Search the Community

A Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story. So, this will be my next story set in the diaper dimension. I fully admit that I am not paralyzed myself, so I hope I do not offend anyone with this topic, but after tearing a muscle in my back this summer, I couldn't help but think of what I would bargain away to get rid of the pain or the problems that I was having. It seemed to good of an opportunity to pass up. If everything holds, this story will be divided into 6 parts, but all will be posted within this thread. If nothing goes wrong, I should have this completed before mid-October and I'll likley be picking up shortly after with a bit of a different story with magic and diapers and whatnot. It's not my usual fair, but I wanted to do something with Halloween in mind this go around. I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter! Part I: New Beginnings Chapter 1: Crashing Through Life The storm had been raging for the better part of the day, but Patrick had to be picked up from a friend’s party. He had run his truck into the ground and the engine likely needed to be fully replaced according to the auto body shop that had towed it away two days ago. He sighed and scoffed deeply as he entered his mom’s car, still frustrated over the fact that he couldn’t get a rental car until tomorrow and thus had to rely on her for transportation. Of course, Laura had noticed immediately and just let it go to maintain the peace between the two of them as usual. For the past two years their lives had touched briefly about every two weeks now in between visits. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t want to start another fight over it. About halfway through the drive back home, however, Laura turned onto a long stretch of road with only two lanes. It saved everyone who took it about an hour of driving, but it was a dangerous stretch that had claimed many lives. She had just gotten off her shift at the hospital so getting home as soon as possible after dropping her son off at his home was the main priority before her lack of sleep caught up to her. As a nurse, she knew very well the number of deadly crashes that had occurred here even in perfect weather. Patrick mumbled something under his breath. “Say something, honey?” Laura asked sweetly, trying to keep the spark alive with her ever-further distant son. Patrick shifted and just continued to stare out the window. “No…” Laura continued to stare at him with her tried and true facial expression that she had used on him since he was two years old. She didn’t say a word, but her well-crafted look said all it needed to. Patrick groaned. “Fine, mom. Geez! It’s just embarrassing to be picked up by my mom when I’m 25.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. Just drop it…” It was now Laura’s turn to sigh. “You know how I hate that word…” “What? Fine?” Laura nodded. “It’s just a word, mom, and it’s just how I feel. I’m fine.” Laura sighed again. “I’m sorry you feel embarrassed sweetie, but your car is still in the shop getting repaired and your rental won’t be ready until tomorrow. You’re lucky my shift ended when it did, and I could pick you up. Something tells me that your other friends back there wouldn’t have been… uh, as safe.” Laura tiptoed around outright saying sober, but Patrick still caught on to her insinuation. “Yeah… maybe. But it was a party!” Patrick threw his hands up in the air. “We were celebrating Sam’s promotion at work!” “And that’s wonderful, dear. I just wish your fun would have been safer. I am your mother. It’s practically in the job description to worry about my only child.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “Yeah… it’s just my stupid car is all. Would have been fine otherwise.” Laura sighed. “Honey, I love you, but that car has been on its last legs for months now. Even as mechanically inept as I may be compared to your late father, even I could tell that. Sometimes I just wish…” Laura faded off. Patrick turned to her with an annoyed look, one that was continually adopted by him whenever they talked about his dad. “What?” Laura shook her head and gave a small shake of her hand to wave him off the subject, before quickly snapping it back to the shaky wheel from the elements outside. “What?” Patrick pressed again. Laura sighed. “It’s just that…” She paused and took her eyes off the road for a second to reflect on her next words. Lightning crashed all around the two and the rain seemed to only pepper their car further. The only positive was that with all the bends in the road, both could see the exit off in the distance whenever the lightning would light up the sky. Having taken the road before in more favorable conditions, ten more minutes and they would be off this stretch and nearly home. “I just wish you were a little… less carefree.” Patrick groaned. “Sorry I’m not some corporate shill like all my other friends,” Patrick said with a deep undertone of sarcasm. Laura winced at the implication. She wanted the best for her son, but she also wanted him to be happy, a fact which couldn’t necessarily be said about his other friends who had pursued careers for money instead of what they enjoyed. “You know that’s not what I want for you, I just… you’re so darn talented. You could do so much…” Laura said wistfully. “You know how much I admired you for not becoming an engineer, doctor, or lawyer like half the block. I mean look at them all now. Out of the ten friends you grew up with from there, seven went on to have one of those three jobs. Now, only two of them have still stuck with it.” Laura let out and exaggerated breath. “I want you to follow your passions, but I just wish that you would pursue them a little more…” “It’s my life, mom. I don’t want to burn out like all the rest. Can’t you understand that?” Patrick’s eyes pleaded out with his mom. He wasn’t poor or anything, but no one could consider him wealthy either. He had tried engineering for a while, but after an intense argument one fall semester, Patrick had changed his major to art. Currently, he worked for an ad agency, but he was still the low man on the totem pole. Laura saw the desperation in her son’s eyes. She knew he had the potential to do well, but two years at the bottom of a company was long enough. Something had to be done. “I do, honey. I just wish…” “Yeah, yeah. You just want me to work a little harder. Work for my position and all that... It’s a nice sentiment and I’m trying sometimes but there’s more to it.” Patrick paused and looked at the ground for a brief second to gather his willpower to continue this conversation. Once collected, he shifted his head back up to meet his mom’s turned and loving gaze. “I… Mom! Look out!” Patrick quickly reached for the wheel to turn out of the path of the oncoming tractor trailer as his mom tried to react to it as well. It was too late though. The large vehicle had slipped out of its own lane and was coming right for them. In a second, the two cars collided with a sickening crunch. All at once the world lurched forward as glass and metal spewed in all directions. Two large pieces came hurdling toward him and his mom. * * * “No!” Patrick bolted upright in bed. He was soaked in sweat and his breathing was labored. Per his old therapist’s recommendation, Patrick looked around the room to steady himself by using his five senses. It took a minute to complete properly, but it really did help, and he once again thanked the universe for lining him up with her after the crash. He looked around the room and shook his head. “Five years… where has the time gone?” Patrick glanced over at his small, old alarm clock and saw that it was 8:06 in the morning. He groaned audibly. “I was hoping to sleep in today, but there’s no point now. Just got to get on with things…” Patrick adjusted himself in his bed, and after many years of practice by now, with a grunt, he was able to swing his legs over and to the side of the bed. Some people had massive cramps in the morning with his condition, but not Patrick. With a large sigh, he collected his wheelchair and then hoisted himself into it. It was black and lower to the ground without any handles in the rear for him to be pushed by someone else, as requested. He lived alone and dealt with all this by himself. It sucked most days at this point, but that was just life after the accident and his ensuing paralysis. His suffering was part of his self-enforced punishment for what had happened. The accident had done many things, but Patrick had fractured his L1 through L3 vertebrate. It caused a lot of issues initially, but the most apparent were what he had to deal with in the morning ever since he had managed it himself since that night. With a groggy sigh, Patrick wheeled himself over to the bathroom to relieve himself. Due to the nature of his injury and his doctor’s plan, it was discovered that enemas and intermittent catheterization were the best policies to avoid any accidents or blockages. Patrick had been a private person about most of that stuff before but now, he knew that he just needed relief. Personal happiness or feelings of modesty had to be placed aside occasionally to ensure nothing got worse. He collected the necessary materials and winced as he prepared himself for the now daily ordeal. The incident that had occurred two years ago when he had to be hospitalized over a blockage then was a painful reminder to just set one’s ego aside and get this whole thing over with. Positioning himself correctly, Patrick applied the apparatuses to relieve himself. It was darn frustrating to do this every morning, but he knew that it needed to be done. About twenty minutes or relief and cleanup later, Patrick wheeled himself out of the bathroom after washing himself off and removing the catheter. “One day I might get used to this… maybe…” Patrick sighed and then rolled himself over to his easily accessible dresser. With some careful maneuvering, he quickly popped out a pair of jeans and a nice polo shirt. Today was a special day and he didn’t want to look like a complete bum. His beard had already grown out and he knew his mom would have disliked how it framed his previously gushed-at round and rosy cheeks. Satisfied with his appearance and groaning after finally getting his shoes on with a little manipulation, Patrick rolled out to the kitchen. After a quick spot of cereal later and the popping of some pills, he was out the door with his usual backpack attached to the rear of his chair. It had everything he would need for the day, and he at least had the common sense to pack it the night before in case it was one of the ‘bad’ mornings. Closing his door, Patrick looked distastefully at the view before him. His apartment was decent but was by no means the fanciest in town. Sparse furniture and minimal wall decorations all desperately noted his still-single status and overall depression. Dating was tough in this town, but the accident or its consequences always seemed to weigh too heavily on his mind to make a real effort to even contemplate a change. Regardless, Patrick then locked his door and rolled down the hallway and to the small elevator at the end. A few neighbors acknowledged him as he wheeled by on the creaking laminate flooring in the hallway, but none made the effort to give him a full ‘hello.’ Patrick had given up on trying to be friendly a year after he moved in here. It was just too much effort for too little of results. On the ground floor and right before he exited the apartment building, Mr. Stacci bumbled out of his front door. “You! Patrick!” Patrick halted and pivoted his wheelchair back to face his odious landlord. “Yes, Mr. Stacci?” he asked as politely as he could. Rent control still wasn’t in place around here and Mr. Stacci was highly known for charging more toward those he disliked. “Rent is due. Pay it in the next day or you’re out!” His breath wasn’t necessarily foul, but if this was a cartoon, a green and noxious odor would have likely spewed out of his chubby and tiny head and all over Patrick as he lumbered over to him. “Yes… right…” Patrick acknowledged. He had the money thanks to some family funds but keeping track of time always felt hard these days. He kept a calendar on his phone, but it remained an issue of his since the accident. “You’ll get the money on time. Promise.” “Good.” The heavily obese and balding man huffed by the front entrance but then squinted his dark and beady eyes. “You know I’m a man of my word. Money tomorrow or you’re out.” Patrick just nodded solemnly, hoping the encounter would end soon. Fortunately for his sense of smell though, Mr. Stacci seemed satisfied and turned about and crept back into his own first floor apartment. A few of the old pictures on the wall briefly rattled as his door slammed close. Patrick sighed at the encounter, made a mental note of the rent while checking his phone calendar, and then made it outside and to the nearby bus stop. He lived in the city and cars just gave him a bit of anxiety now, so the bus system or newly installed public transportation monorail were good enough and had at least become more reliable since the influx of technology in the past two decades. The bus soon halted and lowered its platform device for Patrick to get on board. A few stared as he locked himself into position, but Patrick just ignored them as he usually did by now. It had become routine and Freddy, the bus driver, just gave a nod of his head when Patrick signaled that he was ready. The two rarely spoke, but Freddy had trusted him enough to let him lock himself in by now. It was no secret to anyone that even slightly knew him that Patrick still liked his independence. About thirty minutes after a bumpy and uncomfortable ride later, Freddy announced, “Seventh Street! Seventh Street!” With all the automation in technology, Freddy appreciated the warmth of the personal announcement that he would give out on his bus. Plus, his booming yet gentle voice usually woke anyone up who had fallen asleep and would prevent them from missing their stop. At the current seventh street, Patrick made no motion to Freddy to stop, but he did anyway only meters away from turning into the bust stop. Patrick had taken this route several times before, so Freddy only maneuvered the controls to let Patrick off near the curb. Satisfied after Patrick had made it off, Freddy closed the doors and leaned back in his seat. Soon, the bus was huffing away down the hilly road to the east and eventually out of sight. Patrick sighed at the loneliness of seventh street but then wheeled himself a block to the west and halted before looking up at the large sign above him, ‘Grace and Prosperity Cemetery.’ Patrick blinked back the tears that always seemed to form when he entered here and fervently hoped that one day that might stop. Still, today was more important, and after purchasing a bouquet of flowers from a nearby vendor, he pushed forward more in the cemetery and finally made it to a small plot of land perched on a hill looking over the growing and buzzing city in the near distance. The grave was large and had been purchased years ago by his father. The black granite was practically a mirror to all else that went on around it, but the intricately carved white lettering provided a nice contrast that his parents both appreciated when they were selecting it together. When his father passed away suddenly, his mom and him both found the site a bit depressing but still elegant and regal. Today wasn’t any different. “Happy Birthday, mom.” The accident had taken away more than the majority of feeling from Patrick’s waist down; it had also taken his mom’s life. The storm had caused a delay in rescue and treatment which led to his mom bleeding out more than the doctors could repair as well as the deadening of his nerves in his spine. The distant city shone against the cloudy atmosphere of the day and stood as a symbol of all the change that the world had undergone after discovering portal technology. Trade agreements with the Amazons, or how they liked to be called, Bigs, had fixed so many of the world’s previous and seemingly insurmountable problems. Pollution was quickly becoming a distant memory and most citizens of the world had enough food and power to at least be satisfied, if not comfortable. Even medical treatments had started to advance, but like all things, they had come with a price and had their limits. Now, his mom might have been saved, but even a few years ago, well… the grave was evidence enough of the technology not arriving in time to save her life. Patrick fumbled around in his backpack and pulled out an old silver flask. His dad had given it to him when he had turned 18, much to the chagrin of his mom, but it was a nice reminder of better times. “Cheers, you two.” Patrick toasted the stark gravestone etched with his parents’ names and then took a swig of the whiskey he had poured into the flask last night when he had packed his backpack. “I hope you all don’t judge me for this…” he said, gesturing to the flask. “I know the doctors advise me not to drink with my medication, but… I’m sure if you all can hear or see me now… you would get it.” Patrick took another swig and casually glanced around to see if anyone was watching him. They likely wouldn’t care, but he still didn’t want to be watched in pity. He still had some standards to maintain… Another hill over, Patrick could see a family gathering around another gravestone. Their heads were all hung low, but each held each other’s hand tightly. It wasn’t the first time, but the loneliness of it all could still be felt just as keenly as when he first realized he was now all alone. “Honestly, a sibling, an aunt or uncle… someone would be nice by now. Can’t blame you all, but ugh… I just miss you all… so friggin lonely around here these days.” He took another swig and winced a little as a few more drops went down his throat than were intended. It burned but on days like this, feeling the burn almost felt good. Given his current predicament, the burn was at least something. He was already numb in so many other ways, so even the sting in the back of his throat was a reminder that he was still above ground, unlike most of the people here today. Patrick then laid the small bundle of flowers he had purchased on top of the grave and gave another toast with his flask. “Cheers to you all. Sorry to be the downer and all… but if I hadn’t… I only wish… I would have done that night very differently…” Patrick blinked back an errant tear. It wasn’t the first time he apologized or felt guilty when coming here. While his inheritance and disability let him live a comfortable life, the guilt that plagued him after that night with his mom was nearly intolerable. To say the least, there had been several low points in the five years since the accident. Patrick wiped his face and then gave one more cheer and a long sip of his flask before rolling back out of the cemetery. Staying longer wouldn’t do anyone any good and would just give him more ammo of feelings of guilt later tonight. He had figured that out the hard way three years ago when he had stayed until dark. Rolling down the block, Patrick briefly stopped at the bus stop where he had originally got off and he knew from experience that Frank would be here within the next thirty minutes, but today was different. From his position at the top of the hill, he could see a small corner bar. Knowing the drinks were strong and cheap from other times he had visited and then deviated from going straight home, he knew that it felt like just what he needed today. The neighborhood was in a failing state of what once was in society and the city. Some areas had been refurbished around the world that once looked like this, but the portal industry had changed this area for the worse. A new city center was established to the west and the original neighborhood had been left in ruin. A large and shining billboard clearly indicated the decrepitude of the chipped paint and broken brickwork buildings was not to last and soon, the new industries would be here as well. Likely, in a year, the bar now in front of him would no longer be here. “Progress…” Patrick popped some more pills before shaking his head and then wheeling himself inside. After a single beer with his sandwich, Patrick leaned back in his wheelchair and observed the patrons around him in the aging sports bar. It was still slow, but at least five people had already stared at him from their own positions at the bar or at a nearby table. He picked the corner spot to avoid more attention being drawn to him as usual, but in a place like this, someone like him tended to stick out no matter what they did. Patrick was paying more attention to his sandwich when one of the patrons started speaking loudly and caught his attention. “…stupid Amazons… All of dem are stupid… Isn’ dat wigh… right, Bill?” The man was obviously intoxicated, and the bar counter seemed to be one of the few obstacles that stood in the man’s way from completely collapsing. “Sure, Sam…” the bartender acknowledged but also partially dismissed of the patron. From his face, Patrick could see that it wasn’t the first time that this had happened with the local drunk. “Stupid tall fascists came here with all their… fancy technology…” He leaned more heavily into the bar. “I had a good job, Frank… Coal power plant.” He hiccupped. “Hippies hated us… but it was a good job!” “Good job. Right, Sam…” He polished another glass and nodded his head. “Then they came in… with the government and all. It was such a happy day.” The man took another swig from his drink. Patrick couldn’t tell what was in it. “You remember that, Frank?” Frank sighed. “I do, Sam…” Patrick did as well. Most people alive back then did too. Patrick was only five, but even at that young of an age, it wasn’t every day that a race of beings comes from a different dimension and offers your world a treaty that would only seem to solve everyone’s problems. “Yeah! Had a mass on my liver. Hardening even back then, and boom! Gone in a day!” He then got a smug look on his face. “Iss why I can drink all… this,” he gestured to his quickly draining drink. “Can’t kill me anymore!” Patrick stared at the local drunk and couldn’t help but notice almost the sad hint in his voice. He had obviously lost his job when the fusion reactors outside of town had popped on. It was free energy and the Amazons had offered job training, but the more stubborn or set-in-their-ways folks had elected for unemployment instead. ‘Idiots…’ Patrick’s father had eagerly signed up for the training. Built his own business from what he learned in the new offered classes by the new beings and then sold it for a nice chunk of change. Their small family would be financially set for years to come, but almost like a curse from that windfall of money, after only a year of joy, the next six had then claimed both his parents. “Alright… I think you’ve had enough for the day, Sam… let me call you a ride.” Frank quickly tapped on a nearby touch pad and instantly sent for a ride service to pick Sam up. It was simple and convenient and now, most just accepted the service after it was practically fully funded by the city once true unemployment and homelessness had almost been eliminated. It was a good life… ‘Too bad it was all too late for my family though...’ Patrick continued to sit in the bar for the next four hours. The light began to dim outside, and Patrick had relieved himself in the bathroom twice already with his mobile and disposable catheter products. Each had cleared his head a bit, but once he had switched to the harder stuff beyond beer an hour ago, his inebriation only seemed to take a life on its own. By the time it was night out, Patrick was feeling everything, and his inhibitions were fully lowered. The sadness of the day had been briefly put on hold. For a minute, he could almost imagine himself back with his friends before the accident if he just shut his eyes. Then, a very beautiful and leggy redhead sauntered into the bar from outside and sat at the steadily crowded bar. She was alone and many looked at her with longing looks of their own after her stunning entrance. After three guys struck out, Patrick decided to try his luck and wheeled as smoothly as he could right over to her. With a breath, he spoke in the voice he used to use to pick up women before. It had a bit of a swagger to it, but it practically breathed confidence and sincerity. “Hey there, red. I’m Patrick. Mind if I ask what’s your name?” The woman swung around to meet the gaze of the voice next to her, but after a moment of seeming confusion, her eyes dropped to the figure beneath her. After a moment of looking unsure of what to do next, she finally spoke. “Oh… uh, Mary.” “Good to meet you…” He hiccupped and could feel the stronger effects taking over. He had to push forward, but this bravado probably wouldn’t last long. “Uh… sorry, Mary. You live around here?” Not having dated for a while now, his social skills weren’t as refined as they used to be, but he still had a smidge of confidence about him. His fifth whiskey on the rocks had helped with that. Mary looked at the man below her with the same sense of loss and almost pity that Patrick had come to expect. “Yeah… but um, I’m…” “You here by yourself?” Patrick blurted out. His heart had fallen a bit at the looks she was giving him, but he had to push his luck. Mary grimaced a bit over the suddenness of the question. “Umm… yeah, but look, uh…?” “Patrick…” he said, starting to sound a little deflated at the notion of her not remembering his name already. “Right… look.” She sighed. “You seem nice and all…” Patrick could feel his drunkenly inflated hopes start to quickly fade. “But I have a boyfriend…” Patrick groaned. This was headed for failure anyway, so he decided to push his luck further. In times like these, inhibitions might have been a good thing. “Right… do you though?” he questioned. The words had just slipped out and Patrick could immediately tell that Mary wasn’t prepared for them. After her initial shock of his rudeness, her eyes squinted in annoyance. “Well, if you really must know, then no. I don’t have a boyfriend.” Her eyes narrowed further, and her voice started to rise. “I was actually just trying to protect your feelings at a rejection, but I suppose that doesn’t matter.” Patrick started to shrink away in embarrassment. Many of the growing number of patrons in the bar began to look in pity over the developing event before them. Mary seemed to notice as well and took a moment to collect her feelings. “Look, you seem nice and all… probably… but you’re drunk, and you just seem… you look like you could use a shave and maybe a haircut.” She sighed. “Maybe in another life, but not this one and certainly not today. Understand?” “Yeah… okay…” Patrick’s drunken revelry and confidence was no more. With all the dignity he could scrounge left, he quickly downed a few more rounds back at his old table, but after a few stares from those around him, however, he felt that his welcome here had passed. Subsequently, he rapidly paid for his food and drinks and exited without another word to anyone or even a glance back to the woman who had turned his advances away. The still-seated Mary and the others stared back in sympathy over the figure they saw exiting the front door, but Patrick was too entombed in his own self-pity that he didn’t notice. He didn’t even hear Frank call after him to get a ride back like he had done with Sam earlier. Once outside, Patrick rolled on through the streets. The neighborhood was still a bit of a relic and leftover from the old days of the city, and no time like the night was this more evident. Many of the lights were still their old energy sucking and dimly lit versions, which were barely able to keep even the streets below them properly lit. As such, there were many alleyways and dark corners. Gangs and drug deals were rampant in certain spots and Patrick actively avoided them at all costs. Once completely out of view of the bar and a few wandering people on the streets, Patrick began to curse himself as he made his way back home. “Stupid, stupid, stupid! Damn alcohol!” he cursed out loud. “Why would someone like that even talk with someone like me? Who am I but a lowly failure?” He paused his wheelchair in front of a partially cracked window that barely showed his passing reflection. “Fitting,” he huffed as he looked back at his own image. “Fading away and cracked down the middle…” He shook his head in disgust and wheeled onward. While his confidence from alcohol had seemingly evaporated, his overall drunken state still hadn’t. “Stupid accident… stupid party! If I had just stayed over or found my own ride, she would still be alive! Stupid! Stupid!” Patrick took another round of pills and then rolled his wheelchair down a particularly uneven sidewalk toward one of the distant bus stops. The dim lighting and his drunken state were too much though, and he missed a large crack in the sidewalk until his front wheel got caught in it. “Oh shit!” Patrick cried out when he realized the predicament that he had just gotten himself into. Unfortunately, no one was around to help him out so he tried as best he could to dislodge himself. It was no use, but he stubbornly persisted. It proved to be too much however, and his chair tipped over to the side after one of the larger lurches. “Ah! Damn it!” The wheelchair fell on the ground and Patrick sputtered out in front of it, landing with a dull thud on his head on a piece of the upturned sidewalk. In pain, disoriented, and still very drunk, Patrick looked about him for any signs of anyone that could help. Being a part of the old city that most were no longer frequenting, he reaffirmed that he was all alone. Now, Patrick had been diligent about his intermittent catheterization at the bar. It was mighty uncomfortable at times, but he had a routine. With his mild rejection and drunken state though, he had neglected to empty his bladder before he left. As such, the impact of the fall had caused the damn to burst, but Patrick still hadn’t noticed… until now as the urine encroached on his stomach. “Shit… did I fall in a puddle?” His head throbbed and his vision was becoming blurrier by the minute, but he quickly cocked his head down just to see the damage. To his horror though, all he saw was a wet spot emanating from his crotch and lower portion of his shirt. “Unbelievable…” Normally, he would have shaken it off and just gone home. He had a change of clothes in his still attached and nearby backpack, but the bump on his head and his inebriation were proving too much for his body to handle. Darkness began to overtake him and the last thing he saw was a pair of flashing lights and then a large white truck pulled up with ‘Oasis Opportunities’ plastered over the side. He could hear some distant shouting and the sound of footsteps, but he soon slipped out of consciousness and into a world of only darkness.

I awoke lying on my back naked, staring up at the ceiling. Noticing an odd sensation in my hand, I lifted it and saw that I was still wearing my wedding ring. I smiled, admiring it on my hand. ‘Lily’s Husband’ had a nice ring to it, I thought. Just then, the door opened, and I turned to see the woman in question entering the room. “Oh, Aaron! You’re finally awake!” “Finally?” I asked, starting to sit up, but she pushed my chest back down with one hand. She was holding something in her other hand - if I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a diaper. “Impatient for more loving?” I smirked. “No, Aaron, don’t you remember?” She said. “We got into an accident on the way back from the wedding. You’ve been unconscious for months, and the doctors say you’re going to be paralyzed for the rest of your life.” “Accident?” I said. “We didn’t have an accident. And I’m not paralyzed, look!” I lifted my arm. She took my hand in hers. “Oh, I’m afraid you are. Look, you can’t move your hands at all.” At those words, a peculiar shock went through me, starting between my shoulder blades and running down both arms. I felt a heaviness go through them, and when she gently set my hand down, I couldn’t move it anymore. Or the other one, lying on the bed beside me. Panic flooded through me. “What’s going on? I can’t move my hands!” I cried out, and kicked, trying to leverage my legs to sit up. “I told you, you had an accident.” Lily said, and stroked my leg soothingly. “You can’t move your legs, either.” This time, the tingle started in the small of my back, and shot down both legs. They went limp, the bent one flopping against Lily, who gently straightened it out. “Lily, what’s going on? Why are the things you’re saying coming true?” I asked. “Because they are true, honey.” She said. “I’m your wife, would I lie to you?” “Can I talk to the doctor?” I asked. “I want to see the doctor.” “Of course.” Lily said. “I’ll just get you dressed and in your wheelchair.” I lay there helplessly as she dressed me, my mind racing. What was happening? How was this possible? Had I actually had an accident, and I was just not remembering things right because of a head injury? When she picked me up, cradling me in her arms like an oversized, ungainly baby, I yelped, thinking I was going to fall. But her grip was firm and strong. “How?” I asked, staring at her. “How can you pick me up so easily?” “I’m your wife.” Lily said. “It’s my job to look after you.” She set me down in a wheelchair and started strapping me in. As she did, another problem came to my attention. I really, really needed to pee. “Um, Lily. Before we go, can we stop off at the bathroom?” I asked. “I need to pee.” “Are you sure?” She asked. I scoffed. “I can tell when I need to pee.” I said. She started stroking my crotch, and I was surprised to feel something thick and crinkly, muffling the sensation from her hand. Was I wearing a diaper? I hadn’t been paying attention when she dressed me, but I should have noticed that! “No, you can’t.” She said. “Ever since the accident, you can’t feel when you need to pee, it just happens.” “No!” I exclaimed, and tried to pull away, but I could already feel a tingle traveling from my dick up into my core. As it faded, I realized the sensation of needing to pee was gone. And in its place, I felt a warm, wet sensation growing in my crotch area. I was wetting myself, I realized. It was such a strange feeling. I couldn’t feel my bladder or the muscles that controlled my pee. I couldn’t really feel it coming out at all. All I could feel was the wetness against my dick and balls, soaking into my pubic hair. “How are you doing this, Lily?” I asked. “Taking care of you?” She asked, flicking some sort of lever on the side of the wheelchair and wheeling me out. “I’m your wife, in sickness and in health.” I shook my head. “Whenever you tell me something the accident did, it comes true.” I said. “You’re doing this somehow.” “Oh, no, honey. You’re confused. You suffered a head injury, you know.” She said. “You were in a coma for months. The doctors sent you home, they said you might never recover. I’m amazed you’re even awake, I’m not surprised you’re disoriented.” I shook my head, but didn’t say anything. She was right about one thing - I was confused. My instincts were screaming at me that something was wrong, and somehow, she was doing it. But how was that possible? She pushed me to the kitchen. “Let’s get you fed, first.” She tucked my wheelchair up against the table and took out a cloth to cover my front, and then poured a bowl of cereal. “Eat up.” I hated being fed like a baby, but it wasn’t like I had any choice in the matter. I certainly couldn’t feed myself. So I opened my mouth and let her spoon the cereal in as I chewed unhappily. She didn’t say anything as I ate, seemingly focused on her task. But when she brought the last spoonful up, she steadied my face with one hand and directed the food in with the other, and she spoke. “It’s so sad that you can’t even talk.” She said. “It must be so frustrating for you, not being able to do anything.” I swallowed so fast I nearly choked, as the tingling started in my throat and permeated my mouth and cheeks. “Please, nnnn.” I said. “Mmuh.” It was too late, I realized. I couldn’t even get one last sentence out to beg her to stop. She wiped my face clean, then pulled me forward against her torso. “I’d better check your diaper. I know you can’t control your poop anymore, and you usually need to poop right after a meal.” As the tingle in my butt faded, I let out a grunt as I involuntarily pushed out a mess into my diaper. I was vaguely aware that I’d also started peeing again. “I knew it! Phew-ee! You’re stinky!” Lily said. “I’d better get you changed right away!” I tried to ask her why she wanted me to be messing myself if it was so gross. “Um-muh.” Right, I couldn’t talk. She wheeled me into the living room and laid out a plastic sheet, then lifted me onto it. “Don’t worry, Aaron. Even if you never recover, I’ll always be here to take care of you.” She said as she opened up my diaper and started wiping me clean.