Looking For A Story

[Corwin]

Hello, I've been trying to remember the title of this story, but I keep drawing blanks. I believe it was about 2 friends who made a bet at the bar that they could wear diapers without the longest. The wives caught wind of the bet, and each vowed to have their husband 'win,' effectively forcing their husbands into diapers for the concievable future.

Anyone have an idea what it could be called, or better yet, have a copy they could post? Thanks in advance!

[babyjennie]

Hello, I've been trying to remember the title of this story, but I keep drawing blanks. I believe it was about 2 friends who made a bet at the bar that they could wear diapers without the longest. The wives caught wind of the bet, and each vowed to have their husband 'win,' effectively forcing their husbands into diapers for the concievable future.

Anyone have an idea what it could be called, or better yet, have a copy they could post? Thanks in advance!

Dear Corwin, The story was simply called 'The Bet', but unfortunately I don't know the name of the author. Here's a slightly edited version from Baby Roger's site.

Hugs from Baby Jennie in Australia

THE BET

George and I have known each other since early childhood. In fact we are more like brothers than most brothers can claim to be. We went through all our schooling together, did most of our courting as a team… quite a formidable one at that, I would say. We are practically inseparable. George married first to a lovely girl named Melanie. To be truthful we both fancied her straight away, but it soon became clear that she fancied George more, so of course I stepped aside. A short while later I met my wife-to-be, her name is Heather, and from then on we often went out in a foursome. The girls got on well together, and so every thing was rosy.

We live about 2 miles from one another and made a point of keeping in touch, so after things had settled down, we began what turned out to be a fresh routine. We would all go out together about once a week. Every so often the girls would decide to stay at home or go to the cinema together, leaving George and I a free night to go out drinking. We didn’t do it very often, but I am the first to admit that there were occasions when we drank a little too much. When we got drunk, George and I would often reminisce about our wild adventures and conquests together, then end up getting the giggles as we teased each other.

It was one such evening that changed our lives in so many ways, neither of us could possibly have imagined. It all started off as a big joke. George was saying that I always started things well, but I never managed to see them through. I would get fed up, then dump them. I knew he was right. I had half-completed projects coming out my ears, but I wasn’t going to admit it to him. “What a load of rubbish George. I have twice as much staying power as you do,” I said.

“Nonsense, whatever you try you get fed up with and it all goes to nothing after a week or two. I can name twenty things you have started but never finished,” he said. I knew he could as well so I had to change this discussion.

“What about you, George? You can’t put your mind to anything! I do at least try,” I replied through a haze of alcohol.

“I have more determination than you, and can prove it anytime you want,” he replied testily, but his eyes were glassy and he had difficulty focusing.

Now that was fighting talk! It was a fight that I knew I could win, so I quickly took up that theme. “So you think you can outstay me, do you? Well let me tell you this; if you are so sure, let’s put it to the test, and see who comes out a winner,” I slurred.

“Whatever you say, pal! No problem for me. So what’s it to be?” He challenged.

“I don’t know! Anything. Wait a minute, I have to go to the loo,” I complained.

“I’ll join you on that,” he drunkenly replied.

We both went to the toilet and as we were standing at the bowl, we looked at one another and both burst into fits of laughter. Another guy in the room hurried out as our drunken laughter grew more and more uncontrolled. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, George?” I asked after a while.

“No, can’t be! My idea was silly, I was thinking about wearing nappies instead of rushing to the loo every twenty minutes,” he admitted, laughing.

“Me too! I bet I could wear them longer than you,” I said.

“That’s silly, because it can’t be proven. The girls would never agree,” he scoffed.

“It sounds perfectly reasonable to me! I’ll ask them as soon as we get home,” I foolishly decided.

In my drunken state it sounded perfectly reasonable. It should be fun, and who knows? Heather may even agree to change my nappy… Now that would be fun! We finished our last drinks and caught a taxi to George’s house, where we had left our wives. We stumbled in both still laughing about our silly idea. George slurred that it was a stupid idea, but if the girls agreed - then he would be prepared to stay in nappies far longer than me. “You guys have a good time? It certainly sounds like it?” Asked Melanie, as we opened the door.

“Sure did! Had a little too much to drink, but it was fun,” said George, waggling his fingers at the women.

“I’ll finish my coffee, then we had better be going. You have to work tomorrow,” Heather tartly reminded me.

“Take your time! Anyway, I have something to ask you both. You see, George and I were arguing tonight who has the most staying power. George says that I give up whatever I’m doing after a week or so, and I say that I can still last longer than he does. So anyway, we agreed to have a bet. At first we couldn’t think of what to bet about. Then we both came up with the idea of wearing nappies. Now I know this may sound silly, but if you two agreed, George and I are going to have a contest to see who lasts the longest in nappies,” I giggled drunkenly.

The room went very quiet and even in my inebriated state, I was sure I could hear brains ticking over - and they clearly weren’t George’s or mine. George gave a nervous laugh as though to indicate it was all a bad joke, and I followed his lead by laughing maniacally. But one look at our wives told us that didn’t consider this a joke at all, and our laughter soon dried up. “Hmmm. It’s an interesting idea… I’ll tell you what. Melanie and I will discuss your idea further, and we will all meet at our house on Friday evening around seven, to see what we’ve decided. I think we had better go now. I’ll give you a ring tomorrow morning, Melanie,” Heather replied evenly.

George and I threw one another a worried look. We were more than aware of Heather’s dastardly inventive mind when she had been inspired, and I think we both wished the stupid bet had been forgotten as soon as we left the pub. On the trip home, I tried to get Heather to elaborate on any ideas she had, but she refused to talk about it. I tried backing out, saying that it was all a joke and we weren't serious. She didn’t believe me, and as she parked the car and I struggled out to make a dash for the toilet, she gave a knowing snort of derision. “That may not be a problem for you after Friday, baby,” she observed tartly, then began chuckling.

The rest of the week went by as normal, although I did meet with George on Thursday to find out what was going on his end. “She won’t say anything to me at all! Every time I ask her what is going to happen she clams up so tight, well it scares me,” complained George.

“Me too! Heather refuses to discuss it, and says that I’ll find everything out in due time. She has taken a day off work tomorrow as well, and won’t tell me why or where she is going. Absolutely nothing,” I whined dismally.

“Hey, Mel is taking tomorrow off, as well! I guess they are working on something together. It looks like nappies could soon be us,” frowned George.

“Well I for one don’t fancy that. It was funny down the pub after a few pints, but this is the real sober world - and I'm not happy about this one bit,” I admitted.

“Me neither! Suppose we refuse to take part tomorrow night, and just go out for a drink as usual,” suggested George.

“Nice try, but you know Heather. Do you think she will just sit by and allow me to walk away from this - after all her planning? Come to think of it, what chance have you got with Melanie?” I asked pointedly.

“You’re right! I guess we have no choice other than to see this thing through. As I see it, we can make this thing last as long as we want to. Now just to make it look like we are doing our best, suppose we make it last until Sunday lunchtime - then one of us gives in. I’m not bothered, I’ll give in first, if you like? But that way the contest would be over, and so would our time in nappies,” suggested George.

“Now that is what I call clever thinking, George. I’ll suggest we come over to see you both on Sunday afternoon, where Heather can find out that I have won and it is all over,” I said.

“Brilliant, no problem! This thing will be over before it really started. In future though, we’ll have to agree to leave our bets and other discussions in the pub and never take them home,” I said.

Agreed,” said George holding out his hand to shake.

Friday morning I had another go at Heather. I tried to explain that she shouldn't waste her day off on our silly bet, but should go out and enjoy herself. She listened, smiled politely - but said nothing. Work was a nightmare! I was on Zombie mode, and couldn’t think about anything. I had a bad day making loads of mistakes and getting told off by my boss. Come 5 o’clock I drove home slowly, wondering what was going to happen. I was not looking forward to it one bit. We sat down for dinner, had a glass of wine then I cleared up and we waited for George and Melanie to arrive.

When the doorbell sounded, I felt my heart pounding away. I felt terrified, for some reason. I opened the door and welcomed them into the house. It gave me some comfort not to find them loaded up with parcels, so for one slim minute, I thought we had nothing to worry about. “Hi, pleased you are on time, George,” commented Heather, glancing meaningfully at her watch.

“I didn’t have to wait for Melanie, she was ready before me. She seemed in a bit of a hurry, for some reason,” he replied, evidently concerned.

“So you two, come through. If you boys would like to sit down on the settee, Melanie and I will tell you what we have decided with regards to your bet,” suggested Heather.

“At first I thought it was a stupid idea - typical of the sort of thing that men might think up after they got too drunk to make any sense. However, Heather and I have discussed this quite a bit, and we’ve decided that perhaps there might be some merit in the idea,” said Melanie with a sly smile.

“So, boys - or should I say, babies - we have decided this. We are going to make your dreams come true! For however long it takes, you two can wear nappies. Melanie and I will even change your nappies, every time we think they need changing. Now you two go upstairs to the guest room, and we’ll be up in a minute to pin you in your first nappies,” commanded Heather.

“Look girls, this has gone far enough! We’ve talked about it, and we decided that the bet is called off. Sorry if this has caused you any work, but we did say-” apologised George, but he was rudely cut off.

“Sorry baby, but this is a four-way democracy, and to call it off it will take a majority. Two against two isn’t a majority, so get your bums up those stairs - before Heather and I start to get angry,” warned Melanie with fire in her eyes.

This was clearly not going to plan. It also put our idea of giving up a nasty kick in the shins. I thought perhaps by Sunday they would’ve had their fun, and they might be more approachable. We both hurried up the stairs and shuffled into the guest room. Heather had been hard at work, and I was staggered by what I saw inside. The room had been decorated in a pastel-pink nursery print, with new fluffy musk-pink carpet and also all new furniture. Along one wall stood a large cot, clearly big enough for me to sleep in. There was a huge highchair, a playpen, and loads of nappies and plastic pants piled neatly in one corner. George went over to a wardrobe and hesitantly opened the door, and found it full of oversize baby clothes.

“Hey, this is serious stuff! I'm so sorry, mate! I didn’t expect to get you into this much trouble,” apologised George in concern. “Boy am I pleased that Melanie hasn’t done this for me.”

“Oh, but I have, George! You too, have your very own nursery! It’s all ready for you now, it’s just that you haven’t seen it yet… But you will!” trilled Melanie as she came up behind us.

“Right you two, strip! Everything off, and I do I mean everything. You first in the bathroom, and stand on the sheet of rubber on the floor, and don’t you dare move!” Heather sternly commanded me.

Both George and I have seen each other naked many times before at the gym, so it was hard to explain why this time we should both look so embarrassed. Once in the bathroom, Heather started to shave all my body hair off. She did it very carefully, making sure that she missed nothing. I even had to spread my legs wide apart and bend over to touch my toes, so she could shave my bottom and around my anus. She was very thorough. Now feeling even more naked, I had a shower while George was shaved in the same manner.

“Out of that shower, baby! I need to dry you off, then we can get you dressed and ready for your first evening as a baby,” said Heather with a grim smile. I was dried and led away to the nursery while George was allowed to shower, with Melanie keeping a close eye on his every move. “Lie down on the changing table, please. I have a nice thick nappy all ready for you,” ordered Heather in syrupy toddler talk. Sure enough, there on the bench lay a white terry nappy folded in the shape of a kite with a disposable nappy sitting on top. I got up and lay on the bench and awaited my fate. “Handie-pandies above your head please,” she urged sweetly. I did as she asked, only to be rewarded by having some cuffs clicked round each wrist.

When I reared back, I found they were fastened to the top of the bench by a short chain. She was making sure that I went through with this, even if I changed my mind. I was scared now, I don’t mind admitting it! Every move seemed to have been so clearly planned. They had both taken a lot of trouble over this and obviously spent a sum of money, so this wasn’t likely to be a short-term thing. I meekly lay on the bench as Heather sprinkled baby powder over me, then rubbed it in. It felt wonderful, and I loved the oddly familiar smell. She then very carefully took hold of my frightened little penis and folded it hard back between my legs. Still holding on, she pulled the disposable nappy up tight. My limp penis was now trapped and it felt strange, but not too uncomfortable. She pulled the sides in and taped them to the main panel. She may not have had real babies, but she could put on a mean nappy! It was to get even meaner, as she then pulled the terry one in place and pinned that there with four large nappy pins. I tried to bring my legs together, but the bulk between my thighs thwarted my plans.

“Excellent, baby! You have been well-behaved - so far. Now to get your baby panties on, to prevent any leaks,” she crooned like a loving mother. The baby panties were made from thick pink PVC, and it looked like they had been reinforced with nylon. They were quite tight round my ankles, so you can imagine how tight they were by the time they reached my thighs. Carefully Heather made sure the whole nappy was safely contained inside, then she rolled me over onto my side and I felt the waistband tighten, then heard a click. “Breathe in,” she ordered curtly, and as I did the waistband tightened even more. As I breathed out, I felt the snug waistband cutting into my stomach. “Very good!” she purred in satisfaction. “I have a pretty romper for you to wear, then we can all go downstairs and have a long chat,” she suggested forcefully, unlocking the handcuffs.

The romper was made from blue satin with a large teddy bear on the front, with smocking across the chest and puff sleeves that were elasticised. It was pulled over my head, a couple of buttons were fastened up to the collar behind me, then Heather did up the four poppers along the crotch. “Excellent! Now you toddle downstairs and wait in the living room, while we take care of George,” ordered Heather. To say I was in a state of shock would be putting it too lightly. I wandered - waddled - down the stairs in the thick nappy and the rustling baby panties, and shuffled slowly into the living room. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me! I felt at the back of the pants through the romper, and could feel a small padlock. I had been locked in my nappies with no way out! This just couldn’t be happening to me!

I must have been sitting on the chair for half an hour before I heard George timidly waddle into the room. He was dressed much the same as me, only in a pastel-green romper. Melanie and Heather sat primly together on the settee, and they instructed us to sit on the floor close to their feet. “Right then babies, listen to us very carefully. Your comfort is going to depend upon you remaining in our good books. The rules to this bet are simple. First; it can only be ended when the majority of us agree that it should. Second; you are not permitted to undo your baby clothes or touch your baby panties. Your panties are locked on and we have the keys, and we will use them as and when we see fit.” Her smile was wolfish, and I started to feel frightened.

“You may tell us that your nappy is wet or messy, but only once between each designated change. Third; you can forget about the house toilets. Like me, Melanie has had new locks installed on the bathroom doors, and only we have the keys. You are wearing your toilets from now on. You are to do everything we say immediately - any arguing or back-talk will be dealt with severely. As you might have guessed, from now on you are both going to be in nappies and baby panties 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with no breaks. The only times you will be allowed out will be at bath time and when we are changing you, and during those times you will be placed in handcuffs to make sure you give us no trouble.

As from tomorrow, you will find that your credit cards are no longer accepted, and that only Melanie and I are able to draw money out of the bank accounts. You will be both given an allowance every week, and will be allowed to ask for an increase - if you have a special reason for it. Both of you can come and go as you please, go out for a drink when you want, go to the football, or whatever - providing you have the money. Now then, any questions?” Asked Heather, gazing at our stunned faces.

“How long is this going on for?” Asked George, his face aghast.

“Who knows, baby? Until we have a majority who want it to end, I guess,” decided Melanie.

“What are we going to wear for work? We won’t fit in our clothes with these nappies on?” I plaintively asked.

“Don’t worry! We've taken steps to ensure you have clothes that will fit you, all ready for you on Monday morning.”

“How are we going to survive all day in nappies? We’ll leak long before we leave work?” I objected.

“Simple baby, drink less! And if necessary, give one of us a ring and we’ll arrange to change you somewhere,” said Melanie with a grin.

“What’s with the cot and all the baby stuff? We never agreed to that in our bet?” complained George.

“No you didn’t, baby. But then there are going to be many times in the future when baby is both wet and messy, and neither of us have any desire to sleep with a wet and stinky big baby. The highchair and playpen are items that we felt would help you to better remember your lowly position, and behave accordingly,” said Heather.

George looked at me, I could tell he was hating this every bit as much as I. But he too felt powerless to stop it from happening. That night I wet my first nappy for many years. Heather refused to change me, and so I went to bed in the cot wearing a pink nightie, mittens and a bonnet, cuddling a teddy for the first time since my infancy. When morning came I was to discover that a wet nappy is a very uncomfortable nappy, and I wanted a change fast. I also found out that the cot side couldn’t be undone, as it required a key of some sort to unlock it.

It was past 9.30 before the nursery door opened and Heather walked in. By this time I was fed up with lying in wet nappies, I had tried most everything to rip them off, without any success at all. She smiled victoriously as she strode towards the high barred cot, inserted keys at each end, then lowered the side. “I think breakfast first. Then if you are a good baby, I’ll change your wet nappy for you,” she informed me.

“Heather please take these nappies off me? They are wet, and very uncomfortable. I think I’ve had more than enough of nappies already,” I whined.

“Sorry, baby. You’ll soon become used to the feel of both wet and messy nappies before we are through! Now please climb in your highchair so I can feed you,” she politely commanded. The next hour can only be described as utter misery. The seat was hard, the food awful, and Heather could tease for England.

After breakfast I had to lie on the changing table and submit to having my wrists cuffed together and locked to the top of the table, before she produced the key to my pants from another room. The change was awful, and she teased me without mercy. Then after adding metal cuffs to my ankles, she released the chain that held my wrist cuffs to the table and helped me hobble to the shower. I was in no position to resist when we returned to the nursery again. I lay on my next set of nappies and watched as I was imprisoned in them with a fresh pair of plastic baby panties. After the chains had been removed, Heather said that she would like to go out in the car today. Once more I begged to be allowed out of the nappies, but this only seemed to anger her. I wore a white onesie and a pair of shorts when I stumbled outside. I was very conscious of my nappies and the loud crackling noises from my plastic panties every time I moved. By the time we returned home, my nappy was wet and uncomfortable again, so I plaintively asked to be changed.

“Not yet, baby. I’ll change you later, when I have more time,” she replied evasively. As the afternoon turned to evening, so my condition - or that of my nappies - became even worse.. But I knew I was not allowed to ask for another change. I was sure that they would begin to leak at any moment, and to make matters worse, I could feel warning signals that my bowels would need to be emptied soon. Wetting nappies was one thing, but messing them was something else! I held back as long as I could, but I was becoming desperate. Still there was no sign of a nappy change, so I decided to take a chance and remind her of my condition. “Heather, I think I will start to leak if I’m not changed now,” I pleaded. She looked at her watch and then sighed. “All right then, up to the nursery. Fasten your hands in the handcuffs for me, and I’ll be up in a minute,” she promised.

I hurried upstairs and submissively lay on the bench, then chained my hands in the cuffs. “Good baby! Now let’s get your bottom sorted out,” she said with a tight smile that never reached her glowing green eyes. Once she had removed my filthy nappy, she washed me thoroughly and then powdered me, and put a fresh nappy tightly in place. Heather had just finished locking the baby panties over the terry when I felt another rumbling reminder from my bowels.

“Heather, I was wondering if I could use the toilet? You see, I need to do poos quite badly,” I pleaded like a helpless pre-schooler.

“Certainly not! You know the rules, baby,” she frowned in warning.

“But you can’t make me mess myself,” I whined.

“True, I’m not making you do anything! I’m simply refusing to remove that lock on your baby panties. The rest is up to you,” she reasoned.

“Oh this is ridiculous! If you won’t undo these things, I’ll cut them off,” I retorted angrily. Heather smiled, but it was a cold smile that was full of confidence.

“You really are so stupid! You never think anything through, do you?” she asked with a derisive sneer.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, first this nappy business. You never even wondered why we both agreed to it, did you? It has never even entered your tiny mind. It’s certainly not because you come home with some drunken idea of a bet, that's for certain! Now you want to cut the pants and nappies off yourself, but what would that achieve?” she asked pointedly.

“It will free me of these things and I’ll be able to return to wearing my pants,” I bleakly replied.

“Go right ahead! It will do you no good, you know. It will only lead you from one problem to a much worse problem,” she cautioned.

“What do you mean?”

“Think it through, silly baby! Firstly you won’t be able to cut through that chain very easily, and

certainly not with the scissors. The lock is hardened, so it can’t be cut. Cutting a chain that's so tight against your skin won’t be easy, and it will be dangerous. Second; once you’ve cut the pants off, what will you wear? I have thrown away all your underpants, and your clean nappies and baby panties are safely locked away in the nursery. Next, please consider where you are going to go to do that poo? It certainly won’t be in my toilet! Mine is locked, and you can’t have the key. The nearest one is about 3 miles away in the Market Square, unless they close it during the evenings. I would say if you cut those pants off, you are in big trouble, because before I agree to pin a fresh nappy on you, I will take great pleasure in turning that wicked little bottom of yours bright red,” she threatened.

She was right and I knew it. There wasn’t a thing I could do. I got off the bench and allowed her to put me in my nightdress, mittens and bonnet, before I meekly waddled over to the cot and lay down. “It’s been a big day for you today baby, and an even bigger day tomorrow when you go to work. You try and get some sleep, as we’ll both have to be up a bit earlier tomorrow so we can sort that naughty bottom of yours out before you leave,” she said.

I watched as she snapped the ankle cuff round my left ankle and then locked the other end round the corner of the cot. The side was raised, and she fed me a drink from a bottle through the bars before turning off the light. I held back as long as I could, but in the end nature had its way. I had no choice other than to dump a big load in my nappy. It felt disgusting and smelled even worse! It was still dark, so I knew I had a long night ahead of me, wishing I had done this mess just before my last nappy was changed. I was learning the hard way.

I won’t go into the morning nappy change, it is too humiliating to talk about. Heather even refused to remove my stinky nappy until I had eaten all my breakfast. Sitting on that hard wooden seat in a messy nappy is not a good way to start the day! So the routine was set. Heather bought me some new trousers to wear over my nappies, but even they couldn’t hide them. I looked like I’d suddenly put on about 6 inches round the hips! As the week went on, so my frustration of not being able to even get an erection locked inside these nappies grew worse. Heather played with me sometimes, but never allowed me any release from the building frustration. Come the weekend I was so miserable, I decided that when we met up with George and Melanie, I would try and see if they would allow George and me to go out on our own for a drink.

We met round George’s house, both of us still locked in our nappies and both hating every minute. “Say, how about me and George go out for a drink and let you two ladies alone for the evening?” I suggested.

“Fine by us. Here take this to pay for your drinks - and I want the change,” Heather replied with a cunning smile. Melanie went to her purse and gave George some money, and together we left the house with lots to talk about. We sat in the pub, but not our usual bar, as we didn’t want to be recognised. We had half pint glasses in front of us and were sipping our beer, as we were afraid to drink too much for fear of flooding our nappies. Neither of us talked very much, we compared what had happened and discovered that we had both received much the same. We had both tried to escape from the locked pants, and failed. We both had threatened to cut them off, but didn’t. Both suffered strange looks from colleagues at work, and both wanted this nightmare to end.

It was early when we got back. We were both wet, but it was all contained inside the tight plastic panties. “You’re home early. Beer not very good tonight?” asked Melanie.

“It was all right, but we had to limit ourselves because of these nappies,” complained George.

“Never mind. I’ll make sure you have two extra bottles when you get home, baby,” laughed

Heather.

“This is not funny. We've both had enough of this stupid game, and we want out,” I snapped.

Heather stopped laughing and looked angry, and I wondered what she would do. “You are right! Only this isn’t a game - this is for real. It will stay that way until Melanie and I are both satisfied that you have learned your lesson. Tell me either of you, have you worked out why we agreed to this stupid idea in the first place?” she asked. George and I looked at one another, I shrugged my shoulders and George shook his head. “Let me give you a few clues then. This is the first week I haven’t had to put the toilet seat down, or clean puddles of your wee from round the bowl where you missed. This is the first time for ages that you both have returned home from the pub in a reasonable state. All week I have slept so much better without you falling out to empty your overfilled bladder six times a night. I could go on, but hopefully you get my drift,” said Heather.

“You’re even worse, George! You have no idea how close you came to divorce. You act like a baby, sulk when you don’t get your own way, and treat me like a servant who cooks and cleans for you. Every night when you came home, you threw your clothes on the floor and left me to pick them up. You never did any housework, never offered to help in the garden and left me to do all the shopping. Before those nappies are removed, both Heather and I need to see an enormous improvement in your outlook and behaviour,” warned Melanie.

So there you have it. We are still in training and in thick nappies. We both still hate them, but know that there can be no escape until we are the perfect househusbands, and I fear that day might be a long way off.

The end

I hope you enjoyed that, and if anyone knows the name of the author, could they please post it here, too?

Thanks from Baby Jennie in Australia

[ppbenn]

That was a great find thanks babyjennie. First time I read it. However if I come across the author I will post it.