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  1. The day that chang everything Chapter 1 Ever since Alex was young, he felt a solid connection to diapers. This fascination has been with him for many years, from early childhood when he was jealous to see other children with diapers when he was in kindergarten. Alex never dared to purchase until he turned twelve years old, and that first purchase was a trip to the store to buy Pampers, and what a rush of humiliation and excitement it gave him. That feeling made an indescribable feeling, something he had never felt before. As Alex grew older, he went on his first visit to the pharmacy and purchased his first pack of honest adult diapers; the same rush came once again. The biggest rush and humiliation he experienced was when he returned to the pharmacy, and the pharmacist woman asked directly, “Did it fit?” He is 38 years old and has a steady job and a family but no nappy play. His wife knew about this fetish but was never interested in playing with it, but then everything turned around. This is his story. ———————— It was a typical day in the office, and after working for more than 12 years in the same company, he had perfected his job. His primary responsibilities involved overseeing and assigning tasks to two incredibly talented colleagues, Bea and Tim. However, a minor issue arose with Bea, as she consistently tended to have things go her way. Although this was generally acceptable due to her exceptional job performance, her approach seemed to indicate a possible attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) or a similar condition, as she worked at an impressively fast pace. Additionally, Bea was quite assertive and rarely admitted to being wrong. Despite several discussions aimed at resolving these issues, he didn't allow it to affect their working relationship significantly. One day, his longing for the nappy became overwhelming, consuming his thoughts with intensity. Sometimes, he felt the nappy between his legs, bringing out humiliating feelings. He got so caught up in the sense of what he was wearing that the danger of making mistakes became closer. It's easy to become careless in such moments, and that is what happened. Throughout the entire week, Alex consistently wore a good, neatly pressed nappy to work. He changed it twice a day, ensuring it did not remain noticeable. While engrossed in his routine tasks, he felt a sudden tap on the outside of his jeans, followed by a small pat. Startled, he widened his eyes and slowly turned around to see who it was. It was an utterly surprising moment when he saw Bea approaching. Her smile was wide, reaching from ear to ear, and her gaze felt like it could see right through Alex. She whispered, leaning close to his ear, sending shivers down his spine. With a broad smile, she beckoned, "Hello, my little friend. Join me in your office. We need to talk." They walked into the office with his body trembling. He couldn't help but wonder what he had done. She knew it, and he was at a loss for words. Should he explain that he needed to use them because of a handicap? As he entered, his anxiety grew, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the noise from his diaper was drowning out everything else. As he walked over to his desk to sit, she suddenly closed his office door, catching him off guard. Just as Alex was about to sit down, he heard the sharp snap of her fingers, sending a new shiver down his spine. Alex felt fear wash over him, not knowing what would happen next. He looked up at her, who was gently waving her index finger. As she approached, she stood so close that Alex could feel her gentle touch on his pants. Her striking, bright blue eyes locked with his inches away, creating an intense and intimate moment. Her long red hair and beautiful slim body didn't improve the situation; they made such a magical sense. He failed to assert himself by saying stop. After all, he held a position of authority over her. “Listen, Bea, what you think you've witnessed is a condition I am dealing with...” She abruptly interrupted him and placed a finger before Alex's lips. Her piercing, bright blue eyes seemed to see right through him. "Open those jeans of yours, and let me see," she said, her piercing eyes looking straight at him. Her words echoed with increasing intensity, her tone growing noticeably more taut with each repetition. Despite his innocence, her piercing gaze and tightly locked jaw filled me with an overwhelming dread. "Listen, you need to unzip those jeans for me. If you don't do it by the time I count to three, I'll start describing in vivid detail what you're wearing to everyone," Bea said in a suggestive tone. Alex slowly unbuttoned his pants and revealed what was underneath his jeans. It was easy to attribute wearing an average diaper to a medical condition, but standing there with a bright pink plastic panty was a different story altogether. Her smile continued to grow as she scrutinized him intently. She glanced downward and listened to the rustling sound of the plastic. It became clear as she saw my gaze. She knew she had him, and he couldn't do anything about it. "I have always enjoyed spending time with boys, playfully interacting with them and teasing them during my school days, especially sissy boys. I have been feeling quite unenthusiastic for a long time, and something sparked when I noticed your little diaper butt this week; it's incredibly satisfying to embrace my playful and mischievous nature once again," she expressed with a glint of excitement in her eyes. Alex was feeling incredibly nervous. What could she possibly want from him? Did she expect him to give her more work with higher pay? If word got out at work about his little secret, it would be devastating, and he might even have to resign. And what about his wife? "Bea, what is it you want?” “Don’t stress. I'm not asking for too much; I hope to inject more enjoyment into our workday. It could benefit both of us, but ultimately, you're the one who will be experiencing it. So, let's start with the most important task: wet your diaper for me, now.” she said, determined. Her expression was incredulous—could she be serious? The thought of complying was out of the question. But her look was so intense it sent trembles down Alex's backbone. He averted his gaze and focused on the task, trying to let it flow. It began small to get wet, then gradually came more loose before it came like a waterfall. His face grew even redder in humiliation. Gently, she placed her hand under his chin, lifting his head to meet her gaze. A wide smile adorned Alex’s face as our eyes met. "Good sissy, now we both know you don't use this in medical terms. You like this, don't you?" Bea said with a seductive smile. Now, keep that diaper on; don't change it. When you need a change, you will ask. See you later, diaper, sissy. Here he stood, nervous, terrified, and wet in his diaper. The more it swelled and thickened, he couldn't put aside the fact that he also was aroused.
  2. So it's already been 4 months since I first wrote about my journey of going 24-7. Now 8 months in. Time seems to move so slow when you first start going down this path. Everything is so new and exciting. It eventually becomes routine. That being said, progress is still moving along one phase at a time. I'm peeing in much smaller amounts now compared to when I started. A urine stream lasts only a few seconds and I'm done. It's also now very easy to let go in any position. If I drink a decent amount of water, I'll pee every 20 minutes repeatedly for a while. Again, small amounts every time. Doesn't have to be as much water anymore. As for bowel movements, now when I get the urge to poop my body seemingly automatically force pushes it out on its own within minutes. Regardless of what I've eaten or how much I've had to drink. Any regrets? No. The excitement of putting a diaper on may be gone but the enjoyment and comfort of it is very much still there for me. There's not a day that goes by where it doesn't put a smile on my face. Its definitely made me a happier and more chill person. It's been an interesting journey and I'm looking forward to whatever happens next.
  3. How many people out there have "learned" to wet the bed uncontrollably? If so, how long did it take to develop the behavior and have you enjoyed the loss of control?
  4. Marta

    sleep, wet b.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  5. Marta

    sleep, wet.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  6. Marta

    sleep h.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  7. Marta

    sleep g.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  8. Marta

    sleep f.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  9. Marta

    sleep e.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  10. Marta

    sleep d.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  11. Marta

    sleep c.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  12. Marta

    sleep b.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  13. Marta

    sleep a.jpg

    From the album: Sleep time

    © Marta

  14. This is my first long story, hope you will enjoy. Chapter 1 "Hey, baby!" I called as I pushed open the front door, hung my coat up, and floated towards the kitchen. The house always smelled nice; there was some homemade gingerbread on the counter, and the sun was pouring in through the windows.My wife, Patricia, was bustling around, whisking up a frothy meringue; her blonde hair bouncing as she hummed to herself. "Hey yourself," she replied with a grin. I leaned against the counter and watched her for a while, listening to the clatter of the utensils against the mixing bowl. The warmth of the house enveloped me, and my heart swelled with love. "So, what's the plan for tonight?" I asked casually, keeping my face neutral. It wasn't like I didn't know - she'd been dropping hints about my birthday surprise for weeks. "Well," she said, looking at me slyly. "I've got a surprise for you." My heart leapt. "You've got to tell me, darling. I can't keep guessing all night." She moved closer, her blouse unbuttoned and her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. "Alright, alright, you'll have to wait a little longer." I chuckled and leaned in, brushing my fingers against her cheek, tasting the lipstick she'd just applied. "Fine, I can wait a little longer," I said, before capturing her lips for a kiss. She giggled and pulled away, returning to her cooking. "Dinner will be ready soon," she whispered, her breath hot and heavy against my face. "Then, you'll see." My curiosity was piqued. I had no idea what she had planned, but the anticipation was making me nervous with excitement. I had never seen her this secretive before, and it was making me wonder if she had discovered my hidden passion. I cleared my throat and looked away, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as Patricia set the table, poured the wine, and flitted around the kitchen. "You know, honey," she said suddenly, "I've been thinking." "Oh?" I said, trying to sound casual. "Yes," she replied, her voice low and husky. "I've been thinking about...your birthday surprise." I froze. So, she did know. "You...you have?" "Mm-hm," she said, nodding as she stare straight into my eyes. I looked at her, feeling my chest tighten and my mouth go dry. "I've been thinking about how much I love you, and how much fun we could have if we just let go of our inhibitions for a weekend." I gulped and tried to process her words, my heart racing in my chest. "I want to give you the best birthday present ever," she whispered, tracing a finger down my chest. "And I think I know exactly what that is." I felt my body tense up as she took a step back, a wicked gleam in her eye. "I want to give you what you've always wanted, darling," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You do?" I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat. "Yes," she nodded, her lips curled into a playful smile. "I know all about your... desires." My mind raced, trying to process her words. Could it be true? Had she really discovered my secret dirty love for diapers and being treated like a baby? "Come with me," she said, taking my hand and leading me towards the playroom. The room was dimly lit, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the new big changing table, a few packages of ABDL printed diapers and some diaper changing accessories. Some bondage gear was scattered about, adding an edge to the comfortable-mysterious atmosphere. I was in shock....
  15. Hi Everyone, this will be my first ever published story. So don’t judge me too harshly. My plan is to ease in slowly and keep it kinda innocent in the beginning. I will however go deeper into themes of regression and humiliation later on in this story and by the end get into quite kinky stuff. But the first few chapters will be for everyone who enjoys diapers in the ABDL community. Enjoy! —————————————————— Tom Watkins, a second-year sociology student at the University of London, was known around campus for his quick wit and lighthearted demeanour. Born and raised in a small town in Essex, Tom moved to the bustling metropolis of London for university, eager to experience life in the big city. His parents, both teachers, had instilled in him a love for learning, curiosity, and an appreciation for good humour. Standing at a modest 5'9" with a lean, athletic build, Tom possessed a boyish charm that easily endeared him to both friends and strangers. His unruly mop of chestnut hair was perpetually tousled, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his hazel eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint. Tom played football as a midfielder for the university’s amateur team, the London Lions. Despite his often goofy off-field persona, he was fiercely competitive when it came to the sport. Socially, Tom was something of a chameleon, effortlessly navigating the diverse cliques that populated university life. He was equally at home cracking jokes in the student union bar as he was debating the fiery points of social theory in a study group. He admired the sporty social students on campus, but also related to the shy and socially awkward students sometimes labelled as odd as beneath his confident demeanour he also sometimes felt as an outcast. Tom had a few close friends. There was Sophie, his childhood friend and fellow sociology major, who shared his passion for social justice and often engaged him in spirited debates. Then there was Raj, his roommate and a computer science whiz and Anna, a literature student with a penchant for gothic novels. In his spare time, Tom enjoyed exploring the city. Sometimes he ventured alone, but more often he dragged his friends along on impromptu adventures to discover hidden gems – quirky bookshops in Bloomsbury or late-night food trucks in Shoreditch. He was also an avid gamer, spending hours immersed in RPGs. However, there was one aspect of Tom Watkins that he did not share with the world. Ever since he was little, Tom had been fascinated by diapers. This fascination started as early as when he was four years old. His first memory was feeling envious when, having already gotten out of diapers at the age of three, his family visited their neighbours. They had a two-year-old named Michael still in diapers. Tom couldn’t understand why he felt a pang of longing each time he saw the bulky fabric around Michael’s waist, but the feeling was undeniably there. As Tom grew older, this curiosity didn’t fade. In fact, it became a persistent, though secret, aspect of his life. By the time he was ten, the urge to explore this fascination was overwhelming. He vividly remembered the first time he acted on it. One summer afternoon, while his parents were out, Tom cycled to a store about ten miles from where he lived, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and anticipation. For an hour, he circled the small supermarket, gathering the courage to step inside. Once inside, he looked for the diaper aisle. He must have passed it at least five times, each time barely glancing at the packages on the shelf, trying to figure out if they would fit in his backpack. His palms were sweaty, and his heart raced. When a kind-looking store assistant asked if she could help, Tom’s voice came out in a high-pitched squeak, “Sorry, no, I’m okay.” Finally, summoning every ounce of bravery, he grabbed a pack of the largest Pampers available, their packaging adorned with tiny teddy bears. He walked up to the counter without engaging with the cashier, paid hurriedly, and bolted out of the store. His cheeks were bright red and his heart was ready to jump out of his chest. It was a rush he would never forget. After his purchase, Tom pedalled furiously to a secluded spot in the nearby woods. There, in the quiet solitude, he opened the pack and carefully pulled out a diaper. It felt both surreal and thrilling to hold the soft padding in his hands. He gingerly tried it on, the sensation unfamiliar as he could not remember what it felt like as a baby, yet the feeling was strangely comforting. He wore the diaper for a good hour, walking around and pulling down his pants every thirty feet or so just to check that it was still there. After a while, he felt the urge to pee. It took some time and willpower to untrain his mind to let go, but eventually, he felt the warm stream hit the soft padding. The rush he felt was unlike anything else, a potent blend of embarrassment and excitement that left him breathless. He rubbed his hand against the wet garment, but as he suddenly heard some rumbling bushes next to him, he quickly pulled up his pants and started walking deeper into the woods. He didn’t dare to look back immediately, but when he did, he saw that it was an old woman walking with her dog. That was enough to end his fun, so he quickly discarded the diaper, burying it deep under some leaves before riding home, heart still pounding furiously. There was no doubt in his mind he was hooked. This secret part of Tom’s life became something he learned to navigate with caution and discretion. By the time he was sixteen, his curiosity had grown, and he started wondering if others were into diapers like he was. He still remembers the first time he googled "diapers and adults" and the revelation that he was not alone. Discovering the term ABDL (adult baby diaper lover) was a mix of relief and wonder. There are others like me, he thought. He delved deeper into his online research, finding websites, forums, chat rooms, and specialised web stores with anything and everything ABDL-related. When he saw printed adult diapers in different colours with all sorts of cute prints—unicorns, bears, aliens, princesses, trucks, blocks—his mind almost short-circuited from the excitement. He knew from that moment that his love of diapers wasn’t so weird after all. Now at university, his usual days were what he would call vanilla, consisting of football and socialising, whereas his nights were sometimes spent indulging in this private interest. He had become adept at keeping this “ABDL” aspect of himself hidden, fearing judgement or misunderstanding. He often wondered why he had this fascination for diapers but had come to accept it as just another part of who he was. Despite the secrecy, Tom’s fascination with diapers didn’t affect his personal life. He knew he could balance both lives, never letting his best friends know about his private secret. If anything, this secret made him more empathetic, understanding that everyone has hidden aspects of themselves they fear to share. In the bustling, chaotic life of university, Tom found ways to hide his secret. He had a small stash of adult diapers hidden in a locked box under his bed, something he ordered discreetly online and had delivered to a post box in the city to avoid suspicion. The moments he spent in diapers were rare and carefully planned, a secret ritual that provided a sense of comfort and relief from his busy daily schedule. Over the years, he had also gathered a small stash of other baby items, such as a cute onesie which snapped closed at the crotch with four buttons, and a baby bottle from which he would drink juice or milk. He had also bought some baby pacifiers from the store. However, what he really wanted was an adult-sized pacifier. Now, as a 20-year-old university student, Tom's fascination had also turned sexual, and diaper-wearing would often end in a climactic symphony of his body releasing into his usually wet diapers. He would often sneak out at night with the garbage so that his dorm mates would not see him discarding his used diapers. His diaper desires were a solitary affair for Tom. Except for some anonymous chats online, no one knew about his fetish. He had often fantasized about meeting others; however, he had not yet had the courage to meet anyone from “the community,” as he now called it. But that was about to change. For the past few weeks, Tom had been chatting with an ABDL couple in their 30s. They had connected on a site called diaperfriends.com. The initial conversations seemed promising. Emma and Jake, the couple he was talking to, were friendly and understanding, easing Tom's nerves as they exchanged their first messages. Emma and Jake had a unique and loving relationship. Both in their mid-thirties, they had met five years ago at a local art exhibition in Brighton, where Emma's photography was on display. Emma, with her short-cropped auburn hair, warm brown eyes, and infectious laugh, had immediately caught Jake's attention. Jake, a tall, bearded man with an easygoing demeanour and a love for music and carpentry, had struck up a conversation about the themes in Emma's photos. The spark was instant, and they soon discovered they shared more than just an appreciation for art. Emma’s journey into the ABDL world had begun early in their relationship. She had always, as Tom did, harboured a deep-seated curiosity about diapers and the feeling of being cared for in an intimate, childlike way. One evening, after several glasses of wine and a deep, vulnerable conversation, she revealed her desires to Jake. She explained how she enjoyed feeling small and the comfort that came with it. Jake, who had always felt a strong paternal instinct, was intrigued by Emma's revelation and after some follow-up questions, agreed to let them explore this together. He had always told himself, “Whatever this woman wants, I want to be supportive.” Over time, they explored their ABDL interests together. Emma embraced her little side, finding joy in the regression and innocence of it all. Jake took on the habit of diapering Emma after she returned home from work at her studio. They started buying ABDL items, including a diaper pail for Emma's used diapers, which was one of their first purchases. As Jake was a skilled carpenter, he built Emma baby furniture over the years. The first piece he made was an adult-sized changing table. Emma was so excited when she climbed up on it, with Jake giving her a firm pat on her diapered bottom as she turned around on the table. Nowadays, their home has almost every ABDL-related piece of furniture imaginable. They had even transformed their guest bedroom into a full nursery, complete with a giant crib, rocking horse, bouncer, and, of course, the changing table, which these days was packed with different printed ABDL diapers. Recently, they both felt a shift in their dynamics. Emma found herself wanting to share her caregiving role, and Jake was curious about expanding their caregiving to include another person. They realised they wanted to bring a younger ABDL boy or girl into their lives to be their “little,” as it was called in the community. That's when they connected with Tom on diaperfriends.com. Emma and Jake were open about their desires and experiences, and Tom felt a connection he hadn’t found with anyone else online. He was nervous but at the same time excited about the possibility of meeting them. Their conversations flowed easily. They shared stories about wearing diapers, interests in the baby items they wanted to try, and dreams of being babied. Tom told the couple of his desire to be fully immersed in the baby experience. Emma and Jake were patient in their responses to Tom, never wanting to push him into anything that might make him uncomfortable. Slowly, Tom found himself trusting them more, and the idea of meeting them in person began to seem less daunting. One evening, as they chatted online, a message from Jake and Emma popped up: "Tom, we've really enjoyed getting to know you. How do you feel about taking the next step and meeting us in person?" Tom's heart raced as he typed his response. "I'd like that. I'm nervous, but I think it's time." The couple quickly followed up with a message. "That's perfectly normal, Tom. We'll make sure you feel safe and comfortable. How about next weekend? You could come to Brighton, stay at our place, and we can spend some time together." Tom hesitated for a moment, although deep inside he could not wait to meet Emma and Jake. "Okay, next weekend sounds good," he replied. The response he got was firm yet reassuring. "Great. We'll plan everything out and make sure you're taken care of. We can meet at the coffee shop near the station when you arrive." As soon as he read the message, he remembered, "Crap, I was supposed to go bowling with Sophie, Raj, and Anna next weekend." Now he had to come up with an excuse not to go. He decided to make up an excuse involving a football tournament. Tom texted his friends, "Hey guys, sorry but I forgot I have this football tournament in Brighton next weekend. Won't be able to make it to bowling. Don’t hate me for this" Sophie replied first, "Aww, that's a bummer, Tom! I’ve told you this many times but sometimes you have the memory of a goldfish, you goof!" Raj and Anna followed with similar snappy messages, expressing their disappointment but saying they would manage without him. With that settled, Tom's mind returned to the upcoming weekend. As the days passed, their conversations grew more detailed as they discussed the logistics of Tom’s visit. Emma and Jake's ABDL knowledge and experience were evident in their messages. “Baby, we’ll make sure you have the best time. We have spare diapers for you, so you won’t need to bring any. If you want, you can bring your favourite onesie or pacifier if you have any.” They added, "Remember, this weekend is about you exploring your “little” side. We do, however, wish that you keep an open mind. Hopefully, you will be experiencing a lot of new and exciting things with us." Tom replied, slightly awkwardly, “I can’t wait.” He wished he could have articulated his excitement better. Being someone's “little” was something he had dreamt of for so long and now it was just days away. The night before his trip, Tom received another message from the couple. "Tom, baby, we've got everything ready for your visit." They followed up that message with a picture of printed diapers with balloons, aeroplanes, and boats on them. Tom recognized the diapers; they were from a brand called ABUniverse, one of his favourites. “Trust us, we will take very good care of you ;). We can't wait to see you," the couple wrote. The next day, Tom packed his bag with a mix of excitement and anxiety. He packed his onesie, a generic medical brand diaper, and a baby pacifier in his backpack. As he boarded the train to Brighton, he couldn't help but wonder how this meeting would change his life.
  16. Michael, don't you know I was born to turn you on? You must, you've told me it enough times. You've whispered it in my ear in public, making me blush and squirm as you laughed. You've growled it at me as you held me down at hit me with all your strength. You've teased me with it as I lay tied to your bed, unable to move. And I loved it each time. I love that I am that object for you, that toy, that serves that one singular purpose. I love that I do it so well, and that we both know I'll do it in anyway you want. I love how far you've taken me, you've pushed in that direction. My question is, can you see beyond that? (And do I care if you do?) ... "No... no I can't!," I say, shaking my head. There were tears in my eyes already, just seeing what they intended. Michael loomed over me, as he always does. I always felt smell next to him. "No? Are you arguing? Should I get the paddle, and we can have a nice long discussion about it?" He grabbed my wrist and pulled me in. My heard jumped. Even the threat made me more excited. I looked over at what the clothes they had laid out for me. I had played so many roles for them. I had been their pet, their slave, their baby, their maid. I had come out with them wearing leather vests and diapers under my clothes. However, there were still lines. "I don't know that I want that. Not yet." I whimpered. Michael walked to me. He put a hand on my shoulders, and the other reached down and cupped me below the belt. I gasped. "Are you sure you don't want it, diaper boy? Your cock seems to disagree." "I... I don't, Daddy." It sounded as fake as it felt. The truth was I longed for what they showed me, and had dreamed of it for months. The outfit itself wasn't that far off from dozens I had worn for them before. It was a onesie, bright pink and with a heart on its chest. It came with leggings and platform shows, and bows for my hair, which had grown longer and would undoubtably be put in pigtails. My leash was beside it, the collar was on my neck, and I already wore a diaper to go with it. With it, I knew they would probably tie me, and give me a gag to keep me quiet. I had worn the same before. What was different was what it meant today. I felt a hand smack the back of my diaper. Sarah came around my other side with an arm on my back. "Is that true diaper girl? I think its perfect for you. I think its perfect for you to wear every day from now on." "Uhhh..." I moaned. "Daddy, is she allowed to do that?" I asked as the other submissive teased me. To tell the truth, hearing someone who was herself being dominated talk down to me only made me crave more. If there was to be an pecking order, a huge part of me I was terrified of craved more then anything to be on the bottom of it. "Yes sweetie. Remember our ranking?" I thought back. We were both subs under him, but what we wore went beyond that. Regular clothes beat anyone cross-dressed, which beat anyone dressed as an animal, which beat, lowest of the low... "She's also in a diaper Daddy," I said. "We're the same." He shook his head. "Not anymore. Not when she's in her black diapers and her leather clothes, and you have your cute little printed diapies and onesie. You are the lowest here, and will still be from now on." My mind swirled. By far the most humiliating game they had played with me was this one. It was the one thing that pushed me right to the limit, the only that still made me begin to think of saying no. Now, they wanted to take me into public, in our club with all our friends, dressed like that. More, they wanted me to live like that, to come into their home and stay like that permanently. My heart jumped, and I wasn't sure if it was from disgust, fear, or joy. Michael turned me to face him directly. He put a hand on my diaper and pulled me in right next to him, and put the other on the back of my head. I looked away for a moment, but he turned me back, and for a second I thought he would kiss me. Instead, he just stared at me with his clear eyes. My breath caught, as it always did when I looked into them. "Are you sure sweetie? If you don't want it, you know your safety word. This can all be over now. Just say it, or let us dress you again." I was still, but was sure I was falling deep into his eyes again. Every time they hit me it was like all the will to argue left me. I felt myself melt and fall deeply into them, like a man possessed, and he did possess me. The image of me going into the club, crawling in his humiliating costume, all the nervousness it brought, fell along with my willpower into his eyes. Those eyes. It was always those goddamn eyes. ... Oh Michael don't you know you were born to turn me on? That is the part I'm not sure you understand. Or, if you understand it, you understand it all to well. It is everywhere and always to me. That feeling. That incredible, awful feeling. That arousal that is on my mind. That distracts me from work. That distracts me from relationships. That distracts me from all of life outside your impossible, clear eyes. The deep, painful knowledge that that you could get me to do anything you wanted no matter how bad I DON'T want it and the more I don't want it the more I want it because I know you want it because I don't want it and that makes me WANT it and I don't understand that. But you do, and that scares me. I am not in love with you. I am ADDICTED to you. I am OBSESSED with you, and with your impossible clear eyes. When I see them I feel like I am possessed, and I know I am possessed by you. I can stare at them for hours and not be sure what happened. I am addicted to your body. The tight, lean muscles. The strong arms, able to carry me, to pull me, to hold me down, even as I struggle (ESPECIALLY as I struggle) The size that has you always looking down on my ever so slightly, ever so noticeably, with your clear, impossible eyes. I am addicted to all you do to me. All our little games, all the strange clothes, all the things I never would have done if I never had met you. And I cant stop them. I can't stop wanting them. I don't know why I want them, I SHOULDN'T want them, but by god I do. By YOU I do. You are my god now. And that is what I am worried you understand all to well. There are lines I cannot cross, but I don't know what they are when I see those clear, impossible eyes. Not ever since I first saw them, those months ago.
  17. Introduction What would happen if, no matter how old you are, your parents found your stash? Well, on an already miserable day, that’s exactly what happened to Tom. How will both he and his dad handle it? Chapter 1 - Rejection ‘Well, thank you for coming in today, myself and the panel will discuss the interview and the recruiter will get back to you in due course’. Tom could see in the eyes of the interviewer it was going to be another rejection. He couldn’t understand it, just over a year ago he’d graduated with a 2:1 in Architecture. He thought he’d walk into a job, but he’d applied to every company he could find, and had 15 interviews never getting further than the second round. He couldn’t understand it, what was he doing wrong? Whatever it was it wasn’t how he presented himself. He looked gorgeous in his grey slim fit suit and smart tan shoes. He is 5’9, short jet black hair, with beautiful bright blue eyes, but I guess it’s what you say in interview which is important, not how you look. He stood up, grabbed his posh leather bag his dad had gotten him for his graduation, shook the panel’s hands and made his way out into the busy London street. No sooner had he stepped out the building a rough looking man bumped into him with a cigarette burning a hole right into the shoulder. ‘Hey!’ said Tom. ‘Fuck off, prick’ cursed the man as he hurried on. It was the final straw, a tear rolled down Tom’s face. He couldn’t take much more of life at this point. Everything was falling apart, or that’s how it felt. 23, no job, no friends who are local, his mum has passed away and he’s still living with his grieving dad Steve. After travelling back by train Tom let himself into the house and rushed straight upstairs to his room. ‘How’d the interview go?’ called his Dad from his study. ‘Crap’ shouted back Tom. Once in the room he started to undress. He hung up his suit jacket and inspected the burn. Maybe it could be repaired? Probably not, now he doesn’t even have a suit if he gets another interview. Nevertheless he took off the trousers and placed the suit in its special bag like always, before putting it in the wardrobe. He grabbed his joggers and a t-shirt and turned to lay on his bed, but as he did, he saw something which made his blood run cold. Could this day get any worse? His worst nightmare was lying in front of him. His heart thumped in his chest as if it was about to exit it. His face flushed red, sweat started to bead on his forehead, panic started to set in. Lying there in front of him was one of his adult nappies, and on it a note. “Hey son, let’s talk, love Dad”. Tom had bought these nappies a few months back from a medical supply company whilst his Dad had been away for work. He’d been interested in them for a while. He’d enjoyed the few he’d tried but he’d not had the courage to wear them once his dad got back. He’d hidden them under his bed in a carrier bag, but clearly his dad had found them. He couldn’t believe it, how could this happen? For an hour he sat there thinking of excuses he could make, plausible stories he could tell. “They’re not mine”. “I’ve been having bedwetting problems”, “I…” none of them seemed convincing. He didn’t feel like he could leave the room. After at least an hour and a half his dad called ‘dinner!’ Heart thumping and head racing he made his way down the stairs. He was physically shaking. When he saw his Dad at the table, he froze. ‘So you don’t think they’ll ask you back?’ asked his Dad. ‘No’ Tom tried to say, but nothing came out. ‘No’ he said eventually in his third attempt. ‘Sit down it’s getting cold’ said his Dad gesturing to Toms dinner. Tom made his way over and sat down in silence. For a short while they both ate, but Tom really wasn’t hungry, if anything he felt sick. He just shuffled his food around. When his dad had finished he reached out and put his had on Tom’s. ‘Talk to me Tom’ he said gently, trying to make eye contact. Tom was physically shaking, he couldn’t speak, he was living his worst nightmare. His Dad lent across to him. ‘I found your nappies mate’ he said. Just hearing that out loud drove through Tom like a train. ‘They’re not mine’ he blurted out. It was like a reflex, he heard himself say it, but he didn’t think he’d actually processed what he was going to say yet. His dad gave him a soft smile. ‘I know they’re yours son’. He said softly. ‘Tell me why’ he asked. Tom put his shaking hands over his eyes, tears now starting to well up. ‘Please talk to me son’. ‘I’m sorry Dad, I’m such a failure. I’ve got no friends, I don’t have any hobbies, I can’t get a job, I’m going nowhere. I’m a disappointment. If mum were alive she’d be heartbroken at what a useless adult I’ve become’. ‘Oh don’t be silly’ said his Dad. ‘You’re going through a tough time, I know, we both are, but you have your whole life ahead of you. You’re only 23’ Tom couldn’t look at his Dad, he still had his hands over his eyes. ‘I just wish things were like years ago, when mum was alive, when I was carefree and….happy’ sobbed Tom. ‘Is that why you bought the nappies?’ His dad asked gently. ‘I dunno, I dunno why I bought them’ said Tom regretfully. ‘Do they take you back, to a happy place? Are they a stress reliever for you or something?’ His dad enquired. ‘I guess so, I’m sorry, I’ll throw them away, please don’t think I’m a weirdo or a sicko dad, please’ said Tom. ‘I don’t, I understand, if they relax you and you want to wear them that’s fine. I wore them myself for a bit when I was your age’. Tom immediately pulled his face out of his hands. That was an unexpected sentence. ‘What?’ Said Tom in shock. ‘I wore nappies as a stress reliever, to regress for a few years, never did me any harm, better than drugs or booze’. Said his dad dismissively. Tom didn’t know what to say, he just stared at his dad in shock, and in a strange sense, relief. His dad got up and gestured to Tom to get up and give him a hug. Tom obliged, got up and put his arms around his Dad. ‘You’re still shaking’ he said. ‘This might be the perfect time for one of those nappies’. Chapter 2 - Relief When Tom went back into his room the nappy was still there laying on the bed. Half of him desperately wanted to put it on the other half wanted to throw it out the window. Eventually the half that wanted to wear it won out and he started to unfurl it. After he’d just had permission to hadn’t he? He slowly pulled down his joggers, pulled down his boxers and sat himself on the nappy. He laid back for a moment and stared at the ceiling. “What am I doing?” He repeated to himself, but his desire to carry on pushed through and he slowly and carefully applied the 4 tapes of his Tena Maxi adult nappy. He slowly closed his legs. The nappy popped and crinkled as it resisted. The feeling was amazing, he could feel the stress of this bizarre day drain away. After a while his dad called up. ‘You can come down you know, I want to watch Traitors’. Tom and his Dad had been watching it on catchup together each evening. Tom stood up, his nappy crinkling, not overly loudly, but noticeably in a quiet room. He pulled the joggers over it and looked in the mirror. It wasn’t noticeable from the front. He made his way down and quickly sat in the chair, so his dad couldn’t notice or tell. Tom was hugely into the Traitors on TV, but his mind was elsewhere tonight. As his dad commented on it, he just managed the occasional “yeah” instead of the usual debate. Eventually it finished and his dad switched off the TV. He looked across at Tom expectantly. ‘So did you put one on?’ He asked. Tom paused for a moment. ‘Yeah’ he said shyly. ‘Feel better now?’ asked his Dad. Tom breathed out slowly. ‘Yeah, I guess I do’. He said eventually. ‘Good’ said his dad. If that’s all it takes to relax you, just wear them son, I won’t judge. ‘Can I ask a practical question though?’ ‘What?’ asked Tom uncertain. ‘Do you, wet yourself?’ His dad asked plainly. ‘No!’ exclaimed Tom, as if it was a ridiculous question. He’d worn three on his own, and it had not remotely occurred to him to wet them. It was just the feeling of the bulk he liked. He wasn’t about to start wetting himself! ‘I mean, it’s not a crazy thing to ask Tom’ his Dad said. ‘You’re wearing a nappy and I ask if you wet yourself’. There was an awkward pause. ‘Well, if you do have an accident, I’ll put some bin bags in your room. Take it off, ball it up, put it in the bag, tie it up and put it outside your door, I’ll get rid of it. Don’t put it in the bins in the house, they can smell after a bit’. ‘Oh for god sake dad, I don’t wet myself!’ Repeated Tom as he got up to leave the room. ‘Hey’ called his dad grabbing his arm. ‘Don’t walk off on me, I’m being understanding and supportive. ‘It was a perfectly reasonable question and I wanted to make sure we have a plan for it’. ‘I know, sorry Dad, it’s just weird that’s all’ said Tom genuinely. ‘I guess I’m just embarrassed, y’know’. ‘Yeah I get that son, wearing a nappy is embarrassing, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of, people wear them for all sorts of reasons. As long as they’re helping you, it’s all good, I’m proud of you for talking to me about it at all and doing what makes you happy. I don’t think I could have handled it so well with my dad if he ever found mine’. Tom thought to ask his Dad if he ever wet his nappies, but it just felt too weird. Chapter 3 - The bathroom problem Tom stood in the bathroom cleaning his teeth, then habitually turned to the toilet to do a wee before getting into bed. As he went to grab it his hand slammed into his pad, not his boxers, opps. He reached inside and tried to pull it out the top, but he’s not that well endowed and it wouldn’t reach well enough even with the nappy pulled right down, he’d just pee all over himself. He tucked himself back down, squatted and reached into a leg guard. The guard was tight, but he managed to get the head out and point it to the toilet. He tried to go, but the pressure of the leg guard was stopping the flow. He squatted even more, and eventually wee squirted out, some in the loo, some up the wall and some in the bath. It was very awkward, and it had made a huge mess, but eventually he was done. He hurriedly started to clean up bathroom. Once in his room, he dropped his joggers, took off his t-shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. Like before, half of him thought he looked good with the nappy on, the other half thought he looked like a freak. For a moment he planned to take it off, but ultimately decided against it, he didn’t have many, he didn’t have any money and he didn’t want to waste it. He pulled on his pjs over the top of it. It took a while before he fell asleep, the feel of the nappy seemed somewhat overwhelming. It was keeping him awake, but eventually he did drop of. … He looked over at the clock with one eye, 3:10am. He woke up for a wee at this time every night. For a split second he thought about going in his nappy, but it was just a second. He made his way to the bathroom, where exactly the same thing happened as earlier, except worse, because this time he was half asleep. Like before he hurriedly cleaned up, to what he thought was a good standard, and made his way back to bed. … The following morning, he woke as usual and made his way downstairs. ‘Jam on toast?’ asked his Dad? ‘Yes please’ said Tom still a little sleepy. As his Dad made breakfast, he turned to Tom. ‘Ok, here’s something I gotta say’. He said. ‘If you’re going to wear those nappies in my house, I’d much rather you wee in it and cleanly dispose of it, than wee all over the bathroom’ he said waving the butter knife. ‘Sorry, I thought I cleared up’ said Tom in a bit of a panic. ‘I just need some practice, sorry’. ‘Tom’s’ dad turned around. ‘If you want to wear, but still use the loo. I’ll get you some pull-ups, but if you’re in those it’s just not really practical, unless you remove it, which of course pretty much ruins it. Tom thought again about asking his dad if he’d wet his, but like before it just felt odd and creepy to ask his dad that. ‘I’ll try sitting next time’ said Tom. Chapter 4 - A Subscription! It may surprise you to know that after his shower that day Tom put on regular underpants. He’d had his fill, in fact for the next 2 days, no more nappy and it was only mentioned a couple of times by his dad, gently enquiring whether he was wearing one or not. That doesn’t mean Tom hadn’t thought about what had happened virtually every waking minute. It was just that after the initial rush it just felt too awkward to go about his normal daily routine at home, in front of his dad, with a nappy on. That initial confidence had been lost. Tom was at his computer at about 11am, his Dad was in his study downstairs working. He’s a self employed accountant, he works from home most days, only occasionally going into the city to meet a client. There was a knock at the door. “Sign here please mate” Tom heard the delivery driver say, before several thud sounds. Tom made his way down curiously. In the hall his Dad was positioning 3 large boxes. ‘What you ordered?’ asked Tom. His dad stepped back with a big proud grin. ‘Open one’ he said. Tom stepped forward and pulled the tape off of the box on top and flapped it open. ‘Nappies!?!’ He said in shock. ‘Why have you ordered nappies?’ Tom said with a look of confusion on his face. ‘Because you told me you like to wear them, so I’ve ordered you them for you.’ Tom looked at the huge pile. 21 per pack, 3 in a box, 3 boxes. 189 nappies! ‘Well how many are you expecting me to get through?’ He asked incredulously. ‘I don’t know, but you save on delivery if you spend over £80 and get 10% off if you sign up for a subscription, so I got 3 cases’. ‘A subscription!’ Tom said almost shouting. ‘It’s ok, I can cancel it, there’s no commitment’ said his dad waving it off. ‘Look they’re there if you want one. You feel stressed, or just want one they are there. Take a pack up to your room, I’ll store the rest in the spare room’. Tom walked up to his room carrying his bag of nappies. He couldn’t decide what he thought about it. It had been great that his dad hadn’t freaked out, it had been a huge relief his dad was so supportive, but buying him 3 cases without asking? As Tom looked at the nappies in the pack on his bed next to him, he had an odd feeling. He wanted to put one on of course, but he also now felt this uncomfortable expectation from his that he would, and that if he didn’t his dad be oddly disappointed that he’d wasted his money. He put the pack to one side and made his way downstairs. He tapped on his dad’s study door. ‘I’ve got to ask dad, why have you ordered me three cases of nappies without asking me if I want them?’ His dad turned around on his office chair and took off his reading glasses. ‘Because son, if I’d have asked if you wanted me to order them you’d have said no, and I know you want them deep down. You can’t afford them, and you’d not order when I’m here even if you could, so I just ordered them for you. Save you the anxiety. You’re under no obligation, they’re there if you want them’. Chapter 5 - No obligation Tom’s days were not as full as they could be. He’d get up, have breakfast and then go on the job hunting sites. If there was anything to apply for, he’d apply for it. Generally though he was done by lunchtime and scratching around for something to do. Today was one of those days, he’d applied for one job, he didn’t really like the sound of it, but it was that or apply for nothing. He went over to the pack of nappies that had just arrived and pealed them open. They were the same make as the ones he’d bought, but these were the highest absorbency ‘Ultima’ version. He pulled one out, and held it. Just holding it in his hand gave him a buzz. He un furled it and felt the contrast been the smooth plastic outer shell and soft padded inside. It gave him a magical, warm and excited feeling inside. He slowly pulled down his jeans, then his boxers and laid himself on the bed. Slowly and carefully he pulled the nappy up snuggly between his legs and securely taped it on. Instantly the day went from empty and dull to a whirlwind of emotion. He no longer felt bored, he felt excited. The nappy, that his own dad had bought him no less, sat comfortably and reassuringly between his legs. He reached down and felt it. The bulk was considerable, his man parts locked away beneath the thick padding. He laid on his bed in just his t-shirt and nappy, just enjoying the moment for a while, before lifting himself up from his dreamlike state to stand. The nappy pushed between his legs. As his walked over to his mirror he could feel its presence with every step. He looked at himself in the mirror. He liked what he saw, he thought it looked both cute and smart all at the same time. … “Knock-knock” ‘Hi son I’m done, fancy a walk?’ Called his dad through the door. Tom dived to the floor to grab his jeans and then tried to pull them on in a panic. As he did, his door started to open. Before long he was standing there in front of his dad, trousers half up in a t-shirt and nappy. ‘Ah, you tried one’ said his dad. ‘Like em?’ ‘Err yeah’ said Tom. ‘A bit thicker’ ‘Yeah, I thought well, if you do wet yourself, these will last you a bit longer’. Replied his dad. Tom didn’t know how to reply to that. His instinct was to say ‘I don’t wet myself’ like before, but in truth he was thinking about giving it a go, given how difficult it was to use the loo. ‘I can’t go for a walk in this’ said Tom, pointing to his nappy. ‘Why?’ asked his dad. ‘Err, why do you think?’ Replied Tom. ‘No, genuinely Tom I don’t know why’ his dad replied. ‘Tell me’ ‘People will notice!!’ said Tom. ‘Who’s going to notice?’ said his dad incredulously. ‘You can’t tell it’s there under clothes’ he said confused. ‘It’s a private thing, no one knows what underwear you’ve got on, get over yourself’. Tom finished buttoning up his jeans. They were actually a little tight with his Tena Ultima nappy underneath. ‘I’m going to take it off’ he said as he started unbuttoning again. ‘Right’ said his dad authoritatively. ‘I’m supportive, but to a point. I won’t have piss all over the bathroom and I’m not having you waste nappies by putting them on, then just taking them off again moments later. They’re expensive. Do up your bloody trousers and stop being silly’ Tom didn’t really know what to say. He stopped unbuttoning. ‘Does it really not show?’ ‘No son, it doesn’t’. Now come on it’s a nice day, let’s get some fresh air. … As Tom walked along the bulk of the nappy was present with every step. Both he and his dad were fast walkers, but in his nappy and tight jeans he was struggling to keep up a little. It was a beautiful day. They went to the park, had an ice cream and on the way back walked past the local pub. ‘Fancy a cheeky pint?’ Asked his dad. They often went into the pup together. ‘Yeah, why not’ said Tom. They both had a couple of pints before it was time to leave. They didn’t talk about Toms nappy at all, mostly about the Traitors on TV. ‘Ok, I’m going to pop to the loo and then we’ll head off’ said his Dad. ‘Ah yeah, me too’ said Tom. His dad stopped and looked at him. ‘You do make me laugh, why are you doing it to yourself? You can’t wee all over the floor in a public bathroom, it’s rude and disrespectful’. Tom looked at him, kinda accepting that he had a point. Whilst it felt so crazy to wet himself, as his dad became more accepting and as Tom was waddling around in the nappy anyway, it felt increasingly silly to not use it for what it was designed for. ‘The thing is son’ said his dad. ‘They deteriorate after 4-6 hours anyway, so you gotta change it whether you use it or not, you may as well use it. Tom stood and waited whilst his dad went to the loo. He was breaking his neck, but he couldn’t go. Something in his brain was telling him no. He couldn’t just wet himself right there in the middle of the pub! As they walked back, Tom was getting increasingly desperate and his dad noticed. Tom was walking quicker and quicker and couldn’t stop grabbing his crotch. His bladder felt like it was going to burst. ‘Stop walking a minute’ said his dad, stopping himself. Tom stopped, the urge unbearable. ‘If you don’t let it go you’ll hurt your kidneys. That’s what I did, it was agony for days. That’s why I’m trying to help you. Just go, you don’t have to be embarrassed in front of me’ With that Tom’s bladder burst, right there in the street. Wee poured uncontrollably into his nappy. He stared desperately at his jeans in the full expectation that wee would be pouring down them, but it was not. What he could feel though was his nappy expanding and getting larger and tighter in his jeans. After what felt like forever, he stopped. ‘Come on then’ said his said. As Tom walked on the nappy felt completely different to before. It was much much bulkier, oddly to him though it didn’t feel at all wet. It had clearly absorbed all the wee and left him dry, which was pretty amazing actually, who’d have thought they’d work so well? It felt so strange yet at the same time so comforting to have had an accident and been protected by his nappy. It also made him feel small, having just stood there in front of his dad and wet himself. As they walked along his dad turned to him and chuckled. ‘So I guess that answers my question. You do wet yourself.’ Chapter 6 - Something awkward Over the next few days Tom had worn a nappy on and off, even when wearing all but a couple of very carefully managed wees has been in the toilet, with great difficulty. He was really conflicted about whether to wear one or not. Even though his dad was fine with it, almost encouraging it, he was still embarrassed to talk about it, and felt a little silly with it on. Things had been reasonably normal. His dad had enquired occasionally as to the state of his nappy, but it wasn’t often. Just things like. “If you’re wet son, don’t forget to change regularly”. His dad had also bought him some powders and creams and impressed upon him the importance of good skin care and hygiene. “Wearing nappies isn’t dirty or gross son, but you do need to up your game on hygiene and skin care” he’d said. … As they sat and watched tv that evening, Tom decided he’d do a wee in his nappy. He stood and after a few odd movements he started to wet himself. ‘Good lad, I notice you’re getting better at that’ said his dad. Tom stood a while longer until he’d finished, then sat back down in his now wet nappy and finally said something that was increasingly bothering him. ‘Dad’ he said. ‘Can I ask you something really awkward?’ His dad switched off the tv and looked at him with suspicion. ‘Okaaay’ he said slowly, Tom took a deep breath. ‘Do you like me in nappies?’ He eventually asked. ‘What do you mean?’ asked his dad. ‘Well, like just then, and other times, you seem to be encouraging it. Like you want me to be in nappies and wet myself and stuff’ asked Tom. His dad moved his gaze away for a moment thinking about what he was going to say. Eventually he returned to Tom. ‘It’s not about me, it’s about you son. I just want you to have what I never had, an understanding parent during this part of your life. It’s obviously in our genes to like this. I’ve passed it on to you. I want it to be as easy and enjoyable as possible for you to go through. Not like my experience. I’d have loved my dad to have accepted my nappy wearing, but I never got it, and I never got to find out what he would have done or said.’ ‘I see’ said Tom. ‘Granddad never knew?’ What would you have wanted granddad to do or say?’ Asked Tom. ‘I’d have liked him to say it’s fine, I’d have liked acceptance, I’d have liked….to have…well it doesn’t matter’. ‘No do say’ said Tom. ‘Heck, we’re beyond holding back aren’t we?’ Tom’s Dad paused for a considerable time. ‘I’d have liked him to change me. BUT that doesn’t mean I’m asking to change you!’ He blurted out Tom sat there, looking at his Dad. ‘Do you want to change me then?’ He asked gingerly. ‘No, No!’ said his dad definitely. ‘That’s not what I meant, I wish I’d not said that’ ‘You don’t want to, or you feel like you don’t want to ask?’ ask Tom. His dad looked increasingly uncomfortable. ‘I can’t do this’ he said starting to stand. Tom grabbed his arm like he had his a couple of days before’. His dad sat back down. ‘What do you want from this?’ Asked Tom. ‘Why are you so supportive? Why are you buying them for me?’ Asked Tom ‘Son please’ said his dad desperately trying to end the conversation. ‘No, come on dad, we gotta have this discussion’ insisted Tom. His dad started to claw at the said of the chair. ‘Because I remember how much I wanted to go back into nappies, and if I’m honest a part of me still does want to occasionally. I remember bottling it up for years, the anxiety of trying it, hiding it, feeling wrong and weird. When I discovered you’d inherited this from me I decided I didn’t want you to go through what I did. I wanted you to be yourself, be happy, fulfil your desires, be content in yourself’. Tom didn’t know what to say. His dad went on. ‘And if I’m completely honest, I want to share in your joy of it, in a way I never got to. Sorry I know that’s selfish, I don’t want to put you under any pressure, this mustn’t be about me’. ‘I really do appreciate that dad, thanks so much’ said Tom as he came over for a hug. ‘Have I got it right?’ His dad asked ‘What do you mean?’ Asked Tom ‘Do they make you feel how I think they do?’ ‘They do make me feel happy and relaxed’ said Tom. ‘A kind of contentment I’ve not felt in a long time’. ‘Then tell me son, tell me why you shouldn’t wear them as much as you want?’ After a long pause ‘When I say I’m not asking to change you, please don’t think it’s because I wouldn’t. If you asked I’d be right there for you, but I’d never put you under any pressure to, you know that don’t you?’ ‘Yeah I know that dad’ said Tom. ‘I’m not sure that’s something I could handle, at least not now’.
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