled, “Yeah.” I said. “Just Mira being Mira.” I added. The little girl at the door crossed the threshold and hoisted herself up and into the chair in front of my desk. Lucy was perpetually four years old, and was the head of the children’s division of Reapers, her job is exactly as depressing as it sounds, but Lucy is sweet and amazing at her job and makes sure every client is happy and at peace when she brings them in. We can dress however we want, but Lucy leans into the four year old she looks like and wears cute little overalls with snaps up the inseam and crotch and these little Velcro shoes that light up and squeak when she walks and she has the most adorable little Afro that makes me want to scoop her up and snuggle her to pieces until I remember that she’s hundreds of years old at this point and hates being talked down to and treated like a child. “What’s got her knickers in a twist now?” Lucy asked. I sighed, “She’s worried that I’m going to go ghost because I watched a client’s video after they transitioned and looked up the husband and his mistress afterward.” I explained. “Are you?” she asked. I looked at her quizzically, “Am I what?” I asked. “Gonna go spook?” she asked. “No!” I said a little louder than I meant to, “This woman died of embarrassment because her dick hole husband slash Daddy drugged her against her will and brought his mistress over during highchair pudding time and proceeded to threaten her with a life of captivity and abuse if she didn’t accept her role as baby of the house.” I explained, “I was curious to see everything unfold and wanted a resolution to the story.” I clarified. Lucy nodded slowly, “Sounds like another Allison situation.” she said. I closed my eyes for a moment and saw a flash of Allison before opening my eyes, “We agreed never to mention her.” I reminded her. She smiled at me and nodded, though her smile did little to mask her worry, “We did agree to that, because it’s natural to have feelings like that.” she said. “I still struggle when I have to bring in a kid that drowned.” she told me. “It’s just not healthy to focus so hard on them that you go ghost.” she added. I nodded, “I know, and I’m fine.” I said flatly. “Thank you for checking on me though.” I added, smiling at her. She returned my smile, “Wanna hang out after work?” she asked as she slid off the chair and headed to the door. “Do you mind?” I asked. She shook her head, “Babysitting is fun.” she teased, sticking her tongue out at me and giggling as she slipped out the door, the squeak of her shoes making me smile. ********* I don’t know how Heaven and Hell, or whatever they’re called by whoever ends up there operate, but at D.E.A.T.H., because the work floor is an infinite labyrinth of cubicles and offices, we kind of just appear where we want or need to be at any given time, so after stepping out of my office, I’m instantly stepping into what is basically my living quarters, an oxymoron to be sure, but it is what it is. The thought is that if we have an outlet outside of our work that we won’t fall into the dangerous behavior like spending all our time coveting the living’s lives and filling ourselves with resentment and longing that causes us to turn into vengeful spirits that head to the living world to wreak havoc. Anything we want can be conjured, for lack of a better word, into our living quarters, some people have tables with puzzles in various states of completion, others have an entire orchestra’s worth of instruments to play, while some just watch TV. My living area has changed many times in the hundred plus years since I died and came here, but recently it’s changed to reflect the interests I’ve collected from my time working with the recently deceased, the “Allison” that Lucy had mentioned was the cause of the current setup, and the reason that Mira was so concerned about me. “If she’s so concerned about me becoming obsessed to the point that I turn ghost, why put me on the job she put me on?” I asked Lucy later that evening. Lucy shrugged her shoulders softly, “Exposure therapy?” she offered uncertainly, “Maybe she feels that showing you how things like this have caused people to die will make you not romanticize it.” she added as she twisted the cap on the baby bottle she had filled and brought it over to where I sat on the floor, holding it out for me to take with my outstretched hands. We don’t eat or drink, so nursing a bottle of milk is as useless as the diaper I wore but couldn’t use, it was all pantomime, theater for my senses to trick my brain into feeling like I was experiencing the things they did. “If humiliation were a deterrent, don’t you think I’d be doing this at my own place alone?” I asked between sucks of the bottle’s nipple. Lucy shrugged once more and lowered herself to the floor beside me, stroking my hair gently, “She loves you and just wants to make sure you don’t get into trouble.” she reminded me. I nodded softly and pulled the bottle from my mouth, “If she loved me then she’d let me see her.” I said bitterly. Lucy gently pushed the nipple back into my mouth, “I thought you were coming over to have some baby time, not to bitch and moan about Mira and how unfair things are for you.” she teased, her lips curling into a wicked little smile, “Unless you’re secretly looking for me to take you to Mira for a spanking.” she said, covering her mouth to stifle a soft giggle at my expense. I glared up at her and gave protesting grunt before I closed my eyes and drank my bottle like a good baby. “You know that she probably knows about you and I getting together to play, right?” she asked once the bottle was empty and set aside to be replaced with my pacifier. I shook my head, “She’s evil, but she still respects my privacy off the clock.” I said, pacifier bobbing as my garbled words came out around the sizable teat. Lucy stood and stretched, her overalls dissolving into pink footed pajamas, “We have some time left if you want to cuddle in the crib.” she offered. I nodded and willed my outfit to match hers, the bottom of my pajamas bulging around my diaper where hers were smooth and taught against her body. “Why don’t you ever wear diapers with me?” I asked as I crawled beside her to the nursery she had set up in the other room. Climbing up the little step stool in front of it, she worked the latch of the crib with her little hands and lowered the side, “I mean, diapers like what you’re wearing didn’t exist when I was alive and I’m not super interested in a giant wad of fabric under my clothes.” she answered as she waited for me to climb into the crib and lay down. “Then why bother with the snap crotch overalls and the overall toddler aesthetic?” I asked, watching her climb in and pull the side of the crib up before she snuggled up next to me. She kissed my forehead, “Because I was a cute ass baby and sadly I’m stuck being cute for the rest of eternity, but I can’t use a diaper anyway, so why not just skip it?” she asked. I giggled, “You are super cute.” I agreed, hugging her tightly like she was my own living, breathing stuffed animal. “You’re pretty cute yourself.” she said, “A little silly looking given your adult proportions, but I’d still pinch your cheeks and fawn over you.” she added. I pulled my pacifier out of my mouth and kissed her forehead, “I love you, Lucy.” I said, “I wish you were my sister instead of Mira.” I added before slipping my pacifier back in and closing my eyes. She sighed softly, “I love you too, baby sister.” she cooed in a soft whisper. ********* Mira watched the pair cuddling in the crib for a moment on her computer, the camera in the stuffed bear atop the changing table allowing her to see and hear everything happening in the nursery and made a disgusted groan as she turned the monitor off and sat back in her chair to contemplate the best course of action for dealing with her sister’s behavior. To Be Continued...
  22. Hello all. I plan to write a story about romance, humor and MDLB. The only issue is I'm French and I'm looking for someone to translate it in English. No need to speak french yourself : you can use google translator or an other tool to have an approximate translation and turn it in correct english. Anyone would be ok to do that?
  23. Hiii, I am abdl curious and i'm looking for some one to meet up who can roleplay, guide me through it and have fun. (I've been reading about abdl stories, life styles for several years already but i am completely new to actually doing it in person abdl wise) Nappy wise I have expierenced many. . I'm looking to make new friends within this community, whether it would be non-abdl or abdl / dl friends / daddys / mommys and potentially meet them in person after getting to know each other a bit(open to voice calls etc.) Dorset / Bournemouth but can travel.
  24. Hi folks. The story of Mike’s forced regression, and Sandra’s devious/ dominant hand in that continues - but this time with the introduction of a new (old) flame. This will be at least a two part story. Mike’s changing (ha) relationship with Katie the preschool teacher isn’t finished yet. The name of the daycare facility is a tribute to an old story that some of you might recognize. As always, all characters are 18+. Please note: Although this story takes place in a daycare setting, it presents/ focuses solely on a conversation between 3 adults. This story contains mental regression and gentle femdom, along with strong AB elements. Feedback and critique are welcome. Before Daycare Sandra held Mike’s hand tightly in hers as they walked up the sidewalk towards the brick building she remembered so well. She wasn’t having to drag him up the sidewalk, which was a good start. His response had been less than enthusiastic when she had first suggested the Little Helpers program. They left the summer heat behind as they moved through the double doors and into the air conditioned reception area. Almost immediately, a plump 50s-something woman who Mike didn’t know scurried out from behind the big desk that dominated the entry space and wrapped Sandra in a giant hug. Sandra hadn’t seen Diane in almost 10 years, and truth be told, she was a little surprised to find her still here. It was as if nothing had changed with her. Same out-of-style hairdo. Same bright-colored “designer” tracksuit that accentuated her curves in all the wrong places. And apparently still uninterested in having any more responsibility attached to her job than keeping an eye on the front door, signing for packages, and answering phone calls. Mike found it a little intimidating having this strange woman invade their shared personal space so suddenly and loudly. He had a strong urge to hide behind Sandra, but he managed to push that aside. Instead, he held her hand tightly and surveyed his surroundings as the “adults” caught up. It was a stereotypical one story daycare building located along a busy road. At some point, Sunny Hills Daycare might have been operated by one of those corporate chains, but now it was in private hands. Cool linoleum covered the floors in all directions lit up by florescent panels. A long hallway with multi-colored, half-windowed doors extended to the right. A cacophony of different sounds, shouts, and cries came from that direction. To the left, was a shorter hallway with what looked like a kitchen/ laundry and an office at the end. Suddenly, Mike realized that Sandra and Diane were both looking at him: “Are you going to say hello back to Miss Diane?”, Sandra asked gently, pulling him forward a bit. Mike gave a wave and shy little hello, which prompted a snort and a proclamation of his “adorableness” from Diane. “You can go on through and wait in the office”, she said, “Katie had to run back to her classroom for just a sec but she will be right there, Diane said. The office was a small space, barely enough to fit a modest desk with 2 adult-size chairs in front. In the corner farthest from the door sat a smaller chair and desk painted in bright red, which also had a basket of children’s books on top. Mike started to sit in one of the adult chairs, but was redirected to the corner seat by Sandra. He decided not to object. He didn’t really want to be part of this particular conversation anyway. The regression center Sandra had enrolled him in last Christmas offered a number of “extracurricular”(AKA for an additional fee) programs and experiences for littles. Most were expensive and even a little kitschy. But there was one extracurricular offering that had caught Sandra’s eye almost immediately. Of course it helped that the Little Helpers Daycare Program was one of the only free options, (provided that a suitable placement could be found), but that wasn’t the main reason she was interested. The program provided opportunities for littles enrolled in the regression program to “perform supervised volunteer and learning activities” at a number of local daycares. Little Helpers were not paid carers or even interns. And they weren’t daycare kids either. They existed somewhere in between. They helped with simple tasks like passing out crayons, or picking up after snack time, while receiving an appropriate level of care and supervision for their regressed development level. They were not allowed to perform any actual care activities (partly for licensing reasons and partly because they weren’t always capable) but they were allowed and encouraged to join in on daily activities where appropriate. Most Little Helpers enjoyed story time (and needed nap time) as much as the others. The program had proven to be very popular. Moms like her enjoyed the free time of course, and program participants like Mike benefited as well, especially in terms of their regression progress and socialization. Like it or not, humans are pack animals, and the norms and characteristic behaviors of one’s peer group tend to rub off on the individual. Participants in the Little Helpers program tended to be more accepting of their status overall and less resistant to major regressive steps or changes at home, such as the introduction of afternoon naps (something Mike had been adamantly opposed to at first). But it was the daycare providers and curriculum companies who liked the Little Helpers most of all. Not because of the free labor - the Little Helpers didn’t really do enough in the classroom to earn their keep that way. They liked them because they were still adults, (at least in age), which meant they could be used for market research, curriculum testing, and direct feedback on programs and care protocols without having to go through a bunch of pesky ethics review boards. And best of all, the data was coming from individuals who were much more in tune with the needs and interests of their target market. It was a virtual data gold mine - especially for the corporate chains who could afford high powered marketing and data analytics teams to support these efforts. Sandra suspected that the chains were probably subsidizing the programs via the regression centers to keep them free and therefore more attractive to carers and parents of enrollees. Whatever - it worked - and it was really no different to what the social media companies were doing with her data all day every day. Mike could be their little guinea pig as long as it also served her purposes. Her thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of Katie: “Sorry to keep you waiting - one of my kids spilled paint EVERYWHERE and I had to help with cleanup and locating a change of clothes.” “No worries - It comes with the territory!” said Sandra with a little laugh, and then they hugged briefly - but not nearly as long as she had hugged Diane. It had been nearly five years since she had seen Katie. She knew she worked here now of course, (she’d provided her letter of reference) but she’d been much younger and less mature the last time she had actually seen her. Now, in addition to sporting a sizable rock and wedding band on her left hand, she was also visibly pregnant. If Sandra had to guess, she’d say between 5-6 months - definitely into the glowing stage. Katie had always been pretty in a cutesy way, but pregnancy seemed to have enhanced her looks further, softening some edges and accentuating her curves. She looked more womanly than girlish now. As Sandra took in these changes, Katie turned to Mike, who started to get up from his low chair at the same moment that she bent down to hug him. The net effect was that Mike ended up receiving a faceful of Katie’s boobs instead of the intended hug. He said something in greeting, but it was too muffled against her chest to be intelligible. Katie wasn’t at all phased. After a quick pat to the back, she released Mike, turning back to her seat behind the desk and sitting down with her attention focused on Sandra. Mike also sat back down, taking care to locate the small chair underneath him, lest he fall off and embarrass himself in front of her. He had noticed that Katie smelled really good when she had embraced him - some particularly intoxicating combination of soap and something sweet. Vanilla mixed with maple syrup maybe? Whatever it was, he certainly didn’t mind it. His nose was so sensitive now! Whereas Diane’s copious floral perfume had almost made him gag earlier, this combination of smells had a much different effect on him. It put him immediately at ease and made him wish he could have more and much longer cuddles with her. He was suddenly overcome with a particularly vivid image of reaching for her, and Katie picking him up to hold him crossways across her body with one hand on his bottom and his face pressed into her soft breasts. The warm, full body embrace and that curiously inviting smell enveloped him, relaxing him so deeply that he started to… “Mike!…Mike?…Hello?…Miss Katie is asking you a question!”, Sandra said with amused tolerance, breaking him from his reverie. He gave a startled look and shook his head. He’d gotten lost again. These little “zone out episodes” as Sandra called them were becoming both more frequent and decidedly more babyish in scope lately. Sometimes he’d even find himself acting them out, but through a weirdly disembodied shift in perspective in which it felt as if he were observing a smaller version of himself. It was like there were two people sharing his body now. And toddler Mike was booking way more than just cameos these days. He had no idea how much time had passed, but the girls had obviously had time to catch up with one another and move on to the business at hand - him. He looked up at Katie guiltily, but she just smiled at him as she repeated: “I was asking if you wanted a sticker, sweetie? I’ve got one here I think you might really like.” She held it to out him, and he stood again to take it, now noticing a little bit of warm dampness in the front of his pants that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. Like the zone outs, these little lapses in control were an increasingly common side effect of his regression, often occurring in tandem with them, and sometimes turning into full-blown accidents. Thankfully, this one felt rather small and easily contained within his padded panties. There was no need to tell Sandra or Miss Katie about it. But he might need to ask for the toilet soon… Mike turned the sticker over in hands, studying it. It was bright metallic blue with yellow lettering that said “ LITTLE HELPER” in block capitals. In the background he noticed a variety of stenciled farm animals. He could name all of them. Most prominent was a cute little duckling with a very round bottom…almost as if… Katie was talking again. Mike peeled his attention away from the sticker, noticing that his pants felt quite a bit warmer in front now. Oops! But there was no time to think about that, because Katie was telling him in a very serious, grown up voice about how important it was for him to wear the sticker all the time while he was at the daycare, so that she and the other staff knew that he was one of the big kid helpers and not one of the daycare kids. He wouldn’t want them to mistake him for a baby, would he? Mike shook his head, indicating a hard “NO” to being mistaken for a baby. And to show he understood the importance of the sticker, he peeled off the backing and placed it on his chest. “Good boy!” Katie said, using a syrupy tone that would normally not be used to speak to a big kid. But Mike didn’t seem to notice. In fact he was beaming. He’d always had a “praise thing” going on for as long as Sandra had known him - it was one of the first tools she’d used to bring out his subby side after they started dating. Now, as she watched the dynamic between them, Sandra was absolutely convinced that she had made the right choice enrolling him here. She had chosen this location partly because she knew it. She had worked at Sunny Hills for almost 3 years before marrying Mike - first as a teacher and then as the supervisor in the toddler room. It was an excellent facility that received consistently high marks from parents as well as state inspectors. In truth, Mike wasn’t quite ready for the preschool room anymore. The regression program had really started to take hold in the spring, and he was frequently acting more like a two-year old (in words and deeds) than a pre-schooler per-se. He needed a lot of guidance and help with even the most basic tasks, including (especially?) toileting. He often had trouble making it to the potty on time without being reminded, and would struggle with getting his clothing off when he did. Some days it felt like the potty was an altogether alien concept to him. The thickly padded training pants she’d been putting him in were barely adequate for his current level of daytime continence. He was almost always a little damp when she checked him. On the advice of another mom from the regression playgroup, she had tried slinging a toddler prefold into the crotch of his trainers, but that had provoked an absolute meltdown when he noticed the extra bulk, and so she had not tried that again. Picking her battles was a mark of her maturity compared to Mike, who now made a big, repeated deal about everything. At least he was diapered for naps and nighttime now. That was a significant victory, and it had also made her life and sleep schedule much easier. Despite his lingering stubbornness about “baby things”, Mike hated wet beds, and had willingly accepted a diaper for these times. Of course there had been no mention of bed wetting pants or similar products for older children. It was either thick, nighttime diapers adorned with cute Winnie the Pooh designs, or a cold, wet bed. Easy choice. She kept them on hIm for as long as possible after a sleep, and she was pretty good at finding creative excuses to put them on early. But Mike could still be depended on to demand his “big boy pants”, even when she didn’t mention them. As of yet, she hadn’t refused this request. The change would come in time. It was inevitable. There was no need to rush. Besides, she had to admit that her dominant side found his pee soaked undies absolutely adorable in a way that was different to his wet diapers. They made her wet too, but in a much more grown up way. Wet training pants were “accidents”, and accidents were supposed to be embarrassing for “big boys.” Despite the slippery (and wet) slope he was on, Mike still knew that too, and his blushy responses to her questions about the condition of his pants were worth the extra cleanup and laundry duties. She’d stopped orchestrating or “facilitating” these accidents herself - he was perfectly capable of peeing or even occasionally messing in his pants on his own these days. But she still took advantage of every one to reinforce his status and dependence on her. She had started changing him lying down using the strongest smelling baby wipes she could find. She would linger over his private parts as she held his legs and wiped him, making sure to comment if she found traces of diaper rash, or a dirty bottom from his diminished wiping skills. Then she’d finish by putting a liberal dollop of lavender scented diaper cream on the fingers of her free hand, and slowly and sensuously trace a path through his butt crack and up and over his scrotum. These moments were heavenly for both of them. The cream didn’t seem to affect the absorbency of the training pants, and Sandra liked knowing that it served as a sticky reminder of his diminished status. In fact, it probably felt a lot like having a poopy diaper, and getting him used to that feeling wasn’t a bad idea at this point. Turning back to matters of the present, Sandra also knew that Katie would care for Mike in similarly gentle and nurturing ways. True, she probably wouldn’t get off on it like Sandra did, but that was a good thing. Being checked and changed in a preschool setting, where accidents were common and dealt with matter-of-factly by trained staff, would take his diaper training and acceptance to levels she could never achieve on her own at home. She wasn’t sure if Mike remembered Katie or not. Judging by his reactions, he at least felt comfortable around her. But the regression program seemed to have scrambled his memories pertaining to adults he didn’t interact with on a regular basis. Shared histories and memories of specific events were gone, but the emotional connections (including his like or dislike of specific people) often remained. Maybe it was something to do with conscious versus subconscious memory and how those manifested differently in thought or behavior. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter really. Because she remembered Katie. And Katie remembered him. And that was the main reason she has decided to enroll Mike here as a Little Helper. Katie had been their next door neighbor for her first five years of marriage to Mike. When they first moved in, she has been a rising freshman at the local community college and was very much that stereotypical, fresh-faced teen girl next door who shows up as a bright green blip on the radar of both husbands and wives. From the start, Mike had done little to hide his infatuation with Katie, which was surprising because he was normally shy and introverted around women. He seemed to look for excuses to talk to her and her friends. He behaved differently when she was around. It wasn’t quite creepy, but it was overt.. She knew he fantasized about fucking her, (or more accurately for Mike, being fucked by her) even if he was probably too shy to go through with it. Probably. Sandra had never been 100% sure whether or not anything physical had transpired between them. On one occasion, she’d come back early from a girls night out to find him hanging in Kati’e’s garage at a small party. Mike was the oldest one there by at least a few years. He had provided the alcohol, and she and he were both obviously buzzed and standing very close to one another when she had first entered the garage. Sandra had managed to hide her anger as she grabbed Mike’s wrist, announcing loudly that it was time for him to go home and get ready for bed. That statement had provoked some giggles from Katie and her friends, but not in a way that felt directed at her or her desire to protect her marriage. Katie wasn’t mean, but she was still a threat, especially to guys like Mike. Like Sandra, she was naturally maternal and nurturing in a way that men like Mike often found irresistible. In fact, it had been easy to write Katie a letter of recommendation for this position on the basis of that personality trait alone: she was a natural with kids, and they tended to love her almost immediately, just as Mike had. She had been happy to extend Katie that professional courtesy, and she knew her letter of recommendation would go a long way at Sunny Hills. Katie had probably gotten this job because of her. And now she could use that to her advantage on a more personal level. Enrolling Mike here now, in his diminished condition, and with Katie as his official caretaker, was the perfect ending to the little relationship they may or may not have had behind her back all those years ago. If Mike wanted this other woman to dominate and mother him, then he was going to get it - just on a much more realistic and infantile level than he had ever intended. She wanted Katie to see Mike for who he was, then and now, and she knew Mike wouldn’t be capable of hiding the gory wet details for long. But Katie didn’t know about these ulterior motives, and she doubted that Katie would be open to putting him here on that basis. So - if her plan was going to work, she needed to get Mike through the preschool enrollment process the old fashioned way: by telling teeny tiny little white lies about his level of independence and development, (including toilet training). It was ironic how the regression program so often imitated the everyday lived experience of parents with actual toddlers. Here she was, trying to sneak her 32 year old into a preschool program that he didn’t quite qualify for. She had prepped Mike for this visit, coaching him on what to say and making it clear that Katie needed to see that he could still be a big boy if she were going to let him be a special helper in her class. She hoped it would be enough. And more to the point, she hoped that he wouldn’t zone out into baby mode during their meeting today. She’d seen him starting to slip away momentarily after Katie had hugged him, but she managed to snap him out of it fairly quickly. Still, she wondered if his pants were still dry… Thankfully, they were nearly through the meeting now. She had done most of the talking for Mike to this point, but now Katie turned her attention back to him. Sandra looked at him anxiously, but she could tell that he was still with it. So far so good! Katie began: “Mike, before I agree to let you be a helper in my class, I have just a few questions for you, OK?” Mike nodded his head and looked up at her shyly. It was actually really cute, (which Sandra hoped didn’t work against him). But Mike needn’t have worried or been nervous. These weren’t hard questions, and he knew all of the answers, even if some of them were a little bit embarrassing. She started off asking him about the regression program, whether he liked his friends at regression playgroup/ how he got along with them, what kinds of tv shows he liked, and what were his favorite books? Katie wasn’t really interested in the specific answers to these questions, so much as how he responded to them. She was gauging his level of social and intellectual maturity. As the biggest “kid” in the room, would he be capable of playing nice and following her instructions? Finally, her questions turned to toileting and accidents. Sunny Hills didn’t have a strict “no diapers” policy for preschool like some other places, but kids who were still mostly in diapers or who had frequent accidents were better suited to the toddler room that Sandra used to manage. There was more to do and learn in preschool, and diaper/ clothing changes took up valuable time. Katie’s tone was gentle but insistent now: Did he ever make tinkles in his pants? Was that because he didn’t know he had to go, or because he just left it too late (Sandra had coached him to indicate only the latter, even though she was pretty sure both had been true at different times). Mike passed this little test with flying colors. When the questions turned to poopy accidents, Sandra noticed a change in Mike’s demeanor. He still felt very embarrassed about these (much more than wetting accidents), and would try to hide them from her when they happened. Mike blushed deeply and held up three fingers without looking up at Katie. “Does that mean you’ve made poopy in your pants three times?” Katie asked softly. Mike nodded almost imperceptibly in response, while continuing to stare down at the desk. They both breathed a sigh of relief when Katie smiled and replied: “well a big boy like you should know that three is a very small number. It’s definitely not something to be embarrassed about it it?” She paused, waiting for a response from Mike. He looked up, his face less red now, and shook his head “no”. Katie nodded, apparently satisfied with his answers. She was in full-on teacher-mode now: “OK Mike, I’ll make a deal with you: If you’re going to be my Little Helper, then you need to set a good example for the kids in my class. Because you’re not a baby. And neither are they. So I expect everyone in my class to at least try to use the potty when they notice they have to go, and that includes you. Can I trust you to do that for me?” Mike nodded, looking pleased. He could definitely do that. “And when you do have an accident, I expect you to come tell me or another member of staff straight away. OK? I won’t be mad, I promise. Telling me about accidents is another way you can show me that you are a big boy, and also set a good example for the others.” Mike nodded again. He could definitely do that too! But Katie couldn’t let this point go just yet. She needed him to understand the consequences of not sticking to their deal: “Because only little babies go potty in their pants without telling anyone. And if that happens too often in my class, then you will get sent to a different classroom where everyone wears diapers (yes, even the helpers like you),and no one gets to use the potty, not even for poopies!” She paused for a moment to let that last part sink in… “That doesn’t sound very fun, does it? You don’t want me to think you’re a baby who needs to wear diapers and is too little to be in my class do you?” Mike shook his head “no” - he definitely didn’t want her to think that “Good! Then I think this is gonna work out great!” She turned now to Sandra: “OK. Wet pants are no big deal, and we can change them in the staff bathroom or the classroom bathroom if it’s unoccupied. Wetting accidents are expected at his age (or rather his stage of development), but it is also good that you are keeping him in training pants so that he feels wet when he goes. We don’t want him getting used to being in wet pants, or feeling comfortable when he is wet”… “…Although…having said that, I realize that advice might not apply in Mike’s case, at least depending on how far you want him to…go…” She paused, trying to find the right words: “I guess what I’m saying is that, for kids in the regression program, it might be different…but I still think it’s best that we approach their care exactly as we would for any of the other kids in my classroom. Otherwise I’m not doing my job properly!” She smiled as she said this. And Sandra smiled back and nodded in agreement. If only she knew! “But state law says that soiled pants have to be changed in a designated diaper changing area. And that means taking him to the toddler classroom to be changed when or if that happens, which obviously also necessitates that the changing area is free for us to use in private. It’s A LOT more work and coordination to change poopy pants, and it means I have to be away from my classroom while I take care of him. So, if he starts having a lot of poopy accidents, we might have to think about putting him in diapers to make cleanup easier or even placing him in the toddler classroom where they are better equipped to take care of it. But for now, let’s assume that’s not going to happen, because I can tell Mike wants to be a big boy for me.” She turned to smile at Mike as she said this last part, and he smiled back. He liked Miss Katie! Katie turned back to Sandra: “Just like with any preschooler, you’ll need to provide a couple of spare pairs of training pants, a change of clothing, and a supply of diapers if he wears them for naptime?” She looked at Sandra questioningly as she asked this, but it was not a gotcha question. About 1/4 of the preschoolers still needed diapers or pull-ups at naptime. Sandra indicated that he did, and Sandra replied: “Great, please send along at least a 2 week supply and we will keep you updated when they start running low. Usually parents just put together a backpack with all this stuff in it, and maybe a favorite cuddly toy - anyway you already know the drill here, ‘you’ve been there done that’ as they say!” Sandra smiled and said she could do that, and it seemed the interview was coming to a successful close. But before they got up to leave, Katie turned to Mike and asked him if he had any questions for her. Mike didn’t know what to say. Sandra hadn’t coached him on how to respond to this question about questions. But he did remember the promise he had made a few minutes ago. And so he decided now was a good opportunity to show her that he could stick to their deal. “I tinkled in my big boy pants, Miss Katie” he said without a hint of shame. Katie let out a good-natured laugh in response. And so did Sandra. Because that one little sentence, those nine simple words that conveyed so much about status, power, and dependence, were a better start to Mike and Katie’s new relationship than Sandra could have hoped for.
  25. Hi folks - I hope you enjoy the second part in my daycare short stories series. There will be a third and final part coming soon. As always, characters are 18+ and comments/ critique are welcome! This story contains a lot of discussion about messing. You’ve been warned. Earlier at Daycare (or Mike and Katie Part 2) Her phone was ringing. Sandra glanced at it and saw “MIKE DAYCARE” flashing on the screen. She had just sat down on the back patio with a small joint and a glass of wine. This was supposed to be her “me time.” True, it was only 11AM, but non-traditional mommies like her had to find time and ways to relax whenever they could. Hell, traditional mommies could get baked and buzzed before noon for all she cared, and she knew plenty of them did. She needed this today. Mike had been a whiny grump that whole morning, culminating in a tantrum (as in legs kicking and arms pounding on the floor) when she’d informed him that they were out of milk, and he’d have to have apple juice with breakfast instead. Call it the “terrible 32s.” She probably should have disciplined him, but she had decided to let it go, wordlessly handing him the sippy cup of juice once he had calmed down enough to take it. They both knew she had “won” whatever battle he had thought he was fighting. She always did. He had lain there on the kitchen floor, drinking his juice morosely and occasionally making little post-crying shuddering sounds until it was time to get ready to go. There was no time for a proper breakfast. Getting Mike dressed and out the door had been equally trying. He’d completely soaked his pants not 5 minutes after she had changed and dressed him. Normally she left him in his nighttime diaper for longer, but they were already off to a late start, and she had taken a chance that the apple juice had already gone through him. No dice. She supposed she should be pleased that these morning wettings were routine for both of them now. In fact she couldn’t recall the last time he had asked for the potty in the morning. He stayed in, and fully used, his bedtime diaper until it was time to get ready to leave. Sandra hoped this in-between-diapers-and-potty-training stage wouldn’t last much longer. No parent or caregiver enjoyed it - at any age. Life would be sooooo much easier for both of them when she had him back in diapers full-time, when his accidents would no longer be considered “accidents”, and when she would have full control over when and where he was changed. In an effort to speed things along, she had read everything she could about effective potty training strategies and procedures, and then started doing the exact opposite with Mike. So for instance, when they were at home she let him stay wet for as long as possible after an accident (without risking damage to the carpet or furniture of course). Mike had always been less-than-meticulous about his hygiene, and it hadn’t taken long before he was perfectly content to sit in wet pants for as long as she wanted him too. Sometimes he wasn’t even aware that he needed a change until she announced it. The delay tactic had the added benefit of making additional wettings even easier and less bothersome for him. When you were already wet, what did it matter if you got a little wetter? In fact, why bother holding it at all in those circumstances? Much easier just to let go at the slightest urge. It was a vicious circle that Sandra was orchestrating with the gentlest, most nurturing of hands. When she saw signs that he needed to go, she would ask him if he was “about to make pee pee?” This subtly suggestive phrasing allowed her to maintain the illusion of concern for his continence, while often provoking him to wet on the spot. His cute little “potty face” was a dead giveaway, even if he didn’t always wet enough to soak through the thick trainers. Sandra loved knowing that she now had the power to make him wet himself on command. She wondered if the staff at the regression clinic could leave him with that mental trigger? It might be fun and useful, even after he became fully incontinent. She had also changed how she dealt with cleanup. Instead of changing him in the bathroom while standing up (as one would for a “big boy” that had had an accident, and as recommended in literally every potty training guide), she had started laying him down on a changing mat in the living room for every change. In truth, this arrangement made more work for her (and potentially more mess because the cloth trainers did not open at the sides like a diaper). But she knew that there was nothing quite like holding a man’s legs in the air and gently wiping his bottom to induce feelings of deep, infantile dependence. It’s a trigger that is wired into our subconscious literally from day one. Changing him in the living room also reinforced the idea that poop and pee (and the cleanup routines that followed) weren’t necessarily things that had to take place in the bathroom. They could happen anywhere. And that was fine. It was good. Mike was realizing that he had options now. And one of those options was simply a lot more convenient when he was engrossed in a more preferred activity. In fact, accidents could now be expected at these times, unless she or the daycare staff intervened. And she rarely did. She’d even allowed him to poop in his pants at the park the other day, despite the very obvious cues that he was about to have (or was having) a bowel movement. She’d watched with amusement as Mike paused his little game in the sandbox and froze, staring off into space as if mesmerized by the act of filling his drawers. Any experienced parent or caregiver who saw that expression and posture would have recognized instantly what was happening. Thankfully, she seemed to be the only one looking in Mike’s direction at that moment, and they had the sandbox to themselves. She knew she wouldn’t able to change him there, despite his regressed state. But Mike didn’t want to leave, and had even requested to go back to playing after she had called him over and checked him (NBD right?). Letting him play in dirty pants was an enticing proposition on some levels, but not something she wished to expose others to. She ended up having to literally drag him from the park while he fussed loudly and lied that he hadn’t gone poopy in his pants and he didn’t need changing. She had managed to find enough privacy between their car and the one parked next to it to hastily tape his naptime diaper on over his soiled training pants. At least the car seats were protected. Mike had started to object to this, but one stern look from Sandra and a quick smack to his squishy backside put a stop to that. She was done taking crap from him today, at least in the idiomatic sense. The car ride had been less-than-pleasant in terms of the smell, but making him sit in his mess like an awkward toddler was worth it. She’d even taken a detour through the McDonald’s drive-through to prolong his suffering. When they got home, she had put him in his booster seat at the kitchen table and made him finish his happy meal before finally taking him to the living room for a change. When doing so, Sandra noticed that the diaper she’d put on him was a little wetter than she expected, and also lightly soiled in spots from the escaped contents of his training pants. This discovery gave her a wicked idea: She gave Mike a single, cursory wipe to scrape the bulk of the mess off his bottom, and then she taped his slightly poopy butt back into the slightly poopy and wet diaper. Mike was surprised at first, but knew he was in no position to object. He didn’t even complain a few minutes later when she pulled him into her lap, clad in just his tee shirt and a wet and soiled diaper, and fed him an extra large sippy of warm milk as if he were an infant drinking from a bottle. She had decided not to tease him too much - the diaper and baby treatment were more than enough to humiliate him. But even so, she couldn’t resist a few tickles, crotch pats, and bum squishes along with feigned ignorance as to where the smell of a stinky baby was coming from? When he finished the bottle (oops sippy), she had patted his messy bottom a final time and sent him off to his bed to nap alone - leaving a faint whiff of dirty diaper trailing behind him down the hall. Mike was rashy and grumpy when he woke up, and she was down an expensive pair of cloth training pants that were now in the trash, but overall the afternoon at the park had been worth it. She knew the daycare felt and treated him differently (for obvious reasons). But she also knew, based on his daily activity reports and her conversations with Katie, that what was happening at home was having an effect on his toileting at Sunny Hills as well. At this point, Mike was pretty much functionally incontinent unless consistently reminded not to be. He needed to be back in diapers. They were almost there. But he was still stubbornly, even adamantly resistant to this next step in his regression. Daytime diapers were a bad word in their house, which was partly why she had decided to leave their eventual (inevitable) introduction to the staff at Sunny Hills. She figured Mike would be less willing and/or able to resist that change when the time came if it came from the daycare staff. She knew from talking with his mother that he’d been very difficult to potty train. And he was still obviously diapered in the photos from his 3rd birthday party (Sandra had a practiced eye for these things, and Mike’s mom wasn’t shy about sharing photos). So it probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he was equally difficult to diaper train. And besides, that knowledge had proved beneficial in lots of fun ways, even before Mike had started his regression therapy. She remembered it vividly. It was the first time she had become aware of her dominant side on such a sexual level. His blushy reaction to her gentle teasing about having his dirty dydee changed in front of all his little party friends had made her so wet she’d left a visible spot on the crotch of her jeans. Their love making that night had been incredible, especially after she started using the baby talk voice again, teasing and encouraging him to have an “accident” inside of her instead of pulling out like usual. When she knew he was close, she had pulled him in tighter, shoving her tit in his mouth and telling him to be a good baby for her as he gushed inside her while protesting weakly around her slick nipple. Unfortunately, it was also a bittersweet memory, because it had marked the start of a relatively sad time in their marriage when they learned that they would never be able to have children of their own. She’d have to content herself with Mike to fulfill both her sex drive and her more domestic nurturing and mothering urges… Sandra shoved these thoughts from her mind and returned to the present. Could she let the call go to voicemail? No. Probably not. Probably should not. She knew from experience that Sunny Hills wouldn’t call unless there was some sort of problem, and she had found it really annoying when parents hadn’t answered her calls when she worked there. Reluctantly, she picked up the phone and wasn’t surprised to hear Katies cheerful voice coming through from the other line: “Hi Sandra, It’s Katie over at Sunny Hills…” “Yes I’m fine, thanks. It’s not an emergency or anything, but I wanted to talk to you about Mike…” “Yeah - he’s been a handful for us too, which is actually part of the reason I’m calling…” “Well he made some poor choices this morning in terms of his behavior, acting out and throwing toys, and he was also more emotional than usual…” “Yeah we’ve had lots of tears about little things this morning, so I decided to keep him in with me during outside playtime.” Without really realizing it, Sandra’s hand had snaked down to her crotch as she envisioned Mike being punished by Katie for acting so babyish. “And then, while he was inside cleaning up the mess he had made earlier, he had a pretty big accident in his pants…” “Yep…“ ”No, and I’m sorry I wasn’t watching him more carefully. He actually hasn’t been very good about telling me when he needs to go this week, so I’ve been trying to keep a sharper eye on him. It’s usually pretty obvious when he needs to poop, but…” “Yes exactly! [Katie punctuated this affirmation with a good natured laugh]. But this time I didn’t notice until I smelled him. And unfortunately, he didn’t tell me about it either - before or after.” Sandra’s hand was inside her panties now. She had to suppress a moan. A finger slid it’s way into her slick crease. The thought of Mike, knelt on the floor, busy with some task, and quietly pooping in his pants like a 2 year old was absolutely exhilarating. The thought of the smell betraying him to Katie was almost too delicious to bear. That kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in the preschool classroom. And there had been no other, more likely culprits present to pin it on. Katie would have known from the first whiff that it was her Little Helper who had dirtied his pants. She wondered if Katie had bothered to ask his permission before she reached down and pulled back the bunched elastic waistband of his not-quite-diapers to confirm with her eyes what her practiced nose was already telling her? He hadn’t pooped yesterday, so it was probably a pretty big one, and the trainers didn’t have as much room in the seat as a disposable diaper. Katie would have seen it immediately. She wondered what his face looked like when she got down on his level and asked him in a serious, but nurturing tone, if he had poop in his pants, and if so, why hadn’t he come and told her he needed changing like he was supposed to? She also wondered if he had tried to lie about it at first, despite the visual and olfactory evidence to the contrary. Perhaps he had even stomped his foot and shouted: “not got stinky!” or “no change me!” in a petulant and ineffectual attempt to dodge her persistent questioning. Fuck, that mental image made her so wet… She pictured him doing the “walk of shame” down the hallway towards the changing facilities, one hand held tightly in Katie’s, and the other clamped tightly over his dirty bottom, trying desperately to keep the load inside from shifting around too much. The trainers she had been putting him in were basically pull-on cloth diapers (sans cover), and would probably contain the mess unless he sat in it, but Mike didn’t seem to know that. He had held his bottom the same way at the park the other day, even as claimed in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear that he was not poopy. She snapped back to the conversation when she realized that Katie was still talking. “It’s no big deal. Luckily, the toddlers were also having outside play time so the changing facilities in that classroom were free for us to use in private…” That did it. That mental image - of Mike laying teary-eyed on the plastic-covered cushion of the toddler room changing table, his thumb in his mouth, his striped tee shirt tucked up over his pot belly, naked from the waist down with his soiled “big boy pants” tied up in a bag next to him, with Katie wiping his poop-covered bottom, and his crotch already glistening from where she had wiped him previously - all of those things combined into the image that pushed her over the edge into one of the strongest “solo” orgasms she’d ever had. She shuddered, and bit her lip. It was Katie doing these things, and seeing Mike in this way. It was almost too much to think about right now. She’d need to process it later, and maybe rub another one out… She realized Katie had paused: “Sandra? Are you still there?” “Yeah - sorry - I was just walking upstairs” Sandra said, breathlessly. “No worries…Anyway, I got him cleaned up and into a fresh pair of trainers - he’s out of spare training pants and backup clothing by the way…” “Yeah, well I noticed he was a little damp right after he arrived, so I changed him then. But then during morning snack time he completely soaked that first back up pair of undies as well as his clothes…” “Yeah, as in wet up to his armpits…” “Nope. He definitely didn’t. He knows the rules about telling me, but I think he was just too busy with his snack to put his hand up, so I’m not too worried about it…” “Well we can chat about that when you come to pick him up…” “No, he seems fine. I think he’s completely zoned out right now. He’s actually sitting on the floor, putting a car in his mouth. In fact, hold on just a sec:” Mike, sweetie - get that out of your mouth. It’s yucky. You’re not a baby. “Sorry - where were we?…” “No. You don’t need to do that. If he has another accident, I’ll just put one of his naptime diapers on him and he can spend some time helping Miss Julie in the toddler room until it’s time for pickup…” “ Sandra? Did I lose you again?…” “OK, good. Look, that’s actually not the reason I’m calling. Or at least not the main reason. I’m calling because I wanted to let you know that I think he REMEMBERS…” “Yes - as in before before…Before he was a little. I think he remembers ME.” To be concluded…
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