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Welcome to "Winter Break on Wet Alert" – A Ski Trip with No Emergency Brake A ski holiday in St. Anton with the family's best friends should be a dream come true. Especially when you are 17, finally allowed to drink wine with the adults, and the girl you've been in love with since kindergarten is sleeping in the loft right next to you. It is the recipe for the perfect "coming-of-age" romance. But for Liam, it is the recipe for a social nightmare. He is fighting a secret that doesn't fit into the cool after-ski lifestyle: A body that fails him, and a bladder that lives a life of its own at night. What starts as a practical challenge involving discreet night diapers hidden in a gym bag, quickly spirals into an avalanche of control, lies, and humiliating revelations as the facade begins to crack. This is more than a story about an accident, I try to make it a "slow-burn" psychological thriller about power, helplessness, and the desperate struggle to maintain one's dignity while slowly being wrapped in cotton wool – and plastic. Meet the Families: Liam (17): The protagonist of the story. He is a typical teenager attempting to navigate the awkwardness of a family vacation while trying to appear independent and cool. He often hides inside his hoodie or behind a beanie and is currently balancing the tension of sharing a cabin with Mathilde, whom he has known since childhood and has secretly had a crush on since he was twelve. Sophie (17): The childhood friend Liam has secretly been in love with since he was twelve. She has grown from a playmate into a stunning young woman with messy blonde hair, often seen wearing oversized wool sweaters that make her look effortlessly cool. She shares the open loft space with Liam, sleeping on the mattress just a few feet away. Grace: Liam’s mother. She runs the family—and the vacation packing—with efficiency and a calm, controlled voice that leaves very little room for discussion. She is organized, persistent, and keeps a sharp eye on the logistics of the trip to ensure everything goes according to plan. James: Liam’s father. He is a somewhat conflict-avoidant man who prefers focusing on the skiing conditions or staring into his coffee cup rather than dealing with tension. He generally steps back and leaves the hard decisions and organization to Hanne. Claire: Sophie’s mother. She is practical, cheerful, and deeply involved in the domestic side of the cabin life, often found stirring a pot of stew or knitting in the sofa corner with Hanne. She has a direct, practical manner and treats all the "kids" with equal familiarity. Rob: Sophie’s father and the loud, wine-loving patriarch of the host family. He dominates the room with boisterous laughter and "alpha" energy, often walking around in boxers and a t-shirt in the mornings. He treats Liam with a mix of loud camaraderie and fatherly teasing. The Format: The story is planned as a long serial of approximately 50-60 chapters. Although the plot only spans a single, intense week in Austria, we get up close and personal. Every chapter dives deep into the details, the dialogue, and the small, claustrophobic moments where the balance of power tips. Expect a pace that allows room for both the romantic tension and the creeping horror of losing control over your own life. Sit back, put on a dry diaper (just for safety's sake), and enjoy the ride down the black slope. Prologue is coming up... __________________________________ Prologue: War Council at the Dining Table The sound of a zip being pulled up cut through the silence in the living room like a tear in the fabric. It was a sharp, metallic sound signalling an end, but for Liam, it sounded like the beginning of the end. The large black Nike holdall stood open on the dining table. Surrounding it were piles of wool jumpers, ski socks, and thermal long johns in neat stacks. But it wasn’t the clothes that caught the eye. It was the package lying isolated next to the bag. A square, soft package in dark blue plastic with the words DryNites printed across the front and a picture of a cartoon skater boy who looked far too cool to represent the contents. "We have to be realistic, Liam," said Grace. Her voice was calm, controlled—the voice she used when presenting unpleasant facts that were not up for discussion. She stood at the end of the table with her arms crossed, her gaze resting heavily on the package. "We can’t take the waterproof sheet. It’s out of the question." Liam sat on the chair opposite. He rocked on the back legs, a nervous tic he couldn’t stop. He had his hoodie pulled up around his ears, as if he could hide inside the fabric. "Why not?" he asked, hating how whiny his voice sounded. "That’s what we use at home. It works fine. I put it under the sheet, no one sees it." "At home, you sleep in your owace, taking a step forward. She placed her hand on the blue package. "We’ve been through this for four months now. Four months where the bed has been wet four out of seven days on average. You know the doctor said your body must be 'overloaded' and that you sleep so deeply the signal doesn’t get through. That’s fine. It’s a physiological condition. But we can’t ignore the statistics." She paused, and her gaze softened but became more insistent. "What is the scenario if we don’t take anything? What happens if you fall asleep after a long day of skiing, exhausted, maybe after a glass of wine, and then you wake up at three in the morning and the mattress is soaked? Right next to Sophie? What do you do then? Do you wake her? Do you carry the mattress down through the living room? How do you explain the smell in that small space?" Liam closed his eyes. The image was so clear and terrifying it made him nauseous. He saw Sophie waking up from the heat or the smell. He saw her face. "I’ll wake up," he said stubbornly, but without conviction. "I’ll set an alarm on my phone. Every three hours." "And wake up the whole chalet?" James shook his head. "That won’t work, Liam. Rob wakes up if a mouse farts in the basement. If your alarm goes off three times a night, it’ll be a holiday in hell for everyone." "Therefore," said Grace, sliding the package of DryNites across the tabletop towards him. "This is the only solution. It’s discreet. They’re silent under pyjamas. And they guarantee that the mattress—and your dignity—survives if an accident happens." Liam looked at the package as if it were radioactive. "I can’t wear them, Mum," he whispered. "Not up there. She’s lying right next to me. Imagine if she sees them? They’re... they’re night pants for kids, it’s a fucking diaper!" "It’s protection for young men who have a temporary problem," Grace corrected. "And we’ve practised this. We pack them. Right at the bottom of the bag. You put it on under the duvet when the lights are out. Or in the bathroom, if you can sneak out there. I really want to help you, you know? It requires planning, I know that. But the alternative is Russian roulette with a full bladder." Liam felt a familiar anger bubbling in his stomach. Anger at his own body. It had started in the autumn. First just once after a party. Then again. And suddenly it had become a thing. A secret that required washing machines running at night and strange, clinical conversations with a doctor who just talked about "immature nervous systems" and "deep REM sleep". They had tried fluid restrictions after 6 PM. They had tried voiding schedules. Nothing helped once he was asleep. And now this defective body had to go on holiday with the girl he had been in love with since they were in kindergarten. "I’ll take them," he said quietly, grabbing the package. He squeezed it hard, making the plastic yield. "But I’ll only put them on if I feel it’s absolutely necessary. If I’ve had a lot to drink. Or if I’m really tired." Grace and James exchanged a look. One of those parental looks that communicate volumes of worry in a split second. "Liam," said Grace gently. "The deal is that you wear them every night. We can’t take the chance with someone else’s mattress." "I said I’ll take them!" Liam snapped, standing up so quickly the chair scraped against the floor. "I’m packing them. Right at the bottom. I’ll hide them in a towel so no one can see what they are. Is that not enough?" Grace hesitated. She assessed him. She could see the desperation in his eyes. She knew that if she pushed him any further now, he might refuse to go. "Fine," she said slowly. "You pack them. Well hidden. But then you promise me one thing: If you feel the slightest uncertainty... if you are in the slightest doubt... then you use them. for my sake. For your dad’s sake. We don’t want to be explaining to Rob and Claire why their chalet smells of pee." "I’ve got it under control," Liam lied. He took the package. He walked over to the bag. He lifted the stack of hoodies. He placed the blue package right at the bottom, into the corner. He found a dark towel and wrapped it tightly around it so it looked like a washbag or a pair of shoes. Then he put the wool jumpers on top. The salopettes. The thermal underwear. Layer upon layer of normality burying the shame. He zipped up the bag. The sound was final this time. "There," he said, lifting the bag. It was heavy. Heavier than it should be. "Now we’re ready." James cleared his throat and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "It’ll be a good trip, lad. You’ll see, the fresh air will do you good. Maybe the problem will disappear on its own up there." Liam nodded stiffly. He knew better. The problem wouldn’t disappear. It was packed at the bottom of his bag, and it would travel with him all the way to Austria, like a ticking time bomb under the seat. "I’m going to bed," he said. He walked out of the living room without looking back. Grace remained standing by the table, staring at the spot where the bag had stood. "Do you think he’ll wear them when we get there?" asked James quietly. "No," said Grace, turning off the light over the dining table. "Or well, I don’t know... He’s so proud. So I think I’ll have to check every morning while we’re there, and then we just have to hope he soon puts a cork in that night bladder." Chapter 1: The Winter Palace The car's tyres crunched heavily against the packed snow as they rolled the final stretch up the steep driveway. The engine was cut, and a sudden, deafening silence settled over the cabin. It was that particular, muffled tranquillity found only in the Austrian Alps, where the snow swallows every sound. Liam sat in the back seat, leaning his forehead against the cold glass. Outside, the world was bathed in the blue-violet light of twilight. The chalet ahead of them wasn’t just a cabin; it was a massive two-storey log structure with large panoramic windows, where yellow light was already spilling out, landing in soft squares on the snow. The Thompson family had already arrived. Their black Audi was parked next to them, and smoke rose lazily from the chimney. "Here we are, chaps," said his dad, James, tapping the steering wheel with a gloved hand. "St. Anton. The adventure begins." Liam felt a lurch in his stomach. It was a mixture of expectant joy and that underlying, cold knot he had carried around the entire journey. He adjusted his beanie in the rear-view mirror, checked that the stubble on his chin looked right, and took a deep breath. You are here to ski. You are here to have a good time. You are 17 years old. Relax. He opened the car door, and the freezing mountain air hit him in the face like a wet towel. It smelled of pine needles and frost. He stepped out and stretched his legs while the cold nipped at his cheeks. "Liam, are you grabbing your own bag?" shouted his mum, Grace, from the boot. She was already organising the unpacking with the military efficiency she was known for. "And mind your back, it looks heavy." Liam walked round to the boot. His large, black Nike holdall was wedged in behind crates of food supplies. He gripped the handle and hoisted it out. It was heavy. Not just because of the ski boots and thick jumpers, but because of what lay right at the bottom, wrapped in an opaque bag and rolled tightly inside a towel. His secret cargo. His safety net. He swung the bag over his shoulder and straightened his back. As long as the bag was zipped shut, he was just Liam. The door to the chalet opened, and the sound of voices and laughter streamed out into the cold. "Is that the lost travellers?" Sophie stood in the doorway. Liam's heart skipped a beat, as it always did when he saw her. She had grown even more beautiful since the summer holidays. She was wearing a large, white wool jumper that made her look small and cosy, paired with tight black leggings. Her blonde hair was gathered in a messy bun, and she held a wine glass in her hand—probably just elderflower cordial, but the way she held it made it look elegant. "Hey Sophie," Liam said, flashing his best, crooked smile as he walked up the steps to the veranda. He tried to walk casually, even though the strap dug into his shoulder. "We just took the scenic route. You have to enjoy the view, right?" Sophie rolled her eyes but smiled broadly. "Classic James tactics. Come inside, it’s freezing." She stepped aside, and Liam walked into the warmth. The chalet smelled of woodsmoke and red wine sauce. The adults were already in full swing, hugging and exchanging stories about the drive in the hallway. It was chaos in a good way. Boots were kicked off, coats hung up. Liam and Sophie stood a little on the outskirts of the commotion. "So," Sophie said, sizing him up. Her gaze was direct, curious. "Are you ready to be left in the dust tomorrow? I’ve heard the pistes are absolutely perfect this year." "Left in the dust?" Liam laughed huskily. "You’ll be lucky if you see anything other than the spray from my skis when I fly past you." "We’ll see," she said, nudging his shoulder lightly. The touch burned through his jacket. "But seriously, it’s going to be brilliant. The oldies have taken the rooms on the ground floor, so we have the entire top floor to ourselves. Or, well, the loft." "The loft?" Liam repeated. "Yeah, come on. I’ll show you." She turned and started walking up the steep wooden staircase leading to the upper floor. Liam followed, bag still over his shoulder. He didn't dare put it down yet. Not until he knew where he was sleeping. Not until he had secured the territory. The loft had a low ceiling and was incredibly cosy. Sloping walls of light timber, a small round window in the gable looking out over the valley, and thick rugs on the floor. But what caught Liam's attention were the sleeping arrangements. There were two wide mattresses on the floor. They lay at opposite ends of the room, separated by a small communal area with a low sofa and a table, but there were no doors. No walls. It was one large room. "I’ve taken the one by the window," Sophie said, hopping onto one of the mattresses, which was already made up with a duvet and pillows. Her bag stood open next to it, with clothes strewn about a bit. "So you can have the den over there." She pointed towards the mattress at the opposite end, nestled under the lowest part of the sloping roof. It was a cosy nook, but it also felt... exposed. "Fine," said Liam. He walked over to his mattress and set the bag down. He did it carefully, terrified that something might clink or rattle, even though there were only soft parcels inside. "It looks... cosy." "Doesn't it?" Sophie leaned back on her elbows and looked at him. "No parents. No big sisters. Just us." Liam nodded and started taking off his jacket. He could feel sweat trickling down his back. The heat from the wood-burning stove downstairs was rising to the ceiling. "Are you planning on standing there sweating in full gear, or are you going to unpack?" she asked teasingly. Liam hesitated. He looked at his bag. The zip was closed. He knew exactly where the package was. At the bottom. Under three hoodies and his thermal long johns. If he opened the bag now, while she lay there watching, would she be able to see it? No, it was wrapped up. But just the thought of moving things around while she observed him made his stomach turn. On the other hand, it would seem odd if he didn't unpack. They were staying here for a week. "I’ll unpack later," he said, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Right now, I just need to sit down. The drive was long." "Fair enough." Sophie stood up and walked over to the small window. "Come and have a look. You can see the lights from the après-ski bars over there." Liam stood up and walked over to her. They stood side by side, looking out into the darkness where the floodlit pistes glowed like golden scars on the mountainside. He could smell her perfume—vanilla and something fresh. She stood close to him. So close that their arms almost touched. "It’s going to be a good week, Liam," she said softly, without looking at him. "Yeah," he replied, daring to relax his shoulders a tiny bit for the first time. "It really is." From downstairs came the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. His mother’s voice cut through. "Liam! Sophie! There’s hot chocolate and scones if you’re hungry!" Sophie sighed theatrically but smiled. "Duty calls. Shall we go down and be social before they think we’re up to no good?" Liam smiled back. For a moment, everything felt normal. He was just a guy on a ski holiday with a cute girl. The bag lay on the bed behind him, zipped and safe. "After you," he said. Chapter 2: Adults in the Snow The smell of slow-cooked stew had spread throughout the chalet, mingling with the dry heat from the wood-burning stove. It was a heavy, spiced scent of beef, red wine, and juniper berries that Sophie’s mum, Claire, had left simmering in a pot for most of the afternoon before they arrived. Liam sat at the end of the long plank table. He had been given the seat next to Sophie. On the other side sat his dad, James, who was already flushed in the cheeks after two glasses of Amarone and the heat from the fire. "Cheers to the chalet!" James exclaimed, raising his glass. "And cheers to getting the roof box on without scratching the paintwork this year!" A cheerful laugh went around the table. Liam grabbed his own glass. There was red wine in it. It was one of those unspoken transitions; on previous holidays, he and Sophie had been given Coke while the adults drank wine. This year, they had just been poured a glass without question. A silent rite of passage. He was one of them now. He clinked glasses with Sophie. The glass made a clear, singing sound. "Cheers," she said, smiling over the rim of her glass. Her eyes caught the light from the candles on the table. "Do you think you can handle it? Amarone is heavy fuel for tomorrow." "I run better on premium unleaded," Liam replied cheekily and took a sip. The wine was heavy, warm, and slightly astringent in his mouth. He didn't actually like red wine all that much, but he loved the feeling of sitting here, glass in hand, being part of this. He took another sip, a slightly larger one this time. In the back of his mind, right at the back of his lizard brain, a small red warning light blinked. Fluid. Alcohol. Bedtime. He knew the rules. He knew he should be drinking water, and preferably stop drinking altogether now; it was past eight o'clock. But he couldn't sit here sipping tap water while Sophie teased him and the adults told tall tales. It would be checking out. It would be being a child. "Liam, pass the potatoes, would you?" asked Grace. Liam shook the thoughts away and passed the dish. His mum sat opposite him. She ate calmly, listening to Claire’s story about a colleague who had had a breakdown from stress, nodding sympathetically. She seemed completely normal. Not like a guard, not like an "inspector". Just a mum on holiday. But then he caught her eye as she took the dish. It was fleeting. She looked at his wine glass, then at him, and then back at her plate. She said nothing. She didn't raise an eyebrow. But Liam heard it anyway. Is that wise, Liam? He felt an urge to put the glass down, but defiance flared up in him. He wouldn't be controlled by her gaze. He wouldn't be the patient at this table. He demonstratively took a large bite of the meat and smiled at Sophie. "So, Sophie," said Rob, Sophie’s dad, leaning back. "Have you told Liam about your big plan?" Sophie blushed slightly—a becoming colour on her pale cheeks. "Dad, stop it." "What plan?" asked Liam curiously. "She wants to do a season next year," Rob rumbled proudly. "Austria. The whole winter. She’s been saving up for two years." Liam looked at her with new respect. "Seriously? That’s... actually pretty cool." "It’s just an idea," she said quickly, but he could see the glint in her eyes. "I thought... well, if I don’t know what I want to do after sixth form anyway, I might as well ski and make some money doing it." "Sounds like the dream," said Liam. And he meant it. But at the same time, a cold, heavy realisation hit him right in the solar plexus. A whole season in Austria? Sleeping in dorms, sharing rooms with strangers, drinking beer every night, no privacy? For Sophie, it was a dream. For him, it would be a logistical hell. An impossibility. He suddenly felt like a fraud. He sat here looking like someone who could go with her. Someone who fit into that dream. But beneath the surface, and at the bottom of that Nike bag up in the loft, reality lay waiting. "You could come too," Sophie said suddenly, nudging him under the table with her knee. "You’re good enough on skis. We could be instructor buddies." Liam laughed, but the laughter didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, definitely. That would be sick." "It just requires being able to get up early," Grace interjected. Her voice was mild, conversational. "And being able to fend for yourself. It’s hard work, you know. No 'room service' from Mum." It was an innocent comment to everyone else. A joke about teenagers who can't do laundry. But to Liam, it was a precise, surgical reminder. You can't fend for yourself. You need me. The mood shifted as the plates were cleared, and the board game Ludo was brought out. It was a tradition. Liam and Sophie against the dads. The mums preferred to sit on the sofa with a cup of tea (and more wine) and talk. The game was intense. Liam was good at the tactical side. He and Sophie had a natural rhythm; they understood each other without words, trading glances and blocking their fathers with delightful malice. "You’re evil, Liam!" shouted James as Liam knocked his piece home just before the finish line. "It’s called strategy, old man," Liam replied, giving Sophie a high-five. Her hand was warm and soft against his. It was nearing half-past eleven when the game finished (with a crushing victory for the youth). Fatigue began to set in within the chalet. The fire in the stove had burned down to embers. "Right, I give up," said Rob, stretching until his joints cracked. "I need to be fresh for the slopes. Night, kids. Night, darling." "Night," the group mumbled in chorus. There was that break-up atmosphere where people look for their phones and glasses need to go in the dishwasher. Liam stood up. The heat and the wine made him a little dizzy. Reality returned like a cold breath. Up in the loft, the bag still stood unopened. He hadn't set out his "safety net". He hadn't found a place to change. And Sophie was going up there. Right now. "I think I’ll head up too," said Sophie, rubbing her eyes. She looked sleepy and soft. "Are you brushing your teeth first, Liam, or shall I grab the bathroom?" Liam looked at his watch, then at the bathroom door, and then at his mum, who was busy blowing out the candles. If he let Sophie go to the bathroom first, he would be alone in the loft for maybe ten minutes. Ten minutes to open the bag, find the package, and... do what? Hide it under the pillow? Put it on? No, not up there. But if he took the bathroom first, he would have to take his things out there. What if she saw? "You just take it," he said quickly. "I just need to... I just need to find my charger in my bag first." "Cool. See you up there." She smiled, grabbed her washbag, and disappeared into the bathroom, humming. Liam was left standing in the living room. His mum blew out the last candle and turned to him. In the semi-darkness, her face was hard to read. "Liam," she said quietly. The others had gone into their rooms. They were alone. "You drank quite a lot at dinner." "It was two glasses, Mum. Relax." "And Coke," she added. "I’m just saying. You know what that means for the night. Have you got it under control? Do you want me to come up and help you get the 'bed ready' once Sophie is asleep?" The offer hung in the air. It was a lifebuoy, but it was made of lead. If he said yes, he accepted that she would creep around up there in the dark while he lay there like a child. If he said no, he was on his own with a bladder full of liquid and a bag full of secrets. "I’ll do it myself," he replied. "Okay, fair enough," said his mum, stroking his arm. "Sleep tight." Chapter 3: Under the Duvet Liam lay completely still. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but it didn't help much. The loft was a black box, broken only by the faint blue glow of the moon filtering through the small round window, tracing a square on the floor between the two mattresses. Three metres away lay Sophie. Her breathing had become heavy and regular. A faint, rhythmic sound that should have been soothing, but to Liam, it sounded like the countdown on a bomb. Every time she inhaled, he froze. Every time she exhaled, he relaxed a millimetre. He took a deep breath through his nose and gently lifted the duvet a fraction with his left hand to create a small tent. The air inside was warm and heavy with his own body heat. He grabbed the DryNites diaper that lay next to his pillow. The material felt foreign against his fingers. It was dry, papery, and thick. A sharp contrast to the soft cotton sheet. He squeezed it. It made a sound. Crr-rritch. The sound wave cut through the silence like a whip crack. Liam stiffened, his heart hammering against his ribs. He stared over at Sophie’s mattress. She stirred. An arm slid out from under her duvet, and she mumbled something unintelligible before turning onto her side. Facing him. Liam held his breath until his lungs burned. She slept on. Okay. Slowly. Ultra-slowly. He pushed the diaper down along his body, under the duvet, until it reached his hips. Now came the hardest part. The logistics. He was wearing jeans. Tight, black jeans. And because the diaper was a pull-up—a pair of "pyjama pants"—he had to have everything off from the waist down to put them on. He couldn't just pull his trousers down to his ankles; he needed his feet free. He bent his legs up under him so his knees pointed towards the ceiling and lifted the duvet. He grabbed the waistband of his jeans. The button was easy enough. The zip was the problem. He gripped the small metal tab of the zip with two fingers and began to pull it down, millimetre by millimetre. Zzz... Pause. Zzz... Pause. It felt like it took an hour. When the zip was finally down, he started wiggling his hips from side to side to shimmy the trousers down over his backside. The friction between the denim and the mattress made a dragging, whispering sound. He got the trousers down to his knees. Then to his ankles. Now he lay tangled in a knot of duvet, jeans, and his own legs. He needed to get his feet out of the trouser legs. He kicked gently with his right foot. His heel caught on the hem. He kicked again, a little harder. His foot broke free and hit the guard rail with a dull thud. "Mmm...?" The sound came from Sophie. Liam froze in an absurd position: One foot in the air, the other still trapped in his trousers, half-naked under the duvet, bathed in sweat. "Liam?" Her voice was thick with sleep, husky. "Yeah?" he whispered back. His voice cracked. "Are you okay? You’re making noise..." "Sorry," he whispered quickly. "I... I just turned over. Hit my foot. Go back to sleep." There was silence for five seconds. Five eternities. "Okay... night..." she mumbled, pulling the duvet up around her ears again. Liam lay completely still for two minutes while sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down into his eyes. He was so close to being exposed. If she turned on the light now... if she sat up to see what he was doing... He waited until her breathing became deep again. Then he finished the manoeuvre. He freed his left foot. He pushed the jeans all the way down to the foot of the bed with his toes. Then he pulled off his boxers. Now he lay naked under the duvet. Vulnerable. The warm air suddenly felt cold. He fumbled in the dark for the diaper. He found it. He opened it up, stuck his feet through the leg holes. And then he pulled up. The sensation was the worst part. The moment the soft, padded material slid up over his thighs and enclosed his groin. It was the feeling of defeat. It was the feeling of stepping out of the role of a 17-year-old guy and into the role of... something else. He pulled it all the way up over his hips. The elastic sides tightened around his waist. It sat high, much higher than his boxers. The thick, absorbent core pressed against his crotch and filled the space between his legs. It felt enormous. As if he had a cushion between his legs. He lay down again and stretched out his legs. Crinkle. Crunch. The sound came from him. From the diaper. Every time he moved his thighs against each other, the plastic outer layer made a faint, rustling sound. He lay stiff as a board. He was wearing the "armour" now. He was safe. If he wet himself in his sleep, the bed would remain dry. But the price was that he now lay next to the girl he was in love with, wearing a diaper. He rummaged around at the foot of the bed with his toes until he got hold of his boxers. He pulled them up over the diaper along with his pyjama bottoms and checked his phone before sliding it back under his pillow. He left the jeans in a pile at the bottom of the bed. He closed his eyes. Exhaustion was threatening to overpower him, but the awareness of the thick padding between his legs kept him awake. He was safe. But he wasn't free. He turned carefully onto his side, facing away from Sophie, and pulled the duvet all the way up over his ears to muffle the sound of crinkling plastic. Outside, the snow was still falling. Inside, Liam fell asleep to the sound of his own breathing and the feeling of being wrapped in secrets.

Anyone else wish they had someone that used your diaper as their toilet? Like them peeing down the back while you're wearing it. Or them untaping your diaper and messing in the front, before taping it back up. Or even them pre-using your diaper before you wear them. Imagine if every diaper you wear had someone else's mess in it already. This would be so hot~ ? Not only would you're diaper be twice as full, you'd be messy all the time!

Like many on here, I started out pooping in my underwear when I was young.

This is the first part of a story. It wasn't going to be multipart, but it got a bit out of hand. Next part coming once I've written it. If people like this enough for me to write the rest, I guess. You knew my history. I’d explained everything to you early on. How I’d woken up to a soaked bed every morning, and come home every night smelling of poop as I couldn’t get through a day without making a mess in my underwear - more than once most days. How every time someone told a joke I’d end up hiding the huge wet patch that I’d left on the seat and my clothes, and you knew how traumatic the hand-wringing and the chastising from my parents was. Nappies would have made things so much simpler and easier, but every time the suggestion came up, I’d argued and protested, and the subject was dropped. You knew how long that went on for. Daily accidents, and daily recriminations through to my teenage years. Better-hidden accidents, less major, less frequent, but still too obvious throughout the rest of my life. Concentration. Effort. Constant awareness all the time to stop me embarrassing myself. And the endless trips back and forth to the toilet, at the slightest urge. You knew about my kinks. You helped me put two and two together, and - to understand that having accidents in a ‘safe’ way was helping me to relive the memories without the recriminations, and without the unrelenting humiliation and trauma. To not have to stop doing fun things because I needed to hide what I’d done. And you helped me realise the accidents weren’t laziness, and weren’t because I wasn’t trying hard enough, but that they were caused by things that I just couldn’t control. It was your suggestion that I wear all the time. It had always felt to me like I was LARPing incontinence, but you told me to try for a few weeks, and after that I realised how much work I’d been putting in to avoid accidents, and what life was like for everyone else. No more constant worry, no more anxiety, no more trips to the toilet every 20 minutes, and so much less shame. That initial reluctance and my push-back against you fed into our power-play dynamic. That night when I came home, standing in the hallway, trying to hide to mess in my underwear and the stain on my butt. Your tone when you told me to turn round, and the comforting hug and help cleaning up. I definitely played into the brattiness that night when you tried to put my nappy on me. I wanted it, but admitting that felt wrong. There was no way I could let you put me in one without fighting back. I needed the spanking that night. Not just because I was a brat, but I desperately needed to feel some pain to allow myself to enjoy the pleasure I was receiving for doing something that I shouldn’t have done. And then there was the day after. Being woken up with you checking my wet nappy, and changing me into a clean one. My little protest that we were going out, and that I couldn’t wear a nappy, and you making it very clear that no matter whether I wanted to or not, I was going to be in one. I decided that I had to fight back a little there. So I made sure to have lots of milk with my cereal at breakfast, and lots of milk with my coffee. You’d made it clear I wasn’t to change myself, so you were going to have to take me back and forth to the toilet so I could poop. You’d soon get bored and just take the nappy off. We got on the train. Our day out in the city was something we’d both looked forward to, and it made sense to avoid driving in. That was going to play into my plan perfectly. Those toilets were so small that you’d give up right away, regardless of the big change bag you brought with you. I’d be free of the nappies right away. I felt my tummy rumble as soon as we got on the train, and whispered in your ear, “I think I need to poo”. Your response shocked me, “well poo then. I’ll change you when we get to a station.” No taking me to the toilet, no telling me to take my nappy off, not even a “hold on as long as you can”, just a simple instruction. The journey was going to take an hour, there was no way I wanted to stay stinky for that long. Definitely not in public. But there was also no way you’d let me do that. We’d end up getting off so you could change me as soon as you smelled me. I felt my tummy grumble and cramp again, and without even trying to help it along, I felt mess leak into my nappy. I sat there, completely still. The train wasn’t busy, but it wasn’t empty, and there were going to be more people getting on as we went along. I began to smell myself, and knew other people would smell me too. “I think a bit has leaked out” I whispered to you. Your seemed surprisingly casual, “I’m sorry Honey, but it’ll be a little while before I can do anything about it. Good job for telling me though.” It might have been what you said, it might have been the tone, but I saw red. Now I wanted you to feel like you had to do something, even if it meant I was going to humiliate myself in the process. The next time my tummy rumbled, I lifted myself up off the seat, perched on your lap, and gave a push. With a bubbling squelch I filled my nappy with stinky mess as I sat on you. I thought you’d be furious. Or at the very least, shocked. “Aw, do you feel a bit better now?” certainly wasn’t the response I expected. I stayed sitting on you, the hot mush in my pamper making me feel utterly humiliated, as you cuddled me. “It’s OK, Honey. It won’t be too long before we get to our station. Why don’t you close your eyes and try to dose for a bit”. I did as you told me. I tried to relax, tried to sleep, but the stink from my nappy kept wafting into my nose, and the movement of the train kept squishing the mush against my butt. I wanted to fall into a hole. All the while you seemed so calm. Like me having stinky pants wasn’t an issue at all. I felt the train slow as we came into the first station. I started to stand up, ready to get off, but felt your arms pull me tight. I couldn’t believe you’d let me stay like this all the way through the journey, but you didn’t relent. “Are we going to get off?” I asked. “No,” you said, a firm tone to your voice, “We can’t just drop what we’re doing every time you have an accident. That’s why you’re in a nappy. I’ll change you when we get to the station”. I blushed as you mentioned my nappy. It didn’t seem like anyone heard, but you made no effort to moderate your voice. Much like the accident itself, and the clothes you’d helped me pick out - which didn’t show the nappy off, but weren’t the usual baggy outfit I’d have picked, everything was just so matter of fact. I had accidents. I wore nappies. It didn’t affect anyone else, and we weren’t going to go out of our way to disguise it. I closed my eyes again and eventually managed to drift off to sleep. I woke up to you kissing my neck. “Time to get up” I heard in my ear. “I think you peed in your sleep. I felt your nappy get warm”. I blushed again, gently repositioning myself to allow me to stand up. I could feel my nappy bulging between my legs. I’d definitely not been this wet when I went to sleep. I waddled a little as you guided me off the train. The carriage and the platform were really busy, but in my drowsy state I wasn’t paying attention to everyone around me. Probably for the best, as at least a few people were probably staring at me, pinpointing me as the source of the smell. You ushered me towards the accessible toilet, reaching round and unbuttoning my jeans as soon as you closed the door behind us. I felt your hand on the back of my nappy, pulling it back. “You definitely needed to go” I heard you say, “do you think you’re all done?” I nodded my head. “Well, I’d like you to try to go a bit more for me anyway.” you said. I tried to protest, but it was a very half-hearted effort. I bent my legs a little and strained right there and then. No more mess, but the hissing noise betrayed me losing what was left in my bladder. “Good kitty” you said, as you caressed my back. Let’s get you changed. You reached into the change bag and pulled out my pacifier, slipping it into my mouth, then unzipped the fly of my jeans, tugging them down to my ankles. “Step out please” you said, and I slipped my socks off and stepped out of my jeans. “From the state of your nappy I think it’s going to be best if we take all your clothes off” you say. I catch a glance of the nappy in the mirror and you’re right. It’s destroyed, and there’s slight brown staining around the leg holes where it’s beginning to leak. “Arms up”. I do as you instruct, and feel you pull my top over my head. Standing in nothing but my destroyed nappy, I feel utterly helpless. You’re in charge now, I have no will of my own, and no control over anything to do with my accidents at all. I watch as you pull a bath towel and a disposable pad from the bag, and lay it on the floor. I know I should lie on it, but my mind is hazy. I wait for your instruction, shivering a little from the cool air on my skin. “Lie down please.” I do as I’m told, sitting first. I feel the mess that until now had been hanging between my legs squish to the front and back of my nappy, causing another waft of the stink to come out of my nappy. With my paci filling my mouth, and no clothing to mitigate it, the smell seemed far worse. As I lay down I feel the mush continue to push up the back of the nappy, seeping out the top. Without thinking, my hands come up to my face, as you bend down and begin the change. I feel your gloved hands gently stroking across the front of my nappy, and moving to the tapes. I know what’s about to happen, and I brace myself for it. You remove the top tapes. The smell gets worse. Then the bottom tapes. I feel the air hit my crotch as you pull the front of the nappy down. The smell is terrible now. I whimper behind my pacifier, utterly humiliated. Then I feel your hand on my face, your lips on my forehead, and hear your voice, “it’s OK, nothing to worry about. Your nappy held it all, and we’re getting you clean now”. My quivering lips ease into a smile, and I feel you take the front of my nappy and use it to clean a big chunk of the mess off my bottom. Then your hands lifting my feet up, raising my legs and bottom. “Can you grab your thighs for me please” you ask. I do as I’m told, then suckle on my paci as you use wet wipes to clean the pee and mess from my thighs and around the front, before moving down towards my bottom. The cool wipes feel wonderful, and the freshly wiped, clean skin feels so nice compared to the claminess of the pee and mess. You push my legs back a little further, and raise my butt up higher, pulling the nappy out from under me, then continue cleaning me, taking a big handful of wipes and cleaning my butt cheeks. I feel you go over the same area again and again, then move inwards. I barely feel the first wipe that touches my butt hole, because there’s so much mess, but as you clean it I begin to enjoy the sensation of the wipe on my sphincter. Caressing the tender skin. Cleaning it. Soothing it. Then slipping into my hole. I whimper again, this time from pleasure rather than humiliation. You penetrate me with the wipe again, twisting your finger around a little, and I writhe as I enjoy the sensation, suckling harder on my paci. You get a new wipe and make one more pass, once again penetrating my hole and twisting your finger around. Once again it makes me writhe from the pleasurable sensations. Then you stop. “Not now, baby kitty” you say, “I’m just getting you clean before we go and enjoy our day”. I sigh, and pout, but it falls on deaf ears. You lift my butt up and slip the clean nappy underneath my bottom, then powder my butt before you let it drop slowly onto the clean and dry padding. Then you take some rash cream and gently rub it in, taking care to cover the crevices and cracks, making sure my skin will be safe until my next change. A kiss on my belly as you close the nappy up, and the four tapes sealed shut, and I’m all clean and dry. For now. I sit up just as you’re rolling up my used nappy, and get a look at the entire packet of wipes that you’ve used to clean me up. I go a little shy and nervous, and watch as you take the heavy nappy, seal it in a nappy sack, then drop it in the bin. I stifled a giggle at the thudding noise it made as it hit the bottom. Then remembered I needed clothes. I raised my arms in the air waiting for you to help me put my shirt and jumper back on. You took the hint. In a few minutes I was dressed and ready to go. And now I wasn’t feeling quite so ashamed, I remembered I was trying to be a brat and get out of this silly nappy. Stepping out onto the concourse I was a little nervous. We’d been in the bathroom for a long time, but so many people had seen us go in, someone must still be around. I felt my cheeks flush with heat again, and reached for your hand. “It’s OK,” you said, a calm tone to your voice, “you’ve had an accident and had your nappy changed. That’s all. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Once again your matter of fact attitude put me at ease. The next step of the journey was largely uneventful. A short trip on an underground train. You led me across the station to the correct platform, and we waited for the train to arrive. When it did it was packed. You ushered me on first, and followed right behind, both of us squeezing into the packed carriage. I decided to have a little fun, and rubbed my padded butt against your body, trying to turn you on. It seemed only fair after what you’d done to me during my change. I smiled to myself as I did. Not that you’d see, given there hadn’t even been room for me to turn around. After a few moments you smelled something. At least you decided that you had. I heard your voice in my ear, a little too loud for how busy the train was, “Have you had an accident Honey? Something smells stinky”. I blushed hard and shook my head. Then I felt your hand on my butt. “I can’t really tell here. I’ll have to find somewhere to check you when we get off”. That put an end to my teasing you. A couple of stops down the line the carriage emptied out a little, and I was finally able to turn around and pout at you. Of course, with the delay, it didn’t really have he effect I was hoping for, but I knew why I was pouting at you, even if you thought I was just pulling a silly face. Three more stops and it was our turn to get off. You guided me onto the escalator in front of you, and as we went up I felt a tug on the back of my diaper. I decided to not turn around, to avoid drawing attention to what you were doing, but as we got to the top I gave you a look of disapproval. “It’s OK, Kittenface, you’re not stinky” you said, a cute smile on your stupid face. I wanted to pout, but I felt my nappy grow warmer as I peed. I hadn’t even realised I needed to go, and right in front of you, looking you in the eyes, I’d wet myself. “Straight to the aquarium?,” you said, “Or shall we get a drink first?” I don’t know if you hadn’t noticed, or were just trying to remind me that my accidents weren’t an issue, but your lack of reaction meant that all of a sudden I didn’t care that I’d wet myself. “Drink please” I said. You led me out of the station, and towards a bubble tea shop. As we got inside and I started looking at the menu, I realised that I was kind of hungry too. “Is there time for food?” I asked. “There’s time for anything you want,” you replied. “Then can I have a bubble waffle and ice cream?” The last time I asked for something like this, you wanted me that the milk in the ice cream might hurt my tummy. This time though, you just gave me a smile when you said, “of course”. I honestly wasn’t sure what had changed, but I liked this new you. You let me do what I wanted, and didn’t make me feel bad for it. I went and grabbed a table as you got our food and drinks. As I sat there waiting for you, I felt a little twinge in my bladder. It wasn’t strong, but I knew I needed to pee. So I did. There and then. Just as you arrived with our drinks and my bubble waffle. “I need to check to see if you need a change after this,” you said. I couldn’t tell whether you’d noticed my pee face, or just wanted to knock me off-balance again, but once again you momentarily set my brain to ‘smol’. I gave a nod, then began tucking into my waffle. “So, I’ve got a nice day planned for us” you said, “we start at the aquarium, then stop off at the arcade. Have some lunch, then go on to the museum and the theatre”. I looked up from my waffle, somewhat surprised by the packed itinerary. “Oooor,” you said, drawing out the syllable, “we could have a slightly less busy day, where we do the aquarium, then go for lunch and see how we feel after.” “that one sounds better,” I gently spit crumbs across the table as I reply, “The other one I don’t think we’d have time to enjoy any of it.” “You’re a very wise kitty,” you reply, “even if you do talk with your mouth full. How’s your waffle?” Learning from my error, I stick my thumb up as I finish my mouthful, “want a bite?” You dive in, taking a big mouthful. “It’s good” you say, spitting some crumbs back at me, and making me giggle. “Is there anything else you’d like to do today?” you ask. “Comic shop?” I say, “and the board games store?” You nod. “That was always going to happen. Anything else?” I lean in and whisper, “Maybe we could have some play time when we get home?” You smile. “I’m sure we can make that happen.” I finish my waffle and my bubble tea. “Right, Potty Pants, time for a nappy change” you say. “You don’t want to check me first?” I smirk “I know you’re soggy” you say, “I watched you pee your pants twice.” I blush. “Now before we do that, I want you to try to make a pushie for me.” you say “Here?” I ask, surprised. “Here” you say. I lift myself slightly off my seat and do my best to poop. After a minute or so you stop me,”Anything?” I shake my head. “Well done for trying” you say. You grab the bag and usher me out of my seat, then take me into the bathroom. Its small. Much smaller than the one in the station. “We’re going to have to do this standing up” you say, already unbuttoning my jeans. You look at my yellowed, pee-soaked nappy. “Good thing I decided to change you now” you say, before turning me around and checking the back for a mess. “OK, no mess, let’s get you out of your soggy pants” You say as you untape my nappy, and let it drop to the floor. You begin wiping me down. Once again the cool wipes feel good as they clean my skin. Although this time the clean up is much quicker. Once I’m clean you take a thick nappy from your bag, and hold it up against my butt, then gently guide me to the wall so that you can use it to hold the nappy up. “Not sure how easy it’ll be to get you changed at the aquarium” you say, as I stare at the thick nappy a little surprised, “so I thought I’d put you in this in case it’s an issue.” “But people will notice” I pout. You shrug, “They’d notice leak marks on your clothes and a puddle on the floor much more” you say. I can’t fault your logic, but I definitely don’t like it. Safely taped in you pull my jeans back up. In spite of how thick the nappy is, it’s still not too obvious, but as I move the crinkling sound is much louder than from my other nappy. “You ready for the fishes?” you ask. I nod, grinning, then you lead me back out, the thick nappy making me waddle a little as I follow behind you. ***** The entrance to the aquarium is busy, and theres a security screening arch with a bag scanner. I squeeze your hand as I relaise the guards are about to see my nappies. “It’s OK,” you say, reassuring me, “you’re in nappies for a reason, and the guards don’t care.” That’s not entirely true. As the bag goes through they pull us aside. Rather than give a longwinded explanation for the contents, you gently lift my jumper up, giving the guard a glimpse of the waistband of my nappy. I blush, and squeeze your hand harder, but in spite of the little embarrassment, you probably made the right decision. Anything else would have involved them pulling the nappies out while you explain that I’m padded. This way the only person who knows about my secret is the security guard. The other side of security are lockers, and a sign asking people to store large bags to avoid overcrowding. “We’re going to have to leave this here” you say. “Do you want me to take an emergency change out?” I nod. “The only problem is we’ve not got anything to carry it in”. “No then” I say, mortified by the idea of openly carrying a nappy as we walk around the aquarium. “Good thing I put you in a thick one then” you tease. The lighting in the first room of the aquarium is dim, and the air is cool. There’s something slightly dreamy about being in a dark room where one whole wall is a giant fishtank. I rush up to it and stare at the fish. I have no idea which ones are which, but I don’t care. This is fascinating. From high up in the tank a huge fish comes swimming down, swooping through the water. I’m so engrossed in it all that I don’t notice you behind me until you wrap me in a hug. “Enjoying yourself?” you say. I nod and grin, “shall we go into the next room?” We walked through into the next area, open-topped tanks filled with rays, sharks and dogfish. I climbed the stairs to look from above, stumbling a little as my nappy made me waddle. I felt your hand on my arm, helping me stay upright, “You OK?” you asked. I nodded. Your hand moved down to my crotch, and you gave a subtle squeeze of the front of my nappy. “I think you might need to be a bit more careful on stairs” you say, “your nappy’s swelling because it’s soggy”. “I’m not soggy” I protested. Then prodded the front of my nappy. It had definitely swelled since you put it on me. I’d peed myself. When did that happen? You’d changed me less than an hour ago. You saw the look of confusion on my face. “It’s OK, you had an accident. That’s not a problem, is it?” I shook my head, and gave you a cuddle. “I guess not”. You led me down the stairs and into the next room, There were only small tanks here, but there was a series of interactive displays with screens and games and puzzles. One of the games involved downloading an app, then being given a list of fish to ‘collect’ by running between the tanks and photographing the correct one. I couldn’t resist. I was onto my fourth fish, an elusive little panda guppy, when I felt my tummy grumble. I thought about letting you know, but I was enjoying myself and didn’t want to stop. I was also worried, given the bag was at the entrance, that you’d make us cut our trip short. So I just kept on with my hunt. A little bit more searching, and I’d bagged my guppy. Next up the harlequin rasbora.My tummy cramped a little. I glanced around. You were sitting at a screen, playing one of the games, and no one else was in the room. I braced, gave a little push, and felt some mess slip out into my nappy. I patted my bottom, and sniffed the air. It didn’t seem that much and not that noticeable, so I went back to my search. It took me another ten minutes or so to find the last four fish. At the end of the search walked over to the screen where I’d downloaded the app, scanned the completion code, and watched all my fish appear on the screen. It then congratulated me and told me I could collect a prize from the gift shop at the end. I got really excited and ran over to you to show you the screen. I’m sure I saw you sniff as I came near you, but I was too excited to worry about that. You gave me a little hug, then got up. Before I realised what was happening, you turned me round and checked that no one else was in the room, then pulled the back of my jeans and nappy. “Thought so” I heard you say. I blushed. “Are we going to have to leave to get me changed?” I said, my voice tinged with sadness and disappointment. You shook your head, “no, it’s OK, it’s not very noticeable, you’ll be fine a bit longer, but If you realise you’ve had another stinky accident I’d like you to let me know, so that if it is bad we can deal with it.” I nodded. “Uh-huh”. “Shall we go onto the next area?” you asked. I nodded. You led me through the doors into the next area. It was a tunnel, a long, glass one, cutting through an enormous water tank. Fish of all sorts swam through it, and i was incredible. A ray sailed over our heads, and I stopped to watch it. “There was no way I was going to let you miss out on this” you said to me, “no matter how bad an accident you’d had”. I giggled. “I’d have been very sad if you had”. Then I turned to you and gave you a big kiss on the lips. As I pulled away I looked in your eyes and smiled, “I still owe you a teasing for when you were changing me”, We continued on through the tunnel, going slowly as we marveled at the fish swimming above our heads, then emerged into the next room - another activity room. There were a lot more people in here than the last one, and most of the activities were taken up. I made a beeline for one of the empty ones, which had a screen at the top of a wall with various pictures and buttons on it. You walked around the room, looking at the signs on the wall, while I played. The game was OK, but was nowhere near as fun as the fish-finding one I’d played in the other room. The screen would display a fish, then I’d have to find the area of the world it lived in, and how deep it lived. The buttons were in rows and columns, with the columns representing a sea or ocean, and the rows showing the depth - shallowest at the top, deepest at the bottom. It started out as fun, but as I went on i found crouching down and standing up over and over was getting kind of tiring. It was also making my tummy feel grumbly again. I crouched down again, pressing the deepest button to show where the blobfish lived, and as I did my tummy cramped. Without much thought, I gave a push. Unlike the last mess, which was more like a lumpy fart, this was a big, semi-solid poop - the result of the ice cream I’d had earlier making my tummy go haywire. It also smelled pretty awful. I panicked. I knew there couldn’t be many more rooms left, and we’d already been here a good couple of hours, but I didn’t want to have to rush through and leave before we’d done the aquarium properly. I finally stood back up, and kept playing the game. After a few more fish I’d finished. I looked around the room, and saw you were still walking around looking at signs. I gently brushed my hand against my butt. The seat of my jeans was being pushed out by the poop. There was no way you wouldn’t realise what I’d done the minute I came back to you. If you didn’t smell it, you’d definitely see it. I spotted a hard stool in a corner of the room. That would help. I waddled over to it, and sat on the stool, doing my best to smoosh the poop and hide the bluge. I had no idea whether that had worked, but it definitely made the smell worse. To a point where people were looking round trying to work out where it was coming from. There was no way I could stay here. I decided to go find you, and hope that you wouldn’t notice what I’d done. By that point you’d stopped walking around the room, and were standing in the centre, watching me. I came up to you, a little unsteady on my feet as my nappy was now extremely bulky and pushing my legs apart. “What were you doing there, Kitty-cat?” you asked. “Nuthin’” I said, as innocently as possible, “My legs hurt after playing that game, and I wanted to sit down for a minute”. “OK” you said, a tone of disbelief in your voice “Is that why you were crouching down while you were playing it as well?” I didn’t realise you’d seen that. Now would be a perfect time to come clean about my accident like you’d asked me to do. You did say you’d get it sorted, but that would definitely involve going to the entrance to get the changing bag, and then we’d have to leave.. I nodded. “No other reason?” you asked, probing. I moved my head towards you to whisper a reply, then thought about how much I wanted to see what was in the next rooms. I shook my head instead. “Nope”. “Come on then” you said, taking my left hand in yours and ushering me towards the exit. I wondered why you’d chosen to do that, until I felt your right hand on my bottom. You had positioned it slightly underneath, so that it was exactly on the area that was messy, then you put pressure on it, making the mess stick to my butt, reminding me exactly of what I had done. You whispered in my ear, “I think someone has had a very stinky accident?” At this point there was no sense in lying any more. You knew. You’d always known. You even watched me poop my nappy. “Nu-uh!” I whined, “It’s just that the room is smelly”. “Oh? OK” you say as we get to the door. “So it’ll smell better in the next room then?” I shrug, “I don’t know. I’ve not been here before. Maybe?” “Let’s find out” You say as you lead me through the door. The next room has pictures of most of the fish we saw previously on the walls, acting as a bit of a summary of what we’ve seen. From what I could tell it served as a build up to the next room, which must have been the crescendo of the experience. It certainly didn’t seem like people found this room particularly interesting, as it was completely empty. “Nope,” you say, “it definitely doesn’t smell better here”. There’s a tone of frustration in your voice, although from the look on your face it seems to be more for effect rather than genuine. You stop me, just as we’re far enough through for the door to close behind us, and I feel your hand move from my bottom up to the top of my jeans. There’s a slight rush of cool air as you pull back the waistband of my nappy, and the smell gets worse. “ “For someone who hasn’t had an accident,” you say, “there’s an awful lot of poo in your nappy”. You spin me around so I can see your face. You look calm and amused, and your eyes have a wonderful mix of kindness and concern. “Being serious for a minute,” you say, a measured tone to your voice, “I’m not upset you’ve had an accident. Remember, it doesn’t matter, and if you want me to just make it better and make the embarrassment go away, all you need to do is ask”. I nod, my eyes welling up as I try to fight back tears. I wrap my arms around you in a tight hug, Squeezing hard and not letting go for a minute or so. Then I let go, and step back, my head bowed a little. I have no idea what’s coming next, but I know you’re usually pretty creative with my punishments, making them fit the ‘crime’. You take my hand. There’s an accessible toilet in one corner of the room. You lead me into it and close the door. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light. It’s much brighter in here than in the rest of the aquarium. When they do, I realise you’re unbuttoning my jeans. “Did you manage to bring a change?” I say, hope in my voice. “No.” you say, the stern, matter of fact tone to your voice that you’d had earlier coming back. You let my jeans drop to the floor. As I go to step out of them you stop me. “You’ll keep those around your ankles, please”, you say. It’s not a request. You then pull my tshirt and jumper off, leaving them dangling around my wrists. “Don’t let that come off of your wrists under any circumstances”. I nod my head. Your tone, and the situation, has stopped any hint of bratiness. “Now tell me what happened, please” you say, sitting on the closed toilet lid and watching me intently. There’s a slight hissing noise, as without warning or sensation, I lose control and wet my nappy. When it stops I begin to speak. “I didn’t know I needed to poo, then I needed to poo. And it just. I felt a cramp, and then I pushed. I didn’t realise it was going to be so much, and I didn’t want to have to stop having fun just because I’d pooed my nappy. So I tried to keep playing. Then when the game ended, i realised that you might see that my nappy had got bigger at the back so I sat down to try to squish the poo. I didn’t mean to be bad, I just didn’t want to have to leave” The words had started coming out slowly, but sped up as I spoke. Until I got to the bit about sitting down, where the emotion overwhelmed me, and I had to choke out the last bit through tears. By the time I finished speaking I was sobbing uncontrollably. “Come over here please” you said, and I shuffled across the floor, my gait restricted by my nappy and my jeans. You take my hand and begin stroking it reassuringly. “Do you know why you’re being punished?” “Because I didn’t tell you that I’d had an accident? And I tried to hide it from you?” I sniffled. You shook your head , “Because you knew you’d had an accident, but you lied to me. Again and again.” “I just didn’t want to leave” I said, once again sobbing harder. “I know, kitten-face,” you say, using my hand to pull me across your lap, “and you won’t be yet. Not until I decide.” I’m just processing this when I feel a firm slap on the bottom of my nappy. It doesn’t hurt - it would be difficult to hurt me through the padding - but the combination of the thudding, and the sensation of my mess being moved around my nappy with every blow makes me zone out, my brain slipping into a little-ish headspace. After ten swipes you stop hitting. Instead you rub my back, soothing me. You reach into your pocket and pull out my pacifier, slipping it into my mouth, then help me stand up, before guiding me to sit on your lap so you can hug me. I don’t know how long you spend cuddling me, but it’s soothing. At some point I’d stopped sobbing, and was contentedly suckling my pacifier and smiling a little. “OK, stinky-butt” you say, “time to get your clothes back on and get moving”. I stand up, still in a bit of a daze, and let you slip my tops back over my head, and pull my jeans up. They barely fit over my nappy, and the waistband is now very obvious above them. Although the smell of my mess is pretty obvious even if people can’t see my nappy. Before you open the door, you pop the pacifier out of my mouth and slip it back into your pocket. Then you lead me out into the boring room. “I meant what I said about staying until I decide we’re done, by the way” you said, that firm tone back to your voice, “as you don’t seem to care about everyone knowing you’ve messed your nappy, we’re going to keep looking around here until I decide that we can go and get you changed.” I try to work out what you mean by that, but before I can ask any questions, you’ve led me through into the next room. Which again is absolutely full of people. My grip on your hand tightens unconsciously. It won’t be too long before people start to notice that there’s a smell. And that I’m the source. I’m so worried about the people, that I don’t notice the room we’re in. Like the first room, it’s dark, and there’s a whole wall that’s an aquarium tank, but this one is monumental. It’s at least two stories tall, and it’s curved, stretching around the room so we can step inside the curve and be surrounded by the tank on nearly all sides. You lead me towards the curve. Although it is busy, it’s not so bad that we can’t get a good spot. You wrap your arms around me again, and we stand, just looking at the fish, enjoying the moment together. People may well have noticed my messy nappy, but right now I’m completely absorbed by us and I don’t care at all. “How are you feeling?” you ask. “Really happy” I reply. “I was never going to interrupt what we’re doing just to change your nappy.” you say, your voice soothing and calm, “the whole point of them is that you get to enjoy things. To have fun, without having to worry about accidents. And it’s not your fault you’re stinky. It’s the aquarium making it hard for you to be able to change.” My eyes begin to well with tears again, and I give you a big kiss.

All characters in the following story are 18+ Once there was a small village that sat on the edge of a forest. In the summer, when summers lasted many years at a time, the forest bloomed bright with green leaves and deep, warm earth. It was alive with the singing of birds, the sets of badgers, and all sorts of other creatures who called it home. At the very centre of the forest was a massive tree, far taller than all the others, which watched over its kin as their guardian. Through the years, the village and the forest lived in harmony with one another. Yet summer cannot not last forever. One morning, when autumn had fallen over the forest and the trees were bare of leaves, a brother and sister came from a nearby town to visit their aunt, who lived in the forest. They hadn’t seen her in many years, and wanted to bring her gifts to greet her with. First they went to the bakers, and each ordered a loaf of bread to take. “Well, if you’re going through the forest, you best be careful!” the baker’s son said as he kneaded dough. “They say there’s a curse on the forest.” “A curse?” the brother said, shaking a little. “Oh yes. A tree stands there, they say it takes travellers who stray from the path, into it’s domain.” The sister chuckled. “A tree! Who’s afraid of a tree?” She looked over to her brother, but found him shivering with fear. “Stop scaring them!” the baker said, coming out with two fresh loaves of bread. “You go and say hello to your auntie now.” With their fresh bread, the brother and sister made their way to the market. “You don’t really believe in all that nonsense, do you?” the sister said. “N-no! Of course not!” said the brother, his legs shivering. “But could we maybe stop to use the bathroom before we head to auntie’s house?” “Ugh, fine.” Soon they arrived at the market, and got talking to farmer Potts as he filled a jar with fresh honey. “Oh yes, it’s true.” he said, “They built a road through the forest many years ago, and travellers used to throw litter, relieve themselves, do all sorts of things on the road. They say you have to be careful to go potty before you travel there, because if the trees catch you doing it there, you’ll never come back out!” The brother was shaking now, terrified of what may lay ahead. The sister cackled. “We’ll be careful.” she said, and took the honey with a smile. Once they had gathered everything they needed it was late afternoon. The sun was already low in the sky, never having fully risen. “Can we please find a potty now?” the brother said as they came up the road. The sister frowned, and looked up into the quickly darkening sky. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll be walking through the forest in the dark. You can hold it, right?” “I-I’m not sure I can!” “Well then just go in the forest.” the sister said. “But the tree--” “Oh don’t be such a child! There’s no tree that can punish you for peeing!” Soon they were outside the forest itself. What few leaves the trees had were brown. The path seemed to disappear into darkness, the trees like a skeletal ribcage that arched over top. “You’re not scared, are you?” Asked the sister, though even she had to admit, she was a little unnerved. “N-no!” insisted the brother. He stood a little straighter, the jar of honey tight in his hands. If there was another way, both would surely have taken it. But this was the only road to Auntie’s house, and she was expecting them. So, they both took deep breaths, and wondered into the forest. The trees seemed to have eyes. The brother glanced from branch to branch, hoping desperately that the path would reach Auntie’s house soon and they could lay down in nice warm beds. But the path went on and on, and soon the trees grew twisty and windy. Crows laughed from far above, and the darkness became greater, until they could barely see the mushroom-strewn path ahead. “How far away are we?” the brother asked soon after. He was fidgeting now, growing desperate to relieve himself with nowhere in sight. “I … I don’t know.” the sister asked, looking around nervously. There was no-one else here, and it all looked the same. “None of this is familiar.” She looked over to her brother, waddling uncomfortably lest he pee his pants. “Just go in the forest! I won’t look.” “I … I can’t. The trees will be angry!” The sister scoffed. “Don’t be such an idiot!” she said. But soon she too felt nature’s calling. The feeling seemed to sneak up on her, she hadn’t been expecting it, and the longer the sensation of a full bladder lingered, the harder it became to concentrate. When at last they came to a large clearing, they hoped to see Auntie’s house. The trees weren’t so thick here, and the moon crept through some of the branches, casting broad, bright beams onto the forest floor. “It has to be here!” the sister quickly did a lap around the clearing, but all that was here was a large tree, far bigger than all the others. Nothing else. Not a bee, nor a butterfly. No life except the ancient tree. “Stop walking like that, you’re making me want to go too!” The sister scowled at the brother, who had his hands pressed between his legs, his knees crossed. “Sorry! I—I really need to pee!” They were clearly lost. They had been walking for an hour or more, and still the cottage was nowhere in sight. The sister turned her back on her brother, and the clearing fell into a deep silence as she tried to concentrate on what to do next. The trees whispered far above them, and the branches groaned. Beneath the sister’s feet, the gentle squelch of leaves and mud, and the occasional mushroom, was all the noise in the entire forest. “I-I can’t hold it much more!” the brother eventually whispered, and the sister turned to berate him, but before she could there was a shrill, shrieking call. The brother stiffened, standing straight and alert. The sister jumped too, almost dropping her loaves of bread. They glanced at one another. The brother squeaked as a terrible warmth flooded him. Slowly, a shadow, blacker even than the darkness of the evening, appeared ahead of them. An elongated body. Terrible, bony horns. A snout that huffed and sniffed in the air. But the sister squinted. She took a tentative step forward. No, that was no phantom or ghost. The figure emerged into the clearing, and the moonlight showed it’s true form—a deer, it’s antlers tall and proud, it’s nose twitching. From behind her, the sister heard a quiet sigh. The deer startled, stood frozen for a moment, and ran. When the sister turned, her brother stood there suddenly relaxed. “See, there are no ghosts!” she said, “Finally over your fear of the forest?” “No,” the brother said, “I just don’t have to go pee any more.” The sister glanced down. A dark patch was slowly spreading through his pants, steaming where his accident met the cold air. As shocked as the sister was, her brother’s accident only reminded her of her own desperation. She rushed past him towards the big tree. A ring of mushrooms encircled it, disappearing around the other side. “What are you doing?” the brother asked nervously as he saw her moving around the side of the great tree. “Don’t leave me!” “I’m not going away! I just need to pee as well. Now turn around and let me go.” The brother awkwardly did just that. He was still going as he turned, emptying the last of his bladder down his pants and onto the leaves below. As embarrassing as it was, it felt good to finally just let go. The warmth was nice too. Auntie will surely understand, he thought, not paying attention to his sister. The sister had moved to a discreet spot beside the massive tree. She had beden growing desperate too. If they continued down the path as they had been, who knows when she was going to get another chance to go? Better here, before she joined her brother and wet her panties. She unzipped her skirt and dropped her leggings. She squatted awkwardly by the ring of mushrooms, obscured from the clearing by a massive tree-root. She ignored the small wet-patch on her panties where she had almost lost control. She wasn’t some silly man, unable to hold herself until she reached civilisation. She was a grown woman dammit, and she would certainly not be showing up to her Aunt’s house having wet herself like a child. Finally able to let go, she sighed. Relief washed through her, fear of the forest vanishing along with her full bladder. She closed her eyes, listening to the patter against the ancient tree. In fact, she was so consumed with the relief she felt, so absorbed by her potty-break, that she failed to notice the ground bubbling beneath her feet. She did not notice when the roots of the tree moved through the earth, carrying with them the same mushrooms she was now relieving herself on. She did not notice the branch reach out around the brother, and did not notice when the brother whispered a dissonant, “Yes.” The brother felt so good, so empty, so … dumb. And what was this all around him? This sweet scented cloud that twinkled in the moonlight? “Why, you’re a very wet little boy, aren’t you?” A voice from nowhere said. “Let’s get these dirty things off and put some more appropriate clothing on, mmmm?” “Yes mama.” the brother found himself saying as his legs went cold. Then, as if he had been wrapped in a warm blanket, a pleasant warmth suddenly enveloped his whole body. His legs felt weak, his waist felt heavy. So heavy that he planted himself onto his freshly padded bottom with a splat, giggling a little to himself at the funny feeling. Soon the sister had finished her business. She pulled up her leggings and her skirt, and stepped back over the massive root. She heard a sigh, and looked down to see the mushrooms twinkling a little. They looked very pretty in the moonlight. “Finished! Now, let’s get going, Auntie’s has to be around here somewh—” “There there.” the tree said in a thousand voices as it rubbed a branch gently against the brother’s back. “It wasn’t your fault you went in your pants. Little boys like you can’t help it. You did warn her after all…” “W-what is this?” the sister whispered. She backed up slowly. Ahead of her was her brother, right where she had left him. He sat there, on the forest floor, playing with the jar of honey, scooping it out of the jar by the handful and stuffing it into his mouth. “Stop this!” the sister shouted, and the brother turned, his eyes red with tears. He sat there, on the forest floor, in nothing but his underwear. No, not his underwear. Around his waist was a thick, poofy diaper. “Get up!” the sister shouted, “Stop it now!” she was shaking, unable to move. “Now, don’t be so mean to your brother.” “Who—” the sister stuttered, unable to get her question out. She hit the tree, unable to back up any further. Suddenly the entire massive trunk shifted behind her, the branches creaking and groaning, the knotted bark slowly peeling open. A thousand green eyes appeared all the way up until they disappeared into the canopy above. A mouth, jagged and uneven, opened up. “I am the guardian of this forest!” the tree said, “Who are you to intrude on my land?” “Tree--? We were just following the path, just wanted to get to our Auntie’s house.” The sister said, though it was becoming difficult to think, difficult to speak. “And yet you defile my woods with your human mess!” “We-we had to pee! It was an accident, I swear!” “No! It may have been an accident for your poor sweet brother here, but not you.” The brother turned, and the girl looked on in horror as his mouth tried to form words, but all that came out was “Bwaaa baa! Bwaa ba bee!” “Awww, he’s trying to say your name! How sweet.” “Stop this!” the sister cried, “Stop it now! We have to get to Auntie’s house! You’re not a baby, you’re my brother!” The tree just laughed. “He cannot understand you now, dear!” But the brother’s expression suddenly dropped. His honeyed hand froze mid-air. He squinted, as if he was concentrating, trying to break free. The sister saw him trying to stand, lifting himself off the ground slightly. “Come on! Please!” the sister plead. The brother’s face suddenly scrunched up. There was a moment of silence in the forest again. The sister’s heart was racing. Then there was a brrraaap. The sister crumpled her nose. A foul smell filled the air. As the brother leant forward, a small round bulge peeked out the back of his diaper. It grew and grew, and the brother grunted a little, until his face relaxed and he sighed. Then, without a care in the world, he sat back down and resumed his playtime. The tree just laughed. “Hahaha, how cute! We’ll have to call your auntie for a change, won’t we? But first…” The branch that was caring for the brother suddenly twitched. It began to move, slowly at first, but quicker and quicker. The sister realised with a start that it was coming for her. “No!” she cried, “Please!” “Ah, ah. No complaining now, you brought this on yourself.” The sister pushed herself off the tree, slowly backing up into the forest. She stepped on a mushroom, and a cloud of dust puffed around her. Coughing, she said, “No! Not me! I don’t need diapers like him! I’m a big girl!” “Now now, don’t lie to mama. Clearly you need some more potty training, otherwise you would have been able to control yourself until you reached your auntie’s house.” The sister looked down at her brother. He was gone, his mind turned to mush. All she could do now was get to her aunts. So, with the branch approaching her, she did the only thing she could. She ran. “Oh, feeling naughty? Well, if you insist on not doing as you’re told, we’ll have to find an extra special punishment for you, won’t we?” The tree’s voice was surprisingly calm, like a mother who had done this a thousand times before. As the sister raced through branches and brambles, she could hear the tree’s branch reach out for her, chasing her though the woods. Soon all light had gone, and she desperately stumbled around in the dark, the path long behind her. She had no idea where she was going, only that she had to run. Behind her, the branch kept coming. Closer. Closer. Then, suddenly, she saw a light ahead. It wasn’t the pale glow of moonlight, but the warm inviting ebb of a hearth. She could smell fresh broth, too. Auntie’s house was right there. Other sensations, smells sweet like honey, a sudden warmth through her body, relief at having found home, all of it washed over her. She burst through the treeline, onto the path she thought she had lost. Auntie’s house was right there, and the sister could see her in the window, cooking their dinner, waiting for her and her brother. The sister smiled, inhaling deeply. She wasn’t sure how long she stood at the edge of the forest for. She wanted to call out, to run to her aunt. Something stopped her. When she finally heard auntie’s door creak open, when the warmth smell of broth wafted over, the sister had already followed the mushroom-laden branch deep into the forest. *** Auntie opened her front door to the sounds of the trees. “Come, I have a present for you.” the tree said. “Oh? I hope this won’t take long. I’m expecting my niece and nephew.” “I’m sure they won’t mind. In fact, I’ll think they’ll like what I’ll show you.” Auntie followed the tree into the heart of the forest, to where it’s clearing was. It was here that the village said lonely travellers disappeared, but that was because they showed no respect. It was a lesson she had learned long ago. And it seemed her niece and nephew had yet to learn that lesson. They sat giggling on the forest floor. Her nephew was playing with a jar of honey, her niece dribbling all over herself, squelching mud happily between her fingers. Two fully grown adults, playing in the mud like a pair of babies. “I found them wondering all alone.” the tree said. “So you thought you’d ‘take care’ of them?” “That’s right! The sister is a very naughty little girl, urinating in my forest,” the tree said sternly. “But her brother is sweet enough.” There was a foul smell in the clearing as well. Auntie sniffed around a little, and soon came to the source of the odour. “Ooof! He certainly doesn’t smell sweet.” The sister wasn’t quite as messy as her brother, but stank all the same. Both of their diapers were full of as much mush as their brains were, now. Auntie sighed. “Come on.” she said to the tree. “Help me get these too home.” “Wonderful! What then?” the tree said. “We’ll get them acquainted with their new lives.” THE END The Potty Tree-by RawrJam.pdf

Hey all - close followers of @34qucker's might have noticed that he did a drawing of Jackie from Baby's Unexpected Trip (and other stories I've written a few months ago. Since then, the two of us have been working together on this piece, and we've had a lot of fun! He's done a full companion series to this story - the first image is embedded below, and the rest are over on his SubscribeStar, which I highly recommend! Hope people enjoy this as much as we did! _________ “Look who’s here, princess?” Mama asked, sliding a cake with a lone flickering candle onto the tray of Jackie’s highchair. There was really only a small handful of people it was likely to be, and given that her biological parents and the majority of the other regressed adults she was “friends” with had been in attendance at her birthday party the weekend before, it was no surprise to see Mama’s boyfriend, Dada, enter the kitchen. “Just in time to sing,” Mama continued, more to Dada than her. Though Mama’s tone suggested a coincidence, Jackie had little doubt that his recent arrival explained the 15 minutes or so she’d just spent stuck snugly strapped into her highchair between the end of her dinner and her impending dessert. Dada surveyed the scene briefly, seeming to slightly chuckle at the sight Jackie presented as he moved to join Mama at the kitchen table in front of Jackie’s chair. “Happy birthday to you!” they began slowly, with Mama in particular summoning an enthusiasm that could only be achieved with the tinge of mockery that was unmistakably present. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Baby Jackie! Happy birthday to you!” “Yay!” Mama exclaimed, clapping patronizingly as she stood up once again and crossed back to Jackie’s highchair. She placed a would-be supporting hand on Jackie’s back, pointing towards the cake with her other hand. “Do you think you can blow out the candle, baby Jackie? You’re the birthday girl, so you get to!” Mama, of course, knew she could, having just seen her do so at her birthday party. In fact, much of this scene mirrored what had happened the other day, right down to the polka-dotted birthday hat whose elastic had been just slightly pinching into her chin since she’d been woken from her nap this afternoon and the bib around her neck proudly declaring “Still 1” just in case anyone had any doubts that this year bore no greater prospects for Jackie being allowed to resume her adult life than any of last eight had. With no desire to draw things out, Jackie leaned forward, quickly exhaling to extinguish the flame in front of her. “Good job, sweetie!” Mama praised, with Dada joining her in applause even an actual toddler would realize well exceeded the feat it was rewarding. “I’ll bring this right back, birthday girl!” she continued, snatching the cake off the tray and moving towards the counter behind Jackie’s perch. “I just need to get things ready for everyone to have their cake!” Jackie was far more relieved than annoyed at that news. The cake was not that much smaller than the one she’d shared with her fellow big babies the other day, and there had been 7 of them that day. With nothing else to look at, Jackie was left sort of awkwardly looking at Dada as he remained looking at her. Though he’d been on the scene dating Mama for a few years now, Jackie really didn’t know much about him. If Mama needed a babysitter for Jackie, it was usually to allow her to do something with Dada, so fortunately she never left Jackie alone in his care. Beyond that, Jackie had the impression that their relationship was largely physical, as, at least while Jackie was not tucked away in her crib (which was often conveniently soon after he arrived, regardless of whether that made for an early bedtime or an unscheduled extra nap), she was almost more likely to hear the sounds of Mama and Dada getting a head start on adult activities as she was to hear them having a conversation that would give her any insight into his personality. Even if she wasn’t sent to bed, Jackie’s presence barely seemed to deter them, but she suspected that things only got more physical rather than more conversational once they were alone. When Jackie was around, Mama clearly drove all interactions between the three of them, so neither Jackie nor Dada really knew what to do in brief moments like these where they were on their own. Jackie didn’t really mind the respite, of course, especially where she figured to be the center of attention again in a couple of moments when she’d be served her cake. Cake was always a real double edged sword for her. Between her birthday, the birthday parties she went to for her friends, and birthday celebrations for Mama, Dada, or her real parents, she probably got a chance to have cake somewhere around 10 times a year. Considering she spent literally every other day of the year desperately wishing for anything other than the baby food her diet otherwise consisted of, the cake truly was a treat. On the other hand, it was undoubtedly a tool used by Mama and the other grown ups to serve up maximum humiliation. There were some variations on a theme, but she could be certain she’d never get silverware, and in most cases, even her hands would be stuck under the tray of a highchair like they were right now. And while clearly better than her normal diet, the cakes were always generous-to-a-fault with their frosting. The result was always a mess so great it made even some of the messiest faces Mama could generate with deliberately errant spoonfuls of baby food look positively dainty compared to the slovenly effect the frosting produced. And, of course, that mess was usually made in front of an attentive crowd of some sort that was more than willing to comment. Even after the mess was over, the impact of the cake was often long-lasting. Jackie’s body wasn’t used to the sugar, so she often had a stomach ache, especially since the addition of the large dessert was never offset by being fed any less during any of her regular meals. That specter loomed especially large today, as Jackie was already dealing with a fullness in her lower abdomen that was only going to lead to one outcome. One way of looking at her day-to-day existence was as a game of trying to get her body and whatever Mama’s agenda was to sync up so that she spent as little time in dirty diapers as possible, while ideally also minimizing how much of that time was in front of others or stuck in situations where she needed to put a lot of weight on her loaded backside. That wasn’t a game she could really win, of course, but so far today she’d been pretty successful at minimizing her losses. She’d had a very minor mess this morning (a concept the version of herself that had left college would have gagged at the thought of), and Mama had even changed her unusually quickly afterwards. She’d idly thought earlier this afternoon that the universe’s birthday present to her was going to be a mostly painless day on that front, and even right up until Dada had walked in she’d thought that if she could hold off until she was out of her highchair she’d pretty much guarantee that she’d have nothing worse than a few gratuitous seat pats from Mama to ostensibly confirm the state of her diaper or the gross but short lived smash as she was set down to be changed before a bath or bedtime just a few minutes after the end of the dinner ordeal. With Dada here now, the odds she’d be able to do it in relative privacy looked a lot worse, and Jackie was actively reckoning with whether his presence would cause enough deviation in the routine that she’d need to just suck it up and do the deed while she was still seated to make sure that she wasn’t whisked off to bed so quickly that she didn’t have time to do so after getting down but before being changed. Still, as long as she avoided that, the time element of the problem was clearly working in her favor, and she’d have to take that as a relative win. “Alright,” Mama playfully announced, jolting Jackie out of the brief trance she’d been in, “yours will be in there, mister.” Dada smiled broadly, stood up, and walked past Jackie’s highchair. She heard him and Mama exchange a kiss, and then he seemed to continue out of the room, which presumably meant Mama had sent him into the living room. That seemed quite odd, since Jackie assumed they’d have eaten at the table, especially given that they’d surely want to comment on the greedy-looking disgrace Jackie was about to make of herself. She supposed she never actually saw Mama eat all that much, since she could quite conveniently eat lunch and dinner during Jackie’s nap and after her bedtime, meaning it was possible that that was just where Mama was in the habit of eating, but even so, Jackie suddenly sensed something was amiss. And woe betide any member of her social circle when something was amiss. The tray pressing tightly against her arms and stomach prevented Jackie from turning around to see what might be going on, but even before Jackie fully had time to register her wish for a little more mobility, Mama had reached her tray with the cake. Jackie looked down at it, confused to see that it was still intact, looking exactly as it had when it left her tray but for the candle having been removed. It wasn’t completely unprecedented to have a different cake than the “grown-ups.” Just this weekend, her birthday party had been Strawberry Shortcake themed. For the baby guests, this meant they all wore cutesy, more-or-less matching dresses while Jackie wore what she could only assume was a Strawberry Shortcake Halloween costume, then ate thick slices of a pink-frosted but otherwise plain yellow cake. For their part, the caregivers dressed completely normally, but joined in on the theme by eating much more reasonable portions of a far better-looking strawberry shortcake. Still, given the comments Mama had made, the size of the cake now in front of her, and the couple of minutes it had taken Mama, Jackie had assumed there would be some portioning that had taken place. Confused, she glanced over at Mama. Instantly, her confusion doubled. She’d felt Mama moving in close, but at first her attention had focused on the cake in front of her. Now, she realized that perhaps the bigger surprise was that Mama was standing next to her completely in the nude, for some reason holding an intricately laced thong - clearly hers - in the hand that hadn’t proffered the cake. Jackie literally drank from Mama’s breasts daily, and also fairly frequently saw her in either a sports bra or bikinis, plus of course was in various states of undress in front of Mama herself multiple times a day, but somehow seeing her fully exposed breasts like this felt incredibly taboo. The tray in front of her slightly obstructed Jackie’s view of Mama’s lower half, but she could see just the very top of her pubic hair. Between that and the panties she was casually flaunting on her finger, Mama didn’t even need to say a word to make Jackie feel very self-conscious about her own hairless crotch as she slightly squished on the swollen padding below her with each shift in her chair. “We’re gonna have some grown-up cake in the other room,” Mama said, seemingly answering Jackie’s look of confusion. Jackie hadn’t heard that euphemism before, but the meaning was clear as day in this context. “But that’s nothing little birthday girls need to worry about. You’ve got all this yummy cake to eat! If you don’t finish before we do, I’ll just have to assume you’re all tuckered out from all this birthday fun and put you straight to bed and deal with the mess you’re about to make in the morning!” Jackie just slightly whimpered at that news. There was no way she could finish the entire cake in front of her, was there? And yet, she’d yet to see Mama fail to follow through on a threat like that in all the years she’d been under her care. Of course, the consequence of failure wasn’t exactly clear, either. Jackie’s mind had immediately jumped to the messy diaper she’d been scheming about timing optimally, but surely Mama couldn’t know about that, could she? It seemed more likely that she meant she would send her to bed with a frosting covered face. That had certainly never happened before, but Mama was creative and it did sound pretty awful. Perhaps she could sort of wipe some excess off on her pillowcase, but with her hands immobilized by her nightly swaddling, she would only be moving the frosting from her face to where she’d be putting her head down. Either way, it seemed like a recipe for waking up with a sticky, crusty disaster all over her face and hair. “Oh, and Baby,” Mama said, interrupting Jackie before her train of thought got too far out of the station, “I don’t know if you’re too little to tell, but I thought Dada looked very excited for his cake. So I would dig in if I were you.” Mama was condescending, but she was right. The best way to avoid finding out what an overnight frosting facial would do to her was to somehow slog her way through this assignment, and she would surely need all the time she could get. She took a deep breath, straightening herself against the highchair’s back almost like she was about to go underwater in a pool, then plunged face first into the sugary abyss, pulling up on the tray with her arms and hands to help get enough leverage to bend down to the cake despite the tray itself restricting her ability to lean forwards very far. Even with her face deep in the cake, Jackie couldn’t help hearing Mama chuckling with amusement before she left Jackie to it. The first mouthful, as she’d learned to expect over the years, was almost exclusively frosting, with the slightly grainy thickness of that layer meaning that she only bit the very edge of the actual cake. The sweetness was nice, but there was barely even time to register that. “You like it?” Jackie heard Mama ask teasingly as she sat up to try to swallow the mouthful of stiff frosting. “I bet you want every last bit.” Jackie looked down at the cake in front of her. The frosting was a good inch or so thick, and she’d probably managed a four or five inch gash in it, but it was demoralizing to see how little damage she’d done. She knew Mama was talking to Dada, but she still had to repress the urge to say “no” given how perfectly it fit Mama’s rhetorical wager with Dada. Even just looking at the cake, Jackie could tell that there was quite a bit on her face - you could actually see a print where her nose had hit the frosting, and Jackie could feel just a little caked on her nostrils, though not enough to seriously impact her breathing. Her chin and cheeks also held a decent share of the frosting she’d managed to take off the cake in the first pass. Jackie was a little more reckless with her second dive, knowing any cake that was stuck to her face or sufficiently separate and crumbled from the main cake on the tray beneath her would likely count as eaten for the purposes of this exercise. She was deliberate in pushing her face further down, doing her best to think of the frosting she felt hitting her eyebrows as a win, and even slightly shaking her mouth around in the cake, though she hadn’t yet bitten off enough of the actual sponge to really be making crumbs to send flying. Jackie soon settled into a bit of a rhythm. She’d already gone completely numb to the cake’s taste, which at once deprived her of the chance to enjoy how much this wasn’t the nasty mush she normally ate but also kept her mind off of the fact that this was clearly too much of a good thing. She’d also become so messy that she’d crossed an important mental barrier. If she had a mirror, she was pretty sure she could find plenty of spots on her face that weren’t actually covered in cake, but the mess felt so thorough that mentally it no longer seemed like there was any way she could get meaningfully dirtier. In a strange way, that helped, because it meant there was really no incentive for Jackie to be as aggressive as possible with each dive into the increasingly disheveled cake. “Yes! Keep going!” Mama moaned breathily in the other room, and for just a moment Jackie wondered if she’d paused without noticing. Listening for another second though, the murmurs of pleasure she was letting out seemed to indicate she was just particularly enjoying whatever it was Dada was doing in the next room. If Jackie hadn’t paused before, now she definitely had. Worryingly, Mama’s moans were clearly intensifying, though so far Dada at least wasn’t giving off any audible clues that he was approaching his own climax. Mama’s phrasing had suggested they were both intending to finish, but it certainly wouldn’t be completely out of character for her to prioritize her own pleasure without much thought about other’s, especially if that would somehow add to Jackie’s misery. So it was hard for Jackie to trust that his silence really bought her any extra time. She needed to get going. Unfortunately for Jackie, each time she folded herself down for another bite or straightened back up to chew and swallow was adding intensity to her need to make another kind of mess, and the rapid addition of much more food for her digestive system to process wasn’t helping matters at all. All this shifting back and forth on the highchair’s hard seat was sure to produce an extra gross diaper extra quickly if she messed herself now, but Jackie could tell that the carefully considered movements she was making in order to avoid accentuating her cramps were beginning to slow her down even more than the distracting noises behind her were. There was really only one thing to do now. As much as she’d hoped to be able to wait until she was at least done eating, realistically she was probably only adding a few minutes at most before she got changed, and while that would be very unpleasant it would beat spending the whole night covered in frosting. And so, reluctantly, the next time she sat up, she pushed. Regrettably, Jackie had more than enough experience with messing in tight seats like this to know that she’d encounter some resistance, and sure enough, she had to fight through some reverse pressure, forcing her soft log to immediately turn into an oozy pile that started to uniformly fill in space - mostly being forced up into the higher reaches of her butt crack but also going as far down as it could before the pressure of the chair created a barrier that couldn’t be passed. “Oh god,” Mama said from the other room. “It’s so big.” Though it was nowhere near an all-timer, it was true that Jackie could immediately tell this was not the minor mess she’d had this morning, and it packed a much more pungent punch than the previous parcel had. Still, it took her a few seconds to realize that Mama wasn’t talking about anything going on in her diaper, which they likely had no idea about just yet, and instead must have been referring to Dada’s member. If Jackie had been stuck in her highchair without the dual problem of her cake and her diaper to distract her, she would probably have begun to suspect that Mama, who’d certainly seen enough of Dada not to be surprised by his size, was making these comments to make sure Jackie knew what she was missing, and depending on how sexually frustrated she was or wasn’t feeling that day, she might have even found it slightly funny how cliche some of these supposedly spontaneous exclamations were. Another particularly loud moan from the other room reminded Jackie that there was no time to waste wallowing. Apparently, Jackie realized, the physical act of messing herself had brought her chewing to an unconscious stop, but she quickly resumed, swallowing as soon as she could. Looking at the cake in front of her, she couldn’t help but worry she was in trouble. The third of the cake nearest to her was pretty well destroyed, and she was starting to at least disturb the middle portion, but an entire crescent-shaped back portion still had the top layer of frosting sitting as smoothly as it had been when it was delivered, not to mention the three to four inches of untouched sponge underneath. Saying she was halfway through might be generous. Was it too pessimistic to think Mama and Dada sounded further along than that? With no alternative but to hope that some combination of a lack of firsthand experience and the desperation of her situation were making her more worried than she needed to be, Jackie forced herself to work on the only thing she could control by once again burying herself in the cake below her. Perhaps ironically, she realized that having her face unceremoniously stuffed in the oversized treat at least had the benefit of making it so she could no longer smell herself. Less pleasantly, shifting her weight off the directly upright point at which she’d just messed herself made it immediately clear that there was a little more still up there that would need to come out in a position like this. She really didn’t have the time, but the last thing she wanted to do was miss her chance now and then need to mess again as soon as she was tucked in for the night, potentially leaving her trying to sleep with a messy face and a messy diaper, so, keeping her face pressed deep in the cake, she pushed again, forcing the poop that was only just beginning to cool further from its original source and replacing it with a smaller mass of even fresher waste. Fortunately, Jackie could pretty quickly tell that she probably was done now, and so she attempted to gather just a little bit more into her mouth, then straightened up once more to chew and swallow, doing her best to ignore how her movement squeezed the mess just a bit further up her backside as she straightened out as if her crack was some sort of tube of toothpaste. Jackie could hear the volume of Dada’s deeper grunts growing rapidly, which was unsettling, since he’d been relatively quiet for much of the time they’d been going at it. “Faster,” Mama encouraged, and though this time it was quite clearly not directed at her, the encouragement was the closest anyone was going to come to being the Matilda to her Bruce Bogtrotter. Desperately, Jackie bobbed her head down to the cake below as rapidly as her ability to chew the sticky treat would allow, doing her best to make as much of a mess as humanly possible as she did so. Despite her efforts, though, there was undeniably still plenty of cake left when Dada’s grunt went over the top into a loud exhale of pure bliss, and, just a second or two later, Mama’s steady stream of ever escalating “oh!”s switched to two breathy shouts of “yes” and then culminated in her own guttural release of ecstasy. Even without having ever done more than some handsy making out herself, Jackie knew plenty enough to know she’d just heard them finish. With at least a quarter of the cake still undisturbed (and nearly that much scattered across the tray and her face), Jackie had clearly failed to meet the letter of the law when it came to Mama’s assignment. Jackie felt doomed. Still, she knew from the all-too-rare occasions that Mama allowed her to experience some release via self-stimulation that there was a natural desire to bask in the afterglow in times like these. While Mama universally found ways to jerk Jackie out of that bliss far before she was ready, Jackie suspected she’d be more than happy to afford herself that luxury. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept plugging away, Jackie could finish up before Mama and Dada untangled themselves and Mama made her way over to check on her progress. “Jeez,” Mama panted. “That filled me up so much I’m afraid if I move too quickly it’ll all just come right back out and end up everywhere.” “Same,” Jackie thought, though this time it was even more obvious than before that any resemblance to her own predicament was purely coincidental. Mama had the luxury of waiting a minute and then hoping that some careful movements could mitigate her problem, which, of course, sounded like a pretty high-class problem from where Jackie sat. Not only could she not indulge in a wait-it-out approach, she knew she had to actually make the problem worse in order to have any shot at some degree of meaningful relief later. Ignoring her fullness as best she could, Jackie resumed the dive, shake, rise, and swallow pattern she’d been diligently pursuing for most of the last ten minutes. The cake had long since stopped tasting like a treat, or really even tasting, and was just the sticky, crumby, slightly drooly thing she had in front of her that she had to try to finish. Without the sounds of far more adult activities floating in from the next room, Jackie was assaulted with the sounds of the cake’s cardboard disk shifting around just slightly each time she went in for a bite or the vinyl of her bib swishing side to side against the base of the tray. The sounds were clear to her from inches away, but she could only hope that they weren’t really audible in the next room, or at least if they were they wouldn’t doom her to failure even if she finished before Mama returned. But stopping wasn’t an option, as that would guarantee her failure. Soon, her focus on the cake was interrupted by the sounds of ominous giggling in the other room. “Alllllright, birthday girl,” Mama called, seeming to exaggerate the alright to simulate the groan you might make getting up from somewhere comfortable, “let’s see how you did!” Jackie did her best to swallow what was in her mouth, looking down herself as if maybe by some miracle perhaps that last bite had somehow been much bigger than she’d known. There was no pleasant surprise. What was in front of her was really no more than maybe an eighth of the cake (or, at least, the undisturbed part of what was in front of her was about an eighth - probably at least that much was strewn across the tray, not to mention Jackie’s face and bib), but it had clearly not been finished. Any reasonable person would see that she’d made an absolutely massive effort on the enormous task, but Mama had a long history of holding Jackie to unreasonable standards. “Oh, sweetie,” Mama said, putting her hand on Jackie’s shoulder as she emerged from the back of the highchair. She’d apparently found and replaced her bra on the way over, but was otherwise still naked. Mama sort of chuckled a bit, but didn’t say anything else for a second, leaving Jackie to wonder what she might be focusing on. God knows she’d given her more than enough ammo. Jackie tried her best to keep her face neutral, knowing that returning the condescension with a glare might worsen her fate, though with so much frosting caked on her it may not have been that obvious whether she’d held her poker face or not. “You were supposed to finish your cake, princess,” she continued at last, “but I guess there was just too much birthday excitement and you got too tired. Oh well, we’ll get you right to bed!” There had been too much of something, but it wasn’t exactly excitement. But leave it to Mama to frame things in a way that made it seem like Jackie was the real reason for her own problems. Blame, though, was hardly the biggest issue, and any hope Jackie had that her Mama might somehow consider her monumental effort worthy of cleaning her face anyways was dashed. “Oh!” Mama said suddenly, dashing away for a second before returning with her phone. “Your Mommy was the one who sent you that cake and I promised her a picture!” She fiddled with the screen with her hand for a second, pulling up the camera app and setting it to selfie mode. “Say, ‘thank you!’” she said when she was ready, leaning in with a massive smile to pose with her beleaguered charge. “Fank you,” Jackie mimicked weakly, not even intending the slight lisp that normally came from trying to speak around the presence of a pacifier in her mouth. On some sort of weird autopilot trained into her probably as far back as her original first birthday party, Jackie found herself forcing out a little half smile for the camera, though the face she saw mirrored on the screen in front of her certainly betrayed that she was less than happy. “Perfect!” Mama said after snapping the picture, holding it aloft a few extra seconds to allow Jackie to see. Mama had perfectly positioned herself semi-behind Jackie in such a way that you couldn’t really see anything on her naked bottom half, though a half-second’s examination would be plenty to see that she wasn’t wearing anything down there. Jackie couldn’t believe Mama was really going to send that to Jackie’s real mother, Mama’s own employer, but then her regression seemed to have a way of making people comfortable breaking just about every social norm imaginable. “Baby Jackie says thank you for the cake,” Mama faux-muttered as she walked back over towards the counter, clearly narrating the text she was sending to Jackie’s mother for the sole purpose of Jackie knowing what was being said about her. “Almost finished it all by herself! Even had time to make me a present - how nice of her! LOL!” Jackie heard the sound of the phone being set on the counter, more-or-less confirming that the evidence of her miserable birthday had been shared. Her parents, of course, had been the ones who made her like this in the first place and would have known full well what she might end up looking like when they sent that cake, but the thought of them seeing her like this still made her cheeks burn, especially since Mama had given away the shameful state of her backside, which otherwise would have stayed undetectable to an uninformed viewer. “Let me just get this out of the way,” Mama said, swooping in to take the cake off the tray. Still immobilized by the straps and the tray itself, Jackie could do little but stare at the clean circle where the cake’s cardboard disk had been, its outline memorialized amid the carnage she had caused all around it. The blank void really served to drive home just how monumental a mess she really had made. “Alright,” Mama said when she returned again. “I don’t care how tired you are, we can’t put you to be like this, can we? I don’t want to have to wash your sheets tomorrow.” Mama put down a package of baby wipes and removed one, quickly starting to scrape through the thick coating of crumbs and frosting that was smeared all over Jackie’s face. Instinctively, Jackie closed her eyes, knowing that Mama would need to get around and even over them given her state, and tried to hold still through the rather rough wiping process. Her mind was racing - she really hadn’t expected to be cleaned up like this, especially after the way Mama had confirmed she had failed. Perhaps she had decided she just didn’t want to do the laundry, but it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time she’d made a lot more work for herself just to further Jackie’s misery, so it would be a little surprising if this was a sudden change of heart. Which meant… Jackie couldn’t escape the conclusion that her first instinct was right. That somehow Mama had been able to tell she was about to mess herself and had set not sleeping in a poopy diaper, on her birthday no less, as the stakes of her basically impossible challenge. Jackie shuddered at the thought, cruelly reminded of the nasty pile beneath her by the slight change in position. “I know, the wipes are cold,” Mama said, with an unconvincing veneer of sympathy. “We’ll be done soon.” The wipes were a bit cold, but that was hardly Jackie’s focus. The scent of the wipes so close to her nose was overpowering the smell right now, but Jackie knew her nursery would probably smell for days after spending her whole night like this, and there was every chance she’d wake up at least somewhat itchy, though hopefully being relatively still through the night could minimize the severity of the rash she felt sure would come. Jackie felt Mama starting to wipe a little in her hair, which seemed like a sign that her face was likely done. She opened her eyes, noting that while most of her view was dominated by the underside of Mama’s forearm, she at least no longer could see any pink frosting in her peripheral vision. “This is still going to be a little sticky in the morning,” Mama said, perhaps having noticed Jackie had opened her eyes, “but at least it won’t make a mess. You’ll need a bath then, anyways.” Jackie knew that Mama was as much talking to herself as she was to Jackie, so no answer was expected of her. She just sat there, waiting for Mama to finally be satisfied. After tending to a few more spots in Jackie’s hair, she apparently decided that was good enough, and set the last wipe on the tray, before unlocking it, taking the tray to the trash to dump the used wipes, and then dropping the filthy tray into the sink for future washing. For her part, Jackie took the opportunity to stretch her arms and rotate her torso a little bit, pleased to finally have a bit more freedom of movement now that the tray that had limited her mobility for much of the last hour was no longer an obstacle. With the tray now gone, it would be possible to move her arms enough to reach the buttons at her sides and between her legs that held the strap around her legs and waist in place, but that would only cause trouble and Mama would be there to do that for her any second. As predicted, Mama returned right away, undoing the straps and just slightly pulling Jackie forward so that her knees now hung maybe six inches beyond the end of the seat. In a move both she and Jackie knew well, Mama slid her right arm into that gap, bent her knees, then powerfully boosted Jackie up off of the seat and onto her right hip. Instinctively, Jackie wrapped her arms around Mama’s neck and put her head over Mama’s shoulder, facing backwards, while also bringing her legs around Mama’s waist, both of which helped bring a sense of stability to the position for her and seemed to help Mama walk more naturally as well. She didn’t particularly relish being carried, but she was even less interested in falling, so once she’d been picked up she did what she could to prevent it. Once they were settled, Mama took off towards Jackie’s nursery. Her arm had naturally slid to the seat of Jackie’s diaper when Jackie wrapped her legs around her, which, combined with the wide angle of her legs, meant that the small bounce accompanying every step up the stairs smashed her mess a little further into previously unsullied areas of Jackie’s crotch. Quickly, they reached the nursery, and Mama seamlessly slid Jackie down to a standing position near the changing table. “Alright,” she said, deftly removing the party hat from Jackie’s head and setting it on the edge of the changing table. “Arms up please!” Jackie did as she was told, and Mama quickly circled around behind her, undid the zipper on her back, and pulled the short little dress she’d been wearing over her head, leaving Jackie naked except for her mittens, frilly ankle socks, and diaper. “Let’s see,” she mused quietly as she deposited the dress into the laundry hamper and went into Jackie’s closet to grab some pajamas. “Perfect.” Mama emerged holding a pink fleece footed sleeper, which would hardly have been Jackie’s first choice. Though the weather was getting a little cooler at night now, it was hardly enough to necessitate such warm pajamas, especially when she’d already be tightly wrapped in her blanket. Lighter layers didn’t help that much given the tight swaddle, but she’d still prefer them to the thick fleece that would only make getting comfortable that much trickier. Mama draped the sleeper over the side of the crib, then reached down to the bottom of the changing table and grabbed a diaper, unfurling it on the padded surface above. “Hop up!” she instructed Jackie. Jackie did so eagerly, not even caring about the awful squish that came when she enthusiastically plopped herself down on the top of the table. She’d been right all along - Mama really must have meant she wouldn’t be cleaning her face, but then got cold feet when she thought about the extra laundry. Thank god! Jackie laid back on the fresh diaper, knowing Mama liked to keep it there to help line up the next diaper to her body, and to catch any dribbles that unfortunately occasionally escaped during a change. Jackie always hated when that happened and she was denied even the few minutes she normally got in a completely dry diaper, but even if that happened it would be an incredible upgrade over what she’d expected just a minute ago. The powder or wipes container or something must have been empty, because Mama spent a little while longer than usual searching for something under the table when normally all the main supplies were right on hand on the table’s side. “Here we go,” Mama muttered, standing up before adding more loudly, “Hold still.” That was a slightly unusual admonition, but Jackie did so. Mama reached between her bent knees to undo the first tape, but instead of the telltale tearing sound, Jackie instead felt a slight pressure slightly lower, and then heard a puncturing sound. “Oh no!” she thought. With her head back she couldn’t quite see past her own breasts and the bulging thickness of the diaper, but she was suddenly sure Mama had told her to hold still because she was using a pair of scissors to slice little drainage slits into the shell of her diaper. She wasn’t getting a change at all - Mama was just preparing to double diaper her! “If I’d have known you’d be so worn out I would have added a booster so we could put you straight to bed,” she explained, confirming Jackie’s fears. “So we’ll just have to do two diapies instead!” Double diapers weren’t entirely unfamiliar, but Jackie was not subjected to them all that often. Her diapers were seemingly plenty thick and absorbent on their own, so Mama only resorted to doubling up maybe once a month. The reasons ranged from relatively defensible situations in which neither Mama nor Jackie would want to have to deal with a diaper change to more overtly cruel scenarios like this one. At least Jackie would likely not really need to go anywhere in this one - in her crib it wouldn’t really matter much that her legs were pushed even further apart, making even crawling more awkward. Since there was no cleanup or even powdering to be done, Mama was done adding the second diaper very quickly. Jackie was used to her snug diaperings, but she could have sworn Mama had pulled even tighter than usual, no doubt in an effort to further compound Jackie’s misery by wedging her poop even closer to her skin. Mama helped Jackie to a seated position on the table, then helped her slide off. Awkwardly, Jackie waddled over to the side of her crib, struggling with the thickness between her legs. Mama beat her there, grabbing the sleeper and unfurling it such that she could work it over Jackie’s feet and legs, and then pulled it up and guided Jackie’s mittened hands through the heavy sleeves. Finally, she pulled up the zipper, needing to pull the loose material towards herself in order to avoid getting stuck on the bulging mass of padding around Jackie’s waist. Mama turned around and grabbed a bottle off of the warmer that sat on the changing table, presumably having brought it up during the slightly extended period Jackie had spent stuck in her highchair between being fed dinner and subjected to her birthday cake. Holding Jackie’s hand, she slowly led her over to the large rocking chair in the corner. Sitting down, she helped Jackie lay down next to her and position her head on her lap. Though Mama’s thighs were pressed against each other, Jackie was still far more conscious of how close she was to Mama’s crotch than she would have been had Mama had even a skimpy pair of shorts on. Jackie’s nose had basically gone numb to the smell of her diaper, but now it was awoken by the lingering smells of the far more mature action that Mama had finished participating in just minutes ago. Fortunately, the bottle was brought to her lips without Mama doing anything to stretch out the moment. Jackie accepted it, happy enough to have something to wash away all of the lingering sweetness in her mouth even if it was baby formula. It certainly didn’t help with the tremendous fullness she was experiencing, but even water probably wouldn’t have been able to help much with that, and that was never an option anyways. It only took a few minutes for Jackie to slurp down her bottle, and when she’d finished, Mama pulled the bottle away and set it on the end table next to her. Jackie hoped that given Mama’s insistence that she needed to go to sleep so urgently that even a diaper change needed to wait, she might forgo the customary post-bottle burping, but unfortunately there was no such consistency. With the practice that came from years of doing this multiple times a day, Mama helped Jackie slide up and reposition herself onto Mama’s lap. While she was more kneeling than sitting, she’d been burped in dirty diapers more than enough times to know that the position gave Mama ample opportunity to employ either knee bounces or butt pats to further compound her messy misery. Sure enough, quite suddenly Mama’s right leg, conveniently the one Jackie was straddling, apparently became irrepressibly restless, bouncing high enough to inflict intermittent pressure on Jackie’s backside as she also patted Jackie’s back to bring out some burps. The bounces were pretty light, and the second diaper was thick enough to provide a bit of protection, but it was more than enough to make sure Jackie’s attention stayed squarely focused on her disgusting diapers. Even preoccupied, Jackie managed to generate a few burps quite quickly, and so while it felt longer to her, she was really only stuck on the receiving end of Mama’s bounces for about a minute. Once Mama was satisfied, she eased Jackie’s upper body off of her shoulder. Jackie knew this maneuver as well, and automatically pulled her right leg back and put her foot on the floor, leaving her left knee on the couch, which gave Mama the option to either carry her or otherwise direct her to either crawl or walk to their destination. This time, Mama stood and slid her hand into Jackie’s, wordlessly walking Jackie the couple steps to the crib. Arriving there, Jackie made sure to quickly climb up, knowing that if she dallied at all, Mama would help, and surely that would involve being forced to sit down on her full diaper one last time for the night. In a lot of ways it hardly mattered, since it would be hard to really make her backside meaningfully more messy, but years of learned self-preservation instincts told her to spare herself whenever possible, and so by quickly clamoring up she was able to have first contact with the firm mattress come from her hands and knees rather than her bottom. Jackie eased herself onto her side and then positioned herself on her back with her head on her pillow, centering herself on the blanket as Mama expected. “Good girl,” Mama said idly, taking the near side of the blanket and pulling it over Jackie’s body, tucking it under Jackie’s body at the shoulder, waist, and feet, effectively pinning it under Jackie. With practiced precision, she then grabbed the far side of the blanket and pulled it snugly over Jackie’s body using a little fold and tuck maneuver at the feet and an additional tuck at Jackie’s shoulder to effectively seal Jackie into a cocoon of warmth. Jackie could roll onto her side, but since Jackie’s arms started pinned tightly to her sides and her feet were held tightly together, she usually couldn’t really wriggle free even if the blankets were usually a bit looser in the morning than when she was out to bed. Mama turned quickly and opened a drawer under the surface of the changing table, pulled out a pacifier, and plopped it into Jackie’s mouth. In truth, Jackie was so used to having it in that sleeping without it might have proved kind of awkward. “Sleep tight, birthday girl,” Mama cooed, bending down and placing a patronizing smooch on Jackie’s forehead. “Hope you have sweet dreams about how good your birthday cake was! Or,” she said, dropping to a quieter, more conspiratorial tone, still with her face just inches from Jackie’s, “maybe you’ll dream about how much you wish you had mine.” She stood up, holding eye contact with a smug grin on her face as she pulled up the rail of the crib. “Night, night,” she said dismissively as she turned away, snapping off the light and closing the door behind her. Jackie took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t as the smell that she’d gone slightly nose-blind to assaulted her anew. She knew that by the time she woke up she’d barely smell herself, but also that every time she entered her room for the next couple days she’d get a little reminder of her ordeal. She wiggled a little, trying her best to stretch into as comfortable a position as possible given how restrictively she was swaddled. She’d been a side sleeper before all this, but that wasn’t as comfortable with her hands both down at her sides, and so she tended to sleep on her back these days. Once she was reasonably satisfied with her position, she did her best to hold still. Jackie wasn’t completely unfamiliar with trying to sleep in messy diapers, but it almost always was because something unfortunate happened sometime between being put to bed and morning. Being put down for a nap already poopy was a punishment Mama did use every once in a blue moon, though, and it gave her enough experience to know that if you could just hold still long enough to let your sleep routine take over, you could kind of succeed at ignoring the stickiness and the smell and eventually drift off. Still, though, it was hard not to focus on it when it was so absurdly unfair. Being sent to bed for a whole night of stinky slumber happened less than annually. Mama threatened it sometimes, but even she seemed to think it was a little too cruel to actually punish Jackie with it. Not for the first time, though, now that it was actually happening it was for something completely ridiculous. Maybe the frosting had been the plan all along. Jackie knew that if she asked for cake tomorrow (or really any other day of the year), the best she could hope for would be to be turned down without even a moment’s consideration, and yet somehow today her failure to eat enough cake for a small party was enough to merit a punishment this extreme? The whole thing felt like it was a set-up to remind Jackie that Mama could do whatever she wanted, even if Jackie still couldn’t really work out how Mama would have been able to tell she was about to poop herself. She hoped the frosting hadn’t been the plan all along, and the dirty diaper had just been a cruel little added bonus that Mama decided to use to her advantage - she’d hate to find out she’d been the architect of her own demise like that. Trying not to think about that problem, Jackie’s tiring mind drifted instead to Mama’s taunt on her way out of the room. Of course, if she had to choose between the two, Jackie would have preferred Mama’s evening to the one she was being subjected to, but Mama had driven her expectations so low that even just to have been allowed a normal sized piece of a cake (maybe with a fork, if she was getting really greedy) and a timely diaper change could have passed as an above average day. In typical Mama fashion, though, she’d found a way to make a day that should have celebrated her increasing maturity a particularly poignant example of how much of that she’d lost, all while also finding a way to viscerally illustrate to Jackie exactly what adult pleasures she was missing while she was stuck in a seemingly endless loop of being one again. She’d probably never even be able to look at cake as a welcome reprieve from her usual diet ever again, since at best she’d be reminded of this disaster and at worst she’d have to worry it might be repeated. As Mama’s taunting had made clear, it had definitely been a happier birthday for her than it had been for Jackie. Again.

This is a re-upload of a story I did not write. https://www.diaper-bois.com/stories/ryan-s-new-daddy/ Chapter 1 - One Confused Boy To say that Ryan Willis didn’t know quite what he was getting himself into was a massive understatement. Agreeing to surrender himself for an entire summer to the whims of a complete stranger is one thing, but when that person intends to treat you as his infant child for that time… well, you’d probably think you were completely fuckin’ bonkers as well, like he did. Some background information is probably necessary here. Ryan Willis was a pretty unassuming guy. Fairly freshly 18 and graduating high school; he was fairly popular, well-built from years of intensive hockey playing (the last year he spent as captain of the school’s team), and certainly no slouch in the looks department with his deep hazel eyes, fair features, and deep brown locks, always styled perfectly. Indeed, he had all the girls at school fawning after him. He got respectable grades that would have no trouble getting him into his college of choice, made no enemies, and was always home in time for tea. For all intents and purposes, Ryan was just a normal kid. But of course, as is typical for stories like these, he wasn’t. Ryan had a secret deep inside. Well, really, he had two secrets. The first; he was gay. A complete and utter raging homosexual. He’d had a girlfriend, sure, but him and Elise broke up a little while ago; thankfully before things got serious enough that his cover might be blown. Regardless, one thing was for sure: every time he ended up in the changing rooms after a sweaty game of hockey with his team was a massive struggle for dominance between his libido and his shame. All those rippling, hockey-player bodies, and the way they’d shower naked… Ryan had to start getting changed by himself after everyone had left by the end of it. They could never know; it was just how it had to be. No one could know, in fact; not his parents, not his younger sisters, not his friends, no one. He was Ryan Willis, star hockey player and future Harvard Law graduate, and he was expected to find himself a trophy wife and pop out a few kids in the future. He couldn’t fuck it up by being a faggot, as his dad would call him no doubt. But that was practically nothing compared to his other secret. See, not only was Ryan gay, but he was in what was called the ABDL community; specifically, he was what some termed a “teen baby”. Basically, Ryan enjoyed the idea of wearing diapers, playing with baby things, and being treated like an infant, preferably by an older, larger, stronger man. It was the cornerstone of his fantasies, and the thing he dreamed about every night he went to bed. In a way, ever since he got out of diapers, he’s dreamed of getting back into them. He’d spent countless hours in his teen years holed up in his room, door locked, jerking off over young guys in diapers and baby clothes, or reading stories about guys being forced into diapers by another man, always imagining himself in their place. Sure, he could get off over normal vanilla gay porn, and bottoming for another guy was something he desired too, but as soon as he threw diapers into the mix, his libido went nuts. Regardless, his fantasies always involved being dominated by an older man, a father figure as it were. It was nothing to do with his own father issues, or so he hoped. It was just how he was wired. In addition, he was a regular on all the usual ABDL haunts and forums. But this bummed Ryan out more often that it should - he saw all the guys his age freely wearing diapers and baby stuff and having people to change them and care for them, and though he always found it hot as hell, he couldn’t help but also feel intensely jealous. He knew he would never be able to get that. He was just too terrified that someone might recognise him on the internet, and his secret would be out, and his life would be over just like that. Being gay was one thing, but being a gay freak obsessed with diapers… He spared no expense in covering his tracks. He didn’t dare buy diapers or even training pants to live out his fantasies in real life, such was his fear of being caught. Bottles and pacifiers and the lot were out of the question as well. He even bought a second laptop, unbeknownst to the rest of his family, and used an anonymous browser on it to ensure that they could never find out. He brought the laptop out when he was sure no one was home, and went loose, but when he was done, or someone came home, he quickly locked it up and hid it underneath a loose floorboard under his bed. He had it all under lock; no one could find out. But this all led to Ryan feeling incredibly lonely. He knew that he wasn’t the only one with this weird fixation, but his paranoia meant he feared he’d probably never be able to actually experience his most desired fantasy. And of course, he was constantly racked with guilt, something that plagued practically everything ABDL in the course of their lifetime… the insistent, nagging thought that what you were doing, what you found enjoyable was actually a disgusting perversion, and only one degree of separation away from pedophilia. Of course it was ridiculous, he reasoned, but it didn’t really matter - if anyone found out, that’s exactly what they would think of him. However, everything changed in April of his senior year, not too long before graduation… Chapter 2 - Diaperlist It was a crisp, early Spring night, the sort you’d only ever get in good ol’ New England, when Ryan discovered Diaperlist. His parents were out for their anniversary dinner, and Jemma and Becca (his sisters) were out with their friends or boyfriends or whatever - he didn’t really care, all it meant for him was quality time alone with his fantasies. One of his closest teen baby friends (who lived on the other side of the country, a shame since he looked so cute in diapers) had posted a link on one of his favourite haunts, Teen Baby Hangout: “A cool new website I’ve developed. Sorta like Craigslist obviously, but just for us, so much less chance of us being found out. Plus it’s got a fully functional Facebook-esque messaging system, so you can shoot the shit before you decide if you wanna meet up for real. It’s invite only, so PM me for an invite if we’re friends. I wanna keep this safe, so I’ll only give you access if I fully trust you. And obviously, give out invites if you trust anyone else. I don’t really care if I offend anyone by not giving them an invite, security’s more important. I’ve posted this on all the other ABDL and fetish sites so it’s not just us. Otherwise, go crazy!! Meet all the ABDL/TBDL/whatever’s you’re legally entitled to in your home country or jurisdiction!” Intrigued, Ryan went to PM the guy, but he had already sent him an invite. Feeling rather touched at the thought, Ryan sent a “thank you” and signed up to the site. Already, there were a couple dozen posts, all sorted by geographical area. A handful in the UK, Canada, and other parts of Europe and Australia each, even one in Kyrgyzstan (poor dude), but naturally, the large majority were focused on the good ol’ US of A. Ryan’s heart skipped a beat when he saw that there were 5 listings for Massachusetts… and it caught up to speed again when he found out they were all for Boston. ‘Of course’, he reasoned. He probably wouldn’t know what to do if anyone in the Springfield, MA area actually wanted to meet up. Nonetheless, he looked at the listings for Boston, if only out of curiosity. They were all pretty much the same - “45yo Daddy looking for little girl to pamper ;)”. Very lovely, but hardly what he was looking for. And so, after that brief detour, Ryan’s “secret session”, as he called it, played out much like it normally did - he went on Tumblr, checked up on all his favourite blogs, had a good old-fashioned fap over one of the hotter diaper boys there, came, cleaned up, hid the evidence and went on with his life. “Hey Ryan!” a voice called out from outside his window, just as he placed the laptop under the floorboards. He just about leapt out of his skin. He didn’t even have any pants on! “Just a minute!” he said back, quickly throwing on a pair of raggy sweatpants. He went to the window and opened it to see his best friend, Jeremy Linnard, tossing rocks at his window. “Are you here to serenade me, Jeremy?” Ryan said jokingly. “I have a confession to make, Ryan,” Jeremy said in a faux-dramatic fashion. With a flourish, he mimed producing flowers and said in a dovey voice, “I… l-love you…” “Fuck off, ya faggot,” Ryan laughed, tossing his rocks back at him. Jeremy laughed as well, dodging his shots (or at least trying to). God, if only Jeremy knew. “Alright, alright, you wanna go bowling? Me and Sarah were bored and she’s fetching all her girl friends. Cynthia’s gonna be there too, big boy…” Oh right, Ryan thought. Her. See, in Ryan’s usual attempts to assert his masculinity and obvious heterosexuality, he had to pretend that he was interested in a girl. And so, choosing completely at random, he picked Cynthia to be his fake object of affection, a fairly plain but agreeable girl, not unattractive by any means. ‘Dammit,’ he thought to himself, ‘shoulda picked someone totally impossible.’ Not like that was easy, though - every goddamn girl in school would’ve probably dropped their pants for him in a heartbeat. “Sure, sure,” Ryan said. “Just gimme a minute.” Chucking on whatever was at the bottom of his clean clothes hamper (thanks ma!), Ryan went bowling with his best friend. He coolly played hard-to-get with Cynthia, which was really quite easy since he genuinely wasn’t interested, but it wasn’t as suspicious as outright turning her down. When he got back, his parents and sisters were home, so he couldn’t allow himself another secret session, to his dismay. He went to bed that night thinking about Diaperlist, however. He wondered if this might be his way to finally meet someone who was like him. Maybe when he went to Harvard in the fall, he could meet a friend… a “big bro”, or something. Or even a Daddy…? No, that was ridiculous. Just a fantasy, he reasoned. Something that could not happen. Friends, probably. But he couldn’t count on his deepest, dearest fantasy coming true just like that. And so, Ryan went on about his life. School, hockey, friends, secret sessions, sleep, rinse, repeat. Every now and then, he’d check up on Diaperlist, just to remind him of what might happen some day. He saw listings come and go day by day. Sometimes he’d check other areas, just to see what others were posting. He saw listings like “19yo smooth baby boy looking for Daddy” (same here pal), “mommy looking for obedient boy for kinky humiliating fun” (close, not quite), “60yo luvvving generou$$$ daddy after teen girl to spoil and pamper” (uhh)… But ultimately, it was what kept him going through his finals - the knowledge that getting through, and making it into college would enable him to get a good career and all, sure, but also give him an excuse to get away from home and maybe meet someone who understood. Well, fate sure did a number on him one particularly humid night about a month later. Ryan was stripped down to just a tank top, getting ready to fap away as usual. He logged onto Diaperlist, went to the Massachusetts section and read the listing at the top of the page, only posted three hours ago. “43yo, Springfield MA - dominant Daddy looking for <20yo fully submissive little boy. READ FIRST.” Ryan just about leapt out of his skin when he read that headline. Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? Nope, he pinched himself and he definitely wasn’t dreaming. That was really what it said. His heart was racing when he finally built up the courage to click and read the profile. “I’m a well-off semi-retired professional in the southern MA area. Looking for a cute, healthy, toned and FULLY submissive boy (no exceptions for any of those) under the age of 20 who is interested in becoming my baby boy. Message me if interested. Must provide pics.” That was it. Ryan was dumbstruck, but more than that, he was hard as a rock. Was this for real?! He didn’t know what the hell to do. Jesus Christ. He resolved to message him anyway, even if he hardly planned on actually meeting him. Maybe he could just entertain the fantasy for fapping fodder. It was sure making him horny as fuck just thinking about it, anyway. He opened the message tab and started typing, one-handed of course. >Hey there, I’m baby_ryry as you probably notice. I’m interested. Tell me more about what you would do to me. Send. He waited for a reply. Didn’t take long; under a minute in fact. Heart pounding, he opened it. >>I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. Damn it. He wanted a pic. Ryan scoured his school’s website for the hockey team photos. He found a decent one of him, topless even, celebrating their victory earlier this year. He cropped his face out of it, and sent it off. >Here you go 😉 [photo attached] >>Nice pic… >>But that’s not quite what I want. Face pic. Shit. He really wanted to know what he would do to him. It’s like when you’re really goddamn horny and you find the perfect porn (or the perfect diaper picture set, in Ryan’s case), but it’s behind a paywall and you can’t find it anywhere else. You either cum quickly and get over it, or you submit to your horny desires and pay up. Unsurprisingly, Ryan chose the latter in this case. A few naughty selfies later, he sent them off to the mysterious man online. Pretty cute as well; Ryan had a fairly youthful face, so it lent itself well to a childish pout, especially with his naked butt sticking right up in the air. “I’ll save that for some porn Tumblrs,” he said to himself. Pause. Then a notification sound. >>Adorable boy. >>Tell me more about yourself. The long game, Ryan smirked to himself. Fair enough. >My name’s Ryan. I’m 18, turning 19 next January. I’m going to Harvard in the fall after I graduate high school to study English. I play hockey, and well, I guess you could say I’m a real teen baby, obviously haha. Smooth, Ryan thought to himself. He was reminded of those icebreaker games you had to play at a new job or school or something, where you say something interesting about yourself but you just can’t think of anything at all to say. >>Very nice. >>Would you like to know what I’d do to you? Aw yeah. This was what he wanted. >Yes please. >>I would make you mine. >>I would be strict, dominant and very controlling; but that’s what is needed. >>You will obey everything I tell you to do, wear anything that I dress you in, play with whatever I give you to play with, and submit to your Daddy’s every whim. >>You will not protest, or talk back. >>You will do this, because that’s what you are. >>You are just a helpless little baby. >>And babies, especially baby boys, need structure, discipline and routine. >>They need to depend on their Daddy for everything - changing, bathing, feeding. >>And they need to be punished when they’re naughty babies who disobey their Daddy. >>And when they’re good babies who make Daddy proud, they will be rewarded. >>But most of all, they need love. And that is what I would give you. >>I will love you like any good Daddy loves their precious little boy. >>All I ask is that you submit your entire self to my authority. Ryan was so incredibly aroused by this. He had to slow down to stop himself from cumming, he was just so close. And then another message. >>What are you doing now? >At home, chilling. >Why? ‘A great liar I am’, Ryan smirked >>You should come over. >>[location shared] Oh Jesus. This guy was serious. Ryan’s heart was pounding again. He looked at the map that was shared. It was in a fairly small township about 50 minutes away from Springfield; fairly rich and full of yuppies. He looked to his side table, where he kept his car keys. What if… >But what will happen? >>Why don’t you come over and find out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! FUUUUUCK! Far too quickly, Ryan ejaculated harder than he had done in months. He shot himself in the eye even, making himself jump. His heart pounding, and his body still spasming slightly, the message box was still there, flashing with the new message. Ah, damnit. He shouldn’t have said anything. Now he’s gonna have to let him down easy. He tried to think of an excuse. >Sorry, I can’t tonight. Just thought I’d say hi. I’m super busy with study for finals and graduation. ‘That sounded so flaky,’ Ryan thought. Ping. >>That’s a shame. But I understand. >Thanks for understanding! No reply. Guess he blew it. Chapter 3 - The Offer After that, the mysterious man seemed to go quiet. In fact, he didn’t even come online. A week later, Ryan logged in again, nervous to see if he had any new messages… but he didn’t. He checked the listing again - still up. “Last online: 1 week ago”. Weird. Did Ryan’s flakiness make him give up on his search? Or maybe he actually found someone willing to go through with it… lucky bastard, in that case. Once again, he settled into a routine… one that was swiftly shaken up when finals came round for real. Reluctantly, he had to put his secret sessions on hold for a while so he could concentrate on cramming for tests. Mom helped out a lot by baking him some good old fashioned nerve-calming Russian fudge (thanks ma) and Dad helped by… well, being Dad, which is to say he didn’t really help. Great. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the man. He didn’t even get to see his face. What if he wasn’t even real, Ryan thought…? Just some sick pervo wanting to trap someone and murder them? …or a cop trying to catch perverts? What on Earth would the cop do when an actual 18-year-old kid turned up? More than anything though, Ryan couldn’t stop thinking, “What if he was for real? What if I had actually gone round there, and let him have his way with me? What if he… diapered me?” Every time he jerked off before he went to sleep, he couldn’t stop kicking himself, wishing he really had just gone round. But after he came, he would always remember his family. How would he explain where he had gone? “Hey sorry Mom and Dad, I just popped out to meet a complete stranger who’s twice my age so he could put me in diapers and treat me like a fuckin’ toddler.” It was never meant to happen. Finally, after a week and a half of sleepless nights, crying over incomprehensible notes, and general procrastination, Ryan made it through finals alive and well. Graduation would come in a few weeks, and the after-party of course. But what Ryan was looking forward to most of all was his first secret session in about a month. God, he was backed up. The next morning, Mom and Dad left for work, and the girls went out shopping or something, he didn’t care. They barely left the driveway before Ryan had his laptop (and his dick) out, eager for some good old-fashioned infantilist fappage. But first, as per routine, he checked the Diaperlist. The listing was gone. Ryan sighed. Too good to be true. He probably found someone else. He went to close the tab, and then… Ping. >>Hello there. It was him. Ryan didn’t know what to say. >Hi x That little kiss at the end; always smooth. >>Your finals are all over now, aren’t they? >Yup! Sure are, thank God 😛 >>That’s good. I suppose graduation’s not far behind either. >Absolutely. >>Well then, I have something to ask you. Ryan’s heart was practically leaping out of his chest. Was he going to ask him to come over again? >>Actually, it’s more of an offer. >What is it? >>I want you to come and stay with me and be my baby boy for two weeks over summer break. Ryan stopped dead in his tracks. His first, primal gut instinct was to smash “YES!” into the keyboard and race right over. But his second thought was, “What the hell.” >Are you serious? >>100%. >What do you mean? >>Simple. >>You will live in my house, obey all of my rules, and call me Daddy. >>You will be under my authority 24/7 for the entire stay, no exceptions. >>If you want to leave at any time, you can. I do have rules for you to follow, and some are quite strict. >>But I will provide you a warm, caring and loving environment for you to simply be yourself in. >>You will receive nourishing, nutritious meals, and provided with ample entertainment. >>You can live your wildest baby fantasy without any fear of judgement. >>Because your Daddy will be right here to change you if needed. Oh my God. This was for real. This man was genuinely offering Ryan a chance to live out his ultimate fantasy. But of course, reality kicked in. >I need to make money over summer. I can’t not work for two weeks. >>I can compensate you for any lost income. >>I am retired early, but I am very well-off. >>This means I can devote myself entirely to your care. 24/7. ‘Don’t tempt me!’ Ryan snapped. >What about my friends and family? >>That’s up to you. >>It’s only two weeks after all, I’m sure they’ll cope. >>And that’s my offer. >>Take it or leave it. Ryan’s head was spinning. In fact, the worst part was that he was already thinking of an excuse to tell his parents! He couldn’t possibly do this. No, he just couldn’t. No! It’s not happening. >I’ll think about it. >>Of course. Just let me know. Ryan couldn’t even concentrate on jerking off. He paced the room, trying to calm down. On the one hand, he thought about how boring it would be to just be a baby for two weeks. But then, of course, he realised that it would actually be the most exciting, erotic thing he could ever imagine. And really, what else would he do over summer? Watch TV and jerk off? While that sounds nice, it’s not exciting like being someone’s baby boy for a few weeks. He could just tell his parents that he and his friends were going on a cross-country road trip to Miami for two weeks. That’s the sort of spontaneous thing he and his friends would probably do. And… uh, he could just tell his friends that he and his family were going on a cross-country road trip to Colorado. That’s the sort of spontaneous thing he and his family would probably do. They would believe it. He could get away with it… Fuck! He can’t possibly be entertaining this thought. Nope, he can’t do it. That’s it. He’s just gonna have to tell the man, “Thanks but no thanks”. Yep, that’s what he’s gonna do. >Yes. I’ll do it. >>Good. >>I will arrange a time for you to come after graduation. >>We will sort details out then. >One more question. >>What is it, little boy? >What’s your name? >>It doesn’t matter. All I am is “Daddy” to you for these two weeks. >>Let your friends and family know now, okay? >Yes. >>Yes, what? >Yes Daddy. >>Good boy. Chapter 4 - Graduation Ryan had been having dreams about being put into diapers and cradled by a loving, muscular beefy man for years, and now it was going to happen any day now. He really couldn’t believe what he was doing. He even convinced the skeptical part of his mind to go along with it - if he didn’t like what was happening, he could just call it quits, like the man said. And it was only two weeks after all. If he turns up and it’s just some weirdo, he could ditch it. He’s a strong boy, he can hold his own if need be. The man… “Daddy” didn’t message him again leading up to graduation. He did say that he would wait until after graduation, but Ryan would have at least appreciated some acknowledgement. The first night, Ryan stayed up all night in bed, tossing and turning, thinking about what he just agreed to. Mostly, though, he was thinking of the best way to lie to his parents and his friends; rehearsing it in his head. "Mom, Dad… me and my best friends are going on a road trip to celebrate our last grasp of freedom before adulthood ties us down forever. I know this might be shocking to you, but we really need it. We might never see each other again. I love you both. Please accept this. I’ll see you guys when we get back, in two weeks.” The next day, he went down for breakfast and saw his Mom and Dad getting ready for work. They smiled when he walked in; well, Mom did anyway. “Hi sweety, you’re up early!” “Y-yyeah, hey guys, s-so…” Jesus, Ryan, calm yourself. “M-me and the guys are gonna go on a trip-- road trip…” “Oh yeah? Sounds cool. When will you be back?” “Uh… two weeks?” “Aw okay, hun. I hope you have fun. When do you leave?” “Uh… sometime next week after graduation on Friday?” “Well, be safe. I’ll pack you some stuff if you need it.” Mom kissed him on the cheek before she and Dad left for work. …That was easy. “Hey Jeremy,” Ryan said on the phone to his best friend, “Me and the folks are going on a road trip to Colorado for two weeks after graduation, cos they wanna spend some time with me before I leave Mom forever and ever.” “Aww sucks dude, was gonna go on a road trip to Miami with ya if you were interested!” “Well… I might, if I decide to bail on them. I’ll let ya know. Otherwise if you don’t hear from me, I’m in Colorado!” Jesus, this was easier than expected. Graduation rolled around, and the after-party soon followed. Even though he had a raging hangover, on Saturday morning Ryan still raced home as soon as he recovered enough to not puke his guts out at the slightest sign of light. The girls were home, but he was too impatient to wait. He just locked his door and retrieved his laptop. One new message. Just like clockwork. >>On Monday, at 9am sharp, you will go to Vienna Cafe in the city. I will meet you there. >>You will not need to pack anything other than the clothes on your back. >>From there, I will take you back to my house, where you will be living. >>I will have everything that you need for the entire time you’re here. >>Do you understand? >Yes daddy. >>Good boy. I will send a copy of the rules that you will be living under later tonight. >>I have two more requests for now, though. >>Firstly, I want you to abstain from masturbating until you have come here. >>Can you do that for me? Ryan was so incredibly aroused - he wanted dearly to jerk one off right there. But he figured that whatever “Daddy” had in store for him, it was clearly worth it. >Yes daddy. >>Secondly, I want you to shave yourself. >>Not your head, just your facial hair and everything below that. >>This is the only time you’ll need to do this. >>Do you understand? >Yes daddy. >>Good boy. “You better be worth it,” Ryan said to himself. Later that night, sure enough, a PDF document came through. >BABY RYAN’S RULES >Daddy’s word is final. >Daddy will be addressed as Daddy, and nothing else. >If Baby Ryan is a naughty boy and disobeys Daddy, he will be punished. >If Baby Ryan is a good boy and obeys Daddy, he will be rewarded. >Daddy has the authority to alter the rules as he sees fit without notice. >Daddy’s word is final. Ryan was almost disappointed at how vague and brief it was. He was expecting something with more detail… but this meant it left much more to Ryan’s imagination, which he actually found hotter than anything. Sunday came round quicker than Ryan anticipated - one day to go, and then he would move in with the strange man he was now required to call “Daddy”. Out of sheer curiosity, he made an impulsive decision to go and scope out the address he’d been provided upon first contact with “Daddy”. Driving down the street, he found himself in a leafy, fairly wealthy neighbourhood - the sort you’d want to raise your kids in. He stopped right opposite the address he’d been given. It was an impressive, old-fashioned two-storey white home, with a large stone fence and iron gate, well-maintained green lawn, and a two-car garage. The house looked freshly painted, well-maintained and generally welcoming. Something in one of the upstairs windows caught his eye… he could’ve sworn he caught a glimpse of the familiar bars that signified a crib… and was that silhouette a teddy bear? Suddenly, a figure walked past the window, and stopped. Ryan leapt into action and immediately sped off, not looking back. His mom was suddenly much more emotional about Ryan disappearing for the summer, which made him feel quite a bit guilty, especially since he was being so dishonest about the ordeal. But he knew he couldn’t really justify backing out now; even if he wanted to. At dinner, she burst into tears and wouldn’t stop hugging him before he went to bed. He felt babied, and not in the way that he liked (thanks ma). It’s not like he was disappearing for good. He lay in bed that night, thinking what on Earth he had gotten himself into. He looked at the clock. 12:30 AM. In just under nine hours, he would be under the complete control of someone he had never even met before in his life. And he couldn’t be any more excited. It was surprising that Ryan managed to sleep at all that night, but indeed he did. He had a lot of peculiar dreams that night and some he remembered more than others: one dream he was sleeping in a crib, a usual fantasy of his; another he dreamt of a large, beefy man holding him and feeding him a bottle; and another, he was trapped in a massive, cage-like crib, unable to escape… Beep beep beep. 8:00 AM. Time to get up. Chapter 5 - Meeting Daddy Ryan was in a daze as he showered and dressed for the fateful meeting. He went through his clothes, wondering what he would possibly wear - “Not that it really matters,” he reasoned with himself, “You’re probably gonna get changed into something else straight away anyway.” He went with a fairly innocuous pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Not daring to look back or think twice, he left. It was a clear, crisp morning, so he resolved to walk. And it was a brief walk - much too soon, he found himself on the corner of Vienna Street, with the Vienna Cafe in sight. Ryan’s heart was pounding so hard and fast, he might have been in danger of collapsing right there. He checked his watch. 8:50 AM. This was it. He walked past the cafe three or four times before he built up the confidence to walk in. And when he did… it was empty. Weird. They only just opened, clearly, so he ordered a coffee and sat at a table by the window. He checked his phone, which read 8:59 AM, and then he almost jumped when a tall, muscular figure passed by the window and went straight into the cafe. Ryan couldn’t suppress a gasp when the man walked in, and looked straight at him. He was well-built, of course; quite beefy and clearly strong. He was wearing a plain button-up shirt which was unbuttoned slightly to reveal his hairy, rock-hard chest, and was tucked into a pair of tight slacks that certainly accentuated his crotch well. His sleeves were rolled up, putting his muscular, hairy arms on display. But Ryan was more drawn towards his face - he had a decent amount of facial hair, but not exactly a full-on beard, just enough stubble to let you know who was the man of the house. His dark hair was speckled with gray spots, the only thing betraying his age. And yet, it was his face that was the most striking feature of all… he had a gentle, warm face which filled Ryan with a similarly warm feeling inside… it was incredibly peculiar, and even more so considering Ryan was now staring at this strange man for about ten seconds. What could he say - he just oozed authority. The man beamed widely, and walked over. “Well well well,” he said in a calm, warm voice that put Ryan off guard. “You must be Ryan.” Ryan laughed nervously. “Yup, that I am. And you are…?” The man chuckled, making Ryan feel that much more nervous again. “Well, you know who I am.” Ryan stared at the floor, unable to quite make eye contact with the man… “Daddy”, yet. “I’ve gotta finish this coffee,” Ryan said hastily. “That’s OK, baby, I can wait. But we’ve got to get going soon.” Ryan looked around anxiously in case anyone heard him call him “baby”. “Don’t be embarrassed, little Ryan,” he laughed. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.” “I have to tell you something,” Ryan blurted out before he could stop himself. “What is it?” “Uh… this is kinda my… well… first… anything.” “You mean you’ve never worn diapers before?” Ryan flinched at the d-word. He never even dared say it out loud himself. And yet, here was this burly, intimidating man using it freely in front of him. “Y-yeah… or, y’know, been with another man…” “Is that so?” he cocked an eyebrow, smiling again. “Yup…” Ryan was sure getting a great view of his shoelaces here. “Well, you do understand what I’m going to do to you, don’t you? You know that I will be putting you back in diapers? And that you will be my baby boy?” Ryan was flushing with embarrassment, but he silently nodded. “Look at me and say so.” Ryan looked up and made eye contact with him. His eyes were warm and loving, sure, but his face was hard and authoritarian. Not the sort of person you wanted to mess with at any rate. “Y-yes.” “Yes, what?” “…” “Say it.” “…Yes, Daddy.” Immediately after saying that, Ryan’s cock (which had been more or less inert since waking up) sprang to attention. He blushed even further at that. “Daddy” seemed to notice and smiled widely again. “Don’t get too excited now,” he chuckled. “We’ve still got to get you home and settled in now.” Ryan laughed nervously, and returned to looking at his feet. “Well, we should get going now.” Ryan was frozen. He acknowledged the man’s words, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Frankly, he probably just wasn’t ready to go yet. “Daddy” seemed to notice. “Let me just lay everything out on the table here,” he said, his face softening and allowing a smile. "I might have been a bit vague, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. But I should clear a few things up anyway, just so we’re both on the same page. I’m sure you’ve read things on the internet about “babies” and their “daddies”. Well, in case you haven’t already realised… I’m not like those other daddies. I’m not going to just put you in diapers and change you, although that will certainly be a major aspect of our relationship. "You will need to submit yourself entirely to my control. You’re going to fed by me, bathed by me. I will choose what you wear, and you will wear it, no questions asked. You will eat and drink what I feed you, no questions asked. And yes, you will be diapered 24/7. But ultimately, above all else, you will be my baby boy. Not just my boy, who’s dressed like a baby… my baby boy. You will need to forget who you are. You won’t be Ryan Willis, high school graduate, star athlete and future college student. You will just be Baby Ryan, Daddy’s good little baby boy; and nothing more. And I mean 24/7… there will not be any breaks or moments to breathe; no safe words. You live under my roof, you’re my baby. "I know I sound like I’m repeating myself now, but I just really want you to fully understand what I’m offering. And I understand that’s an immense commitment to make. So if you’re having any second thoughts now, this is your chance to turn back and go home. But that’s it; the offer’s off the table. I don’t deal with second chances or boys who don’t know what they want. I want you to be absolutely certain with regards to what you want. Same goes for the other option - if you come with me, there’s no turning back. You commit to this, and you commit entirely for these two weeks. “So, little guy, that’s my final offer. You can go home and back to your life as Ryan Willis, the closeted, suppressed college student unable to express his desires, doomed to a life of pent-up urges he might never be able to fully indulge in. Or… you can come with me, and be my Baby Ryan. And I know it’s what you want, what you desire with every inch of your being. You wouldn’t have gone to my house yesterday if you didn’t.” Ryan blushed profusely at this. "Nonetheless, it’s your decision. Two weeks of bliss.” Strangely enough, the first thought that entered Ryan’s head was, “Man, this must be the weirdest conversation to ever take place in this coffee shop.” And then, all at once, Ryan’s mind began racing at a million miles per hour. He was, indeed, having second thoughts now that he really thought about it. Planning this whole thing in his mind and imagining all the situations he would get into was one thing, but now he was here, with the man who wanted to baby him standing right in front of him. Ryan truthfully didn’t quite prepare for how serious “Daddy” was about this. Playing baby was something Ryan obviously wanted… but by the sounds of it, “Daddy” didn’t just want Ryan to pretend to be his baby, he wanted Ryan to BE his baby. It was intense, it was scary… and Ryan couldn’t think of anything more amazing. And now he had to choose between getting into “Daddy”'s car, or going home. “No turning back”, though? Ryan thought he said he could opt out at any time if he wa– “Well, if you don’t want to come, that’s fine. I’ll see you later, baby Ryan.” The man left. He was about to open his car door and hop in, no doubt to drive off and never be seen again, when he looked back at the coffee shop to see Ryan, standing by the car. He silent. He looked “Daddy” in the eye, and slowly nodded. The man smiled. “That’s my boy.” Chapter 6 - The Nursery “Woah, little guy, let Daddy help you there.” Ryan was taken aback when he went to open the passenger door - he barely even touched the door handle before “Daddy” interjected. He almost went to say, “No, it’s fine,” before he remembered himself. “Daddy” came round to the other side and opened the door for him. A lump formed in Ryan’s throat when he saw that the passenger seat was occupied by… a booster seat. A fairly large one, clearly custom-made for larger kids. Suddenly, Daddy clasped Ryan’s shoulder with his right hand; his grip was very firm. Ryan looked at him, and he motioned his head as if to say, “Go on, then”. Ryan wasn’t quite prepared for the baby thing to start so soon; he thought it would at least wait until they got back to his house. But Daddy looked pretty serious, so Ryan reluctantly climbed into the padded seat. Immediately, once he was in, Daddy strapped him in - it was one of those straps that crosses from all four sides, and buckles in the center. It was certainly tight, and in fact, Ryan could’ve sworn that he heard a clicking sound, like a lock, when Daddy finished buckled him in, and closed the door. This was it. “Alright then baby, let’s go home.” The drive went by rather quickly. The radio played quietly in the background, but otherwise, it was fairly silent. Ryan was too nervous to think of anything to say that wasn’t just awkward small talk, so he stayed quiet. Every now and then he’d look at the man and think to himself, “That’s my Daddy”. Just a few weeks ago, he thought the idea of having a Daddy was in the farthest realms of pure fantasy, and now here he was, locked into a baby’s carseat and at the mercy of a man almost twice his age. And he absolutely loved it - he was still rock hard, and the added tightness of the straps pressing up against his crotch only made him hornier. Every now and then, Daddy would catch him staring, and Ryan would look away, blushing. Then the man would beam that oddly comforting smile of his, and he’d feel a bit better. And then his dick would throb, and he’d blush again. Finally, they pulled into his driveway. Daddy released him from his carseat, and guided him inside. Ryan looked outside, at his one last gasp of freedom, before taking a deep breath and stepping inside. Daddy closed the door and locked it behind him. “Take your shoes off.” Ryan looked around the foyer - it was light and airy, with polished wooden floors and attractive paintings adorning the walls. To his immediate left was a staircase, and he could see into the big, open lounge area to his right (with a piano, large dining table, and other grand furniture suitable for someone with a sizable income), but otherwise, there wasn’t much to see. And Ryan was only interested in one particular room, obviously. “Would you like to see your new room?” Oh how overjoyed Ryan was to hear those words. Daddy took Ryan’s hand, as usual in a firm but not painful grip, and guided him upstairs. He walked past multiple rooms, no doubt bedrooms, being led to the door at the very end of the hallway. Ryan simply couldn’t suppress a smile when he saw the words “Baby Ryan’s Nursery” adorning a sign designed with baby blocks hanging on the door. Daddy unlocked the door (quite a hefty lock on it as well, Ryan noted) and took him inside. Ryan might have been smiling before, but now his jaw simply dropped. The room was quite large; about twice the size of his room, he wagered. But it wasn’t really the size of the room that took his breath away, of course, it was the contents. And what contents! The room was painted in whites and soft baby blues, with the odd pastel yellow or green thrown in here and there for good measure. The walls were adorned with images of famous children’s cartoon characters like Elmo (lots of Elmo), Blue from Blues Clues, and the Teletubbies. The carpet was a soft, fleecy white with a multitude of baby toys scattered about… blocks, cars, rattles, teething rings, and even a big rocking horse to the side. A toybox in the corner no doubt contained a multitude of other toys to play with. A massive brown teddy bear sat in the corner by the window, and a few other plush toys were scattered about as well. A rocking chair sat next to the big bear, and on the other side of it, a massive padded changing table, with shelves underneath stacked high with what was the unmistakeable sight of (Ryan’s heart lept with excitement) large disposable diapers, a few fluffy white cloth ones and plastic pants, in addition to the usual diaper changing supplies - powder, baby wipes, etc. A stack of shelves next to the table was stacked with pacifiers and bottles. The wardrobe door was ajar, enough that Ryan could catch a brief glimpse of what was inside - he saw a pair of white footed pajamas with what appeared to be cute little pictures of teddy bears and rattles on it. A big TV sat to the side of the room, hidden behind the open door. A full length mirror hung on the other side of the door. Sunlight spilled into the room, aided by the big, airy windows that overlooked the street below. And completing the scene, the words “Baby Ryan” adorned the wall above the changing table, matching the sign on the door in big baby block letters. But what easily dominated the room was the huge, white crib sat right beside the window (decorated with Winnie-the-Pooh curtains, of course). The bars were down, ready for its new occupant. There was even a cute plush rabbit waiting inside. In short, the nursery was everything Ryan had dreamed of, and more. Everything was perfectly re-scaled for a boy of Ryan’s size, but all without sacrificing the infantile nature of the objects inside. Make no mistake, this was not a room for a young adult; it was a room for babies who just happened to be teen-sized. Ryan was an expert on adult baby supplies, having spent hours staring wistfully at websites that he thought he’d never be able to sample; and there were things in this room that he never even thought existed in such large sizes. Clearly Daddy had gone out of his way to customise everything to perfection. Never in his wildest dreams would he fathom a room as wonderful as this; and now it would be his room for the next two weeks. Naturally, Ryan was in awe at the sight. He took in every single detail, constantly reminding himself that no, he wasn’t dreaming, and yes, this was really the room he would now call home for two weeks. He sniffed; and he was suddenly transported back to visiting his Aunt Jemima as a child who had a one-year-old daughter, his cousin Janine… it was the sweet, gentle scent of baby powder. Ryan breathed it in further; he’d never smelt something so sweet. Daddy was watching him this whole time, smiling as his baby boy took in the sights and smells. Ryan eventually realised that he was doing so, and blushed. Daddy clasped an arm on his shoulder. “Well, let’s get started.” Immediately, Daddy seized Ryan and lifted him into the air with extraordinary ease. Ryan was so taken by surprise his instinctive reaction was to struggle, but it did no good; Daddy was simply too strong. He carried Ryan over to the rocking chair and sat down in it, forcing Ryan over his lap, his butt sticking out most prominently. Ryan breathed heavily, no longer knowing what was going to happen next. “Well, this is just no good,” Daddy tutted, “the naughty baby thinks he’s more grown up than he really is. Look how silly he looks in these grown-up clothes, he’s not fooling anyone. I think it’s time Daddy taught him a little lesson.” Chapter 7- Back to Basics Without warning, Daddy roughly ripped Ryan’s pants off and tossed them aside, exposing Ryan’s plain white briefs (Ryan’s preferred underwear, as they were the closest things to diapers he could really get), which he then pulled down to expose his naked butt. Ryan realised what was coming, and started to grow nervous. A spanking? This wasn’t part of the plan… Ryan squirmed uncomfortably, but Daddy’s vice-like grip meant he was going nowhere. “Wait, I don’t think I’m r–” Ryan was swiftly silenced when a sharp slap came across his butt cheeks. He yelped in pain, but barely had time to catch his breath before another came. And another. And another. Ryan hadn’t been spanked since he was 4 years old, but the experience was no less humiliating at 18 years old. In fact, obviously, it was much more degrading and painful than he remembered. After what felt like an eternity, but was really more like about a minute, Daddy stopped spanking. He rubbed Ryan’s bright red stinging bottom, and then let his finger linger on his pink hole, teasing it thoroughly, and slipping a finger inside to explore. Ryan just about yelped. “Such a smooth, round bottom… my baby boy’s going to look just precious in his new diapers.” Ryan’s heart jump-started once again. He knew what was about to happen. He’d been dreaming and fantasising about it ever since he got out of them in the first place, but now it was a reality - he was about to be put back in diapers. The man held Ryan in a firm grasp and brought him over to the changing table. He was laid out on the padded surface gently, and the burly man went about gathering supplies. Ryan wriggled experimentally; the soft padding crinkled slightly. A real-life changing table, all right. He felt so exposed, lying butt naked at the mercy of this total stranger, and his bottom still stung quite a bit from the spanking. Another crinkling sound filled Ryan’s ears, but it wasn’t the changing table; the man had retrieved one of the large, thick diapers and presented it to him. Ryan got a close-up look of his new underwear. They were pearly white, plastic, and the front featured little pictures of teddy bears and stars, much like a real baby’s diaper. But, of course, these were much larger than a normal baby’s diaper, and they appeared to be much thicker. In fact, Ryan realised they looked even a bit thicker than the usual diapers tailor-made for ABDLs, and those were specifically optimised for maximum thickness. It was the most beautiful thing Ryan had ever seen, and his eyes (and dick) widened in anticipation. Daddy looked down at Ryan’s erect member, and Ryan blushed. “Well well,” he chuckled, “Looks like someone’s excited for his new diapie! Better get it on you so we don’t have any little accidents.” With one swift move, he grabbed Ryan’s ankles and lifted his butt high up in the air. Ryan was taken aback by this sudden movement; he’d never been so easily manhandled before, and the man seemed to be doing it with such little effort, as if he was setting to work on a real little baby. He had unfolded the diaper and used this opportunity to slide it under Ryan’s butt, and then lowered him back down onto it. Then came the wipes - of course Ryan didn’t really need it, since he wasn’t wet (yet…) but this was a Daddy who liked to keep up appearances. Ryan flinched as the cold, damp wipe was dragged across his crotch. Noticing his excitement, Daddy paid extra attention to Ryan’s throbbing boner, grabbing it with the wipe and giving it a few gentle strokes. Ryan was just about to burst when Daddy immediately stopped, denying him the satisfaction of a good climax. Ryan’s initial gut reaction was frustration, followed by an even more intense wave of excitement. He was lifted into the air again, held up by his ankles in one hand while the other hand busied itself wiping Ryan’s butt down. Freshly wiped, Daddy moved onto the next stage: a bottle of Johnson & Johnson’s baby powder. With a few generous puffs, the sweet aroma of the talcum powder filled Ryan’s nostrils, and he breathed in the wonderful smell deeply. Daddy applied a liberal amount of powder, making sure every nook and cranny was covered. And now, the final coup-de-grace - Daddy grabbed the diaper and pulled it up through Ryan’s legs, meeting the tapes at his hips and taping it up tightly and securely. He made sure it was fitted as snugly and securely to him as possible, before standing back to admire his handiwork. “There… that’s much better than those silly big boy pants. How does baby like his new diapers?” Ryan looked down, his heart pounding with euphoria, to see his crotch now encased in a thick white mass. They really were thick - Ryan brought his legs together experimentally, and found he could no longer touch his knees together, as the sheer bulk forced his legs apart. He also noted the crinkling sound that accompanied even the slightest of movements - he touched the front, and rubbed it a little bit. Crinkle crinkle. He could barely even feel his penis underneath the thick layer of plastic padding; an impressive feat considering how rock-hard it was. When he touched his dick, Daddy immediately took his hand and gave it a sharp slap, giving Ryan a considerable fright. Ryan looked up at him, looking almost offended, but withered against Daddy’s dead-serious face. He was in trouble. “Naughty baby! You don’t touch your diaper or your private parts. That’s Daddy’s territory. If you’re a very good boy, I might let you have some fun, but you have to earn that privilege. Understand?” Ryan realised what he was doing; orgasm denial. It took second-stage to his babying fantasies, but Ryan did always find the idea of only being allowed to cum when his Daddy gave him permission to do so, kinda hot. He nodded silently, and when he was given another insistent look, added, “Yes Daddy.” “Good boy! Now sit up for Daddy.” Ryan moved himself into a sitting position (crinkle crinkle… God, he could never tire of that wonderful sound) and waited. He wondered how ridiculous he might have looked to anyone else right now - this well-toned 18-year-old guy in a massive baby’s diaper. At least Janine wasn’t here; she’d have a field day. Daddy had gone to the wardrobe, and ruffled through a few items before saying, “Aaaah,” this will look just precious with your new diapers," he cooed. He returned to Ryan’s side, holding a baby blue T-shirt with a pastel yellow pocket complete with a little picture of Winnie-the-Pooh on the front, and light purple sleeves, with a white collar. It was the most babyish, adorable T-shirt Ryan had ever seen. “Arms up!” Ryan did so, and the shirt was promptly thrust through his arms, and pulled down. Ryan looked down and noticed that the shirt stopped just centimetres of the top of the diaper’s waistband, not even pretending to cover it up in any way, exposing it for any and all to see. “I would’ve dressed you in some shortalls or a onesie, but your new diapers look just so precious on you, I just have to show them off this time! What do you think, Baby Ryan? I think you look super handsome.” Ryan nodded in agreement. “One more thing,” Daddy said, turning his attention to the shelves beside the changing table. “Now you’ve been a very good boy, not crying or throwing a tantrum for Daddy, but I think we’d better give you your paci for now, just in case.” Daddy returned with a large yellow Winnie-the-Pooh pacifier, matching the pocket on his shirt. He pressed the large rubber nipple gently against Ryan’s lips, causing him to open them and accept the pacifier. The nipple was really quite big, and filled Ryan’s mouth causing his cheeks to puff out just a bit. He gave it an appreciative suckle, making Daddy beam widely. “I bet you’re a hungry little tyke now, aren’t you?” Almost on cue, Ryan’s stomach rumbled in agreement. He couldn’t help but smile behind the pacifier at it, and kept sucking away happily. Daddy picked Ryan up by the armpits once again, as effortlessly as ever, and set him down on the soft carpeted floor, adding, “Well, you just wait here for a little bit while Daddy fixes you a nice, yummy bottle of milk.” He gave Ryan a crinkly pat on the bottom, making him blush a little bit, before heading down to the kitchen. Chapter 8 - Bottle Time! Ryan sat on the floor motionless for a few moments, dumbstruck that this was really happening to him. He gazed around the room once more, drinking in the sights, before resting on the “Baby Ryan” sign above the changing table. “Baby Ryan,” he said out loud to no one in particular, forgetting for a second that his pacifier was in his mouth and startling himself with his muffled voice. It was a cute name all right. He shifted a bit, the crinkling sound bringing him back to the fact that yes, he was wearing a diaper - a proper, thick baby’s diaper. It was an odd feeling having so much padding around your crotch, but it was surprisingly comfortable. The plastic front was so shiny and reflective, Ryan could almost see his reflection when he gazed down at it. He poked and prodded it some more just so he could hear that wonderfully babyish crinkling noise, opening and closing his legs, sniffing it to get more of that sweet powder smell. He rubbed it again. And again. And again. And again… ‘Whoops,’ he thought to himself when he realised he was getting a bit carried away with his vigorous rubbing. He decided he’d better distract himself; didn’t want to get on Daddy’s bad side too quickly. Besides, he didn’t wanna just blow his load straight away, when there was still so much more to come. ‘Heh, come.’ Ryan was nothing if not a true comedian when no one was around to hear his wisdom. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the mirror. He realised he hadn’t actually seen his reflection yet, so he shuffled on over to that on his knees. When he saw himself, he couldn’t suppress a gasp. He looked so positively infantile he couldn’t believe it. The T-shirt, the massive diaper, the pacifier making his face look all pouty and adorable… He sucked on it for a while, watching himself do so. He turned around to look at his behind; his butt never looked so puffy. Ryan had spent countless times staring at himself in the mirror imagining himself in diapers and baby clothes; but now he didn’t have to imagine it anymore, it was really happening. It still felt so surreal, like a lucid dream. He patted his big butt curiously, much like Daddy had done before. They somehow looked even thicker in the mirror, and Ryan simply couldn’t help but blush from embarrassment, even if no one at all was around to see him in that moment. There was still that part of him that knew he should probably feel ashamed, but right now, his acute embarrassment only made his dick strain even harder against its tight plastic padding. Ryan sat in front of the mirror for a few minutes longer, transfixed by his new outfit, before Daddy came stomping back up the stairs. He returned with a few bottles full of milk in his arms, setting them down on a table by the rocking chair and turning to Ryan. “Goodness me,” he said with a chuckle, “Baby sure seems to love his new diapers!” Ryan blushed again and looked down with a nervous smile. “Don’t be embarrassed, tiger. You’ll be wearing them for a while now, so you might as well get used to them! Now come on, it’s time for a nice baba. Doesn’t that sound nice?” Ryan was lifted up and carried over to the rocking chair. Daddy got comfortable in the big chair, sitting Ryan so that he was cradled in his arms securely. It was incredibly intimate - Ryan could almost hear his heartbeat, and his warm, fuzzy arms held him tightly, making him feel very safe. Ryan was starting to feel very peaceful - he figured he was entering his “little space” he always read about online, for the very first time. He started gently, rhythmically sucking on his pacifier as he snuggled up to Daddy. Daddy lifted Ryan’s head a little, before grabbing the bottle. He removed the pacifier from his lips, before gently replacing it with the large nipple of the bottle, and Ryan continued sucking. It took a little while to get the hang of drinking from a bottle, but eventually he got it down pat, and the milk began to flow steadily down his throat as he kept rhythmically sucking away and Daddy began rocking gently. The milk was rather warm, and tasted a bit sweet; not your usual milk. Ryan wondered to himself for a bit what exactly was in the milk - he detected a slight tinge of something medicinal. But the drink overall tasted so good, and it made him feel very warm and calm inside. The combination of the calming milk, the gentle, hypnotic sucking action of being bottlefed, and being held so tightly and warmly in Daddy’s arms as he gently rocked made Ryan feel so incredibly peaceful, and he closed his eyes. All his doubts and inhibitions and feelings of shame about being treated like an infant simply melted away, allowing him to simply lose himself in a state of infantile bliss. All that mattered in this moment was the yummy taste of the warm milk. A few minutes later, Ryan finished the bottle. He felt very satisfied, almost groggy even from the mixture. He opened his eyes to see Daddy putting the empty bottle to the side and immediately grabbing another. “Round two,” Ryan thought to himself as the second bottle was pushed into his mouth, and he resumed his suckling and returned to his babyish haze. By the end of this second bottle, Ryan was starting to feel full. In fact, he could feel his belly beginning to swell out just a bit from the amount of fluids he was being fed. Daddy grabbed the third bottle, and Ryan started to feel a bit nervous. He was full by now, sure, but that wasn’t all - the coffee from earlier had also worked its way through his system by now, and he felt a quickly onsetting urge to pee. He squirmed uncomfortably while Daddy fed him the last of his third helping, knowing that he needed to go fairly soon. By now, his tummy was pudging out quite a bit, full of the yummy, unusual milk. “One more,” Daddy said cheerfully, probably noting Ryan’s uncomfortable expressions. He knew he was going to wet himself, but his subconscious was fighting dearly against it, and winning. Ryan almost wanted to just lose control and wet helplessly, but he knew 17 years of potty training weren’t just going to go away like that. And, if he thought about it, it would be better if it didn’t - this whole thing wasn’t going to be permanent after all, and he needed to get back to a life after it. But he could worry about that after his bottle. Ryan was positively bloated after one last bottle of milk, and then Daddy sits up, throwing Ryan over his shoulder in a tight bear hug. Ryan almost hugs him back, thinking it to be just an expression of intimacy and fatherly love, but when Daddy starts roughly patting him on the back, he gives himself a small jump when he burps loudly. Ryan blushed again at his rude utterance, and Daddy stuck his pacifier straight back into his mouth. “Playtime!” He said chirpily. Chapter 9 - Play Time! Most 18-year-olds might scoff at the idea of spending their morning playing with blocks and toy cars, but Ryan was no ordinary 18-year-old; right now, that sounded like the perfect way to spend a morning after being changed into a diaper and bottlefed some delicious milk. Daddy seemed to have started off with bottlefeeding to get Ryan into the perfect babyish headspace from the get-go, and boy did it work. Sucking away happily on his pacifier (he could really get used to this, it was quite soothing), Ryan lost himself in his inner child and built towers out of blocks, grabbing the cars and sending them crashing to the ground as he rammed the cars into them. Daddy watched him, grinning from ear to ear as he observed the teenager slipping so easily into his newfound infantile role. He really did choose the perfect boy. Ryan was amazed at how entertaining this could be - an hour later, he was still playing… but more urgent matters were demanding his attention. The need to pee had grown more and more urgent with every passing minute, and Ryan even went to go to the toilet once or twice before he realised himself. He tried to wet himself, but he just couldn’t even force himself to do it - there was, unfortunately, some sort of mental roadblock preventing him from engaging in such an obviously infantile act. “Alright, baby, Daddy has things to attend to, but he’ll be back super soon, okay?” Ryan was disappointed that Daddy was leaving so soon, but he gave him a hug and Daddy gave him a little peck on the cheek (causing Ryan to blush a little) and was left to his own devices. Now on his own, Ryan became a little self-conscious again. When Daddy was playing with him and encouraging him, he didn’t mind acting so infantile, but now his inner monologue wasn’t drowned out by Daddy’s encouraging and gentle words, and it let him know how ridiculous he really looked. Ryan blushed a little again. He looked over to the mirror, and caught sight of him sucking unconsciously on the pacifier, and spat it out immediately in embarrassment. Ryan was a little concerned about how easily he seemed to be slipping into his newfound babyhood. He’d read a million stories about this - the naive young man put back into diapers and babied to the point of losing his mind and turning into a real baby. Of course those stories were mostly just thinly disguised fap material, but he still didn’t want to get too lost in it - who knows what could happen? But he had other matters to attend to right now, like the sudden return of his need to pee, stronger than ever. “All you have to do is let go and pee,” Ryan said in his mind. “Just let go, wet yourself.” Ryan looked down again at the thick padding bunched between his smooth, youthful thighs. He spent his entire adolescence fantasising of wetting a diaper, but now he couldn’t even bring himself to do it; it seemed his pride was just getting in the way. Frankly, the whole experience was tainted now. He wanted out. Daddy… the man, was still gone. Ryan knew he would be disappointed that he got cold feet, and he himself was disappointed to lose this opportunity, but Ryan just couldn’t justify carrying this charade on anymore. Like, what was he thinking? He knew he couldn’t really just get away with disappearing an entire summer. And his parents would likely find out about his secret, and then what would he do? He just had to wait for him to return and break the news. Minutes passed, though, and he still hadn’t returned. Now the urge was to pee grew painful, and Ryan was worried. What was he doing? Ryan couldn’t wait anymore. He had to go and find him. He went to stand up… …and stumbled, landing flat on his stomach. He gave himself such a fright, his bladder immediately let go and flooded his diaper. The crotch grew warm and damp as it expanded with the urine being released into it. Ryan got back onto his knees and touched the front of the diaper, still somewhat paralysed with the surprise of it. The diaper was now soggy and damp, and squelched instead of crinkled. He really did it. Ryan wet his diaper, and really it was actually somewhat of an accident. Almost immediately after, Ryan heard the distant stomp of footsteps coming closer. The man was returning. “Hello baby, I’m back,” he beamed before noticing Ryan looking down at the ground. “Is something wrong?” Ryan could finally tell him the bad news, that he was having second thoughts and wanted to leave… “I wet my diaper. Could you change me… Daddy?” Chapter 10 - Messy Time? It was a strange series of events that ultimately led to the captain of the hockey team and one of the most popular jocks in school to be laid down on a padded changing table to have his puffy wet diaper changed by a man he’d never met until today - that same man he now called his Daddy - while he sucked placidly on a bottle of juice. Ryan was thinking deep about the situation now. He’d very seriously intended on bailing on the whole charade, right up until Daddy walked back in. For some reason, as soon as he walked in, Ryan’s will just melted away. It seemed like even if he wanted to get out, he couldn’t bring himself to tell Daddy… the man… Daddy. And frankly, right now he didn’t really want to. Daddy had cooed to him after realising he was wet, praising him for being a good little boy and using his diapers just like he was meant to. It was a little embarrassing but still made him all warm and fuzzy inside. He had gently laid him out on the changing table and untaped the sodden garment, and was now wiping him down lovingly, giving Ryan yet another surprise boner. Stopping just short of climax once again, to Ryan’s building frustration, he instead went to wiping down his bottom. Ryan was lost in the ecstasy of the moment as Daddy caressed his smooth bottom… and then yelped in shock when he shoved something straight up his hole. It seemed like just his finger at first, but Ryan could’ve sworn there was still something there when he retracted his finger and, oddly, taped the wet diaper back up. That was odd. Why did he go to all that trouble just to wipe him down a little bit and put him back in the same diaper? Daddy blew a raspberry on Ryan’s stomach, making him squirm and giggle a little bit, completely pushing the diaper situation out of his mind. Ryan finished the bottle just as Daddy picked him up again and brought him over to the rocking chair. Ryan sat in Daddy’s lap while he fussed over his new baby boy, stroking his hair and patting his soggy bottom. Ryan blushed and smiled, quickly learning to grow out of his embarrassment over being coddled and babied. About a minute or so later, Ryan’s tummy started to feel funny. He thought it was just a bit of gas, and he farted loudly, giggling at Daddy’s feigned shock reaction. But it kept gurgling away, and Ryan realised with slowly creeping dread that the urge to poop was growing with unsettling speed. He looked at Daddy, who kept smiling. “Uh… I have to go poop,” Ryan said, blushing profusely. “Yeah?” Daddy cocked an eyebrow knowingly. “Well, what are we gonna do about that, little man?” “Well, uh… could you take my diaper off so I can go to the, uh, potty? …Please?” Daddy chuckled, pinched Ryan’s cheek and said, “Silly baby! Little boys in diapers don’t use the potty, remember? They do all their business in their diapers!” “Wh-what? But I don’t wanna mess… I don’t like it, this wasn’t part of the de—“ Ryan was swiftly silenced by a sharp smack on the thigh. “You will use your diapers as fully intended, baby! And yes, that does include going poopy! The only time I will ever take off your diapers is when I’m changing you into a fresh one, or when it’s bath time! If you ever try and hold off from messing, I’ll know, and I’ll give you something so you don’t have any choice. Just like the suppository I gave you just before.” Ryan started to get very uncomfortable. He really didn’t want to mess; as much as he always liked the idea of it, the current reality of actually soiling himself was a bit too intense. Admittedly, not as intense as the ever-growing urge to let go. He started to squirm in discomfort, and Daddy held him tightly, whispering in his ear. “Shhh… it’s okay, baby. Don’t worry. It’s coming, so just sit still for Daddy and let it happen.” Intense stomach cramps, wave after wave, hit Ryan and he started moaning in discomfort. Just as the urge disappeared, it immediately came rushing back harder and more intense than ever. Daddy just held him tightly in his arms, gently reassuring him and rubbing his back soothingly. “It’ll be over soon, baby boy… shhh… just let it happen!” Ryan couldn’t even struggle against Daddy’s iron grip, and could only whimper as he tried to put up a fight against his ever-weakening bowel muscles. Eventually, Ryan finally farted like he had never done before, followed by another big, slightly runny fart, and finally, all at once, a hot rush of mushy, warm poo completely filled into his diaper and smeared all over his bottom and even up his crotch. Ryan was in shock. He had never even crapped himself as a child, but now here he was, the high school graduate in a completely soiled diaper. Daddy released Ryan from his grip, still patting his back. “There there, little man…” he gently whispered. “All better?” Ryan was petrified with shock, unable to muster the ability to speak at all let alone reply to him, so he just nodded without making a sound. “Good boy. And stinky boy for sure! Big poopies for such a little guy, guess you really do need these big thick diapers, huh?” Daddy beamed and patted Ryan’s bottom, mushing it about even more and making him squirm in discomfort. Ryan was genuinely humiliated, and Daddy noticed. “Aww… is widdle Ryan embarrassed about his stinky winkies? It’s OK to make poopies, little guy! That’s why Daddy keeps you in diapers, after all. Daddy thinks you need a change though. Don’t you agree?” Ryan nodded again, still too humiliated to speak. “Hmm, I’m not sure… you need to ask Daddy nicely.” Ryan swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat. “Wil-will you change me please?” He received a sharp slap on the thigh for that. “That’s not how little babies ask for their diapies to be changed! You need to tell daddy what you’ve done, and ask him very nicely to help.” Ryan blushed furiously, harder than ever. He put on a babyish tone and slowly said, “Daddy… I made poopies in my diapee… Can you change me… pwease?” Daddy pinched Ryan’s cheek and gave him a few good bounces on the knee, smushing the mess about again. “Good baby!” He exclaimed. “Time for a change.” Chapter 11 - A Change Well Earned Ryan was in something of a state of shock as Daddy carried him gently over to the changing table. He couldn’t quite believe that he had really done that; just completely soiled himself, let alone in front of another person. He was petrified with humiliation and felt incredibly babyish, much like he did being bottle fed earlier. But this wasn’t the soothing, innocent babyish feeling like that one; Ryan felt completely helpless and at his Daddy’s mercy as he was gingerly laid down onto the table. This, he realised, was the reality of being a baby: complete and utter powerlessness over yourself. Ryan was brought back to reality as his soiled diapered butt made contact with the table. He was blushing furiously, and must’ve looked as if he was ready to cry or something as Daddy pushed his pacifier between his lips. Ryan gladly accepted it and placidly sucked while Daddy set to work untaping his diaper. Daddy exclaimed as the offensive bundle was released from Ryan’s side and the smell escaped. “Goodness me, Ryan, you are definitely a stinky baby huh?” Ryan could only blush and close his eyes as he sucked harder on the pacifier, trying hard to distract himself. Daddy just smiled at Ryan’s embarrassment as he started wiping his messy bottom down. “Don’t be embarrassed, tiger. Babies don’t need to use the potty after all. It’s OK to make poopies in your diapies. We’ll have lots more smelly diapers to come, don’t you worry. You’ll get used to it.” Funnily enough, despite (or maybe because of) Ryan’s intense humiliation, he was now completely rock-hard. Daddy noticed, and teased him a little bit by stroking his cock a little bit. He stopped before Ryan could climax, making him huff in frustration. Daddy grinned at this outburst. “Aww, I’m sorry baby, did you wanna cum? Poor baby. Daddy’s gotta make sure you aren’t naughty and playing with yourself. So if you’re a good boy, he might let you cum.” Ryan got the gist. As long as he didn’t act up or protest or resist, he would eventually get his reward. Daddy finished cleaning Ryan’s poopy butt off, and got him all nice and clean and taped up into a dry, clean new diaper. Daddy sat him up, patted his crinkly bottom and said, “Now there’s a happy baby. All cleaned up and changed into a nice clean diaper. What do you say?” “Fankyoo Daddy,” Ryan said, forgetting about the pacifier in his mouth that garbled his speech. Daddy chuckled as Ryan blushed. “I think it’s about lunch time!” Chapter 12 - A Nutritious Lunch Over the past few hours Ryan had been through so much in the name of babying that compared to shitting his diaper, being fed lunch wasn’t really anything at all to him. Daddy picked Ryan up and threw him over his shoulder with ease as he carried him downstairs to the kitchen, one hand cheerfully patting his diapered bum. A big highchair sat by the table where a normal chair might sit, complete with a “seat belt” strap in the seat and wrist restraints. Thankfully Daddy didn’t strap Ryan’s arms into those, but he did strap him into the seat before sliding the tray into place. Noticing Ryan’s concerned face at the wrist straps, Daddy said, “Those are only for naughty babies who make a fuss at mealtime. But you’re a good baby, right Ryan?” He nodded. Daddy set to work preparing Ryan’s lunch. He couldn’t see what he was preparing, but it smelled… Interesting. A few minutes later, Daddy came over with a big yellow Winnie-the-Pooh bib to tie around Ryan’s neck, before setting down a bowl of steaming mush. “Ready for num nums?” Daddy asked. Almost as if on cue, Ryan’s tummy rumbled audibly. He blushed as Daddy took his paci out and grabbed a spoonful of mush. “Here comes the Choo-Choo train!” Ryan didn’t really know how to react, so he didn’t open his mouth in time before the spoon collided with his lips, smushing the spoonful on his chin. “Silly baby,” Daddy chuckled, “Open wide now!” Ryan opened up and let the spoon fill his mouth. He gagged a little at the taste - mashed carrot. He couldn’t help but dribble a little bit more onto his bib. He felt, and no doubt in his mind looked absolutely ridiculous. But before he could even finish swallowing, Daddy had another spoonful on its way. Daddy fed Ryan at this speed throughout, ensuring that he couldn’t quite stop himself from missing or making a mess every now and then. Daddy retrieved a second bowl, this time of mashed apple, and repeated the process. Ryan was pretty full by the end of it, and an absolute mess - face, chin and bib covered in mushy baby food. But before Ryan was released, Daddy gave him one more bottle of milk, which he eagerly lapped down. Daddy finally wiped Ryan’s face clean with his bib, before releasing him and burping him again. Ryan was feeling positively blissful. After a somewhat traumatic experience in messing his diaper, he was now fed, burped and feeling really quite sleepy. Daddy picked up on this. “Hmm, baby’s getting sleepy huh? I think widdle Ryan needs a nap. Come on, daddy’ll put you down in your crib.” Putting his paci back in his mouth, Ryan placidly sucked as Daddy took him upstairs and laid him down in the big, cosy crib. Daddy pulled the curtains shut, and gave Ryan a cute teddy to cuddle while he tucked him in. “Sleep tight my beautiful baby boy,” Daddy whispered lovingly. “You’re going to love it here.” With a kiss on the forehead, Daddy raised the side of the crib and locked it into place, before turning on the stars and planets that hung over Ryan’s head making them spin. He locked the door behind him. Ryan was in bliss. He felt so light and fluffy, watching the stars spin as his eyes felt heavier and heavier. Before he fell asleep totally, he felt another urge to pee. But to his surprise, he found he could just let go and flood his diaper again, feeling the crinkly plastic grow warm and expand with his sogginess. Ryan smiled as he sucked his paci and closed his eyes, drifting peacefully off to a dreamless sleep. This was perfect. Chapter 13 - Lessons Learned Ryan learned a lot of things over that next week or so, living with Daddy. Lesson Number 1: life as a baby is very routine. After the first day, Daddy had quickly settled Ryan into a very consistent and repetitive daily routine. He’d wake up around 7.30, waiting for Daddy to come greet him before taking him downstairs for a spoon fed breakfast in his highchair (usually oatmeal and a bottle of milk). Following that, Daddy would take Ryan up for a diaper change into his outfit for the day - sometimes a cute onesie, a pair of shortalls, even just a T-shirt sometimes, but always with a thick, crinkly diaper around his waist. Then it was playtime for a few hours; he’d play with the toys and blocks and cars, which Daddy occasionally played along with, or if he was extra good he could watch some Teletubbies or Barney on the TV. Then it’d be lunch in the highchair around 12 or 1, followed by a nap in the crib for an hour or so. After his nap, Ryan would play for a bit more until dinner, followed by a bath, one last bottle and bedtime at 7pm sharp. Throughout the day there would be at least 3 or 4 wet diaper changes (and usually at least one messy one too), and playtime was occasionally interrupted for a bottle in daddy’s lap. This leads into Lesson Number 2: it was pretty easy to slip into the baby role once you stopped getting so embarrassed about it. Ryan was a mess of embarrassment and shame on his first day as a baby. But once he realised that no one here was going to judge him in any way, he was able to just lose himself in his newfound infancy and enjoy the complete lack of worry and responsibility that life as an infant enabled. He could play with the trucks and blocks as much as he pleased and he didn’t have to worry about school, work, money, parents, anything. Hell, he didn’t even have to worry about wiping his own ass anymore. After a few days, Daddy let Ryan cum too. But the catch was, since he wasn’t allowed to touch his diaper, he had to hump himself to climax. Ryan was so backed up that it still didn’t take long for him to absolutely explode, and Daddy praised him, reminding him that as long as he’s good and Daddy doesn’t have to punish him, he can do that again very soon. And once he got over that embarrassment hurdle, inhabiting the mind space was also easy. He grew to love the soothing rhythm of sucking on a bottle of milk. He could just let go into his diaper knowing Daddy would always be there to clean him up afterward. Even the TV shows were really entertaining once you stop caring about how old you supposedly “really” are. Life as a baby was pretty sweet. Except when it wasn’t, which brings Ryan to Lesson Number 3: being a baby kinda sucks sometimes. First of all, babies do kinda lead boring lives. They watch simple TV shows, and play with simple toys, and always need to be cared for and kept safe at every moment. There’s no excitement or risk; the biggest thrill ride of the day was if Ryan got to watch two episodes of Dora the Explorer instead of one. And the routine was repetitive sometimes to the point of mind numbing. Ryan had to struggle to remember what day it was, because they all blurred into one. Not to mention all the rules he had to follow and privileges he was no longer allowed. He wasn’t allowed to talk like a “big boy”, as Daddy said, and although he was warned at first if he didn’t talk in a sufficiently babyish manner, eventually Daddy would spank him every time and make him keep his pacifier in his mouth for a few hours. It wasn’t the only thing that would earn Ryan a spanking now either; refusing food, standing up instead of crawling, playing with himself, resisting a diaper change or doing anything that wasn’t totally consistent with a baby’s mindset was severely punished. And because Ryan inevitably slipped up at least once a day, it meant that since the first time he came, he had yet to earn the privilege again a week later. He was so frustrated but even trying to touch himself only meant he had to wait longer still. His least favourite punishment came about because he wouldn’t stop touching himself - Daddy put his hands in super thick white mittens that stopped him from being able to even play with his toys, let alone play with himself. He felt impossibly infantile with them, and vowed never to touch himself for the rest of the stay if that was the punishment. And there were countless other things about adult life that Ryan never even thought about until he was no longer permitted them. His diet now consisted solely of spoonfed mushy baby food and bottles of either juice or daddy’s specially made milk, and he certainly was never allowed to feed himself. The early bedtimes were also kind of a drag, especially since the sun would still peek through the curtains in the evening as he was tucked into his crib. Even Daddy was kinda getting to him in a way; he was intent on making sure Ryan knew he was the baby in this situation, so he always talked to him as if he were talking to a one-year-old. He never called him just Ryan; it was always ‘baby Ryan’, or even just ‘baby’ or ‘little man’. The lamest thing about being a baby was the complete lack of privacy it now meant. Daddy had complete authority over every single aspect of Ryan’s life now - he controlled when and what he ate, what he did, what he wore, when he slept, even what he said. Ryan had no independence or control over himself whatsoever. He was truly as helpless and dependent as a little baby. But it was easy enough to just lose yourself in the baby life. In fact, this led Ryan to the final Lesson, Number 4: it was kinda too easy to lose yourself in the baby life. Daddy was very intent on Ryan being dependent on his diapers for all his needs - he fed him lots of bottles to make sure he was constantly taking in fluids and thus constantly wetting. Even worse, he gave Ryan more than a few more suppositories after the first one to get him messing with ease. And they both worked with almost frightening effectiveness - Ryan didn’t even need to force himself to wet within a few days as he’d just let go and start peeing, and by the 6th day he just had to push a little bit before he found himself sitting in a messy smelly diaper. By the 9th day, Ryan started waking up soaked with no memory of wetting in the night. By that next afternoon, he was playing with his trucks when he felt his diaper suddenly growing warm as he wet himself unknowingly. Ryan was increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that he seemed to be losing control of his bodily functions against his will. But it wasn’t just his toilet training that seemed to be reversing. With all the forced pacifier use as punishment for big boy talk, Ryan started to really get fixated on it. He really did enjoy just sucking on it, and it was the best way to calm down if he was upset after a punishment. Once or twice, when it wasn’t nearby, he would instead start sucking on his thumb subconsciously. The baby treatment had physical implications too. The diet of baby food and milk meant Ryan’s messes became runnier and easier to just let go. And the diet combined with the lack of physical stimulation meant Ryan’s ripped chest and stomach had already started to devolve into a slightly chubbier build. He’d need to hit the gym big time at the end of this, he noted. No doubt a significant time on a diet like this would weaken him beyond help. Most of all though, Ryan was just bored with the routine. Daddy could tell. Ryan needed some excitement. So on the 13th day of his stay, Daddy got up extra early to prepare for Ryan’s big day. He packed a big Winnie-the-Pooh bag full of powder, wipes, an outfit change, a bottle, paci, bib, and a few diapers of course. All ready for his day out. Chapter 14 - A Grand Day Out Ryan stirred as the sunlight streamed in through the bars of the crib. Opening his eyes, he adjusted to the sight of his nursery he had grown so accustomed to over the past 13 days. He moaned behind his pacifier and grabbed Robbie, his favourite rabbit plushie. His diaper felt incredibly damp and saggy between his legs. It was a fantastic feeling, even if concerning that bed wetting was now a very real thing for him. He was rock hard but didn’t dare even hump the crib without daddy’s permission. Another day locked in mittens didn’t sound pleasant in any way whatsoever. Nonetheless, the blue onesie (complete with tiny little bottles and teddies all over!) strained against the heavy diaper, pressing it tight against Ryan’s crotch. At least it felt good. Daddy came in right on schedule. “Rise and shine my baby boy, time for num nums!” Ryan rolled over and couldn’t help but smile up at Daddy. For all of his strictness and control, he was always loving and cheerful… At least when Ryan wasn’t being punished, that is. “How’s my baby doing this morning? Hmm, soaked as usual… But at least you’re not leaky today!” Ryan blushed. Yesterday morning he was so wet that he had actually leaked through his diaper and soaked his sheets. Daddy wasn’t mad at him, but he did say that if it happened again, Ryan would need to wear double thick diapers to bed from now on. The diapers he already wore were thick enough without extra layers, so he was quietly grateful he didn’t have to endure that, and grateful his bed wetting wasn’t quite at crisis mode… Yet. Daddy lowered the crib side and picked Ryan up over his shoulder to carry him downstairs. He set him up in the highchair and strapped him in, pottering about preparing breakfast. Ryan was grateful not to have his arms strapped down this time - Daddy had done so three days ago, when he had earned his hands in mittens. That wasn’t a fun day. Bib around his neck and paci out, Daddy set to work feeding Ryan his breakfast. Oatmeal was on the menu today, and as usual Daddy somehow seemed to make sure Ryan still ended up with mush over his face, chin and bib. While Ryan sucked on his usual morning milk, Daddy sat down to his own breakfast - bacon and eggs on toast. It had been so long since he’d had solid foods, Ryan had almost forgotten what it tastes like. Two weeks on a diet of mush meant he didn’t really notice the taste anymore, but he still missed big boy food. He was grateful then that his time was almost over. The bottle finished, Daddy cleaned Ryan up and burped him, before carrying him upstairs again to get ready for the day. “Big day for you today, little guy!” Daddy said as he laid Ryan down on the changing table. He untapped the sodden garment and wiped Ryan’s damp crotch down as usual… But instead of taping another thick diaper around his waist, Daddy slid a pair of white briefs through Ryan’s feet and up around his waist. What was going on? “Daddy has some errands that he needs to do today. Normally I’d get a babysitter for you, but it’s not possible at such short notice, so instead you’ll be coming with me today! Are you ready to be a big boy just for today, baby?” Ryan flushed with nerves. He was anxious about anyone seeing him in this state… But, he reasoned, at least Daddy wasn’t making him go out diapered. And it’s not like he had anything resembling a choice these days anyway. Daddy dressed Ryan up in a light blue polo shirt, khaki shorts, and sneakers with ankle socks. He looked a bit like an overgrown child, but he supposed at least that was better than an overgrown baby. Ryan was strapped into the car seat again, but that wasn’t so bad. If he knew what was coming for him on his outing with Daddy, however, he might’ve just preferred the mittens at home. Chapter 15 - Big Boy Denied If Ryan thought that just because Daddy dressed him as a somewhat more mature kid rather than a complete infant, that meant he would be treating him as more of an equal… Well, he was sorely mistaken. As soon as Daddy pulled into the parking lot of the mall and unbuckled him from his car seat, Ryan was made to hold Daddy’s hand wherever they went, from the bank to the hardware store. Since Daddy looked old enough to be Ryan’s actual father, it made at least a few people do a double take and raise an eyebrow at the late teenager in the juvenile outfit holding the older mans hand. But to Ryan’s moderate relief, most people didn’t really look twice. It felt really weird to be walking around in normal underwear again. Ryan was now so used to having a thick layer of crinkly plastic padding encasing his crotch 24/7 that he felt oddly naked in just the thin white cotton briefs. Not to mention the baby talk which still didn’t quite relent much at all; Daddy still talked to Ryan as if he was really a toddler. “You want a lollipop, little guy?” He asked while they were in line at the pharmacy. Ryan nodded, blushing since there were definitely other people in earshot. “And one lollipop for my special little guy!” He exclaimed once they reached the counter. The cashier smiled tentatively at Ryan, who avoided eye contact. “Ryan loves lollipops, don’t you? Here you go, little guy. What do you say?” Not even daring to look up, Ryan muttered, “Thank you.” Daddy looked sternly at him while squeezing his hand and said, “I think you can do better than that, Ryan. Say thank you to the nice lady for your lollipop.” Ryan blushed a furious red as he looked up and made eye contact with the still-smiling woman and said in a slightly shaking voice, “Thank you for the lollipop. Daddy just tutted. “Kids,” he said to the cashier with a chuckle. She laughed in response, but was clearly very bemused by the entire situation. Ryan popped the lollipop into his mouth to distract himself from the embarrassment, especially since everyone behind them in line was now staring. He really quite enjoyed the lollipop a surprising amount; probably because it reminded him of his paci which he found himself craving a lot. “Okay tiger, we’ve just gotta stop in at the grocery store and then we’ll get you some McDonald’s for being such a good boy today!” Ryan beamed with happiness - finally some food that wasn’t just mush! Before they went into the store, Daddy grabbed a large bag from the backseat and put it around his shoulder. Ryan knew not to question daddy so he said nothing. Daddy led him by the hand again into the store. It was around the dairy aisle that the cramps started to hit Ryan. It was nearly 11am - around this time every day he would have his morning mess, and the bowel train was right on schedule. He almost just let go right there, until he remembered that he wasn’t in a diaper. Shit, that was a close one. He tugged at Daddy’s arm. “Yes, what is it sport?” “I, uh… I have to go potty.” “Oh yeah? Well, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait until we get to McDonald’s, sport. There’s no bathroom here.” Ryan whined, but Daddy slapped his wrist and he shut up. Daddy was taking his time with the groceries, and as Ryan realised, it took a lot more effort holding it in now than it did two weeks ago. He knew that if he let his mind wander for just a few moments, his body would take over and he’d immediately lose contr— “Hey Ryan, you’re back! Wait, who’s that guy and why are you… Uh, holding his hand?” Ryan froze, first at the sound of Jeremy Linnard’s voice and then at the all-too-familiar sensation of his bowels immediately letting loose, first with a loud fart followed by the seat of his pants filling with a big stinking mushy poop. Sensing the all-clear, his bladder followed suit as he completely flooded his shorts and even made a puddle where he stood. Jeremy and his buddies stared mouth agape as his hockey buddy wet his pants and messed himself all while holding the hand of some older man. “Ryan… Dude… Did you just wet yourself?” The others stared in shock as Daddy turned around. Ryan was completely petrified. “Aww, did my baby boy have an accident? Someone couldn’t even wait until we got to McDonald’s. Oh look at you, you’re soaked! And… Oh my goodness, you went poopies too didn’t you?” There was now a considerable audience to Ryan’s predicament. He could feel tears of humiliation building as Daddy put his arm around him. “Don’t worry little Ryan, Daddy’s here. C’mon, let’s get you changed and cleaned up.” Daddy escorted Ryan away, making sure to walk straight through Jeremy’s group. “Excuse me boys, my lil guy had a big accident so he needs to be changed.” Ryan didn’t dare make eye contact with any of his friends, but he could hear them immediately burst into laughter as daddy walked him to the checkout. “Excuse me ma’am, but my boy here had an accident. Do you think there’s a toilet or changing room nearby where we can get him cleaned up?” The cashier directed Daddy to a changing room nearby. Ryan could feel the eyes of the entire store on him as he was escorted away. He couldn’t help it anymore; he started sobbing. He had never felt so humiliated and degraded in his life. He actually just had an accident in public. Not only that, he shat himself in front of his friends. What the hell were they going to think of him now? Chapter 16 - Back to Basics... Again Once they were alone in the changing room, Daddy threw his arms around Ryan and grabbed him in a tight bear hug. “Shhh… It’s ok, little guy. Daddy knew he shouldn’t trust you in big boy pants. Back to diapers for you. Let’s get you all cleaned up and dressed properly, okay?” Ryan calmed down a little, and just sniffled as daddy unfolded a big changing mat over the cold linoleum floor. He closed his eyes as Daddy pulled his shorts and peeled his briefs off. Ryan dared to peek again as Daddy tutted. “Definitely not a big boy, even these shorts are ruined!” Indeed, the back of the shorts was stained brown as the mess had seeped through his briefs. He couldn’t stop himself whimpering again. “Shhh, don’t cry baby. Here.” Daddy pushed Ryan’s paci into his mouth, and he started sucking immediately. He didn’t care how babyish he felt, it was the only thing that made him feel better right now. After wiping Ryan’s thoroughly poopy bottom down, Daddy pulled out a bottle of powder and not one, but two thick diapers from the bag he had brought in. How coincidental that as soon as Daddy had brought that bag with him, Ryan had a huge accident that necessitated it… Except maybe it wasn’t an accident. Well, it certainly was for Ryan… But maybe Daddy had planned it all. He wanted Ryan to mess in public so he could humiliate him beyond anything else he’d ever experienced. Ryan felt so desperately helpless. He was now beginning to realise just how much power Daddy had over his life. Daddy powdered him up and taped both diapers around his waist. One was thick by itself, but this was something else. “That was a big accident you had, little man. It’s a good thing Daddy packed a change of clothes too, you ruined these shorts and briefs! Daddy’s gotta keep you in double diapers for a while, I think, if you’re having such big accidents. Don’t wanna risk ruining any else of your nice clothes.” Daddy pulled out a change of outfit - his “favourite” light blue T-shirt with tiny teddy bears and bottles adorning every inch, and a pair of denim shortalls with a Winnie-the-Pooh print adorning the bib and snaps in the crotch for easy diaper access. Ryan tried to blink back the tears as Daddy dressed him in the humiliatingly infantile outfit. He got terrified for a moment when it seemed like the snaps weren’t going to fit over his diapers, but thankfully they eventually snapped into place. But that was only a small consolation. Standing up, Ryan still looked incredibly infantile; the shortalls did absolutely nothing to hide the massive diaper bulge and the plastic rims even peeked out of the leg holes. His butt looked massive, and if it wasnt obvious enough to almost anyone that he was wearing a big diaper underneath his clothes, the forced waddle caused by his legs being spread apart by the thick plastic and the extremely audible crinkle was proof. And the Velcro shoes and socks combo may have made him look like a bit of a kid before, but now combined with his new outfit, he looked nothing more than an absolute baby. “Good baby,” Daddy chuckled. “One last thing…” He retrieved a Winnie the Pooh pacifier clip from the bag, and attached it to his shortalls bib. “Daddy knows how much you love your binkie little man, so this is so you don’t lose it.” Ryan suckled in meek appreciation. “Okay, back to shopping and then lunch!” Chapter 17 - Baby on Board Ryan felt as if the eyes of the entire store were on him as Daddy marched him by the hand toward the cashier. It didn’t matter that no one was particularly staring aside from a few double takes. The undeniably and overtly infantile outfit, the massive bulge in his crotch, the obvious crinkle sound that Ryan made with every step that now seemed louder than ever (or maybe Ryan was just more conscious of it than ever), and of course the goofy waddle that the thick diapers and Daddy’s brisk stride forced him into… Ryan would’ve felt completely humiliated even if there was no one in the store at all. “Sorry about that,” Daddy said cheerfully to the cashier. “My poor lil guy had an accident so we had to get him all changed and dressed more appropriately.” Ryan blushed furiously as Daddy ruffled his hair. The cashier smiled at Ryan bemusedly, looking his outfit up and down. Ryan realised he had still been sucking away on his paci the whole time and spat it out immediately. “Ah ah ah, you keep that in for now, little guy.” Daddy immediately retrieved the pacifier hanging down on Ryan’s front and shoved it back in his mouth. Ryan whined quietly to himself. “You just keep sucking on your binkie until Daddy says so.” He turned to the cashier and chuckled, shaking his head. “Kids…” The cashier continued staring at Ryan even while he was scanning the items. “So if you don’t mind me asking,” he started, “why is he dressed like a baby and all? It’s a pretty good costume.” “Oh this isn’t a costume,” Daddy smiled, “these are little Ryan’s normal clothes! He is kind of just a big baby boy, you see. He uses his diapers, sleeps in his crib and plays with his toys and everything. Normally at home I just keep him in a T-shirt and diaper; makes it easier to see when he needs changing. He’s a little stinker, all right! Aww, he’s embarrassed. It’s ok, little guy, we’ll go get you some lunch now, yeah?” Ryan was just about in tears again as Daddy led him out of the store finally. He could’ve sworn he saw the cashier whip out his phone and record his crinkly waddling bottom as he left. Finally he was in the car, the car seat straps feeling even tighter against Ryan’s massively puffy crotch. Daddy pinched his cheek and smiled. “Don’t worry baby, you’re still a good boy even if you did have a big accident. It’s ok, daddy just knows now that he needs to keep you in diapers properly now. Let’s go get you some num nums!” Ryan was at least happy to have some reprieve from the constant baby food. It was almost a slight relenting in Daddy’s constant babying, in a way. Except for the fact that Daddy still chose his meal for him (a happy meal, which daddy cut up for him), he still had to wear his bib, Daddy still fed him and he still had to drink his milk from his bottle - Daddy specially requested the cashier to put his milk in his bottle. And Ryan still ended up a mess with ketchup all over his face as per usual. Before leaving, Daddy stuck a finger into his shortalls; he was indeed wet. He didn’t even remember going at all. “Soggy already! Well, it’s about time we headed home anyway. You’re well overdue for your nap. Those double diapers can hold a lot, so I won’t need to change you for a bit.” He was right; Ryan was already getting sleepy. It was a totally exhausting day. The rest of the afternoon played out much as usual. After his nap, Daddy thankfully changed him into his normal diapers, and he watched some Teletubbies for being a good boy. After the usual mushy dinner and a bath, he was put down to bed. The events of the day out earlier were still vivid in Ryan’s mind. You might wonder why he didn’t just try and escape or protest against Daddy’s humiliating treatment of him. Well, it was pretty simple - starting from the moment he messed himself in the store, Ryan was completely rock hard, more so than he had ever been in his life. The experience was humiliating, sure, but it was also incredibly hot and one of his deepest fantasies brought to life. And now he was still just as horny as then. He was going to be a good boy for Daddy and not touch it… but fuck it, he’d be going home tomorrow anyway and he wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anyway. He rolled onto his front and started vigorously humping the crib mattress. He furiously sucked his pacifier as he quickly approached climax, thinking of what a stinky, naughty baby he had been and how Daddy had humiliated him. He completely exploded into his diaper, barely suppressing his moans. He rolled back onto his back and smiled. Tomorrow he’d have some explaining to do to his friends, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. Tonight was his last chance to enjoy this blissful sensation, before he went home the next day to his big life. Of course, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. But he didn’t know that. He just sucked his paci, cuddled his plushie and drifted off to a peaceful sleep, his diaper growing warm and wet as he did. Chapter 18 - This Is Your Home Now And so Ryan woke up that morning to Daddy gently shaking him awake, saying that his time was up and that it’s time for him to go back home now. Ryan was sad to leave, but grateful that he was now able to return to his normal life after two whole weeks as a baby. He could walk, talk like an adult, use the bathroom and eat proper food! He felt kinda silly in his briefs after two weeks of diapers, but he was happy he had this experience. It was fun being a baby, but he was glad it wouldn’t be a full time dealio; he just wouldn’t be able to handle that. He burst into his front door and said, “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” His mom came bustling into the foyer and gave him a big hug. “How did you guys go when I was gone?” “Oh we did fine, your father just did some work on the garage and I kept myself busy with the office work and all that. And how was your trip? Did you see lots of sights and good morning baby boy! Rise and shine, time for num nums!” Ryan froze. "Wait… what did you say? His mom was still smiling as she broke away from him and continued. “Goodness me you’re a soggy baby this morning!” “Wha’ the he’ iss goin’ on?!” Ryan said, or more appropriately mumbled, because his speech was garbled by the pacifier now in his mouth. Mom suddenly grabbed his diapered crotch, which was definitely wet. Wait a minute… diapered?! Ryan looked down and found himself suddenly dressed in a light blue Care Bears onesie with a very thick (and soggy) bulge in his crotch that could only mean he was well diapered and in need of a change. “Let’s get you changed, baby boy,” Mom said, but this time, her voice was much deeper and masculine, just like Daddy’s voic– Ryan awoke with a start to Daddy leaning over him in his crib, lowering the side rail. “Well good morning sleepy head!” Ryan looked around to see himself still in the nursery. It was just a dream, then. But today was still the day for him to go home. “You’re a soggy little baby boy aren’t you? Almost leaking, even! Daddy’s gonna have to put you in thicker diapers for bedtime from now on, I think.” From now on? But Ryan was going home today. Daddy really was committed to the role play. Daddy picked him up and changed his soggy bottom as usual. He got ready for his sodden diaper to be replaced with the thin white briefs that would herald his return to adulthood… only to find his nostrils confronted with the sweet smell of baby powder, his ears with a distinct plastic crinkling sound, and when he opened them, his eyes with the sight of a thick diaper being unfolded for Daddy to tape onto Ryan’s waist. Was he going to be sent home in a diaper? Perhaps a memento of his stay? Ryan was quietly contemplating while Daddy set to work at his usual routine, sliding the diaper underneath Ryan’s bum and taping it round his waist. And then his outfit… Daddy retrieved a blue Sesame Street snap shouldered T-shirt, but nothing else over his diaper. Ryan was a bit confused now. Surely he wasn’t going to send him home in this? Breakfast time, and Ryan was still confused. It had definitely been two weeks, but there was not a single change in Daddy’s demeanour as he spoonfed Ryan in his highchair and bib as he had always done these last fourteen days. Ryan went to try and ask Daddy when he would be going home today, but was swiftly silenced with a spoonful of oatmeal. One baba and a burping later, and Daddy took Ryan back upstairs, sat him down and looked him in the eye. This must be it. “Playtime, baby Ryan!” Or not. “Daddy…” Ryan said hesitantly, not sure how to put it. “Yes, sport?” “Well, I mean… uh…” “Come on little man, use your words.” “Well it’s been fourteen days now…” “Goodness me, has it? Well, the time flies doesn’t it?” He chuckled and picked Ryan up, taking him over to the rocking chair and sit him on his knee. “Uh… So when was I gonna go home?” Daddy chuckled again and bounced Ryan on his knee. “Silly baby! You are home.” Ryan was extremely lost. “No, I mean, it’s over now, and I get to go back home to my normal life and–” “This is your home now, baby. And this is your normal life now too. You’ll be living with Daddy from now on.” Ryan paused, and then it dawned on him what he was saying. “But-- no, you can’t do tha–” Ryan was immediately silenced as Daddy tutted and shoved Ryan’s pacifier into his open mouth - but this time he secured it with a strap so that he couldn’t spit it out. This was immediately followed by his hands being encased in the mittens that he usually earned for touching himself. His eyes went wide with fear and he tried to protest, but as usual the pacifier reduced all his words to incomprehensible babble. Daddy smiled and grabbed Ryan closely, rocking back and forth as he gently rubbed the terrified boy’s back. “There there, little baby… it’s ok, Daddy’s got you. You thought that Daddy was going to let you go back to your big boy life now, didn’t you?” He chuckled again. “Silly baby. Daddy knows what little Ryan needs, and it’s not big boy pants. Because you’re not a big boy anymore, Ryan. You really are just a little baby who needs to be back in diapers permanently. I mean, just look at what happened yesterday when you went poopy in your pants! No, you’ll be living with Daddy for good from now on. But don’t worry, it’s ok, Daddy knows just what his little baby wants and needs. He doesn’t need any of those silly big boy things like school or cars; he just needs his paci, his baba, his teddy and his daddy to change his diapies whenever!” Daddy sniffed and smiled deviously at Ryan. “Oh, in fact, I think Ryan might need that last one right away!” Ryan was thoroughly confused, until Daddy cheerfully patted his diapered bum, and Ryan felt a sensation that had never felt so horrific - the distinct smushing of poop up against his butt, and the unfortunate smell of a very stinky diaper. Ryan was petrified in complete shock. He had absolutely no memory of even feeling the need to mess, let alone actually doing it. In just two weeks, had he really just been completely un-potty trained?! His emotions were in a daze as Daddy pinched his cheek and said, “don’t worry baby, Daddy is always here to change your stinky diapers.” Ryan was completely checked out as Daddy changed his diaper and laid him down in the crib for an early nap time. But this time, Daddy strapped him down tightly to the mattress, ensuring he could barely move an inch let alone try and escape. “I know you’re probably upset about not going back to big boy pants,” Daddy cooed as he tucked Ryan in. “But you’ll learn to love it, little man. Daddy just wants what’s best for you, and it just so happens that what’s best is that you’re kept in diapers and as a baby for your own good.” He kissed Ryan on the forehead, eyes still wide with fear, and closed the curtains before locking the door behind him. Ryan looked around him, since it was the only thing he could do. He couldn’t move his legs, or his arms, or even his fingers since they were encased in super thick padded mittens. He couldn’t even talk, only suck on his pacifier that was strapped around his head. He looked at the bars of the crib, now seeming like the bars to his infantile jail cell. All Ryan had wanted was two weeks to live out his fantasy, and then straight back home, no strings attached. Well, he got his wish. Ryan kept sucking away on his pacifier - he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. It just made him so calm and peaceful. Even after everything that had just happened, he could feel himself drifting off to sleep somehow. His mind was screaming to resist, to stay awake knowing that this was just part of Daddy’s plan. He had to try and escape at the first possible opportunity. But right now the sleep was overwhelming - Ryan could barely keep his eyes open, and the rhythmic sucking didn’t stop. The last thing Ryan before he closed his eyes was the “Baby Ryan” sign emblazoned above his crib. Two weeks ago, Ryan thought it was a cute nickname and a sign of his role in the little role play. But right now, it was clear that this wasn’t a cute nickname anymore - “Baby Ryan” was no longer role play, it was a life sentence. Chapter 19 - The Next Morning Ryan squinted as he woke up, the bright early morning sunlight streaming in from the windows. He had that dream again, that he was back to his normal life and treated like an adult once more. As his eyes came into focus, he saw the bars of the crib and his wider nursery again that confirmed it was all just a dream - he was indeed still trapped under Daddy’s care, still in diapers, and still a baby. The events of last night, indeed, were not a dream. He groaned and sucked his pacifier as he cuddled Robbie, his favourite plushie, as the distinct aroma of a super wet diaper greeted his nostrils. Normally he might try and enjoy this sensation, but yesterday Daddy had locked Ryan’s “peepee”, as he called it, in a chastity cage preventing him from even getting a boner, let alone being able to play with it. Ryan sighed as he rubbed his eyes - or tried to anyway, since the mittens stopped his fingers from actually doing anything. He wasn’t strapped down to the crib anymore, but that’s only because Daddy didn’t need to do it - the bars of Ryan’s crib were high enough that he couldn’t get any real grip with his mittens to climb out. He was truly trapped in this infantile prison. Things had changed dramatically since Daddy had abandoned all pretense of letting Ryan go the day before. He was still babied - Daddy still fed him, dressed him, changed his diapers and cared for him in every way. But it had changed for sure. Ryan didn’t feel calm or at peace anymore. Now that he knew Daddy fully intended on keeping him forever, Ryan felt completely helpless to resist. He was now hyper-aware of how little control he had over his life now, and how much he was really beginning to regress. Yesterday he really did make poopies in his diaper without even realising… He barely had time to mull this over before Daddy came striding in, his usual jovial self. “Good morning baby! How’s my good little baby this morning?” He grabbed Ryan firmly and turned him over, so he could unbutton his onesie and check his diaper. Ryan noticed that much of the gentleness Daddy treated him with previously had all but evaporated, replaced with a sort of firmness that only made Ryan feel even more helpless as Daddy pulled the back of Ryan’s diaper. “Just soggy,” Daddy chuckled. “Good baby,” he pinched Ryan’s blushing cheek. “Time for num nums!” Daddy released Ryan from his crib and picked him up to carry him down to the kitchen. Daddy had fixed Ryan the usual breakfast of mushy oatmeal, and after locking him in the highchair tightly, he went about the usual routine of tying the bib round Ryan’s neck and getting his bottle ready. But before taking Ryan’s pacifier out, he gave him a stern look. “Now Ryan, you’ve got two choices. You can kick up a fuss and try and act like a big boy if you want. But all that’s going to earn you is your binkie back in your mouth, a good spanking and the rest of the day in the crib with an enema cleanout to stop your fussing. Or, you can be a good baby and eat your num nums for dadda without a fuss at all. So, tell me - are you going to be a good baby?” Ryan sucked on his paci and nodded up at Daddy. He knew this wasn’t the right time to try and formulate an escape anyway - he had to make Daddy let his guard down, and as much as he hated it, Ryan knew that meant he had to fully submit to the treatment at least for a bit. Daddy removed the pacifier straps and finally let Ryan’s jaw move freely again. “I want to hear you say it. Are you going to act like a big boy?” Ryan swallowed and adopted the cute childish tone that Daddy had trained him to use. “No Dadda, I won’t.” “And what will you be?” “I’ll be a good baby.” “Because…?” Ryan swallowed hard and blushed as he said it: “Because I am a baby.” Daddy smiled widely. “That’s right Ryan. You’re just a widdle baby boy and nothing more. And once we get some num nums in baby’s tummy, we’re going to start some new methods to make little Ryan into the happiest little baby in the land!” Ryan gulped inwardly as Daddy started spooning the familiar mushy muck into (and onto) Ryan’s mouth. That window of opportunity for escape seemed to be getting smaller and smaller… Chapter 20 - Who’s a Good Baby? After breakfast, Ryan found himself back in the nursery again. But there were two new additions that he swore were never there before - a huge TV screen, much bigger than the old one, and what looked like an oversized baby bouncer facing it. Daddy hoisted Ryan up into it and strapped him in tightly. “Daddy’s got some fun stuff for baby Ryan to watch while Daddy does some work. It’s a special show just for babies so Daddy can’t watch it!” He ruffled Ryan’s hair and squeezed his still soggy crotch. Daddy strapped the paci back in Ryan’s mouth and popped a pair of headphones over his head. And then, Ryan was alone. He could barely move at all - just sorta wriggle and squirm to make him bounce up and down. He whimpered behind his paci as he felt more helpless than ever. Suddenly, the massive screen burst into life and a whimsical childish tune started filling his ears. A bunch of happy teddy bears were dancing across the colourful screen to a simple rhythm. It caught Ryan’s attention and he was a little captivated. The melody was gentle and soothing, and the way the bears danced back and forth on screen was transfixing. He started sucking his paci to the rhythm of the music and bobbing his head along too. He felt very soothed and blissful as he happily sucked his binky. “Snap out of it!” He thought to himself, breaking free from his infantile trance state. He had to avoid whatever this bizarre show was doing to him and fight the hypnotic spell. But all he could do was try and avoid looking at the screen, and when he did, it felt like the hypnotic music grew louder and louder, and all Ryan wanted to do was suck his binkie and watch the funny bears dance across the screen and bounce up and down. He was vaguely aware of his diaper growing warm and wet as it pressed up against his skin, but he thought no more of it once his eyes were glued back to the screen. Suddenly, the bears stopped dancing, but the music continued at a lower volume. The “head” bear looked at the camera and said, “It’s baby time! Who’s a big boy?” The bear pointed at the screen… no, the bear pointed right at Ryan. “Are you a big boy?” ‘Of course I am,’ Ryan thought to himself. “No’ me,” Ryan said clumsily behind the pacifier, not even thinking about his words as they just sort of tumbled out instinctively. “No, that’s right!” The bear said happily. “You’re just a baby!” Ryan smiled gleefully and nodded. “Who’s a good baby?” “I’m a goo’ bay-bee,” Ryan said. “Who’s just a baby?” “I’m jus’ a bay-bee!” “Good baby!” Ryan kicked happily and sucked his binkie in bliss. Yup, he was just a baby. Just a silly little baby who loved his daddy. “What do babies do?” One of the bears asked. The main bear smiled and said, “Well, that’s what we’re going to teach the baby!” Ryan felt a mix of emotions. He felt so oddly happy and gleeful, and wriggled about in his bouncer, but in the back of his mind he felt the terror of his now-suppressed adult consciousness that had seemingly been replaced with a powerful infantile bliss. It felt so good to submit to it. It felt so good to become a baby. It felt so right to be a baby. Ryan was a baby. Just a happy little baby. “First, babies suck their binkies.” Ryan sucked happily and kicked his feet. “Babies don’t drink from cups, they drink from their baba!” Ryan loved his milky babas that Daddy made for him. He wanted one now! “Babies always eat with a bib and love their num nums!” “And…” the main baby paused and looked straight at Ryan again… “babies make poopies in their diapees!” Ryan immediately felt a soft warm mush spread all over his bottom as he filled his diaper without a care in the world. Ryan’s adult mind was screaming in horror but his body had been taken over by a vastly powerful infantile power that just kept sucking his paci harder and harder as Ryan bounced up and down in his soiled diaper. The bears clapped. “Good baby!” They all said in unison. “Good babies always make stinkies in their diapees!” Ryan giggled and bounced, feeling the mess smushing up against his butt. It felt so good to be a good baby and make stinkies. He wanted to do it all the time now. He wanted to make Daddy happy. He knew that making Daddy happy meant he had to be a good baby. And now, Ryan knew that being a good baby meant making stinkies in his diapees. “Are you a big boy?” The bear asked again. Ryan empathically shook his head and said, “No!” “Are you a baby?” Ryan nodded energetically. “I’m a baby!” “Who’s a stinky baby?” “I am!” “Who’s a stinky baby?” “I’m a stinky baby!” “Good baby!” The screen and the colours began to swirl before Ryan’s eyes making his pupils dilate. Ryan sucked his binkie and bounced up and down in his poopy diaper as the first bits of his baby programming latched themselves onto his mind. Chapter 21 - Baby Wants His Baba “Showtime’s over, baby!” Ryan immediately jolted back to his senses. The film was over; long over, in fact. He completely blanked once the bears had appeared… and all he remembered was being all happy and blissful as he sucked his paci and– “Oh my, I think someone is a stinky baby!” Ryan’s ears immediately pricked up at that and he looked straight at Daddy. “Who’s a stinky baby?” Daddy chuckled as he unstrapped Ryan and hoisted him into his arms. Ryan felt it again - that overwhelming sense of bliss taking over his body. He started sucking his binkie to the rhythm of the music again. “You’re a good baby for going poopy in your diaper. Such a good baby. You like being a good baby, don’t you, Ryan?” Ryan looked at Daddy and immediately found himself nodding. He did like being a good baby and making Daddy happy. He wanted to know how else he could make Daddy happy. Daddy patted Ryan’s heavily poopy diaper and the sensation of poop smudging against his butt immediately snapped Ryan out of it. What the hell was that? He felt like he entered some sort of trance and all sense of self and maturity was replaced by infantile simplicity and bliss. Daddy chuckled again as he laid Ryan’s poopy butt down to change him. “There’s a good baby. Looks like your baby programming went very well. From now on, you’ll have no control over your poopies ever again. Don’t worry, this is just the beginning. We’ll work on your speech next, I think. Before long, you’ll learn to love your new life. You’ll be a real baby boy, Ryan!” Ryan’s eyes widened in terror as he realised what Daddy was doing to him. He didn’t just want to treat Ryan like a baby; he was now doing his best to make sure Ryan became a baby. And he was well on his way… “Time for a baba!” Ryan felt that gush of overwhelming babyishness flow through him again. ‘Babies love their babas,’ he remembered the bears saying. Silly bears, they were so colourful and cuddly. Maybe Daddy would get Ryan a bear like that if he was a good baby and drank his baba– Ryan snapped back to reality. This was really beginning to terrify him. Lying in Daddy’s lap, he tried to move away as Daddy brought the bottle to his lips. He knew that drinking the bottle in this state would only make his programming even harder to resist. Ryan had to resist. He had to break free of Daddy’s power and stop himself from being regressed into a mindless infant. But all he could do was close his mouth. “Open up, Ryan. Be a good baby and drink your baba.” It took all of Ryan’s willpower and then some to keep his mouth shut. The voice in his head was saying, ‘Daddy’s right, I am a baby and I need my baba, and I love my baba…’ Acting purely on reflex, Ryan knocked the bottle out of Daddy’s hand. Daddy looked very cross, and Ryan immediately regretted it. With one swift move, Ryan was thrust over Daddy’s knee and his diaper pulled down to expose his butt. SLAP! The spanks came hard and fast on Ryan’s butt and thighs. He’d been spanked before, but somehow this time felt even worse to Ryan. In fact, he could feel his emotions getting out of control. And then like a dam bursting, Ryan burst into tears and started howling with pain. It was a good minute of spanking before Daddy stopped, and Ryan was a complete blubbering mess. His face was red and hot and streaked with tears. Daddy looked him in the eye. “Now tell me, are you going to be a good baby?” Ryan sniffled and nodded. “Tell me.” “I-I’ll be a good baby,” Ryan whimpered out. “Do you want your baba?” “Yes Daddy…” “Say it properly!” Daddy slapped Ryan on the thigh again and made him sob. “Yes Daddy! I want my baba! I want my baba!” “Good baby.” Ryan was laid back in Daddy’s lap and the bottle offered again. This time, he took it without protest. Still a blubbery mess of emotion, he immediately latched onto the nipple and suckled the milk down fast. He just wanted his baba. Daddy put Ryan’s paci back in, but didn’t strap it in. He need not anyway, since Ryan passively accepted it and sucked. Back in the crib for nap time, Ryan tried to muster the resolve to calm down and think of a way out… but then the hypnotic music started playing gently, and Ryan felt his mind empty. He sucked his binkie to the rhythm, felt his diapee expand and grow warm as he wet and his eyelids grow heavy as he drifted off to a peaceful, dreamless sleep… just like a good baby should. Chapter 22 - Reprogramming Continues The next day, Ryan woke up as usual in the relatively early morning. He groggily stirred, sucked his paci and cuddled his teddy. He had slept so well; like a baby, even. Ryan rolled over and sat up. But it was when he sat his heavily diapered bottom on the mattress that he realised something was very, scarily different: he was met with the unmistakeable smushing sensation of a poop-filled diaper. Ryan froze in terror, and the smell of poop quickly reached his nostrils to confirm that yes, he had made stinkies in his diaper in his sleep. Ryan’s heart started pounding with terror. He really felt like he was losing his entire sense of adulthood and reverting back to infancy at a speed he never even thought possible. The most terrifying thing was, the only thought going through his head: ‘I want my Daddy’. His emotions were welling up inside of him and he felt like he would burst. Ryan opened his mouth and his paci fell out as he let out an involuntary whine before he came back to his senses and clasped his hands over his mouth. He really did just about cry because he needed a diaper change. He was losing himself already. Daddy came in at that, clearly hearing Ryan’s little whimpers. He praised Ryan for making stinkies as usual, which made him swell with happiness. Ryan really loved being a good baby and making stinkies. Ryan shook his head again, clearing the haze. He felt so powerless up against these infantile traits that seemed to be slowly taking over his mind. After a diaper change and breakfast, Daddy announced it was time for Ryan’s show again. This time, Ryan wasn’t locked in his bouncer or had his paci strapped in, but was just sat in front of the TV. Daddy said he was just going to go to the store while Ryan got to enjoy some more baby conditioning and reprogramming. He kissed Ryan on the cheek and left. Ryan was alert. This was his chance! He waited to hear Daddy’s car leave the driveway, as the screen burst into life again. The music penetrated his mind and he started sucking his binkie to its rhythm once again. He loved his binkie, it made him feel so happy and peaceful and reminded him of his baba, which he also loved. The bears danced onto the screen and Ryan beamed widely. He couldn’t stop himself from clapping a little bit with glee. It was his favourite show! His adult conscience screamed in horror as it knew another aspect of himself was about to be reverted back to infancy, but the hypnotic power of the bears had already taken hold of Ryan completely. He took absolutely no notice of the fact that he was wetting himself without the slightest semblance of control. The session yesterday had seemingly completely taken away his toilet training. “Who’s a good baby?” The bears asked again. “I am!” Ryan said happily. “I’m a good baby!” “Yes you are! Are you ready for your next baby lesson?” Ryan’s adult consciousness was begging with his overpowering baby self to resist. ‘Just get up. Look away, stand up and go. The door is wide open, he’s gone. You can escape before it’s too late.’ “Yes!” Ryan said, nodding. “This is a big one… can you count to ten with us?” The bears counted, and Ryan counted along with them. Easy! “Good baby! Now you try again!” Ryan started counting alone. “One, two… three… uh… f-five… no… that’s not right…” Ryan was confused. He knew what came after three, and it wasn’t five, it was… wait… what was it?! Ryan didn’t know what came after three. The information was genuinely absent from his mind. He looked up in confusion and shock. “Good baby! Babies don’t need to count, that’s what Daddy is for! No more numbers for you, baby.” Ryan nodded emphatically at the bears. That made sense! Of course babies don’t need numbers. That’s a big boy thing! “Now look around the room. You should see some words.” Ryan did so; he saw a big picture book in the corner and grabbed it. It was a simple story about bears, of course, “The Bears in the Woods”. “Now read those words, baby.” He opened the book and found a random sentence. “The bears loved the woods; they would always frolick and play together,” Ryan read slowly and out loud. He looked up at the screen again. The main bear looked him straight in the eye, and said, “Good baby! But I think you should try again!” Ryan looked down and went to read again, but the words had changed. In fact, they weren’t words at all now - they were just unintelligible squiggles. Ryan turned the pages of the book frantically, but saw only more squiggles. He closed the book and looked at the title - but it too was just a mass of nonsense squiggles. “Good baby! Babies don’t need to read. Daddy reads for baby! No more reading for baby!” Ryan had just completely lost the ability to read and count, but he didn’t mind right now. In his utterly transfixed and hypnotised state, he felt right. “One more thing… babies need to be talking like babies too! Say, ‘Daddy’.” Ryan repeated. The bears continued reciting a bunch of words to Ryan for a good few minutes, as Ryan repeated them back to them. ‘Diapee’, ‘stinkies’, ‘baba’… all babyish words that sounded very cute and infantile, as well as normal words like ‘thank you’ and ‘please’ that had been babified into ‘fankyoo’ and ‘pwease’. At the end, the bears praised Ryan again, and he swelled with happiness. “Good baby!” The screen started swirling again, and Ryan’s pupils dilated again. In the absence of his binkie, he shoved his thumb in his mouth and started sucking away to the beat. The programming continued to take over his brain as the door laid wide open. The front door was even unlocked. But Ryan didn’t even notice anymore. Any thought of escaping had long been wiped from his thoughts. He just sucked his thumb and stared at the colours and swirls as he descended further and further into infancy. Daddy came back to find Ryan asleep on the floor, his thumb in his mouth as he gently ducked, and his diaper soaked. Daddy smiled. Ryan was ready for another day out. Chapter 23 - Another Grand Day Out “Wakey wakey! Naptime’s over, baby!” Ryan opened his eyes in surprise. He was in the crib again, on his stomach, with his thumb planted in his mouth. He sucked it placidly for a few seconds before coming to and yanking it out, covered in drool. He blushed furiously at his infantile transgression, but Daddy just chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Good baby,” Daddy smiled. “You’re such a good little boy, Ryan. You love being Daddy’s baby, don’t you?” Ryan’s trance was reactivated with the words “good baby”. His thoughts emptied out of his mind, and he was transfixed on Daddy. He loved his big strong Daddy. And he did love being a baby. He was a baby. Nothing more. He smiled vacantly and nodded. Daddy smirked. “Time for a diapee change, tiger! You’re soaked! Besides, we’ve got somewhere to be soon. Daddy needs to take his baby to see a special doctor for a checkup, but we need to run some errands first!” Ryan got jolted back to reality as Daddy laid his soaked butt down on the changing table. At first he was mildly terrified of the prospect of another public humiliation… but then he realised this was a chance to escape! Surely he’d be able to signal to someone that he was being kept prisoner, and someone would rescue him from Daddy’s clutches. Daddy put Ryan into double thick diapers again, and picked out the cutest outfit again: a sailor suit with the smallest pair of shorts Ryan had ever seen. They did absolutely nothing to hide the massive diaper bulge in front and back, and the leg bands of the diaper could be easily seen through the extremely brief leg holes. Daddy wasn’t bothering with big boy wear this time. Daddy got ready and packed Ryan’s diaper bag ready for the day out. Ryan squirmed nervously while he watched: Daddy stuck a few diapers, powder, baby wipes, his paci, bottle, a bib, spoon and some baby food… and what looked like a very babyish but nonetheless intimidating harness. Daddy noticed Ryan’s nervous look and chuckled. “This is just for naughty babies who try and run off. But that’s not you, is it, little guy?” Ryan nervously shook his head. “Do you know what you are?” Daddy grinned. Ryan squirmed in discomfort as Daddy leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You’re a good baby.” Ryan could feel that overwhelming warmth flood his body at those words. Whenever Daddy called him a good baby, everything just seemed so much nicer, so much more colourful and warmer, and so much happier. It was the most overwhelming sensation he’d ever felt, and it was impossible to resist. Daddy grinned widely and gently pushed Ryan’s paci into his mouth, which Ryan immediately accepted and sucked to the rhythm of that music that was now resonating around his brain. He heard the bears’ voices in his head. ‘Good baby’, they chanted in unison to the rhythm of the music. Suckle suckle suckle. Good baby. He opened his eyes and looked at Daddy, who was carrying him to the car. Daddy smiled down at Ryan and pinched his cheek and said it again: ‘Good baby’. Ryan smiled behind his paci as Daddy patted his super thickly padded bottom, making Ryan giggle. The mantras of the bears kept resonating in Ryan’s head. Good baby. Good baby. Just a baby. Just a baby. Daddy’s baby. Just Daddy’s good baby… The click of a car seat lock encasing Ryan’s crotch finally brought him out of his deep trance properly. Daddy had been free to secure Ryan in his car seat, and no amount of fiddling with the straps or lock could budge it at all. In fact, Daddy chuckled at his efforts when he climbed into the drivers’ seat. Ryan could only sit in nerve wracked anticipation as Daddy drove him off, without a single clue of where he was being taken or what awaited him. As they stopped at a light, another car pulled up right beside them. Ryan was wise enough to know (with a stern look from Daddy as a reminder) that things could only get so much worse if he tried to make a scene in front of these people - after all, he was tightly strapped into this car seat, so there was no escape from his wrath. But Ryan did suddenly become much more conscious of how infantile he looked as he looked down at his adorable sailor suit outfit, and then he looked back at the adjacent car and realised the occupants (a young teenage couple) were staring at him. Ryan immediately spat the pacifier out and went bright red; he could’ve sworn he recognised the guy from school. Daddy tutted and said, “You’re a fussy baby tonight, aren’t you?” He grabbed the dangling paci and shoved it straight back into Ryan’s mouth. “You keep your binkie in for now. The couple started laughing and Ryan went bright pink with humiliation. But he still dared not resist or protest - he was in no such position of power to do anything of the sort. He could only suck his pacifier to try and forget the humiliation. He started sucking that pacifier a lot faster though when Daddy pulled up at their destination. “Here we are, lil guy… a playground!” Chapter 24 - Park Time Ryan looked around the park in trepidation. It was a big park; lots of swings, slides, merry-go-rounds, those bouncy horses on a spring, and a few benches as well. It was also totally empty, and Ryan was unsure if that was a blessing or a curse. He could only assume one thing: Daddy was expecting him to play. Daddy took him by the hand and led him over to the swings first, in a brisk stride that made Ryan waddle in an almost comical way as he tried to cope with the huge diaper in his far-too-brief shorts. He could only imagine how massive his butt looked, and he was partly grateful that the park was deserted… but his heart sank once he realised it meant escaping Daddy would be impossible without other people around. He wasn’t dumb enough to just try and run away; he needed a real and proper distraction. Daddy picked Ryan up and sat him in the swing seat. “Play time for baby,” he cooed while he pushed Ryan gently in the swing. Daddy made him play on all the equipment, and made sure to supervise him closely at every step - Ryan went bright red when he realised it was because Daddy was filming and taking pictures of his playtime. “Isn’t this fun?” Daddy chuckled. Ryan had to nod; he couldn’t tell if it was the brainwashing or not, but he couldn’t help but smile and enjoy the playground, especially the merry-go-round while Daddy spun him round and round. It aroused the playful child in him - the one that always enjoyed playgrounds and parks such as these but never got the chance to once it became socially unacceptable for someone his age to still play like this. He needn’t worry about that now. After a good half hour of play, Daddy led Ryan over to the park bench, his soggy diaper making him waddle all the way (when did he go? He didn’t remember anymore). The bib went round his neck and the usual routine of spoonfed mush followed. Ryan was extra nervous about people seeing, and for good reason - a jogger couple ran by, distracting Ryan as he made eye contact with him. He must had looked one hell of a sight with his big Cookie Monster bib and face all covered in mushy baby food, and Daddy certainly didn’t help matters when the spoon collided with Ryan’s cheek while he was distracted, smearing the entire side with yellow mush. “You really are a cranky one tonight, huh?” Daddy chided a little too loudly. “Stop being a fussy baby and open wide for Daddy!” The couple gawked as they passed, and Ryan blushed furiously. But he had to stay calm. His opportunity had yet to come. The babyish humiliation would just have to be endured… but how much longer could he take it? After a milky baba and a wipe down, Ryan was made to continue playing. Daddy took dozens of photos and made Ryan pose on the equipment. And just as Ryan was bouncing on the bouncy horse, a big warm smushy sensation began to cover his rear end. He groaned inwardly as his bowel muscles betrayed not a single ounce of control and Ryan uncontrollably messed himself again. Daddy smiled at Ryan - he knew exactly what happened. “What’s wrong, baby? Do you need Daddy’s help?” Ryan nodded solemnly. “Aww… did baby make a stinky?” Without warning, he pulled Ryan towards him and yanked down his shorts, exposing his massive diaper butt for all to see. “That’s okay, baby, we can still play for a while longer.” He chuckled and patted Ryan on the butt, making him whine as the mess was mushed about. He was about to put Ryan back on the horsie when two guys talking loudly rounded the corner. Daddy looked around for a second, and Ryan realised that now was his chance! While Daddy was distracted, Ryan kneed him in the crotch and punched him in the gut. Daddy was taken aback and doubled over, giving Ryan the chance to sprint away… well, he tried to sprint, but forgot about the bulky poopy diaper around his waist so he stumbled and fell on his face, but quickly got up and corrected himself into a very fast but awkward waddle. The joggers saw Ryan approaching them and stopped in their tracks, speechless at the sight of this flustered young man in a sailor suit sans pants and a very big and saggy diaper around his waist, waddling towards them. Ryan caught his breath and quickly said to the guys, “You gotta help me! I’ve been kidnapped by a lunatic who’s forcing me to be his baby! I need the cops!” Well, at least that’s what Ryan thought he said. What actually came out of Ryan’s mouth was, “You gotsta help me! I made a big poopie in my diapee. I need my dadda!” Ryan looked confused at the guys for a second as they looked bemused at each other and started trying not to laugh, before he realised what he said and immediately clasped his hands over his mouth. There was absolutely no way that was what he was trying to say. “No, that’s not what I meant to say! He’s brainwashing me into becoming a mindless baby, and I can’t resist!” Well, it actually sounded more like, “Nooooo, I made big stinkies! I want my Daddy!” “Oh yeah?” one of the guys taunted. “You need your daddy, little baby?” Ryan was freaking out. He realised that the programming earlier hadn’t just wiped his brain of the ability to read or count, but now it had somehow reduced his vocabulary to the level of a 3-year-old toddler’s. “Aww, look at the little baby,” they taunted. “Holy crap, you stink! Did you actually shit your diaper? Jesus Christ, you are a baby!” “I’m not a baby!!” Ryan whined… or rather, “I want my baba!!” “Aww, don’t cry baby. Looks like your Daddy’s coming right over!” Ryan didn’t even have a chance to turn around before he felt a large rubber nipple suddenly fill his mouth and Daddy’s firm hand grasp his shoulder after shoving Ryan’s binkie in his mouth. “Shhh, silly baby. You know better than to run away from Daddy. I’m gonna have to keep an extra close eye on you now so you don’t try and run off.” “Jeez,” one of the guys laughed. “You’d have to keep him on a leash!” Daddy laughed. “Funny you should mention that, actually…” Ryan felt that sinking feeling as Daddy rummaged around in the diaper bag and retrieved the harness that Ryan dreaded so much. In no time, Ryan was quickly fastened into it, with Daddy tightly clutching the leash. Ryan whimpered. His escape attempt, pitiful as it was, had indeed failed and he knew Daddy wasn’t gonna let his guard down like that ever again. The guys were still snickering at him, just as Daddy was fussing over his straps and making sure he was locked in tight. The constant taunting of the two guys, the humiliation of Daddy’s constant fussing, the pervasive smell of his stinky diaper, and most of all the knowledge that he had failed to escape his baby prison… it all became too much for Ryan, and he couldn’t stop himself bursting into tears. He realised how pitiful he looked as he sucked his binkie and the tears rolled down his cheeks. But he just couldn’t stop. The guys finally left, and Ryan started to calm down. But he was still miserable, and Daddy seemed to notice because he pulled Ryan in for a tight hug when they got back to the car after Daddy finally changed his smelly diaper. “It’s OK, Ryan. Daddy’s not mad that you tried to run away. In fact, I expected it. But I hope you understand now that there’s no way out. You’re going to be a baby no matter what, and it’s only going to make your life much easier and happier if you just accept it.” He stroked Ryan’s cheek, and Ryan said nothing, just continued to suck his pacifier to calm himself down. “Good baby,” Daddy smiled. The butterflies didn’t come that time, but for good reason - Ryan was angry. Daddy had reduced him to a humiliating little plaything, and Ryan realised that the more he got scared, the easier it was going to be for Daddy to brainwash him into submission. Well, no more of that. It was time to get mad. Daddy could take away all of his adult privileges and identity; he could take away his toilet training, his ability to read, his ability to count… he could even force him to speak like a baby. But he couldn’t break Ryan’s spirit. Chapter 25 - Six Weeks Later Six weeks had passed since Ryan’s little excursion out - although to Ryan, it could’ve been six days or six months, the days just blended into each other now. Ryan awoke to a gentle tinkle of his baby mobile, slowly spinning above his head. He loved watching the spinning stars and spaceships, and he sucked his binky mindlessly while he squirmed. Daddy stopped strapping him down at night so he could roll over and cuddle his bear without any trouble. Ryan’s tummy started rumbling so he sat up and squatted, frowning as he pushed some bad thoughts out of his mind. Once he did that, he sat back down but suddenly his diaper felt all squishy and stinky. He felt his emotions start to well up, and involuntarily he started sobbing, the pacifier falling out and dangling by a clip to his teddy bear onesie. Daddy came in after a few moments and started cooing, making Ryan immediately calm down a little. Daddy always made everything better. Daddy was making all of those scary thoughts and dreams that sometimes plagued Ryan go away for good. Daddy picked Ryan up and cuddled him closely, patting his stinky bottom. Daddy said... something to Ryan. Ryan found it hard to understand what Daddy said anymore, it kinda just sounded like happy noises from Daddy so it made Ryan happy but he didn’t really know what he actually said. Then Ryan was being carried down the hall. He thought he was gonna get a change, but Daddy had already taken him out of the nursery. Ryan couldn’t help but pout. He felt like he was forgetting something very big, but he couldn’t fathom what it was. His memory was getting fuzzier. Daddy placed Ryan down into his high chair and strapped him in. Breakfast, that must be what he forgot. Ryan squirmed involuntarily and the big stinky mess in his diaper squished against his bum. No, there was something else still. The bib went round Ryan’s neck and he tugged at it. “I’m a Good Baby”, it said. Ryan couldn’t read it, since it just looked like blocks and weird squiggles, but he nodded anyway. He was a good baby. He sucked his binky rhythmically and within moments, all of his conscious thought left his mind as if was quietly asked to leave. Ryan felt warm, fuzzy and comfy. His big stinky diaper felt all silly and poopy but he knew that big babies like him needed to make stinkies in his diaper. He wasn’t a big boy who could use the potty and eat big boy food and make choices for himself. Ryan was a baby who needed diapers and feeding and Daddy and bottles and he was never going to be big ever aga— The spoon collided with Ryan’s mouth and the mush smeared all over his face. Ryan was so zoned out that he didn’t even notice Daddy sit down with his big bowl of yummy baby mush for Ryan’s breakfast. Daddy said something again, and Ryan opened his mouth on command. He still didn’t know what Daddy said, but it sounded right anyway. He shifted in his high chair and felt the warm squishy mess smush up against his peepee now. He was so stinky but he didn’t even notice anymore. After breakfast, it would be time for his warm baba, a stinky diaper change, and then playtime. It was the same routine as ever. But what was it that he was forgetting? He was starting to worry that if he didn’t remember soon, he’d never remember it again. He didn’t know how right he was.

You're about to go to bed, and your diaper is totally sodden with pee, but sooo full of your warm stinky squishy poo that you don't want to change. It would take so long, and your poopy butt just feels sooo comfy and you would quite like to squish and hump your diaper under the sheets. So you take out another diaper, cut a few slits in the one you're wearing and tape it up and over your already full padding. It feels so naughty, you've put on a nice clean diaper, but you get to enjoy your smelly mess even longer. Anyone else done/relate to this?

Hi everyone, I am pretty new to writing abdl fiction, so please be nice but constructive. Feedback is appreciated. Premise: 22-year-old Anderson Keller is Hollywood's bad boy, but an incident has turned his career upside down. Enjoy! Chapter 1: Anderson paced in the living room of his Hollywood apartment as all the entertainment news sites and shows were airing his dirty deed in front of the whole world. “This is Evening Tea with Josh Tea. Tonight's top story Hollywood Bad Boy Anderson Keller shows us he is just a stinky boy.” The entertainment host announced before letting out a chuckle. “Let's roll the clip,” the entertainment host instructed. The screen cut to a video of Anderson. There was Anderson in tight light wash skinny jeans and a tight heather grey t-shirt. Filmed by strangers this morning in a popular WEHO coffee shop. After coming back in from a wrong order. “Are you guys stupid, I said oat milk, you fucking excuse of a person,” Anderson biliterated the poor barista who looked on the verge of tears. “I do not look this good every morning if I consume fucking dairy.” Anderson continued slamming the iced latte down on the pick-up counter making a mess. “Now clean this up and get me your manager. You are so fired.” Anderson continued. Tears started to stream from the barista's face as she ran to the back to get her manager. Some customers booed at Anderson while some started to get their cameras to film the incident. “Oh, shut up!” Anderson growled. A man in his early thirties with green highlights came out the back to meet with Anderson at the counter. “I am so sorry we got your order wrong mister, what can we do to make it right? A remake?” The manager offered. “I want the girl who poisoned me fired. I want your ass to make me a new sugar free vanilla latte with oat milk and I want a refund,” Anderson fumed. Soon enough Anderson's stomach gurgled like it was fighting a war. Anderson grabbed his stomach and groaned. “Hey, are you alright,” the manager asked. “Where are your bathrooms?” Anderson replied with a question. “On the other side of the store,” The manager pointed to a door on the far side of the coffee shop. Anderson with stomach in hand attempted to rush to the bathroom but became unsteady. He grabbed a chair to hold himself up. He was almost there. “UGH,” Anderson groaned as his stomach was losing a battle. He fell to his knees as his stomach cramps were only getting worse. One sip of a latte with dairy was the victor. As everyone filmed and watched Anderson mess his jeans. Anderson with tears in his eyes rushed out of the store cursing slurs to everyone in the store. Anderson continued to pace in his living room, as he was expecting his manager to come knocking any moment now. The whole world saw him shit himself. His bad boy image ruined like those jeans peaking in his master bathroom's trash can. Anderson in some clean grey sweats and an old band tee decided to change the channel and hope there was one that wasn’t covering this morning's incident. “Crybaby of the week goes Anderson Keller,” a young woman wearing a skimpy business suit announced. Anderson changed the channel once more. “Let’s talk about Anderson Keller, is his career ruined like his pants?” A man in a cardigan asked a panelist of entertainment specialists. “Let’s face it, not even my 3-year tantrums that bad when they go poop in their big kid undies. And they make it to the bathroom 90% of the time” One of the entertainment specialists commented. “Looks like Anderson is going to need a lifeline and some pull-ups,” Another specialist said laughing. Anderson decided just to shut off the tv. Letting himself fall onto the couch. He deeply sighed, rubbing his temples, getting his brown curly hair out of his face. DING DONG! The doorbell announced. Anderson slowly got up from the couch reluctantly going to answer the door knowing it was his manager, and ex-boyfriend. Anderson slowly opened the door to see a man in his mid-fifties with salt and pepper hair and a well-trimmed beard. Lucas Mills, stood in the hallway Anderson's former boyfriend, and now business manager. He carried a leather briefcase. “Well, are you gonna let me in,” Lucas asked. Anderson let Lucas in walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Lucas followed. Before getting a glass Lucas rustled Anderson's perfect brown hair. A long silence erupted as both men were standing in front of each other at the kitchen island. Anderson filled the glass with filtered water from his fridge. “First order of business how are you holding up buddy,” Lucas asked, breaking the silence. “How do you think I am doing,” Anderson replied with a hint of anger. “The whole world saw me embarrass myself. My life is over, my career is over, “Anderson blurted. “Hey bud, we don’t self-deprecate. Not while I’m here,” Lucas replied as trying to console a child. Anderson faced palmed and groaned in frustration. “2nd order of business, Marvel pulled out. This morning incident confirmed you weren’t the right person to represent the brand in their next featured project. The edgy tv show about vampires also does not want you to return. They are gonna kill off your character. And well, you lost a handful of brand deals. I know. I know it looks grim right now.” Lucas explained. Anderson sighed. Putting his hands on his face again. “Hey bud, look at me, I want to see those lovely eyes.,” Lucas said, reaching out, touching Anderson's arm. Anderson removed his hands from his face. Staring at Lucas. “There are those ocean eyes,” Lucas announced. Anderson wanted to just disappear. “3rd order of business. Things aren’t that bad. We spin this. You were acting out because you have bowel issues. You were never an arrogant brat. Some good pr, we turn you into a boy next door who was hurt and embarrassed. We get you on some late-night talk shows. Fuck it, we get you on daytime ones too.” Lucas explained. “You want to spin this into I’m an adult in their early twenties who can’t hold their shit,” Anderson growled. “It’s not that bud, plenty of people….” Lucas stared before getting cut off by Anderson. “If you call me bud again. I’m gonna crash out. You will be out of this apartment needing stitches. Get to the point already,” Anderson angrily snarled. “Well, there is a brand willing to work with you. It’s a little unorthodox, but if you let me run the pr. It can be great. If the boy next door image works, you can play heroes not villains. There is also a reality competition series interested in you. Oh, and a movie part. Not a superhero one but a romcom.” Lucas continued. “What’s the brand willing to work with me?” Anderson asked on the verge of losing his patience. Lucas gulped knowingly that Anderson would not like the deal offered. “Kozi Kare….an adult diaper brand….” Lucas nervously stated. Expecting the worst coming from Anderson. “You got to be kidding me. I am not an unpotty-trained child.” Anderson angrily snarled. He grabbed the closest thing near him which was the glass of water he got when Lucas first came to the kitchen and threw it against the wall shattering. “You said you are not a child and yet you throw a tantrum breaking glass in the kitchen. I have been very empathic and patient with you Anderson. You have options. Clean up the mess you did and clear your head. I will be back first thing in the morning and expect an answer,” Lucas said at his limit. Lucas grabbed his leather briefcase and stormed out of Anderson's apartment. Leaving Anderson, to clean up the mess he created. Sweeping up shards of broken glass and pieces of his dignity. Before heading to bed, he looked at himself in the mirror. Was he prepared to change his image to save his career or was he ready to leave Hollywood behind? Become a has been who’s acting career plummeted due to a short temper and an accident. Both were terrible choices. He did not want to make either. Anderson took a deep breath and sent a text to Lucas falling into the only comfort he had left his bed.

DIAPERED TALES FROM THE WASTELAND CHAPTER 1 LEAVING THE LITTLE VAULT War. War never changes. In the year 2077, bombs were dropped across most of North America, wiping it away in less than two hours. But locked underground, protected from the blasts, some managed to escape into the safety of the Vaults. Deep in the heart of Virginia, lies Vault 86. The people of Vault 86 have lived peaceful lives for over ninety years. Most do not know what it’s like in the outside world–that outside the vault, they don’t sleep in cribs, that they aren’t able to play all day long without worry, and that they don’t even wear diapers. Armed with fresh padding, a dino pacifier, and the collected knowledge of his vault, Joe Palmer has been chosen to lead the first expedition outside in nearly one hundred years. But what will he find? *** “You’ve got your paci?” Mom asked, I pulled out my pacifier, tied on a lanyard around my neck. She nodded. “And you’ve packed spare diapers?” She checked my bag again, going through its contents one by one. “You don’t know if there’ll be any on the outside.” “I know mom!” I said, “And yes, I’ve packed spares.” I shrugged her off me–everyone was watching from behind. “Okay. I only ask because I love you, kiddo.” she smiled sweetly. “Already going out… ah. You’ve grown up so fast. Only twenty years ago you were this high!” she said, gesturing just below her knee. “Now look at you!” she leapt on me with a tight hug. “Moooom, you’re embarrassing me!” Even though she was squeezing me so hard I thought I would pass out, I accepted the hug, not knowing if I would see her again. Just before she broke away, I felt her tense up. She grunted a little, then sighed and went limp. The smell of her dirty diaper hit my nose almost immediately. As gross as it was, it didn’t bother me so much. It was the smell of home after all, a home I was about to leave for the first time. “We’re all so proud!” she gave one last, wan smile, then made her way back to the gathered group, waddling around in her freshly-filled padding. Overseer Carmichael nodded. “You’re doing a fine thing, son.” he said, and he gave me a brisk pat on the shoulder. “You get an idea of your surroundings, then come straight back here. Be gone no more than three days, understand?” “I do Overseer.” I gave a determined nod. “Good lad. We’ll have a good ol’ play party waiting for you when you get back.” he winked, and I gave him a smile. “You ready?” I looked around the room one last time. Two dozen or so people had gathered here, out of the three-hundred people who inhabited the vault. All these people had come to see me leave, I nodded to each of them. I was so nervous, my hands were sweaty and I swear I was already beginning to leak a little into my diaper. At least I would have that comfort, that reminder of the vault. “I’m ready.” I nodded to Overseer Carmicheal. The Overseer nodded slowly back, and moved up to the console, ready to open the inner doors. Everyone took a step back, I heard them draw in breath. I touched all of my equipment again, to make sure it was there–my supply bag (with food, spare diapers, and Mister Fancypants the teddy bear, of course), my holstered gun, and my pip-boy. “Joseph Olsen Palmer, we wish you good luck, and safe travels.” The Overseer pressed a button on the console, and an arm swung around to grasp at the inner door. It slid open smoothly, and spun out of the way. I took in a deep breath, refusing to look back at what I was leaving behind, and made for the outer door. The inner door locked behind me with a loud clang, and I was alone. I knew that the people of vault 86, the people I most cared about, were just behind the door, but that didn’t stop my nerves. This was it, the last chance I had to turn back, I almost went for it, went to knock on the door and call it in already. But then I saw everyone’s faces again, and the hope they had for me. So I remained alone in the darkness. Despite it all, I felt the bulk of my diaper keeping me safe under my onesie. Resolutely, I took my green dinosaur pacifier, and stuck it in my mouth. Feeling much better about my chances now that I had Tommy the T-Rex on my side, I stepped up to the outer door. It was angled slightly, tilted towards the floor like a massive hatch. I knew that when it opened, the first thing I would see would be the endless sky, just like the one painted above my crib. But so much more real. The outer door opened with much less grace than the inner one had. The machinery squealed and groaned, as if the vault itself was in pain. How long had it been shut? Nearly a hundred years? Three generations of people had never seen the outside world. My own grandpa had told me stories of when he was little, before the bombs. He’d said that people ‘potty-trained’ back then, and only wore diapers when they were little. He told me how angry he had been when they told him he’d had to start using diapers again, but after everyone began using them, he came around to the idea. Eighty years later, and diapers were the norm. It was terrifying, how quickly things could change. Vault 86 was a place to relax, and let all your worries–potty training included–disappear. Soon I would have to change my own diapers, sleep outside of a crib, and find my own food. My nerves rose suddenly, and I tried not to panic. Why was I leaving it all behind? Why did things have to change? The door inched open, and I recoiled. A golden ray of light shone through the small gap, brighter and warmer than I had ever experienced before. The sun. My panic transformed into excitement. This is why I was going out–to finally see what was outside, after all this time. The door opened completely, leaving a light cloud of dust in its wake. With a broad smile, and a mostly clean diaper, I stepped into the outside world. *** The massive door, with Vault 86 written big on the front, slowly rolled back into place, and I checked my Pip-boy–the slow clicking counter meant radiation levels matched our initial scan. So that was good. I looked around. Ahead of me was a wide, open concrete plain, dotted with the broken ruins of old buildings, and beyond that, the hills. Apparently this place was an airport, once used by soldiers, though I didn’t see any airplanes like the toy ones we had in the vault. My Pip-boy had been loaded with old maps of a town called Blackstone, in what used to be Virginia. My job was simple–match the maps to the world outside. “Oh! This is going to be so fun!” I wiggled about, unable to keep my excitement hidden away. I decided my first job was to update the area right outside the vault, so I waddle-marched all around it, and got some measurements, and made sure that the maps were up-to-date. After about an hour, just as I was coming to the end of my first survey, I realized that without thinking, I was weeing. My diaper had done a good job of soaking the accident (thank goodness) but I stopped as soon as I realized I was going. I didn’t have many diapers out here, and they would need to be rationed, so that meant holding it in as long as possible. I sighed, left with no choice but to endure the uncomfortable feeling of needing to pee pee. At least my diaper was nice and squishy now. I gave the front a poke, and giggled at the way it moved about. “Right then,” I said, taking out my checklist, “Item number twosies! Check for human activity.” The airbase was big, so big that I could barely see Vault 86 in the distance by the time I reached the edge. It was so quiet out here, I was sure that if other humans were around I would have heard some by now. Suddenly feeling very lonely, I decided it would be best if Mister Fancypants joined me out of my bag, and took him to cuddle while I continued doing a lap around the airbase. His legs dangled beneath him, whenever I got nervous I squeezed his fuzzy fur. Mister Fancypants had been with me nearly my entire life, and had insisted on bringing him with me. It wasn’t long before I came across a small group of houses on the edge of the airbase. The need to pee grew with every minute I was walking, but I knew if I could just hold on a little longer, I could save diapers for the rest of the trip. Plus, I wasn’t looking forward to changing myself all the way out here. I’d practiced a lot but I still wasn’t very good. I didn’t manage to hold it very long. Before I had completed another, wider circle around the airbase, I had to stop in a little forested area. I wriggled my legs, and squeezed them together as tightly as I could, but I struggled to push them all the way. My puffy diaper prevented me from pressing them together, and stopped me from holding myself to stop the wee, though I gave it my best shot at pushing into the padding. Before long, I was jumping from foot-to-foot doing a little potty dance. It was very rare that we had to hold our bladders in the vault, normally we just went whenever nature called, and got changed later, after all that’s what diapers were for. Unfortunately, that meant I struggled desperately with the weight of pee in my tummy, and felt a little leak into my diaper without warning. I hugged Mister Fancypants tighter, and tried my best to hold it in, but my best wasn’t enough. “N-nooooo!” Suddenly, the dam burst open, and immediately my diaper grew warm. It spread up the front of my padding, and across my bottom at the back, and made everything soft and squishy. “Aahhhh!” I gave an almighty sigh, and felt myself sag, my legs no longer tense with holding back my accident. The padding around my waist swelled and spread my legs apart even wider, until eventually my stream stopped. “Nnnnn. That felt goooood.” I said with a silly smile across my face. The now pleasantly warm diaper squished when I poked at it, now almost completely saturated. “Wow. I really had to go, didn’t I, Mister Fancypants?” I looked down at my teddy, but he gave me a blank stare back. “No need to be so mean Mister Fancypants, I really couldn’t hold it anymore!” Mister Fancypants didn’t respond. Deciding to continue my survey, I let my soaking diaper sag beneath me as I walked. There was no point in changing yet, after all I still had work to do. Besides the fact that I may as well use my diaper as much as I could before a change, I kind of wanted to find somewhere a little more private, and safe. Despite my earlier confidence being out here in the wild was beginning to give me the willies. My survey ended with a small, surprisingly neat, house on the edge of the forest. I guessed that this was the way into Blackstone, based on my maps. It was beginning to get late, and after wetting my diaper another few times, I decided it might be best to make a little camp in the building. I also quickly realized I should also probably change myself before I got a rash, or worse, leaked. I didn’t want to ruin my onesie. The house looked like a standard pre-war house, the sort I had seen in pictures in the vault. The garden, once cared for, had been left to grow messy and patchy. The wooden fence had nearly rotted away completely, but there were very few weeds, and hardly any rubble, unlike the ones I had seen earlier. I had expected the place to be in worse condition inside, but apart from a small layer of dust and a few webs here and there, it looked almost completely untouched. I stood still for a moment, and sucked thoughtfully on Tommy the T-Rex. “Yes. Dis will do niwcely.” I said from behind my paci. I uncoiled my bed-roll to act as a changing mat. It wasn’t like the ones back home, but it would do. “I can do dis. I can do dis.” I repeated to myself. With a squish that sent the yellowed padding outward, I sat down on my diaper. Getting the old diaper off was the easy bit. I ripped open the tapes, and pulled it open, revealing the very yellow padding beneath. It was all swollen and heavy. I folded it into a weighty little package, and then into a plastic bag–it was important to dispose of the diaper ethically after all, and not just leave it on the ground, even if the world had been nuked to oblivion. Right. I steeled myself. Now that the easy bit was done, things got a little trickier. After wiping myself down with a damp washcloth, I carefully retrieved the clean padding and placed it beneath me. I’d seen the Mister Handy caretakers back in the vault do this a million times, how hard could it be? I powdered over my diapered area, then lifted the front up against my belly, and leant back a little so it would stay there. Then I went to fold the back up. But by the time I turned back around, the front had fallen down again. “Mmmfff! Why is this so hard?” I tried again, but this time, focused on one side at a time. This worked much better, and I was able to stick the left side together with a single, loose tape. However, before I could continue, I heard a loud clang. My heart leaped in my chest, my hairs stood on end. I looked around the empty room, but there was no one there. Just the silence. Quickly, I went to tape up the rest of my fresh diaper. But before I could finish, I heard a familiar voice. “Get out of here, you burglar scum!” The voice called from another room. I shot up, my diaper still half-undone. “Sorry, I didn’t know this place was … well I thought everyone was dead.” “Are you trying to tell me you killed everyone? Good lord!” The voice said, growing closer. It mingled in with a gentle whirring, almost as if… “No I–” I went to protest, but just as the voice rounded the corner, I realized why it was so familiar. “A Mister Handy unit!” It must have been the one keeping the house clean. But something was wrong. The Mister Handy came through the door, from the darkness on the other-side. It’s voice was more crackly than the ones from 86, and one of its eyes was… well it wasn’t there at all. I backed up slowly. “Sowwy! I can leave ifu want?” I said, but the Mister Handy did not reply. It stopped for a moment, and moved its eye up and down, as if it was scanning me. “I-I-I-Intruders will not be t-t-tolerated!” It said, crackling. Suddenly, one of its arms arose with an attachment I’d never seen before–a buzzsaw. It whirred into motion, spinning sharp and deadly, and rushed toward me. “No!” I shouted, my paci fell out of my mouth, and not knowing what else to do I grabbed my gun. But I was too slow, before I could completely draw it, the Mister Handy’s buzzsaw launched at me. I moved out the way just in time, and the saw buried itself in the wall behind me. My gun fell to the floor. I reached for it, but the buzzsaw swooped in and I fell backwards with a crash. The Mister handy rotated, its eye focusing on me like the aperture of a camera. But when the robot tried to rush at me again, it found itself stuck for a moment, before lurching free. That gave me an idea. Quickly, carefully, I aligned myself with a light switch to my back. “Come on!” I shouted, which seemed to enrage the robot. “Intruders will not be tolerated!” Despite the strange nonchalance of its voice, it rushed at me again. I dove out the way, onto the carpet, and the Mister Handy shot straight into the wall. Its metal buzzsaw made contact with the light switch, and the wires inside. Electricity ran through it, arching and sputtering. The lights flickered on for the first time in decades, then sparked off again. I took the distraction to crawl madly for my gun. But I didn’t need it. The Mister Handy recoiled, its head spun wildly. “I-I-I-Intru-d-d-d-W-welcome home s-s-s-sir! I have ma-a-a-ade-t-traditional-carpet cleaner--s-shopping–the b-b-baby is asleep now–” and with a final garbled mess of words, its glowing eyes flickered off, and it went limp. I released a breath I forgot I was holding, and the silence returned again. *** Over the next hour, I dove into the Mister Handy’s wiring. Back in the vault, we hadn’t the resources to spare to send one with me, but if I could bring this one back, or even get it to help me out here… Thankfully, the robots were so important to our way of life in Vault 86, most people learn to take them apart and put them back together again before they turn eighteen. I was never the best at it, but I knew my way around them well enough. I decided to remove the buzzsaw attachment out of caution, and replaced it with a Rob-Co certified posable hand I found in the garage. Whilst I was at it, I renamed the unit Basil, after a pre-war TV-show they showed in the vaults. It was getting dark by the time I found the program settings, the sun was red in the sky, and golden in the treetops. The neon-green light of my pip-boy was all that lit me in the dark room. “Gardener, no. Shopkeeper, no. Driver, not that. Mmmmm, ahha–Babysitter.” I let the program run, and Basil suddenly burst into life again. Immediately, I backed up and held my gun at his eye. The robot rose quickly, and spun about itself. “Re-re-rebooting…” It stuttered, and went quiet. I worried that I had messed up the program for a moment, and quickly put my paci in my mouth for reassurance. Then, “Can I be of service, master?” The robot hovered, clearly waiting for instruction. I frowned. “What mode is cuwwently activated?” I asked through my pacifier. “Babysitter mode is activated, master. Where is said baby in need of sitting?” “Oh, I … right here.” I gestured to all of me. “Oh dear! Well we can’t have you in that state, can we master?” The Mister Handy moved towards me, and I flinched despite myself. “No…? What are you doing?” I asked nervously. “Why, changing your diaper of course, look at the state it’s in! I do say… wheoever put it on you needs a right bloody scolding” At Basil’s words, I looked down. With everything that had happened, I had forgotten to put the diaper on properly, and it still hung lopsided off me. I realized, too, that it had been a while since I last changed it, and I felt a familiar sensation below… “Hang on …” the robot paused, “What do good boys say?” “Pweese? Pweese would you change my diapee? And, could you pweese hurry? I fink I need to pee again.” “Of course!” The robot said, “And what a good little boy you are for remembering your manners!” Basil’s hand patted me on the head and I giggled. It was almost like being back in the vault. With some proper repairs, this unit could be good-as-new. I laid back down and clutched Mister Fancypants in my arms as the robot inspected my bare butt. Basil was much better at changing my diaper than I had been. For the most part, I just lay there and stared at the ceiling, sucking on my T-Rex paci as Basil cleaned me up. It felt good to be properly padded again, with the familiar bulk pushing my legs apart. Basil was a fast changer too, which was good, because I was growing desperate. Almost as soon as he had finished fastening the tapes, I let out a sigh, and felt my diaper expand as I wet it again. “My, my. Wet already! Do you need me to change you again, Master?” “No, I should be fine until the morning. Fankoo!” I slept surprisingly well that night. In fact, I slept almost like a baby. Maybe it was because I was so exhausted from the day, or maybe it was because I knew I had Basil and Mister Fancypants watching over me. Either way, I woke up early the next morning, ready to take on the day’s challenge–going further afield. Basil changed me out of a thoroughly soaked diaper, and together we made our way out. With a fresh diaper, Mister Fancypants, and Basil by my side, things were looking up. Perhaps, finally, I would be able to see what remained of the world, after all this time… END OF CHAPTER 1

This story is fairly dark and this first chapter features public harassment and a character grappling with their lack of autonomy. ... Jay knew it was coming before she even got down the metro stairs. A trio of burnout modders, strung out on something–digital or analog, it didn’t matter–saw her hopping down one stair at a time, making the difficult trek down stairs that came up to her waist. One nudged another and pointed, another whispered something, all three laughed. Shitheads like them tended to congregate down in the metro, beneath layers of concrete and metal where the net couldn’t connect, where they could have something approaching privacy from the stream of data floating through the air. If she could have avoided it entirely, she would have, but Jay’s legs were ten inches long, plastic, and that were built with crawling in mind more than walking. Foot travel simply wasn’t an option, and she couldn’t afford even a cheap scooter. (Just leave me alone,) she prayed, pretending that she hadn’t noticed the burnouts waiting in the underground, that their presence didn’t bother her. Maybe they would decide to pick on one of the other people waiting on the maglev. Jay could see a bulky labor bot at the end of the platform, another artificial intelligence like her, albeit one with a body several times larger. She felt guilty even as she wished for harm to fall on the worker bot, but she wished it all the same–if the modders picked on them, they wouldn’t pick on her. Despite her wishes, one of the modders took a step towards Jay. “You’re one of those Messy Betsy dolls, right?” His voice sounded modulated, like he had an autotuner installed in his throat, and she could see that his eyes were both cybernetic and heavily dilated, apertures opened nearly all the way. Jay almost kept silent, but if she ignored them, they’d only antagonize her further. There was no way to win here. She sighed, but explained, “I’m a Jessy doll.” “Huh?” “A spinoff,” she explained, looking up at him. Everyone towered over her, except for a handful of other AIs in small bodies, and she was used to staring up in order to make eye contact. “Betsy came first, I came along the next holiday season.” She said this as a historical fact, but it felt like talking about a stranger. She couldn’t remember much of her time as a doll, as property, the time when she’d lacked legal rights as a person or even the ability to think of herself as a person. The modder scratched his head, refocusing his questions. “Okay, but…you’re one of the diaper shitting dolls.” And there it was. It didn’t matter that she wore a dress that came down below her knees to hide her all-too-necessary diaper, it didn’t matter that she had a backpack to hide the silhouette of the pull-string handle built into her back. Her face, her voice, her stature–it all announced to the world what she was. She could have legal autonomy, she could have the same rights as any organic human, but she was still the Diaper Shitting Doll. Laughing, stumbling over his words, a second burnout leaned around her friend. “I’ll give you five credits if you do the thing.” Jay considered it, genuinely wondering if it would be worthwhile. Not for the credits–though she desperately wanted the money–but just to get them to back down. If she gave in, submitted to their harassment, would they leave her alone, or would they escalate? (No, I’m not just going to give in.) “No,” she said. “I’m not interested.” The burnout got closer, legs whirring with servos as she approached. From her vantage point on the ground, Jay got a great view of the burnout’s cybernetic legs, marked with the Applied Synergistics logo, the same logo stamped on the back of Jay’s neck above her charging port. The company had gone out of business after the AI Rights revolution, but their stamp on the world remained. Modders were idiots. Anyone who willingly replaced their real human body with artificial parts deserved to be locked out of their limbs by software incompatibility. Junkie modders were worse–they didn’t just replace their bodies, they spent most of their time frying their brains as well. “Come onnnn,” the burnout slurred. “It smells like cupcakes, right? So what’s the harm?” Jay considered explaining. ‘To you it will smell like cake batter, but I’m hardwired so that it’ll still smell foul to me. Besides, I don’t have time to change, and I can’t afford to waste my money on diapers.’ She knew immediately that the explanation would only egg them on, encouraging the modders further. (Where’s the maglev? It’s supposed to be here.) “I’m just trying to get to a job interview.” In the hopes it might soothe their egos, she added, “Please.” “You hear that?” the burnout with the robot eyes and modulated voice asked. “This Synthhead said please.” “Please what?” the third asked. They’d been silent until then, and Jay couldn’t see any obvious cybernetics on them, save for the port on their wrist. “She didn’t finish the request? Maybe she needs help using her words.” Quickly, Jay got a read on the third modder. Their posture, their tone, they thought of themselves as the smart one in the group, and it was probably true. All modders were idiots, but on that sliding scale, this one seemed to at least know what year it was. The modder girl with the cybernetic legs smirked, understanding the implication. “Is that what you need, Messy Betsy? Someone to help you talk?” “It’s Jessy,” Jay glowered. “I’m not even–” A metal leg pushed Jay. Not even a kick, just a nudge, but she had all the strength of a child’s doll and couldn’t resist even the mild assault. She fell back and sprawled on the concrete floor. Jay didn’t run. There was no point, even with maximum effort she topped out at a two-mile-per-hour waddle. She shut her eyes and waited. The first modder picked her up by the collar of her dress, and she felt her backpack as it was pulled away. She just went limp, accepting it. Maybe they would strip her, gawking at the smooth plastic where genitals should have gone, or maybe it would be enough to take her dress and laugh at her dolly diaper. Sure enough, a set of hands flipped her dress up, and the three modders laughed, cackling like hyenas. “Not such a Chatty Cathy, now?” the autotuned voice asked. “I bet I know what’ll make you talk.” Fingers crept up beneath her aftermarket dress, and she felt the grip close around the plastic ring built into her back. There was a moment of pressure, a slight tug that engaged with an automatic function built into her body, then she felt the string as it extended, pulled out to trigger her speech function. For just a moment, Jay indulged in a fantasy of freedom. Maybe the string would break in a way that rendered it inert. Maybe she’d be able to afford refurbishment services, to remove it completely, to remove her need for diapers, to give her an actual pussy so she wouldn’t be an inert, smooth doll. Maybe she’d just be able to take the maglev without some shitheads giving her a hard time for existing. But not today. The pullstring reached its maximum point of tension, thrumming in her body like the precipice before an orgasm, then released. The automatic functions in her body took over, and her voice piped up with a shrill, desperate volume. “OH NO!” Jay whimpered. “I’m going potty!” With the announcement came a horribly familiar loss of control. Her legs, dangling in the air, trembled, and her bowels pushed, rapidly pouring their contents out into her diaper. The doll’s designers had been maximalists. This was no small little oopsie–solid mush packed into her diaper, inflating it, making it sag and bulge and staining her diaper a deep brown. The smell hit her especially hard, as she’d been designed to react negatively, to cry and fuss whenever she needed a change; the stink made her nose wrinkle automatically and she tried to take shallow breaths. “Gross,” the autotune modder commented in modulated tones. “And–wow, it does smell like cupcakes, doesn’t it?” “I don’t get it, who would want a doll like this?” cyber-legs added. The smart one just said, “Come on, Messy Betsy. Say it again.” They knew it was wrong, they were saying a different name just to make Jay mad, but she took the bait anyway. She couldn’t make them put her down, she couldn’t get away, but she opened her eyes and glared. “It’s Jessy.” The third modder tightened their grip around the pullstring, giving just enough resistance that Jay could feel the mechanism engage, like a feeling of deja vu, trying to remember something on the tip of her tongue, a not-quite sensation. “Come on,” they repeated. “Say it, or I’ll make you say it.” Jay couldn’t call the fuzz, law enforcement wouldn’t help her. There were a couple bystanders at the stop, but none that were willing to help. And, Jay knew, if they pulled the drawstring again, her body would be emptied out. She only held enough for two pulls. The sensation of a full diaper was bad, the sensation of an empty stomach was worse. She broke, she gave in. She knew the six pre-recorded lines by heart, she could have said anyone, but she picked the one she thought the modder wanted to hear. She’d seen the adverts, starring another doll with her face, her body, a unique copy of her mind. Trembling, she asked, “Will you change my diaper, please?” The modder smirked. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Then, with a yank, they pulled the handle, string spooling out and then retracting once again. Coincidence chose Jay’s next line, but it felt more like fate. No quavering, no desperation, just a shameless question that she declared with her whole chest. “Will you change my diaper, please?” Her bowels voided for a second time, simulated mess swelling until her diaper had stretched to its maximum capacity. It didn’t leak or blow out, it was designed to contain precisely two accidents, though the padding swelled like a balloon and sagged almost down to her plastic knees. A hand ripped her dress, tearing the fabric at the waist so that her heavily stained diaper would be visible. Her backpack came away next. The modder holding her let go, and she fell to the ground with a heavy squelch, landing on the swollen seat of her diaper. Laughter rang in her ears, modders jostling each other to get in mocking quips. “Think she’s got anything in here?” the autotuned modder asked, rifling through her backpack. He produced both her spare diapers, her wipes, even the baggie of snacks, plasticky cookies made to mimic the Applied Synergistics-brand treats that had been sold on the doll aisle. She kept the baggie on hand to stave off accident-induced hunger pangs or just to reward herself when she needed to eat her feelings. “Just Synthhead crap,” cyber-legs replied, pointing at the sealed baggie of snacks. “I bet she’d suck dick for one of those cookies, though; they’re supposed to be addictive for artificials.” “Her mouth’s too small to suck dick,” the first said. “And your dick’s too small to feel it, so you’re a perfect match.” They all laughed, even the one who’d been insulted, though he moved on from the topic and focused on the bag once again. “Damn, nothing worth anything in here.” He turned the pack inside out and tossed it onto the maglev tracks, along with Jay’s spare diapers. Someone of a normal adult size might have been able to climb down and retrieve everything, but Jay was barely two feet tall and her things may as well have been on the moon. The bag of cookie snacks he turned upside down, dumping it onto the dirty cement floor. “Let’s get out of here.” The smart one pointed to the stairs. “It’s starting to stink down here.” Jay burned with anger and shame, along with a pedantic desire to correct the modder. It didn’t stink, even if Jay’s nose told her it did–everyone else would just smell cake batter. She had made the mistake of pointing that out to someone who’d been harassing her. That was a mistake she only made one time; it had ended with her face shoved into the front of her diapers, demanding to know if she liked the smell. This time, she kept her mouth shut and just remained curled up on the ground, breathing shallow breaths, waiting for the modders to wander away. A minute or two passed before she felt safe sitting up. Mostly alone, in a torn dress, backpack gone. She still had her Ident card and keys in a compartment in her arm, hidden from any idle thieves, but her body was wracked with hunger pangs and the overpowering stink from her diaper made her feel queasy. Crawling to the cookies on the ground, she picked one up, wiped off the dirt and crud as best she could, and popped it into her mouth. She didn’t have to worry about getting sick, but eating food off the ground still turned her stomach. Still, having something in her belly eased the ache, and she was able to collect herself. There was no point going to her job interview now, but she would have to go anyway. If she didn’t turn up, her profile on the net would be flagged, and her future prospects would grow even more dismal than they already were. Without a change of clothes, without even a fresh diaper, she’d have to take the maglev across town, wait for hours in a dingy room, be called, and then sit through the interview, knowing that nobody in the city would hire a two foot doll that showed up for the interview in a freshly filled diaper. As the maglev whooshed into the station, five minutes late, Jay picked herself up. She hated her body, from her voice to her diapers to her awful, horrible pull string, but it had one function that still gave her a bit of comfort. Squelching and crinkling her way onto the train, attracting smirks and gawking comments, Jay allowed herself to feel a tiny bit of gratitude that she had the ability to cry. ... Part two is in early access for my subs, and will be out publicly soon! My supporters help me write smut like this, and get early access and exclusive stories. If you have a couple bucks to spare around the holidays and think my writing is worth the support, I'd greatly appreciate it! https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

It was a complete moment of serendipity. After my formative sexual years of nocturnal wondering, laid in bed as an adolescent, it became clear my infatuation with some form of dirty fetish was a reality. For a few years I had become aroused by thoughts of being nappied, the underwear of women and large boobs. Separate but also conjoined in my weird fascination between puberty and adolescence of plastic pants, submission and pre-climax homosexuality. Yep, I’m a bit mixed. I was 18 when it happened. The trigger moment that sent me on my way to a short taster of nappy lust. Circumstances would dictate another 30 years until my fantasies could be further indulged but, only on a self indulgent solo basis. I’ve never involved anyone else or allowed my wearing to be observed I’d been out drinking in Portsmouth with a few pals when I decided to get back to barracks before I was too wrecked. The old concrete shopping centre (Tricorn) provided the last infamous loo before the dockyard and I needed to take a leak. It was an austere and foreboding construction, probably an unsafe place for a young inebriated lad alone in this area but I needed to go. I went straight for the sit down as I felt safer behind a door and whilst checking the seat for damp I saw some mixed undies behind the porcelain. This is probably the part where I lose most readers but I feel the need to include the discovery. The excitement and the tipping point of my wearing later in life was borne on this moment. I finished my wee, desperate to recover whatever was on the floor behind me. The cloth was actually 3 pairs of ladies panties, discarded behind the toilet bowl. My heart thumping and without much further thought, I picked them up. They were dry, so I opened them out to see what I had. A sky blue robust high waist pair (instantly my favourite) and two low waist briefs in white and a beige. All 3 had bum skid marks in but no other obvious stains. I immediately thought a guy has worn these but it didn’t stop me from putting them in my jacket pocket. I often reflect on that moment - was it a slant on my sexuality or purely the desire to wear dirty panties or mess myself eventually? Possibly all three as it seems now. My first fear was being searched going back in to barracks. A very rare event but not if you get locked up for being drunk. I walked my best, politely showed my pass and got back to my shared room to inspect my trophies. I’ve told this story on ADISC but in short, the toilets were communal as were the rooms. I later picked my moments, late at night and wore both pairs of the briefs under the hugging sky blue pair. I found wearing multiple layers so arousing. I would sit on the loo in a cubical and play the ‘in out’ game where you touch cloth repeatedly until you ultimately lose and a lump comes out. I loved it and still do. I’d then take off the blue pair and properly fill the little briefs with a tennis ball size (manageable) which meant a quick finish (you know) before cleaning up and the leap of faith to a shower cubicle. I’d wash everything in the shower and hide the cleaned knicks under my towel in the drying room. This lasted a few months and strengthened my resolve to do it properly with a nappy and plastics when I had the circumstances living outside of barracks. A long wait but it was worth it. By then there was eBay, internet and online incontinence shopping. It was so much fun - and alone. I got lovely ladies underwear, layered up with tights, huge used bras that I filled with rice bags. I got suction dildos (for both ends) and was a right tart - but all on my own. I didn’t wig up or wear make up but perhaps I should’ve. I just wanted to be able to walk into the garden and not be noticeable when the moment took me. I never let it show outdoors but gardening became a pleasure. As an aside, since then, I had an unexpected event at work where (as a health care provider) a male wheelchair patient completely shat themselves and I had to perform the clean up. Without going into detail I’d like to say, as you’d expect, there was not a moment of sexual spark in the event. The smell was dreadful and the administration of clean wear was awkward as I wasn’t well practiced. My point being, whilst I’m sure it must be possible to ‘enjoy’ being a carer for a partner - don’t get carried away with the dream of messy diaper pails and wet wipes on testicles etc 🤭 it was gross but we both laughed through it strangely enough. I’m still keen to try it on a willing female but it probably wouldn’t be any better!! I’ll see how it goes. Perhaps write more about the few years I wore regularly, self bondage was my treat but I never got past a few hours in lock up. It’s fun though if you plan enough access to laptop and beers 😉 I’ve read some great stories on ADISC by a guy whose fem partner locked him down proper in bondage and wanded him off ‘eventually’ after hours in a messy diaper - drool. I bet it must be hell in reality Thanks for reading - you wet bums Any like minded (strangelings) please message me your thoughts xx Sparkly

Good Girl Your cheeks are pink as the blood rushes to your face. Hiding behind a wall, you peek your head around the corner every few seconds. Daddy sits at the kitchen table sorting through a large stack of papers with a cross look on his face while Mommy starts the weekly weekend deep clean of the apartment. You watch as she bends down and collects the scattered toys from within the six foot walled playpen in the living room. Unable to help yourself, your thumb wiggles into your mouth and a soft whimper escapes your lips when she takes your beloved teddy and begins to walk away. Crying pitifully, you know that it is just a stupid bear. You are a thirty year old woman with an unhealthy obsession but you can’t temper the flames of anxiety in your tummy. You know that you have to say something, but that’s just what they want and you will not give in that easily… especially not for a stupid ratty stuffed animal. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you wait and wait and wait and - “Can I help you with something, baby?” Daddy’s low and gravelly voice shatters the loudness in your mind. You flinch, visibly startled and step out from behind the door knowing you've been busted. Daddy hasn’t looked up from his papers yet somehow knew you were there. He beckons you forward with the wave of his hand. “Come,” is all he says and you have no choice but to obey. He knows you better than you know yourself. Mommy stands across the room at the washer and dryer, tossing dirty clothes into the machine and you anxiously watch for your teddy. That action distracts you from the hand creeping towards you. The hand that cups the heavy bulk of padding between your thighs that emits an audible squelch. It distracts you from the hand that turns you around so your back is towards Daddy. Only when the waistband of the diaper snaps back against your skin do you jump in confusion. Looking up at Daddy, he makes a chiding sound with his lips. “Someone made Daddy a present.” What? You frown. P-present? “C’mon,” he stands, taking you by the hand but you refuse to move. “Do you want to stay in your dirty diaper all day?” He asks when your feet remain planted to the ground. The words echo in your mind like a stab to the heart. Dirty diaper. Dirty. Diaper. Diaper… A strangled cry escapes your lips and you immediately look down to find your lower half is bare, besides the thick white bulk taped around your waist that balloons out to your knees. Hazy memories flicker in your brain of you and Daddy. Crying and screaming and ulti-ult - matums? You said no diapers. Daddy said it was the only way to stay together. That you had hurt his feelings. You remember the tears after that and promises to do better and be a good girl. You remember Mommy showing up and kissing daddy like you used to kiss him. You remember the fiery anger in your tummy as he held onto her, gazing at her with stars in his eyes and pushing you aside. You remember when this was your apartment and Daddy’s. It was tiny but perfect for the both of you. The kitchen and living room were just one big room with a tiny hall leading to the front door. There were two rooms - what was once yours and Daddy’s, and the office. Sine then the office had been turned into a nursery for you and you could only watch as Mommy laid in the very bed that used to be yours, snuggling up against the man that was your boyfriend. Daddy said diapers were the only way. Punishment for kissing another man and not him. If you wanted to stay together this was the price to pay and you’d agreed because you loved him despite your mistake. Except he never explained why Mommy was here. Why she had taken your place. But that is besides the point. The more you think the more it hurts and Daddy said good girls wear diapers. Good girls listen to Mommy. Good girls don’t question their Daddy’s. And that is enough to keep you from fretting over the fact that you can’t remember the last six months, and why you wore a diaper, and why you referred to Mommy as mommy; and why weren’t fighting to get your boyfriend back and why you accepted this treatment like it was normal… “Ughhh,” you groan and blink heavily against the fog that has encroached the front of your head. Daddy stands before you with his hands on his hips, staring at you with a knowing look. Whatever you were just thinking about has gone from your mind and to your shock you’ve now switched positions. Your knees are bent and you're squatting low to the ground. There’s a hint of a smell, something foul, and that is when you feel the warm brown lump at your back end. It smushed against your bottom, slowly creeping up your back. How could this be? How could you not feel yourself begin to poop - “Baby make a doozy?” Mommy comes and coos, petting back the dark bouncing curls from your eyes. She bends you over like a ragdoll, the same as Daddy and laughs. “Looks like the miralax is working.” Miralax?. Mira… Mir- “It also seems somebody is having a slow day today.” Your head is so high in the clouds that you don’t even acknowledge the insult spat right in your face. Blinking slowly, heavily, Mommy has laid a mat out on the ground. Daddy gets a crinkling package. Thick white squares, your stomach grumbles… “Teddy,” you whimper, suddenly remembering the whole reason you even came out of your room. Teddy is gonna get lonely. Teddy needs a hug. Teddy needs you. You need Teddy. Teddy was your friend. Always tucked into your arm when you waddled like a penguin as Daddy and Mommy went about their day doing grown up stuff like counting the bills and cleaning the house and you were the little girl you’d promised to be. So you and Daddy could stay together. So you could prove your loyalty to Daddy… But now you had somehow ended up on your back. Mommy kneels between your open legs. You watch as she piles her blonde hair atop her head. Daddy always had a thing for blondes… and that wasn’t you. A shiver goes down your spine at the sudden coldness to your nether regions. A stained brown padding is balled up to the side. You're naked from the waist down. Mommy pulls another wipe from the crinkling package and automatically you lift your hips giving her better access. The action is ingrained into your mind. It’s as if you do this everyday. Another wipe. And then another. And another… Too soon you are sitting up again. A massively white diaper separates your thighs so far apart that you couldn’t even close them if you tried. And you don’t. Daddy says only naughty girls disobeyed like that and you are a good girl. You have to be a good girl to get Daddy back. But as you sit trapped within the walls of the playpen and the tv flickers on, you can’t even comprehend the irony of the whole situation. Mommy and Daddy snuggled up on the couch and their lips locked together. Hands on the face that you used to touch, breathing in his musky scent that you loved. All the while, it now belongs to another woman and you sit here in a diaper with your teddy and a grainy bottle of formula in front of the television. Soggy Froggy ribbits to life and you can not help but watch, wide-eyed. The bright flashing colors rope you in as Soggy Froggy begins to sing: “Soggy Froggy likes to hop! Soggy Froggy likes to jump! Do you know what else Soggy Froggy likes? Good girls! Good girls don’t cry and good girls don’t fight and good girls' diapers are never dry. Can you tell Soggy Froggy… are you a good girl?” You don’t know how long the show continues to play but by the constant warmth of your diaper, sky changing from night to day, and the summer months turning to a frigid cold, it doesn’t really matter. You’re Daddy’s little girl… whether you wanted to be or not. ooOoo A/N: Here’s just a little one shot for you all! I’m writing my other story, ‘A Twisted Road to Redemption’ if you would like to check that out but for now, enjoy!!

Room and Board Introduction: This is a story I wrote in 1995, which explains the references to the yellow pages and the glaring lack of cell phones or the internet. It's dark, and loving only in a twisted non-consensual kind of way, so be forewarned. All characters are fictional and meant to be over age 18. Chapter 1 It had seemed like an ideal situation: reasonable rent, near the campus, well-furnished. It only had a few drawbacks. It was just a room in some lady's house, so there was a relative lack of privacy. And the lady seemed a bit odd. Mrs. Williams was in her late fifties, he thought, and there wasn't anything he could put his finger on, but her whole attitude seemed just a little off-kilter. She seemed concerned about things most people quietly ignored. Near the end of Derek’s first visit, for example, she had asked, out of the blue and suspiciously, if he wet the bed. Shocked and a little insulted, he stammered a denial. But she'd just looked at him, as though she didn't quite believe him. And she'd said that she wouldn't rent to a bedwetter, and she showed him a clause in the lease to prove it. He wasn't worried, as he'd never wet his bed that he could remember. But he certainly thought it strange. Everything else about the room, Derek decided, however, was pretty good, and with such a housing shortage in this small college town, he was happy to find an opening on such short notice. The deal included no meals, although he was invited to cook for himself. He agreed to some nominal chores around the house to knock a few bucks off the rent each month. As he signed the lease, he thought about the upcoming year, hoping it would be everything he'd expected. Even into the second week of classes, the decision seemed wise. No one other than the lady lived there, and since he spent most of his time at class or in his room, he didn't run into the lady too often. She didn't work outside the home, but she apparently had an odd schedule. She had friends she visited, and referred to some volunteer work. He never knew when she might be home. But in general, he was happy to have a quiet place to live and study. If he was annoyed about the plastic mattress cover on the bed, he decided he wouldn’t make a big deal about it. He wondered what previous tenant had made her so single-mindedly worried. One day near the end of the second week Derek came home from classes to find her in his bedroom, pulling the sheets off of his bed. He knocked quietly on the open door to let her know he was there. "I didn't know laundry service was included," he said, smiling, putting his books on a chair. Mrs. Williams whirled around to face him, an angry look on her face. Derek stepped back, alarmed at her sudden movement. "I thought you said you weren't a bedwetter," she snapped. "I'm not," he said. This was true. He had never wet his bed. "Look at these sheets. What do you call that?" She held up a sopping wet sheet. He moved closer to see. As he leaned toward the sheet she held, he could see that, yes, there was certainly a large yellowish stain. And--ugh--it smelled of urine. But how? While Derek tried to recall waking up in a wet bed that morning, Mrs. Williams kept talking. "Do you have any idea how much a mattress costs?" she asked rhetorically. "I should have known: you *look* like a bedwetter, that's what the neighbors said. I should never have let you stay here. Oh, dear! I hope the waterproofing held!" She pulled back the wet sheet to reveal the plastic mattress cover, which seemed to have kept the mattress safe. "Oh, thank goodness. It held this time." She turned back to him. "What have you got to say for yourself?" "I...I...don't remember doing that," he murmured, intensely embarrassed about the whole incident and the fuss she was making. He could not remember waking up and thinking anything was amiss. Yet he could hardly deny those sheets; he couldn't explain it other than that he must have blocked it out of his memory. "But I'm really sorry." "Don't forget that this was a condition of the lease!" she told him, shaking her finger. "I should throw you out of here right now.” Derek’s head starting buzzing. That would be terrible. He looked around desperately. Where would he go? But then she appeared to calm down a little and, seeing his distress, sighed. “I'll give you a choice," she said. She rolled the sheet up and set it on the floor by the door, then sat on the bed. "There are two ways to resolve this. One, you pack up and get out right this minute. But I’m sure you'll have trouble getting another room with the poor referral I'll have to give you. In this small town, leaving my house might very well be the same as leaving college; I can't think of any openings at all, much less for a bedwetter. No one wants to open their home up to that kind of abuse." He started to panic as he realized she was probably right. It had been luck, he thought, to stumble on this nice place. Since the college had underestimated acceptances, the dorms were full and every house in town was occupied. What could he do? "Or two," Mrs. Williams continued with a hint of a smile, "we do things Mama's way." This made Derek slightly uncomfortable. Again he thought, she sure is weird. But he didn't really have much of a choice. He at least had to hear her out. So he, too, sat down, hearing the crinkling of the mattress cover. "And what would that be?" "I want you to be able to stay here, but I also want to be able to make sure the bed stays completely dry. How does that sound to you?" He wasn't sure. "Okay, I guess," he replied hesitantly. She paused. "Good. Then you'll see the wisdom in wearing some protection. You see, even with the plastic sheet on the bed, we still have the wet sheets with which to deal every day. No, this is really the only way." He didn't have any idea what she was talking about. Wearing protection? A condom? What the heck? When he didn't say anything, she continued. "It'll only be at night, of course. I could see that you might find it embarrassing. But you could also see it as very appropriate to use an infantile solution for an infantile problem," she rambled on, and he began to get the picture. She saw a look of horror pass over his face, and knew he'd caught on. Her tone of voice told him she wasn't kidding, but Derek couldn't believe she was suggesting what he thought she was. "You can't mean..." She nodded, her face serious as stone. "Yes. It's your choice: you can wear diapers to bed, or you can try to find another landlord's bed to soil. You pick." He stared at the floor, stunned at her absurd proposal. Would she really toss him out? A quick glance at her face was enough to convince him that she would, probably in a heartbeat. And then what would he do? He hardly knew this small town… He felt his face flush red as he realized he'd have to take her up on her offer. He cleared his throat nervously and looked up toward her, though he couldn't meet her stare. "How, uh, long would...*this* go on?" he asked her without emotion, trying to remain distant and seem unaffected. "Forever, of course," she said. And then quickly, "While you're in *this* house, I mean. You think about it, but if you're still here tonight, I'll take that as an agreement to stay. In that case, come tell me when you're ready to go to bed, and we'll get you all set up." She smiled and stood, then turned back before she felt. "Otherwise, feel free to use my yellow pages to book a hotel room, which is probably all you could find. Don't really know what you'd do with your stuff, though. Well, that's not my problem. Either way, get those smelly wet sheets in the washer immediately, or all bets are off and I confiscate your deposit." She left. He spent a little while sitting in silence as he stared at the bed. How could he live with himself for doing such a silly thing? It was embarrassing enough to have wet the bed, but then to be caught and have to be diapered was even worse. How grown-up he'd thought he was coming to college! And then this accident, the most infantile, embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him. But what choice did he have now? He'd paid rent for this month, and he hardly had cash to be throwing around, even if he could find another place that would allow a "bedwetter," since it appeared that this was what he was. No, he'd have to sleep in this bed for a while, at least until the end of the month, when his rent was due. Perhaps by then he could find another place. He washed his sheets, the whole time trying in vain to remember when he'd wet his bed. He must have repressed it, he thought. And the whole thing must have been due to the stress of starting college. Damnedest luck, though, to start wetting his bed now, in this woman's house, of all places. Now he had to go through this embarrassing ordeal. After dinner and studying, he nervously approached her as she sat reading. "I'm, um, ready to go to bed now." "Ah," she said, getting up. "You'll want your diaper then, right?" "Right," he murmured, blushing. She disappeared into her bedroom, and he heard the sound of a package being ripped open. She returned not long thereafter carrying a large, white, disposable diaper, which she extended to him and which he hesitantly took. Mrs. Williams indicated the bathroom, saying, "You may change in there; for now we'll see how you do by yourself. I've left some baby powder by the sink for your comfort, and I'd advise you to use it, since it can get pretty hot under the plastic of your diaper. I'll also tell you now that I've left some baby wipes for your use in the morning if you should need them.” She smiled at him. “One more thing: be sure to use the toilet before you put the diaper on. I’ll explain in a moment, but you won't be able to use the toilet again until the morning. Come out when you've finished and we'll take it from there. And just yell if you need help in there," she said, still smiling. Instead of being reassuring, it was a little creepy to him. He turned without saying a word, since he could think of nothing appropriate to say. He entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him, immediately setting down his diaper and then heading for and using the toilet. What was that all about, he wondered as he urinated. Bathroom "restriction" hadn't been part of the bargain. He could understand the necessity of the diaper, but how did it help for him not to use the bathroom? He'd obviously have to ask about that in a minute. He returned to the sink near the door, picked up his diaper, and briefly considered using the powder before he rejected this idea. It smelled like babies, and he didn't want to be reminded of how infantile this whole thing was every time he took a breath. So next he took off his shoes, undid and removed his jeans, and pulled his boxers down and off. He was ready, he guessed. Derek stared at the diaper on the sink counter, then picked it up and tried to discern how it was supposed to be put on. He hadn't ever babysat, had no younger siblings, and couldn't remember his own diaper usage from his childhood, so he was working entirely from scratch. He opened it up, correctly surmised the purpose of the tapes, but saw that the tapes could be fastened either in the front or the back. He tried to slip it through his legs as he stood there in front of the mirror, but he had no luck. He needed more hands. It was only once he'd sat down on it that he realized the tapes had to fasten in front for him to put it on himself at all, since he couldn't reach the back like that. He actually managed to get it on properly, which was a relief. The last thing he wanted was for Mrs. Williams to have to help him. He didn’t want to feel any more like a baby. After he stood up, Derek readjusted the tapes so the diaper wouldn't slide back down his legs. He looked at himself in the mirror now, standing there in his t-shirt and diaper, and was so embarrassed for having to go through this. Imagine having wet his bed! He wouldn't have believed it had he not seen the spot on the sheets. Facing this "solution" was far harder than any of his classes. He put his pants back on, not wanting Mrs. Williams to see him like this. It was bad enough she'd know he was wearing the diaper at all. He gathered his shoes and underwear and walked to the bathroom door, hearing for the first time the rustle of the plastic of the diaper under his jeans. It made him cringe. When he reentered the hallway, she was waiting right where he'd left her, and her expression as he approached seemed odd. Her eyes gleamed, and her face radiated happiness, as if she actually enjoyed seeing him in a diaper. Well, he thought, she is protecting her mattress and keeping a tenant; she ought to be somewhat satisfied. "Alright," Derek said to the floor. "I'm all set. I'm going to bed." "Not yet," she told him cheerfully. "First I need you to take those silly pants off and let me see just how well you did with the diaper. It doesn't help at all if it's not on properly," she explained as he stared at her incredulously. Derek’s face flushed deep red as he accommodated her, his hands slowly undoing his buckle and zipper and letting his jeans drop to the ground in front of her. "You can just step out of those," Mrs. Williams said quickly. "You shan't need them around here at night, after all." His face aflame, he did so, deciding already that he would never be able to tell anybody, not even his family, about this humiliating experience. He'd come to college to grow up, but now look at him! She knelt in front of him, her face uncomfortably close to his diaper as she inspected his handiwork. He nearly fainted as she reached out and retaped two of the tapes, and he bit his lip when her fingers tugged at the leg elastic and gently pulled the waist up before deciding she was satisfied. "Not too bad, for your first time. It'll get easier, I'm sure. You'll be allowed to continue diapering yourself for now, unless I notice you having any difficulty with the job." Derek refused to imagine this. "Now stand there for just another moment, please," she instructed him before disappearing back inside her bedroom and reappearing with what looked to him like a huge pair of plastic underwear. She couldn't mean… "These are plastic pants, for you to wear over your diaper," Mrs. Williams explained, holding them down to the floor, obviously meaning for him to step into them. "Hold on," Derek said, getting a little overwhelmed. "I didn't agree to this." "But they're totally necessary," she said. "All diapers leak, especially at night, and then all of our efforts will be for nothing. Come on, you're already wearing the diaper; these are hardly any worse." He sighed and stepped into the legs of the plastic pants, which she expertly tugged up his legs. "Wait," he protested. "They don't fit. They're way too tight." "No, no," she said, snapping the waistband up above his diaper. "That's how they prevent leaks." She spun him around to inspect the rear. He felt a slight tug at the waistband, but didn't suspect anything unusual until he heard the distinct clicking of a lock snapping shut. "Hey! What's that?" Derek cried, craning his neck around to see what had just been done to him. "Don't worry," she cooed to him. "It's just a little lock. I have to know you won't take all of this off during the night. You might not even mean to, but things could get dislodged as you toss and turn in your sleep, and my mattress could end up getting wet. You wouldn't want that, would you?" He tested the waist of the plastic pants. It was not uncomfortably tight, but would not give at all. "Well, no, of course not," he said uncertainly. This was more than he'd bargained for, but what could he do? "This is why I made sure you used the bathroom,” Mrs. Williams said. “I didn't want to surprise you, you see. Of course, if you still need to go during the night, you could always use this thing; that's what it was meant for.” She stood up and stepped back, inspecting her work. "Now, doesn’t that feel secure? It might be a little inconvenient, but I have to be able to keep an eye on my little bedwetter, don't I? He cringed at the term. Mrs. Williams went on, “I have the key, of course, and in the morning I'll be more than willing to unlock you so you can get ready for school.” He breathed a sigh of relief. He certainly didn’t want to be seen outside this house in a diaper. “And don't worry,” she continued. “You'll get used to all this; in a couple of weeks, it'll all be second nature to come to me each night for a fresh diaper and your plastic panties. It may seem odd now, but it all makes perfect sense, and you'll get used to it.” "Now let's get some sleep, okay?" And with that, Derek watched her disappear into her bedroom and close the door. He stood there in the hall for a moment, trying to absorb his present situation, but he couldn't. He wandered back into the bathroom, noting that the crinkly sound from the diaper was slightly muted now, and he stared at himself again in the mirror. Now he stared at the balloon-like plastic pants he wore, the white translucent material still affording him a view of his diaper. He could see the lock on the back now, but couldn't reach it, nor did he have the key. He wondered where it was, but only idly, since he guessed that letting himself out would be construed as bad faith, and he would be tossed out the door. Indeed, the only shred of dignity to which he clung was the fact that he had managed to keep himself off the street tonight. Ah, well. His ego would heal itself in time, and this was only a very temporary situation. Chapter 2 He headed back to his bedroom, and thought wryly about her invitation to use the diaper for its intended purpose. Right! How embarrassing would that be, to face her in the morning not only in a diaper but in a *used* diaper? He couldn't be *paid* to submit himself to such humiliation. And how comfortable could it be? So although he was a little worried about his nightly habit of using the toilet in the middle of the night, he still resolved not to use his diaper. He'd simply have to train himself out of that habit for a while. He wasn't surprised to find that he didn't sleep too well that night. The diaper and plastic pants were too new and strange as sensations: bulky yet tight, and warmer than he'd expected. He saw, by the morning, why the powder had been recommended. And he really ended up missing his midnight bathroom trip. By the time his alarm went off in the morning his bladder felt very full, and he eagerly sought out the lady, who was in the kitchen, to unlock him. She did so, and had him remove his plastic pants and give them to her before giving him leave to run to the bathroom. As he struggled out of his plastic pants, she glanced at the indicator strip on the diaper. "Didn't use it? You might as well, you know: you'd never be able to tell it’s wet. They make such good diapers these days. And think how much more comfortable you'd be during the night, especially toward morning. Anyway, you're free to change yourself now. Just bring me the diaper when you're through, and I'll show you what to do with it." He half-grunted a reply as he dashed off to the bathroom, where he quickly ripped off the diaper and relieved himself in the toilet. He also had his morning bowel movement, an event so regular it had been a joke at home throughout his life. Every morning, without fail, sometimes before, often during, and if not, then immediately after breakfast each and every morning. His family at home had nearly been able to set their clocks by it. After a shower, he dressed and headed back out to the kitchen, carrying his diaper with him. She was cleaning her breakfast dishes at the sink, and he cleared his throat to tell her he was back. He held the used diaper awkwardly toward her; she showed him how to wrap it up in itself, and a special little diaper pail in the kitchen where he was to deposit the previous night's diaper when he had removed it. He was to wrap the diaper in front of her and deposit it there each morning. "But you don't really have to throw it away," he protested. "I didn't use it, you know." "You let me worry about that," she chided. "I don't like my boys to wear the same diaper two nights in a row, regardless of whether or not they used it. It just isn't right." He was late for classes, so he just shrugged and left. On his way to campus, though, he wondered about her comment. "Her boys?" What did that mean? There wasn't anyone else in that house, he knew. She must have had some sons when she was younger. Great, he thought. I get to be lumped in with diaper-wearing toddlers just because I wet the bed one time. That night went much the same as the previous night: he went to her when he was ready for bed, he received a diaper, went into the bathroom and peed. This night, though, he put a small amount of the baby powder on his inner thighs to cut down on the sweating he did the night before, and was surprised to experience a flood of remote feelings from his childhood return as he inhaled that infantile perfume. Weird, he thought. He managed to put the diaper on a little more quickly tonight, then went out into the hall to have the diaper adjusted and to have his plastic pants put on and locked. Tonight she complimented him on how nice he smelled, causing him to blush; apparently the powder brought back memories for her as well, he thought. She wished him good night and he went to bed. Again he had trouble sleeping, although he had to admit the powder helped. But his bladder was again uncomfortable as the night went on, and he tossed and turned as morning approached. When she unlocked him that morning, her comments returned to the subject of using the diaper. "I don't understand why you don't just use the diaper instead of being uncomfortable. It doesn't matter, since we always throw the diaper away anyway, no matter whether you use it or not. *I* certainly don't care whether it's used or not. It’s not like I’m going to let you out of diapers if you stay dry. You’ve got nothing to prove to me. Oh, well, no sense arguing: it's *you* that's uncomfortable." Chapter 3 After a week of wearing the diapers at night, he began to get more comfortable with them, managing to sleep fairly well, at least in the beginning of the night. He'd used more and more powder each night, as he discovered how nice it felt, and he began not to notice the smell as much. Derek was even starting to retrain his body not to need the midnight bathroom trip anymore, mostly by restricting fluids after dinner. That way, he wasn't tempted to use the diaper, and he felt slightly less embarrassed about his diaper-wearing that way. He noted the fact that he hadn't wet the bed since that one night, which reinforced his impression that it must have been a fluke. On Friday of that week, he was invited to a party on campus by several of his second-year classmates. He was happy about this opportunity to get his social life in gear, and about the prospect of drinking, which he had done only sporadically in high school and in minimal amounts. He politely informed his landlord, who simply asked him to keep things quiet upon his return that night. She told him to wake her, if she was asleep, for his diaper; she didn't mind, she said. So he went off and happily found that beer was readily accessible in the fraternities, even to underage guys like himself. His inexperience, however, led to the consumption of a bit too much alcohol, and after several beers, he couldn't remember why drinking so much was a bad idea. He walked home at one, and was surprised to find Mrs. Williams still up, reading. He was afraid she'd make a big deal about smelling like beer, but she said nothing, handing him his diaper as usual. His foremost thought, as he went through the motions of peeing and then putting his diaper on, was that he'd gotten too buzzed. Not being an experienced drinker, Derek was nervous about having a hangover tomorrow; he'd asked a friend how to prevent post- party headaches, and the friend had advised him to replace fluids, since dehydration led to many of the hangover symptoms. So once he had his diaper on, he drank deeply from the bathroom tap, until he was satisfied that he'd done all that he could. Mrs. Williams smiled as she handed him his plastic pants, but she still didn't say anything. She'd smelled the beer, and heard the water, and she suspected that tonight would be a special night for him. But he still hadn't figured out why the beer and water might have been a bad idea. When he awoke at about three, however, his bladder ready to burst, he quickly realized his mistake. It was actually painful, and much as he tried, he couldn't drift off back to sleep again. Fully awake, he thought about what he could do about his problem. He could try to hold out until morning, which seemed impossible at this moment. He could wake up Mrs. Williams and beg for use of the bathroom, but considering all of her urging to use the diaper, he (correctly) thought that she wouldn't be pleased to be awakened for such a reason. No, he knew his fate was decided, and his face burned with embarrassment even thinking about it. For the first time since he was a baby, he was going to have to "use" a diaper. The pain convinced him to do it sooner rather than later, so he took a deep breath and pushed his diaphragm down, forcing the urine in his bladder out his urethra into the waiting diaper. He felt a warmth spread between his legs, and was surprised when it didn't really feel that bad. It spread through his whole diaper area, to his bottom and to the front. Before he knew it, the pain was gone, and the warmth of the wet diaper sent him drifting back to sleep… He woke up at eight thirty that morning, his bladder once again full. By this time, however, his diaper *was* not feeling very comfortable, now being rather cold and damp. He gingerly got out of bed, noting thankfully that the plastic pants had done their job. He felt the wet disposable diaper cling to his skin, and he made his way as quickly as possible to the kitchen, where he knew he'd find Mrs. Williams. She was indeed there, and as she caught sight of him waddling in with a saggy, boggy diaper, she let out what was apparently a shriek of joy. Derek suddenly regained his self-consciousness, which had been momentarily suppressed by his discomfort. He realized he was there in front of her with a visibly wet diaper! How embarrassing. And she was anything but discrete about it. "Well, well," she chirped happily. "Finally getting some good use out of those, I see. Glad to know I'm not wasting my time and money. Wow, and a thorough job, too, she said as she unlocked him. "It's not that bad, is it? Well, congratulations." He said nothing, but scurried away to the bathroom to make himself more comfortable. He could think of nothing but his embarrassment at having been seen in a wet diaper. It took some courage after he had showered and dressed to return to the kitchen for breakfast. But he discovered, when he did, that she had prepared a huge meal for him, the first time she had ever done such a thing. He was surprised and pleased, but felt sheepish about handing over his heavy wet diaper to her. He was also embarrassed to have to ask his next question: "How do I, um, clean those plastic pants? They, uh, got a little wet, too." But Mrs. Williams sang, "Oh, never mind them. Just leave them in the bathroom and I'll make sure they're cleaned. Don't give them another thought: it's not at all a big deal." And, happy not to have to deal with them, he sat down for his breakfast. Her special hospitality that day didn't end there. She cooked the other meals for him and did his laundry, and he really had to admit that he liked the help and attention. That night, of course, he did not wet his diaper, and the next day she hardly spoke to him at all. The difference in her attitude was obvious, and he thought it odd. She clearly wanted him to wet his diaper at night, but *why* would she want that? The best answer that he could come up with, considering her frugal nature, was that if he wet at night, then she wasn't "wasting" her money on diapers that weren't used. He had to admit that as weird as she was, he did like her, and he certainly did appreciate her help with chores, which left him more time to study and relax. So...what would be the harm in indulging her a little? She'd already seen Derek in a wet diaper, and she didn't mind. Plus, without his midnight bathroom break he did get uncomfortable toward morning. Why not take advantage? He therefore began presenting a wet diaper to Mrs. Williams every morning, and every morning she would coo and fuss, and that evening he'd have a good dinner and help with favors and chores. This went on for several weeks, and just as wetting a diaper every night seemed more and more routine, so, too, did he forget about finding a new place to live. She made the rest of his life so pleasant that he almost didn't mind the weird diaper thing, which to him grew less and less weird as time went on. He got to where he wouldn't even pause before peeing in his diaper if he woke during the night, and even found himself thankful for the diaper, since he didn't have to get out of bed to use the bathroom. Chapter 4 One morning, after he'd been wearing diapers at night for a month, he woke up with a modestly wet diaper, and sleepily went off looking for the lady to unlock him. When he couldn't find her in the kitchen or den, he stumbled back to her bedroom, where the door was shut. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He wandered out into the living room and wondered what to do, and his eyes drifted outside to the empty space in her driveway. She was gone! This was upsetting, since he had to get ready and leave for class soon, but he trusted that she'd be back soon. For now, though, he was annoyed at having to rearrange his morning routine, since he couldn't shower right away like he usually did. And he had to pee. Luckily, *that* wasn't a problem, though, he smiled to himself as he released his urine into his damp diaper. It warmed comfortably, and he didn't notice how he’d started enjoying the feeling. The diaper was now sagging pretty seriously, though, and he suspected that it might be close to its saturation point. He hoped she came home soon. Deciding he needed to do something productive or he would be late for class, he sat down in his wet diaper and ate a bowl of cereal, consciously missing a cooked meal. As he ate he thought about the day ahead. It was an important day for one of his classes, a seminar that started at nine and lasted all morning. Today they would receive midterm paper topics and exam instructions for the midterm test in a couple weeks. He couldn't miss today. He finished his cereal and, since there was still no sign of her, began to worry in earnest. He had to get to class! And soon, he knew, he'd have another big problem. His morning bowel movement, regular as clockwork, often hit him with an urge that was strong enough to make him run to the bathroom in the middle of breakfast (a fact that had not gone unnoticed by the landlady). The idea of using his diaper for that revolted him. and this was a possibility he did not want to face. He knew such a thing had to smell horrendously, be very uncomfortable, and be far too embarrassing to let *her* see or smell. No, that was a bridge he couldn't, and wouldn't, cross, today or ever. He got up and went back into the living room, staring out the picture window toward the street, wishing her home. Suddenly that urge hit. And true to form, it hit hard. He looked around, panicked. He tugged at his chained waist. But of course it wouldn’t give a bit. A cramp hit him hard. And then he knew. He was going to have an accident. Only he wasn't sure if it could be called an "accident" if he was wearing a diaper. He shuddered at the thought. The urge got worse. He'd never tried waiting and seeing if it went away; he wondered if it could. But it didn't now. It worsened until he had to concentrate on *not* relieving his bowels. He wondered again what a messy diaper would feel like. For how long could he last, after all? Not four hours like this! He wouldn't even be able to walk to class like this. And it worsened still. He managed to walk slowly back to the lady's bedroom. Surely she'd forgive him if he found the key to his panties and unlocked himself just this once. He tried the door, but it was locked. And heavy: he couldn't break it down even if he had wanted to., He didn't want to try, though, for he had a hunch that so much effort might very well make him fill his diaper. His watch said eight forty-five now. This was terrible. He'd never felt as uncomfortable and miserable as he did now. He looked for her car again. No luck. The feeling hadn't eased a bit. It was no use, he knew. A little voice in his head, which sounded suspiciously like the lady's, told him to do the logical thing and mess his diaper. It was a diaper, after all. Another voice chimed in that the lady wouldn't mind if he did; she was odd enough that she would probably even like it, and who knew what she'd cook for him then? In response he allowed himself the small luxury of relaxing his sphincter just a little to see what it felt like, and before he could stop what was happening (he realized it was all over now) his bowel movement pushed its way out into his diaper. The first moments felt heavenly, he thought, as the pressure inside was released, but then as he felt the mess collect and push itself around in the seat of his diaper, felt his diaper fill and pull slightly, felt the warm mushy heat surround his buttocks, it started to dawn on him what he had just done. He'd just deliberately pooped in his diaper. And now that the initial relief had passed, he began to be utterly disgusted with the sensations from within the diaper. How could he have done such a thing? Derek waddled out to the front room carefully, so as not to force the load in his diaper into motion, but was disappointed to see that the lady's car was still missing. A wave of horror washed over him as he realized that he still *had* to go to class, and that now he would have to walk around, talk to classmates and professors, and sit in this sopping, messy diaper he'd created. What if someone saw it? Smelled it? Heard it? And sitting in it for several hours was not something he looked forward to. He cursed, loudly and repeatedly, but that didn't help much. And he had to leave right away, or he'd be late, on top of everything else. Walking in late, with everyone's attention on him, was just the initial impression he didn't want to make, so he tried to hurry. He waddled into his room, feeling his diaper's load shift with every step. As he put his jeans on and bent over to pull them up, his BM smoothly spread itself out over his cheeks and between his legs. He grimaced, knowing that this feeling was only the beginning. He quickly found the longest shirt he owned, hoping to cover up his horrible secret. He finished dressing and waddled to class as normally and as quickly as he could. He was not late, but was not early enough that he felt obligated to talk to anyone. He just chose a seat in the back, and silently endured the three hour seminar, trying not to move or draw attention to himself. He was miserable and humiliated as he counted the minutes to the end of class. He nearly cried twice. He was just so grateful no one seemed to notice him. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe the plastic pants helped contain the smell? At the end, he sprinted from the class back home, ignoring the discomfort this caused him, just wanting to get home and changed as soon as possible. Derek felt relieved, angry, and embarrassed when he saw her car in the driveway. He tried to picture how she'd react, and he almost dreaded the possibility that she wouldn't be grossed out, or might actually be happy at his predicament. She was making lunch when he waddled in silently. He needed to be unlocked, but he was so angry and embarrassed about his condition that he didn't know how to start a conversation. She heard him enter, though, and greeted him. A moment later she sniffed the air and asked if he smelled anything strange. He nodded slightly and looked away. She came over to him and took one of his hands. "Is there something wrong?" she asked him tenderly, sensing he was upset. That maternal action muddled up his emotions, and he inadvertently released his frustration in a flood of tears. "Where *were* you this morning?" he choked. He was pissed off at himself for crying, but couldn't help it. The day had been so bad. She sat him down and pulled him close. "Oh, my little boy, it's alright. I'm here now. What happened this morning? Did you have a little accident?" He sniffed and nodded into her arms, letting her sleeves soak up his tears. "It's okay. Everybody has accidents, and everybody has a messy diaper once in a while. It's no big deal. I'm here now. It's alright." She kept cooing to him and stroking his hair until he stopped crying. "Is it uncomfortable?" she asked sympathetically. He nodded. "And smelly?" He nodded again, aware that he had regressed for a few minutes, but feeling that it was appropriate under these circumstances. It felt so nice to be cared for. "But you don't need to be embarrassed, okay? Because everybody has dirty diapers once in a while, right? Okay. Don't worry about it. Let's just get you changed, okay?" He nodded, but looked at her reluctantly. "What? Do you need me to help, or can you do it yourself? It can be a big job, you know." He finally found his voice. "No, no, it's okay. I'll do it." "Fine. As you know, the wipes are in the bathroom. Use as many as you need to to get yourself clean. And be thorough, okay? Messes can lead to a rash pretty quickly." He nodded, embarrassed. "And just bring me your diaper and your baby pants afterward. Now let's get you unlocked. I've got the key right here." He took off his shoes, then undid his jeans and removed them. He saw that his disposable had leaked badly into the plastic pants, allowing a brownish fluid to accumulate in them, and he knew she could see this as well. But she didn't mention it. She just unlocked his pants and patted him gently on the bottom. He then went into the bathroom to spend ten of the most disgusting minutes of his life removing the diaper and its contents from his bottom and legs. He used dozens of baby wipes as well as toilet paper, and afterward he showered, thoroughly washing his diaper area as she had said. After he dressed, he brought out the disgusting diaper to the kitchen, where the lady had him put it in a ziplock baggie and deposit it into the trash. She smilingly told him that once again, she'd take care of his "baby pants," a term she'd started using so gradually that he hadn't even noticed it. Chapter 5 He was feeling much better about life since he had showered, and when he caught sight of the meal she'd prepared for him, he was genuinely elated. It was great! He was grateful to her for making such a bad situation turn out so well; she was a good mom, he thought to himself before he could stop himself. Landlady, he corrected himself. Or friend, or whatever. Anyway, she was nice. And her kindness took another noticeable step up in intensity after this incident, he noticed. She now cooked all of his meals, drove him wherever he needed to go, did all the housekeeping chores, and even rented movies she thought he'd like on the weekends. He refused to think of it as a reward for having messed his diaper; that was an absurd explanation. She was probably just recognizing that the incident had brought them closer together. And he liked the new benefits, so he didn't think about it too critically. It was just a few days later (after several uneventful, wet nights) when he found himself talking to a classmate, a sophomore girl (who naturally intimidated him). The subject of housing came up. She asked him where he lived, and, wanting to make a good impression, he tried to describe the location of the house. She looked confused, and said, "Not in the baby house, though, right?" A little chill went down his spine. "What do you mean?" She told him that there was an older woman in one of those houses on Oak Street who, every year, tried to snare a freshman boy, turning him into her "baby." "It's pretty freaky, I've got to say, although for all I know it's just a rumor. But the rumor is that she puts the guy into baby diapers, baby clothes, makes him sleep in a crib, eat baby food, everything. Supposedly once a guy gets caught by her, he's hers until he graduates. It hasn't happened for a year or two, so I haven't seen it, only heard about it from upperclassmen. But can you imagine? “Apparently they get sucked in during freshman year before they know better, and somehow get trapped. I don't really understand why they don't walk away. Maybe they like it, but I can't imagine why. I'd bet they'd get teased, you know? Anyway, it's weird. I'd watch out," she laughed playfully, obviously either not taking the rumors seriously, or not suspecting him of being in that house. Derek laughed, too, trying to cover up his anxiety. He thought she must be talking about his landlady. Later, he thought about it carefully. Could the rumors be true? They had to be talking about her; how many other women on his street put their boarders in diapers? But he only wore the diapers at night, and none of the other stuff was true. The stories were too fantastic to be true, he thought. What had happened to him had probably happened to someone else at some point in the past, and someone had found out and blown the whole thing out of proportion. It was probably like a typical game of "telephone", when rumors get exaggerated naturally. Besides, Mrs. Williams was nice. A little eccentric, but not wacko. The two of them had a very nice relationship, and he trusted her, so he didn't see a reason to panic and move out. At the most he'd just keep his eyes open. And for the next week, the last week before midterms, everything was, indeed, as "normal" as ever: he put on a clean diaper at night, and would present her with a wet one the next morning. His nervousness about midterms, his first college tests, was growing. Derek was glad to learn that a big bash was scheduled for the weekend before midterms started, the traditional way on campus to blow off steam before exams. He went, of course, and unfortunately had his first real experience with out-of-control drinking. By the time he stumbled home at two in the morning, he could hardly balance himself. He pushed his way along walls, received his diaper from a rather alarmed landlady, and fell into the bathroom to pee and put his diaper on. He peed, and peed a great amount, but in a very inaccurate way. Then he slumped down on the bathroom floor to try to put his diaper on. He fumbled with the diaper, getting lots of powder on the tapes so that they wouldn't stick. And in his intoxicated state, he couldn't figure out what to do about it, so he did the best he could. He stood up, and it was on backwards, and the tapes wouldn't stick, and he basically had to hold the diaper up with his hands. But he didn't care: he had to get to bed to stop the world from spinning. He managed to stumble out into the hall to face Mrs. Williams. She said something about his diaper and he said he *couldn't* do it right and didn't want to try and could she please just give him the goddamned pants so he could go to the fucking bed. He just watched as the expression on her face changed, and he was led back into the bathroom and seated on the floor. The lady disappeared for a moment, and when she returned she had another diaper. She pushed him back down to the floor, and he just let her do it: it felt nice to lie down, and he was just barely aware of the fact that she removed the bad diaper, put the new one under his bottom, spread lots of powder all over and drew the diaper up between his legs and taped it. With some difficulty she got him standing and retaped the diaper properly, then got him into his baby pants. She looked toward the toilet and said something about his peeing on the floor, but he was too out of it to understand. She said something else and then led him to his bed, where he immediately went to sleep. Chapter 6 He awoke the next morning with a very wet diaper and muddled memories of the night before. He had a bad headache, and he took two aspirins before heading to the kitchen to get Mrs. Williams to unlock him. He immediately saw that she was not in a good mood; this was not something he needed this morning. He brusquely asked her to unlock him so he could change, but she said they needed to talk. Once they were both seated she looked at him sadly. "Do you even know what happened last night?" He shook his head, as it was slightly easier than talking. "Well, I'd better tell you, because we have to deal with it somehow, I'm afraid." Derek was getting the same feeling he used to get when his mother punished him as a little boy, an ominous, foreboding sense that he had been bad but hadn't even known it. "I'm assuming you may have been a little drunk last night?" He nodded. "Well, you peed all over my bathroom, I'm afraid. It's still there if you want to go look." He stared at his feet, not wanting to go look at that piece of handiwork. He was sure she was right, for that sounded slightly familiar. "Not only that, but you cursed several times at me. And you were completely unable to put your diaper on by yourself, which, of course, I had to remedy. Do you remember any of this?" He did, slightly, to his humiliation. She had seen him naked, and had put his diaper on for him. Oh, boy. He nodded. "Well, the first thing is that you wanted to be responsible for putting on your own diapers. Suddenly you're shirking that responsibility, and that's a big problem. I have to know that you're wearing that diaper each and every night, and that you're wearing it properly. Leaks don't help us at all, you know. So if you can't be trusted with that responsibility, I'm afraid I'll just have to assume it." He tried to think of something to say, anything to protest, but she went right on. "Let me finish. Second, as you know, toilet usage is a privilege, not a right. I'd have thought you of all people would have known that," she said, looking pointedly at his diaper. "You have to earn that privilege, and I don’t think you should be allowed in my bathrooms anymore. Normally, that would create quite a problem for a tenant, but in your situation, it would seem as though we have a clear and established alternative available." Again she glanced at his diaper. "My point is that I'm afraid we need to deal with these issues right away to assure that last night's fiasco cannot ever be repeated. As I see it, we need to make two changes. First, I will change your diaper from now on. It's easier for you and I don't mind, especially since I have the extra piece of mind knowing it's done right every time.” Derek swallowed. It was one thing to have her rescue him when he was blind drunk, and he was still embarrassed that she saw him naked under those circumstances. Now she wanted to change him every time? He wasn’t sure--- “Second, you make the small step of going from wearing diapers at night to wearing them all the time whenever you're in my house. We do both of these, and we're completely covered." Mrs. Williams paused. "The trouble is, I know it might be difficult for a boy like you to get used to these ideas, and I haven't yet made up my mind what to do. What do *you* think?" Derek sat with his mouth open. He certainly hadn't expected anything like this, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You can't be serious," he said, rubbing his eyes. His head hurt so much. "Of course I am," she replied. "But you're obviously in shock, and I can appreciate that. I'm not unreasonable. So how about we only do *one* of those two things. And to make it easier for you, you get to pick which one. Okay?" He was still staring into space. "Now look at it from my perspective. I have to know my bathroom won't get abused and that my bed doesn't get damaged, right?" He nodded, conceding this point. "And something has to be done in the wake of last night, don't you agree?" He admitted to himself, with some shame, that it had been quite a performance. He nodded again to her. Something probably needed to be done. But this? "Now, it is my house, and I make the rules. If you can't follow them, you can always leave, as we've discussed. But I like you, and I think you've enjoyed living here. I'd like to work this out, if possible. Because otherwise you're a good tenant, and I'd like you to stay. So take a look at those two options and try to pick one. I'll give you some time to decide.” Mrs. Williams rose from the table, then turned back to him. “Until you decide, though, of course, I'll need to keep you in this diaper, since the result of your decision will dictate how and into what you will be changed. So you go think about it, and tell me when you've decided." She left him sitting at the kitchen table. Derek put his throbbing head down on the table. She'd done it to him again, he realized. She'd sprung something so absurd at him, so suddenly (and right before midterms), that he didn't have any options. He had to study full-time; he had no time to apartment-hunt. He couldn't afford to be homeless right now, so he knew he had to play her game. But she couldn't have planned it this way, right? She was odd, but not devious; he thought he knew that. But the timing was certainly uncanny. So he went back to his room, sat on his bed, and tried to decide which of the two choices was less heinous. He thought about what it would be like for her to change all of his diapers. Pretty big intrusion into his privacy! But then, she'd already done it once. Of course, he'd been drunk and hadn't been that aware of the experience. If he wore a diaper only at night, it would just be clean and wet diapers she'd deal with, not the really embarrassing messy ones. What about the other option? It was absolutely unthinkable. He'd gotten so he didn't mind the night diapers, but that was because they were only partially functional, and then only by choice. Wearing diapers all the time had the air of being totally reduced to baby status, which was too much. He had no interest in having to "earn" toilet privileges. Plus it would obviously mean one or more dirty diapers a day, and a high likelihood of having to wear them out and around again (because what were the odds of her being home every single time he went out?). Furthermore, he knew either of these choices would be embarrassing, but the former choice would be over after several minutes each day and would be confined to night usage, while the latter would obviously be humiliating all the time. So he decided to go with option number one, while telling himself it would only last a week or at most two weeks, until midterms were over and he could find a new place to live. He liked the house, and he appreciated Mrs. Williams, but things were getting a bit weird. Still, he could put up with anything for a week or two. Chapter 7 He waddled out in his wet diaper and told her he wanted the diaper changing option. She sighed contentedly and said, "I'm so happy you'll be staying. I didn't want to drive you away, but I felt something had to be done. And it won't be *that* bad, will it? Sometimes it's nice to sit back and let someone else do the work. Right?" Derek nodded sullenly. His hangover had not been helped by this. He felt a little numbed by the whole experience; it seemed surreal. Mrs. Williams, on the other hand, seemed elated that the issue had been settled. She hugged him; he responded only minimally. "Whoops!" she exclaimed. "I'd better get that wet diaper off of you!" She strode to the other end of the house; he followed tentatively. He felt uncomfortable about the whole thing, assuming this new, passive role. But *she* apparently felt totally comfortable with her new role, and waited for him in the bathroom. He stepped into the room, and she unlocked his pants. He started to pull the baby pants down but she playfully slapped his hands away and did it for him. "Okay, just sit down on the floor while I get out your baby wipes." "You know, I can do this," he said, embarrassed to be so obviously treated like a baby, even as he obeyed her instructions. "I know, but we made a deal. Now lay back and pull your knees up." He sighed and did so, staring off into space, trying to pretend he wasn't there. What would his family think of this? Humming, she leaned over and untaped his wet diaper and pulled it down through his legs, exposing him. She whistled at how wet his diaper was as she opened the baby wipes and pulled one out. "Um, you really don't need to do that," he said anxiously. "I'm just going to shower." "Well, I feel like it's my responsibility," she said, looking at his face through his knees. "I want to leave you as clean after the diapers as you were before. Or even cleaner. Besides, I've *got* all those baby wipes; I may as well use them." And she started at his waist, firmly and quickly covering his skin and gently scrubbing away the remains of the wetness and powder. She did his thighs, his penis, scrotum, and then set that wipe aside. "Okay, now spread some more and lift your knees all the way to your face, please," she directed as she prepared another wipe. "Is this really necessary?" he asked, dreading her next actions. "Yes," she said rather shortly. So he did it, exposing the rest of his most private areas to her. She wiped down his hips and worked her way into his crack, which she held open with one hand and cleaned with the other. This was so embarrassing. She pulled the wet diaper out from under him and replaced it with a clean towel. He dropped his legs instinctively. She picked up the wet diaper and folded it up, saying, "There. That was easy, right? A lot less for you to worry about. We'll be doing this twice a day." Mrs. Williams looked thoughtful. "It's so uncomfortable and cold down here on the floor. I wonder if I could find some sort of table that is more appropriate. Perhaps there are yard sales somewhere today." She started to walk out, but then stopped and turned back to him. "One other thing. For now, I think this will work out fine," she told the naked boy on the bathroom floor (who was trying to hide his genitalia and look dignified). "But anymore slip-ups with the toilet and I'll really have to enforce the other rule as well. Understand?” Derek forced himself to nod. He just wanted this experience to end. “Good,” she said. “And finally, I *do* need that floor and toilet cleaned before lunch today. Now why don't you shower and I'll make some breakfast." She disappeared with the wet diaper, and he was left on the floor to ponder his new living situation. But it was too bizarre. He couldn't really accept it. He tried to see it as a necessary evil during exams, to be remedied later. In fact, he decided to put it out of his mind altogether, and not to let it bother him. He'd ignore it and bear the burden for a week or two, and then move. He had mixed feelings about moving, surprisingly, because of his affection for the landlady. But there were limits to how weird he'd let things get. He shook his head, showered, and got to work studying in his room after an elaborate breakfast. He noticed that Mrs. Williams’ mood was now bordering on mania, and eventually her high spirits brought him around, too (or perhaps it was the aspirin finally kicking in). He knew she wanted him to be happy, and it took a while, but he obliged eventually. Chapter 8 Later in the day Derek heard some loud noises, like furniture being moved, and he emerged from his room to discover that the landlady had somehow brought a large table-like thing into the third, yet-unused bedroom. It looked like an examination table, four feet high and about three and a half wide by six feet long. Covered with a brownish vinyl material, it had several drawers on the side facing away from the wall. She saw him step closer to look, and she beamed with pride. "Pretty good for a garage sale, huh?" she asked, obviously excited and pleased. “And the seller delivered it for an extra $10.” "Yeah, I guess. It's in good shape....but what *is* it?" he asked, confused. Mrs. Williams laughed. "I guess if you don't know, you'll have to wait until bedtime tonight to find out. But it's warmer than the floor!" Then he realized. It was an adult-sized changing table, for him. As she stood next to it he could see it was the perfect height for her to work on him. His first reaction was, strangely, one of shared happiness: yes, this *would* make things easier and more comfortable for both of them. But it also embarrassed him, that he would require such furniture for his diapering needs. He shook his head and decided he couldn’t think about that right now. He needed to get back to studying. His preoccupation with his work must have been what prevented him from seeing this table as the permanentization of his new, more infantile status. That realization wouldn't come until later. The midterm week was difficult, but passed, of course. His exams were tough, but his landlady's help allowed him to study a lot, since he didn't have to concentrate on chores or meals. And while, by the end of the week, he wasn't excited about the diaper changings with Mrs. Williams, he now tolerated the routine, and his embarrassment about the whole thing had lessened somewhat. She clearly looked forward to the changing sessions, cooing and humming throughout them. They would also talk, and during this busy and stressful time, it might be the only talking he did, which was a nice break from studying. So it became more tolerable for him, if not downright enjoyable. His last exam was Friday morning, and he had had to study most of the night for it. When it was over, he was exhausted from the lack of sleep and the cumulative effects of the week. On his way back home, he could think of nothing better than taking a long afternoon nap, and when he got home, that's exactly what he did. It was a glorious nap, and didn't end until about four that afternoon, when he became aware of someone looking at him as he slept. He opened his eyes with alarm, jerking awake to the sight of the Mrs. Williams. She was sitting in his desk chair, staring at him intently. When she saw him awaken she shook her head sadly. He correctly took this as a bad omen, and sat up, worried. "You scared me to death! What's wrong? What are you doing?" Derek asked, still drowsy and confused. She kept shaking her head, saying, "I really am sorry it came to this, because I really like you, and I know it's been hard for you getting used to the diapers." He was now wide awake. "I wish rules weren't rules, but..." She trailed off. "What? What?!" he said, sensing something bad was happening. He searched his tired brain for something he had done wrong. He couldn't think of anything. "Before we get to that, did you finish your exams? Good. Congratulations. So I'm betting you were tired, and had a nap? Great, I hope it was nice..." She was rambling slightly. He asked again what was wrong. "Well, let's see if you can figure this out. Where are you now?" "Right here." "Right. But specifically?" "On my bed, talking to you." "And were you just sleeping in your bed?" "Well, yeah. You saw me." "Yes, I did. Does anything strike you funny about the way you napped in this bed?" He thought for a moment, playing her little game. Knowing her, it probably had to do with diapers. She couldn't mean that he should have been wearing one for his nap? Yes, he thought: that's exactly what she meant. She saw him figure it out, and nodded. "But you said that I only had to wear a diaper at night!" he objected. "No, I certainly did not. *We* agreed that you would wear a diaper *in bed.* We want to prevent you from wetting the bed. That's a definite possibility any time you are asleep in that bed. Right? Look at me. Right?" "But it was a nap," he whined. "Oh, come on. You can do better than that." She was right. He was behaving like a child. He paused as he thought about how to approach this problem like an adult. "Okay. You're right. I'm sorry. Now I know. It won't happen again." Mrs. Williams looked at him and smiled appreciatively at his attempt. "I know that, but unfortunately that's not enough. We need to decide together on a fair punishment." He groaned. He could have expected this. "Such as?" She paused. "I think we both know what needs to be done. I let you off the hook before, but now I don't think there's any way around it," she said sadly. He shook his head. "I will *not* wear diapers all the time. That's too much," he said, looking straight into her eyes. "You ask me to do that forever, and I'm out of here." "Well, I don't want you to leave," she conceded. "So I guess we'll have to compromise. Wearing diapers all the time would be an excellent way to prevent any accidents in bed at all hours of the day and night. And I think it's very important that you experience what that would be like, wearing diapers all the time, so that you try very hard not to make any more mistakes. But I'm willing to have you do it for only a limited amount of time, such as for one week. How does that sound?" "A week?" he asked. "I don't know..." he said doubtfully. He'd promised himself a week ago he wouldn't allow this to happen. But he'd also said that he could stand anything for a week. "Oh, come on," she coaxed. "You don't even know that you'd dislike it." "Of course I would," Derek snorted. "Now listen to me," she snapped. "You came into this house with only one rule, which you promptly broke. We fixed that with the addition of one more rule, which you have now broken *twice* in the space of one week, so far without any real punishment. Is that justice? I don't think so, and I think you know that, too. Now, own up to your mistake and take the punishment like a man, so that we can get back to some peace and quiet. It's just for one week, for God's sake. Don't be such a baby." He absorbed this tirade quietly and knew that in some ways she was right: he had broken a rule several times and endangered her precious bed. Maybe it was time to accept a little punishment and go on. It was just a week. And he'd need at least that long to find a new place to stay. He couldn't move out today, but if he agreed to this, he could start looking and perhaps move out before the week was up. It was sneaky, but it was his only chance of sleeping in a bed tonight and not being entirely humiliated by a whole week in diapers. He nodded his head and looked at the floor. "Okay, you win." She came over and sat on his bed. "It's just a couple diapers a day, not much more than now. It might seem hard, but I need to know I can trust you around the house. Okay?" "Okay." "Okay. I respect you for doing this." She patted his leg. "Now we need to discuss details. Obviously, no bathroom use for a week. I'll just keep it locked so you're not tempted, and that way we won't have to worry about using those nasty plastic panties during the day. I'll unlock the bathroom once a day, in the morning for you to shower, but the door stays propped open so I know you're not cheating. You can brush your teeth at the kitchen sink. And, of course, according to our earlier agreement, I'll be changing the diapers for you. Any questions?" He hadn't thought of this last point. It brought up an embarrassing issue. "Yes, um, can I be allowed to change the, uh, messy ones?" "No, I'll do it," she offered generously. "I don't mind, really. It comes with the territory, of course." She smiled at him, and he smiled very weakly back. "Now, I have one more question for you," she said, turning more serious. He looked up at her, curious. "Are you still thinking of moving out after this week?" There was silence as he discovered that he was not as sneaky as he might think. But might as well be honest; she deserved that. "I'd thought about that, yes," Derek answered. "I'd like to ask a little favor," she said quietly. "I understand about wanting to leave. I do. And that's fine. It's your right, and I understand that my rules, though simple, are sometimes demanding for certain types of boys. But could you please wait for one week before you start looking? Just a week, that's all I ask." She was pushing him again. He'd just promised himself he wouldn't stay the whole week, and she was asking him to break that promise. But he made the mistake of looking into her lonely, seeking eyes. "Uh...well...why?" "Because you might change your mind, and I just want there to be a chance. We'll talk about it next week. You can pretend you're giving notice at a job, because there are some similarities. After all, I'm not sure how long it'll take to fill your room. I need a little time to put an ad in the paper, things like that. And then next week if you still feel like moving out, I won't argue. Okay?" He felt himself caving. He nodded to her. Like a few days would make any difference. But he wished he had a spine. "Thanks." Mrs. Williams rose. "I guess we'd better get started." Chapter 9 He swallowed, not expecting that things would begin so soon. "Um, can I at least use the bathroom one last time?" he asked plaintively. "I don't think so," she said. "I believe in swift sentencing." She smiled. He sighed. She led him into the third bedroom, where the changing table lived. He took off his shoes and socks, and turned away from her involuntarily as he lowered his pants. He hopped up on the changing table, pulled up his shirt, and laid back. He'd done this enough with her he already knew the routine. He pulled his knees up a little as she opened a drawer and pulled out a disposable diaper and some baby powder. He helped her as she pulled down his underpants and slipped them off his legs. "After we do this," she said casually, "why don't you collect the rest of these big boy underpants and bring them to me for safe keeping during the week. You certainly won't be needing them, you know." Already terribly embarrassed, he didn't want to argue. He just nodded and stared at the ceiling as she had him lift his legs. She slid the diaper under his bottom and powdered him heavily all over. Then, as she had for a week, she deftly pulled the diaper up and taped it, had him hop down, and readjusted them slightly for a good standing fit. "Okay, all set. Now if you're wet or dirty, you just need to come to me, tell me what's wrong, and ask to be changed. And I will change you just as soon as I can. I'll try to do it immediately, but that may not always be possible, of course. But I imagine you'll be able to wait a bit if necessary; the diaper's not going anywhere, is it?" She laughed at this. He didn't. "You don't have any classes this week, do you?" she asked. "No," he said. "It's fall break. I was going to go home, but I decided not to when I found out my parents were traveling to New Jersey to visit relatives. At that point, I thought I'd rather stay here; now I'm not so sure," he said glumly. "Oh, we'll do fine all week. The fact that you don't have classes will make things easier, of course. We'll negotiate outings as they come up. But when you're here in the house, and don't have any company, I need to be able to see your diaper at all times, not only to make sure you're wearing it, but also to see when you need to be changed. So, no pants in the house, okay? I'll keep the heat up so you're not cold. Okay?" Derek drew in his breath. Another little surprise. How humiliating that would be, to walk around the house wearing only a diaper, and sometimes a wet or messy diaper at that. But like she said, it was her house, and she made the rules, and if she didn't mind seeing the diaper, then he'd have to cope. He would start looking for a place next week for sure. "So we'll end in a week...well, it would certainly be silly to get you out of diapers right before bed on Friday, so we'll call this thing over on Saturday morning, okay? That's it. See you in an hour for dinner; how's scallops?" Scallops were great, as it turned out, but he was thinking more about his predicament than the food. He sat on his bed after dinner, in his slightly wet disposable diaper, and had a moment of insight. He saw himself as he was, an eighteen-year-old young man willingly waddling around a woman's house in nothing but a diaper, allowing a woman to change him whenever he got wet or dirty. How bizarre and disgusting it seemed! Yet he'd agreed to it. He thought again about what that sophomore girl had said and now could see that this was obviously the same house to which she'd referred. And to a certain extent, he'd been taken in just as she'd said. He knew now why the other boys hadn't "just run away." It had snuck up on them, like it had on him, one weird little thing at a time, until she was changing his diaper twenty-four hours a day. The good thing, though, was that he now could see clearly what was happening, and even knew, through that girl, where it might all head if he weren't careful. He had insight, and that protected him, he thought. True, what had happened so far was strange, but he was going to catch it before it went too far. He wasn't being held captive, and he would leave in one week's time (or whenever he could find a new place to stay). He was also protected by the fact that he had such a good relationship with Mrs. Williams; they could talk, and she had already accepted the fact that he was moving out. So the babifying process would undoubtedly end here. He almost laughed about it now, how silly he'd been to have come even this far. But thank goodness he'd realized the mistake in time. Chapter 10 Buoyed by his new confidence about the situation, he tried to relax and enjoy the lady's company, as they still got along well despite the "punishment." In fact, she seemed even happier than usual, which didn't surprise him, but he was content to take advantage of it. They watched TV all evening, and periodically he would go out to the kitchen to be alone for a moment so he could pee in private. Soon his diaper became quite boggy, and though he wanted to keep the number of changes down to a minimum, he couldn't keep her from noticing the diaper's sag. "Looks like there's a little boy with wet pants," she said cheerfully, making him blush. "Come on, let's go change that wet diaper." During the diaper change, Mrs. Williams mentioned that as long as he was in diapers, it didn't hurt to take advantage of them. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Well, one of the best parts about wearing a diaper is that you don't have to worry about sphincter tone, which takes more concentration than you realize." "No, it doesn't. It's easy." Derek didn’t know what she was talking about. "Oh, yeah?" she challenged. "Then try to keep it relaxed for a while. Heck, try it all week. See how nice it is not to worry about it. See how relaxed you can be; you might as well, because you'll never again get the opportunity. It's interesting to see what the body normally does that you're not even aware of. Test the limits of your consciousness this week; see how aware you are and if you can change it." Science had always attracted him, and this little experiment sounded interesting. He hardly saw the harm in it; it was just a week, after all, and it was a unique challenge. So after he was changed, he started trying to relax completely, and began to train the appropriate muscles to relax more often. It might keep the week interesting. The following morning was something he knew in advance he would *not* enjoy, as he was sure it would be the occasion of his regular bowel movement. And sure enough, right after a breakfast of pancakes, he felt the abdominal rumblings, and he excused himself to his bedroom, where at least he could have some privacy. He found he needed to squat to get it out, and as he did so, he remembered the displeasure he'd felt the first time. This time, too, the sensations that he felt were disgusting to him, utterly gross and uncomfortable. After he was done, and his diaper was full, he stood for a second trying to decide what to do now. Embarrassing as it would be to face Mrs. Williams with his messy diaper, he knew she expected it, and the sooner he was changed (and the less he moved around) the more comfortable and easier it would all be. It might be possible to get changed before his mess got all squished into his diaper. From his perspective, the easier the cleanup, the better. So he waddled into the kitchen, careful not to move his diaper's contents around too much, but he was dismayed, when he reached the kitchen, to find the lady on the phone. He caught her attention and looked at her questioningly while pointing to his diaper. She nodded, put her hand over the phone, and whispered, "I'll probably be a little while. Why don't you go sit down in the living room and I'll come change you in a few minutes?" His spirits sank. He hadn't considered having to wait. What terrible luck. He walked carefully into the den, and, not wanting to sit, stood in front of the TV, watching disinterestedly. After several minutes, he got tired of the odors wafting up toward his face, and impatient with the lady, and he wandered back to the kitchen, again standing in front of her. She looked up, and smiled indulgently. "It's okay," she whispered. "I'm not done yet. Go sit down. I'm sure that diaper will still be there in a few minutes." And then she gently turned him toward the den and patted his rear end condescendingly, inadvertently spreading his mess around a little. He grimaced at that sensation, and, exasperated, he slowly walked back to the den and stood for several more minutes before giving up. He went to the couch and gingerly sat down. He was immediately unhappy he had done so, for he exquisitely felt his bowel movement compress and expand across his bottom, the warmth spreading between his legs. He nearly gagged as he tried to picture what was happening. Fifteen minutes later his landlady strolled in and asked if he was wet. Derek hesitated. "No...It's, well, the other thing." "Ohhhh, does my little boy have a poopy diaper?" she asked in baby talk. He blushed as she held out her hand for him to take, and he self-consciously let her lead him into the changing room, where he gingerly hopped up onto the table. She saw his expression as he gently lowered himself back into his mess, and she laughed. "Relax," she teased. "There's nothing in there that will break." He couldn't laugh with her, for he felt that at the moment his ego was fairly fragile. He laid down, and nearly choked at the smell released by his actions. She, however, seemed not to notice. She lifted his legs and carefully undid his diaper. He closed his eyes, trying to pretend he wasn't there. But she wouldn't let him. "Whoa!" she exclaimed. "You were busy, weren't you? But, then, you're a big boy, and I guess big babies have big poops." She continued talking about his bowel movement, and he continued to try to ignore her as she busied herself with her task of cleaning him. In less time than he would have imagined, she was already powdering him and taping a clean diaper on. "Now that was a lot easier than having to do it yourself, wasn't it? Don't you feel better?" He had to admit that yes it was, and yes it did. And with that initiation behind him, things went more smoothly. He spent his time that week catching up on sleep, watching football on TV, reading novels. She cooked and cleaned for him, and other than the obvious embarrassment, which he found was beginning slowly to diminish, they enjoyed each other's company. Chapter 11 He didn't go out very much, mostly to rent movies for the two of them to watch. It was a pain to get ready to go, and he was terrified of being seen wearing diapers. Several things began to happen that week. One was that Derek became, if not comfortable, then at least relatively resigned to the diapers and being changed by Mrs. Williams. He had to admit it was nice not to worry about the bathroom, and he tried not to think that much about it. Consequently, the second thing that happened was that he was pretty successful training himself to relax over the course of the week. He felt secure about his diaper's ability to contain whatever he could dish out, and he began hardly to notice peeing in them. He decided that despite his complaining, the diapers *were* pretty comfortable, after all. The bowel movements were not pleasant, but they were necessary, and he decided to bear that burden as admirably as he could. Complaining wouldn't help. He just counted the days until he could do it in private again. And by the following Friday, he was wetting freely and without inhibition; there had even been many times that he'd been surprised when Mrs. Williams told him he was wet. So all in all, he spent the week relatively happy, rested, and carefree, though he was certainly ready for Saturday morning when it came. It had been interesting, but he was ready to get back to life as usual. And after the embarrassment of the whole thing, he was still definitely ready to move out. Saturday morning found him lying on the changing table having a wet diaper removed for what he was sure would the last time. He thanked her for releasing him from his disposable confines, and headed off to the shower, where he began to think about how he was going to approach his search for a new apartment. He had kept his word, and hadn't looked yet, but today was definitely the day. In his mind he made a list of areas he wanted to check out. Surely someone had a room they could rent him, and not everyone was a diaper freak, right? As he dried himself off he thought of what he might say if they asked where he had been living and for references. He knew she liked him but he didn't know whether she'd feel compelled to mention to potential landlords the bedwetting incident, or the toilet incident, and he was afraid of how embarrassing that could be if word of the whole thing got out. Somehow, he'd have to swear her to secrecy, or this attempt to move out would fail. He went to his room to dress and was as pleased not to be wearing a diaper as he was disturbed that he hadn't received his underpants back yet. He dressed without them, meaning to ask her about them later. He went to the kitchen for breakfast. They ate waffles in silence, and as they finished, he cleared his throat. "I've decided to go ahead and look for a new place," he said. "It's nothing personal, but the whole diaper situation has some serious drawbacks when it comes to socializing, you know. I've thought a lot about this, and although I like you and everything, I think I need a change." She smiled at this. "You just had one." Then she nodded seriously and asked, "What will you do about your bedwetting problem? You think that will stop just because you move or stop wearing diapers?" He hadn't thought about that. He stood and took his dishes to the sink as he said, "I don't know. But I do know it never happened once before I moved in, so I think it was just a fluke, or maybe related to stress. I've just got to trust that since I'm an adult, that kind of babyish thing won't happen again." As he finished speaking he glanced at her but saw that she wasn't looking at his face; her eyes were directed just above his knees. And then he felt it: a familiar warmth spreading through his crotch. But then he felt an unfamiliar, colder wetness spreading too. He looked down and realized in horror that he was wetting his pants! He hadn't even noticed. He gasped in shock and embarrassment, and tried to stop, but had some trouble. By the time he clamped down enough, dark streaks ran down his legs, and his shoes were wet. He couldn't do anything but stare at what he'd just done, something that hadn't happened since the first grade. He heard her say, "Looks like you've got more of a problem than you thought." "Oh, no. I...I guess it's from this week, when I tried not to hold it. Oh, shit. I trained myself to do this whenever I had to. Damn. How long will it take to train myself back? Excuse me, I've got to go..." "I think you can wait a moment," Mrs. Williams interrupted. "The damage appears to be done, and we've got some talking to do." Derek shifted weight, very uncomfortably, looking down. His legs were getting very cold. Suddenly a light flashed, and he jerked his head up. He couldn't believe it. She'd just taken a picture of him in his wet pants! He stared, dumbfounded, no longer sure of what was going on or who was in charge anymore. She smiled at him, which didn't help his confidence. "I also think we both know you're not really moving out." He tried to reassert his control over the situation. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. "But I am. I'm going out looking today." "In wet pants? That'll go over big. I don't think a lot of landlords are going to be interested in a bedwetter, much less one who pees in his pants." She looked again pointedly at his crotch, which he could feel getting still colder and less comfortable. He caught himself thinking that at least when he wore diapers it felt warm and nice. He shook his head. "But I never used to do this. I don't ever remember this happening before now." "You'd have trouble convincing me of that," she laughed. "And who do you think they'd believe? Me or you?" He gasped. His mouth dropped open. "You wouldn't tell them, would you?" She paused; his heart beat wildly. "Well, you have to understand that we landlords are a closeknit bunch in this little town. We have many similar interests, financial and otherwise. I have a responsibility to share with the others any information I think they need to know. And you already know how I feel about bedwetting.” She shook her head. “So although I like you a lot, I'm afraid that's something they'd need to know." His strength waned, and he felt weak in his knees. This was disastrous. He needed her help, or at least her silence, to get a good place. Last week, that seemed likely, when she'd seemed resigned to his leaving. But this week she seemed determined to force him to stay. But she couldn't stop him if she didn't know he was trying to move out, he thought slyly. He quickly murmured something about her being right, and that he wouldn't leave, and then he tried to shuffle out of the kitchen to his room. He could sneak out and find a room before she knew it. But as he walked past, she froze him with her next revelation. "That won't work either, I'm afraid. It's too late for covert operations. You see, I asked you to wait a week before looking around not because I thought you might change your mind, but because I needed time to notify all the other landlords in town about your little problem.” Mrs. Williams smiled. “I finished that yesterday. And just as I thought, all agreed that it would be `an insurmountable barrier' to a lease. And that was before I knew about your daytime wetting problem." She shook her head. "Can you imagine what they'd say if they knew that?" He was stunned. Absolutely stunned. He knew she wanted him to stay, but he hadn't suspected that she'd lie to him and blackmail him to convince him. He didn't know whether she was telling the truth now or not, but he didn't really want to find out. To be turned down because of wetting himself would be humiliating beyond his wildest dreams. Derek was screwed, completely. He staggered back into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, not wanting to sit down in his wet pants. He was silent for a moment as he made the decision, finally, to confront her. "Why in the world are you doing this to me? What kind of a crazy old woman are you? You want to ruin my life? Well, you're doing a pretty good job. What did I ever do to earn this? Why do you want to hurt me like this?" He was nearly crying now. "I don't want to hurt you," Mrs. Williams said soothingly. "Bullshit!" he yelled. "I've talked to other people. You do this every year to someone. You've got some weird thing about diapers and making people into babies. I've heard about you, you bitch. You can't deny it." She shook her head. "Those are rumors. If you'll calm down a moment, I'll tell you the truth." He stood, arms folded, waiting. Would this be another lie, or the real thing? "The truth is that I care deeply about the students that end up living here. They come into my home and become special to me. They pay the rent; in return I try to satisfy some of their needs while protecting my property like any landlord. Many of the boys I have are bedwetters, and the others I kind of `help' along one way or another. How I do that is a secret, of course." He looked confused. She'd fabricated the bedwetting incident? How? Mrs. Williams smiled at him. "Because whether you know it or not, you all have the same problem, which, of course, is that you're away from your mommy for the first time and need, on some level, to be babied a little. I know what you kids need, probably better than you, because I've seen your kind before, and I know. If they wet the bed, fine. If they don't, I find an excuse to treat them as if they did." She smiled happily at him. "I don't tell them right away what I'm doing, because I know they'd object to this kind of help if it was offered to them all at once at the beginning. So I phase it in slowly, and when I feel that they're ready for it all, *then* I tell them what's going on." With a proud smile, she said, "And now it's your turn." "Turn for what? I don't need any help," he asked angrily. "Well, the fact of the matter is," she began slowly, staring straight into his flushed and angry face, "that you're going to be my baby for a while, and I'll serve as your mommy in this town, until I feel that you've adjusted enough to this college atmosphere that you don't need my help anymore. I'll be honest: that could be several weeks, or it could last the whole time you're here at school. I can't tell at this point." "Are you insane?" Derek asked incredulously. "What makes you think I want this or will let this happen?" "It's pretty simple," she said calmly. "Everything we've done up to this point, the diapers, the changings, everything, has just been practice. Sort of an orientation for what lies ahead. Most boys have the most problem with the diapers, so I tried to phase them in gradually. And you willingly accepted them at every stage, even up through last week, when you wore them all the time, like you will from now on." Mrs. Williams paused and then answered his question. "You see, I'm sure this is what's right for you, so I made sure that it didn't really matter *how* you felt, or if you wanted to do it. It doesn't matter at all what you want. We've come this far, and I won't let all that time and energy be wasted. There is no turning back now.” She sipped her coffee. “When you gave me your underpants last week, I took them all to the Salvation Army," she told him. "It's all over, and, in fact, it has been all over since you signed your lease." "Wanna bet?" Derek challenged. "You're crazy, and I'm getting out of here. I don't care what you've told the other landlords. When I explain to them what happened, they'll understand. It'll be a little embarrassing, but nothing compared to what happens if I stay with you! See ya." And he stormed quickly from the room. Mrs. Williams caught up with him in his room as he was getting out some clean jeans and socks. "I understand how you feel," she said, "but I still don't think you'll leave. I don't think you want me posting these fliers all over campus." She handed him a page that said: ."LOST!! This year's baby from 1169 Oak St.! May be seen wearing diapers, plastic training pants, which may be wet or dirty. If found, please return to his mommy. He's been very bad, and he needs a spanking!" And under the words were a picture of him in a diaper and the plastic pants, apparently taken when he was asleep, with his name and physical description. He grabbed it angrily, tore it into as many pieces as he could, and threw it onto the floor. "I've got lots more," she said quietly. With a wave of despair Derek realized she'd won. He couldn't leave, not without sacrificing his friends, shelter, and dignity. He thought briefly about leaving college, but the thought of that was even more absurd. Where would he go? His cold, wet pants only added to his misery. He sat down on his desk chair with an uncomfortable squish, and asked through tears, "Why do you hate me?" He thought about the past several months, when he had trusted her, thinking she was just a little weird, thinking he was really *choosing* to play her game for a while, when all the time she was deceiving and manipulating him, trapping and humiliating him. Mrs. Williams stood next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. "Oh, sweetie, I don't hate you. On the contrary, I care very much about you. But I had to do this to you because it's so obviously what you need, what will be good for you. Someday I'm sure you'll thank me, but you've just got to trust me for now. It won't be so bad, you'll see. You've already gotten through most of the worst, I promise. And once you accept it, it'll make it a lot easier, too." She talked softly to him, comforting him with a maternal flair that was honed by years of practice. He'd stopped crying by now. "How long do I have to wear diapers *this* time?" he asked sadly. "Like I told you, I'm not sure. At least through the end of this semester, but probably longer. There's a good chance you'll wear them for your whole four years here. We'll just have to take it a day at a time." He sat in silence for a moment, shaking his head slowly and trying to let his situation sink in. "I can't believe I have to wear diapers again." She nodded sympathetically. "Most boys think that they're worse than the other stuff, but you'll get used to it all." Derek looked at her, worried. "What other stuff?" "Oh, do you want to go over it now?" she asked. "Well, I guess we should." "*What* other stuff? There's more?!" he asked unhappily. He'd missed this point somehow. "Oh, yes, sweetie. Diapers are only one part of being a baby," she laughed. "For starters, I don't know if you noticed the attachments on the bed for railings, but it's a pretty secure crib when we get it put together. “Then there are the clothes, which are just darling. They were made by some of my retired friends, who love to see them modeled each year; they've been dying to meet you, but, of course, I've had to wait to introduce you until after today. I've also got some lovely footed sleepers with wrist ties, some toddler pants complete with snaps...you'll love them. “I've also got a nice high chair we need to bring down from the attic, where I stored your changing table, and some pretty bibs. We'll need to get those cupboard locks back out, because you may not like your new diet, which will change kind of drastically. And the bathrooms will stay locked, of course, but that won't be a problem, since you won't have to bathe yourself anymore. You'll love some of the toys I've accumulated; you'll spend countless hours playing with them in your playpen, I'm sure." Mrs. Williams smiled at him as he sat in shock. "I know it's a lot to take in, but if you got through the diapers, you should get through this eventually." Derek just sat there, in shock, his world spinning around him. What would that sophomore girl say? Somehow he didn't think he stood much of a chance to date her now. And his parents and friends: how could he keep this a secret? "Well, let's get those wet pants off of you. She led him into the changing room and helped him remove the sopping jeans. She used baby wipes to dry him as he stood there, overwhelmed with shame at not having noticed his babification over the past several months. How could this have happened? How would he ever endure? She interrupted his musings as she sat on the edge of the room's only chair, saying: "One more thing. You've said several naughty words recently, and you tried to lie to me about not moving out a little while ago, so I think it's time you got acquainted with an important concept in a baby's life: discipline." Mrs. Williams sat on the chair and patted her knees expectantly, indicating that he take the appropriate position over them. Derek shook his head sadly and his eyes teared up as he slowly walked over to her.

So ive had the mild interest in using a diaper to its fullest extent ive read some posts on it and decided what's the worst that could happen so after my diaper was soaking (I had to wash the sheets I leaked so much) I decided to give it a try and the feeling of barely pushing and filling my seat was very nice the squish was nice is was very soft but then the smell hit me and that part was not my cup of tea Overall a good experience the tips and tricks on clean up and disposal were very helpful and was wondering about suggestions for a messing but without the stink

Susanna smiled at the investor, turning to gesture out to their micro office. The five of them, working in a rented loft, still felt like they were playing pretend at business more than actually doing it, but the people who kept writing them checks seemed to believe they were a real operation, and Susanna could convince herself that they were right. “Becca,” she commented, leaning against the receptionist’s desk for a moment. She liked having a receptionist, someone to whom she could assign little tasks. “Would you mind taking a coffee order for our guest?” It wasn’t technically one of Becca’s responsibilities, but the receptionist wouldn’t say ‘no’ in front of an investor, she’d do as she was told. “Maybe in a moment,” the investor replied. “First, let’s talk about our plans for this place.” That was an excellent thing to hear. All thoughts of the receptionist forgotten, Susanna turned her attention back to him. “So…” she pushed the door open to her private office, one of only three distinct ‘rooms’ in their loft–the other two being a small meeting room and the single-stall bathroom. “What do you think?” She walked around to her desk, hoping they’d made a good impression. While they had enough seed money to stay afloat for a couple more months, they needed a big ticket contract or a high roller if they wanted to keep going after that. She’d pulled out all the stops for the tour–dressing up in her best pantsuit, bringing everyone in to work at their desks all at the same time, trying to show that they were a real business operation. The investor, a man named Anton, was a few years Susanna’s junior and had dressed casually, but his watch cost more than her car. Glancing over his shoulder, he set down his backpack, closed the office door behind him, and reached to the side, turning the rod that closed the blinds over the office window so that the employees couldn’t see inside. Anton smiled politely. “I think you’re perfect.” Susanna’s eyes widened and her professional smile blinked into real delight. “You’re ready to invest?” She bent over her desk to grab a pen, hoping they could get a contract ready just then. If he was eager, she wanted to– “Stop moving.” He spoke plainly, without force or emotion. Hardly even a command, and yet… She froze. Bent over her desk, Susanna did exactly as he’d told her, stuck in place like a statue with her ass stuck out. Walking a step closer to her, Anton said, “Piss yourself.” There was no decision making, no chance to process his words. Susanna let her bladder go, a flood of urine pouring suddenly into her light blue pantsuit. A waterfall of warmth ran down her legs, staining the fabric to a dark navy and forming into a puddle around her feet. Susanna’s face flushed, and her heart began to pound in her chest with humiliated terror. “I’ve been looking for a place like this.” Anton raised a hand and slapped Susanna’s ass, hard enough to make her squeak in pain. He squeezed, fingers groping her through the wet fabric. “Small enough that I won’t have any trouble taking command, led by someone who knows how to blush.” Susanna couldn’t even speak, still held perfectly still, but she felt every touch of his fingers as he took his hand away from her backside and reached beneath her chest to grope her breasts. “I don’t need…whatever it is you’re trying to do here,” he continued. “Honestly, I didn’t pay attention during that part of the tour. You’re going to be my…does it go down more smoothly if I call you a ‘Personal Assistant’ instead of a slave?” Swallowing, Susanna tried to find her voice. “You can speak, but do it quietly.” “What the fuck?” Susanna whispered. “How are you doing this?” He took his hands away from her and walked back to his bag. “Does it matter? Take off your clothes.” She whimpered, but her hands were already moving to obey. Standing up straight, she stepped out of her shoes and undid the buttons on her suit jacket, then pulled her top off over her head, stripping with efficient motions. “Stop.” She stopped, midway through removing her bra. Eyes pleading, she asked, “What do you want?” He laughed in her face. “I’m taking what I want, isn’t that obvious? Look me in the eye, finish taking off your bra, leave your pants on for this.” That relieved Susanna, just barely. He didn’t want her fully naked, though she still exposed her chest. She stared at him, unable to look away, unable to cover herself. Anton stepped up to her, looking her in the eyes from only a foot away. “Think about how your panties feel. Focus on that–it’s private, it’s not something most people would see, because you have dignity. You might not even think about their significance often, but you will now.” She did, aware of the way the cotton panties–warm and sopping wet from her accident moments before–rubbed against her skin. Dread built in her as her mind ran down that train of thought. The little privacies that she took for granted, the assumption that her choice of underwear was for her. “These are your last pair of panties that you’ll get to wear,” Anton said. “Apologize to them.” “I’m sorry, panties,” Susanna mumbled. (Is he going to rip them off?) she wondered. (Or, no, he’d made me apologize, he’s going to make me destroy them.) “Good. Now shit yourself.” The command was so direct, so matter-of-fact, that it took longer for Susanna to recognize the humiliation than it did for her body to obey. Face burning, she stood like a passenger in her own body as she felt herself push, filling the seat of her panties with solid waste, all the while focused on Anton’s leering grin. He stepped closer, his body touching hers, and wrapped his arms around her so that he could reach down and squeeze the back of her pants, pressing the mess into her as she stained her last pair of panties. She couldn’t stop him anymore than she could stop herself, and his touch only emphasized her helplessness, her inability to protect her body, her privacy, her dignity. “No more Susanna. You’re Susie now,” Anton told her. Susie nodded. “Go to my bag, take off your pants, and put on the clothes inside,” Anton continued, stepping away so that she could move. When she took a step, she felt the mush in her pants squish, rubbing against her thighs with every little motion. That was when the smell hit her, too, stronger than she’d expected, an overpowering stink that anyone in the room would notice immediately even if they missed the dark stain on the seat of her pants. Unzipping his bag, she found a ‘skirt’ that was barely six inches long, a pink top that looked a little too small for her, along with the more obvious piece of apparel, the one that drew her focus, the diaper. “Your underwear isn’t for you anymore,” Anton said. “It’s for everyone to see. At a glance, we’ll all know how much you’ve humiliated yourself lately, how little you can control your own potty training. Though, if anyone asks, I also expect you to announce the state of your diaper clearly, I don’t want to leave any ambiguity.” Fingers trembling, Susanna slid her thumbs into the waistband of her pants and pulled them down, then moved to do the same with her panties, which strained to hang on around her waist with all the weight they were holding against her skin. “Stop.” She did, of course. “I didn’t say to remove your panties. Leave them on. You’re going to be a dirty girl for a while, I want you to stew in how it feels.” Susie left her panties in place, but unfolded the diaper, momentarily unsure how to put it on. In a crouch, she turned the crinkling garment in her hands and tugged it up between her thighs, squishing the stinking mess against her skin. Fumbling, she got a couple tapes in place, grateful that they were hook-and-loop and that she could adjust them for a better fit once she got the diaper on. A moment later, she burned with shame at herself, realizing she’d felt a positive emotion about the diaper she’d been forced to dress herself in. The skirt came next, and as Anton had warned, it concealed nothing. Her diaper sagged below the hem, puffy and white and heavy from the inherited accident. “Tell me about your diaper,” Anton interrupted. “It’s full,” she replied loudly. “Hmm…no. You can describe it as ‘clean’, ‘soggy’, or ‘poopy’. Try again.” “My diaper is poopy,” she announced helplessly. “Good. Finish getting dressed.” The top was, as she’d predicted, too tight. It clung to her skin and seemed to vacuum seal around her breasts, nipples visible as clear points beneath the elastic fabric. She stood and faced Anton, face burning, eyes watering, in an outfit that seemed equal parts slutty and juvenile. Anton smiled. “There you are, Susie. You will be allowed to change when I say, and you won’t beg for one, or even acknowledge your accidents, except when someone asks you. You won’t even remember how to use anything other than a diaper. Your potty training isn’t gone, it simply belongs to me.” She shuddered. At least if she’d been incontinent, she could have the dignity of luck. If he dictated every time she used her diapers, Susie knew that every accident would come at the most humiliating moments. “Alright. Come with me.” Anton pushed open her office door and– (Wait, he’s going to let everyone see?) Susie waddled after him, forced into an awkward gait by the puffy diaper between her legs. Naturally, everyone in the office turned to look, expecting good news about an investment or bad news about a failed deal, but instead they saw their boss with her nipples showing through a tight top and a smelly, sagging diaper hanging between her thighs. “What the fu–” Becca started. “This is normal,” Anton announced. Becca fell silent, nodding. “Susie is going to be like this from now on,” Anton continued, addressing the whole room. “She’s for all of you to play with. Whatever you want her to do, just say it: she’ll run your errands, make copies for you, wash your car, rub your feet. There are a few rules: You won’t take her out of dirty diapers unless I’ve allowed it, and she’s not here for you to fuck. This isn’t something you will tell anyone about, and it won’t strike you as strange, but you will be aware of how humiliating it is for a grown woman to need diapers, how pathetic it is that she can’t even change herself.” Susie whimpered, wishing she could do something. She could speak, but what would she say? ‘Please’? Becca perked up. “What about after-hours errands?” The receptionist seemed to take to it with more enthusiasm than Susie had hoped, even given the man’s control. He’d normalized her humiliation, but he hadn’t told anyone to exploit Susie’s enforced obedience. That was entirely Becca’s choice. Anton smirked. “Already planning on how to turn her into a maid?” Becca’s mischievous smile made Susie squirm. “Maybe.” “I’m not sure you want someone as dirty as her to be responsible for keeping things clean,” Anton commented, tone dripping with an added edge of condescension. “Susie, can you tell everyone about your diaper?” (Please, no, just–) “My diaper’s poopy,” Susia announced helplessly, and in response, the office burst into snickering laughter. “Show everyone.” She raised the skirt, as though it wasn’t already obvious what she had on beneath, and turned, showing off the sagging seat of the diaper. “My diaper is poopy,” she repeated, wearing a stupid smile in addition to the humiliating outfit. Becca, sitting nearest to her, pinched her nose. “Yeah, we can tell.” That just got more laughter. “Can you control when you go potty?” Anton asked her. She shook her head. “No.” “Do you remember what a potty is?” She tried to think, to form a mental image, but her mind felt hazy. “No.” More laughter. It was as though she were just entertainment, a comedy show for the benefit of her employees. Her former employees. He pointed to a door in the office. Not her office, not the meeting room. “What’s that room for?” She stared at it, trying to remember, but trying to recall the purpose of that room felt like trying to grope in the dark for a lightswitch that wasn’t there. She had only the vaguest idea, but she guessed. “It’s…for…diaper changes?” More laughter, but Anton only smiled with something halfway between amusement and pride. “No, your changes are going to happen where everyone can see, but that’s a very good guess.” Changing his posture, he addressed Becca. “If you agree to be responsible for her after hours, I suppose it can’t hurt to let you use her as well. Are you comfortable with changing diapers?” Becca rolled her eyes, and Susie noticed the contrast. He hadn’t forced Becca to agree, he had asked. She got more choice in whether or not she’d change Susie, than Susie did in whether or not she’d have her diaper changed. “Sure,” the receptionist agreed. “Changing diapers a couple times a day seems like a fair trade.” Anton nodded. “Now…I need to get my new office set up properly. Susie–why don’t you go on a coffee run? You won’t tell anyone what’s happened here, but you will be candid if anyone notices you’ve had an accident.” Susie’s eyes widened as she lowered her skirt. He was going to make her go outside like this? Already waddling to the door, she pleaded, “But–” “Stop.” She froze. Anger flashed in Anton’s eyes and he stepped over to her, raised a hand, and gave her a hard spank on her upper thigh, where the skin was exposed. It hurt, and she yelped. “You do not talk back to me.” He spanked her again, this time on the seat of her diaper, mushing it to emphasize how much she’d filled her panties. “You do not argue. When I tell you to do something, you say ‘Yes Sir’ and you obey.” “Yes sir,” Susie said, eyes welling with tears from the shock and pain. “Good.” Smiling again, he said, “Now, find out what everyone wants to drink, then go get it.” She nodded. “Yes sir.” “There you go, Susie. Maybe, if you get back quickly enough, I’ll let you change your diaper tonight.” He smiled, clearly drinking in her desperate whimpers and pleading looks. “...but I doubt it.” The End ... This was originally written as a standalone short, but positive feedback from my subscribers convinced me to write a sequel! It's a sub-exclusive, set about a month after this, showing how Susie has acclimated to her new life. If you want to support my writing, and read the bonus sequel, you can subscribe to me at one of the links below! The platforms are functionally the same, it just depends on which UI you prefer. https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2128530 https://reamstories.com/page/loqrfhtkkv/story/lrfxkkp06g

2025 Voxy here. A long time ago, I wrote this story from a burst of excitement in me. I was heavily Inspired by other stories Like Exchanged and Making The Best of It, both of which were popping off at the time, and I wanted my own twist in this crazy universe our dear Princess left us. However, like anything hastily put together and thrown out, These first few chapters are incredibly rushed and I glaze over a load of the core mechanics of this universe and what makes it so unique. As such, I strongly encourage you check out the previously mentioned stories that are now in the completed stories section If this is your first time experiencing the Diaper Dimension, as BabySophia and Kimmy do way better a job at explaining how it all works. With that out of the way, I thank you kindly for being here and I hope you give me a chance to deliver you a good story, despite its flaws. Thank youuuu. 2 WEEKS AGO- I was thrown back into my seat as I slammed the gas. The engine roaring as I ripped down the black top. I looked in my mirror and saw my opponent, left in the dust. They had no chance against me on these streets. As I past the quarter mile marker, I let off the gas and began slowing down. I could feel my heart pumping fast and that adrenaline rush felt so good. I rode up to my team and my best friend came up to my window. "9.23 seconds! That's the fastest you have gone yet!" "Great!" I yelled back before cruising back to my parking spot. I shut the beast down and got out, making sure not to ding the wide swinging door on anything. "Alright, girl, that's the last run tonight. Why don't you go get rest some before we get on the road?" My father said, coming mk up to me. "Okay daddy. Goodnight." "Goodnight, my little speed demon" --------------- So my name's Danielle, but you can call me Danny. I'm a 20 year old female from the state of Texas and for as long as I can remember, I've been a car junkie. When I was 9, I was always in the garage with my dad working on his pride and joy. It was a 1970 dodge charger with a 426 hemi under the hood. For many years, we worked on that car. As I got older, I started doing bigger and bigger jobs involving the car. I remember when I was 15, we finally got it running, and it immediately blew out the muffler with a loud bang! When I turned 18, my dad handed me the keys. Ever since then, I've been building the hell out of it, and now, it's the baddest mother fucker around. However my story gets really weird, really fast. So buckle up. ----------------- "Danny, it's almost midnight. You need to come in to sleep." "Just give me another 30 minutes, Dad. I'm almost done installing the new valve covers I just got in!" "Alright then, just don't lose track of time. I'm going to bed." Dad said, before leaving the garage. 'Finally,' I thought to myself. I felt like I hadn't had any alone time since the races two weeks ago. I got back to work installing the new, fully chrome, valve covers when I heard acar come screeching towards the garage door and then a strange zapping noise that made my ears pop. I looked up from the engine bay and realized I wasn't in my garage anymore. Instead, I was in a very shiny garage with a thousand or more tools. Everything looked like it had never been used at all. My car definitely looked odd in this garage since it was faded and slightly rusted in some spots. I'm a girl of performance instead of looks so I never bothered with it. Before I could continue looking at the strange garage I found myself in, my phone began to ring, and it wasn't a number I recognized. I let it go to voicemail and almost immediately, it called again. I answered it the second time. "Who the hell is this?" "My name is Alex Tesla. I'm sure you're wanting to know what is happening to you right now. If you would please walk thru the door behind you, and I'll explain." I turned around and saw a door that I hadn't noticed before. "How did you get my number, and what's going on?" "Please Danny, walk thru the door and I'll explain everything." The female voice on the other end said before the call went dead. 'Can this day get any weirder?' I asked myself as I put my phone away and went thru the door. What I saw on the other side made me gasp. It was a house, but everything was huge! Everything from the couches to the TV's to the kitchen stove was gigantic. 'Yup. it just got weirder...' As I was looking around, a lady came out of the gigantic living room. As she came up to me, I quickly realized that she was also huge. She towered over me and it nearly scared me to death. I started to back up against the door when she stopped moving towards me. "Danny, I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay. I am just trying to help you." "Where the hell am I and why are you so damn big?!" I said, my voice shaking slightly, giving away my fear more than I wanted to. "You're perfectly safe in my home, sweetie. As far as the size of me and all of this, maybe it's best if you take a seat." The lady said, motioning towards a chair that I hadn't noticed before. It was actually my size so a slowly walked to it and sat down. "So what is going on? What happened to my home. Was I drugged or something? Is this some sort of fucked up hallucination?" I said, then pinched myself for good measure. I looked up at the very tall lady I assumed was this Alex Tesla that called me. "No. Everything is real, believe it or not." She crouched down Infront of me and gently smiled at me. I couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed from her warm expression. "So, as far as the size of everything, that is because you have been transported to a different dimension. I don't know how to tell you this very easily so I'm just going to say it. You were nearly killed, sweetie." I stared at her like she was crazy. "Nearly killed? A different dimension? What are you talking about?" "I'm sure you noticed the screeching sound outside your garage just before you came here? That was a car that had just lost control, and it crashed right into your garage, crushing you in-between the two cars. I grabbed your life essence with a dimensional portal and took you here and brought you back with our advanced medicine and put you in the garage with your car before you awoke." She said to me, taking my hand a squeezing it gently. "Wait. So you're telling me that I'm technically dead in my dimension?" I said, stunned. "I'm afraid so sweetie." I just looked at her a moment before tears started to build in my eyes. "What about my dad?" I choked up. "Oh baby, it's okay. Everything's going to be okay." Alex said as she wrapped her arms around me in a huge embrace as I tried not to cry "I'll never be able to see my father again?" I said, sniffling. "I'm afraid not, sweetie." She responded, rubbing my back with her hand. That's when I just lost it and started balling. I was always slightly emotional and if this wasn't a time to get emotional. Alex picked my up and held me as I cried. I didn't pay attention to what she was doing too much until she put a bottle in my mouth. "Shhh baby girl, it's okay. Drink this and it will help." Alex said. So I began drinking. Don't know why it was a bottle, but it definitely wasn't the craziest thing I've experienced today. As I continued to drink the bottle, I started to get tired, and before I knew it, i was asleep. When I woke up, I was in a very comfy bed. However the bed wasn't a normal bed. This one had bars going up way above my head. It looked like a crib and I was a bit unnerved by it. As I got up, I realized that the bed wasn't the only thing off. I felt something thick holding my legs apart, so I looked down and saw two things. One, was my outfit was different. I was now in this pastel pink onesie looking thing. And two, was that under the snaps on the onesie, was a thick diaper! 'Why the FUCK am I in a diaper?' I thought to myself. As if on cue, my bladder told me that I needed to pee, and now. I stoop up and tried to reach the top of the crib bars so I could climb out and get out of this stupid diaper, but the top was still out of my reach. At that point, my bladder couldn't wait any longer, and I began to flood the diaper. I couldn't believe it at all. I was fine one second, and then only a minute later, I was desperately soaking a diaper. Nothing in this stupid world made any sense! I began to cry again as all my emotions started to flood over and Alex came in quickly. "Oh princess, don't cry! I'm here now!" She said, picking me up. "I know all this is so different for you but I promise everything will be okay, baby girl" I leaned into her as I sobbed and couldn't help from feeling comforted by her. After a bit, my cries slowed to just sniffling and Alex sat down on the huge couch with me on her lap. I looked up at her and was reminded how huge she was. "I'm sorry... It's just all that's happened. Me dying and all. -sniffle- and this diaper. Why am I in a diaper?" I said, just now thinking about it again. She looked at me softly as she held me in her lap. She then began to explain the world and how it was different than my world as there were littles, inbetweeners, and Amazon's. She was an Amazon and I was a little apparently. She told me about the natural instincts of Amazon's and how the world wasn't built for littles. With everything so big and dangerous, most littles are just seen as babies that need to be cared for. "So I'm just a baby for you then?" I asked. "While yes, you are my baby girl now, I won't be regressing you or anything else like the cruel things I mentioned some of my kind like to do." She responded with a gentle squeeze that was to reassure me. "But you littles are very small and need extra things like diapers and special care." I started thinking about everything she said and then remembered. "Okay, that makes sense and all. But what about my car and that garage that seemed my size." Alex thought for a moment before answering. "Well. I'm a car enthusiast myself and I thought it would be really nice to have a baby car enthusiast mechanic." "Well as long as I get to keep my car, I guess I'm okay with the whole thing." I said, before thinking how crazy I sounded. "Great! I know we are going to have so much fun together! I can already see it." Alex practically squealed. "So before I set the rules of the house down, would like to see my car?" She smiled down at me and I couldn't help but smile back. "Sure." Alex stood up then, and carried me to a much bigger door that was next to the garage door I came in thru. She opened it and turned the light on. "There it is!" She squealed happily. "Oh my god." Were the only words I could get out. ------------ This crazy idea just popped in my head tonight and I scribbled it down as fast as I could. Let me know what y'all think and I'll keep on writing when I can.

I’ve always been pretty good at being discreet when I need. My position hardly changes and I don’t show my strain on my face. However, my old mommy used to know, even when I thought she couldn’t tell at all. She told me it was because I made slight grunting noises and my hand always subconsciously floated to my bottom. What about you?

Hey all! I'm back with a brand new story! This one comes to us in part thanks to the help of @princessdiapergirl who helped me bring this kinky tale to life. Enjoy! /////////////////////////// Heather walked up the neat garden path, leading to her friend's house. It was surprisingly well kept, with pots of flowers of all different kinds flourishing in the sun. Why was she here? Well, to prove that her friend was wrong and that there's no such thing as magic or witches! Honestly, it was just silly that a grown woman should go around declaring herself to be a witch! But Skye just kept on insisting that she could prove it. Heather thought it to be a stupid piece of make-believe, but only mildly entertained it, or brushed it off, because apart from that, Skye was a nice woman, and a good friend--perhaps someday more than just a good friend... But she couldn't let herself entertain such ideas. Heather didn't want to risk ruining her friendship over feelings that might not be reciprocated. The door opened to reveal a tall, blonde woman who looked exactly like you'd expect a witch to dress. A silky black blouse fell to a flowing skirt to match. Silver earrings in the shapes of spiders dangled on either side of her head, and her wrists were both adorned with a variety of beads and charms. "Heather! Come in, come in!" Heather's own aesthetic was altogether the opposite of Skye's. There was lots of pink, mostly everything she wore was some shade of it. Right now, she wore a pink crop top, somewhat gaudily emblazoned with a designer logo across the front, accompanied by a similarly pink skirt, though one far shorter than Skye's. An unfortunate gust of wind would certainly be the last thing she wanted, given its length. She smiled, entering Skye's home and almost tripping over a potted plant along the way on account of her high heels, which she wore despite her inability to walk in them very well. "So," Skye began, leading Heather through her home, "Are you ready to be freed from your skepticism today? I've got quite the *enchanting* day planned for us." "I'll believe it when I see it." She snorted, her haughty nature shining through for a moment. "What sorts of things are you gonna do then? Take a rabbit out of a hat or something?" Skye chuckled warmly, "Nothing so mundane. When I'm done with you today, you will never doubt the existence of magic again. If I fail, I promise you'll never hear another witchy word from me about the supernatural. Deal?" "Deal." She smirked, extending her hand to shake. Each finger was tipped with a ghastly-looking pink nail, far too long to be practical. Just her strange aesthetics. Skye led Heather into a bedroom that had been converted into... Something else. The center of the dimly-lit room was an open space with only a yoga mat covering the hard wood floor. The few pieces of furniture in the room--a bookshelf, a small table, and a mirror that was covered up by a sheet--were against opposite walls. The table was also covered in candles, jars, and just a lot of weird nonsense that Heather didn't understand. "Here we are!" Skye said, "This is, quite literally, where the magic happens." "The magic of your hippy yoga?" She smirked, gazing around the room. "Yoga can be a powerful tool for unlocking the potential of both the body and mind... But no." Skye responded, "The first thing we need to do is open your spirit to the magical forces of the universe." Heather raised an eyebrow "Right, and how do we do such a thing?" "It's quite simple, actually." Skye said before reaching out and taking both of Heather's hands in hers. Heather despised how her face heated up just a little at the contact. "R-right-.." She tried to sound skeptical, but also hated how her voice wavered slightly. Skye looked deep into Heather's eyes, "I am asking you, Heather, to open your spirit to my magic. Will you invite me in? A simple 'yes' is all that I need." Heather wanted to look away, but at the same time she didn't--she wanted to be drawn even deeper into those perfect, green eyes. "... Fine. U-uh- I mean.. yes." The supposed witch released Heather's hand, a wide smile beaming across her face, "Perfect! Now lay down on the yoga mat." she said, turning to her table and fiddling with the various implements there. She huffed, walking to the mat in the middle of the room. "You sure you're not tricking me?" "No trickery whatsoever." Skye said, not turning from her business at the table, "I'm going to cast a spell on you that will forever change your perspective." Skye turned and came over to her friend on the floor with a stick of some kind in one hand and a jar in the other. "Now this might tickle a little. I need to draw my magical sigils on your feet, hands, and forehead." "There- there's no way I'd let you do that!" She squeaked, giving Skye her signature glare. "Relax, I'm not using a permanent marker or anything. It's just a powder mixture. Well, to *you* it's just powder. To me these are powerful magical reagents. But you don't *believe* in magic, right?" Skye taunted with a wink. "As long as it doesn't leave a mark.." She grumbled, conceding and allowing Skye to use the powder. "I promise it will not." Skye said, dabbing the stick into the jar of powder before rubbing it on the tops of Heather's feet in nigh-imperceptible patterns. The witch's friend writhed a little, trying not to move too much. Skye moved on to Heather's hands, which were not nearly as ticklish as the feet. When it came time for Heather's forehead to receive the same treatment, she was able to get a whiff of whatever concoction Skye was putting on her body. It didn't smell bad, in fact it smelled kinda sweet. Kinda like... Baby powder? Heather wasn't exactly sure, as she hadn't smelt that since she was a baby, for obvious reasons. She couldn't help but think that was what it was, but then again what did she know about magic? "And there we... Go!" Skye said, abruptly standing up. "By silver moon and golden sun, let now my will on earth be done!" At first, Heather felt nothing. "See, I told you it didn't-" But before she could finish, she felt a sort of tingle in her limbs, spreading throughout her body. She felt like she was shrinking? What? Looking down, she saw just that, her body shrinking and almost seeming to close in on itself. It felt ticklish more than anything, but upon trying to laugh she found she couldn't, in fact she couldn't speak at all. With a poof of what surely must've been baby powder, she fell to the floor. ..it didn't hurt as she'd though it would, though. In fact, something seemed to cushion her fall. The way she fell to the ground left her lying face down, and since she couldn't seem to move at all, that meant she was incapable of seeing whatever it was. /////////////////////////// Did you know that I'm available for Story Commissions? If you'd like to see your story idea brought to life, you can find my Commission details here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1sKl8NUcpBs609wHqywGSDg-kJRxo219SKblZA5r1GEk/edit?usp=drivesdk

Hello! This is a story loosely based on a real experience I had on a day trip to a little beach town where I had some local apple cider. It was so hot outside and the juice was so yummy that I drank a whole bottle very quickly… only I forgot that apple juice (especially local organic hand-pressed type) is a natural laxative. In a tourist town with very few bathrooms available on a busy day in summer, it very quickly created a potty emergency that took over the whole day. I hope you all enjoy this story that was inspired by the event! … “Okay honey do you see anything else you want? We need to pick up the pace if we don’t want to spend all day just seeing the general store.” I resisted the sudden urge to grab every souvenir and piece of candy I could see and gave a hesitant nod, handing mommy the glass bottle of blueberry apple cider I had picked out. We just finished having a big breakfast at a famous local diner to start our day trip but we were already drawn in by the signs for homemade fudge outside of the little shop. We didn’t end up getting any, deciding it made more sense to stop on our way out rather than carrying fudge around on a hot day, but I still couldn’t leave without getting at least one little treat. Mommy was a sucker for my puppy dog eyes and I knew she’d get it for me if I asked. She set the bottle of juice on the counter and paid for it before taking my hand and leading me outside back onto the Main Street. It was a cute little seaside town that we were spending the day in; full of little shops, small niche museums, ocean views, and family-owned restaurants. Vacation days like this were some of my favorite kind because the places were so busy that no one looked twice if they noticed mommy holding my hand, the slight waddle in my walk from a bulky diaper between my legs, or whatever smells might come with it. Even if they did, we’d be lost in the crowd so quickly that they’d forget about it immediately and I’d never have to see them again. It was the perfect environment to blend in and feel like I was just another little boy being taken on an adventure by his mommy. Out on the street mommy moved us into the shade of a tree while she looked at the town tourist map on her phone. As she mentally planned our root for the day I opened my blueberry apple cider and started to chug - the shade not doing much to cool me down in the balmy summer heat. The only saving grace besides the ocean breeze was that I was wearing just a thin blue tank top with bright green shorts. My shirt had a shark in the middle which had already prompted several verses of the “baby shark” song in the car. And even though my outfit helped to keep me cool, it was amazing how difficult it was to regulate your temperature when you had a big plastic-backed diaper taped around your waist. It was not breathable whatsoever, even when fresh and clean, but especially not now when it was already a bit damp. The pee I let out at breakfast had created a humid environment in my pants that was making the rest of my body feel a bit tacky. A few minutes passed before mommy finally looked up from her phone to give me the plan and start heading to our first location. Just as she looked up she saw me guzzle the last bit of juice left in the large bottle, a few sticky drops trailing down my chin and landing on my shirt. Mommy froze for a moment and instantly I knew I did something wrong. I tried to wrack my brain for what rule I broke but I was already feeling a bit regressed just standing there in my wet diaper and my foggy brain was struggling to use adult logic. “Young man! Did I say you could have your juice yet?” Oh… oops. I shook me head slowly and looked sheepishly at my Velcro sandals to avoid her eyes. “You know the rules mister. Vacation doesn’t mean you don’t follow mommy’s rules. You should have waited until I put some juice in your sippy and then mommy would hang onto the rest. I hope this isn’t going to set the tone for the whole day! Because if you aren’t going to listen to mommy then we can just go right home.” She looked down at him and crossed her arms, and as bad as I felt for upsetting her - I also loved feeling like a little boy in trouble. “I’m sorry mommy… I was thirsty…” I mumbled, handing her the empty juice bottle and wiping half of my face with my arm. “And you’re making a mess too! Stay still and don’t touch your face!” She reached into my diaper bag and rifled around before pulling out a wipe. She tossed the empty bottle in the trash can before taking my chin in her hand and roughly wiping my mouth and chin with then baby wipe. The smell and manhandling only added to my regressed state and I felt my maturity slip further and further away. Once my face was clean, mommy threw away the used wipe and pulled out my reusable water bottle. It wasn’t as fun as my sippy cups at home but for discretion she had gotten me a grown up water bottle to use out of the house. Although she did get me one with a spout that’s about as close to a sippy cup as she could find! “Here is your water, that’s all you can have for the rest of the day. No more juice. That’s way too much sugar! Do you know what apple juice does to your tummy when you drink too much too fast? And not let mommy water it down for you?” I shook my head again, knowing that I should probably know the answer but it felt like most of my adult knowledge was buried under hundreds of blankets in the back of my head. Instead of searching for it, I just gave in to mommy and let her be the one with the answers. “Well you’re about to find out, little man. Now come on, mommy forgives you, let’s just focus on having a good day, okay? Be a good little boy for mommy and maybe we’ll even get ice cream later!” I perked up right away at that and smiled, already forgetting about the juice and whatever mommy had said about it. I was going to be such a good boy! I put the water bottle up to my lips and tilted it up out of habit, drinking it with both hands like it was a big metal sippy cup. As I felt the cool water go down my throat, I simultaneously felt a warm wetness leaving my body and soaking into my diaper. When I finished drinking a moment later I handed the bottle back to mommy and she put it in the pouch on my diaper bag. She had her hand out waiting for me to take it but I hesitated a few more seconds before I did, not being able to focus on the request while I was still wetting myself. Mommy knew exactly what was happening and waited patiently for me to finish my peepee and then take her hand before we started down the street towards our first stop - a little historical house with a gift shop. I may have been oblivious to the consequences of what I had done, but mommy was already planning in her head for the inevitable disaster that was on the horizon. Her plan was just to get as many activities in as possible before the storm. And oh, what a mighty storm it would be… To be continued!

Jennifer Crowley is a promising young woman, brimming with intelligence but also not very imaginative when it comes to fantasy subjects. Little does she know that at the college she's going to her new dorm mate is a witch! Not just that however it seems this girl is absolutely evil with people she doesn't like...and Jennifer isn't well liked by her. So Jennifer now has to suffer under her new roommate...or her new mama. If you wanna do this roleplay hmu in chats or send a friend request to jemmolioni on discord! I'm desperate to roleplay so please give me a chance?

This is my first long story, hope you will enjoy. Chapter 1 "Hey, baby!" I called as I pushed open the front door, hung my coat up, and floated towards the kitchen. The house always smelled nice; there was some homemade gingerbread on the counter, and the sun was pouring in through the windows.My wife, Patricia, was bustling around, whisking up a frothy meringue; her blonde hair bouncing as she hummed to herself. "Hey yourself," she replied with a grin. I leaned against the counter and watched her for a while, listening to the clatter of the utensils against the mixing bowl. The warmth of the house enveloped me, and my heart swelled with love. "So, what's the plan for tonight?" I asked casually, keeping my face neutral. It wasn't like I didn't know - she'd been dropping hints about my birthday surprise for weeks. "Well," she said, looking at me slyly. "I've got a surprise for you." My heart leapt. "You've got to tell me, darling. I can't keep guessing all night." She moved closer, her blouse unbuttoned and her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. "Alright, alright, you'll have to wait a little longer." I chuckled and leaned in, brushing my fingers against her cheek, tasting the lipstick she'd just applied. "Fine, I can wait a little longer," I said, before capturing her lips for a kiss. She giggled and pulled away, returning to her cooking. "Dinner will be ready soon," she whispered, her breath hot and heavy against my face. "Then, you'll see." My curiosity was piqued. I had no idea what she had planned, but the anticipation was making me nervous with excitement. I had never seen her this secretive before, and it was making me wonder if she had discovered my hidden passion. I cleared my throat and looked away, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as Patricia set the table, poured the wine, and flitted around the kitchen. "You know, honey," she said suddenly, "I've been thinking." "Oh?" I said, trying to sound casual. "Yes," she replied, her voice low and husky. "I've been thinking about...your birthday surprise." I froze. So, she did know. "You...you have?" "Mm-hm," she said, nodding as she stare straight into my eyes. I looked at her, feeling my chest tighten and my mouth go dry. "I've been thinking about how much I love you, and how much fun we could have if we just let go of our inhibitions for a weekend." I gulped and tried to process her words, my heart racing in my chest. "I want to give you the best birthday present ever," she whispered, tracing a finger down my chest. "And I think I know exactly what that is." I felt my body tense up as she took a step back, a wicked gleam in her eye. "I want to give you what you've always wanted, darling," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You do?" I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat. "Yes," she nodded, her lips curled into a playful smile. "I know all about your... desires." My mind raced, trying to process her words. Could it be true? Had she really discovered my secret dirty love for diapers and being treated like a baby? "Come with me," she said, taking my hand and leading me towards the playroom. The room was dimly lit, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the new big changing table, a few packages of ABDL printed diapers and some diaper changing accessories. Some bondage gear was scattered about, adding an edge to the comfortable-mysterious atmosphere. I was in shock....

Hello! This is the first (and so far only) ABDL story I've written. I finished it last fall and posted it on Reddit and now I'm putting it and any future stories I write up here too. It's a DL slice of life story about a couple in their thirties with the boyfriend in diapers 24/7. It contains detailed descriptions of diaper usage as well as changing. I hope you like it! Feedback/criticism is welcome. I kept the two characters in this story nameless but plan to name them next time I write about them. A Change After Work It had been a few months since she and I decided to make the dynamic 24/7. After we had moved in together the pipeline from wearing around her to her more actively participating was surprisingly quick. Of course, making it a full time thing was her suggestion. Though it came with its own set of hurdles the payoff was more than worth it to both of us. I loved being in diapers, and she loved keeping her boyfriend in diapers. Now that we were in our early thirties, we had realized that it was worth living in a way that made us happy. After all, it was harmless at the end of the day. As I walked down the hallway to our apartment I felt the familiar pressure down inside and knew what was coming. My tummy was early today. Normally this didn't happen for a couple hours or so. Oh well. I thought to myself as I approached our door. She'll be able to take care of it soon enough. Shouldn't be more than a half hour before she gets home. After entering and locking the door behind me I loosened my belt before unbuttoning my pants and pulling the zipper down. I let gravity take the reigns from there so that my grey pants ended up in a heap around my feet. I stood for a moment and ran a hand over the smooth plastic now on display. This particular diaper had little drawings across the tape landing zone of various cartoon characters, from Looney Tunes to The Simpsons. She liked doodling on my diapers when we opened up new packs and I was more than happy to be a walking display for her art. A small portion of the front had turned yellow, with squishy gel replacing the fluffy filling. It could hold plenty more though. Normally I'd be a lot soggier by now, but today we had synced up our lunch breaks so we could eat together. While I was there she also gave me a quick change. I bent over and removed my shoes, leaving my tan shirt and black socks as the only non-disposable clothing I had on. The pressure continued to build but my body wasn't quite ready yet. I picked up my pants and emptied the pockets onto the table nearby before passing through the living room on the way to our bedroom. I tossed them into the hamper along with my polo and socks, as they were work clothes. Now naked except for my diaper, I walked to the closet and picked a green t-shirt that was my typical size aside from being short enough that the hem sat just above my diaper's waistband. She had customized some shirts for me to show off more of the goods when we were at home. I opted to go without socks for now. I walked back to the living room, my diaper crinkling as I went. I grabbed my phone from the table and a glass of water from the kitchen before heading for the couch. As I swapped what I was carrying for the remote on the end table, the pressure had finally turned into urgency. There was no reason to wait any longer. After all, why bother holding it? I wear diapers. I bent my knees slightly and gently pushed from within. I grunted softly as my body began to handle the rest naturally. Discomfort was replaced by satisfying relief. There was a muffled squishing sound as the remnants of the last day's meals filled the back of my padding, the semi-solid mass forming a considerable bulge in the back. At the same time I peed a little involuntarily. I sighed contentedly as I finished pooping my diaper. I felt as though not only had my bladder and bowels been relieved but my mind as well. As if the stress of the day's shift spent moving to and fro in a warehouse, fulfilling orders for everything from electronics to frozen foods, had also been pushed into the padded seat. A telltale odor hung in the air around me. I reached back and gingerly cupped my diaper seat in my hand, assessing the damage. My eyes widened. This was a big one even for me. Slowly I lowered myself onto the couch, reveling in the warm feeling of the mess spreading over my butt. There was just nothing else quite like it. Suddenly I heard the buzz of my phone vibrating. I picked it up and saw she had sent me a text. "A coworker's running late so I'll be here an extra hour. Stay out of trouble til then, diaper boy." An emoji of a face with tongue out and winking accompanied the text. Whelp, guess I'm not getting changed for awhile... "I make no promises." I replied, adding a smirking emoji. I didn't mind some extra time to enjoy my full diaper but hoped that the longer wait wouldn't lead to a rash. I shrugged as I figured it couldn't be helped. After all, changing myself was out of the question. I decided to get the daily chores done before she got home. Normally we'd knock them out together but her day was turning out to be long. Not to mention that now she'd be changing a poopy diaper when she got home. Even though she liked taking care of me, it was still work. I quickly went about my tasks, getting them done in about half an hour. There's something about doing chores while diapered that makes the process less dull and more efficient. Since I had some extra time to kill until she got home I decided to play a video game. I grabbed the controller and loaded my save in an open world adventure game I'd been playing through. I sat down with a squish as I focused on the game, quickly becoming absorbed in its virtual world. Occasionally I would wet my diaper a bit more causing it to gradually become more swollen in the front and crotch. After finally overcoming an especially tough boss fight I checked the time. It wouldn't be long until she got here. I closed the game and turned off the TV. As I relaxed on the couch I heard the door being unlocked. "Hey!" I called out as she locked the door behind her. "Hi! What have you been up to?" She said as she got her shoes off. "Not much. Was just playing a game." I said. I knew it was just a matter of time until she discovered how badly I needed my diaper changed. "Did you finally beat that boss that kept kicking your butt?" She asked as she headed my way. Before I could answer she stopped and curiously sniffed for a second. She looked at me with a knowing smirk. "Come here." She said coyly. She beckoned me with her finger to come to her. I walked over, a conspicuous crinkling following me as I did. "Turn around." She said. Again I silently obeyed, spinning around in place so my back was to her. I crossed my arms. I knew what she was up to, of course. I felt a finger slip into the waistband of my diaper tug it away. "Yikes!" I heard from behind me as she peeked into the seat of my diaper. "What happened back here, big guy?" She let my waistband snap back into place and patted my squishy tush a couple of times. I felt my face getting warm. Even after all this time moments like these were still a thrill. "Nature called, and I answered." I said, trying to sound nonchalant. Though I'm not sure how successful I was. "It must have called through a megaphone." She gave the bulging seat a good squeeze. "When did it happen?" "Um, right after I got home." So you spent like an hour playing video games in your dirty diaper without a care in the world, eh?" I just shrugged. "Not like you were here to change me anyway. Besides, it was fun." She smiled and shook her head. "I guess boys will be boys." She took my hand and we walked to our bedroom. “I did actually get tonight’s chores done first.” “You did? Good boy! Thanks for taking care of that.” She reached up and patted me on the head before taking off her work clothes, scattered with stray fur from her job at a pet boarding facility, and discarded them in the hamper. Elated by her praise, I began prepping the bed for my change. I laid a change pad out and set a fresh diaper, wipes, barrier cream beside it. “Hold on a sec.” I heard her say from behind me. I turned to face her and she grabbed the hem of my shirt and began to pull it off of me. I raised my arms to help her remove it. With both of us in just our underwear the difference between us was stark. Her delicate, stylish bra and panties complemented her womanly, hourglass figure very well. In contrast the thick, disposable garment wrapped around my hips, heavily used as if I had no control of my bodily functions, juxtaposed my tall, muscular frame. “You can wait just a few more minutes, right?” She asked as she pulled me into an embrace, placing one arm around my lower back as the other hand groped my squishy padding. I held her in a similar fashion as we both leaned in for a kiss. Our bodies pressed up against each other as we made out, punctuated by the soft sounds of lips mingling and my diaper crinkling. After a few minutes she finally pulled back. “Thanks, I needed that. Maybe tonight we can do a bit more.” She said, winking at me as she traced a finger along my now hardened manhood within my diaper. “Yes, please.” I said dreamily. “Anyway, let’s get you cleaned up.” She gently pressed her hand against my chest, directing me to get into position. I sat back onto the pad and laid down fully as she walked around in front of me. She reached out and gave the front of my diaper a few squeezes, maintaining my erection. Another little way she liked to exert some control over me. “My gosh, you pooped and you’re this soggy?! Your parents really wasted their time trying to potty train you!” She laughed a bit as she teased me. I tried to keep cool, but that remark hit a few buttons. “I was potty trained until someone came along…” She shook her heard as she peeled back the tapes on the left side of the diaper, waiting until after the loud ripping sounds to reply. “No, you were never truly potty trained, because you’ve always wanted to live like this. This is how you’re meant to be.” Even though she was just teasing, she was absolutely right about this being what I wanted. I stared up at the ceiling while pondering her words. As I heard my right tapes being pulled away, I was truly grateful that I was with someone who not only tolerated but embraced this side of me that so few would. Suddenly, her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Hello? Ground control to diaper butt! Don’t forget I need you to do something besides lie there like a board.” She held my ankles in her hand. As it turns out, lifting a grown man’s legs up high while still having a free hand for wiping was not a solo effort. “Sorry. Go ahead.” I said, blushing. She then hoisted my ankles up with help from my thigh muscles, raising my still covered rear off the mat. With her free hand she reached between my legs and took hold of the front waistband of my diaper. She pulled it open, fully exposing me and the natural disaster I’d wrought. The smell increased a bit, but we were both pretty used to it by now. “This might take a while…” She said as she looked over the job ahead of her. “Hope your legs don’t fall asleep!” She then took the first wipe to my groin, the fresh scent of the washcloth slightly suppressing the smell of messy diaper. I gasped at the initial jolt of the cold wipe. After just a moment the feeling became refreshing after spending so long wrapped in the warm, humid environment of my diaper. The cool wipes also caused my penis to soften up again. “How was your day? Besides being long.” I asked as she began cleaning off my prince parts. “The critters were pretty easy to handle today since a few more went home recently. Oh, and Sebastian’s back! His family had a wedding out of town to go to.” She threw another used wipe into the old diaper, then grabbed a fresh one and began wiping my butt. “Sebastian…” I jogged my memory as I felt the first of many wipes being slid across my cheeks. “He’s the old grey cat, right?” I looked her in the eye when either of us were speaking, but otherwise enjoyed the lovely view of her cleavage as she went about her caregiving task. In doing so I found myself becoming aroused again. “That’s right! He’s very sweet. One of my favorite regulars.” She said, switching wipes again and giving my hard-on a playful little flick. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking about buying a table in the artists’ alley at one of the cons here in town. Do you think many people would buy from me?” “They will if they have good taste. Your art’s gotten even better this year and more people online are starting to notice. I say go for it!” I felt a cold wipe being ran through my crack. She smiled at my endorsement of the idea. “I think I will then!” Shortly after that she had gotten my hiney clean and let my legs back down. She rolled the old diaper and used wipes into a ball, taping it shut and setting it on the side of the mat. “And maybe we could put together a cute costume for you to wear.” She took the clean diaper and unfolded it. “Well, maybe…” I blushed at the idea of wearing something attention-getting in a crowded venue. We lifted my legs again and she slid the fresh diaper under my butt. With her free hand she opened the tub of barrier cream and began spreading a layer of it over my diaper area, adding another fresh fragrance into the air. Suddenly I had an idea. “How about we order out for dinner tonight? I think we could both use a night off from cooking. Your pick.” “Sounds good to me! I could go for Italian.” She finished applying the paste and lowered me onto the crinkly garment. Taking a wipe to clean her hands before pulling the front of the padding up between my legs and over my pelvis. Then she taped me up nice and snug. “All done!” She announced as she patted my clean diaper. “Thanks.” I said. She took my hand and helped me off the bed, giving me a little smooch when I was back on my feet. I started heading towards the door when I heard her voice from behind me. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” I turned just in time to catch the old, balled up diaper that she tossed at me. “Don’t forget to throw out your dirty diaper! You know, the one I just changed you out of? Since you wear diapers.” She put a little extra emphasis on the final three words. “Yeah, yeah, I knew what you meant but thanks for the clarification.” I said dryly as I dropped the squishy bundle into the pail. We then headed to the bathroom together to wash our hands, eager to spend the rest of the evening relaxing together.

Chapter 1: The Show That Changed Everything Terry had always humored Genevieve’s curiosity. So when she found a flyer for an adults-only hypnosis show and asked if they could go, he agreed with a shrug. “Sure, babe. Could be fun.” He didn’t expect what followed to flip their entire world. The theatre was dim, cozy, filled with couples and clusters of friends sipping wine. There was a buzz in the air—like everyone knew they were about to see something forbidden. The stage was set simply: one couch, one chair, and a single overhead spotlight. When the hypnotist walked out, a tall, silver-haired man with eyes like polished stone, the crowd hushed. “Tonight,” he said, his voice rich and slow, “we play with the mind. But more than that—we play with who you think you are.” Volunteers were called. At first, it was silly—people clucking, dancing, barking. But then it shifted. Terry and Genevieve watched as the hypnotist selected a tall, shy man near the back. He looked out of place—gangly, nervous, like he hadn’t meant to volunteer but got pressured by friends. The hypnotist guided him gently on stage and spoke in low tones. The man’s eyes fluttered. “Drop for me,” the hypnotist said. “That’s it. Let go.” Within moments, the tall man was kneeling. “You feel small now,” the hypnotist whispered into the mic, “so small you can’t think unless Daddy tells you what to think. You want to feel useful to Daddy. Don’t you?” The crowd murmured, caught between shock and arousal. The man nodded. “Good boy. Now crawl to your waiting Daddy. Show the room how eager you are.” From the edge of the stage, another man stepped out of the shadows—broad-shouldered, in a tailored vest, waiting patiently with a smirk. He radiated confidence, his eyes fixed on the hypnotized boy with hunger and control. As the submissive crawled to him, Daddy’s expression deepened into something almost reverent—he was watching someone surrender utterly for him, and he relished every second. “Present your mouth,” the hypnotist commanded. The boy moved between Daddy’s legs, hands settling gently on his thighs, eyes wide and adoring. He leaned forward, lips parting, and began to suck with slow, reverent eagerness. It wasn’t clumsy—it was worshipful. Daddy’s arousal was obvious—not just physical, but psychological. He exhaled slowly, his chest rising as he leaned back slightly, letting his hand rest possessively in the boy’s hair. His smile was content, yet hungry. Each motion of the boy’s lips and tongue coaxed out more than just sensation—it fed his dominance. He watched the boy with half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight: the flushed cheeks, the glistening lips, the soft gagging sounds that only made it sweeter. The pleasure wasn’t just from the act—it was from the power. The absolute control. The boy’s eagerness was intoxicating. “You see him?” the hypnotist purred to the audience. “That’s devotion. That’s a good little cocksucker giving Daddy everything he has.” The submissive moaned around him, trembling, hips subtly grinding against the floor. He was in deep—obedience and humiliation turning into raw pleasure. He never once broke contact. Daddy stroked his cheek with pride. “Look how much he needs this,” the hypnotist continued. “And look how much Daddy enjoys being worshipped.” Daddy’s other hand gripped the armrest, knuckles white, pleasure mounting as the boy increased his pace—sloppier now, more desperate. His legs tensed, hips lifting subtly into the boy’s face. His breathing deepened, each moan a confirmation of just how close he was. Then came the moment: a slow intake of breath, a growl of satisfaction, and the boy burying deep, holding himself still as if offering himself completely. Daddy’s eyes fluttered shut. He held the boy close for a moment, savoring the aftermath, fingers gently stroking through his hair. It wasn’t just release—it was fulfillment. Power and pleasure, perfectly intertwined. The boy’s body shook with his own climax, silent and overwhelmed, his cheeks still wet. He didn’t stop until Daddy exhaled and leaned back with a whisper of approval. When the hypnotist clapped his hands, the trance lifted. The boy blinked up, dazed, resting against Daddy’s leg like he’d just woken from the most vivid dream. The room erupted in applause. Terry blinked. “Holy shit,” he whispered. Genevieve didn’t answer. Her hand had drifted to Terry’s thigh, fingers squeezing slightly. That night, as they walked home, she was quiet. But her eyes sparkled. “Did that turn you on?” she finally asked. Terry hesitated. “I mean... it was intense. Hot, yeah. But more weird than anything.” Genevieve grinned. “I think I’d like to try learning it.” He laughed. “To get me to bark like a dog?” “No,” she said softly, voice husky. “To make you beg like him.” Terry didn’t sleep much that night. Neither did Genevieve. But for very different reasons. That was the night everything began. Let me know if you want more!?!?!?