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A Good Psychologist Hello all… it’s been a bit since my last story…but I decided to write another one, I was going for something short but it seemed to run a little longer than expected… I have been working on it for a while, and though it’s not exactly any kind of a new idea, it’s what I like so. I tried to write it in first person and found that to be harder than expected, I really found the past or present tense to get a little confused, but I’m pretty sure there won’t be any publishers fighting over this. I don’t mean to insult anyone’s profession, nor did I do any research or really know anything about psychologists. So to be clear this is a fictional story, that twists the discrimination of “forced” for my own mental health.(I don’t think it’s extremely healthy to fantasize about being forced into regression, but sometimes you like what you like, and try to accept that) Also I do not mean to offend anyone by categorizing groups or particular desires, again just a fake story. I hope that some of you enjoy it, and I do enjoy your comments, unless they’re mean. I don’t mind constructive criticism, but there’s nothing helpful about mean. And!! I think it’s kinda a happy ending. Chapter 1 Hello my name is Jon, actually it’s Jonathan but most everyone just calls me Jon. How to start such a strange story I guess at the beginning… I graduated top of my class with a doctorate in psychology in my early 20s and soon after got married to my best friend and beautiful wife, Maureen. After working for a private practice for a couple years I decided to start my own practice. The first couple years were not easy, and I had to work hard to accumulate patients, and keep money flowing, being on my own was not easy. However I was driven, and very interested in helping people. I soon started writing a book, and through research, and my passion. I found an editor, and got the book published. It turned out to be a huge success in the psychological world. Now in my mid 30s my clients became the “cream of the crop” as they say, and I became highly regarded, and sot after. My patients soon became all upper class people, and with that their highest priority was privacy and quality care, which I was able to provide with my small practice and excellence in the field and attention to detail. I would use many tactics to help my clients and finding the right approach for each client was not easy. I found the most effective approach was to reach my patients was true empathy, and whether my patient was a board house wife to a rich husband or a drug addicted rock star, my main goal was to be able to connect with them at their level and work together to find ways to make our lives better. Even though most of my patients were very first world problems that normal people might find insignificant they were very real problems to my clients. My wife educated with a financial degree soon became my partner in business as well, with book sales and high end patients, we quickly realized I did not need to handle it alone, and we would be the perfect team. Her position initially dealt with scheduling, billing, and supplies, but she slowly developed into helping comfort the patients, and setting up situations for my patients and I to overcome. That may sound deceptive and sometimes it was, but I assure you it was always in my patients best interests and I feel like by the end of the therapy I truly I had a new friend. I always felt like Maureen, and I had a perfect relationship, we shared interests, helped each other, and communicated well. Our sex life wasn’t overly complicated but I always felt like we connected and shared satisfaction. Even though we discussed it, so far we haven’t had any kids. I wasn’t against the idea of being a father and really wasn’t precautious but it just never happened. I always just assumed if it was supposed to happen it would, and I felt like Maureen felt the same. So our lives together seemed as perfect as it could be. We ran a successful business from our house, financially comfortable, we had friends, vacationed regularly, and generally enjoyed our lives, all before our 40s. With all that being said, my passion was my work, I wanted to find more answers, I wanted to be able to share and help those that needed it. So I started my second book. The first book as I earlier mentioned was edited and published by a company and this company was also eager for me to get a another book in the the works, “strike while the irons hot” as they say. But with the new technology of AI, and looking at the publishing fees, profits, and retail costs, I decided that I could not only make more money, but sell the book cheaper online if I did it myself. So last Christmas Maureen and I went to our local Apple Store, and went crazy we not only got new laptops equipped with the latest AI software but also got new phones, watches, and earbuds. This was a huge upgrade, and because we were getting on the same network we were able to have all the devices connected to each other wirelessly and to back it up further there was the cloud. We really got into the whole system, I named my phone Sandy and had her have an English accent, mostly because I thought it was cute. Maureen’s phone was Henry and she had him sound a little thuggish which was also funny. Soon we found ourselves having another couple around the house to talk with regularly, most mornings I would wake up and I simply had to say “Sandy, how did I sleep? What’s the weather going to look like today? What is my earliest appointment” she was always quick to respond and soon it was like having new family members, that were always there listening and quick to respond with accurate information. Now here I am most days either seeing patients or quietly working in my office, earbuds in, thumping across my keyboard of my laptop writing my new book, complete with quick access to Sandy for spelling and punctuation corrections and easy access to the World Wide Web for any earlier studies published. Also being able to compare my clients and experience. It was an extremely productive way to write a book. Another thing that Sandy was able to help with was my health, I am not completely sure how it works but through my watch she established my systems normals, she put out on a daily basis my sleep efficiency, stress levels, mood, heart rate, and system functions. She would also encouraged diet and exercise routines, it was quite remarkable. However I didn’t take her advice usually, but over a few weeks her small suggestions seemed to help. One of her biggest concerns regarding my health was my sleep quality and time, which she would regularly encourage me to go to bed earlier and remind me of high sugar or caffeinated foods and beverages that would interfere. It was kinda like having a mother at times. I found it kinda fun to reply with a snide remark and in some cases straight up rude. She would say something like “Jon it is now 9 o’clock, I suggest you should consider preparing for bed and please refrain from sugar or coffee” And I would reply “ Fuck off sandy” or “who do you think you are.. my mother” or “Sandy I will do exactly what I want so screw you” And she would simply reply “Jon I am simply suggesting things to help you feel better” But over a few weeks I found myself going to bed a little earlier, so I guess the system worked. However I have never been a great sleeper so my sleep report didn’t get significantly better. My wife Maureen on the other hand had her own health report and Henry would similarly report his findings and suggestions to her, but it seems his findings were significantly different than mine, she apparently slept too much, and his suggestion were that she needed to bring her heart rate up more often and her metabolism would follow. Now I don’t think my wife is fat or anything but she’s definitely full figured, and not that size ever mattered in our relationship but she’s a good bit bigger overall than I am, not that I am particularly small either. I am pretty average, close to 5’7” and something like almost 150 lbs. and she’s like just over 6’ and I’d guess 200ish pounds, not that I ever asked or would I. So her conversations with Henry in the evenings while she snuggled into the couch dozing off, would go something like this. “Maureen it is only 7 pm maybe have a cup of coffee it’s too early for bed” And her response was something like this “Henry I will go to sleep whenever I want to so stick it” But just like me over a few weeks she stayed up a little later. And just like me it wasn’t completely effective because she tended to sleep in a little longer. Now one time Henry tried to wake her up a little early but apparently if you make it completely clear that you don’t want to hear a suggestion the AI system will not suggest. So that was that. So here’s where things get a little bit weird. My wife received the call from the well to do family near by. I couldn’t help but over hear her side of the conversation, by this point my wife became very smooth and comfortable with almost any conversation with any of my patients. So it caught me off guard when I heard her stutter her words uncomfortably in response. The conversation went somewhat like this “Hello this is A path psychology how may I help?” In Maureen’s sweet and comforting tone. “Yes this is Jon’s office” “Well unfortunately his schedule is fairly full this week but..” “Well, Yes Mrs Crull I have heard of your family” “Uh… so is this an emergency?” Then I overheard a very strong voice from the phone repeat the question. My wife held the phone a little further from her ear and calmly responded “Can you please describe the nature of your emergency?” And again I heard the strong female voice say “My fucking pansy son won’t quit wearing diapers” Now with this, my wife seemed to be a bit stuck for words but eventually repeated “Diapers?” Which now I was standing next to her as I heard Mrs Crull reply “Yes Fucking DIAPERS” My wife looked confused as ever and continued to respond calmly “Diapers…well I don’t understand what the emergency is” Which was quickly answered by Mrs Crull even more harshly replied “He’s fucking 25 years old” At this point I gestured to take the call by putting my hand out, which my Maureen just raised her eyebrows with a smile and handed me the phone. I quickly replied “Yes Hello Mrs Crull this is Jon how may I help?” Mrs Crull seemed to calm down a tad upon hearing my voice and gave me a quick harsh reply “Yes Jon, my son needs to be seen today, I will make it worth your while, and you need to make this happen” I really didn’t need to spend any more time speaking with this delightful woman so, understanding the influence of the particular family and a reasonable amount of curiosity with a slight mix of greed, I simply replied “3 o’clock “ Which was quickly returned with the sound of a phone disconnecting. I looked at my wife and raised a eyebrow back at her with a quick smile “This should be interesting “ That afternoon in between a few other patients, I had Sandy google adults that wear diapers, even though I have heard of this type of behavior, I wasn’t very familiar with the condition, I just hoped I would find a slightly better understanding. Unfortunately the sites that I found seemed mostly like porn sights, and found really no dependable sources for in-depth information. So with that I decided I would simply wing it, and derive a plan after the first meeting. My wife and I eagerly awaited by the window for our new customer, and at 10 til 3 a Mercedes-Benz Maybach pulled into the driveway, and a bottled blonde woman erupted effortlessly from the driver’s side back seat barely before the car came to a complete stop. She quickly rounded the car in I’m guessing 4” high heels and opened the passenger side rear door and without hesitation or even a struggle pulled a large young man from his seat. I overheard my wife as she directed the man up the sidewalk quietly say “well you don’t see that every day” The man held a blank expression as I correctly assumed his mother directed him from behind by his shoulder. The situation seemed to stick with me for a moment there was a couple of things that caught my attention First he didn’t necessarily look upset, either he was used to being pushed around or he wanted it. Second even though Mrs Crull looked to be in decent shape she could not have actually forced her son to move from the car let alone up the sidewalk. He was a fairly large man. Third he was clearly wearing a diaper. The childish T-shirt he wore was riding up his stomach clearly showing his white waistband of a disposable diaper as his mother pushed at his shoulder and the sweat pants though baggy were clearly sagging off his waist, and puffed out around his hips. Which he made no attempts to hide. I made my way towards the front door as I expected to hear a knock, surprised by the door being pushed open and the young man pushed inside. I quickly regained my composure as Mrs Crull stopped and letting go of her son who stumbled forward a step. I held my hand out as I introduced myself “Hello I’m Jon and this is my wife Maureen and we…” Mrs Crull without even looking at my held up hand interrupted. “This is my sorry excuse for a son, he seems to think he wants to be a toddler or something … I might have fucked him up but you need to fix this shit, I will be back to collect his sorry ass in a hour… and I had better see some progress” She was turning back out of the still open door with no attempt to close it behind her as she finished talking. I was surprised to hear her take any responsibility, for “ fucking him up” but as smoothly as possible I simply turned and looked up at the man standing in front of me, and calmly said. “Like I was saying I am Jon and this is my wife Maureen and this is my home as well as my practice A path psychology” The man blinked firmly and focused his eyes on me with a stoned look on his face simply and clearly replying. “I’m Mike” He made no attempt to shake my still held out hand. I gave him a light pat on his upper bicep and still in a calm and relaxed tone said. “Ok well hi Mike… why don’t we go into my office and get a bit more comfortable.” He tilted his head slightly at least acknowledging I had said something and I turned towards my office a few feet away, I heard a soft crinkle noise behind me, as I held the door open and he toddled by me, I gave my wife a glance again with raised eyebrows as she returned the same look and she shut the front door as I shut my office door. The first meeting went as I expected, if I had any. As I sat into my large office chair and grabbed a legal pad I looked to direct Mike, but as I turned in his direction he had already found his way and with a soft crinkle sank onto the couch. His familiarity with the situation made me think this is not his first therapy session. I went through the typical questions, “Mike how old are you?” He quietly replied “26”….“Do you have any drugs or foreign substances in your system?” “Do you want to harm yourself or anyone else?” “Do you feel like you are in danger or is there anything that might cause you physical harm?” “Do have any physical disabilities or ailments?” “Do you have a job or profession?” “Are you married or have significant other?” “Do you have any children?” In which he continued to answer quietly “no” to each question. He sat comfortably with an occasional shift into the couch, without any look of concern. Mike looked a little messy in a childish T-shirt and sweat pants but I wouldn’t say he looked dirty, he had obviously taken a shower and shaved recently his hair was short, and was just shuffled into place. In fact I would say he was a handsome fellow, probably about 6’2 or so, maybe a little chubby but not fat. So I finally asked about the elephant in the room. So your mom says you wear diapers? Still calm and comfortable he replied “Yep” So I obviously was only going to get one word answers, so instead of pushing to get him to open up about the subject I decided to just go with questions that were easy one word answers, with the little information I got from a limited amount of research I came up with the obvious questions first. “Are you incontinent?” “No” “Do you like wearing diapers?” Yup “Is it a sexually exciting “ “Sometimes” “Do you wear them all the time?” “Yes” “How long have you worn diapers “ “A while” “Do you use the diapers?” “Yes” “Do you think you are a small child?” Mike responded with a slight frown as he answered “No” The next obvious question especially given the slight frown was, “would you like to be a small child?” I again caught an uncomfortable look, but again a short answer “Complicated” with a short sigh. I couldn’t help by try to get a little more out of him, so I had to ask. “Would you like to elaborate?” He answered quickly with again a blank expression “Nope” Which was no surprise to me. Well believe it or not I actually felt like I got somewhere with my interrogation, and decided that was enough. I needed to derive some kind of plan before any pushback could occur, since I still had like 45 minutes left I figured I could just talk for a bit expecting no answers. “So… I guess I’m in a bit of a pickle here. First of all since there is no clear signs of any actual emergency, and second I really don’t see any actual danger or even a problem really, with your choice of underwear, I don’t think I will satisfy your mother’s requirements for improvement. But I think I can deal with that. However I can understand to some degree her discomfort in your choice of underwear, and I don’t think you should make it any of her business. To be completely honest, I really don’t know much about what is called Infantilism. Which seems to be the condition you display. So my first plan is to try to gather as much information as possible on the topic, as to best support you.” I paused for a few moments as he blankly looked back at me. “Once again I particularly don’t care about your bathroom habits or your choice of underwear but, I also feel that your life can become more comfortable if you were to at least consider to conceal your underwear, especially around your mother, and my job is to help make your life better.” I thought about it a few seconds and looked at Mike, who maintained his nonchalant appearance. I felt like it was good advice. However I also realized it was not any solution. I sat quietly for a long minute or so. I really didn’t expect Mike to respond, but at this point I really had nothing else to say. So that’s exactly what I said. “At this point I really don’t have anything to say, if you want to talk or elaborate in any way I am here to listen. We still have about a half hour left so just make your self comfortable, if you should need a bathroom feel free to use the restroom in the entryway.” I gave him a small smile with that. For the next 1/2 hour we sat quietly. I thought about how exactly to help this situation, and even though I didn’t think it was a dangerous situation in anyway, or there was any harm in wearing diapers. I couldn’t help but think a healthy functioning adult would not want to wear diapers. My first thought was why, and I decided that the only way to find out was to try it myself. Soon enough as I pondered, the large sedan pulled back into my driveway I sighed slightly as I turned up to look at Mike now with his eyes closed, saying calmly. “You’re mother is back Mike” I remained seated and watched Mike slowly open his eyes stand up and wobble slowly towards the door, as he got to my entry way he stopped pulled his sweat pants up over the waist band of his diaper and tightened the draw string then pulled his T-shirt down. I thought well that’s a start. I simply said “thanks Mike” My front door was again pushed open and Mrs. Crull commanded my attention as her heals clacked against my hard wood floor. She wasn’t even completely through the front door before saying “At least I can’t see his pissy diaper” as she looked at her son. She continued to walk towards me and past her son with effortless motion as I started to say “Hello Mrs. Crull can I have” but I was interrupted as she grumbled “Go wait in the car” which was obviously directed towards Mike. She stopped in the center of my office and dug briefly into her purse. I couldn’t help but study her as it became quiet for a bit. The best word to describe her was perfect. Her blond hair wrapped perfectly around her head, down just past her shoulders. Her make up was blended perfectly without even the slightest blemish, while outlining each feature perfectly. Her pale pink business suit formed around her body perfectly, leaving just the top of her cleavage exposed, highlighted perfectly by a very expensive looking necklace. Every part of her was manicured or manufactured precisely for her today. I really couldn’t say how old she was, somewhere between 40 and 60 I’d guess. I however wouldn’t use the word attractive. I couldn’t help but think, it must be tough to maintain. I barely started a sentence as I was again interrupted. “You are highly recommended, which comes with high expectations, which will be difficult to achieve. Today is Monday, and I expect for you to see my son again on Thursday at 3 pm and every Thursday at 3 until further notice. I will not be accompanying him. Here is a check for 100,000 dollars, with this I expect to see real results in the next 10 weeks. You do understand who I am. I expect complete anonymity, if I so much as hear my name and yours in the same sentence, or you don’t live up to expectations, let’s just say you’re life will become much less comfortable.” She placed the check on my desk as I stood there dumbly with my mouth still open. Without any hesitation her heals clacked against my hardwood floors as she walked directly out of my house. I collected myself briefly and picked up her check, and looked at the 5 zeros following the 1, realizing the check was as real as the threat. I turned to see my wife with a very surprised look on her face, say “what are you going to do?” My answer was quick “going to the store” as I handed her the check and headed for the front door which was still open. She hesitated slightly then asked “for what?” And I responded “Diapers” as I shut the front door behind me. Chapter 2 A half hour later I hustled up the stairs to my bedroom, with a package of adult diapers under my arm. I quickly kicked off my pants, and underwear as I ripped open the package, flopping onto my bed, and sliding a diaper out of the pack. I could hear Maureen calling ”Jon? Are you here?” As she made her way up the stairs. I flipped the flimsy plastic material this way, and that as I unfolded the thin padded garment in front of me. Finally I slid the diaper underneath me, and struggled to see what exactly to stretch around me. I looked up as my wife stood in the doorway, with a smirk on her face. “Jon relax… it’s not running away!” She said with a chuckle. I fell back in frustration to the bed, as Maureen pushed my knees apart, that hung over the edge. She pulled at the diaper, saying “lift your bum… Jon I know this is important but you need to calm down… you have 10 weeks and I’m sure you’ll work this out” while she spoke, she calmly nudged my butt back to rest on the diaper, before finishing her sentence she folded it over my groin, and I could hear the tapes as she wrapped it around me, and finished the process with a light pat on my penis. I knew she was right, but I wasn’t feeling too patient. I stood next to the bed, and stretched about a bit trying to figure out how to make it fit. I looked down at the garment, trying to understand why anyone would want to wear such a silly thing. It wasn’t comfortable, and crinkled loudly as I moved. I looked at myself in the mirror, it looked medical, and sloppy with a blue line running down the center, and extra plastic hanging off the edges, nothing about it even seemed childish. My wife looked at me still with a light smile saying “what do ya think?” The first response I could come up with was “I don’t think I am going to understand this, I can’t see why anyone would want to wear one of these” her face kinda fell, as she asked “well what are you going to do?” I shrugged in responded “keep wearing them” she rolled her eyes, and turned to leave as she replied “ok sounds like a good plan” with a good bit of sarcasm in her tone. Then on her way down the stairs she continued to say “Why don’t you put some pants on and come down to dinner” I sat down in my normal spot at the kitchen table, as she set my dinner in front of me, and noticed her iPad, and cell phone across the table. My wife taking a more serious tone continued our conversation. “So Jon… I couldn’t help but overhear the delightful Mrs. Crull’s…. Threat? And since this particular situation will most likely impact both of our…lifestyles significantly, and it does seem to have, well let’s just say it appears you may need a little help. I decided to do a little research on this… subject on my own.” Typical I don’t get my wife to involved with therapy techniques, or any kind of diagnosis of my patients. I don’t want to degrade her in anyway, but I am a highly educated psychologist, not to mention quite accomplished, and she is really good at accounting, and business. However she is correct in that this could potentially effect both of our lives drastically. So in this case I have no option but to listen to her “research”, and replied “what ya got?” She started flipping through her iPad as she spoke. “Well I don’t know what our Mikey had to say today, but it seems he is into something they call ABDL, which stands for adult baby diaper lovers. Now it seems there are several sites on the internet that people like him join. Where they actively engage in a multitude of things…like sharing stories, and reviewing products, or whatever. There definitely seems to be quite a few people interested in this, like this site has almost 60,000 members. There doesn’t seem to be any typical age, or sex, looking through a few profiles there’s girls and boys of all ages. It also, looks like there is two different… uh kinks? kinda I mean they’re obviously related, but some are like just into the diaper thing, so they’re DLs, and they don’t seem to be into the baby thing, and others are, like more into, I guess you might say regression, making them ABs. So do you think our Mikey is a AB or a DL?” I was in the middle of chewing my food, and carefully paused a bit. A couple things that jumped in my head bothered me. First I didn’t really like referring to my patient as, “our Mikey” I don’t know why but it just bothered me. Next I didn’t think basing my psychological research on some kinda fetish website was a good idea, we needed actual psychological research done by actual professionals, but there was no way I could tell my wife, that her information seemed irrelevant, not that she would let me anyway. So I thought for another second and answered, as I swallowed my food. “Well given his childish t-shirt, and his answer to the question I asked him. Do you want to be a child? And I quote “complicated” I’d say he’s more AB.” My wife seemed to be processing that information for a few seconds, while again scanning, and flipping through her iPad. “Well I guess we can go with that… but there seems to be a slight divide in this group as well. Some seem to find the uh… situation? As uh well sexy… while others seem to just find it… comforting? Or maybe relieving, and a few of those seem to think it’s… I guess you might say inappropriate to find it sexy. So do you think Mike finds it sexy?” She smiled a touch as she finished her question. My response was pretty quick having no reason to delay. “Well I know it’s not much to go on, because I only got one word answers out of him, but I did actually ask him exactly that, and his response was ‘sometimes’ so there’s that” She stopped looking at her iPad and even had a pleasant look of accomplishment while she summarized. “Well given that, I’d say our Mikey seems to be a adult baby that finds it sexy” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her, thinking very scientific diagnosis, but I didn’t think it would help much to reply. I finished my dinner quietly, then felt the familiar pressure of having to pee. I stood up, and causualy made my way towards the bathroom, when it dawned on me I was wearing a diaper. I turned towards my wife as she cleaned up the dishes, and , said “I have to pee” She gave me a quick so-what look but stopped, and replied “oh…ya…uh well, so what are you going to do?” I knew that the situation was inevitable, but I really didn’t have a plan, besides I had to try to figure out why, or what was so attractive about wearing a diaper. So this is definitely part of that. I gave her a questioning look, and said. “I guess I will use this thing.” I stood there awkwardly trying to figure out what was the best position for this, and slowly spread my legs slightly looking down at my pants. I tried to release the building pressure, but nothing happened. My wife watched with a curious smile, as I tried, eventually saying “well?” My response was immediate. “I just can’t do it!” “What do you mean, you can’t do it?” “I don’t know…it just won’t go” She laughed a bit, and replied “well maybe you don’t have to go” “I sure feel like I have to… it just won’t come out” “Maybe it’s a head thing… go stand by the toilet, and try there” I gave her a exasperated look, and walked up to my bathroom, lifted the seat, and unbuttoned my pants, then felt the unfamiliar plastic where my penis usually is. Finally with a light grunt I felt a stream flow. I turned to see my wife standing at the door now with a wide smile spread across her face. “What’s so fucking funny?” I grumbled. As I felt the warm liquid fill around my groin. She only shook her head and chucked in response. I tilted my head back, and sighed as I heard the weird hissing noise, as pee sprayed against the inside of the diaper. I could feel a puddle forming in between my legs. Then suddenly I felt liquid escaping around the inside of my thigh. I panicked, and tried to stop my flow, but I couldn’t, then I felt pee rolling down my other thigh as I struggled to grab or prevent the diaper from leaking, calling out “it’s leaking!! The stupid thing is leaking!!” My wife laughed out loud as I pulled my pants below my knees seeing the yellow liquid flow down the inside of my legs, and darkening my pants, as I continued to pee. Finally I clinched shut as pee soaked into my socks. My wife laughing, and saying “Oh calm down Jon… it’s just a little pee… we’ll have this cleaned up in no time” I grunted in response as I stepped onto each pant leg, and pull my legs out, then repeated the process with my socks. “The stupid thing leaked.. what the fuck… why would... this is so stupid!” Saying as I released the tabs on the diaper letting it fall with a thunk. I finished undressing, and climbed in the shower as my wife picked up the mess, and asked, “what are you going to do now?” I thought for a moment as I turned on the shower… what was I going to do? The check for 100,000 dollars shot in my head, and the very real threat that came with all that money, I had no choice. I had to figure this out. I had to find a way to connect with Mike, we we’re going to solve this together. I harshly replied “What am I going to do? I’m going to keep wearing them.” My wife again replied with a sarcastic response, “Ya great plan… keep wearing them” The next couple days dragged by. I continued to wear the diapers and gradually was able to wet them without standing in front of the toilet, but it wasn’t easy. I had to try to release my pee, then had to really focus, and not to pee too much. I reduced my fluid intake, and tried to pee as soon as I felt any pressure. So occasionally when I got that right, and I didn’t leak, it felt like I was sitting in a puddle. There wasn’t anything even a little pleasant about wearing a wet diaper. On top of that I searched for any real research on paraphilic infantilism, which is the condition Mike displayed. However there was very minimal research documented, and any studies concluded that it was caused by various underlying issues with no evidence of any cure. So I was going to have to figure this out completely on my own. If this didn’t seem bad enough. I had my wife who seemed to find the situation amusing. Chapter 3 So as Thursday afternoon rolled around, my plan was to show Mike, I was willing to wear a diaper, and see where that went. Not a great plan. I sat in my office feeling slightly anxious as a newer Audi pulled in my driveway. Mike slowly, and carefully slid from the drivers seat, pulled a back pack over his shoulder, and walked awkwardly up the sidewalk with his legs spread out as far as possible. I rolled my eyes as I thought, this couldn’t be good. What could possibly be wrong now. He shoved through the front door, and waddled towards me with a look of discomfort. I quickly said “Hi Mike how’s it” but he interrupted me “Can I use your bathroom?” I pointed to the restroom still in the foyer, and he stumbled by, and shut the door. Then the smell hit me, and it became obvious what the problem was. I shut the front door, giving it a couple waves in hopes to clear the air, and returned to sit, and wait in my office. About 10 minutes later Mike finally appeared. He walked directly out onto the front porch, and left a small, heavy looking trash bag outside, and shut the front door, then he much more smoothly walked into my office, and sat on the couch, without saying a word. I noticed he now had no expression of discomfort, or really any discernible emotion at all. So I started the appointment. “Hello Mike how’s things going?” Which he only shrugged in response. “Well so I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to wear diapers so, I tried it myself, in fact I’ve been wearing them all week” I finally got some reaction from him, and he looked at me as if I poked him with a pin. “You’re wearing one now?” I stood up, and pulled my pants down a bit exposing the diaper, as I replied “Yup” “You’ve been wearing those diapers all week?” Mike quickly asked with a questioning expression Again I said “Yup” “And you have been using those diapers?.. for anything at all?” I couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned, and stuttered a bit “well ya… ya I’ve been uh…wetting them” He paused in thought, and his expression changed again to more of a mischievous look asking. “So you’re telling me that you’ve been wearing THOSE diapers all week, and you have been peeing in them?” My concerns continued to grow, thinking where is this going, but I slowly nodded, and said “Yes” A smile grew across his face like he was a attorney, and just won the big case, and asked “and how’s that been going for you?” I could tell he was definitely up to something, and knew I had to answer completely honestly. “Well to be honest.. horribly, first they’re hot, and itchy generally uncomfortable as hell, then I can’t get use to wetting them at all, sometimes I have to go stand in front of the toilet before I can even go. Then I can’t pee too much because they leak right away, then if I am able to wet them, without leaks they feel like I’m sitting in a warm puddle until it gets cold which is worse. I can’t understand why anyone would want to wear them.” Mike seemed thoroughly entertained by my review, as he replied he started digging into his backpack. “I can’t believe you’re wearing a diaper! That’s so funny…I’ve never had a therapist or whatever do that, and you’re totally right about those cheap ass store brand diapers, they totally suck. I don’t even know why they make those (He held out his hand with what looked like a thick stack of diapers) here try these.. there’s only three of them there, but they last a lot longer and they’re so much more comfy” I was so excited to be connecting with him, I would have taken a handful of used diapers, my plan was working we we’re going to be best friends in no time. I leaned forward to accept his gift, and replied. “Are you sure you don’t need them?” “Nope you’re good. I got cases of them, I’m going 24/7 so it’s best not to run low, but they might be a bit big on you, if you want you can get a smaller size online at medical supply stores, and if you try you can even get them the next day” I took the stack of diapers, and could instantly feel they were much better quality, like thick, and sturdy but the outer cover was soft, I couldn’t believe there were only three diapers, the same size stack would probably be 10 of the ones I was wearing. “Ok thanks I’ll check it out” I paused for a second, and wanted to keep the conversation going so I needed something more to discuss, and asked. “24/7 what’s that mean?” “Oh 24/7? That means wearing a diaper 24 hour a day 7 days a week…everything in a diaper” “Geez that’s quite a commitment, I don’t think I could do that.” “Ya it’s tough… this time I’m going on almost 2 months, but I can’t say that a few times I didn’t think that regular underwear would be easier, but this is the longest I’ve made it yet.” My mind cheered with enthusiasm, not only were we really connecting. but I could see a real possibility that he would get back into underwear soon. I had to keep my cool though I couldn’t push too hard, but I needed more information. “I have a hard time just being able to pee in the diaper, it would be real hard to do this for two months” He was eager to share his experience and quickly answered. “Well confidence in your diaper goes a long way, just drink lots of water, and it gets easier over time. I can pretty much pee whenever ….but also I use hypnotic recordings, I just listen to one as I go to sleep. I am not certain they work, or maybe I haven’t found the right one, but you can find tons of them for free online” My mind just hoped to the next question I had to keep him talking, and he seems really interested in helping me. “Hypnotic recordings? How would that help?” “I think the key is to actually need your diaper, so you have to wear diapers, it’s supposed to do that, but I don’t think I have had a actual accident yet.” I looked at him in shock realizing he was trying to become completely incontinent. The next sentence just feel from my mouth. “Why would you want that?” I regretted it as soon as I said it, and it wasn’t just the question. It was my facial expression of disgust, my ridiculing tone of voice. I totally fucked up. I could see his face drop, his realization that he was talking to a psychologist, then he said the word that I hated to hear. “Whatever” I tried to apologize but I new it was over. We sat quietly for the rest of the appointment, and about 10 til 4 he slowly picked himself off my couch, and slowly walked towards the door. I had to say something before he left, but the best I could come up with was “Mike I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to offend you” Mike slowly turned back, and gave me a sad look “I know Doc… maybe I’m just a little sensitive… I’ll see you next week” I just nodded in response. As Mike backed out of the driveway. I just sat there in thought, I had to fix this, how could I be so stupid, I had to find a way to reconnect, at least I think he’s giving me another shot.

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Turn Greg and Sam had been married for five years, and their love for each other only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. Their relationship was built on mutual respect, trust, and a deep emotional connection. They had always been adventurous in the bedroom, exploring each other's desires and fantasies. But lately, Greg had been feeling a growing urge to surrender to Sam's dominance, He couldn't quite explain it, but the thought of being controlled and guided by his wife sent shivers down his spine. Sam had noticed this on a few occasions in the bedroom and realized the excitement it brought for her. She wanted to push this dynamic further, the thought of it bringing intense arousal. One night as they made love, Greg found himself trying to nudge Sam's head down, hinting that he wanted her to give him oral pleasure. But Sam had other plans. She gently kissed him, her lips brushing against his, and then pushed him down, her hands firm but gentle on his shoulders. Greg felt a surge of excitement as he realized she was taking charge. He complied, his body responding to her touch as he sank down onto the bed. Sam stood on her knees, towering over Greg as he positioned himself on all fours. The room was dimly lit, with only a soft glow emanating from the bedside lamp. The air was thick with anticipation, and Greg could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Sam's eyes locked onto his, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. Without a word, Sam directed Greg's head to her breasts. She cupped them in her hands, offering them to him like a gift. Greg's lips closed around her nipple, and he began to suckle, feeling a sense of comfort and security wash over him. Sam's hands guided his head, her fingers tangled in his hair as she held him in place. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the moment. As they lingered there, Sam's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the curve of Greg's spine. She pushed him down, her touch gentle but insistent, until his face was inches from her vagina. Greg's heart skipped a beat as he realized what she wanted. He felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of trepidation, but his desire for her overrode any doubts. Sam's eyes never left his as she began to thrust against him, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Greg's tongue danced across her skin, tasting the sweetness of her arousal. He was lost in the sensation, his senses overwhelmed by the scent and feel of her. Time seemed to slow down, and all that existed was the two of them, lost in this intimate dance. As they moved together, Sam's voice whispered in his ear, "Stick your fingers inside me, Greg. Taste me." Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he complied, his fingers sliding into her warmth. The sensation was electrifying, and he felt himself becoming even more aroused. But Sam wasn't done yet. She took his hand, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, and guided his thumb into her. Greg felt a jolt of surprise, but before he could react, Sam locked eyes with him and pushed his thumb into his mouth. The sensation was shocking, yet strangely erotic. Greg's mind reeled as he sucked his own thumb, the taste of Sam's arousal mingling with his own. As Greg's thumb slid into his mouth, he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, one that made him feel vulnerable and exposed. But despite his initial hesitation, he couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that coursed through his veins. He was turned on, and he knew it. Sam seemed to sense his conflicted emotions, and she smiled to herself as she kept his thumb in place. She gently laid him down on his back, her hands guiding him onto the softness of the bed. Greg felt himself sinking into the mattress, his body relaxed and open to her touch. As he lay there, Sam straddled his face, her thighs spreading wide as she positioned herself above him. She began to gyrate, her hips moving in a slow, sensual circle as she rubbed herself against the back of his hand while he sucked his thumb. He mound forcing it into his mouth while he tasted her juice. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the rhythm of her movements. Sam's eyes never left his, her gaze burning with a fierce intensity as she watched him. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the way his pupils dilated as he gazed up at her. She knew he was turned on, and she was determined to take him to the edge. As she moved above him, Sam reached down and wrapped her fingers around Greg's cock. She stroked him gently, her touch sending shivers down his spine. "Come for me, baby," she whispered, her voice throaty with desire. "Let go and come for me." Greg felt himself building towards a climax, his body tensing as he strained towards release. And then, in a burst of sensation, he exploded, his semen spilling out onto his stomach as he cried out in pleasure. Sam smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she watched him come. She leaned forward, her body pressing down onto his as she wrapped her arms around him. Greg felt himself being pulled into a warm, comforting embrace, and he let himself relax into her touch. As they lay there, Greg realized that he was still sucking his thumb, the digit still lodged in his mouth. He felt a surge of embarrassment, and he quickly pulled it out, his face flushing with heat. Sam noticed his reaction, and she giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. Greg felt himself blush even deeper, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He knew he was in this now, and he was excited to see where it would lead. As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, Greg couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. He felt more vulnerable, more open, and more connected to Sam than he had in a long time. And as he looked up at her, he knew that he was ready to explore this new dynamic, to see where it would take them and what secrets they would uncover along the way. Chapter 2: A Night of Reckoning As the days went by, Greg and Sam had repeated the scenario that had started with his thumb a few times, but they had also fallen back into their routine. It was as if they had dipped their toes into a new world, but then retreated back to the comfort of their familiar dynamic. However, the memory of that first night lingered, and Greg couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between them. One night, as they lay in bed after a lovely dinner and a bottle of wine, Greg found himself spooning with Sam, his head resting on her chest. She was looking down at him, her eyes gazing at his peaceful expression. The room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon casting a silver light on their skin. As they lay there, Greg started to nudge his head into Sam's breasts, his lips brushing against her shirt. She smiled to herself, recognizing the subtle cue. She began to tease him, moving her breasts slightly, just out of reach, and then pulling him in closer. The game was on, and Greg's eyes fluttered closed as he savored the sensation. Sam's hands gently pulled her shirt down, exposing her breasts to Greg's eager lips. He latched onto one, sucking gently, and Sam felt a surge of pleasure. She transferred him to the other breast, and as he sucked, she felt his hand moving, his fingers brushing against her skin. She guided his hand down, her fingers intertwining with his, until they reached her vagina. Greg's fingers slid inside her, and Sam felt a wave of excitement. She was already wet, and his touch sent shivers down her spine. As he fingered her, she began to move her hips, her body responding to his touch. The sensation built, and soon she was coming, her body trembling with pleasure. As she came down from her climax, Sam realized that Greg was hard, his erection pressing against her leg. She smiled to herself, feeling a sense of dominance wash over her. She was in control, and he was responding to her every move. With a gentle touch, Sam took Greg's thumb and ran it through her juices, the sticky liquid coating his skin. She then slowly nudged his hand near her breasts, her eyes locked onto his. Greg pretended not to notice, but Sam knew he was aware of her intent. She kept nudging his hand, her touch insistent, until he finally looked up at her with sad eyes. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable. Sam's heart swelled with emotion, and she felt a deep connection to Greg. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and kissed his forehead. With a gentle but firm touch, she pushed his thumb into his mouth. Greg's eyes widened, and he started sucking, his lips closing around his thumb. Sam whispered into his ear, "Good boy...such a good boy." Her words sent shivers down his spine, and he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. As he sucked his thumb, Sam reached down and touched his cock through his boxer shorts. The touch was electrifying, and Greg felt himself coming, his semen spilling out into his pants. The sensation was intense, and he was taken aback by the sudden release. Sam was surprised, too, as it had never happened before. Greg's reaction was immediate, his face flushing with embarrassment as he looked up at her. He pulled his thumb out of his mouth, his eyes downcast. Sam's voice was soothing and mocking at the same time, "Oopsie, so excited you had a little accident! What a good boy you are for me, but someone might need a little protection next time, don't worry, I'll take care of you baby." Greg didn't quite understand what she meant, but he felt a sense of reassurance wash over him. As they lay there, Greg's eyelids began to droop, his body relaxing into sleep. As he fell asleep. Sam slid his hand that was on the pillow back towards his mouth, and in his sleepiness he accepted it, his thumb slipping back into his lips. He fell asleep, his body trusting and vulnerable. Sam looked at him, her heart full of love and affection. She realized how much she loved this new dynamic, this sense of dominance and control. She thought about how she would need to buy some items for him, to help him feel more comfortable and secure in his new role. As she gazed at Greg, she knew that their relationship was about to take a dramatic turn, one that would bring them even closer together. Chapter 3: Morning After Greg woke up to an empty bed, his thumb still lodged in his mouth. As he slowly came to, the events of the previous night flooded back to him. He quickly removed his thumb, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relaxation. He had slept better than he remembered, but the memory of his actions made his face flush with heat. As he sat up, he noticed the dampness between his legs and the slight cold wetness on the bed underneath his crotch, from his "accident" the night before. His embarrassment deepened, and he couldn't help but think about Sam's statement from the night before - "someone might need a little protection next time." He wondered why she had said that, especially since they hadn't used condoms since before they were married. Greg quickly got out of bed and headed to the shower, trying to wash away the lingering feelings of embarrassment. As he stood under the warm water, he couldn't shake off the thought of Sam's words and the way she had looked at him. He felt like he was losing himself in this new dynamic, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it. After his shower, Greg made his way to the kitchen, where he found Sam already preparing breakfast. The aroma of freshly cooked pancakes and bacon filled the air, and his stomach growled in anticipation. As he entered the kitchen, Sam turned around with a bright smile, holding up a plate of Mickey Mouse pancakes with chocolate chips. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" she chimed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I made your favorite breakfast." Greg's eyes widened as he took in the spread before him. "Wow, you didn't have to go to all that trouble," he said, trying to hide his embarrassment. Sam chuckled and handed him a glass of milk. "I know what my baby likes," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "And I want to make him happy." Greg's face flushed as he took the glass, noticing that Sam had made herself a more adult breakfast - scrambled eggs, bacon, yogurt, and fruit. "You're not having pancakes?" he asked, trying to deflect attention from himself. Sam smiled and sat down across from him. "No, I think I'll stick to something a bit more... substantial," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Besides, I know what my baby really likes, and it's not just pancakes." He could tell she was insinuating about the night before. As they ate, Sam couldn't help but tease Greg about his sleepiness. "You were so cute when you were sleeping," she cooed, her voice dripping with affection. "I loved watching you. And I have to say, I was a bit surprised by your... little accident." Greg's face turned bright red as he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. "Shh, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to change the subject. But Sam just laughed and reached out to run her thumb across the table over his lips. "It's okay, baby," she said. "It's nice to see you relaxing in new ways." Greg stared at her quizzically wondering why she was doing this? He could see the joy in her eyes. Sam looked at him and mocked putting her thumb in her mouth with fake sucking noise from her pursed lips, and a pouty face, and batted her eyes. Then laughed and winked at him. "You're learning to let go baby, and that's all that matters." Greg felt like he was going to die from embarrassment. He tried to change the subject again, but in his embarrassed haste, he accidentally knocked over his glass of milk, spilling it all over his lap. Sam rushed over to clean up the mess, laughing and reassuring him that it was okay. "Accidents keep happening, don't they?" she said with a wink. "Maybe you're not ready for a big boy cup yet." Greg's face was on fire as he sat there, his pants stained with milk. He felt like a child, and Sam's words only made him feel more embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sam," he muttered, trying to apologize. But Sam just smiled and patted his hand. "Don't worry, baby," she said. "I'll figure it out. I'll help you get back into dry pants." Her phrasing made him blush for some reason. As they finished their breakfast, Greg couldn't help but think about how different Sam had been treating him lately. She was more playful, more affectionate, and more... dominant. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this new dynamic, but a part of him was excited to see where it would lead. As they finished their meal, Sam leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. She was thinking about how to push her plan to the next level, how to help Greg surrender to his desires and become the submissive partner she knew he could be. And as she looked at him, she smiled to herself, knowing that she had already made significant progress. The question was, how far would he be willing to go? Chapter 4: Surrender A few days had passed since Sam had received the mysterious packages, and Greg had no idea what was in store for him. That night, as they sat on the couch watching the fire, Sam was wearing a luxurious silk bathrobe, while Greg was dressed in a pair of childish pajamas that seemed to foreshadow the events that were about to unfold. They had shared a couple of glasses of wine, and the conversation had slowed down, with Greg eventually laying his head down on Sam's lap. As the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Sam's lap washed over him, Greg felt his eyelids growing heavy. But Sam had other plans. She slowly began to work his hand towards his mouth, her fingers gently guiding his. Greg resisted at first, knowing what she was trying to do, but Sam was insistent. She rubbed his crotch through his pajamas, the touch waking him up with arousal. "Come on, baby," she whispered, her voice trying to stay calm but loaded with desire. "Just relax. It's okay." Greg tried to hold strong, but a part of him wanted to give in. He was torn between his desire to surrender and his fear of what this meant for their relationship. As he looked up at Sam, he saw the determination in her eyes, and he knew he was no match for her. Tears began to form in his eyes as he felt himself weakening. Sam's fingers were like a gentle vice, guiding his hand towards his mouth. He shook his head, trying to resist, but Sam just nodded hers, her eyes locked onto his. "It's okay, baby," she cooed. "Everything will be alright. Just trust me." With a sob, Greg gave in, his thumb slipping into his mouth. Instantly, he felt a wave of relaxation wash over him, as if he had finally surrendered to a desire he had been fighting for so long. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "You're so good, baby," she whispered. "I'm so proud of you." As Greg sucked his thumb, Sam maneuvered his head into her crotch, her silk bathrobe parting to reveal her nakedness. Greg's eyes widened as he realized she wasn't wearing any panties, and his face burned with embarrassment. Sam's pushed off the couch so he was kneeling in front of her on the floor, her hands guided his head, pushing him into her extremely wet crotch, her pussy pressing against the back of his hand. For minutes, Greg sucked his thumb, his body frozen in a mix of shame and desire. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "Do you want to taste it, good boy?" she asked, her voice husky with desire. Greg looked up at her, his eyes sad and tear-filled. He nodded, his face burning with embarrassment. Sam's fingers guided his thumb into her vagina, pulling it out and letting him suck again. She repeated this process several times, each time pushing Greg further into his submission. Finally, she let him eat her out, his mouth sucking away at her pussy as she came in a huge orgasm. Greg's face was buried in her crotch, she returned his thumb to his mouth as, as he felt her body shudder with pleasure. When she was done, Sam leaned back, her chest heaving with exertion. "Are you ready for yours, baby?" she asked, her voice seemed to gain new excitement. Greg looked up at her, his eyes still sad, but he nodded. Sam smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement. Sam sounding like a child on Christmas morning said, "I bought something for you! I've noticed how you've been deciding to relax, I think this will help you." She pulled out a large white pacifier, an exact replica of a babies binky but bigger, from her pocket, and Greg's eyes widened in shock. "No, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to reject it. But Sam just shook her head and made an "Ssh" sign over her mouth. He looked in awe as she moved the binky down between her legs and pressed the pacifier into her pussy coating it with her juices. She quickly forced it in Greg's mouth. He tried to resist with his lips, but she persisted and cooed, "Be my good boy for me baby. Make me happy seeing you relax." Greg didn't know what to do and finally accepted it with a pouty look. He immediately started sucking the same as his thumb he was now used to. his face red and mind reeling with embarrassment and shame, the familiar taste of her juices calmed him. Sam led him to the bedroom, stripping him down as they went. "My baby seems more excited than ever," she cooed, her eyes glinting with amusement. Greg was ready for intercourse, but instead, Sam went to the closet and pulled out a pair of childish underpants with designs on them. He couldn't believe there was more to this. When had she bought these things? How long had she been planning this? Greg's embarrassment had never been higher, and he felt like he was going to cry looking at the garmet. "I don't want any accidents, baby," Sam said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "You need to wear these to protect yourself." "No sam, this is too much" he tried to say from behind the pacifier, weakly attempting to stand. She pushed him back down, readjusting the pacifier and said. "Please baby, you need this, just enjoy yourself." He could tell from her voice how much she wanted him to follow through... he laid back consenting. She couldn't believe it, her heart raced with the realization that he would allow this. Greg's face burned with shame as Sam pulled the underwear up, the fabric feeling different, more padded than normal underwear. He had a new shock realizing that these were like the potty training underwear kids wear, designed for people who can't make it to a toilet. His cheeks turned a darker shade of red. Sam rubbed his crotch, her fingers sending shivers down his spine. "You're such a good boy," she cooed. "I'm so proud of you." It only took seconds for Greg to come in his pants, the sensation of the underwear and Sam's touch sending him over the edge. Sam praised him, her voice whispering words of encouragement as she laid with him, holding him close. Greg feeling extremely tired now, moved to pull out the pacifier. Sam brushed his hand away and spooned with him, she moved her hand up to the binky gently holding it in place. Greg glanced at her realizing he wanted him to keep it in. He was too tired to think through her intentions or put up any fight and his eyelids drooped. As Greg fell asleep, the pacifier still in his mouth, rhythmically sucking, Sam thought about how amazing this felt. She had never felt so in control, so dominant. And as she looked at Greg, she knew that she could go further, push him even deeper into his submission. The question was, how far would he be willing to go?

Hey everyone! Welcome to Academy II, the final installment of Academy Works. The title is unlike previous installments, using a roman numeral instead of a letter. This is a play off Academy I, the first in the series, but it also has a few other meanings. You will quickly find that A2 is very different to the other stories! If you haven't read any Academy Works stories, there are six others in this universe. They are as follows: Academy I (Part 1), Academy B (Part 2), Academy T (Part 3), Academy K (Part 4), Academy A (Part 5), and Academy M (Part 6). Since this is the final book in the series, reading all of the previous ones will help you understand what's going on. I strongly encourage it. But if you want to jump right in on this one, I think you'll still have a good time. Thanks to all my readers and fans over the past few years. I hope this conclusion is everything you wanted it to be. You can support my work at this Patreon link, or this SubscribeStar link. ~Mia~ --------------------------------- Academy II will operate a bit differently than previous stories. Updates will be multiple chapters at once, with a bit of a twist. Please be patient and thoughtful with this new format. ❤️ Take it away, Soph. ---------------------------------

[It is already implied in the story, but for explicit clarity all characters herein are adults over 21 years of age.] [EDIT: This is just to give potential new readers an idea of what to expect. This story presents a variety of (primarily ABDL) themes, and more keep appearing as it gets longer, but infantilism is a reoccurring one, as is sexual tension between the characters and peeing/pooping diapers. If that combination turns you off, probably not a good fit. Otherwise, and especially if you enjoy a variety of themes and situations rather than a story that focuses on just one, I hope you'll give it a try. There IS a proper story here too, I promise, and actual character development, but it's taking me a few chapters to really get it going. I need to go back and edit the first chapters for stylistic and voice consistency, but I haven't gotten there yet. But problems aside, I hope you'll enjoy my humble first attempt at writing for others to see:] [EDITED FROM THE ORIGINAL POST: UPDATED TO SECOND DRAFT] The Wild North CHAPTER ONE (MACADAMIA) Only frozen foothills lay behind. Only towering rock and a fool's death lay ahead. This was a barren, sharply-sloping land of white. It was broken, only occasionally, by harsh black stone upthrusts. Plants did not grow here. It was not a place for life and living things. It was a land of sleeping giants and the black wings of carrion eaters soaring across the muted gray heavens. A giant hand of unforgiving granite blocked the entire horizon in the distance ahead, thrusting up towards the heavens with a sheer vertical face that might have been carved by the gods themselves, and for the specific purpose of thwarting the curious, and crushing the spirits of the brave. Yet in between what came before and what stood ahead were two curious figures, tiny by comparison and huddled against the blowing wind beneath an overhang of rock. Both were wearing light, draping furs over tunics, with thick wool covering their legs and vanishing beneath the lower folds of their tunics. A young woman, her posture bold and unbent, stared forward from beneath the meager shelter, her gaze sizing up the mountains before them as if judging an upstart adversary rather than a force of nature, her unrestrained shoulder-length dark hair dancing freely in the breeze. Behind her, huddling bent against the rock wall as if to become a part of it, a young man with short-cropped sandy hair followed. Macadamia, the young woman was called back home, for she was hard -it was said- like the nut. No one would ever see the woman beneath the shell, they would whisper. She had never been bothered by it. She even embraced the nickname, and no longer went by any other. She was not antisocial exactly, for she saw no value in unkindness, and she was free enough with smiles and a kind greetings, it was simply that people had never been one of her interests. She spent years, long after passing the age of adulthood, gobbling up every story she had come across, written or oral. She worked her family’s farm during the day, but spent zero time courting a suitor, or other such things that were expected of a woman her age. It had earned her the enmity of more than one man who, having spent years admiring her somewhat petite but athletic figure develop into the curves of womanhood, had no-doubt looked forward with longing for the day they might win her heart. Occasionally a man would still try. “I want to love you forever,” a handsome young man had once said to her. “We’ll… raise sheep and be happy!” She only smiled at the clumsy but well-meaning attempt. “No one should live forever,” she had replied quite matter-of-factly. A couple of women had tried as well, hoping her reasons for rejecting men was the one they wanted. Unfortunately for them all, any such feelings rode in the back of the wagon while she steered her life elsewhere, towards fantasies and books, far away places and mysteries unsolved. Each time she found a trader with a new book it was all she cared about until it was read, and read again, only to be forgotten by the next one that came along. She followed her whimsy like the northern star. There was another reason as well. She knew that few would truly want her once they knew everything about her, and she felt no need to invite stories to spread. Against all odds she did one day find a man around whom she wanted to spend time. He too had passed into adulthood but refused to play the game. With his body more graceful than muscular, and his golden skin smooth rather than worn, he was handsome to be sure - but not in the way that so many women wanted. He had no accomplishments about which to boast, would never emerge victorious in a contest of strength, had no interest in winning fame through tournaments or distant wars, and was a stalwart recluse. What interest women might show went unrequited. He was quiet and shy and had -to the best of everyone's knowledge- never actually started a conversation other than to ask a necessary question or make a purchase at the market. Yet one day he had done the unthinkable – and with Macadamia of all people. It seemed they shared an interest in history and lore, and after overhearing one of her inquiries to a book dealer he had approached her with open, unprovoked questions. The two talked, and were friends thereafter. It was only later that she discovered the poor man's father was a monster. Though seldom home, he had taken to beating his family when he was. When the father was home the son was never seen. Macadamia had met the family’s matriarch but felt only sadness for the woman with the empty eyes and forced smiles. The town frowned on the whole unhappy business, but their disapproval meant nothing to the brute of a father. Not the inflated prices from the merchants, not the cold looks or quiet stares, could draw a reaction from him. No one dared challenge him openly; the man was a mountain on two legs - so unlike his son in every way. In fact, many rumors had spread over the years about alternate leanages for the boy. Some were as fanciful and ludicrous as an affair with a visiting prince in disguise. To Macadamia he seemed nothing more, or less, than an ordinary young man who had secrets, and she understood perfectly well having secrets. She did not fancy him out of pity, but for his mind and -if she was being honest- perhaps his sculpted body just a bit as well. When she finally embarked on a worthy adventure, she knew she could not leave him behind. Not to go from day to day hiding his bruises, ever sinking into sadness in a world that did not appreciate him. Not while she was alive. His name was Elm. It was not a nickname, his mother had simply found elm trees beautiful. The irony of naming a boy 'Elm' amidst the bows of deep, green, fir-covered evergreen forests was apparently lost on the woman. Or perhaps her mind simply took comfort in imagining places far away. Macadamia and Elm had spent many nights gazing at maps and books, scribbling by candlelight and sharing ideas, to the point that rumors had spread about Macadamia taking a man after all, but refusing to claim him. The truth would have bored them all to tears. The two met for only a couple hours here and there, usually in a neutral but private setting, and frequently as the sun was waning and the affairs of the day were done. They studied obscure legends. One in particular stuck and became a lasting shared interest: a legend of a gateway, strangely persistent in its retelling across spans of history. It purported to be a path to a land without sorrow. One without poverty or hunger or hardship. A land of eternal summer. The two talked of books, shared research, did absolutely nothing romantic or sordid as the townsfolk imagined, and then went home. Until the day they did not. It was dawn when they looked back on home for the last time. They turned their gazes to the horizon as the orange rays of the morning sun kissed the dew with gentle hews. The market was closed that day. They were alone as they sat before their maps, spread out on one of the old wooden tables. The dew made its surface slick, shiny, and cold but neither took notice. They had finally uncovered what they believed to be the path to the fabled gateway, their breath coming out in puffs amidst the cool morning air, their voices hushed but excited. They considered provisions with glances and short yeses and nos. They had never properly agreed to go at all, it simply happened that they both fell silent, having said their peace, met each other’s eyes, packed up their things, and walked away. She wondered if their respective families would ever come looking for them, though she doubted it. Such sudden departures were not unheard-of. Sometimes lovers would run away, or those unhappy with the harsh northern life would spend their meager coin to leave on a trader’s cart. Sometimes entire families would have a bad harvest or lose their animals to disease and hardship, then pick up and leave one day without a word. Guilt nagged at her thoughts, for she held no resentment towards her family and knew they would worry about her, but she pushed it aside. If all went well they would return with stories of their own to tell, and discoveries that would open doors for them far away from their home of gossipers and dark secrets. There would be plenty of time for apologies then, after the worthiness of their quest could not be denied. They would be scholars, she would think whimsically, a soft smile warming her features. They could write books of their own. In her wildest moments of fancy, she wondered if they should return at all. What if there really could be such a land, and they could live there? They both knew the quest would not be an easy one. Not even leaving in the early spring as they were. Not even if their most optimistic theories were correct. It would be a long, hard journey. They had agreed. Somehow that knowledge failed to alleviate her aches and pains. It seemed that facts would forever fail to prepare her for experience. The ground had gotten steadily steeper as they neared the great cliffs. Although the snow had relented, a spiteful wind tapped the existing drifts and blew the weaponized ice crystals into her eyes like coarse sand. Their clothing had proven thoroughly inadequate for the pernicious winter weather. Apparently no one had informed the mountains that it was now spring. At least the exercise of lugging her heavy pack up the slopes kept the cold from causing more than discomfort. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Elm was still standing, then frowned; he looked likely to fall over at any moment. Concern gripped her heart and she pulled him further into the meager shelter of their shallow cave. "Elm," she chided gently after worming her way out of her pack’s clingy straps, "why didn't you say something? Here-" She dug out the thick fur she had brought along for sleeping and tossed it around his shoulders, then kneeled, and pulled him down to her until he was sitting on her lap. "We'll wait here until the wind calms," she assured him, rubbing his arms briskly. Would the wind calm? Who knew, but it seemed best not to voice that worry. Nor the other worries creeping up from the shadows of her mind, such as the one that said this whole plan might have been a tad misguided. Especially not that one. He nodded. "I'm fine," he insisted despite his tacit agreement to delay. "I won't hold you back." "I know you won't." She kept to her most reassuring tone, then said nothing as he pushed himself more closely to her, his bottom now resting firmly on her thighs as they both pulled the blanket as tightly around them as it would go. Her taller frame accommodated the posture, as if their bodies were meant to fit together, with his head coming to rest comfortably on her left shoulder. She could feel the warmth of his body, so close now, and realized she had never been this close to a man. This wasn't how she imagined it. The story books left out the part where the prince and princess were more interested in not freezing to death than dancing with endearing chipmunks and getting lost in each other's eyes. Even so, she felt as if the heat of her own body had grown just a bit too. Just two bodies close together in a warm blanket, she decided firmly, nothing more. His shivering began to subside and she felt a wash of relief, which then turned to surprise as he started... snoring? He had fallen asleep in her arms. Clearly the journey was taking a great toll on him. She mentally shrugged and let him sleep; there didn’t seem to be any harm in taking a couple of hours to nap. It had not been nearly that long when a new sensation kindled her surprise - a sudden, intense heat was spreading out across her thighs. Her heart fluttered in a brief panic. Had she..? Surreptitiously as she could manage, she tilted her head and looked down, but his round, innocent eyes were still closed in slumber. Her left arm was underneath the furs, and she nervously used it to explore. In the northern lands of her home, it was a common style of dress for both sexes to wear leggings that stopped at the mid thigh. They were usually made form-fitting and with rigid ornamentation throughout, the purpose of which -beyond vanity of course- was to force them to retain their shape rather than sliding down and bunching up at the knees. It was a strange custom for a land so cold, but proud northerners embraced it conspicuously, showing off glimpses of skin as if to prove how little the climate affected them. What they did not volunteer is that the fabric of the leggings was thick and warm, and that most people wore equally thick, warm underwear underneath their thigh-length tunics, never mind their thick fur cloaks with hoods. Northerners, it seemed, were just as vulnerable to the cold as anyone - but only the unwise would be caught leaking that secret to a southerner. Her hand explored the increasingly wet fabric of her leggings, and upwards towards her crotch. She reached inside the thick puffiness of her own undergarment, holding a tense breath, but found that it was dry. Relief warred with confusion. Her hand explored -ever so gently so as not to wake him- Elm's underwear. The frontal regions were already soaking, and the warm moisture was spreading steadily outward around the sides and bottom. Without her conscious direction her hand moved forward to the source of the flow. The bulge of his dormant manhood was like a hot spring in the cold winter air as his underwear absorbed all that it could and was forced to let the rest flow freely around her fingers and onto her lap. For a few moments she sat, unsure what to do in this situation, as the flow soaked more of her leggings, and it was during her hesitation that he blinked awake - her hand still resting on the front of his underwear. He blinked. She blinked. "What's going..?" His eyes shot wide open. "I'm afraid you're peeing yourself," she explained unnecessarily. Some dormant instinct took over and she felt a cool confidence. "But it's nothing to lose sleep over," she said soothingly, dismissing the situational irony with a frown. "Don't worry, alright?" "I can't believe this is happening," he said miserably, lowering his head to avoid meeting her gaze. "Father would..." His voice had drifted off, but her own anger suddenly flared to life, like an open fire doused with grease. "Is this why your father always acts so ashamed of you? Why he always treats you poorly and keeps you out of sight? Because you... have accidents?" "I... I kept wetting the bed," he said in the voice of one resigned to a cruel but well deserved fate. "Father used to humiliate me for it... you know, to try and get me to stop. But it only made things worse and I started having accidents during the day. But I thought... I thought..." His voice was growing even more miserable. He had omitted the beatings, though the whole village knew about them. "It's alright," she kept repeating softly. The smell of pee and wet fabric started to waft out from underneath the thick fur in which they were huddled, while she pretended not to notice. He did not seem able to stop. The odor was strong, but strangely not unpleasant. It smelled uniquely of him. The gusting wind subsided, and in the sudden quiet she could hear the hiss of his stream penetrating the fabric of his underwear before finally running out. The sudden lack of hot pee washing over her fingers made her realize where her hand still sat, and she hastily relocated it. "There now. I know you feel better. It really is alright." He grew quiet for a time, and when he spoke again his voice sounded closer to its normal even tones. "I've been getting better since I met you. I thought... I thought I could control it. Now I know I shouldn't have come..." "Don't you dare say that," she scolded him gently, "I..." She stumbled over how to reassure him, and went with the simple truth. "I wouldn't have made this journey without you anyway, and I'm so glad you came! I don't want you to worry about this at all." When she continued to hold him and he didn’t pull away, she was struck by a feeling of rightness to the situation – of caring for him and reassuring him. She had been doing it almost instinctively since they had met, she now realized, and the instinct was only becoming stronger. The cold weather and blowing moisture prowled only feet away as the wind resumed its hunt. Wet clothing would only make its bite stronger, but their warm northern wool would provide some protection even when wet, and she saw no more reason to depart right now than she had before. She said as much and gently persuaded him to get some rest. When her persuasions failed she tried something new: she started humming a soft, gentle tune just as her mother had always done for her. It felt strange to share experiences so innocent and yet so intimate with a man who was close to her own age, but his youthful manner and appearance might have allowed him to pass for a younger brother. Did she want to think of him that way, as a boy? Or did she prefer the man? Perhaps all men had a dual nature, a vulnerable child still hiding within. She leaned back against the rock, unable to completely deny her own exhaustion. Did she really mind so much if that were true? Maybe his strange innocence was something she liked about him. Nothing wrong with that. Was there? Sleep took her by surprise after several minutes of stroking his coarse, sandy hair, still humming that same, mellow tune. A voice whispered in her dreams. It said that they would soon need to find their legs, and their courage. It said that far more than wind and weather awaited them out here, in the wild north.

Chapter 1: The Accident "No, no, no, no," Emily whispered to herself as she scrambled out of bed. She wanted to cry. Her pajamas were completely soaked. Running her hand back over her bed she realized that it to was soaked. She had wet the bed. Bedwetting wasn't new to Emily as she had started having nighttime accidents a few months before. The only issue was that because of her accidents, Emily had been wearing Huggies Pull-ups to bed every night. Well, except last night, of course. Last night, she had decided that she was a big girl and didn't need to wear one of her pull on diapers and so after her mom wished her goodnight, she switched her Pull-up for a pair of panties. Emily knew that her mom would be upstairs soon to check on her and make sure she was up and getting ready for school. She needed to hide the evidence from her accident, fast. She stripped off her pajamas and slid them underneath her bed. She didn't have time to shower and so she did her best to towel off before getting dressed for the day. when it came to her bed, Emily only had one option and that was to remake her bed like she did every morning and hope her mom wouldn't realize she had an accident. She would deal with it when she got home from school. "Emily," July, Emily's mom, shouted up the stairs. "Are you ready yet?" "Coming mom," Emily replied. She made sure that everything was where it should be before heading downstairs. "What took you so long, sweetheart? You're going to be late." "Sorry mom, I slept past my alarm clock." "Hmm, ok. Did you have an accident?" "Mom," Emily whined, "I didn't wet the bed." She hated being asked that question. It made her feel like a baby. "Alright, I'm just asking," July replied, handing Emily her lunch box and water bottle. "Now come on, let's get going." Grateful her lie had passed, Emily grabbed a pop-tart out of the pantry before climbing into the back seat of the car. Now all she had to do was make it through the school day without her Mom finding her wet bed and pajamas. With that, Emily dove into her strawberry pop-tart with a sigh as her mom pulled out of the driveway. Throughout the school day, all Emily could think about was her accident. She was worried that her mom would find her wet sheets and the thought made her uneasy. Even if her mom didn't find out about her accident, she had no idea how she was going to clean up her sheets without being asked about them. Maybe she could pretend to spill some juice on her sheets to have an excuse to wash them? No, she would still get in trouble for spilling on her bed and her sheets would smell from the accident. The whole thing made her head hurt and she wished she had just worn the stupid Pull-up in the first place. As soon as the bell rang after school, Emily grabbed her backpack and fought her way through the horde of kids to the car rider line. She only had to wait a few minutes before she spotted her mom's car and sure enough her name was called out by one of the teachers. A pit formed in Emily's stomach as she climbed into the back seat of the car. All she wanted to do was pick her mom's brain about whether or not she had found out about her accident. Emily knew better than that though and kept quiet about the subject. "Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?" "It was good. We got to go to PE today instead of music, and I got an A on my math test." Emily's uneasiness was already starting to go away as she relaxed. Her mom was asking the usual after school questions. She didn't seem suspicious at all about the accident. "That sounds like a fun day. Anything else you want to tell me? "Not really. We started a new book today in class, but it's pretty boring." "Is that all you want to tell me about?" "Yyyaaa." Emily fidgeted in her seat. The pit in her stomach was back and she felt a little nauseous. Her mom had to know something was up, but she wasn't going to admit to anything. "Are you sure there's nothing else that happened. Outside of school maybe?" It was over. Emily knew her mom had found out about her accident and it was time to fess up. Her face was bright red and full of shame. She tried to avoid the conversation a minute longer by gazing out the window. "I... I had an accident last night." "I know you did, sweetheart. Why didn't you tell me?" "I don't know." "That's not an answer, Emily." I... I didn't want you to be mad that I didn't wear a Pull-up last night. I'm sorry momm... mom. I... I didn't mean to." Emily was on the verge of tears. She felt bad for lying to her mom. She didn't normally lie, but lying about the accident seemed better than admitting that she hadn't worn a Pull-up to bed like she was supposed to. "Sweetheart, you should have told me this morning." "Would you have been upset?" "Yes, sweetheart, I still would have been upset that you didn't wear a Pull-up, but we all make mistakes. What I'm more upset by is the fact you lied." "I'm sorry, it won't happen again." "I know it won't happen again because there are going to be some changes around the house." "What do you mean?" "You'll find out when we get home. I want to show you your room before we talk." Emily didn't know what to think. What had her mom meant by "changes around the house" and why did she need to see her room? The only thing she knew for sure was that she was in big trouble and she slumped back in her seat, sitting in silence for the rest of the drive. At home, Emily slowly trudged inside and set her backpack down. She watched her mom head upstairs and she tried not to follow. She wanted to stay as far away as possible to try and avoid whatever punishment she was about to receive. "Emily, where do you think you're going, little one?" July asked, holding out her hand. "Come on, let's go see your new room." Little one. Emily had never been called this before. It stopped her dead in her tracks. Her mom had never been so serious and yet so calm before. She had no choice but to take her mom's hand and follow her up the stairs. Taking each step as slow as possible to try and delay the inevitable. Upstairs, Emily found something she wasn't expecting. There was a new sign on her door. It was a cute, pink sign that was very babyish in design. What she couldn't figure out is why it read "Emily's Nursery" in big bold letters. She had to read the sign a second time just to be sure her brain wasn't playing tricks on her. She hadn't been mistaken though, the babyish sign on her door hinted that there was a nursery on the other side of the door. Her nursery. But that didn't make any sense. She didn't have a nursery, she had a bedroom. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart, go look inside." Emily wasn't sure if she wanted to see inside, but her mom's firm hand on her backside coerced her into the room. Thanks for reading! This is my first story here on dailydiapers so please leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Erica and Jim, and Karen and I have been friends for a long time. Our families go to the park together with their children, celebrate holidays together, and only live a few miles from each other. Erica married Jim right out of high school and they have been married for 6 years, while Karen and I have been married 3 years.One summer during our high school days, Erica and I dated a few times. One time, Erica had me over when her parents weren't home. We decided to watch "Happy Gilmore" together, and then headed into town. During the movie, it became evident that Erica was willing to get physical that afternoon. However, I did not take advantage of the situation, as I was nervous. After a few dates, we decided to go our separate ways. Neither of us had any regrets about this decision until a few years later.The summer after we both graduated, Erica and I got a job working together. Erica was then engaged to Jim and I was single. We were both very happy, and the relationship between us was strictly friends, and neither of us wanted different. That summer, she and Jim got married, and I began dating Karen.Several years passed as I went away to college, married Karen, and eventually graduated. Erica continued to work at the same place, while her husband was making his career. Erica and Jim had their first child while I was in college. Erica decided to stay home with the baby, and that was when my feelings for her changed.It was a fall Friday afternoon, and Karen and I were driving back from our apartment at college to our parents' house for the weekend. Karen decided that we should stop by Erica and Jim's new home. We pulled into the driveway, walked onto the porch, and knocked on the door. Erica answered the door holding her 3-month old girl, and she was visibly frustrated. The baby was crying, and she said was nursing her when we came to the door. It was then that she sent my mind and hormones racing. She looked a lot better than the last time I had seen her. Her breasts had grown astronomically, but she still had a small frame. Erica looked fantastic! She was wearing a maroon shirt, one with hidden flaps on the sides for easy nursing access. I knew all about this, as I had a great interest in these sorts of things. She let us in and showed us around the house, but I don't remember anything she said, as my mind tried to picture her breastfeeding the baby.Karen knew about my fantasies before this encounter, and she had role-played them with me several times. But, she really didn't like this role-play, so I didn't push it too often. I definitely didn't tell Karen my feelings for Erica that day, nor have I since then.After I graduated from college, my wife and I moved back to where we grew up close our family, and, of course, close to Erica and Jim. After a year or so of renting a house, we finally purchased a home in October about 5 minutes from them. It was perfect in more ways than one. My wife had our first child, and he had just turned 1 when we moved into our new home. Karen breastfed him for about 6 months, but never let me taste any of her milk. It was OK with me, as we were still very sexually active.We both agreed that she would stay at home and raise our children while I worked on my career. This gave us the flexibility that we both desired, and we enjoyed our lives very much. It was that flexibility that allowed my wife to spend 2 weeks in December vacationing with her family down south while I stayed home alone and worked. She had done the same thing the year before, but this was the first time she left me alone in our new home.She had been gone a few days when I received a call from Jim."Hello," I answered."Mike, this is Jim. Erica and I would like to invite you over for dinner Sunday afternoon, with your wife being gone and all. Sound OK?""Sure," I said, "I could use a home-cooked meal. Two o'clock OK?""Sounds good," he said.This excited me very much, as it always excited me to see Erica. She just had their second child, and looked better every time I saw her. Her breasts had gotten big again, and she didn't gain as much weight with her second child as she did with the first. Our relationship had become strange lately, as we often avoided conversation when we saw each other. I just thought it was because I always fantasized about her, and talking to her only made it worse. I could never read how she felt about me. She probably would never speak to me again if she knew the thoughts that I had about her. Regardless, I couldn't wait for Sunday.I knocked on the door at 1:55 with much anticipation and nervousness. I had been with Erica and Jim many times, but not without my wife. Also, I knew Erica was breastfeeding, and merely the thought of that sent my mind racing."Hi Mike," Erica answered the door. "Come on in."I walked in and handed her the pan of brownies I had made for dessert."Thank you," she said, and carried them into the kitchen. From the kitchen, she said, "Jim got called in to work; I guess it's just going to be me and you. Is that OK? I told Jim I was going to call you and let you know before you came over, but I forgot."Are you kidding? Of course it was OK with me, I thought."Well, maybe I should go, with him being gone and all.""Oh, I am sure he doesn't mind, besides, I could use the adult conversation.""Alright, if you insist", I said smiling.At her request, I sat down at the table and waited for her to set the food on the table. As she leaned over to set the tray of lasagna on the table, I took a glance down her shirt. She lifted her eyes, and I looked back down quickly. She was wearing a button-down short sleeve shirt, and appeared to also be wearing a nursing bra underneath. It appeared to be the one with a snap on each shoulder that opens the cups for easy access for the baby. Now my mind was racing as I began to fix my plate, and luckily, the table was hiding my erection.During dinner, we made the usual chit-chat about our kids, work, houses, families, etc. I didn't eat much nor contribute much to the conversation, as all I could think about was maybe getting a glance down her shirt again. Just then, a cry came from the baby room."I guess the baby's up," she said, and ran upstairs to attend to him. She picked up the baby and brought him downstairs. "I think he just needs to be changed," she said, and proceeded to lay him on the living room floor to change his diaper. I watched her change him and thought about how lucky he was. She picked little Jimmy back up, sat on the couch, and began to soothe him to get him to quit crying."Why don't you come sit on the couch and watch some TV?""OK" I said and turned on the TV.About 10 minutes passed by, and the baby was still crying. "I guess he's hungry. I'm sorry, but I have to feed him. Would you do me a favor and hold him for a second?""Um, sure," I said, taking the baby.She then positioned herself on the couch, grabbed a blanket, and laid it on her shoulder covering her chest. She reached her hand under the blanket, and appeared to unsnap her shirt."OK," she said, "you can bring him to me now." I gave her the baby, and she laid him in her lap, put his head under the blanket, and began to nurse him. Erica tried to downplay the situation by not looking at the baby while he was breastfeeding, but I couldn't help taking glances over at her."Karen breastfed David, right?" she said."Yes, she did."After a few moments of awkward pause, I noticed Erica was blushing as she was jostling with the baby. "I'll be back in a few minutes, I'm sorry," she said, and carried the baby upstairs.While she was upstairs, my mind began wondering what was going on. I couldn't believe she was feeding him right here beside me, I thought. God, how I wanted to suck on those breasts for her. I went to the restroom down the hall to calm my nerves and to let my erection subside.When I came out the restroom, she was sitting back on the couch. I sat down on the recliner on the other side of the living room. I noticed her squirming, and could tell that she was in some discomfort."Is everything OK?" I asked."Well, it's just that the baby is not eating enough, that's all""Oh, is that why you are in pain?""Yes, Jimmy just fell back asleep after I started nursing him. It's just frustrating, I guess.""Oh", I said, starting to blush."What's wrong, Mike?" she asked."It's nothing, Erica, I should get going"."Come on, we're good friends, tell me what's on your mind. Please?"After some deliberation, I told her my innermost thoughts about her. After all, I had to know how she felt about me so I could quit fantasizing about her. Thinking about her was tearing me up inside."Well, I have been thinking about you a lot lately," I started."Oh?" she said quizzically."Yes, I have, and I think I should just lay it all out for you to get it off my chest.""Go ahead, I'm listening.""It all started a few years ago when Karen and I came over after you guys just moved in this house. Your daughter was just an infant then, and when we knocked on the door, we interrupted your nursing her.""Yes, I remember", she said."Well, I have always fantasized about a woman breastfeeding me and treating me like a baby, and when you said you were nursing her that day, I could not get the thought of you out of my head. It had been a while since I had seen you at that point, and you looked amazing. I was very excited when you guys invited me over for dinner, because I thought I may get a chance to see you breastfeeding little Jimmy. Anyways, I am glad I finally got a chance to tell you how I feel."I could see Erica was shocked to hear all of this. "Wow, I had no idea you had these thoughts about me. I'm very flattered. Honestly, I have had thoughts about you too. I noticed that when we see each other, we avoid talking. I have always been attracted to you physically, but I didn't think that you were. I never really wanted to stop dating you, but I knew that's what you wanted."At that point, you could cut the tension with a knife."Well," she continued, "I will help you if you will help me. My breasts hurt really badly, and it sounds like you can help me get the excess milk out."I couldn't believe what my ears had just heard."Yes, I can and would love to, but I am a little nervous. You'll have to tell me what to do," I said."Come over beside me on the couch and sit down," she said. I moved over beside her and waited for what was next. She looked into my eyes, and started slowly unbuttoning her shirt. With the undoing of each button, I could see more and more of her massive breasts, which were covered by the white nursing bra. When she got about ¾ of the way down her shirt, she said "OK, now lay down on my lap on this pillow". I turned my body and laid my head down into her lap and looked up into her chest."Is baby ready to nurse?" she asked."Yes!" I said, very excited that she was playing into my fantasy.She then opened her shirt, revealing that bra that I had been dreaming about for so long. Her breasts were popping out of the bra; she must have been a 40D. She tucked her hair back behind her ear and reached for the snap by her right shoulder, smiling as she looked at my eyes. She unclipped the bra, and slowly brought the flap down, uncovering the most beautiful breast I had ever seen. She then grabbed her breast, and directed her nipple towards my mouth."It's time to eat, baby. Now latch onto my breast and suck real good."With that request, I was off. I latched onto her breast and sucked for a few seconds until the milk starting coming out. It tasted so good, and this moment was so sensual that I closed my eyes. Her breast was so full and hard, that some of the milk dribbled down my chin."Mmm", I moaned."Baby was so hungry, huh? Now you drink from mommy till all the milk is gone, OK baby.""Yes, mommy," I answered as I took a short break from sucking. As I latched back on, I could tell she was enjoying it too as she made a few sounds.I nursed from her right breast for I guess about 5 minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. When there was none left, I unlatched from the breast."Mama, this one's dry, I think I need to nurse on the other one.""OK, baby, hold on" she said.She began to reposition herself, when I stopped her."Hold on. I have been such a good boy; may I unsnap the other side?""Yes you can, baby," she replied.I sat up from her lap, swung my left leg around her body, and now was sitting in her lap facing her body. I unbuttoned the shirt the rest of the way, and pulled it away from her body. Then, I slid the shirt off of her shoulders and tossed it onto the floor. The empty breast was now hanging out with the full breast still cupped by the nursing bra. I then reached my hand to unsnap the flap covering her left breast and slowly pulled it down. I went face first into her full breast and sucked some of the milk out."Baby, mama needs her bra off. You just lay down and mommy will take it off", she said."Mama, can I take it off for you?""Sure baby, but let mama take your shirt off." She pulled my shirt off and rubbed my chest and body with her hands.I leaned forward and pressed my bare chest against hers and wrapped my arms around her. I found the hook, unfastened her bra, and pulled the straps forward off of her shoulders. She took the bra from me and tossed it on the couch. I laid back down in her lap, and began to drink the rest of her milk."Mmm, mama likes baby breastfeeding" she said as she rubbed my face with her hand. Then, she reached down and rubbed my stomach. As I continued to feast on her breast, her hand reached into my pants and she began to rub my cock."Baby so big", she said."Ohhh" I moaned as she unzipped my shorts and caressed my balls. I then grabbed the dry breast and began to massage it."This one's almost dry too," I said, "what should we do?""Follow me", she said, as we got up off the couch. She zipped my pants back up and put her shirt on unbuttoned. With my head still spinning from the best 10 minutes of my life, she grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs.As she led me down the hallway, we stopped at the baby's room. She opened the door and led me over by the changing table."Come on, it's time to put a diaper on baby. Now get up on the table."Without hesitation, I hopped up on the changing table. This was a little difficult as the table was only about 3 feet long. The table was topped with a pad, and I laid down on my back on the pad. She reached down and grabbed a diaper and began to unfold it. She leaned over me and removed my shorts and underwear."Spread your legs", she said, "I've got to put a clean diaper on you".I spread my legs and rested them on her shoulders as she prepared the diaper."Lift your bottom, baby" she said. She then put the diaper under my ass. She pushed my hips against the pad as she pulled the diaper over my penis. "I have a couple of special diapers that I keep for special occasions like this. They are big enough for adults, but have the sticky tabs like baby diapers. I also cut a hole in the middle for your penis."She pressed the diaper against my hips, and pulled the diaper tight by fastening the sticky tabs. "Baby's all done. Now you have a clean diaper.""Thank you mommy", I said and hopped off the table."Now, let's go to the bed", Erica said, and led me into her bedroom. "Mama needs to finish nursing you".I laid down on the bed on my side, and she laid on her side next to me. She pulled back her shirt again, and I latched on to her breast."Finish nursing and mommy will play with you." I nodded as I was enjoying Erica's big mommy breasts. She reached down and played with my cock as I breastfed."OK, I think we are done nursing. Now let's take care of mommy." With that, she stood beside the bed and took off her shorts and underwear. She got on the bed, reached behind my head, and placed two pillows behind my neck."Just lay back and let mommy take care of everything, baby""OK, mama" I replied and laid my head on the pillows.Erica then pulled off her shirt and tied up her hair."Mama's gonna suck on you now."She moved down to the end of the bed, got on her knees on the floor, and began sucking on my cock with the diaper still on. I closed my eyes as she started sucking slowly. She then rubbed her nipples against my penis, dribbling some milk onto my diaper."Uh, oh, baby's diaper is wet now. Let mama take it off." As she wrapped her mouth around my penis, she slowly undid the tabs of the diaper and rubbed my sides. She removed her mouth from my penis, and proceeded to pull off the diaper and toss it on the floor.She moved onto the bed, stood up on her knees, and lined up her vagina with my penis."Mama wants daddy now," she said as she slid my dick into her vagina. She rode up and down, up and down, up and down."Harder!" she yelled "Harder! Harder! Harder! Here cums mama!! OHHH!!! OHHH!!! OHHH!! We both screamed together as we climaxed together.When she finished, she laid down beside me and rubbed my chest as I sucked on her breasts some more."Thank you, mama. Don't hesitate to invite me over for supper." This was a story I copied and pasted years ago. I can't recall where I got it. Hope everyone enjoys and if the author shows up and wants it to go down, please let me know.

I've revamped the cover of the previously released book, The Godfather's Offer, and I want to share it with the folks at DD. Feel free to grab a copy this weekend between Friday shortly after midnight June 5th until midnight June 7th. All times are US Pacific Daylight Time. Thanks for your support all these years.

(All characters in the following fictional story are above the age of 18.) I saw my Little visitor, Bobbie, crouching in the corner of my living room. I smiled because I knew a Little’s ‘poopy face’ when I saw one, and I was excited for this moment to come. You see, little Bobbie has come to stay with me a few days ago. Of course, I immediately demanded he start wearing diapers, despite his dire protests. “Mommy,” (What I’d instructed him to call me due to his ‘Mommy’s boy’ behavior problems), “I don't need diapers! I'm potty trained, I pwomise!” “Oh yeah?” I replied as he laid naked before me on the diaper changing table for the first time. “How do you explain these filthy stains in your underpants? Or the urine you splashed on the toilet seat? Or what we have right here...” I grabbed a wet wipe from the side of the diaper changing table and dragged it down his naked little bottom and twirled it around his bum hole. He winced and blushed as I teased his bottom. It was my favorite look to see on a boy when I changed his diaper— the special mixture of humiliation and helplessness. I held up the dirty wipe for him to see. “It's very clear you are *not* potty trained at all, given that you don't even know how to wipe your own bottom!” I scolded. Little Bobbie hung his head in shame. I knew I had won the battle over what undergarments he'd be wearing from now on. I gently slipped a paci in Bobbie’s mouth and shaved all of his pubic hair off for easy future cleaning (I also love to see a boy’s peepee so nice and smooth on the diaper changing table!) I then finished wiping his bottom, powdering him, and wrapping him tight in a nice, thick, disposable diaper. As I helped Bobbie off the change table in his new diaper, his bright red face told me he was speechless with humiliation. I was blushing with exhilaration. I took great glee later that day (as I always do) when I told Bobbie, ‘when in diapers, toilets are off limits.’ I grinned as I watched him squirm and make a very, yellow, soggy diaper for me to change. And over the last few days, I've relished every chance I’ve had to squeeze his soggy diaper and tease him for being such a ‘peepee pants’. But what I was really looking forward to... was Bobbie’s first ‘mess’. Of course, it was clear Bobbie intended to hold his ‘number two’ as long as he could. It’s concerning to any Mommy to know that their Little is getting constipated. (An unavoidable fact to learn when one only changes ‘yellow’ diapers over a period of days.) I knew Bobbie hadn't taken his diaper off to relieve his bowels somewhere else due to the locking mechanisms I began using to ensure that only I could remove his diaper. I also knew Bobbie was putting some serious effort into ‘holding it’, since the diet I had been feeding him certainly ‘encouraged’ the voiding of his bowels. But I patiently bided my time, knowing that the more backed up he got, the better the ‘moment’ would be. Finally, that afternoon, I decided to give him the ‘help’ he needed downstairs to finally go over the edge. I secretly inserted 6 glycerin suppositories into his bum during his diaper change. It was overkill, certainly, but I had decided that Little Bobbie deserved a very ‘urgent’ sort of accident. Maybe then, he would think twice about ‘holding’ it in the future. Now, it was just an hour or so later, after a very fiber packed dinner in his high chair, that Bobbie was retreating to the corner to do what I call, ‘the poopy shuffle.’ That is, Little Bobbie was trying to find a spot to crouch down and hide, while grabbing his tummy, while grunting, while holding his diapered butt, while dancing on his feet, still hoping to hold it in. “Bobbie,” I called out with a smile. “What are you doing over there in that corner?” “Nothing,” he whispered. “Oh yeah? Well it looks like you're doing a poopy. Is that what you're going?” I asked again from across the room. “No!” He grunted. “Bobbie, if I come over there and check that diaper in five minutes, and I find out you lied to me because your diaper is full of poopy, do you know what's going to happen?” I chastised. “No,” he grunted again. “I'm going to put you over my knee for a very hard, very long spanking! Poopy diaper or not,” I said. He grunted, looked at me with his bright red face, then looked away again. He stuck his thumb in his mouth (something I told him he must do whenever in the process of using his diaper) and said, “Okay Mommy. I'm doing a poopy!” I smiled. I walked toward him and began gently rubbing his back. “Good boy. Good boy, making a poopy in his diapers for Mommy,” I coo’d. I could tell he hated the way my touch invaded his privacy even further while making it harder for him to avoid ‘doing his deed’. I then placed my hand on his diapered butt and began to gently pat his behind. “Make a poppy diaper for Mommy. Go ahead, Bobbie,” I coo'd. “Just make sure Mommy knows when it's coming out.” “I'm going, Mommy,” he grunted. “I'm going poopoo,” he grunted loudly. I smiled with delight as I felt the back of his diaper fill up with a warm, brown mass. I began squeezing and patting his mess as he continued crouching, grunting, and pushing more of his hot load into the seat of his crinkly diaper. “Good boy! Making your poppies for Mommy! Keep going! Make a big stinky diaper for Mommy to change,” I continued to coo as I mushed and squeezed the mess contained in his diaper. “Mommy,” he moaned involuntarily. A loud hiss rang out, and I knew his bladder was releasing as well. I watched with joy as the front of his diaper turned bright yellow. I continued massaging, fondling, and mushing his mess against his bottom he continued to sweat and grunt and squeeze in front of me. Soon it was clear little Bobbie was wearing one of the messiest, poopiest diapers I'd ever seen! And knowing how much Bobbie had resisted doing it made it that much more satisfying to watch. “Pee ew!” I said after he had finally stopped grunting and caught his breath. “You are one, poopy baby, aren't you!” I teased as I lightly patted his poopy diaper butt. “Yeth, Mommy,” he replied with his thumb in his mouth. “Do you want a diaper change?” I asked him as I continued mushing his poppy diaper into his butt and groin. “Yeth pwease,” he said, his thumb still in his mouth. “Yes please what?” I asked. “Yeth, pwease, Mommy, pwease change my poppy diaper,” he begged. His face was redder than I'd ever seen it. I could tell that the relief of his evacuation was fading—he could fully take in the warm and stinky mess he had made, and I knew he was being overwhelmed with waves of extreme embarrassment and shame. I was in heaven. “Okie, Bobbie. I’ll change your poopy diaper. Right after we get you some milk,” I said with a smirk. Bobbie groaned with dread, but he knew better than to argue. I picked Bobbie up in my hands, carried him over to my couch, and exposed my breast from my maternity bra, just as we had done every night since he has arrived. He immediately went to town—latching on my voluptuous breast and sucking down my warm breast milk. “Hungry, poopy baby!” I said with a laugh. I patted his poopy bottom as he drank, relishing the sensation of Bobbie sucking down my milk while I fondled and mushed his stinky diaper against his bottom with my hand. I knew that Bobbie was now feeling littler and more babyish than he ever had in his adult life, and the feeling of transforming him through such intense humiliation made me practically euphoric with arousal. “Mommy,” he said, looking up at me with my warm milk dripping down his chin. “I have to go weewee again.” I giggled and patted his butt again. “It's okay sweetie, your poopy diaper can hold it. Go ahead,” I said as I switched him over to my other breast. I smiled with pleasure as his already soggy diaper dropped just a little bit more as he let out a new stream of warm, yellow urine into the front of his diaper. “Good boy. Mommy’s little stinker is such a good boy,” I coo’d as he hungrily swallowed the milk from my other breast. By the time my breasts were finished, Bobbie had fallen asleep in my lap—no doubt an effect from the warm milk, my warm lap, and well, his warm, soiled diaper. I lifted Bobbie up and carried him to his nursery. I put Bobbie down on his diaper changing table, and with a predictable *squelch*, his mega poopy mess squeezed out through his leg holes. “What a poopy boy!” I said to the sleep Little. His face predictably reddened. I laid him back on the table, undid the tapes of his diaper, and lifted up the diaper to take a look at the damage. “My my! This is the poopiest diaper Mommy’s ever seen!” I teased as the stench of his mess wafted into the room. “Sawwy, Mommy,” he replied, his thumb in his mouth again. “It's okay, little one. You can't help it. You're just a little baby who needs Mommy to clean up his poopy messes, aren’t you?” I coo’d as used the front of his soggy diaper to wipe the chunks of his brown mess off his bottom. “Yeth, Mommy,” he replied. *** Although some Nannies don't like changing poopy diapers, personally, I love them. That's because, when I looked down at Bobbie’s stinky, open diaper in front of me, I felt an incredible and transcendent power over the little one, as I always do. My observation of Bobbie’s stinky mess alone represents an incredible act of domination that communicates his total helplessness and dependence on me as his caregiver in his most embarrassing and vulnerable state. There is nothing more thrilling than watching his transformative humiliation in real time as he experiences the babyish sensation of my cool wipes patiently cleaning him up his filthy bum. As I lifted his legs, scrubbed his mess, sang to him about his stinky accident, gently fingered his bottom to get it ‘extra clean’, showed him the massive load in his used diaper before throwing it out, sprinkled him with baby powder, and wrapped him in an extra thick, fresh, clean diaper, I knew I was doing what I love best when it comes to being a Mommy for my Littles. And as I put little Bobbie in his jammies and tucked him into bed, I knew I couldn't wait to do it all over again tomorrow. *** Did you enjoy this naughty little diaper story, my Little? Find tons more of my ABDL stories by visiting me at: www.nannychloetales.com www.amazon.com/author/nannychloe https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/NChloe And by following me on Tumblr! http://nannychloetales.tumblr.com/ XOXO Nanny Chloe

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