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This story was written as part of The 3rd Kasarberang's NON-CONtest. Hi guys! The story won the second price of 100$, which has already been received. Thanks to Kasarberang and all of you for the support! A Husband's Regression Oliver sat on the floor surrounded by his baby jail, or as mommy called it, playpen. His diaper, as always, was wet; a pacifier in his mouth and a ridiculous bonnet attached to his head. It would be impossible for anyone to confuse him with the successful businessman he had been a few months ago. No one would even think this pathetic man had once been a husband, a father, a respected man. And yet, in Oliver's mind, those memories were as fresh as if it had been a day ago. Memories of driving his luxurious car. Memories of fucking his sexy wife. Memories of everything he lost. "Why don't we have a glass of wine, and you tell me everything that happened between you and," said Julia, pausing to glare at Oliver's predicament, "Well, Oliver." She was a pretty lady, a couple of years younger than Oliver. Nothing special. Not like his wife or, eh, mommy. He couldn't call her any other way anymore. Not unless he wanted to spend the evening on her lap. Claudia was a beautiful woman, thirty-five and still looking radiant. Even with her pregnant belly, she was by far the most beautiful woman Oliver's ever seen. "Oh, it all happened so fast for little Oli. I don't think he realized it until it was over," said Claudia, receiving a glass of wine from her friend. "What happened to him?" "Little Oli here made Mommy angry. Do you remember it, Oli?" Oliver tried to look away, but he knew Mommy wouldn't like that. He hated it whenever she talked about his downfall. It had been such a stupid thing. An office party, and it wasn't really his fault. She came onto him, his assistant. Claudia knew it. But she still got angry. Yeah, it's true he had been flirty with Sophia before, but it was all platonic. The girl was almost twenty years younger than him. Any sane man would've flirted a little bit, even if it led to nothing. Though now Oliver wished it had led to nothing. It would've changed everything. "So he had an affair?" Asked Julia, pouring even more wine into her glass. "He did. The little stinker claims he never even touched her, but Sophia confessed. If you think Oliver's fate was bad, you should see her." "What did you do to her?" Oliver knew now about what had happened. Claudia's plan had been flawless, but if there was anything he regretted the most was what happened to Sophia. Sighing, he moved enough to allow himself to pee his diaper more comfortably. "That I'll show you later. For now, why don't we focus on Oli?" Claudia asked. Julia nodded enthusiastically. She had never been fond of Oliver. In fact, she had even argued against him when Claudia announced their marriage. The good old days. "So, what happened when you found out about the affair?" "My husband had cheated on me, and I wanted payback. But more than anything, I wanted to humiliate him. Divorcing him wouldn't have been enough, so…" "So he agreed to be put back in diapers just because?" Claudia giggled, "No. Not immediately. It was a bit more complex than just forcing him to wear them and act like a baby. I got the idea from a bizarre story I found once." "I think someone's filling his diaper for Mommy. What time is it?" "Uhm, almost two. Why?" Asked Julia, now a bit tipsy. "Oliver's meal. My breasts are screaming for release." "Release? Your breasts? What?" Oliver knew what she meant. Sitting in his baby prison, his lips were working against him. They wanted something he despised, something he hated. And yet, part of him craved the sweet nectar of his wife's breasts. He would never forget the first time he tasted them. That very first night, he had been forced to suck on her nipples while diapered. He had not eaten anything for an entire day, and he would not eat anything unless he did what Claudia wanted, and she wanted to breastfeed him. And so he did, with tears in his eyes he did, and what was worst, he didn't completely hate it. "You'll see in a few minutes. I try to feed him at the same time every day, it creates a sense of stability, and that's important for babies. Anyway, where were we?" Claudia asked, pausing for a second to glare at the man that was once her husband, "Oh, right. How did we get here?" "Wait, wait. Do you breastfeed him? How do you produce milk?" "It took some work, but there are some treatments you can get to induce milk production. It's a bit expensive and medical. Worth it, though." "If you say so," said Julia, looking a bit disgusted but too engaged in the story to leave it there, "So, how did you get him to accept all of this?" "Easy. I made him think he needed it." "Made him think he needed to be traded like a baby?" Claudia took a sip of her glass of wine, and with a devilish smile, she winked at her former husband. "Remember the accidents, honey?" Asked Claudia about the baby that was once her husband. Oliver looked away. He remembered everything that led to his downfall. It began a couple of months before. One night Claudia surprised him with a glass of wine when he came back from work. A glass turned into two, then four. The next morning he woke up soaked. Claudia wasn't pleased, but she didn't make a big fuss out of it. Instead, she treated him better that morning. Better than she had in a while. However, it wasn't the end of it. That very same night, she gave him a beer while they ate. Nothing fancy, but it was a nice gesture. He didn't think twice. But the next morning, he woke up with a wet bed again. And once again, Claudia seemed fine with it. Somehow, she seemed happier about it. And when it happened again and again, Oliver began to worry about his health. "And then it happened during the day. Your first accident during the day, and it was public. Wasn't it, Oli?" Asked Claudia with that devilish smile he hated. Oliver looked down. It had been a busy day at work. Kendall, his assistant, a young and ambitious man, had given him a glass of water right before an important meeting. Nothing odd about it. It was the way he liked to start his meetings, hydrated. But he didn't know back then what he knew now. And so he drank and went straight to present the reports for that semester. Twenty minutes in, he felt a slight tinkle in his penis, something warm against his crotch, and then a liquid sensation running down his legs. It was over in a matter of seconds, and everyone in the room went silent. And it remained silent until Oliver realized what had happened and rushed out of the room, leaving a puddle of his urine behind. "He wet himself at work?" Asked Julia. "He did," said Claudia as tears began forming in Oliver's eyes. "How? How did you get him to pee himself at night and in front of his colleagues?" "A combination of loop diuretics." "Loop what?" Asked Julia. "Drugs, honey. Drugs that make it impossible for the body to absorb certain minerals, so they just passed straight through the body." Their eyes turned to Oliver, who was now sobbing because he knew what happened after. And because he now knew why it happened. He took the week off after his accident to make sure there were no health issues, but the doctor had simply said that there wasn't a physical problem with him. If he was having accidents, then it must be phycological. And he was dragged to a therapist by his wife, though, surprisingly, she seemed sympathetic to the whole thing. Their marriage had been paying through a rocky spot, and yet, here they were, together like a couple dealing with a problem. Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad. But Oliver didn't know better back then. "What did the therapist say? And how did you get the doctor to miss the drugs in his system?" "Money," said Claudia, matter-of-factly, "Buying yourself a doctor is just as easy as getting a new car. And, of course, little Oli here left us with quite a large amount of money." "So, what happened next?" "Well, the therapist we went to was a friend of mine. She knew what I wanted and why, and she was more than happy to help." "How did she help? What did you do? Stop being so vague," said Julia, giggling as she raised her four glass of wine. "Her name's Clara, and she planted the little bug in Oli's head. She said that there was no real reason why a man his age should be having potty accidents, and she said potty to make a clear point. So, Oli was having them because, subconsciously, he wanted." "Did he fall for that?" Claudia shook her head, "Not right away. Of course, I acted shocked and disgusted. But I let Clara take charge at that moment. She simply stated that Oli might be burned out with all the stress of a high-profile job. I mean, it's not like he didn't have terrible neck and shoulder pain already. And as she kept explaining why she thought that, Oli's expression shifted from anger and distrust to looking more like a beaten puppy. And that's when she suggested a new and revolutionary treatment. Regression. Or, in other words, being treated like a baby for a while." "And he accepted?" "Being a baby? Not quite. Not yet, but that's how I planned it. You see, Oli needed one last push into complete babyhood. Something that would make him understand he wasn't an adult anymore, or at least, he didn't want to be one." "What did you do?" "Well, Oli already had an accident in public. But that was contained, and his colleagues just thought he had some sickness or something. Now it was time to push him further. And by further, I mean stepping up the game from number one to…" Oliver tried to block her words, but he could do nothing to block his memories. Even now, just thinking about it was traumatic. He sighed behind his pacifier. "Number two? You mean," Julia paused, a look of disgust on her face," Oh, my." Claudia nodded. And if it had been just one day ago, the image of that day came rushing into Oliver's mind. A beautiful day, sunny and breeze. Perfect for a 4th of July BBQ. Oliver's son, Eric, and his girlfriend, Linda, were part of the crowd that included neighbors, friends, family, and some employees, like Kendall. All of them celebrate and drink and smoke, and enjoy. Even Oliver had stopped thinking about his accidents and diagnosis for a moment, just being present and happy. And that changed quickly after eating. It began like a little rumble in his stomach, which soon turned into a terrible pain and cold shivers that could only mean one thing. "I've heard about it!" Said Julia, "But I thought they were joking or exaggerating." "It probably was as bad, if not worst, than what you might have heard." It was, though, Oliver, and a familiar feeling in his tummy and bowels rushed through him without any objection. A loud fart echoed in the room, a wet one. Julia giggled, but Claudia looked at him with pride in her eyes. What followed was a minute of Oliver squatting right where he was, pushing with little effort, to then feel the warm and soft yes spreading through his crotch. Then he sat right on it as it reached his most private area. There was no fighting it. There was no reason to fight it. If he did, all he would earn was discomfort. And once it was done, he could do nothing but cry. "Did he just…" "He did," said Claudia, chuckling, "Just like how it happened that day. Minus the attire. Though the crying is spot on." "Eww." She was right, though. Oliver had not made it to the bathroom that fateful 4th of July. He stood up, walked a couple of feet, and froze right there in front of his son and daughter-in-law-to-be and in front of everyone that held him in any esteem. And like a toddler, he soiled himself. And like a toddler, he couldn't do anything but cry. And that was it. After what happened, he couldn't really argue the diagnosis. Did he really want to be a baby? Of course not. But he didn't know it had all been Claudia's fault back then. No. He actually believed his subconscious was fucking with him. Claudia grabbed him by the wrist and led him back home, leaving behind the astonished crowd. Oliver just allowed himself to be cleaned by his wife, not even trying to justify his accident. And there was no reason to. Claudia seemed to be okay with what had happened. She even kissed him gently on the forehead, reassuring him that if he truly wanted to be a baby, he needed to decide. She just couldn't handle the whole accident stuff anymore. Either he took the decision to be a baby, or she would take it for him. "And he said yes?" Claudia nodded. "So, what happened after?" Oliver didn't need to hear Claudia's answer. He had experienced it firsthand. That very same day, he was put on his first diaper by his loving wife. It didn't occur to him why she already had diapers ready to go, but he was too shocked to argue anything. So he said nothing when she put a onesie on him, mittens on his hands, and knitted booties on his feet. It wasn't until she said people were waiting for him to see if he was doing better that Oliver returned to reality. "No, please. Don't let them see me," he tried to argue, but there was nothing to argue about. Claudia led him downstairs and to a full room that included every person from the BBQ. His son Eric was the first to see him, and the look of disappointment and disgust in his eyes still haunts Oliver to this day. Linda laughed just as he stepped into the living room, and everyone joined her. And Oliver could do nothing but cry. "I wish I could've been there," said Julia. "I have it on tape." "Really?" "Kendall helped me with it. He had known about the entire plan for a while, and well, not only did he get me, but he's now also Oliver's replacement. So I think everything worked out the way we planned it." "And when did Oliver, I mean, Oli, find out you were behind everything that happened?" Claudia giggled, "That was very recent, actually. You see, he already accepted that he subconsciously wanted to be a baby. But I couldn't just drop the truth on him just yet. I needed him to actually enjoy his time as a baby first." "Enjoy it?" "Well. Let's just say little Oli here might be looking for his diaper change. Aren't you, Oli?" Oliver looked away, still sobbing but nodding at the same time. He knew what it meant to be changed. Ever since that fateful day, whenever she or anyone changed him, he got something in return. The mere thought of it made him blush. Of course, he didn't like to admit to himself. But after he had a wet accident for the first time in his diaper, Claudia took him to their bed, and carefully, gently, she began massaging around his little butthole while her other hand played with his minuscule penis. It didn't take long for him to cum. That process was repeated with every change. Though whenever he had a stinky, she would use a magic wand vibrator to achieve his climax. "Eww, he comes from shitting and peeing himself?" Claudia chuckled and nodded. Standing up, Claudia reached for Oliver's playpen, moving around the massive breasts and long legs she possessed. "I think someone's hungry." Oliver blushed. She managed to carry him off the playpen. It would have been a considerable feat had it not been because, after months of barely moving, Oliver was mostly fat and had no muscle. Julia said nothing as the proud wife sat next to her again with the pathetic husband on her lap. "You're getting stronger." "Got into weights a few months ago. And Oliver's not that tall or heavy." "Are you going to feed him now?" Claudia nodded and, wasting no time, she opened her shirt and bra, revealing gorgeous breasts. A surprising feature for someone her age, but Claudia was the epitome of a well-preserved woman in her forties. "Should I come back later?" Asked Julia. "Not at all. Stay, we haven't finished the tale of little Oli." And without hesitation, Oliver latched onto his wife's nipple, sucking and receiving the tasteful liquid her wife had produced for him. A month ago, he would've fought it back, and he did fight back during that first week. But fighting back meant not release, and it meant a torturous spank given to him by his wife's new boyfriend. His former assistant. The man he knew had to call Daddy. No. Oliver wouldn't fight back anymore. No matter who was around them, he would feed, whether it was a stranger or his daughter-in-law, or his very own son. "How do you make milk?" "Hormones. I started the treatment right around the time I decided to regress Oliver. It worked quite well and right on time." "So, what's left to be said about Oli?" "Well, you know about Sophia now. Do you remember what I told you?" "That she got a fate worst than Oliver?" Claudia nodded, making an expression of pain, "Suck softer, Oli, there's plenty of milk for you." But Oliver couldn't. His heartbeat raced whenever Claudia mentioned Sophia. He wished he could've spared her the punishment her wife had decided for her. But he didn't. And had he tried, he would've accomplished nothing. "What's worst than being regressed the way you did with Oliver?" "Oli here is just Oliver being treated like a baby. He thinks like a man still; that's part of his punishment. But if he ever wanted to leave me, he could just do so. The possibility of getting a normal life is still there." "What do you mean? He can decide to stop it?" Claudia nodded, "He's here because he wants to. Well, of course, if he ever left, he would have to start from zero. No money, no car, no house, no wife, no son. Nothing. I actually gave him that choice a few weeks ago." It had been one night after being milked by his wife. Oli was in his playpen pretending to play as he did most of the time when the doorbell rang. Claudia opened the door to reveal his son, Eric, and his wife, Linda. They had an announcement to make. Linda was finally pregnant. It was a time for celebration, but obviously, Oli wasn't allowed to celebrate with them. "You will have someone to have playdates with," said Claudia. "That's gonna be so cute!" Said Linda, "Imagine, your grandchild will be potty trained long before you ever get out of diapers." "If he ever gets out," said Eric, still disgusted at his father's state. "Well, that can be arranged," said Claudia, "Do you want to be allowed to grow back, Oli?" Oliver nodded enthusiastically. "Wait a second. You need to understand what it would mean. I think it's time I'm honest with you. It's more than you deserve, but it was bound to happen." "Honest?" Asked Oliver, still with a pacifier in his mouth, which just made him sound pathetic. "Well, you see. I know all about Sophia." Oliver froze right there. "Don't worry. I've already dealt with her. But I've known for a while now," said Claudia, and she explained everything to Oliver, from the drugs to the doctor and her therapist friend, everything, including Kendall's involvement. He couldn't believe it. Oliver turned to see his son and daughter-in-law but neither moved nor acted surprised. "What?" Asked Eric, "You thought we didn't know? I don't know why Mom didn't just dump your disgusting ass at once, but I guess this works too. Real, don't cheat, Dad. Or, I guess, baby brother." "You have a decision to make. You can have your old life back. Minus me, your son, the house, your job, or any possession. If already ensure of that." Oliver said nothing, looking up at his wife and son, feeling smaller now than he had ever felt. "Or you can stay like this for as long as I please. Let's be honest; it's more natural, isn't it? You were never much of a man anyway. What do you say?" Oliver's breathing was hard, and his vision was slightly blurry. "Anything?" Asked Claudia with her devilish smile. It was just too much for him to deal with. His little mind kinda broke, and his body decided to answer for him. A loud wet fart echoed through the room, followed by the biggest, most stinky mess he had ever done in his life. One that spread all through his crotch in a matter of seconds. "I made oopsies, Mommy." Everyone laughed. Back in the present, Oliver opened his eyes; he was still attached to his wife's nipple. Claudia and Julia were still giggling about his downfall. And his diaper was still full of his own shit. It was a surprise to him that it had not leaked yet. "I think it's time to change him. And it's also time to show you what happened to little Sophia." Julia stood up with difficulty after her fifth glass of wine, "This I have to see." A few minutes later, they were inside a large room in the house. A nursery, for all intents and purposes, with two large cribs inside and a giant changing table. Why two? Well, that was answered as soon as they got close enough to see what lay inside. A young woman, no older than twenty-five, was sleeping in her crib. Her diaper was also full, almost leaking, and she was sucking on her thumb even though she had a pacifier right next to her. "Is that…Wait. Is that the mistress?" Asked Julia, slightly bit tipsy. "Indeed." Oliver looked away. He hated looking at Sophia now, even though he had loved to do so before. She was gone, though. The pretty girl everyone wanted that he actually got. What remained was not even a shell of her former self. Sophia was now no more than a toddler, newborn, for that matter. He couldn't think about anything else but cooking on her thumb while she drooled. And she had no memory of being an accomplished young woman. No memory of the time they shared together. There was nothing left of Sophia. "When are you going to tell me what happened with her?" "Maybe another day," said Claudia, placing Oliver over the changing table, "Right now, it's time for Oli to make some cummies. Right, Oli?" Oliver blushed, nodding and sucking on his pacifier. He surrendered. Sophia had not chosen her fate, but he was more than willing to play along with it. Maybe they were right. It was just natural to him. Maybe, just maybe, being a baby wasn't the worst possible punishment. And he smiled as he felt the hard vibration of her wife's milking device against his padded crotch. And he closed his eyes in pleasure, forgetting everything else. ............................................. Hey guys! This story is free for everyone because of the contest. If you want to read more stories with similar themes or you prefer female regression, including mothers, teachers, and older sisters, you can subscribe to my website: The Padded Playground

A Stay At The Clinic. Chapter 1 ''Why are we coming back here again?', Noel asked his wife as she drove through the security gate. 'This place creeps me out,' Noel added, eyeing with obvious displeasure the big white building coming into view through the trees. 'I still have some business to do here,' Ann replied calmly. 'As for creeping you out, I suggest you become a little more grown up and consider how things really are. This place does an excellent job for a lot of people who need special care." Noel was unrepentant. 'Well, I think it's creepy,' he said, thinking of the strange behaviour of the people he'd seen in the clinic's 'activity area' last time he traipsed along as Ann did her business. 'What do you have to do here anyway?' asked Noel 'Business, Noel,' said Ann. Noel returned to staring out the window. It had been almost six months since Ann had discussed any 'business' with him. He had got over his resentment of that, but he still didn't like the way Ann talked about her work - which they used to discuss together - as something that no longer concerned Noel. Worse, if he pushed the matter, he'd be told that whatever business it was was 'complicated' or would be 'too hard to explain.'. Noel was a former financial analyst, for God's sake. Fair enough, he'd lost some of his higher level functions, if he remembered correctly what the insurance company's shrink had said. At least what she had written, thought Noel. Naturally she didn't speak to him. She spoke to Ann, and emailed her a multi page report which Noel had managed to find on Ann's computer. It wasn't fair, Noel thought. Sitting in what had been their shared home office, and which had subtly over the months become Ann's domain, Noel had been carefully trying to make sense of the report. All he'd read was the last page. Even that had taken ages, because he needed a dictionary now for long words. Even then, some sentences, even ones people say, had become difficult to work out. The dictionary was hard enough to use, too. Anyway, Ann had found Noel in 'her' office and had been very cross. That was the first time she'd hit him. She'd punished him on the spot, bending him over and spanking his backside so hard that he cried for the first time he could remember. For once he'd been thankful for the limited insulation of the pullup he now wore in case of slight small accidents. Even accepting that he needed to wear those had been a struggle, and had turned out to be yet another example of Ann getting her way. There was no doubt about it. She wore the pants. She was the head of the household, and expected Noel to ask her permission for things. She didn't expect or like her authority to be questioned. Obviously that wasn't fair, Noel thought, but he couldn't do anything about it. He'd told the psychologist he saw every month about being spanked, expecting some sympathy. He'd had to work up the courage to say something so bad about Ann as her hitting him, but to his surprise, Jane, the psychologist asked him if he thought he deserved to be spanked for what he'd done. After all, Jane had told him, looking at Ann's computer without asking her was 'very naughty'. But she spanked me Jane!, Noel had responded, quite shocked that Jane was taking Ann's side. Worse, the whole discussion with Jane made Noel angry and anxious, which were exactly the conditions most likely to result in further problems. Sure enough, in spite of his efforts to stay calm, the discussion with Jane brought on the tears which came too readily now, and worse, a wet pullup. Jane had called Ann into their 'one on one' session and Ann had changed Noel's pullup right there, in front of Jane, then being told yet again to try to be a grownup and not to sulk. How could anyone not sulk when they were treated so badly, Noel had thought. He'd learned his lessons slowly. Ann was in charge of their business affairs. There was no question of that. She made the decisions for both of them, then told him what she'd done - if she thought he needed to know. That wasn't really fair either, although Noel knew he had trouble understanding numbers and words when they were all mixed up. Ann would tell him that she didn't have time to explain, or worse, that he 'wouldn't understand' as if adults had some special language only they knew. Noel began to get cross with himself as well. He did his best not to think of Ann and the other people around him as 'adults', but often found himself doing so. He'd tell himself he was an adult too, but it was hard to feel convinced of that wearing a wet pullup. He noticed that Ann had stopped the car in the gravel car park near the imposing front door of the clinic. Now she was turning to speak to him. 'I want you to come inside with me, and be on your best behaviour. OK?' Ann said, reaching out and moving some of Noel's lanky hair out of his eyes. Noel had heard that sort of thing before. 'I'm not grumpy,' he objected crossly. None of this was fair. 'Noel, I know that sulky look. I don't want to see it, OK? Just be good,' Ann said firmly. 'All right,' replied Noel just as firmly, not looking at Ann but staring out of the window. Ann looked steadily at the side of Noel's head for a moment and sighed. Noel shifted in the seat to get more comfortable. 'Do you need your pullup changed?' Ann asked him. 'It's fine,' said Noel. Ann's response was to reach over and squeeze Noel's crotch with one hand. 'For heaven's sake, Noel, you're soaked,' said Ann. 'We've talked about this. Are you going to start being responsible and tell me when you need a change, or do you want me to start checking your diaper every 20 minutes like a two year old's? 'It's not a diaper,' said Noel. 'It's a pullup.' 'Noel, stop it,' Ann told him. 'For your information, it is a diaper. It's just called a pullup. You need to wear diapers, Noel. It's called reality. You wet the bed every night, and now you wet most days as well. Remember what Jane said? She said you'd soon need to change to proper daytime diapers, and I think that time has come. I've already bought a supply of your new daytime diapers, and I've brought a couple today as spares. They'll have a room here we can use. I think this is the perfect time and place to make the change.' Noel began crying. Ann sighed again. 'I'm sorry you're upset, Noel,' she said, 'But we have to accept things as they are and deal with them in the most effective way. Now, I'm going to get you out of the car, and we're going inside. You've met Dr Carla and her nurse, so I expect you to be cooperative.' Ann caught the blank look from Noel. She breathed in. 'I expect you to be a good boy,' said Ann, 'And do what you're told, whether it's me, or one of the staff here telling you. OK?' 'OK,' conceded Noel, and took Ann's hand. 'Good boy,' she said as she closed the door and led Noel to the big entrance. 'And Noel, honey?' Ann said. 'Yes?' replied Noel. 'I want you to know that all I want is what's best for you. Do you understand that?' Ann said. 'Yes,' said Noel, wondering why she said that. He knew she loved him, in spite of his problems. Ann kissed him on the cheek. 'Now be good,' she said, and led him inside. To be continued. '

Only once the lock to the room finally clicked behind him did Nathan breath a long sigh of relief. He had been nothing but a ball of nerves ever since he had left the house— no, even before that. Somehow he had managed to keep it together when he had explained to his wife Jean days before that he had a business trip coming up soon and would be gone for the weekend, probably helped by the fact that this was not the first time he had pulled this similar ruse on her and managed to get away with it. He loved Jean, he truly did. They had been married for fourteen blissful years already, and he was more than ready to spend the rest of his life with her, but there were just some times where he just needed to get away for a few days, to just let himself truly… relax. Looking around himself, he eyed the motel room he had rented out for the weekend. It was nothing special, mostly clean, cheap, and far enough away from home that the risk of possibly bumping into someone he knew. It was the kind of motel room you tended to see on all those cop shows, the ones were the balding husband would be absconding away to to have an affair with some hot girl half his age. Having an affair was the last thing on Nathan’s mind though, as his true goal was something far more embarrassing, something that he knew would destroy his life and marriage in an instant if anyone ever found out. Wheeling his suitcase inside, Nathan picked it up and plopped it up onto the bed before unzipping it. Upon open it, he immediately saw all the business clothes he had packed… and quickly tossed them all aside as he revealed the true treasure hidden beneath, ones that took his breath away for a brief moment. Reaching in, Nathan picked up one of the plastic rectangles stashed inside, smiling at the loud crinkling sound it made and the colourful prints adorning what was obviously a very large, very thick, and very infantile looking diaper to anyone with eyes. One far too big to fit anyone other than a full grown adult. A full grown adult like Nathan for example, though he wouldn’t be acting like one for much longer. Within moments, Nathan had stripped himself out of his stuffy adult clothes and carefully powdered and taped the diaper onto himself, his smile extending from ear to ear as the thickness of the diaper pushed his legs apart enough to give him an adorable waddle, which he spent several minutes doing as the room became filled with the sounds of his crinkling bottom. Once that was done, Nathan reached into his bag and pulled out a large purple pacifier, one that he wasted little time in popping into his mouth and sucking on, an barely audible cooing sound emanating from his mouth as he suckled away. Almost done, the last part of his transformation was the cute baby blue onesie he had packed, which he carefully slipped on before doing up the buttons one the butt flap. The buttons actually seemed to struggle against the sheer thickness of Nathan’s diaper, bulging out in such a way that it was very clear what he was wearing underneath. Like flicking a switch, Nathan felt all the stressed that had been building up over the last few weeks begin to melt away, leaving behind a giggling, excited Adult Baby Boy behind. Minutes later, Nathan was seated on the floor, his diapered butt acting as comfortable cushion as he giggled and laughed at cartoons on the motel tv. During a commercial break, he even traded out his Paci for a bottle of warm milk he quickly prepared, which was gone before the next commercial break. Eventually that milk had to go somewhere, so after a few more cartoons, Nathan felt a telltale tingling in his bladder. Without a second though, he let go and flooded his diaper, smiling at the warmth spreading though his diaper. Reaching his hand down, he squished his now soaked diaper beneath his onesie, imagining himself sitting not in a motel room, but in a massive nursery perfectly prepared to take care of his ever need. Uh oh! Looks like someone needs his diapee changed! In his head, Nathan pictured a woman walking up to him and suddenly checking his diaper, distracting him from his cartoons and toys for a moment as he realized how soaked he really was. The woman would smile and coo at him like the loving nanny she was, picking up with ease as she carried him over to the changing table and setting him down atop it. Once his onesie was undone to reveal the state of his soggy diapers, he would giggle as the woman tickled his belly before gently untaping his used diaper and tossing it into the nearby diaper pail to join the many others like it. He would shiver slightly at the feeling of cold wipes sliding across his crotch, but the woman’s smile would pull him back to smiling and giggling. She would then pull out a diaper with similar designs to the one he had just been wearing—They were his favorite, after all!— and slid it under his bottom, adding a generous amount of sweet smelling powder to his crotch before pulling up the front and securely taping him into a cute diaper once more. There, all clean! She would say as she patted his fresh diaper before leaning down and kissing his forehead, causing Nathan to gaze longingly into Jean’s beautiful eyes and smile as she— Like a slap to the face, Nathan snapped out of his fantasy and shook the image from his mind. As much as he wished it was true, he knew his fantasy would always only remain that: a fantasy. Many times he had tried to come clean to her while they were dating, but every time he had chickened out. Now that they were married, Nathan assumed he had missed his chance. He loved her, and he knew she loved him, but whenever he imagined himself finally telling her about this side of him he became filled with terror. Images of her scowling at him in disgust and calling him a “freak” or a “disgusting pervert” filled his mind and only made it clearer to him that he would need to continue keeping this a secret from her to keep his life intact, no matter how much it made him feel like he was betraying her to do so. She can never know. ———————————————— Jean idly turned the page of her book as she sat on the living room couch, occasionally glancing up at the clock to check the time. Nathan had left some time ago, and so she had started reading to help pass the time now that she was alone. Though while on the outside Jean looked calm and collected, on the inside she was a excited mess. She was barely even reading the book in front of her, using it as more of a distraction as her glances up at the clock became more and more frequent as time seemed to pass painfully slow. She wanted nothing more than to just abandon the book altogether and indulge in what she really wanted, but her mind was set on being patient. Just an hour, long enough that she knew Nathan wouldn’t unexpectedly return home to retrieve something he had forgotten. She could wait that long… right? She lasted about forty-five minutes before she couldn’t take it any more. Tossing the book aside, she leapt up from the couch and practically bounded upstairs, making a beeline for the master bedroom and practically ripping the doors of her walk-in closet open. Nathan almost never came in here, and she trusted him not to snoop even if he did, so she knew her secret was safe from him. Still, she had been super careful to stash it all behind several rows of clothes, just in case. After a few moments spent pushing clothes aside, she finally found what she was looking for. A seemingly inconspicuous brown box lay before her, but inside lay her real prize. Popping the box open, she smiled at the sight of the partially open bag of pink plastic rectangles, all neatly packed and ready to be used. Nathan and her didn’t really want kids, so it might be a bit odd to see her with a pack of diapers at all, let alone one hidden away in the back of her closet. It might seem a bit more odd once you notice that these diapers are far too big for a baby of any kind, large enough to fit a full grown adult. A full grown adult like Jean, for instance. Smiling, Jean carefully extracted one of the diapers from the bag and held it in her hands, bringing it up to her nose for a moment and breathing in the heavenly smell of baby powder laced into the diapers. Unable to contain herself any longer, she hastily strips out her silly adult clothes, bra included, and lays back before unfolding the diaper and positioning it underneath her. Just as she was about to tape it on, however, she almost slapped herself as she realized she’d forgetten something. Toddling naked into the adjoining bathroom and retrieves a bottle of rash cream from under the sink. With cream in hand, she returns to the waiting diaper and sits back down before unscrewing the top of the rash cream and lathering a sufficient layer on her sensitive skin. With that taken care of, she reseals the bottle of cream before setting it aside and finally pulling up the front of the diaper and taping it on. Still naked save for her fresh diaper, Jean spent a few minutes sifting through her collection of clothes for something more “appropriate” to wear, giggling at the clinking sound she made whenever she moved or wiggled her butt. Eventually she settled on a pink lace nightgown that was practically see through and left nothing to the imagination, giggling from knowing that it would do absolutely nothing to hide her new padding. Slipping it on, Jane posed in the mirror for a few minutes, even going as far as to take a few pictures of padded rear for her secret Instagram (making sure to delete the originals once they were uploaded). Once she was satisfied, Jean toddled back downstairs and into the kitchen, where she quickly prepared a bottle of warm chocolate milk for herself. Minutes later, Jean was back to sitting on the living room couch, only now she was giggling and laughing at the cartoons playing out on the tv in front of her. Sucking away at her bottle, it wasn’t long before she had drained it completely, setting it aside and quickly forgetting about it. That was a problem for adult Jean later, not Adult Baby Jean now. All she had to worry about were the colourful sights and sounds coming from the tv. As Jean settled into a much simpler and younger mindset, she felt a slight twinge in her bladder. With barely a thought, Jean let go and flooded her diapers, knowing for experience that they could handle whatever she threw at them, and more. Indeed, while the diaper noticeably expanded as it absorbed her little “accident”, it held fast. During a commercial break, Jean took a moment to examine her how saggy diaper, smiling as she hiked up her nightgown slightly and placed her hand onto her diaper, feeling it squish beneath her touch. As she focused on the warmth of her diaper, the world began to melt around Jean, replacing her normal living room with a huge and fully stocked nursery, one more than ready to see to her every need as she played without a care in the world. She wasn’t alone in her fantasy though, as she had a playmate joining her. The pair would laugh and play the hours away, not caring in the slightest as they soaked their diapers. Eventually though, she would crawl up behind her playmate and take a moment to check their diaper. “Uh-oh!” She would say with a mischievous hint in her voice. “Looks like someone needs his diapee changed!” Then the fantasy would change in a few ways. She would still be diapered as well, obviously, but she would suddenly go from being a playmate to a caregiver, smiling as she picked her playmate up and carried him over to the changing table. After unbuttoning the flaps on his onesie, she would take a moment to tickle his now exposed belly, causing her adorable playmate to giggle and laugh as she went to work changing him out of his sagging diaper and into a fresh one. One diaper change later, she would proudly declare him, “All clean!” Patting the front of his new diaper, she would then lean down and give him a kiss on the forehead as she stared longingly into Nathan’s eyes and— Snapping back to reality with a shake of her head, Jean felt a bubble of shame start to grow in the pit of her stomach. As much as she wanted to, she knew that telling Nathan her secret was simply out of the question, to say nothing about potentially asking him to join her as well! She loved him with all her heart, but that idea that he might react negatively to learning about her secret fantasy horrified to her very core and had kept her from ever telling him while they had been dating. Now that they were married, it was far too late now. Her fantasy would simply remain as that forever: a fantasy. As she turned her attention back to the antics of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck in the hopes of getting back into her little headspace, she only reaffirmed to herself that she could never be honest enough to tell Nathan what she really liked to do while he wasn’t home. He can never know. ——— And so, the pair would both go to bed that night alone, snug in their freshly changed diapers and knowing in their heart that they could never tell the other about their secret fantasies, no matter how much it hurt to keep them secret. Maybe someday the two will discover that they have even more in common that they first realized when they got married, but for now they were both content with continuing to happily indulge in private.

Why can’t I stay at home? Chapter 1 I've done it again - started another story. Be patient! : ) ‘Why can’t I stay at home?’ Bob asked his wife as she drove them towards the large facility in the countryside not far out of their town. ‘Because I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, Bob, and neither does Dr Allen,’ replied Sue. ‘I’d be fine,’ said Bob grumpily. ‘I’m quite capable of being at home.’ ‘Bob, please,’ said Sue. ‘You still need a lot of help. Please stop arguing about it, OK?’ Bob grunted, and stared out of the window. ‘And don’t sulk, Bob,’ said Sue. ‘I’ll only be away for a month, and I don’t want to spend it worrying about you coping at home.’ ‘I have actually lived by myself before,’ said Bob. ‘Not in your present condition,’ said Sue. ‘Now I don’t want any fuss from you. Dr Allen will be here, and I want you to be pleasant and cooperative.’ ‘OK,’ said Bob. He knew the decision had been made, but he was still unhappy. When he had to stop working, he knew things would be different. His medical, and he had to admit it, his psychological issues meant that he would be relying on Sue to a certain extent. However, the way it had worked out, he often felt that Sue was in charge rather than just helping him. He often felt like a kid the way she made the decisions and ordered him around, even in front of people. If he complained it was even worse. Sue would say he was being cranky, making him sound like a fractious child. She’d say she knew best, and the worst thing was she often did, only because she was aware of things that Bob wasn’t. He felt sort of cut off from the adult world, at least the world that Sue operated in. She didn’t discuss things with him like why they couldn’t do things at certain times. Bob’s lack of information wasn’t his fault. ‘Here we are,’ said Sue as they parked near the imposing entrance of the building. 'Sue,' said Bob suddenly. He wanted to broach a subject that he had been trying to put to the back of his mind. 'What, honey?' said Sue. 'About my night time, you know, things, you know,' said Bob. 'Oh. don't worry,' said Sue. 'Dr Allen said that's all taken care of. The staff are very understanding, and you won't be the only one with the same needs.' 'Are you sure?' said Bob. Needing to wear a diaper at night had been a big issue for Bob. Sue had been diapering him every night for months now. It had been embarrassing enough having her do it, and Bob was worried about what would happen here. 'It's just...'; said Bob. 'Bob,' said Sue. 'Don't worry. I've discussed it with Dr Allen, and she said that they have a lot of patients in your position I know you're concerned about it, but try to be grown up. You need to wear them, the staff here are very experienced and there won't be a problem, OK?' 'OK,' said Bob. It was just another reason to not want to be here, he thought. Sue got out of the car and went around to the passenger door as Bob got out. She stopped and tugged Bob’s sweater down over his pants. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ said Bob. ‘Bob, I’ve told you. No fuss. I’ll be back in a month, and you will have everything you need here. The inpatient program is perfect for you,’ said Sue. Sue went to the back of the car and retrieved Bob’s small bag, which she gave to him. Bob followed Sue into the building. He hated institutions. He never thought he’d go anywhere near one, and still found it hard to believe that he was here as a patient. It was bad enough being reduced at home to a kind of patient. Here would be worse. He didn’t even have many clothes for his stay here. Sue said they’d be provided, and Bob couldn’t imagine what they’d give him. No one had mentioned Bob’s night time needs, and he certainly hadn’t brought up the embarrassing subject. He wondered about it. He didn’t think Sue had put any of his horrible night time pants, as he insisted on calling them, in his bag. They were in a big, bulky package with the other things in the bottom of his half of the wardrobe at home. Just something else, he thought, that was taken out of his hands, that didn’t need to be discussed with him. Not that he had asked about packing a bag for his stay here. That was just the sort of thing he was letting Sue do for him, he thought. He had to take more responsibility. The way things were going, she’d take over completely, he thought miserably. Dr Allen was waiting for them in the large foyer. Yet another arrangement he didn’t know about, thought Bob. How did they know he and Sue were coming? Sue was often on her phone organizing things, without any reference to Bob. Usually the most Bob got when he asked was ‘I’m on the phone, Bob,’ or ‘Not now, Bob.’ ‘Hi Sue,’ said Dr Allen. ‘Hi Jane,’ replied Sue. ‘Hello, Bob,’ said Dr Allen, smiling at him. ‘Hi Dr Allen,’ said Bob. He would probably have liked Jane Allen, he thought. But he didn’t like ‘Dr Allen’ or the clinical world she represented. ‘Sue,’ said Dr Allen, ‘This is Mary Fenton. She’s the therapist I mentioned who will be managing Bob’s care while he’s here.’ ‘Hi Sue,’ said Mary, shaking Sue’s hand. ‘I’m pleased to meet you. And you’re Bob,’ she said, turning to him with a smile but without offering her hand. ‘Hello, Bob,' she said. 'Welcome to Pine View. We’re all ready for you.’ Dr Allen took Sue and Bob into a side room with Mary. They sat while Dr Allen and Mary explained that Bob would be admitted – committed, more likely, thought Bob – as an inpatient in the assisted living ward. Assisted living, thought Bob. How had it come to this? He was 30 years old, and needed ‘assisted living’. Well, he thought, he didn’t really need it, it was just Sue’s decision, and Dr Allen’s. Other than the night time stuff, and maybe a few other minor things, he was a perfectly capable human being. Any need for assistance was temporary. He had a few physical problems, with his 'fine motor skills', and he forgot stuff sometimes, but that was mostly because Sue tried to do everything and didn’t tell him what was going on. ‘Bob?’ said Dr Allen. ‘What?’ said Bob. He hadn’t been listening. ‘Bob,’ said Sue, ‘Dr Allen was just explaining that it will be just like being at home. Mary or one of the other staff here will be on hand to help you with anything, and there are activity rooms with plenty of things to do in the activity periods.’ Activity periods, thought Bob. It sounds like a junior school. ‘That’s right,’ said Mary. ‘There are several rooms, and you’ll be able to find the level you’re most comfortable with. We’ll start you off in level three. You’ll make lots of new friends. You’ll be in a group with a group leader who can help you fit in right from the start.’ There was a bit more talk about meals and other arrangements, then everyone got up. Bob waited while Sue signed some papers, and soon he was saying good bye to her. He didn’t feel very good about that. ‘Cheer up, Bob,’ said Mary, who seemed to know how Bob was feeling. ‘She’ll soon be back. Once you’ve said goodbye, I’ll show you your room and the activity space you’ll be in. There’s a lovely outdoor area too. You also need to wear this,’ Mary said, producing a pale blue plastic band like a Fitbit. ‘This goes on your wrist,’ she said, clipping it to Bob’s wrist and twisting a little key into the fastener. ‘It lets us know where you are, and if you need help, you just press the little button on top.’ Sue hugged Bob, and assured him he’d be fine. Bob couldn’t help becoming a little upset. Feeling emotional was one of the things that happened more easily now. He tried not to let it show, but Mary put her arm around him as Sue left. Bob was glad when Dr Allen left and Mary took him down a corridor farther into the building. They passed various busy looking people, and Mary greeted some of them. As they walked along no one paid much attention to Bob, other than a few smiles. ‘This is the activities area,’ said Mary as they went through a pair of double doors into a well lit corridor. They passed an open area to one side, separated by a bright yellow balustrade. Beyond it were low tables and chairs, and several groups of people noisily involved in what looked like making things. There were brightly coloured drawings and posters on the walls. It looked like a kindergarten, thought Bob, expect that the people were too old for kindergarten. There were teenagers and some adults, male and female. They were all dressed in pastel coloured overalls, and Bob noticed that they all had plastic bracelets on like his. There was a woman at a desk at one end who was calling ‘Quiet please’ as they passed. Bob wondered if he’d be in a group like that. When he was first at home, he’d spent time playing internet games, but keeping up with the other players had become quite frustrating and Sue had bought him some things on Dr Allen’s advice. They were a bit young for him, probably, but they were a lot less competitive and Bob could do them at his own pace. He felt a little embarrassed at enjoying them, but he did, as long it was just at home. He realised that he was holding Mary’s hand, and squeezing it. ‘That’s level two,’ said Mary, as if she’d read the concern in his mind. ‘You’ll be in level three.’ They walked on, and Bob found himself worrying if level three would be stressful like the group internet games. To be continued.

This is an old story, quite long but unfinished (what a surprise!). I'll repost it here, and finish it this weekend. I don't know how to get rid of the light blue background behind the font. I can't find a button for it. Any clues appreciated. Kate And Bobbi Chapter 1It was an unusual marriage, some said. Kate was a statuesque 30 year old personal trainer with a daughter who looked likely to become a clone of her tall mother, and Bob was a short, slim, shy man with soft, clear skin, a boyish face and lustrous blonde hair which his mother always told him was wasted on a boy. He was still regularly carded, at 23, when he dared to venture into a club or bar. Bob had never really settled down, and had drifted from one job to another. These days he was not without means from his inheritance, but money didn't seem to be his attraction for Kate. They appeared to be devoted to one another.Things went well for a couple of years, although Bob and Kate's daughter Sue never quite saw eye to eye. Literally, in fact. Bob was barely 5 feet 2, and Sue at 12 when her mother married Bob was already nearly 5 feet 10 inches tall and precociously well-developed. Sue regarded her adored mother's marriage as a mistake.Bob had been working in a large supermarket for a couple of years – a record for him – when the trouble started. Whether it was Kate's height, her air of competence and authority or some need or lack of inner strength in Bob, he had over the two years of marriage, begun to defer to Kate. She made the major decisions, sometimes discussing them with Sue, but Bob was often left out of the loop. He didn't say much about it and just got on with his life. Bob's few friends, and certainly Kate's friends who were mostly women, noticed the change."Does he mind being bossed around? Even Sue does it," observed Sally, one the instructors at the gym where Kate worked."He's happy for us to make decisions," said Kate. "That's the way our marriage works."Bob's subservient position in his small household began to show itself in his job. Increasingly, he was allocated less responsible tasks, and even then someone usually checked his work. Recently, he had been more or less demoted to the role of errand boy. He trotted around the store, doing everyone's bidding. He had his breaks with the checkout girls and had become used to sitting in the lunchroom with them as they chatted. For their part, the girls considered Bob one of themselves. They even joked about how well he fitted in, and in fact, sitting around the big table in the lunchroom, it was hard to tell at a glance that Bob, with his long hair, as Kate liked it, and in the ponytail she pulled it into every morning, wasn't indeed a rather pretty young woman. He was the only male in the store who wore over his clothing one of the red tops all the women wore. He was often listed as Bobbi in store communications. Bob had objected in his mild way once or twice, so he gave up protesting and even answered uncomplainingly to Bobbi, the girls' nickname for him.Bob wasn't unaware of his position in the store's hierarchy, and began to worry about why he wasn't able to make headway against all the stronger personalities around him. He longed for simpler times – in a general way, without knowing what those simpler times might entail. He realized that he didn't really enjoy life, rather, he just lived it.There were some high spots for him. He enjoyed sorting things – physically putting things in different piles and whatever order was required. But those tasks never lasted, and it was back to running errands. He actually preferred working for the women in his workplace. He had to look up at them when they spoke to him, but they seemed gentler on him and less intimidating than some of the big jocks who shoved him around. Bob was now 25, and his life didn't seem to be going anywhere in particular. His favourite at work was Mary Jenkins, who often smiled at him and always had a kind word. "That wife of yours needs a baby to look after," Mrs Jenkins had said after she had watched Bob as a took a call at work from Kate. 'Yes Kate… no… yes… okay… yes… I love you too… bye," comprised Bob's side of the conversation. "She can't spend her time looking after you, no matter how sweet you are," Mrs Jenkins told Bob. "Why don't you try for one?"Bob couldn't tell Mary that Kate's opinion of Bob's capacity for procreation was very low, and that their sex life consisted basically of Bob giving his wife oral sex, and sucking on her glorious breasts. Kate often told Bob that one daughter was enough, and that she was glad Bob didn't want a child of his own, not that Bob had ever said anything about that.That night, Bob had dreamed of having a baby in the house. It was a confusing dream, with Bob not quite sure of his viewpoint during it. He had forgotten the details of the dream when he woke up, or more correctly was woken up by his angry wife. He had wet the bed.Sue, already up and back from her morning run, heard the commotion and watched as Bob shame-facedly carried the bundle of wet bedclothes into the laundry. She gave her stepfather a withering look as only 15 year old girls can. It happened again two nights later, with no dreams about babies, and Bob was terrified that his old problem had returned. Bob had been held back for a year from starting school because he was still in diapers. Even when he did eventually start at infant school, he had regular accidents there, earning himself the unloved nickname Baby Bobby. He was still wetting at night until he was Sue's age, with his mother pinning him into a bulky terry diaper, for economy, with plastic plants over them. Sleepovers with friends were definitely out for Bob. There was no recurrence of wetting the marital bed until a few months after Sue had turned 16 and Kate had supplemented her daughter's savings and helped her buy a car. Bob's job was on a bus route, and Kate had decided that they didn't need his car, and in truth, they found Kate's SUV quite adequate. Kate was out and Bob had once again had to ask Sue for a ride to the hardware shop for some woodwork he was attempting in his shed. Sue was about to go to her regular gym workout, and stood unsmiling in her spandex bodysuit as Bob made his appeal. She turned him down with a few short words as she often did, and on this occasion Bob felt particularly hard done by. He complained to Kate, who supported her daughter, saying that Sue was a busy person and didn't have time to drive around at Bob's pleasure. Bob had had a difficult day at work, managing to mix up the messages he was running for some of the checkout girls, and they had been quite angry with him.Now both Kate and Sue were dismissing his legitimate needs. He went to bed upset that he couldn't have his own car, and that he was so dependent on everyone. He felt small and insignificant. That night, Bob soaked the bed again, in the morning as he headed to the laundry, he ran into Sue who took one look at the bundle of wet bedding and remarked that she hadn't wet the bed since she was four. Bob had no answer, but bit his lip as he packed the sodden sheets and his pyjamas into the washer. His stepdaughter had a solid part time job and was doing well in her studies. She had lots of friends and drove her own car. No-one pushed her around. Bob was struggling at his simple job, and relied on his Kate, and now Sue, for transport. He even had to be on his best behavior and ask them nicely for even that small favour. "Sue is a woman now," Kate had said. "She has her life to lead and can't be running around for you all the time."She'd never told him he was a man. Bob closed the washer door and reached down, feeling his genitals through the track pants Kate had given him to put on. Even to his small hand, there wasn't much to feel. Bob blinked and realized that he was crying.It was a Saturday and after Kate and Sue had left the house on their various business, Bob unloaded the washer and hung out the contents as asked. Both women had had washing in the machine when the sheets went in, and Bob felt a familiar wave of despair wash over him as he hung out their garments with his own. Kate and Sue's jeans were inches longer than his small pair, and even their underwear was several sizes bigger. Bob looked at his little briefs hanging between the larger 'smalls' of his lofty wife and her tall daughter, and felt more than ever the baby of the family. Anyone looking at the washing on the line would think by the comparative sizes of the clothing that there were two adults and a child living in the house. Furtively, he looked at the tag in Sue's bra as he pinned it to the line. 38C. It was almost as big as Kate's, which he knew was 38D. Bob's feelings of misery were accompanied by a small spurt of pee into his underpants. That had been happening recently when he was distressed or under pressure. Bob felt his crotch, and discovered that this time, the wetness had soaked through to his track pants. He pulled them down to make them a bit looser, and hoped they would dry before the women came home. He didn't dare change his clothes – he was sure to be asked why. He thought of the way Sue's gym suit hugged the feminine bulge of her crotch. Clearly, she had no worries about wet patches.With a thick feeling in his throat, Bob retreated inside and picked up the newspaper. It seemed to be full of the doings of people who did more important things than running errands for checkout girls. Boring, he decided, and turned to the cartoons. At least they were interesting, and they cheered him up a bit. He was sorry when he had read the last one that there were no more, then remembered a book in the bookcase nearby. It didn't take long to find it – an old large format Disney book that he'd been given for a youthful birthday. For the next half hour, Bob sat happily reading. It was much easier to read than the newspaper, with big print, simple words and of course, pictures to illustrate the talk bubbles. Bob found that he remembered some of the stories, and they were still just as funny. He was soon engrossed in the adventures of Donald Duck and his nephews, and forgot for the moment his concerns about being the child of the family. While reading, he had felt a twinge in his groin, and had got up to go the the bathroom. As he stood up0-, he realised that his need to pee was more urgent than he had thought, and he had to run to the bathroom. He made it just in time, tearing down his track pants and his underpants in one move and having to squeeze his penis as he pointed it towards the toilet bowl. Relieved not only physically but that he had not wet himself, Bob waggled his little penis dry and returned to his reading, to hear after a minute or two the sound of a car arriving outside, and people's voices. He heard his wife, and the voices of some children. Who had she brought with her, he wondered.The front door opened and Kate walked in with her friend Stella and Stella's two children, Mark and Sally. Bob closed his book and stood up, confident that his pants had dried enough for the dampness not to be noticeable. 'H darling, you know Stella, and Mark and Sally,' Kate said. 'And can you help me with some things from the car?''Hi guys,' Bob said as he headed outside.Kate opened the rear door of the SUV, exposing a couple of cardboard boxes. Bob leaned into the car and pulled towards him a large box. It was quite heavy.'Not that one, honey, it's too heavy,' said Kate. 'Here's one for you.'Kate gave Bob a much smaller box, while she effortlessly lifted the larger box and followed Bob back into the house.He put the carton down where Kate indicated.'Coffee, Stell?' asked Kate. 'Thanks Kate, I could kill for one,' replied Stella. 'And I've got some lemonade for you kids,' said Kate. 'Yummy,' said Sally, a bright seven year old. Her brother, eight, grinned his thanks and they waited expectantly. Stella joined Kate I the kitchen. 'Thanks for helping out,' Stella said. 'I'm at a bit of an impasse with this marketing thing, and I could really use another opinion.''Bugs Bunny!' Sally called excitedly, discovering Bob's book on the sofa.'Oh, that old book of Bob's,' Kate responded with a smile. 'What's that doing out?''I was reading it,' said Bob. 'It's really quite funny. Bugs sends them to Uncle Scrooge, but he doesn't know he has…' began Bob enthusiastically.'OK, honey,' interrupted Kate, 'But Stell and I have to talk about some business. Why don't you show the kids your old Legos? The box is in the study. I was cleaning out the cupboard yesterday and was going to put it in the garage. You can spread them out on the floor there, but remember to tidy up.''Can't I stay here with you?' asked Bob. 'Honey it's just two… two people talking about boring business. Go and show Mark and Sally some of the things you used to make,' Kate said.Bob new an order when he heard one. He turned to go, then paused.'Can I have a coffee?' he asked. 'Honey I've already got a drink for you,' Kate said, handing Bob one of three big glasses of lemonade she had just poured.Mark and Sally happily lined up for their drinks. 'There you are,' said Kate giving the pair the glasses. 'Off you go.'Bob led the two to the study. 'Remember kids, tidy up,' Kate called after them as they went. 'No mess!''We'll be tidy Mrs Johnson!' Mark replied before the trio went through the door out of the room.Bob winced at the minor irritation of Mark using Kate's maiden name. Where had he heard that, Bob wondered. Bob was Bob Wood, and Kate was Mrs Wood, although she practised the business she had started before marriage under her maiden name. Bob was also annoyed that he wasn't allowed coffee and had to have lemonade like Mark and Sally, but on the other hand he had to admit that he was looking forward to getting out his Legos. He hadn't played with them for years. Not that he'd be playing. He'd just show these kids what to do. He was actually glad that he didn't have to sit and listen to Kate and Stella, who hear could hear talking earnestly in the background. Kate was right – as she usually was: it was just two people talking about boring business.It turned out Mark had some good ideas for building with Lego, including some which Bob could not remember using himself. Even Sally was useful, finding just the piece the boys needed as he and Mark showed off their skills to each other. Mark was building a lighthouse, while Bob was engrossed in constructing his 'Bugs Bunny' house. He even made a carrot patch out the front, and was trying to make a giant orange carrot, a task which defeated him, until Mark showed him how to make a realistic cylinder out of different sized Lego bricks. Bob was impressed, and once he'd finished his house, he set to work making another big carrot. It was fun, and Bob ignored the slight twinge from between his legs. He flexed his thigh muscles and changed position as he sat on the big rug. He would go to the bathroom when he had finished his carrot.'Why have you got a ponytail?' Sally asked suddenly.'Er, it's how Kate does it,' Bab answered.'I do my own hair,' Sally told him proudly. 'Do you like ponytails?''I dunno,' said Bob. 'They're OK.''I think it's girly,' said Mark.Bob just grunted, and reached for another orange brick. As he did so, he felt a warmth spreading around his crotch, and stopped in mid reach. He tried to stop the flow, but by the time he had, the damage was done. Sally saw what had happened. 'You wet your pants,' she said quite loudly. Bob looked down. It was far worse than he expected. The whole front of his track pants was dark blue with pee, and he was sitting in a puddle. Mark looked on, somewhat surprised. Bob didn't know what to do. His first thought was that he could run to the bedroom and get changed, but that wouldn't alter what had happened. What would Kate say, he thought.'I'm telling your mummy!' announced Sally as she stood up. Bob caught his breath, held it for a moment, then began to sob, much as he tried not to.Sally sprinted from the room.'You're really wet,' said Mark. 'Why didn't you go and pee?'Kate and Stella looked up as Sally burst into the room. 'Bobby's wet his pants!' she said. 'I think he's crying.'Stella raised her eyebrows and looked at Kate. Kate got up immediately and went to the study.She found Bob sitting on the floor, surrounded by the Legos. He was certainly crying. Mark was sitting next to him. 'He just peed everywhere,' said Mark. 'It's OK, Mark, he's just had an accident. Come on Bob,' she said, helping Bob to his feet. 'Let's get you sorted out.'Kate didn't say much as she stood Bob in the bathroom and took down his wet pants and undies. She turned on the shower and guided him in, then helped him dry. Now dry, Bob stood shivering while Kate opened the cupboard in the bathroom and rummaged around for a moment. She emerged with a thick white object in her hand, which she opened out. Bob wasn't sure what it was, but soon realized what it was for. It was a kind of padded panty with a wide elasticated top. He sure as hell didn't want to wear it, and struggled to get away from Kate. Kate gripped his arm. 'Now Bob, I don't want you to fuss about this. We'll talk about it later. Leg in here please,' she said, holding a leg opening up. Bob knew better than to argue. At least he had stopped crying, and Kate wasn't actually cross, he didn't think. Tentatively, he poked his foot into the opening, and Kate kissed him on the forehead and pulled the panty up his leg to the knee. 'Good boy,' she said. 'Now the other leg.'Bob put his other leg into the strange feeling panty and let Kate tug the garment up snug around his waist. She reached into the front of the panty and pushed his little penis downwards, then gave the panty another tug and turned him around to inspect her work.'All done,' she said. 'I know it will feel funny, but you'll be safe now. No more accidents.'Bob looked up at her in some distress.'I didn't mean to,' he said.'I know, honey. It was just an accident. You can go back and play with the others now,' she said kindly.Kate kissed him again on the forehead, and patted him gently on the rump. Bob wasn't sure what to do. It didn't matter, as Kate guided him back into the study, where Mark and Sally had resumed their Lego building. Bob sat silently on the rug. He wasn't sure if he felt like going on with his carrot. Sally studied Bob's dry track pants closely. 'Did she put your diaper on?' asked Sally. 'I can hear it.'Bob just nodded, and stared at the half built Lego carrot.'So what, Sal,' Mark said. 'You wear a diaper every night.''Shut up, Mark!' objected Sally. 'I've been dry for, for three nights. I bet you used to wet your pants!''Not when I was seven,' said Mark. 'And you're nearly eight.''Shut up and I don't care!' said Sally with vigour. 'Bobby, here's another piece for your carrot.'Sally handed Bob the half block he needed. Bob took it silently and pressed it in place. He decided to concentrate on finishing it and ignored the other two.In the other room, the women heard the raised voices and Stella began to get up to investigate. Kate shook her head and put her hand on Stella's forearm. Stella sat and looked at Kate, who said quietly, 'They'll work it out.'Stella shrugged and resumed her seat. The raised voices quietened down, and Stella and Kate resumed their discussion.The trio in the study, with the exception of Bob, soon moved on too. After all, someone wetting their pants and having to be changed wasn't unheard among Mark and Sally's acquaintances. And Bobby was only a bit bigger than Mark, Sally thought. So maybe he did still need diapers. After all, his mummy had some ready to put him into. Sally felt quite pleased. He probably still wet the bed, just like her. So Mark could just shut up.The incident did change the children's opinion of Bob's status in their pecking order. He wasn't just a big boy playing with Legos, he really was like them. Even littler, probably, despite his size, if he was still in diapers. And that was a pretty cool carrot he was making. Subconsciously, the two children became even more accepting and inclusive of their new friend. So what if he wet his pants? Plenty of kids still did that.So play resumed, with a lot of chatter and giggling.A while later, Kate and Stella had resolved Stella's marketing troubles, and the women went to the study to wind up operations there. They were pleased to see the three playing so happily together, and Kate squatted down to pull up the back of Bob's track pants from which a couple of inches of the top of his pullup was showing, not that it bothered his playmates. Kate was especially pleased to see Bob so happy, considering his incongruous surroundings. Sally looked up with a grin.'Bobby made carrots!' she said excitedly. 'I showed him how to do it,' grumbled Mark.Stella smiled down at the three. 'Don't be grumpy, Mark. They're lovely carrots, Bobby,' she said with a smirk at Kate. 'And what's this little house?''That's Bugs Bunny's house,' said Bob proudly. 'It's got a chimney, too,' he added, indicating the little stack of red blocks on the roof.'For winter, when Bugs and Mrs Bunny sit by the fire,' said Sally.'I could make a fireplace in there!' said Bob, and began to look around for likely components.'Whoa!' said Kate. 'It's time to pack up now, Mark and Sally have to go home.'There was a joint groan from the floor. Kate wasn't really surprised to see Bob joining in. 'Come on kids, tidy up for Kate please,' said Stella. 'Five minutes. Come on, chop chop!'Reluctantly, the builders began to put the Lego away. A few minutes later, Mark and Sally emerged from the study, followed by Bob. Soon everyone was standing at the door saying their goodbyes.'Bye, Bobby!' said Sally. 'I like your ponytail. It's cool, even if it does make you look like a girl.'Bob giggled. Secretly, he liked it too. He liked the way Kate brushed his hair in the morning , and the feel of her pulling his hair together to put it in the rubber band.Once Kate and the children had left, Kate and Bob sat in the living room. 'That was fun, wasn't it?' asked Kate.'Except I had an accident,' said Bob, looking embarrassed. . 'Oh, honey,' said Kate. 'That's not really a big deal. How's your pullup anyway, sweetie?''My what?' replied Bob.'Your pullup. That's what you're wearing. It's just underpants with a bit of padding,' she explained.'Oh,' said Bob. 'It's OK.''What do you mean, OK?' said Kate. 'Let's have a look.''Kate!' objected Bob as Kate stood him up and poked her hand down the front of Bob's track pants. 'You're wet again, honey,' said Kate. 'Did that happen while you were playing?''I dunno,' said Bob, not looking at her. 'I wasn't playing anyway, I was showing them what to do.'Bob felt confused. He had an odd feeling that he had just travelled backwards in time, and now he was back in the present. Yet he was wearing these padded pants. He was 25 and he worked at a supermarket, but he had just wet his pants while he was on the floor, not actually playing, but with a couple of kids and Legos. His head began to swim a little. 'Bob, there's something I want to talk to you about. Let's go into the bedroom,' Kate said, leading Bob out of the living room. 'What do you want to talk about?' he asked.'Some important things, Bob. You'll see,' said Kate. 'Just sit on the bed for a minute.'Bob sat, wondering what important things Kate wanted to talk about, and why in the bedroom.Kate went to the chest of drawers, and took something from a drawer. Then she bent down and took from a basket on the floor a handful of what looked like underpants.'Bob.' She began, 'I know you're under pressure at work.'Bob was taken aback.'How, how do you know that?' he asked.'Bob, I know Mary Jenkins quite well,' she said. 'I have coffee with her every few weeks. She's the reason you're still at the supermarket.'Bob stared at his wife. This was news to him.'When you were dropped from the management trainee program, it was Mary who suggested that you become the new office ju… office helper to keep things running smoothly,' she said. 'You replaced Jenny, do you remember her?''The work experience girl?' said Bob, surprised. 'But my job is much more than what she did! I go into the manager's office and everything. I take, I take all the, all the till rolls…'Kate could see that Bob's eyes were starting to water, and he was starting to catch his breath as he spoke. She knew what was coming next and she put her arm around her poor husband and her heart went out to him as he tried to defend the value of his job. He wasn't just struggling with the job of office junior, which was the actual description of his job, he was struggling with being an adult. Kate thought how genuinely happy he had been playing with Stella's children, and how he seemed to bloom in the unthreatening, undemanding company of the two kids. He really needed her help, Kate knew. Some months before, when Bob's bedwetting had started, Kate had managed to get Bob to see a friend of hers, a paediatric psychologist who, on a dinner visit to Kate and Bob's, had afterwards expressed her concerns to Kate. She felt that Bob's responses were 'compromised in certain ways' and went on to explain that she thought he may be having a kind of slow breakdown, quite rare, but clearly evidenced by some of Bob's words and actions. Even allowing for the unusual inequality of the power relationship within the marriage, which itself wasn't unusual at all, Kate's friend Julie had said, Bob seemed to be, to put it bluntly, Julie had said, regressing. The bedwetting episodes were part of that, Julie said, and the troubles and lack of progress at work. People tended to treat people as they acted, and while Bob was doing his best to fight against it, he was not succeeding, and often projected a persona that was quite obviously at odds with his chronological age. At these times, his subconscious would overpower his conscious will, and it would appear that he had 'given in' to some bizarre impulse, whereas in fact, his adult personality had been pushed by various factors into the background, and the younger Bob within had emerged.'How horrible,' Kate had said at the time, although even then she had felt a strange tremor of delight that Bob might eventually become little Bobby, fully dependent on her; the baby in diapers she had not been able to conceive with him. However, the thought was so weird and alien, that she had tried to banish it whenever it recurred, but it kept coming back. Sometimes it felt as if she and Bob were in a vortex, both approaching, willingly or unwillingly, the same fate from different angles, and neither able to stop what was happening. Kate and Bobbi Chapter 2 Kate stroked Bob's silky hair as she consoled him, eventually guiding him back to sit on the end of the bed. She put her handful of underpants on the bedspread next to Bob and picked a pair from the pile. They were the full cut white fly style that Kate usually bought for Bob. 'Honey,' Kate said, 'do you know what these are?' Bob was confused. 'They're my underpants, Kate. Why have you got them? I thought I was running short. What have you got them for?' Bob asked. 'Bob, I've got a whole week of your underpants from the wash. I want to show you something. This is Monday's pair. I want you to look at the front of them,' Kate said, holding Bob's questioning gaze. 'Tell me what you see on the front of these undies, Bob!' Kate said. Bob swallowed hard, and flushed a little as he realised what this was about. As Kate spread the front of the underpants in front of Bob, he realised that there was only one answer he could give. 'I, erm, I wet a bit on Monday, I think. Just a bit,' he said quietly, looking at Kate's shoes. 'Bob,'Kate said severely, 'Look at me when I'm talking to you please. Bob, I have more of your underpants here. And not only is this mark urine, but all theses rings are,' she said, spreading the fabric still more to show several concentric rings of greyish-yellow discolouration. Bob looked at her, feeling quite frightened about what Kate was going to say next. 'Bob, I know you try your best, but you just aren't handling your toileting very well. Do you go to the bathroom often enough at work? Bob nodded his head miserably 'Speak, please,' Kate ordered him. 'Yes,' Bob squeaked. 'Well that's not what it looks like. Bob, every single pair of your underpants from last week has been wet. Quite wet. If you didn't wear black pants at work, I think you would have been running around with a big wet patch for everyone to see. Bob, you're setting the bed, and we're managing that, but now you are having serious trouble in the daytime as well. That's obvious from these But that's only half the reason I wanted to have this talk. I want to ask you about these,' Kate said, holding up a stiff, crumpled mass of fabric. 'Bob, I found these behind the cupboard in the bathroom. They must have been there at least a fortnight, because I remember washing these jeans just after hour training class graduation. I want you to tell me the truth about why they were stuffed, stained, and smelly, behind the bathroom cupboard.' Kate was standing up now. Bob looked up at her strong thighs, encased in tight, dark blue denim. The denim hugged the swell of her crotch, with the yellow stitched seam pulling slightly up to divide her vulva with a small valley of denim. Bob knew that beneath the denim were the thinnest of underpants. If Kate peed a drop in her pants it would show. And he was damp nearly all the time. It wasn't fair, Bob thought, and felt the tears rising yet again. 'Well, Bob? I'm really cross about this. Not only are these jeans ruined, but you have deliberately tried to deceive me. Is this what you do at work, Bob? Do you try to lie go the other girls? Because that's what deception is, Bob, it's lying. And I will not have you lying to me,' Kate said. Kate hated lying, and was making herself even angrier by talking about it. 'I wet myself!' Bob said frantically. 'I did and I couldn't help it. We got home from the shops and I had to carry the box in and you kept talking to me and then I tried to get to the bathroom and I took them off and put them there because I didn't want to tell you and I had a shower and put my towel on and said I wasn't feeling well and went to bed and you came in and put my diaper on and I'm not a girl, Kate you said 'other girls'. I'm not a girl, I'm a boy.' Bob finished his epic sentence and sat sniffling quietly. 'Bob,' said Kate, 'I didn't mean to call you a girl but I am still very cross that you tried to trick me.' Kate knew what she had in mind, and squirmed slightly at the thought. She became aware of a feeling in her crotch, and squeezed her thigh muscles hard. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from moaning aloud. She knew she was taking advantage of the situation for her own purposes but didn't care. Bob still had to be taught his lesson about lying. Bob was sitting very quietly. He mumbled something at Kate's apology and stared at the floor, anywhere but at the yellowed undies laid out on the bedspread, or at the dried clump of clothing on Kate's knees. 'Bob,' said Kate, 'Wetting your pants during the day is a very childish thing to do, but I know you can't help it at the moment, but lying to, to me, is also very childish. And trying to trick me is not only childish and silly, but wrong. So I'm going to help you remember not to do it ever again. I know you forget things, Bob, but I don't want you to foget this.' Kate bent over to pull Bob to a standing position. She yanked his track pants to his knees and in one powerful move, she sat and pulled his bare bottom across her knees. 'No! Please!' shouted Bob as he realised what was happening. He hadn't been spanked since he was about 12. Now he was about to be spanked by his wife. Kate's strong hand came down hard on her husband's pale cheeks. After two or three more blows, Bob was crying lustily. Kate felt him peeing on her legs after a couple more solid slaps, but she knew that she was wet enough herself to have to wash her jeans and panties anyway. Now she would have to wash the rug at the foot of the bed, too. After a round dozen hard spanks, Kate let Bob up. He flopped onto the bed and howled his eyes out for the next fiftenn minutes. When he had recivered, and Kate had attended to the washing, she walked back into the room, carrying a bulging shopping bag. She had had a quick shower, and had rubbed herself to another massive orgasm. The first she had had after about spank five. She was too elated to worry that she might be a closet sadist, or at best, kinky. She was focused on dealing with her immature little husband. 'Honey, I know it was painful, but you needed to learn a lesson, and smacking you was the best way to teach it,' Kate said. Bob stayed face down on the bed, but at least he stopped crying as Kate spoke. 'So, sweetheart, we're going to try you in daytime pull-ups for a while. You're ruining your undies, and I think that pull-ups might be just what you need. You can relax a little bit and not worry about hiding things from me. If you wet, I want you to come and tell me, and I'll change you. No more wet undies, honey, so sit up, and I'll put these on you.' And so life went on in Kate's household. Stella continued to visit, and her children enjoyed their interludes with Bobby, as they called the big boy who joined in their games. Bob had continued to have daytime wetting accidents. He explained to Kate that the need to go to the toilet came on quite rapidly sometimes, and he had no time to reach the bathroom before he started wetting, and once started, he found it hard to stop. At other times, he wouldn't even notice until he felt his warm pee flooding his crotch. At first, Bob objected to wearing pull-ups during the day, but soon saw the sense of it. He began wearing pull-ups to work as well, and Kate had arranged for Mary to be his 'mum' at work, as Mary called it, and would help him when he needed it with dry pull-ups from the supply Kate gave her. Bob got over his shyness about standing in front of Mary half naked with his little penis in full view. Mary was kind and gentle with him, and he responded to her care by putting himself completely under her control at those times. Mary felt sorry for Bob, and wondered how he and Kate got on with Bob having such a soft little willy. Even his testicles were small, Mary noticed, just a little pink bulge under the short, finger-sized penis that rested on top. For his part, Bob was continuing to have troubles with his job. He wasn't lazy or deliberately neglectful, but Mary could see that if he were overloaded with instructions, he would manage the first couple of things, but would have difficulty remembering the others. He was increasingly being reprimanded by his superiors, and if he weren't such a little cutie in his store top - the smallest among all the girls who wore them - even the checkout girls would have complained when he failed to carry out their wishes. Things at work came to a head a week after a new store-wide change of unform for 'junior female staff'. It seemed automatic that Bob be included in the change. He wasn't female obviously, but his job was invariably performed by the junior female, usually someone working her way up to being a fully-fledged checkout girl. So Bob handed in his red top and was given a new top, still red, but with his name embroidered in an attractive cursive script on the left breast. Some sort of communication error meant that his name appeared as 'Bobbi'. There were new pants too, snug-fitting red cotton pants with a side zip. Some of the chubbier girls complained that the pants made their tummies too noticeable, but in Bob's case the smooth front, stretching over his pull-up under which his downward-pointing penis was barely noticeable anyway, gave him a crotch indistinguishable from any of the girls who wore the same uniform. Bob was carrying a little extra weight anyway, and his soft features and beautiful hair in its rubber-banded ponytail did nothing to dispel the impression that he was a girl like his co-workers. He began to dislike using the men's bathroom and on the occasions he did use it, he would always sit in a cubicle to pee. He had no choice, really. His new pants didn't allow peeing standing at a urinal. By the end of the week, the supervisors who had been addressing the girls as 'girls and Bob' began to just say 'girls'. Bob was too embarrassed to correct them, and as was his way, he simply accepted it. The following week, Bob had become quite confused with a change in his normal routine, and had left a box of till rolls recording the afternoon's trade at several of the checkouts on a cabinet after Mary had stopped him to ask if he needed his usual afternoon change. The result was a recount of all the tills, and the manager was furious with Bob. Mary found him sobbing in the lunch room. He was so wet that his pull-up had leaked badly, and he had soiled himself. Mary took the afternoon off and took him home, sitting on a towel in her car. Bob calmed down during the trip, when Mary asked him why hadn't admitted that he needed a change when she had asked him, he explained that it was Kate's birthday, and that for once he wanted to be grown up enough not to need Mary to change him at work, and to arrive home without needing anyone's help all day. He showed Mary the bracelet he had bought for Kate with money he had saved from his quite meagre wage. Mary felt close to tears when she read the words on the little plate on the simple bracelet: 'I love you'. The band on Bob's ponytail had slipped down, so ?Mary took it off entirely. She was a little shocked at the result. With his blonde hair now falling over his shoulders and framing his pale, round face, Bob looked almost beautiful, certainly very pretty, even for a girl. Mary wondered how much different, how much better his life would have been if he really were the pretty young girl he now appeared to be. And if she weren't in pull-ups, Mary added to herself. 'Mary, I need to pee again,' said Bob quietly. Mary looked across at him. He really did look unhappy. 'Just hold on until we get you home, hon,' she said. 'It's only a few minutes away now.' Bob nodded, and ?Mary sensed the battle he was having. 'Hon, it's ok if you go in your pull-ups. And you're on a towel. It'll be ok,' she said. Bob nodded again, and brushed the hair from his face. There was a roadblock on the way to Kate's house due to what appeared to be a burst water main. Mary slowed and a burly utility worker approached the car. Mary wound down the passenger side window, and the man leant down, placing his big gloved hand on the roof above the window. 'Sorry, lady, this street's blocked, as you can see. So is Saratoga Avenue a bit further down,' he said. 'Hiya, miss,' he added as Bob glanced up at him. 'Where are you headed?' he asked Mary. 'Pine Boulevard,' said Mary. She heard Bob catch his breath, stifling a sob. 'Is she ok?' asked the man with some concern, looking at the pretty young girl in the passenger seat and noticing her soaked crotch. 'She, she's not very well,' Mary said. 'I'm taking her home to her mum.' 'Sorry to hear that,' the big man said. 'Lady, the quickest way to Pine for you is to go back to Arlington, up onto the freeway, then off at the next exit and come back onto Pine. Hey Bobbi,' he said, reading Bob's embroidered name. 'I'm sure you'll be OK. First job is it? My girl works at the supermarket too. Ellie. You probably know her. Part-time on the checkout, Friday nights and weekends. I'll tell her I saw you. You take care, eh, sweet pea?' 'I will, thanks,' Bob managed. Mary was proud of him. Bob knew Ellie. She came to their training sessions, and at the last end of course party, she had been one of the girls who had made Bob up for the beauty parade, in which he had come second. The judge, the area manager for the stores who had attended the 'graduation', hadn't seemed to realise even as he awarded Bob his ribbon, that the pretty young second place getter was actually a boy, not to mention a man of 25. Bob was quiet for the rest of the way, and only collapsed crying into Kate's arms after Mary had gone. 'Katie, what's happening to me?' he managed between heavy sobs. Kate had no answer, and just hugged him closer. It was the first time Bob had messed his pull-up, and after Kate had cleaned him up and changed him, just in case, into one of his new night time diapers and plastic pants and pulled his track pants over their bulk, she settled Bob in front of one of his favourite cartoon shows on TV and rang her psychologist friend Julie from the privacy of the bedroom. 'The poor thing,' said Julie when Kate had told her what had happened. 'I've got a couple of urology referrals on Wednesday afternoon. You could bring him in after them, at about 3,' Julie said. 'Will he be working?' 'I don't know, Julie,' Kate said. 'One of the staff brought him home, bless her, and she's going to call me tomorrow about Bob's future there. It's not just what happened today. He's been having a hard time there for a while. The other, I mean his workmates have been really good looking out for him, but it really has been a tough time for him.' 'Poor thing,' Julie said. 'It'll work out, I suppose. So I'll see you on Wednesday, then.' 'Yup, see you then,' said Kate and hung up. To be continued.

Hi again. I've just finished a work contract, and found an old story that I'll complete. Here are the first 6 chapters in one. Apologies for the blue background in the first bit. If anyone knows how to get rid of it, please let me know. This story is slightly edited but it's recycled, so as a Christmas present it's a bit like regifting a bottle of wine. Merry Christmas everyone, anyway. Bill and Ruth Chapter 1 Like a lot of men, Bill thought he was different. He was wrong.'Bill!' 'What?' said Bill, blinking up at his wife Ruth, who was sitting up in bed, wide awake. 'What time is it?''It's time to get up, but look at this!' Ruth said, shifting herself to one side of the bed.The big wet circle on the bottom sheet spread out from Bill's hips. Bill felt a flush of fear suffuse his body. This couldn't be happening to him. He stared at the disaster.'Don't just lie there, Bill, give me a hand, please,' said Ruth, getting out of bed and dragging the upper bedclothes off the mattress. Bill stood mutely in his sodden pyjamas. He didn't know what to say.'Sorry, Ruth,' he said, searching her face for a sign of forgiveness.'Sorry won't help, Bill. I was hoping this wouldn't happen. Here, put this in the washing machine, please. I'll ring Jane and we'll try to get you sorted out,' Ruth said.'I don't need sorting out,' Bill protested. 'It was just a one-off. I'm sure of it.'Ruth looked steadily at her husband. 'We've got to get on top of this, Bill,' she said. 'And I don't want any more "Not me, I'm different", OK? You're just a man, Bill, like any other man. You read the papers, Bill.''I try not to,' replied Bill as he gathered up the wet sheet.Ruth rolled her eyes. 'You can toss your pj's in too,' she said. 'Top and bottom. The back of your top is all wet.'Bill glanced back at Ruth as he left the room. It's OK for her, he thought. The New Woman. Three months of bliss - no more work, playing golf, lounging around the house… OK, a few chores, but they were easy enough. Like doing the washing. Bill had that down pat. Clothes in, powder in, spin the dials, set and forget. Even hanging things out was a cinch. Plenty of pegs to hand, start at the far end. It just needed planning.The rise of women in management had reached a kind of tipping point a few years ago, then a small tidal wave of young women seemed to fill any available positions. It was the same with politics. Men seemed to have had a mass change of heart, or got smart, more like it, Bill used to tell himself. Why not leave it to the women? They think they know everything anyway. Life was to short to spend organising halfwits for little return. The fun had gone out of it.Even socially, things had changed. One of Bill's mates at work had been sacked for telling a blonde joke. You had to be kidding. The poor guy's boss overheard him, and she went ballistic, quoting the new Workplace Behaviour Rules at him before telling him he had done his dash. Even the other guy, the one who laughed, only hung on by the skin of his teeth. He was put on three month's probation, and was demoted from area manager to merchandiser. He did the work trainees used to do. He lasted about a week, then told the bitch to stick it. That was the end of him. Bill didn't agree with the new rules, or the elevation of women's sport and all the rest of it. He had given notice, at the urging of Ruth, actually, but he was glad to be home for a while. He thought he'd wait it out until enough guys got pissed off with the way things were going and redressed the balance of things.The trouble is, they never did. Bill had been home now for almost four months. It had been mostly good. He had a few gripes. The new management at the golf club had restricted men to two days a week, and the championship games were now all-female. Or all New Women, to be correct. That was a bummer, but complaining was a banning offence, and caddying for one of the big swinging New Women at least got him onto the course on Saturdays. The bar was women only, at least for alcohol now, but one good effect of the sugary Elixir he was on was that he lost his taste for beer and scotch.The Elixir was supposed to help men adjust to their new roles. As an 'Authorised Provider' Jane dispensed the stuff. Bill would have quietly spat out his doses, but he had to be swabbed once a month, a bit like a racehorse, he thought, and if your saliva showed you weren't taking your dose, you were sent for 'Adjustment'. One of Bill's old golfing four had been 'readjusted', and now he was practically scared of his own shadow. He'd given up golf, and his wife now used his clubs. When Bill asked her how he was getting on, the guy's wife had laughed, and said 'As well as could be expected.' Bill didn't want to ask any more. To tell the truth, he was feeling a bit intimidated by some of these bossy New Women himself. Roll on the revolution, he told himself.'Jane can see us at 10:30,' Ruth called from the kitchen. 'You've got time to do the dishes and clean things up around here. I'll come back and pick you up.'Not driving was another jolt to the system. At least the Elixir stopped him from getting to upset about it, Bill thought. What was the point? It was rare to see a man driving these days, unless he was delivering something somewhere. The way these women drove made Bill feel a lot better as a passenger anyway. At least that was his excuse to himself for feeling so frightened of the other cars hurtling around the roads these days. Bill finished in the laundry and went, naked as he often was now walking around the house, into the bathroom to have a shower. I pissed the bed, he thought angrily. He'd heard of it happening to other guys, but hoped it was a sort of urban myth. Like the stories of men having to give up their credit cards and bank accounts to their wives. You heard stories. 'What the hell?' said Bill as he stood in front of the toilet. There was a sticker on the cistern showing the silhouette of a guy pissing, in a red circle with a bar through it. Next to it was a green square with a man sitting on the toilet. There was a big green tick over the image. Underneath the pictures, it said Male Hygiene Is Your Business.Bill had his piss, then went to look for Ruth. She was packing her briefcase and was getting ready to leave.'What's that bullshit on the toilet?' he asked. 'It's not bullshit, Bill, as you so crudely out it. It came in the mail.' Ruth said. 'They're taking the urinals out of hotels and clubs, too, if you hadn't noticed. Standing to pee is filthy, at home as well as anywhere else. I hope you sat down just then.'Bill felt as if he should say something in his defence, but what was the use? 'No,' he said. 'I just read it.''For heaven's sake, Bill,' Ruth said. 'Hygiene. And after you've wet the bed, too. I want you sitting from now on. For everything. Is that understood?'That was the problem. Ruth, like most women now, seemed to think she was in charge. Her command and expectation of obedience in this case was only a little thing, but it was symptomatic of a lot more.'Bill?' she prompted him. 'Hullo?''Yeah, OK,' said Bill. 'But I'm…''But nothing, Bill, you're sitting from now on. Look at me and tell me that you will sit to use the toilet, please?'Bill took a deep breath. He knew this routine.'I will sit to use the toiket from now on, Ruth,' he said. 'That's better,' said Ruth. 'I'll be back at 10. Dishes. Bye, honey.'Ruth blew him a kiss. Bill felt a bit better, and smiled back at her. 'Bye,' he said. Sitting to piss wasn't such a big deal, he thought. 10 o'clock came around soon enough. Bill had finished the dishes, tidied the kitchen, made the bed and put some clothes on by the time Ruth returned to take him to the doctor. 'I don't want to go,' said Bill, standing his ground as Ruth tried to lead him to the front door.'Bill, do you want me to get cross?' asked Ruth, holding the front door open and grasping Bill's reluctant arm with the other. 'No,' said Bill grumpily. 'Well, come on then. It's for your own good,' Ruth said as they headed to her car. For my own good, thought Bill. How many times had he heard that since things had changed. Every time men lost something to these powerful women, it was 'for our own good'.'Have you got clean undies on?' asked Ruth as she held the passenger door open for Bill. 'Of course,' said Bill. 'Is there going to be a physical?''There may be,' said Ruth. 'Last time I looked at your underwear, there was a damp patch, that's all.''That's normal,' said Bill. 'Just drips, you know?'Ruth was silent for a moment. 'Well, from now on, I want you wiping as well as sitting to pee, OK? If that doesn't help, I might put you in pants with a liner,' said Ruth.'Those things!' said Bill. He had seen the ads. 'I don't need them!' he said hotly. 'Valerie has put John in them. He was 'dripping' too. So there's no reason you shouldn't have them if you have the same problem,' replied Ruth matter-of-factly. 'John's wetting at night too, by the way.'Bill thought of his friend John, who had cut a recent phone conversation with Bill short 'because Val doesn't like me spending too long on the phone'. John was turning into a wuss, Bill had decided. 'So what?' said Bill. 'And anyway, you probably drip a bit into your panties too, sometimes,' he added, feeling proud that he was still able to stand up to his wife. Ruth hit the brakes hard, and pulled over to the side of the road. She turned to Bill and glared at him. Bill felt his bravado evaporate, and felt a tightening in his stomach.'Bill, you do not ever say that sort of thing about women,' Ruth said angrily. 'Any woman, and especially to me. You are in no position to talk about women's personal matters like that. You are right out of order. I want an apology, and some respect.''I'm sorry, Ruth,' he said, feeling quite frightened. 'I really am. I apologise.''That's better. Just remember, if you'd said something like that to anyone in public, you'd probably be heading for Adjustment. Think about that, and try to be a little bit grown up.' said Ruth, releasing the brake and turning back onto the bitumen. Bill sat quietly. He wondered if there was something in the Elixir that made him so timid when Ruth got angry. Ruth was right, too. There had been one or two times lately when he had peed slightly in his pants, when he was very tired, or when he was surprised, or a long way from a bathroom. He thought Ruth hadn't noticed. After all, he did most of the laundry. Was she checking the dirty laundry, he wondered. He certainly couldn't ask her that. He decided that he would have to be careful it didn't happen again. It had been a couple of months at least since Ruth had taken Bill to Jane's clinic. Ruth spoke to the receptionist, and they walked into the waiting room. There were two other couples there, the men sitting quietly while the women talked. The two women smiled and nodded at Ruth, and Bill averted his eyes and sat next to her. Bill glanced at the other men. One of them looked quite emotional, or unhappy at least, and was holding his wife's hand. A door opened and a pretty nurse strode in. 'Sue Thomas and Andy,' she said, looking at one of the couples. The wife of the hand-holding man stood up, but the man stayed put. He began to cry. 'Andy, don't be silly,' she told him. 'We've talked about this, remember? Lots of men wear them now. It's quite normal.'Andy looked quickly around the room as he followed his wife through the door. Bill thought he looked utterly ashamed.The door shut behind the couple, and Bill looked up and around the room. On the wall, there was the usual poster extolling the virtues of the Elixir. 'Elixir makes your man a happy man' it said, under a beaming picture of a slightly chubby-faced man looking up at his rather handsome-looking wife. Next to it there was a new poster that Bill hadn't seen before. It showed a similarly striking wife looking down with satisfaction at a man half curled up on a bed. The man was wearing a pyjama top and what looked like large, thick white underpants. Under the image it said 'Your man will sleep better and so will you. Rest easy with him in fully washable Confi-Pants. Solutions for night and daywear.'Bill's eyes widened as he realised what the Confi-Pants were. He looked urgently at Ruth. To his horror, she seemed to be looking at the poster too. She put her hand on Bill's thigh and smiled at him. He was about to say something when another door opened and the tall figure of Jane appeared. 'Hi Ruth,' said Jane. 'Good to see you. Do come in, please.''Hi Bill,' Jane added as Ruth led the way through the door. Bill sat silently while Ruth and Jane talked. 'How's he been?' Jane asked.Bill was used to women talking about himi front of him. Ruth gave Jane a rundown on recent events. Bill cringed as Ruth detailed his bedwetting, and even described the damp patches on his underwear. At last, the doctor turned to Bill. He felt as if he had only just become visible.'Well, Bill,' she said. 'We have been having a few problems, haven't we?'Bill nodded. He felt both embarrassed and annoyed, but he knew now was not the time to vent his feelings, if there ever was a suitable time.'You're not alone, Bill,' Jane continued. 'Lots of men experience a lessening of bladder control. It's quite normal and not a big issue. There are some excellent products to help you, and you know you have Ruth's support, and of course my support, too. The main thing, though, is that you accept what's happening. There's no shame in it at all. In fact, lots of my patients are men just like you, and they are very grateful for the help available. I think you will be too, Bill.'Ruth looked at Bill with an expression of compassion. Bill felt the tears welling up in his eyes.'Oh, Bill,' said Jane. 'I'm sure it's not easy for you to accept help with this, but you do need help honey. Can you stand up, please?'Bill stood uncertainly. Jane got up from her chair. She put on a pair of latex gloves, which made Bill wonder what she was going to do next. Jane reached down and put her hand to Bill's crotch.'Look, Bill,' she said. Bill looked down at his tan chinos. There was a wet patch between his legs, extending in a little half moon halfway up his fly and for a few inches down each inner thigh the material was dark and wet. Bill's heart missed a beat. When did that happpen, he thought. He looked desperately at Jane as she withdrew her hand and stood facing him.'I didn't, I mean, I didn't know that…' he stammered.'it's OK, Bill,' said Jane kindly. 'As I said, you are very far from alone. Most men now are experiencing exactly what you are going through. It's a part of the big changes you are going through. Women understand, and we can help.''Why?' asked Bill, trying hard to control his emotions. He had heard vague stories about men needing diapers. It wasn't going to happen to him, he had thought. He was different. Sure, he ahd a few little trickles from time to time, and OK, he had wet the bed. But that was a one off. Like last time, he thought, then remembered that 'last time' was years ago, when he was in his early teens. 'Because there are a lot of changes going on,' said Jane. 'Changes in the way we live, and changes in our own behaviour, Bill. In women's behaviour, and in men's. It's all for the better. you know that we don't have an army now, and the ladies who run things get together regularly to make sure that the world continues to be a peacefiul place. You men are much happier now. You're being properly cared for, and part of that care is what I'm talking about now. You want to be properly looked after, don't you Bill? Having your needs met, and living a happy, comfortable life?'Bill couldn't argue with that. 'Yes,' he said. He flexed his thigh muscles. He could feel now that he had wet his pants. Here, of all places, he thought miserably. He could feel his bottom lip trembling, and he began to cry. Then he felt Ruth's arms ambracing him, and Jane or no Jane, he buried his head in her soft breasts. The room was quiet except for Bill's gentle sobbing.'It's alright, Bill,' Jane cooed, nodding at Ruth as she carefully took Bill's arm and led him to the low padded table at one side of the consulting room. She left Bill standing in front of the table while she opened a cupboard and withdrew an odd, bowl shaped plastic container. Bill stared at it, It looked like a big dog bowl with a profiled top.'Bill, I'm going to take your wet pants off, OK?' said Jane, as she unbuttoned Bill's pants at the waist. Ruth was standing next to Bill, stroking his hair.'It's alright, baby,' she told him. 'Jane is just helping you.'Bill stood stiffly as Jane pulled his pants down, exposing his wet underpants. He tried to stifle his sobs.'I'm sorry,' he said through his tears. 'Shh, Bill,' said Jane. 'There's no need to be sorry. This is all very natural, and you're being a very good boy about it.'Bill felt like a child as Jane took of his shoes and pulled each leg of his pants over his feet. Jane's fingers worked his underpants down his legs and took those off too. Bill felt himself blushing as Jane squatted in front of him. She would be looking straight at his bare genitals, he thought.'That wasn't so bad, was it?' said Jane as she stood up. 'Now, I want you to just pop yourself on here and have a wee. Can you do that for me?'Jane indicated the dog bowl-like container on the floor. Bill responded in a daze. The light pressure of Jane's hands as she guided him onto the bowl. Bill looked at Ruth for support. She smiled lovingly back at him.As Bill sat on the plastic bowl, Jane reached down and tucked his penis behind a small raised protion of the bowl in front of him. The curved flange around the rim made it quite comfortable to sit on. In his sitting position, with his knees bent up in front of him, Bill found himself almost automatically peeing. He listened to the splashing of his urine into the bowl. It wasn't long before the stream stopped.'Good boy, Bill!' said Jane.Bill actually felt a rush of pleasure at the compliment. He had been feeling threatened by the doctor, and scared of what was going to happen next, but now he remembered what he was doing. He remembered too, quite clearly, his mother's approval last time he had used the potty. That's what it was, he thought, happy that he had reminded himself of the word. It was a potty. An adult one, but still a potty.'Good boy, Billie.' his mother had said. 'I'm very proud of you.'Ruth rufffled his hair as he stood up. 'Good boy, Bill, I'm very proud of you,' she said, smiling at him then suddenly kissing him. Bill felt wonderful.'Now, Bill, up we get,' said Jane, helping him onto the padded bench.Bill complied with a grin. He had been feeling embarrassed and shameful about wetting his pants, but it was different now. He felt quite proud of having won approval from the two women.'I'm just going to have a good look at you, Bill,' said Jane. She pulled Bill's shoirt up to his chest, and began a routine of squeezing and pressing his stomach. Then she produced a stethoscope, and listened to his heart. After a minute, she picked up a jar, and opened it. She dipped her fingers in the jar, and applied some cool cream to Bill's privates.'This is just part of your treatment,' she reassured Bill as he started at the touch of her fingers. Jane wiped the cream around his penis and scrotum, and smeared it around his groin and lower tummy. The she turned him over, and Bill twitched again as she applied it to the soft flesh of his buttocks.Bill looked at Ruth, who was still smiling, and held his hand. Bill felt reassured. He really was being looked after.Next came the oral swab Bill had every time he visited the clinic. It only took a moment, and Jane entered the result on an iPad on her desk. 'All good,' she said, 'And that's it, Bill. Down you pop,'As Bill climbed off the table, Jane held out some puffy-looking white underpants.'Don't worry, Billie,' she said. 'These are perfectly comfortable. They'll stop the cream getting on your clothes, and if you have another accident, they'll stop you getting a wet patch. As I said, most men wear these now.'Bill put one leg into the pants as Jane held the waist open for him. Ruth squeezed his hand as he put his other leg in. Jane pulled the pants up past his waist. Bill felt the elasticated waist pressing slightly on his torso, and more elastic around the legholes lightly gripping his thighs. Tentatively, he put one hand to his crotch. He could just feel his genitalia beneath the material. His fingers slid around a little. The material seemed to be in layers, with a slippery layer somewhere in between.'They feel a little different, Bill,' explained Jane. 'That's because of they way they're made to help you stay comfortable. Most men really like them.''Do you wear these?' asked Bill. He wondered as soon as he said it if it was a silly question. But did women wear them?Jane laughed pleasantly and smiled at Bill.'No, honey, we're women. But men need them, and that's why you are wearing them,' she said.'Do girls wear them?' Bill continued.'No, honey, but little boys do. There's no need to worry. I live with a boy, a man, who wears them all the time. And he wets his bed just like you. So you needn't worry. And it's a lot better than wettting your pants, isn't it?' Jane said. They were warm and comfortable. And Bill felt relieved at not having to worry about his little trickles any more. Jane was right. He did need looking after, and she and Ruth were doing just that.'What about my pants?' Bill asked suddenly. He couldn't go home in his new underpants.'Just see Annie on your way out,' said Jane. 'She'll have something for you. I'll put these in a bag for the wash,' she added, folding Bill's wet chinos and placing them in a plastic bag which she handed to Ruth.'I do the washing!' said Bill proudly. 'I'm sure you do,' said Jane with a smile. 'You're a very clever boy.'Bill beamed with pride. To think he had not wanted to come here today, he thought. Now, not only did he feel much better about his occasional accidents, but he had had nothing but compliments from Jane since he had arrived.'You're nice,' he said, grinning thankfully at Jane.'So are you, honeybunch,' replied Jane.'Thanks so much, Jane,' said Ruth, taking Bill's hand as she turned to the door.'Glad to help,' said Jane. 'Annie will have your things. Can I have a quick word, Ruth?'Ruth ushered Bill through the door. 'Just wait in the waiting room, honey. I won't be long,' she said, and turned back to Jane, who reached around Ruth and gently closed the door.Bill looked around the now empty waiting room. He looked again at the posters. He wasn't sure if he should be proud or ashamed that he was now like one of the men in the posters, happily looking up at his wife in his puffy panties. At least he didn't need those big thick ones at night. Bill decided that he would not wet the bed again. Before leaving the clinic, Ruth took Bill into a side room where Annie, a pretty young nurse, greeted Bill with a smile and helped him into some new pants. They were a bit like track pants but tighter, and just pulled up. Bill was glad not to have to go outside in just his underpants. Annie left Bill's shirt loose outside the stretchy pants. Bill looked down at his crotch. It looked different now, a little bit pufffy, he thought, but at least it was dry.Bill led the way out, followed by Ruth who carried a large carton. Once they were outside, Bill noticed another couple walking towards the clinic. The man was dressed in the same stretchy pants as he had on, and he felt pleased to know that he was still like everyone else.Ruth put the carton on the passenger seat, and got Bill into the back seat.'You were very good in there, Bill, apart from one little cry. I think you deserve an ice cream. How about that?' asked Ruth as she clicked his seat belt around him.'Yes please!' said Bill. Bill sat in the back seat, licking his icecream.The golf club wasn't far from their home, and Ruth said that she wanted to call in to sign some card or something for Saturday. She had started playing regularly, and while Bill had at first been upset that he could no longer play, he soon realised that there was nothing to be done about it. Last Saturday, he had stayed at home alone for a few hours while Ruth played her round. He had felt a bit lonely, as he was in the habit of spending his Saturdays socialising, but as Ruth explained, the other men were at home too while the women played, so Bill was content to amuse himself with his computer games or to watch TV.When they reached the carpark, Ruth left to go to the clubhouse. Bill sat in the back seat, with nothing much to do.He had finished the last of his icecream, and was sitting back in the seat when there was a tap on the window. Bill looked up to see Erica Smith, the wife of one of his old golfing partners. He wound the window down. 'Hi Bill!' said Erica.'Hi Erica,' replied Bill. He saw that Tom, his golfing buddy, was standing next to Erica. He didn't look happy. 'Here's Bill,' Erica said. 'Say hi, darling.' Tom hardly glanced at Bill. 'Hi,' he said, then tried to pull away from Erica. Bill saw that Erica had him firmly by the hand.'Tom, behave!' said Erica. 'Do you want another smacking?' Bill's eyes widened in surprise.'I'm sorry, Bill,' said Erica, turning back to him. 'We went to the golf club and he didn't want to leave. I didn't see Ruth. Is she inside?''Yes,' said Bill. 'She's signing something.''Oh, good,' said Erica. 'That will be for the four on Saturday.''I don't know,' said Bill, amazed that Erica had threatened Tom with 'another smacking'.'Tom! Stop that!' said Erica, tugging again at Tom's arm as he tried to pull away from her.'I'd better go,' said Erica. 'I hope you're better behaved for Ruth than this one, Bill ,' she added over her shoulder as she dragged Tom farther into the carpark. Bill watched them go. Erica looked tall and strong in her designer jeans next to Tom, who like Bill had lost a lot of condition and was getting a little chubby. Tom was wearing a brightly coloured top and the same tight pants Bill had on now. Bill was surprised to see how full and bulky Tom's pants looked. He looked as though he was wearing a diaper. Bill sat and thought. He was wearing padded underpants himself, he thought. Not a diaper, but still padded pants. If that hadn't been common now, as Jane and Ruth had told him, he would have felt childish. Bill moved a little in the seat, and his pants felt different. He pressed his fingers behind to his groin. He was definitely wet. He wondered when he had went his pants. He wondered what Ruth would say. He had to tell her. He knew that. Ruth arrived a few minutes later, and got into the car.'Are you OK, honey?' she asked, turning in her seat to Bill.'Yep,' said Bill. 'I saw Erica and Tom.''Did you honey?' said Ruth. 'That was nice.' 'I think Tom had a, you know, those thick looking pants on,' said Bill. 'I saw it.'Ruth was quiet for a moment. 'Yes, Erica mentioned that. Tom wets a lot at night now, Bill, and he's been wetting in the daytime too,' said Ruth.Bill's heart beat a little faster. He had to tell her.'Ruth, I'm a bit wet, I think,' said Bill.He wished he didn't have to say that straight after what Ruth had said about Tom. Ruth didn't answer immediately. 'That's alright, Bill,' she said, looking a little concerned. 'I'll change you when we get home.''I can do it,' said Bill defensively. 'They only pull on.''Of course they do, honey,' said Ruth. 'Sorry. Now, I have to pick up a few groceries on the way home, and that's it.'Bill sat back again, and they drove off. It seemed very odd to see Erica telling Tom she was going to smack him again. Not long ago had been having a beer with Bill after a round of golf, telling his sexist jokes and laughing about Erica complaining about the time he spent in the golf club. Now, it looked as though Erica was definitely in charge, and Tom was wearing a diaper. How long ago had he been having a beer with Tom, Bill wondered. He couldn't remember. He thought again about Erica spanking Tom. He was a grown man. She was his wife, he thought. It was hard to understand.'She said she would spank him,' Bill said as they drove along.'Who said that?' asked Ruth, surprised.'Erica,' said Bill. 'She said she would smack Tom again if he didn't behave. I heard her say it.''Well, honey, he was probably doing something naughty,' said Ruth.She wasn't quite sure how to handle this, she realised. She'd discussed the matter of discipline with Jane during the last few visits, and had a long conversation with the community services adviser Jane had suggested she call. The CSAs were a part of the government's transition strategy. While the Elixir made men more accepting and docile, it also simplified their thinking to some extent, and sometimes the men would become frustrated, not understanding the reason they couldn't have what they wanted at that moment, for example. Bill had been pretty good so far, but the adviser had warned Ruth that he could become self-willed and rebellious despite the Elixir. It was quite normal, and was best treated on the spot with a harsh word, a firm smack or corner time, or in more serious cases, a proper spanking. If the bad behaviour continued, there were available training sessions which the men could be enrolled in. The CSA had also told Ruth It was also likely that Bill's bladder control would deteriorate further, and diapers 24/7 were a common outcome.Ruth found the concept weirdly attractive, and was quite interested to see how long it would be before the potty and diapers in the carton Jane had given her would be part of Bill's life. In the carton was a big packet of pullups, so there would be no problem with changing him when they got home.In the back seat, Bill stretched out his arms and yawned. At the same time, he experienced a pleasurable sensation in his groin. He closed his eyes, and only when he had stopped stretching and sat up again, he realised that he had just soaked his pants with a long, steady pee. Then he felt another sensation. he wasn't feeling unhappy, just mildly shocked, but his eyes began to water, and he caught his breath. He remembered the feeling from long ago. He needed Ruth's attention, now. A moment later, he could hear himself crying loudly. He couldn't stop. What is happening to me, he wondered, then gave himself up to his tears. Arriving home, Ruth helped Bill out of the car. It wasn't hard for Ruth to guess what the problem was, especially after her chat with Jane at the clinic. Daytime wetting was likely to become prevalent, Jane had said, as boys' bodies became more acclimatised to the Elixir. Ruth just hadn't expected the development to happen so suddenly. Neither, apparently, had poor Bill, she thought as she tried to calm him down and led him into the house.'It's OK, honey,' she told him. 'What happened is quite normal. Jane explained it. She looks after Tom, as you know, and she said he was having daytime accidents too. It's not a big deal, just part of the way the Elixir works. The bonus is that it's keeping you happy.''I was happy before, and I wasn't wetting my pants,' Bill told her, wiping his eyes then pulling at the front of his soaked pants. 'And I didn't cry so much before, either.''Don't worry, honey,' Ruth assured him. 'And you weren't really very happy before, were you? Remember all the stress at work? All that worry about your figures?'Bill wasn't sure he did remember much about that. He remembered when he used to go into the city centre all the time. He wasn't even quite sure any more what he used to do there. Every time he thought of it, he felt uncomfortable. He was happy now, he knew that too. He liked being at home, and he liked Ruth looking after him. He had lots of nice things to do at home. Ruth had got things for him to do - games and fun videos to watch.Bill stopped worrying about his wet pants for a moment, and looked at Ruth. He was so lucky to have her really. And he liked the Elixir, too. Every time he had his dose, it made him feel better. Ruth was right. Wet pants weren't a big deal. It was like when he wet the bed. Lots of men did that - the ads on TV showed that. No-one minded, and like the men in the ads, he had someone to look after him if he woke up wet.'Lets go inside and get you changed,' said Ruth, glad Bill seemed to be cheering up. 'It's time for your Elixir, too,' she added. 'You've moved up to strawberry now. Doesn't that sound nice?'Bill nodded. The orange Elixir he'd been having was good, and Ruth had said next time they saw Jane he'd be getting a new flavour. He followed Ruth into the house, looking forward to the new flavour. In the kitchen, Ruth put the carton she had been given at the clinic on the bench, and opened it to take out the bottle of reddish Elixir. 'You can have some now,' she told Bill, 'Then we'll deal with your pants, OK.'That sounded good to Bill. He was eager to try the strawberry Elixir, and he took the glass of rosy looking liquid from Ruth and enjoyed the smooth, velvety feel of the liquid in his mouth. As usual, he felt the pleasant tingling sensation sensation on his tongue as he tasted the fresh, strawberry flavour. Within a few seconds of swallowing his first mouthful, he began to feel on top of the world. 'How does that taste?' asked Ruth, watching Bill as he emptied the glass. 'Great,' said Bill. 'Jane said it would,' said Ruth. 'Now, you hop into the bedroom and take of your pants, then have a quick shower and we'll get you dressed again.'Bill did as he was told. He stripped off his soaked pants and and top and went to the bathroom. In the shower, he began soaping himself, enjoying the feeling of the warm water on his soapy skin. It wasn't until he was rinsing off the soap that he noticed that his pubic hair had gone. His first reaction was to giggle at how funny his dick and balls looked with no hair. They felt different too. He wasn't sure what it meant. Ruth would know, he thought, then his mind began to drift to other things, as it always did after he had had his Elixir. He looked up as Ruth came into the room.'Look!' he said, giggling as he showed her his denuded crotch.'I know, sweetie,' Ruth replied. Jane had told him that the Elixir would stop him worrying about the effects of the depilatory cream. He was probably going to need daytime protection soon, she had said, and loss of his pubic hair was essential for proper hygiene. 'Do you remember Jane putting cream on you? It's much better not to have all that hair. You'll be much more comfortable, and it's healthier too,' Ruth said.'You've got hair,' Bill said. 'I'm a woman, honey,' Ruth said. 'Now, back to the bedroom and onto the bed please.'Bill trotted into the bedroom. 'No!' Bill almost shouted as he saw what Ruth was spreading out on the bed next to where he lay, newly hairless and as naked as the day he was born.'Bill, please be grown up about this,' Ruth replied in a steady voice. She'd discussed the change with the doctor, and expected some resistance. Apart from anything else, the doctor had said, Bill will increasingly react to alterations in his routine. His bedtime, for example; even where Ruth sat him for his meals, and the plate and cup he used. His world is shrinking, if you like, the doctor had told Ruth, and little things in it are growing in importance, in Bill's mind, at least, the doctor said.Ruth watched Bill squirming on the bed. He looked as though he was about to get up. Ruth administered a sharp slap to Bill's pink buttock as he began to roll onto his side. It had the desired effect. Bill froze, and looked in confusion at Ruth. She had never hit him before. Ruth seized the moment, and addressed her husband sternly.'Bill!' she said. 'I said be a grown-up for a minute. this is no different from what you wear every night, except that it's cheaper, and Jane says it will be more comfortable and more effective. So co-operate, or I'll get really cross with you. I don't want to do that, but I will. Now, behave yourself and lift up.'Bill's lower lip was trembling as his eyes remained fixed on Ruth's impassive face. 'Ruth, it's,' he began but was cut off.'I know what it is,' replied Ruth. 'It's a better, cheaper alternative to your night-time diapers, which cost nearly two dollars each and which you are now using two or three of every night.'It was true. Ruth put Bill in his diaper every evening at around 6pm, straight after she gave him his dinner. His bedtime was 7 o'clock now - his acceptance of that had been another little battle - and he was often wet by then and needed a change. Ruth usually got up early, and let Bill stay in bed for an hour or two longer, but he usually woke when she got up and needed another change then. It had become another routine, and although Bill told himself that he only wet his diaper because he was wearing it - an odd logic but one which seemed correct to Bill - he did the sum in his head and came up with 6 dollars per night and 35 dollars every week. Or 60 dollars per week. He wasn't sure, and tried rethinking the sum but got even more confused. he furrowed his brow, and tried again.'Bill!' shouted Ruth as she moved back from the bed.Bill felt the problem before he realised what it was. He was peeing volubly, the urine running from his soft penis, between his thighs and onto the bedspread. He caught his breath, turned away from Ruth and tried to stop peeing, gripping his genitals with one hand as the lest of his pee trickled between his fingers and onto the bed. His emotions welled up and he slipped into the familiar territory of tearful apology to his wife.'Oh, for heaven's sake, Bill,' said Ruth crossly. 'I know you can't help it, but this is the second time you've wet like that in the last two days, isn't it?'Bill honestly couldn't remember. He remembered wetting in the car yesterday, but that wasn't it. Ruth shook some talc generously onto Bill's groin, patted it around his little penis and balls then manhandled Bill's rump upwards with his sobbing assistance and tugged the thick white towelling beneath him.'I'll deal with the bedspread when you're tucked in,' she said. 'I know you're upset, but I want you to stop crying and help me a bit.'Bill did his best, biting his lip and trying to stifle the next sob. He could feel the towelling diaper tightening as Ruth produced some diaper pins and tugged the cloth tightly across his tummy. The towelling was soft and warm, but that wasn't the point.'Now this material isn't waterproof, so you'll have to wear plastic panties too. These,' Ruth said, producing a folded, transparent square and opening it up. Bill looked silently at the big, plastic pants. He never thought he would have to wear something like that. He'd never even seen any posters of men in those. His thoughts swirled.'There,' said Ruth. 'Now, into bed, and I'll change the bedspread. The rest of the bedding might be OK.'Bill lay quietly as Ruth pulled the bedclothes up to his chin. It was clearly too late to complain about the new diaper being a baby diaper. Ruth had explained why he had to wear it, and he was in no position to argue, having just wet all over the bed. Still, the whole episode had been a shock.'He'll accept it sooner or later,' the doctor had told Ruth. 'It shouldn't take long with the Elixir. He may complain of feeling babyish - that's quite common. That isn't all bad, in fact. You said Bill doesn't have a favourite toy yet, didn't you? If he says anything about feeling infantile, it would be a good time to introduce something like that into the picture. It will help him settle in future. If the opportunity arises.'Ruth had been surprised at the doctor's words. 'And,' the doctor had gone on, 'Psychologically, that sort of interaction might be good for you too. It will bring you closer to him. It has for other women. It's a natural expansion of our roles. you might even enjoy it.'Jane had smiled as she said those last words, and Ruth hoped she hadn't noticed the slight rush of pleasure that had raced through Ruth's being. Ruth wasn't sure how guilty she should feel about how she was enjoying personally what after all was a well worked out social transformation aimed at ensuring the sustainability and stability of society. Ruth's friend Erica had said a couple of things about how she felt looking after her husband which had resonated, but Ruth hadn't felt she wanted to share her own feelings at this stage. however, she couldn't deny the strange pleasure she got from just thinking about how dependent Bill had become. And now she had just pinned him into a baby diaper, tucked him in and was considering which soft toy would be best for him.Ruth looked at Bill, who seemed a little out of it. He was just lying there, looking at her. Ruth stood up from where she had been sitting on the bed after getting Bill settled in for the night. She leant over him and kissed his forehead. 'How do you feel, honey?' she asked, noticing the silent tears were slowly coursing down Bill's cheeks. 'Ruth, I, I feel like, like a baby, Ruth,' he managed before breaking into a sob again. 'Baby pants…' he said between sobs, and turned his face to the pillow.Ruth watched him for a second, stroking the back of his head. What Jane had said was true. Ruth understood what a special, not to mention erotic, moment this was. She turned from Bill and picked up the big bag Jane had given her. There was something in the bottom of it. Ruth reached in and pulled out a small vacuum packed yellow object. She pulled art the seal along one side, and extracted the contents, which appeared to inflate into a fluffy yellow ball. she teased it out a bit, and realised it was a bright yellow teddy bear. A girl bear, apparently, as it was wearing a little dotted pink skirt and had red lips and big black eyes. A piece of pink paper fell from it onto the bed as it assumed its proper size. Ruth read Jane's neat script:'Tell him it's from you, with my approval, he'll love it.'Ruth smiled. How lucky we are, she thought, to have a doctor like Jane looking after things.'Honey,' Ruth said, gently shaking Bill's shoulder. 'Ive got a present for you, from Jane and me.'Bill turned slowly. Ruth saw that he'd stopped crying. 'Here you are,' Ruth said.Bill's eyes tried to focus on the yellow thing in front of him. the word 'present' had cheered him up. He had been thinking that he'd been reduced to being a baby. In his sleepy state, he'd been afraid that he might have to wear baby diapers all the time, and people would think he was a baby. Ruth was still grown up, spo was Erica and Jane. Bill had begun to feel quite alone in the way he was being treated. But now, a present - that derailed his unhappy thoughts. He blinked and smiled at the bright yellow object. The colour was nice, whatever it was, he thought. He dug one hand from under the bedclothes and reached out for the bear. Realisation dawned. 'It's a teddy,' he said, half in pleasure and half in question.'Yes,' said Ruth. 'She's for you. Doctor Jane thought you should have her. She's from me too.'Bill's mind was filled with thoughts of how nice Jane had been to him. She was a doctor, too, so the fleeting thought that he shouldn't have a teddy bear evaporated as soon as it appeared. His main emotion was of joy that he wasn't alone, that despite being put in the awful pants, Ruth and Jane cared for him, and that their care was symbolised by the teddy bear. Bill squeezed it. It was so soft, he thought. A new, simpler thought took over. He wasn't alone now. 'Thank you,' he said, his face glowing with happiness. He felt himself peeing again, but he didn't care. 'Thank you Mommy,' he said happliy, his eyes beginning to close as he held the bear next to his face on the pillow. 'I mean, Ruth,' he corrected himself sleepliy.Ruth felt another rush of emotion course through her body, and clenched her pelvic muscles to try to hold onto it. After a moment, she bent down and kissed Bill again, and stroked the bear's yellow coat.'What are you going to call her, honey?' Ruth asked. Bill didn't open his eyes. 'Doctor Jane,' he replied. 'Thank…'Bill's light voice trailed off has he fell asleep. The next morning, Ruth was up and about by the time Bill woke. The first thing Bill was aware of was something thick and tickly in front of his nose. He opened his eyes to see a yellow blur. Blinking, he realised that it was the soft toy Ruth had given him the night before. Bill felt an odd surge or pleasure at having Teddy so close. Itwas such a pelasant thought that Bill gave into it entirely, and gave Teddy an affectionate squeeze.'Good morning,' he said aloud to the toy, and immediately felt foolish for saying it.Bill climbed out of the bed. As he stood up, he felt his soaked cloth diaper sagging inside his plastic pants. It felt quite different than a wet taped on diaper. Bill remembered being pinned into his cloth diaper last night and he remembered arguing with Ruth. He didn't like doing that, and it wasn't a very pleasant memory.'In the kitchen, darling!' came Ruth's voice. 'I'm just going to have a shower,' replied Bill.'No, in here, please darling,' replied Ruth. 'I'm about to leave and I want to talk to you about some things.'Bill shrigged and went to the kitchen. He usually went to the bathroom to pee when he got up, and now he felt himself spurt a bit into his wet diaper. He tried to stop, but his body was insistent, and he let it go. He was wet anyway, he thought. As he entered the kitchen, he pulled his t-shirt down in a futile attempt to cover his diaper.'Good morning, honey,' said Ruth. 'Your juice is on the table.'Ruth laughed as she saw that Bill was holding Teddy in one hand.'Perhaps I should have made breakfast for Teddy, too,' Ruth said, still laughing.Bill blushed. 'I… I just had it in my hand,' he muttered.'Her,' corrected Ruth. 'She happens to be a girl Teddy. Teddy can be a girl's name too. Like Bobby, or Billy, if you were a sweet little girl. Here, we'll put her on this chair.'Ruth reached down to take Teddy, but Bill pulled the toy back possessively. Ruth smiled.'I'll do it,' Bill said, setting Teddy down on the chair. He peed a bit more as he did so, and Ruth noticed the glistening pee through the clear plastic pants. 'Are you wetting again, darling?' asked Ruth with a look of concern. Bill tried to clench his muscles, but it was no use. He looked away from Ruth.'It doesn't matter, honey, that's what your diaper is for,' said Ruth. 'It will hold a bit more. I'll change you before we go out.'Bill didn't answer. So she was going to be change him, he thought. He always wore pullups when they went out, and he was ok with that. He could put those on himself. But now she was going to 'change' him. That could only mean a proper diaper, in the day time. He felt his eyes watering as he sat, very conscious of the solid mass of wet towelling between his bottom and the chair.Ruth watched him, and guessed his thoughts.'Honey, at the moment, you're having a little trouble, and I don't want you wetting the furniture. You've just wet again, haven't you? It's only sensible for you to wear something that can cope with your accidents, so don't get upset. I've got some Elixir or you when you finish your orange juice. Won't that be nice?'Bill nodded. At least that was a bright prospect in an embarrassing morning. He finihsed his orange juice in a couple of gulps, and Ruth handed him his Elixir with a kind smile. Bill took it with both hands. 'Thank you,' he said, and took a long sip of the sweet, silky smooth liquid. Bill could feel the drink doing him good straight away, as he always did. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to smile at Ruth, then at Teddy. 'Feeling better?' asked Ruth. 'Yes, thank you,' replied Bill happily, and took a moment to drain the glass. 'More?' he said to Ruth, holding the glass out towards her.Ruth laughed. Bill loved her silvery laugh. Hearing it was like being showered in soft, shiny leaves. He giggled at the thought. He liked playing in leaves.'Come on baby,' said Ruth, putting out her hand to Bill. 'We have to change that diaper.'As Ruth led him from the kitchen, Bill stopped.'What's up, baby?' Ruth asked.Then she laughed again. 'We forgot Teddy, didn't we?' she said, bending her neck to kiss Bill on the top of his head.'I'll get her,' said Bill, letting go of Ruth's hand to retrieve the doll from the chair. Ruth waited, smiling, while Bill waddled in his sagging diaper to the chair and returned with Teddy. She held her hand out slightly and smiled again as Bill grasped it without hesitation. Ruth changed Bill on a towel on their bed. She spent a little extra time talcing his groin, stroking the soft skin around his bare genitals. Jane had told her that the Elixir would smooth and soften his skin. It certainly had. Ruth was a little jealous, thinking of her own thick, wiry bush compared with Bill's silky skin. Jane said his pubic hair wouldn't grow back, and Ruth picked up Bill's soft, pink penis in her fingers. It had been a long time since it had been erect, Ruth thought. Jane said the Elixir not only softened the skin and reduced the muscle tone, while encouraging subcutaneous fat and reducing body hair to a fine down, but it produced permanent impotence as well. Ruth thought of the still boxed dildo Jane had given her, and which she hadn't dared to use yet. Or rather wear, she thought. Jane said she wore one vaginally most of the time, and suggested Ruth try doing the same. 'Where are we going?' asked Bill, snapping Ruth from her thoughts. 'Oh, just out to get a few things, and make a couple of calls,' replied Ruth, finishing diapering Bill and standing him up to pull on his plastic panties. 'No pull-ups?' asked Bill. Ruth was pleased Bill didn't seem overly concerned. He really was much more placid now, Ruth thought, recalling the arguments and tension even about Bill wearing diapers at night in the past. 'Will we get ice-cream?' asked Bill suddenly. Ruth laughed. 'If you're good,' she told him. 'Let's go,' said Bill, grabbing Ruth's hand and tugging her towards the door. 'Hold on, mister!' said Ruth, laughing again. 'We've got to put pants and a top on you. And shoes. You don't want to go out wearing just your diaper, do you?' Bill stopped, and looked at Ruth. His thoughts whirled. Being diapered, lying back holding Teddy while Ruth gently stroked his tummy and wrapped him in a soft diaper had made him feel that everything was ok and that he was ready to go anywhere. The short-lived first flush of a glass of Elixir had something to do with it as well, of course. Bill tried to collect his thoughts, a process that wasn't always easy. He was big. He was an adult. He wet his pants sometimes because he couldn't help it. He could never go out in public in just his diaper. In just a diaper, he tried to tell himself. He needed pants, and a top to go out. He was grown up, like Ruth. Maybe not quite as grown up, he thought, looking at Ruth's shapely legs and flat crotch encased in her tight jeans. She's a woman, and women are grown up and don't need diapers, he told himself. But he was still a lot grown up. Ruth watched Bill deep in thought with interest. Jane had said that he would struggle internally at times, less and less aggressively, to rationalise his diapers and increasing dependence on Ruth with his years of memories of being an adult. Bill turned to Ruth with an odd look. 'I'm not a baby,' he said. Ruth laughed again, looking at the Bill's soft chubby body and his clean, puffy diaper. 'Of course you're not, honey,' she told him. 'Now let's find some pants and a top for you.' Taking Bill's hand, she led him, still clutching Teddy, across the room to the chest of drawers. With Bill waiting quietly next to her, Ruth opened a drawer and took out two pastel coloured t shirts. On Jane's suggestion, she offered Bill a choice of two equally infantile garments. One had Barney the Dinosaur and friends on the front, and the other Thomas the Tank Engine. Bill grinned when he saw the designs. He enjoyed watching both TV programs. 'Thomas!' he said without prompting and stretched both his arms up towards Jane. 'OK, honey,' said Ruth, 'Thomas it is.' Ruth pulled the selected shirt over her husband's arms and settled the garment around his waist. 'Now for your pants,' she said, and produced a new pair of loose fitting shorts in soft, stretchy terry, with elasticated leg openings. There was no fly or opening. None of Bill's pants had openings or fasteners now. Even his treasured jeans were jeans only in that they were denim. Like all his pants, they had plain fronts and elasticated waists. Bill didn't seem to notice the change to his wardrobe. He had no use for a fly now, and since Ruth always dressed him, he hadn't missed a belt or buttons. There were several firms making toddler clothes in larger sizes, and Jane enjoyed looking through their catalogs. Now that Bill was in diapers 24/7, she had revamped his entire wardrobe. Ruth like dressing Bill in soft colours and she found the plainer styles in the girls and young miss catalogs most suitable. Bill did his best to help Ruth get his legs into the pale yellow pants she'd chosen. His balance wasn't what it was - one reason he took care on steps, holding Jane's hand if he could, and preferred to sit on the floor than at a table when he was colouring in or drawing. Soon, Bill was ready, with his socks and sneakers on as well. Jane thought he looked sweet in his t shirt and bulging terry pants. She knew he was still under the immediate influence of the Elixir, but the occasional later outbursts from Bill of 'I'm big I don't want to go to the shops in a diaper' had become less frequent, and Jane hoped that today would be one of those 'good days'. 'Come on, sweetie,' she said, took Bill's hand and led him out the front door. To be continued.

Hello there,

erased post.

I need some good advice. I recently figured out that I like wearing diapers. This being the case I am also struggling with accepting it. Now I am considering letting my future husband in on my new secret but would have no idea on how to do this. Plus once I tell him I am terrified of how he will react. How do Tell him my secret?