Music Man

[NewdudeDL]

I own none of the bands, songs or brands mentioned in any parts of this story. All characters and events are a work of fiction etc.

I believe there are few enough things which connect us as human beings. For one, we're all human. We all have hopes, dreams, aspirations. But one of the little talked about things that connects us with one another, is that we all keep secrets. "I stole a pack of gum when I was ten," or "I lied to my parents about a score on a math test," are some of the things people will share when you trade secrets. Those aren't real secrets.

When I say secrets, I mean deep down inside of each one of us, there are some things that we wish and hope and pray we could lock away forever in a mental safe, never to be seen again by us or anyone else. But we all know that this safe cannot be closed. Or at least, it cannot be locked.

My safe has a few items in it. Embarrassing moments that I still remember vividly, things I did I was not proud of, and missed opportunities that I am too ashamed to recount. But the most jarring thing in my safe, is something intensely and inherently emotional. To lock it away, I would have made a prime-time presentation of all the other items within.

Now I know that secrets are the things which preserve us as humans. The idea that we can hide something from others, even if it hurts us to do so, gives us some semblance of safety and control.

Just beware the secrets that can ruin you. We all have at least one. If you need me to spell out mine for you, in big bold letters for all the world to see, those letters would spell D-I-A-P-E-R-S. Things changed dramatically for me in the course of a year. I thought my safe locked and closed so tightly that I almost didn't realize I had this secret. But I did.

So here I sit in studio number four on the night shift. I'm running the equipment alone, playing the music for all the other midnight shifts out there. The custodian is long gone and the one security guard we have is probably looking at pornography on his laptop rather than the security feed. I am, for all intents and purposes, alone for the next eight hours.

To my left is a 9mm pistol with one round locked and loaded in the chamber.

To my right is a cellular phone, with a single phone number plugged in and ready to dial.

And in between the two, I write this. If I choose the left, I feel it necessary to at least leave my side of the story, an explanation for friends and family. And if I choose right, then... I don't know what will happen to this notebook. But I'm not exactly looking towards the far future right now.

So here's how I reached this point.

Where There's Smoke

There were three of us in the University Student Center on October the thirty-first. Me, Josh, and the Rookie, a Freshman whose name I still was having trouble remembering. The three of us were all involved in different majors at the university. Josh was going into nursing, I think the rookie was a History major, and I was in Communications.

The three of us were connected by our student organization, the college radio station. We were a moderate sized group on campus, with about forty active participants. The three of us had volunteered to help set up the Halloween dance on campus. More accurately, they were appointed to set it up by our organization president, and I would be DJing.

It didn't help that none of us knew how to set up our outdated amps and turntables.

"Rookie, you smell smoke?" I asked. My nose was detecting that burning smell. The one that everyone thinks they smell when they fiddle with electronics they have no idea how to use.

"I think I smell something," Josh said, sticking his nose closer to the cluster of wires near the wall.

"Rook, go get an extinguisher." I hopped off the DJ platform and yanked our surge protectors from the electrical sockets. The rookie took off like a bat out of hell. If there was going to be a fire on campus, he didn't want to be implicated in its cause. A smart kid, that one. He'll probably get far in life.

I started checking all the wires for anything that looked funny; cracks or exposed metal. When Josh and I didn't find any, the rookie was back with the extinguisher and an unwelcome guest.

Janet Macken, the president of the Student Union, was standing right behind him. And she looked none too pleased.

"I wanted professionals to do this," she said. She sounded a little more than ticked and a little less than pissed, probably grateful that there was no fire.

I'm an even six-feet tall, 21 years old, and probably weighed twice as much as her. I had to look down a little to meet her eyes, but when I opened my mouth to talk to her I chose my words carefully. I knew the clout she had with the student groups; if we pushed the wrong buttons around her, she'd pull the funding for the radio station in a heartbeat and be glad of it. We were eating into the student budget with all of our equipment needs, an easy five thousand dollars a year, if not more.

"We're really sorry," I said, and meaning every word of it. "It's just, Dan had a funeral to go to this weekend and we volunteered to do this in his place. I know he's the guy who usually does the DJ-ing, but we couldn't ask him to put off his own grandmother's funeral for a Halloween dance."

"You know what this dance is really for?" Janet asked, crossing her arms. Bad sign. Baaaad sign.

"We're to promote safe, responsible behavior during the holiday, and discourage underage and binge drinking of any sort." I thanked God I read the email advertisement for the dance.

"What he said," Josh piped in.

"Good. Because I'd hate to have five-hundred students show up here, then leave to go get plastered, and finally go driving and plow into someone on the road all because our DJ doesn't know how to work his equipment. How much did I money di I give you for those amps? Two- hundred dollars each? Did you even read the manual for them?"

No, your highness. There was no manual. We actually bought the pair for fifty bucks on ebay. Used, of course. But thanks for paying so much attention to our equipment needs.

And besides, everyone who came here WAS going to leave and get plastered. They just weren't inviting YOU.

"We'll have no problems, trust me," Josh said. "I've got the whole playlist you requested lined up and ready for Alex." That's me by the way. "We're just having one or two technical problems. If you like, we can keep the fire extinguisher behind the stage just in case."

Smooth one Josh. Implying that something might go wrong when I'm trying to tell her it won't. Real smooth.

"Yeah," Janet said. "You do that." She walked off towards the food and drinks table, generously provided by the Christians on Campus group. They had half the budget and five times the membership of our little organization, and to give them credit they deserved much more funding for their size. They were going to give away pizza, subs and soda tonight. It takes some serious clout to give that kind of food away for free on a college campus, and here we were with two amps bought off of the internet with our own money raised from a bake sale.

We knew where Janet's loyalties lay.

Josh and I finished the setup without further difficulties, though we gave the rookie a talking to about bringing Janet's attention to us.

"I didn't mean to," the guy said defensively. And Einstein didn't mean to help make The Bomb either rookie. The road to hell is paved with accidents.

Josh left at about 6 to go spend the evening with his girlfriend. I was to DJ alone for the night. As far as costumes go, mine was cheap yet functional: a simple black mask that went around my eyes, like the kind you see superheroes in cheap comic books wearing. You know, where everyone can't guess their secret identity because they have an inch of black material around their eyes.

The party began at 8 officially, but didn't take off until 9ish. That was when the frats showed up.

Campus had two rival fraternities, and the antics they pulled at events like this were legendary. At nine o'clock, a hundred frat members walked into the room. Fifty were dressed as matching ninjas of various sizes, and fifty were dressed as pirates. Some managed to make large cardboard peg-leg. A whole sorority showed up dressed as nurses, and not the kind you see in hospitals today mind you.

I distinctly remembered this moment when the frats and sororities arrived not because of how their costumes looked, but because of who walked in right after they did.

Three girls followed these huge crowds. One of them was Ashley Ruvoli. She was the textbook definition of the rich airhead, but not drop-dead gorgeous in my opinion; maybe a 7 or 8 out of 10. I hate assigning numbered scores to beauty, but in her case I'll make an exception. You see, her family was loaded with a capital L. Ashley quickly picked up the nickname of Don Ruvoli in some circles on campus. She was always happy to give favors and loans to anyone who asked her. Do you know any single girls looking for a date? I've run out of grocery money for the week and my parents are strapped because my dad lost his job. Do you know someone who can get me tickets to this concert? All were fair game to request, but the payback was a bitch. And it usually came in a form that made Ashley look good at the expense of whoever was paying her back.

Unfortunately for her two "friends" Ashley had called to collect favors owed, judging by their costumes. One girl was a tall blonde who I remembered from my basic algebra class two years back, though my trouble at remembering names still prevents me from recalling hers. The other girl was shorter and much more round, with brown hair.

Both were dressed as oversized babies, wearing huge diapers judging by the way the girls waddled into the room, bright pink onesies, bonnets, pacifiers, bibs, and even those little leashes that parents attach to the hand of a toddler to keep them in sight. Meanwhile Ashley was a sexy looking "sitter," getting plenty of attention from the guys in the room while her two "friends" were either being stared at or outright teased.

The moment of their entry is frozen in my memory, because this is where this chain of events started that led me here. I remember all four or five-hundred people crammed into the room. The smell of hot pizza. My mouth was still moist from a drink I had taken from my water bottle. And when I saw those two girls, time seemed to stop.

It was at this point that my safe, which I had thought closed and locked for the past seven years came swinging open. As time returned to a normal speed, my first thought wasn't one of pity for the two seniors like it should have been.

My first thought was: I want to trade costumes, right now.

A note from the author.

So I started this story with no intention of having it turn into a diaper story. But the other day, I read a creative writing prompt "Write a story you swore you would never try to write." So I guess this qualifies. I look at this story primarily as a work of fiction with secondary elements of AB/DL in it. Nor do I expect it to cross fully into the realm of fantasy. But I'm sure it will cross that fantasy line somewhere, and the reality will make the fantasy much more believable. The ending, as you can tell from the prologue, is still up in the air. I hope you all enjoy it, and I'm sorry I didn't write more. I prefer to write shorter chapters. Please leave comments, critiques and any other suggestions you want.

[BoTox]

Bravo! Very interesting concept and it was as if I could see the girls entering the room. The opening was great, limbo!

I look forward to a continuation.

[Fulldiaper]

Botox,

As usual, you have me captivated and waiting with baited breath for the next installment. I still know if the character is male or female

Fulldiaper Michael

[BoTox]

Botox,

As usual, you have me captivated and waiting with baited breath for the next installment. I still know if the character is male or female

Fulldiaper Michael

You have the wrong guy! It isn't mine but I love it just the same!

[NewdudeDL]

My sincerest thanks for the praise , and also my apologies for the confusion. Alex is indeed male.

I'm not sure how soon the next chapter will be, but most definitely within the next week, and I'll try make it a lengthy update at that. But again, I must emphasize the fact that this is a fiction piece with a character who happens to be AB/DL. I'll probably throw in some "fantasy" stuff later, but it will hardly dominate the story.

[Pollyanna Fleshman]

I'm so glad you will continue this. I enjoyed it.

[NewdudeDL]

Things That Were

As soon as I had this thought, this overpowering desire to trade costumes, I nearly fell on my own feet. It had been seven years since this desire had last shown its ugly face. Seven long, peaceful, fruitful and relatively pleasant years. I had graduated High School with honors, the first person in my family to do so, made the Dean's list in college. Most importantly, I had attained a position of seniority in both my high school and college radio stations DJing wasn't an extra-curricular activity for me. It was my career goal.

And I had made all of this progress only after moving beyond these freakish desires.

I needed to get a lid on this now, before I fell into my old high school routine of mentally beating myself up every day.

First thing was first, I needed time to breathe and three-minute dance tunes wouldn't give me that time. I put a copy of Stairway to Heaven on the turntable. It wasn't on Janet's list, but seven minutes of the best rock and roll band on earth never killed anyone.

Janet noticed this new song immediately and came right over to the stage. She had changed into a witch costume before the party started, but she was still as angry as before.

“This song wasn't on my playlist,

[storey]

Wow! Great story!! Can't wait for more

[NewdudeDL]

Remember, Remember

It was a month and a half later that I had this really weird dream. I use weird as a relative term because I think all dreams are weird. But this one stands out to me because I remember it so well.

I found myself sitting on a stool, wearing my usual collared shirt, dark blue jeans and scuffed up brown shoes. The room or space I was in was completely dark except for a small light around me from overhead, too high for me to see where it came from and too bright for me to want to take a second look.

Suddenly a second light was turned on farther ahead of me. I could see my DJ station all set up, with perfect working amps, a brand new turntable and a great control board. I started to stand up, but then I looked down. The floor was gone, replaced by a balance beam, and I'm scared shitless of falling.

Then I heard music playing from the station. Behind it was that punk ninja from the party. He's put a record on, “Radio Ga Ga

[BoTox]

Excellent! Very believable and I like this story.

[NewdudeDL]

Family Fun

“And that's when I decided to get a mortgage on my second house.

[NewdudeDL]

Things Get moving

“So faithful listeners, tonight I want to try something different from our regular format. I have a moral question for you all, not rhetorical. I earnestly want your opinions and answers. Childhood dreams, the things you've always wanted to do deep down inside you. The dreams you carry with you to this day. Are they worth pursuing, or are they really just dreams to entertain you while you're slaving away in the cubicle? Call in with your answers throughout the show, and Sarah and I will be happy to put you on the air.

[pax87]

I really like this story! It's very different from the set up most other stories have. Keep up the awesome writing! I totally get you when you say how you feel more confident in writing!

[NewdudeDL]

"One-one-thousand! Two-one-thousand!" The doctor pumps once, twice, three times, then opens the mouth to breath inside. The steady, ear piercing ring of a heart monitor permeating the background. The night is dark, the rain outside battering against the hospital window. The nurse was fiercely looking at medical records, trying to find the cause for this sudden happening.

"... Been in a coma for almost a year. No sign of life at all! No relatives."

"No activity either? No brainwave functions?"

"Nothing Doctor."

"Alright, prep 5 ccs of Exposit-on and-"

"It won't work, Doctor John."

Both Dr. John and the nurse turned to see the new resident of the Archive Heart Hospital, Dr. Napps. The blonde-haired, blue eyed, busty doctor threw herself into the chaotic mess as she elbowed her way over the patient's bedside. She turned to the nurse with a glare in her eye and nodded to a needle that rested in a red box on the wall.

"100 ccs of Deus ex Machina! On the double!"

"You're mad! That'll kill-"

The nurse didn't hesitate like Dr. John and smashed the glass box open, rather than simply opening the tiny door. She removed a pair of needles that would give a horse pause. Dr. Napps took one while the nurse handled the other, Dr. Johns backing away for fear of being sued for malpractice if this went wrong. The two women counted down together from 3... 2... 1...

And the heart monitor started back up, the story opening its eyes after a year in limbo.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Calling Dr. Freud

Sarah and I were a little busy for the next week, and we didn't get the "quality time" to address my problems for a while. Of course, this meant I had to sweat things out while we kept at school and she started up a job part time at a video store. I would have loved that kind of work, but I took what I could get with volunteering at the station.

So that next Wednesday night, I found myself walking up the stairs in the gym of the university with her. I kept my mouth shut up til the fourth floor about this 'Acceptance Party' she hung over my head. Maybe she was excited, but I wasn't. I'm pretty sure anyone would be in my position.

"So... so what's going to happen?" If we walked into a room with people dressed like babies and a cake- it better be a fuckin' awesome cake or we'd be done.

Sarah just giggled and stopped on the fifth floor, then started walking down a row of classroom doors. I had to follow her, but hated when she played coy with these things. Nobody likes mystery when it's about your deep dark secrets.

She stopped outside a classroom with half its lights on and an open door. People were talking inside. I stepped up and peaked my head in to take a look. No cake. But no party either. There were two old ladies dressed in gym pants with rolled up Yoga mats. And they were talking to a guy in his thirties, similar loose clothing, and this very quiet air about him. The ladies were definitely too old to be cougars, so I went the obvious route to think these people were all in a yoga class.

"I didn't know stretching could alter the brain."

Sarah smiled and shook her head. "No, but this guy Dave knows a lot of stuff. He's helped me with other problems before. What he does, it's really cool."

I wanted to ask more, but the little old ladies walked out laughing and chatting. Though as I watched them, I noticed the short ash-haired woman raised her arms and, well, I'll give you one guess as to what she was wearing underneath her track pants.

I bit my cheek and walked inside before I let the thought bother me any more. Sarah followed behind me and waved to Dave. His face had a passive happiness to it, his faint facial hair full waving while his lips pursed into a grin while his black curly hair was combed to the side as best he could.

"Well Sarah! Wonderful to see you again! And this is Alex?"

I shook his hand and nodded, but Sarah didn't want to make too much small talk apparently.

"Yeah, this is him," she said, giving Dave a friendly hug. "But I wanted to see if you could work up a 'Three Way' with him real quick? We talked about some serious things and I asked him to trust me to bring you here."

Not really. I was promised a party with cake! But more importantly- "Wait a minute? Three way?" We'd had some fun in the past few weeks, but this was new!

"Not what you're thinking," Dave said. "But it's a neat psychological trick I came up with while on hiatus in India. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, well, I haven't had anybody go on shooting sprees because of it."

I told him I was up for it. Hell, it was cheaper than going to a therapist. So about two minutes later, Sarah excused herself from the room and I was sitting cross legged on a Yoga mat.

"It's cool if you don't believe in hypnosis," Dave said from out of the blue, pulling a really old looking coin out of his shirt, attached to a string. He started dangling it in front of my face like a cheap hypnotist in a 50s movie. Still, I tried to focus on the coin, trying to decipher the images on the coin. I think one was an elephant. Or maybe it was a tiger. And the other side- I couldn't figure it out. The more I focused on it the more I thought it was-

"Goddamn coins Gotta fuck things up!"

I blinked awake, unfocused on the coin dangling in front of me, still spinning, to look to my left. It was... it was me. Me, in an expensive suit jacket, tie, and collared shirt. I was smoking a cigarette with a bottle of scotch in hand, sunglasses tilted over my brow. And I did not look happy.

"Great. Suppose we need to talk."

"And you are?"

I smiled at myself. "Id. Or rather, part of the Id. He's another part."

I pointed behind my shoulder, then looked to follow the gesture. On my other side was a toddler. Or baby. Or someone caught in between. But the baby definitely had my features, dressed in a pale blue onesie with a pillow-sized diaper stuffed between his legs and a pacifier in his mouth. So, this was an interesting occurrence. And how much was I saying in front of Dave?

"Nothing. This is all in your head, pussy. Now let's hurry so we can focus on what we need."

"And what do we need?"

"To get rid of that kid! You think you're going to have a decent career if you're so torn up about wanting to pee your pants? Fuck that! Now hurry up and say you don't want it. We can get through this and get you properly motivated for life after school."

I scratched my face, but knew where this was going. Id wants me to repress other half of Id. I've taken Psych 101, so I knew one thing for sure. The more you repress the Id, the worse things get. If asshole wants me to give up on baby, I'll go with baby.

"No. No, that's cool. I'll stick with the kid."

I scowled at myself and flung my cigarette at the wall, though it didn't hit anything. It simply wasn't there any more. Mind games are just freaking awesome sometimes. But when they're brought to you by and asshole like this, I'd pass.

"Fine. But we'll see where it gets you."

And snap. The coin sitting on the floor between me and Dave. Sarah was in the room, standing to the side quietly.

"So did you see yourself, or rainbows and unicorns," Dave asked, collecting his gold coin before I could see what was on it.

"Myself," I said without volunteering any more. But Sarah seemed to catch on to what that meant. And I stood up as she walked to my side, then gave her a hug. I didn't say how I felt there was this huge weight lifted off my shoulders, how I could suddenly see that I was stressing over something that I shouldn't have been. That I was... I was normal.

"Let's go back to my place," Sarah said after I gave Dave a very grateful man-hug. "I have a surprise for you."

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Author's note: Yeah, it's been more than a year, but I'm hitting the restart button on this story now that I have the time. I apologize for the shoddy nature of this installment, but I'm getting on proper footing for where I'm taking this tale next.

[diaperpt]

Wow! I don't remember having seen this story before. I'm so glad you are working on it again.

Great concept, excellent writing and very interesting story line!

You've got me hooked!