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The one thing Madelyn desires most in the world is to wear diapers again, and she is prepared to do anything to make that wish come true. As inexplicable as that desire is for a twelve-year-old girl, it is one she has obsessed over for the past three years. Ever since Madelyn tried on a pull-up that a distant cousin had used for bedwetting, the thought of what it would be like to forego her underwear for that padded, crinkling sensation between her legs has been a desire she has been unable to shake. Every other plan to get her hands on diapers or pull-ups has failed up to now. But this time it is going to be different. This time it is going to work. This time she isn’t going to back out at the last minute. The plan is simple. All Madelyn has to do is intentionally begin to wet the bed at night. Then, her parents will have no choice but to get her the diapers she so badly desires. What could possibly go wrong? Chapter 1: Daydreams in Class I will not chicken out this time. That was what I had told myself two days ago. That was also what I had told myself yesterday. Third time was the charm, right? It was easy to put a bold face to my latest harebrained scheme to acquire diapers from the safety of my daydreams. It was much harder when the time came to actually carry out the plan that had been brewing in the back of my mind for the past year – one I had finally decided to put into motion this week. Why would a 12-year-old girl want to wear diapers in the first place? I don’t know. All I know is that for the past three years, nothing I have done has been successful at getting this obsession out of my head. I certainly didn’t have any interest in being a baby. My younger brother, Jackson, is only six years old. I discovered where Mom kept all his old baby stuff long ago. I’ve tried his old pacifiers, bottles, and sippy cups. None of those items held any appeal for me. I can’t stand kids’ TV shows. I can’t color to save my life. And don’t get me started on dollhouses, barbies, and whatever other toys babies like to play with. In every aspect of my life other than this strange desire for diapers, I wanted to act my age. My latest plan all started a year ago with a magazine and a desire to procrastinate on my homework. There had to be some level of irony to the fact that this latest idea came about when I was seated on the porcelain throne. Mom had almost a dozen different magazines she subscribed to. Most of them found their way to the bathroom, which was also probably the only circumstance where I would have even considered reading them in the first place. I was already finished doing my business, but leaving the bathroom meant needing to continue a homework assignment I’d been slowly picking away at for the past hour. The only reason I even bothered to pick up a copy of the Reader’s Digest on that day about a year ago was for the few sections where it had funny jokes and stories. That, and I had left my smartphone in the bedroom. I really didn’t know how my parents managed when they were my age. I skimmed through the first section of jokes. Whoever had put together this edition of the magazine had totally mailed it in. There was a completely unoriginal one about redheads and souls that had me tempted to toss the magazine in the garbage. I mean, with how many magazines Mom had, would she even miss it? Redhead jokes get old really quick when you’ve had people telling you them your whole life. It has been forever since I’d been told one I hadn’t heard before. And even longer since I’ve been told one that was actually funny. Maybe I would have better luck with the second humor section toward the back of the magazine. I flipped through the pages casually when one of the advertisements caught my eye. I could scarcely believe what I was seeing. There it was. Right on the page. An exact replicate of the pull-up I had briefly stolen from a cousin two years ago. But there was more. That pull-up from two years ago had been the boys’ designs. This ad showed that there were ones for girls as well. And even though I’d had a pretty good growth spurt in the past two years, the product info indicated that I wasn’t even close to being too big to wear them. I didn’t tuck the magazine in the trash, but I did take it with me from the bathroom, burying it deep inside my box of miscellaneous things in my bedroom. I’ve looked at that page at least once a day for the past year. “Earth to Maddy. Earth to Maddy. We’re calling in.” My head jerked upright from the hard wooden desk in my math classroom to the sound of laughter. “Here!” I called back to our math teacher. “Well, thank you for joining us again, Maddy. Now,” he said, pointing to a cluster of numbers, letters, and symbols on the whiteboard, “that we’ve isolated ‘x’ on this side of the equation. Can you tell us what it is?” I had enough trouble paying attention in classes that I liked. For ones I hated? The temptation to daydream was hard to resist. And I hated math class. It was hard enough when we were dealing with regular numbers. I would be lucky to scrape by with a “B-” on my report card. But now, with the end of the school year in sight, my math teacher had ever-so-helpfully decided to give us a sneak peek of some of the things we got to look forward to learning next year in eighth grade. I sucked at long division. But it at least made sense conceptually. The numbers were real, even if doing the work to get the answer was tedious. But now there was this thing the teacher called Algebra, where we were supposed to be adding up letters as well as numbers, which was beyond my ability to comprehend. Every “x” and “y” on the whiteboard seemed designed to taunt me. May as well put a “D” or a “C” on the board, as that was about what I could expect on my report card next year if this was what was in store for me. I stared blankly at the whiteboard with the sinking feeling that even if I had been paying attention for the past five minutes, I wouldn’t be any closer to understanding what was going on. “Um,” I said, picking at my nails while I continued to stare ahead. I had to at least give some kind of guess. But my brain and my mouth sometimes aren’t exactly in sync with one another. “The spot.” “I’m sorry. What was that?” Mr. Thompson asked. “You know, the spot. Like, ‘x’ marks the spot.” The classroom was full of laughter again. This time with me rather than at me. I made eye contact with one of my friends, Angie, who turned to look back at me from the front row. We shared a smirk at the joke. Mr. Thompson sighed. “Everyone settled down, please.” He gave me a look that suggested he might be once again telling my parents about how I had apparently been disruptive in class. “Now, Maddy, if you had been paying attention as we worked through this problem, you would know that the answer was actually…” I didn’t even manage to pay attention long enough to get to the answer to what ‘x’ happened to be or what sorcery had been used to arrive at that conclusion. I fixed my eyes on a spot on the whiteboard, a method I had mastered to trick teachers into thinking I was actually paying attention to their nonsense when I’d rather be daydreaming. My thoughts slipped back toward my plans for this evening. The third time had to be the charm, right? It wasn’t really my fault the first two attempts at wetting the bed had failed. The first night, I had simply been too tired. We’d had an exhausting soccer game that evening that had gone on to overtime, and we’d been shorthanded, so I hadn’t spent almost any time on the bench. I had fully intended to stay up past midnight but had used the excuse of being tired to back out of it. Instead, I let myself drift off to sleep without wetting the bed. During the second night, I’d managed to stay up until 1 a.m., but I had found it impossible to make myself pee. I simply hadn’t had enough to drink. I had considered simply pouring water on my bed, but I was worried that might not be convincing enough should my parents make a closer examination of my bedding. I could have snuck off for a glass of water in the kitchen and stayed up another hour, but again, I chickened out and pushed the plan off to another night. But tonight was going to be different. I was going to be drinking as much water as I could tonight, and I would skip going to the toilet before going to bed. Plus, tonight was Friday, which meant it was pizza night, so as long as I picked out a caffeinated soda, I should be able to keep myself up late enough for this plan to work. I realized that I was likely going to have to keep this up for multiple nights. One random night of bedwetting — after having never wet the bed since I had been potty trained at the age of two — wouldn’t be enough to convince my parents to take action. But if I could have the courage to keep it up long enough, they would have no choice but to purchase the pull-ups shown on the magazine page for me. I would make sure to leave that old magazine out in a way that would get Mom to see the advertisement. It was a desperate move, but I couldn’t wait any longer for the pull-ups. I knew from other advertisements I’d seen that these pull-ups were sold in stores. Had there been a store close by that I could bike to, I might have considered going out and purchasing some for myself on a day when I had been left at home on my own. But that wasn’t an option for me. I still had over three years to go before I would be old enough to get my own driver’s license. I had already waited three years for this. I couldn’t possibly wait three more. “Maddy. Earth to Maddy. Hey!” There was the sound of hands clapping together a single time. More laughter. I blinked rapidly, adjusting my gaze over to Mr. Thompson, where he was standing at the front of the classroom with his palms still pressed together from making the noise he had used to so rudely interrupt my daydreams. “Maddy, please just take one of the homework sheets and pass the rest behind you.” I looked straight ahead, where Chloe was holding a stack of papers with her arm stretched out toward me. She rolled her eyes at me as I grabbed them from her. In a rare moment of self-control, I did not stick my tongue out at her. I took one of the homework sheets and passed the remaining one behind me to where one of my two best friends was sitting. The three of us had initially been seated next to each other. But Mr. Thompson decided a few weeks into the school year that doing so was too much of a distraction. Emma, who had been seated to my right, was switched to the seat behind me. Angie, who had been on my left, had worse luck. Not only was she moved to the front of the class, but she had to sit next to Ryan, who had the disgusting habit of picking his nose in public. But that was OK. We’d have the whole weekend together. Tonight was the beginning of the playoffs for our U13 soccer team. We’d had a moderately successful season, meaning we’d managed to somehow win more games than we lost over the past several months. It was disappointing that the spring soccer season was so close to coming to an end, but we had the opportunity to keep it going this weekend if we could manage to string a few victories together. The bell rang as the final class of the week came to an end. Mr. Thompson belted out more instructions about the homework as I slid the piece of paper, with all its archaic symbols and equations, into my backpack. I’d just ask Angie and Emma later to see if there was something I’d missed in his instructions. I joined my two friends in the hallway. We all lived in the same neighborhood, so we rushed off to catch the bus together. They chatted excitedly about the game tonight, but I walked alongside them in silence. My thoughts were somewhere entirely else. My mind settled on the image of the pull-up I had held in my hand three years ago. The few minutes where I had examined it thoroughly, my fingers tracing over its whole surface. How it had felt to wear it for a couple of minutes before I was forced to set it aside, not knowing the opportunity was one I wouldn’t get again for years. Should everything go as planned, I would be wearing a pull-up again in less than a week. But to accomplish that, I needed to wet the bed tonight – on purpose. <><><> Three years ago If there was a single moment that perhaps best defined the last three years of my life, it was that day three years ago when it all began. The day I first laid eyes on a simple object that would become an obsession I would never be able to shake off. I didn’t cry at the funeral. I knew, intellectually, that this was what people were supposed to do. But even the sight of my aged great-grandfather lying in the open casket hadn’t moved me to tears. It wasn’t as though I wasn’t sad, but it was a more abstract kind of sadness. That kind that has someone thinking heavy thoughts about what happens after death, not that kind that leaves someone bawling on their knees. I had no memories of the man lying in the casket. My parents said I had met my great-grandfather three times. But I had been too young to have any memories of those visits. My older sister, Grace, on the other hand, was devastated. It was her first funeral as well. She had memories of her great-grandfather. The man in the casket was not an abstract concept to her, but the ghost of someone who had played with her and held her in his arms. Jackson cried as well, but that was just because he was a baby. You could never exactly tell what it was that they were upset about most of the time. The three-year-old boy likely just needed a nap. But the funeral home wasn’t where that pivotal event in my life transpired; it was merely marked the event that gave cause for all my distant relations – grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins – to join together from where they were all scattered across the country. The reception after the funeral was where the fateful moment occurred. The adults ate, drank, and smoked while kids split into playing games with others of their age. There was a cohort of preschoolers huddled around a TV, watching stupid kids’ shows. On the other end of the spectrum was a collection of angsty teenagers Grace had abandoned me to hang out with. They weren’t particularly welcoming of youngsters, and my normally friendly sister had shooed me off after I attempted to tag along with her. Not that I cared that much. Other than my sister, teenagers made me a bit apprehensive. Besides, there were a half-dozen other kids my age to hang out with. My mom introduced me to two boys shortly after we arrived at the house for the reception. One of them, Alex, was eight. Though he made clear he would be nine in a few weeks, which would make him as old as me. His younger brother, Timothy, was seven. The boys were distant cousins from half-way across the country. There was some technical term Mom used for exactly what type of cousin they were to me — second cousins, twice removed. That didn’t mean anything to me. All that mattered was that they were my age and more than open to finding some way to play in order to pass the time while the adults did whatever adults did. We hit it off immediately. We did what kids that age normally do. We fell into the habit of playing simple games with each other as if we had been friends all of our lives. The two brothers were staying at the house where the reception was being hosted, so it was only fair that they gave me a tour of the massive building. We explored the expansive backyard, winding our way through the adults in the garden until we were shooed away. We played in the basement for a while, which had foosball and ping-pong tables before the teens decided that was where they wanted to be hanging out instead. But there was still plenty of house to explore. Alex and Timothy led me up a winding staircase to some rooms upstairs, where they had been sleeping while their family stayed with the relatives who were hosting the reception. That’s when I stumbled across a stunning revelation. One that would shape my life for the next three years. Haunt my dreams. Hound my thoughts. Practically drive me crazy as I was often left incapable of thinking of anything else. There was something out-of-place sitting in the corner of the room on top of a pile of discarded laundry. I tended to usually say the first thing that came to mind without regard to whether it was socially appropriate to do so. I wasn’t any better at that at the age of nine. I pointed at a blue undergarment in the corner that didn’t exactly look like a normal piece of underwear. It was not as though I didn’t have a good suspicion of what it was. But I wanted confirmation. “What is that?” Timothy walked casually over to the corner and picked it up. “Oh, that’s my pull-up.” I looked at the item in his hand. He was seven. That couldn’t possibly be his. I felt sure I was the subject of some kind of joke. “Don’t be silly,” I said. “You’re too old to wear pull-ups.” “Older kids sometimes need to wear pull-ups,” he said, still holding the item in his hand. His defiance left me no less confused. I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that even fits you.” I hadn’t intended in any way to dare them to put the pull-up on. But that must be how that statement had come across. Alex snatched the pull-up out of his brother’s hand and tugged it on over his dress pants. “See,” he said. “It fits. We wear them ’cause we still wet the bed.” They were bedwetters. And they weren’t the least bit ashamed of it. That was at least a topic that I understood. I had no intention of teasing or bullying them. While neither my brother nor I were bedwetters, my older sister had wet the bed up until a year or so ago. Why hadn’t I put together a connection between pull-ups and bedwetting? Come to think of it. I wasn’t even sure if Grace had worn pull-ups during her bedwetting phase. She had her own room, which I was very much forbidden from going into, so if she had, there wasn’t any way I would have known about it. When I had first learned of my older sister’s predicament, my parents had sat down with me and calmly explained what bedwetting was and how I was to never shame or tease her about it. And given how privately they had handled her condition, and the fact that it hadn’t ever impacted my life at all, I truthfully hadn’t ever given her bedwetting much of a thought. Alex mistook my pensiveness while considering my sister’s bedwetting to mean that I was still confused about the topic. He launched into a long explanation with words like enuresis, explaining how bedwetting was just a medical condition that he and his brother would grow out of. “Do you wet the bed?” Timothy asked me. “No,” I replied. I came close to continuing my reply and accidentally outing my sister, but I would never do something that mean to her. Alex still had the pull-up around his waist, completely unconcerned with how silly it looked. The pull-up had a picture of Spiderman, my favorite superhero, on the front. I pointed that out, which led to another conversation about which Marvel superheroes we liked best. Timothy was big on Iron Man. But Alex insisted that Batman was better than any of them. My eyes kept glancing down at Alex’s waist. I found myself unable to look away from the pull-up for long. The sight of the pull-up around Alex’s waist raised another thought. That pull-up would fit me just as well. My distant cousin and I were both about the same size, after all. I didn’t question the desire to wear the pull-up. Once the impulse had taken hold of me, there was little else I could think of as I distractedly continued the conversation with my cousins. Our parents called us down for dinner. Alex ripped the pull-up off and tossed it back in the corner of the room before we retreated down the stairs. I was unable to concentrate during dinner. Alex and Timothy were across the table from me, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut about what I had just witnessed. I was filled to the brim with questions, most of which I would have to keep inside unless I were presented with another chance to have a private discussion with those two bedwetting cousins. But there was one question more important than any of them. One perhaps best answered on my own rather than by asking them. What did it feel like to wear a pull-up? While the adults were content to sit and chat around at the table long after their plates were clean, that wasn’t the case for us kids, and soon we were back to running around; Timothy, Alex, and I were joined by another four cousins. Big houses and hide and seek go hand in hand together. We agreed that hiding upstairs in the house was against the rules for the game of hide and seek. That meant that the upstairs room where the pull-ups were waiting for me was technically off-limits. But I didn’t care one bit about the game. Anyway, making the upstairs rooms off-limits had been my idea. An absolutely brilliant stroke of genius for a then nine-year-old girl. In one move, I’d ensured that no one would be up there when I went looking for the pull-up and that I would be safe from anyone following after me. I took quick glances in both directions as I stood at the base of the stairway. Perfect. There were no other kids in sight. I leaped up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time with each upward lunge until I was safely around the corner and out of sight. I encountered my first problem when I made it to the bedroom where Timothy and Alex had been sleeping. I had somehow assumed that the pull-up Alex had ripped off could be fixed. I seemed to recall that the pull-ups my brother had worn a year ago had Velcro sides. But that wasn’t the case with these bedwetting pull-ups for some reason. But there had to be additional pull-ups elsewhere. There couldn’t be any way that the boy’s parents would risk them peeing all over the bed while they were spending the night as guests. I didn’t have any luck in the first suitcase that I looked through, nor the second, but the third one was where I struck gold. There were more than a dozen pull-ups tucked into the side of the suitcase. Surely, they wouldn’t notice if one of them happened to go missing. I grabbed a pull-up and bundled the pull-up into a ball, tucking it into the waistband of my skirt. I was sure that was not nearly as discreet as I thought it was at the time. But, to my good fortune, I was able to make it to a nearby bathroom without being caught. The adults were busy downstairs, and my cousins, who were playing hide and seek, were doing a better job than I was at abiding by the rules. I locked the bathroom door behind me. I double and triple-checked to make sure the door was actually locked. I removed the pull-up from under my skirt and held it in my hands. I didn’t stop then to think through how bizarre the whole situation was at the time. I think I must have stood there looking at it for several minutes. Feeling how it crinkled beneath my touch, testing out the sides to see how far they could stretch, rubbing my fingers down the padded interior. I was completely and utterly fascinated by it. The desire was no more explainable than a moth being drawn to a flame, a kitten to catnip, or a raven to a shiny object. I cautiously slid my arms through the leg holes, stretching the pull-up out in front of me. Not only was it more than stretchy enough for me, but it could probably fit a kid twice as wide as I was. Now came the moment of truth. I removed my skirt and underwear. The pull-up had a side that was helpfully labeled as the back, so I knew which way to put it on. As I brought the pull-up into place around my waist, it was like sliding the final piece of a puzzle into place. I turned around so that I could look at my reflection in the mirror. I lifted up the front of my skirt so that the whole pull-up was in view. It practically came up all the way to my belly button. There was something about the way it hugged my sides, the way the soft padding pressed against my skin as I sat down on the toilet lid and the way it crinkled quietly as I paced across the bathroom that left me completely enamored. There was just one thing left to do. And I didn’t have much time before everyone noticed that I was missing. I lifted up the lid of the toilet seat and sat down while still wearing the pull-up. One of my deepest regrets was that I had went to go potty right before the game of hide and seek began, meaning there wasn’t anything waiting to come out of my bladder at the moment. I tried. I really did. I wanted to know. I had to know. What would it feel like to pee into a pull-up? It couldn’t be bad. Alex and Timothy hadn’t seemed to be put off at all by waking up in a wet pull-up every morning. But nothing happened. The timing was off. My bladder wouldn’t cooperate. And time was up. I needed to be out of the bathroom in a couple of minutes. I considered it a radical idea. What if I put my underwear and skirt over the top of the pull-up? I could continue to wear it until I actually needed to pee. I nearly did it. I really, truly, honestly nearly did it. But then I chickened out. The same way I would, time and time again for years afterward. It was too risky. A small trickle of shame was diluting my euphoria. I knew that despite how ecstatic I was at my discovery, the reality of anyone else discovering this secret — and the relentless shame and teasing that would follow — would be devastating. I wasn’t like Alex or Timothy. I didn’t have the veneer of bedwetting to hide behind as an excuse for wearing a pull-up. I slid the pull-up off of my legs. I intended to put it back in the suitcase. Then it would be like nothing had ever happened. That’s when I encountered a second problem. Apparently, I had gone potty in the pull-up after all. Not a lot, just the teensiest of tinkles. But it was enough to leave a tiny yellow patch the size of a quarter smack dab in the middle of the pull-up. I breathed a sigh of relief that I had even noticed it in the first place. That would have made for an awkward situation for Alex and Timothy had I put the pull-up back in the suitcase. I peered into the trash can. I was in luck. I could make out two pull-ups at the bottom of the small trash can. One had been turned inside out, the color of its interior leaving no doubt as to the truthfulness of Alex’s description of his and his brother’s bedwetting. I bunched up the pull-up and tossed it in the trash can. I didn’t think it was likely that anyone would be paying too much attention to notice the addition of one more pull-up in it. My curiosity sated, I returned to the game of hide and seek, pretending that I had been expertly moving in between hiding places to avoid being spotted. I didn’t think anymore about the pull-up until later that evening when we were lying in bed at the hotel. Jackson was little enough that he could sleep on a padded mat and sleeping bag on the floor while Grace and I shared a bed – an experience that hadn’t gone well the past couple of nights, as it had been interrupted by midnight accusation of blanket theft. If it had just been Grace and me in the room, if Mom, Dad, and Jackson hadn’t been around to overhear it, I might have worked up the courage to ask my older sister about her bedwetting. I wasn’t even sure if she knew that I knew about it. But I had to know. Had she worn the same pull-ups as Alex and Timothy? Was there perhaps a style that came in colors and designs for girls? But we weren’t alone, and those questions went unasked. The drive home wasn’t any easier. I didn’t touch my tablet, which had been my constant companion on the trip here. Instead, I stared out the window. But I wasn’t paying any attention to the passing cities and landscapes. Instead, my mind was replaying the events of the previous day, in particular, the few precious minutes when I had my hands on the pull-up. I was filled with a deep sense of longing and regret. Why had I thrown the pull-up in the trash? Why hadn’t I put it back on beneath my skirt? I would have had it with me now. I could have been wearing it now. Of course, I did know better. I would have had no issue wearing the pull-up out of the house, but once we had gotten to the hotel, there wouldn’t have been any realistic way for me to have kept it concealed. But the acknowledgment of that reality did nothing to lessen my longing for the pull-up. I had nothing but time as I began to scheme up all the different ways I could get my hands on another one, or better yet, an actual diaper. What would I have done if I had known the wait was to be measured in years rather than days, weeks, or months? --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/

Was watching a recent YouTube video from popular British YouTuber KSI and to my shock at about 4:02 a man attempts to make the judging panel laugh by dropping his trousers, revealing a Drynites pullup, getting on all fours and doing a baby voice with a dummy in his mouth: Have to say, the Drynites fit him very well and it was a bold choice to go for the girls style ones instead of boys. Wonder what made him choose those? Perhaps he’s an ABDL 😋

Hey everyone! As normal with me I've been away for a while but I wanted to scratch and urge to write some more stories! I'm not going to commit to a multi-part story right now but here's a short(ish) story that I hope everyone enjoys! As normal I'm using british-style language i.e. 'nappies' instead of 'diapers'. -------------- Coffee Date It was a bright, crisp Thursday morning in Brighton. The pebble beach was sparsely busy with dog walkers, couples and even the odd brave sea swimmer. A bit further in from the water, Ruby strolled down the promenade after parking her car in a nearby car park. She smiled as she looked down at the shimmering coast, with her hands firmly in the pockets of her cropped puffer jacket as she grasps her phone in the left pocket. She was eagerly awaiting her bi-weekly coffee date with her best friend Erin, something they'd promised each other they'd never miss after going their separate ways after college a year ago. Ruby had gone to university but had remained local, while Erin decided to go into work full-time. She'd dressed appropriately for her trip. Along with the puffer jacket, she opted for a suitably warm navy knitted sweatshirt along with some tight fleece-lined leggings that showed off her curves and spectacular bum and the look was finished with some brown Ugg boots. She approached the small, independent coffee shop, a favourite of hers and Erin's, and was glad to see their favourite spot in the window was vacant. Realising she was the first to arrive, she ordered herself a vanilla latte and Erin a breakfast tea, hung up her jacket on the coat stand near the front door, and took a seat in one of the two large light brown leather armchairs. She fluffed out her long brunette hair and checked her phone, but it wasn't long until she spotted her friend walking down the street towards the cafe. Erin was a tall, slender and very glamourous. Today she'd opted to tie up her curly ginger hair in a messy bun but didn't spare on the foundation and makeup. She wore a large, fluffy beige three-quarter fleece, some baggy oversized light blue denim jeans and some scruffy white Nike trainers. Ruby waved as she walked past and Erin's eyes lit up and she couldn't help but smile. "Hey you!" Ruby greeted as she stood up and opened her arms offering her friend a hug. "Hey girl, so lovely to see you!" Erin replied as she reciprocated and embraced in a warm hug. "I've ordered you a breakfast tea, do we want some pastries or anything?" Ruby asked as they both sat down and got comfy. "I'm all good I had some granola before I left, I'd rather chat to you than stuff my face to be honest" Erin replied with a chuckle. Both girls chatted away and told eachother all about their past few weeks. Ruby talked about all of the boring lectures she'd gone to and how hard she's been working on her dissertation, while Erin described, in great detail, her most troublesome customer interactions she'd had to endure during her hectic week at the upmarket clothing shop she worked at in nearby Eastbourne. If you were sat on a nearby table, you'd think they hadn't seen eachother in years let alone a few weeks, they just instantly fell into deep conversation and neither of them could stop smiling. "So" Erin said with a grin as she lifted her mug of tea up to her mouth, "how is Isaac?". Ruby knew the conversation would eventually lead to him, but it always did. Isaac and Ruby met in the first year of college and they instantly made a connection and fell in love, despite Erin's reservations about him. Isaac was a quiet and timid boy who didn't have many friends and kept to himself. By chance he'd been put in the same History class as Ruby and they ended up being paired together for a project on the Communist revolution in China and somehow that provided them with an opportunity to get to know each other and within a few weeks they were dating. Erin was, by her own admission, judgemental and thought Ruby could do much better such as one of the boys from the rugby team. However, Ruby grew very fond of Isaac and they've been together since. "He's okay thanks. We've really been making progress the past few weeks and I'm really happy. We've both come a long way in the past few months" Ruby explained, despite her blushing. "Well I'm happy for you I really am, and it's a real show of how much of an incredible person you are to stay with him, especially after all that stuff..." Erin replied before Ruby cut her off. "Shhhhh!" Ruby panicked as she put one finger in front of her mouth. "If you want to talk about... you know what, just keep your voice down okay?". "Sure sure don't worry, I know it's embarrassing I'll be the first person to tell you that!" Erin said with a teasing tone. Her hesitation to continue the conversation at full volume was warranted in her opinion. The events of the subject they were discussing began a few months ago and begun with a simple text message from one of Isaac's friend. Isaac was in the shower in his and Ruby's two bedroom flat in Worthing, which is just down the road from Brighton. He had shouted from the shower asking Ruby to check his phone and see if he'd had a text from his friend about some weekend plans and asked her to reply to him confirming. Ruby picked up the phone and unlocked it and thumbsed up the message (she knew his password as they were both very trusting), and as she was about to lock it she noticed he had a notification on Instagram. She would usually leave it but for whatever reason curiosity got the better of her and she opened the app without realising their relationship would never be the same again. "I'm happy to talk about it with you and you're the only person I've told, I just don't want the whole of Brighton to know about my boyfriends... unusual hobby" Ruby clarified. "Got you, is this volume okay?" Erin said as she lowered her voice slightly and scrunched her face cutely at her friend. "Much better, and to answer your question I love Isaac and he's genuinely my soulmate. I actually think were closer now than we've ever been!" Ruby said with a smile on her face. "Well I'm happy for you, and I bet Isaac is pleased getting the best of both worlds, he gets to keep his drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend, and also gets to wear... full time" Erin said. She didn't say the word, but mouthed it at Ruby instead to avoid embarrassing her. Ruby opened Instagram on Isaac's phone and was shocked and what she could see. It wasn't his standard Instagram profile, and could see he'd swapped profiles on his phone and clearly forgot to switch it back before locking his phone. The name of this profile was 'baby_iw_06' and had a few posts, all of which consistent of Isaac wearing what she assumed were adult sized nappies, as well as a few photos of the same man in a pair of Drynites pyjama pants, which she recognised from when she used to live at home with her little sister. Her face felt hot with shock and a tear began to form in her eyes as she dug further. She could see he had a few unread messages from other profiles, and while she didn't have the courage to open the conversations, she could tell by the message preview he was mid-conversation about wearing nappies. As Isaac entered the living room in his pyjamas and rubbing his stylish cropped blonde mullet dry with a towel, he immediately picked up on Ruby's emotions and put two and two together as she saw his unlocked phone in her hand. "He's very happy, and I'm so glad he is because he was really struggling before it all happened I could tell. Don't worry, you can say the word I don't mind, in fact it's become part of my basic vocabulary at this point!" Ruby chuckled. "So he's like full time wearing them now?" Erin asked inquisitively. "He is, and to be honest it's made life so much easier. It was getting really tedious having to swap between pants and nappies, going 24/7 is just so much more convenient. Although I've got to admit it's taken some adjustment" Ruby elaborated as her nerves cooled. It was such a help knowing she could talk to her best fried about it all. Isaac broke down in tears as soon as he was pressed by Ruby about his secret Instagram profile. She always knew he had a secret but had never been able to coax it out of him but now it was all out in the open. Opting to go down the supportive route, she held him and let him get his emotions out. He apologised over and over again and reassured her he wasn't cheating on her and she believed him. After a few minutes of tears everything calmed down as she asked him to explain everything. After some hesitation, Isaac began to explain he was an ABDL and nervously told Ruby all about it. He said he'd always had a fascination with wearing nappies and being regressed but never had the confidence to tell her about it, so he got out his urges by posting photos of himself online and chatting to other like-minded people. He apologised again for betraying her trust and promised to stop straight away. Ruby didn't know what to think and said she needed some space to think about everything and went back to stay with her parents for the following weekend. While she was there, she began to research what exactly an ABDL was. "Girl go you, I love that you've taken control! It must be a bit of a kick having total control over a man, kind of makes me jealous. Although don't get me wrong, changing a grown-ass man's nappy is not my cup of tea" Erin laughed as she sipped her drink. "You know it's not as bad as you think. We both make sure to strictly control diet and we're big on hygiene. It was one of my concrete requirements when I agreed to all this" Ruby clarified. "And not going to lie, I think he looks super cute when he walks around in one of his nappies around the house, or when he bends over in public and I can see his pullups poking out above his jeans". "He has always struck me as a twink and he certainly looks young for his age, but that's taking things to a whole new level!" Erin joked as they both laughed. On her return from her parents, the atmosphere was frosty and awkward as they ate dinner together. They both made small talk and both updated eachother on how their first few months of university were going. It continued for a few minutes before Ruby couldn't take it anymore and decided to tackle the subject with him head on. She said she'd done lots of research on ABDL and thought about their next steps and, much to Isaac's relief, she said she wasn't going to leave him. She explained she's still processing it all, but said it could be much worse and his interests aren't hurting anyone. Ruby admitted she is a bit hurt that he had been talking to strangers online about it, and finally revealed that she'd like to come an agreement with him. Isaac sat completely silent as Ruby laid out her cards on the table: her suggestion was that if he deleted his secret Instagram profile, she'd let him explore his desires around their flat. Isaac's eyes lit up and asked if she was absolutely sure and she said she was. They kissed and embraced and it was obvious a weight had been lifted off their shoulders. But what Ruby said next shocked, but secretly excited a still anxious Isaac. "Oh honestly Erin, you wouldn't believe how clean my bathroom is - no pubes or wee stains on the toilet seat, it's absolutely spotless!" Ruby joked as she adjusted in the armchair so her legs were crossed. "I can imagine! What about the baby stuff he likes?" Erin continued her interrogation. "It's not as important to him but it depends on his mood. Don't get me wrong when he's at home he likes to wear onesies if he can and he uses a dummy sometimes but not all the time. Nappies are much more important to him" Ruby replied. "But I'm not joking, he looks absolutely adorable in his onesie and puffy nappy while he's sat on the sofa watching football, especially since we've got rid of all the fluff on his legs". "Sounds like he's basically a big toddler, you two have come a long way haven't you! Don't mean to be cheeky but... you got any pics to show me?" Erin asked. Just before going back into their living room, Isaac looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing his light grey pyjama t-shirt and below that, just a blue Drynites pullup. He admired how well they fit him, and his modest 5ft 4in height and his slender build certainly helped. He was anxious about agreeing to show Ruby (at her request) but he knew this would be a step towards his fantasies. He stepped through the doorway and shyly walked towards Ruby, and much to his surprise she smiled. As he stood with his hands by his side and saw Ruby look him up and down, and as Ruby asked him to turn around he shuffled in his position. He was surprised to hear Ruby say that she's surprised how much they just look like normal pants and asked him if they are comfy, and he shyly chirped that they were. His anxiety was further alleviated as Ruby admitted she could get used to seeing him in them. Her next request shocked him even further. "Oh yeah sure, let me just turn my brightness down so no prying eyes see anything" Ruby grabbed her phone off the table between the armchairs and found a photo in her camera roll to show Erin. "So here's one I took sneakily while he was playing on his Playstation with his mates". Ruby passed her phone to Erin. In the photo, Isaac was sat on their plush grey sofa with his feet resting on a foot stool and his legs crossed. He has a headset with microphone on his head and was holding a Playstation controller and was clearly deep in conversation with his teammates. He was also wearing a onesie covered in cartoon dinosaurs with an orange round neck collar and cuffs, complete with a thick nappy underneath, peeking out from the leg holes of the onesie. "If only his friends knew what he was wearing! Love the dinosaur onesie too it suits him!" Erin said as she passed the phone back to Ruby. "Oh yeah that's one of his favourites he wears that all the time. Here's one of us doing some clothes shopping in Primark" Ruby said as she passed the phone back to her. This was a very different photo. Isaac was stood in the centre of the photo in the men's clothing section of a quiet Primark megastore. He had a playful shocked expression as he held up the hem of his white t-shirt and washed green oversized hoodie up just above his belly button, exposing the top of his blue pullup that peeked above the waist of his brown cargo trousers. "Believe it or not he wanted to take that photo!" Ruby added. "Ha ha I love it, he's getting brave! So correct me if I'm wrong he wears big nappies when he's at home and those Drynites bedwetting pants for teenagers when you're out in public?" Erin asked as she passed the phone back. "Yep that's the current arrangement, it's easier for him as they are more discreet and easier for me as I can put some spares in my handbag. He knows not to completely soak or fill them when we're out, although to tell you the truth his control over his bladder is definitely getting weaker" Ruby admitted. After a few minutes, Isaac returned to the living room and once again Ruby reacted positively. He was now wearing one of his favourite nappies, an ABU Little Kings, after Ruby requested to see him in a bigger nappy. She once again surveyed him by getting a 360 view, and he could tell she was getting more into it. Ruby then asked him to sit next to her on the sofa, and as he did with a crinkle she hugged him and told him she loved him, and said she thinks this might work. She added there would be some stipulations and requirements from her, but he couldn't contain his gratitude and excitement for what the future held. Together, they deleted his Instagram profile and she asked him honestly if he had any profiles on any other social media platforms, and he conceded he also had a Bluesky one and after deleting that she told him to get changed and they could chat more about what the new aspect of their relationship looked like. "Oh god of course I didn't think of that! What about at night?" Erin enquired. "He wears his thickest ones at night, and yeah he wakes up a bit damp most of the time. Depending on the day I'll wait until after breakfast to change him as he's fairly regular, if you know what I mean" Ruby winked at her friend. "Eww you can spare me the details about that, I'd rather not have to know about your boyfriends smelly arse!" Erin said as she jokingly wafted her hand infront of her nose. "Don't worry I won't!" Ruby said much to Erin's relief. "Oh is that the time, I've got a lecture in an hour or so I better be heading off" she said as she looked at the clock above the counter behind them. "No worries I completely lost track of time! Shall we do a Saturday date next time? Maybe do a bit of shopping too?" Erin suggested as she stood up and zipped up her fleece to just below her chin. "That sounds lovely babe, I need some summer clothes!" Ruby replied as she grabbed her puffer jacket. "Tell you what, bring Isaac along. It's been ages since I've seen him" Erin added. "You sure?" Ruby asked. "Yeah, plus I want to see if I can tell what he's wearing under his trousers" Erin joked as they both hugged. "Cheeky! I'm sure he'll be up for it he really likes you. Thanks so much for being so open about this, you're such a good mate" Ruby said with a warm smile. "No problem, that's what friends are for!" Erin reciprocated the warm exchange. They walked out of the cafe together and said their goodbyes before going their separate ways. As she walked back along the promenade she thought about how much she was looking forward to seeing Erin again, but that was interrupted by the vibration of her phone and as she pulled it out of her pocket she could see she was getting a call from Isaac. "Hey baby, what's up? No I'm not coming back straight away I've got a lecture and then I'll be back so maybe a few hours, why? Don't worry your nappy can hold more than that. Just try and hold it for a bit longer okay baby. I'll be back soon, love you" Ruby ended the conversation and noticed how fussy Isaac was becoming, but she honestly didn't mind, in fact she actually really loved it.

I’m not sure if I should be more excited or nervous! I’ve kept my Abdl feelings pushed down for a long time. It feels nice to see there are indeed others like me out there! Can’t wait to make my first padded friend!!

Howdy , im from the uk , i LOVE pullups especially the USA ones . Im attempting potty training .. and failing . if you love pullups too please say hi !

[Trigger Warning: Weight] Hey everybody, I'm new to this forum but eager to discuss Diaper and ABDL lifestyles with wider community. I've recently been enjoying the new Pampers EasyUps size 9 Diapers, they're the first Pampers product that I can wear unmodified out of the package, It's a tight fit but very snugged and Holds up quite well to a full wetting. I can't move as freely as I want to and need to avoid twisting my hips or bending my legs too fast but It's a snug comfortable fit none the less. I'm quite skinny and only 60kg which is a big factor though i do get slight tearing of the sides and the padding can come loose with a lot of wear but I've made it comfortably through the night without the sides tearing off evening after a solid wetting. I found also that if i intentionally tear the bottom few stitches of the side netting that the diaper becomes fair less constricting and I can move more freely while also staying snug and fit. I Previously acquired a full Pack of Modified Pampers BabyDry size 8 which were made spectacularly well, The sides where extended to the perfect proportions and the tabs were reinforced well. It was truly exactly what I wanted in a diaper throughout my many years as an AB/DL but unfortunately the seller went dark and I couldn't acquired any more, ever since that I've had to be sparing with my use of them and enjoying some quality diaper time became more of a rarity but these new Pampers EasyUps have changed all that. Today I'm polishing off the first pack of them I bought with two more to go after the one I have on, It's been about a month and a half since I got them in a pack of 19 (I really wish I bought the Jumbo pack) and I've enjoyed far more Diaper RnR since then, though I still use them sparingly since I'm a bit nervous to go to the store to get more as I always get nervous (what if someone I know spots me and what would i say?) but I do enjoy the subtle rush of it and I love these diapers far too much not to get more. I hope more people have tried them and that maybe we can compare notes on diapers. I am looking to get more involved with other AB/DLs so please don't hesitate to contact me.

Preface: writing my first coming of age story loosely based on my real experiences growing up as a bedwetter. Names and timeline are fictional or moved around for narrative purposes, but most of the story detail has some basis in my childhood. Chapter 1: Just in Case July, 2020 “Ryan, let’s go we’re going to be late!” yelled his father from the first floor of their suburban Chicagoland home. Recently -turned-9 year old Ryan Santos mentally prepared to groggily pull himself out of bed. It was 5am, and he and his family were slated to leave in an hour for his first major family vacation in over a year: a 6 hour drive to spend the weekend in St. Louis, Missouri. Originally, to celebrate his birthday, the family trip was to fly to the Philippines and reunite with extended family that Ryan’s parents had left almost a decade and a half prior. Due to the pandemic and subsequent travel restrictions, those plans were scrapped, but his mother Linda saw this as a perfect opportunity to visit the city of St. Louis, a place she had been enamored with since childhood during a trip to the states back in the 90s. The interstate travel restrictions were also easing up as lockdowns became less strict and social distancing became the norm. While not rich, Ryan was fairly well off as an only child in an upper middle class neighborhood. Both of parents worked in the medical field: his father, Jerry, worked in hospital administration and Linda worked as a nurse. With the pandemic, their workload went into overdrive, but they managed to carve out some free time over the weekend to go on this vacation and blow off some steam. Nonetheless, Jerry was often strict and regimented when it came to schedules, even on a vacation, sometimes adding tension to family outings in the past. Linda entered the bedroom and saw Ryan still in his red pajamas in bed, the covers halfway down to his legs. He shifted around in his sleep frequently, causing his shirt to roll up a few inches above his belly to reveal the blue waistband of his Goodnites, and he noticed his favorite Tigger stuffed animal was knocked on the ground and somehow made it into the crevice between his bed and nightstand. “Anak, you know how your father is, don’t make him ask twice please,” she said tactfully. “Okay, I’m getting up already,” Ryan replied as he got out of bed. He had been awake for about 25 minutes already, but had been dreading leaving the comfort of his bed. As he sat up, he noted the tension in his lower abdomen but thought nothing of it as he got to his knees on the floor and bent over to reach for his stuffed animal. His slender frame made it easy to get between his bed and the nightstand. Mid reach, he released his bladder and felt his already swollen Goodnites become warm again. His stream concluded as he stood up and faced his mother. Ryan had wet the bed every night his entire life, and despite recently turning 9, it showed no signs of stopping, despite his mother and doctor saying it would stop itself eventually. While he wouldn’t prefer to have this problem, it wasn’t a big deal to him or his immediate family; his nightly donning of protective undergarments was simply a normal part of life. None of his friends knew, and he preferred to keep it that way, often bowing out of invitations to sleepovers and overnight extracurriculars, though he would like to experience those one day. While he didn’t necessarily potty train late, he did achieve it with literal days prior to starting preschool, and even then he still had frequent accidents up through kindergarten. His frustrated father threatened to send him to school in diapers on multiple occasions but never followed through with it. By age 6, Ryan was in control of his body, save for the nightly accidents that were remedied by his mother’s weekly grocery run for Goodnites. Ever since he was little, he had made a habit of using his Goodnites while still awake, both before and after bedtime, something that his mom called him out on occasionally, but usually wouldn’t notice. While embarrassed, Ryan would internally justify it as they would be wet either way, might as well use them for the intended purpose. “Get ready soon! We’re trying to leave in the next 30 minutes, we’re putting the maleta in the van soon,” Linda said with her usual hint of Filipino accent mixed with Taglish. He obeyed by making his way to the bathroom down the hall to brush his teeth and prepare for the day. He pulled down his pants and pulled down his heavy, soggy Goodnite and placed it in the trash bin with a thud. He got dressed with a souvenir shirt with the Canadian maple leaf logo and put on some normal underwear and sweat pants before meeting his mom at the foyer of his house, Tigger in hand. His mother had packed most of the family’s clothes and belongings into one massive leather suitcase that she had brought when they first immigrated to America. She prided herself in fitting a family vacation’s worth of clothes into one bag, even if it was only for a weekend. She asked her son a question as he placed his stuffed animal in the suitcase, taking inventory of toiletries before zipping it up. “How many pull ups do you have left in the bathroom?” “I dunno, like 3 left I think? They’re already in the bag,” he answered as he noted 3 Goodnites already zipped up in a mesh compartment. “Go get them,” she ordered. “What? Why? Isn’t this enough for the weekend trip?” “Just bring them,” she said bluntly. “Just in case.” “Okay,” Ryan said with a shrug as he ran up to the bathroom upstairs. Not sure what that’s supposed to mean, he thought as he got the got the last 3 from the pack and threw the plastic package wrap in the trash. He walked down the stairs and handed the Goodnites to his mother, who zipped them up in the mesh pocket with the other toiletries. After doing a final check, she zipped up the suitcase and had Ryan load it into the back of their silver Honda Odyssey. “Make sure the top is easy to access,” she specified as he loaded it into the trunk. Ryan proceeded to hop in the back seat with the snack bag, and enjoyed the Nesquik chocolate milk he traditionally had in a travel mug. His father started the van and typed in the address of the fancy hotel on the Illinois side of the Mississippi River that they would be staying at. His mom entered the car, checking the glove compartment to make sure their emergency supply of medical masks was still there after they became mandatory in most public establishments. Jerry looked back at his son as he backed out of the driveway and turned to Linda. “Is he wearing his nappies?” He asked her not so subtly. Ryan cringed internally; he hated when his dad called them that, not that the term “diapers” was much better. He considered the term infantilizing, even if the term reflected how his parents grew up overseas using different lingo. He appreciated that his mom simply called them pull ups, but the mere mention of them in general outside the house always made him a little self conscious. He knew why his dad was asking: while he never had to wear them on car trips before, the idea was always floated after multiple close calls in past road trips that resulted in emergency bathroom runs to gas stations, restaurants, and rest stops for Ryan to relieve himself, further delaying their trip. Deep down, Ryan almost wanted to wear them for that specific reason, but quickly pushed the idea out of his head as the embarrassment was too much. He had always been insecure about his weak bladder, but he hated it most when his parents brought it up in casual conversations. “No, he’s not,” Linda answered with a hint of annoyance. “Not yet.” Yet? Ryan thought as he downed the last of his chocolate milk. He didn’t think much of it as he looked out the window and saw his suburb turn into countryside as his family began their drive south. Within about 30 minutes, the familiar tension in his lower torso appeared, causing Ryan to dread that he still had over 5 hours left of the trip. Chapter 2: Not quite a bathroom break “What is it, Ryan?” Jerry said with a hint of frustration as he noticed his son squirming in his seat as he looked into the rearview mirror. “Um…” Ryan stammered as he dreaded asking the next question. “I… have to go to the bathroom.” Jerry clicked his mouth and sighed angrily. They had been on the road for a little over 45 minutes and had successfully beat the traffic rush to the interstate by leaving early, but stopping now would negate that progress. “Sorry,” Ryan added sheepishly. “You should have gone before we left!” His father said as they continued driving. “Please?” The young boy squeaked as he felt the tension worsening. He noted that he technically did relieve himself just before they left right after he woke up, just not necessarily in the bathroom. “Why do you always do this?” Jerry said with an eye roll. “Jerry!” Linda said with a slight scowl to her spouse. “We’ll try to stop soon honey, just hang in there.” “Okay,” Ryan said as he felt a bead of sweat form. His mother looked up and saw that a rest stop was only 2 miles ahead, but her hopes were soon dashed as a “REST STOP CLOSED” sticker was placed on the sign, a further indication of the majority of public rest stops being shut down due to the pandemic. The following sign saying that the next rest stop wouldn’t be up for another 45 miles didn’t help. Another 5 minutes went by as Ryan continued to squirm, trying to distract himself with the near featureless midwestern countryside. “There!” Linda said as she noted an exit sign saying there was a Shell gas station and an old diner a couple miles ahead. “We could use a top off on the gas anyway,” she remarked, despite the tank being 3/4 full. Reluctantly, Jerry shifted into the right lane and proceeded to take the exit ramp when it came up. After about a mile, they pulled into the parking lot of the gas station and Jerry exited the van to pay at the gas pump, only to get a notification “SEE CASHIER INSIDE” as he swiped his card. Annoyed, he grabbed a mask from the glove box and headed inside the store, noticing a line of other masked people standing 6 feet apart who were already pulled up at other pumps. Ryan quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and prepared to open the van sliding door when his mother stopped him. “Honey,” she said sweetly. Ryan turned to her with desperation on his face as he wondered what was so important that his mom had to say. “I know this is going to sound strange, but I don’t want you using the bathroom here.” “What?” Ryan said in disbelief. “What do you mean?” “Your father and I talked about it last night: we really don’t trust the public bathrooms out here, especially on the interstate. There’s so many people who might be sick using those bathrooms who probably don’t wash their hands, and they could be spreading Covid.” “But the sign right there says they deep clean and disinfect it every hour!” He replied as he pointed to one of the signs at the gas station window. “I know it says that honey, but you never can trust those. Plus, you might run into a whole lot of people from all over the country who might have Covid but they’re asymptomatic and are just spreading it to everyone. You don’t want to get sick like you did last Christmas, do you?” Ryan thought back to this past winter where he spent the majority of his Christmas break bedridden and battling a fever, taking the fun of the holidays away in the process. He couldn’t really argue with his mom, as he knew he had a history of a weak immune system, and he over heard his parents the past few months constantly lamenting about the overwhelming amount of the horrifically ill patients they saw everyday in the hospitals they worked at. Ryan sighed as he struggled to keep composure at the mounting pressure in his bladder. “What do you want me to do? Go in the grass by the parking lot like a dog where everyone can see me?” “No, not that…” his mother tried to think of a way to bring it up delicately. “Your father and I were thinking the easiest and safest way for you to go to the bathroom would be if you went to the maleta…” Ryan blinked nervously as he started to realize what his mother was suggesting. “…and put on one of your pull ups… and used those.” Ryan wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The notion of it was so deathly embarrassing, but he also considered running to the gas station bathroom, which on the other hand, might actually result in him catching Covid and ending up as another pandemic statistic at a hospital. “You can put them on in the van so it’s a little more private. Even if you have to go number 2, I can help you clean up,” she concluded. “Mom!” He snapped. “I don’t have to go number 2.” He thought about making a break for the bathroom, then ultimately decided against it after realizing he’d likely get an earful from his dad later for disobeying his mother. He looked around the gas station parking lot and saw other families with kids walking around: some his age, some older, some younger. It’s not like I’ll see these kids ever again anyway, he thought. “Fine,” he said defeated. “I’ll be right back,” his mother said sweetly as she exited the front passenger seat and made her way to the trunk of the Odyssey. She unzipped the suitcase and pulled out one of Ryan’s Goodnites, as well as a package of Pampers baby wipes as Ryan hid in the backseat and crouched down to try to stay clear of the windows, mortified if one of the other kids saw his mom with his pull-ups in hand. She opened the sliding door and handed him the pull up, which he reluctantly grabbed and popped back behind the seat as he closed the door. His hands began shaking as his desperation reached a breaking point, making his fine motor skills jerky as he took his shoes off and quickly pulled his pants and briefs down. He crouched extra low as he opened up the Goodnite and slipped it on, barely in time as he began to relieve himself with an audible hiss. Ryan breathed a relieved sigh as he felt the familiar sensation of his pull up filling with the warm liquid and causing it to expand. He figured it felt different than the other times he had gone on purpose either just before bed or after waking up, probably because his mother had not only given him explicit permission, but encouragement to do so. After about a minute, Ryan finished, noticing how heavy it sagged and swole up. While it did feel very toddler like, it wasn’t as bad or embarrassing as he thought it would be. He began to get up from his crouching position on the floor by the back seat when his mom pulled open the side door. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you were in the very back row,” she exclaimed as the pantsless Ryan had his wet pull up on full display. He prayed the group of kids playing in the grass about 50 feet away didn’t see him in this state. Ryan jumped in the back row of seats where he was relatively out of view of the open door. “Are you done?” “Yes,” he answered his mother quickly. “Are you sure?” “YES!” He said annoyed. “Just making sure,” she said nonchalantly. She held up the package of baby wipes. “You got this?” “Yes mom,” he said as he grabbed the pack. “Can you please close the door?” Without another word, Linda shut the sliding door and Ryan crouched down in the back most seat row. He shimmied off the Goodnite as it made an audible plop on the floor of the van. He did a quick once over with the baby wipe before putting his underwear and pants back on, followed by his shoes. Soon, his mom opened the sliding door again. “All good?” “Yes,” Ryan answered quietly. She looked down at the wet pull up on the floor of the car. “Do you want me to throw that away for you?” Ryan hesitated, not sure if his mom holding his waste was more embarrassing or if he would rather take care of it himself. Eventually, he made a decision. “Can you take it please?” He asked, too ashamed to leave the perceived safety of the van. “Of course,” Linda said with a smile to try to cheer her son up. She rolled up the wet pull up, reminding her of the times when Ryan was a toddler. Noticing the trash can next to the gas pump was full, she began to walk towards the edge of the parking lot by the grass. Ryan began to turn red as he realized she was going to throw it away in the trash can right in front of where the other kids his age were running and playing. She promptly threw it away and proceeded to rub her hands with hand sanitizer as she walked back to the van. Opening the front passenger door, she noticed Ryan staring out the opposite window, still as red as an apple, trying to watch the other cars at the gas station to take his mind off his embarrassing ordeal. “You okay, anak?” She asked. “I’m great, just great,” he mumbled as he saw a mother exit a pick up truck with her toddler age daughter in her arms. She proceeded to lay her down on a mat on the tailgate of the truck, lifted her skirt up, and proceeded to change her diaper. In a way, Ryan almost envied how unashamed and not self conscious the little girl was and how her situation just mirrored his own. Soon, Jerry returned from the cashier line and proceeded to fill the car up quickly. He sat back in the driver seat and began to drive back onto the country road leading to the interstate. “Did he go?” He asked his wife over some country music playing on the radio. Ryan could still hear the conversation. “Yes, he did. Took him a minute, but he did.” “Is he wearing one now? I don’t want to make stops every 45 minutes or we’ll be on the road all day.” “No, he’s not. He’s still warming up to it,” she defended. “He’s done with his chocolate milk so he probably won’t have to go for a while now that he has nothing else to drink.” Jerry visibly wasn’t very happy with the answer. “I’ll have him put one on next stop,” she relented. Chapter 3: Traffic Overflow Author’s Note: we’re 3 chapters in and I just realized I should probably provide translations of the infrequent Tagalog vocabulary used: - Anak = child - Maleta= suitcase - Sige na: an expression that loosely translates to “come on” I’ll probably post these as needed for each chapter. Back to the story: The next couple hours of the trip went by fairly uneventfully as the Santos family made their way through central Illinois. Ryan had his sketchbook and colored pencils to keep him entertained by drawing custom Mandalorian armor and other Star Wars characters, while making sure to bring his liquid intake to practically zero so as to not repeat his experience at the gas station. His parents listened to podcasts and audiobooks to pass the time, noting that they were approaching lunchtime and were due to reach the historic state capital of Springfield in less than half an hour. It was a particularly hot summer day, and Linda began to notice that Ryan had not drank anything since the chocolate milk he had this morning. “Ryan, Anak, are you thirsty? Why don’t you have some water or Gatorade?” “I’m good, thanks mom,” Ryan fibbed. He was definitely a little parched after not drinking anything the past couple of hours. “Sige na! It’s all there in the cooler, we’re only about 15 minutes away from getting lunch.” “Okay, I guess,” he acquiesced. Ryan grabbed a red Gatorade and took a sip, which quickly turned into him chugging half the bottle after realizing how thirsty he was. Soon, they reached Springfield, and pulled off the exit to streets adorned with Abraham Lincoln tributes and paraphernalia. They reached a McDonald’s and pulled into the parking lot, stretching their legs and preparing to enter the restaurant. “I’m going to the bathroom if you want to watch the car,” Jerry said as he went inside after giving his wife a kiss. “Okay! I’ll go when you come back and then we’ll hit the drive through,” She responded as she walked to the opened back of the van. “Can I go too?” Ryan asked. “You need to already?” Linda asked as she began to open the giant suitcase. Before she could open the toiletries pocket, Ryan interjected when he realized what she was doing. “No, wait! I mean, can’t I go in the restaurant with dad and use their bathroom?” “Honey, we went over this,” his mom answered with a tone of empathy. “How come you and dad can go use the bathroom there and I can’t? Aren’t you afraid of getting sick?” He protested. “Oh it’s different. Your dad and I work at the hospital, and we’ve already been exposed to Covid, and even if we do get sick, it wouldn’t hit us as hard as it would you. You know how easy it is for you to get sick- you miss a week of school almost every year from the flu with your immune system issues,” his mom explained. “I guess,” Ryan sighed in defeat. He was notorious at school for getting sick easily, sometimes getting picked on when he would return to class, and despite getting fairly high grades, he often felt like he was playing catch up on class work to make up the difference. When he got sick, it almost always hit hard. “Do you still need to go?” Linda asked as took a pull up out. “No I’m good,” he replied. “You sure?” “Yes I can hold it!” Ryan insisted. “Okay,” she said somewhat defensively. Instead of putting the pull up back, Ryan noticed she put it in her purse along with the wipes. Jerry soon returned and traded spots with Linda, and they shortly all were back in the van and in line for the drive through. Eating out was a special treat for Ryan as his parents were both into eating home cooked healthy food the majority of the year. Ryan could count on one hand how many times he’s had McDonald’s the past couple years, with the most recent being his 9th birthday, where in a rare show of affection, his dad treated him to his first Big Mac instead of the kids menu he would typically get in the past. After ordering and receiving their food, the family pulled into the parking lot and ate in the van together, another social distancing precaution that was all too familiar as they travelled in the pandemic. Ryan was the first to finish his Big Mac meal, quickly devouring the burger and guzzling the orange Hi-C drink. Fully satisfied but unaccustomed to the greasy meal, he began to grow lethargic, letting out a long yawn as his parents finished their food. Linda noticed this and saw an opportunity before they hit the road. “Why don’t you take a nap, sleepy head?” She asked. “It’s the last leg of the trip, we’re only about 2 hours away from the hotel, and I know you’ve been up since before the sunrise.” “Yeah, I guess I will,” Ryan answered as he stifled another yawn. He saw his mother dig into her purse and take out the pull up. He was already expecting this and didn’t mind as he’d already worn one on car trips in the past when he was asleep, which was usually only the first leg. Now, it was a little strange since his mom was insisting on him wearing one the entirety of the trip. “You sure you don’t need to go before we leave? It’ll be easier to change if we’re stopped instead of sitting in a wet one the remainder of the trip. If you can hold it, you can use the bathroom at our hotel room- I’ll make sure to deep clean and disinfect it before any of us use it… but your father and I both think it’s best if you wear one now.” “I’ll put it on now since I want to sleep,” Ryan relented as he grabbed the pull up from his mother, “but I don’t need to go right now.” “That’s a first,” Jerry mumbled. Linda shot him a mean look and turned back to her son. “Thanks so much for making things easier anak! We’ll get whatever you want for dinner at the hotel when we get there.” Ryan moved to the back most seat for privacy as he put the pull up on. His parents patiently scrolled through their phones as he finished up getting dressed and hopped back in his seat. They continued on with their journey as they left Springfield and merged back onto the interstate, but for the first 20 minutes Ryan struggled to fall asleep as the all too familiar urge hit his bladder once again. He shifted his position in his seat to ease the pressure on his lower body, and contemplated asking his parents to use the restroom once again, only to remember what he was wearing. Instead, Ryan relaxed and proceeded to wet a moderate amount in his pull up, barely causing it to swell between his legs. Now at ease and comfortable, Ryan was able to drift off to sleep within 5 minutes. After what felt like only about 30 minutes, Ryan awoke to notice that they were stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. He checked the clock and realized he was out for a little over 2 hours, especially evidenced by the fact he noticed his pull up was significantly more full than what it was when he drifted off to sleep. “Where are we? Are we almost to the hotel?” He asked after a yawn. “We’re in Belleville,” his dad answered. “And we were 8 minutes away from the hotel according to the GPS, but that was 45 minutes ago before we ran into traffic.” “Looks like there’s a car accident about half a mile ahead,” his mom added. “We should be getting out soon though.” Ryan groaned. He was ready for the road-trip to be over. He felt another urge to pee hit his bladder, which he let loose almost immediately. Definitely feeling that large Hi-C and Gatorade, he thought, and for once was thankful he was wearing Goodnites in situations like this. “Ugh this traffic needs to ease up soon, I need to get out of this car,” Linda remarked as she sipped the last of her water bottle and turned up the A/C. She noticed how much her husband was sweating and offered him a water bottle from the cooler, to which he enthusiastically accepted. She got a second one and gave handed it towards Ryan. “Anak, drink this! I don’t need you getting heat stroke. I’m not taking no for an answer.” Ryan obeyed without question and quickly drank the water bottle until it was empty. He wanted out of this traffic jam just as much if not more than his mom. After another 20 minutes, he released another quick stream into his pull up almost absent-mindedly. Another half hour of traffic passed, where Ryan zoned out, too hot and bored to continue his drawings, when he thoughtlessly let out another steady trickle, when he felt a warm liquid run down his pant leg, causing him to stop mid stream. Oh no, he thought as he snapped back to his current reality. He lifted open the front of his waistband to view the front of his pull up, which had become visibly over saturated. He lifted up his leg and felt the seat of his pants and noticed it was slightly damp, and not from sweat. “Um… mom?” “Yes, anak?” “I kind of… have to go to the bathroom.” “Just use your pull up, honey. It’s okay.” “Um, I can’t,” Ryan said awkwardly. “What do you mean you can’t?” His dad asked. Linda turned around in her seat to face her son. “I’m kind of… wet,” Ryan mumbled, trying to avoid eye contact with his mother who now realized his predicament. “What do you- “ , Jerry glanced back and groaned. “That better not have gotten on the seat.” “Jerry!” Linda exclaimed. “I’m sorry,” Ryan mumbled in embarrassment. “It’s okay Anak, it’s not your fault. We just need to be more careful with the juice in the future,” consoled his mom. She reached into her purse and realized she had already given him the pull up she packed earlier. “Do you think I have time to get to the maleta?” “Traffic’s finally starting to move, we’re less than 10 minutes out from the hotel. He can wait,” Jerry said. “Sorry honey, do you think you can hold out for a little longer?” “I- I think so,” Ryan said, still needing to empty the rest of his bladder. Sure enough, traffic on the interstate began to accelerate after passing the scene of a multi car pile up. Thankfully no one appeared to be injured, though the spread of debris and the number of cars involved definitely accounted for the lengthy delay. Within a few minutes, the van arrived at the Snowden hotel, a small but fancy hotel located between the town and a stone’s throw from St. Louis. Jerry parked the van and put on a mask as he rushed inside to check in. Linda exited the car to stretch her legs, and Ryan got out of his seat, but stopped short of exiting the van out of fear that someone would see his wet pants. After what felt like an eternity, Jerry came back with the key cards while Linda escorted Ryan inside, power walking through the hotel corridors to get to their room. By this point, Ryan was hobbling from left to right, feeling like he was about to burst. Instinctively, he covered his groin area and quickly let go after feeling the dampness seep out through his pull up and onto his sweatpants. His mother was finally able to swipe the door open with the key card, causing Ryan to almost push his way into the hotel room and make a beeline for the bathroom. “Wait!” His mom interjected, causing Ryan to stop dead in his tracks with a look of dejection on his face. “What now?” He asked as Linda reached into her purse. She pulled out an aerosol spray and disinfectant wipes and stepped towards the bathroom. “Let me clean it first, you never know if they wiped down all the surfaces for Covid,” his mother stated as she spent the next 2 minutes doing a quick clean of the toilet, countertop, shower, and sink. Unfortunately for Ryan, it was 2 minutes too long as he accidentally let out another jet of urine into his pull up. This time, he crouched down to try to get the pool of it to absorb in the back as it was significantly less saturated than the front. After relieving most of the pressure, he was able to hold it. “Okay, you’re good,” she said as she stepped out. With a dejected lesser urgency, Ryan pulled his wet pants and pull up down with a thud and tried to pee, but could only let out a weak stream that lasted no more than a couple seconds. He covered his mouth and nose as he dropped his soaked pull up into the trash can under the sink. Ryan noticed the bottom edge of his shirt had also been slightly wet and proceeded to take that off before stepping into the shower. While he was in the bathroom, his dad entered the hotel room with the giant suitcase. After giving him a few minutes in the shower, Linda cracked the bathroom door open and left a fresh change of clothes, including normal underwear, on the countertop for her son. As he wrapped up his shower, Ryan pondered on the day, noting that while being in wet clothes for several minutes was uncomfortable, he was at least thankful his pull up was able to hold up for at least the first couple of hours of the final leg of the trip. He thought about how careless he was chugging all that water, juice, and Gatorade in such a short span of time; no wonder he was able to flood it towards the end. It wasn’t my fault, he thought. Mom said so. Ryan put on his fresh set of clothes, consisting of basketball shorts and a Spider-Man shirt, but most of all appreciating the feeling of dry underwear. His parents followed suit, spending the next hour freshening up in the shower and changing into new outfits to go out for dinner. As he waited, Ryan turned the TV on to the classic SpongeBob episode “Grandma’s kisses.” As if the universe was taunting him, an ad for Pampers Baby Dry diapers played during the commercial break, boasting about its superior absorbency compared to competitor brands. Honestly could’ve used that earlier, he thought as his dad entered the bathroom as his mom exited. Before long, Ryan and his parents made their way to the lobby where the renowned hotel restaurant was. Much to everyone’s chagrin, instead of a hostess, the family encountered a “closed” sign, followed by the reduced hours of the hotel restaurant due to Covid mitigations. “You’ve got to be kidding me! It’s barely dinner time! What were we supposed to do? Eat dinner at 3 in the afternoon?” Jerry complained to the front desk. “I’m sorry sir, we had to close early due to state mandates. Unfortunately, most, if not all, of the other restaurants in the area are closed now as well. If we can make it up to you and your family, there are grab and go prepared meals that are available at the mini convenience store around the corner down the hallway,” said the short blonde desk attendant. Too tired from the trip to make another argument, Jerry yielded. “I suppose since it’s complimentary,” he mumbled. “Excellent! There’s a self checkout at the stand, but if you charge it to your room number, I’ll make sure to take it off the bill for you,” she said in her most cheerful customer service voice. Jerry thanked her and proceeded to direct his family to the mini store. He and Linda both got salads, with Ryan taking a ham and turkey sandwich. The family brought their food up to their room, eating quickly as everyone was ready for an early night of sleep, eager to end this draining day. What a way to start this weekend, Ryan thought as he put on his pajamas and once again pulled on one of his Goodnites. Soon, he drifted off to sleep, hoping the next day would be better. Chapter 4: Arches and Shortages Ryan felt as if he was in a daze, dizzy and not quite coherent as he laid in bed. The room was still dark, save for the orange light of the street lamp outside his window, and his vision was hazy as if he were in a half dream like state. The sensation of his equilibrium being thrown off and the room spinning made him close his eyes silently and groan. His lower half of his body felt warm, and an odd, pungent scent filled the air. Suddenly, he felt as if his blanket was being pulled away, and he blindly began feeling around for it, only to feel his Tigger plush move into his reach, to which he grabbed the stuffed animal and hugged it to his face. He began to stir a little as he felt the sensation of his pajama pants being pulled off. “It’s okay Anak,” the familiar voice of his mother said softly. His head continued to pound as he felt the sides of his pull up being ripped open and his ankles held together and raised as the cool sensation of a wet wipe radiated around his lower body. After a couple minutes of the cool air and wiping sensation, he heard the telltale crinkling of one of his Goodnites being opened up, and he felt the elastic and padding make its way up his legs and onto his hips. The strong smell went away, and Ryan turned onto his side and drifted into a deep sleep once again. Rays of the morning sun shined through the hotel window and greeted Ryan’s face, causing him to wake up and realize he was in the hotel bedroom. He rubbed his eyes and immediately noticed something was amiss. Not only did he still feel a little dizzy, but he sat up in his bed and pulled the covers down to show that he was no longer wearing his pajama pants, and beyond that, his typical wet pull up felt… different. He pivoted out of bed, and the moment he stood up, the strange smell from last night hit him as he felt a semi-solid mass on the seat of his pull up, causing him to glance down at his nighttime underwear and spread his legs for a better angle to confirm his suspicion. I can’t believe I just did that, he thought. He turned to the other queen bed in the room and noticed both his parents were gone, but his mother stepped out of the bathroom in her bathrobe and wished her son a good morning. “Ummm… mom?” “Yes honey?” She noticed the distraught look on his face. “Are you okay?” “Please don’t be mad… but I think I…” Ryan could barely get his words out. “Did you poop?” She asked bluntly. “Ummm… yeah, I think so,” Ryan answered sheepishly . His mom walked up to him and immediately pulled the rear waistband of his Goodnites open for a quick peak. “Yep, you definitely did again,” she said nonchalantly. “Again?” He said. That wasn’t a dream? Linda grabbed the baby wipes that were sitting atop the nearby dresser, and before Ryan could react, she pulled down his Goodnites and began to clean the mess off of his bottom as he stood there, too unsure of how to act at the abruptness of his mom. He caught a quick glance of the mostly mostly liquid waste at the seat of his full pull up, and became disgusted at what his body had produced. “It’s not your fault, Anak. The hotel sold us expired food. We should’ve read the expiration dates on the packages before we ate. Thankfully I was okay, but your dad was throwing up all morning. He’s complaining to the manager at the front desk right now. We’re not staying the weekend here; we’re actually planning to just head home today, but we will do a quick visit to the Arch so it’s not a wasted trip,” she explained. “Okay,” Ryan replied as his mother continued to wipe his rear end like a toddler. “Can we at least close the curtains?” “Oh don’t worry Anak, we’re on the second floor. Don’t be embarrassed, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to clean you up like this,” she responded matter-of-factly. She finished wiping and put the soiled pull up and baby wipes in a plastic grocery bag and tied it up before throwing it in the hotel trash bin. “Go hop in the shower! I’ll have your clothes ready on the bed. Your dad should be almost done checking out and we can finish packing the maleta so we can go see the Arch.” Ryan quickly hopped in the shower, ruminating about his situation. That was embarrassing, he thought. You literally just crapped your pants like a toddler, and not only that, mom cleaned me up like one too… but she said it’s not my fault… it was the food! The McDonald’s from yesterday probably didn’t help either. Yeah, that’s it. It was a one off thing. Definitely a one off thing. He finished his shower and dried off, wrapping his towel around his waist as he headed towards the bed to grab the clothes his mom provided. Ryan’s eyes froze as he immediately noticed that on top of his folded Star Wars shirt and khaki cargo pants was one of his Goodnites. He turned to the giant suitcase on the floor and saw his mom zip it shut as she finished packing. “Mom, do I really have to wear one out again?” “Yes, honey, don’t you remember what we talked about yesterday? We don’t want you getting sick from the bathrooms at the Arch. Plus, we’re planning on hitting the road immediately after so we can get home before it gets too dark,” she explained. “Also… since the food last night made you sick, I’d rather you wear one in case you… have an accident again.” “But I feel fine mom!” Ryan fibbed. He did still feel a little woozy, but not as bad as last night. “And it only happened once!” “Twice,” Linda corrected. “I think you were asleep when I changed you for the first time.” “But mom,” he whined. “I don’t want to argue, Ryan,” she raised her voice slightly, her son getting the hint that she wouldn’t change her mind. “I don’t want to deal with your poopy underwear if we can avoid it.” “Fine, okay,” Ryan said curtly as he turned red. A knock at the door announced that housekeeping had arrived, to which Linda responded for the maid to come in. This took Ryan off guard as he held his towel tightly to his body as the housekeeper made her way in. She did a quick inspection of the state of the room when her nose visibly twitched under her face mask, to which she immediately made her way to the trash bin containing Ryan’s soiled Goodnites. Without a word, she made her way to the trash and replaced the liner. As she passed, Ryan darted to the bed with his clothes and pull up and held it close to his body. He swiftly made his way to the bathroom to change in privacy, starting with begrudgingly putting on his pull up. Within a couple of minutes, the housekeeper was out of the room, and Linda began getting dressed for the day. Jerry finally arrived back and took the giant suit case and smaller bags back to the car. He returned to the room just as Linda finished up and Ryan exited the bathroom. “Ready to go?” His father said enthusiastically, eager to conclude this snafu of a vacation. “Yep!” Ryan said. “I’ll pull the van up to the front,” he said as he grabbed the keys. “We’ll meet you down there in a second,” his wife responded. She turned to Ryan as Jerry left the room. “Are your pull ups on?” “I have them on,” he grumbled, avoiding her gaze. “Let me check,” she said as she tugged at his shorts waistband to see the telltale top of his pull up. “Good! Why don’t you try going potty one last time? It might be a while until we find another that’s clean and safe.” “Fine,” Ryan said quietly as he entered the bathroom. The way she said “try going potty” not too long after cleaning up his messy pull up really irked him, as if his mother was going out of her way to baby him. He managed to let out a quick stream and finished up in the bathroom after washing his hands. He accompanied his mother to the lobby where the family van was waiting outside. Before long, the family was on their way to St. Louis. Within a few minutes, they crossed into Missouri and were at the base of the famous Arch. Linda turned to Ryan as they prepared to exit the car. “How’s your stomach, Anak?” “Better,” he answered, though it did still feel noticeably bubbly, but not enough for him to be concerned. “Good! Do you think you can handle a banana? I don’t want to give you something to upset it, but I don’t want you walking around on an empty stomach either,” she said, handing him the fruit from the snack bag. “I guess,” Ryan said as he grabbed the banana and began to peel it. His appetite was barely there, but he didn’t want to fight his mother on it as he finished the fruit. “Alright, let’s get to the top of this arch,” Jerry said as he led his family towards the museum entrance at the base. Ryan looked up in awe at the Arch, distracted as he walked behind his parents. Jerry turned to Linda. “Is he wearing his nappies?” “Yes, I made sure,” she confirmed. “As much as I don’t want to deal with dirty diapers.” “It’s better than throwing out dirty clothes,” Jerry remarked. Soon, they fell in line for tickets to access the museum and the arch itself. Ryan started feeling pressure in his bladder, but rather than bother his parents about it, he simply went in his pull up. When they got their tickets, the Santos family perused the museum, reading displays depicting the story of Lewis and Clark and their expedition with Sacajawea. They fell in line to access the elevator to get to the top of the Arch, which was moving slower than usual due to limitations on the number of people they’d allow to go to the top as a Covid precaution. While Jerry was distracted checking social media on his phone, Linda whispered to Ryan. “How’s your pull up?” “It’s fine,” he answered. Ryan quickly shifted around, making sure no one else was able to hear. “Did you pee?” “Only a little,” he blushed. Linda looked over his shoulder and not so subtly pulled back the rear waistband of his pull up. Ryan quickly pulled his shirt down to cover it. “No accidents, that’s good,” she stood back up, satisfied. “I’m glad your tummy is feeling better.” Ryan chose not to acknowledge, feeling like he was about to die from embarrassment, even though no one else in line seemed to have noticed. He quickly forgot about it as they finally made it through the line and entered the pod shaped elevator to reach the top of the Arch. The ride up the curve was fun, but Ryan couldn’t help but feel a little nauseous as it went up at a strange angle, making his stomach feel even more off. Soon, they reached the top, and immediately Ryan was in awe of seeing the city from the top of such strange architecture. With the way the windows were designed, he had to jump up with his petite Filipino frame and bend over to get a good view, inadvertently exposing the back of his pull up as it rose out of the back of his shorts like a tail. Linda considered telling Ryan, but he didn’t want to interrupt his childish wonder of the bird’s eye view of St. Louis. That, and she thought it looked kind of cute. After a few minutes, Jerry began to lead his wife and son back to elevator so they could get on the road. As soon as the elevator ride down began, Ryan’s stomach began to feel pressure. He held it, not wanting to stink up such a tight space, even if it was just gas. The swaying of the elevator pod also began to aggravate his nausea, and by the time it reached the base floor, he dashed out to catch his breath, putting his hands on his knees and slouching over. His mom and dad caught up to him, concerned. “Are you okay?” Linda asked. “You’re good, deep breaths,” Jerry added. “I’m okay, I just… I didn’t like the elevator part, but the top was really cool,” Ryan said, still feeling the internal pressure on his lower abdomen. “That’s good! Let’s take one more picture by the Buffalo for Facebook and let’s go,” Jerry said. Ryan slowly followed his parents to the massive stuffed Buffalo in the museum, walking carefully. Linda noticed this as they bunched up for the picture, but decided to hold off asking until after the photos were taken. “Okay… 1, 2, 3. And 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3,” Jerry said, taking selfie pictures at different angles for what seemed like an eternity to Ryan as the pressure in his stomach built to unbearable levels. Ugh, I can’t take this… it’s just a fart, it’ll be okay, no one can hear it in this huge museum, and they probably wouldn’t smell it, Ryan thought as his dad took more pictures despite saying “last one” multiple times. Ryan felt his stomach gurgle as he finally released, leading to immediate regret as he felt the liquid production slowly fill his pull up. His eyes grew and face turned red in the last picture as he realized what he just did. “Okay, let’s go,” Jerry finally said, satisfied with the shots. “I’m going to use the bathroom before we head out though.” “You go ahead,” Linda insisted, sensing something was off with her son. “I’ll wait here with Ryan and I’ll go next.” She crouched down to his eye level after he slowly moved from his spot. “What’s wrong, Anak?” “Umm, I had an accident…” Ryan alluded. Linda’s eyes grew as she realized the severity of the accident. She stood back up and spotted a secluded corner of the museum a short distance away that was partly concealed by a mock up of a Native American teepee. She held Ryan’s hand as they walked behind the exhibit, making sure not too many people were around. He stood there frozen, with his legs spread wide, trying to come to terms with how he just soiled himself while awake. “Okay, let’s have a look,” Linda said sweetly to put her son more at ease. She pulled the back rear waistband of his Goodnites once more, this time seeing the brown liquid stain that was partially absorbed by the pull up. She proceeded to pull his shorts down to his ankles, seeing the full extent of the damage where the mess pooled by the seat of his pull ups. She checked her purse to realize that she left the extra pull up in the suit case along with the baby wipes, legitimately not expecting any major accidents in the brief period they would be at the Arch. She grimaced at her lack of oversight, and felt bad that her son now had to walk around in his own mess. She pulled Ryan’s cargo shorts back up. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” she said, thinking aloud as she sanitized her hands. “We’ll walk over to the van and get you all freshened up there. I’ll text your dad to meet us there and we’ll be on our way after.” “I’m sorry,” Ryan said quietly, looking at the floor. “Honey, it’s okay. Accidents happen,” she said, hugging her son. “I’m your mom, it’s my job to keep you clean and healthy. Now let’s go.” The two of them held hands as they made their way through the museum and into parking lot, with Ryan self consciously trying to walk as normal as possible. Eventually they got to van, with Linda instructing Ryan to stay in the middle row of the Odyssey as she went to the trunk to open up the suit case. She grabbed the baby wipes and realized this was the last pull up, taking a mental note to pick up some more at their next stop. She opened up the sliding door to see Ryan squatting down to avoid being seen from the windows. “It’s okay,” she reassured. “Now lie down.” “Lie down? Here? On the floor?” Ryan asked. “Yes, now let’s go, your dad will be out soon.” “Can I at least lie down on the back seat?” He pleaded. “No, I don’t want any poop to get on the seats. Also, I’ll have more space to work with from here,” she explained. Reluctantly, Ryan obeyed, still self conscious about how little privacy he was about to get. He laid down on the floor as his mom blocked the view from the outside, and began by pulling his shorts and shoes off. Ryan covered his face as she began to tear the seams of the sides of his pull up and unfolded the front. Linda grimaced a little as she held up his ankles with one hand and grabbed a wipe with another. Ryan hoped no one was walking by as his mother thoroughly wiped his bottom for the next several minutes. “Okay, hard part’s done,” she said with a sigh as she lowered his ankles. She opened the pull up and slipped it up his legs to his waistline. She then put his shorts back on, and rolled up the heavily soiled pull up before tying it into a plastic shopping bag with the used wipes. “Can you get your shoes on?” “I got it,” Ryan said, hoping to regain some dignity and independence by doing the small act of tying his shoes. Jerry returned to the car and hopped in the driver seat as Linda threw the plastic bag into a nearby trash can. She got in the front passenger seat as they started their long journey home. After the first hour, Ryan fell asleep as the deep hypnotic midwestern landscape lulled him to a slumber, and Linda asked Jerry to search for the next closest drugstore or retail center. The GPS located a Walgreens off of an exit 30 miles away as they traversed the empty midwestern farmlands with the interstate. Knowing how much Jerry hated taking side trips that would delay them, she didn’t mind waiting to find a store that was conveniently just off the interstate. They soon pulled off into the remote town and quickly arrived in the parking lot of the drug store. Ryan felt the car stop and woke up disoriented. “Where are we?” He asked as he rubbed his eyes, not recognizing the area. “Your mom is just grabbing some supplies from the Walgreens. She’ll be back out soon if you want to walk around and stretch your legs a little,” his dad explained, to which Ryan obliged. Inside the store, Linda soon discovered it was slim pickings. She new Covid was causing a plethora of disruptions of the supply chain, but it was especially hitting hard out here in these remote southern Illinois towns and villages. Half of the shelves were barren or barely stocked, and she considered herself lucky to find the last bottle of Pepto Bismol for her son to ease his stomach. She picked up the last few bottles of Pedialyte and intended to supplement it with Gatorade. Finally, she made her way to the baby aisle for arguably her most important provision. She went to the nighttime underwear section at the end of the diaper aisle and saw that it was empty, except for a couple packs of the store brand nighttime pull ups, to which she learned the hard way years ago that they almost always leaked under Ryan’s nightly floods. Even the pull ups training pants were out of stock. She turned to an employee who was stocking formula in the same aisle. “Excuse me, do you have any of the boys Goodnites in stock? Like maybe in the back?” “We don’t, sorry,” apologized the employee. “We ran out of those about a month ago. I can check our inventory requests, but I think we might be getting a new shipment in about 4 days.” “I can’t do 4 days,” Linda said with a sigh. She felt a vibration on her phone and saw a text from her husband. Are you almost done? We’re trying to get home before nightfall, we gotta get on the road soon! Be right there, she replied. She doubted Jerry would be willing to make another stop, unless it was for gas, which they probably wouldn’t need for at least a couple hours. Thinking fast, she looked at what they did have in stock, noticing what was mostly left on the shelves were the variations of Huggies, Luvs, and Pampers. Of those, the only ones she thought might even remotely fit were the Pampers Baby Dry in size 6. Linda grabbed a pack of 21 and eyeballed it, noting that while her son was several pounds above the recommended weight range, his short and slender build from his Filipino genetics should allow him to fit, noting the stretchy side tabs advertised on the package. Ryan’s probably not gonna like this, but it’s what we got, she figured. She took her grocery haul to the checkout counter and paid for her items. She kept the diapers hidden in the plastic shopping bag as she bought it into the front seat of the van with her. After a quick check of Ryan’s pull up, she determined it would safely hold up for another hour or 2, but was overall happy that he hadn’t had more diarrhea. Nonetheless, she pushed Ryan to drink a bottle of Pedialyte followed by some Gatorade to replenish his fluids. Now that she had more diapers on hand, she didn’t feel as stressed as when he was down to the last pull up. Chapter 5: Full and Heavy Changes Inevitably, as they headed up north, Jerry acknowledged that they had to stop for gas. He wasn’t too upset about it as the lack of traffic and good weather meant he was making great time and was well able to make it home before dark. As Jerry refilled the tank, Linda used the bathroom herself and took the opportunity to get some cheap coffee. Ryan waited patiently inside the van, engrossed in his sketches as Linda opened the sliding door. “Anak, come here and lie down,” she said. Ryan got out of his seat and went towards his mom and laid down on the floor of the middle row, already knowing what was coming. Linda grabbed the Walgreens bag and set it down next to her, the turquoise green top of the diaper pack sticking out of the bag. She pulled down his shorts to his ankles, but this time left them on along with his shoes. Noticing this, Ryan looked over and saw his mother tear open the package labeled Pampers Baby Dry and pull out a diaper adorned with Sesame Street characters and unfolded it open. “Wait, what happened to my Goodnites?” He asked, confused. “We ran out, you’re wearing the last of them,” she said as she ripped the sides of his pull up open. “The store was out of pull ups, and this was all they had in your size. Sorry.” She unfolded the front of his wet pull up and began to wipe away urine. “Will those even fit me? Can’t we go to a bigger store like Walmart and get some?” “They should! You used to use these when you were a toddler, you didn’t even make it to their largest size by the time you potty trained,” Linda lifted up her son’s ankles to quickly wipe his bottom and slide out the wet pull up, which she replaced with the diaper. Ryan cringed a little as his mother folded the front atop his groin and he heard the tapes open. He noticed these had a strong baby powder scent to them She gingerly placed them on the landing zone, readjusting them for better fit. Satisfied with her work, she helped her son stand up, causing him look down and see the childish designs that now displayed across his bottom and front. “There we go! A bit snug, but a perfect fit,” she commented. In his mind, Ryan hated how well it fit him, cursing his genetically small frame as his mom pulled his shorts up for him. He instinctively pulled his shirt bottom down, hoping the waistband wouldn’t stick out of his shorts like he saw on many toddlers. Linda could sense how vexed her son was as he sat back down and immediately avoided eye contact with her. “Hey,” she said, causing him to look at her. “When we finish the pack, we’ll get you your normal pull-ups when we get home, okay?” “Fine,” he said as he crossed his arms. Linda rolled up the wet pull up and threw it out at the trash can by the gas pump. She kept the Pampers package by the front seat with her next to the other items she bought from Walgreens. She grabbed another Gatorade and handed it to Ryan. “Make sure you keep drinking! You need to stay hydrated to beat this stomach bug, and when we get home, I’ll give you some medicine. We only have a couple hours left and we’re home,” she reassured. Ryan didn’t respond as he continued to drink, still a bit annoyed at his predicament, but was slowly coming to terms with it. The remainder of the trip was fairly uneventful, except for a 20 minute spat of traffic as the family got closer to the Chicagoland area. About half an hour into the final leg, Ryan felt the urge to urinate, and after letting go, was surprised at how well the Pampers did at wicking away the moisture from his body, but stopped short of admitting to himself that they might feel more comfortable than his usual Goodnites. Nonetheless, they managed to make it home with only a 10 minute delay, and just in time for the sunset as Jerry parked the van in the driveway for easier unloading. Ryan helped unload the car along with his dad while Linda unpacked the cooler to keep the contents from spoiling. She watched her son carry the heavy maleta by himself into the house, and she felt almost like she had traveled back in time as she spied the familiar sight of his diaper peaking above his shorts as he struggled to carry the suitcase, which reminded her… “Ryan! Make sure to grab your diapers from the front seat and put them in your bathroom in the usual spot!” she called out the door as he made his way back outside. “Did you hear me?” “Yes, mom,” Ryan responded with an audibly annoyed tone. He hated that she specifically said your diapers. He grabbed them from the front seat as instructed, hoping no one in the neighborhood was watching. He yawned as he entered the house, realizing it was just about to be his usual bedtime as they finished unloading and unpacking everything. “Actually Ryan, hold on. Come here first,” his mom called out from the kitchen. He yawned again as he met her at the kitchen table, pouring out Pepto Bismol into a small medicine cup. She noticed how drowsy he looked as he put down the Pampers package and finished drinking the pink liquid, looking at the time, which seemed to have flown by. “Ready for bed, sleepyhead?” “Yeah,” he answered as he rubbed his eye. “Tell you what, I know it was a long day, so I’ll let you go to bed right away just this once, as long as you promise to shower first thing in the morning, okay?” “I will,” Ryan assured. His mother smiled and bent down to kiss him on the forehead. As she did that she noticed a particular familiar scent. “Actually,” she began. “Anak, can you lie down over there for me?” She gestured to the living room floor just outside the kitchen. Ryan sighed but already expected this to happen inevitably before he went to bed anyway. Linda pulled out a diaper from the package and began unfolding it as she pulled out the baby wipes pack from her purse before walking over to Ryan who was lying down on the living room floor, making himself comfortable by placing a couch pillow under his head. She pulled his shorts off his legs, leaving Ryan to feel extra exposed with just his diaper and shirt, a sensation he never got fully used to, even though he already experienced this multiple times in the past couple days. Linda noticed how saturated the diaper looked with the wetness indicator turning blue, but was glad there were no leaks, and it appeared that it could’ve handled another one of Ryan’s floods. She took a deep breath as she untaped the tabs and pulled down the front, after which she put her hands on her hips and made a frustrated face at the semi liquid mess that confirmed her suspicions. “Ryan!” “What?” “What do you mean ‘what?’ You pooped again,” Linda chastised. “When did this happen?” “While we were stuck in traffic. And you literally said I could before if I had to! And that the bathrooms weren’t safe!” He reasoned. “I mean, I did, but why didn’t you say something? We could’ve stopped somewhere and I could’ve changed you.” “I didn’t think it would matter, we were almost home anyway. And I really couldn’t help it, honest! It just hit me again like at the Arch,” Ryan began to sit up, but his mom gently pushed him back to a lying position. “Don’t move,” she sighed as she pulled out a wipe and lifted his ankles up with her other hand. “Besides, I didn’t want dad to get mad again if we had to stop because of me,” he replied, his voice trembling a little. “I’m sorry.” “No, no. Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault,” Linda reassured after taking a deep breath, realizing that last part was true as she continued to clean up her son. “Just let me know if it happens again next time. It’s not good for you to be sitting in it for too long.” She pulled the soiled diaper out from under him and slid the fresh one in its place, gently lowering his legs back down onto it as she taped the front into place. Linda pulled Ryan to his feet and gave him a warm hug. “You know, you look so cute dressed like that,” she whispered. He immediately left her arms and embarrassingly tried to pull his shirt down. “Mooom!” “Make sure you brush your teeth before bed!” She yelled as he scurried up the stairs to the bathroom. Linda rolled up the soiled diaper and threw it away in the garage trash, followed by her bringing the open Pampers package up Ryan’s room and placing it next to his bedside table. She showered and got herself ready for bed so she could her husband in the master bedroom. Jerry was already asleep, exhausted from a long day of driving. She walked over to Ryan’s room, who was so tired, he immediately slumped onto the bed, sprawled out like a starfish, and didn’t even bother changing out of shirt, let alone putting on pajama pants. She grabbed the Tigger off the floor and put it next to his side before tucking him into the covers. The following morning, Ryan woke up once again to the familiar mushy sensation in his heavy diaper. He waddled down the stairs to see his mother in the kitchen preparing breakfast, who noticed him immediately. “Oh Anak what are you doing up so early? Go back to bed right now, you need rest to beat this stomach bug,” she said earnestly. “But mom, um,” he wasn’t sure if he wanted to mention it, but remembered what his mom said last night. “I pooped.” “Aw, it’s okay honey. Go back to your room, I’ll be up there to clean you up in a minute. Thank you for telling me,” she instructed as Ryan waddled back up to his room. He didn’t want to sit down and make the mess on his bottom worse, and he decided to stand until his mom arrived. As she stepped in the room, he laid down on the carpet without asking as Linda grabbed the baby wipes. Other than telling him to take his shirt from yesterday off, she went through her usual changing process, but took mental note how watery the consistency was of her son’s bowel movement, with most of it being absorbed by the back of the diaper, as well as how dark yellow it was stained at the front. “How’s your tummy, Anak? Has your appetite come back” “Not really, I’m still a little queasy,” he admitted. “Hmmm, I’ll get you a small bowl of oatmeal so you at least get something for breakfast. Hop in the shower and I’ll get your clothes and medicine ready too,” she said as she finished wiping him down. Ryan grabbed a towel from his drawer and wrapped it around himself as he raced to the bathroom. As he bathed, Linda took the rolled up soiled diaper and threw it in the garage trash. She washed her hands in the kitchen and prepared a small bowl of oatmeal, along with a bottle of Pedialyte and a 32 ounce bottle full of water she picked up from the hospital. She wasn’t liking how dehydrated her son was getting from the diarrhea, even if he didn’t immediately notice. Lastly, she grabbed the bottle of Pepto Bismol as she made her way back up to Ryan’s bedroom. She laid the bowl and bottles on the bedside table and grabbed a folded Lego T shirt from Ryan’s shirt drawer and placed it on his bed. She opened up the drawer where he kept his underwear and paused, ultimately deciding to close it. Ryan finished drying himself off in the bathroom and walked his toweled self back to his room, surprised to see his mom got everything ready so quickly. “Oh good you’re done! Anak come here,” she said, patting the bed. Ryan, still holding the towel around his waist, walked over and sat on the bed, which resulted in Linda gently laying him down on his pillow. She bent over next to the nightstand and pulled out a diaper from the package, unfolding it. Ryan’s eyes grew as he sat up. “Hey wait! We’re home, I can use the bathroom! It’s clean! And I’m feeling a lot better today, can’t I have my regular underwear?” “I know we’re home Anak, but I was just thinking that since you’re still sick, I want you to stay in bed today and get some rest. If you can, I want you to go back to sleep as much as possible since it will help you beat this stomach bug and help you recover faster. I also want you drinking plenty of fluids. You may not feel it, but you’re really dehydrated, and I don’t want to risk you having an unexpected accident, awake or asleep. Plus, this will help me monitor your stools,” Linda answered as she simultaneously went into mom and nurse mode. “My stools?” Ryan asked quizzically. “Your poop, Anak. I don’t think you’ve had a solid one since before the trip, and that’s not good. I know it sounds gross, but we won’t know you’ve gotten over this tummy issue until you have a solid poop,” she said nonchalantly. “Can’t I just go in the toilet while I’m awake?” He tried to reason. “Oh I would let you, Anak, but I honestly don’t want to take any chances with accidents on the bed or floor, especially with how unpredictable your stomach has been the past couple days, and I don’t want you leaving the bed a lot. If you have to go, just go and I’ll change you after, I don’t mind,” Linda said as she ripped off the towel. She lifted up Ryan’s legs and slipped the diaper under his bottom and securely taped it up. He felt extra vulnerable being naked in just a diaper, which his mom partially remedied by slipping the shirt onto him. He waited for his mom to slip shorts on, then realized there weren’t any on the bed. “Can I at least have shorts or something?” Ryan asked as he sat up. “It’s easier if you don’t honey, it’ll be easier for me to check if you’re wet and change you. It’ll also be better since it’s so hot today,” she reasoned, a fact that Ryan couldn’t argue. “I know you don’t like this, but once you’re stomach feels better and I know your poop is back to normal, you can get out of bed and wear big boy underwear again. I’ll bring you your sketchbook and I’ll let you watch shows on the iPad so you don’t get bored in bed when you’re not napping. How does that sound?” “I guess that’s okay,” Ryan compromised. Historically, his parents were strict about technology usage, determined to not have their son become one of those “iPad kids”. They only had one television in the whole house, and one laptop each for each parent’s work. They didn’t allow video games, except in the rare instance Ryan was visiting a relative or friend’s house that had a gaming system. Two things they were willing to spend money on for Ryan were books and art supplies, considering them an investment to make him more well rounded and educated. He was thankful his mom was willing to compromise on the iPad for the day; he wasn’t expecting to get a smartphone until at least high school. “Great!” Linda concluded. “Make sure you’re constantly drinking! Have a little of the oatmeal if you can too. I’ll give you some medicine in a little bit for your tummy. Try to sleep, but I’ll be checking in on you when I can.” She made her way out of the bedroom, closing the door and popping it back open almost immediately. “Use the iPad to text me if you need anything, like more water or Gatorade… or if you need to be changed.” “Okay mom, thanks, I’m good,” he said as he began to open up Disney+ on his tablet. Ryan scrolled through shows and movies with one hand while holding his water bottle with the other, aggressively sipping through the straw as he ultimately decided on The Force Awakens. After about the first 30 minutes, he nearly finished the water bottle, leading him to drink from the Pedialyte bottle, which he drank at a slightly slower pace. The movie was about to reach the final battle when Linda cracked the door open, causing Ryan to pause the film. “Everything okay? Need anything?” She asked with a smile. She saw that the water bottle was almost empty, happy to know her son was taking the hydration seriously. “Yep I’m good, mom. Thanks,” he answered quickly, eager to resume the movie. Ryan pressed play and quickly became engrossed in the action. Linda went to the bed side table and picked up the water bottle, leaving to refill it. When she returned, she decided to see if Ryan needed a change, noticing almost immediately the blue wetness indicator and that his diaper looked ready to burst. With his attention tied to the iPad in his hands, Ryan didn’t notice as his mother pulled another diaper from the package, and barely flinched as she undid the tapes on the one he was wearing, but continued to watch the movie. She unfolded the wet diaper open, and began to do a quick wipe. “Looks like someone was ready for a change,” Linda commented as she slipped out the heavy diaper and lowered his bottom onto a fresh one. “You sure went a lot.” Ryan turned red as he pretended not to hear, keeping his eyes on the film as his mom tapes up the front. “Sorry,” he said as his mom rolled up the diaper. “No, that’s a good thing! At least I know you’re hydrated,” Linda tossed it in the bedroom trash as she made her way to the door. “Try to sleep for a little bit after the movie. I’ll get you some rice for lunch later if you’re up to it.” “Okay mom,” Ryan said as the movie reached the conclusion. As the credits rolled, he locked the iPad screen and placed it next to his pillow. He spent the next 15 minutes trying to sleep, only to feel tension in his bladder, to which he quickly released from all the water and Pedialyte he was downing. Feeling more relaxed, he quickly drifted into a slumber. About an hour and a half later, Ryan woke up, feeling a familiar mush pushing against his bottom. She heard the voice of his mom talking to his dad in his parents’ bedroom across the hall. “Mom!” Ryan yelled. “Yes honey?” She called back. “Ummm, I think I need a change,” he said awkwardly. “Hang on, I’ll be right there!” Linda called back from the bedroom. Jerry was sending emails on his laptop for the upcoming work week. “You’re keeping him in nappies?” He asked as she headed for the door. “Yeah, he’s still sick, poor thing,” she answered. “Can’t he get up to use the bathroom? It’s not like we’re some germ infested public restroom.” “He can, but this is easier. I’d rather do this than pay for an expensive carpet cleaner in case he doesn’t make it,” she explained. “That’s true I suppose,” Jerry concurred. “Couldn’t you at least teach him to change himself? Changing a 9 year old isn’t exactly something most parents do at this stage in life.” “I do the laundry here, I barely trust him to wipe himself properly using the toilet,” Linda joked. “As messy as he gets, I’d rather just change him myself so it’s less headache for everyone.” “As long as I don’t have to change him,” Jerry quipped as he returned to his emails. Linda walked into Ryan’s room as he laid on his back on the bed, the iPad in his hands now the center of attention. She sniffed the air. “Sorry about that wait. Did you manage to sleep a little?,” she said as she grabbed a new diaper. “Yeah a little bit,” he answered as he decided on The Mandalorian. “I called you as soon as I woke up.” She undid the tapes and opened up the diaper, noticing how Ryan’s mess was now starting to be a little more solid in consistency. That’s a good sign, she thought as she began to wipe and replace the diaper, rolling up the old one. Ryan sat upright as he watched the show. “I’m going to pour you some medicine,” Linda said as she sanitized her hands and stood up to grab Pepto Bismol bottle on the table. She meticulously measured the proper dosage into the medicine cup, pouring some back into the bottle as she slightly poured too much after holding the measuring lines up to the light. Once she got the portion right, she turned back to her son, noticing out of the corner of her eye that his wetness indicator was already blue, but the diaper itself wasn’t too saturated. Really? I literally just changed you a second ago, she thought to herself as Ryan sipped the medicine cup and resumed the episode. She decided she’d check back on him in about an hour or so, not wanting to waste another diaper. When she returned to his room, Linda saw her son passed out, laying on his side with tablet in hand, with the show still playing. She took the iPad and plugged it into the charger, taking the opportunity to gently pat her son’s diapered bottom, noticing that while it was a little full, she was surprised there wasn’t a distinctive mush. She decided to go to the master bedroom and take a nap herself before tackling the next task of making dinner. Linda woke up an hour later, deciding to drop by Ryan’s room to see if he was still asleep. Inside, she saw him sitting up crisscross applesauce with the sketchbook and colored pencils in hand, the tablet still on the charger. She walked over to the nightstand and cleared the empty Pedialyte bottles and took the half empty water bottle. “How are you feeling, honey?” “Better! A lot better, actually,” Ryan said enthusiastically. “Looks like the medicine and rest is working,” she said happily as she left the room. Linda topped off the water bottle and placed it next to him on the bedside table. She saw how droopy her son’s diaper had become after the lengthy nap. “Looks like someone needs a diaper change too!” She playfully pulled his legs across the bed, causing him to fall back onto his pillow and nearly dropping the sketchbook. “Hey! I was working on that!” He said with a chuckle. “Looks like you were working hard on your hydration too,” she said as she undid the tapes once again and unfolded the soaked front of the diaper. She was half surprised to see no diarrhea accidents after this nap. “Good job honey! You weren’t poopy this time when you woke up,” she congratulated as Ryan covered his face in embarrassment. “Tummy feeling better?” She asked as she did a quick job of wiping. “Yes,” Ryan answered through his hands. “Good! Looks like you’re finally on the mend,” she said as she finished taping up the new diaper. “You think you’re up to some bananas and applesauce in a little bit?” Linda asked as she tossed the wet diaper in his trash. She noticed it was getting full, and proceeded to tie the plastic liner up and replace it. “Yeah, I’m actually feeling a little hungry now,” he admitted. “Coming right up!” She said cheerfully as she walked out of the room. Ryan put his sketchbook away and grabbed his tablet from the charger. He searched up Avengers: Endgame and pressed play on the lengthy movie, sipping from a Gatorade as the film commenced. A few minutes later, his mom returned with a small pack of apple sauce with a spoon and a banana, to which Ryan enthusiastically consumed, alternating with regular sips of water and Gatorade. During the last 45 minutes of the movie, Ryan felt a pressure in his stomach that he ignored. After a few minutes, the tension suddenly rose to the point he couldn’t ignore it. Realizing what he had to do, he called for his mom, and heard no answer. Ryan paused the movie and texted his mother using the messenger app on his iPad. Mom, can you come up please? he texted. After a few seconds, the typing bubble appeared, shortly followed by a response. I’m on a Zoom call for work, can you wait a bit? I kind of have to go, he texted back. Is it number 2? She asked. Yes, it’s kind of an emergency, Ryan texted back. Anak, you have your diaper, Linda texted in response. Ryan wasn’t sure how to respond to that when his mom’s typing bubble appeared again. I’ll be up in a about 30-45 minutes. The conversation showed that Linda enabled silent mode so the notifications wouldn’t distract her from the conference call. Ryan began to sweat; conflicted as to what to do as the pressure in his abdomen started to become unbearable. He contemplated running to the bathroom, but he didn’t want his mom to yell at him for getting out of bed, let alone get caught by his father. Realizing his only option, Ryan sighed as he knew what he had to do. He unpaused the movie, midway through the action of the climactic final battle. He first sat upright to relieve some tension, only to stand on his bed a second later, trying to use the movie as a distraction. He squatted down as the pressure in his bowels became increasingly unbearable, finally giving up as he released some gas, followed rapidly by what felt like warm sludge spilling into the seat of his Pampers. He grunted, releasing another quick wave until he felt empty, inadvertently releasing a stream of urine in the process. Ryan turned to view his backside, seeing a noticeable bulge now evident protruding from his bottom. He sighed, realizing this was his first time deliberately soiling himself while awake, not counting the Arch incident, as he counted that as a legitimate accident. Not wanting to make a bigger mess for his mom to clean up, Ryan laid on his belly and continued to watch the movie until his mother finished her call. Outside his room, Jerry happened to walk by and caught a good whiff of the smell emanating from his son’s room. Not wanting to deal with it himself, he went downstairs to find his wife, who was wrapping up the Zoom meeting. She turned off her microphone as Jerry entered the frame behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. “What is it?” She asked. “I think Ryan needs his nappy changed,” he said bluntly. “I know, I’ll be done in 10 minutes,” Linda assured. “Unless you want to change him yourself.” Back in his room, Ryan watched the end credits begin to roll as his mom knocked and entered the room. “Sorry for the wait, Anak,” the scent of the air hit her nose. “Ooh, your dad wasn’t kidding! Lie down!” Ryan put his iPad down and tried to ignore his mom’s comment as he started to flip onto his back, only to get stopped last second as he felt a hand gently pat his diapered bottom. “On the floor, please. That’s a really full nappy, and I don’t want to make a mess on your bedsheets.” Ryan made his way to the floor, rolling his eyes at her remark, thinking she was sounding like dad. Linda prepared by pre-pulling out some baby wipes and pulling out a diaper from the pack. “Wait,” Ryan said as she began to open up the fresh diaper. He had a stare of concentration as he relaxed and felt warm wetness pool into his Pampers, taking a few seconds to absorb. “Okay.” “Are you sure you’re done?” She said, trying to conceal a chuckle. “Yeah… sorry,” he said, covering his face again in embarrassment. “You’re okay, honey,” Linda assured, taking a deep breath as she ripped open the tapes and pulled back the front. “Ooh that’s a lot,” she commented as she noted how much of a solid load she had to clean up, lifting up Ryan’s legs by the ankles. “On the bright side, honey, I think it’s more than safe to say your stomach bug is gone.” After a few minutes of wiping, she laid Ryan’s bottom down on the fresh diaper and closed it up with the tapes. “There we go, I bet that feels much better,” she said as she smoothed out the last tape and made sure the leak guards weren’t bunched up. She placed the soiled diaper and used wipes in the plastic bag, tying it shut to keep the smell out. Ryan sat up as Linda finished sanitizing her hands. “Tell you what Ryan, if you last the whole night without your nappy getting poopy while you sleep, I think we can definitively say you’re not sick anymore by tomorrow morning. You can go back to using big boy underwear during the day, and using the normal potty, plus you won’t be stuck in bed all day. Does that sound fair?” She proposed. It didn’t take Ryan long to agree, despite cringing internally at the the childish verbiage she decided to use for the deal. “Can I go back to using pull ups too?” He added. “Like I said before, after we finish this pack, I’ll get you your normal Goodnites, unless of course you’re able to stay dry at night too,” Linda said as she stood up to go make dinner. “Deal,” Ryan said, somewhat content with the arrangement.

I tried to write a new story, and I hope you like it. I would appreciate it if you came with comments and aides. I hope you enjoy it. The story has non-sexual thins involved. the short story is about an 8-year-old boy who has started to struggle with bedwetting. It doesn't get any better when his sister finds out and wants revenge for something he did to her. ————— Tobias summer vacation The sunlight streamed through Tobias' windows, directly on his face. With summer vacation in full swing, he enjoyed lounging and stretching without school restrictions. His eyes widened, and he became more awake as he noticed something was wrong. His eyes suddenly stopped moving and widened as a terrifying thought gripped him. His hand slowly began to reach out, feeling under the cover of darkness. Tobias froze when his terrifying thoughts became a reality: he had wet the bed again. He got scared and called his mother without thinking. “Mom!” The sound of steps came through him, and the door to his room opened. “Good morning, sleepy head; everything alright? “ said his mom. His eyes started to get wet; tears began to roll down his skin. “What’s wrong, honey?” said his mom. Tobias lay in bed, sobbing, trying to explain what had happened. Unable to speak, he removed the blanket to reveal his wet bed to his mother. As she looked at it, her eyes filled with compassion and understanding. “Oh, have you had an accident again? Poor thing. That can happen to the best; shower, and I'll take care of your bed.” said his mom. Tobias felt embarrassed, but his mother gave him a warm smile. “Go take a warm shower, and then meet me for breakfast,” his mom said. Tobias walked in his wet pajamas to the bathroom for a refreshing shower, enjoying warm water running down his body. He exited the shower to find that his mother had left a towel with Lego Ninjago characters. Tobias dried himself and returned to his room. His mother had already laid out underpants, shorts, and a T-shirt on his freshly made bed. He descended the stairs and found his two older sisters already sitting, eating breakfast. His sisters Maria and Andrea played with their phones while eating and didn't notice Tobias coming. Maria was an 18-year-old girl who spent much time at work and with her friends and wasn't home much. Andrea was a 15-year-old girl who always got what she wanted, regardless of the consequences for others. She was tired of all the attention the little brat always got and was looking forward to spending the summer with her friends. The girls loved their parents, and although they didn't despise their little brother, they loved him but found his constant attention and spoiled nature particularly annoying. The girls always enjoyed teasing Tobias because he was much shorter than the other children his age. Sometimes, the girls would take Tobias out to play and often met strangers who mistook him for a younger child. Once, Tobias was mistakenly taken to the kindergarten when a teacher mistook him for a little child. Tobias prepared a breakfast mix and placed the bowl on the table before setting up his highchair. Tobias always found it so embarrassing that he had to use a high chair instead of sitting on an adult chair. However, he knew using a highchair was better than sitting on his knees. Their mother sat down with her children and relaxed with a cup of coffee before she broke the silence. “So kids, what's your plans today?” said his mom. Maria put the phone down and looked over to her mother. “I have work and then some plans with my friends. We will drive to the beach; a friend will pick me up soon.” Andrea glanced at Maria and rolled her eyes before speaking, "I'm going to hang out with some friends." His mother smiled at her daughters, took another sip of her coffee, and leaned closer to chat more quietly with Tobias. “Did you go to the washroom with the wet pajamas?” his mom asked. The girl's eyes filled with curiosity as they listened to their mother's whispering voice. Andrea burst into laughter before responding. “Has the baby wet the bed again? Maybe you should consider using diapers on him again, like babies need, Mom!” Andrea said. Tobias turned red with embarrassment as he heard the mocking laughter and hurtful words. He wasn't a baby, an 8-year-old kid who wanted to yell back at them, but he knew his mother would get angry from arguing. Tobias took control of his frustration and quietly ate his food while looking down. Maria giggled and laughed with her sister until their mother looked at them sternly. "Now that's enough, girls. You can leave the table," their mom said. His mother looked at him with an expression of love but also concern. “Don't listen to those girls. Now I'll clean up; the kitchen looked like a mess.” said his mom. Thinking raced through her head while she got up and walked to the kitchen to clean up. She wondered why he had started wetting the bed at night. She planned to talk to her husband and schedule a doctor's appointment when he came home. Tobias finished his food and gave his mother his plate before returning to his room. He sat down on his rug and opened his drawers full of Legos. Time flew by as he built with all the Lego bricks he had. Without him noticing, someone began brushing his hair. Tobias turned and was happy to see his father bending down behind him. "Daddy, you're home!" “Hi, champ! Had a good day?” his dad said. Tobias smiled as he saw his father sit down on the bottom to play with the Legos with him. "Do you want to join me for a little play, Daddy?" As they chatted about the day, his father built a little with his son. “When do you have a vacation, Dad?” “I don't have any holiday yet, but we'll manage. So, Mom told me about what happened last night. Is there anything that has happened that you want to talk about? It's been a while since you used to wet the bed at night.” said his dad. Tobias sat quietly and said nothing as he poked at the Lego. "I don't know, Dad. It just happened. I'm sorry." "It'll be fine, champ. It'll probably just be a bad night." his dad said. His father got up and left the room to talk to his wife. A little worried, he looked back at his son before he disappeared and went downstairs. He sat beside his wife, tired from a long day at work. She had put some dinner in the oven, which would soon be ready. "I asked Junior why he had wet the bed several times. He didn't know." his father said. She looked over at him with a worried look. "It has happened too often to be just an accident, and I soon won't have any bedwear left. No, we need to take him to a doctor. I will call them tomorrow." the mother said. She got up and started setting the table. Tobias came down the stairs simultaneously with his mother, who had just put lasagna on the table. “Tobias, can you tell your sisters it is time for dinner?” his mom said. Tobias nodded and ran up the stairs to his sisters. He knocked on the door and waited until Maria said he could come in. "It's dinner," he said, running to Andreas' room. He knocked on the door but got no answer. He tried again, but there was still no response from her. Tobias opened the door and entered the room. He studied all the drawings and figures she had created. Suddenly, he heard her voice behind him. "What are you doing in my room? Who said you could walk into my room, your little bed wetter? If it was up to me, would I put you back in diapers? It was so funny at school when you were mistaken for a kindergarten kid, and the funniest thing is that you don't look any older than one,” Andrea said mockingly. Tobias looked at her with an angry look. He wasn't a kindergarten kid; he was a big kid. “I'm not a baby! I'm a big kid!” Andrea burst out laughing as she could see his face became red. “Are you a big kid? You could be mistaken for a toddler in the right clothes, considering you are still wet in the bed. Real big kids don't wet their beds. You would have looked adorable in diapers and some childish clothes,” said Andrea as she laughed. Tobias became angry and red as he ran out of her room and into his room. He buried his face down into his bed pillow with anger. He wanted to tell his mother how much Andrea had teased him; this wasn't fear. But the more he thought about it, the more afraid he became that his mother would think it would be a good idea to put him back in diapers. Tobias cooled down and walked to join the others for dinner. “Hay, champ, you disappeared a little. Is everything okay?” his father asked with a slightly concerned tone. Tobias tried to keep his smile up but said nothing as he sat in his chair. He and his sisters giggled as they whispered to each other before Andrea spoke. "He must have been late to the table for another accident," said Andrea as the girls giggled. Their parents were visibly displeased by Andrea's choice of words and directed stern looks at her. Both girls immediately fell silent, focusing solely on their meals. Tobias felt embarrassed and ashamed at how the girls treated him. As they ate, the conversation turned to discussing their respective days, but Tobias remained silent, his mind unable to shake off the hurtful words his sister had used. Despite not being as tall or physically developed as others his age, Tobias resented being treated like a little child. He ate his food and looked over at his mom. “May I be excused from the table?” “Of course you can.” said his mother. He cleaned his table and returned to his room, still irritated by what the girls had said of him. Time passed as he looked at the TV in his room, and his mother came in. “It's time for bed, young man. Brush your teeth and come back; we need to talk,” his mother said in a warm tone. He walked to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and went to the toilet before he came back. His mother was still sitting on his bed, waiting for him, holding his pajamas in her hand as he walked inside his room. He came to his mother, removed his clothes, and took on the pajamas before lying on the bed. “So, young man, I have spoken to your father. You have an appointment at the doctor's tomorrow. There have been too many bedwetting accidents,” his mom said calmly but in a loving tone. Tobias' face became scared, and he didn't want to go to any doctors. “Why, I promise to stop with the wetting.” “I'll make you a deal: If you behave well tomorrow, I will take you to your favorite ice cream shop. Is that okay?” his mom said. He smiled as his mother ruffled his hair and left the room. His dad walked by, gave him a wink. "Good night, champ; see you tomorrow." his dad said. The door closed as Tobias lay down and thought of the morning. His eyes became heavy, and he fell asleep. As the sun came through his window, Tobias's eyes opened; he soon felt something was wrong; he had done it again—his bed was wet. He walked out of his bed and took a shower before he took some clothes. His sister wasn't up yet, but his mother sat with a coffee. “Good morning, young man. Are you first up today? How did the night go?” said his mom. He looked at the ground, and his mother understood the answer. She came and hugged him. “It's okay. I'll fix your wet bed, and you can wake your sisters.” said his mom. He smiled and strolled over to Andrea's room. As he approached, he noticed that her door was slightly ajar. Peeking inside, he saw Andrea putting some beer into her backpack. Tobias made a misstep; his sister shouted his name as he sprinted to his mother. Upon her mother's coming, she promptly unzipped the bag, and Andrea looked at Tobias with intense hatred. “What is this? Beer! Maria, where have you got a beer from?” their mother shouted sternly. Andrea cast a sympathetic glance her mother's way while their mother fell silent as her eyes fixed on her watch. “I forgot we have a doctor's appointment, Tobias. Come. And you, young lady, I'll deal with you later,” said their mother sharply. As their mother walked away, Tobias began to turn when Andrea grasped his arm firmly. “Now listen, little pee boy. You will regret this," while Andrea's expression could terrify anyone. Andrea releases him, and he runs to his mother, who is waiting in the car with her phone. Tobias tries to tell his mother what Andrea did, but she talks with Dad about the beer. Tobias sits back and looks out the windows as they drive away. After a drive, they park the car in a parking garage and walk into a building. It feels like an eternity for Tobias to walk fast, but they make it just in time. His mother placed him on a chair as she stood in line to announce their arrival. Tobias walked over to some cool toys and started to play. A young nurse came by Tobias. “Hello there, little man. I think these toys are for big boys, but you can play with this once over here.” the nurse said with a smile. He looked over at the young nurse who had found some toys for daycare children. “There you go, have fun.” the lady said as she walked away. He became red in his face and irritated. He was not a daycare baby; he was a big kid. He returned to his mother, who had sat in the waiting room. His mother took his hand and sat beside him as they waited for their turn. The nurse came and said Tobias' name; his mother looked at him and took his hands. They walked into the man who sat in the doctor's office. He smiled and raised his hand to greet them. “Good day. I am Doctor Brown. What can I do for you?” As his mother started talking to the doctor, Tobias sat a little scared. As he looked at a picture of a girl the same age as Andrea, Tobias began to think nervously about what Andrea said before he ran to the car. Was it wrong to tell Mom about the beer? Is it okay to drink? He hired the doctor, said his name, and Tobias looked at him. “Don't be worried, Tobias. We will check everything to see if something is wrong with you, young man.” the doctor said. He rose and showed how they would take some tests. It felt like an eternity with all the testing and things the doctors wanted to do, but Tobias always returned to the incident with his sister. The look on her face was so angry and mean, and it did not look good; he felt afraid. Tobias had come back from his thoughts. He realized he now sat and waited outside in the waiting room to return to the doctor's office. At the same time, his name was up. They sat down with the doctor. He started with the easy words that they could not find anything wrong with him; he had to be immature in his body. He was small for his age, and Tobias looked wans again at the picture of the girl, which reminded him of what Andrea had said. It wasn't funny that the nurse had mistaken him for a little child. His mother raised her hand and thanked the doctor as they walked out. She looked a little worried when they walked away from the doctor. She looked at him and said she needed to stop by the store for supplies. Tobias followed along as his mother picked out the food and supplies required. His mother took a long time to look at something. He looked up and got red in the face. She was looking at diapers! “Mom! What are you doing? I don't need diapers; that is for small babies.” She lifted something into the trolley as she looked over at him. “Don't worry; it's just a safety measure. It will be our little secret. Didn't you hear the doctor say we should use protection at night? Also, it's difficult for me to change your bed every day. I had enough this morning with Andrea and the doctor. Please stop acting like a baby. It's not diapers; it's pull-ups, but if you act more like a baby, maybe I should take diapers instead!” his mother said, irritated. They had walked back to the car and were on their way home. Tobias mined raced, being mistaken for a little child; now he had to use pull-ups! They parked the car, and his mother opened the car door for him. They walked inside with all the groceries and the pull-ups. He walked in silently and into his room. He started to play some TV games as time began to fly. He heard his mother and her talking down stars, not in a great tone, and suddenly, she called out everyone's names and told them to come down. When Tobias came downstairs, Andrea sat on the sofa with an angry look and her arms crossed. His mother smiled at him with a loving tone. “Now, Andrea, Dad is going on a business trip. I don't want to sit at home, so Tobias and you will drive with me to my sister.” said their mom. Andrea became red in anger. “What about my friends? I need to be home!” said Andrea, irritated as her mother looked sternly back at her. “Now you listen, young lady. I told you that Maria needed to work so she would be home, but you would be with me and your brother. We are leaving tomorrow for my sister, and you will not be angry about it. This is entirely your fault. Now behave,” said their mom in a stern tone at her. Andrea was so upset about going on this stupid trip with her mother and little pee brother and not seeing her friends. She blamed Tobias for the whole situation! "Is my cousin Sofia there, at least?" Andrea asked. Here, Mother smiled back at her. “Yes, and so is Sam.” said his mom. Andrea just rolled her eyes and spoke silently. “Sam? He’s four, isn't he? He's just another baby but a good play buddy for Tobias.” Her eyes lit up like fire as she repeated it. “Yes, a good play buddy for Tobias,” she said as her smile grew. Tobias got worried about what Andreas's eyes shoved. Whatever she was thinking, this can't be good. “So, we are leaving tomorrow morning. Your father has to leave on a business trip tonight. Andrea and Tobias, go and pack your bags; we are leaving early tomorrow." said their mom. Tobias runs upstairs to pack his bag of toys. His mother comes upstairs with a bag and starts to pack his clothes. She has almost finished packing when she turns to him and looks him in the eyes. “I need to go downstairs, Tobias. Can you pack some underwire in your bag?” He proudly smiled at his mother as she walked out of his room and downstairs. He had put all his underwear in the bag and walked out of his room to get some things from the living room. As he came back upstairs into his bedroom, Andrea walked out with a backpack over her shoulder. “What are you doing in my room?” said Tobias. Andrea smiled at him. "Sorry, I'm just looking for you. Are you looking forward to traveling and visiting our aunt? It will surely be fun for you to play with Sam. He is probably four now, I think," Andrea said. Tobias became irritated by her foolish comments. "Why would I play with a baby? That is four. I'm a big kid,” said Tobias. “Yeah, he's four, but you are no taller than he is and don't look much older. With the right clothes, you can easily be mistaken for a 4-year-old little bedwetter you are. Mom should have bought diapers for you.” said Andrea. Tobias felt his face turn red as she threw humiliating words at him. Despite his attempts to protest and set her straight, she continued with her hurtful remarks as he walked by and slammed his door. Dinner was a bit sad. Andrea had been a lousy sister that day, and Dad was leaving for a work trip. The dinner felt slow, and time seemed to drag on. After going to the bathroom to brush his teeth and quickly visit the toilet, he returned to his room feeling a little unsettled. His mother was sitting on the bed, waiting for him. “Remember our discussion about protection?” said his mom. His eyes bulged, and his face turned red as he confidently approached his mother. “Mom, please, I don't want to wear it. Babies like Sam use diapers, not big kids,” he told his mom. His mother becomes irritated and drags him to the bed, but she offers him a warm smile before speaking. “Listen, first of all, it's not a diaper; it's a pull-up. Second, I don't have any more bed covers as they're not dry after all the wetting. Third, waking up in a wet pull-up is better than waking up in a wet bed. So, please take off your clothes and let me help you. If you're good, I'll let you watch some more TV in your bed.” said his mom. Tobias started to take off his shirt and pants, but he got a little slower when it came to his underwear; his lust was not in him. His mother gently helped him take it off. She found a white pull-up with some Paw Patrol drawings at the front. She opened it so Tobias could put his feet into it. She dragged the pull-up until it was in its place and checked that everything was in its place. He looked down and saw the soft but thick pull-up between his legs, which made keeping his feet together more challenging due to his spread-apart legs. Looking at the pull-up, he saw the paw patrol in the front. He thought it was better than diapers. His mother walked to his drawer to get a pajama top and pants. Suddenly, Tobias heard a familiar laugh behind him. He closed his eyes in shame and turned to see Andrea entering. “Now, have you seen? Mom followed my advice and put the little toddler back in a diaper.” As Andrea patted his back, Tobias blushed with embarrassment. His mom handed Tobias his pajamas and gave Andrea a stern look. “Now listen, Andrea. Tobias' doctor suggested using some protection. It's not a diaper; it's a pull-up. So let your brother be," said their mom. Andrea smiled with pride as she walked out. She started to talk silently: “The little brat is already back in his diaper. This will make my plan a lot easier. He ruined my summer, but my revenge will be satisfying. I need to talk to my cousin Sofia. I'm not finished with Tobias yet. she said as she walked to her room. Tobias' mother kissed him and walked out of his room. Tobias took his clothes on. Feeling something between his legs was strange, and he made a little bowel in the front. He watched some TV and, after a while, fell asleep. Tobias wakes to his mother's hands touching him. His eyes open to see his mother's warm smile. "Good, you're up, and you're not wet. I'm so proud of you." his mom said. He was about to leave bed, but his mother stopped him. Before she spoke, her face looked a little concerned. "Hey there, since it's still early, you'll probably doze off in the car because we have a long drive ahead. Please keep your pull-up diaper on while we're driving, just in case you have an accident. It would be very tiring for me if there were any accidents in the car while we're on the road." said his mom. Tobias's face became red with sadness. "Keep my pull-ups on? But I don't wet myself at day?" he said in frustration. His mom looked a little concerned before she looked down. He started to feel guilty. "Okay, Mom. I will wear the pull-up diaper for you." Her face smiled back at him with pride. "You are amazing for being so considerate of others. Your selflessness is admirable, and I hope your sister can learn from your example. From you. Now take your bag to the garage." said his mother. Tobias's mother excused herself from the room as he put on his pants over the pull-up diaper. Putting on his pants proved challenging, resulting in a slight bulge in the front and a curve in the back. To conceal the diaper, he put on a hoodie and picked up his bag before heading towards the car in the garage. As he stooped to set down his bag, a familiar and unexpected voice broke the silence—Andrea's voice. "Stop right there," she said as her steps came closer. As she crept up behind him, he could feel the warmth of her breath on the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Every step she took seemed to echo in the silence as he anxiously wondered what she was after. Her hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, as it reached out to touch him. She paused before him, gently raising his chin with her index finger while fixing him with a stern gaze. "I think it's wise for the baby to have his diaper on." His heart races as she stares into his eyes sternly. He becomes so afraid that he tenses up and wets his pull-up. His eyes widen with fear as the pull-up starts to swell. It was the most terrifying feeling he had ever felt. Andrea laughs at him and looks down at him with contempt. "Looks like someone needs a diaper change. It seems like you've wet your diaper. Let's go find Mom and get you changed." As they left the garage, her infectious laughter filled the air, intertwining with their footsteps. Tobias felt his heart racing with fear as they approached their mother. Andrea hid her smile and looked concerned as she glanced at her mother. "Excuse me, Mom, but Tobias had an accident, and I believe he needs a diaper change," Andrea said with a concerned expression as she looked at her mother. Their mother's face looked concerned at Tobias before she bent down to her knees, her hand stroking over his hair. "Common little one, let's change that diaper." Tobias's expression soured as a wave of embarrassment washed over him. His mother mentioned the word "diapers" instead of "pull-ups" as she gently took his hand and guided him back to his room. Once there, she swiftly removed his pants and pull-up diaper, leaving Tobias feeling utterly mortified and unable to speak a single word. She quickly swapped out the used pull-up for a fresh one and efficiently helped him back into his clothes. Before leaving, she kissed his cheek tenderly, gazing at him with love. "It's alright, little one; there's no need to feel embarrassed. Now, let's get on our way." his mother said. As she gracefully exited the room, he was left standing there, feeling the weight of humiliation from the recent events. He reached out to switch off the light before going downstairs for a quick breakfast. The morning meal was hurried, and they soon stood inside the garage. As Tobias was about to settle into the car, his sister Andrea looked at their mother. "Mom, maybe we should consider using Tobias's old car seat for the upcoming long drive. You know there have been a lot of police checks lately, especially after that terrible accident involving the child who wasn't properly secured in their seat. Even though Tobias is eight years old, he's still on the shorter side. I want to make sure he's safe, and of course, I'm also concerned about your license, Mom," Andrea said with a worried expression as she looked at her mother. Tobias' eyes got more extensive, and his face became red. "No, Mom, you can't be serious!" His mother gazed at him with quiet intensity. Afterward, she shifted her gaze back to Andrea, and her hand gently caressed Andrea's skin. "You're completely right, Andrea. I hadn't considered that. You take such good care of your brother. I'm worried about your father traveling. I'm grateful to have you, Andrea, to care for things." Their mother left the car and found Tobias's old car seat. She opened his door and looked at Tobias. As his mother hooked up the seat, he shamed out of the car. His sister smiled evilly at Tobias as their mother walked out. Without asking, she lifted Tobias, put him in his child's seat, fastened him with a belt, and fiddled with the car door before she closed it. She sighed a little and leaned into the driver's door. "I'm sorry. I need to visit the bathroom. Just stay; I won't be long." As she quickly vanished from sight, Andrea looked at Tobias with pride. She left the car and opened the trunk to find something, Tobias thought. She came back and sat down as he looked sternly at her. "Now, don't give me that look, Tobias. You know it's important to ensure that babies are securely strapped into their car seats," his sister teased him. As Tobias was on the verge of responding, his mother arrived. Opting for silence, he gazed out the window as they departed from the garage. The morning sun shone warmly on the windowpanes as the car pulled away. As they continued their journey, a significant distance had been covered when Tobias's eyes slowly opened. He had nodded off and fallen asleep during the drive. Beside him lay a bottle of water and something to eat. His mom smiled back at him from the mirror. "Good morning! Did you have a restful sleep? I quickly stopped to pick up some refreshing drinks and something to eat for you. We'll be reaching our destination in no time now." said his mother. As he started to wake up, he noted something wasn't right; he had wet himself again. The pull-up had swelled up in the front, and it didn't get any better. He needed to pee. He tried to be calm, but it got more difficult. The feeling of having to go to the bathroom began to push more and more. "Mom, I need to go to the bathroom." His mom glanced at him in the mirror and replied. "I apologize, but I can't pull over right now. We're expected to reach our destination in fifteen minutes. You're more than capable of managing that," his mother reassured him. Tobias sat uneasily in his seat, attempting to calm his nerves. Despite his efforts, he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Through his struggle, he noticed Andrea casting glances in his direction, adding to his discomfort. Her smile appeared mocking before she spoke. "You say you're a big boy, Tobias, so it shouldn't be a problem to hold on?" said Andrea with a big smile. As he sat there restlessly, time felt like an eternity. When his mother finally drove up a familiar driveway and stopped the car, the pressure was so great that he began to get desperate. His mother opened the car door and saw her sister waiting for them at the entrance. They met and hugged each other while Tobias sat desperately waiting for the car door to open. He repeatedly tried to open it, but the child lock was on. Frustration built up within him as he observed his mother chatting and laughing with her sister while he sat suffering. His face turned red, and his body froze when he realized the battle was lost. He desperately tried to hold it in, but it was useless. The sluices opened, and the pee filled his diaper, which swelled as much as possible, but it just continued to flow. When his nightmare was finally over, another one began. It started leaking down his side and into his pants as his aunt opened the door to greet him. When his aunt saw Tobias, her eyes widened, and his face turned red with embarrassment. There he sat, strapped in a child seat, and had just wet himself so much that his pants were now soaked. His aunt changed her gaze to slightly mocking before her voice came. "Hi, Tobias. You haven't changed a bit. I thought you had become a big boy now," she said and looked at her sister curiously. "Tobias seems to have not grown at all. I believe putting him back in a child's seat was wise. He looks like he could be as old as my Sam. I was surprised to learn that he had started wearing diapers again, which I already see has leaked through his diaper. You know, sis, when you have to put them back in diapers, you must choose a thick and long-lasting option." said his aunt to her sister. Tobias's aunt's words stung his pride, and he felt embarrassed. His aunt helped him leave the car seat while his mother approached and leaned down. She saw tears starting to come down from his eyes. Her finger wiped them away before she hugged Tobias and looked him warmly in the eyes. "Now, let's go inside, remove this wet diaper, and find clean clothes." his mother said.

Looking for Abdl friends in KC! 22 male! I’ve been into Abdl for five years! I’m excited to make real friends in this community!

“Do I have to take them down myself, little girl?” I hate it when my girlfriend calls me that! Yes, I’m six inches shorter. Yes, she’s eight years older. Yes, she’s the one in charge in our relationship, and yes, this whole domestic discipline thing had all been my idea three years ago, but I’m 30 and Not. A. Little! Girl! Dammit! But all I did instead was whine, “Not here. Please? I’m sorry. Can’t we just wait until we get home?” “Daphne,” Mary said, “this is not up for discussion. Besides, Brenna has seen plenty of bare bottoms spanked, including yours.” I glared at Brenna. We knew her through a local Fetlife group. Sometimes we did just plain vanilla stuff with her, like regular friends, like today, when she’d asked us for help planting trees in her yard. Mary has the green thumb. I hate yard work. “Bare? Can’t it just be over my shorts?” You’d think I’d have gotten used to being spanked, what with not a week going by when I wasn’t, but I never had, which I guess is the point. I looked at Brenna, who was smiling approvingly from the couch. Mary had pulled a kitchen chair into the living room and sat down. “Did your shorts make a rude comment to Brenna? Did your undies? So why would I spank those,” Mary asked me in her stern voice, the one she saves for when she’s talking to me like I’m a naughty little kid. “No,” I mumbled. I’d learned the hard way that there is no such thing as a rhetorical question when I’m in trouble. Mary reached out and grabbed me by the waistband of my innocent shorts and pulled me closer. None of this would have happened if Brenna had just been grateful we were over there helping in the first place. So I’m not Ma Nature - did it really matter if the hole wasn’t exactly fifteen inches deep? Of course, I do have a tendency to kill houseplants, even succulents. But anyway, she was harping on it, and I got irritated and said, “Then why don’t you just do it yourself, dammit?” I’m not sure if I’d have been in so much trouble if I hadn’t added the ‘dammit.’ At least I didn’t interfere while Mary popped the button on my shorts and whisked them, along with my panties, down to me ankles. “How did you get so dirty, anyway,” Daphne asked. “Not like you were putting that much effort into it.” I didn’t need to respond because Mary easily tossed me over her knee. My hands were on the floor, but my feet were not, leaving my butt hanging there. “Anything to say, Daphne,” Mary asked as she rubbed my butt. “I’m really sorry?” “Not as sorry as you will be.” That little rub is all I ever get for a warm up. Mary believes spankings are best delivered hard and fast, and within ten second she’d probably spanked me thirty times. This all started as a relationship with spanking involved, a little role play and bedroom fun. I even spanked her a couple times, though neither of us liked it. Eventually, I said I wanted it to be more than roleplay. I wanted it to be our lifestyle. I shortly thereafter found out just how many issues Mary had with my behavior and how much she’d been wanting to fix them for a while by then. But I wasn’t thinking about the time she had needed to spank me three times in one day. I was thinking about the spanking she was giving me right then. Mary is thorough in everything she does, and a creature of habit. She always starts out spanking me seemingly at random, no order to which side she wails on or how many. She likes to make sure I can’t anticipate anything. I lay there doing my best to hold still and be quiet, trying to keep my eyes closed and pretend Brenna wasn’t there, probably smiling. Only when my butt is a dark pink from top to sit spots does Mary really get going. As she says, this is when the real spanking starts. She stopped assaulting my butt and said, “Hand me the paddle, Daphne.” I freakin’ hate the thing. It’s small, heavy, and has four holes in it. She got it specifically to keep in her purse. She could just use her hairbrush when she disciplines me away from home (dressing rooms are the worst - everyone can hear!), but no, she says knowing she has a just-for-spanking implement with her at all times does a better job reminding me to behave. I pick it up with my left hand and reach behind me to give it to her. She takes it, then takes my arm and pins it behind my back. I’m a wiggler when she uses that thing. She’s like a freakin’ ninja with it. Equal parts thuddy and stingy, she paddles as fast as she hand spanks, but in a tight pattern. Up and down, each spank overlapping with the one before it, in a tight row, then shifting over and working a line from top to sit spot again. She never makes it from one side to the other but that I go from grunts to sobs to tears. Every. Damn. Time. The small paddle bounces off my bottom so fast I don’t even feel the individual spanks anymore. It’s all one swollen throb. She’s gentle, by comparison, with my thighs, but before she’s done with those ten spanks to the tender backs of my legs, I frantically promise, “I’m sorry! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” Mary finished the last spank, and I lay over limp over her soft lap, big tears falling, and my nose running. It takes me a few seconds to realize Mary is rubbing my back, like she always does after a hard spanking, shushing me gently. When I’m ready, I start to get up, and Mary helps me so that I’m sitting on her lap, my crimson bottom aching when I do, and crying into her shirt as she calms me. “It’s okay, little girl,” she coos to me, “All is forgiven.” She kisses my temple. “Let it all out. That’s my brave girl.” When I get myself under control, though still struggling with the occasional sob and needing badly to blow my nose, she helps me off her lap. “What do you say to Brenna,” Mary asked. I don’t know when I kicked off my shorts and panties, nor do I care. I shuffled over to Brenna. “I’m sorry for being rude,” I said. “I forgive you,” she says, opening her arms. Brenna is big woman, and I all but collapse into her softness. I do like her, even though she has a way of bringing out the brat in me, but that brat never seems to be that far away. I stand between her big thighs, and she rubs my butt with one hand while she hugs me with the other. I’m grateful she does because I’m not allowed to rub. “Mary, why don’t you go take her to wash her face, and I’ll get lunch ready,” Brenna suggests. “Can I have my shorts back,” I ask meekly. “After lunch,” Mary says, holding out her hand. I take it. I like Mary’s hands. I also know she’s gonna lift me up and seat me on the cold vanity, and that it’s gonna feel good for about five seconds then feel clammy and hard. After lunch, I’m for sure gonna dig those holes right, and without a world of complaint.

I'm new to all this, but here's a story that actually is based on another story that I read. It stuck in my mind, and I started to develop the story further in my head, coming to the point where I hade to start writing things down. A huge thanks to the author of the original Swedish story "Ella och Mormor". I sincerely hope that it's okej for me to take off where you started! As I'm not a native speaker in English, so there might be a few misspelled words and confused sentence construction - but I hope it's readable anyway. All comments and suggestions are welcome. ___ Part 1 - An unexpected welcome Ella woke early to the sun streaming through her window and past the curtains. Waking up with the sun in her eyes wasn't exactly her favourite thing, but it looked like it was going to be a really nice and sunny summers day, so it was still hard to get annoyed. The fact that she woke up so early didn't matter much either, because today she was going to visit her grandmother, and if you didn't want to arrive too late, you'd have to leave quite early. Ella and her grandmother had a bit of a tradition going, that went back as far as Ella could remember - her going to Grandma's for a few weeks during the summer holidays. Even though it was now two or three years since the last time it happened, it could still be considered a bit of a tradition. Couldn't it? She had packed everything she could possibly need for a few summery weeks away from home. In the bag were shorts, tank tops, thicker sweaters for the evening, bikinis, jeans, panties and bras as well as a lot of other things you might need in the form of toiletry bags, chargers etc etc. The last thing she packed was her old pyjamas. Although the pajamas were a bit worn and far too childish for her age, it was still tradition for her to have them at grandma's. She had received the pajamas as a birthday present quite a few years ago, and already in those days it might have been a little too childish for her, with cute flowers on the pants and with the matching pink tank top. But thanks to the fact that Ella was quite slim, the pyjamas still fit just fine, even though she had become a bit more developed around the bum and breasts in recent years. It was just a little tighter, and the legs were maybe a bit short. As everything she'd seen indicated that it would become a hot day, and traveling by bus require quite comfortable clothes, Ella put on a pair of denim shorts and a black tight top. With her new sandals on her feet, she hugged her parents goodbye, picked up her bag and walked away with tense anticipation down towards the bus that would take her the first bit of the journey to grandma's. Grandma lived in a big house by the sea, with only a few old summer cottages nearby. It was maybe a twenty minute drive to the nearest supermarket and another twenty to the nearest town. There, in the house by the sea, Ella had played with the other children of the summer guests, bathed and cycled a few weeks a year, for as long as she could remember. The dust from the dirt road and the smell of juice and grandma's cinnamon buns were in her memory mixed with doing puzzles and playing cards in front of the fireplace, on rainy days. The journey to Grandma's is quite long and requires at least two changes of busses. First from her own local bus down at the bus terminal to a long-distance bus across the country, and then again to a smaller local bus which, for the last hour, has slowly been making its way out to the coast and Grandma's. She is practically alone on the last bus, which meanders through the farms and milk pallets of the coastal landscape. Ella, who is a bit of a dreamer, has let her mind wander off to all the summers she's travelled this road to the coast. She fondly remembers all the weeks spent in the big house by the sea. How grandma usually really spoils her with good food and warm care. She is really looking forward to this. When the bus finally stops at her destination and it's time to get off, the clock has already begun to approach dinner time. Grandmother stands at the bus stop waiting and happily greets her grandchild with a big hug. -Hey Ella, how nice to see you again and how big you've become, grandma laughs happily. Did the bus trip go well? -Hey grandma! Yes, it did, but it's a bit boring on such a long bus ride! - Well, luckily then, that you won't have to get back on it for a few weeks! laughs grandma. She takes Ella's bag in one hand and takes Ella herself in an arm hook with the other. They chat as they walk the old gravel road between the fields up towards grandma's house. Grandma pointing out which cottages are rented out and when the various summer guests are expected to arrive. - So there might be one or two other children to play with, Grandma winks. -Play? laughs Ella. It had been a while since I played with the other children around here. But maybe there is someone to go swimming or sunbathing with? The house is big and red with white knots, and the garden looks almost exactly as Ella remembers it. The hammock and the lilac arbor. The flagpole. The old guesthouse. Everything is where it should be, and nothing seems to have changed in the years since she was last here. The hum of the bumblebees from the lilacs is almost hypnotic. The garden opens up down towards the sea, which is only about hundred meters away, but is otherwise surrounded by a hedge towards the road and the forest on the other last side. Grandma is leading the way up the stairs to the front porch and opens the door with a creak. When they enter, she immediately carries Ella's bag into the guest room, and sets it up on the stool by the wall and opens it. Ella remains standing on the glass porch and admires the view out towards the sea, and only in the corner of her eye sences how grandma starts unpacking Ella's things and, as usual, sorts them into the second drawer in the large chest of drawers. Ella wakes up from her reverie and takes off her sandals, which she places in the shoe rack in the hall. - It's just as well to change into your nightwear right now, isn't it, Ella, darling?, grandmother shouts out towards the hall. -Traditions are meant to be kept, she also adds with a small laugh. Ella comes in and accepts the pajamas that Grandma offers her and starts unbuttoning the shorts while Grandma goes out and starts rummaging through one of the closets in the hall. Ella glances a little tensely out towards the hall and listens. It thumps a bit like cupboards and drawers being opened and closed, and then there's a bit of just about too familiar rustling. Traditions are meant to be kept, Ella quotes in her head, while there is a churning feeling in her stomach. She knows exactly what that means. There is one more tradition, which has not yet been mentioned, and it is a little more unusual. Every time Ella has been sleeping over at grandma's, grandma put her in a diaper from the first night on. It is a tradition that Ella has never questioned and which has only continued year after year. At first it was of course because Ella peed the bed and needed it, but unlike at home, she was allowed to wear a diaper all day at grandma's. When she later stopped wetting the bed and thus also stopped wearing diapers at night at home, it only continued at grandma's. Diaper from when first you arrived, and then in the morning if the diaper was dry it was left on, or if it was wet it was changed. The diaper had been wet in the morning on more that one occasion. As recently as three years ago, the "tradition" was still the same. But this time, however, Ella had thought that even grandma would have forgotten about it, or finally realized that she had grown far too big for diapers, and that she wouldn't have to wear them. Ella's musings are interrupted, however, by Grandma coming back into the room and as expected she has a few diapers in one hand and an empty diaper package, which says Luvs and a big number six, in the other. - There weren't many left in the package, Ella, darling. But there's still enough for one now, and then we'll see if we have to change to a new one for the night or tomorrow morning. So, we'll have to make sure to buy new diapers right away tomorrow. -But grandma..., begins Ella in her sweetest tone. Don't you think I'm a little bit to old for that? I mean, at home I haven't had to wear a diaper in years - not even at night - and I don't think I need to here either. - What are you saying?, Grandma laughs. Shall we break the tradition that we've had since you were little? -Yes, so..., Ella tries. -Out of the question! interrupts Grandma. It is the tradition that you are my sweet little granddaughter that I get to spoil when you are here with me, and I don't intend to break that tradition! Stop fooling around now and lie down on the bed and you'll see that you'll feel much better once we get the diaper properly on you. Ella realizes that the race is over. Since she's basically never protested before, it's hardly going to help now. She knows exactly how this will go, because she's been through it so many times before. It's actually rather silly, and almost laughable, she thinks. But at the same time, it's not that much of an issue, but rather a fairly harmless game between her and granny. Plus, it's a bit cozy to be pampered - pun intended. A tingling sensation of tension begins to sprout in her stomach. Ella unbuttons her shorts and lies back on the bed, with her knees up and her feet right on the edge of the bed, as she always used to do. Grandma slowly helps her off with the shorts and panties, folds the shorts and puts them in the suitcase. - I throw these panties in the washer, she says and smiles at Ella. It's not like you'll be using that many panties during these weeks, anyway. Then everything goes by the usual routine. A routine which in and of itself has not been carried out for several years, but one which they are both very familiar with and which over the years has turned more and more into a ritual. Ella lifts her bottom a little, so Grandma can insert the diaper under her and hold out the tapes on the sides, after which Ella puts her bottom down again and feels a distantly familiar sensation of the fluffy diaper rustling under her bottom. Grandma quietly hums a song to herself while she makes sure the diaper fits correctly. Then she dusts her with a little baby powder, which spreads a familiar, lightly perfumed scent in the room, and folds up the front of the diaper. She has to stretch the sides a fair bit to be able to attach the tapes to the front of the diaper, but after a few adjustments she is satisfied and presses the tapes down with her thumbs. -These diapers are really starting to get a bit tight on you, now that you've gotten a little bigger. - Yes, I've tried to tell you that I've grown a little too old, Ella says with a shy smile. -Don't try, young girl. You won't get away that easily. Tomorrow, we'll buy you a bit bigger diapers, Grandma says, glancing at the six-pack, which now only contains two diapers. The old ones we have left in the other drawer will probably be best left in reserve. Ella knows which diapers are in reserve. The last time she was here, they ran out of the usual diapers, and then Ella had to have one of the old reserves for the last evening and morning. They are the old school type with a rectangular separate diaper and a PVC tie-on that are tied at the sides. Then grandma suddenly pulls the old pyjama pants over her feet, and then she has to lift her bottom again so they can be pulled into place over the diaper. As Ella sits up on the edge of the bed, Grandma pulls the black top over her head, quickly replacing it with the pink tank top that belongs to the pyjamas, before turning and walking out towards the kitchen. In her hand she has Ella's panties, which are to be sent to the laundry basket. It's probably the last time I'll see a pair of panties for a couple of weeks, Ella thinks to herself. She stands up and glances quickly at the image in the mirror that hangs over the old dresser in the guest room, and sure enough, you can just about perceive the diaper's bulge under the pyjama pants, both in front and back. Ella moves a little and pulls the edge of the diaper a little, so that it fits better and more like she remembers. Maybe time for new pyjamas? Out in the kitchen, it is now time to start cooking and grandma is rattling pots and ladles. Ella carefully paws her way out into the kitchen and is a little surprised at how familiar everything feels, even though she hasn't experienced it in years. The wooden floor underfoot. The creak from the stairs. The slightly tight and too short pyjama. The diaper that is hugging her between her legs and up over the bum. The diaper doesn't quite reach the lower part of her back, as she remembers it used to, as it stops just above her buttocks, but that's probably because she got a little too big. - Well, there you are, says grandmother. I thought you were stuck in front of that mirror, as usual. If you cut the vegetables there, on the cutting board there - don't cut yourself on the knife, it's sharp - then I'll get started on the meat. -Of course, grandma, Ella answers and starts chopping onions and cutting carrots. The bench is a little high and she almost has to stand on tiptoe to be able to cut the vegetables the right way. But soon everything is in the pot and grandma brings a big glass of lemonade for Ella and a cup of coffee for herself. Thirty minutes, lots of talking and laughing, and two more glasses of lemonade later, dinner is ready and they sit down at the table. Grandma starts with the usual questioning: "how's school going?", "have you met a guy, yet?" and "What are your plans for the future?" and Ella is doing her best to balance being honest with her grandmother but not too honest to the point of worrying her, while she's chomping down on a hearty portion of the meat stew and has almost completely forgotten about the diaper. But after another half hour of eating and talking, when Ella leans back full and satisfied, she feels how all that lemonade is starting to make her feel a bit needy. She knew this moment would come. She knows after her first attempt to persuade grandma that she shouldn't need to wear a diaper, that there's no point in excusing herself to go to the toilet. So, she instead tries to relax the way she usually does here. It's a bit difficult if you're not used to doing it at the dinner table, in the middle of a conversation. But three glasses of lamonade is soon doing it's magic and she feels the warm pee starting to seep out. She is utterly surprised by how easy and natural it is to pee herself at grandma's house. She feels the vaguely familiar feeling like so many times before here, how the diaper fills up and how it swells a little between the legs and up towards the bum. They continue talking for a good while before Grandma glances at the clock and exclaims in surprise: - Oh, look at how the time flies, it's almost 11 pm! You who have had such a long journey are probably tired and want to sleep. - Yes, the journey out here doesn't get shorter just because you're older, Ella says and yawns a little. -Then we'll put this away and then it's probably time for good night, says grandma and gets up. Together they clean the table and then grandma arranges the food to go back into the fridge, while it is Ella's job to clear the dishwasher. When she reaches up to put a couple of cups on a shelf, Grandma sees that there is a small dark spot on the back of Ella's butt, just to the right of where the diaper is barely visible under the fabric. - Oh no, Ella, I think we've hade a little leak, she says putting a hand on the back of the diaper judging the amount of leakage. Yes, it has leaked. That's just another sign that we need to buy slightly bigger diapers. But it would seem it was lucky that we put one on you? Let's take the trousers off so we can wash them during the night. It doesn't matter if you go around here with just your nappy on. Ella blushes deeply. She hadn't noticed herself that she'd leaked a little. It could only be a few drops, she thinks, but it's still a bit embarrassing, and god how small she feels when grandma is the one who discovers that she's peed herself, and that it's leaked. Grandma helps her off with the pajama pants, which Ella obediently steps out of. - Go brush your teeth while I turn on the washing machine, she says while giving Ella a pat on the back of the diaper. - Grandma! complains Ella, trying to wave grandma's hand away. But she takes her toiletry kit from her bag and paws off to the large bathroom on the ground floor. The sensation of the diaper is even bigger now that she has nothing on over it. It kind of slides down a little over the butt and hangs a little heavily between the legs. The bathroom is covered with old green tiles and a black and white checkered floor. A large clawfoot tub and modern shower is at one end and a large dresser with mirror and sink at the other. She turns to the image in the large mirror over the sink that shows the entire bathroom in all its glory, and stops at the first sight. Ella barely recognizes herself. She doesn't look her age at all, standing in a childish tank top and with a clearly wet baby diaper sagging between her legs. Ella puts toothpaste on the brush and starts brushing, after which she turns back to the mirror. She carefully feels the front of the diaper and turns and mirrors her back. She spits out the toothpaste, rinses her mouth and takes two tassels from her toiletry bag. A little wit puts her hair up so that she gets a tassel on each side and reflects herself again. Now she looks even younger, if possible, and knowing that this will make grandma super happy, she leaves the bathroom. Grandma is already waiting in the guest room. She has pulled down the curtians, turned on the bedside lamp and set a small garbage can on the floor next to the door. On the half-folded bedspread there is already a pack of wet wipes, a can of powder and a new dry diaper folded up. - OH, but Ella, you're so cute with tassels in your hair, exclaims grandma while giving Ella a short hug. She puts her hands on Ella's shoulders and continues: You are just as sweet as you have always been to me. It's not that big of a deal wearing diapers at grandma's, as long as only we know, is it? - No, maybe it isn't? It actually felt quite nice not having to run to the toilet in the middle of dinner. - How nice that you feel that way, Ella, darling. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. Lay down on the bed now and we'll make sure to get the night diaper on before you jump into bed. This thing about night diapers versus day diapers is something that Ella has only heard here at grandma's house. The night nappy has always been a real tape nappy, while the day nappy has varied quite a bit over the years. Sometimes it has been pullups and sometimes the same tape diaper as at night. But at night it has always been a tape diaper. Preferably the thickest one grandma could find. Ella lies down on the bed again with her knees up and her heels at the edge of the bed, and grandma habitually pulls of the tapes to take off her diaper, before throwing it in the trash. Ella yawns again and has to lift her bottom a little, all the while getting a little cold in her neither parts when the diaper is taken away. Grandma cleanses her thoroughly with wet wipes and then it's time again for Ella to lift her bottom, the baby powder is sprinkled and spreads its faintly perfumed scent, and finally the dry diaper tapes is attached to the front of the diaper. Granny starts looking for the pyjama pants with her eyes before she seems to remember that they are in the washing machine. - The pants are in the machine, do you want panties over the diaper or would you rather sleep with it as it is? - I can sleep in just the diaper and a shirt, Ella answered. It's quite hot. - It will be fine, and then the trousers will be clean and dry by tomorrow morning. By the way, I found this old box of things when I was cleaning, Grandma says, reaching for a box next to the bed. It's your old stuff from when you were smaller and slept here. In the box is a doll, toys, teddy bears and all sorts of things that little girls like to play with. Grandma picks up piece after piece and talks away about what Ella liked and didn't like, what her favourites were and where she bought one thing and another. Finally, she finds a semi-transparent plastic jar from which a small pink pacifier falls out. - I remember that one, says Ella and reaches for the pacifier, but grandma is faster. - It's been a really long time since you stopped using these, says grandma. She still holds the pacifier out of Ella's reach and looks at her meaningfully. - It's been a long time since I stopped wearing diapers too, Ella counters quickly and laughs a little. - You're right about that, Grandma replies and gives her the pacifier. Besides, it goes quite nice with the tassels, the tank top and the cute diaper. Ella accepts the pacifier, looks at it thoughtfully for a few moments and then nimbly puts it in her mouth. The feeling is almost overwhelming but not completely unfamiliar and certainly not unpleasant. The rubber against the palate and the shield against the lips is surprisingly pleasant. She wiggles it back and forth in her mouth a few times before she finds the accustomed movements. She smiles big at grandma behind the pacifier before taking it out and giving it back. Grandma puts the pacifier on the bedside table. -No you little girl, now it really is time for you to sleep. She hugs Ella goodnight before hugging her and kissing her on the forehead. -Sleep well, Ella, see you tomorrow. -Good night grandma. Grandma turns off the light and walks out the door, but leaves a small gap ajar so that the light of the small hall lamp can find its way into the corner of the room. Ella turns around and accidentally puts a hand on the diaper. The dry warmth between the legs and up over her bottom feels indescribably safe and familiar. She runs her finger along the edge of the diaper and slowly drifts off to sleep with a big smile on her face.

This story has been on hiatus for but while I deal with ... life. But I'm picking it up again and getting back to more regular updates, so I figured I may as well start sharing it here as well. I've been a part of the Invader Zim fandom for a while, and there's barely any ABDL content there, so I had to fix that. Chapter 1: Once is an Accident ... i. “GAHHH!! FUCK YOU, GIR!!!!” The shout from the kitchen had Dib launching himself off the couch and sliding to a halt on the tile in his socks in no time flat. He was greeted with the sight of pink milkshake over every conceivable surface; the ceiling, the counter, the walls, the table, and all over both a thoroughly amused GIR and a very angry Zim. “Shit, Zim,” Dib groaned. “I told you messing with your PAK in the kitchen was a bad idea.” Zim’s PAK sat open on the kitchen table, half dismantled from Zim’s attempt at installing an upgrade. Zim’s body seemed to have shielded it slightly, but it was still spattered with sticky pink liquid. “I didn’t think he was gonna start the blender with the top off!! ” Zim shouted, aggravated, as he rushed to mop up the mess with his shirt before it seeped too far into his PAK. “I can’t put it back on like this!!” Dib checked his watch. He’d been keeping a countdown to make sure Zim’s PAK wasn’t off for longer than the ten minute maximum. “We’ve got eight minutes before it becomes a problem. GIR —” He looked over at the robot, who was currently trying to lick milkshake out of the blender, “— start cleaning up the kitchen.” GIR saluted and gave a shrill, “Okie dokie!!!” before dashing off to grab some towels. “My life is starting to flash before my eyes, Dib!!!” Zim whined as Dib grabbed a handful of napkins and briefly ran them under the faucet. “We’ve still got time, you fucking drama queen,” Dib admonished, shoving a the napkins at Zim. “Start cleaning up with those, and I’ll follow with some rubbing alcohol to make sure everything’s dry before you plug it back in.” Zim nodded and they quickly got to work. It wasn’t long before the tight space made their tag team effort more difficult than Dib had planned, however, especially as Zim’s coordination rapidly spiraled downwards. After watching him smear strawberry chunks around for an agonizing thirty seconds, Dib finally pushed his hands aside. “We’ve got five minutes,” Dib warned. “Let me finish this and you just try to stay conscious.” Zim’s skin was an ashy shade of green and his eyes were glassy and unfocused. Even when all he had to do was sit still, he was visibly trembling. “I don’t feel so good, Dib,” he whispered hoarsely. “I know, bug, but just hang in there.” Despite the tension in the air, Dib tried harder than ever to maintain a calm demeanor, reassuring Zim in dulcet tones while scrubbing away at the sticky goo spattered all over. Behind him, he could hear GIR mostly pushing the rest of the disaster around, and he was positive he was going to need to clean that up later, as well. As the minutes ticked down, Dib’s anxiety rose like a tsunami, threatening to crash down on him every time Zim moaned in discomfort. He was down to his last minute before he knew it, and there was still a cluster of wires he had yet to clean. It was just out of reach and if he had more than sixty seconds left, he would have grabbed a cotton swab to finish cleaning them off. As it was, he twisted a napkin to give it a bit of rigidity, and blindly stuffed it in while checking his watch. “Shit.” Thirty seconds left. He shook his head and pulled his makeshift cleaning device back out. “This’ll have to do, Zim.” He leaned over and hauled Zim up onto his lap. The poor little Irken was barely even responding at this point. With seconds to spare, Dib lifted the PAK to Zim’s back and the cables shot out to reconnect with the ports on Zim’s back. Zim’s eyelids fluttered and he groaned incomprehensibly, but as he squinted and rubbed his eyes, the color was beginning to return to his cheeks. “You feeling alright?” Dib asked nervously. That last spill had been worryingly close to an awful lot of connections. Zim nodded, sliding off Dib’s lap and onto the floor. He did a couple toe touches, stretched his arms, and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Yep. Everything seems to be in or—” A sudden zap of electricity made his body convulse and PAK spark. Dib watched in silent horror as Zim suddenly went limp and fell to the floor, antennae twitching twice before falling still. Before a single coherent thought could pass through Dib’s head, he jumped up and grabbed the silicone pot holders from the counter and used them to turn Zim onto his side. The Irken didn’t seem to be breathing, but it was difficult to tell for sure. Dib retrieved his phone from his pocket and held it under Zim’s mouth, waiting for it to fog up. When it didn’t, a sick knot of realization began to form in Dib’s belly. He had no idea how to give an alien CPR. He had a vague idea of Zim’s internal structure, but the question of how to restart things had simply never come up. And when even successful human CPR led to a few broken ribs, he was leery of injuring Zim further. “Stand clear.” The robotic, monotone voice sent Dib scurrying backwards in a panic. Had Zim’s PAK really just spoken ??? Was it allowed to do that on its own?? That question certainly hadn’t ever cropped up before in all the years they’d known each other. Another jolt of electricity arced between Zim’s antennae, making his muscles twitch and jerk for a few painfully slow seconds before he was still once more. Dib leaned forward, heart hammering in his chest and breath stuck in his throat. “Zim?” he whispered, reaching out with a shaking hand. Zim’s face screwed up and he let out a low groan before opening his bleary eyes. “S-sugar …” he mumbled. Dib fell forwards and hugged him tightly. “Oh thank fuck!! I thought you died!!” “Ow … I did ,” Zim grumbled. Dib sat up so fast he saw stars. “ What‽‽ ” Zim laboriously pushed himself up into a sitting position and rubbed his temples. “Well, I’m not dead now, idiot. My systems reset themselves,” he said thickly. “Death is rarely a permanent state, Dibby.” “God forbid there be a normal day in this household,” Dib sighed as GIR scooted by on a towel, oblivious and smearing pink stickiness across everything in his wake. Zim groaned and rubbed his head. “Getting reset depletes sugar reserves, so I’m going to need you to get me off this floor and grab me a snack before I keel over again.” Zim still seemed too weak to properly hold on to anything, so Dib lifted him in a bridal carry and carefully walked him to the couch. He set Zim down, propped up against the pillows, and gently touched a hand to Zim’s cheek. His skin was clammy and slightly pale, but at least he was obviously alive. “Are you gonna be alright?” Dib asked worriedly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just grab me a glass of Tang and a couple sugar cookies,” Zim replied in much more subdued tones. Dib gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You got it.” He strode into the kitchen, but stopped dead at the edge of the tile. GIR was sprawled out on the floor, attempting to make milkshake angels. Dib sighed, edged around the kitchen, and opened one of the cupboards to fish around for a bucket. Once he’d located one — and dumped out all the junk it contained — he filled it with soap, water, and a bit of rubbing alcohol. GIR did better when the list of steps to complete a task was as small as humanly possible, so mixing the cleaning solution before handing the task off reduced the opportunity for errors. “Alright, you’ve had enough fun,” Dib said irritably, shoving the bucket at a thoroughly unphased GIR. “I don’t care if you strap sponges to your feet or make yourself a towel taco, I just need this mess gone.” “Caaaan dooooo,” GIR yelled, snatching the bucket from him and dashing towards the sponges as soapy water sloshed onto the floor. Dib skirted out of his way and busied himself with grabbing Zim’s requested snack. He returned to the living room with a plate of sugar cookies and Tang in one of GIR’s sippy cups. Zim gave the cup a slightly hard stare, but ultimately shook his head and didn’t question the choice. “So I was thinking,” Dib said as he carefully sat down beside Zim, “we should take it easy for the rest of the day, considering you died for around forty-five seconds. We can just hole up and watch some horror movies, get some soda and kettle corn into you, that sort of thing.” Zim snuggled against Dib, head on his chest. “Works for me. I still feel … Ugh , it’s hard to put into words,” he grumbled, taking a long sip of his drink. “Something feels off, but I can’t explain it.” Dib frowned, numerous worries occupying the back of his brain. “We could take your PAK off again and try to do a more thorough job of cleaning it out?” he offered. “Not right now,” Zim said, squeezing his eyes shut. “If you take too long, it’s going to be that much harder on my body. I’m really not in any shape for that right now.” He nestled in closer, as if proximity to Dib would fix things. “I just …” He looked up at Dib, concern scrawled across his face. “Hold me?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. Dib’s expression softened to one that was very nearly pity. Zim had a habit of being a pain in the ass and prickly more often than not, but he regularly demanded physical comfort whenever he was feeling less than stellar for any reason. “Yeah,” Dib replied gently. “But let me grab you some kettle corn and cocoa, first.” Zim shook his sippy cup and raised his eyebrows. “In a mug?” “In a thermos ,” Dib corrected. “I don’t need you spilling all over the couch when the kitchen is already a disaster.” An hour or so later, as morning spilled into golden autumn afternoon, the kitchen was finally clean and they were midway through one of Dib’s favorite horror movies. Zim sat snuggled under multiple blankets on Dib’s lap with a belly pleasantly full of warm drinks and sugary snacks. His color has finally returned to normal and he was no longer shivering. By all accounts, he was back to normal. Still, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling something was different . As he struggled to pin down exactly what or why , a sudden crescendo of music crashed through the speakers in a cheap jump scare, startling Zim back to the present with a horribly unwelcome jolt. He was suddenly glad that Dib had insisted on giving him all his drinks in containers with a top. He grumbled under his breath, ruffled, before settling back down against Dib, vaguely aware that the space between them felt a bit warmer than it had a minute ago. Beneath him, Dib shifted slightly, froze, then freed his arm from around Zim to blindly feel around under the blankets for a moment before coming to a rest. “Er … Zim?” “What?” Zim asked gruffly, still miffed that the movie had managed to startle him as badly as it did. “Did you lose your phone again? Because I’m not getting up this time.” Dib opened his mouth, let out a sort of strangled sigh, then bit the inside of his cheek, brow furrowed. “Did you … uh. Jesus, there is no easy way to ask this …” He pressed his palm to his forehead before spitting out in a single breath, “ Please tell me you just spilled your cocoa. ” Zim turned and raised an eyebrow, holding up his thermos. “No? Why are you—” As he shifted, he finally felt what Dib was talking about, and his eyes went wider than flying saucers. “ Oh my god , Zim,” Dib groaned, taking him under the arms and lifting him away like a badly behaved cat. As he stood up and the blankets fell away, there was no question what had happened. Both their pants were soaked, along with a sizeable portion of the cushion beneath them. Zim stood in a small puddle, dripping and purple-faced with embarrassment. “How did you not feel that??” Dib asked, more baffled than upset. “Everything was already really warm!” Zim insisted frantically. Dib gave him a look that was equal parts worry and horror. “You didn’t even feel like you had to go??” Zim tossed his arms up in frustration. “Do I look like I’m five?” “I’m not trying to be an ass here, Zim,” Dib insisted, trying to tone down his intensity to something Zim would find less offensive. “I just need to know if you had any idea this was gonna happen, before it happened.” “Of course I—!” Zim stopped mid sentence, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t gotten any of the usual signals. Not so much as a twinge. “I mean, I think … fuck.” He stared down at the puddle around his feet. “I … didn’t feel anything,” he finally admitted in hushed tones. Dib pushed his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. “Shit. Alright. Well, first of all, you’re banned from screwing with your PAK anymore until we sort this out.” Zim shot him a snide expression. “You can’t ban me from fixing my own brain, Dib!” “Until we figure out exactly what went wrong? Yes, I can.” Dib glanced down at his soaked pants with a frown before seeming to give up and start unbuttoning things. “Just take all your clothes off here,” he instructed as he peeled away his wet clothes. “You take everything up to the wash. I’m gonna shower off and run out to the store real quick.” Zim paused in the middle of attempting to pull his socks off, balancing on one foot. “Why are you going to the store?” he asked, suspicious. Dib’s face contorted into something that was somewhere north of innocence and south of pity. Zim scowled back. “Why are you going to the store, Dib ?” he asked, enunciating each word with palpable malice. Dib held up his hands. “It’s just as an ‘in case’ measure, alright?” Zim sucked in a breath and puffed out his chest, blustering and fuming in what Dib could only imagine was very angry Irken. “It was ONE TIME !!!” he finally spat out, incensed. Dib nervously ran a hand through his hair. “Okay … and if it isn’t just one time?” Zim growled something under his breath, fists at his sides. “It might not be related to the issue with your PAK, but if it is, I’d rather be prepared,” Dib said simply. “You’re not putting me in diapers!” Zim snapped. “Fine. No diapers. But I am gonna grab a pack of pull-ups or something, just in case ,” Dib said as he tossed his underwear onto the pile, trying to remain blasé about the whole thing. Which was a difficult thing to pull off while naked and covered in piss. Zim spied Dib’s cock poking out of a thicket of hair and abruptly looked away before he could get distracted. Not to mention, he was vaguely concerned that getting turned on in wet pants might rewire him in an even worse way. He merely crossed his arms and faced away. “I’ll get you some snacks as a consolation,” Dib said as he turned to walk upstairs. “We’re almost out of Fun Dip, right? I’ll get you more of that.” Zim gathered the clothes and blankets and damp cushion with the help of his PAK legs to steady everything. He’d stupidly put his clothes-cleaning contraption upstairs, but at least he’d had the foresight to put it right outside the lift. The stairs were really just for Dib’s benefit. It was the only way the kid got any exercise, some days. Zim pulled aside one of the large speakers beside the TV to reveal the interior of an elevator, and climbed inside with his bundle. He reached the top just as Dib finished hosing himself off in the shower, and got to work loading the machine with all of the damp clothes and blankets. Dib dressed himself in a flash, hurriedly striding towards the stairs before Zim was even finished. “I’ll be back before you know it!” Dib called on his way down. Zim gave only a non-committal grunt. “Text me if you think of anything you want!” “Hmph.” Zim rolled his eyes and slammed the door to the washer shut, irritably poking at the controls until it chimed happily and began chugging away. Zim waited, one antenna perked, until he heard the front door close and lock behind Dib. His human would be gone for at least ten minutes, and ten minutes was all Zim needed to get back inside his PAK and fix this irritating little hiccup once and for all. ii. Dib’s truck rumbled along the road back home, the breeze from the windows making the bags beside him billow and snap. He caught a glimpse of the package contained inside and felt himself blush slightly. Although the situation was embarrassing and slightly worrying when it came to Zim’s overall health, Dib found that he was strangely un-squicked by recent events. Even though Zim had pissed right in his lap, he hadn’t really found the situation all that revolting. If he hadn’t been so shocked at the time, it might have even been a little hot. Zim, caught in an embarrassing situation, dependent on Dib to make things better … Dib shook his head to clear it as he pulled up to the base. He doubted he could get Zim on board with that sort of roleplay. But he could dream, at least. He killed the engine, grabbed his bags, and hopped out of the truck. Scattered leaves blew across his path, catching on the tacky lawn gnomes Zim still insisted stand guard outside. Dib would have been lying if he said he didn’t find Zim’s sense of decor at least a little amusing. He opened the door and stepped inside. “I’m back!” he shouted cheerily, kicking his shoes off. He started towards the stairs, then stopped dead. The whole base was eerily quiet, except for what he’d initially written off as the wind whistling over the roof. But as he stood there, barely breathing, it had begun to sound an awful lot more like sobbing. “ Zim ??” When there was no answer, Dib dropped his bags and raced up the spiraling steps. He came to a screeching halt at the doorway to their bedroom, where Zim was crumped on the floor, sobbing and sitting in a puddle of something that Dib would have bet money wasn’t tears. Nevertheless, Dib rushed over and scooped Zim up, hugging him close. “What’s wrong??” he asked, rubbing the small of Zim’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “I tried to fix it!!” Zim wailed, breath hitching in his throat. “The wires … they were all — hic!! — fused in the wrong spots. I tried to separate them, but … but once I put my PAK back on, it … it shorted out again. And … and when I woke up I — hic!! — I was on the floor and I know I just made it worse!!” Anger swelled in Dib’s chest for a moment, but it was quickly snuffed out by Zim’s obvious upset. There was nothing to be gained by cussing him out for his actions. He was already suffering the consequences. Plus, the sounds he was making were causing Dib heartache like he’d never felt before. All he wanted was to put things right. “It’s gonna be okay,” Dib murmured, hugging him tightly. Zim shook his head, face buried in Dib’s shoulder. “No, it isn’t !! I don’t know what’s wrong but something just isn’t right!!! ” It was hard for Dib to argue. He’d never seen Zim so worked up before. He’d seen him get a little teary over things or sometimes even cry out of frustration, but he’d never dissolved into such a thoroughly inconsolable state before. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can go back to taking it easy, okay?” Dib said softly. Zim took a few shaky breaths in an attempt to get ahold of himself. “Bath,” he finally mumbled, wiping his eyes. Dib was slightly taken aback. Zim usually avoided anything deeper than a puddle like the plague. “I was just gonna let you shower off, but yeah, we can do a bath, if that’s what you want.” He stood up and carried Zim to the bathroom, watching with growing concern as Zim buried his face in the front of his hoodie. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bathtub and turned on the taps, putting his wrist in the stream to gauge the temperature before plugging the drain and gently setting Zim down. “Get settled. I’ll be right back.” Dib made it to the stairs in a few long strides, descending the steps to retrieve two of the bags he’d dropped by the door. On his way back through the bedroom, he tossed one bag onto the bed, then carried the other with him back into the bathroom. He made it back up in time to see Zim adding a hefty amount of bubble bath to the water. “You’re really going all-in on this, huh?” Dib remarked as he put his back against the wall and slid to a sitting position next to the tub. Zim ducked his head nervously. “It smells nice.” Dib leaned on the edge of the tub and reached out to cup Zim’s cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “Yeah, it does. And that means you’ll smell nice when we’re cuddled up together on the couch, later.” Zim pressed against his hand with a soft purr, eyes closed, a contented smile on his face. Dib’s own sad smile slowly faded as the full weight of the interaction started to hit him. He felt like he was talking to a slightly younger Zim. At the very least, a Zim with all the usual sass and salt stripped out. And that had him worried, sure, but the worst part was, he knew full well that some part of him was enjoying the shift. Taking care of a soft, sweet Zim fulfilled some basic need he didn’t even know he had. Zim slowly opened his eyes, and the pink packaging inside the bag suddenly caught his attention. “Do I even need to ask what that is?” he said wearily. Dib gave a weak smile and finally pulled the package out of the bag. The front graphic showed an earth child in a t-shirt and what appeared at first to be purple underwear. It didn't take Zim’s earth-shattering IQ to be able to guess they weren’t that, at all. “I was a bedwetter for way longer than I care to say,” Dib admitted, cheeks going pink. “So I can personally vouch for this brand. Pluuuus ,” he added in a sing-song tone, “they’re purple and pink! Your favorite colors.” Zim stared blankly for a second, then puffed out his cheeks. “Wow, Dib. I didn’t think I could feel any more self conscious about this, but congratulations.” Dib deflated a bit and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, sorry. Just try to remember that it’s not for forever, alright?” Zim opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head, thinking better of whatever he was about to say. Instead, he grabbed a washcloth and thrust it at Dib. “There’s still some milkshake on my back,” he said quietly. “I can’t reach it myself. Can you …? Dib took the washcloth from him, dipped it into the bath water, and gently began cleaning him up. There were strawberries caked along the outline of his PAK, along with the general stickiness coating everything. Zim held uncharacteristically still as Dib worked, merely swirling his fingers in the water and watching the bubble trails. “Are you alright?” Dib finally asked after several minutes of silence. “Yeah, Dib. I’ve always wanted to start pissing myself at random. So, you know. Never better,” Zim replied dryly without looking up. “We could keep trying to fix it, you know,” Dib offered as he poured water down Zim’s back to clean under his PAK. “No,” Zim replied sorrowfully, “it’s not just the wires. Some of the chips are damaged, and they’re not like your computer chips. They’re grown, like crystals. So you can’t just slap a new one in there any more than you can take a slice of your brain and replace it.” He leaned his head against the cool tile, eyes closed. “There are tools to regrow broken chips, but I don’t have them. There’s a chance I could pick up what I need on Vort, but that’s not possible right now because of the political situation.” Dib silently wrung out the washcloth and set it on the edge of the tub. “So you’re …” “Stuck like this for the foreseeable future, yeah,” Zim confirmed, swirling the bubbles around with his finger. “And I don’t even know the full extent of what ‘like this’ is .” “You haven’t been losing any of your other faculties, have you?” Dib asked with a concerned frown. Zim shook his head. “No, I just feel weird. Different.” He pushed the water from side to side, watching the frothy waves bounce around the tub as he struggled to find the words. “Smaller, almost,” he finally whispered. “I just want physical comfort and … simple things. I don’t know …” Dib reached out and put a finger under Zim’s chin, making him look up. “You want me to take care of you?” he asked gently. As he looked into Zim’s eyes, there was no denying that something had permanently shifted. The Zim that sat in front of him seemed to be trying to take up as little space as possible. Everything about him seemed to cry out for affection, and Dib wanted nothing more than to give it to him. Zim bit his lip nervously before giving a small nod. “Y-yeah. Being taken care of sounds nice.” Dib leaned forwards and kissed him on his forehead, then sat back on his heels. “Good, because that’s what I was planning to spend the rest of the day doing, anyways.” Dib pulled the stopper out of the drain and shook out a fuzzy purple towel as Zim stood up out of the water with a shiver. In one fluid motion, Dib wrapped Zim up in the towel and whisked him up before the alien could protest. Much to his surprise, this got a genuine laugh out of Zim instead of the usual cussing-out. “Man, you are in some rare moods today,” Dib said as he kissed Zim’s cheek. Zim shrugged self-consciously. “I guess …” His blush made his freckles stand out like stars in a dusty desert twilight, and for a moment, all Dib could do was smile and take it all in. “You’re still going to make me put one of those things on, aren’t you?” Zim asked quietly, face falling as Dib set him down on his feet. “Sorry,” Dib murmured, in lieu of saying ‘yes’. “If it had just been the one accident, I wouldn’t push, but, well.” He shrugged apologetically. “Twice is kind of a pattern.” Zim dried himself off slowly, looking over the packaging that claimed the product enclosed “ looks and feels like real underwear! ” It was a bold claim that Zim wasn’t positive would be able to hold up under scrutiny. It also hammered home the fact that Zim was departing the realm of whatever “real” underwear happened to be, and he had no idea if -- or when -- he’d be returning. The uncertainty left a knot in his guts. As Zim finished drying off his legs, Dib ripped one end of the package open and pulled out something that certainly looked more like a diaper than any sort of adult undergarment Zim had ever seen. Dib handed it over and Zim, still skeptical, took it and examined it closer. At least Dib had done his best to get the good colors. But that was really the only bright spot. Zim pulled the stretchy sides wide enough to step into it, then shimmied it up until the padding was flush with his crotch. He wiggled it around a bit, noting the muted crinkle the thing made as he shifted. He looked up to meet Dib’s eyes. “This is a diaper,” he said with a wry look. “It’s just a pull-up,” Dib corrected. “Call it whatever you want, Dib,” Zim said with a sigh as he walked towards the bedroom closet. “Doesn’t really change what it is. You know. I know.” He gestured half-heartedly towards the packaging. “Even those lying marketing executives probably know.” There wasn’t much Dib could say to that, so he gave Zim a sort of well-meaning pat on the head, and went to dig through the dresser for a change of clothes. After changing into some ridiculously fluffy pajamas, they settled in for an afternoon of sugar and scary movies with the hope of taking Zim’s mind of what a disaster the day had been so far. Zim had been concerned that Dib would want to keep a bit of distance between the two of them, but instead Dib seemed to want him as close as possible. Dib tended to be fairly affectionate as it was, but tonight he was all but smothering Zim with his love, cuddling him and preening his antennae. “Normally I’d never say this, because I’m worried you’d rip my face off and wear it as a hat, but you’re really cute,” Dib murmured between cheek kisses. “I wouldn’t kick your ass for that,” Zim said dismissively. “You always assume I want to be referred to in hard, masculine terms, but I’ve never said that.” Dib raised his eyebrows in surprise. “For real?” “Yeah,” Zim said as he snuggled against Dib’s chest. “I’d like it if you called me cute more often.” Dib smiled and hugged him close. “How about adorable?” “Mm-Hmm. That one, too.” “Sweet?” “Literally and figuratively, yes.” “My little bug?” Zim stopped with a Fun Dip stick halfway to his mouth. Those words made all eight ventricles of his heart suddenly flutter so badly, he was momentarily convinced he was experiencing a cardiac event. Dib laughed nervously, “Alright, not that one. Message received.” Zim hunched his shoulders reflexively. “Um. Actually … say that one again?” Dib looked down, trying and failing to read his expression. “What? My little bug?” he repeated cautiously. Zim closed his eyes, a stupid smile spreading across his face. The words were warm and soft, like a blanket fresh from the dryer on a chilly fall evening. “Oh, you actually like that one!” Dib remarked, more than a little surprised. “I thought the silence was because you were too nice to tell me it was stupid.” “I’m never too nice to call you stupid , Dib,” Zim pointed out with a sidelong glance and a barely concealed smirk. “But yes, when you say that, it gives me the warm-and-fuzzies.” “Sure that’s not because you’ve peed yourself again?” Dib said under his breath. Zim gave him a swift elbow to the ribs for his trouble. “Be nice to Zim!” he groused with a scowl as Dib coughed and grabbed his side. “I’ve had a rough day. Asshole.” “ Fuck , I think you broke something,” Dib wheezed as tears sprung to his eyes. “ Good . Think of that next time you decide that making me feel like filthy garbage over something I can’t help is a fantastic idea.” Zim crossed his arms and leaned his way out of Dib’s lap, flopping against the arm of the couch. Well. There he was. That was the Zim that Dib knew and (mostly) loved. Dib rubbed his ribs gingerly, a sinking feeling in his guts. “Hey, I’m sorry, alright?” he offered gently. “I didn’t mean to ruin a nice moment. I … guess I was just trying to be funny.” Zim covered his head with his arms. “It’s not funny, Dib,” he said, muffled. “It’s one of the least funny things to ever happen to me!” His shoulders shook for a moment as he sucked in a deep breath. “… especially because it is wet …” he added, so softly that Dib almost missed it. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Dib said frantically, standing up and giving Zim’s sleeve a little tug. “C’mere. Let’s go take care of it.” Zim looked up miserably, wiping the corner of his eye on his sleeve. “I can do it myself, Dib.” “I know you can, but I said I was going to take care of you, so come here and let me handle things.” Dib reached down and made a little “up!!” gesture with his fingers. Zim gave an aggravated little snort, but eventually stood up and allowed Dib to pick him up. He wrapped his legs and arms around Dib’s body, clinging like a toddler, face buried in Dib’s shoulder to hide how badly he was blushing. “You’ve got to tell me when you need it swapped out,” Dib admonished gently as they ascended the stairs. “I was comfy,” Zim mumbled. “If that’s seriously the lie you’re going with, I’m gonna start checking,” Dib said with a warning glance. “Do you want that?” “Of course not!!” Zim sputtered. “It’s embarrassing, okay?? I don't want to draw attention to it.” “You know what’s more embarrassing?” Dib asked as he set Zim down on the floor. “Leaking all over me and the couch. Now, do me a favor and hold your shirt out of the way.” Zim sighed and lifted up his shirt as Dib deftly pulled his pants down and ripped the sides on his pull-up to take it off. He set it on the ground and pulled out a pack of wipes from the bag on the bed, then set to work wiping Zim down. It wasn’t as if Dib wasn’t already intimately familiar with all of Zim’s bits. They had a very healthy love life, and one of Dib’s favorite things to do was put his face between Zim’s thighs and absolutely go to town eating him out until Zim’s legs shook and he couldn’t see straight. But there was something altogether different about having Dib clean him up with all the gentle care in the world, absolutely devoid of sexual subtext. Or at least, that’s how it looked . “I’m starting to think you like this more than you’ve let on,” Zim said suspiciously. It was a stab in the dark, but it was also the only thing that explained why Dib seemed so completely unbothered by the whole thing. Dib shrugged. “I guess? Taking care of you kinda hits a special part of my heart just right,” he said with a genuine smile. “I don’t like that you’re in this situation, but as long as you are, I’d love to get to pamper the absolute hell out of you.” “I said no diapers, Dib,” Zim insisted nervously. “I mean I want to dote on you, dummy,” Dib said as he rolled everything up and brought it to the bin on the other side of the room. “Although diapers would make this whole thing easier. You wouldn’t need to take everything off in order for me to change you.” Zim whined as he stepped out of his pajama bottoms. “Not yet,” he said, a pleading tone to his words. Dib came back with a fresh pull-up, sprinkled with what smelled like lavender baby powder. “Suit yourself,” he said, holding the disposable underwear out in front of Zim. “Step into this, and then we’re done.” Zim put a hand on Dib’s shoulder for balance and did as he was told. “So that’s really it?” he asked as he straightened the leg bands on his hips. “You just like coddling me? You don’t have a piss fetish or anything?” Dib didn’t immediately answer, and when Zim looked up, his face was an indescribable shade of red. “ Oh my Tallest ,” Zim said, face falling. “I trusted you!” Dib fiddled with his glasses. “I’m not getting off on this!!” he insisted. A little too intently, Zim thought. “It’s more like … it’s cute??” he attempted desperately. “It’s weirdly emotionally intimate and it just makes me want to cuddle you, okay??” “So none of it is sexual?” Zim asked dryly as he pulled up his pajama bottoms. Dib tilted his head back towards the ceiling and gave a frustrated moan. “Ohhhh my gawd, alright . Look. Let me put it this way,” he said, face still on the red side of pink. “If we were fucking and you … um … you know …” Zim raised his eyebrows. Having a laugh at Dib’s expense was simply too easy. “ No . I don’t know.” Dib ran his fingers through his hair once, and then a few extra times for good measure. “Okay. Okay okay okay . If you … if you were inside of me, and you pissed …” Dib tossed his hands up on either side of him in a greatly exaggerated shrug. “I wouldn’t hate it , alright??” Zim thought for a moment, foot tapping as he watched Dib squirm out of the corner of his eye. “But would you like it ?” he asked, trying not to grin when Dib’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Gah!!! Yes, Zim! Is that what you want to hear??” he yelled. “That I fucking fantasize about having the balls to ask you to piss inside me and then fuck me in it?? ” A smile tugged at the corner of Zim’s face. He’d never seen Dib snap like this before and it was highly amusing. “Holy shit …” he whispered to himself. Dib continued on with his rant, unaware. “Because I do , alright?? I think that would be hot as hell , especially if you told me what a disgusting, perverted freak I am while you do it!!” He stopped gesticulating wildly and dropped his arms, panting. His glasses had nearly slid off his face and his hair was wild. “Are you happy now??? ” Dib demanded as Zim desperately stifled a giggle with his sleeve. “You have no idea,” he replied with a grin. “I’m not taking advantage of this situation, I swear ,” Dib said, still visibly flustered as he fixed his glasses. “You’re cute and I want to take care of you. I just also haven’t stopped seeing you as my partner so, if you want to still have sex…” He trailed off with a hopeful look. “That option is still on the table.” Zim stepped forwards and hugged Dib around the waist. “Good. Because I haven’t stopped enjoying the thought of being inside you.” Dib ruffled his antennae. “Perpetually on the same page. That’s why I love you.” Zim stepped back and made an “up!!” motion with his arms, an expectant look on his face. Dib rolled his eyes, but ultimately reached down to pick him up. “Alright, alright. One more movie, because I can’t say no to that look. But then we’re going to bed for real. It really has been a long day.”

Ordered the new little mermaid pull ups from wal-mart. the designs are super cute and hold a lot of potty suprisenly. Definitely check these out if you're a pull ups lover 😊

Im new to this fourm and would love to chat with some Scottish Diaper Lovers as im looking to find friends with an interest in Pullups

Did not expect huggies to release a 5t-6t version of their night time pull ups. But to my suprise they did and I couldn't be more happier. These seem to be a bit more stretchier then the regular 5T-6T pull ups and definitely a lot more absorbant. They feature two cute sleepy mickey mouse designs. I've already went potty 3 times in mine and no leaks! I highly recommend giving these a try if you're a pull ups fan 😊

Hey I'm trying to find alternatives to drynites as ive put on a little bit of weight due to my hrt, and no longer fit in them, and other pullups just don't have the same feel, was just wondering if anyone has any that they know of that.

After years of hiding that i enjoy wearing Pullups ive finally decided to join the community as id like to meet other people similar to myself. My whole life ive always had a fascination with wearing diapers. When i was around 14 i began wearing Drynites at almost evey opertunity i could. I recently began researching into ABDL and i am very much not a fan of the ageplay, I just enjoy wearing them as they would always make me feel comfortable. i would like to chat with people that have the same interest in Pullups as i do and possibly indulge in them together eventually. Im 27 and live in Scotland and would love any advice the community can offer me.

Contains: Premature Ejaculation, Humiliation, Pull-ups ... Timberly Swinn, 27 F Happy for fun, would love something deeper. Sex positive, unless you’re a fuckin’ creep. I’m interested in technology and writing on the human psyche. I like board game nights with friends when we want to keep things low key. For a high energy date I’ll teach you how to play pickleball–I’d say, ‘Loser buys drinks afterwards’, but I don’t need free drinks. I’m not going to quit my career for you, don’t even ask. Looking for a sweet, sensitive guy who isn’t terrified of emotional vulnerability. Sam scanned the dating app profile, hesitated, then looked at her picture again. She was chubby and tan and didn’t appear to be more than five foot even–only an inch shorter than himself–with a short pixie cut. She radiated confidence in her selfies; attractive, self assured, and her bio got his interest. (Sure, why not?) He sent her a message. … It took two weeks of chatting before Sam could work up the courage to ask Timberly out for coffee. She countered with dinner and drinks at a local club, and he fumbled typing his response so badly he sent ‘Y3<s’ by mistake. She just…got him. They’d quickly moved off the dating app and onto a little chat app she’d recommended, and whenever he heard its notification jingle he felt his heart flutter. Timberly was funny, successful, and confident in her attractiveness–Sam thought he was just a little funny, and not in the ‘good at telling jokes’ way. He worked as an underpaid stage hand and lived out of his parents’ basement because there was nowhere else he could afford rent. What did she want out of him? He kept expecting her to drop him, to move on to someone better. In fact, he found himself almost pushing for it–he didn’t try to hide the fact he was dirt poor or put on a persona of success. Timberly didn’t mind. She insisted she was interested in who he was as a person, not the lack of a comma in his bank account. So, anxious about being underwhelming but willing to give it a try, he’d put on a shirt that properly buttoned and tan pants, walked forty minutes to the bar she’d recommended, arrived twenty minutes early, and sat on a bench outside waiting for– “Sam?” He hadn’t heard Timberly’s voice before, but he recognized her from her photos in an instant–though she hadn’t been wearing a vest over a crisp white shirt that gave her a look of strength and solid poise. Sam momentarily worried his jaw would hit the floor and his tongue would roll out like a red carpet, but he managed to come up with a reply instead. “Timberly,” he nodded his head, looking her up and down and answering all at once. “I–I feel underdressed.” “Don’t worry, I think you look just right,” she said, nodding at the restaurant door. “I’ve got us a table–and, please, you can just call me Tim.” She led him in, ordered drinks for them when the waiter came around, and let the conversation slip into talking. Sam knew he was doomed, then–he was head over heels for her. She knew what she wanted, and she was getting it. They talked about work–he had fairly little to offer to that conversation–but her ambition made him want to go run a marathon or climb a mountain or something, just any activity to match her intensity. They talked about growing up–there, he had more in common, they’d both been to charter schools and he had stories to swap. “You’re cute,” she said, after placing their dinner orders. “I–” He spluttered. The direct complement had short circuited his thoughts, and his cheeks started to burn. (Oh god, you’re blowing this. Just…breathe.) “Thank you, you look fantastic.” “Thank you,” she said, the corners of her eyes crinkling when she smiled. “But that’s not all I meant. Did you know your ears wiggle when you get excited?” “They do? I didn’t…” focusing on the sensation, he realized she was right–his ears were wiggling. “I didn’t know that.” “I read people for a living. Spotting little tells in people is my business–and it can tell you a lot about a person, too, besides just which muscles are connected to which feelings in their head.” She shrugged, her body language indicating that she found the quirk endearing. “Do you know what you want to do with your life?” she asked, pivoting the conversation so quickly it gave him whiplash. “I guess…I’d really like to be in a band,” he said, knowing it sounded lame. Tim sat back, reaching into her purse to take out her phone. “A band, huh?” “Sure, it’s kind of the fantasy, isn’t it?” And it was true, it’d been Sam’s fantasy…when he was twelve. Now, he just gave that answer because he didn’t know what else to say. “Up on stage, popular…” Eyes off him completely, Tim said, “I guess so. You don’t strike me as the ‘popular’ type.” Sam winced. “Ouch.” Her gaze returned to him, and softened a little. “Oh–I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I was thinking, though…is popularity chasing really your thing? That’s what you think will bring you fulfillment?” He shrugged. “I don’t…I don’t know, really. It sounds cool? But when I think about all the work that’d go into that…I don’t know. It sounds exhausting. I’d really just like to be comfortable, I think–to have friends and people I care about, to have enough free time where I can have fun, to work a job that feels like it helps people.” She set down her phone on the table and smiled. “That’s more like the Sam I know. You’ll do just fine.” “Hmm?” “I just mean, I’m enjoying this,” she said. The waiter finally stopped by, but she just asked for more water and waved him away. “I like you, Sam.” “Thanks.” Trying to find a way to fill the space and respond, he asked, “What about you? I know you like your job, but is there anything else you’re looking for in life?” She grinned. “Oh–I crave attention.” … The night went great. Better than great–they talked for hours. His crush deepend, and at the end, she drove him home. He had to awkwardly admit they were driving back to his parent’s place, but she didn’t mind; he got into her BMW and rode with her. What he wanted was to go back to her place, to hit it off in a big way, but that could wait. The night had gone well, and Tim seemed happy–he didn’t mind patience, in theory. Unfortunately, he had a tough time convincing his body of that–during the back half of the drive home, Tim had to shift the way he sat three times to hide the unfortunate erection that’d cropped up. It just wouldn’t go away, even as he kept trying to shift the conversation towards serious topics–for reasons he couldn’t quite put into words, Timberly simply made him horny. Parking on the curb, Tim walked around to get his door, let him out, and took his hand. “I had a really nice time tonight,” he said. “Me too,” she replied. “I’d like to take you out again.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Please! And–” She leaned in to kiss him, and– (Oh god, oh god–) Sam’s cheeks caught fire and he found himself unable to stifle a moan that carried into Timberly’s lips.Without warning, he found himself spurting into his boxers right there on the street, mingling embarrassment and bliss. Tim pulled back. “Was the kiss that goo–Sam?” He couldn’t help but breathe rapidly, trying to keep his face placid, unable to totally resist the sensitive shocks of bliss currently dribbling out of him. “Um…um–” Sam looked down, stupidly, shocked to see it’d soaked through. He’d stained his pants with the unexpected orgasm, right there at the end of the date, and Tim’s gaze followed his. “f**k–” he started, blush rising, before turning and sprinting into his home. He simply could not face Tim for another second. … Chirp! Chirp! Chirp! Chirp chirp! Sam didn’t answer his phone until the fifth chirp. He couldn’t bear to read the rejection message Tim had inevitably sent. Things had been going well, she’d liked him, and then he’d just blown it. (Ugh, no pun intended.) Finally, though, he had to face the music. Checking his messages… ‘Hey, Sam, I had a really nice time tonight. Don’t be embarrassed about the accident at the end–it’s not your fault.’ ‘I’d still like to go out with you again, I really didn’t mind.’ ‘How does lunch on Tuesday sound?’ ‘I knew someone in college with a similar problem. I didn’t think less of you, I was just surprised is all.’ ‘Are you okay, Sam?’ Eyes widening, he responded to the most important part first. ‘Tuesday–lunch. Yes please!’ … Things went great again, until they didn’t. Sam hadn’t experienced another bout of early ecstasy since their date, so he wrote it up as coincidence. Over excitement after a long dry spell and a wonderful night. Just to make sure, he even rubbed one out the night before. It didn’t help. They had great food, great conversation, and this time he didn’t even have the dignity of going out to the car–she reached across the table to hold his hand, gave it a squeeze, said how lovely he was looking that afternoon, and– (Oh god.) He was just glad they’d sat in a booth instead of a high top, it gave him a modicum of privacy as his cock twitched and he came in front of Timberly for the second time. “Oh, Sam–are you–” she started. He felt he had to nod, wanting to melt into nonexistence. She let him breathe, twenty seconds passing, before she said, “Hey, don’t worry about it. You can’t help it, so what’s the problem?” “Right…” he said, looking down. His jeans were stained yet again, the faint smell of cum wafting out of the booth. But when Tim smiled at him…he didn’t mind so much. … Their third date was the real breaking point. A movie at the mall, then dinner. That was the plan. But then Zoe Kravitz came on screen, and– (f**k–) Tim gave his hand a gentle squeeze, whispering under the sound of the action on screen. “Shh–it’s okay, Sammy.” That only made his blush deepen. After the film, standing in a nook by the theater exit, he tried to explain. “I swear–this was never a problem, this never happens–” “I don’t care,” Tim promised. “I’m not judging you, Sam, it’s just little accidents that happen. Some boys are like that. But…if it’s going to keep happening, you might need to do something about that.” Looking down, she gestured to the dark stain on the front of his jeans. It looked for all the world like he’d peed his pants. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess…I could just wear a condom all the time?” She thought about it, then shook her head and took his hand–just that touch made him shudder for a moment, though thankfully he didn’t humiliate himself in front of her again. “I have another idea.” He didn’t know what she was talking about until they were deep in the mall’s retail outlet, coming up on the juvenile potty training aisle, and– He dug in his heels. “Woah! I’m not going to wear–” he dropped his voice into a low stage whisper, “diapers!” “I’m not thinking about diapers,” she said, doing nothing to match his volume shift. “Pull-ups. They make them up to your waist size, and they’ll do the trick, right?” “I, but–” he started, feeling exceptionally small–and not just in a physical sense, remembering his slim waist. “Sam,” Tim said, looking him in the eye. “Nobody except you or I will know, and it’s better than having to change your pants every time we hold hands. I’ll buy them, and a new pair of pants so we can finish our date. Just wear the pull-ups, ok, sweetie?” She wouldn’t stand for self-consciousness. He knew that, and he didn’t want to argue about the details of his diaper needs in the store when he knew he’d lose. Trying to match Timberly’s own assuredness, he nodded. “Sure.” She picked up the nearest pack, one decorated with Disney princesses, and nodded. “Ok. Let’s go find some pants, get checked out, and then we’ll find a bathroom for you to change.” … Sam hated that the pullups worked, but, well…they worked. He found himself dealing with his ‘Boy accidents’ more and more around Tim, but at least they were contained now, and all it cost was a pink waistband and the shared knowledge that he had puffy absorbent princess prints for underwear. They continued to date, weeks stretching into months, until the relationship had proper labels attached. “Boyfriend and girlfriend”. Quaint, but when Tim had declared that the terms were appropriate…he’d needed a fresh pull-up. He got to meet Tim’s friends–meeting up for game night, he was reasonably sure none of them noticed when he tensed up after Timberly laughed at one of his jokes. He had to change his pull-ups in the bathroom–twice–but had a great night otherwise. They even had sex–sort of. He lasted until she had her shirt off, but she was more than content to let Sam use his mouth and fingers to make her happy, kneeling at the foot of her bed and spending half an hour giving her the pleasure he could get in two seconds. And she never judged him. Not once. If anything, Timberly liked that she could make him pulse with pleasure just by giving him a smooch on the cheek or a squeeze of the hand. She smiled when he got flustered, said he reminded her of a kid on the playground, blushing over incredibly mild PDA. And it was mild, too. She could just stroke his hair and leave him moaning, and a deep-throated kiss was better than any marathon session he could imagine. If she really wanted, Tim could snuggle up to him on her couch during a movie, wrap her hands around his waist, and leave him quivering and drooling from pleasure. The third time she got him a pack of fresh pull-ups, she referred to them as his ‘happy pants’, and he wasn’t sure he could argue. The weird thing, though–it was just Timberly. He didn’t deal with it at work, he didn’t deal with it at home, only when he was out with her. Something about that touch, or her words, or just something made him utterly unable to control himself. He started to like it, and he was pretty sure he loved Tim, too. Four months into their relationship, she dropped two bombshells on his head. “Do you want to move in with me?” she asked, followed by, “And–your accidents are getting worse. I really think we need to get you a chastity cage.” ... Tried something new with this one, incorporating some elements I don't often use! Let me know what you think. ^^ Part two, the conclusion of their story, will be out soon! If you want to support creative endeavors like this one and get access to more content like it, you can do so here: https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

I'm curious to hear stories about everyone's first time in diapers or pullups. Obviously, we all wore them as kids, but what was the first time after being potty trained? This is my story. I was in middle school and had the house to myself. My parents took my siblings to swim practice so I knew I'd knew i would have a few hours to myself. My sister is a few years younger than me but fully potty trained. We kept pullups for her in the house as a "backups" for trips or sleepovers. At the time, i was in the habit of wearing her panties any chance i got to be alone in the house. As soon as my family left I'd run to her room, open her drawer and "play" with them. I loved all the soft fabrics and designs. All my boy underwear were tighty whites up until almost high school. But she had princesses, unicorns and cartoon characters on her panties. And i wanted some for myself for awhile. I would also routinely play with her Barbies while alone. I used to play with them when i was younger (my parents were very loving and accepting) and my sister inherited my collection when she was born. And she also got her own. Well, this time when i went to grab a Barbie, the bag of pullups fell from the shelf too. I immediately got curious. I barely remembered wearing diapers/pullups as a kid. but these ones had Disney Princesses on them! and i could squeeze into her panties (just barely) so why not try a pullup. I ran in the bathroom and slid into it. It felt electric seeing Ariel and Cinderella playing on my pullup. I even forgot about the Barbie i sat on the counter (who watched me model the pullup) I left it on for awhile as i cleaned up my sisters room, putting away the panties and dolls i played with. Then about 20 mins before my family was due to arrive home, I decided i would try wetting the pullup. I ran into the bathroom and just went. it felt AMAZING! but then i began to leak and i panicked. I jumped in the tub and ripped off the pullup. I threw down a whole roll of toilet paper trying to clean up the leakage on the floor . I ended up rushing to our neighbors house (it was trash pickup day) and throwing the pullup in their bin not more than 2 minutes before my family got home. Thankfully i wasn't caught haha. The urge to wear pullups faded but has since come alive again in the last few year. I'm currently wearing girls goodnites a few times a week and trying to squeeze into pullups again. That's my story, thanks for reading. Can't wait to hear your tales too

Hey guys, I’ve been experimenting a bit with different cloths over my diaper, I usually wear pull ups to work and diapers at home, and find it great to wear a body or a onesie under my cloths just to keep the diaper well in place! Over that I usually wear some leggings or spandex shorts as I like that my diaper bulge shows a bit hehe... what do you Pfeffer to wear over a diaper or pull-ups?

Well, I have a new story started, a friend of cool content helping me edit, and a ton of nervous energy. I always get a little nervous when I start a new story, and worse so, when I post the first few chapters! Please watch for the Point of View IDs (--- Becca ---) littered throughout the story. It's a first person work told from several points of view. I think this may be a long one so enjoy and let me know what you think! ----------------------------------------------------------- Birch House Chapter 1 --- Becca --- “I’m not parking this far away from the house everyday.” My husband grumbled. “Yeah, this is kinda retarded. If we buy it, you won’t have to.” I agreed flipping my bangs out of my face the jewelry on my wrist clinking together like a wind chime. “We’ll just drive up there and park next time, but we’ll need to get some gravel brought in and make a real lane out of this grownup driveway. We should do a circular drive and make sure Ann’s got a place to park too.” He said calculating volumes in his head. “We’re not pissing off the Finn’s Trent. We’ll park down here by the road until they tell us it’s ok, or we buy it.” I asserted. “All right… All right Babe.” Trent caved not wanting to upset the sellers either. That’s how Trent was though, always planning ahead. He could see things coming before they got to us, and still find creative ways to bitch about it even if he already had a plan to deal with it. I loved trent with all my heart, but his attitude could be an acquired taste. I had been with Trent since I was a little girl… first as a friend and eventually his wife. Trent’s offered me his hand getting out of my car, and I paused to pull my black lace covered skirt back down where it belonged. Stockings are great and all, but the silky lining of my skirt let it ride way up when I got in the car. I may like showing some cleavage and making sure my tattoos are visible, but I didn’t intend to flash my lack of panties to the world. I love teasing Trent, so normally that’s a good thing, but our realtor sure didn’t need to see my lady fur! Regardless of Trent’s attitude problems, I loved him. Not to mention the short walk up the tree lined lane was beautiful this time of year and was doing wonders for both our attitudes. The little forest guarded the edge of the property from view blocking us from our potential neighbors. In fact, it felt like the house was carved out of a small but wild grove of trees. Even the chill in the air because of fall’s cooler temperatures couldn’t mess with my mood. “God I hope we can close this deal. This place fucking rocks.” I squealed clinging to Trent. My hopes rose with each step closer to my would-be-house. My head swiveled admiring the small forest and the well kept yard. It was the fifth time we’d wandered up that path, and I was starting to feel like I was coming home. I wanted that house so badly, but the amount of debt we were talking about was Hella scary for me. Owning a home was going to be an exciting new chapter in our lives. I mean, I was still driving the car my parents bought me when I turned sixteen for fuck’s sake! The only credit I had was a hundred dollar Victoria Secret card! Big spender I was not. Mom would be so proud of me. I wish she were here to see this with me. Drunk ass old fool! I thought sparing an unkind thought for my dad too. Ashley, our realtor, had shown us this property all five times we’d visited. Each time she looked amazing, and she didn’t let me down that day either dressed in a brilliant blue business suit that day. I remember it matched her lovely eyes. The realtor greeted us with bright smiles hugging me tightly like a long lost friend. I admired her for her sense of style even if it was different than mine, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t catch me staring. “The house is nice too. My firm has sold this house a total of six times you know! This will be the second time that I have found Birch House a new family. She’s just an amazing place.” Ashley said over her shoulder as we toured the house taking my attention from her legs. “I still don’t understand the turnover.” Trent implied blind to her appeal. “This house, at its age, in this condition, and at this price point has always been a great deal. She’s always been a great first house or last house depending on your stage of life. Remember, six times over that many years isn’t so alarming.” She said sticking to her tour confidently dismissing his question handling Trents skepticism like a boss. “It looks like everything in here is new!” Trent said getting his first at the like-new old house. I realized she’d given this tour a million times before, and it added a layer of nervous energy to the walkthrough. Her cleavage was distracting me more than Trent, and I bet she dressed up to show off her assets as a tactic too. I shook my head clearing out the unproductive thoughts feeling a bit like a dude at Hooters hoping the waitress really meant all those kind words. I was ready to make an offer, well… mostly. We had our co-signer and our funding all worked out. We were ready to finalize on our latest offer, assuming the property had been improved like the Finn’s had promised. I shook off my uncertainty causing the chain on my ear piercings to make dainty metallic noises that only I could hear. Personally, I thought Trent had a good point, but maybe I was biased? Why would the house have had so many owners? It’s was nerve wracking going into debt like that, and I just needed to be sure. It felt terrifying and exciting at the same time like that time I went bungee jumping. Making a bad deal and going into over a hundred thousand dollars worth of debt was dragging my excitement to the shitter. The house seemed big enough to me... maybe it was just rich-lady-reasons? I sure as hell didn’t any of those! I wasn’t certain why it was only a good house to start or end one’s life, but I bet she had a speech prepared for the question so I just let it go. There were like a million rooms at Birch House. I bet a big family could live here for a good long time, decades even. The listing had it at about eighty years old. Three, maybe four owners seemed reasonable to me, not four before our realtor’s firm and six more after! Ashley skimmed her notes flipping through the thick stack of paper on her clipboard. The current owners had met us here the second time she showed us the place. I couldn’t believe it had only been a few weeks ago. Trent and I had discussed the things we’d like to do to the house to really make it our own after our first visit. It was going to be hard to complete our list since we didn’t have a lot of cash left for improvements. When the Finn’s had asked, it had seemed like a strange question. A question answered cautiously because we were eager to make a good impression. So, we literally gave them a copy of our list hoping for the best. They’d talked to us for quite a while when we met them. The Finn’s stayed so long it began to feel like a job interview! They’d asked what improvements could be made that would help us. Things they could do that would make the house more attractive and let us pay for the improvements over the term of the loan. The Finns freakin awesome! They were clearly still deeply in love with each other and Birch House. That was no small accomplishment after having been married over ten years. We guessed they were in their mid to late thirties at the time. They said they were only moving because Mr. Finn had been asked to head up an office for his company in another state. They said that they absolutely loved the house and honestly hated to leave it. That made more sense to us. It seemed like a good reason to move, but we still felt uneasy after the interview. We had the sense that the whole deal was too good to be true. We still had two months on Trent’s lease and weren’t too worried about finding a place to rent, so we had the time to be patient about our house hunting. His landlord even offered to go monthly on our rent at the end of the lease, so we had that option too. He wasn’t thrilled when we put in our notice. “Good tenants like you kids are hard to find.” Carl had told us reading our letter of intent. Good? Ha! We were the best tenants! We Phillip’s are handy. We’d tackled small home improvement tasks and simply ask off a bit of rent when our landlord was happy with the results. The first few times we’d had to get any upgrades approved, but it didn’t take long to make a good impression. The bathroom tile and marble countertops had made him so happy he’d paid for the supplies and given us rent for free that month. We weren’t afraid of a little elbow grease. In fact, we enjoyed working to make a house a home. Trent’s mom called it nesting. Unfortunately, money was going to be short for a while. It always is after you buy your first home. His mother had warned us, and it turned out she was clairvoyant about our potential lack of cash. There were more out of pocket expenses than we were expecting. We intended to make the repairs to Birch House on our own, and in our own time. Our realtor had insisted on asking about improvements saying, “you never know.” Then the Finn’s turned around and asked us themselves. We felt much better about being asked than doing the asking ourselves. “We’ve asked to meet with all the potential buyers you know. We’ve decided we are backing your offer. Honestly, the Missus just loves you two. Birch House was our first home and we just love it. Is there anything we can do to help you?” Marshall Finn had asked. Turns out the list we’d made at home was just what the doctor ordered. Trent’s forthought helped us out again, but his ego suffered from the triumph. The improvements were part of Trent’s property evaluation process. God, he was so organized it was obnoxious! Our fantasies gave us some goals to work toward and a future to dream of. In the end, the Finns had the list and we left it with them to think it over. “I can’t believe they did all this in two weeks!” I said trailing my black tipped fingers over the new stove while glancing around at the refurbished cabinets. “Well, they must be heavily invested in unloading this place, or they just really liked you two and were prepared to help you out. I think what really motivated them was when you said you’d have to take a renter for the upstairs.” Our realtor commented as she walked. “Rebecca look! They pulled the carpet off the stairs and refinished the old floors! They had to have had people working 24x7 to pull all this off. It’s not like it was in bad shape before, but this… It’s amazing.” Trent’s eyes roamed around the house absorbing details in a state of wonder. “I know. I mean we may want to paint, and I’d eventually like marble on the counters in the bathroom here too, maybe the kitchen. You know how I am about my marble! But, this… is UNREAL. It looks like a brand new house in here!” I gushed bouncing on my toes. “I noticed the shingles were replaced on the way up here. Did they mention any water damage?” Trent asked. “Uh… I have a note here that there was a small leak in the attic. The inspector’s report says there was only discolored sheetrock which has been replaced as well. This is an amazing deal. Brand new roof, that’s a ten thousand dollar value added back.” Ashley insisted redirecting Trent. The woman was amazing! Her word wizardry would leave you eating your own words with confidence. Un...Fucking...Real... “Well, I wouldn’t feel right countering lower than the asking price now. This place is worth way more than they have it up for.” I told them both, my heart investing deeply. “Awe Trent, look they left that rod iron frame up I liked so much. Honey, I just LOVE this place!” I said it and knew I was all in at that point. Our realtor probably felt her commission check weighing down her purse after my blabbermouth. The two story house was priced to move at one-hundred twenty thousand, but with these improvements it was worth around one-eighty easy. The Finns had gone way above and beyond for us. “Well, you can’t go wrong with Birch House. It always sells fast! Owners seem to stay a while or get out in under ten years. Then they move on to something bigger and better if they leave. Maybe it’s good luck?” Ashley shrugged having sussed out my love of the supernatural and superstitious. “There’s only one weird thing. The owners almost always want to meet the buyers before they accept an offer.” She noted certain that this deal was sealed. “But, you guys already nailed that, so I can’t imagine them not signing right away.” “I just want to run around in the yard barefoot and I don’t know… pounce on the couch for a good nap in the sun. These windows are insane! There’s not a smudge on them anywhere. They let in so much light!” I fussed to Trent tugging at his shirt begging him with my eyes. Hell, the grass looks as lush and fluffy as the carpet! “Ashley, you know we are just going to offer their asking price right? See if they will cover the closing costs for us, and we’ll be able to afford the paint right away. If not, we’ll take it anyway and paint in a few months.” Trent tells the realtor confident he’s getting a good deal the confidence sexily wafting off of him. “Oh Trent! Really! God, I really don’t want to leave now. This new carpet probably sleeps better than our bed!” I said bending to rub my hands through the pile on the livingroom floor. I was so wrapped up in the feel of that luxurious carpet that I forgot about my short little skirt. I mooned Ashley with my stocking covered pany-free ass, but she never commented. Girl wanted that commision check! “Ann is going to love it here. She’s always wanted a dog and there’s so much room! I guess we better look over the upstairs and I’ll run through the attic before you call them Ashley. Due diligence and all.” Trent said bounding up the stairs with the hardwood he’d fallen in love with. I stood up and headed over to the only picture still hanging in the house. The current owners had already moved out, and other than their couch and a bed left in a guest room downstairs there wasn’t much left in the house. We really could move in right away, I muse running my finger over the rod iron frame. The same saying hangs in both our parent’s house and Trent’s mom’s place. ‘Love makes a house a Home’ they read. I loved this house already, but that wall hanging really endeared it to me. I was feeling a connection to the house and we hadn’t even signed for it yet! I moved through the living room running my hand along the oak trim framing the doorway. I’ve always loved that quote, I thought leaving the room getting a tactile feel for the place. “Ashley, I’ve never lived anywhere that had an official laundry room before! Trent loves that the hot water heater is in there and accessible too. This place is fucking awesome!” I couldn’t praise Birch House enough! We both knew where I stood. “It is. This is my favorite property. I’d live here myself, but the house is never on the market when I’m looking. Each owner puts their stamp on it of course, but it just seems to add to it’s ambiance not take away. Owners have moved walls or changed things around to suit their tastes, but it always feels so... Homey in here.” Our realtor smiled. “Everything checks out up there Becca. There’s even more impossible renovations upstairs! Ann may want to paint, but there isn’t much reason to do anything else. They even got the sink and some cabinets in the third room. Hell, there’s room for one of your Exes up there too babe.” Trent joked. “Just be glad I like that girl so much. You really did a number on her. The poor thing.” I slapped at Trent giving him a hard time on a stale joke. “Rebecca Phillips! I was like fifteen er something! That was friggin years ago! I didn’t even know we were going steady. I had no idea going to the movies with Wendy was cheating on her! Cut me some slack! We are all adults and friends, best friends even! I don’t think of her as an Ex!” Trent looked tired of the old one sided argument, but I thought it was funny and so did Ann. He was still sensitive about it though. “Then don’t joke about it if you can’t take it. Ann can. You can’t, ya cheater!” I teased Trent even more. “I’d never cheat on you.” He whispered pulling me to him. “You don’t think that do you?” He asked. Ashley cleared her throat, “Becca, you had better be one hundred percent sure. Buying a house, married or not, has legal obligations that follow you even if Trent doesn’t. I can’t make your offer unless I’m sure you’re sure. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, even if my job is to sell the house and move on.” “Oh Trent! Your stupid jokes have scared Ash. Go measure something or look at man stuff!” I huffed at him swatting him on the ass dismissing him so the Big Girls could talk. His shoulders told me that he didn't’ appreciate that very much, but Trent ambled outside grumbling about girls being confusing. I watched him walking across the covered front porch and disappear from my view. We waited long enough to be sure he was truly out of earshot. I waited more for Ashley’s sake than for my own privacy. “Ash, you are totally safe making this offer. Trent may be gone a lot, but I see his checks. I know when he’s gone, how long he’s paid for, and I have ways of accounting for his time. The lady that does payroll showed me, Barb. We were at a company picnic and I told her I was uncomfortable with all the weird hours cause truthfully, I’m a little insecure and needy. I’m sure he worries about all those hot young college guys when I’m at class too.” I admit. “Oh, I know what you mean. I’ve been married for years and have zero reasons not to trust my husband, but it’s just so rampant, the cheating. I get worked up sometimes.” She reassured me shrugging her shoulders. “He never really cheated on Ann either. She just felt that way at the time. Neither one of them had dated before, and didn’t know any of the rules. It was hard for her for like two weeks then she was over it, and that was literally years ago. If you ever meet her just know Trent didn’t make her the way she is. She’s just a timid little thing and I love her to death. Trent does too, but we love her in a sisterly way. She’s older than both of us, and we’ve all been good friends since we were in diapers.” I assured her. “Ok, well I feel a bit better. Backstories always help a sale, ya know! Go let the heartbreaker and bring him in the house. Just remember. Everyone loves Birch House. It always feels like Home in here. Don’t be the first ones in like eighty years to bring bad things to this place.” I could feel Ashley’s love for the house and the warning in her threatening tone. Her deep care for the place anchored my feelings. Love grew in my own heart too. I was in love with my future first home! This house would be our Home. I was absolutely confident that Birch House would meet our needs and maybe even see the pitter patter of little feet bounding around. Trent and I walked hand in hand back down the lane to our car talking so fast we had trouble keeping up with each other. Birch House Chapter 2 Trent and I brought Ann to Birch House four days later. --- Ann --- I’m buying a flipping-stinking house! Daddy is going to be so proud! I said to myself while getting out of my jeep. I can’t believe I’m buying a frigging house! I shivered in excitement. “OMG! Girl! I can’t wait to show you OUR new place!” Becca yelled getting out of my jeep. She ran around my jeep bounding over to get me. Her silver bracelets and rings clinking against each other making her sound like a wind chime. “I know sweety. Look, calm down a bit. You’re spazzing!” I laughed hugging her lightly. I placed my hands on her shoulders to hold her to the ground. She looked at me with her large chocolate colored eyes opened widely, “I’m sorry… I just never bought a house before.” “That’s ok hun! Me neither! I’m excited too. Point those puppy dog eyes somewhere else! I really need a place anyway, like tomorrow!” I noted worried more about my own circumstances than buying a house. In fact, buying that house with my best friends was an answer to a prayer. “Ann, I’m so glad you’ll be moving in with me. Really I am. Not even kidding! I was going to be so fucking lonely! Trent’s driving would do me in I’m sure of it. You’ll get the entire upstairs to yourself so you can hide from me. You’ll have like everything up there. It’ll be your own apartment or something. OH. MY. GOD. I’m fucking freaking out.” Excitement spilled from Becca while she shook her hands animatedly grabbing at my elbows. “So they accepted the offer then?” I asked her taking her hands. “Yeah, the Finns accepted at their original asking price, like right away. Trent is freaking out too! He says it’s a steal! He’s prolly gonna be on the phone all day.” My friend babbled while tugging at my arms pulling me toward the house. “I’m sorta afraid it’s too good to be true.” I admitted looking down at her. For the millionth time, I pondered how badly that piercing in her nose must have hurt. She has a tiny silver ring in her septum that just hangs low enough to have a bit of movement. The dainty little diamond high in her left nostril fits tightly against her skin and barely catches the light. Becca was always modifying herself, but I liked her nose the best. Me? I’m a big wuss. I don’t like pain. I have one set of ear piercings to her many and nothing else pierced to her many other piercings. I have it on good authority Becca’s face isn’t the only location with non-biological holes! Just the thought of her pierced flower gave me a serious physical shiver. No way in a hairy dolphin will I ever get my lady bits pierced! I promised myself after that stray thought filtered through my mind. “Yeah, I can’t shake that feeling either… Only just a tiny bit though! They even paid the closing costs and shit. We are moving in on the down payment only, that’s nuts! We can cover that together no problem! You’re amazing by the way! Have I told you that today? We couldn’t do this without you.” Becca says turning around swiftly and stretching up to kiss my cheek meaning I had to bend down cause she pulled me to her. I loved Becca, but I’m a very introverted person. Hugs were the most contact Becca and I had shared and those were infrequent bro-hug type thingies. My childhood was sort of difficult. My parents were great, but my health wasn’t. I ostracized myself from the outside world and only went out when I had to. Trying to date my neighbor Trent had been Mom’s idea. I over invested and it sort of crushed my will to date for a while. Mom’s therapist (I refused to call her my own) said I have a social anxiety disorder. I thought I just like being alone, but I don’t have a Doctorate in what other people think so I got ignored. The kiss was new for us. I didn’t know what to do with it, but my hand drifted up to my face touching the trace of heat her lips had left. “You know, I only have a few days before I have to be out of my apartment. It stinks that I’ll have to move twice.” I complained. “Ah. You’ll only be a couch bum for a couple days. Maybe a couple weeks tops. We are happy to have you.” Becca reminded me of her offer to let me bunk on their couch at Trent’s apartment. “Uh... I decided to stay at the La Quinta Becks. They have a suite and I booked it for seven days. They gave me a good rate, and I’m not hurting for money. Besides, I don’t want to squash the newlywed vibe you two have going on.” I told her following her up to the house. “Awe, really? That’s no fun!” She huffed. “We’ll be all up in each other’s business before you know it. I’m excited. I’ll get more room for about the same money with this house. This move is a no-brainer for me babe.” I said looking down at her. “I may have bought it without you guys if I’d have been brave enough.” “I’m sorry they sold your building, but I’m not sorry to move in with my best friend!” Becca laughed hugging me tightly resting her head on my chest. “Your tall today.” Becca commented looking down at my hikers then back up at my face. “I’m always tall, and your always short!” I giggled and took a turn dragging her a few steps toward our new home. Becca took the lead guiding me around the backside of the house. She was a touchy-feely chick, but today she was a bit over the top. She’d always been that way, and it had been hard for me since I was a pre-teen. I’d dealt with the touching because I trusted her though. She was my first real friend after we’d moved when I was eight. I trusted Becca to get a good feel for the house just like I trusted Trent’s handi-maness to determine if the house was sound. The Lord knows I couldn’t do either! I giggled to myself. You have a certain set of skills… and house buying isn’t one of them. I thought in my best Liam Neeson impression. I hate getting out of the house, and college was just torture for me. My freshman year they made me live in the dorms! With people! I’d fallen into a light depression that year, but I had pushed through my problems and gotten my degree. I don’t really like to be touched, looked at, talked to… Fine. I’m a hermit. Dating was was even worse than living with strangers! It’s not that I enjoyed being alone, but guys just didn’t understand when I needed time alone. I just never really clicked with any of them. They couldn’t give me my alone time. Eventually, I gave up on dating altogether. I worked from home, shopped from home, ate at home, and gamed from home. I had a few friends and a truly lovely family. I just didn’t feel the need to get involved with humanity beyond that. “Look! Look!” Becca shouted as we rounded the house treading on a newer looking stone path. “Oh My stars!” Was all I could say. It was beautiful and I was left standing there dumbfounded. The back of the house looked very different from the pictures that Becca had shown me. There was a patio off the back door maybe three feet or so off the ground accounting for the grade of the hill. That wasn’t the only change though. Four humongous pillars rose from the patio on each of it’s corners. They were supporting another deck. I looked up at the bottom of the upper deck… my deck? There were two new decks, an upper and a lower, off the back of the house! I followed Becca, well got dragged by her, up a beautiful set of stairs. The dark wood had a tinge of red in the stain and was finished immaculately. The handrail was so smooth that when I ran my hand along it, I had no fear of splinters. “B...Becca! Do I really have my own outside access?!?” I stuttered in disbelief. “Yeah, Trent put that on the improvement list right at the top just for the hell of it. Look at this shit! They actually had it done!” Becca gushed literally jumping up and down. “I… I can’t believe it. It’s… so perfect.” I gaped reaching out to touch my own door. “Girl, just wait till we go inside! I don't’ have this key, but look it’s like a real balcony up here!” She giggled turning around to look at the yard. She drug me back around to the front door, but I had a hard time leaving my deck because it was cute and the view was amazing. I was already imaging watching the sunset out here. It looked like I’d have to see the first floor before I had the chance to see my floor though. The Finns had really put in a lot of effort for us, for me. I couldn’t believe all the work that had been done. It was nothing short of amazing. I was that much closer to a new dog. I was thrilled. All the woods in the house were all rich and dark where the walls were a complimentary lighter color. I was sure my little spaz of a friend would end up repainting a few rooms because her tastes are… her own? “Becks I’m pretty happy right now. I’m just so glad you and Trent finally have your own place, well you know mostly your own. I feel like I’m invading though, but I promise I’m like a recluse or something! I won’t mess with your newlywed vibe.” I told her trying to get her to slow down. “Pish! Trent will be on the road a lot, most of the week really. He may start taking some overnight runs or sleeping in his truck. They pay a crazy wad of cash for those two-day runs. We have my car, but he wants to get a bike for running back and forth to work. With you here, I won’t be alone when he’s off being the Man of the House!” Becca said growling in a low voice. “Trent could use some butching up ya know. Those truckers are going to eat alive with that metro head of hair and total lack of man-beard. He looks like a teenage boy… If he carried a hipster bag, they’d probably beat the poop out of him on the spot.” I laughed. “Hey! That’s MY metro-man you’re mouthing there.” Becca put up a token defense of her husband, but lacking in real conviction. She drew up to her full height, which unfortunately for her was just shorter than your average girl. It always makes me giggle when she gets her back up and I still have to look down at her. She looked at me with death in her eyes and then broke laughing hysterically. She hugged me in our shared excitement as we headed upstairs together. It was time to see my floor! There was a small landing upstairs and then a weird shaped hallway. I couldn’t see from one end of the floor to the other, but I’d noticed that in the pictures before. I was already figuring out how to divide up the rooms to create a full house on the second floor. I wanted a nice bedroom suite and there was a beautiful humongous master bedroom suite on this floor on the east wall. I wanted an office, guest room, and a pretend kitchen/dining room. Then I’d have a full apartment on this floor, but this house wasn’t built with that in mind. It did have a dedicated bathroom on this floor that could be a guest bathroom, so that was nice. There was plenty of rooms for the other stuff I wanted to do and I’d get around to it all eventually. “Look it! They put in an outside door on the landing!” She said her platinum hair and purple braids bouncing off her shoulders. The purple braids were tipped with silver skull-face hair ties. “I see. This is super amazing Becks! I can’t believe this. It’s almost like this floor has been remade into a real apartment. I’ll be able to take out a dog and not bother you!” I stood there shocked all over again excitement building. “I know! We’ll love your dog, but I’m glad you can do that out your own door. Just… you know walk it away from the porch a ways.” Becca admitted. “I promise Becks. I’ll do the poop bags and everything.” I agreed. “We told the Finns that we couldn’t afford the place all on our own. Ashley let on like they thought we had to get a renter. I thought she’d look our financial paperwork closer than that.” Becca told me shrugging like it was the realtor’s loss. “So... She knows I’m a co-signer right? I mean I’m covering most of the down payment and all the taxes.” I asked. “I guess, I’m sure she does by now at least. Worst case, she’ll find out at the closing won’t she?” Becca laughed. “It’ll be nice to meet the Finns at least the once.” I admitted. “Let me show ya the rest, there’s more.” Becca’s silver bracelets clacked together as she clapped her hands bounding off once again. Rebecca Phillips is my best friend, but she was just coming out of her goth phase. I was thrilled for that! Goth was preceded by a punk phase, and I for one would love to see the end of all the leather and silver buckles. The punk stuff came after her stab at grunge in her senior year. Japanese culture influenced most of High School before the grunge phase. The entertaining part of my besty is that none of the phases were ever totally left behind. They all left a mark on her eclectic sense of style. I bought her several of those noisey bracelets over the last few years. The purple streaks in her hair were left over from our junior year when two toned hair was her thing. Well, at least the punk and goth phases shared a lot of the same clothes! Goth just added a ton of dark makeup to the mix, at least that’s for the most part how it worked for Becca. I don’t know, there may be a few more piercings these days. I giggled to myself looking at her. Strangely, I found myself doing it much more frequently than I used too. I refocused on my wind chime sounding friend and the tour she was giving. It turned out one of the room’s had been upgraded just for me! There were some basic cabinets making a bar against one wall. They had installed a small overhead cabinet on one end and a fridge on the opposite wall. It immediately reminded me of a workplace break room. The only stuff I’ll have to do downstairs is oven stuff and my laundry! I notice unable to fight back my own sniffles suddenly overwhelmed by the Finns’ thoughtfulness. “Good gracious Becca, this place is amazing! I can’t get around how perfect this house is. I can’t believe they even got a fridge up here. It’s ridiculous!” I gush. “I know! Trent keeps coming over here looking for flaws. Poor guy has a bit of a glass-half-empty complex. It can be hard to keep him happy.” She giggled her hand resting on my arm. ----- I’m a few years older than Trent who was a few years older than Becca’s twenty. Twenty-four wasn’t ancient or anything, but I was the college grad with a few years of working and life under my belt. I would always be the oldest in our house. I loved Becca, but we’d never lived together, and I certainly didn’t have the upper hand in relationship edicate. I had few relationships and even fewer long term friends. Was all this touching normal? I asked myself trying to fight off the sense of invaded space she was stirring up. That day though, we both gushed and giggled about moving into our new house. We talked a lot about the new appliances and discussed colors for our walls. The owners were going to leave the couch and one bed in the guest bedroom downstairs until we closed, then it’d be a flurry to get all our crappy furniture in that beautiful house. ----- All the banking was done, so we were ready when Closing Day came around a few weeks later. All we had to was sign on the dotted lines. We were filled with nervous energy while Trent remained aloof standing with his arms crossed through most of the meeting. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time. Admittedly, I could afford the house on my own, and I wouldn’t have co-signed with my friends if that weren’t the case. Plan for the worst case scenario! Dad was worried life would smack me and leave me in a lurch so I never got in over my head. I planned to squirrel away the difference that the Phillips would be covering so I had my budget worked out for worst case. Plus I needed to rebuild my savings after the down payment. Becca and I crashed on the downstairs couch as the sun was setting the evening after we closed on the house. Trent had to leave running his first night load. So, we were alone to celebrate in our new house. The view was amazing through the full windows on the west side of the house. We were nestled in watching the oranges and reds while she sipped a beer and I nursed at a sweet tea. Becca, being so short, could only lean her head against my shoulder, but it was comfortable and so was the silence in the room. She took a pull off her beer and looked up at me with her big chocolate brown eyes. She whispered, “I couldn’t do this with anyone else ya know.” “I know Becks. I get it. You don’t have to tell me. Seriously, it’s not charity. You guys really bailed me out here. If you can stand me for a couple years, you’ll be out of school and you won’t need me any more.” I pat her leg letting her know I wouldn’t intrude forever. Her body language changed immediately. She sort of shrank in on herself and sat up separating herself from me. A shadow crossed her face and her hands quickly covered her eyes. Soft sobs wracked her body and her pale shoulders bobbed keeping time with the crying. “Shit Ann. I’m sorry.” She sniffed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, you are literally the only reason we can get this place!” “Oh Becks…” I started honestly confused. Becca cut me off, “No, it took both our credit ratings and you as a cosigner. I just meant please, please, please put up with us for a few years before your life sweeps you out of town. I’ll be ready to help with the bills then. Part-time just doesn’t cover much. Maybe I’ll be ready to let you go by then too.” I turn to do something I have never done before, something that had never occured to me before. I kissed the top of her head. Poor thing, I thought as she tugged me into a side hug burrowing into me. I’m never going to want to leave. I don’t want to get swept away with life or my carrier. I thought to myself not finding the words or the will to say anything. Becca was one of the coolest outgoing people I knew, but she seemed so fragile right then. One day I’d find out what had her so worried, but on that day I attributed it to the stress of debt and moving. “Sorry Becca. I get it. I guess I thought this might be long term thing. You know ‘Crazy Aunt Ann’ living upstairs taking care of your kids in the evenings so you two could do stuff together. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, I’ll stay long enough for you to finish school… long enough you won’t need me.” I whispered. “Shit! Damn! Ah Hell Annie. That’s N-O-T what I meant. You better bet your ass that you’ll be crazy Aunt Ann! We may need one of those rooms eventually. Trent wants to ruin my body with at least two kids. There’s only the one spare room down here unless we give up our office.” Becca rushed. “Sorry. I just… Well… Poop. Becks they are tearing down my building! I can’t catch a break anywhere. I thought you were telling me I wasn’t going to be welcome in a few years. I… it’s... I’m sorry.” I sniffed. “Such a potty mouth on such a pretty face.” Becca joked turning my words against me over my pseudo cussing. She got up on her knees and returned my kiss leaving my face uncomfortably close to her cleavage. I sprung up and drug her to the master bedroom on the second floor. My bedroom had a beautiful attached bathroom. It looked like my bedroom was a bit bigger than theirs and i secretly loved that. Buying the whole floor for half the house payment was a steal for me, but I wanted to cheer Becca up. “Your’s and Trent’s room is almost as big as his whole apartment. Plus, it’s on the opposite side of my outside entrance.” I pointed out. “Yeah, it’s a big fucking upgrade from my dorm room!” She bursted out laughing. “This is a huge upgrade for me too! Potty mouth.” I asserted. We moved to what I thought would be my guest room, “Well, the second room downstairs could be the boy’s room. You don’t want those yard apes too close to your room though. Too much rough housing in there. Then you’d have the kid’s bathroom, and then girls room up here if we had to. You know in the future.” “Or you could keep your office if I have two boys or two girls. Since you live up there, you’d have to take care of em if I put any spillover kids upstairs. Maybe we could put that baby monitor receiver in your room!” She teased. “You’re breastfeeding aren’t you!” I blanched looking mortified. No way I wanted to get up at night! “Hell, I don’t know! That’s at least after college and the first year of work or so!” Her face scrunched. “I have to wait like three FLIPPING years to live vicariously through your motherhood!” I mock panicked. “OMG! You’re going to have to get a handle on that fucking mouth before you burn my poor baby’s ears off with your verbal filth!” Becca teased me. “Why I never! My momma would probably spank me to this day if she caught me talking like you! Those poor babies!” I giggled. We broke off in a fit of laughter. Becca hugged closely to me as we walked back into her room hip to thigh. It was a big impressive room too. I really liked her room, but it was the view I was in love with even if my room was a bit bigger. I was truly happy for her and thrilled to be sharing the house with her. She ran a hand down my hair and stepped away from me taking my hand again. More touchy-feely boundaries were broken that day than in both of my previous dating relationships! I didn’t know what to do. I already loved Becca, but I didn’t see other people behaving like this with their friends. Course, one has to leave the house to see other people... Going to have to hit the internet for some research. I’m not sure if I should be offended or not. Still, it’s nice to be this close to someone. I decided. “God we can do anything in here! It’s so huge!” She said sounding like she was in a bit of a weird mood. “I could fit my whole dorm room in here fridge and microwave and everything!” Becca pointed out. “I won’t have an oven upstairs, but I don’t cook much so that wouldn’t be a problem!” I said getting truly excited. “Well, you’ll be eating downstairs with the family anytime I cook.” Becca asserted. “Bah you cook all the time! I’m going to wear out my welcome!” I worried. “Honey, you can’t wear out your welcome. You know why? It’s because your family, and I love you!” She reminded me. “I don’t wanna mess up the whole newlywed humping like rabid bunnies vibe you two have.” I giggled. We left Birch House in a good mood having spent some time in it dreaming of our futures. We headed over to Becca and Trent’s place and grabbed the boxes Trent had brought home for packing. It was enough boxes to move a whole house of people. Becca ran into PIzza Hut for a hot and ready pizza on our way to my hotel. The Packing had started. “Ok, Let’s pack this shit!” She giggled grabbing a piece of ham off the top of our pizza. “Oh I give up! Wish I had something to shove in your mouth so you wouldn’t foul up my air!” I said laughing at her potty mouth. “I’m sure I’ll spontaneously stop cursing as soon as the house is packed with diapers and pacifiers… Till then, Fuck Off!” She cackled at herself. “Let’s watch a movie or something while we pack.”