LL Medico Diapers and More Bambino Diapers - ABDL Diaper Store

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'diapers'.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Latest News and Updates
    • Latest News
  • Diaper Talk
    • Newbie Nursery
    • Scoop The Poop
    • Our Lifestyle Discussion
    • [DD] Surveys
    • Incontinence - Medical
    • Rainbow Diapers
    • Story and Art Forum
    • Roleplay
    • Product Reviews and Info
    • Diapers in the News
    • Links and Announcements
    • In and Out Board
  • Connect
    • The Rest of your Life!
    • Meeting Place
    • Game Time
  • Trading Post
  • Support
  • Private Forums
  • Other Fetishes
  • Clubby McClubFace's British Gossip
  • Big Kids Room's Topics
  • Infant School's Let's talk ...
  • Music Producers Club's Topics
  • Diaper Disciplined's Double Diapers and More...
  • Ab/dl LBGT diapers's Topics
  • For us who are turned on by diapers's Write something about yourself, so we can get to know each other!
  • spankings-4-all's Topics
  • dutchdiapers's Heya allemaal :) Stel je voor!
  • The hated ones's What's it like?
  • Big but getting Smaller!'s Topics
  • abdl west Yorkshire (uk)'s Topics
  • Puddle Skirts Club's Topics
  • BabyFurs & DiaperFurs's Roleplaying
  • BabyFurs & DiaperFurs's Games
  • BabyFurs & DiaperFurs's Topics
  • Minecraft Daycare's Topics
  • "Nerd" Is The Word's Topics
  • AB/DL Support Group's Topics

Product Groups

  • E-Books
  • Memberships
  • Diaper Pins
  • Videos
  • Trinkets
  • Clothing

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


Alt.com ID


DiaperMates ID


Website URL


ICQ


Yahoo


Skype


Location


Real Age


Age Play Age

Found 849 results

  1. Hello, all, I was a member here for a long time and posted quite frequently, including post some work in the story forum. I decided it was taking up too much of my time, but I miss the creative outlet. I have published a couple ABDL novella on Amazon, and this may turn up there eventually. But this is more for me, and for those of you who enjoy this. I've avoided diaper dimension stories because I never really liked the concept, but I finally read on this past weekend, and I was very much drawn to an aspect of it: someone voluntarily giving up their adulthood, not in a negotiated way but in a way almost entirely dictated by the Big. That was the first ABDL story, in my 20 years of reading them, that I felt like I was reading literature and not fetish porn, and it was well written. The only thing that threw me about it was the utter hell that is so much of the diaper dimension. So I thought, what would an ethical, consensual part of the dimension look like, and how would it work? So with that in mind, here's what you ought to know going forward: I don't know all the supposed rules of the diaper dimension, and I don't care to hear about them. This is my version. I probably will not post all that often. I have a busy job, a side business to run, and I can't just turn the creativity on like a faucet. Wish I could, but sorry. I hammered out the first 2500 words just in the past two hours. That's my writing MO: burst of creativity followed by period of lack of creativity/writing myself into a corner/being too busy/not caring/getting bored. But I have always finished my stories eventually. I'll shoot for posting at least once a month, and likes and comments are always good encouragement to work on the story. I hate proofreading, so I'm not gonna. That's me not adulting. Ha! I don't know where this story is going. What I have so far is mostly me getting some venting done and escaping in the story what I can't escape in here. The rest is and will be whatever fantasy I'm feeling in the moment. Not autobiographical. Based on thoughts and feelings, not on actual events. Personally, I've had this concept in my head all of 60 hours, and I'm pretty excited about it. I hope you enjoy. _____________________________________________________________________ Chapter 1 “So why are you here?” She smiled when she said it; you could tell it was routine, the first question she always asked, and the smile was just good service. Staring across the desk, slumped in his chair, not sure where to put his hands or how to answer and preserve some pride, Eric didn’t respond right away. “I guess … I just don’t want to be here anymore,” Eric replied while keeping his eyes on the desk. Cheryl was used to this. Not many people who came to an adoption center wanted to talk about it. Except the exhibitionists; they wouldn’t stop talking about it, but it was obvious from his body language and mumbling tone that Eric wasn’t here for any of those reasons. “I understand, honey,” Cheryl said, softening her voice, “a lot of people feel that way. Can I ask you some questions about how you feel?” Eric knew what coming; he’d asked the same questions himself more times than he cared to remembered. He nodded. “Do you feel like hurting yourself?” “No.” Flat, matter of fact, and truthful. “Have you ever felt like hurting yourself?” “No.” “Do you feel like hurting someone else?” “No.” Have you ever felt like hurting someone else?” “No.” Cheryl ticked off boxes on her iPad while Eric waited patiently. “I’m so glad to hear that. Can I ask a few more?” She didn’t pause for him to answer. “Have you ever been diagnosed with any of the following? Bipolar disorder, Schizophrenia, Depression, Anxiety, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Personality Disorder, Dissociative disorder?” “Just depression and anxiety,” Eric said as he pushed back in his chair and exhaled. He’d been with depression for eight years and had this conversation with every new doctor and therapist he’d been to in that time. It was boring. Before Cheryl could get her next word out, Eric answered her next question. “I’m taking 150mg of Bupropion once a day and Xanax as needed. I’ve was seeing a therapist every other week until about 6 months ago. Her names is in the paperwork I brought with me. I’d say my depression and anxiety are both well controlled.” “Good,” she said, “That’s all good. Do you mind if I call your therapist to talk with her?” “No, that’s fine.” “Good. I need to be sure your decision isn’t being influenced by your depression or anxiety. So, back to what you were saying earlier, you ‘don’t want to be here anymore.’ Can you tell me more about that?” Cheryl leaned forward, trying to help Eric engage. “I’m work for the county…I’m a social worker…” Cheryl was practiced at this. Nod, say nothing, the client will fill the silence when they’re ready. “I … I …” Eric sucked in air and held back a sob. “I just can’t stay here anymore. I can’t … keep doing this.” Cheryl pushed her box of tissues toward Eric, who reached into his pocket and pulled out a cotton handkerchief. Dabbing at his eyes, he said started again. “Kenard Bering was my client. You probably didn’t hear about that. Good kid, not a trouble maker; wasn’t going to be any project to Harvard story, but he was on track, ya know. And he gets shot over a fucking cellphone.” Tears dripped, and Eric occasional wiped them away as he fell into a soliloquy: “Second kid in a year killed ……………. Dies at school from a fucking asthma attack. When’s the last time you heard of anyone dying from a fucking asthma attack ……………. And this asshole cop says to this 14 year old, ‘well, what are you doing to make your mother hit you? I couldn’t believe it, I … who the fuck says that or even thinks that way? How do you send a kid home who doesn’t want to go home? ……………. Burned ……………. Dropped out ……………. Caught with a weapon his mother game him. And that was after she beat him for losing a fight ……………. But so what if he graduates, right? ‘Cause it’s not like there’s anything but a mop or an apron waiting for him out there ……………. Left her kid to sit in his own shit while she went to get high and doesn’t even tell the cop the kid is home alone ……………. Jail ……………. 12 years old and pregnant and bipolar and both parents on drugs – what can I even do for that? ……………. He had priors ……………. I lost him to the pipeline ……………. Caught out on a corner ……………. Neighborhood says the cops did it ……………. ……………. ……………. ……………. …………….” Eric had stopped crying. He wasn’t sad. He was angry and disgusted and indignant. “For every one I save, whatever that means, there’s five I don’t. It’s like watching a never ending catastrophe and it rips my guts out every time.” Tired now, he slumped back in his chair, “Everyone said give it a year, you’ll get hardened to it. And I never did. Eight years, never gets better, never gets worse. It just is. And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t see it anymore.” Cheryl nodded her, “Uh huh…” waiting to see if Eric had more to say. When she thought he was done, she asked, “That sounds very hard for you. Can you tell me, though, why go to the other dimension? That’s pretty drastic; couldn’t you just change jobs?” “No,” Eric answered, “Because I know it’s all out there. I can’t live with myself if I quit. Or at least I can’t do it here.” That made sense to her. A sad kind of sense. Eric sounded like the kind of person there are too few of, but those qualities that made him so valuable to everyone else were the same qualities that made him so unhappy. Classic burnout. It wasn’t the first time Cheryl had seen this in a client, but it was obviously the worst, and she understood how Eric could believe there would never be an end to it if he stayed. He might even be right, she thought. “Eric, I’m going to be very frank with you. The dimension is more like our world than a lot of people want to admit. In some ways, it’s much, much worse, the way they treat people like us. It’s different in different countries, but in some of them we’re not seen as people. If you’ve heard anyone compare it to slavery and torture, they weren’t wrong. How does that make you feel?” Eric wasn’t surprised. He’d heard it all. It was right there in the web forums: kidnapping, mutilation, mind alteration. Even “Island of Dr. Moreau.” “I know,” Eric replied. “That’s why I came here and not some other place.” “Because you know we only work with people who live in Itali?” “Yeah.” “Well, that was smart of you. Some people get impatient and will go anywhere, or just go somewhere in the dimension and take their chances. You seem like someone who does his research, but I just want to tell you some things to separate fact from fiction: · Itali only permits adoptions through license agencies like ours, and they only adopt direct from our dimension to Itali. Not from any of the other countries there. · While humans can live there independently with the same rights at Bigs, if you adopt yourself out, you’ll have the same rights as a minor there. Anything that is permissible for a Big to do to their own children can be done to you. Anything that is impermissible for a Big to do to their own children cannot be done to you. · You can select the stage of life you wish to begin with as a Little: newborn, infant or toddler. Those are the only choices. That is binding on the Bigs who adopt from us. However, they retain the right to decide the details associated with your stage of life, which may vary from your expectations. Whether and at what pace you progress through life stages, and what point, if any, you stop progressing, is up to the Big. If you choose or consent to it, your Big may further regress you from your current stage at any time. · You’ll notice we call them Bigs. They call us Littles. ‘Amazon’ is a pejorative there. · There’s no amending the adoption agreement. It says what it says. We can make your wishes known to prospective parents, but they can break any promise they make. But we don’t adopt out to just anyone. We thoroughly inspect all of our clients. We wouldn’t work with them if we believed they were bad people. · Our adoption agreement prohibits the following: o Involuntary physical or mental alteration o Giving, selling, or trading Littles o Having custody of any Little not adopted through an agency licensed in Itali o Violations of any Itali laws; suspicion of violations to be investigated, with a preponderance of evidence sufficient to be considered a violation of this agreement o Withholding or unduly delaying adequate medical care o Abuse, neglect, or negligence as defined by The Agency; suspicion of abuse, neglect, or negligence to be investigated, with a preponderance of evidence sufficient to be considered a violation of this agreement o Traveling with the Little to, or sending the Little to, any country where any of the above are not expressly forbidden by law · We have offices in Itali that conduct surprise inspections and work with the authorities there. If they find any violation of the adoption agreement, under the treaty permitting inter-dimensional adoptions between us and Itali, the police are required by law take you into their custody and return you to us. · Unless your parents violate the adoption agreement, you must remain with them as their Little for 10 years. You can asked to be returned to us, but they are not obligated to comply. Conversely, they can return you to us whenever they choose. At the end of those 10 years, you can decide to stay their Little, return to us, or remain in Itali as a full and independent citizen. · Your property and assets with be placed in a trust our non-profit partner manages. If choose to return to us or to become an independent citizen after 10 years, your property will be returned to you less the what we spend eliminating any remaining debt you have here. If you choose to stay a Little after 10 years, your assets, property, and any interest are liquidated, the revenue will be used to pay off your debt, and anything left over will be donated to fund the non-profit. I just want to remind you that Itali is like here; there are good people and bad people. We only work with good, but if you’re looking for a Utopia, that’s not Itali. Does all that make sense? Do you have any questions?” “No. Well, I guess yeah – what happens next,” Eric asked. Eric was familiar with provisions like these. It was part of his job, dealing with foster parents and adoptions. This aligned closely to the laws of he was used to dealing with. He made a lot of those inspections over the years himself. “I know that was a lot to take in,” Cheryl answered, “It’s all in the paperwork I’m going to send you home with. If you have any questions, please reach out to me, and we will be testing you to ensure you read and understood the adoption agreement before we approve you for adoption. So next I’m going to process all the information on those forms we asked you to bring in, then I’m going to call you doctors and last therapist. Our compliance department is going to run the background check you’re allowing us to do, and that includes all of your financial history so we know what we’re taking on when if you decide to move forward. Once that’s done, I’ll be in touch. It usually takes about 10 days for the average person. I’m guessing because of your job you’re going to appear in a lot of court records, so it may take longer. And in the meantime you just go about your life like normal. Don’t make any drastic decisions; don’t go on a spending spree; don’t do anything dangerous or stupid. Anything like that has the potential to cause us to reject your application. If you have any questions, you can call me or one of our licensed therapists – I really encourage everyone to do that anyway. And if at any time you change your mind and want to just forget this, we can do that, too; everything here is confidential, and all your records will be destroyed. Do you have any more questions right now?” With her monologue done, Eric thought for a moment. It was a lot to take in, and even though he was far from the end of it, everything seemed very real now. “Uh, not a question really. Can I tell you one thing I’m looking for in a Big,” Eric asked. “Of course.” Eric felt sheepish. He’d thought about this a lot, and he was embarrassed by it, as if this entire thing weren’t embarrassing. “I don’t know what life stage I want to start at, but, uh, can you, um, put it in my file that I don’t think I ever want to grow up again?” “I can’t promise your Big would abide by that, but I will put it in your file, and we’ll try do our best to find a Big who wants the same as you. Anything else?” “No,” Eric said as he stood up and stuck his hand out. “Thank you for your help. I’ll do all the things you said.” “Thank you for coming in today,” Cheryl replied as she shook Eric’s hand. As Eric reached the door, Cheryl felt compelled to add, “Eric, we’re going to make sure everything turns out right for you. I’ll make sure. And while all this is going on, please … just try to take care of yourself … for me.” Eric nodded and left. Cheryl liked Eric. She had a soft spot for people who had soft spots, and she knew people like Eric were worth protecting. We need more people like him in this world, Cheryl thought, but he needs something else. She understood why Eric wanted to be with a Big who didn’t want him to grow up: so he’d never have to see the kinds of things he saw everyday here. Returning to her desk, Erica started taking in on her notes for the file: Eric is 29 years old and suffers from depression and anxiety which are well controlled with medication … overwhelmed by work and the suffering he sees in the world … is educated and intelligent … is a sensitive and kind person … appears physically healthy … exhibits signs of PTSD, though he has not been diagnosed, and may benefit from therapy post-adoption … will likely need substantial emotional support ... did not admit to any fetish as a motivator .. may have trouble adapting ... desires to NOT progress from initial stage of life … will likely match best with a female head of household looking to dote on her Little and who has a large support network …
  2. Diapers are great during bed time, but what do you like to wear during day? Occasionally I’ll wear girls pull-ups, but I also like to wear girls panty briefs. Girls size 16 fit well !! =)
  3. *sigh* Here I go again... starting a new story when I haven't finished a few. I actually wrote this story before the Little Hunters but I decided to finally begin posting it This is... probably the most ABDL trope thing I've written, but it does involve darker material than I have wrote so I have included a warning. TRIGGER WARNING: This story deals with suicidal tendencies, drug and alcohol abuse. If you are struggling with depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, or drug/alcohol abuse, please seek medical help or talk to someone. As always, I'm here as well, although I'm not as reliable because I only frequent here once or twice a week... but you all matter to me and you aren't alone, as much as it may seem.❤️ Chapter 1 “Another day, another dollar.” I mumbled under my breath as I braided my long light brown hair back in a ponytail. I splashed water on my pale face and pulled on my light kaki work pants and black polo shirt on. I blinked, squinting at the acne blooming on my chin. Great. I’m 22 and I still look like a prepubescence teenager. I sighed, splashing more water on my face and wiping it off with a rag. I grabbed my keys, rustling in the wind as I ran out to my piece of junk car, a 1998 Honda civic. Traces of rust coated the silver car and the wheels squeaked when I made sharp turns. You’d think I’d have my shit together at this age. Yep, I thought the same too. I’m 22, and still have the same damn job I had in high school at Jenkin’s Fun Land. I see Facebook posts of my high school friends who almost have their master’s degrees and others with multiple kids or married. You may be wondering: why am I still struggling? Well… where do I begin? I was valedictorian of my graduating class that encompassed 436 other students. President of the Student Council. Vice president of Debate club. Volunteer for the local humane society on my off time between work and school. I had a full ride scholarship to Harvard. I planned on getting my doctorate in pharmaceuticals. I had my whole life mapped out. By the age of 25 or 26 I’d have my doctorate. By 27 I’d have found the love of my life, be married even. I’d travel of the world for a few years. By 32 I’d have kids and buy the house of my dreams. The perfect student. The perfect daughter. The perfect role-model. It all started spiraling when I started partying my first semester in college. I was part of the Kappa Delta sorority and we were invited to every single party. I had hardly a glimpse of a life in high school. Sure, I had the grades, the ambition, yet one thing I always severly lacked any type of life outside of my afterschool activities. Hardly any friends. An absence of a social life. I never did drugs, never drank. I was good, well, up until college. In college, I came alive. I was a new person and floated into a group of people who were going to school for the same thing as myself. The future doctors of pharmaceuticals. Little do most people know, we all had an interest in trying the exact medications we would fill one day. How else would we know the side effects if not trying it out for ourselves? Before I knew it, I was into all types of drugs. I smoked pot. I took benzos when I wanted. I popped Xanax recreationally. I took Adderall before every exam. I even tried acid. I looked quote unquote “normal”, but no one knew what was really going on inside my head. Not even me. When I wasn’t on drugs, I was drinking. I drank and drank until the world blurred and my brain stopped writing memories down and began forgetting. My new found friend’s would make sure I made it back to my dorm. Make sure I went in my bed. Make sure I didn’t pass out on my back before choking on vomit. It was quite interesting. My friend’s introduced me to these recreational drugs and alcohol, yet I was doing ten times more than them. I didn’t think much about it until one day I couldn’t think at all. I remember the day crystal clear, even though things seemed extremely confusing. I started my day with taking Adderall before class. I had an exam in Biochemistry and hadn’t slept the night before so I definitely needed a hook up. The day drowned on and there was a party that night. I drank a red bull to wake myself up and one of my friends, Oddie, offered me a Xanax. I shrugged and took it out of his hand, chasing it down with a red bull. Why, Xanax? I wanted to relax after a long day of classes; however, caffeine and Xanax, looking back, probably were not the best combination. You’d think, being a pharmaceutical student, I’d be smarter than that. However, my philosophy was to try as many drugs as humanly possible. Explore the different side effects hands on. I love pharmaceuticals, a lot, actually. Little did I know how strong that love was. I didn’t feel anything for a good while. To be quite honest, I almost forgot I took it. When we arrived at the party, I began drinking. Within an hour a did I few shots of fireball. Surprisingly, I couldn’t feel the shots, nor the Xanax. I thought, maybe, just maybe, something else cancelled the Xanax in my system and my liver didn’t absorb it. Maybe it was expired Xanax. I decided to chug a few cans of beer with my guy friends because I didn’t feel a buzz, still. I couldn’t feel a thing. It was as if I was invincible, unable to feel any alcohol or drugs. A few minutes later, it all hit me. Quite suddenly, quite erratically. I was in the kitchen of Kappa Kappa Gamma’s house going to grab a water and suddenly fell to the ground. Waves of seizures racked my body. I didn’t think my body could move like that. I felt tremors but couldn’t control my movements. Vomit choked my throat and I was gurgling noises I had never thought I could make. My brain was screaming to regain control of my own body, yet my body wouldn’t listen. It was a horror movie slowly panning out and I soon realized I was the main character. Someone found me on the ground, but it was almost too late. He moved me onto my side and the vomit came out. Everything was blurry as my eyes watered. I wanted to cry, wail even. I couldn’t, it was almost as if I were paralyzed. Confusion blurs the lines of where I am, who I am. Before I know it, I’m slipping into darkness and can’t wake up. I’m in another world, but still here on Earth. I’m floating through a dark abyss. It feels so real, so deep. Haunting even. I was a ghost traveling through the sea of lost souls, yet I was just another one of them. I struggled to get out of the sea, but it was thick waters that kept hitting me with waves. The undercurrent, continuously pulling me down as I struggled to reach the surface. The next moment I’m feeling conscious again is when I felt pressure on my chest. Someone pressing down repeatedly. Someone’s cold fingers touching my neck, “No pulse. She’s a goner.” A woman’s voice says. My eyes were half open and I could see glimpses of a handsome face, warm brown eyes, and dark brown hair. “I’m not giving up.” A man says. “She hasn’t had a pulse for four minutes. The druggie is dead. Let go already.” No, don’t let me go. I’m still alive. I felt someone’s warm breath fill my lungs twice. Then pressure began on my chest. “Move out of the way, we’ll take over.” A stern voice says to whoever is pressing on my chest. I can hear his breath is ragged and the man who was attempting to revive me was sweating and tired. Giving CPR was a lot of work, especially on someone who should be pronounced dead. “Pulse has been gone for 5 minutes, good luck.” If I were able to get up, I’d strangle her. I’m alive for god sakes! I’m NOT dead yet. The guy who was doing chest compressions got off of me and I felt monitors being attached to me, other fingers touching my neck. Another man spoke, “I feel a pulse.” I was drifting in and out of consciousness as I was strapped to a cart and I could see flashing red lights underneath my half opened eye lids. A man’s voice, “Can I come with to the hospital?” “Are you related to her?” “No.” “Do you know who this girl is?” He coughed, “No, but I’ve been watching her the past twenty minutes. I just want to make sure she is okay.” Who was this guy? It wasn’t Oddie. It wasn’t any of my friends, actually. Where were my friends? I just had woken up, did they even know I was like this? “Thank you for your time, but we can’t bring strangers with on an ambulance.” “I understand.” The man said despondently. “Come on, Daniel. Let’s go home. She’ll be fine.” The rude girl, that kept telling him I was dead, said. After that, I drifted off into sleep again. I went to the hospital for a supposed ‘drug overdose’. They found Xanax, alcohol, and small traces of Adderall in my system and I stayed in the hospital for a week after. And that was the notorious day I was kicked out of Harvard because word got out and they searched my dorm whilst my week stay in the hospital. Campus police found my benzos and marijuana easily underneath my mattress. I lost my scholarship and had to pay back my tuition for the semester I attended the school. When I got home, my parents sent me to a rehab facility when I had absolutely no reason to go there. I wasn’t using anymore when I came back home and went clean, my blood tests even proved it. I went back to my old life and worked back at janky Jenkin’s Fun Land. Ever since then, my parents never could look at me the same. I wasn’t the favorite child. The star student. The role-model to my younger siblings and cousins. The perfect daughter. All of that was gone. All of what made me who my parents were once proud of, taken away in a blink of an eye. Chapter 2 “Hey, Blake! How’s it been?” I squinted my eyes, annoyed, as my back was turned away from the prize counter. I wiped the look off my face as I turned around to see my old classmate, Jessica, from high school, with her 1 year old child in my arms, “Oh, hey. How have you been?” I said with a fake smile plastered on my face, as if I had my life together. I loathed seeing people from high school. I didn’t want to talk about what was going on in my life. What was there to talk about? I got kicked out of my house when I told my parents I got promoted to be a manager at Jenkin’s and now live paycheck to paycheck to make ends meet. Not to mention, I also got kicked out of Harvard before getting kicked out of my parent’s home. I try to avoid the subject at all costs, to be quite honest. Instead, should I mention I eat ramen noodles every day and haven’t had time to even go back to college between work? I live with a roommate but she works at a grocery store and I’ve been taking out of loans to pay her half because she can’t pay the rent. “I’ve been good, I’m pregnant with child number 2 and we just found out it’s a girl! We’re so excited.” She smiled ear to ear as her eyes scanned my face. I blinked, still fake smiling and nodding. She was having children really young but, from a little stalking on Facebook, her boyfriend was a nurse practitioner and made a good living that she didn’t have to work. Jessica wanted children when she was in high school so it’s no surprise that she already was on her second. “So, how have you been?” An awkward pause, “Weren’t you going to Harvard?” I winced internally. Everyone wanted to know what happened, even though I had a feeling that word slipped out and people I didn’t even know heard about my drug overdose. I smiled at her bright blue eyed child and waved and then met her eyes, “I decided it wasn’t for me.” I said promptly, without detail. “Oh.” Jessica didn’t say anything further. Maybe she already knew what happened and just wanted to hear my side of the story. She was a genuine person like that. It was something to appreciate, but it was too touchy of a subject for me still, even though it had been a few years. My fingernails digged into the palm of my hand, sweating. I had a bit of social anxiety, admittedly. I blinked, changing the subject, “What prize would you guys like?” Her boyfriend walked up behind her and touched the small of her back. The thought of a boyfriend of my own flitted across my mind. I had a few within the past years, all failing miserably. I hadn’t dated for about two years but I wasn’t honestly looking either. Seeing Jessica with a guy did make me a little jealous. I wanted that in a way, but I could never find the right guy. I had a lot of abusive, almost stalker-like relationships in the past; however, it didn’t mean I had given up all hope. “We’ll do the purple monkey.” Jessica said, in a tone almost as if I were suddenly a stranger. Ouch, another stinge of pain. I couldn’t say it wasn’t the first time that someone from high school treated me like they didn’t know me, nor would it be the last. “That will be 150 tickets.” I said with a smile that didn’t meet my eyes. She handed me the tickets and I slipped them in the ticket counter. My face felt sticky from the hot weather and the miniature fan on the counter was not doing diddly-squat to circulate the air. It was 90 degrees in Robins, Iowa and the air-conditioning was still not fixed after placing several work orders within the past month. At this rate, by the time the repair men come, the summer months will be far gone and we might as well wait until next year. “Thanks, Blake. You take care, okay?” Jessica said, eyeing me weirdly. Was it that obvious how much I hated my life? Maybe I should just get it tattooed to my face. I drove home after working an open to close shift, for the third day in a row, and would be doing the same tomorrow. I could not sugar coat my life, even if someone held a gun up to my head. I’d tell them to pull the trigger. Hell, I’d take the gun from them and pull it on myself. Did I consider myself suicidal? I wasn’t honest enough with myself to answer that question. I did have self-loathe. Afterall, my parents were ashamed of me; they haven’t even reached out to talk to me in two years. Was it my fault? Quite possibly. If my parents were ashamed of me, then I should be just as ashamed of myself, right? I had been in and out of rehab. I still used drugs recreationally well after college. I still smoked pot to this day, anything to take off the edge. To be quite honest, I was depressed. My parents were proud of me my whole life. I was the first born in the family, the supposed role model. I had two younger sisters who had looked up to me and once I dropped out of college, they stopped looking up to me. Hell, mom and dad wouldn’t even let them text me. They were afraid to associate me with them. I was a failure in their eyes, and they still haven’t forgiven me. I haven’t even forgiven myself. I sped down the expressway, breaking out of my deep thoughts as I saw red and blue lights turn on behind me. I cursed under my breath, “What the fuck.” I pulled off to the shoulder of the expressway. An officer walked up to my beaten up car, flashing a light on my face, “Hello, I’m Officer Earl. Do you know why you were pulled over?” I grinded my teeth and nodded, “I’m sorry I was speeding.” I said looking down. Earl smiled underneath his mustache when I looked back up, “At least you know what you did. Let me see your I.D.” I felt a quick breath of relief leave my body, maybe he’d let me go? I gave him my I.D. He looked at my ID, “Wow, 22? Is this a fake I.D.?” I blinked, why does everyone think I’m so young? I blinked, biting my tongue and attempting not to spew some rebuttal back. He wrote me a ticket for 200 dollars or court. Little to say, I drove to the nearest liquor store on the way home and bought a lot of liquor on my credit card. I opened a bottle of vodka and chugged it on my drive home. Stupid? Absolutely. When you hate yourself, sometimes you punish yourself. This was my punishment. I drove home, surprisingly safely. I got home and went into my wooden night stand, fumbling through pill bottles in my narcotics drawer. I didn’t look at what I was opening, just shaking the pills out and popping them into my mouth. The alcohol making me fearless as I swallowed a few pills down. I laid on my bed, pills scattered beside me as I closed my eyes, waiting for death to seep in. I didn’t deserve to live. I wasn’t made for this life. I fucked up too many times and it was time for me to let go, to pass on into the dark abyss. I blacked out that night, completely unconscious, waking up in a hospital room, dazed and confused. There was a dark skinned middle-aged woman sitting down with black dress pants and a bright pink shirt on in the corner of my room. I asked, “Who are you?” “I’m Leona, your sitter for the night. How are you feeling?” She closed her magazine she was reading. Fuck, of course I have a psychiatric sitter. I hate them because I can’t be alone. Ugh. I shifted, trying to move my arms, “I’m doing great, I just don’t know why I’m here.” I scrunched my face, looking down at my arms that had light blue restraints tied to them, “Why do I have these?” She said, “You were attempting to hurt yourself yesterday so the nurses had to restrain your arms, honey.” I shook my head. What the hell happened? My right side and arm was tender to the touch. I remember just laying on my bed, what else could have happened? “What day is it?” I asked, politely, feeling my dry mouth. “It’s Friday, July 20th.” Holy shit. 3 days passed already? It was Monday when I drank and swallowed the pills. Why can’t I remember the past few days? I sank down in my bed, “Fuck.” I said while shaking my head, my lip trembling. “Oh, look who’s finally awake.” A nurse came in my room, checking my vital signs, “You were in and out of an unconscious state for the past few days from the sleeping pills you took and I think it must have finally ran through your system. Maybe you might be going home tomorrow.” The nurse said as she typed something on her portable computer. “Can you remove the arm restraints?” I asked, feeling the need to itch my nose. “I have to call the on call clinical psychologist to clear your mental status per our hospital protocol before we do that, hun.” I sighed, rolling my eyes. Of course they do. Fuck everything. She walked out, dialing a number on her phone. I could hear her outside the room talking to another nurse, “Dr. Calvin is going to be really pissed that I’m calling him this late.” I looked at the clock; it was 2 AM in the morning. The other nurse said, “Oh isn’t that the dreamy doctor? That doctor Daniel that visits once in a blue moon?” “Yeah, it’s him but he’s a real asshole to nurses.” Great, that’s the type of doctor I want to see. I looked over to Leona as her eyes were closing slowly as she read her magazine, “Psssst.” I said in a whisper as she looked up, “Can you remove the left one so I can itch my nose?” Leona laughed, “Just tell me where your nose itches and I’ll scratch it.” I sighed, shaking my head, “Don’t worry about it.” I scrunched my nose, wiggling it. I slowly dozed off into a nap while waiting for the psychologist. I heard quiet talking within an hour and a calm man’s voice, “How is she doing so far?” “I mean, she’s awake and aware, she’s just irritable since being awake and asked about her restraints.” The nurse said, “As much as I’d like to talk I have another patient I have to check in and hook up so I’ll be back.” I heard the man say to Leona, “I’ll have you step out for a moment so I can speak with her in private.” I opened my eyes and nuzzled my nose into my pillow, looking up to somewhat of a familiar face, “Do I know you?” I couldn’t place my finger on the face. I couldn’t for the life of me, but he looked so damn familiar. His eyes flashed, “You might, but, per patient privacy, I can’t release as to why unless you would like to talk about it.” What does that mean? I was so confused. I scrunched my face in confusion, “Well, I can’t really remember why you look familiar, so I was hoping you could refresh me?” He had black dress pants on and a deep navy blue button up with rolled up sleeves. He didn’t have a white coat on like most doctors but had a name tag badge hooked to his pants, which was humorous to me because it looked like he was trying to sport a new style or fashion. I suppressed a small smile and realized I was looking below his waist for more than a few seconds and that probably was not a good place to be staring. My eyes darted away quickly. He was about 6 feet tall with a muscular frame and looked incredibly handsome. I don’t know if it was the fact that he was a doctor that was attractive but maybe the fact that his face was so warm and friendly, besides the fact that he wasn’t making much sense. He pulled up a chair, taking out his stethoscope, “How are you feeling?” He ignored my question. Now I was really confused. “Okay. I just want to go home.” His hands were gentle as he lifted me forward and touched my back with his stethoscope. I caught a whiff of his cologne and it was enticing. I also caught a whiff of myself and I smelled like urine. I was, to say the least, disgusted with myself. “How are you feeling mentally, Blake?” His warm brown eyes met mine, concerned. I looked in awe at him, he was even more attractive close up. I ignored his question like he did mine, “What’s your name again?” His eyes searched mine, studying me. “Dr. Calvin.” He was emotionless when he said his name, as he pulled away from me. “What’s your first name?” I asked, watching him as he rolled his chair slightly away from me. “Daniel. Do you know your first name?” He asked, almost in a voice like I we’re a toddler. I blinked, noticing his change in tone. “Blake.” I said, dryly, “And the square root of Pi is 1.77245385091 and so on.” My voice sprinkled with sass. His face went thoughtful for a moment and then he smiled, “Good.” He paused, looking annoyed, “Now, I’m going to ask you one more time, and if you don’t answer then I’ll come back after I sleep: how are you feeling mentally, Blake?” Dr. Calvin said, looking at his keyboard on his Microsoft surface tablet. “I’m fine. I just want to go home.” I said, looking down at my bag of urine that was connected to my catheter. I froze, that made sense why it felt uncomfortable in my nether regions. “Drinking alcohol and overdosing on sleeping pills doesn’t sound like everything is fine to me, Miss Hunter.” I winced at my last name. For some reason hearing my last name reminded me of my parents and they probably didn’t even know that I was in the hospital again. If they did, they wouldn’t care anyways. I didn’t want to talk about my issues, especially to someone who’s so handsome and not too much older than myself. He’s most likely married and well off and would never date someone like myself… but that didn’t mean I couldn’t still dream about him later. I smiled and I felt my eyes get watery. I shook my head, “What does it even matter?” I said, realizing I wasn’t even able to wipe away the water collecting near my eyes. “Do you have suicidal thoughts?” He asked, looking up from his tablet. His eyes traced my face and then looked back down quickly. I looked at the ceiling, “Not until recently.” I said as a tear fell down my face. Did I just really admit that? Great, I most likely just sentenced myself to a few more days in this hospital. “Did you lose a job or a loved one recently?” Dr. Calvin studied my face, “You can talk about it with me, that’s why I’m here, Blake.” Snot was slowly running down my nose, “Nope. I’m just one fucking failure after a next.” I said with a laugh at my own misery, in attempt to act somewhat normal as I knew I was falling apart. A few more tears escaped down my cheeks and I sniffed so my snot wouldn’t fall. I had no chance of making myself look like I’m an equal to this man at this point. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” He asked, curiously. I shook my head, “It’s not important.” Dr. Calvin shook his head, “Of course it is. Your life is important.” I frowned, my fingernails digging into my palm, “I got into Harvard and got kicked out and my life’s been a steep slope downhill ever since.” The reminder of it made more tears fall down my face. “Harvard, huh?” His eyes looked concerned, “You have to give yourself more credit, getting into that school is an accomplishment in itself and I’m sure your parents are proud of you still.” I shook my head, “Nope. They cut off ties with me completely. Once I got promoted at my job and began making 14 dollars an hour they gave me a month to find an apartment because they didn’t want me ‘influencing’ my little sisters.” I cried harder, remembering painful memories, a whimper escaping my lips, “But it’s all my fault. I was getting better when I lived with them, going to community college even, and then once they kicked me out I went straight back to drugs and drinking, dropped out of community college completely.” I turned away from him and nuzzled my head into the pillow. He came around my side with a tissue and knelt down near me. He dabbed my nose with the tissue and touched my shoulder, “Do you still feel the need to harm yourself?” I shook my head, “No.” Daniel began removing my restraints, “Then I’ll take these off; however, if you show any signs of self-harm they will go back on.” “Okay. When can I go home?” I said, giving him puppy dog eyes. After all, I’d assume he’d be the one signing my release papers. “It depends on what rehabilitation site you choose.” I wiped my eyes with my free hand. “I have to go back to my job. I can’t lose it, or else I won’t even have a home to go back to.” His eyes looked weary as he looked down at me, “We can discuss other options tomorrow then. You should sleep and I’ll write up a prescription for you to begin taking tonight.” I shook my head, “I don’t do medication.” I said in a statement. “You had Xanax and other recreational drugs your roommate told the ambulatory team so that statement doesn’t make sense to me, Blake.” Ouch, that one hurt. I can’t believe Veronica would snitch on me when she smokes pot. He looked at his tablet, scrolling down, “Do you have anxiety?” I shrugged, “Sometimes. But doesn’t everyone?” I said, sleepily. I was ready to go back to sleep already. You’d think sleeping three days would make you awake but all I wanted to do was sleep. “Panic attacks?” He asked, ignoring my comment again. “Every now and then.” I was feeling more anxious than usual currently but I wasn’t going to tell him that. He got up, “We’ll talk again tomorrow and hopefully get you discharged from the hospital tomorrow evening if everything goes smoothly.” Dr. Calvin said as he peeked outside of my room. I snuggled into my sheets. He talked to the nurse as I slowly lulled into sleep and then was woken to take a pill. I took it and dozed into a deep slumber after the doctor left. I napped on and off the next day. Leona left around 7 in the morning and a new sitter came in to watch me. I was woken up by Dr. Calvin in the late afternoon. “Good morning, Blake.” Dr. Calvin said. I opened one eye and squinted at the time, “It’s 4 PM, Daniel. Good afternoon.” Daniel had the sitter leave the room, “My name is Dr. Calvin to you, Blake.” He said with a bit of annoyance hinting at his voice. “You have two first names in your full name. It’s weird.” I said, rolling over in a grumble. He sat down on the rolling chair and opened his tablet, “Are you feeling irritable still?” “I wasn’t irritable to begin with, it’s just me.” I said, sitting up. I felt like a different person than last night. I showered, with the door open since I’m ‘suicidal’, had my catheter and IV removed, and now I smelled like a normal human again. My hair wasn’t a matted mess and fell down in waves on my shoulder. “Okay then. How would you rate your depression as of now on a scale of 1 to 10? 1 being happy and 10 being of suicidal thoughts.” He asked. “Like a -5.” I said with a fake smile. My eyes not matching my smile so I most likely looked crazy. “Seriously, Blake.” He wasn’t smiling; in fact, his face was blank, like a statue. I had a feeling he didn’t understand my humor. I frowned, fixing my gown, “3.” I played it down a lot, honestly. I’d realistically rate it at a 7 because I just wanted to go home and drink. I couldn’t tell him that though. “If you feel worse, you can tell me.” He paused, his brown eyes studying me, “You don’t have to lie. I’m focused on making you feel better before you leave.” He’s emotionless one moment and the next he’s caring. Sometimes I just don’t understand doctors. I looked out the window, shrugging, “Maybe a 4.” He nodded, typing, “So, we have to go over options for what course of action were going to take to get you on the right track.” Daniel closed his tablet and searched through his bag, pulling out pamphlets, “Realistically, I’d want you to go through the eight-week inpatient program in Marion.” He sighed, “But, because of your living situation, I think your best option would be going through the 16-week outpatient program which is close to where you live in Jasper.” “16 weeks?! I have a really busy schedule and I work just about every single day to barely pay my bills.” I said. “You need to make time for yourself, Blake. I had to pull a lot of strings to make sure that you get help instead of the law intercepting for attempted suicide and paraphernalia.” I shook my head, “I never said I attempted suicide.” “You told us in a half conscious state two days ago and yesterday you mentioned suicidal thoughts.” Daniel said. Well, I guess that might be substantial evidence. There was an awkward silence that followed and he spoke up as he was handing me a pamphlet, “You’ll be going to a therapy appointment two to three times a week. You’ll have a daily journal to write in and goals each week on how to overcome obstacles. There’s a lot more that goes into the outpatient program but we’ll discuss that later.” Without reading, I signed my papers for the outpatient program quickly and was discharged from the hospital that evening. Veronica picked me up from the hospital and didn’t say a word the whole ride home. Hell, she didn’t even say a simple ‘hi’. Veronica was probably tired of my shit. I’ve been making a lot of mistakes the past few weeks and it’s became more frequent as the months have progressed. From drunken nights where she picked me up from bars to finding me passed out in our bathroom with vomit on me, Veronica has seen it all. I felt bad to put her through all of that, but I just needed help. Someone to care for me. I didn’t have that, and I don’t think I ever will again. I got home to my phone and it was completely dead. When I charged it, my phone had about twenty missed calls and voicemails from my boss, Kellie. I called her right away, panicked. “What happened that you ended up in the hospital?” “I had a severe reaction to this new night time medication and was in an unconscious state for a few days.” I said, biting my nails. Kellie paused, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She said, almost as if she didn’t believe me. “I need to discuss hours with you these next few weeks when I come back tomorrow. I have a doctor’s appointment every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 1 PM and I’ll need to probably close on those days.” I said, bracing myself for what she’ll say next. “What are these appointments for, Blake?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Is she even allowed to ask that? I said quickly, “I have to let you go, Kellie, sorry my doctor’s calling.” “Blake-“ I hung up. Nice save. I fell asleep that night and woke up around 3 AM, tossing and turning from my dreams. I felt a cold, wetness underneath my pajama bottoms in a half conscious state. I slowly got up and looked down, feeling the wetness and the stench of urine invading my nostrils. I couldn’t only see the fluorescent green of my alarm clock glowing in my dark room but I already knew what happened. I scrunched my face: did I really pee myself in my sleep? Fuck. I rolled up my sheets and tossed them in my closet, deciding I’d clean them in the morning when Veronica went to work. I looked at my phone and I felt my heart race when I began reading a text from Kellie that she sent late last night. She left me a text stating that we’d have to talk one on one but this week she’d give me Monday off, and I’ll come into work at 4 PM on Wednesday and Friday. I sighed in relief and fell back into a slumber on my semi-wet stripped mattress with one sheet keeping me warm. Monday came and I was dreading driving to the outpatient rehabilitation appointment. I had a half an hour with group therapy and an hour with a psychologist one on one. I didn’t talk much during group therapy and afterwards I sat in the waiting room for my therapist. A man with tattoos all over his arms walked out and then a minute later Daniel walked out with a folder and looked at me, “Blake.” He smiled. For some reason, I didn’t expect in the slightest for him to be my therapist. I thought he was just a ‘clinical psychologist’ not a full-fledged therapist. We walked into a room with dim lights, a book shelf lining a whole wall around a fire pit, a brown soft couch and a chair. He motioned for me to sit on the couch and I shyly sat down near the edge farthest from him, fixing my outfit. I had ripped light colored jeans on and a light purple tie-dye shirt on for Jenkin’s Fun Land. I probably was dressed like a 13-year-old girl but it was still better than the last time he saw me. He sat down, “How are you feeling this week?” I shrugged, “Okay. Everything’s just peachy.” Everything was the same as before I tried putting myself into an irreversible coma. I still worked at a shitty job. I wasn’t happy with my life. I disliked the person I lived with. I didn’t speak to my parents. “Hm.” He said as he thoughtfully looked at me with a pen and paper in front of him, “How’s the medicine working?” I stopped taking it. It’s not like I’d feel anything until six to eight weeks out anyways. There were a few things I retained in my memory from my studies at Harvard. “It’s great, I feel a bit better, just feeling numb but I think that’s just a common side effect.” I shrugged. I knew all of the side effects of course, just another plus of failing medical school. “Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary since you got home? Mood swings? Hallucinations? Incontinence? Anything out of sorts?” Daniel studied my facial expressions. I blinked away a sudden rush of embarrassment. Yes. I somehow wet myself and I haven’t done that in a year or two since my last relapse, “No.” I couldn’t tell him that. It was embarrassing. He nodded, his fingertips touching the 6 o’clock shadow on his chin, “Tell me a little about yourself.” That’s randomly off subject. I stared at the fake fire pit and wondered what I should say. “Like, what do you wanna know? There’s not much about me.” I asked, confused. “What do you like to do?” Daniel asked, interested. It was a question that caught me off guard. I didn’t really have anything I liked to do outside of work besides drinking or taking a Xanax and watching videos on the internet. I used to like playing video games, but I stopped. “I mean, I don’t really have a lot of stuff I like doing.” Daniel asked, “Do you like sports?” I’m an adult and no one hardly plays sports around my age. I shrugged, “Sometimes.” I lied, I didn’t like anything anymore. I enjoyed track, volleyball and tennis in middle school and high school, but those were only things I did for fun with my little sisters once. “That’s your assignment for the week then. I want you to give me a list of five things that you like to do as hobbies.” He said with a warm smile. Five things?! That’s quite a lot. A week passed and on Sunday I came into work and Kellie was waiting for me in the concession area. She was sitting at one of our dining tables and had me sit with her. “You have multiple call-offs this summer and I’m going to have to drop you down to part-tine status as a team member. Sorry, Blake.” Kellie said without a trace of emotion, brown eyes disinterested. I felt air leave my lungs, “But-“ I paused, confused, “I need the money. I can’t live where I’m at without forty hours a week and pay for my insurance. Kellie-“ “Look, Blake, I need a manager who’s serious about their job and shows up every day and I know you have needs but so do other people.” She was stone cold as she walked away. That night I wanted something to take the edge off. I needed some alcohol or a pill to help me. I refrained from drinking and going into my secret stash of pills that I hid underneath the floor boards. I couldn’t sleep that night because I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I couldn’t tell Veronica, because then she’d freak out. I didn’t have any friends in this area. I got two hours of sleep, even though I could sleep in before my appointment. I would have to find a new job to work when I’m not at Jenkin’s. I couldn’t handle the stress as it is and I don’t know how I would handle this too. I came to therapy with Dr. Calvin as a complete mess. “How are you feeling today?” It seems like he asks that every day. My lip began trembling, “Not good.” A tear falling down my face. I wiped away with my sleeve of my light grey sweatshirt. “What happened, Blake?” Daniel asked, eyes suddenly concerned. “I-“ I shook my head, “I’m getting demoted at work for missing so many days.” I began crying and I couldn’t look up. Daniel knelt near me and brought tissues over. He hugged me, “It’s going to be okay, Blake.” My back stiffened. Did doctors usually hug their patients? This never happened in rehab. I shook off the thought as I whimpered, “How? I’m going to be homeless next month. I can’t even afford groceries let alone gas.” “We’ll figure something out.” Daniel said pulling away, his hand still rubbing my back. The feeling of someone else’s touch was so foreign to me. As his fingertips grazed my back, tingles went up to my brain, making me feel fuzzy, warm. I felt momentarily dazed as I sat there. I sniffled, “My mom won’t even talk to me. I tried calling her yesterday night and she wouldn’t pick up.” I whimpered because it hurts that my mom won’t even talk to me. She won’t even acknowledge my existence anymore. I could be dead, and that wouldn’t have mattered to her. “I’m sure she’ll let you live with her.” Daniel continued, “Let me know what happens in a week, okay?” A week passed of me calling my mom and dad every day. No one answered. I began to think that they blocked me. I sent a few texts and no replies. I told Veronica about my situation and she said she was moving into her boyfriend’s house in a month. Somehow, in a week’s time, everything around me was falling apart, and, by default, so was I. “So, any news from your mother or father?” Daniel asked, his face hopeful. Little did he know that my mom was alienating me from the family. It’s as if it were a cult and since I was an outsider, I was being excommunicated by anyone associated. I sank in my chair and didn’t say anything, staring at the tan carpet. “Blake?” He said, concerned, “How are you feeling?” “A 10.” I said, beyond sad. I didn’t want to be here anymore and I didn’t care about life. Everyone was leaving me. I wasn’t worth anything. I was worthless, quite honestly. “Do you want to harm yourself?” Daniel asked, sitting up straight. My fingernails were already making my palms bleed. I closed my eyes and my body was completely tense. I didn’t want to talk anymore. This was all a waste of time. I was going to pull the plug tonight. “Blake, do I need to take you to the hospital?” He was studying me when I opened my eyes. My jaw was tight, “No.” Daniels fingers were tapping his legs, “This is completely out of the scope of my profession, but…” He hesitated, “in the case you don’t have a home, you can stay with me. I have plenty of space and an extra guest room for you there.” I looked at him, not wanting to hear his words, “Really?” He nodded, “I’ve been thinking about it for a bit now and it’s the best option for you. You wouldn’t have me as a therapist anymore though. I would have to switch you to a different outpatient program.” It seemed weird being that he was my therapist but I needed a home and I couldn’t be picky. It was either that, or living in my car. I nodded, “That would really help.” I said, looking down shyly. “There would be rules, of course. Knowing your condition, I may be having you leave your job but I can take you to an outpatient center while I’m at work.” I’d get to leave my job?! That would be a dream. “I’d only stay for a month or so until I find a better job.” I said. I probably wouldn’t find a job in that time but I could at least try my hardest. Daniel shook his head, “No need. You can leave your job for a little while and figure things out.” Was he planning on having me stay there for a while? I was taken aback on how nice he was being. It was quite unusual for a doctor to be this caring.
  4. Monday June the 6th at 8:30 am. The receptionist for Doctor Lewis said. Great I thought I have to take 2 more hours off of work. I work as a Physical Trainer at the gym. I'm about 6 foot 1, 245 pounds I have muscles in all the right places. I'm 24 years old. Dark hair, I could probably have any girl I want, except for one reason at 24 years old, the reason I'm seeing Doctor Lewis is because at 24 im stil a bedwetter! Dr. Lisa Lewis is a Urologist. My brother Gary was a bedwetter as well he came here and found out that he wasn't producing very much diuretic Horemone. He doesn't wet his bed anymore after getting what he needed. They ran the tests and in about 3 weeks I hope to be umung the dry sleepers like Gary. I carry on doing my job, I wonder what these people that I work with would think if they knew I still wet my bed? I mean I'm built but I can't hold my pee at night. I'm strong but weak. 3 weeks later I'm back at Doctor Lewis's Office. I'm sitting there and a girl comes out she is crying, wonder what happened? I offer her my handkerchief. "Thank you!" She says. She sits and wipes her eyes with my handkerchief. "Is everything okay?" I ask? "No, Doctor Lewis said she couldn't help me." She said. "What's the matter, why can't she help you?" The lady blushed "Uhh, she can't help me, stop." "Stop what," I asked forgetting that Doctor Lewis specializes in bedwetting. The girl blushed an even deeper shade of red. "She can't help me stop..... wetting my bed." "She told me that, it isn't the Horemone thing. My bladder is big enough she said medically there is no reason why I still wet my bed, I'm 23 years old!" "I'm 24, I still do to!" "Greg Spencer!" They called my name. "The Doctor will see you now!" "My turn" I said now dreading the trip. Dr. Lisa Lewis met me. We went into an exam room. "Greg I have run the tests and frankly there isn't much I can do to help you unlike your brother you produce diuretic Horemones, your bladder is structurally sound. I can't find a single reason why you would still be wetting your bed. I know knowing that doesn't mean you don't. But still there is nothing I can do to help you!" Now I know how that woman felt in the waiting room, I felt like someone had just kicked me in the guts. I walked out and the lady was still sitting there. "I still have your hankie! Doesnt look like you had much more luck than me!" "No, your right. I didn't ." "Sorry, I'm Rachel and your?" "Greg Spencer!" "That's right, I did hear them call your name. I'm Rachel Baker by the way! You want to grab some brunch!" "Sounds like a great idea, I don't want to be left alone for a while!" "Neither do I said Rachel!" We went to IHOP which was close to the medical center.
  5. PART ONE Chris was leaving New Orleans. He was moving home, for a bit. He never really got his shit together. But, he got by. Bouncing around the country by the generosity of his friends, and the kindness of strangers. Always looking for the next big adventure. The spoils of New Orleans were great. His personal favorite was his apprenticeship to a voodoo priestess. Even though, it was the reason he was leaving New Orleans in such a hurry. The community did not agree with her bringing a man into the coven. His friend Dana was letting him rent her guest house. She was happy to have a reason to kick her ex out of it - and, Chris was happy to see her. Dana had curves in all the right places. She was perfect. The grace of an angel, and a fury like the devil. Chris, and her met in high school, and stayed close ever since. They never dated, or even hooked up. He would have. If only she didn’t know she was out of his league. Then, and now. Dana was the opposite of Chris. She really got her shit together. Shortly after graduating she started her own business, cleaning houses. Her first employee was her best friend, Shannon. The two of them cleaned thirty houses a week. It took off in the first few years. She hired dozens of women, to clean hundreds of houses. And never had to work again. They partied, like old times, the whole first week he was there. Dana wasn’t as good as she once was. The last night, she drank so much she pissed herself mid sentence. Chris was deluged with memorable fantasies, that started out just like this… ending with her in a diaper. He, drunkenly, jumped at the chance to indulge. Before Dana even knew what she was doing. “Is little Dana having an accident?” Chris said mockingly. “What!” Dana shouted, swaying and staggering before realizing. Her legs bowed out and she grabbed her crotch with both hands. Unable to stop the dark patch from growing down her tight blue jeans. “Oh my god, I’m peeing my pants!!!” She looked at Chris helplessly as she finished. Her cheeks were red, and her big doe eyes were full of shame. And welled with tears. “Do we need to go get you some depends? Thirty is a little young…” Chris jested. “Stop! It isn’t funny!” She demanded. Stomping her little ugg boot on the patio floor, and making a pouty face. “I’m going to clean up, and go to bed.” she added before hanging her head in humiliation. “Cool. I can help. Do you want me to run up to the pharmacy and get you some diapers?” Chris asked. Joyfully continuing to poke fun at her. “Ugh! No.” She growled, frustrated at how much she just embarrassed herself. “So… you already have some them? Good, let’s go get you all cleaned up little girl. Do you have wipes, and powder? How often do you piss yourself Dana?” He realized he took it a bit too far in his lustful excitement. “Gross! No.” Dana declined. Almost laughing, but mostly scrunching her face in disgust at the thought of Chris putting her in a diaper. “Gross. Not funny dude. Goodnight.” Chris took a few pictures, and a video when she turned away to drunkenly stumble towards her room, before returning to the guest house. Chris laid in his bed replaying the video over, and over. Mesmerized by her beautifully full hips swaying, in her pee pants. Continuing the fantasy in his head. When he realized he could do it. He totally had a way to make her his little diaper girl. He dug through a few of his drawers, fetching a small pouch of fine powder. Before turning his attention to a tote filled with all the adult baby things he’s collected. He usually plays alone, but he had some things tucked away incase he ever stumbled upon his chance to put a cute girl in diapers. He ordered it all from his favorite store, littleforbig. He packed everything he needed into a diaper bag, and made his way towards the house. Chris crept into Dana’s room, and poured a small amount of the fine powder into his hand. Before nudging her awake. “Huh…what?” Dana mumbled before really waking up. “Chris what are you doing in my room.” “Don’t worry. You won’t remember any of this tomorrow.” He, not so, assured her. “What the fuck?… Get out!” Dana protested, but it was too late. Chris let out a bellowing breath, and Dana inhaled a cloud of white smoke. Her head hit the pillow, and her muscles all tensed. She was still aware of what was happening, but she couldn’t move, or talk. She laid helplessly in her bed. Watching Chris rifle through her closet and dresser. Convincing herself that this was just a nightmare. “These will do just fine.” He finally said. Returning to her bed. He pulled the cover off, and proceeded to undress a helpless dana. “I guess it’s no fun, if you can’t talk.” Chris said, waving his hand at her. Dana took a gasping breath. “Wait… wait… what’s happening… why can’t I move?” Her voice was trembling. “Chris I don’t want to have sex… this is a dream. this is just a dream.” “Don’t worry, were not going to have sex. I just couldn’t sleep thinking about you sleeping in here, without proper protection. After your little accident earlier.” He began to unpack the contents of the diaper bag onto Dana’s bed. “Oh my god! Chris. I was drunk. I don’t need to wear that!” protesting at the sight of a diaper in her size. “It’s ok. Don’t be embarrassed.” he cooed. Sliding a diaper under her butt, powdering her generously, and taping it around her shapely hips. “Is that better?” “NO! Chris please take it off?” she pleaded. “You’re right. We better use two. You don’t don’t want any leaks. We drank a lot tonight.” Ignoring her appeal. Sliding another extra padded diaper under her, and taping it shut over the first. She whined, and started to cry as chris - barely - dressed her in part of the sexy unicorn costume she wore for Mardi Gras. “If you don’t be a good girl I’m going to have to give you a spanking.” “NOOO!!!!” Dana wailed, starting to cry harder. “No crying! Be a good baby girl, and at least try to be cute!” Chris shouted, blowing another dose of powder in her face. Dana sat on her Bedroom floor. Wearing nothing but a little girl’s bib, a pair of pink and white lace stockings, a little pink tutu, and two thick adult diapers - pink nursery print, and all. Hair pulled up into pigtails, and tied in place with ribbons. Her long, legs bent out in front of her. Toes wiggling. She drooled through a coy smile, as she looked at Chris through glassy, confused eyes. Squirming in the seat of her diaper. Dana desperately didn’t want to do what she was about to do. She used what little control she had to hold it off as long as possible. Screaming on the inside, but giggling like a baby on the outside playing with her big perky breasts. Trapped in the prison that was her eyes.
  6. Hi Everyone! I've noticed that a lot of AB/DL YouTube videos and some bloggers are now using the word "dips" as an abbreviation for diapers and I just wondered when this word first started to be used and whether it's part of established terminology that people would use for our favourite underwear in the "diaper" countries I've never come across it in any stories, so I wondered if it's used purely by this community? I've seen variants like "di-dees" and "dipies" in stories, but never "dips". I've be keen to learn more about the origins of this term, and to learn what other short forms of nappy and diaper people use. Thanks all! Hugs xx
  7. WGlory B Gloria Beatrice Stallings wasn't your normal 35 year old. She was 35 yes but looked younger. She also acted younger. Oh she had a job she worked in the billing office of a major corporation in Phoenix Arizona. Most of the guys there thought she was cute and we're always hitting on her. They were trying, her grandma told her trying to get into her pants. Gloria Beatrice was called Glory Be by her family. For the life of her she didn't know why guys were trying to get into her pants, they wouldn't like what they found there. She lived with her grandmother, who it seems had room for every discarded grandchild that her grandmother's children just didn't seem to want anymore. Glory Be. Was one of those her parents tired of the fact that she never grasped the concept of toilet training. Glory Be wore diapers so she wouldn't soak her pants. She learned to poop in a toilet but not urinate. Her parents tired of it and shipped Glory Be off to grandma when she was 8. There were other cousins and family members at Grandma's house right now there was her and Gregory her cousin living with grandma. At one time there were 4 others. Greg was a troubled teen he had assaulted a brother and a sister in the home. He was going to be homeless if not for grandma. Right now it was just those two. Greg was arrested he had seen the get rich quick life of dealing drugs. He was making $800 dollars a day easy on Friday and Saturday that could rise to $1200 a day at 15 he loved what he was doing. He had a place he dealt of, he knew grannie would kill him if she knew what he was doing. He would leave under the guise of going to school every morning but the truth was he hadn't been to school in several weeks. Grandmother never asked where the money came for the clothes he wore and the help with the food and expenses, he told her he had gotten a job as a bag boy at a supermarket. She believed him. One day as he was selling his wares he noticed a whole bunch of people he didn't know in his neighborhood. If he had been smart he would of up and ran like his competitors he was glad that they weren't out selling like him, it was a Tuesday he had already made a Saturday wages and it wasn't even noon yet. He sold to a guy that had asked him about what he had and the cost he made the deal and,.... Bam the next thing he knew he was tackled and cuffed up, the guy was a cop, how could he be so stupid? Grandma got the call. She said What the hell, and that little son of a..... she censured herself before she cussed more. She called Glory Be who had to leave work early to drive grandma as she doesn't have the best eyesight anymore. Besides she owes grandma a lot. Her cousin had his arraignment, he was charged with Possession less than two pounds, distribution of a controlled substance. His saving grace was that he was being cooperative. He was telling who his supplyer was and he had been busted as well. Since he was so cooperative they were charging him as a juvenile as he was still one. They could of easily charged him as an adult. Grandma didn't have a lot of money, they got Greg a public defender. Glory had to change her diaper it had been lunchtime when she had last changed. That was 5 hours ago. No wonder she was soaked. They got home about 9pm it had been a long day. The house seemed empty to Gloria without Greg. He was missed. She was mad and sad. Mad she thought that Greg knew better than to deal drugs. If not she was sure they had taught him about the dangers of them. That was using not selling. Sad he was her cousin after all. He was in a place for her was scary in her mind. She didn't even want to think if he gets sent to a prison for kids. It may not be as stringing as adult prison but it isn't a picnic either. Glory Be got her nighttime diapers on they were cloth with plastic panties. She thought these are my prison. I'm locked in these day in and day out! That night glory had a nightmare that she was sent to prison, everybody knew she was diapered out of need. The worse part was she lived in constant fear that they were going to take her diapers from her. That she would have to wear wet panties all the time. Being embarrassed like that was scarier than the prison itself to her.
  8. Just wondering if there were any other diaper lovers around the London, Ont area. Looking for platonic friendship (m or f) to have hangs out, or game with etc... Just want to get to know people who love diapers as much as I do!
  9. This role play is about a women who has agreed to be a couples little girl.
  10. How old were you when you discovered your love of diapers?
  11. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have been an avid reader of diaper stories for many years now. I finally decided to take the plunge into the deep end and write my own story. I'll be using the Diaper Dimension as a basis, because it has always been my favorite setting. It has been a dream of mine to become an accomplished author, so critiques are welcome. And this is the very first story that I've published on the Internet. Guess there's a first for everything! DIAPER DIMENSION - PORTAL ACCIDENT By LtlGary PART ONE Quentin woke up in the middle of a grassy field. He brushed his platinum blonde hair out of his eyes and squinted at the orange sun in the sky. Glancing around, he saw his backpack lying on the ground next to him. He gingerly checked it over, not finding any damage. He breathed a sigh of relief as he walked over to a nearby hilltop to gather his bearings. Off to the west, he saw a small town. Guess I better head there and see where I ended up. It was only a few moments ago that Quentin, a theoretical physics student at Miramar College, was using the lab to test his theory on the creation of an Einstein-Rosenberg bridge. A split second after he started the test, there was a power fluctuation and the 5½ foot skinny student vanished and the next thing he knew he was no longer in the college lab anymore. He spent the next few hours exploring the town, taking care not to be noticed. The Amazons, as they called themselves, seemed to have partnered with humanity to build a thriving civilization. Electric vehicles zipped along tree shaded roadways. Tall buildings dwarfed the landscape, overshadowing the Amazon families as they walked and played with their Littles. Everything was larger, even the doors! A large pit formed in his stomach. The sound of women talking grabbed his attention. The women were having an animated discussion as one of them was pushing a stroller containing a baby girl. Except the fact that she looked to be his size! “What’s wrong, Alexa?” One of the women stopped, reached into the stroller, unstrapped her ‘child’ and picked her up. She put her hand under the girl’s dress. “Yup, someone needs a fresh diapee.” She gave the girl a pat on the bottom and then put her back in the stroller. “We’ll get it changed in a jiffy!” The 4 of them walked inside a large bathroom. Quentin could not believe what he just saw. The girl definitely was wearing a diaper – a pink frilly one with red hearts all over it! Was the girl the lady’s daughter? She seemed a little too old to be treated like a baby. What the hell is up with this world? Quentin decided to double check his research. He walked into a nearby library. Walking back to the back corner, he climbed a chair and pulled out his notebooks. He had to stand on top of the chair as all the furniture was built for Amazons. Spreading his work out, he took out a pencil and began to go over the equations. Minutes became hours as he reran the calculations, occasionally making notes in the margins. He failed to notice the Amazonian librarian who was glancing at his work over his shoulder. She was surprised to find a Little dressed as he was. And he wasn’t even diapered! The librarian, Naomi, had already seen a few mistakes. “You forgot the minus sign, dear.” She remarked softly. Quentin nearly jumped out of his chair! “Christ, you scared me!” He squeaked in fright. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t help but notice your work. You would have definitely passed my Portal Mechanics class.” “You teach?” “High school. I had to take some time off for family issues.” She neglected to tell him that she had recently ended a long term relationship. Naomi desperately wanted children, but she needed to find the right man. “I see.” Quentin nervously glanced at her. He wrung his hands. Naomi noted that he looked really cute when he was embarrassed, even if he only was half her height. “C-C-Could I get some pointers?” “Sure thing.” She gently put her hand on his shoulder and they spent the next hour working out his mistakes. She was patient, often suggesting small ideas to get his mind along the right path. However, Quentin had no idea how he was going to get back to his own dimension. Soon the PA system interrupted their collaboration. “The library will be closing in 15 minutes.” “Thank you so much for helping me.” Quentin packed up his notebooks. “My pleasure. The experience helped me dust off my teaching skills.” Naomi walked with him outside. “So where is your Mommy or Daddy?” “Umm….” Quentin didn’t know how to answer her. “You want to know what I think? I think you came from another dimension, but got stuck here and you’re trying to figure out what went wrong.” Quentin’s cheeks burned bright red. “It was the clothes, wasn’t it?” He whispered softly. Naomi nodded. “Any Little that doesn’t have an Amazon Mommy or Daddy sticks out like a sore thumb. Don’t worry, I’m not going to kidnap you, like they do on other islands. But Littles cannot be out and about by themselves. It’s the law.” Quentin looked up at her, tears starting to run down his cheeks. “What am I going to do?” Fear began to form in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly he was plucked off his feet as Naomi held him in a warm embrace. “Don’t you worry, little one. You can stay at my place. I have plenty of room.” She looked him in the eye. “But only if you truly want to. I won’t force you. However, you have nowhere else to go.” As if on cue, Quentin’s stomach rumbled. He blushed and murmured. “Maybe for a few days until I get this situation figured out.” “Fair enough.” She clicked a button on her keys, and a nearby car beeped as the rear passenger door opened. She gently set Quentin into the booster seat and belted him in. The car ride only lasted an hour. He stared out the car window, his eyes deep in thought. He barely noticed the vehicle finally coming to a stop. After she carried him out, he gasped. “Your house is huge!” Naomi’s home sprawled over a six acre lot. Three stories, six bedrooms, three bathrooms, large kitchen, living room and garage. “My parents helped me out. They own multiple factories here, employing thousands of workers. Come, let me get you something to eat.” She carried him inside. Depositing Quentin on the couch, she busied herself with making a few sandwiches, as most of the restaurants were closed. Quentin managed to find the television remote and inadvertently found the cartoons. “Dinner’s ready!” Naomi called a few moments later. Quentin wandered into the kitchen, and paused when he saw the high chair. Naomi was about to speak but he held up his hand to speak. “I got to thinking on the ride here, that there is little to no chance of me returning home. Most likely I end up in another dimension where I don’t have access to Portal technology. So I might as well accept the fact that I’m stuck here. And for the record, I don’t mind being treated like a toddler. Hell, I didn’t stop wetting the bed until I was 12. Losing my parents didn’t help either. And now this wonderful world gives me a chance to start over.” He took a breath. “I hope I’m not inconveniencing you by staying here.” “As a matter of fact, I’m glad you came. Otherwise I would have donated it to the nearest charity. My boyfriend wasn’t happy that I bought all of it. He wanted to spend a few years as just the two of us but I was desperate to start a family. We parted amicably, but I always wanted a family. And I would be happy if you joined mine.” “I would be honored, Mommy.” Quentin raised his hands. Naomi pulled off his polo shirt. She then picked him up and took off his shoes and socks. His pants followed shortly after. Wearing only his double seat Power Ranger briefs, the young man was deposited into the high chair and the tray clicked in place. Sandwiches followed, and Quentin devoured them all. Naomi followed up with a sippy cup full of milk, of which he drained dry. He was sure to smear peanut butter and jelly all over his face. Naomi cleaned his hands and face with a disposable wipe and then she carried him into the bedroom. “I love the designs on your undies. If you want, I can have the designs uploaded into the 3D printer when the diaper supply runs low.” “I’d love that! Power Rangers was my favorite TV show growing up.” She laid him on the changing table and removed his briefs. Holding his legs in the air, she used a wet wipe to clean his bottom, as he never did a good job of wiping himself after using the toilet. A splash of baby powder followed, and soon a thick disposable diaper was placed under Quentin’s bottom. The tapes were securely fastened, and he was laid in a crib. He initially wanted to tell her that he wasn’t tired but a yawn escaped his lips. She handed him a white baby blanket and in a few moments he was asleep.
  12. Let me tell you an almost true story! Me and my wife had been married for years. Our kids were all grown. We still loved each other but sex had gone out the window when the kids were growing up. Life happened you know busy, busy, busy! Oh I still worked out went to the gym even in my 50's, people thought I looked late 30's early 40's. My wife has always looked youthful she was only 2 years younger but I often got accused of robbing the cradle. Well getting older and trying to lift weights with the young ones doesn't mix! I developed a hernia. I thought I had appendicitis. Same spot as my appendix. I got the surgery got the mesh implanted. About a year or so later I would get pain where the surgery was. That is sometimes normal, but when I felt the pain I would sometimes wet my bed! That was embassing, to say the least I'm 50 something years old bedwetting is for kids and teens not a grown ass man like me! My wife was wonderful, I expected her to berate me, yell at me, whatever. I don't know if I could of been as kind if the tables had been turned. Fast forward a couple of years. It was getting so that if I had a major pain I was wet, even just a minor twinge where I had the surgery I would wake up wet. I started buying Abriform L4 they are pretty expensive I was diapering myself every night just in case. There were nights that I hadn't wet and basically wasted a diaper. As there were nights I slept dry and pulling the white tabs off the blue ones still tore the diaper a bit. The biggest nag I got from my wife was the nights I was dry and basically wasted a very expensive diaper from not using it. On days I would wake up dry I wet it on purpose just to justify the use. I guess I'm old school as that still felt like a waste to me. Along the way I found out I liked being a bedwetter, it was kind of a turn on for me. I thought I was nuts, what grown man likes to wet his bed. I started researching adult bedwetting and holy crap, I found out I'm not the only one! I'm not nuts after all. I wanted to be wet every night but it wasn't happening. I had another surgery on my shoulder torn rotator cuff. They catheterized me I was watching the bag fill and I wasn't even realizing I was loosing urine. Light Bulb! As Gru says. Why don't I just get a catheter and wet inside my diapers I mean I don't have to use the collection bag. Easier said than done I ran into you got a prescription for that? No. I was looking on Wish.com low and behold catheters. I started waiting for the little window to pop up asking for a perscription. There wasn't any and they arrived. Unfortunately, they didn't come with a syringe to pump the bladder ball. Tryed using them without and they kept sliding out. Disapointment! I ordered a syringe. 6 weeks later it arrived . I had my catheter in me and it was staying. I diapered myself and went to bed. I awoke in a puddle my diapers couldn't handle everything my bladder sent their way that and my junk had moved and was in the wrong direction. I started thinking. You know but it's weird woman's panties would keep my pee pee down. I bought my first nylon woman's panties. It kept it pointed in the right direction all right but I still was soaking my bed as I was totally wet! I started buying diaper doublers, plastic pants anything I could think of to contain my urine. My diapers made me waddle I was so thickly diapered. I was happy I was waking up soaked every day without having to worry about wasting diapers. My wife usually watched our grandkids at night at their house. My daughter and son in law both work overnights. I could indulge and not have to worry about my wife thinking I'm weird. My daughter got sick and we were together as my daughter was home with the kids and my wife was home with me. I was usually cathed and diapered before her coming to bed. My wife was still supportive she knew that I had a bedwetting problem and as long as I cared for it. She never said a negative word to me. One night in in the process of cateterizing myself. She walks in with my catheter half in and half out. Whoops! What are you doing she asked? Uhmmmm, I came clean told her about the past few months how I had been cathetered and I have been wetting my bed without any type of recollection. She asked me why. I told her it makes me feel naughty. She thought about it for a moment. Could you make me feel naughty? I think the smile on my face said it all. I let her start the catheter as I didn't know what hole it went into. The next thing is she is spraying urine. I got a diaper and contained most of her urine. I said you haven't gone potty have you? No she said I was going to go pee in a few moments that's why I came in was to go. She said it felt weird but I loved it it was like no control at all like when I was little. She had the catheter in her. I diapered her thickly like I was! We cuddled in bed for the first time in months. I felt her move and she was feeling the inside of her diaper. I'm soaked she said with a smile I feel naughty! Just like I used to feel when I was a little girl of 5 and wet my bed still. You never told me you used to wet your bed, I said! I didn't I thought I did, why do you think I never threw a fit about your bedwetting? I did until 7 years old. I missed it sometimes I like feeling babyish, not having control like this. Do you understand? Perfectly i said! We went into the bathroom and started. Getting out of our wet diapers and when I got to my panties. Wow she said I love you can we get me some whitie tighties! I've always wanted some. She blushed. Of course we can get you anything you want! After we were scrubbed, all disposables disposed of, washables washing, she led me to our bed naked we spent the morning making love to each other. If I had to admit it, I believe it was one of our best sessions in all our years of marriage. It Was great. That day we got her whitie tighties she got me some cotton panties. She told me they turn a golden yellow from your pee especially the crotches! At least they did when I was a kid! I was not surprised that night when she came and wanted a catheter, she said I already went pee! This time I got her ready and she got me ready. While she was doing me she said I can already feel my pads inside my boys undies getting wet! I knew what she meant! The next morning she was all smiles! Daddy I'm wet she said! I felt my manhood come to life. I said me to mommy. I saw her shiver she was turned on. She got on line most of the day, I didn't know what she was doing she spent over $300 dollars on things, was all she would say. About 3 weeks later all kinds of packages arrived. It was mostly onesies. Pacifiers, baby bottles with nipples the size I've never seen before. Other things she didn't want me to see. That night she got me naked after I went pee. Now I'm not the biggest guy down there. Porn stars will never have to worry about me putting them out of a job. After my catheters was in I felt a cold band around my testicles, then something went over my penis she had to smash it to get it to fit, I looked and I had a metal contraption over my penis. What's this I asked as I saw the tip of my catheter poking out around hole in the end. It's called a chastity cage she said! What for I asked, I've been faithful to you. I know, I know but I want to have you wear it! That's fine I said but.. But what? It's made of metal and I have to pass through a metal detector every morning to get to my office! I work in the courts system I'm a records keeper. Oh Pooh she said I seen it was important to her. How about nights and weekends, vacations. The smile returned to her face deal, just not daytimes at work. Deal I said! She said I got something for you for me. She brought out an egg looking thing she put some lubricant on it and stuck it in her kitty. She handed me a little thing that looked like a car alarm but had a display. She turned it on and said move that side up! I did as I was told and she looked like she wanted to collapse! You okay I asked! I hadn't made the connection that the higher I moved the dial up the more distressed she looked. I saw her leaking fluids they were running down her legs and dripping on the floor. That's when I realized the egg was a vibrator! I quickly turned down the volume, intensity and she began to breath again. Sorry, I said I didn't realize what it was at first. Quite alright she said I kind of enjoyed it! Again? She asked? I was more than happy to oblige I didn't go as high as last time I saw her shudder and knew she was having an orgasm! I turned the tone down she looked more comfortable but said your no fun! This time I moved the dial up quickly she leapt 6 inches in the air! A moan escaped her mouth. Slowly I moved the dial down as she came off her tippy toes. I turned it off and she pulled the string out which brought the egg out as well. She smiled I love it she said! Me too I said! I was ready for sex but with the cage on me that was out of the question. She put my panties on and gave my cage a little pat. Now you got a clit like me and your wearing panties woman's panties! She got me dressed in my diapers and pads. She put new pink plastic panties on with pink ruffles and I heard a click they locked. I was locked inside my plastic panties. I dressed her and she had dark blue plastic panties that had light blue ruffles. Hers locked as well. Then the Onesies came out the pink one that I thought was hers was mine and the blue one was hers. I was given a pink baby bottle with milk. It had been a while but soon I was suckling like an old pro. After that she stuck a pink pacifier in my mouth and clipped the pink to strap you my pink onesie. Hers was blue. Next day when I awoke I said morning. Morning who she asked? I was confused morning mommy he said! Okay morning mommy! How is my little sissy this morning? Sissy I thought then yep I'm pretty in pink I thought I'm good mommy I said in one of my best little girl voices. She gave me a smile. Is my little girl as wet as her mommy? Yes mommy I am! Another smile. She led me to our bathtub in the outer hall she removed everything. She undid my cage and slowly pulled out my catheter. Then relocked it. She ran some bathwater and but some bubble bath in the tub it was very effeminate smelling. She got me in and began scrubbing me like she would a child. She said I got to clean your clitty. She washed around my cage cleaning my testicles. She said your clitty is all clean she got me out and dried me off after rinsing the excess suds of. She had me undress her and called me daddy to let me know I was in that role now I cleaned up my little girl. I was dressed in pink womans undies again these were the softest I had felt. She used garters and slipped up pink nylons then a pink dress and a blonde wig with pigtails. She put her boys undies they were green and had the incredible hulk on them then a blue shirt that said play ball and had a baseball on it. Then Levis and a Indians baseball cap. Other than her hair she looked like a teen boy today I'm the man. And your the girl got it. Yeah I got it we spent all day just playing different roles it was an eye opener just to see how the other half lived. That night my princess dress was removed as well as my cage and I got to be the man again. She became my wife again we made love well into the night.
  13. If you would like to roleplay with me, feel free to pm me, I'll roleplay with you, you can do whatever RP you want with me, as long as i'm babied.
  14. From the album: evilengine selfies

    Same as before, fresh out the shower, a little closer. Jeez does the ass get poofy in these things.
  15. From the album: evilengine selfies

    Once again I do my little test, and sure enough these things do swell!
  16. Kassiani pursed her lips as she stood, arms folded behind her back, next to her partner. Before them, a sobbing woman had her hands over her eyes, looking like her shaking legs might give out beneath her at any given moment. A man had his hand on her shoulder, trying to whisper soothing words in her ears. The couple was rightfully devastated. It was late, half past ten last she checked, and the woman before her – Mrs. Evelynn Hogan had gone up to give her little boy a late night bottle. It was not uncommon for parents to feed Littles late in the night in the first year. It further promoted healthy bladder movement. Tonight, however, she’d gone up to an empty room; crib abandoned, sheets mussed up, window open. It was only natural she call the police, and Kassiani had been called not long after that. She and her partner were investigating an increased number of disappearing Littles. The count was up to twenty three. Nine little boys, fourteen little girls. Not all of them simply vanished from their cribs like little Nelson Hogan. Some had been abducted in public; plucked from daycares or café patios. No witnesses had ever offered a description that made much sense. At least, not to those with closed minds. Kassiani was beginning to think there might be merit to a few of the claims, made mostly by Amazon children. “I just don’t understand,” Mr. Hogan stated with a shake of his head. “Nelly was a good boy. A little vocal at times, he was still new, but never stirred much of a fuss. Even if a Little were capable of running off in the middle of the night with no one noticing, he never would have tried it.” Kassiani nods. “He’s not the first baffling case. Mr. Hogan, if you would be so kind; my partner and I would like to go up and take a look at the nursery. Would you accompany us? It might be better for your wife to remain downstairs,” she advised. The man’s expression turned grim. He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose and ran a hand through his crop of thick black hair, messing it more than it already was, if it were possible. After a moment, he nodded. “Of course, I’ll show you up.” Silent as always when dealing with grieving families, Kassiani’s partner, Nathaniel, moved first as Jonathan Hogan led them upstairs. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his crisp gray suit. Kassiani followed them both up a set of curled, white wash stairs. The top floor of the house was neat and orderly, and a door at the end of the hall was open, light spilling into the dim hallway. Mr. Hogan hung back as the two detectives stepped into the plush carpeted nursery. Kassiani glanced around the room, taking in the details quietly. The walls were a soft, muted yellow, and stenciled across them were various cars, planes, trains, and boats, all with cartoony eyes and gaping smiles. It was sweet. The love the Hogans had for their Little was obvious as her gaze swept over the room. He had all sorts of blocks and toys to play with, many of which dotted the floor and spilled from an open toy chest. Kassiani plucked a teddy bear from its place on a green cushioned rocking chair. The bear was a soft brown, a green silk ribbon tied around its neck, and it held a heart shaped pillow with I Love You scrawled in white cursive letters across it. She stroked a finger over the bear’s plush face and smiled. “You said you had a lid crib?” she inquired. Mr. Hogan nodded. “Yes. Not that we ever had any concerns about Nell ever trying anything, but the boy did love to climb. Climbed everything. If you took your eyes off him for a moment, he’d scramble up a bookshelf or climb the drawers onto the counter. We were worried he might take a tumble at night, so we got a lid and started locking it after putting him down. Safety measure. Listen, you’re free to look, take anything you need to, and I’ll answer any question you have, but I should really remain with my wife right now. She’s not holding up well. Nelson is her whole world.” Kassiani dipped her head. “Of course. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Hogan. We’ll be alright up here.” “No lid now,” Nathaniel commented once the father had scurried back downstairs. “These things don’t usually have more than one set of keys, and they’d have heard the lock break if someone had busted in.” Kassiani walked up to the crib. It was true, there wasn’t a trace of the lid the Hogan’s had on their crib. Instead, there was just a fine trailing pile of black dust on the crisp white sheets. Pulling on a latex glove, Kassiani scooped some of it up. Ash. It was certainly unusual, but she’d seen it at a few scenes now. Nothing about the situation added up. Once again, her theory rose in her mind, nagging like a cicada beneath a glass. She gave her head a shake. Putting merit into such a concept could get her abilities questioned and the last thing she wanted was to be put under review. She excelled at her job. But no, it was still there, lurking, prodding at her. She couldn’t shake it. “Any theories, Nate?” she asked, her voice a little shaky. Anything to break her from her thoughts. Nathaniel turned, his head cocking to the side like a lizard eyeing a juicy bug and a frown twitched at the corners of his mouth. “You’re not still thinking about the witness reports are you? Kasey, they were children. Kids making up stories, nothing more.” “Kids all making up the same story, Nate? That’s always unusual enough to warrant at least considering. You know as well as I that the second we start excluding suspects based on age, personality, appearance of ability…or size, then we’ve lost the case.” “You really think a Little did this? Kasey, look around this room. It’s meant to contain a Little. We’re damned good at that. Otherwise, every nursery in the country would be empty.” He had a point. The notion that Littles were the culprits felt illogical. How could a Little, or even a ragtag band of them, get in and out so efficiently, casting off restraints specifically meant to use their size and strength against them, and make off with a victim, or perhaps in their eyes, a rescue, without getting caught, or even much more than a passing glimpse by a child? She sighed and rubbed at her temples. Illogical, but not impossible. If there was anyone in the city with cause to take the risk, it would be Littles. They would likely see it as liberating themselves from their own fates, futures. Few Littles sought out the comfort of an Amazon home. But the things that didn’t add up with a Little were rivaled by the improbabilities of an Amazon. “How did the Hogans not hear anything?” she said finally. “If an adult had come in here to pinch Nelson, he would have cried. What reason could another Amazon whisper to a baby to keep him quiet? He’d have no reason to trust them.” “Gun, maybe? Littles may be silly creatures, but they’re not that dumb. Besides, Nelson couldn’t walk. Littles couldn’t have carried him,” Nathaniel responded. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall, raising an eyebrow at her. Kassiani grinned. This was much better, comfortable. Bouncing debate points off one another. They’d come to a middle ground eventually. “Then how did the culprit get in? That window is accessible from a ledge too small to safely stand on, and even the window itself would be a squeeze to get through. And again, the noise factor. If the Hogans claims are to be trusted, Mr. Hogan was reading a paper, and Evelynn would have been in the kitchen preparing tomorrow night’s dinner. Neither activity is loud enough to conceal heavy footsteps or a ruckus going on right above their heads.” Nathaniel tilted his head to the side, a sign he was giving her a point. Her grin widened. “Maybe it wasn’t an Amazon. You make a good point. They don’t trust anyone when they’re free and they trust strangers even less after they’re adopted. It would have had to be a very efficient break in to be an Amazon. There’s not a clear motive.” “So you agree with me?” “That it wasn’t an Amazon? Yes. But not that it was a Little. They couldn’t pull it off either. I want to look for a Mid.” It took Kassiani a moment to digest his words. Where had that left field notion come from? “You think a Betweener did this?” she echoed. “But my theory is the absurd one?” “Now who’s casting off a class?” “Well come on, Nathaniel!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “There are no more Betweeners in the city, you know that. You think a rogue Mid managed to go unnoticed this long? They’d stand out like a sore thumb in the crowds. Why take such a risk?” Kassiani swallowed the lump in her throat. A Mid. It was true, she hadn’t considered them. It could mean another civil war though, if they were involved, and she doubted their government wanted to risk the fragile peace they’d brokered. Both populations were still recovering from the backlash of the Betweener separation from government. It had been a major pride blow, to be unable to control the middle class. In the end though, it was easier to give them their land to form their own society and live as they would. The cost was that they were no longer welcome in Amazon society. Not for support, trade, or work. If Mids were snatching Littles from their cradles, the uproar would be wildfire. An uncontrollable blaze that would engulf them all. “If it is a Mid,” she said finally. “You’d best hope we find them quickly and quietly, and that all the missing Littles are unharmed.” She sighed. “Fine. We’ll pursue your theory. But if it comes up dry, Nate, you’re going to support me with mine.” Nathaniel’s posture straightened and his expression darkened. “If anyone else asked me to practically commit career suicide, I’d drop them good.” Kassiani squared her shoulders. “I’m not anyone else.” “Which is why you’re not on the ground,” he pointed out. “And you’d better be right in that event, or I swear, I’ll kill you myself.” “If you’re right, someone else might just do it for you,” Kassiani countered. She sighed and glanced at the crib again. “There’s still one thing I don’t understand, from any angle. How the hell did they do that? Those lids are automated, heavy. How’d they manage to destroy it…it looks practically vaporized. Nothing but a bit of ash, though a fire would have set off the alarm and breaking it would have made too much noise.” There wasn’t an immediate response and Kassiani turned back to Nathaniel. He was staring in the same direction. Finally he shrugged and shook his head. “Yeah, I have no clue. This whole situation is way too messed up.” …Meanwhile… The old warehouse complex was dark and desolate. Nothing disturbed the eerie silence that hung over the abandoned structure. It really was a mess, a surprise the city hadn’t zoned it for demolition yet. Three figures dropped through a broken window, their footsteps drowned out even in the open floorplan of the building. One, a small boy with a mop of sandy curls and brown eyes so wide they might’ve popped of his head, stood between two others. He was still wearing a footed sleeper, fingers locked in the fingerless mitts on the ends, and a massive, swollen diaper sagged between his legs, making his knees wobble. He sat down with a rather noticeable squish and blushed. A lone candle, still flickering in the night, provided them their only bit of light to see by. One his one side, another Little, with shaggy blonde hair and green eyes that practically glowed in the dark. He spun a small crowbar and tucked it behind him on his suit. He knelt down next to the other boy, spun him around, and hooked a clawed finger into the zipper on his back. The sound of the zipper opening filled the room and soon the fabric was spilling off the small boy. Neither made a sound as the clawed figure, cloaked in black, shredded the diaper off next. “Nelson your real name?” he asked finally. The Little boy nodded and hung his head. “You’re safe now, Nelson,” a female voice assured him. The other figure knelt down and caught his chin with her hand. She offered him a smile. Dressed near head to toe in a bright red getup, her dark hair pulled into pigtails tied there with ribbons. “There won’t be any more nurseries in your future.” She glanced at her companion and took out a small red and black polka dotted yoyo. “Time to purify,” she murmured as she dragged her finger up the center. The front of the yoyo split open and a soft white light spilled from it. She took a deep breath, then turned it upside down over Nelson’s head. They all watched as a glowing white dust showered over his head. “What is that stuff?” the boy yelped, then his hands flew to cover his mouth. “My…my lisp!” The girl smiled and nodded. “Gone. You can walk properly again too.” “And hold it,” the other boy stated with a grin. “Useful stuff.” “Nelson, listen very closely. You’re going to go upstairs where there’s a little kitchenette. There’s a box in the cupboard by the stove. You’ll find proper clothes there, some rations. Squat down here a day or two. Someone will come for you. An associate. An Amazon. You can trust him. You’ll know it’s him when he comes in, talking about a fetching a lost teddy bear, okay? He’s going to take you far from the city. A place where you can start over, live freely. You mustn’t leave this warehouse until he comes for you, not for anything, okay?” Nelson hesitated and for a moment, the girl thought he might argue. Then he simply nodded. “Okay. Thank you,” he added. He didn’t wait around, simply scurried off in the direction of the stairs. The girl, still crouched on the ground, shook a little more dust into her hand and blew on it. “Miraculous ladybug,” she whispered. She watched it glow, the red and white swirling from her hands to race off into the night. It would repair any damage, simultaneously destroy any evidence. She grinned at the thought of the baffled looks the police would wear. Oh well. “Job well done, as always Milady.” The girl grinned and rose to her feet. Her associate was holding out a hand. She clenched her fingers into a fist and bumped it against his. “Pound it,” she agreed warmly. “Feel like a little rooftop celebration?” the boy inquired with a grin. “Under the stars, the moon. What’s not to love?” She rolled her eyes at his romantic advancements. A flirt, she’d decided long ago. Nothing more. Still, she trusted him with her life, as she knew he did with hers. Her thoughts were pulled from her as a soft beeping sounded in her ear. She brought a hand do cup one of the earrings in her lobes, watched him twist his ring uncomfortably. “Looks like we’re running low on time. Perhaps another night, Chat Noir,” she decided, offering him a kind smile. She liked him well enough, but it was imperative they knew nothing of their real identities. She stepped up on the window ledge and swung her yoyo until it pulled taunt on a pole a good distance away. “Bug out.” With the final statement, she swung out the window and off into the night. Well then....been a while since I've written a chapter, much less posted anything. I'm kinda surprised that this came from my brain, I haven't written fanfiction in a LONG time. Like, a really really long time, but oh well. It's how I started off back then, so perhaps it's fitting that it's how I'll get back into writing now. That said, I am so feeding my guilty pleasure here. I am a mega nerd when it comes to Disney and animation and all the wonderful things on the memory lane of childhood. Miraculous Ladybug is a show a friend of mine recently got me into and I will curse her name till the end of my days for it, because I'm shipping characters and raging out like crazy at this adorable kids superhero show. But you know what? The characters are literally adorable idiots and I've come to decide they'd be freaking wonderful Littles, and the diaper dimension rather fits them nicely for it, so here's an AU story about vigilantes with magic powers seeking to liberate Littles from cribs and the detectives soon to be hot on their tails. As a side note, yes, Ladybug's abilities are way off in this. I kinda had to rework her a little so it all made sense, since there's no akumas to catch in this. Anyways, to everyone who knows the show, *Fist bump*. To those who don't: go watch it, it's great (Though, start with the origin episodes 'Stoneheart' as it actually makes the show easier to follow than starting at ep 1 does). And if you don't wanna watch it....well, it is AU so I don't think you need too much knowledge of the show to read this, as I am reworking the characters and abilities a bit so I'll touch on a lot of the lore. Disclaimer though. (Wow, have not done one of these in a while either) MLB and it's characters are obviously not mine and the wonderful minds behind it deserve all the credit there. I'm just having some fun writing this story. Also, totally a working title. I'm open to better suggestions on what to call this, lol. Have a great day everyone. Littles - stay out of trouble you naughty things. -Kwoceans
  17. It’s A Family Affair Arthur Mitchell had known Betsy Allen since grade school. It was almost destined for them to get together as they were not only neighbors but we're the two in school every year that seemed to have the most wetting accidents. Well why not they were the kids that their parents seemed to have to wash wet sheets for every day because they couldn't seem to keep theirs dry. Arthur's and Betsy ' s mother's were talking and found that both of their kids were nighttime wetters and either or both would almost daily come home from school wet or would be wet before supper. Both were happy to have a sympathetic ear to discuss the raising of bed wetters, and pants wetters. They had tried punishments, no liquids after 1800 hours or 6 pm, getting them up at different hours of the night to go potty, rewards, alarms, medications but nothing seemed to help. Betsy was even called Betsy Wetsy by the other kids and her siblings, that really didn't seem to bother her. Finally both mother's started to diaper their kids day and night which didn't cure them but helped them seem to fit in better at least the other kids quit calling Betsy; Betsy Wetsy other than her siblings who continued to call her that. About the time to start Junior High School both mothers took their child out of day time diapers, but both would either wet on the way home or later during play. But more often than not would be wet at school still so the diapers and plastic pants went back on until high school at least, both mother's thought that they would try it again then. Besides they were still wet at nights and between them both had not had more than a handful of dry nights since they were kids Since their mothers were so close Arthur would go over to Betsy ' s house with his mother or Betsy would go to Arthur's house with hers. They were left alone most times and the two mother's were oblivious to the budding romance between the two teenagers. Each knew the others secret of what they wore to bed and what they were wearing in the day because when the mothers talked it was as if the kids weren't there so when the discussions for day wetting and bed wetting each child knew the other was in the same leaky boat so to speak.   This continued through Junior High School and when mom's took them out of diapers in Senior High School, the day wetting had improved but there were still accidents during school. But it was decided to let them stay out of day time diapers, nighttime was a other issue entirely. Neither showed any progress what so ever in that department. In fact, the only change had been the size of the diapers and plastic pants used meaning bigger sizes. Both Arthur and Betsy attended a local College because of their bed wetting decided campus life was not for them. During this time though they were dating and falling deeper and deeper in love with each other. They knew that each other still were bed wetters. Arthur had never called her Betsy Wetsy, telling her it would have made him a hypocrite of he had. Since they were both over 18 they planned on marring each other after college. Arthur got his degree in computer engineering while Betsy graduated with her degree in nursing. Arthur was about 5 foot 10 and was a redhead weighed about 135 he looked skinny but was pretty tough as his brothers used to tell him "I'd rather be dead than to wet my bed and be red in the head." After a few years his brothers never picked on him after he'd inflicted bloody noses, fat lips and a few black eyes. Wetting his bed had made him tougher he was sure of it. Betsy was a brunette and people would say she was cute not beautiful but she had an innocence about her that seemed to make her more beautiful. When they told their parents that they planned on getting married their parents thought it was a joke. Both were still wetting their diapers at night and looked like they would forever. They brought up the point "that since they were still wetting at night how much luck do you think we would have if we were to date other non bed wetters?" "We would probably never marry and continue to live at home until we're your age!" Both sets of parents had never thought of it like that, but the more the kids talked it made sense. Besides the parents could see the love that they had for each other, and decided that the at least deserved a chance. They were married on Valentine’s day the following year.   About Christmas time Betsy informed Arthur that she was expecting their first child she was about 2 months along. Arthur couldn't have been happier as a matter of fact he was over the moon. When he remembered a statistic that if both parents were bed wetter there was a 70% chance that their kids would be, he wondered what the odds were if both parents were active bed wetters. He brought this fact up to Betsy who said "if they do are we going to love them less? Arthur said hell no! Betsy said "we will understand more of what their going through right?" Arthur could only agree. Betsy said "and If they don't have a problem we will teach them to not make fun of the ones who do, including us! " about 7 months later Betsy gave birth to a hefty 9 pound baby boy in mid July that they decided to call Christian after Arthur's grandfather, who went by Chris his whole life. Chris was always big from birth until, well just for ever! Of course he was a bed wetter, but that never stopped him he grew up played football and was a dang good linebacker. Went to college was drafted by the Raiders in the 2nd round had to wear diapers at night because he still wet his bed. No one ever made fun of him because he was so damn big. Some kid on an opposing team while playing football in high school said "I want you bed wetter!" Big mistake, too bad because Chris about took the kids head off with a forearm to the side of his helmet. No one ever called him that again. About 4 months after Chris was born Betsy informed Arthur that she was pregnant again and one more time Arthur couldn't have been happier and was still over the moon. She was was again about 2 months along and at the last of May gave birth to not one but two, a girl and a boy. They decided to name the girl Darla after Betsy s grandmother. The boy was a bit harder until Betsy noticed a pattern emerging we have an Arthur, a Betsy, Christopher, Darla, so this has to start with E. They named him Ephraim. They got lucky Ephraim wasn't a bed wetter but Darla was not so lucky now they had 4 bed wetters and 1 that didn't. Betsy taught Ephraim that since he was the only child that didn't have problems with bed wetting that he shouldn't make fun of those that do. One night she heard Ephraim making fun of his twin sister Darla calling her ‘Pissy Darla’. Betsy took Ephraim and put a diaper on him and told him isn't coming from until morning, get used to it. Ephraim thought that it was a Joke so he wet it so mom would Take it off. “Look at me I'm Pissy Ephraim,” and asked mom to take it off. Mom said "No, I told you it isn't coming off until tomorrow morning!” Ephraim said “But mom I've already wet it to be Pissy Ephraim!” “That's too bad you can sleep in it and find out what it feels like to be real bed wetter like the rest of your family then.” Ephraim figured out that he had gone too far. Trying to sleep was almost impossible; the heat and sweat tended to make him more uncomfortable, so he wet it again and it felt somewhat better, not good. he woke up and went into the bathroom and turned on the light, the light hurt his eyes because he was used to the dark, ouch he said as his eyes started to adjust to the light. He lifted up the toilet lid and began to pee looking around he saw the hamper, and the sink and tub, the shelving over the toilet. Dang this pee felt good, then he remembered that he had a diaper on, wait...... he woke up and the diaper was soaked and had leaked and there was a wet spot in the middle of his bed. That was just a dream, but it seemed so real the light hurt my eyes even. Then he really got worried I have to sleep in my bed and it's wet. Do Mommy and Daddy, And Chris and Darla go through this every night? It's harder to be a bed wetter than I thought, I'll never tease them again. After Darla and Ephraim were born Betsy did not get pregnant again for 2 years then she gave birth to triplets this time 2 girls 1 boy the oldest girl fell in line was named Frances, the boy was Gary, and the girl was named Hermione after the girl in Harry Potter. Frances was the only one not to follow in her parents footsteps and wet her bed the other 2 again weren't so lucky.   With about 2/3 the family are bed wetters the Mitchell's got back to being a family. When Christian was a rookie for the Raiders he was drafted in the second round because the Raiders picked up a Quarterback from LSU in the first round. For some reason he had it in for Chris. When he found out that Chris was a bed wetter he got plain mean, hung Chris's diapers out the window on media day, for everyone to see. The QB thought that he was hot stuff, because he was a first rounder. He never missed a trick trying to humiliate Chris even as going as far as the old hand in the water, piss trick. Didn't take much for him to pee his diapers as he used his cell phone to tape it! What he didn't know was Chris may take a little ribbing about his bed wetting, but the QB was way out of line. The next day at scrimmage Chris wouldn't let him get a pass off sacked him three times, knocked down 4 passes and stuffed up the line on a QB sneak he couldn't get anywhere. On ESPN they started talking about what a bust the QB was for the Raiders, but how impressive their new inside linebacker, Chris Mitchell was the talk is they should of taken him first and let the QB fall to the third or fourth round and saved themselves a lot of money. Back to you Dan!
  18. Hi, I hope you enjoy this story. In the past I have started lots of stories here and never finished them. I wrote this about a year ago, and posted it to fetlife. I meant it to just be a one off story but a few people asked for more and I kept going. I'm now on part 10. Since I have written so much I thought I should share it here too. It took him a few minutes realize his situation when he woke up, not in his own bed, cramped, wet and uncomfortable. He could see the white rails going up in front of him. "Dammit," he said out loud. He was laying in a 52 inch crib staring up at a stuffed animal mobile. The morning erection which would usually greet him every morning was stifled by the pink plastic cock cage, when it rolled his squished penis hurt. In an attempt to avoid this very thing he'd tried to pee really good before he went to bed, as his wet diaper now indicated. He relaxed and tried to let the pee flow, it wasn't easy but eventually he soaked the already wet nighttime diaper and even felt a little creep out into his sleeper. This was Saturday morning. Normally on a Saturday morning in Summer he'd meet his pal Jim and go fishing on his boat, he instinctually looked at his wrist, and remembered his wife took his watch away. There was no clock in the nursery, I wonder if I could still catch Jim he thought. He sat up in the crib, and thought about getting out, the rails were up be he could get over them if he wanted. Still the rule was that he wasn't allowed out of the crib until Mommy came to let him out. Getting out would be trivial but his wife had set the crib on 12 inch risers meaning that from the top of the rail down to the floor was 55 inches. He stood up and looked down over the rail. Of course the latch they had rigged up was locked with a small padlock. The same kind of small padlock that was keeping his cock locked in it's cage. It's probably really early, she's probably not even up yet. I could just go get some snips and cut the cage off, he thought about the wonderful orgasm he would whack out as soon as he got the cage off and he felt his little guy start to stiffen up and press against the cage again and he moaned in discomfort. This has got to end, he thought. "Bahh", he said as he threw a leg over the rails and got out of bed, he reached his foot down but couldn't quite touch the ground, his soaked diaper sliding against the top rail as he stretched. He tried to reach just a bit farther but lost his balance as his diaper snagged on the rail. He found himself falling and hit the floor with a thud. How the hell did I end up like this, he thought. A month earlier he was in a similar situation, laying on the floor of the guest room wearing a diaper and a cute onesie with bright pink trim and printed with hearts. His diaper was soaked and messy and he was listening to a hypnotic track on headphones, and he was happily suckling a big pink pacifier. He didn't even notice his wife walk into the room until she was looking down at him. She'd got off work early and came home to surprise him. The next few hours were rough, he explained his diaper fetish, and swore over and over again that it had nothing to do with children. His wife was shocked, then upset, then angry, really angry, then sad, really sad. She eventually packed a suitcase and left. She called the next day, and they talked on the phone for hours. Her anger had died down and she'd done research on adult babies, finding out that as he had said the fetish had nothing to do with pedophilia. That evening she came home and they had a long discussion, he explained he'd been doing this since he was a little kid, and that he didn't know why he liked to do it, but he loved it. At her request he showed her all of his stuff, his diapers, his onesies, his bottles and pacifiers. "I'm so sorry, I'm going to bag all this stuff up and throw it away," he said. "Well... I was thinking, I've always had this fantasy of being a tough in charge kind of woman," she said. He laughed, his wife was super sweet and nice and rarely wanted to be in charge of anything. "Seriously don't laugh, and since you know, we can't have a baby, it might be kind of fun if you were my baby." His eyes opened wide, words that he'd imagined his whole life just poured out of his wife's mouth. "Ummm, wha.." he stammered. "But there will be strict rules, you have to understand what hurts me more than anything about this is how you kept it away from me all this time, it's almost like you were cheating," she said. "I'm sorry," he said trying to fight back tears but losing. "It's just so, embarrassing," he said and began to sob. "Oh come to mommy," his wife said and wrapped herself around him and he cried into her shoulder while she gently rocked him back and forth, She supported his head and whispered into his ear, "Your mommies baby now and she loves you so much," in a few moments she felt his cock growing stiff and realized how incredibly horny he was. She pulled off her shirt and undid her bra, then guided her husband's mouth to one of her nipples. "Fussy baby, here you go," she gently said. While her husband latched on and suckled she alternated between rubbing the front of his pants and his nipple. Soon he was unable to control himself and was humping and grinding her legs. She undressed him and then herself then lead him to the bed where they had mind-blowing sex. His cock was harder and went deeper then she'd ever felt, he moaned in rhythm with her. "Yes, baby, yes baby," she began to say as she felt herself heading towards orgasm. "Yes mommy, yes mommy," he said back. They came together, both screaming in a mind shattering orgasm, then collapsed on the bed. "Would you like me to diaper you now?" she asked. "Nahh, I'm good," he replied. She wondered how closely his adult baby desires were connected to just having an orgasm. "That's something we'll have to work on," she said with a laugh. The next day they had the best day of their lives, something they'd always dreamed of doing together, they converted a guest bedroom into a nursery. They bought the biggest crib they could find, which wasn't really big enough, but would have to do. They bought a white table that they converted to an adult sized changing table, and some organizers for diapers and toys. They filled a cart at Baby's R Us, with all kinds of baby supplies and neither one could wipe the big smile off their face. Finally, they ordered several cases of different adult diapers. "That's a lot of diapers," he said. "Well you're going to need them," she replied
  19. From the album: evilengine's diaper packs

    Nappies R Us finally restocked Fabines, I finally got some free time, and I finally ordered these dang things. Time to see how thick they really get! Also some Lil' Rascals too, cause why not? ...ok, so they didn't have Safari's in stock, and these were the next best thing ¬_¬
  20. Rebbecca worked at an old law firm, one that had been started about 90 years ago! Old Mr. Snedly's father had started it! Passed it on to his son old Mr. Snedly, who brought his son Middle Mr. Snedly on as a partner, who brought his son Young Mr. Snedly in as a partner! Young was misleading he was almost 60. She had worked for him for about 10 years! They had hired her right out of University, and she had worked for them since! She was considered beautiful, she had to beat Old Mr. Snedly off with a stick, he might be old as dirt, but he certainly was a dirty old man! It kept her on her toes, he followed her to the lady's restroom one day, seveal years ago! That was her hiding place up until then! She was blonde, which some people thought meant stupid! They had bought into the dumb blonde jokes! She liked it when the men underestimated her she was no blonde joke, you did that and she would hand you your ass! She still went to the gym about two or three times a week where she did Zumba and did cardiovascular exercises. Plus she lifted weights! Her body was toned, as she got older, it was getting harder to stay that way! Rebbecca was also married to her husband of about 8 years Stuart or Stu as everyone called him! He was a a cop, well he was in charge of Dispatch for the local Police Department. He had cought a few bullits and it left him with some medical issues one was his lung was damaged running made him pass out, the one good lung he had left couldn't keep up with the oxygen needs of his body, so he would pass out! He still lifted lots of weights and worked out with machines! Just nothing that involved running or lots of cardiovascular exercises! Rebbecca Called Stu and told him that it looks like another late night for her tonight! Should I save you dinner Becca? That's what he called her. Better not it looks like until the wee hours of the morning! We got that lawsuit that were fighting for our client! Looks like a late night strategy meeting, they will probably bring us in food! Sorry I can't spend this beautiful Friday night with you dear, Rebbecca said! Well maybe I'll see you late, late tonight Stu said, you know I love you Mrs Phelps! Yes I am aware Mr. Phelps! See you when I get home then, maybe! It was another boring strategy meeting, Rebecca was fried, she had started work at 7 am and here it was almost midnight in about 19 minutes! Old Mr. Snedly was dozing off she didn't mind at least when he was asleep he wasn't chasing her! Since the Senior partner was falling asleep they decided that the meeting needed to end! It would be midnight in 12 minutes. She got out of there as fast as she possibly could, into her car, onto the freeway, and home, her watch read 12:07 am as se walked through the door. She started dropping clothes her jacket then her blouse her bra came next! Dammit if it didn't feel great to unleash her girls! Her tweed skirt was unziped, it was the companion to her jacket, dropped about 1/2 the way up the stairs! Her panty hose was next. As she she arrived at the door clad only in her panties she took them off so she was entirely naked as she entered her bed room! Stu was aseep she was naked, she had a thought of her and Stu getting it on, or one of Stu's favorite a lick in the whiskers! She pulled the blankets down on her side of the bed and there they were! Her two thick nighttime diapers and her plastic panties! And her pajamas! Stu was so conciderate! At 32 years old Rebbecca still wet her bed, like she had when she was 5,15 or 25, she had never stopped! She checked Stu, sure enough he had his protection on for the night! When he was shot a bullit hit the nerve that controls Stu's bladder in the day time he's not got a probem! At night he culdnt stay dry if his life depended on it, just like her! They had met when Stu was suing the city! They weren't going to dismiss him due to being left a bed wetter! But was suing claiming that there were other jobs that he could do, like dispatch lead! The job had been given to a female but since he met the criteria, and was a male they had overlooked him! He was claiming sexual harrasment! She ended up being his attorney! They won the case he was able to do the dispatch coordinator job! During the trial his medical issues were brought up including his bed wetting!
  21. I was planning on publishing this as my second novel on Amazon, but it doesn't feel finished, and I can't figure where to go with it. Hopefully, some of you will enjoy it. *** 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 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 night 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 fantasies, or mostly so. That of itself was cause for thought. The number of those where the problem was dealt with by the sufferers 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 down stairs. 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 start 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 notice 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? Beside, 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 pill 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 up stairs 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 it 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 he husband is gone. She doesn't mind that you are having potty problems and 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 half way. "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 day time. 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 a sleep." "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 wasn't 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 look 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?"
  22. Picking up my Cheerleader girlfriend from the game! It is Saturday afternoon and the Kent State vs. Akron U. game is in the 4th quarter. Kent is about a 30 minute drive from where we live in Akron so I told her I would pick her up at the end of the game so be ready when I get there. I arrived a little early and came in with her pass to watch the last few plays of the game. Akron is winning by one touchdown with 1:35 left in the game. It is cold as heck this late October day with off and on rain, snow and Sleet showers. The girls are on the field dressed in leggings and an Akron U long sleeved jacket. As the game comes to an end we beat Kent by a score of 28 to 21. Heather ran to the railing and kissed me and said she would be right back out. They ran into the locker rooms and changed into their street clothes Then a few moments later she and a friend came out chatting and laughing with each other. She stood near me and I watched her for at least 15 minutes talking, laughing and occasionally crossing her legs and grabbing for her crotch. Her typical I have to pee but I am more interested in what I am doing now dance. She is like a 5 year old constantly ignoring her need to pee when she is doing other things. Finally she said goodbye to her friend and we headed to the car. I was freezing cold by this time and could not wait to get back in the car to head home. We pulled out of the lot and made our right on Summit St. past the Highway Patrol who was directing traffic for the game and headed back to Akron. She began to tell me about the game and how cold it was there and then how she had another game the next weekend away against Michigan. I asked her if we had to drive up there or if she was going to take the bus with the other girls and she was not sure yet what she wanted to do. I turned to her and asked if she wanted to go get some dinner and I could not help but notice she was shaking her right leg and squeezing it against her left one back and forth. She answered “no I just want to go home I am tired”. I agreed the weather was crappy anyhow and we had leftover Chili and Cornbread she made yesterday to eat at home. She asked me what I thought about maybe next Tuesday night going to practice with her after work and then going to Red Lobster after. That sounded great. As we approached Cuyahoga Falls around Silver Lake, I looked over to the right to see the boats on the Lake but failed to notice directly ahead the road had a huge bump in it. We hit the bump hard and the car bounced over it throwing us around in the car unexpectedly causing our already tight seat belts to press hard on our belly while hold us in the seat. Heather yelled out Oh Shit and grabbed the door with her right hand and slammed her left hand into her crotch. I looked back in the mirror and could see the road was actually buckled up at that point and had I have been watching I would have slowed down. With in a minute or so I began to smell pee in the car pretty strong. She was no longer shaking her leg and I noticed she was wiping her left hand on her pant leg. At the next traffic light I looked down at her crotch to see a very large wet patch on her jeans. I reached over and began to rub my hand on her crotch enjoying the wetness as she spread her legs apart giving me free access to her peed jeans. She don’t like to pee her pants even though she does it a lot, but she knows I like it when she does, and she gets rewarded sometimes by me in the bedroom after she does it so she does not resist me touching her if we are not in public. I kissed her and continued to rub and play in the crotch of her jeans as we drove toward home. Every now and then I felt renewed warmth and moisture on my fingers as now that the seal was broke she was slowly peeing more in her pants with every bladder contraction. With my hand between her legs and her legs spread she could not really stop her urine from slowly coming out. We pulled in the driveway and she flung the door open, jumped out and stood real still beside the car and she finished peeing her pants. I got out and walked around the car, took her hand and walk her in the house and up to the bedroom. I laid a towel on the bed and laid her on her back, unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off of her. They were tight skinny jeans anyhow and now that they were soaked in pee they were quite difficult to get off of her. Her thong panties were next to remove and then I got a warm wet washcloth from the bathroom and cleaned her legs and nicely waxed pussy. Once cleaned up I lowered my head down between her legs and began kissing her legs and inner thighs working my way up to her pussy. Then moved up and kissed her breasts, sucking and nibbling on her nipples, and proceeded to work my way down her belly and working around her navel on her perfectly flat stomach as my hands slowly moved up and down her thighs and legs and then up to her ribs with just a light tickle with my fingers. She was getting more and more turned on as I worked myself down and began to slowly suck and then lick in her pussy and up her clit. I began to work my tongue faster and faster as my fingers worked down from her belly to rub on her nob. In short time she slammed her legs together on the side of my head as her juices shot out onto my chin and she groaned in orgasm. Soon she pushed me away and collapsed on the bed telling me she loved me so much. I let her rest as I washed my face off for a few moments and then went back at it again. Once bringing her to climax again, it was my turn. She sat up and pulled me onto the bed, removed my jeans and underwear that were wet with pre-cum, then she used the washcloth to clean me up and began to gently stroke my hard cock and then put her mouth on it and began to suck on me bringing me to a fairly quick climax. She laid down beside me and we cuddled for a good half hour just laying there naked. She giggled and whispered in my ear “If I get this treatment everytime I piss myself I might never use a toilet again”. I laughed and said that was a possibility but I would prefer you wore diapers then around the house. She got quiet for a moment and said “well, then I would not have to get up at night to go pee anymore, and I could watch my TV shows all the way through too…..Maybe it would be a good idea”. I smiled totally shocked at the idea her not saying no to this and said “it would be what happens to you if you keep peeing your pants”. She rolled over and laid her body on top of mine and kissed me and rested her head on my chest holding me. I was not totally comfortable, but didn’t want to move because I love cuddling with her. Not long after that I felt my crotch get very hot and moist and I heard a familiar hiss of liquid as my bottom started getting wet too. I reached down along my rear end and the sheet was soaked. I smacked her bare bottom and she looked at me and giggled saying “I guess I am a very bad girl that you can’t trust anymore”. I was so turned on again but also kind of mad she peed our bed like that. She pushed herself up to a sitting position on me, reached under her and gave my cock a few strokes to get it hard again and then proceeded to sit herself down on me and rode me until I came in her. Once we both were done she laid back down beside me and we rested until the sheets got too cold under us. We got up and headed to the shower to clean each other up. I kissed her told her how amazing she was. We got out of the shower and she told me I needed to run to CVS to get her some diapers while she put the sheets and bedding in the wash. I told her she could not be trusted for me to be away that long in a joking manner and she giggled nodding in agreement. My Niece who is 8 still wets the bed and she had spent the night a few days ago and had some Size 7 Cuties diapers that she wears to bed that she left here. So I grabbed one and told Heather we would see if she can still fit in one of these while I go in search of some good adult diapers for her. She looked at it and shook her head no. I said little girl, don’t argue with me, lay down on the floor now. So she did laughing, and I opened up the diaper and slid it under her. I wrapped the diaper up between her legs and stretched the sides around her and to our amazement they actually reached the front tabs. Though quite tight, she was wearing the size 7 Cuties diaper. I helped her up and she turned around so we could see how it looked. It looked quite cute on her actually and she went and put on a bra and t-shirt and took the laundry downstairs while I got dressed and headed to CVS. Upon arriving there, they only had Depends pull on underwear and CVS brand pull ups that I knew would not work nor did they look cute. So I drove to Walgreen's, and on the way past the Klien’s medical supply store. So I stopped in there to see what they might have and Found Abina S4 diapers on the shelf. I grabbed them, wipes and some body powder and headed back home. I walked in the house and she was sitting on the couch with a cup of hot coffee in hand and one waiting for me too. I told her I had a perfect diaper for now and showed her what I bought. She looked at the package and said Oh Abina, they are goo………...a nice package. I was not born yesterday, this response took me by surprise so I asked “what were you starting to say. They are good? How do you know they are good?”. She turned red in the face and said, no I…...I didn’t say that..I said…...I mean I was going to say they are a good looking package”. I said really? They are a good looking package?” She turned even more red in the face. I leaned over and kissed her and said ok babe…...come clean. As I said that I looked down at her kids diaper she was wearing and she actually had peed in it while I was gone. It was now thick and yellowed in color. I reached down and put my finger in her diaper to confirm she was wet already. I looked her in the eye and said “tell me girl!!”. She giggled and said well………….you see………...I mean with my small bladder all my life……….well as you know I always have to pee and I have a lot of accidents like today”. I said “yes, go on”. She looked away and said, All of my life I have worn diapers on car trips, and at night………..My parents made me wear diapers anytime we went away, and at night too, I just got so used to it that when I moved out on my own I kept buying them scared I would wet the bed...and………...”. I leaned over and kissed her, took her coffee from her hand and guided her to lay on her back on the couch. I lifted her legs and bent her knees and spread them a little. Removed the tapes from her wet kids diaper. I told her raise her bottom and I removed her peed diaper and rolled it up and set it on the floor. I took out some wipes from my bag of stuff I bought and cleaned her perfectly shaped bottom and pussy, and opened the bag of Abina diapers and removed one, opened it up, and then slid the back under her bottom. Then she laid her bottom down and I sprinkled powder on her and then wrapped the front of the diaper up between her legs and taped it on her. I helped her sit back up and she went back to drinking her coffee. In short time it was dinner time and she waddled her diapered bottom into the Kitchen and started heating up the chili and cornbread for us. She brought in mine and went back to get hers, As she was walking in I noticed the wet indicators on the bottom of her diaper had turned blue. This girl really does have to pee all day long I thought to myself. We found an interesting TV show on while we ate sitting side by side on the couch. I could not believe how adorable she looked sitting there in a diaper and t-shirt. We spent the rest of the evening watching TV and snuggling on the couch and by bedtime her diaper was pretty full. I changed her again before we went to bed. The next morning she was completely soaked and needed changed before breakfast. I guess now the Title of this story should be “My Diapered Cheerleader Girlfriend”. The only time I let her out of diapers now is when she is going to School or doing her Cheerleading things. She actually has pockets in her backpack where she keeps Goodnites for sleeping in the hotel just in case when she is at away games and I had no idea about that. She told me only a couple times did she actually wake up wet, but every morning before her shower she would just go in the pull up because it was on instead of wasting it. She often wonders about the hotel people finding her wet pull up in the trash but not seeing any kids around.
  23. So I bought a few ABU Diapers, the first two I got scented with the scent strip and I did not like it at all, from far away it smells good but up close it is really overbearing. So, I got two $5 coupons from ABU and used it to order 2 more Diapers, and pay the remainder with my card, but I made sure to get them unscented. When I open the package both the package and the Diapers have a amazingly wonderful smell. This may make me a little wierd, but as soon as I take the Diapers out I hold them to my nose and smell them, then I keep the bag for a little bit so that I can stick my nose inside and sniff it, because the scent from the Diapers also scent the bag after being sealed and mailed. Now what I wanna know is what that wonderful smell is that you get even without the baby fresh scent strips and where it comes from. Is it the plastic they use? Is it the landing zone Diaper Tape? Is it the ink used for the prints? What do they do to these Diapers to make them smell so good without the scent strips?! Baby Diapers have this too, because I smell it when walking down the toy/Diaper aisle at King Soopers. However, Depend and other incontinence brands do not have this scent, obviously ABU is trying to make their Diapers as close to Baby Diapers as possible, which explains the scent when you take them out of the package. But what is the scent?! Is it just something that happens with the production of Baby and ABU Diapers? Or do they do something special to them to get that wonderful scent? Remember I'm not talking about the scent strips that you pay extra for, I'm talking about the scent that comes from the Diaper itself when you take it out of the package. Is it like a new car smell, where they just smell really good because they are fresh and the scent wears off after a while? Or do they actually add something to it during production that makes it smell so good until wet/messed? Please help provide some insight as to what this scent is, where it comes from, and how it's achieved, because I'm not having much luck finding out what the normal scent of a Baby/ABU Diaper is (not the scent strips), I would really appreciate it, thanks and stay Diapered! Reply Report Remove formatting BoldItalicUnderline Text colorFont size Insert linkInsert imageSmiliesInsert Gallery embed AlignmentListInsert table UndoRedo Toggle BB code Write your reply... Post reply Preview Attach files Share: TwitterRedditPinterestTumblrWhatsAppEmailLink Diaper Talk Default style Terms and rules Privacy policy Help RSS Forum software by XenForo™ © 2010-2019 XenForo Ltd. | Add-ons by ThemeHouse Discord Integration © Jason Axelrod of 8WAYRUN Reply
  24. My Story. How do I put this? I think I'm the most miserable man alive. I'm 60 years old, growing up I was a hard worker. I grew up in farming country. I hauled enough alfalfa bales, branded and castrated calves. Picked potatoes. Milked cows. fixed miles of fencing, If it was farm-related I have done it. I was a garbage man, not one of those guys that drive up with a truck that automatically picks up the can and dumps it, oh no I rode on the back and another guy and I dumped your cans. I also did construction, building your houses. We were putting a wall up and it fell hitting me in the lower back. I also volunteered at my local fire department. I also rode rodeo in my younger days, I liked the saddle broncos. I stayed away from the bull riding. In my opinion, you have to have a few screws loose to ride a bull, that or a death wish! Anybody that will willingly get on a ton of animal with the intent of killing you isn't right in the head. The reason I tell you these things is that now that I'm 60, I've had surgeries to fix several things. I hurt from head to toe the doctors say its arthritis from all the crap I did when I was younger. It's in my ankles, knees my left knee is about twice the size of my right knee. Lower back combination of jumping off the garbage truck before it stopped, and the wall that fell on me. Shoulders injured the right when it came out of socket had it fixed once surgically only to have it tear again. Nothing left to work with to repair it again. The left one hurts now because of overuse from compensating for the right. Right wrist I've had 3 bones removed from it in a procedure called a Radical Row Carpectomy. They took out the carpal bones. That I'm sure is from my rodeo days. I also have had a hernia operation. This caused me to start to wet my bed when I sleep. This has baffled my doctors usually this doesn't cause Enuresis but it did on me. I wasn't a bedwetter growing up. Until I hit 56 years old and had the surgery to repair a hernia. I've been married 3 times the first wife, she divorced me saying I was too damn ornery to live with. #2 was on her way back from work one night and some asshole that had been drinking at the local bar all day thought he was in good enough condition to drive, he wasn't he hit Beth running her into the river. She died of not the accident but of hypothermia, it was December right before Christmas. Wife #3 died about 6 months ago she got Ovarian Cancer she was pretty much gone before it was diagnosed. This is where my life changed. After her death, her brother Rusty ( not Russell but Rusty), his wife had left him. Out of the blue, he called me and asked if he and his daughter Yvette could move in with me. Rusty had one of those jobs where he was gone a lot, oil rigs he was gone like two months at a time then home for 3 weeks. He needed a babysitter for Yvette. He was family and I was always taught you helped out family. They arrived I had forgotten Yvette was almost 17 years old. She looked like her mom. Blond, green-eyed and compact she was only 5 foot 1 or 2 but at 16 she had a rack. The last time I had seen her she was 9 or 10 years old. She had grown and filled out. You might be thinking what a pervert! It's just the radical change she had gone through I was 43 years older than her. Way too old to do anything about it and old enough to know better to try! Like I said after one of my surgeries, for my hernia. I started wetting my bed. It wasn't every night maybe once-twice a week sometimes three or four never more than six. I bought good diapers. I usually didn't have leaks maybe once a month. Tonight was that night. After waking at 0400 hours and finding myself and my sheets soaked, I let a few cuss words fly I got in and took a shower. Lets put it this way I was awake now. I then had to take my sodden linen to the basement where the washing machine was. I was trying to be very quiet as this was where Yvette's bedroom was, I didn't want her catching me washing my wet sheets and pj's. I had just gotten my sheets and things into the washer. I heard Yvette stirring and crying, she was letting loose similar language to what I had used. I heard her coming from her room still cussing about something. She had her sheets and from the looks of things they were in a similar state as there ones I had placed in the washer myself. She had wet her bed as well. Except when she shoved the pile into the washer she saw me and I saw the soaked goodnight she had on. Uhm she said when she saw me. Her shirt was wet as well that she still had on. I saw the trembling of her lower lip, I knew she was going to cry! I hate it when I'm right. Hey, hey whats the matter I asked? Now you know why my mom didn't want me I'm a bedwetter. So what I said I know lots of bedwetters, who she asked through the tears? You know that girl on the next block, Cathy or Cassie? The name escaped me at the moment. Cassidy, she offered? Yeah, she used to run around every day with her shorts wet. In the crotch area. Her mom is a real witch about it I asked her one time about why she wet herself every day? She told me why not she still pisses her bed every night. The crying was growing fainter who, who else she asked? Did I dare tell her me? How about me I asked? You, she said, all tears were stopped. Look in the washer those sheets didn't wet themselves. She looked in and for one of the first times saw my load and put hers in with mine then she did something that shocked the hell out of me, she took her wet tee shirt off and threw it in with my clothes and sheets. This girl was naked all except her wet goodnight. I looked her straight in the eyes that way I wouldn't stare at her bare chest. Why don't you go get cleaned up, I asked? Okay, Uncle Eddy. With that, she was off. I heard her turn the shower on in the bathroom in the basement. I put her wet sheets and clothing in with mine. When I heard her turn the shower off I started the washer. I went and started fixing breakfast. She came to the kitchen. She would look at me and when I would look at her she would look away. Is there something wrong I asked her? Uhm can I ask you a question? I think you just did I joked. No, that's not it she smiled. Uhm your bedwetting have you always... That's what her question was. Wet my bed I finished? Yeah, she said relieved. No, I had some surgery that caused it, I've only been wetting my bed about 4 years now, why? I never stopped she said. It used to piss my mom off something terrible, she yelled, spanked, restricted my fluids at night. But I still woke up wet the next morning. Even my dad doesn't like the fact that I'm almost ready to drive, but I still can't sleep dry. You're the only adult that didn't have a cow when you found out I still wet my bed. Probably because I understand what you go through every morning I said. By the way, we need to get you better protection at night, those goodnights are made cheap but expensive, per Cassidy 's mother. You feel like skipping school to go do some shopping, I asked? Is the Pope Catholic, she responded? We visited the hospital supply store where I get my diapers from. I found they have the best choice of incontinent supplies in the city. She found some purple things she liked called Molicare. We were getting ready to leave when we heard a commotion. It was Cassidy and her mom. They were there to get diapers for Cassidy, Cassidy was fighting her mom at every step. Yvette and I were seen by Cassidy, she turned about seven shades of red at seeing us. She was embarrassed. Yvette went up and I saw her talk to Cassidy for a few seconds. I saw Cassidy calm down. I know Yvette had just admitted to Cassidy that she wet her bed as well. I saw Cassidy pick out the same purple diapers that Yvette had. Cassidy's mother was flabbergasted that it had been that easy. I knew Yvette had made a good friend in Cassidy. I still remember when she ran around with a wet crotch all the time. Yvette came and asked if Cassidy could come home with her, her mom said it was okay! Now I had two girls playing hooky from school!
  25. Ok so I just got word that there's been talks about a new law that would make printed adult diapers and plastic pants sex toys under US law requiring ID and proof of age to buy abdl products this is an outrage can you imagine how embarrassing it would be to have your mail man card you before delivering your diapers this is horrible I encourage each and every one of you to write your congressmen demanding that they shoot down this outrageous bill before it becomes the law