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  1. This role play is about a little girl named Laura. Who is adopted by a loving couple who live in a big house.
  2. It was a night like others at Tokyo and like usual Usagi Tsukino was gone out to fight the usual bad monster who tried to attack the city. She runned a lot of to reach the attacked place and once she was there, with some breathlessness she recited her presentetion formula. But, unfortunately, she didn’t noticed that Chibiusa had secretly followed her because she wanted so much watch the young warrior girl fight.
  3. ABAlex

    Karma

    Anna shuffled around the piles of books lining the walls and shelves. "Introduction to Wicca," "Witchcraft", "Malleus Maleficarum,"- all themed to match the odd little shop, full of incense and stones, skulls and bones. A lot of nonsense, as far as Anna was concerned."Can I help you find something," the clerk asked. She had long, ragged dark hair that blended into her black clothes, and wore dozens of metal pendants.Anna looked at her. "Yes, its said online you sold journals here?"The woman smiled. "Yes, of a type. Here, let me show you."She bent over and opened up a drawer. Inside were leather bound books with brightly coloured titles. "Travel," "New Worlds", "Karma," "Spirit." Anna tried not to roll her eyes at the hipster names the journals always had. She had picked up the hobby of writing daily a few months ago, and had since gone through a few such books, though they were ususally from more normal book stores."Thanks, I'll take er... Karma," she said.The woman smiled again. "Good choice. But be warned, with great power, comes great responsibility. Karma strikes both ways." "Thanks uncle Ben. Now how do I pay?"Anna was outside the store a moment later."Hey there sweetheart," a deep voice said.Anna stopped and turned around to see a blond haired and a medium build. She shuddered. "Ugg, I told you to leave me alone Ryan.""Awww sweetie why so upset? I'm just wanna be friends with my little girl." He put a hand on her shoulder.She knocked it off. "No, your a pervert. Leave me alone or I'll call the cops?""And what? I'll deny it. 'Sides, you sure loved it when we were dating.""We went on two dates then I found out you were already sleeping with someone." That had been one of the worst episodes of her life. He seemed so friendly when they first met, then got worse once they were out. At the second date another woman came in screaming wanting to know why she was out with her boyfriend. "You still loved it." He grabbed her by the waist and leaned in close. "Awww, whats wrong? Need a kiss?" He began to make kissy faces at her."LET ME GO!" she screamed, and slapped him.He laughed. "Fiesty. Alright, I can see its your time of the month. I'll come back next week.""Asshole!"He winked, and as he passed by her, he reached around her and spanked her hard."Hey! How dare you... What are you..." He only laughed as she screamed after him.Anna stopped her foot. The horrible, awful man! She had just gotten over him too.She breathed heavily to calm herself. This is why she started writing in the first place. She got out the journal and began writing."Today, Ryan grabbed me. I wish someone would do the same to him. I want someone bigger to him to come up and call him a little girl. Grab him, call him demeaning names, kiss him and spank him and make him feel as awful as he makes others feel."She felt better having just written it. She began to walk back down the sidewalk toward her home. It was a cool day, but the sun was out, and she was enjoying the weather while it lasted.She heard a yelp coming from across the street. She looked across it to see Ryan, with his eyes wide open, staring at a man a head taller then him."Whats the matter sweetheart? I just want to be friends with my little girl," the man said in a gruff voice."What? I'm, not... LET ME GO! Hey!"The giant man picked Ryan up and kissed him on the cheek. "Wow, feisty," he said. "Must be your time of the month. I'll come back next week." He spanked Ryan hard enough to make him shout, then walked away, leaving a stunned Ryan staring after him.Anna couldn't believe her eyes. Had she made that happen? It couldn't be.But... could that just be a coincidence? She had never seen a man that size before, and she had never seen Ryan mistaken for a girl. The entire scenario was weird... aside from Ryan, who would behave like that to a random stranger in public? They weren't even at a bar or anything.She had to test it. Ryan was walking quickly. She opened the book."Ryan will trip... now."As she wrote it, a rock appeared under Ryan's foot, and he stumbled to the ground. He kicked the rock angrily, and began to get back up. How far could she push it?"He will trip again, and his pants will tear and fall. Underneath he will have pink underwear. He won't be able to hold his pants up."As he was getting up, he stumbled again. His pants opened and fell to his knees."God dammit!" he said. His anger turned to shock when he saw his underwear- pink, small, and lacy, they so clashed with what he normally wore that he seemed unable to beleive they were there. From the distance, Anna wasn't certain if they were just briefs or actual female panties. "Where did these come from?" He said, and reached down to cover them."Ryan will step on a rake and it will fly up and hit him."A rake, seemingly out of no where, smacked into his face."He will turn around and there will be another one there, then another, and another," she wrote, taking a line from the Simpsons.She burst out laughing as Ryan repeatedly hit himself in the head and stumbled backwards. "This is impossible," she said, looking at the book. However, she saw it in front of her. It had to be true.She noticed another woman behind Ryan giggling, and Ryan turned to her red faced and tried to rush down the road, but stumbled with his pants around his legs and fell to the ground. That gave Anna another idea."A crowd of people notice, including Ryan's friends, and begin laughing and commenting on his underwear."Ryan attracted a crowd as he walked down the street, struggling to hold his pants up. "Ryan will fall, end up stuck with his butt in the air, and get spanked."She burst out laughing harder as she saw exactly that unfold. She looked down at the book."This is going to be fun," she said to herself.Anna was soon in her apartment alternating between pacing and dancing. She had found a magic book somehow. She was able to control... what, exactly? Almost anything, it seemed. What should she do? How did the magic work? It said Karma, so it made sense she could get revenge... wait, was that what karma was? Could she give herself things.She thought for a moment. "I might as well try," she told herself."I want a million dollars," she wrote, and waited. She looked around, expecting to see money somewhere, but nothing happened. She had a thought. She sat at her computer, turned it on, and checked her bank account. Her eyes went wide.There, in plain black and white, was the number "$1,000,000," written exactly like that."I want another million." Before her eyes, the number doubled. She screamed in delight. She stood up and fell to her bed, clutching the book to her chest and laughing.How could this be real? Should she check back at the store? No, she thought. If they found out it was real, they might want it back. She studied the book. It was hers."I don't want to have to go to work for the next month."Her phone buzzed. She picked it up. "Hello Anna. The product you created at work the other day paid of well, and we decided to give you the next month off. I know it seems an odd decision, but for some reason it feels right. -Albert Herald."She leaned back in her chair laughing. Her mind swarmed with thoughts of what she was going to do. A new house? A pool?She looked at the title. "Karma." What did that mean? Was it just a random title? The first thing made sense, Ryan had it coming, but the others?She smiled to herself. The primary motivation must be to give people their comeuppance, she decided. But it wouldn't hurt to give herself some things along the way. After all, how could she have enough time to do her new job unless she had money?She opened the book and began to write. "Tomorrow, Ryan will..."...Ryan woke up the next day shaking. He had a rough night full of humiliating dreams. He had been repeatedly mistaken for a girl, left naked in public, grabbed and harassed... It was all from that odd incident on the sidewalk. What could it mean?He got up, showered, and began to get ready for work. He dried off, looked in the mirror, and gasped.Had his hair gotten longer? It was touching his shoulders! He had never grown it out that far before but there it was. Some kind of bizarre hair only growth spurt?Confused, he shook his head, went to his closet and began to get dressed. He made sure he had normal underwear this time, along with his regular jeans and shirt. He packed a bag with the shirt he had to wear in the cafe he worked at, ate breakfast quickly, and left. As he exited the door he noticed something. He hadn't shaved that morning, but his face was smoother then it ever had been....Anna was standing across the street from his door. She saw him walking out, and confirmed to herself that everything had worked. Longer hair, clean shaven, and ready for a new game.She began to write....A woman was walking toward Ryan. She was one of a few people he had passed, but she definitely stood out. He had to do a double take when he saw her.She was tall, well built, and with long blond hair. However, it wasn't her appearance that caught Ryan's attention, but her clothes. She was dressed head to two in in one of the most eye catching outfits he had seen. Her dress was a vibrant pink, with frilled bands going over her shoulders and a skirt that flared out to the sides, ending half way down her thighs. A white shit was under her dress, but rather then just cover her up more, it drew more attention, with ruffled shoulder cuffs and a heard shaped hole over her chest. Below her skirt long white stockings that were tied at her knees with red bows and shinning, healed shoes. Finally, her hair was tied into pigtails with heart shaped bows.Ryan tried to place the dress. Was she cosplaying as an anime character? Was this a lolita dress? Had she come from a comic con?His thoughts were interrupted as she stopped close in front of him, noticed a coin on the ground, and bent to pick it up. Her skirt flared up, exposing ruffled lacy underwear. Ryan couldn't control himself, he took his phone out and, while she was looking away, took a picture.She stood up when the flash went off. Ryan cursed himself for forgetting."What was that? she said.Ryan decided to keep going, hoping confidence would win. "Just admiring your underwear, sweetheart. Almost pretty enough to touch.""Excuse me?" she said."Well you were bending over and your pretty ass was out, so i figured I'd snap a picture. Such a cute little girl like you needs to be remembered." He reached out to hold her shoulder, and she knocked his hand away."I'm taller then you, shrimp. Don't test me," she said."Ok ok, don't get feisty. I'm sorry sweetheart." He began walking passed her.She rolled her eyes and continued on. Ryan kept watching as she passed, and saw her skirt bouncing, exposing more of her thighs with each step, stopping just short of her underwear. Almost instinctively, he reached over and pinched her beneath her skirt, then started walking as quickly as he cloud.He stopped walking as he was pulled backward. With speed that shocked Ryan, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him back. "That does it!" she shouted. "I am dressed for a display of the costumes at the store I design at. Its my JOB, not permission to grab me." She began twisting his wrist backward until he shouted."I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he screamed, tears forming."Oh no you are not, not yet. Lets she how you like it," she turned his wrist again, this time leaving him bent over a wooden bench with his hand behind his back. She reached foward and undid his belt."What are you doing?""First I'm going to show you how it feels to have your underwear exposed and grabbed in public. Then I am going to do what someone should have done to you years ago."She pulled down his pants. Ryan saw a flash and noticed as crowd of people taking pictures of his underwear."Nice panties bro!" someone shouted, and Ryan looked back to once again see his underwear replaced, this time with silken white panties decorated with little red hearts."How!? Those aren't mine!" he said."Yeah right," said the woman who had grabbed him. "Almost pretty enough to touch, eh?" She reached down and pinched both cheeks until he yelped."Now, to make sure you've learned you're lesson..." She reached her hand up into the hair, palm down.Ryan's eyes went wide. She was about to deliver a spanking, and not a light one. Here? Now? How could this be happening to him? He struggled but couldn't break her grasp. "No, please don't," he begged."Don't what?" she asked, savouring the moment."Don't spank me," he replied."Awww does the the little boy not want spankings? Too bad," she brought her hand down with immense force on Ryan's exposed underwear, and he shouted. She began spanking him again and again as the crowd watching grew and laughed. The loud smacks echoed down the street, and Ryan noticed more and more people coming to see.Why would no one step in? Ryan thought. It felt so wrong.Soon tears were forming in his eyes, and he began to sob from both the humiliation and pain. She kept spanking him as he shouted."Please, enough, I'm sorry," he said.She stopped. Ryan thought he was free, then he groaned as he felt her take his belt out of its loops."No, not that.""Yes, that." She lifted the belt up and hit him hard. He screamed and would have fallen if she didn't put her knee under him to hold him up. She began to talk as she spanked, punctuating each word with a loud, hard whack. "WHAT. PEOPLE. WEAR. ISN"T. PERMISSION. TO. GRAB. THEM. YOU. WILL. NOT. DO. THAT. AGAIN. UNDERSTOOD?""Yes!" he shouted."Now what do you say?""I'm sorry," he whined."Good," she helped him stand up. She pointed down the street in the direction he had been heading. "Now, you are going to keep walking that direction with your pants around your knees so everyone can see what happens to naughty little boys in panties who can't keep their hands to themselves." She handed him his belt. "You may put this on when you are passed the corner and out of my sight. If you don't listen, you'll get another round. Understood?""But... but..."She spanked him hard again. "UNDERSTOOD?""OW! Yes!""Then go!"Ryan began to waddle, pants around his knees keeping him from running. He sobbed and tried to ignore the jeers and cat calls from the people who he passed. He felt more then one reach out and grab him as he want.Finally he rounded the corner, pulled his pants up, and started running as he pulled his belt on. He ran as fast as he could, trying to stop crying, until he was sure he was passed anyone who had seen, then kept running.He stumbled. Got up, and started running again. He wobbled. He felt as if he was walking on a rope.He looked down, and he shouted in shock.The reason he was having trouble running was easy to see. Why it had happened was impossible for him to figure out.He was wearing a dress. Not just any dress, but the one the girl had been wearing. Same skirt, same socks, even had his now bizarrely long hair tied in the same pigtails. He had stumbled due to the heels now on his feet.There was a store beside him with a display window, and he looked at his reflection in it. With his outfit, his hair, and apparently a bra under the dress, he might have mistaken himself for a girl. It even seemed like his legs had been shaven, and he was wearing make up.He yelped. Someone had just grabbed him under his skirt. "Nice underwear, sweetie."He whined. "How is this happening?" he asked....Anna broke out laughing at Ryan's appearance. She couldn't have designed a better outfit if she tried. It really looked more like a costume then actual clothes. He could pass as someone cosplaying an anime character.Ryan walked along the side walk, head down, and stumbling slightly in his heels. His face was blushing as red as the bows in his hair- and, Anna thought to herself, as red as his recently spanked bottom in its pretty panties.Anna wasn't quite down yet. She began writing and watching.Ryan attracted a crowed for the second time in two days. This time, however, instead of it just being people pointing and laughing- and there was plenty of that- she mixed in a crowd of men who suddenly decided Ryan was the prettiest girl they had ever seen...."I love your dress! Its so pretty" the giant man said as he reached out."Let me go!" Ryan squealed, then yelped and covered his mouth, frighted by how high his voice had suddenly gotten."Aww sweetie, why? I'm sure a cute girl like you could use a hug."Ryan began to run, but the heels made him stumble and he fell... right over the lap of another man sitting at a bus stop. He felt his skirts fly up, and reached down to cover his panties as people cheered and laughed behind him. He felt hands grab his now exposed cheeks, and someone commented that 'she' must have gotten a spanking."Hellos sweetheart," the man whose lap he was now over said. "What pretty undies! Thanks for showing them to me! You want to hang out later?" He patted Ryans bottom."No!" Ryan said. He pushed himself up, straitened, and tried to turn over until he was sitting. He paused a moment, and realized he had just sat down in the stranger's lap."Aww honey," the man said, and wrapped an arm around Ryan."No!" he said, and began to push up. He finally made it, and began running.He did his best to ignore the crowds as he did. Most seemed to think he was a girl with a flamboyant sense of style, which he guessed was for the best. He could do without the catcalling, however.He made it to the cafe. He breathed, straitened his skirt, and looked at his watch. His eyes went wide. 10:30 it read, he was two and a half hours late. "How..." he said.THe door opened. It was Mr. McLaughlin, his boss. He sighed."Ryan, what are you doing?""I uhh..." Ryan hadn't stopped to think of an explanation, and was surprised that Mr. McLaughlin recognized him."Look, what you do in your private time is your own business, I don't mind, no matter how... strange. However, you have been late far too many times, and I can't have you working like that.""What?! But!""No butts. Did you even bring your work clothes?"Ryan gulped. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do? Anyway I can make up for it?"He sighed and rolled his eyes. He put a hand on his chin and thought. Suddenly he smiled. "Give me a second."He went back into the store and returned a minute later he returned followed by two people. One was carrying a tray of samples, the other a stand."What..." "We are going to start a new program. People your age like this sort of thing, right? Cosplay, anime characters, cute outfits.""I mean, some do..." Ryan tried to think if he actually knew someone who talked about it.He handed Ryan a teddy bear. "You are going to be our new mascot to appeal to a new group! You are going to stand here in your cute outfits... and I'm sure we'll find more... flirt with anyone going by and offer free samples of our newest teas.""What!? I can't do that! You want me here in public dressed like this?!""Yes. Cute cross dressed boys are thing online for some reason. You are going to be ours. Think of it- "The Sissy Cafe!" Its new branding we've been considering, and you will be our first server! With any luck, people might think your a girl, or won't care. Now, be sure to smile!" He waved his arms around as the two people who came with him set up the stand. It was a small stage with a banner reading "sissy service."He went in, then stopped. "Oh, another thing. People will flirt with you, some might want kisses or get handsy... are you alright with that?"Ryan was far from alright with it. However, he felt he didn't have a choice, and inwardly he felt compelled to say yes. There weren't many other jobs he could do inside the cafe, dressed as he was, and he couldn't afford not to get paid. "I... I guess so...""Good. It will be part of our marketing. Be sure to offer kisses!"He went back in, leaving a dumbfounded Ryan outside. He wanted to run, or to hide. However, with the wide windows and cameras, he knew his mangers would see if he wasn't doing his job.He had begun to attract a crowd again. He always seemed to do that now. He turned to face them. "Uh... do you want some tea... or a kiss?"...Anna savored every moment of the discussion. Ryan had bragged before about taking from the till, and now was being punished at his job. That was DEFINITELY karma.But she wasn't done yet. Ryan had always said she was a LITTLE girl, not just a girl. She'd show him how 'little' he could feel. The teddy bear was just a beginning, she had her own ideas of what he might look good in. She began to write. "As he's heading home, Ryan will get lost, and feel his bladder beginning to ache..." This story currently is mainly focused on sissy kink, but ABDL will come up a lot more, with a heavy focus on messy diapers and embarrassment. (even more so then usual for me)
  4. Heyooo! Looking for people to roleplay with. The idea is that two sisters are left home alone with the younger one in charge. Anything can be discussed further in PM’s. I also have discord, in case you’d like to leave your name and tag in the comments below for me to add you there.
  5. Aizawa Shouta was fed up with his obnoxious little brother. The man was always annoying and kept pulling stupid pranks on him to get a laugh. He decided to get revenge, see how he liked being pranked for once. He entered an ABDL, Daddy and little searching website after his brother called him a baby, and filled out a long form explaining that sissy needed a stern hand and lots of big, thick diapers. Bill also added some rules: Rule 1: Sissy is not allowed to take off her diapers under any circumstances. Rule 2: Sissy must allow Daddy or another adult to check her diapers anytime if they think she’s had an accident. Rule 3: Sissy needs to talk like a baby and never say naughty words, or else she’ll get a spanking. Rule 4: Sissy must allow Daddy to baby her at home and in public. The long-haired man sighed in relief after submitting the form, but much to his eventual dismay, he had put his own name in the form where the sissy’s name is meant to go...
  6. Alex struggled helplessly in his binds. Stuck in a diaper and dress, gagged with an oversized pacifier, and with a bright red ribbon wrapped around, he could do nothing but wait. He supposed that was what he was a Christmas present for someone. The only question was for whom. It was a question that had haunted him since the day he arrived at the training institute. Like everyone, he knew there was someone paying for him. Like most, he had no idea who they were, when he’d see them, or what they intended to use him for. There were several reasons someone could end up in the institute. A scant few were volunteers- people choosing the submissive lifestyle, often for a kink, or out sheer laziness, giving up freedom to be guaranteed food and shelter rather then work their entire lives and risk homelessness. This, in Alex’s opinion, was a poor trade and a worse excuse for a career. Others seemed to think they eventually be guaranteed a place their anyway, and so volunteered. The advantage there was that they could at least pick the manner of their submissiveness, and have some control over who their eventual master was. Had Alex known that would be necessary for him, he’d have taken that route. He shifted uncomfortably in his binds, his arms getting stiff, and his diaper beginning to chaff his spanked bottom. He definitely would have. Alex, for himself, was one of the many who had been chosen against their will. Some of them had obvious reasons for going. They had committed clear crimes, were put on trial, and plea-bargained out of jail or were sentenced directly. They stood out at first in the first days at the institute. Trying to look tough, with tattoos on their arms and glares on their faces, until they realized this just made them all the more ridiculous. Alex was in a final category- those who had no idea at all why he was brought. He had simply went to bed one night after drinking at a bar, blacked out, and woken up already locked and dressed in the institute, with his form of submissiveness and master chosen for him. Many had similar stories, or were dragged from public places kicking and screaming, or got into cabs that went in completely the wrong directions… There was a long list. They were usually given a explanation. Vague allegations of minor crimes, poor behavior, a likeliness of future crimes or failures, internet search histories, having failed some kind of government test- there were plenty. Alex had a mix of these, with the same accusations of brattiness and immaturity that most who ended up in diapers got. They may be true, he knew, but he tended to believe the rumor that the institute simply needed to sell certain number of submissive to operate and did what was necessary to keep going. The government turned a blind eye and the public kept silent less they be chosen- they were fulfilling a needed service, anyway. For Alex, it was hard to argue. They seemed to know everything about him, and his trove of 'secret' stories about similar kinks was brought up time and time again as a reason. Whether they knew about them when they grabbed him or coincidently found out after searching was beyond him. Alex moaned inwardly thinking of it. The struggled slightly, hearing the tissue paper and his diaper rustle, then stopped. He glanced at the paddle beside him. Tauntingly cute looking, but sharp and painful, he had been given a taste of it earlier and threatened with more if he woke anyone up. He was a Christmas present, and just like any other gift supposedly from Santa Clause, he would not be seen until morning. Waking them up would spoil the surprise, and he had been trained to obey. That training itself had been a nightmare. When he first woke up that day long ago, he had no idea what was happening. He had woken up slowly at first, feeling a slight headach, then bolted up when he noticed he was in a strange room surrounded by bars. “No” he had thought, “it can’t be…” IN reality it was obvious- he had long known about the training program, and that the diapered subs were one of options, but like most, he had never thought it would happen to him. When it did, he did everything in his power to deny it to himself. He had quickly glanced down at himself to see he was dressed in bright pink footed pyjamas and a bulky object he later realized was a diaper. He tried to scream out, only to find his mouth full of something he later realized was a pacifier. He tried to remove it, only to find his hands were wrapped in thick, fingerless mittens, leaving them useless. He looked around himself, and confirmed his suspicions. The bars he had once thought were for a cage were in fact part of a crib, and the room was a giant nursery, decorated cutely, with a changing table, high chair, and toys all clearly intended for him. A pit had begun to form in his stomach. A woman, not much older then Alex, came in beaming. He still remembered the first words she said. “Hello, how’s my little baby doing?” She spoke in a sweet, familiar voice, as if he truly was a baby girl and there was nothing strange at all with him being there. The rest of the day had followed suit. He was offered no explanation and given no chance to ask for one. He was carted helplessly from humiliation to humiliation, unable to get out of the arms, baby harnesses and strollers that held him, and unable to speak with the pacifier in his mouth, only leaving it for feedings. That day he wasn’t even treated as a sub, but simply as a baby. Spankings or other punishments weren’t necessary yet- he was too restrained and bewildered to fight, he was simply there to learn his place. He was fed, talked to in baby gibberish or simply ignored, and changed. THAT was a memory that had stuck with him, not because of the teasing or punishment, but because of the lack there of. “Do you smell something?” one has said calmly. “I think the baby has a stinky butt” the other replied with no sign of surprise. “Check him?” Alex was bent over, his onesie undone. “Yep,” then, in the high pitched joking voice used for infants, “has the baby made a stinky? Does she need to get her butt changed? YES SHE HAS! YES SHE DOES!” The lack of mocking and teasing had made it seem all the worse, as if it was something natural that should be expected. The truth was, as he would learn, it soon would be. As Alex was lain on the floor in a main hallway and changed as the pair in front of him talked on as if nothing was wrong, he had even begun to wonder if he really was a baby, and the last few decades of his life were some bizarre dream. It seemed a better option then being a submissive. The real training had started the next day.
  7. 1950potty

    Flyswatter

    This was triggered by a discussion on another forum. Was anyone spanked with a flyswatter? How would you rate compared to other implements? Was it plastic, leather,screen wire or something else?
  8. It was like something out of a Stephen King novel. A strange, twisted version of Misery.Except Misery was already twisted. Did this count as more or less twisted? A horror novel against... whatever this was?"This is still pretty twisted," Alex thought as he stared around what now made up his bedroom. He was locked in a high walled crib, which itself was surrounded by a playing mat, blocks, a high chair, and, he shuddered remembering, a changing table. To some degree, it was a scenario he was familiar with, one he had written about many times, and even played out a few. What made this different was that this was no longer a game. And, oddest of all, as if pushing the strangeness of the whole scenario home, he turned to the back wall. There, in swirling, glittering and star studded writing, was his name. Or, his name as his captors knew it, "ABAlex."He winced looking at it. However, it was still better then what was on the other side. THAT he didn't even want to think about.His outfit matched the room perfectly well. He had a cardigan sweater, black t shirt, collar and long stockings which would almost look punk rock if it weren't for their designs. The t shirt was decorated with colorful cats, and the only aspect of his odd outfit that seemed to match were the pink polka dots on both his sweater and socks. He put a hand to his neck. The collar was far from the decorative ones people wore for fashion, though he supposed it could pass as one in public. He had already been shown how well a leash could be locked onto it, and the annoying invisible wall and shocks he'd run into where ever his masters decided to set them. He had tried numberous times to take it off, but that only resulted in punishments reminder of how futile it was. And, finally, there was the coup de grace of the outfit, the one thing that removed any chance of the rest of his clothes being passed off as normal, and the one thing that turned any possible rebellious or punk themes of it into a sick joke. A diaper, pink and thick enough to force his legs apart, was uncovered and taped firmly on. At this point he knew better then to mess with those tapes. He blushed as he did almost every time he looked at it or thought of it, a fact his masters knew well and exploited as much as possible.He heard a key turn in the outwardly locked door in the corner. In strode a tall, well dressed man. He had short cropped blond hair and was smiling broadly."Well hello there little ABAlex, how you feeling?""My names not..." Alex felt his anger boiling up. "WHY WOULD MY NAME BE AN ACRONYM FOR A FETISH?" Alex instantly regretted shouting. In his first week he had learned to try to hold back his anger and frustration with his captors. However, it constantly built up inside him, and still came out in outbursts. Making matters worse was their seeming unwillingness to acknowledge that he even WAS a captive, and their misuse of his pen name drove the point home. Did they really think ABAlex DLAlex was a name? Or was this some bizarre joke?"HEY! YOU DON'T SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY!" the man said, shaking a finger."I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Alex pleaded.The man folded his arms and looked expectantly. "I'm sorry what?" He said.Alex cringed again. "I'm sorry... Daddy." He finally finished. He was one of a few people Alex now had to call such names. There was also a 'mommy," a few aunts and uncles, and babysitters. Like a child, he only ever used their titles, and sometimes portions of their names. He wasn't sure if the names he was given were real or not, he seemed to remember hearing "Daddy" was named "Mike.""Good baby. Now, sit up and let me check your diaper."Alex winced. "Its clean," he said, trying to avoid the humiliating patting down that normally came after.The man came up anyway, pulling Alex up from sitting to his knees, and began patting it."I said its clean!"'Silly baby, you think if we can't trust you to be out of diapers, we'd trust you to tell us when it was used?" He ruffled Alex's hair.Alex could only blush as the man seemed to take extra time to confirm his diaper wasn't used. He finished patting it, then bent Alex over and but his head near his back, and finally pulled the top out on both sides before letting it snap back to Alex's waist."Good baby! You managed to keep it clean! It seems you were lucky with your guess." He ruffled Alex's hair again. Alex could only groan. "Now, how is your story coming?""Uhhh..." Alex stared down at the blank sheet of paper, too afraid to answer. The man pulled it from his hands.'NOTHING!? You've been here an hour!"'I know Daddy! I'm sorry, I just can't think!""You spoiled little..." The man sighed. "Now look, I know you like to play these games and get in trouble, but we really do need you to work. Thats the deal- your dream life, but you write to pay for it. You don't want a repeat of what happened last time you refused to right, do you?" He changed from a condescending smile to an inquisitive look. "Do you?"Alex groaned inwardly. He had just laid out the final indignity of the entire situation. Not only was Alex a captive, but he was forced to pay for his own captivity. He was ordered to write kink stories for hours every day, which were then sold online. As long as Alex kept going, they spent the money on more childish toys and clothes for him to add to his embarrassment. But if he stopped... he shook his head. The last time he stopped, they stopped buying diapers for a week. He ended up locked in the same set of diapers and plastic pants for days, struggling in an uncomfortable mess until he finally produced something worth selling, then he had to wait or shipment... He didn't want to repeat that, especially not with the rash that followed. The fact that his "Daddy" seemed to think he might actually want it and be trying to get it again terrified him."I don't want a repeat Daddy," he said. "And I don't like to play these games! I told you, I don't want this at all! It was all just stories! I'm not acting up to 'get in trouble," I really don't like it here!"The man laughed. "Suuure. Of course not." He patted Alex's head. "Silly ABAlex. We know what you want. You love your pampers. After all, you wrote about them a thousand times.""BUT ITS NOT WHAT I WANT!""Thats enough. We gave you what you wanted. You live your dream, but you have to produce stories to pay for it. Now, keep writing, or you'll spend another week in stinky diapers. Is that what you want, you little brat? You certainly wrote about it enough, and alllways had the AB's whining just like you are now. You know we have to put up with the smell too!""No! I don't want that!""You always said that but it always happened. Just admit it, write the stories and have fun in your huggies.""Huggies? I thought you said they were pampers daddy," Alex said with mock innocent.The man glared. "Are you going to listen or will I have to really punish you?"Alex stopped. He wasn't going to win this argument. This is why safety words are important, he thought. They didn't seem to want any though. "I'll write the stupid story," he grumbled.'Good. Don't be a brat. We are doing what you want, you have to pay back somehow."Alex stuck his toung out. That, at least, was a childish enough response to be accepted.The situation had begun a few months back the first time Alex had attended an ABDL convention. At the time, he hadn't thought much of it. It was a new thing for him, but he had talked to others who had gone and it seemed fine. However, that night would change his life in ways he wouldn't dreamed of....Alex walked through rows and rows of stalls in the massive gymnasium turned abdl convention. There were diapers everywhere, some uncovered, others hidden by babyish onesies and short skirts. Alex looked down at his own clothes. Jeans, a shirt, nothing out of the ordinary. He almost felt under dressed. Should he have bought something and dressed up for this? He supposed he could have at least worn something pink. Would a diaper have been too much? A lot of people seemed to be wearing them. However, he'd still be wearing one in public, a big no in his mind. There was also having to bus and walk all the way to the convention... It couldn't have happened.He looked at the signs on the stalls, and found one for writers. He walked toward it. There was a group standing around it, some of them talking, others passing around bundles of paper or signing them. He was still nervous. Was there point in going? Its not like anyone would even know who he was... or would they? They were there specifically for ABDL stories, and he had been writing for a while... Still though, he doubted it. He wasn't sure what was worse, having people recognize him, or be confused as to why he was there while more prominent artists were praised. He swallowed his fear, and walked forward."Hi... I'm Alex," he said shyly. He had signed up for this area, but how should he approach it? It was not like people would really know who he was?"Oh, are you one of the writers?" a brown haired girl with a clipboard said."Yes. Alex. Umm... it might say ABAlex.""OH!" she looked through her list. "Yes, right here.""Don't you need ID or something?""What? In case someone is pretending to be a sissy who writes stories about messy diapers for a living? No, I don't think so.""ITS NOT-""Now now, don't have a tantrum and fill your pampers. The changing room is on the other side of the floor, and from what I've heard your diaper butt isn't exactly fragrant.""THE AROMA OF MY BACKSIDE IS NOT UP FOR DISCUSSION!" Alex sighed. "I don't write for a living, its just a...""Oh, so a diaper filling baby who can't even make money off of his stories? Thats MUCH better.""ITS A HOBBY! And I'm not wearing a diaepr!""Oh, you aren't?" She glanced down at his waist. "Thats irresponsible. We don't want you making a mess on the floor. This better not be one of your kinks, wetting yourself in your so called 'big boy clothes' before being forced into diapers. You've certainly wrote about that enough, Mr. ABAlex.""Its not... wait, you read my..."Alex was cut off by a hand on his shoulders. He turned to see a tall blond haired man."I'm sorry, did I just hear that ABAlex wasn't wearing a diaper?""Yes, that's true," the woman said."And why not?" the man asked Alex.Alex blushed. Since when should he have to explain why he, a full grown man, WASN"T wearing a diaper? "Well I uhh... its not really a thing, I just write about it...""Liar. We all heard your stories." There was some mumbling in agreement. Alex looked around, being uncomfortably aware of a group of people surrounding him, all watching and seeming to agree with the strange man's assessment.Another woman, this one a red head wearing a 50-s style dress, came up and grabbed Alex's other shoulder. "This is probably just a game for him. In all his stories he starts off without diapers and is made to wear them. Its probably what he wants, isn't it, ABAlex.""No! Those are just stories! I'm not a baby!""Isn't that what he always says? You deny it, then are forced into submissive training, or brought to a pageant..." another from the crowed said. Alex became more and more nervous as he realized he was being ganged up on."Or spanked by the babysitter," the woman said. Alex gulped when he noticed she had taken a paddle out from her pocket.Alex turned around and walked backwards away from them, trying to put space between hem but not look like he was running. "Guys, guys, I appreciate that you read my stuff, but those are all just stories! Its a hobby...""So your hobby is writing horrible stories about grown men and woman in diapers? Really? It might have been better to just admit you are a baby who needs diapers yourself.""Barely writes at that. Your posting output is certainly not responsible to your fans. Definitely better to admit you're a baby, then you'd have an excuse. Need breaks from writing for diaper changes?"Alex laughed, hoping it was a joke. "No no, I actually don't wear....""Oh? Never? So if I look at your profile I will find no evidence that makes you a liar? You know what happens to liars in your own stories? It involves soap, in case you've forgotten."Alex gulped. "RARELY use them.""So you do wear diapers then?" another asked."Ummm... sometimes..."The man grabbed him again. "And you didn't think that if you were coming to a DIAPER convention full of people wearing DIAPERS and people who are fans of your stories about DIAPERS, you shouldn't have worn a diaper? If anything for your fans? Seems irresponsible.""You're actually a fan!?" Alex cut off the question realizing how silly it was to suddenly be happy about that. "Welll... you're not wearing a diaper either!"The man shook his head. "I don't write about myself filling them. I also don't have people waiting to see me in a diaper and baby clothes.""Th... there are people wiating to see me?" What could THAT mean?The man suddenly smiled. "Its ok little one. All just a joke. Here, can we take a picture with you?""Umm... I guess so...""Good. Drink this while we do. For effect, you know." He handed Alex a bottle of baby milk.'I don't..." Alex realized he didn't want to start THAT conversation again. He drank from the bottle as they lined up behind him....And that was all he remembered. Next thing he knew he was waking up in a crib, wearing a diaper and a onesie, and staring up into the smiling faces of the same blond man and red haired woman, who he now knew as "mommy" and "daddy."Alex snapped back to reality.The man, now his "Daddy," had turned around at the door."Almost forgot," he said. He returned and picked Alex up, then sat at the edge of the crib and placed Alex in his lap. He took out a bottle of juice. "Can't let the baby go without drinking, can we?""Is there something in this?" Alex asked. He had been suspicious for a long time that they put things in his drinks. Some would make him fall asleep, letting them walk him around in a stroller as he napped and others cood, some would keep him awake, letting him write stories more often, some weakened his muscles so people could 'play' with him, then there was whatever they had given him at the convention, but the worst... He'd have trouble arguing against them, since they denied giving it to him and they featured so heavily in his stories."Hush, don't be silly," his daddy said as he put the bottle to Alex's lips."Uh huh," Alex said sarcastically, but drank anyway. There was no point in arguing. He drank quickly, wanting it to be done. At the end, he could already feel a cramp in his stomach confirming his suspicion. The man patted Alex's back as if burping him, and Alex blushed at the extra moment of babyish treatment. His 'daddy" then set him back down in the crib, kissed him on the forehead and told him to get to work, a shaking finger implying the "or else."....Alex remembered the first day here very clearly.He had sat up very quickly, looking around and confirming that he wasn't dreaming. He reached down to his waist, confirming his suspicion the he was in fact diapered. The embroidered onesie covering it, bright pink and with sparkles spelling "princess" across his chest, wasn't much better then the diaper."Little Lexis awake! Awww the baby seems startled!" the woman said."Please tell me where I am?" Alex asked."Mhmmm. Don't worry, little ABAlex. You are home now, where you belong. We all know that you wanted to be a baby, and the big people world was too much for you. So, enough of that, now you get to write stories and play all day, exactly like you wanted.""What?! NO! Is this a joke? How did you do..." he was cut off as a pacifier was shoved in his mouth."Now now, don't through a tantrum or you are going to get a spanking. You can pretend to be upset if you want, you'll get the punishments you always write about. We all know what you are.""No!" Alex stood up and climbed out of the crib. He tried to run for the open door. He was surprised to find the strangers hadn't tried to stop him. Just as he reached the door, he slammed into something and fell backwards. He got up and moved toward it again, this time slower. He hit a wall as the collar neared the door.The man appeared behind him and hooked a leash onto his collar. "Silly baby. Think we'd just leave that open? We can set a wall for your collar wherever we want it. Normally we will give you more room, but we figured you should find out how it works." He closed the door in Alex's face, then locked it and pocketed the key. "This door can lock from either side anyway."The woman stood beside him and took a hold of his leash. "Now, crawl toward me! Come to mommy!" She began backing away while curling her finger to signal him forward.Alex was panicking. He reached for the leash and collar, trying to undo either but finding it impossible. The leash was locked to the collar, and the collar seemed to be sewn on, almost one piece. Not wanting to endure the humiliation of being lead crawling on a leash, Alex stood up and pulled at it...And fell right back down, feeling a slight, but annoying, shock."Yes, thats the other thing we can do with your collar. Now crawl to mommy," she said, and Alex followed, whining but obediently crawling like a trained puppy. Or a baby girl, he realized.Once they reached the crib, she sat down in front of him. "Now, I know this is your first day, but we can't let you get away with such misbehavior. So, i am going to give you a spanking. If you come over my lap and let me do it without struggling like a good little baby girl, I'll go easy on you. If you fight and I have to force you, and I can with the collar, it will be much worse. OK?"Alex considered his options. Go over her lap, obey like a passive little lamb, humiliating himself with his own weakness or stand up for himself and inevitably get it worse?"I'm waiiitting..." the woman said in a cheery voice.Alex winced. She was half his size, in reality it would be no competition. She din't even seem to be older then him. And yet he was expected to obey her and degrade himself at her whim? Be HER baby and submissive? SHe was patting her lap expectantly, as if knowing the outcome. He was going to get it either way, he knew, and he had already crawled for her.Feeling upset at himself, Alex stood up and willingly lay over her lap."As I expected," She said. "Little sissies can't argue against their mommies or fight for themselves, that's why they need to be taken care of. What a good little sissy baby you are, a good princess."The first spank on his diapered behind had made Alex yelp. They got worse and worse, until Alex was bawling and crying over her lap, begin spanked to tears by someone half his size and too much of a sissy to stand up for himself. At least, that is what he knew it would look like. She had finished his punishment by cradling him in her lap and kissing him as he drank from a bottle, rocking him until his tears stopped. Alex had known at that point it would be almost impossible to ever argue he wasn't what they said he was. He would try, though.That was the beginning of his new life. A seemingly endless stream of humiliations, bizarre outfits and punishments had followed. He was spanked constantly for the smallest misbehavior, then sent to the corner or locked in his high chair to think about his actions. He was diapered constantly, usually wearing childish onesies or dresses along with them. The times he was allowed in public he was given slightly more passable clothing, but still spent most of his time wondering if anyone noticed his bulging undergarments. The smell of diapers surrounded him constantly and filled his room, whether it was combined with the smell of talcum power or something much worse depended on the day. He had learned to avoid crawling near the diaper pail very early on, almost as much as what was on the far wall. THAT he didn't even want to think about. Every part of his life aside from the writing, from the way he was fed, to the way he was talked to, to the way he was put down for his bedtimes and the toys and games he had all matched his new lifestyle. He considered himself lucky his masters thought video games were "childish."Alex had spent weeks hoping it was some kind of joke, perhaps another one of Kacey's pranks. He had tried to escape numerous times, but between locked doors, people always watching him, and the collar that seemed to function as both a wall and a tracking device, he had realized it was almost impossible. Any attempts to argue or fight his way out were just passed off as him deliberately being 'naughty' to get the kink style punishments they assumed he wanted. At this point Alex wasn't sure if they really believed it or were just saying this.At the same time, Alex's output had increased. His new masters had found dozens of ways to make money off of it, everything from a paetron to commissions and exclusive stories for sale, all penned by Alex, and almost all about his own humiliation. This seemed to be part of their own argument too. Whenever Alex pointed to old comments he made about not wanting an ABDL lifestyle as it would be unfullfilling, they pointed to his stories. He had a career, they said, and an arguably successful one. That definitely made up for the rest. If anything, this career was more creative, and let him express himself. When there was extra money, they even took him on trips, flying to other countries and making outings where Alex squirmed and struggled to keep his diapers hidden, but at least in places he wanted to go. It was exactly what he had been talking about. ABDL life, but still a complete life. Alex had not come up with a counter argument, and he doubted they really cared....Alex was once again brought back to reality, this time by a cramping in his own gut."No..." he whispered. He always hated this part. All the rest would almost be passable in comparison. It was the part he argued the most against, but the part his masters seemed the most adamant about.It was coming up quickly. They DEFINITELY had given him something. They must have, he thought.Alex tried to hold it back. He didn't know when they would be back to see him, and he didn't want to sit in it longer then necessary. However, he knew his struggles were pointless.He tried to concentrate on something else. He stared at the pad and pencil, trying to think of something to write. Instead, all he could think of was the growing pain in his stomach.Another cramp came. Involuntarily he jerked up on his knees and stuck his bottom out. A long, loud gush came out from his backside and into his diaper. He groaned, and began pushing. A series of noises came out with each push as his diaper became fuller and fuller. He blushed at each one. They had radios in his room, he knew, and could hear each one. He was certain part of whatever they were giving him deliberately made his mess louder. He held his breath against the smell that came from behind him. And smellier, probably. Well, if that is what they wanted... Alex turned his backside to face the large white teddy bear he knew had a radio in. He brought his backside as close to it as possible, pushed and with a loud "BRAPPPT" he finished filling his diaper right where they would hear it. It was a petty kind of revenge, he knew, and probably worse for him then it was for them. However, if he had to use his diapers, perhaps he could at least make anyone listening jump. Almost on cue, the door opened again. Alex was relieved at first, thinking he'd get a change. Then he turned pale, remembering he had yet to write anything."Hey ABAlex! How are you doing? Have you been a good little girl?" It was his "mommy" this time. His masters seemed to go back and forth between refering to him as a 'baby boy' and 'baby girl,' presumably thinking a sissy counted as somewhere in between. His mommy, however, always preferred the later.She spoke to him in the same sickly sweet tone she always used for him. Unlike his "Daddy," who would openly talk about what was happening as a kink and Alex as an adult in diapers, his "Mommy", never dropped the pretense that he was, in fact, a baby girl. She was the first to cuddle or coo over him, but at the same time, she was often the most malicious. She seemed to delight in watching him blush at her tone as she passed off the most degrading commands as normal, and the first to find reasons to 'discipline' him. She preferred that word over 'punish' as the man said, as she enjoyed the idea that it was for his own good. She couldn't spank as hard as Daddy did, but she had more then one way to make up for it."Y... yes mommy," he said."Hmmm... you don't sound to confident. Hows your story? And let me check your diaper.""Ummm, I need a change mommy!" He said, hoping to stay on the topic that, while humiliating, would not get him punished.'Oh? A change of what? I'm not sure what you are talkiing about."Alex pouted. She always made him say it. "I need a diapie change please mommy.""And why is that? Tell me. Why do I need to change your diaper?""Because..." Alex blushed. "Because its stinky, mommy. I have a stinky diaper.""Why? Say it all and ask nicely now. You don't get to demand changes. You can beg, and mommy decides.""Mommy, my diaper is stinky because I messed it. Can I get a diapie change please?""Better. Now, do big girls mess their diapers?""No...""Who does?"Babies do.""Say it again properly."'Mommy, my diapie is stinky because I am a baby and messed it. Can I get a change please?""Better. And the answer is no.""WHAT!?"She smiled broadly, then grabbed his arms and helped him stand up. "Silly baby!" she said. "You really can't tell when your messy or not, can you? Even daddy was talking about it.""Wh...waht?" Alex was confused.She reached behind him and patted his bottom hard, making him cringe at the feeling. "See? All clean. No need for a diaper change."Alex turned pale as he realized what she was doing.She sat on the crib and pulled Alex down onto her lap, facing him. Alex cringed again as he was forced to sit in his mess, and even more so as she began to bounce him and pat his bottom. "Silly baby girl. We all know babies can't tell when they fill their pampers or not, that is why they need them. You know what? From now on, just let Mommy or Daddy check them and tell you when your messy, ok?"Alex pouted at having this other freedom stripped from him."Anyway, it hasn't been long enough.""What?"She held up his blank writing pad. "See? You haven't even had time to finish your story. There is no way you'd have time to need a diaper change before you had time to finish your story.""What do you ... Oh, I get it." Alex stared at her, unable to hide how unimpressed he was.She didn't seem to mind. "Good baby. Now, about your story..."She sat him down on his bottom, once again making him wince at the feeling. Worse still was the way she had him facing. She did it deliberatly he knew, making him stare at the one thing he tried to avoid the most.'Maybe this will encourage you, little ABAlex" she said, confirming what Alex had thought. She put a pacifier in his mouth. "Now, no talking. No more distractions, no moving or turning around until you are done. You wouldn't want us to have to USE one of those again, would you?"Alex shook his head sadly. She kissed him and walked out happily. Alex looked up at what he had never wanted to see. The far wall was by far the worst of it all, even if it was the one part that didn't fit the babyish theme of the rest of his life.That wall was a large part of the reason he didn't fight back as much as he would if. It stood out clearly, was the only thing that wasn't pastel colored, pink or baby blue. Instead it was a deep red. It, according to his masters, was his 'punishment' wall. That is, when the regular childish punishments- hand spankings, corner times, etc.- weren't enough. It was cover with ropes, chains, paddles and whips, with bondage equipment and machines around it. He had been put through almost all of it at one point to another, twisted into convoluted positions, held in place for hours, or given spankings far worse then his owners's could with their hands. Of everything there, it was the part he wished he could convince them he really did not like, but the part arguing against seemed to confirm his kinks the most for them. So there he was, stuck in a crib, sitting in a messy diaper, facing a wall of bondage equipment, and knowing full well the only way to get out of the crib, get his diaper changed, or avoid the bondage equipment would be to write a story which would be used to fund more locks, diapers, and punishment toys. 'Oh well," he thought. Nothing would come from fighting at this point. He supposed in a way it was what he had said he had wanted... and writing the stories was, in an odd way, fulfilling. He couldn't deny he had an abdl kink, he just never expected it to come so strongly.He needed to think of something. He had been writing story after story for weeks, and was low on ideas. He needed a kink story about someone being treated like a baby or a girl.He suckled his pink pacifier, hoping it would help him think.Often his most popular involved using diapers....He squirmed in his own uncomfortable mess, and crinkled his nose at the smell....Or had punishment, embarrassment or forced aspects to it....He stared at the wall of paddles and ropes.How would he think of a story like that?...Eventually, after considering what to do, he decided what to write. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone what was happening, but most people would take it as a joke anyway. He started writing with "I was like something out of a..."PS: Help! Please, they let this out because I told them people would think its a joke! Help me!PPS: Hahah that was just a silly joke. Even though this story perfectly matches what I always write about and what I truly, deeply want, it is not happening right now. No need to worry or set up search party. Definitely don't look for hidden meanings or messages, say, by reading the first letter of each line after "Alex remembered the first day here very clearly.PPPS: PLEASE DEAR GOD THIS IS NOT A JOKE SOMEONE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY I SWEAR It...PPPPS: All a joke. Move on.
  9. Phillip sighed as he stood facing the front steps. He was in front of a large house, with a dozen iron barred windows and made almost entirely out of stone. It was the kind of place he would never hope to afford.The next part was a bit like ripping off a band aid, he supposed. It was better to get it over with quickly. However, he still stood at the stone steps, not moving. He was still on time, but he knew being late would probably make things worse, and he didn't know how strict they were going to be. He laughed to himself. The fact that he would stand still here while knowing he was better off going forward was probably part off the reason he was here in the first place.It was far from the first time he had been here. He had known the owner for years through his sister, and felt lucky that he had. However, the house, and the implication of wealth, seemed far more opposing now then ever before. Of course, there were a lot of reasons he was here. Not studying for his university courses and letting himself get distracted was part of it. Showing up late, or not at all, to his work until he was fired and couldn't pay for the courses he was failing anyway was another. Trying to cheat and hack the system to get his marks raised and his charges lowered was probably the biggest. Now, someone he only slightly knew had a blank check on his future, and he had know idea how she was going to cash it."Oh well," he thought, and walked forward. There was nothing he could do to change it now. He had agreed to it, if somewhat under duress, he better get it over with.He rang the doorbell.The large wooden door opened, and a cheery, blond haired woman poked her head out."Hello Phillip," she said, smiling. "Glad you could finally make it.""I'm still on time! See!?" He said, panicking and showing her his watch.She giggled. Phillip realized she had been teasing him and glared. "Its alright. Come inside, and we will get started.""Yes Ms. Smith," he said."Oh please, don't give me that. Its Rebecca..."Phillip smiled, thinking that perhaps it won't be that bad."For now," she said, and his heart sank.Rebecca was almost ten years his senior. She had come from a well to do family, studied business in university, then used her knowledge to build up the fortune she possessed now. She had known Phillip's older sister in university, and the times he had met her she seemed to be his polar opposite- always on the run, always working, always seeming to be on the exact level of stress that let her stay calm while making her rush to get things done.Phillip gulped in fear. Gingerly he walked into the house, and instantly yelped as he felt something hit the side of his leg."First thing first, lets get you out of those silly clothes.""What? Rebecca, what is that.... OW!"He yelped again as hit him, this time square on the bottom, with a thick leather rod.'I said STRIP. You are to please and serve me as I want. You know the rules. So do it!" "What? Is this some kind of sexual thing? I don't know what... OW!""You're going to strip because I'm going to tell you what to wear. You agreed to do what I said when you signed the contract, so do what I say or I'll send you to jail or worse.""Ye.. yes Rebecca."He quickly grabbed the hem of his shirt and tore it off. He reached down to his belt buckle and looked at Rebecca pleadingly. She raised an eyebrow, and he undid his belt.Really, he had known this was coming. This part was essentially the same for everyone in his situation, and he knew it could be much worse. However, no amount of mental preparation prepared him for the embarrassment as he pulled his pants down and stripped bear in front of his new mistress for her inspection.Once he was naked, Rebecca stood in front of him, looking him up and down and thinking."Hmmm... I have to say you're in fairly good shape. I suppose that was one thing you were competent enough to think of.He squirmed under her gaze. "Yes Rebecca."She walked around him, examining him and teasing him with the rod. She hit him hard across the bottom and he yelped again."Now, it seems SOMEONE's been naughty, haven't they.""Yes, Rebecca."Another hit, another yelp. Phillip felt the lines glowing on his cheeks. "It seems someone wasted their time at university. Looking at naughty pictures when we should have been working, were we?"Phillip blushed and didn't answer. She chuckled and continued."And it seems then, instead of working or dealing with their problems, SOMEONE decided to try to cheat their way out, didn't they?"Another hit. "YES REBECCA!" he shouted."Then, that someone COULD have been lined up to go to jail, or even a subby school, weren't they? Wouldn't that have been fun? Ending up having to choose between months in a cell and a massive fine or having to wonder who your new trainer would be? Would that be fun?"Another hit. "NO REBECCA!""And it seems that SOMEONE was LUCKY that their big sister knew someone who was willing to pay their way out of it, make a deal with the university, get lawyers to drop the charges, and all they had to do was show up a few times a month to help that person out. Isn't that lucky?"Another hit. "YES REBECCA!""And THEN, that SOMEONE was LATE! ON HIS FIRST DAY!""I WASN"T LATE I WAS... OW!" That hit was harder then the others."And who was that someone?""Me, Rebecca.""Exactly right. Can you imagine my surprise when the lazy, unmotivated younger brother of my friend Sarah ended up being the one who did all this? Can you imagine when I found out the guy who spent all his time playing games while his sister was working was the one who did this and got caught? Can you?" She was spanking him continuously now, emphasizing each word with a smack."OW! OW! Yes Rebecca!" He shouted, whinning."Exactly right." She stopped spanking him and walked back to his front and rested the rod on his face, pushing into his cheek. "Now. As far as I can tell I am getting you out of a heck of a lot of trouble and not asking for much in return. So, you are going to do everything here. You're not just going to clean and cook, I'm going to put my feet up and relax as you take care of every little thing, understood?""Yes, Rebecca.""This," she moved the rod around his cheeks. "Is my riding crop. It will let you know when you displease me, and I expect you to willingly bend over for it, understood?""Yes, Rebecca.""And, since I paid you out of it when I could have paid much less for a maid service, I expect you to remember I'm doing you a favor. You are here for my pleasure and to serve me. If at any point you don't like it, you can go back, find a way to pay back the money and take your chances in court, along with the additional charges off breaking your contract with me. Understood?""Yes Rebecca.""Good. Then come along." She led him through the massive open foyer and up a wide, twisting flight of wooden stairs toward the second floor. The floors were thickly carpeted, and the walls were a golden color, as if to emphasize the wealth. She lead him down a hallway, and he glanced inside various doors they passed and at the large paintings she had hung in every open space. Was he going to have to clean this all?It occurred to him that he still had know idea what was happening. He was still blushing, one hand in front trying to hide his nudity as the other rubbed his sore bottom. Was he going to be spanked like that every day? Would he have to clean naked? The thought made him shudder, but was still better then the alternative.Finally he asked. "Rebecca, what am I going to be doing here? Am I... do you really want me naked all day? Do I have to be?"She chuckled. "You'll see in a second. Ah! Here we are!" She opened a sliding door to what he realized was a closet. "Don't worry, I won't expect you to be naked."He let out a sigh of relief, then suddenly caught it as he saw her reaching for a dress. Even worse, it was a french maids dress, complete with long silk stockings and a ridiculously short skirt."Wha... wha..." he tried to ask, but the words wouldn't form.She laughed again and pushed it into his hands. "YOU, my little sissy, are going to be my french maid. I had this made for your size and I can't WAIT to see you in it.""But.. but... can't I just be naked all day?"She spanked him again with the riding crop. "No. I told you, you are here to serve me. You wear what I want, do what I want, act the way I want..." She grabbed at her hair in frustration. Phillip stared at her, he never expected her to show such an open display of emotion. She had always come off as cool and collected to him. Finally, she breathed deeply, lowered her hands and continued.. "This isn't going to work unless you listen. I'm sure neither of wants you to go to jail Phillip. Just do as I say, and we'll get through, ok? Now put the dress on."He got dressed slowly, first pulling on the silken panities. He blushed as he saw them covering him, it was almost more embaressing then being naked. The smooth silkiness was something he never felt before, and something he was ashamed to admit he enjoyed. He pulled on the stockings next, then finally dropped the dress over his head.He blushed. Sissy play was far from rare in these situations, and something he knew might happen, but the fact others had suffered in his place didn't lessen the embaressment.'Good sissy," she said. "Now, for the next part."She reached down to the bottom shelf of the closet and took something out. It was wide and square, and shone with plastic.She handed it to him. It took him a moment to realize what it was- a pink diaper, decorated with rabbits and lambs."A d-diaper..." he stumbled. Sissy play was one thing, diapering was another. He had heared stories about it, dreading but never believing that he might end up as one of the poor, pathetic abdls, condemed to crawl around in full diapers for their master's and mistress's ammusment."Please don't do this to me. Please don't make me wear this. I'll do anything, I'lll..." he stopped as he saw her laughing."Oh silly sissy, I'm not going to make you wear it.""You're not?""No. You think I want to change your stinky diapers? I want the extra responsibility, as you get to play? I told you, I'm not going to do a single thing, and you are going to take care of me.""What?" he asked.In repose, she opened the door beside the closet and flicked a switch. Inside was a giant nursery, painted in bright pastel colors with animals and cartoons all over the walls, and piled high with stuffed animals and toys. There was babyish furniture and clothing everywhere- a high chair, a play pen, even a changing table, all sized for an adult. Not just any adult he realized, but Rebecca. She giggled and skipped toward the centerpiece of the room- a massive gilded crib, piled high with pink sheets and stuffed animals. She picked up a stuffed doll and cuddled it closely."Don't get it yet? Are you slow?" she laughed. "The diaper isn't for you, its for me, Daddy."
  10. Blackness surrounded her. She struggled, but was unable to move. Ropes dug into her limbs, pulling her and twisting her into cramped crouched position on her side.Worse, she had no idea where she was or why.Gabriela thought she was moving. It was more of a guess then anything, however, as the thick cushioning around her hid any vibration and she couldn't hear the sound of an engine. It was more of a hope, that she was travelling somewhere and would be allowed out when she got there.The only problem was she wasn't certain if she really wanted to be where she was going. She had undergone her training, really more of a series of punishments, and been sold. She knew that much. After that... nothing. She imagined she had been drugged with something. Even stages of her training were blurry and she wasn't sure if she was supposed to remember them. Owners were notoriously different in how they took care of their subs. Some were loving and kinds, others were harsh and cruel, with all levels in between. Gabriela imagined whoever now owned her wanted her disoriented and confused, and the plan was working.Finally something seemed to change. The air smelled a bit fresher, and felt cooler. She heard creaking. She still couldn't see anything, but felt hands reach down and grab her. She was pulled out of her confined and untied. They put her on her feet, and she stumbled until she was grabbed by both arms and held up. Finally, a blindfold she wasn't aware she was wearing was pulled off her face. She blinked quickly, unused to the sunlight, and tried to look around.She was facing a farm, she realized. There were acres of field of her covered with rows of corn. In the distance she saw a large, three story house built with white paneling and brick. Beyond that was a series of large steel barns surrounded by animals. She turned around behind herself to see a row of houses. Finally, there were several large men around her, who all seemed to be focusing on a single woman in a dark suit. The woman was holding a riding crop, she realized with a gulp. Gabriela was suddenly aware that she was entirely naked.The woman in front of her smirked. "A bit scared, are you? Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have lots of fun." The others all laughed at her. "As long as you can behave, that is. You, my little one, are going to be my star attraction."She walked up to Gabriella and began inspecting her, grabbing and pinching at her flesh. "You certainly seem to be in good shape," she said. She kept looking at her, then sniffed the air. "You smell though." She fingered the sweat that had been building up on her when she was locked up. "You smell like a pig. Don't you, little piggy?"She stared at the woman blankely.'Well?" She snapped the riding crop at her thighs. "Answer!""Yes! Yes I do!" She whined, terrified."Good piggy. What do you smell like?""A piggy.""Good. Say it. Say your a pig and oink for me."'I'm a pig I'm a pig! Oink oink!" Gabriela was confused and frightened. This was not something she had expected or had been trained to do, and she responded as quickly as she could to avoid the crop. The other's laughed, and she wondered if perhaps it was a joke of some kind. She stared around, eyes pouting and pleading for some explanation. Instead they laughed more as her face turned red at what she had been forced to do.'Good girl. Yes we are going to have a lot of fun. But first, we need to get you ready. I'm afraid you're training hasn't quite prepared you for what we do here. I always thought it lacked in some areas. But we can fix that, can't we?""Yes, ma'am," she gave the reply her training had made instinctual. She smiled. "At least you're obedient. Maybe its a good thing they didn't train you for this, it makes it more fun for me." The woman reached into his pocket and pulled out a collar. It was thick and black, but decorated with pink hearts. A set of steel tags dangled from the front. She reached around behind her neck and attached it. She then turned something, and she heard a snap. She drew back his hand to show a key, which he put into his pocket. "We won't be needing this," she said. As she said that, Gabriela felt one of the men behind her sewing an extra piece over her collar. It really wasn't coming off, she realized as a pit formed in her stomach.'This collar marks you as my own. I am your mistress, you are my property. The collar won't come off and it is reinforced with wiring, so don't even try to cut it. There is a tracker inside it, so we always know if you try to run away." She fingered the tags in front of her. "These give all the information anyone needs if they find you, including how to bring you back to me, what you are going to be called, how you are to be kept when found, and how you are to be punished. You don't need to know what it says, any more then a pet dog or cat would ever know what her tags say. Believe me, you don't want any of that enacted, and if it does, we have more permanent ways to mark you. You don't want to be branded, do you?""N- no ma'am!" she said, shaking.Sje smiled. "Good. Now, if you behave well, this won't be too hard for you. However, cross me..." she held the riding crop up "and it will get much worse. Understood?""Yes ma'am!""Good. Now, come with me." Her mistress attached the end of a leash to her collar, then turned around and began to walk away. Gabriella tried to follow her, but one of the men around her forced her down to her knees. She didn't move for a moment, then the leash tightened and forced her forward. The woman turned back and smirked as she began to crawl after her, naked except for her leash and collar, and slipping in the mud. Even with the training she had gone through, the idea of strangers seeing her crawl around, naked, sweaty and dirty was horrible. For a moment she almost wished she was back at training, where at least she was indoors, with people she knew and doing things that had become familiar. She remembered those days- the constant embarrassment and pain, how she wished to finally be done and moved on to her owner- ironic that she now was craving it.Her new owner led her down a long drive way toward the house she had seen. She must have been rich, she realized, as it was far larger then any farm house she had seen. As they got closer, however, he turned and led her down a different path. Gabriela glanced toward the house, confused, but didn't dare raise the question. He training had taught her not to speak unless spoken too, and hundreds of hard lashes came back to her at even considering doing otherwise. It was only as the turned around the corner of the house that she realized with increasing dread they were heading toward the barns. The smell of animals hit her at once, and she almost choked. She prayed that she wouldn't be expected to live there, among the animals and filth... but worse things had happened to subs. She sighed and went through a mental list of all the horror stories she had been told, all the things that could happen, all the placed she could go if she didn't behave and should be happy she wasn't going to. It was a method she had been taught to behave for her masters. People who lived solely to be punished, spanked and whipped hundreds of times a day and force fed garbage food before being left to sleep in bondage. Boys who were treated as girls for all purposes, with details that left all the males listening in near tears. People being locked in the same diaper for days, living and sleeping in their filth until the smell and the rash became unbearable. She had experienced portions of a lot of them, and didn't want any more. She couldn't place what was happening on any of the descriptions she had been given, but perhaps that was by design, as many owners wanted what was happening to be a surprise, and the trainers always knew what was best. The exercise helped her. She was here to be his submissive, a role she had been chosen for based on her own behavior and trained to do. It was her job to do as ordered without questioning, no matter how humiliation and painful, and she would do it as her duty. She looked at her new owner, feeling a mix of fear and affection that had been trained into her. She was there to please her. The owner knew best, the owner was in charge, and the sub must obey, she kept telling herself. Nothing else mattered.Finally they reached the barn. She opened a side door and lead her in. Pigs honked all around her, and the smell was far worse then the outside. She cringed as he led her through piles of mud, straw and waste along the floor, and tried not to inhale through her nose. Finally she pulled her into an empty stall, then turned to face her."Enjoying it so far?" her owner asked.'Ye-no---YES ma'am!" she said, trying to decide what he wanted to hear rather then state her opinion. The woman laughed. "You don't have to lie to me. Tell me the truth. What do you think?" "I'm scared ma'am," she said truthfully. "What if I told you this was your new home? Would that make you happy?" "No ma'am," she said, almost in tears. She knew she wasn't supposed to complain. However, she had asked, and hadn't told her what to think. "Awww poor little baby piglet," her mistress reached down and rubbed her head, then cupped her chin and raised her face. "Don't worry. This doesn't have to last. If you show you can behave here, you'll be allowed to live in my house, ok? You can be kept clean, and wander around behind me, cuddling against me and eating beside me. You'll only need to come back here for shows or for punishment. Doesn't that sound fun?" She nodded, truthfully. What he was describing was almost ideal for a sub- to be kept in comfort and coddled, a plaything to be spoiled and cared for by the owner. "Now. As for your outfit. I think it needs to be changed, don't you?" She looked down at her naked body. Before she could respond, the men on either side of her lifted her up. They carried her to the side of the pen, where there was a large shelf, and dropped her on all fours. Her owner reached underneath the shelf where there was a set of small doors. She opened them, and began to take things out. Her mistress held the first object in front of her. It was a large steel plug with a curled tail at the end. A replica pigs tail she realized. "You, my little one, are going to be my baby pig. Understood?" "Yes ma'am," she said in a broken voice, dreading the feeling of the plug. "Now now, from now on my name is Mommy, alright? Mistress also works. And you're new name is going to be Piggy, though I'm going to have fun calling you different names you need to get used to. Alright?" "Yes Mi- Mommy." She said, and her mistress laughed. Mistress reached behind her and slowly slide the plug inside. She cringed as it went in, then sighed in relief when it finally stopped. The intrusion was noticeable, but not painful. She looked back to see a tail seemingly sticking out the back of her, and blushed. Did she have to be a pig? She had been trained to act like a puppy, and a cat, but a pig? The thought made her shiver, and she tried to remind her self of what she owed to her mistress, and how much worse it could be. Somehow, it didn't help much. "Oh, and one fun part about this?" her Mommy took out a controller, which she looked at curiously. She pressed a button, and Gabriela gasped as it began vibrating. "Enjoy that?" She nodded. "Annndd if you're naughty," she pushed another button. A wave of shocks jolted Gabriella, making her squeal until he hit the button again. She lay down panting for breath. "Less fun, eh?" She nodded again and whined. "At least it makes you squeal like a piggy." Her mistress ruffled her hair. Her Mommy then picked her up and turned her over onto her back. Gabriela realized that the other men who had come with her had departed, perhaps convinced her new owner had her under control. "Now, want to guess what is next?" she asked. Gabriela shook her head. The woman reached underneath to pull out a white object. "I did tell you you were a BABY pig, didn't I?" she asked. Gabriela's eyes went wide. It was a diaper, she realized. She had been trained for this, but hadn't expected it after everything else. She turned it over to show the printing on the front, displaying cartoon barn animals each smiling and wearing a diaper. She pointed to a pig. "See? Just like you. Now lift your hips." She groaned and obeyed. This had always been one of the worse parts of her training. Diaper training had always been humiliating, and combined with the rest, it was too much.The woman slid the diaper underneath her and powdered it well, then lifted her ankles up and readjusted before bringing them down. She felt the thickness of the cushion underneath her, then between her legs as the lifted it up and taped it on snugly. It was wider then most of the diapers she had been trained with, she realized. Perhaps to encourage her to crawl like a pig, she thought, shuddering again. She went back to her training and reminded herself of what else she could be doing. "Good baby pig," her Mistress said. She turned her over into crawling position again, then reached into her diaper and pulled something. To Gabriella's surprise, the tail came out through a tiny hole in the diaper, which she realized must have been specially designed for this exact humiliating ordeal. She groaned again. She felt a sharp pain on her thigh and yelped. She looked back to see her Mistress holding the riding crop up. She stared at her in fear. "I don't want to hear that complaint again, Piggy. You are hear under my ownership. You do not get to argue. Whenever I give you something, no matter how humiliating or painful, you will love and cherish it, not groan. Is that understood?" "Yes Mommy sorry Mommy!" She said. She couldn't believe what she had been doing. She had upset her owner on her first DAY. It had been far different then she had expected, but it still didn't bode well for her. "Good. Next time, however, will be far worse. Now, lets finish getting you dressed. Her owner reached underneath the shelves and took out a long piece of pink cloth. Her mistress pulled it over her, and she realized it was a onesie that seemed to combine a baby's pajamas with a pig costume. It fit tightly around her, and seemed to be made out of latex. She tried to fight back the whining at the appearance. Next the took out a bonnet with pig's ears sticking out the top and strapped it under her chin. She held up a pacifier made in the shape of a pig's snout, put it in her mouth and tied it behind her head. This was followed with mittens in the shape of hoofs, and a pair of similar objects he attached to her knees. She wondered at this a moment until he attached a strap to her ankles and tried it to the back of her onsie, leaving her feet in the air and her body balancing on her knees and hands. Finally, her owner picked her up again and set her down on the ground in the mud. She looked around at her surroundings, and her new home. There was a pile of straw in the corner which she assumed would be her bed, and a trough she prayed she wouldn't need to eat from. There was mud and dirt everywhere, and it was impossible to keep clean. Worse of all, there was a mirror leaning in a corner, seeming to exist only for the purpose of showing her how ridiculous she looked. She could have cried at the appearance. Her mistress snapped the riding crop at her. "Crawl!" she said, and Gabriela jumped to obey. It was snapped again, and she yelped. "Crawl!" the woman said again, pointing in a direction. Every time she reached one side of the tiny pen, her Mommy smacked her again, and sent her crawling in a new direction. She rushed each time, panicking and feeling the need to obey. She became filthier and filthier as it happened, and her eyes became wet with tears. Finally her Mommy snapped it again. "Now, roll around in the mud like a pig." She obeyed, now fully crying. "Awww is my poor baby pig sad?" her Mommy asked. She nooded, holding back tears. She whacked her hard with the crop and she yelped. "Well, get used to this for now, you will spend a lot of time here until you prove you deserve something else, and still more time after that for shows." She looked at her owner. Shows? He had mentioned it before. What did he mean? She hoped it wasn't what it seemed. Her mistress seemed to read her mind. "Oh, don't worry, that will become clear soon. See, this isn't just a farm, but a museum of farms. And you, my little piglet, will me my star attraction." She began to panic. She hadn't even thought of that. She was going to go on display? For money? She tried to raise the questions, but the pacifier muffled them. Her mistress snapped the riding crop again. "Now now, no arguing. IF there is one thing they taught you, it was that. But, as for the things he didn't." She croached down beside her. "Even after you've earned the right to live in my mansion, IF you earn the right, you will come back her every weekend, and whenever people are willing to play. You will put on a show for them, crawling around, being punished as they demand whether you deserve it or not, using your diapers like a good baby." She pointed to one corner with his crop. "See that corner? WHenever you use your diapers and earn a change, they will be dumped right there, so you can live next to your own waste like a real pig." Gabriela yelped at that. Next she pointed to the door, and a truck out front. "That truck has raising sides so I can tour around, putting you on display, charging people to see you and to 'play' with you. And I bet you can't wait to find out what 'play' means." She shuddered. "You will earn your keep. And for now...." she pointed to the trough. "That is what you will eat from. You will have a good meal, loaded with plenty of stuff that will ensure you use your diapers not long from now, as I lead you around town to advertise my new exhibit. In fact, lets get started, shall we?" She pulled a lever, and a disgusting mixture of slime and chunks pored out. Gabriela prayed it wasn't just what was fed to pigs, but from the appearance and smell it very well could have been. Her mistress leaned over and sprinkled a jar into it. A laxative, she realized. Her stomach turned at the though. Where had THIS been in the training? "This will help ensure you don't have control over certain functions, I'm sure you can guess which. The only control will be this, and the plug it is attached to." She held up the remote, then reached down and untied her. "Now, get eating." She unhooked the pacifier. Gabriela looked at her pleadingly, and she raised the crop. She crawled forward and stared at the mess in front of her. The smell made her want to gag. She had hoped perhaps it appeared worse then it was for show, but if anything, the opposite seemed to be true. Was this supposed to happen? Masters had a duty to feed their subs. It was never clarified what, but this... SHe looked at it again and almost thew up. "Well? I'm waiting? Don't let them get the laxative or you will regret it." She indicated the other end of the trough with her crop, where Gabriella realized to her horror pigs had began to eat from a different section. IN reality they weren't close, but the thought was enough to make her cringe again. She stared at the food with tears in her eyes. This wasn't what she had been trained for. The diapers were one thing- she had experienced that, and if anything it was the worse she had experienced. Even being treated like some animals was alright, dogs, cats... But pigs? She groaned at the though. Nothing she had done was that humiliating. Then living out in the barn, surrounded by animals, laying in filth, diapered anyway as if to add insult to injury, and paraded around for all to see and PAY for favors? What did that even mean? She began to shake her head. Tears poured from her eyes. Everything in her training told her that it was wrong, that she must obey, but... this was too much. This wasn't what she had wanted at all. "No," she said, shaking after speaking words she never expected to say. "No Mommy I won't. I can't." "Excuse me?" she spoke in a cold, calm voice, and grabbed the crop with both hands. She stared at her, to terrified to speak. As soon as she had said it she knew it was a mistake. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. It began with shocks coming from the plug. She collapsed moaning to the ground. The shocks continued, and she struggled to get back up but found her muscles were too weak. She felt arms around her. She was picked up, then lain stomach down over something hard. It was her owner's knee, she realized, and she was in position for a spanking. The first blow was enough to make her yelp. A loud THWACK filled the air around her, and a sharp sting made her jump. She dared not struggle, however, as she knew she could only make it worse. The spanks continued on her padded rear, each getting more painful then the last as the soreness from the combined spanking and shocks grew. She lost track of time and had no idea how many she had received when she finally felt a pause. She looked up at her mitress hopefully, but turned back down and sobbed loudly as she felt her undo the back of her onesie and pull down her diaper. She began spanking her again, this time on her bare bottom. The sharp CRACK of her bare skin replaced the dull thud of her diaper, and the pain became sharper. She now screamed and cried out loud with each painful smack. Once again there was a pause, but she didn't even have time to look up when she felt the side of the riding crop pressed against her bottom. Still resigned to her fate, she offered no resistance as the most painful part of her spanking commenced. The feeling was awful. The pain was awful. The humiliation was worse. However, the back of her mind kept telling her she deserved it. She knew better then to disobey her owner. She had learned that over and over again, had it repeated in her mind accompanied by the harshest reminders possible. She knew this was going to happen, and that it was for her own good. She had told herself these things over and over again, and found the idea came easier each time. Finally the spanking stopped, and she turned off her buzzer. She lay crying over her lap. "Will you behave from now on?" her mistress asked, emphasizing her words with another spank. "Yes!" she sobbed. "WIll you ever argue with me again?" "No Mommy." "Willy you be a good little Piggy?" "Yes Mommy! I'll be a good piggy," the tears were still coming down, even more as she realized her own words were true. "Are you sorry? What do you say after a spanking?" "I"m so sorry Mommy! It won't happen again! Please please don't hate me! I promise I'll be good! I'm so sorry!" "Good little Piglet," she said. She pulled her diaper back up, then re did her onesie. She turned the diapered girl over and cradled her in her lap, rocking her as her sobs slowed and her tears dried up. "Good. Now, we can let that one mishap go since its your first day. However, I don't want any more nonsense, you hear? The food we give you may seem bad, but it is made for someone just like you and has all the nutrients you need." "Yes Mommy. I'm so soso sorry Mommy. Ummm, Mommy?" She knew that what she said must be true. She was always taught her master or mistress would take care of her. She must have food that was good for her. "Yes, Piggy?" "Thank you for spanking me. Thank you for showing me how to be a good gi... piggy for you. I know I needed it." She smiled, then kissed her head. "Good Piggy. You are welcome. Now, lets get you fed, shall we?" She nodded, and she placed her down. He pulled her toward the trough with her collar. She stared at it, still trying to fight back the smell, but her mistress pushed her head down. Obediently, she began to eat. Her hands were still on the ground, but she shoved her face in and chomped as best she could, realizing she was getting her face covered in the disgusting gruel. The taste was as bad as the smell had promised. It seemed to be a rough blend of whatever was left over in the kitchen, at times soft and mushy, at times crunchy, at times bland and at times overpowering. Also on her mind were the laxatives that she had seen her mix it in, an especially tough concept given the plug in her bottom and the diaper wrapped around it. "Then that is what I need," she told herself, and kept eating. The food made her want to gag, but she worked through it. She ate until she was full, but her Mommy kept holding her head, and she kept eating. Soon he was petting her and speaking to her soothingly. "Goood Piggy," she whispered "theres a good little piggy." She kept eating, and her mistress pulled the lever to pour more food into the trough. She forced herself to swallow again and again, until finally everything was gone. Her stomach was already cramping, and she felt so bloated it was almost difficult to move. She wanted more then anything to lie down and rest as her stomach handled what she had been fed. Her Mommy, however, had a different idea. "Come on, little Piggy. You need to work off all that food, don't you?" She reattached the piglet pacifier behind her head. She whined but nodded, and her mistress attached a leash to her collar. She braced herself for what he knew must be coming. It was one thing to perform for her owner in private, another to do it in public. He reached under the counter again, this time pulling out a sign on a rope. Gabriella managed to read as she brought it over. "New exhibit- Baby Pig, "Piggy", 1030 am Sunday". She hooked the rope over the collard girl's head head. She pulled on her leash, and her piglet followed obediently. She crawled as fast as he could, but struggled to keep up. Her bloated stomach made it all the worse, as well as the cramping as the massive amount of food and laxatives moved quickly through her system. He took her out the barn and back down the path she had entered. She watched with growing anticipation and despair as the rows of houses got closer and closer. Already it seemed there were people waiting to see. They left the farm amid a chorus of laughter and applause. She blushed, and kept her head down. "No no, Piggy. You're on display. Show them your pretty face! Wave!" She struggled to obey, raising her hand as quickly as she could before the forced movement of her crawling made her stumble. Her stomach ached and let out a loud groan, and she reached back to hold it before being pulled forward again. Her mistress paraded her around the town, attracting a crowed of jeering followers and photo takers. She certainly was getting her advertisement, she realized. It seemed as if everyone for miles saw her. Her cramps were getting worse and worse. The thought of messing her diapers in public was terrible, but one she had been trained for. However, the plug kept it in, and she almost wished for the humiliation of filling her pants over the ache of the laxatives. The walk continued. "How long would it be?" she wondered. Crawling was exhausting, and her arms and legs were getting sore. It was then that she looked up at her mistress. Sh was smiling slyly down at her. It took her a moment to realized why. In her free hand he had the remote, hidden from any angle but her own. She winked at her sub, then hit a button. Gabriella gasped as the plug suddenly shrank inside her. It moved out quickly, leaving her quivering. Worse, it was instantly and uncontrollably followed by a massive pile of sludge pouring out of her. She stumbled and fell, but was pulled forward and struggled to keep up as she gasped and panted through messing her pampers. The response from the audience was massive. Even if they couldn't see her pampers and onesie inflating behind her, the sound was loud enough for anyone to hear, and her reaction made it all the more obvious. If that didn't do it, the smell came soon after, and lingered anywhere she crawled. The audience, for their part, laughed and jeered, snapping pictures and sending them off, a sure sign that her future shows would be far from private. She pouted. It really was worse then she had imagined. However, she knew, there was no point in complaining. It was what she was there for, and she'd do her part. ... Each spank on her bare bottom brought laughter and cheers from the crowed. As before, she was bent over her Mommy's lap, onesie open and diaper pulled down as he smacked. Unlike the first time, however, this spanking was not brought on by her behavior, but simply for the amusement of the crowd. It was a position she had often found herself in, and a crowd favorite. She was thankful that this time, at least, her Mommy wasn't letting them come and spank her themselves. Each blow brought more pain and cries from her, but she didn't even think about struggling. This was what she was here for, she knew, and what she needed. She had realized since arriving that she was part of a kind of carnival of the bizarre, where she was the main attraction. Along with everything he could get from the actual animals, Mommy had made a small fortune on paying costumers coming to see something strange. While some zoos had animals behaving like peopleo- bicycling, doing tricks, drawing pictures- her mistress had much more success with the opposite, people behaving like animals. Add to that the kink factor in her case, and there was a winning combination. People came for miles to see the baby pig woman, with varying emphasis on the 'baby' and the 'pig,' not to mention the 'woman.' She was as likely to find herself in simple baby clothes and diapers, or in a pig costume complete with a mask, or even just her collar. People could pay for any number of things they wanted her to do, even renting her to take on and show off to friends at parties. The worst was when they'd travel, and she'd be locked inside a cage, visible from all angles in whatever humiliating and exposing situation her mistress had cooked up for her. The final blows on her aching bottom brought her out of her thoughts. Another part of her was aching, reminding her of yet another one of the most popular attractions. Her stomach growled and cramped, making her moan. She hoped this one would come soon. Thankfully, her Mommy pulled up her diaper and took out the remote. She sighed in relief. There was a time she'd have been horrified at the prospect of what was about to happen, and a time even before that she'd have fought against it. Now, however, no matter how humiliating and degrading it was, she accepted that it was for the best. Her Mommy's happiness, and the happiness of the viewers, proved it for her. It didn't matter if it embarrassed her, she knew. He clicked a button, and she felt the plug inside her shrink and pop out. Instantly a long stream began to pour from her bottom, accompanied by a loud 'blaarrt.' The crowed ewwed, laughed and cheered as the back of her diaper expanded. She kept pushing, loudly expelling more and more slime into the waiting padding. She had been kept plugged for days now, and the food she was given was specifically designed to provide for loudly and visibly filled diapers for the audience. With the amount she had been aching, this was more a relief then anything else. She had lost all control of her ability to stop, and there was no longer a time when her owner would remove the plug and not find her diaper almost instantly filled. She kept pushing, emitting more noises and laughter from the audience. The smell reached her, piling even above the smell of the animals and filth around her. She felt a hard smack on the back of her diaper, making her yelp. There was another, then another, and she realized her Mommy was giving her another spanking, this time in her full diaper. She winced and held tightly onto her legs. This was more for the humiliation and uncomfort of having her messy diaper spanked, but after the previous punishment, it was still painful. She yelped with each time, and tried to hold back her squirming. With the mess pressed into her, it was all the more noticeable, and it itched horribly. Finally her mistress stopped. "Arlight stinky butt!" she said with one more smack. "Time to eat!" She put the piglet girl on the ground on all fours. This time she needed no encouragement as she crawled forward, her messy padded rear wiggling and swaying for all to see as she approached the trough and shoved her face inside, making as much a mess as she could as she ate. This was the normal expected order. She often was only allowed to mess shortly before feeding. This ensured more used diapers sooner, and provided a necessary break before the change, both of which meant more people watching for longer. At times, she could go hours without a change if Mommy decided it was for the best. She wondered idly if she'd be allowed to sleep in the house tonight. That was happening more and more, and her treatment inside was getting better and better. Her food was improving, and she often had more comfortable beds to sleep in. As with the audiences, her experienced could vary depending on what her mistress wanted, varying from full baby treatment, to full pig, to only a woman, and all in between. However, at all times one thing was certain: she was her's, all her's, and only her's. She heard snippets of her mistress' speech now, giving a time for her diaper change at some point in the future. She didn't bother to listen. She didn't need to know, and didn't have anything to keep track of time anyway. In fact, it was better that she didn't. All she had to do was obey when the time came. It was a lesson she had learned again and again, and now fully understood.
  11. September, 1939 Fiction by Angela Bauer As told to her by her loving husband, Don Davis On the Sunday of Labor Day Weekend 1939 my Granny took me to brunch with Joel and his beautiful mother Virginia Lee Woodhouse. It turned out that they had just moved near us and that Joel would be a classmate in Third Grade. What I only found out decades later was that Virginia Lee became one of my mother’s best friends at Vassar College. Our brunch went so well that it was arranged that I would spend the next weekend with the Woodhouse’s at the townhouse Virginia had just purchased a couple of blocks north of us. Joel and I shared many interests. Virginia seemed to be as nice as she was attractive. I spent the next several days in eager anticipation. On Friday morning Granny helped me pack my suitcase with clothing. To my disappointment this included several pair of my PlayTex stretchy latex baby pants, as well as a few classic Curity flat gauze 4-ply diapers. “Granny, do I have to? I only wet occasionally,” I protested mildly, because she gave me a meaningful glare as she pointed to the heavy hairbrush on my bedside table. “Donny, you cannot take the chance of wetting the bed. That could be most embarrassing. I am sure Mrs. Woodhouse will be discreet. Besides I already told her about your wetting. She did not insist that you be diapered, but your mother and I agree that is for the very best.” It was with a heavy heart that I trudged off with Granny, lugging my suitcase. Much to my surprise the door was answered by a woman named Clarissa. Joel was standing in the shadows behind her. Once the door was closed my eyes adjusted to the dim light. Joel was wearing just a diaper inside PlayTex pants. His diaper was far wetter than any I had worn. No wonder Virginia was so open to me wearing diapers. Clarissa offered Granny a cup of coffee, then said, “Please excuse me, Ma’am, I need to change Joel’s diaper for the day.” “Thanks for the coffee. Would you mind also diapering Donny? He has some, as well as rubber pants, in his suitcase,” Granny said, as if this was perfectly normal for Third Grade boys to wet. “Will Donny need diapers all weekends, Ma’am?” “Please use your own judgment. I want Joel to be comfortable. Donny does not wet every night, but he does wet often enough that he is diapered nightly at home,” Granny casually replied. “No problem, Ma’am. Mrs. Woodhouse told me about Donny’s bed diapers. We have more than enough. By the way, the spare bed also is always made up with a rubber sheet.” Granny was still sipping her coffee while Clarissa took us by the hand. Thus I lugged my suitcase up to Joel’s bedroom. Much to my surprise in addition to a pair of beds, there was a very large changing table and the biggest playpen I had ever seen in the room. Joel blushed in embarrassment: “When Mommy is mad at me she calls this my ‘Nursery’.” Disposable diapers and wipes were still in the future back then. On a shelf just under the changing surface was a bowl. Clarissa told me to undress completely before she left us alone. When she returned she was carrying a pitcher of warm water. That she poured into the bowl. Joel’s PlayTex pants were lowered while he stood at the bowl end of the table. There was a step stool. Clarissa helped Joel use it to climb onto the table. Obediently he reclined face up. She removed both pins, which she stuck into the breast pocket of her uniform. She folded the front of his wet diapered down, between Joel’s legs. Then she took a clean diaper from a stacker hanging from the wall behind the table. She immersed that in the bowl then wrung it out. Joel’s pubic area was wiped clean. She used another diaper to dry him. She pulled the soaked diaper from under him and deposited it in the diaper pail. As she returned the cleaning diaper to the bowl Joel obediently turned over. Clarissa had him lift up so she could wipe and dry his backside. I could not help noticing several obvious hairbrush marks on Joel’s lower buttocks and upper thighs. A glance revealed a heavy hairbrush upon his bedside cabinet. No wonder Joel was so cooperative about being diapered. The Curity diaper used to dry Joel was folded with a dry one from the stacker. He lifted up so his diaper could be slid under him. Expertly Clarissa snugged and pinned the diaper. He lifted his legs so his PlayTex pants could be slid on. He lifted again so she could slide them over his diaper into position. Then she made sure none of the diaper tried to escape the pants. Joel was helped to climb down. Next it was my turn to be helped onto the table. My underpants had been dry so technically I did not need to be cleaned. However, Clarissa was thorough. I reclined. I pretended I was on a soaked diaper as my pubic area was wiped clean and then dried. I turned over and my backside was cleaned. Bummer if Joel was disappointed. My most recent spanking had been Tuesday evening so my marks had all faded. After I reclined again Clarissa folded my drying diaper with another. I lifted and those were slid under me. Soon my diaper was snug and pinned. Since my suitcase was still closed Clarissa took a pair of PlayTex baby pants from Joel’s drawer. I lifted my legs and then my bottom so she could pull the pants into place and double check for escaping diaper. I was helped down. “Donny, usually Joel just wears a diaper at home, even when playing in the garden. Would you like a shirt?” Clarissa nicely asked. “No, Ma’am. I might as well just wear a diaper,” I answered. I had eaten breakfast at home. After we had been playing briefly in the rear garden she brought us juice. What shocked me was that the juice was inside baby bottles. I had absolutely no memory of using a baby bottle. Joel sat down and put the nipple into his mouth. He held the bottle as if he had done so all his life as he suckled it. Clarissa sensed my inexperience and confusion. She sat in the nursery’s rocker. She asked me to bring my baby bottle. I reclined on her lap. She fed me that bottle. It was a divine feeling. “Donny, Mrs. Woodhouse believes that children who wear diapers still are comforted with bottles. Just tell me if you want to hold your own bottle.” “No, Ma’am, I don’t remember using a baby bottle. Please feed me,” I answered. Once we had finished our bottles, and been burped, we were allowed to resume playing. “Boys, if you need a diaper change before lunch just find me. Donny, normally Joel can make it. There is no shame needing to ask for a clean diaper sooner. Just be sure to tell me when you have wet so you can be changed before you leak.” The second that Clarissa was out of sight, Joel told me, “Donny. I don’t get spanked for wetting, but I get spanked very hard if I leak because I forgot to ask for a change.” Seconds later I did wet my diaper. I had not felt the need to use a toilet since we started walking to Joel’s house. Thus that wetting in my diapers was very large. I waddled more than I ran to tell Clarissa. She told me she was going to do “a diaper check”. She prodded the front of my diaper through my Playtex pants: “It is possible your diaper is not soaked, but let’s not take a chance.” As I was being led back to Joel’s Nursery, I asked, “Ma’am, may I use the toilet? I think I need to grunt.” “Donny, that is a good idea. If nothing happens right away, I’ll diaper you. When you do need to use the toilet again just tell me. When Joel messes his diaper he gets changed and also gets spanked,” Clarissa explained. Actually I did grunt successfully that time. I wiped myself, but while cleaning me Clarissa used some soap on the wiping diaper. Although after lunch my diaper was still dry, while Joel used the toilet I got another change. I must say Clarissa was very good at changing diapers. Virginia got home from work surprisingly early. It was a rare day when my mother got home before 6:30 PM or my father before 7:30 PM. Several nights a week mom and dad met for dinner at restaurants. I would be served dinner by my nanny. Another surprise was that Virginia had gone shopping. She unpacked the bag on the kitchen table after inviting Joel and me to watch. Inside were many tubes of PlayTex baby pants. It turned out we both wore the same size. There were several more EvenFlo baby bottles with latex nipples; also a few pacifiers. Clarissa was tasked washing and sterilizing a pair of the pacifiers which were distinctive from the kind Joel used. “Donny, as soon as a new pacifier is cool you may use it,” Virginia said. “Thank you, Ma’am, very much. I don’t want a pacifier,” I responded as politely as I could. “Young Man, using a pacifier is not optional. Not only will you use a pacifier when told to do so, you will enjoy using a pacifier. Youngsters who wet diapers still need baby bottles and pacifiers,” she told me. “Who would have guessed that I would have to spank you before I spanked Joel. Go to the nursery and wait for your spanking like a naughty little boy!” When we left the apartment that morning I only expected to wear diapers to bed. I went along with the day diapers to keep Joel company. I found the baby bottles fun. I had second thoughts about refusing pacifiers. “Mrs. Woodhouse, Ma’am, I apologize. I see your point. I’m a silly boy who needs diapers. I should use a pacifier. Can I have a second chance? Please?” “Sure, Donny, you can have second and third chances to obey. However, you still will be spanked for initially arguing and disobeying. Is that crystal clear?” I hung my head, wet my diaper and stammered, “Yes, Ma’am.” As I shuffled and waddled to the nursery, behind me I heard Virginia say, “Joel, come with me to observe Donny’s spanking. I hope that teaches you to obey Clarissa and me!” My reaction was to pee my diaper again. I was marched to an empty corner of the nursery, facing inward. Joel was left in the opposite corner, facing outward. Mrs. Woodhouse [since she was about to spank me I decided to no longer think of her as ‘Virginia’] moved a straight back armless chair to the changing table such that her left hand could easily reach the bowl. She left the nursery carrying the partially filled bowl and the pitcher. She soon returned with the now-empty bowl and the pitcher. She filled the bowl and put it on its shelf. From a drawer of the table she withdrew what I recognized as a waterproof crib underpad which she placed on the table top. Finally she moved the heavy wooden oval hairbrush from the bedside table to the shelf beside the bowl. I was called to her. As I stood there my PlayTex panty was removed. Then she un-pinned my diapers and removed them. The outside diaper was barely wet. That she placed in the bowl. Temporarily she put the wetter diaper and the pants on the table top. She took her seat on the chair and spread the underpad to protect her lap. Mrs. Woodhouse pulled me over her lap and underpad with my head to her left. She barely rung-out the diaper in the bowl. With that she soaked my backside and upper thighs. She began to scold me harshly seconds before the first hairbrush spank landed. On my wet bottom it hurt worse than any previous spank I had received. Maybe she only spanked me 25 or 30 times. I dissolved in tears after only a few spanks and continued to blubber like a baby. All I felt was the sting and throbbing as I was held in place until I cried it all out. I was marched back to the corner. While I sniffled there she cleared the changing table. Eventually I was helped onto the table top where a triple diaper was waiting. I whimpered as she pinned that on me and pulled up my PlayTex pants. I was returned to the corner for several more minutes. Clarissa brought a freshly sterilized pacifier. Mrs. Woodhouse put in into my mouth. As soon as I began to work my pacifier I was led to dinner, still sniffling slightly. I trembled. There was no conversation at the dinner table. I was led back to the nursery and put to bed. I watched as Joel was cleaned and triple diapered for bed. He was tucked in and then kissed good night. As always following a spanking it took me quite some time to drift off to sleep. I must have eventually done so because my next memory was being led to the changing table before dawn. Clarissa helped me up. She removed my rubber pants and diaper. She very gently wiped me clean and then dried me. While I was on my tummy she anointed and soothed my rump with baby lotion, saying, “This is our secret from Mrs. Woodhouse!” She finished diapering me and tucked me back to bed with a gentle kiss. In the morning my bottom still throbbed and my diaper was very wet. It was Saturday. Mrs. Woodhouse got us up. She told me it was “Just too bad your backside is sore, Donny. Next time I hope you behave well without the need for a spanking!” Our diapers were removed in the nursery. Naked we were led down the hall to the bathroom. The tub held luke-warm water. We were put into the tub. Mrs. Woodhouse washed us as if we were actual infants. We were roughly towel-dried before being returned to the nursery for day diapers. There were baby bottles of milk and juice in the dining room. Breakfast consisted of Pablum and Gerber’s banana baby food. Again my bottles were held for me. There was a highchair in the kitchen but that time neither of us was forced to use it. We played the rest of the morning. I did find Mrs. Woodhouse when I needed to grunt in the toilet. I did so and used toilet paper. In the nursery she put soap on the washing diaper. But she did not use either powder or lotion before I was diapered. Clarissa returned from her morning off in time to fix us lunch. We had bottles of juice and milk plus peanut with jelly sandwiches. Dessert consisted of one small cookie each. We were diapered and put down for naps, with our pacifiers. Clarissa said, “Donny, you suckle it like a pro. What a shame you refused yesterday and needed the spanking.” It was nearly time for dinner before Mrs. Woodhouse returned, dressed as if she had been on a date. She did not eat with us. Before bed Clarissa undressed us and removed our diapers. The bowl was filled with hot water, with a diaper soaking. Two underpads and the hairbrush were waiting on the table top. Mrs. Woodhouse entered and moved the spanking chair into position. I was sent to the same corner as on Friday. Joel was spanked first. He made more noise than I had. I was told that Saturday pre-bed spankings were administered to punish all misbehavior not discovered during the week. Although my bottom was wet, the spanking was no way as hard as the one on Friday. Clarissa returned and Mrs. Woodhouse left. We were each sent to use the toilet before being diapered for bed. I managed to grunt-out. Again, during the night, Clarissa changed our diapers. I was changed first, so I was awake to watch Joel being diapered. Sunday morning we had to get up early for church. Although there was a chapel only a half block west of Joel’s home for reasons never explained my family attended a church many blocks east of us. Mrs. Woodhouse had joined that congregation when she moved to Greenwich Village a couple of months previously. One of the few times, before meeting Joel, that I routinely wore a diaper was to church. I had a pair of formal trousers altered to conceal my diapers. Granny had packed those for my weekend. Joel also had dress-up trousers to hide diapers. Clarissa packed a large and hardly discreet diaper bag. She would serve as our nanny, tending to us in Sunday school so that Mrs. Woodhouse could attend the main service.
  12. May, 1937 Fiction by Angela Bauer As told to her by her loving husband, Don Davis In mid-June I would turn five. Since September 1936 I had been a child actor on network radio broadcast from New York City. Being on radio was fun, but there were also disadvantages. I was discovered while I was reading a story to other kids in my Kindergarten class. The advertising agency lady picked me because I could read and yet my voice sounded like an ordinary four-year-old. Then I was proud of having been toilet trained since I could remember. The primary downside for child actors was that we were required to wear diapers in the studio during performances and rehearsals. It was explained that because we performed live, it would not be possible to take potty breaks. Mind you this was a long time before disposable diapers were common, practical or even had factory-installed sticky tapes. At least in 1936 the revolutionary PlayTex stretchy latex baby pants were available from a single department store in New York City. We already had some of those because I needed diapers for bed. The washable diapers did improve during the 1930’s. Mine were the classic Curity rectangular 21x40” flat gauze diapers held in place with special “diaper” safety pins. My nanny was an expert at folding my diapers to fit me correctly for any situation. For bed she would fold two diapers together. For days she only used a single diaper so she changed those more often every two hours or less. Since the wet or soiled diapers needed to be taken home, diaper bags then were huge. Before I was discovered I did not think about toilet use. When I felt the need to go I went to a toilet. At school there were boy and girl restrooms connected to the classrooms. We did not need to ask permission. We just left our seat quietly, went to the toilet, did our thing and returned to our desks. I was not ashamed about wearing a diaper while on radio. The studio audience could not see the diapers inside our clothing. At the studio our restrooms were private from the audience. Over the first months I was hired for an increasing number of radio shows. Frequently I would be at the studio for many hours. If I was waiting between rehearsals or performances I would tell my Nanny that I needed a toilet. She would take me to the restroom where in private she would remove my diaper. I would then use the toilet as if I had simply lowered ordinary underpants. Once I finished and had cleaned myself my nanny would diaper me again. However, if I was in a rehearsal or performance I just used my diaper both to pee and to poop. At first my diaper was removed before the trip home and I was not diapered until I got to the studio. Then one time after several hours at the studio on the way home I felt the need to pee. I did pee, but since I was not wearing a diaper my trousers, underpants and the car seat got wet. I wasn’t spanked or scolded for wetting my pants, but the next day I was diapered at home before we left for the studio. I remained diapered until we returned home. The following week when I felt the need for a toilet my nanny told me to use my diaper and to only ask for a diaper change when doing so would be convenient. Of course at home I would forget I was not diapered. As a result I often wet my pants while awake and my bed while sleeping. Nanny must have spoken to my mother about the accidents and wet beds. One day after we got home Nanny told me I would remain diapered for the afternoon and for bed. I protested to my mother as soon as she got home from work. Instead of being sympathetic, my mother told me that if I refused to wear diapers at home I could no longer be an actor. I thought about that for several minutes before I told my mother I enjoyed acting so much that I would put up with wearing diapers at home and for the trips. What surprised me was that my mother asked my nanny to remove my diaper. Once my bottom was bare my mother put me over her lap and gave me the hardest spanking of my life up to then. She told me she spanked me for being an ungrateful brat. During April 1937 my work on radio slowed down. After a couple of days without work I no longer wet my bed. My mother told my nanny while I was in the room to not diaper me routinely and to go back to the old way. I did not have a wetting accident while asleep or while awake. I had a couple of radio jobs for which I was only diapered after getting to the studio. I would remain diapered until we got home. That seemed fair to me. Early in May 1937 I had a rehearsal and a performance on a Friday. I wet my diaper during the drive home, so I had to wear the wet diaper for about a half hour. At home Nanny removed the wet diaper. I used the toilet and put on underpants immediately. Saturday before lunch we had to go to a radio station. I was not diapered for the short trip. I just managed to reach a toilet before my bladder let go. Nanny was waiting with a diaper once I finished using the toilet. That evening I was sleepy before the drive home so I wore a diaper without protest. At home mother told me she had decided to return me to diapers full-time. I did not think I deserved to be diapered. My mother considered that I had thrown a tantrum, so she spanked me harder than usual. Then Nanny diapered me. Not wanting more spankings, I stopped complaining about being diapered. I also no longer asked to use toilets. Even my mother, who seldom changed my diapers, could tell when I needed changing. I was not in the least embarrassed about using the diapers I was required to wear. Friends about my age who were not actors were surprised I accepted being diapered. Those who visited our large apartment knew about the over-sized changing table and diaper pail in my room. Nanny never bothered to close my door when changing me. At the radio studios of all the networks the restrooms for child performers all had changing tables and cubbies for storage of diaper bags. Away from home and studios Nanny took me to ladies’ rooms. None of those had changing tables large enough for me even when I was only four. Most had no changing table. Nanny was ingenious and made do. Long before I was on radio I knew better than to squirm or wriggle during a diaper change. Nanny had unlimited authority to spank me if I failed to cooperate while being diapered.
  13. Thank you, CDfm, for pointing out the issues. I hope I fixed them all. If anyone sees any more errors, please don't hesitate to point them out. *** Do I Have To? by nautybaby *** "Do I really have to?" "I really think you should."  "But I don't want to." "We've been over this." "But I don't need them." "Last night and the laundry I've been doing lately says otherwise." "It won't happen again. I promise." "I've heard that before." "It's not fair!" "Fair or not, I won't have you ruining my friend's bed." "No!" I shouted. "You can't make me." "David!" she said sharply without raising her voice. "That's enough. I think we both know I can make you. Now, get your butt on that bed, and keep your voice down. That is unless you want Sharon to hear you getting a spanking on top of the tantrum you've been throwing." "You wouldn't," I blanched. "Try me." I looked into her steely eyes and slowly made my way to the bed. I lay down and gave her a pleading look. She simply grabbed the waist of my pajamas and began to tug. I gave in and lifted my bottom, allowing her to pull them down. She reached into my suitcase and pulled out the object of my dread. She had shown me the diapers before we left, but no matter how many times I saw them, I never got over just how big and thick they actually were. "Lift." I did and fought the urge to cry. She made short work of securing the diaper around my waist. She put the pajama bottoms back in my suitcase and locked it. "If you behave yourself, you can have those back in the morning." "You don't mean …" "We'll see. Now, get in bed." That was the end of a conversation that had been going on all day. Conversation, humph. Argument more like. It started when we were packing for the trip. I thought we were about ready when she brought out the package of diapers. "Are those what I think they are?" "Isn't that obvious?" "What do you have those for?" "Seriously?" "You don't expect me to wear those?" "I certainly do." "No way." "Yes way." "I won't." "You will. Now, hurry up. We're already late," she said, loading a number of the diapers into the case. "I don't need them. I've only had a couple of problems." "It started out as a couple of problems. It's gotten to be almost every night." "Yeah, almost. See, it's getting better." "I'm not going to wear them." "You are going to wear them, and that's final. Now, get dressed." She said all this so matter-of-factly that it made my blood boil. I stomped over to the suitcase and started taking the diapers out. I felt a sharp sting in my right bottom cheek. I shot up straight and turned around. "You will put those back, unless you want some more." Her eyes were hard. "No," I said with more confidence than I felt. "David, put those back right now, or so help me …" I stood my ground, hoping my trembling didn't show. "Is that really the way you want to play it? Have it your way." I thought I had won the battle. That feeling lasted only a second before pain erupted from my ear. She spun me around by it and threw me face down on the bed. There was a knee in my back and slaps were raining down on my underpants. "Stop. Stop!" "Are you going to pack your diapers and stop fussing?" "No!" "Fine. If that's the way you want it." "No!" I screamed, as my underwear was yanked down. After that, my words got less and less comprehensible until I was simply blubbering. Still not dressed, my belt was in handy reach to her. She put it to good use—good from her perspective anyway. "Are you ready to do as you are told?" "Yes," I sobbed. "Good. Finish packing and get dressed. We're leaving in five minutes. Don't make me have to 'encourage' you. And you can start with the diapers. I'll be back for the case in just a minute. It had better be ready." I hastily repacked the diapers and the rest of my clothes. True to her word, she was soon back, and after checking to see that I had indeed packed the diapers, she locked the case and took it downstairs. That left me a few minutes alone to nurse my bruised pride and bottom while I finished dressing. I found her behind the wheel of the car, waiting to get on the road. I climbed in the other side and sulked. We couldn't have been on the road for more than five minutes before I started restating my position about why I shouldn't have to wear diapers. She didn't argue with me. She listened in silence. I felt encouraged that I was making my point, my reasoning becoming more shrill the longer I went on. I found I was repeating myself, and she had yet to utter a word. My tirade petered out. After a minute of silence, she quietly asked, "Are you finished?" "Um, yeah, I guess." "Good. You've had your say. Now, I'm going to have mine. Like it or not, you have a problem. I've been extremely patient about it. I've even been the one to clean up after you. It's not going away. It's getting worse. We are going to be staying with my friend. I do not want you embarrassing me or yourself by wetting her bed. You are going to wear those diapers, and you are going to stop fussing about it. If you insist on being a big baby about it, I can treat you like one. That includes pulling this car over, spanking you again, and putting you in one of those diapers for the rest of the trip. I'm already not happy with you. Would you like to try your luck?" "No." "Good." The trip was mostly silent aside from some tunes softly playing on the radio. I stared out the window, opting to table the discussion for the time being. Occasionally, she nudged me and told me to stay awake, unless I wanted to put a diaper on and take a nap. Eventually, I faced forward, so she could see I was awake, and pouted. If I had been eight or ten or even twelve, I suppose these events would be understandable. But I was not twelve, and the woman driving was not my mommy. I was thirty-two, and she was my wife. When we arrived, Kathy, my wife, and Sharon hugged and air kissed like long-lost sisters. Sure, we lived far enough apart that they didn't see each other often, but they were on the phone at least once a week. I shook my head and got the bags. "Sorry we're late," Kathy said. "Packing took a bit longer than I expected." I had the impression that comment was aimed at me, but I ignored it. "Don't worry about it. It's just so good to see you. I know how it can be. You should try it with a baby sometime. I still can't believe the amount of stuff I had to get ready for Phil to take Abby for the week." I tried to picture Sharon's ex taking care of a baby on his own. I don't know if I found the images more funny or frightening. Oh well, maybe one of his girlfriends will help him out. "Yes," Kathy mused. "Packing for a baby can be a lot of work." I was sure that was directed at me. Again, I chose to ignore it. "Come on inside. Dinner's almost ready. Dave, you can take those right upstairs, first door on the right. You know the spot." When I came downstairs, Kathy asked, "Did you wash your hands?" I didn't like the way they both giggled. "Yes, I washed my hands," I replied irritably. "Don't be grumpy. I was just asking." Dinner was a long drawn out affair. Kathy and Sharon went on and on about this one and that one. I was mostly ignored, which suited me fine. I didn't have the slightest interest in whoever and whatever they were talking about. Mainly, I just picked at my food and drank more than my share of wine. During a lull, Sharon turned to me, "So, Dave, what's new and exciting with you these days?" "Nothing much," I mumbled. "Don't mind him," Kathy interjected. "I think he's just overtired from the trip. I'm sure he didn't mean to be rude." Her accusing tone was not lost on me. "Sorry. I guess I am a little tired." "I think we better get you into bed then." "Why, Kathy!" Sharon exclaimed. "I meant to sleep, you sex fiend," she laughed. "Come on, Davey, upstairs." Whether it was the trip or the wine, I was tired. I bade Sharon goodnight and climbed the stairs ahead of Kathy. "You go potty, then meet me in the bedroom," she said. Not thinking, I did as instructed. When I got to the bedroom, I saw her laying out the diaper on the bed. That's where you came in. Kathy had me tucked in and started to leave to room. "Where are you going? Aren't you coming to bed?" "Not just yet. Sharon and I have more to talk about, and there's most of a bottle of wine it would be a shame to waste. You go to sleep, and I'll be up in a while. I lay there for a time, replaying the day in my head. If I hadn't been tired and buzzed, I might have been more upset. Every now and again, I would hear their raucous laughter. I did my best not to believe they were talking about my sleeping attire. My thoughts turned to how I got into this mess in the first place. It started about month before. I had gotten a new boss, and it wasn't going well. Nothing seemed to please him. There was always something wrong, and no matter how small the problem was, he acted like it was the end of civilization as we know it. The harder I tried to anticipate what was wanted, the farther my attempts were from what he had in mind. I tried to get clearer instructions, but that only seemed to make him madder. It was really taking a toll on me and, no doubt, on Kathy. I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't set work aside at the end of the day. All I could think of was what the next confrontation was going to be about. I was distracted and short tempered. Even my dreams were filled with anxieties about everything that had happened and visions of what might be ahead. When I was able to sleep at all, it wasn't good. After a week of mostly sleepless nights, I found myself shaken awake by Kathy. I was completely disoriented and not hearing what she was saying. I don't know how many times she repeated it before it finally sank in. "David, wake up. You wet the bed." "What?" "You wet the bed." I rolled toward her, and it dawned on me. I wet the bed. That's right. She said that. Still only half awake, all I could say was, "I'm sorry." Kathy told me to go to the bathroom and clean up, and she would take care of the bed. Still to fuzzy to think, I did as she told me. My wet pajamas cooled quickly as I went. I stripped off and sat on the toilet, trying to clear my head. By the time I was awake enough to push out the little pee I had left and get washed up. I was deeply embarrassed by what I had done. I almost wanted to stay in the bathroom just to avoid having to look at Kathy. When I did come out, she was smoothing out towels over the wet spot. I almost went back in. "Good, you're finally back. Help me get the clean sheets on. Maybe we can still get some sleep before we have to get up." I picked up the bottom sheet and shook it out. She signaled she was ready, and I fluffed it over the bed. The two of us made short work of remaking the bed, and I thought Kathy was being really good about the situation. "Did you make sure to go peepee while you were in there?" So much for that. "Yes," I said, a bit more harshly than I intended. "Don't get snippy with me. I'm not the reason we're changing sheets in the middle of the night." "Sorry," I said, and I meant it. "Me too. Let's go back to bed, and we'll forget all about it. Okay?" "Okay," I said and hugged her tight. "I love you, and I am sorry." "I love you too. Now, go to sleep. Morning's going to come awfully early." That was easier said than done. I don't know how Kathy managed it. I lay there listening to her breathing, wondering how I could have wet myself and worrying that I might do it again. I think I drifted off just before the alarm went off. Work the next day was miserable. Besides the usual grief from my boss, my eyes were burning, and my head was pounding all day. By the time I got home, I was an exhausted wreck. After pushing my dinner around the plate for a while, I told Kathy I was going to bed. "I think that's a good idea. You had a rough night, and you look awful." "Thanks a lot." "You know what I mean. Go on. I'll clean up here. Don't forget to use the potty before you go night-night." "Not funny!" "Oh, come on. You know I'm joking. You may as well laugh as cry. It was just a one-time thing. Go get some rest, and I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning." I nodded and followed her advice, even stopping to "use the potty" on the way. Totally wiped out, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Not that it brought much rest. My dreams were the now usual of instant replays and anxious fantasies I had suffered for days. "Wake up, David," I heard, before I felt the shaking. "David, wake up." Once I realized it was Kathy, and not my mother trying to get me up for school, I sat bolt upright, panicking that I had done it again. "I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it." "It's alright, Dave," she said soothingly. "You didn't do anything. You didn't, did you? You were just having a bad dream. But as long as you're up, you may as well use the potty, just to be safe." I apologized and kissed her, and then decided a pee might be a good idea at that. There was a small wet spot on my pajama pants, but the bed was dry. I didn't mention it, and if Kathy noticed, she was kind enough to let it pass. Having limited my fluids all day, I don't know where it all came from. I did know I feel a lot better when I climbed back into bed. I slept better that night and felt more like my old self in the morning. That lasted for about an hour after I got to work. Then it was what had come to be business as usual. It was a particularly bad day. I was pushed and pulled in so many directions, I was beginning to doubt the sky was blue. If I had been thinking clearly, I probably would have guessed it was going to happen again. Kathy was again supportive and more patient than I felt I deserved. Again, she got us cleaned up and back to sleep in short order. I had a few good days, with no nighttime problems, even though things were just as bad, if not worse at work. I was starting to feel confident when it happened a third time. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream, and I think Kathy knew it. Once back in bed, she held me and whispered reassuring things until I went to sleep. The pattern continued, and I ended up having five wet nights in two weeks. After the last of those, Kathy sat me down in the morning. "Dave, this … um … problem you've been having is not getting better. I think you should see somebody about it." The thought of telling my doctor and friend, George Simmons, that I was wetting the bed filled me with dread. "That's not really necessary. I'm sure it will stop on its own. It's not that big a deal." "Says the man who's not washing the sheets. You're right. It may be nothing serious, but then again it might be. And, frankly, I'm getting tired of being woken up in the middle of the night and having to clean up after you. Get on that phone and make an appointment, or I'll do it for you." "Alright, alright, I'll call." I was greatly relieved when George's office told me they couldn't fit me in for at least two weeks. I begged off making an appointment, telling them that I was just feeling a little under the weather, and it would probably pass before they could see me. Kathy was not happy but understood it was not my fault, and she let the matter drop. Or so I thought. That afternoon, I got a call from her telling me to meet her at Dr. MacPherson's office at 4:30. Having to tell my boss I needed to leave early while avoiding the reason was not a pleasant conversation to say the least. I was happy just to get out of there when the time came. At least, I was until I was on the way and started thinking about what was going to happen at the appointment. Margaret MacPherson had been my doctor growing up. Her general practice had served all my family, and Kathy became her patient shortly after we were married. After college, when I had some voice in the matter, I insisted that seeing a female doctor was uncomfortable, and that's when I came under George's care. I was not looking forward to going back to her. Dr. MacPherson—I never could bring myself to call her anything else—literally knew me inside and out. She had seen me through all my childhood illnesses, broken bones, acne, and everything else. To me, she would always be Dr. MacPherson. Kathy, on the other hand, having come to her later in life, always call her Margaret. They had become fast friends, and Dr. MacPherson was almost a surrogate mother to Kathy. Kathy and I were called back shortly after I arrived. We were shown into a room where Dr. MacPherson was waiting for us. "Kathy, how wonderful to see you! And Davey, just look at you, so grown up!" With her rosy cheeks, halo of white hair, and the soft Glasgow burr that never left her, it was impossible to be upset by her comment. She was everybody's favorite grandmother. "Hello, Dr. MacPherson. It's nice to see you again." "And you too, dear. How is your mother? I miss seeing her since she moved away." "She's well, thank you. I'll tell her you were asking after her." "Oh, yes, do. So, what brings you in today?" I sat there trying to think of some way to tell her why I was there. I could feel my face getting redder and redder. Still, no words would come out. Finally, Kathy just took over. "Davey," she said, using the same boyhood nickname, "has been having some problems keeping the bed dry at night." There it was, right out on the table. "Oh! Is your wee problem back, dear?" the doctor asked gently. She placed her hand on top of mine reassuringly but couldn't avoid a small titter at her unintended pun. I'm sure Kathy had thought she was trying to be discrete about the issue, but it felt more like a mother trying to be gentle about a child's potty-training setbacks. My mother had used almost those same words many years before. "Back?" Kathy asked. "Oh my, yes, dear," she said without regard for my embarrassment. "Davey was quite the little waterworks when he was a boy, weren't you, Davey. I wondered for a long time if we would ever get him out of nappies." It finally dawned on her that this was extremely uncomfortable for me. I am sure that face was bright red. I could feel heat radiating from the blush. "But that was a long time ago, wasn't it dear? What seems to be the problem?" Without hesitation, Kathy began describing my symptoms as if I weren't in the room or too small to speak for myself. "He doesn't seem to be sleeping well. He's constantly tossing and turning, and he's always still tired when he wakes up. He's been distant and irritable, and every few days, he wets the bed." "Oh, I'm so sorry. What seems to be the problem, Davey? Is something bothering you?" With some prompting and a great deal of prodding, I told the whole story about what was going on at work. Kathy knew or guessed some of it, but I did not want to let on just how bad it really was. Once they got me to open up, it all came pouring out. The exhaustion and that day's fight with the boss caught up with me, and I was sobbing by the time I finished the tale. I was calming down before I realized Kathy had pulled my head to her shoulder, and she was stroking my hair and shushing me gently. Dr. MacPherson's face was a mix of sympathy and anger. "It's just like that teacher you had all over again. Och, that woman! I'd still like to get my hands on her." She told the story of Mrs. Hannity, my fourth-grade teacher. She was nearing retirement and had a grandson who was a spoiled rotten little hellion. I had the misfortune of bearing him a striking resemblance, and she took out all complaints about him on me. I resented her accusations but came to half-believe that I was as bad as she made out. I fell into depressed and listless state, and my grades suffered. My mother asked me what was wrong, and I tried to tell her about my issues with the teacher and how unfair she was. My mother, of course, took the teacher's side and told me I had to stop being lazy and work harder, which is one of the things Mrs. Hannity accused me of. It all came to a head one day when I turned in a half-completed homework assignment. I had fallen asleep over the paper and didn't have time to finish it before school. Mrs. Hannity went on a tirade the likes of which I had never seen, not only about the homework but about the messy state of my desk and anything else she could think of. When she dumped my desk over onto the floor, I was so shocked and scared, I wet my pants. That stopped her ranting but infuriated her all the more. She went silent and the color rose in her face. She grabbed my ear and dragged me to the office. She told them she would not suffer a baby like me in her class. I sobbed and sobbed while the secretary called my mother. I was still in tears, shivering in my wet pants when she arrived. The ride home was no better, as she went on and on about how ashamed she was to have a boy my age wetting his pants in school, how I was going to have to apologize to everyone involved, and how was she ever going to be able to show her face again. I ran into the house, crying my eyes out. I stripped out of my wet clothes and threw myself on my bed and bawled my eyes out. It was all so unfair. I must have cried myself to sleep, because my mother was gently trying to rouse me. She appeared considerably calmer and asked me what had happened. I told her the whole story in lurid detail. The more I told her, the angrier she got but not at me. She took me in her arms and told me how sorry she was. When we had both settled down, she told me to wash up and get dressed. We were going back to the school. I begged her not to make me go. She told me not to worry about it, I would not have to be in Mrs. Hannity's class ever again, if she had anything to say about it. I followed with great reluctance as she strode into the office. "I want to see the principal. Now!" I had never seen my mother so forceful, not with adults anyway. I don't think the secretary had either, because we were shown into Mr. Mellon's office almost immediately. My mother really gave him an earful about all that had done on. I was mostly ignored except to fill in some blanks and details. Mr. Mellon promised an investigation and said I'd be put into Miss Sanderson's class for the duration. For the year, my mother insisted and got her way. I don't know the full extent of what happened. I did have to tell the story one more time to some people I didn't know. Shortly after that, Mrs. Hannity "got sick," and we heard she was taking an early retirement. I felt and did better in Miss Sanderson's class. I think I even developed a little crush on her. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. From the day of the incident until a long time after, I had nightmares about it and started wetting the bed. Today, we would call it post-traumatic stress disorder, but not back then, especially not with children. My mother was patient for a time, but it was short-lived. She took me to Dr. MacPherson, who recognized the problem and was sympathetic to both of us and assured us it would pass in time. There was little she could do, however, and her only recommendation was "night nappies," as she put it, until I got over it. Despite my protests and promises not to let it happen again, my mother agreed there was no other option. She insisted that she was as embarrassed about it as I was, but I didn't think that was possible. That was the first of many nights my mother put me in a diaper. It did not come without an argument and a couple of slaps on my behind. The nightmares eventually stopped but the wetting didn't. I was in middle school before I was reliably dry, and the diapers were a thing of the past. Nevertheless, my mother kept a waterproof cover on my bed through high school, "just in case." Now, here I was again, facing the same problem for much the same reasons. Dr. MacPherson was again sympathetic and reassuring, but her solution was the same. She prescribed some antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication, but until I could deal with the stressors, I could expect more wet nights. The best thing was to start wearing nappies to keep the bed dry and allow us both a decent night's sleep. She recommended we get them from a medical supply store, as the ones to be found in supermarkets and pharmacies were virtually useless. She recommended a shop that could also fill my prescriptions. "Don't worry, dear," she comforted me. "I'm sure you'll get over it, and you'll be all dry in no time, just like before." Knowing how long that "before" lasted, I was not reassured. Kathy thanked Dr. MacPherson for both of us and promised to call her to have lunch soon. Dr. MacPherson bade us goodbye and made me promise to send her regards to my mother. Kathy drove us to the medical store. I begged her not to make me wear diapers. It was like reliving the argument with my mother all those years ago. Kathy would have none of it and insisted I go inside with her. There, she handed over the prescription and proceeded to ask the lady about "nighttime protection." She lady asked a lot of, to my mind, unnecessary and intrusive questions. Kathy went into lurid detail about the problems I was having and how heavily I wet. She insisted we should buy a whole case of their most absorbent product, saying she would take back any unopened packages if things cleared up in a short time, but the case lot was far more economical if the problem persisted. Kathy agreed, and I had to carry a huge box of all too conspicuously labeled "adult briefs" to the car. I took up the argument again at bedtime. It was just like been ten years old all over again, me begging and promising to wet anymore, Kathy reasoning that I couldn't make that promise, and she wanted a good night's sleep. It all got rather heated until Kathy gave me a couple of swats on the behind and told me that was enough. I was again the little boy at the mercy of his mother. I lay down and let her put the dreaded thing on. Memories flooded back as she raised the thick padding between my legs. I was weeping when she fastened the last tape and gave the front a pat. I lay awake for a time, feeling sorry for myself, but the drugs kicked in, and I soon drifted off. I'm pretty sure I had nightmares again, mixed up visions of my boss and Mrs. Hannity. I panicked when Kathy shook me awake. I quickly felt for the felt for the wet spot and blurted out that I didn't wet the bed. Kathy told it was just time to get up, and I realized there was sunlight coming in the window. I was relieved until Kathy gave my crotch a squeeze. We both knew in an instant that I had not had a dry night. Not dry at all, I realized when I stood, and the diaper sagged between my legs. It was with a good deal of depression that I took it off and had my shower, and I still had work to look forward to. It was hard to think of anything else that day, and my boss was no better than usual. The only thing that got me through was the thought that I would be leaving for vacation that afternoon. I had used some accumulated sick time to take the extra half-day off for the drive to Sharon's house. I was happy to leave the office and my boss behind. Those were my thoughts as I drifted off. Soon enough, I felt Kathy climb in next to me. She curled up against my back, and I felt her hand work around to the front. She squeezed my crotch, and I thought she was up to something good. Then I heard her whisper. "You'll last till morning." Whereupon, she rolled over. I was too much asleep to fully comprehend what she meant. There must have been a part of me that did understand, as I slept fitfully after that. I have vague recollections of dreams wherein I was being scolded by my mother for wetting my pants … again. When I felt Kathy shaking me awake, I didn't feel much more rested than when I went to sleep. To top it off, my head was pounding. "Good thing we put that on you. I hope that satisfies you that I know what I'm doing, and we won't have a problem again tonight." I felt the squish when I rolled over, as well as a pounding in my skull. I couldn't bear to look at her, but I managed to mumble a dejected, "No." She reached down and undid the tapes. I tried to help, but she just swatted my hands away. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'm sure it will make you feel better. There's coffee waiting when you're done." She handed me my pajama pants, and I took her up on her advice. The shower did help. I felt almost human when I got out. If only that guy would lay off the drums. Not ready for the rigors of getting dressed, I returned to my pajamas and a robe and went downstairs. Coffee, lots of it, finished the job. By the time I had had something to eat, I was moderately ready to face the day. "Okay," Kathy said. "Get dressed. We're going shopping." I groaned, showing none of the enthusiasm she had. "Shopping? Really? Do I have to go? I'm still tired, and my head hurts." I admit it. I was whining. "Yes, you have to go. You're not going to just waste the day or get into who knows what kind of trouble. Besides, it's your own fault your head hurts. Now, upstairs; scoot." "You know," Sharon intervened. "He does still look a little green behind the gills." That made me like Sharon a little more. Kathy looked me over. "Hmm, maybe. We'll discuss it while he gets dressed. Let's go." Kathy shut the bedroom door, and I turned to her. "Don't make me go. You know I'll be useless and bored, and I really don't feel all that well." "You do look a little under the weather," she conceded. "Though I don't know why you should be rewarded for tying one on last night." "It's not a reward. Trust me, I'm being punished for last night. Please let me stay here. You two will have a lot more fun without me." "You're probably right at that. But I'm not so sure about leaving you here alone. If you're as tired as you say you are, you'll probably take a nap, and that risks Sharon's furniture. No, you'll just have to come along." "Please, honey, I'll stay awake, I promise. Besides, I never have problems during the day." "That's because you don't sleep in the day. I think it's best you come along." "Aww! Please don't make me. Nothing will happen; I promise." I gave her my best puppy dog eyes. "Well," she considered, "I suppose there might be one way." "Yes! Yes! Whatever you say. Just don't make me go with you." "You're sure now? It really means that much for you to stay here?" "Yes! Absolutely. I'll do it." "Alright, but you insisted. There's no turning back now. Go potty, and we'll get your diaper on." "What!" "That's the deal. You said you are too tired to go, and I can't trust you to stay awake or not wet in your sleep. If you stay home, I want you in a diaper. That way I can feel safe if you do take a nap." "But I said I'd stay awake. I have work I can do. That'll keep me awake." "We're on vacation. You shouldn't be working. Besides, we both know how well you stay on task without someone to watch you. No, diapers or shopping; it's your choice." I was torn. It was bad enough having to wear them at night, but at least I could ignore them then. On the other hand, department stores, fitting rooms, girl talk. "Fine. You win." And I went across to the bathroom. The diaper was already laid out when I got back. Condemned to my fate, I took off my clothes and lay down. Kathy efficiently diapered me. "Wait a second. What if I have to pee?" "That should be obvious." "But I'll be awake." "This was your idea." "It was not my idea! It was yours." "Alright, maybe the idea was, but it was your choice, and it's been made. We're not wasting that diaper, just because you didn't think it through." She appeared to be thinking of something. She reached in her purse and pulled out a marker. Before I knew what she was up to, she was marking her initials over the intersections of the tapes and the plastic. "That'll make sure you don't try taking it off as soon as I'm out the door. If you do, I'll know, and you'll get that spanking, Sharon or no Sharon." She got thoughtful again, and then she threw me for a loop. She pulled out another diaper. "What are you going to do with that?" I asked, shocked. "I'm going to double diaper you. I don't know how long we'll be out, and I can't take a chance of your leaking. The two should hold all your peepees. Up." It was obvious I was not going to win here. I let her put it on me. She used her long fingernails to poke a few holes in the inner one before taping up the outer. She repeated the trick with the marker. She gave the whole package as couple of satisfied pats. "There, all snug and safe and ready for your day. Now, since you claim you are not feeling well, I expect you to take it easy. Nap if you can. I want you feeling better, so we can do things together the rest of our stay." "Okay," I sighed. "Don't take that tone. You got what you wanted." I hadn't but didn't argue the point. "Get dressed and come say goodbye to Sharon and me." Kathy left the room, and I stood up to dress. The bulk between my legs was incredible. A bowlegged waddle was all I could manage. I tried to put on some khakis, but it wasn't happening. I resigned myself to putting my pajamas back on and threw on my robe. Stairs aren't easy when you can't put your knees together. I had to take them one at a time, and each one was accompanied by a distinct rustling I really hoped only I could hear. I stood as still as I could by the door and let the ladies come to me for a quick kiss and hug goodbye. Kathy surreptitiously patted my bottom and told me to be a good boy. I'm sure I jumped. I only hoped Sharon didn't notice, but her smile didn't make me optimistic. I watched them drive away and wondered what I was going to do with myself. It was difficult to walk normally, and the crinkling, exceptionally loud to my ears, was distracting. I did have some work I could do, but I wasn't enthused by the prospect. I got out my laptop anyway and set up at the kitchen table. After getting a cup of coffee and checking my email, all junk, I opened my work project. I stared at for fifteen minutes or so before closing it down again. I was on vacation and in no mood to work. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for much of anything. The double thick diaper kept me focused on my problems and my plight. I figured, or hoped anyway, that I was not alone. Surely there were other men this happened to. Maybe there was some advice on how to handle the situation, preferably advice that did not rely on diapers. If I could show Kathy some alternative, maybe she would relent. The internet was not coming to my rescue. Oh, there was some consolation in finding out that I was not the only adult who experienced bedwetting problems. Most of the information indicated that they were stress related and would eventually pass along with the stressors. There were other causes that were, quite frankly, kind of scary. I would have to consider seeing a doctor. Not my regular doctor. I thought I would die if I had to tell George about this problem. The shock for me, though, was not the number of people who had the problem but the number who seemed to revel in it and the number who didn't have it but wanted to. The number of stories, true, fictional, or mixed, was staggering. Most seemed to fantasy, or mostly so. That of itself was cause for thought. The number of those where the problem was dealt with by the sufferer’s wife, girlfriend or mother enforcing the use of diapers was frightening. Apparently, I was not alone, either in diapers or in being spanked. At least some of the stories had to contain some truth. While I was reading, my morning coffee was catching up with me. I made a vow that I would wait it out and show Kathy my wearing diapers was ridiculous, at least during the day. I was not quite so confident about nighttime. Unfortunately, the amount of coffee I drink, and the effects it has on my bladder, made me doubt my resolve pretty quickly. I held on for as long as I could, but after a couple of painful spasms and a look at how little time had gone by, I knew I couldn't take it. The flood that followed was mind-blowing. As hard as it is to admit, the relief, after fighting the urge for so long, was almost orgasmic. That is until the reality of the situation began to sink in. I was sitting there in a soaking wet diaper, a grown man wallowing in his own pee. I could feel the wetness all around me, and I was sure that I had to have leaked. I stood up and checked the chair, bone dry. I checked out the diaper as best I could. Except for a few small spots between my legs, where I remembered Kathy poking holes, it showed no sign of what I did. I felt disgusted with myself but relieved I hadn't flooded the kitchen. Under Kathy's implicit threat and my implicit promise, I knew I was stuck in this situation until they got back. I could only hope it wouldn't be too long and that Kathy would give me some warning of their return. It was going to be bad enough facing her, having wet myself. The idea that Sharon might notice was unthinkable. Having no way out of my predicament without making Kathy more mad at me, I went back to my research. I decided to concentrate on how people like me felt about the situation. "People like me," there was a strange thought. Only hours before, I would have considered identifying a community of adults in diapers crazy. As expected, I found embarrassment, depression, and a fair amount of self-loathing. I did not expect to find so many people who gave every impression that they enjoyed being in diapers. I certainly never expected to find that group that referred to themselves as Adult Babies, people who actively sought out the opportunity to relive the experience of being toddlers or even younger. I found the pictures rather disconcerting. Was that where I was headed? It was inevitable that I would have to pee again while I surfed away. The need was less pronounced, and the hour was getting later. Again, I tried to hold off. I hadn't lasted very long when the other effect coffee has started to hit me. I was not going to give into that one, but holding that back made the pressure on my bladder worse. Eventually, it came down to a choice of the lesser of two evils. I was already wet, so the decision to wet some more was not difficult. The feeling was not as intense as before, but I did feel a lot better, and the other urge seemed to abate. I was hungry now, and made myself some lunch, just a quick sandwich and some juice. More coffee seemed like a bad idea. Eating took my mind off my troubles for the moment. It also made me sleepy. I felt that a nap might not be such a bad idea after all and went upstairs to lie down. I guess I didn't realize how tired I was, as I was rather disoriented when I heard Sharon's bright announcement that they were home. I rolled over with a squish. I knew without looking that I had wet in my sleep, and the diaper was considerably fuller than when I came upstairs. I also realized my other problem was coming back with a vengeance. There was a deep rumble in my gut that would need attention and soon. I was trying to shake off the cobwebs and figure out what to do when I heard footsteps on the staircase. That made me panic, which didn't help my situation any. The door swung open, and there was Kathy, thankfully alone. "What's the matter," she asked, concerned. "I … uh … hi," I said. "You must have needed that nap," she said, walking over to the bed. "Any problems while we were gone?" "Um … no … not really. Now that your home can I take this … thing off?" "Yes, I think so. Just let me make sure you were a good boy and didn't mess with it." Before I could stop her, she had the covers pulled back. I made a grab for my pajama bottoms, but she sharply slapped my hands. She wrestled the pants down while I begged her not to. "Oh my god! It's a good thing I put you in two. You're soaked." "Uh … yeah … you were gone a long time. Now please let me take this off. I have to go." "I can't imagine you have anything left in you." "Not that, the other." "Oh! Does my little boy have to go poopy?" she asked with a little too much relish. "Please, Kathy. This is hard enough." "Aww. Is it hard to hold it? Do you want to make a boom-boom in your diaper?" "Kathy, enough. Just let me up." I was getting desperate. "Don't get snippy with me, Mr. Soggybottom. Go on, if you have to go so bad." She got out of the way, and I leapt from the bed. I made for the bathroom and fell flat on my face. My pants were still around mid-thigh. The fall distracted, and I pooped a little. Please don't let it smell, I hoped. Kathy was at my side in a second, helping me to my feet. She pulled up my pants and gave my bottom a pat. I started for the door. "Not so fast. Come back here." "Kathy, I really need to …" "Here. Now," she said, pointing at the floor in front of her. I clenched my cheeks and went to the spot. "Turn around." I knew arguing about it was not going to get me anywhere. I did as I was told and hoped against hope that what I knew was coming wouldn't. It did. She pulled back the waistbands of my pajamas and diapers and looked down the back. "I don't believe it. You did. You filthy little boy." She grabbed my ear and started dragging me toward the bathroom. That painful shock and sudden unbalance caused me to drop more into the seat of my pants. I felt sick. Kathy slammed the bathroom door behind us. "Really? Really? You actually pooped your pants. Unbelievable. What have you got to say for yourself?" I tried to come up with an explanation. My mouth moved, but nothing came out. Kathy gave an exasperated sigh. "Get those pajamas off." I did and turned to put them on a hook. "Did you go more?" She felt the back of my pants. "You did, didn't you? I can't believe you. Lie down." I squatted down slowly, trying to minimize the additional mess this was going to make. "Is everything alright in there?" Sharon was at the door! In that position, it was all too much for me. Whatever was left in my bladder and bowels found its way into my pants. It was all I could do to hold back the tears. "Yes, I guess so," Kathy sighed. "Just a little emergency we need to take care of." "Nothing serious, I hope." "Nothing a bath won't fix." "A bath?" Silence. "Oh. Well, never mind. Come down when you're ready. I'll start dinner." "Alright, stinker. Let's get you cleaned up." She started the bath running. That's when tears started. Thoroughly ashamed, I lay down and let Kathy untape the diapers. "Oh, God!" she choked. "Why did you do that in your pants? Why didn't you just take it off?" "You told me I couldn't!" "I know didn't, but I didn't mean you should …" She rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. "Okay. I guess this is partly my fault. I could have thought it through better and been clearer with you, but only partly. You're having some difficulties with your bladder, and I understand the reasons for that. It's okay. I just put you in a diaper to protect you and Sharon's furniture. But you are certainly old enough to know you shouldn't poop your pants, no matter what I said. I can't believe you did that." She sighed and dumped the poop in the toilet. "Just get in the shower. I'm getting a headache and can't talk about this now." I got in and let the stink and humiliation wash off of me. Clean and smelling better, I was feeling somewhat better when I got out. Then I noticed the diapers were gone. What had Kathy done with them? I didn't know what I would have done with them, but they had to go somewhere. What if Sharon saw them? My head was spinning, and my heart was pounding when I got dressed and went downstairs. Sharon didn't say anything when I entered the kitchen, but her sympathetic smile was all I needed to know the cat was out of the bag. Avoiding eye contact, I mumbled hello and took a seat at the table. I spent the remainder of the evening trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Despite knowing a diaper was in my future, I was almost looking forward to going to bed. When Kathy suggested I take my meds and make an early night of it, I had no objections. "Meds? Are you sick, Dave?" "No," Kathy explained for me. "Dave's been really stressed out at work, and the doctor just gave him something to get over the hump." "Oh, is that why he's …" She stopped short. "Well, I just hope you start feeling better real soon." "Thanks. Goodnight." I went upstairs with Kathy close behind. She closed the door behind us, and I turned on her. "How could you tell her?" I said sharply, keeping my voice low. "How could I not? I had to get rid of that diaper, and she was right there. There was no avoiding it." "But she … How can I face … I can't …" My frustration mounted as I tried to speak. Grasping for words, my emotions got the best of me, and my eyes filled with tears. "I want to go home." I sank down on the bed and cried. With my face in my hands, I sobbed, "Why? Why? Why? I can't do this anymore. I can't take it. I just want to die." Kathy grabbed my head and forced me to look at her. "Don't you ever say that! I love you. I don't want to live without you. You are not to even think like that, do you understand me? If you ever say anything like that again, I swear, I'll spank you so hard …" She sat down and took me in her arms. She was crying too. "We'll get through this, together. Just don't ever think about leaving me like that. I love you so much." We sat like that for a long time, holding each other and letting it all out. I was drained and hardly noticed when Kathy began to undress me. Filled with love for her I started to caress her. "No, honey. I think we are both too tired for that tonight. Let's get your diaper on. It's been a rough day all around." Disappointed but with no strength to object, I let her dress me. She got me a glass of water to take my meds, and she tucked me into bed. She held me until I went to sleep. I don't remember her leaving, but I sort of noticed her getting back in. I rolled over and snuggled close to her. I was wet again the next morning but felt more rested. I was alone. There was a stack of clothes on the bed with a plastic bag and a note on top. "Get dressed and come downstairs. You can put your diaper in the bag and bring that with you." I put the wet diaper in the bag, had a quick wash and got dressed. I wasn't looking forward to carrying the object of my shame downstairs, but I and it couldn't stay there forever. Sharon and Kathy were having coffee in the kitchen. I tried to dispose of the package as discretely as possible, but I think I only managed to draw more attention to myself. "Honey, sit down. We need to talk about something." Here we go, I thought. This wasn't going to be good. Sharon brought me a cup of coffee. That helped some. "Sweetheart, I know you are really uncomfortable about all this, but I think we have to acknowledge the elephant in the room. We are all aware that you are going to have to wear diapers to bed for a while. There, I said it. Diapers, diapers, diapers. Pretending that you don't is making us all uncomfortable. Sharon understands, and so do I. It's not your fault; it's just the way things are right now. Your trying to hide from the fact is just creating more stress you don't need. So, as of now, we are going to stop walking on eggshells and simply accept your diapers as a fact of life. Among ourselves, we'll speak openly about them if needed, and we won't make a big deal about disposing of them. That will save us all a lot of worry and trouble." I just stared into my coffee cup. I did not want to look at anyone, especially Sharon. I was fine pretending. Having to acknowledge the problem to someone else was not something I wanted to do. "It's okay, Dave," Sharon said. "I know the pressure you are under, and I understand how you feel." "How could you?" "I see this all the time in my work. People come in all the time feeling overwhelmed by it all. They feel the whole world wants something of them they can't give. They feel powerless to change the situation or fight back. They react in all kinds of ways. All too many of them turn to drugs or alcohol, and that only makes things worse. All things considered, a little thing like bedwetting is not so bad." "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to wear …" "Diapers. You can say it. You're not weak or lazy or whatever else you are telling yourself to bring you down. It's a stress reaction, nothing more. From what Kathy tells me about your boss, I'm proud of you for not turning to something self-destructive. You just need to find a way to deal with the stress, to let it go, to feel empowered. You feel helpless, and I'm sure you think the diapers prove it. On the contrary, by wearing them, you are taking control of the situation by the best means possible. By wearing them, you're getting rest; Kathy's getting rest; the bed is staying clean and dry. The way I figure it, you've taken a big first step in getting better." "Thanks, I guess." I didn't really feel any better. "Dave," Kathy said, "I think there's something else you should consider. There's no rush, especially as we are on vacation; so, take as much time as you need. I think you should really think about quitting your job." "I can't just quit." "Not so fast, hear me out. Your boss is a bully. I'm sure he'll be found out eventually, but in the meantime, your life there is going to be miserable. I don't think you can really get better, if you stay there. You might learn to live with it, but at what cost? We've been doing alright. We don't actually need both our salaries. With a little bit of trimming, we can live on what I make. If it takes you a while to find something else, we'll make do. And I bet you could always get some work on a consulting basis. I'm not saying you have to quit, but it's an option, and you'll have my support. Just think it over." "I can't just let you support me," I protested. "You'd support me, if I had to quit, wouldn't you?" "That's different." "Why? Because you're a man? Look at the calendar. It's not the 1950s anymore. We're partners. We support each other, no matter what. If you never took another job and just stayed home and took care of the house, you'd still be supporting me. That's what we do. We have each other's back." "But I'd feel so …" "For a while, maybe," Sharon interjected, "but you'll get over that. I had a patient who went through much the same thing. He felt bad about it for a while, but once he got used to it, he loved being a househusband. He felt like he was making a real contribution. He was able to do things he never had time for. He makes a little money on the side from his hobbies. He's very happy. He says some of his friends tell him in private that they envy him." "I don't know …" "Just think about it. Take all the time you need," Kathy said. "A day, a week, a month, whatever you need, but think about it seriously. I think it would be good for you, but it's your decision. Whatever you decide, I'm behind you, but please, please, do consider it." "Alright," I said, as much to end the conversation as anything. "Good, it's settled." I didn't think it was settled at all but let it go. "Now, Sharon tells me there's an exhibition downtown that's right up your alley. Finish your coffee, and let's go." The exhibition was as good as advertised. I don't know about the girls, but I had a good time. Model trains aren't everybody's cup of tea. Kathy knew my fascination, even though I hadn't had a set since I was a kid. I think she was bored after the first ten minutes, but she let me have the run of the gawk over them. She and Sharon feigned interest when I explained all about the different scales and old rail lines. They smiled and nodded, and then let me run off to the next display while they hung about to talk. The rest of week was taken up with various activities. Some I enjoyed more than others, none as much as the trains. It was all a good distraction from my troubles and had me worn out by evening. Between the activity and the meds, I was getting some much-needed rest. When I woke up dry on Friday morning, I thought I was turning a corner. Kathy praised me, which actually made me feel a little worse, but I took it in the spirit it was intended and didn't say anything. That night, it was decided, we would stay in for movies and margaritas. I took it easy, because I didn't know how the alcohol would react with my meds. Kathy made up for it, drinking the rest of my share as well as her own. She was pretty toasted by the end of the evening. She knocked over her glass and cut here finger picking up broken pieces. I thought we might have to take her to the emergency room, but we got the bleeding stopped pretty quickly. "Geez, that hurts," she slurred. "Um, Sharon? I'm not sure I can take care of Davey like this. Would you mind?" "What!" Sharon and I said in unison. "This really hurts, and I'm not sure I can work the tapes." "I can do it myself." "I don't know that you can, and neither do you. You've never done it before, and it has to be harder to put one on yourself than someone else. I don't want you leaking all over the place by putting it on wrong, and I'm sure Sharon doesn't either." I looked to Sharon for support, but she had an amused grin on her face. She was actually warming to the idea. "You're right, Kathy. A diaper isn't much good if it leaks all over. Sure, I'll help out. I'm sure Davey won't mind." "But …" "It's not like she hasn't seen one before," Kathy said, anticipating my protest. "And it's just this one time. I'll be better tomorrow. You two go on upstairs. I'll clean up down here." "Just put everything in the sink. You shouldn't get that finger wet. Come on, Davey. Auntie Sharon will get you ready for night-night." "That's right," Kathy laughed. "You be a good boy for Auntie Sharon." I didn't like being treated like a little boy, but I wrote it off to their inebriation. I took Sharon's outstretched hand and followed her upstairs. She went right to work getting a diaper laid out for me. I stood there unsure I could go through with it. "Take off your pants, silly. We can't do anything with those on. Here, let Auntie help." Before I could react, she was undoing my pants and pushing them down. "Why, Davey! I'm flattered, but what would your mommy say?" I was deeply embarrassed by my tumescent state, but her reaction to only made it worse. I started to apologize, but Sharon cut me off. "Don't worry about it. Little boys are always doing that when they get their diapers changed. Now, let's get those clothes off, so we can get you all wrapped up. We wouldn't want any accidents, would we?" Sharon was obviously more drunk than I thought. I hoped she, at least, wouldn't remember this in the morning. I told myself to just get through it, and finished undressing. I lay down on the open diaper and looked away, waiting for this to be over. "Oh, it looks like baby is getting a bit of a rash, I'd better get some powder for that." She started to leave but tuned right around folded the front of the diaper up over me. "Just in case. You never know with boys." She was gone for a few minutes, which was enough for me to subside a little. She had just walked in the door when we heard a thud on the stairs. "Whoopsies," we heard between giggles. "You alright out there?" Sharon asked. "Yeah, fine. Be right up." There was another, smaller thump followed by more giggles. "Right up." Sharon shook her head, smiling, and got back to work. She drew back the diaper and sprinkled the powder, quite a lot in my opinion. That brought me back to my previous state. She started to smooth it, and I whimpered. Kathy chose that moment to walk in the door. "Davey, you naughty boy! I should spank you for that." "Don't spank him. He just a little sweet on his Auntie Sharon, aren't you, baby? Besides, you know how boys are. Remember when we used to babysit my cousins?" "Yes," Kathy laughed. "Roger especially. Did he get that from his father? Your aunt is a lucky woman." "So she says." All this talk was not helping my situation, neither was the fact that Sharon was still rubbing in the powder. Kathy sat down next to me. "Is that true, baby? Do you have a little crush on Auntie Sharon? Do you like it when she rubs you down there? Oops! I guess you do!" "Oh, dear. I guess we'll have to start over. I'll go get a washcloth." Sharon wen to the bathroom, while I wished I could have died right there. "I wearing diapers has an upside after all," Kathy giggled. I just hoped she would feel the same way when she was sober. Sharon returned with a wet washcloth and with much greater efficiency had me cleaned up, powdered and diapered in no time. I got up to put on my pajamas and take my meds. Kathy was lying back and moaning a little. "What about you, girlfriend? Are you going to be alright, or does Auntie Sharon need to put a diaper on you too? You don't look so good." "No. I'm a big girl," Kathy slurred. "Okay, but if you're wet in the morning, you'll be the one getting the spanking." That image had me stirring again. I helped Sharon undress Kathy and get her into the bed. Sharon kissed my cheek and told me not to worry. We were all friends and more than a little drunk. I knew that wasn't true of me but recognized it was her way of saying the episode was nothing more than a little harmless fun. We said goodnight, and I climbed in next to Kathy. I don't know if my dreams were more disturbing or exciting. I do know I wasn't anxious for them to end. I had visions of Kathy squirming across Sharon's lap when I realized those sounds weren't in my head. I turned to see Kathy gone and a good size wet spot in her place. I stumbled across the hall to find my dream a reality. Kathy was sprawled face down across Sharon's lap, pleading with Sharon to stop. Her obviously wet panties lay at her feet. "I told you, you should have worn a diaper last night," Sharon said as she landed a slap to Kathy's already glowing behind. "Remember those parties in college. You should know better than to drink that much." I shook my head, not believing what I was seeing. Sharon took notice of my presence. "Good morning, Davey. You see what happens to little girls who don't listen to Auntie?" "Oh no! Dave! Go away. Please." "Quiet," Sharon said with another slap. "And don't think it can't happen to little boys either. Well, young lady, have you learned your lesson yet?" "Alright, go get cleaned up, and bring those sheets down to be washed." Kathy scrambled off Sharon's lap and fairly ran from the room, avoiding eye contact with me. I could hear her sniffling in the bathroom. "You clean up too," Sharon instructed. "I'll start breakfast." That brought my attention to the diaper hanging low on my hips. I wasn't making as much progress as I had thought. I passed Kathy in the bathroom door. She still wouldn't look at me. She must have worked fast, because by the time I was clean and fresh, the bed was stripped, and she was nowhere in sight. I got dressed and found her in the kitchen helping with breakfast. She gave me a sheepish "good morning." I hugged her and gave her a kiss that was far more than perfunctory. That seemed to brighten her spirits. We all sat down to breakfast as if nothing had happened. I really wanted to know more about what I saw this morning but figured that wasn't the time to ask. It would keep and was probably none of my business anyway. We tidied up the dishes slowly, none of us wishing the visit to end. It was with no small amount of sadness that Kathy and I packed our things and said our goodbyes. We all promised to not wait so long till the next time, and for a change, I meant it. Despite the diapers and the embarrassment that went with them, I had a really good time. We drove in silence for quite some time. I was lost in my thoughts. There was a lot that happened that week and a lot to think about. Mostly though, I thought about what I had witnessed that morning. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Kathy? Remember what you said about elephants in the room?" "Yes," she sighed. "What happened this morning?" It took her a long time to answer. She tried to get me to drop it, but I kept bringing it back up. "You're not going to let this go, are you? Alright, fine." You know Sharon was my sorority sister, right? Well, she was actually my big sister, a sophomore assigned to show a pledge the ropes and generally look after her. One of the things she did for me was to introduce me around. She was really popular and got invited to a lot of parties, and because she did, I did. It was at one of those parties that I got introduced to alcohol. I never drank in high school, and I avoided it the first couple of parties I went to. But it had been a rough week, and I gave in when somebody stuck a cup in my hand. At first, I didn't realize there was alcohol in it. It just seemed like a really sweet punch with a funny aftertaste. I was well into my second one before I knew I was getting buzzed. It felt good. I wanted more. I kept drinking. About the time, I felt like I might have had too much, Sharon found me. She told me it was time to go back to the house. I don't think I would have made it without her. I'm sure I threw up at least once on the way. I don't really remember getting back to the house and her dumping me on the bed. I do remember waking up the next morning. Sharon was shaking my leg, telling me to get up. I never knew sunlight could be so painful. It tasted like something died in my mouth, and somebody was beating my head with a hammer. I begged Sharon to let me die in peace. Instead, she pulled off my blankets. I was suddenly very cold. "Oh, geez. Get up. We need to get this stuff in the wash." "Huh?" "Get up. You peed the bed." "What?" "You peed the bed. Get up." "Oh my god. No!" I started bawling. "Oh, come on. It's not that big a deal. Half the girls here did the same thing the first time they got drunk." "You?" "Me? No." "Great," I said dejectedly. "Listen, get yourself cleaned up, take some aspirin, have some coffee and toast, and then we can talk about it. Okay?" "Okay." The shower made me feel a little better. I hadn't really learned to drink coffee yet, but the toast helped some. I found Sharon back in my room. She had stripped the bed for me and turned my fan toward the mattress. I had found the rubberized fabric of the mattress strange when I first moved in. Now, I understood why the sorority used them. It was somewhat comforting to know I wasn't the only one, but I still felt ashamed. Sharon hugged me and told me not to worry about it. I was the first, and I wouldn't be the last. It happens to everyone. "It didn't happen to you." "Okay, maybe not everyone, but I've had my share of nights worshipping the porcelain god." The image of Sharon with her head in the toilet did make me chuckle and a little less embarrassed. "I swear, I'm never going to drink again." "Don't make promises you can't keep. You just have to learn to pace yourself. You have to watch those fruity drinks. They go down really easy, and before you know it, you've already had too many. You don't have to stop drinking, if you don't want to. Just be careful." "Alright." I took my wet things down to the laundry room. I couldn't avoid passing some of the other girls. Most gave me sympathetic smiles, a kind of been there done that look. I was careful at the next few parties I went to. I did drink some, but I went slow and never let it get beyond a mild buzz. That ended after midterms. I felt so relieved to have made it over that hurdle, I let myself go. Sharon took me aside and told me I should ease up. I told her I was fine and bumped into a wall. She told me to remember what happened the last time. I waved her off. It was a good thing the party was at the sorority house, or I never would have made it home. As it was, Sharon found me the next morning on the floor of the bathroom. There was vomit in my hair and around the toilet bowl, and I was lying in a puddle of pee. Sharon got me on my feet and into the shower. She didn't bother with my clothes. That first burst of water was a real shock, and I thought my head would explode, and really hope that it would. As the water warmed, I started to feel human again. I got undressed and washed the assorted fluids of me. Sharon was waiting for with a towel. "Thank you," I said, drying off. "I feel awful. Never again." "You said that before. You should feel awful. You were really pounding them last night. You deserve that hangover. But listen, drinking like that isn't good for you; in fact, it's dangerous. Even if the alcohol doesn't kill you, you can do all kinds of crazy things to get hurt or let someone hurt you. And it sure isn't any fun for me, having to clean up after you." "I know. I'm sorry." "Yeah, yeah, save it. You're sorry, because you head hurts. But if you did anything to hurt the house while you were like that, it would be my ass on the line too. I'm responsible for you." "I didn't know. I'm sorry." "Well, just think about it. And think about what would happen if you got in real trouble. What if you got called in front of the dean?" I paled. "Oh my god. My mom would have my butt. I would be able to sit down for a month." "Your mom still spanks you." "Well, she did last year, when I came home an hour after curfew. She might." "Maybe that's what you deserve." Her face was passive. I couldn't tell if she meant it. "You're kidding right?" "Get drunk like that again, and we'll see." I was really good for the rest of the semester. I didn't let myself get more than a little tipsy. I did my work. My grades were good. I felt really good about myself. I had long forgotten that conversation in the shower. The end of term was my undoing. The night after finals, everyone was celebrating, including me. We had a grand old time. I again woke up with a horrible hangout and a wet bed. I was balling up the sheets when Sharon came to check on me. "You did it again, didn't you? I told you to slow down, didn't I? But do you listen? No. 'I'm fine, Sharon.' 'Go away, Sharon.' 'Mind your own business, Sharon.' And look at you now, wet sheets and pissy pants. Remember what I said after midterms?" "What? What are you talking about?" "I told you what would happen, if you go this drunk again." I tried to remember, but the pounding in my head made it hard. "I told you deserved spanking then, and you'd get one the next time. This is the next time." "You can't be serious." "Oh, I'm very serious." Sharon grabbed my wrist, sat down on the bed and hauled me across her lap. A softball player, she was really strong, far stronger than me. I didn't stand a chance. "Sharon, no!" I screamed, as she whisked my panties down. She didn't say a word as she lit up my ass. I screamed and squirmed and begged, but she didn't let up until I was limp and bawling. She stood me up and held me while I cried myself out. I told her I was sorry, and I really meant it. "It's okay. It's all over now. Just don't let it happen again, or you'll get more of the same." She tilted my head up and looked into my eyes. "I love you, Kathy. I want you to be safe." She kissed me, not a kiss, kiss, but more than a peck. Then she left me to take care of my laundry and pack for the holidays. It was a long, thoughtful, and uncomfortable bus ride home. "Wow," was all I could think of. After digesting it for a bit, I could help asking, "Did it ever happen again?" "The idea turns you on, doesn't it? Pervert," she chuckled. "If you must know, it did, but I'm not going into gory details." "What about that kiss? Was there more than that?" Kathy blushed and remained silent. I waited. "Okay, yes, we … experimented, nothing serious. I decided I preferred men … mostly." I filed that away. "What about Sharon?" "She's more of an omnivore," Kathy said smiling. "But that's all you're getting. Have you thought about what we talked about? Your job?" "Some. I haven't made any decisions." "Okay." The rest of the trip was idle chitchat and discussion of things we should do before the weekend was out. Although I had two more wet nights, I returned to work on Monday feeling better … for about ten minutes. That's how long it took for my boss to start in on me. He actually had the gall to berate me for taking the week off, time I had earned. That was the last straw. I spent my lunch hour writing up a formal complaint and delivering it to Human Resources. I told them, if they didn't do something about him, they could have my notice, and if they didn't want that, I'd take the sick and vacation pay I had coming, and they could have their job. The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of meetings and discussions about me and my boss. Some of them got pretty heated. A review of my work showed that I was doing my job and doing it well. In the end, though, I was low man on the totem pole, and it was decided we would all be better off, if I applied my skills elsewhere. I was given a letter of recommendation and promised my back pay would be mailed at the next payroll date. For someone who, for all practical purposes, just got canned, I felt great when I cleaned out my desk. Kathy got concerned when she came home and saw the box with my possessions by the door. "What happened?" "I got fired," I said brightly. "Well, 'mutual separation' is what they wrote down in the file." I gave her a blow by blow description of what happened that day with full color commentary. I may have embellished my part a little. "Dave, I'm so proud of you. You did the right thing. I just wish that son of a bitch got what was coming to him." "Not my problem anymore. His file is flagged. He'll get his someday. In the meantime, and for the foreseeable future, you have yourself a little housemaid." "Don't give me ideas. You might look good in a French maid's uniform. I'm just glad you are out of there. Let's go. I'm taking you out to dinner." "Shouldn't we be watching our pennies? I am out of a job now." "We will, but tonight, we celebrate. This is a new beginning." And we did, a great meal, some nice wine, and it didn't end there. We practically ran up to the bedroom, clothes flying as we went. It was the most passionate we had been in quite a while. Afterward, Kathy got me diapered and curled up next to me. "So, what are you going to do with yourself, now that you have all this time on your hands?" "I don't know. I have really had a chance to think about it." "You should, you know. Idle hands and all that." "I'm sure I'll think of something." "I hope so. Little boys left on their own can get into all sorts of mischief." She was rubbing the front of my diaper. "I'll be fine." "I hope so. We wouldn't want Mommy to have to spank, would we?" I chuckled. "Would we?" The question wasn't rhetorical. "No." "No, what?" "No … Mommy?" "That's right," she said, rubbing me harder. "You need to be a good boy for Mommy, or Mommy will spank." I moaned, getting my second wind. "Maybe I should get a babysitter to keep you out of trouble. Maybe Auntie Sharon would be available. She could make sure you're a good boy and change you when you are wet. I know you like that. But Auntie Sharon spanks hard; so, you'd better be good." That was it. The diaper came off for round two. I was barely awake when Kathy re-diapered me and kissed me goodnight. The first week as a stay at home husband was great. I cooked, which I enjoyed but nave had time for. I did some minor repairs that I had been putting off for a while. I cleaned the house and did the grocery shopping. I didn't enjoy those so much, but they had to be done and weren't as bad as I imagined. Most of all, Kathy was really happy with me and lavished me with praise. The second week was not as good. It was harder to find things to do. Kathy noticed and brought my attention to some things that needed taking care of. By the third week, I was really starting to get bored. Kathy and I were doing some gardening that weekend, when Mrs. Travers, our neighbor across the street came over, a sweet older lady. I never talked to her much, but she and Kathy were friends. She took Kathy aside, but couldn't help overhearing their conversation. "I noticed David's been home a lot lately. Is everything alright." "Oh, yes. He's taking some time off, maybe thinking of a second career." "I was just concerned, the economy being the way it is and everything." "No need to worry. We're fine." "Well, if there is anything you need …" "Same here. I'm sure Dave would be happy to help you out, if you need anything." "Well, there are a few odd jobs I need done. I'd pay him, of course." "Nonsense. What are neighbors for? Dave, come here a minute. Mrs. "Oh, that's all right." "Dave, Travers needs your help. You'll do that, won't you?" "Sure." "What is it you need, Mavis?" "Well, I have a leaky faucet, and the gutters need tending." "No trouble at all Mrs. Travers," I said. "Is tomorrow okay?" "That would be fine, dear, if it's not too much trouble." "No trouble at all. Ten o'clock?" "That sounds fine. Thank you so much." "It's settled then," Kathy said sealing the deal. "He'll be over at ten sharp. You remember to be a good boy for Mrs. Travers, Dave." Mrs. Travers thanked us again but gave us awkward look as she went back to her house. "You didn't need to say that." "I was just having some fun. Can't you take a joke?" I kissed Kathy goodbye the next morning, and she reminded me to be a good boy and be at Mrs. Travers' house at ten. I was there right on time, toolbox and ladder in hand. I decided to start with the gutters, before the day got too hot. They were worse than I imagined, and it took till past noon to get them cleared out. Mrs. Travers insisted on feeding my lunch. The leaky faucet turned out to be a nightmare. It was an old fixture in the guest bath. I don't think anyone had worked on it since before I was born. There was a slow but steady drip that, judging by the calcium deposits on the fixture, had been going on for a long time. It was a chore just turning the shutoff valve and getting the handle off the valve, but when I tried to take out the stem to change the washer, the whole thing snapped. I informed Mrs. Travers and told her I would buy her new hardware. After a bit of an argument, I accepted that she would pay, I insisted on doing the installation. We went to the hardware store together, so she could pick out what she wanted. On the ride she told me all about her children and grandchildren, including the fact that the middle one was still wetting the bed. I set to work on updating the sink. I soon wished that I hadn't offered my assistance. Every nut was frozen. Nothing was easy to reach. The room was so tiny, I couldn't even lie down comfortably to work. As is so often the case with plumbing, I was swearing at it under my breath. Then the wrench slipped. I hit my hand hard against a pipe. I sat up to grab it and bashed my head on the sink. I was loudly cursing a blue streak when Mrs. Travers came to check on me. I was seeing stars and didn't resist when she helped me up. She led me to the kitchen and fixed an icepack for my head. She tended to my wounded hand, applying a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid. "Sorry, dear, that's all I have. I keep them for the grandkids." The room was still spinning when Kathy came over to check on me. I had no idea it had gotten so late. She gasped when she saw me. "It's just a bump on the head, dear, but I think you'd better take him home. He's had a rough day. I'll just call a plumber to finish." "No. I can do it myself." "David, be quiet. Mavis, I'm sorry he was so much trouble for you." "Oh, no trouble. I've tended to more than one skinned knee and bruised ego. But such language!" "David, apologize to Mrs. Travers, right now." "Sorry." "I'm sorry, Mavis. It won't happen again. But please, don't waste your money on a plumber. David will come back tomorrow and finish the job." She turned to me. "And he will watch his language, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." I meant that for Mrs. Travers, but I don't think either of them took it that way. "Good. I'm sorry. He is usually much better behaved. Please let him come back." "Alright," she said reluctantly. "If it means that much to him. But it's no trouble to get a plumber." "I won't hear of it. David will be back first thing in the morning to finish what he started, and he'll be on his best behavior. If he's not, please tell me. Now, I'd better get him home and put him to bed." I handed back the icepack and stood to leave. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Travers, and thank you for lunch." "It's alright, dear. Get some rest, and you'll feel better in the morning." Kathy took care of the goodbyes, and Mrs. Travers walked us to the door. I hoped when wasn't watching as Kathy gave me an earful crossing the street and landed a couple of hard swats on the seat of my pants. She took me straight upstairs. She got a diaper out and set it on the bed. She got her hairbrush and put it on top. She started undressing me and gave me a real dressing down. "I'm ashamed of you, talking that way in front of a sweet old lady. What were you thinking?" "I'm sorry. I hit my head and it really hurt." "That's no excuse. You should know better. I have a good mind to wash your mouth out with soap." "You can't do that!" "Try me. If I ever hear something like that again, that's just what I'll do. As for right now, you're getting a good spanking to help you remember." "What? You can't." "You know very well I can. And unless you want me to use your belt on you, you'll get across my lap right now." I remembered the bite of the belt and chose to follow her instructions. She didn't start easy, and she accompanied her task with nonstop scolding. But that was nothing compared to when she started in with the brush. I wouldn't have been surprised if Mrs. Travers hurt my cries from across the street. When I was bawling, Kathy told me to get up and marched me to the corner. "You stay there and think about what you did." I kept my face wedged in the corner, not wanting to incur any more of her wrath. I could hear her milling about the room, muttering. Then there was silence. "David, why is your underwear wet?" "What!" "You heard me. Why is your underwear wet?" "What? I didn't." She turned me around and held them where I could see. They were clearly damp. "Did you or did you not wet your pants?" "I don't know." "Of course, you know! Look at these!" "I guess, maybe a little. I don't remember. Maybe when I hit my head?" "That's no excuse. You can't go around wetting your pants during the day. It's bad enough you do that at night." "You said you didn't mind." "You know what I mean. But daytime accidents are a different story. Do you need to be in diapers all the time? Do need to hire a babysitter? Maybe Mrs. Travers would like the job." "I'm sorry," I cried. "It won't happen again." "It had better not, or I'll have to rethink leaving you home alone. Lie down. You're going to bed right now." "I have to go to the bathroom." "Then go. At least, you remember some of your potty training." I lay in bed thinking about what Kathy said. She wouldn't make me wear diapers in the daytime. It was just that I hit my head. But she did it before. That didn't work out well. Seriously, she couldn't really get a babysitter. I didn't know what to think. Between conking myself and what followed, I was exhausted and didn't last long. I had strange and fitful dreams. I was soaked the next morning. Kathy was laying out clothes when I came back from the shower. "Put these on." She handed me something I didn't recognize. "What are these?" "Training pants." I turned the puffy object over in my hands. "I'm not wearing those." "Yes, you are, unless you'd prefer to wear a diaper. Of course, you'll have to bring a spare, incase Mrs. Travers needs to change you." "You wouldn't." "Would you like to discuss it with Mr. Hairbrush?" "No." "Then get dressed. You have work to do." The disposable underwear wasn't as thick or noisy as a diaper, but I still felt very conspicuous. I was feeling very contrite when Kathy rang Mrs. Travers' doorbell. "Good morning, Mavis. I brought David over to finish his work. He's going to be on his best behavior today and not give you any more trouble. If he does, I'd appreciate it if you told me. And if he needs it, you have my permission to spank him." "I'm sure that won't be necessary, dear," she said with a nervous laugh, no doubt hoping that was a joke. I knew it was and blushed hotly. "Be a good boy, David. I'll see you tonight. And no swearing." It took me all day and another trip to the hardware store for new shutoff valves, but I finally got the sink done. I even managed to keep from swearing out loud. I did end up quietly crying at one point from holding it in. When it was all done, I was quite proud of myself, and Mrs. Travers was pleased. I was finishing the snack she made me, when Kathy came to take me home. "How was he today, Mavis?" "Good as gold, dear. Good as gold. I don't know what you said to him, but it did the trick. And such a good job he did. The new faucets are just beautiful." "I'm so glad to hear that. David, say thank you to Mrs. Travers." "Thank you," I mumbled, my mouth filled with cookie. "David, don't talk with your mouth full." "It's alright, dear. He deserves his reward. If I could borrow him again, I might have some other jobs for him to do?" "Anytime, Mavis. Anytime. I'm happy to have him here where somebody can keep an eye on him. But now I think it's time I get him home and fed, unless he's spoiled his appetite with your cookies." "I only had two," I complained. I saw Mrs. Travers hold up three fingers. "Well, we'll see if we can get some real food in him anyway. David, finish your milk; it's time to go." I downed the half full glass and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. I thanked Mrs. Travers for the cookies, and we headed home. Kathy told me she was proud of me for being a good boy. That made me feel good. But, she warned me, she expected no more bad behavior reports. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. Then she stuck her hands down the front of my pants. "Just checking. Seems a little damp down there. Drop 'em." "I didn't. I swear." "You'd better now swear. Now, let's see those training pants." She unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants to my feet. She pulled the disposable underwear—I preferred the euphemism—inside out and down where she could get a good look. "Hmm. Definitely a little damp, but maybe it's just sweat. You could do a better job wiping though." She pulled them back up and went to make dinner. I was left standing with my pants at my ankles, wondering what just happened. The evening was business as usual. At bedtime, she said her little boy deserved a reward for being so good all day. I got it too, and how. Kathy had another pair of training pants out the next day. "Why do I have to wear these? I stayed dry yesterday." "I think you know why." "No, why?" "Because Mommy says so." She wrapped her arms around me and gave my bottom a squeeze. "And little boys who do what Mommy says get rewarded." She gave me a smack. "And you know what happens to little boys who don't." I quickly put on the paper pants. "Good boy. Get dressed. Mommy has to go to work." I tidied up around the house and puttered in the garden a little. I couldn't help but think about the night before and what Kathy implied that morning. I went to the store and bought a roast, hoping a nice dinner would earn me another of her rewards. With dinner in the oven, I was at a loss for what to do. I sat down to watch some TV and was soon asleep, dreaming of "Mommy." "Oh, David!" I sat straight up. "Get up, quick." I stood up, and that's when I felt it. The training pants were leaking. "Go change. I'll take care of this." I could hear the disappointment and frustration in her voice. I came back to find her laying towel over the cushion. I told her I was sorry. "It wasn't too bad. I think I got it in time. Let's just eat. It smells wonderful." It was good, if I do say so myself. Kathy's praise for it was effusive. Then she turned serious. "David, what we going to do? I know you can't help your bedwetting, and that's alright. It really is, and we're dealing with it. But what are going to do about this wetting in the daytime? It's obvious the training pants aren't up to the job." "I'm sorry. I wasn't even planning on going to sleep." "That's my point. If you're going to drop off like that, you could end up ruining the furniture." "I'll just stay awake. That's all." "You didn't today." "But now I know I have to." "David, I don't want to deprive you of your sleep. If you need a nap, you should be able to take one." "I could put a diaper on myself," I suggested. "Yes, I do think we need to teach you to do that. But that's only going to help if you know you are going to sleep. What about days like today, when you just drop off?" "I don't know." "I think there's only solution that's really practical." I didn't like the sound of that. "You're just going to have to have a nap every day. That way, you won't just be nodding off unprotected." "But I don't need a nap every day." "I'm sorry, but I don't see any way around it. Unless you prefer I get a sitter who can make sure you stay awake of gets you diapered?" "No, I don't want that." "Then you'll just have to start taking naps. Do the dishes, and we'll see if we can teach you how to put on a diaper by yourself. And use the potty. We don't need any accidents in the middle of the lesson." That was it; the discussion was closed. I met her upstairs when the dishes were done. She had several diapers stacked up on the bed. "Why so many?" "It might take you a few tries to get it on right, and the tapes on these don't take repositioning well. If you mess up, we'll have to start from scratch. Here, let me help you get undressed." She kissed me while she unbuttoned my shirt. I thought we'd get to the instructions part later, and it showed. No such luck. "Okay. The first thing is to unfold the diaper and lay it out like this." "I could have guessed that." "Don't get smart; just listen. Now you lie down on top. You know how to do that already. Well, go on; I can't very well teach you this while you're standing up. Good. Now, lift your bottom and take the bottom two tapes. That's it. Now, move the diaper so the tapes are at the bend in your hips. No, a little higher. Let me feel. That's it. Good boy. Put your bottom down. Now, pull the front up and put the tapes on, snug as you can without stretching anything. Don't let the diaper move, or you'll have to start again. No, no, don't pull the front over so far; keep it centered. That's it. Good job. Now, tuck in all of the side flaps. That's right; we don't want those sticking out. Now, we do the top tapes, nice and snug. Very good! Stand up and let me check you. My goodness, you did so good, and on your first try! We'll just tuck these parts under to make sure nothing gets out. There, all ready for bed." I don't what the all the fuss was about. It's not like it was brain surgery. Still, she managed to make me feel proud of myself. I reached to undo the tapes. "What are you doing?" she asked. "I'm taking it off." "Why? It's on there so nice." "It's early, and I'm not sleepy." "Well, there's no sense in wasting it. If you take it off, we'll just have to throw it away. Just leave it on. Mommy will make it worthwhile," she teased. "Really?" I said hopefully. "Uh huh," she said, unbuttoning her blouse. "Okay." She knew what I liked. She didn't often let me spend much time with her titties, but that night, she let me suck and play with them to my heart's content. Meanwhile, she pleasured herself. "Oh, baby!" she cried out after her third orgasm. "You make Mommy feel so good." She brought my face to hers and kissed me deeply. I was looking forward to the main event. "We'll have to let you nurse more often. That was fantastic. Are you ready to go night-night, or do you want to watch some television?" "Aren't we going to … you know?" "Baby, what did I say about wasting diapers? That's not coming off until morning, unless you need a change before. So, what's if going to be, bed or TV?" I would have wet myself if I could have, but the state she had me in prevented it. "TV, I guess," I said with a pout. "Aw, don't be that way. If you're a good boy, maybe Mommy will let you nurse some more before bed." That cheered me a little. We put on our nightclothes and went downstairs. Even though Kathy picked out a movie that would appeal more to me than to her, I was still a bit sullen. Kathy noticed. "What's the matter, sweetie? Do you still want Mommy's titty? Come here, baby." She had me lie down with my shoulders in her lap. She supported my head with her arm, braced by the arm of the sofa. She pushed her nightgown out of the way. "Be gentle. Mommy's still tender from before." It wasn't what I really wanted, but it was still nice. I had seen the movie several times before. I could see it in my head just from the dialogue. Kathy was idly rubbing my chest and belly. It was very relaxing. I felt a twinge in my bladder and figure, what the heck; it wasn't like she was going to let me go to the bathroom anyway. It took some effort, but I did manage to overcome my resistance and let the liquid flow. Kathy must have noticed a change in me. She stuck her had inside my pajama pants and squeezed my diaper. "Good boy," she murmured, and she continued to rub down there. I was actually getting turned on. I was starting to squirm, trying to get a little more pressure on the front to the diaper. My suckling became more passionate, and I reached up to play with the other breast. I felt a slap on my padded behind. "Mommy said 'gentle.' If you can't be nice, I'm going to put you to bed." That brought about a definite pout from me. "Don't be like that; you were told. Let's get you turned around and you can have the other side for a while, but be nice." "Okay," I sighed." "What was that?" Yes … Mommy." "That's better. You just nurse nicely while we finish the movie. Then Mommy will get you tucked in." I was more on my side this time, and Kathy rubbed my back and bottom. I think I must have drifted off, because Kathy was telling me it was time for bed. I got my bearings and sat up. I didn't think I had been that wet when we switched breasts. Kathy took my hand and led me upstairs. She took off my pajama pants and said she was right; I would need a change before bed. She laid me down and untaped the used but not soggy garment. I asked to use the bathroom. "Really? I wouldn't think you had any more in you right now." "For … the other." "Oh, yes, of course. Go make poopies, and then we'll get you set for night-night." She patted my naked bottom as I went. She didn't really have to put it that way, I thought. I wasn't gone long, but she had a new diaper laid out, as well as some powder. "What's that for?" I asked, pointing at the powder. "It will make you more comfortable, and it will make you smell nice." "It'll make me smell like a baby." "Exactly, is there anything that smells better than a freshly changed baby? Besides, at the moment, you are acting like one. You may as well smell the part." "You know I can't help it. It's the stress. And those pills make me so sleepy, I don't know …" "That's not what I meant. You've been cranky and moody all night. Lie down, so Mommy can get your dipee on." I lay down, but not without telling her I didn't appreciate the baby talk. "You liked it well enough when we were playing here a while ago." She took a wet wipe and ran it up my butt crack. "And if this is the kind of job you do wiping yourself, maybe you one. Does Mommy have to help you when you make a stinky in the potty?" "Kathy!" I complained. "Okay, okay, I'm kidding … for now, but make sure you do a better job in the future. If I'm going to have to clean your poopy bottom anyway, I may as well keep you in diapers full time." I gasped. "Relax. I didn't say I was going to do it. I just haven't ruled out the possibility," she said with a grin that was either playful or threatening. I couldn't tell which. She powdered nicely, but I was disappointed that she stopped when I started to stir. She finished the rest of the process efficiently and soon had me tucked in. She got in beside me and had me face her. "Unless we run into some problems, here are the rules from now on. I want you to lie down every afternoon around one o'clock. A little bit earlier, a little bit later, doesn't matter, as long as it's not past two. Whatever you might be planning that would take longer than that can wait until after you rest. I want you in a diaper when you lie down. You showed me you can do it yourself, and I feel better knowing you are protected. If you wet while you are napping, go ahead and put your pull-ups back on. If you don't, I want you to keep the diaper on until you use it; that way it's not wasted, and I know you aren't cheating. If you don't sleep at naptime, I want you in a diaper until I get home. I can't have you falling asleep without one on. If you have to change once or twice before I get back, that's okay, but no wasting. If I find you aren't taking your naps or you are running around without a diaper when you should have one on, Mommy will spank, understand?" I nodded, wide eyed. For some reason, I was getting aroused. "Say, 'yes, Mommy.'" "Yes, Mommy." "Good boy. And remember, good boys who do what Mommy says get rewards." She kissed me. "Night-night, baby." "Night-night, Mommy," I yawned. I started to plan out my day for tomorrow, but I was off to dreamland. I had finished mowing the lawn, and working on pulling some weeds, when I heard a car pull into the driveway. I wasn't pulling weeds anymore. I was pushing trucks around a sandbox. "Mommy!" I yelled. "There's my little man," Kathy beamed. But her face turned cold. "Davey, just look at you." I looked down. My hands were filthy, and there was sad stuck to the wet front of my little shorts. I looked up surprised. "David, did you take your nap today?" "I wasn't sleepy." "Where's your diaper?" "I forgot," I said sheepishly. "You forgot? What was the last thing I said to you before I left?" "Um …" "I said I wanted you to go down for a nap at one o'clock and to make sure you put your diaper on." "I didn't know it was so late." "Is that so? Did you not know you need to go potty either? "I …" "Davey, I'm very disappointed in you. Get in the house this instant." I ran in the house and was almost through the kitchen. "Stop right there, mister. Take off those filthy clothes. You're not going track sand all through the house." I didn't want to. Getting undressed in the kitchen meant I would have to walk right past the picture window to get upstairs. "But …" "No buts," she said, striding over and pulling my shirt right over my head. She made quick work of my sandals and shorts and left me standing in a drooping pull-up. She shook her head and started pulling it down. She gasped when she saw a small, firm poop inside. She got it off me and balled it up "David, you naughty, naughty boy. Get upstairs right now. You need a bath." She turned me around and planted a stinging slap on my damp bottom. I ran up the stairs, no longer caring if I was seen. Kathy was not far behind. "Sit on the potty and try to go poopy." She started the bath and added some sweet-smelling bubbles. "Honestly, I thought you were a big boy. I thought I could trust you. Did you go?" I shook my head. I was getting teary, because she was mad at me. "Get in the tub. This discussion isn't over, but you're just too filthy to deal with at the moment." I jumped in the tub, hoping compliance would earn me a few points. She scrubbed me from head to toe. "I have no idea how one little boy can get so dirty? How did you get sand in there?" I didn't know either, and I felt bad I was making work for her. She was hardly gentle, and I was glad when she finished. She dried me just as roughly, then ordered me into the bedroom. "What have you got to say for yourself?" she demanded. "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry is not an excuse. Did you deliberately disobey me, or are you too much of a baby to leave on your own? I think I'm going to have to have Mrs. Travers come over and watch you during the day." "I don't need a babysitter," I whined. "I'm a big boy." "Then you are a naughty, disobedient boy, and I know just how to deal with that," she said, snatching up her hairbrush and hauling down across her lap. "I told you what would happen, if you didn't listen to Mommy. You have no one to blame but yourself." "Mommy, no!" My bottom was quickly ablaze. I was screaming out apologies and promising to be good. I was bawling my eyes out and shaking. No, I wasn't shaking. I was being shaken. "David, David, Wake up." I shouted something incoherent. I looked around. It was dark. I saw Kathy. I threw my arms around her. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry! I won't wet my pants again. I'll take my nap. I'll wear my diapers. Don't spank me. I'm sorry!" I sobbed and sobbed. Mommy … Kathy held and shushed me. "There, there, baby, it's all over now. It was just a bad dream. Mommy loves you. You're Mommy's good boy; yes, you are. Let's get you changed, so we can go back to sleep." I was soaked, but Kathy took care of it like it was nothing. She made such short work of it; I didn't even become fully conscious. I just followed her instructions, lifting up when she asked, and I was soon dry and nuzzling her. "No, baby. Mommy's sore. Try to go back to sleep. Mommy will see about buying you a baba and a binky tomorrow." That thought didn't register enough to consciously think about it, but it did sink in enough that I dreamt of nursing from a giant bottle. My thumb was wrinkled when I woke up. The night must have been harder on me than I realized. I had no trouble putting on a diaper and taking a nap the next day or the day after. Kathy made me show her the used diapers when she saw I was wearing pull-ups. She praised me for being a good boy. The day after that, try as I might, I just couldn't fall asleep. I went ahead and wet the diaper, so I could show Kathy I hadn't wasted it, but then I put on a pull-up and went about the rest of my afternoon. We sat down to watch TV after dinner. I was nodding off before the first commercial. "David?" "Hmm?" I asked groggily. "David, did you have a nap today?" "Mm-mm," I acknowledged. "Is that a no?" I nodded. "Then where's your diaper?" "Used it." "I know that, but why don't you have one on now?" "Don' need one." "That's not the rule, and you know it. Get up. You're going to bed right now." "Wanna stay up with you." "Nothing doing. You get upstairs right now, unless you want to go to bed with a sore bottom." That woke me up. "But it's early," I whined. "David, I'm warning you or the last time." "Okay, I'm going," I huffed and all but stomped out of the room. "And use the potty. I'll be up in a minute to put your diaper on." I did as I was told; I did have to go. Kathy came in and laid out a diaper while I was getting undressed. Before I knew it, she had me squared away and tucked in. Seemingly out of nowhere, she stuck bottle in my mouth. "Leave that there. I bought it as a joke, but maybe it's appropriate after all. You know the rules, David. It was very naughty of you to break them. I feel like you lied to me. I'm very disappointed in you." That stirred up memories of my nightmare. "We will talk about this in the morning. In the meantime, dink your baba and go to sleep. I expect it to be empty when I come to bed. I'm very upset with you right now." I was upset too, as much with myself as being made to drink from a baby's bottle. Still, I was tired and didn't last long. I woke up briefly to find the bottle being replaced in my mouth and held there. The next this I remember was Kathy's waking me to get changed and "have a talk." I came back from the bathroom to time a diaper waiting on the bed. Kathy was sitting next to it, hairbrush in hand. I immediately protested. "I get it. I'm sorry. If I don't take a nap, I'll wear a diaper till you say so. You don't have to do this." "You'll get it alright. And I do have to do this, because it seems the only time you listen to me is when you're face down over my lap. Get over here now." I reluctantly went and climbed into position. She did waste any time in starting to warm my seat "You deliberately disobeyed my, and then you pretended like you took a nap. You thought you were real smart, didn't you? Thought you could fool me into thinking you took a nap, didn't you? What do you think would have happened if you fell asleep before I got home? I'll tell you what would have happened; you would have wet your pants and made a royal mess, that's what. You are a naughty, naughty, little boy. Lying to Mommy, Mommy is so angry with you. Are you going to make me have to hire a sitter for you? Is that what I have to do, because Mommy's little boy can't be trusted?" "No! Please, don't! I'll be good. I promise!" She stopped spanking. "Alright, fine, I'll give you one more chance. Get up, and let's get your diaper on. You are in diapers all day, and I do mean all day. I'm going to call you from time to time, and you had better be wearing your diaper, because you are going to send me a picture to prove it, and if you aren't wearing one, or it takes longer than I think it should for you to send it, you won't sit down for a week, and I will find you that sitter. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes." "Excuse me?" "Yes, Mommy. Yes." "Good. Now, get your nose in that corner." She left for a few minutes. "I set up your computer with the webcam on, and I set an alarm. Don't you dare move until the alarm goes off. I may not be able to watch you all the time, but you won't know when I do. So, you'd better be on your best behavior and do exactly as Mommy says, understood?" "Yes, Mommy," I said dejectedly. "I do love you, baby, but you have to be a good boy and do what Mommy says, okay?" "Okay." "That's my good boy." She kissed and hugged me. "Okay, nose back in the corner, and don't move till the alarm goes off. Remember, Mommy's watching." She turned me around and patted my behind. I was left with my thoughts. I hoped not for too long. That hope didn't last. With no frame of reference but my own world, which was defined by the two walls I got to stare at, the seconds ticked slowly. I got to dwell on why I was standing there. Because Mommy, I mean Kathy, was mean. No, she wasn't; I did this to myself. Why couldn't I have handled things better? I could have stood up to my boss. I could have gone to HR sooner. I could have quit. Why didn't I? Because I was afraid. What good would that have done? I'd have just been out of a job sooner. Why did I have to start that again? And why wasn't it stopping. I got rid of the stress. I quit. But I still couldn't keep dry. It's no wonder Kathy treated me like a baby. Why did she do that? Why won't she, when I was in diapers every night. Some Man. But it was kind of nice. It felt good to be snuggled. It felt really good to be suckled. She was actually being really nice … when she wasn't spanking me. Why did she have to do that? And why didn't I stop her? What was I supposed to do, hit her back? I couldn't do that. And it's not like I didn't bring them on myself. I didn't listen. Why should I have to listen? I'm a grown man. But I was acting like a little boy. A little boy who can't keep his pants dry. And so, it went on until the alarm chimed. Less than a minute later, Kathy called. "You stayed in the corner the whole time. Good boy. I knew you could listen when you wanted to. The webcam is still on. Show me your diaper." I positioned myself and the camera so she could look. "Still dry. Good. I have to get back to work now. I'll call and check on you a little later. Be a good boy for Mommy, and get your chores done. I'll talk to you before naptime. I love you, sweetie. Bye-bye." She hung up before could get a word in. There was nothing for it but to get on with my day. I wasn't very hungry, but coffee was welcome. I puttered around, taking care of what I had to, making the bed, doing the laundry and dishes. I wet myself a little; there didn't seem any point in holding it. Kathy called around eleven. "Hi, baby. How's your day going? Are you being a good boy?" "Yes, Mommy. I'm almost done with my chores." "That's my good baby. Speaking of which. Send me a picture of your diaper." I snapped a pic and sent it to her. "Just a little wet. You'll be fine till nap time. Mommy needs to get back to work. I want you to find some more things to do around the house. You're still on punishment; so, no TV or computer till Mommy says so. But make sure the webcam is facing the bed. I may want to check in on you during your nap. Be a good boy. I love you, baby. I'll talk to you later." Now facing a day of boredom, I looked for things to do. I vacuumed the carpets and washed the floors. That kept me busy until lunchtime. I had a sandwich and a soda. By that time, I was looking forward to a change. When the phone rang, I thought it was Kathy. "Hi, Mom …" "David, it's Mrs. Travers across the street. Could you come help me, please?" "I'd be happy to Mrs. Travers, but right now isn't a very good time. May later this afternoon?" It was getting close to one o'clock, and Kathy was going to want me in bed. "I'm sorry, David. It really can't wait. The toilet is backing up, and I can't stop it. Please help." She sounded desperate. I was torn over what to do. "David, are you there?" "Yes," I said stupidly, coming out of my head. "Yes, Mrs. Travers. Let me just grab some tools, and I'll be right over." "Thank you, David. You're a lifesaver." The first order of business was to call Kathy. I needed to tell her what was going on. Her cell went straight to voicemail. I didn't want to just leave a message; so, I called her office. "Ms. Henderson's office. May I help you?" "Ho, Mandy. It's David." "Oh, hi, David. I hear you're taking some time off. That must be so great. I wish I could do that." "Mandy," I broke in. "I need to speak to Kathy. Could you put me through please?" "I'm sorry I can't. She's in a meeting, and she said no interruptions, unless it's life and death. It's not, is it?" "No … um … just have her call me, will you?" "Sure thing. Is everything alright?" "Um … fine. You have her call. Thanks." I put on my baggiest sweats and hoped they'd hide what was under them. I threw my snake, a plunger, some wrenches, and a couple of kinds of pliers in a duffle and headed across the street. Mrs. Travers. "David, hurry, hurry. It's getting worse!" I followed the sound of running water until I saw it. How did she let it get this far? The bathroom was flooded, and it was flowing out into the hallway. I stuck my phone in a pocket of the duffel and set the bag down in a spot near the door that was still dry. "Get me all the towels you can. Clean, dirty, doesn't matter. Quick!" She brought me a couple of kitchen towels. "No, bath towels. The bigger the better. And as many as you can carry." This time, she understood. I tossed the m around the room, and they were saturated as soon as they hit the floor. "Have you got more?" She nodded. "Get them. All of them." I squatted beside the toilet and tried to turn the shutoff valve. Nothing. I grabbed a pair of channel locks from my bag and tried to muscle the knob again. Before the valve finally budged, I was afraid the strain would make me poop my pants. I did pee them a little. Thank heaven that didn't happen. I was making some headway, when my phone rang. I had to get the water off; so, I ignored it. Was it really necessary to put so many threads on these stupid valves? The phone rang again. Again, I ignored it. I could hear the flow slowing. I was getting close. Like the sink, this valve was long unused and heavily corroded. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to turn that last little bit without breaking it off. The phone was ringing again. "Mrs. Travers! Could you answer my phone for me? I kind of have my hands full." I could see her looking at it like it was a snake in her hand. "Just slide your finger up the screen. That's it. And hit the button that says 'Answer.'" "David, where the hell are you," I could hear Kathy's voice all the way across the room. "You're not in your bed, and I've been calling and calling. What is going …" "Kathy, dear." Mrs. Travers found her voice and near shouted. "It's Mavis. David can't talk right now…. No, he's fine. It's my toilet. It was flooding the house. David was godsend, coming over to fix it…. Is he what? Well, yes, he is. There was quite a lot of water on the floor…. Oh…. Oh my …" I didn't hear any more. Mrs. Travers had wandered down the hall. I still needed to get the water shut down. The valve finally did close, and I shouted for Mrs. Travers to let her know. Nothing. I threw the soggy towels into the bathtub and used the last couple of dry ones to make a relatively dry spot to work. I took the lid off the tank to see why it was running like that. The arm on the old ball float had corroded right off. Always when there's a clog, I thought to myself. I got my snake to start working on the clog. It didn't go very far. It hit an obstruction almost immediately. Whatever it was, it was hard. I pulled the snake out, and a fair amount of toilet paper came with it. I went back it and hit the object again. I tried to dislodge it with the snake, but it wouldn't move forward, and I couldn't get the spring to snag it. There was nothing for it but to do it manually. I pushed up my sleeve, knelt down, and plunged my hand into the cold water. I tried really hard not to think about where my hand was or what it might find. I pulled out more toilet paper and gagged a little. In again, I felt the object. There was more paper around it, but I able to get my fingers around it. It was wedge in pretty tight, but it broke free, and the water in the bowl quickly went down. I swished off the paper and found a toy car. "I found the problem," I shouted. No reply. Where did she go? "Mrs. Travers?" I yelled. "I'm going to have to go to the hardware store. You need a new float valve." "You got it fixed. Thank heaven." I must have jumped a foot. I wasn't expecting her to be right there. "Almost," I said, trying to get my heart back where it belonged. "I'm going to need some parts." "Dear, oh dear, look at you. You're soaked to the skin. Come with me. I have some dry things you can change into." "That's okay. I can just run home." "Nonsense. You'll catch your death. Come." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bedroom. I stopped short, when I got to the door. There, on the bed were some my clothes, and sitting right on top was a diaper. I almost didn't hear Mrs. Travers speaking. "Kathy told me about your little problem, dear. I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry about taking you away from your nap. How about we get you in to something dry? Then you can have a snack and a little lie down before you go to the store." Before I knew it, Mrs. Travers pulled my sweats to my feet. "Mrs. Travers!" I shouted. "My, you are soaked to the skin, aren't you? Don't worry. We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy." She was guiding me toward the bed and pushing me down. "What's that you have in your hand? Oh, Matthew, that boy! You can keep that, if you want, Davey. Matthew won't be getting it back. But let's give it a wash first. We know where it's been." She gingerly took the car and set it aside. Then she reached for the tapes on my diaper. "Mrs. Travers, no! I mean, I can do this myself." "No need to fret, dear. Mr. Travers had the same problem toward the end. I'm an old hand at this." "But …" "It's the least I can do, dear. And I told Kathy I'd take good care of you this afternoon. Just lie still, and we'll have you nice and dry in no time." I tried to squirm and push her hands away. She slapped mine. "We'll have none of that nonsense. Kathy gave me permission to spank you the last time you were here. Don't make me have to do it." I looked at her wide-eyed. She gave me a look that said not to tempt her. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was someplace, anyplace else. That didn't work very well, since I had to lift while she got everything adjusted. She did make short work of it after that, and she was pulling my shoes, socks and sweats off my feet. I sat there dumbfounded, as she changed my shirt, put socks on my and had me step into my pants. "There," she said, satisfied, "all dry. Come on down to the kitchen. You can have some cookies and a nice glass of milk." She thanked me profusely while I ate. She made very good cookies. I reached for another. "Uh-uh," he said, as she took away the plates. "What would Kathy say, if I spoiled your appetite? Finish your milk, and we'll put you down for a nice little nap." "But I need to go to the hardware …" She cut me off, wiping my face with a damp cloth. "Plenty of time for that after your nap. I promised Kathy, and there won't be any more discussion about it. Come along." She took my hand and led me to a different bedroom, one she obviously kept for the grandkids. There was a wide assortment of toys and cartoon bedding. Whether very young, a bit old, girl or boy, whoever stayed in this room would feel comfortable and loved. Mrs. Travers pulled back the covers on the twin bed and told me to get in. I reluctantly did as she asked and immediately noticed the crackle of a waterproof cover. She tucked me in and, out of habit, pulled up a side rail. She tittered realizing what she had done. "Oh, well, better safe than sorry." She kissed my forehead. "You have a nice sleep, and when you get up, maybe Nana Mavis will let you have that cookie. Sleep tight, Davey." With that she was gone. What had I gotten myself into? I wanted to talk to Kathy, but I didn't know where my phone was, and she probably arranged this anyway. How was I going to look Mrs. Travers in the face after today? And what might she tell the other neighbors? I needed to get out of this predicament. I needed to get over this stupid wetting problem and find a new job. At least I'd be away from home more. I yawned. The morning was catching up with me. A little nap wouldn't hurt, and I was kind of stuck for now anyway. "Wakey, wakey," Mrs. Travers sang cheerily. "Time to get up." "Huh?" I tried to get my bearings. Why was I in a child's room? Oh yeah. "Did you have a nice nap?" she asked, letting down the rail. She shocked me by sticking her fingers in the waistband of my diaper. "Not too wet. You should be fine till your Mommy gets home." "I need to get to the store." I needed to get out of there. "That will have to wait. I talked to Kathy, and she should be here soon. You can finish up tomorrow. How about that cookie? It will be our little secret." It turned out not to be a secret. I was biting into a second one, when Kathy came in. For some reason, I felt guilty. "How was he for you today, Mavis? I know how he can be when there's plumbing involved." "A perfect angel, Kathy. Weren't you, Davey? He's just having a little snack as a reward for coming to my rescue." "I'm glad to hear that. I just hope he hasn't spoiled his dinner. A growing boy can't live on milk and cookies." "I expect he'll be fine. I'm sure he worked up quite an appetite." "Well, we'd best be off. I'll send him over in the morning to finish up. You don't mind watching him, do you?" "Not at all dear. He's my good little helper." "Thank you, Mavis. Come on, Dave. Let's go make some supper." "Oh, Davey, don't forget your car. It's all clean now. He can have it, can't he, Kathy?" "Of course. What do you say, David?" "Thank you, Mrs. Travers." I didn't need to be reminded, for gosh sake. "You're welcome, Davey. Maybe tomorrow, we can make some cookies together?" She winked. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. We'll talk to you tomorrow." Kathy took me by the hand and led me home. "That was very nice of you, helping Mrs. Travers like that. I was so worried, when I couldn't find you." "I did call." "I know. I should have checked my messages first. That's my fault. Do you like your toy?" "What? Oh, yeah, I guess," I said, setting it down. "It was very nice of Mrs. Travers to give it to you." "I know. But can you stop talking to me like I'm a child?" "I'm just saying it was nice." "But you told me to say thank you, and you're talking about my working over there like your dropping me off at daycare." "Still a bit cranky after your nap." "I'm not cranky! And I don't need naps. I'm not a baby, damn it." "Don't take that tone with me. And no more potty mouth, unless you want it washed out. How's your diaper holding out, by the way?" "It's fine. Why did you make me wear it all day anyway? Now Mrs. Travers knows, and she'll probably tell everybody. It's not like I don't have enough problems. I don't have a job anymore, and I can't stop wetting the bed, and now everybody's gonna think I'm a big baby, just like you and Mrs. Travers do. It's not fair!" Tears were running down my face. "Why does it have to be like this?" Kathy took me in her arms, and I sobbed. It was all too much. I felt a warm wetness gather around my bottom, and I cried all the harder. "Shh. Shh. I know, baby. I know. It's all overwhelming, isn't it? It's going to be okay. I promise. I had a long talk with Mrs. Travers this afternoon. I explained the whole thing, and she understands. She just wants to help, and she won't tell a soul; I promise. I don't want you to worry about a thing. I know you're not a baby. But you've been through a lot lately, and I want to take care of you. I want you to let all the hurt go. I think that bully of a boss did more damage than you realize. And trying to put up a brave front and hide what it was doing only made it worse. I think you need to let go of everything and let me handle things for a while. Can you be a big, brave boy and trust Mommy to look after you until you're better?" I nodded. "That's my little man. You just let Mommy be in charge for a while, and she'll make it all better. You just be Mommy's little helper, and don't worry about the mean people anymore. You can help Mrs. Travers too. She needs lots of help now that her husband is gone. She doesn't mind that you are having potty problems any more than Mommy does. We know that even big boys have trouble with the potty sometimes. You just do what we ask, and we'll take care of the rest. Can you do that for me, baby? Will you do that for Mommy?" "I guess." I was emotionally drained. I couldn't fight it anymore. "Promise me, baby. Promise me you'll listen to Mommy and Mrs. Travers and let us take care of you." "I promise." "I promise, what?" "I'll listen." "Listen to who, baby?" "Mommy and Nana Mavis." I sat up at hearing that name come out of my mouth. Kathy looked shocked, but her surprise quickly turned into a smile. "That's right, baby. Mommy and Nana will take good care of you. Are you hungry?" I was caught off guard by the question, but I was, in fact. I nodded. Kathy squeezed the front of my diaper. "Then let's get you fed, but first somebody needs a change." Kathy took me upstairs, then made a detour into the bathroom. When she was down to the diaper, she asked if I had made poopies that day. I hadn't. "Sit on the potty, and try to make a boom-boom for Mommy. I'll be right back." I was getting ready to wipe when she came back … naked. She turned on the shower. She took the paper from my hand and told me to stand up. "Good job! Turn around." She bent me over and wiped me. "Okay, get in the shower. You've been playing with toilet water all day and not the good kind. Mommy needs to clean you up." It was nice showering together. It had been a long time since we did that. All that soaping and scrubbing led to other things, and we had to start over. We basked in the afterglow under the water. "I'm confused. One minute, you're wiping me like I'm three years old, the next you're …" I grinned and pulled her closer. "You may need a mommy right now, but you are still my husband, and don't you forget it. I haven't. But now it's time to get the baby dressed and fed. Get out, and Mommy will dry you." I had the best night's sleep in many weeks, wet but restful. Kathy woke me lovingly, and she was laying out my clothes when I came back from the shower. "No diaper?" "Of course not, sweetie. Your punishment is over. It's back to the regular rules. You'll wear your training pants until naptime, unless you'd rather a diaper. It's okay if you do." "No, training pants are good. But what about Mrs. Travers? What if she notices a difference? How am I going to explain why I was wearing a diaper yesterday but not today?" "Don't worry, baby? Mommy already talked to Nana, and she knows all about it. That's the other reason you can go back to wearing training pants. Nana will be there to make sure you don't fall asleep without your diaper on." "Does that mean I have to go back to wearing diapers when I get finished with her bathroom?" "I expect you'll be busy with her all day. We'll just see how it goes. Okay, sweetie?" "Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "Don't pout, honey. You're going to have lots of fun with Nana. I promise." I went to my workshop and got a tubing cutter. I was going to replace that old shutoff valve as well as the float. Kathy was waiting by the door with an overnight bag. "What's that?" I asked. "Just some extra supplies, you never know." We went out, and I started to turn toward the car. "No, baby, this way. Nana will take you to the store." Mrs. Travers was waiting for us. The door opened as we approached. "Why, hello, Davey," she said, a little too brightly. "All ready to get to work?" "Yes, ma'am." "Oh, don't be so glum. You did the hard part yesterday, didn't you? You're such a good helper. You'll have it all fixed in no tie, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." "Now, now. No need to be so formal. We're good friends now, aren't we? What did we agree my name was?" I hadn't agreed to anything, but I knew what was expected. "Nana Mavis." "That's right!" she beamed. "And Nana's going to take very good care of you. And if you're a very good boy, Nana has a big surprise for you later. Won't that be fun?" I looked at Kathy, hoping she would intervene on my behalf. Instead she gave me a small not and a look that said go along with it. "Yes, Nana." "That's my good boy. Come in. come in. Have you had breakfast yet? Nana can't have you working on an empty stomach." "I'm sorry, Mavis. I didn't have time to feed him this morning. I really am running late." "That's alright, dear. He can eat with Nana. I'm just sorry you can't join us." "Me too, but I do have to run. Here's his bag. It should have anything you might need. David, you be a good boy for Nana today, and I'll see you after work. Thank you again, Mavis." Kathy kissed both me and Nana … Mrs. Travers on the cheek and took her leave. "Well, Davey, we've got a big day ahead of us. I think that calls for pancakes. How about you?" I nodded enthusiastically. "Then have a seat. They'll be coming right up. But first, maybe you should go potty." I blushed and mumbled, "I don't have to right now." "I think you should try anyway. For Nana?" "Alright." I headed off to the sill working guest bath. "That's a good boy. Don't forget to flush and wash your hands." I don't know what Kathy told her, but Mrs. Travers was taking to her role as Nana more enthusiastically than I was comfortable with. I suppose it wasn't hurting anyone, maybe my pride a little bit. On the other hand, she was being really nice. It's not every day I get someone to make pancakes for me, and bacon from the smell of it. I made an honest effort of it, but I didn't have to go. I flushed and washed anyway. "Just in time. I have your plate all ready for you." I half expected it to be already cut up. Instead, she had poured one large and two small circles of batter, making the shape of a famous mouse. I had to smile at that. She set the plate down in front of me, tucked a napkin into my shirt, and kissed me on the forehead. "Be careful with the syrup. Use both hands." That annoyed me a little, but I bit my tongue and used both hands. I don't know if using only one would have made any difference, but the syrup did pour faster than expected, and my pancake was fairly swimming in it. "Oh, somebody has a sweet tooth," she said, setting a large glass of milk in front of me. "Eat up, there's plenty more where that came from." "May I have some coffee, Nana?" "Coffee? Are you sure? Oh, heavens, of course. But drink your milk too. It's good for you." She made excellent pancakes, light, crispy around the edges. I had seconds and bacon and thirds. I had to soak up all that syrup after all. I was stuffed. "Such a good eater," she said, astonished. "Aren't you going to have some?" "Oh, no, dear," I had something earlier. Is your tummy full? Would you like something else?" "No, thank you. I couldn't eat another bite. It was delicious." "You're welcome, sweetheart. It's nice to cook for someone again. I suppose you'll be wanting to go to the hardware store?" "After that meal, not so much. But I do need to get some things to finish fixing the toilet." "I'll go freshen up and then we can go. Do you need to use the potty?" "No, Nana," I sighed. "I'm fine." "Okay," she said uncertainly and went about her business. I poured myself another half cup of coffee. I was wondering what was taking so long, when she came back with her hair a little spruced up and a touch of light make up. "You're sure you don't want to use the potty before we go?" "Yes, Nana," I said, rolling my eyes. "Watch your tone, young man. Alright let's go." Before long, we were back, and I set right to work. I had the old shutoff replaced and the main water turned back on. The corroded float mostly out, when I wished I had used the toilet before starting. I was close to finished; so, I forged on. All parts attached and feeling tight, I opened the shutoff and promptly got sprayed in the face. I turned off the water and had another go at the loose fitting. That did it, tight as a drum. I closed the door and christened the job. I noticed that the training pants were more than a little damp. I flushed and watched all the parts work as they should. I put away my tools and wiped everything down. Proud of myself, I opened the door and shouted, "Nana! I'm done!" "Nice job, Davey! I'm so proud of you. Thank you so much. It's beautiful! Come along. I have a nice lunch and a big piece of cake with your name on it." Lunch was grilled cheese and tomato soup. Again, she stuck the napkin in my shirt. She wasn't kidding about the cake. It was a two-layer yellow cake with gobs of homemade chocolate buttercream and enormous. It was all I could do to finish it. I didn't object the big glass of milk she gave me, even though I would have preferred coffee, and I didn't really need to use two hands, as she insisted. I thanked her with all my heart and said I would be on my way. "Oh, no, David. I have something I want you to do after your nap. Come up stairs and lie down. Nana has a big surprise for you when you get up." "I really should be …" "Now, David, you've been so good all day. Don't start giving Nana trouble now. I told your Mommy I would put you don after lunch, and that's what we're going to do." She took my hand and led me back to the grandkids' room. I think she would have dragged me, if I had put up any resistance. She put the bag Kathy had brought on the bed and pulled out pajamas and a diaper. She did a double take and took something else out of the bag. She turned around and wagged Kathy's hairbrush at me. "Don't make me use this," she warned and put it back. "Let's get you changed, and you'll have a nice nap and be all rested for your surprise." She came over and started unbuttoning my shirt. I backed away. She asked if she needed to get the hairbrush. I let her undress me. If I wasn't nervous before, I certainly was when she had me down to the pull-up. She started to take it down and stopped halfway. "Oh, David, when did that happen? I told you, you should have used the potty before we went to the store. You have to tell Nana when you have to go. Oh, well, I guess that's why we have you in trainers. At least your pants stayed dry. But let's get your diaper and jammies on, so you can go beddy-bye." I was soon tucked in and sulking. "Don't be that way, sweetheart. Nana's not mad. Accidents happen. But I want you to promise me, you'll tell Nana the next time, okay?" "Okay," I sighed. "That's Nana's good boy." She pulled the blankets up under my chin and kissed me on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Honeybunch. You have a good rest, and then nana has something really special for you. Ni-night." She shut the door and left me to wonder what it might be. Tucked in and toasty, with a full tummy, I didn't last long. Nana jostled me awake. I knew from the shadows; I had been out for a while. "Wake up, sleepyhead. Time to get up. If you sleep any longer, your Mommy will never get you down at bedtime. Do you want to see what Nana has for you?" I nodded, curious. "Good. Let's just have a check then. Oo, I think Nana shouldn't give you so much milk before naptime. No worries, that's what it's there for." She got the bag and pulled out a diaper and a pair of training pants. She seemed to weigh her options for a moment ad put the diaper back. "We'll try these again, but you have to tell nana when you need to use the potty, understand?" "Yes, Nana," I said, blushing. "Good boy." She got me changed and was pulling me the hand again. She had the biggest grin on her face. She took me down to the basement. I wondered what she wanted to show me. I had been down there earlier to turn off the main water line and hadn't noticed anything unusual. She turned me off to the left and opened a door. Before me lay the most elaborate train set I had ever seen outside and exhibition like the one we went to at Sharon's house. It wasn't nearly as big, of course, but still. It had everything, tracks wining all over the place, tunnels, trestles, crossing gates, people and animals. I stood there with my mouth hanging open. "Do you like it?" "Do I like it? It's beautiful!" "It was Harold's. He made it for our boys, but he could never get them interested in it. They just wanted to crash the trains. When they discovered girls, even Harold didn't play with it anymore. He never had the heart to get rid of it. I guess he always kept hope. It's been sitting down here all these years." "That's terrible. Something like this should be loved." "It was. It was, but not for a long time. Would you like to play with it?" "Would I? Do you mean it? That would be awesome! Are you sure it's okay? I mean …" "Yes, sweetheart, I mean it. It would do my heart good to know it wasn't down here just gathering dust. I think it would make Harold very happy too." There was a tear in her eye. "Oh, Nana, thank you!" I hugged her so tight. I think I might have lifted her off the floor. I gave her a great big kiss on the cheek and looked back over the display. I approached the layout with reverence, lightly touching it, following the track with my eyes. I found the controls and studied them carefully. I wanted to be sure of what each one did before I went any further. I never laid my hands on anything like this. I was lost in its intricacies when I made the first tentative turn of the transformer knob. An engine came to life and slowly started to move. I felt something placed on my head, then a hug from behind and a kiss on my cheek. I could take my eyes off the train, but I'm sure I felt a little wetness there. I was lost in wonder. I carefully tried each control, only for a second at first, just to make sure it did what I thought it would. After a while, I had two trains going and track switches working. I was thrilled, and I had barely scratched the surface of what it all could do. "Davey, you're Mommy's here." I almost whined for five more minutes. I really wanted to keep playing. Instead, I called back, dejectedly, "Okay." I carefully shut everything down, reversing the order in which I started them. When I stood up, a shiver ran through me. There was wetness on the backs of my thighs. I froze. How was I going to get out of there without them seeing? "David, come on," Kathy called. "It's time to go home and leave Nana in peace." "Coming," I lied. Now she was waiting at the top of the stairs. Was there a back door to this place? "Now, David. Don't make me come down there." There was nothing else for it. I slowly climbed the steps. There may as well have been a gallows at the top. "David! What have you done? I'm ashamed of you. Apologize this instant!" "I'm sorry, Nana." I meant it too. "You and I are going to have a talk about this when I get you home. I'm so sorry, Mavis." "It's alright, dear. I shouldn't have left him alone for so long. I should have known better after this morning." "This morning? You wet your pants twice in the same day? What am I going to do with you?" "Don't be too hard on him, Kathy. It wasn't that bad. I'm sure he couldn't help it. I really should have made him sit on the potty more." "It's not your fault, Mavis. There's no excuse for his wetting himself in the daytime. He should know when he needs to go potty, shouldn't you? If he doesn't, well we'll deal with it. But I think he was just being lazy and not wanting to stop playing. Get your bag and thank Nana. We're going home." "Thank you, Nana, for everything, especially for letting me play with the trains. That was so awesome." "You're welcome, sweetheart. You can play with them anytime you want, as long as your Mommy says it's alright." She took the hat off my head and handed it to Nana. "Thank you, Mavis, but I think he's lost his engineer's license for a while. We'll see if he earns it back. I'll call you later." She pushed me out the door and scolded me all the way across the street and into the house. "Go upstairs, take off your clothes, and sit on the potty. Don't move until I tell you. I'll come up when I'm calm enough to deal with you." I don't know how long I was left to sit there, long enough for my legs to fall asleep. Kathy was calmer when she came in but still visibly upset. She picked up the saturated training pants. "For heaven's sake, David, what is wrong with you? I thought by now, you'd be getting better, but your just getting worse. I so want to spank you right now, but I don't trust myself to do it. Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me? I've tried to be patient with you, but it's wearing pretty thin. I know you need a mommy right now, and I'm trying really hard to be that for you. I even told you, you could wear diapers all the time, if that's what you wanted. You said you didn't need them. You said you wanted training pants. You wanted to be a big boy. Then you go pissing your pants, not once but twice, the second time, so much you leaked. Well, mister, you listen to me, and you listen good. You want to piss your pants like a baby? Fine. You've got the whole weekend. You're going back into diapers right now, and you can piss and shit yourself to your heart's content. On Monday, if, and I mean if, I think you've learned your lesson, and you still want them, I'll consider letting you have your training pants back. But that's only going to if Nana will help with your toilet training. You'll sit on the potty on a schedule, you'll be supervised, your pants will be checked, and if you wet yourself, your going to be spanked, put back in diapers, and we'll start all over again the next time one of us is available to try and teach you to be a big boy. And don't think I'm going to be grounded just because you are being a baby. I have shopping to do this weekend, and you'll be coming with me, diaper bag and all. Do I make myself clear?" I had long since started crying. I sobbed, "I'm sorry." "I didn't ask if you were sorry. I said, do I make myself clear." "Yes, Mommy. Crystal." "Good. Get up and go in the bedroom. I need to get a diaper on you. You can clean up this mess afterward." "I can't," I wailed. "Are you defying me? After what you've done? Why the hell not?" "My legs are asleep." "Then I guess you'll just have to crawl like the baby you are acting like." I slid off the toilet and onto my knees. At first, I could hardly move my legs. Then the blood started to flow back into them, and that was much worse. Pins and needles only begins to describe the electric burning that flared with every movement. Kathy slapped my behind, and I screamed. Halfway to the bedroom, enough feeling had returned that I tried to stand. Kathy told me to stay where I was; she would let me know when I was allowed to walk again. I crawled up on the bed Lay back to be diapered. Kathy told me to roll over. I was sure she was going to take the belt to me, and I started bawling. Instead of fire on my bottom, I felt cold stickiness. She was slathering me with Desitin. It felt like she was using enough for three of me. I heard the rustling of diapers and saw two of them laid open next to me. She told me to roll over, and she applied a layer just as thick to the front. She covered me in a cloud of baby powder. It took her several wet wipes to get her hands reasonably clean. She taped up the double diaper and looked dissatisfied. She went away and came back with a role of clear packing tape. She told me to stand, and she wrapped the tape around me three times. "That ought to hold you. Get in bed. From what I heard, you had more than enough to eat today. If you're quiet, and I feel like it, I might bring you a bottle later. I do not want to hear a peep out of you. Understand?" "Yes, Mommy," I squeaked. She looked down at me for a long time. Finally, she sat down on the bed. She brushed the tears from my cheeks and the hair away from my forehead. "Sweetheart, I love you. I really do. I know that has all been hard on you. The thing is, this is all hard on me too. Shh. It's okay. I can deal with it, but you have to deal with it too. You have to decide what is going on and how you are going to handle it. What's happening isn't working. If anything, the situation is getting worse. I need you to think really hard about this. Do you think there is something wrong with you that you are losing control of your bodily functions, something physically wrong? If you do, I'll call Margaret on Monday. We'll get all the tests and specialists we need to make you better." I started to speak, but she put a finger over my lips and shushed me gently. "Don't answer now. I want you to think hard about that over the weekend. I don't know how your body feels inside. Margaret didn't find anything wrong with you before, and I don't think there is now. But you can tell me in a couple of days, after you think about it. As for me, I feel like you are trying to live in two worlds at the same time. A part of you wants to be a little boy and be taken care of. A part of you wants to be a big strong man. Both of those things are fine. But I think trying to both is hurting you. I think it's causing problems for me. I think you have to choose. If you can't handle the responsibility of keeping your pants dry, or just don't want it, you have to tell me. There are things we … I can do to prevent it from being a problem. It would mean some big changes for both of us, but we can deal with it, I promise. But you can't go around just wetting your pants, like you did today. That hurts us both, and it hurt Nana. It's all forgiven now, but you need to make some decisions. "You need to decide if there's something physically wrong with you and if not, which world you want to live in. Do you want to be a grown up, or do you need to be a little boy for now? I want you to take your time and really think about this. It's very important, and you should not make your decision quickly. I want you to take your time, and I won't ask for listen to your answer until Monday. I'm not going to push you in any direction, and I'll respect any decision you make. But I think, and I hope you agree, that what you did today was not the right way to handle what's happening, and that it deserves some consequences." I was sniffling, but I nodded. "Good. So, until Monday morning, you are going to be in diapers. You will use them when you need to, and you will do what I say. You can learn just what it's like to be Mommy's baby and whether that's right for you. Do not ask to be let out before we discuss your decision. I am not going to change my mind. And if you think this is easy for me, think about what changing one of your dirty diapers is like for me. Now, I want you to get some sleep. It's been a trying day for both of us." She stood up, tucked me in, and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, my baby-husband, no matter what." She turned out the light and left the room. I tried to think about what she said, but it was just too much, and I drifted off into a less than peaceful sleep. I felt Kathy curl up against me, and I slept better after that. I was suddenly cold and flailing for the blankets. "Wake up, sleepyhead," Kathy sang merrily. I was still in a fog. "Let's check that dipee. Oh, yes, all wet. Let's get you changed." She was cutting through the tape she had wrapped around me before I could fully comprehend where I was, let alone what she was doing. I was more or less awake by the time she taped up the fresh diaper. She told me to put on some pants and come downstairs for breakfast. I was greeted by a spread of pancakes and sausage. This was not unheard of on a Saturday morning, but it was usually me cooking it. I sat down and Kathy placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of me. I looked at her curiously. "Yes, I know what I said last night about your being Mommy's baby this weekend, but I don't think we have to go overboard. You do need to wear and use your diapers, and you have to do as I tell you, but I'm not going to make you drink from bottles or talk baby talk … unless you want to, that is. Oh, and unless we go out in public, you will call me Mommy, okay? I don't have any plans to go anywhere, but you never know. And public does not include Nana's house." I figured I could live with that, and I was already tucking into my pancakes anyway; so, I nodded. "Oh fay." "Don't talk with your mouth full. Then it's agreed." I'm not ashamed to admit I was stuffed when I finally put down my fork after my third helping. Okay, maybe a little ashamed, but it was really good. Kathy had long since finished and was tidying up. She brought a wet cloth when she came for my plate. "I know I said you wouldn't have to use a bottle, but maybe a bid might have been in order." I looked down and saw a number of places where syrup had dripped on my shirt. I blushed. Kathy chuckled and wiped them off. Then she wiped my face and my hands. She said I could do the dishes. I thanked her, sarcastically, for the privilege, and she gave me a warning look. I laughed. She checked my diaper, which deflated me a little, even though it was dry, and I took up the task. I don't mind washing dishes, especially when it's not many and somebody did the cooking. The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, other than the diaper checks and changes, our normal Saturday routine. The first was a little traumatic. I felt the urge to pee coming on while I was washing up from breakfast. All the coffee I drank wanted out, but I didn't want to just stand there and wet myself. Kathy noticed my little dance at the sink. She told me I may as well get it over with, because the diaper wasn't coming off until I needed a change. I did manage to hold off until I finished and got out of her sight, but by that time, I was desperate, and it all came out in a rush, and I ended up with a very noticeable leak. Kathy just shook her head with an "I told you so" expression when I went to her but said nothing more about it when she changed me. After that, I didn't resist so much. Sunday was shaping up to be more of the same. Kathy reminded me over breakfast, just cereal and coffee, that I had a big decision to make the next day and asked whether I had thought about it. I told her I had—I'd thought of little else—but hadn't made any decisions. I puttered around the house and spent some time on the computer. Kathy spent a lot of time on the phone. Then we realized we hadn't anything in the fridge to make for dinner. Somebody was going to have to go to the store. Kathy told me to put on something decent; sweats and a t-shirt were not her idea of appropriate shopping attire. "Do I have to go?" "Of course, you have to go. I can't leave a baby home alone." "Can't I stay with Nana?" "No, we've been imposing on her enough. Just get dressed, and stop whining." "But I don't want to go out like this." "You are going out. No one is going to notice. The only question is whether you are going to go with a sore bottom, because I'm this far from spanking you." "Okay. Okay. I'll go." Kathy was right. Despite the fact that grabbing something for dinner turned into a major shopping trip, nobody seemed to notice my condition. All in all, there were no problems, at least until we were on the way home. That's when not pooping for the last couple of days decided to catch up with me. I was really trying to hold out until Monday, when I was sure I could get Kathy to let me use the toilet. No such luck. We were barely out of the grocery store parking lot when the first cramp hit me, hard. I passed some gas and felt better. Kathy cracked her window, and I apologized. A few blocks later, it happened again. It wasn't long before the cramps started coming in waves. I was holding my own, but now I had to pee. I was very uncomfortable and starting to sweat. The last wave passed about the time we pulled in the driveway, and I felt I was home free, if you'll pardon the expression. I got out of the car, and another cramp hit me so hard I nearly doubled over. I clamped down hard on my back door but forgot about my bladder. I started to pee. Shaken, I tried to stop that and lost control of my bowels. I was standing in the driveway, filling my pants front and back. I was mortified and scanning the neighborhood to see who might be watching. Kathy rushed me into the house. She took me straight to the bathroom and got my shoes and pants off. No damage was done. She asked me if I was finished, and I admitted I wasn't sure. She told me to stay there; she would unload the car. In the eternity that followed, it turned out to be the right thing to do; I wasn't finished. My diaper was a saggy mess by the time Kathy returned. She held me for a long time and shushed away my attempts to apologize. She had me lie on the floor, and she started a bath. She toughed her way through removing the diaper and a cursory cleaning. She told me to soak while she put the groceries away. I think I was starting to doze when she came back and began washing me. The bath was a tender time, and she acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I felt better, and Kathy showed me that dirty diapers or not, she was still interested in me as a husband. I was very content, and probably could have used another bath, by the time she was putting a new diaper on me. The evening passed quietly. Kathy asked me if I might want a bottle before bedtime. I told her that depended on what was in it. She smiled and told me to stay put. She came back a few minutes later with a bottle filled with wine. A baby bottle is not the best way to drink wine. It's really too much at one time, especially when one is being encouraged to drink it all up. The nipple doesn't do anything to improve the flavor. But lying with your head in the lap of your lover while getting quickly inebriated certainly makes up for it. I slept very well that night. Morning came way too early for me. The sun was barely up, and I was having a nice dream. "Get up, honey." I moaned and pulled the covers over my head. Kathy pulled them back down. "It's decision day, and I have to be at work in a couple of hours. Let's get you changed." Kathy had me sorted quickly and let me have enough coffee to bring the world into focus before starting our discussion. "Sweetheart, it's time," she started. She seemed as hesitant as I felt. "I guess the first question, and the one that kept me up a lot over the last few days, is: do you feel like something is wrong with your body? I mean with your accident yesterday; I have been really worried." "No," I assured her. "I was just hoping I could make it till today. I didn't want to do that in the diaper. If I had been able to use the bathroom, it wouldn't have been a problem." "So, you held your poopies in until you had a big accident in your diaper anyway." "I guess." "Not very mature, was it?" "I suppose not." "So, you feel like you are healthy? Nothing wrong?" "I don't think so." "Well, that's a relief. The bedwetting is one thing. There are lots of reasons that can happen, and we'll get to the bottom of it eventually. But it doesn't explain your daytime accidents. Are you sure there's nothing going on inside?" "Yes, I'm fine." "Then why have you been peeing your pants? Can you feel when you need to go?" "Yes." "Does it hurt to go? Are you having a hard time going? Can't you hold it?" "No, no, and no. I'm fine, really." "Then why are you wetting your pants?" She didn't seem concerned anymore, more irritated. "I don't know." "Are you just trying to get my attention? Do you feel like I'm neglecting you?" "No, of course not." "Then what is it? Are you just being lazy?" "I … I don't know." "David, we both know that you can't go around wetting your pants all the time." "It's not all the time." "Don't interrupt. The way I see it, you are just being irresponsible. Like I told you before, if you don't want the responsibility, or if you don't want it, there are ways I can handle it. But if you want to be a big boy, you have to get a grip on this and stop wetting and pooping your pants right now. You've had all weekend to think about this. There are two choices left. You can be a responsible grown up, or you can be a little boy. So, what's it going to be?" "What happens if I choose to be a grown up?" "I'll expect you to act like a grown up. You look for a new job. Until you find one, you'll be expected to take care of the house. And I will not tolerate wet or poopy pants. There will be consequences, if that happens. That might be spanking you the first few times, but I will not put up with it indefinitely." "You'd leave me?" I asked, visibly scared that she might. "I'm not saying that. I don't plan to; I don't want to. I just can't say it's out of the question. I guess it depends on how hard you push me." "Please, please don't. I don't want to lose you. What about the other choice? What if I was a little boy?" "Sweetheart, I don't want to lose you either. I love you, no matter what you decide. But to answer your question, little boys are different. They can't be expected to be responsible all the time. Little boys have accidents in their pants. That's why they can't wear big boy undies. Mommies understand this. But little boys who wet themselves can't really be trusted to change themselves when they need to, can they? That means that they can't be left alone. They need to be watched to make sure they get changed regularly and don't get diaper rash, which means you'll have to stay with Nana while I'm at work. We have already discussed this, and it's all decided. On the other hand, because you can't expect too much from little boys, they get to play a lot more. Sure, they'll have some chores, but not like a grown up." "You mean I'd have to wear diapers all the time? Could I maybe be a little boy and still wear regular underpants?" "Sweetie, we discussed this. I think it's this half in, half out attitude that is causing your problems. I think that, for right now, you need to be a little boy, that it would be good for you, and that it's what you really want too. But I also think you are fighting it, trying to act like a grownup sometimes and not others. I think you are being pulled between what you want and need, on the one hand, and what you think you should be doing, on the other. I think it's that tension that's causing a lot of your problems. For your own sake, if not for mine, you need to pick one or the other, because not choosing is hurting both of us." "But I don't want to wear diapers all the time." "Don't whine, honey. I've thought about this a lot. I think it would be a lot easier if you did, but if you really don't want to, we can try you in training pants during the day. Nighttime is non-negotiable for now; so is naptime. But understand, your wearing training pants comes with a lot more responsibility for everyone. For you, that would mean telling me or Nana when you have to go potty. No, you cannot just go by yourself. Nana and I will each decide whether you need to be supervised, but I want you to tell us when you have to go, so we can keep track. Nana and I would also be telling you, from time to time, that we want you to sit on the potty and try. You said you are not sick; so, there should be no excuses for having accidents in your training pants. If you do, Nana and I will each decide whether it deserves a spanking. I've already given her permission to spank you for this or any other disobedience. You do not want to find out what will happen if you give her any trouble about it. If you have two accidents in one day, you'll go back to diapers until I decide you are ready to try again. If you can live with those rules and promise to try really hard, we'll try you in training pants for the time being. Nana and I will also decide whether you should be in diapers, if we have to take you somewhere, and there won't be any arguments, understand?" "Yes." She looked at me expectantly. "Mommy." "Alright. That's one way to go. Your other choice would be to just wear diapers all the time. You wouldn't have to worry about when you had to go potty. We'll check you and change you when you need it. If you want to make poopies in the potty, you can tell us. Let's face it; changing your dirty diapers is not fun. You don't have to, but you can. But we'll decide whether it's convenient to put you on the potty; so, no whining. We may still tell you to try making peepee in the potty, but you are not to ask. If this is the way you want to go, I want you to relax and not be concerned about keeping your pants dry. Let us worry about them. No one will make a fuss over a wet or dirty diaper; that's what they are there for. You can play or do your chores and not worry about wetting your pants. "So, you have a couple of choices to make, and I need you to make them now. There are no wrong answers here. I love you and will support you whatever you decide. I want you to do what you think is best for you. First, do you want to try being a grownup, or do you want to be a little boy?" I tumbled the alternatives in my brain. I had been completing it all weekend but didn't have this new information to work with. Kathy waited patiently, but I caught her checking her watch. "Little boy," I finally gave in. "I really think that's for the best. So, diapers or training pants?" "Can we do training pants, please?" I whined. "Are you sure? You know the consequences, if you start having accidents." I hesitated, asking myself whether I was making the right decision. "Uh huh." "Alright then. You had fair warning; so, you had better not abuse the privilege. Now, I need to get to work. Let's check your diaper." She came around and put her hand on the front. "Still dry. That's fine. Just tell Nana when you need the potty, and she'll put you in your training pants. Now, go get dressed, or I'm going to be late." "I don't get them now?" "I told you before, I'm not wasting perfectly good diapers. Now, go get dressed, or would you prefer to discuss it over my lap." "I'm going." I sighed. By the time I was back downstairs, Kathy was waiting by the door with, what I could only assume, was my diaper bag. She took me by the hand and led me across the street. Nana opened the door as we approached. "There he is," she sang. "That was a very grown up decision you made. But the last one for a while, hmm? We're going to have lots of fun together while you get all better, okay?" I found myself shyly nodding my head and trying to slip behind Kathy. Kathy defended me, saying, "I guess he's feeling a little shy this morning. Here's his diaper bag. He can help you bring more supplies over after he gets settled in, but that should hold you for now. He still has his diaper on from this morning, but we're going to try him in training pants for a while. We've discussed the rules. He can have his pull-ups after goes potty. I guess that's it for now. I think we discussed everything over the weekend, but if you run into any difficulties, you have my cell." She kissed my cheek. "Be good for Nana. I don't want any bad reports. I love you, sweetie. Have fun today." She took my hand from hers and gave it to Nana. Then she was off. Nana raised my hand and waved it for me. When Kathy's car was headed down the road, Nana took me inside. She asked me if I wanted something to eat. I told her I ate already. She filled a sippy cup with apple juice anyway. "Why don't you just take that and go play with your trains. We can talk when you're a little more awake, okay?" I was relieved to be off the hook for a while and welcomed the chance to be alone with my thoughts. I nodded and headed for the basement. Nana called after me. "Don't forget to come find me when you have to go potty." That caused me to stop and cringe for a second. I guess that was enough acknowledgment for Nana, because she said no more. I blushed and continued on my way. I had planned on brooding over my new life, but once I got started with the trains, all other thoughts left my head. Sometime later, a voice invaded my play. "Davey," it sang. "Davey?" "David! Stop that train." Nana was standing at my shoulder. I cut the power and the train slowed to stop. "You answer when Nana calls you, young man. You've been down here quite a while. I think you had better take a break and sit on the potty, don't you?" Now that she mentioned it, I did, more than I realized. "Uh huh." "Come on then. I'll get you some more juice too." I practically ran up the stairs to the bathroom. She shouted after me to slow down. I was in the bathroom trying to get my pants down when she caught up with me. It was difficult to do while dancing. "Let's get that diaper off." She pushed my hands away and undid the tapes herself. She pulled it from between my legs and pushed me back to sit. A stream hit the water almost immediately. "Just in time, I see. Well, almost in time." There was a small, but not inconsequential wet spot on the diaper. I was mortified. "That's alright. I shouldn't have let you stay done there so long. We won't mention this, okay." I nodded gratefully. "Stay there, and I'll be right back with some dry pants." She wasn't gone long but long enough for me to berate myself for not paying more attention to my bladder. I told her I could dress myself, but she insisted on helping. She suggested we take care of a few chores before lunch. These included going to my house to bring over more supplies. I said I didn't think we needed so many pairs of training pants, and I begged her not to bring the diapers. "Better safe than sorry. Besides, you'll need them for your naps." I didn't plan on taking any naps, but it seemed pointless to argue with her. So, I trudged back across the street with a big cardboard box of what would be my underwear for the foreseeable future. It was lunchtime, and Nana fixed us sandwiches. I was pleased she didn't try to make me wear a bib, but she did insist I use the sippy cup. Afterward, she had more chores for us. True to her word, she frequently asked me if I needed to use the potty, several times insisting that I try. I couldn't tell whether she was smiling or smirking when I produced. Late in the afternoon she suggested I watch TV until my mommy got home. I was happy to oblige. I must have nodded off, because Nana was pulling down my pants. "Shh. Calm down, sweetheart. You're very tired, and I think we should get a diaper on you, just in case." "I'll stay awake, I promise." "Don't worry, honey. It's okay you don't want to take a nap. Nana will feel much better though, if we put your diaper on. Do you want to use the potty first?" I shook my head. There was no arguing with her. "Alright; if you're sure. We'll just put this on, and you can rest." Safely wrapped up, she let me return to my movie. I didn't see the end. The sun was much lower when I heard Kathy's voice. "I hope he wasn't any trouble today." "Nothing serious dear. I left him to play too long this morning. He mostly made it in the potty. That was my fault, and you shouldn't say anything about it. Otherwise, he was a very good boy, hardly any fuss. He might be a little wet now. He didn't want to use the potty before I put him down for his nap." I stretched, making it known that I was awake and giving me an opportunity to check my pants. I was disappointed to find Nana was right. I was a little wet. "Hi, baby," Kathy beamed, sitting down next to me. "Did you have fun with Nana today?" Other than the trains, I wouldn't have called it fun, but it wasn't bad. "Uh huh." "And were you a good boy for Nana?" I looked up at Mrs. Travers; she was smiling back at me. "Yes, Mommy. I was good." "He sure was. He helped me a lot," Nana praised. I nodded in agreement. "That's my good boy." Kathy hugged me. "But now it's time to get you home and fed. Thank Nana." "Thank you, Nana," I said automatically. I pushed back the blanket she must have covered me with and stood up. Kathy felt my crotch and appeared to come to some decision. She picked up the diaper bag and kissed Nana on the cheek. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. I don't know what I'd do without you. Say bye-bye, Davey." "Bye-bye, Nana. See you tomorrow." "Think nothing of it, Kathy. It's my pleasure. Bye-bye, sweetheart. Maybe we'll make cookies tomorrow. How does that sound?" My face lit up. "Don't get him thinking about cookies. I need to get dinner in him. Thanks again. I'll see you in the morning." Kathy took me home and immediately started to take things out for dinner. I tried to help, but she insisted I sit down and tell her about my day. I did and watched her cook while feeling bad that she had worked all day and was now working again. I told her I was going to wash up and use the potty. I couldn't stop calling it that. "It's alright, honey. Just use your diaper. It's already damp, and I'm going to have to change you for bedtime anyway." I sulked back to the bathroom. I wet myself while washing my hands. Dinner was up to Kathy's usual standards. I would have made a pig of myself, if she'd have let me. She left the washing up to me, which alleviated my guilt. Kathy came back as I was drying the last dish. "Okay, baby, bath time." "Already? I don't want to go to bed yet." "I didn't say you had to go to bed, but if you're getting cranky, maybe you should." "No. Sorry." "That's better. Come on then." Bath time was fun. Kathy had picked up some bath toys. It took some encouragement on her part for me to try them out. After pushing a boat around tentatively, she left me alone. Without an audience, it was easier for me to try playing. I was really getting into it when she came back. I didn't want to stop, but she said I was already pruning up, and she needed to get me clean. Her ministrations were fun too. Dried and back in the bedroom, I saw a large cloth diaper on the bed. "Where did that come from?" "I picked those up today," she said, as if she were talking about a new pair of socks. "The lady at the store said they were much more effective for nighttime, especially for side sleepers. She told me they are very comfortable too." I wasn't at all sure about this. Arguing with Kathy is rarely productive, but maybe I could distract her. "But it's still early. I'm not ready to go to bed yet." "It's not that early. You'll be going to bed soon. You may as well get ready now." "But what if I need to pee?" "Well, we'll just have to take it off. Anyway, you just went, and it's not like it wouldn't be the first wet diaper you slept in, would it?" "I guess." "Then lay your butt down, so I can get your diaper on, and we can watch TV for a while. Or would you prefer I give you a spanking and put you to bed right now?" I made the only sensible decision. Instead of closing the diaper up right away, Kathy started smearing sticky, white paste on my bottom. "The clerk said it's important to protect against diaper rash when using cloth." Lots of powder followed. Kathy's rubbing everything in overcame any displeasure I had with the experience. All too son, Kathy brought the front of the diaper up and pinned it in place. She threaded plastic pants over my feet and had me stand up. The cloth diaper—or diapers I should say; there were obviously several—felt entirely different, the plastic pants even more so. The diaper was pleasantly soft, although it inhibited my movements, much like the double disposables had. The plastic pants were scratchy around the openings. They came up well onto my abdomen and ballooned out. They were somewhat stiff and made a soft, almost crackly sound when I moved. I caught sight of myself in Kathy's chevalier mirror. Let's be clear; there is nothing mature looking about a man in an adult diaper, except perhaps the knowledge that old people wear them. However, there is something vaguely clinical about them, and under the right clothes, they are relative discrete. On the other hand, a thick cloth diaper covered by billowing plastic pants is nothing short of infantile. It would take a lot to overcome the impression that the wearer is a big baby who can't control himself. I stared at my reflection for a long time, pondering what I was becoming. "I think you look adorable," Kathy said, hugging me from behind. "Here, let's put your jammies on, and then we can go watch some TV, okay?" I tore my eyes away from the mirror and let Kathy dress me. I was still stunned and had no will to resist. As I walked down the stairs, I felt I was moving as I looked, like a baby. The swaying of my hips and the rustling of the plastic pants confirmed with each step the road I was on. "What's the matter, baby?" Kathy asked when she saw my tears. "That," I said, pointing at the mirror. "That's what's the matter. I'm turning into a baby. What's wrong with me?" "Oh, honey, there's nothing wrong with you. You're still my big strong man. It's just that you're my adorable little baby too. And I love you so much!" "How can you love me like … this?" "Sweetie, sweetie, I love you like this, or any other way. This is what you need right now. There's nothing wrong with it. You're having a bit of rough patch right now, and we are dealing with it the best way we know how. You're just feeling vulnerable, and that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay; it's attractive." "You find this attractive?" "Yes, I do. You may not realize it, but you have been far more open than you have been in a really long time. I feel I am able to get closer to you than I can remember. You are letting me in on your feelings, where you have been hiding them for years. It feels good to be needed. If what you are wearing helps with all that, I'm more than okay with it. Truth be told, I find the fact that I'm 'in charge' of some things very sexy." As if to prove the point, she snuggled closer and rubbed the front of my pants. She placed my hand on her own crotch, which was noticeably hot and damp. "I love you, baby, and I always will. Now, how about a smile for Mommy? Can you do that? Would you like Mommy's titty? Would that make you feel better?" Let's just say I was feeling much better by the time we went to sleep. Over the next several weeks, after some trial and error, we settled into a routine. Kathy would drop me off at Nana's house. I would have breakfast and some time to wake up with the paper or internet. There's be some chores to do before lunch. Afterward, I would be put down for a nap. At first, I fought this, but after getting spankings from both Nana and Kathy, I stopped resisting. After my nap, I'd help nana with whatever she wanted to do. Sometimes, it was chores; other times, it was baking or shopping. Then, I had playtime; that usually meant the trains. The reason I disliked the naps, and why I fought them the way I did, was that Nana and Kathy insisted that I be diapered, just in case. That wouldn't have been so bad, but they also insisted that throwing away a dry diaper was just wasteful. I did not get my training pants back until I was wet. I think that contributed to my increasingly frequent naptime wettings. I mostly enjoyed my time with Nana. She was sweet, always made me feel special, and often gave me treats. I was starting to put on weight. The downside was her approach to "toilet training" me. She made me try to use the potty far more frequently than necessary. I wouldn't have minded so much, but it always seemed to be at an inopportune moment, and she insisted on taking me and helping me with my pants. I told her I could just go myself, but she would have none of it. She said she had to make sure I hadn't had an accident and that I did something in the toilet. If I didn't produce, the look of disappointment on her face was deeply disheartening. If several attempts did not result in anything, she would make be sit there until something happened. She would get very cross and tell me she was not going to let me wet my pants just because I was too lazy or obstinate to use the potty like a big boy. My protests that she was just making me try too often, and that I always made when I asked to use the potty, fell on deaf ears. This poor timing came to a head one day when I was laying with the trains. I had been very wet after my nap, and nana made me use the potty a couple of times while doing my chores. I didn't need to go when she took me up a while into my playtime. About fifteen minutes after she let me go downstairs, I started to feel the urge. I was sure she would be back to get me soon, as that had become the pattern. She didn't, and I continued play as my bladder became more insistent. I was getting toward the point of desperation when I went to find Nana and tell I needed the potty. I found her on the phone. I stood and watched her until she took notice of me. She excused herself and covered the mouthpiece. She asked me what I wanted, and I told her of my need. "I just took you a few minutes ago." "I didn't need to go then." "If that's true, you shouldn't need to go that badly now. I'll be with you when I'm off the phone. Go play." "Sorry, about that," she said into the receiver. "I'm watching the neighbor's boy, and he wanted my attention. ... He says he needs to go potty, but I just took him five minutes ago. … No, no, I'm sure he can hold it for a couple of minutes. He needs to learn that he can't just go the moment he feels like it. … You, boys are always more difficult to train. … Ha, ha, ha, yes, men too. Davey, go play. I'll be with you as soon as I'm off the phone." I ducked back downstairs, muttering to myself that it had been a lot more than five minutes, and she should have just let me go by myself. I tried to play some more, but my need was growing stronger. A few minutes later, I was back upstairs and making gestures to indicate that time was of the essence. She wasn't paying attention. "Nana," I whispered. Nothing. "Nana," I said a little louder. "Nana," I whined, louder still and fearful I would be heard over the phone. "Davey, don't interrupt. I told you I would be right with you. If you can't behave yourself, you can go stand in the corner. Go on, march." Her look left no doubt that she was serious. I stomped my foot and went to the corner the indicated. "I'm sorry. You were saying?" Her conversation went on and on. It wasn't long before I was clutching myself and shifting from foot to foot. "What? Yours too? I guess you had better be going. Goodbye, Debbie. Give my love to Tony." She must have been talking to her daughter-in-law. She hung up the phone and walked up behind me. She gave a hard swat to my behind. That was more than I could take, and a large squirt erupted into my training pants. "David, I'm very disappointed in you. Don't you know it's rude to interrupt when someone is on the phone? I bet you don't interrupt your Mommy when she's on the phone, do you?" "No," I conceded. "But …" "But nothing. Whatever it was could have waited. I told you I wasn't going to be long." "But I had to go potty," I whined. "You're a big boy, you can hold it for a couple of minutes, can't you?" "Yeah," I said tentatively. "Let's get you to the potty then," she sighed. Once in the bathroom, I started to undo my pants. I was really hoping she would go away. Instead, she brushed my hands away and took over. "David! How could you? You said you could hold it. I thought you were a big boy." "I am. I can. But … you spanked me." "That little slap on the tushy? That's your excuse? Well, we'll just see about that. I'll show you what a real spanking is, after you finish on the potty. If there's anything left, that is." She pushed me down firmly onto the seat and, much to my embarrassment, pushed my pee down between my legs for me. She would usually leave me alone to do my business, but not this time. She hovered, glaring at me and tapping her foot. I forced myself to overcome my bladder shyness and peed a still considerable amount. I felt the rumblings of a bowel movement coming on, but with Nana standing there, it wasn't going to happen. When she decided it was done, grabbed my wrist, pulled me up, flushed the toilet, and dragged me to her room with my pants still around my ankles. She grabbed a hairbrush off her dresser and sat down on her bed. I was over her knees in a trice. She put the hairbrush to work right away and had me blubbering out excuses, apologies, and promises before I could think. She kept up a steady barrage of scolding. "I just can't believe it, a big boy like you, interrupting me on the phone, peeing his pants, blaming it on one little slap, can't wait a couple of minutes to use the potty. I've known toddlers better behaved. Just wait till your Mommy hears about this. I'm sure she won't be happy. I can tell you this. You' won't be wetting your pants again in my house, not today. You're going right back into diapers where you belong." I'm not sure those were her exact words, but they were the gist of it. I'm not even sure she heard my protests that I tried, and she was a lot longer than a couple of minutes on the phone. I hadn't realized she stopped when she made me stand up and dragged me to the room I napped in. She pushed me down on the bed and got a diaper out. My blazing behind was wrapped up before I knew, and she was telling me I would be staying in bed the rest of the afternoon. "And if I hear one peep out of you, you'll think that spanking was playing pat-a-cake." She left me sobbing, while she muttered about the earful my mommy was going to get later. I willed myself to sleep, anything to avoid thoughts of what Mommy was going to say when she got there. I felt a gentle shaking of my shoulder, drawing me back to the land of the living. I was grateful to escape my troubled dreams, but when I saw Mommy sitting beside me, my eyes began to fill with tears again. I opened my mouth to beg her forgiveness, but she placed a finger over my lips. "Not now, sweetie. We'll talk about it when we get home." She helped me to sit up and put on some pants. "Let's get you home and fed, and we'll have a nice long talk, okay?" She didn't seem mad. That worried me. It wasn't like Kathy to restrain her feelings, and when she did, it usually resulted in a real blowout. She took my hand and led me downstairs. I followed with trepidation. Nana was waiting. She appeared considerably calmer too. I didn't understand, but I was not unhappy when she gave me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, with promises to see me tomorrow. Kathy was crossing the street leisurely, but my stress level went up with every step closer to our house. I was sure she would lower the boom as soon as we were behind closed doors. Instead, she pulled me into an embrace and rocked me. Without letting go, she made a quick diaper check and announced I would be fine until after supper. She took me into the kitchen and had me sit, while she prepared our meal. I asked if I could help, but she wouldn't hear of it. It was a simple supper, which I would have enjoyed more if I hadn't been waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Sweetie, about what happened at Nana's today," she began. Here it comes, I thought. "Nana wanted me to apologize for her getting so upset with you. After she put you down and had time to think, she realized that she really was talking for a long time, and she should have listened to you and taken you to the potty sooner." "If she'd just let me go by myself …" "Shh. It's okay. We know you are having trouble making it to the potty in time, and we shouldn't keep you waiting." "But I can," I protested. "Honey, are your pants wet now?" Without thinking, I put my hands to my crotch, and blushed when I felt the squish. "Come here, baby." I stood and walked around to her. She unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down. She squeezed the front of my diaper and looked at me. "Sweetie, you are more wet than when I got you up from your nap. Did you know that?" I didn't, and I felt another cry coming on. "There, there, sweetheart. Don't worry. Mommy's not mad. I know you can't help it. I think you're worrying about keeping your pants dry is getting to be too much for you. You're just not ready yet." "I am," I whined. "No, honey, I don't think so. That's why Mommy got you some new diapers today. They're cloth and have Velcro. You'll be able to feel if you wet them, and Nana will be able to get them off in a hurry if she has to. I don't want you to worry about making it to the potty in time. Nana will take you when she thinks you should try, but if you wet your diaper, nobody is going to be mad. No more spankings for wet pants, doesn't that sound good?" Something in her logic felt wrong, but I found myself nodding in agreement. "We can try potty training again after a while, but for right now, I want you to relax and not think about it, okay? You just play and help Nana and Mommy when we ask. Will you do that for Mommy?" Kathy was being so nice about the whole thing, I just sniffled and nodded my ascent. She stood up and drew me into a hug that I could have stayed in forever. "Let's get you a nice tubby and then you can go night-night, okay?"
  14. Maggie was an 8-year-old girl, although her short and her very pampered behavior would never have been pronounced. She had red and very curly hair in twin tails and two dark green eyes in a face sprinkled with freckles. It was very terrible for her when her mother decided to abandon her to her sister Louise to leave with her new boyfriend on leave for who knows where, especially since she hasn't met her aunt since she was only two, and she didn't know nothing about her. She was now sitting on the porch of her aunt's house, very much fearing and sad one with only a suitcase with clothes, two red eyes for the crying, a letter from her mother pinned to her short skirt and a pair of very wet panties. (Unfortunately the person with witch I played this roleplay decided to abandon it? are there someone available to continue it? please contact me in private).
  15. Lucas was a 4 year old boy who lived in an orphanage until a new family adopted him. He was sat on the floor of the play room wearing only a pull up and a Tshirt while he was playing with his favorite toy machine when the social worker brought a woman and a teenage girl in front of him. "Hello Lucas" miss Claudia said him with a smile "they are your new mommy and your big sister". Lucas watched miss Claudia an then he raised his arms to be picked up by her new mommy. "oh! Why he don't wear the pants? I thought that he was ready" miss Claudia said when she nodded what he wore "I'm very sorry!" she said going to take a pair of that from another room while Lucas was taking the pacifier attacked to his Tshirt with a plastic chane. He did a shy smile to his big sister when he turned his eyes to her . (I'm searching someone who did the part of mother and sister . Please don't write two lines for answer but be descriptive)
  16. Last Sunday my husband Don and I had brunch with Judy, one of his younger cousins and her husband Phil. They know I have no bladder control. While the guys were in another room talking, Judy asked if it is true that my kink is getting romantic spankings. I had no clue how she would know that, but since it is true, I admitted as much. That was when Judy started telling me about the family which shared their back fence when she was growing up until her folks moved when she was 16. That family had a son named Warren who is a year older than Judy and a daughter Betty who is nearly a year younger than Judy. Blushing Judy admitted that she had been spanked several times a year by her mother, who was best friends with Betty and Warren's mom. Because of all that, those kids played at each other's homes virtually daily. To Judy it was weird that although Betty and Warren had bedrooms next to their parents' master bedroom was a spare room furnished with just a twin bed and a straight back chair. On that hall door was a professionally made sign "The Spanking Room". It was only used for punishment. A misbehaving sibling would be taken, or sent, to that room. That was where spankings by hand, hairbrush or strap were administered. A few times Judy misbehaved at that home. She was immediately taken to the Spanking Room for a session bare-bottom with a hairbrush. Often she was a guest when either or both siblings were spanked in that room.
  17. Aizawa Shouta was being lazy; he’d been fired from his latest job and since then was just lying around his house. His wife was nagging him about having a baby and complaining, asking if he lost his job. Typical woman. He simply tuned her out each time the baby conversation turned up, and never really told her he was fired because...well, all that got her off his back when he shrugged on his coat in the mornings was “I have to go to work”. Most days, he just went to a bar and got drunk. Sometimes he fucked a girl or two, maybe even let them top him depending on his mood. He was usually pretty sloppy anyway, getting stains on his ties and shirt collars, but he always managed to hide the evidence that he was cheating on his wife. Until today. He came inside reeking of alcohol and sex, tie missing, shirt collar undone to reveal that his neck was covered in purple hickeys, his stubble-covered face flushed and black hair hanging loose around his shoulders. His pants had an unusual sort of dark stain on the front, and he made no effort to hide it, too tired to care.
  18. 1950potty

    wet bottom

    I've read a few times in the past about being spanked with a wet bottom as being extra painful. If you have had this, does it seem worse? And how was it done? After a bath or.../ I have a hard time imagining how it would be done.
  19. If anyone lives near me I would give them a good spanking
  20. Gabriel has just broken a winery window and he had dropped a rope to into the house, the window was rather narrow but it was easy for him to go through it thanks his small size; being a little had some advantage after all. He didn’t know if someone was into home but in that case he had taken some countermeasures: He had a gun: It was a toy gun and pressing the trigger a flag with the word “bang” would have come out from the barrel. He had some firecrackers: he pretended some gun shots if it were necessary Some stadium smoke: that would be useful to cover an escape. They were cheap tricks but in the past they worked then he was very confident about them and his ability. He dropped with rope until the floor, and climbed the stairs of the winery getting to the door that opened easily accessing to the living room. He searched small objects that can be carried easily: he finded a silver frame with the photo a smiling old man on the small table. He removed and rested iton the table putting the frame in his backpack. Then he decided to take a ride around the house to see if there are something interesting: he opened a door seeing a giant nursery in the room. “I hope it’s not for a little” he said going to the next room, where he found a laptop on a big double bed. He had to climb hardly to reached it and put in the bag. Then he approached the bedside table and found a next generation smartphone, “today is my lucky day!” he said smiling and putting it in his bag, then opening every drawer where he found some cash. He went to the biggest drawers and with more difficulty opened the first drawer finding some jewelry “it’s fantastic!” he said putting everything in his bag. He decided to do another tour of the house to see if there was something else interesting but he heared the noise of the principal door that closed.
  21. Has anyone been on a spanking horse or spanking bench? What are your impressions of being on it?
  22. I write and sell spanking stories on Amazon under a pen name, several of which feature ABDL content. If you're interested, the link to my Amazon author page is below. If not, no biggie. Have a good day either way! S. V. Kerres Author Page
  23. This role play is about a adult girl who has agreed to become a baby for a couple that can not have any children.
  24. This role play is about a little girl who is named anna. Who travels back in time to the 1950's from the year 2018 and has to adapt.
  25. @YourFNF gave me this idea: "I've had this recurring fantasy about a girl who's mommy owns a tech startup and she's basically treated as a Little by the whole office...." and "Like I picture in one scene she's introduced to a new client who turns out to be daddy with his own little boy and is made to me mess herself.." I gathered from the verbiage that this was more than likely intended to be set in the diaper dimension, but I don't fuck around with that place, so I went a slightly different route. I sincerely hope my attempt is good in your eyes. I had fun writing something that someone else pitched, and will be doing it at least two more times in the near future for ideas from @Wannatripbaby and possibly @foofybabykitten, I say possibly because the idea was given on DA and the names are similar but I don't know for certain if they're the same person. Anyway, no one dies in this one, and there aren't any horrible things, just good old fashioned smut! Enjoy and leave a comment if you feel like it, shoot me a PM with story ideas you'd like to see written, I don't do commissions, so any idea you give me is free and such and such. Take Your Child To Work Day By: RambleLamb "This is stupid." Belinda grumped from the passenger seat of the car. "I don't see why I have to do this, I'm not a kid anymore." she added. Her mother sighed and reached over to gently rub her daughter's shoulder as the girl sat with her arms folded across her chest. "No one said you were a kid, Belle, but like it or not, you are my daughter and the head of the company should set an example by participating in things like this." she said. Belinda sighed, her pout turning into a sneer as she turned to glare at her mother. "Fine, but you are forbidden from calling me "Belle" while we're there." she spat. Her mother removed her hand from her daughter's shoulder. "I don't see what the big deal is, you used to love that nickname." she said, more than a little saddened by her daughter's negative attitude. Belinda scoffed. "Yeah, when I was four and loved Beauty and the Beast, mom." she said. "I'm in college now, not preschool." she added, turning her attention out her window to scowl at the world as it passed her by. Diana felt the anger rise up in her. "I think you mean that you were in college, Belle." she corrected. "Typically when you fail out of all your classes and have to move back to your parent's house they stop considering you a student." she added, hoping to quell her daughter's sour mood with a harsh dose of realism. Over the last two months Belinda had been dealing with the shame of having to move back in with her parents after spending too much time partying and not enough time studying and attending classes while away at college. With nothing but time on her hands as she'd been unable to find work, Belinda had more or less regressed to her teenage self, hanging out around the house and accomplishing next to nothing with her time. Her attitude had also taken a severe nosedive, this morning's tantrum just one of many over the last two months. When she'd gotten into an argument with her parents about her lack of a job, she'd told her mother that, as the owner of the small but quite successful tech startup company, she should just give her a job which brought them back to the subject of her failure at school and her mother pointing out that she wasn't going to give her a job just because she was the owner and Belinda was her daughter. When the subject of the "take your child to work" day came up Belinda had rejected the idea, but Diana was steadfast in her decision and offered to treat it as a day long interview, to see if Belinda could handle being a secretary or personal assistant and if she could she'd be allowed to interview for the position with all the other potential candidates and if she truly was the best for the job then she'd have it. Belinda viewed it as a secret way for her mother to give her a job but make it look like she wasn't doing so because she was Belinda's mother, and finally consented to going to work with her mother for the day. The morning had started off on the wrong foot to begin with, Belinda having neglected to set her alarm the night before as her mother had told her to do, and then whining and complaining about how early it was when her mother had come in to wake her while she was getting herself ready for the day. All of this culminated in Belinda rushing her shower, not bothering to wash her hair, and throwing on her favorite t-shirt and jeans without considering that maybe the fact that she'd picked them up off her bedroom floor, but with them already running behind, her mother begrudgingly said nothing to her daughter as they made their way to the car. "Look, Belle, I know you're having a tough time right now, but if you made a little bit of an effort to present yourself as an adult-" her mother had begun to say before her daughter had turned to face her. "Are you fucking kidding me, mom?! How am I supposed to present myself as an adult when I'm sleeping in my old bedroom and having to answer to you and dad like a fucking child?!" Belinda snapped, her eyes wide with anger and brimming with hot tears of frustration and embarrassment. The car pulled to a stop in the parking garage and Diana squealed to a stop in her spot before getting out of the car and moving to Belinda's side where she threw the door open and reached inside to unbuckle her daughter's seatbelt. "What the fuck are you doing?!" Belinda screamed, the cry ringing out in the parking garage. "Something I should have been doing from the start." Diana responded through gritted teeth as she pulled her daughter from the car by the wrist and yanked her to the front of the car where her latent maternal skills came back in full force as she bent Belinda over the hood and tugged her pants down, sighing when she saw her daughter had failed to put on underwear, and proceeded to deliver a dozen sharp swats to the girl's exposed backside, the cracks echoing off the walls and ceiling quickly joined by the desperate and humiliated cries of her daughter. "Fucking stop, mom, what the fuck?!" Belinda screamed as her pants were pulled down, followed by strings of profanity that rapidly devolved into pleading and further devolved until she was genuinely crying. Diana stopped after she was sure the message had gotten through and righted her daughter before throwing her arms around the girl and hugging her tightly. "I hope you realize that that was for your own good, Belle." she said quietly to her sobbing daughter, feeling the motion of the girl gently rubbing her stinging backside. "I told you not to call me that!" Belle whined between sobs, trying to pull free of her mother. Diana broke her embrace and looked her daughter square in the eyes, the younger and, at the moment, far more vulnerable woman trying to look away but having her chin gripped gently but firmly to hold her gaze in place. "I will call you Belinda when you act like my college aged daughter, until then, I think Belle is a very fitting name, wouldn't you agree, sweetie?" she asked, her tone soft and maternal but only slightly covering the seriousness and authority that she was exerting over her daughter. Belle sniffled. "I'm sorry, please give me another chance!" she pleaded as her tears rolled down her cheeks. Diana bent forward and pulled her daughter's pants up for her, the girl wincing and crying out in pain as the denim rubbed across her reddened backside. "If you can prove to me today that you're ready to be Belinda then I'll forget this ever happened." she said. Belle nodded. "Thank you." she said quietly. "But." Diana added. "If you fail to prove to me that you're ready to be an adult and that you're serious about wanting a job then your father and I are going to have to discuss what we're going to do with you." she said. Belle swallowed hard and nodded again. "I'll show you, I promise." she said. Diana kissed her daughter's forehead and went to the glovebox for some tissues to give the girl. "Dry your eyes and compose yourself and we'll head inside, okay?" she asked. Belle took the tissues and wiped her eyes, blowing her nose a few times before she handed the package of tissues back to her mother before they made their way into the office. Unbeknownst to either woman, Diana's parking space was situated right next to a security camera, and unbeknownst to either woman, said camera and the person watching the cameras had seen the whole show that Diana and her daughter had put on. ************************************************************************ "Belle, this is Patty, she's in charge of making sure everyone that visits gets a badge and finds their way around okay." Diana told her daughter as they stood before a girl that couldn't have been much older than Belle herself, though in comparison, Patty in her smart and professional looking business outfit consisting of a long black skirt and a modest blouse accompanying her high heels whereas Belle looked like she'd just rolled out of bed and was on her way to high school. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Belle!" Patty chirped happily. Belle held her tongue at having this girl use her childish nickname and feigned a smile. "It's nice to meet you too, Patty." she said. "I have to get to my office and check my schedule for the day, but Patty will show you around and get you set up and then I'll come find you so we can start your trial run, okay, sweetie?" Diana asked. Belle nodded and watched her mother depart, thankful that she might be able to salvage some of her adulthood without her around. "Okay, Belle, here's your visitor badge." Patty said as she clipped the laminated badge to Belle's shirt without asking. "That badge will let you into any door that has a blue circle above it." she explained, pointing to the blue circle above the door Belle and her mother had entered through. Belle again feigned a smile. "Thanks, Patty." she said. "Anytime, kiddo!" Patty chirped. "Now, why don't we take a quick tour and then we'll get you set up with the other kids." she said. "Other kids?" Belle asked. Patty nodded. "Oh yeah, we've got about seven of you guys visiting here today!" she said as she started walking away, beginning the previously mentioned tour. "First stop is the restroom, I know my other little tour goers needed that before we really started exploring." she said with a warm smile. Belle rolled her eyes. "I think I'll be fine, Patty." she said. "Why don't you just point me in the direction of my mom's office and I'll hang out there until she's ready for me." she added. Patty's smile faded. "No can do, kiddo, all the kids need to stay in room 1A until their parents come and get them." she said. "I'll take you there now if you don't want the grand tour though." she added, her perky tone replaced by one of fake sincerity as she had already had her fill of her boss's bratty daughter mere minutes after meeting her. "Fine." Belle said simply and followed Patty down the long hall to a boardroom, her eyes widening in disbelief as she saw half a dozen or so children inside playing with various toys. The oldest one in the room didn't look like he was more than twelve while the youngest looked to be about three or four, a distinct bulge beneath the stretchy pants she wore beneath her ladybug print dress. "Nope, no fucking way am I going in there." Belle said bluntly. Patty ignored her and ran her badge over the reader, causing the door to slide open and the full volume within the room to come blaring out. "Have fun, kiddo." she said as she gave Belle a small push into the room just before the door slid closed. Belle turned and banged on the door, reaching for her badge and running it over the reader inside the room, getting a sharp buzz and a red light for her efforts. After five more tries she noticed Patty pointing upward and looked above the door to see a green square rather than a blue circle. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." she said. "You said a swear, I'm telling!" a young boy behind her exclaimed. Belle rolled her eyes and turned around. "Go ahead and tell, you little booger eater!" she shouted, causing many of the kids to gasp and the young boy to begin crying. Belle sighed and moved to him, kneeling down in front of him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I'm sorry, buddy, please don't cry." she said, less concerned about the boy and more concerned that her mother would find out she'd already failed their agreement. "Leave me alone!" the boy wailed and shoved her hard in the chest. Given her current position, Belle was almost powerless to keep from falling backward onto her butt, the pain of the impact on her still tender backside bringing a cry of pain and a welling of tears to her eyes. "Jeez, you gonna cry because you got pushed by a kid half your size?" the oldest boy in the room asked with a scoff. Belle wiped her eyes. "Shut up, it just surprised me is all." she said, sounding very much like one of the younger children in the room rather than the adult she actually was. The boy nodded. "Whatever you say, crybaby." he said and turned his attention back to his phone. Belle fumed and got up from the floor, marching over to him and slapping the phone from his hands, sending it tumbling across the floor under the table in the center of the room. The boy stood up from his chair and proved to be nearly a head taller than Belle. "Pick it up." he commanded angrily as he stared her down. Belle felt her face flush as she turned to look for the phone, hoping this boy wasn't the type to hit girls when they made him angry. She lowered herself onto her knees and looked beneath the table, seeing the phone a few feet away in front of her and moving on her hands and knees toward it to reach out and pick it up. The door beeped and Patty entered suddenly, the sound of the beep and the door opening startling Belle and causing her to lift up and bang her head on the table, biting her tongue in the process. Yelping in both surprise and pain, Belle crawled forward the rest of the way and found herself looking up at Patty, meeting the standing woman's eyes and looking down as her face went red. "Well, I'm glad to see you're fitting in with the other children so well, Belle." Patty praised, her tone soft and kind, befitting an adult talking to a child. Belle stood up and glared at Patty, the insinuation that not only was she just like the other children but that she was also playing with them annoying her beyond what she could tolerate without speaking up. "Lithen hewe-" Belle began but abruptly stopped, clamping her hand over her mouth in surprise at the childish lisp she'd developed from biting her tongue. Patty covered her own mouth to stifle a laugh at what she'd just heard. "Yes, Belle? You were saying?" she cooed in mock sincerity. Belle fumed. "Thtop tawking do me wike I'm thum dumb kid!" she yelled. "Listen here, Belle, you will not raise your voice to me like that again, if you want to talk to me you can use your inside voice like a good girl." Patty said condescendingly. Belle growled and started to say something but Patty cast an icy stare her way and she instantly quieted. "I think you should apologize for your little tantrum, Belle." Patty told her. "Not just to me, but to your friends as well." Belle's expression soured and she shook her head. "I'm noth apowogizing thoo thum dumb kidth!" she spat. Patty nodded decisively. "Fine, then you can come with me and have a nice timeout to think about your behavior, young lady." she said as she reached out and took Belle by the hand firmly and began to tug her along behind her. "Hey, lemme go!" Belle squealed and pulled against Patty's iron grip, her shoes still sliding on the carpet of the meeting room as she fought against the stronger woman. Patty had had enough and released her hold of Belle sending the girl tumbling backward into the table, the edge hitting the backs of her thighs causing her to roll onto it and over it to the other side where she fell to the floor square on butt, a blinding white flash of hot pain jolting through her body the instant her spank damaged bottom connected with the unforgiving surface of thinly carpeted concrete. Belle wailed in pain, tears forming in her eyes instantly as they began to cascade down her cheeks. Patty sighed and rolled her eyes. "Good grief, Belle, I've seen toddlers that are less crybaby than you." she chided as she went around the table and stood above the sobbing girl with her legs splayed out in front of her and, looking down disapprovingly for a moment before kneeling down and putting her hands beneath the crying girl's armpits to hoist her to her feet. Belle's thoughts were spinning out of control as she was helped to her feet, she couldn't stop crying no matter how hard she wanted to, the pain in her bottom was almost too much to handle. She felt Patty take her by the hand and shuffled along behind her as she wiped her eyes and continued to cry. "Kids, I need to take care of Belle, but I'll be right back with some snacks for you guys, okay?" Patty said to the group of children after scanning her badge and opening the door. "Are you gonna make Belle take a nap?" one of the younger children asked innocently. "My mommy makes me take a nap when I throw tantrums." the little girl added. Patty looked at Belle thoughtfully and then turned back to the room. "You don't worry about Belle, we'll get her calmed down and then I'll bring her back here so she can apologize for being so disruptive." she explained. "In the meantime, thank you all for being so well behaved." she added before leading Belle from the room. As they walked down the hall Belle found it difficult to walk normally as her bottom throbbed and tingled with every step and she found it easier to walk in short little steps, shuffling her feet to avoid the flashes of pain that came with lifting her feet and bringing them down on the floor. "Someone told me an interesting story about you after I put you in the playroom." Patty said as she pulled Belle down the hall past the many cubicles and offices. "They told me that they saw you get quite a spanking from your mommy in the parking garage this morning." she continued, sure that Belle wasn't likely to engage in conversation as she was still sniffling and choking back sobs. Belle's blood ran cold. "Thumwon thaw dat?!" she lisped in a hushed whisper. Patty nodded. "Saw and recorded." she clarified as they reached her desk and she turned to face Belle. "Now, if you want that video to stay a secret, I think you need to work on doing a much better job of being a good girl for the rest of the time you're here." she said. Belle wanted to fight, but not at the risk of a video of her being spanked by her mother finding its way onto the internet or worse, her own social media pages. "I'wl be good." she said quietly. Patty nodded. "A smart choice, but we'll see if you can actually manage it." she said as she gave Belle's head a gentle pat and took the girl by the hand once again and continued on to the break room where she went to the fridge and pulled out a small stack of plastic containers and handed them to Belle. "You carry those and I'll get the drinks." she said. Belle took the containers and watched Patty grab a plastic bag containing a large bottle of soda, a jug of grape juice, and small pink lunch bag and then went to the cabinet and grabbed a small stack of plastic cups. "Now, when we get back to the playroom you're going to apologize to the other children for being a brat and serve them their snacks and once you've done that you'll sit on the floor like a good girl and eat your snacks, do you understand?" Patty asked. Belle blushed and nodded, completely humiliated but powerless to fight, choosing to agree and obediently follow behind Patty back to the playroom, entering the room after Patty unlocked the door. "Kids, Belle has something she'd like to say to you all." Patty said as the door closed behind them. Belle blushed again and looked down at the floor. "Thowwy fo being a bwat." she said quietly. "What?!" the oldest boy in the room called out as he put a hand to his ear. "Speak up, Belle." Patty commanded as she gave Belle a sharp swat on the behind. Belle yelped and almost dropped the containers in her hands as she jumped in surprise and pain. "Pweath fogib me fo being a bwat!" she squealed. The children nodded and all confirmed they forgave her and Patty smiled and patted Belle on the head. "Good girl, now set those down on the table before you drop them and I'll give you things to take to everyone." she said. Belle flushed and set the containers down on the table and stood silently as she watched Patty open the containers and pull out carrot and celery sticks, apple slices, a chocolate chip cookie to place them in a napkin and hand them to Belle. With the snack portion handed to her, Patty poured some grape juice into one of the plastic cups and handed it to Belle. "Juice goes to the little kids and soda goes to David because he's the oldest." she explained and gave Belle a gentle nudge to get her going. Belle moved to the end of the table in her same shuffling baby steps, watching the juice in the cup slosh around, worrying what Patty would do if she spilled any. "Set it on the table, Belle, little ones need to sit at the table for snack time." Patty told her as she prepared another snack and drink combo for Belle to take upon her return. Belle performed her task over and over until all the younger children were seated at the table with their snacks and juice, David, having come and gotten his own, was seated off in the corner looking at his phone while he ate. With her duties complete, Belle returned to Patty and waited for her own snack and drink and frowned when she was handed a cup of grape juice and led to a seat at the table. "Thith ith whath the withle kidth are having though." Belle protested. Patty nodded. "I think that with the way you've been acting today you're much closer in maturity to them over David." she replied bluntly. "Truth be told, I probably should have given you a sippy cup like Athena." she added, gesturing to the youngest girl in the room as she sucked down her juice from the princess themed pink sippy cup. Belle looked up at Patty with a scowl. "I'm not a baby!" she declared, sounding all too similar to a young child arguing their status to an adult after doing something that proved otherwise. "No?" Patty asked. "So, you haven't been a whiny brat all day? You weren't crawling on the floor when I came in here to get you to help me get the snacks? You haven't cried because you fell down on your bottom?" she asked and leaned in to whisper into Belle's ear. "You didn't get the spanking you obviously deserve and probably need a proper reminder of?" she asked. Belle seethed and shot up from her seat, slamming her hands down on the table in rage thinking Patty would finally understand that she'd had enough of this and was demanding to be treated like the adult woman that she was, but as she brought her hands down onto the table, her juice cup bounced toward her and spilled grape juice onto the bottom of her shirt and down the crotch and leg of her jeans creating a small pool on the gray carpet below. Patty sighed and went to grab several napkins,shoving them into Belle's hand. "Clean up that mess, young lady and then you're coming with me, I've had just about enough of your behavior today." she growled. Belle began wiping off the table and soaking up what she could from the floor before Patty grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the door. "David, please watch the kids while I handle this." she asked the oldest boy who had a wicked smirk on his face as he watched Belle awkwardly try and cover her stained pants. "Yes, ma'am, take as much time as you need." he said politely. Once through the door, Patty turned to face Belle. "What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?" she asked in exasperation. Belle tried to look away but had her chin grabbed and her gaze guided back to Patty's. "I-" she started to say but was cut off. "Save it!" Patty shouted. "You and I are going straight to your mother to explain what a colossal brat you are." she proclaimed as she roughly grabbed Belle's hand and began to drag her along behind her. "No, pleathe donth!" Belle protested, cursing the fact that her tongue was still swollen from biting it earlier. Patty turned and faced her again. "And why shouldn't I?" she asked. Belle was starting to cry again. "I'm thowwy! Pweathe give me anotha chance, I'wl do anything!" she pleaded. Patty looked at her watch. "It's time for my lunch." she said. "If I use my personal lunch time to take you shopping for clean clothes do you promise to do everything I say and not argue with me no matter what?" she asked. Belle nodded and wiped her tears away. "I promith." she said. "If you do argue with me, for any reason whatsoever I will not only drag you right back here and dump you off in your mother's office, but you'll also get another spanking that will make the one your mother gave you feel like a tickle party." Patty threatened. "Am I understood, little girl?" she asked. Belle nodded again, cringing at being called a little girl and at the thought of being spanked by someone so close to her own age. "Yeth, ma'am." she said sullenly. "Good, then let's go." Patty said as she took Belle by the hand once more and led her to her desk to get her purse and then to the parking garage to her car. ************************************************************************ In the backseat of Patty's car, Belle watched the world outside, wondering why all of this was happening to her, cursing Patty and her mother for treating her like a child and looking disdainfully down at her stained clothes, angry that the table had been so flimsy that it couldn't manage to keep her drink cup on it after a little bang of her hands. Patty drove them in silence to a big box store and pulled into the parking lot before getting out and opening Belle's door for her, the child safety locks preventing her from doing so herself and took the girl by the hand once more. "You don't need to hold my hand." Belle told her, smiling as she realized her tongue had finally returned to normal and was allowing her to speak like an adult again. Patty stopped. "Strike one, Belle." she said coldly as she grabbed a cart from the nearby cart return. "Get in." she said simply. Belle looked at her incredulously but stayed still. "One." Patty said, placing her hands on her hips. Belle furrowed her brow, not understanding until Patty continued. "Two." Patty said. Belle looked at the cart and then to Patty. "You can't be serious." she said. "Two and a half." Patty continued, the look on her face deadly serious. Belle sighed and climbed up and into the cart, gingerly sitting in the large basket area before Patty took hold of the bar in front and nodded to her before pushing the cart forward to the entrance of the store. "From now on, resistance will be met with further reduction of status and privilege, young lady." Patty said. "I can't spank you here in the store, but I can make sure you understand that your actions have consequences." she added as they drove through the sliding doors and into the store. Belle sat glumly in the cart, avoiding looking up to see the face of people they passed, sure that everyone was staring at her, hoping no one was taking pictures of the grown woman riding in the cart like a child. The cart stopped in the Women's section and Patty looked at the clothes on the rack, modest skirts like hers mostly before Belle took notice and sighed. "Can I just have another shirt and jeans?" she asked. Patty grabbed the bar of the cart and moved out of the area and into the Girl's section to look at shirts appropriate for a high school aged girl. "These clothes are so ugly!" Belle moaned. Patty sighed and drove the cart further into the section, looking at more juvenile styles. "Nothing here will even fit me!" Belle whined as she looked around at the clothes on the racks meant for girls on the cusp of tweenhood. Patty looked down at Belle and just shook her head in disappointment as she pushed the cart to the back of the store and down the aisle dedicated to baby supplies. "Where are you taking us?!" Belle asked loudly. Patty stopped the cart and plucked a package from the little peg hook to her right and ripped it open before going to the side of the cart and pushing the item in her hand into Belle's mouth. Belle reached up to pull the pacifier from her mouth but had her hand slapped away by Patty. "If that leaves your mouth before I give you permission to take it out, you'll be standing in front of your mother when we get back to the office with a diaper on over your blistered butt, little girl." she threatened. Belle looked up at her with wide eyes and found only a stern and serious face looking down at her which made her shudder from fear and quietly suck the pacifier. Patty nodded, tossing the opened package into the cart. "I finally found the solution to my noise problem." she said smugly as she returned to the front of the cart and began pushing it again, turning around and driving back to the previous section to look at the juvenile clothing while Belle fumed with her arms folded across her chest. Several items were put into the cart beside her, Belle looking at the bright colors and prints with growing rage as she bit down on the pacifier bulb and glared up at Patty. The item that sent her over the edge was a light yellow pair of footed pajamas with Belle the princess on them, causing the real world Belle to climb over the side of the cart and spit the pacifier out. "This is fucking bullshit, I'm out of here!" she shouted. In one smooth motion Patty had grabbed her arm and dragged her to where the pacifier had landed, picking it up and stuffing it back into Belle's mouth before dragging her off to the restrooms, the errant woman behind her thrashing against the pull futilely as she again spit the pacifier out and was screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs causing everyone they passed to take notice. Patty led them to the women's restroom and shoved the door open with a loud bang before hauling her charge to the counter and bending her over it where she tugged her pants down and began smacking the still red cheeks beneath with all her might and fury. Patty punctuated each of her words with a smack followed by a yelp of pain from Belle. "You." SMACK "Will." SMACK "Learn." SMACK "To." SMACK "Behave." SMACK "And." SMACK "Do." SMACK "As." SMACK "You're." SMACK "Told." SMACK Belle was a blubbering mess by the last blow, her legs shaky as she bawled and lay with her top half limp on the countertop as Patty shook the sting out of her hand and tried to catch her breath. She knelt down and removed Belle's shoes, socks and pants entirely and dragged the girl to the handicapped stall. "I'm going to finish shopping for you, and you're going to stay right here until I'm done and when I come back we're going to get you dressed and take you back to the office." Patty explained as she took the bundle of clothes with her and left the bathroom, throwing the garments in the trashcan outside before making her way back to where she'd left the cart. Belle stood in the stall whimpering and sobbing naked from the waist down and wishing she could just run away or disappear altogether. Her butt was on fire, the sting causing her to wince each time she shifted her weight when the cold tiles became uncomfortable on her bare feet. The door opened again a short time later and Patty made her way to the stall with two bags in hand and a package beneath her arm. "Alright, Belle, unless you want another spanking you'll let me get you dressed without a fuss." she said as she set the bags down and pulled another pacifier from one and held it up in front of Belle. "Take this and put it in your mouth to show me that you're ready to behave." she said simply. Belle took the pacifier and begrudgingly slipped it into her mouth, sucking it sullenly as she watched Patty retrieve several items from the bag and go to the package on the floor. Belle whimpered when she saw the diaper come out of the pack, its pristine white plastic seeming to glow under the florescent lights of the bathroom. Patty took her by the hand and led her to the baby changing station secured to the wall and opened it to let the table down and laid out a plastic mat from one of the bags, patting it to beckon Belle onto it. Belle climbed on, sure that the table would snap off and send her to the floor but as she lay down she found herself looking up at Patty from her new position, not falling and not hearing the breaking of plastic and bolts. Patty went to work wiping Belle's sensitive flesh, dragging the cool wipe over the red bottom of her charge slowly, bringing soft mewling sounds of contentment from the girl. The diaper was unfolded and slid under Belle's bottom before a flurry of powder began to coat her private parts and the diaper was brought up between her legs and taped firmly around her waist. Helping the girl off the table, Patty smiled and allowed herself a chuckle seeing a girl not much younger than her sucking a pacifier with a bulky diaper peeking out below her shirt. Belle checked out mentally after the diapering began, choosing to escape to a place in her mind where none of this was happening to her and she was having fun with her friends or enjoying her adulthood somewhere rather than having a diaper put on her by a woman she'd met only a short time ago in a public restroom while she sucked on a pacifier. "Arms up." Patty commanded suddenly, bringing her out of her blissful world of make believe and back to reality. Belle lifted her arms and had her shirt lifted off her, followed by her bra, the horrible secret of the secret padding within the cups finally revealed, allowing Patty the opportunity at another wave of laughter at her expense when she saw the flatness of her chest and her puffy pink nipples that she covered with her hands. Patty went back to the bags and pulled out the yellow pajamas Belle had lost her cool over before and unzipped them and helped Belle guide her feet into. Belle smirked despite herself, confident that Patty had wasted her money and would find that the pajamas wouldn't fit and she'd have to go find her more age appropriate clothing, but as the pajamas began to slide up her body she became less and less confident she'd see that outcome, and once her arms went into the sleeves and the zipper began to come up, she felt tears start to roll down her cheeks as she her fate was sealed with the zipper stopping below her chin. She felt Patty messing with her hair and knew after the pink ribbons came out that she was affixing her locks into pigtails to maximize her humiliation. "There!" Patty proclaimed as she took Belle by the hand and led her to the mirror, the rustling of her diaper beneath her pajamas faint but unmistakable in the quiet bathroom. Belle began to cry in earnest as she saw herself, the bulge of her diaper beneath her infantile pajamas coupled with her new hairstyle making her look like an overgrown toddler ready for a nap rather than a college aged woman ready for a life of independence. Patty turned Belle to face her and hugged the crying girl, rubbing her back softly. "Shh, it's okay, Belle, I promise to take good care of you." she whispered and gave the girl's crinkly bottom a few gentle pats. Belle found herself feeling comforted by the hug, and despite her resentment and hatred of Patty, found herself wrapping her arms around the woman and hugging her back as she continued to cry and suck her pacifier. Before they left the bathroom, Patty affixed a clip and tether to Belle's pacifier and clipped it to her pajamas. Grabbing the bags and the package of diapers before leading the girl out of the bathroom and back to the car. ************************************************************************ The stares and laughter from the people they'd passed on the way out to the car had turned Belle into a sobbing mess, adding credence to the belief that she was a little girl in desperate need of a nap rather than a grown woman being humiliated against her will. By the time they reached the parking garage of her mother's office, Belle had mostly calmed down, but was nervously sucking her pacifier at the thought of her mother seeing her this way, but the only thing that kept her from panicking was the shred of hope that her mother would be so irate with Patty's treatment of her that she'd fire the girl right then and there and apologize to Belle for her having to endure such abuse. Belle was retrieved from the car and led by the hand once more, forced to carry the open package of diapers in her free hand, into the building and to the room with the kids where she was unceremoniously nudged in. "I'm going to go have a meeting with your mommy, Belle, play nice until I come back." Patty said through the closing door, leaving Belle in the room with a growing assortment of giggles behind her. "Well, she really did handle you, didn't she?" David said as he got up and walked toward her. Belle was sure that David hadn't been so much taller than her when she'd seen him last, but with him standing in front of her now, she felt like she was the child and he was the adult and all she could do was blush and nod as she sucked her pacifier. David reached behind her and patted her bottom, the crinkle of her diaper seeming impossibly loud in the small room. "Wow, she even put a diaper on you, you must really be a baby." he said with a guffaw. The chant of "Baby Belle, Baby Belle, how bad do her diapers smell?" began from nowhere and reached such a fever pitch that Belle didn't even have time to realize she was crying and had slumped down to the floor before she was looking up at David as he towered above her. "Don't cry, baby." he said and knelt down where he proceeded to start tickling her under her armpits and on her sides as she tried to wriggle out of his reach. Belle hated to be tickled, but her peals of laughter did little to convey that as she fell to her back and squirmed against the stronger boy's assault, gasping for air and giggling as she felt her bladder let go into the thick absorbent material of her diaper making her cry out in despair and begin to cry altogether to which David calmly put her pacifier back into her mouth to silence. The door behind her beeped and opened and she looked up, on her back crying and sucking on her pacifier wearing babyish princess footed pajamas and a still swelling diaper beneath to see her mother and Patty looking down at her. "Belinda May Prescott!" her mother exclaimed. "I didn't believe Patty when she told me that you'd wet yourself and had to be taken to the store for new clothes and picked out the most infantile thing you could fit into, but seeing is believing!" she shouted angrily. Belle looked up at Patty and scowled. "She wyin'!" she said with her pacifier still bobbing between her lips. "Get up this instant!" her mother snapped. Belle did as she was told and yelping as she was grabbed by the wrist and pulled to her mother where she found a hand being pressed into the sodden padding of the crotch of her diaper through her pajamas. "It certainly feels like she's telling the truth." her mother said before unzipping Belle's pajamas and exposing the yellowed diaper beneath. "And it definitely looks like she's telling the truth." she added, poking a finger into the leg gather of the diaper and looking at Belle with disappointment and shock. "So, my daughter flunks out of college and decides she'd rather play baby than accept her adult responsibilities, well, I can't say I'm surprised with the way you've been acting lately, but I'm still incredibly disappointed in you, Belle." she added. Belle began to cry again as her pajamas were zipped back up. "I din wan dis, mommy!" she pleaded. "That's quite enough out of you, young lady." her mother said sharply, shooting a gaze at her daughter that probably would have induced another wetting had she not just emptied herself. "Patty, I am so sorry for my daughter's behavior today, I'll make sure you're well compensated for having to play babysitter instead of being able to do your actual job." her mother said. "It was really no trouble, Mrs. Prescott, a little strange, certainly, but no trouble at all." Patty said politely. Belle's mother sighed. "Well, I'll take Belle into my meeting so you can go back to your normal routine." she said, grabbing her daughter's wrist. "Say thank you to Ms. Patricia for taking care of you today." she commanded her daughter. Belle hung her head. "Fank oo fo tagin' cawe'a me, Mish Patwicha." she mumbled quietly around her pacifier. "Anytime, cutie." Patricia said with wink and a knowing smile as she reached out and pinched Belle's cheek. Belle was led down the hall to her mother's office and told to sit quietly on the floor which she did without question and watched as her mother sat behind her desk and organized some papers on her desk before a knock on the door got both of their attentions. Belle looked at the tall man in the suit with the young boy in tow and gave a quizzical look to Belle before her mother went to him and drew his attention. "Mr. Atkins, welcome, and who's this?" her mother asked as she knelt down to greet the boy. "This is my son, Davis." Mr. Atkins said. "It's nice to meet you, Davis, my name is Diana and that's my daughter, Belle." her mother said, shaking the boy's hand politely and gesturing to Belle. Mr. Atkins smiled politely at Belle. "Is she special needs?" he asked, taking a moment to try and find the most tactful way to phrase his question. Her mother shook her head. "No, she's decided that she'd rather be a baby than a grown woman, so a baby she can be." she explained dismissively as she led the pair to her desk and gestured them to the seats in front of it. "Davis, why don't you go play with Belle while daddy has his meeting." Mr. Atkins said with a gentle nudge to his son in the direction of the overgrown toddler on the other side of the room. Belle stewed as she sat on the floor with Davis. Her mother carried on her meeting like nothing was out of the ordinary and Belle found that her diaper had cooled and was now becoming uncomfortable. None of this was fair, she wasn't supposed to be where she was now, she was supposed to be in college having parties and making questionable life choices, not wondering when she'd be let out of her wet diaper! Her mother had known that the diaper was wet before taking her to her office, yet she hadn't even offered her the chance to change out of it, if she was supposed to be a baby why wasn't she being taken care of like one and having her diaper changed? What if she got a rash? The more she thought about it, the more angry she got, and she decided that if her mother and everyone else wanted her to be a baby then they were going to have to deal with taking care of her needs for her. Belle rose from her seated position on the floor and got into a squat, looking at her mother as she talked to Mr. Atkins with as much defiance and rebellion as she could manage in her footed pajamas and pacifier in her mouth, and began to push, her grunting getting the attention of the two adults and of the younger but obviously more mature boy as they all watched her fill her diaper. ***************************One Year Later***************************** "I'm surprised to see you again, Belle, I hope you're going to be better behaved than you were last time you were here." Patty said sweetly. Belle smiled at her and nodded softly. "Yes, Miss. Patricia." she replied politely. "Good!" Patricia declared. Belle's mother handed the large pink bag with Belle's favorite princess emblazoned on the side over to Patty. "She'll be a perfect angel for you, won't you, Belle?" her mother asked as she gave her daughter's hand a gentle but firm squeeze. Belle nodded again. "Yes, mommy, I be good girl." she assured her mother. Patty took the bag and set it on her desk. "Not ready for the potty just yet, Belle?" she asked the girl. Belle shook her head. "No, ma'am, Miss. Patricia." she said sheepishly, the warmth in her diaper only now registering after a year of being denied access to a toilet. "Well, I'm sure you'll be ready some day." Patricia said warmly as she leaned forward and booped the tip of Belle's nose with her finger. Belle's mother scoffed. "With as often as she needs changing, I wouldn't hold my breath." she said. Belle blushed and grabbed for her pacifier where it hung clipped to the strap of her pink corduroy shortalls and put it into her mouth, sucking on it softly to calm herself. Beneath the cartoon sun decal on the bib of her overalls was a purple shirt with Belle the princess on it. The shirt stretched down beneath her overalls and buttoned over her thick diaper, keeping it from sagging as it bulged under the snaps on the inner thighs of her shortalls. On her feet were frilly ankle socks inside pink velcro shoes with Belle the princess smiling on the side of those as well. Patty took the girl's hand gently and picked up the diaper bag from her desk. "Wave bye bye to mommy!" she cooed. Belle waved to her mother and murmured a tiny "bye bye, mommy" through her pacifier before beginning to follow behind Patty. "After all the trouble you gave us last year, your mother decided that it was probably best to open up a daycare center for everyone to bring their children to." Patty explained as she led Belle down a long hall and through a door with a blue circle on it. "Whewe's mah baj?" Belle asked as she toddled behind the older woman. Patty laughed. "Oh, sweetie, babies don't get badges, that's only for grownups." she chided. "Are you a grownup, Belle?" she asked. Belle thought back to the events of the morning, her father coming into her nursery and giving her a bottle of juice to drink while he changed her out of her soaked overnight diaper and got her into a nice dry one and dressed her for the day before putting her in her highchair so she could eat her oatmeal that he spoonfed her. Once her messy bib was removed she was put in her playpen while her mother finished getting ready, she remembered giggling at the cartoons daddy had put on for her and the silly noises her toys made as she played with them. The ride in the carseat had almost put her back to sleep, but she'd seen puppies being walked outside and had prattled on about them to her mommy the remainder of the trip. Now, with her diaper warming once again, without her knowledge or consent, Belle could only shake her head. "You're a baby, aren't you, Belle?" Patty asked as she opened another door and led Belle into the daycare. Belle sucked her pacifier and began to nod as she bent her knees and began to push, filling the seat of her diaper with her morning mess, the bulk straining against the interior of her diaper and finding room to fit only barely as she grunted softly behind her pacifier. As Patty and the daycare worked discussed Belle and openly mocked the adult woman turned diaper filling infant, Belle decided to toddle over to the play area, fell down, and finished her journey on hands and knees thinking how fun it was as she sat down on her squishy bottom that she could go to work with her mommy.
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