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“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!

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.

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.

Hii im Rebecca 29 yrs im hoping to one day find a Mommy who will take care of me as her own

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.

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!

"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.

“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!

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!

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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."

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?

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.

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…

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.

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.”

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...

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.

Part 1 I had been working at a small company for a couple of years, my first real job out of college. I was naive, and made a few mistakes along the way, but had also made some good impressions with my boss, Mary. She seemed to value my work and my potential, and had started to act like a bit of a mentor. As VP of Operations, Mary certainly didn’t tolerate any nonsense, but she was also compassionate and supportive. A recent empty-nester (and longtime divorcée), it was clear she had a strong maternal side - firm, but caring. Mary was also easy on the eyes. She had a full, hourglass figure, dark hair and blue eyes. She was a smart dresser, professional but sexy in an authoritative way. There was no question she was the boss. As a horny, rather inexperienced 23-year old with a penchant for take-charge women, I was a bit smitten. I was, of course, always professional, but welcomed every opportunity to interact with Mary, and eagerly accepted her guidance. Over time, I eventually developed a fantasy of being privately scolded by her for making some mistake, then pulled over her lap for a solid spanking. The fantasy evolved, but always remained just a wild fantasy, until… I had been assigned to help on a proposal for a new client. It was a months long effort, but had the potential to be huge new business for the company. It was a stretch opportunity for me, and I was eager to show Mary I was up to the task. The deadline finally came to submit the proposal and we were editing down to the wire. Working well into the evening, eventually no one was left in the office but Mary and me. Finally finished with every last detail, I clicked submit on the online document repository, then got a prompt: “Documents loading … approximately 2 hours to full upload.” “Aww dammit!” I let my frustrations out. It was already after 9 pm! I’d be lucky to make it home by midnight. Suddenly Mary popped in my office. “Everything okay?” she asked. “Oh, yeah, sorry,” I blushed a bit. “The documents are loading, but it says it will take two hours before they’re fully received.” “Ah, bummer - all that work, now hurry up and wait…” she replied. “I don’t mind staying to wait for it to finish, you can head home,” I offered, trying to score some brownie points. “That’s ok,” Mary said. “How about I wait with you? I think there’s some wine leftover from the event last week, I’ll go dig it out. We should celebrate anyway, your first big client proposal!” She disappeared around the corner. My stomach fluttered. One on one time with Mary, after hours, with wine…! The evening was shaping up. Mary came back to my office and poured the wine. As she leaned over my desk to check the upload progress, I got a nice view down her blouse at her big tits. “Ugh, 1 hour 55 minutes,” she read, taking a big slug from her wine glass. “We’d better drink up.” She winked at me, and I followed her lead, taking a nice long gulp from my glass. Taking a seat in an empty chair across the office, Mary started in with small talk. The more we drank, the more we laughed. Eventually, the conversation came around to my first few weeks on the job. “Oh my,” Mary commented, “you were so fresh faced and eager, but a little clueless,” she giggled. “Sometimes I felt more like your babysitter than your boss!” I nearly choked on my wine, but managed to hold it together. I could feel myself blushing. I feigned indignation. “Oh what do you mean?? I could handle myself!” I said, laughing nervously. “Oh please. I had to constantly clean up your messes. Remember what you blurted out at that client meeting in your first week? You’d have been better off with a pacifier stuffed in your mouth!” she erupted in laughter. I could feel my face flush deep crimson. Mary stopped laughing and suddenly looked slightly concerned that she had crossed a line in her teasing. For my part, even though she had embarrassed me a bit, I desperately wanted to egg her on. I quickly took a gulp of liquid courage. “Ok, ok yeah that one was pretty dumb on my part,” I said, “but I wasn’t THAT bad. I mean, it’s not like you ever had to punish me!” I giggled. Mary raised an eyebrow. She seemed to study me for a moment, then slowly sipped her wine. “Well maybe I should have…” she said. Her words hung in the air. I let out a nervous giggle, anticipating what might come next. She stared at me intently, a half smile starting to curl on one side of her mouth. Her red lipstick glistening, her blue eyes seeming to pierce right through me. I reached for my wine glass and clumsily knocked it over, spilling across my desk. Mary gasped and jumped up. Grabbing some tissues, she started to mop up the wine from the desk top. “What did I say? Always cleaning up your messes,” she chided. “Next time I’ll have to remember to bring you a sippy cup.” I stood behind my desk feeling about two feet tall. Mary’s playful scolding was making me feel like a small child. And it was also turning me on. She finished wiping up the wine and tossed the tissues in the trash can. She leaned across my desk and checked my computer to see how long the upload still had. I again took the opportunity to ogle her voluptuous rack. “Ahem..” Mary cleared her throat. I snapped my gaze away from her tits to see she was staring me dead in the eyes. “About 35 minutes still…” “Now then, before you went ahead and proved my point about you needing someone to clean up after you, we were discussing the matter of your punishment. Or rather, lack thereof.” My mouth went dry. I was in a daze. Could I really be on the cusp of realizing my fantasy? Mary’s voice cut through, sharp and firm. “How long has it been since you were last spanked?” I smiled reflexively and nervously. My mouth was still too dry to speak, my brain too stunned to form words. I gaped back at her silently. “Well? Come on now… when was the last time someone pulled down your pants and put you across their knee for a good spanking??” she pressed. “I… um… well I guess… never really,” I stammered rather meekly. Sitting back in her chair she stared back at me. “Never???” she repeated incredulously. “Yeah, I mean, my parents didn’t really believe in that.” “My, my,” Mary shook her head. “And you never had a girlfriend give you a good smacked bottom?” she pried, a thin smile growing on her lips. I shook my head no. I had never worked up the courage to share my fantasies with anyone I had dated this far. By now, my cock was raging hard, bulging beneath my pants. I could hardly believe what was happening. “Well I think it’s time we fix that. I believe strongly that you’re never too old for a trip over the knee. And there’s no time like the present. Come on over here young man.” As if on a conveyor belt, I glided across the room to where she sat. Mary took my hands and directed me to her right side. Then with a quick tug she had me sprawled across her ample lap, face down with my butt skyward and exposed. “Since this is your first ever spanking, I’ll allow you to keep your pants up. But I’m warning you, if we have to repeat this any time soon, it will be on you bare little bottom. Understood?” Somehow I managed to squeak, “yes ma’am.” My cock pressed through my thin dress pants and into Mary’s thighs. Squeezing her legs together and acknowledging my bulging manhood, she commented, “It seems like someone is enjoying himself… let’s see how long that lasts.” CRACK! Her hand fell firm right in the middle of my cheeks. SMACK SMACK! She gave a few good hard slaps, the paused and rubbed my ass all over. My dick throbbed with anticipation, and worked its way deeper between her legs. Another volley landed, SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK!! The sting was real, but it felt strangely good, and made me buck and shift, rubbing my cock back and forth across Mary’s legs. My pleasure and anticipation grew as Mary alternated spanking and caressing my butt. “This is what happens… SMACK… to little boys …SMACK… who make big… SMACK… messes… SMACK… for their mommies… SMACK… to clean up …SMACK SMACK SMACK!” The scolding made my cock even stiffer. She began rubbing again. “That’s what you need, isn’t it?? A mommy to look after you. Clean you up when you make a mess. And… SMACK!! … spank… SMACK … your little … SMACK … bottom … SMACK … when you misbehave.” The barrage of spanks that followed were too much. As Mary spanked, my cock rubbed harder and faster against her thigh. The pressure became too much, and I spurted a hot puddle of cum into my underwear, groaning deeply as I did. Mary finished with a flurry across my backside, just as I finished blowing my load. She rubbed my butt for a minute while I caught my breath. “Ok, stand up young man,” she instructed. Still in a fog from my orgasm, I complied. “Oh my, just look at your pants you naughty boy!” I looked down. My light gray slacks had a massive wet spot in the crotch. Mary clicked her tongue and tsk, tsked me. “I knew you needed looking after.” She picked up some tissues and dabbed at my wet pants. It did little to clean the mess, and left fuzz on my crotch, further accentuating the stain. “Well we can’t send you home on the bus in this state. You stay right here, there’s a Walgreens around the corner and they’ll have everything we need.” Mary stood and took my chin in her hand. Looking me squarely in the eye, she said, “You’re not quite done being punished young man. I saw you peaking down my shirt earlier.” I blushed again, and swallowed hard. I stammered “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to… you just leaned over and … I’m sorry.” “Yes I know you’re sorry,” she winked at me. “But you still need to be punished.” Guiding me by my hips, she shifted me back behind my desk. Checking the upload she noted “oh good, only ten more minutes.” She continued pushing me by the hips past the desk and toward the wall. “Stand here with your nose in the corner until I come back. I’ll only be a few minutes.” Propping me in the corner with three sharp smacks to my tingling bottom, she added, “Don’t even think about stepping out of there. I’ll know if you do. And you won’t like what will happen next.” A final hard whack to my rear, and she was out the door.

You stand alone in the cereal aisle of the grocery store pondering the health benefits of cocoa puffs versus cocoa crispies. The cacauphony of sunday afternoon shoppers in the background serve as tender white noise as the familiar pangs hit you. You bend down like your habit dictates and you relax whatever weak muscles stand in the way of your bodily functions. The warmth spreads across your crotch with the smile on your face. You sigh and arise to reassess the sugary dilemna. Just as you made a decision- WHAM! A loud thud reverberates throughout the once empty aisle as you turn to be greeted by a woman dressed in a green tank top and frayed dark blue jeans. She smiles at you before saying, "Sorry about that- sometimes I get too excited to pat a baby butt!" You blush, you've never seen this woman before in your life. "Why did you do that? That was so rude!" You uphold your stance. This was harassment. Assault of your butt at the very least. You could sue. You should sue! She leans over towards your ear, "Sorry- I just thought that the baby was too distracted by the feeling in their diapers to make a decision. or was I wrong?" She pulls back smirking, never breaking eye contact. You stand there stunned. Head empty, diaper full was supposed to be a bad meme. Yet here you are. Blushing, you respond, "How did you know? I mean, I feel like I'm being discreet" You are! Wearing a character shirt and baggy sweatpants, you are the definition of discreet. The FBI should recruit you for being able to hide in plain sight so well! Then you adjust yourself, hear the crinkle and blush. You and her share a knowing smile before she responds. "It also helps that you posted about coming here online. Don't worry im not a stalker or anything! I just walked by after reading that and connected the dots" You blush again, "Oh- so you uhh... You follow me on there? Thats crazy! So umm... you want an autograph or...?" She quickly says, "No- no I'm so sorry. I dont know what I wanted really. Just wanted to say hi I guess and maybe tease you a bit. But umm..oh.."she looks down. You follow her gaze to see that since you got up, a massive wet spot has cascaded down your thigh in two obvious lines. You blush all the more and move to be flat with the display, panicked. She sees your response and raises her hands towards you in a calm motion "Its okay" she says, "I brought some stuff with me in my car that I think can help out. Might be embarrassing for a bit- but not as embarrasaing or uncomfortable as... this" she gestures towards your whole self. "Go to the next section over at the pharmacy and wait for me in the family restroom there. Ill meet you there. Ill knock three times in a row so you know its me okay? Now hurry! I'll be right there!" She ran towards the stores entrance and you...did as she asked. Too stressed to do anything else. You panicked when you saw the family restroom was occupied. Though thankfully it was in an alcove that gave you a neccesary space to hide your shame as you waited. Moments later a woman exited holding her child's hand. "You did so good in there miranda! Soon you wont need those pull ups at all! You're getting to be such a big girl!" The woman announced excitedly. Thankfully they both left quickly paying you no heed as you managed to vulture the restroom from them. You waited anxiously for the woman to arrive as promised. Though the time was more likely just a few minutes it felt like an eternity. Feelings of stress, hopelessness, and abandonment riled through you as you paced in the restroom. Finally, three promised knocks! Without hesitation, you opened the door for the woman from earlier as she barged into the restroom. She locked the door behind her when you noticed what was strewn across her arm. A fresh horror set in as your face become redder than the ripest tomatoes in produce. It was a diaper bag. A very large, very obvious, diaper bag. It was pastel blue and decorated with winnie the pooh characters, wipes and powder could even be seen sticking out of the top of it. She turned around, took out a blanket and placed it on the floor, "lay down" she ordered. "What? But-" You interjectef. "No buts! Except for yours. On the ground. Understood? Or do you not want my help and feel up to walking out of here with everyone seeing you walk out of here in an obviously leaky diaper? This is the sunday crowd. You saw all those people right?" You nod silently, and relent. There was really no other option it would seem. So you laid down on the blanket. It was warm, and soft. A contrast to the cold tile in the rest of the family restroom. "...Okay I guess I can take your pants off for you" You move to do it for her, but by then your pants are already half removed and your leaky diaper is exposed. So there you are. In the family bathroom of a major grocery store, about to have your diapers changed by a complete stranger. The BABY pattern felt appropriate. You blush throughout the entire change. She even calls out seeing you start to get excited by the situation. But after some more teasing and fussing, youre in a clean diaper again. You stand up, only for recall your sweatpants are unwearable. "In ya go!" She cheerfully announced. You look to see that the woman already has a replacement lined up for you. Denim shortalls. While these arent absurdly babyish, they were far outside your normal comfort zone. You look at her, unsure. "What-did you bring something better? This is all ive got little one!" You blush and step inside of them. The woman disposes of your used diaper and you both step outside together. She goes to hold your hand, "Cant have you run away with my clothes now can I? Lets finish each others hopping and then we can get everything else figured out!" You blush and nod. Too embarrassed to think of putting up any argument. You both finish your shopping. At the end you go to her car to load her groceries. She hands you her reciept with her phone number on it, "You were very well behaved in there for me. Keep the clothes" You blush, say thanks and wave her goodbye. Later, you text her and her first response is, "Surprised that u didnt just ask me 2 buy u sum new pants or something from the clothing section. I guess you really are a baby- couldnt go 10 minutes w/o a diaper huh?" You blush and smile to yourself.

I had inspiration for a one-off today, so I wrote it. Enjoy. __________________ The Talk Honey, could you come downstairs please? We need to talk … You’re not in trouble, but we need to have a little chat. There you are. Come sit next to me. Did I tell you you’re looking handsome today? Cuz you are. O, don’t roll your eyes at me. I know you’re perpetually embarrassed by your stepmom, but you’re eighteen, a little old to still be blushing every time I give you a compliment. Here’s another compliment: I’m proud of you. You’re doing so well at school, and you’re adjusting so well. You even followed the no-pants at home rule without my even reminding you today. I know it’s silly to you, but it really helps me keep an eye on your diapers. Speaking of, lemme check … Just as I thought, damp but you don’t need a change. And clean too. And don’t go making your pouty face. I can see when you’re wet and I can usually smell when you’re messy, but I can’t always tell if you’re wet enough to need changed, and sometimes you have those small poopy accidents, and I can’t tell if you passed gas or just made a very small mess, or if you’re about to make a much bigger mess in your diaper. That’s why sometimes when you’re poopy you have to wait for a change, so I can make sure you’re all done. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about how you’re doing such a good job adjusting to being back in diapers. Remember when I first put you back in diapers, how hard you cried? I didn’t cry because I wanted to be brave for you, but I was crying on the inside because when you’re not happy, I’m not happy. That’s what it’s like being a mom, even a stepmom and even when her baby is eighteen. You cried so hard I thought my heart would break for you. And then the tantrums, o my gosh. All that yelling about how you don’t need diapers and your accidents weren’t that bad and how you’re a grownup and can make your own choices. But you never stopped me from changing your pampers or ever took them off on your own, and that told me you knew deep down you need your diapers and that I’d made the right choice by not giving you a choice. I’m just so glad you stopped having those tantrums before I had to spank your bottom. It's been almost two years since your last spanking. You hated it so much then and went on and on about how you were too old for it. Remember how you would argue you were too big even when you were over my lap, and you’d keep arguing right up until the first spank? Then the sniffling and the tears. I didn’t like spanking your bottom then, and I didn’t want to have to start doing it again. Imagine how you’d feel thinking your spanking days were behind you and then getting turned over my knee, having your wet diaper pulled down, and having your stepmom spank your bare fanny until you were a sniffling, crying mess with your feet kicking and your nose running just like when you were little. Just imagine yourself as technically an adult, coming off your stepmommy’s lap holding your little red bottom and doing the spanky dance from foot to foot with your privates on display but too worried about your sore bottom to even think to be modest. Don’t think it can’t still happen by the way, but I hope your spanking days are over just like you do. Imagine how your diapers would hold in the heat of your spanking. With how often you’re wetting, I wouldn’t even be able to put you in the corner bare bottom anymore. I’d have to diaper you again right away and it would keep your poor bottom so warm, and anybody visiting would be able to see your spanked red thighs peeking out from under your diaper, as if you in the corner sniffling and with those big tear streaks on your face wouldn’t tell them you’d just gotten off stepmommy’s lap. Anyway, I’m so glad just the threat of a spanking, and a few warning swats to your bottom, were enough to put a stop to those tantrums. I think you’d pee all over me during your spankings, but more importantly, I never liked having to spank your bottom no matter how naughty your choices were. We’re both lucky those few spanks I gave you when you were legs up on the changing table finally got through: let stepmommy do what’s best for you, put you back into diapers, or you’d be in for one heckuva trip over my knee for a bare bottom spanking with my hand and hairbrush. But phew! No need for that kind of discipline, and you’re doing so well adjusting not just at home but at school. Remember your first week back at school in diapers? That very first day, we went to the nurse’s office to drop off your diapers and changing supplies. You were so upset because the diapers wouldn’t fit in any bag we had, and you had to carry the two packages through the hallways. If I was embarrassed for you to be back in diapers, I can only imagine how you must’ve felt walking past all your schoolmates and teachers. Nurse Jenny was very nice about it all. She wanted you back in diapers two years ago because of your accidents, but I kept saying you’d get past it, that the doctors would figure it out and I didn’t want to hurt your self-esteem by putting you back in pampers like I was giving up on you ever using the potty again. Nurse Jenny tried to tell me how much worse for your self-esteem it must be having accidents in your pants that everyone could see, but I thought I knew best. Three outfits a day you were going through before we tried pull-ups, and those were so leaky you were still coming home in different pants than I sent you to school in. And socks, and sometimes even shoes. Remember how icky it felt when your weewee accidents would run down your legs into your shoes? Poor little lamb. It was your stinky accidents that changed my mind. I tried to tell myself they were one-offs, but Nurse Jenny was adamant. I still didn’t believe it, and I felt sorry for her having to help you clean up after those times you messed your goodnites, but I thought I was doing what was best for you. Even if, as you and I learned too many times, goodnites just aren’t made to hold the kinds of accidents a big kid – sorry, young adult – like you can have in them. Dirty pull-ups, dirty pants … Let’s face it: dirty diapers are much better, if we’re grading on a curve. Cleanup on someone your size isn’t easy, heaven knows, but much easier to clean up your dirty diapers. At least everything usually stays in your diaper. Blowouts happen – heaven and everyone else shopping at Walmart that day knows that too – but more stinky accidents than not were blowouts when you were having them in your goodnites. It was almost as bad as when you browning your tighty whiteys twice a day. Bottoming out your huggies is, well, not convenient, but more convenient, don’t you think? Of you course you do. And hasn’t Nurse Jenny been so nice? She didn’t get cross when you disobeyed her and she had to go pull you out of class to change your diaper even though you knew to go to her when you needed changed. Remember what the three of us talked about? … That’s right: your diapers can’t help you if you don’t get them changed. They’re not any better than your tighty whiteys if you sit in class until they’re sopping wet cuz you're afraid someone will wonder why you’re leaving class and don’t need to ask permission, or if they hear your crinkling or see you waddling. You’ve even learned to walk in your diapers with barely any waddling at all unless they’re soaked or full. You don’t even cry anymore when you need to go see Nurse Jenny. Yes, she told me about how you’d shown up at her office door sniffling those first few days, wearing such a sad frown almost pleading to get you into something dry and clean. And I know you don’t like the way she baby talks to you during your diaper changes, but if it helps her get through a yucky job, more power to her. Besides, she sent me a video of one of your changes like I asked her to, and I don’t think her baby talk was over the top or too embarrassing. You are a much tush huggy fudger at least twice and usually three times a day. There’s no use denying it, and you may have been pouting in that video and trying to look all grumpy and grown up, but I saw how you giggled and squirmed when she tickled your sides and blew that great big raspberry on your tummy. No use denying that you liked it. That’s why I started doing it at home. You can’t hide the little squees and smiles you make when I tickle your tummy any more than you can hide what you do in your diapers. And isn’t baby talk better than awkward silence like you have something to be ashamed of? Because you don’t. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You can’t help your accidents. That’s why you’re back in diapers, like a toddler who could be potty trained but for whatever reason isn’t it, except you’re an adult. And that’s okay, and you now that now, and I’m proud. And you’re doing so well socially. I know it was hard at first, but it did take longer for word to get around that you were back in diapers. You said it would happen by lunch time that first day, but it took the whole day … Yes, that is a meaningful difference. Trust me, I know these things. That’s why I’m the stepmommy. A few people saw you carrying them into school, but I suspect a lot of people thought that was just a rumor when word started to get around. Then you had that leak in class when you didn’t go to Nurse Jenny. Most of your classmates thought it was just another one of your accidents, and they were used to those. I bet the girls who babysit must’ve recognized those two half-moons on your cheeks as a leaky diaper. Nothing else leaves wet spots like those except huggies that just can’t hold anymore, but they didn’t know for sure. But it wasn’t until gym … Don’t make that grumpy face with me. We’ve been over this. I know the school would have excused you from gym, but you need the exercise, and if you have to take gym, you have to change for it. It’s not my fault there’s nowhere private for you to change for gym. Anyway, it wasn’t until gym that the rumors were confirmed. Remember how upset you were? I had to come up to school just to calm you down, sitting in the coach’s office until you stopped crying. My boss wasn’t happy – so much missed work leaving work to bring you fresh clothes, but when I explained our new solution, she agreed anything I needed to do to get you used to your new “underpants” would make me a better, more productive worker in the long term … I’m not verbally putting quotations marks around “underpants” when I refer to your diapers as “underpants.” You always say I do that, and I don’t have any idea what you mean. Anyway, when your new “underpants,” became common knowledge, and you had a good cry with me about how embarrassing it was and how it was even more embarrassing that everyone knew you were in coach’s office crying with your stepmom cuz everyone saw your new “underpants” and you felt like such a baby, I said it would al turn out okay, and I was right, wasn’t I? Of course I was. I know there are bullies who still tease you, but almost everyone in the whole school knew about your accidents already. So many accidents – big ones, small ones, wet ones, stinky ones – it was common knowledge you had them. I’d be at the beauty parlor and one of the other women would be talking about how their teen said one of their peers had a big accident in their pants at school, and I’d blush just like you are right now and not say a word when all the women agreed someone who has those kinds of accidents should be back in diapers even if they are eighteen. It seemed like most of the town knew someone who knew someone who had seen or heard about your problem, and it’s not like we live in a small town. I’m just sorry that it seems like everyone knew you needed to be back in diapers before I was ready to admit it to myself. But other than the bullies, you’d had so many accidents and so many destroyed pull-ups that most of your classmates didn’t even make fun when they found out you were wearing diapers at school. They knew you needed diapers even before I did. Remember what they used to say? “Ew, gross, they should be in diapers.” I know most of them were teasing, but they had a point. And I’m sure it doesn’t bother them that you aren’t leaving puddles in the classroom or interrupting class. No more “Mrs. So-and-so? It happened again,” and the teacher had to ask if you had an accident in your pants again, and you’d deny it right to their faces until they made you stand up and then sent you to Nurse Jenny, and then the custodian having to come in and clean up if it got everywhere. I don’t know if you know this, but in the other sections, no one would sit in the same chair as you. And as smelly as your poopy diapers can be, they’re still better than poopy pants. Your social life actually improved when I put you back in diapers. You're not eating lunch alone anymore cuz people aren’t afraid you’ll pee on them if they’re sitting next to you. Isn’t it nice eating with your classmates? And I bet you like the attention you’re getting from the girls in your class. It’s not exactly romantic attention, like we talked about when you thought maybe that one girl liked you. It’s more like they think of you as their younger sibling. That’s why it’s the girls who’ve stood up to the bullies for you more than the boys, though plenty of boys have stuck up for you too. Isn’t that nice of them, telling the bullies to mind their own business and that you can’t help it if you still need diapers because your dirty your undies and isn’t that better than what it was like sharing a classroom with you before? That sure did shut up the bullies; well, most of them. You don’t even come home crying anymore. I’m so proud of you for that. You can even play sports again if you want. I know you worry about waddling on the field or going two hours without a change, but we can double-diaper you like we do for car rides, movies, church, going out to eat, shopping, the park, and the beach. I know everybody can tell you’re wearing diapers when you’re doubled up, but isn’t that just proof that no one will make fun? If they all know and no one – well, almost no one – points or laughs or teases, that just proves most people will be nice about it. You even went to a party, and I know how brave of you it was to do that. We’re lucky to have a neighbor like Samantha, and luckier that she’s in your class. Isn’t it nice to have someone you’ve known your whole like come hang out with you when mom and I have a date night? … What? She’s not your babysitter, sweetie, we’ve talked about that many times. She’s just a friend who comes over to spend time with you when we’re not around. Really. I know it’s embarrassing for you when she changes your diaper, but it’s embarrassing for her too, not to mention yucky. It’s been so nice of her to take you places too, like that party. When I was your age, disappearing into a bedroom at a party would start all kinds of rumors; I know she was worried about that because the two of us talked about it, but I assured her everyone would know she was just helping you change your pampers, and I was right. People would’ve assumed that even if I didn’t tell her to leave your soaked diaper at the top of the trash in the kitchen just to be sure. Everybody already knows you wear diapers. Isn’t it better for people to know you were just getting your diaper changed and not that have any confusion or rumors that you had intercourse with her? You don’t want a reputation for being easy or loose or “scoring” with women, do you?. Neither does Samantha. She told me the last thing she wanted was for people to think the two of you were having sex or, worse, that you’re dating. It’s so wonderful to have a good, virtuous girl who thinks not only of her own reputation but yours as well for a friend, isn’t it? I know you have your urges, of course, which are perfectly natural. You can’t help those any more than you can help everything else to do with your diaper area. We don’t have to talk about birds and bees you’re not ready, but just know that when you’re read to discuss love and relations, I’m here for you. I just hope it’s before you leave for college. In the meantime, it’s best if we both just keep pretending you don’t do anything in your diapers except pee and poop yourself. I spoke with Pastor Sarah, and she agrees some things are better left undiscussed. She was so eager to have that conversation over; “Please, let’s just stop talking about it and pretend this never happened,” she said. She really lives by her word, as a pastor should. And she was so wonderful in organizing that fundraiser so the men’s bible study group could you build you a changing table in the mother’s room for when you pack your pampers during services. The acoustics really are something in there, aren’t they? So anyway, I just wanted to say how proud I am of you. I know it’s been hard, and I know the future can be scary sometimes, but you’re doing so good. It’s so hard being eighteen and ready to be a grownup but still needing diapers, but I really do believe the further you get into adulthood, the easier wearing diapers will be for you, if only because you’ll get even more used to it than you’ve already gotten. It’s so much easier already and it’s only been a month, right? What a month! And you have so many people who will help you. Such a loving community. And you know you can always come to me for anything. I love you, and I always will. You’ll be stepmommy’s little diaper butt no matter how old you get. Awww, there you go blushing again. Gimme a hug, and then let’s go get your pants changed. If I’m not mistaken – and I’m definitely, definitely not – you’ve been filling your diaper this whole time. March your butt straight to the changing table, stinky pants, and we’ll get you clean and dry and happy in no time. Well, about twenty minutes judging by your waddle, but we’re getting faster at it every day, handsome. Scoot!

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.