Dwi

[diaperpt]

This is a story I wrote quite a while ago and just recently edited and revised. I know most of you don't particularly like my stories, but I'll put it out there for those who might.

DWI

Chapter 1

Paul Edwards had just arrived home from work. His wife wasn't due home for another hour and a half and he would take this opportunity to mix himself a drink and relax with the newspaper before she arrived. He thought to himself that he probably should avoid the drink, since he'd recently been arrested for a second DWI and was scheduled for a court appearance in a week. He was stressed from work though, and decided to have just one double anyway.

It wasn't his fault that he'd been pulled over this last time; he'd gotten caught in a random spot check. He was sure he wasn't drunk either, in spite of the police report. His boss and coworkers made his job more difficult than it should be and although he loved his wife Evelyn, she just didn't understand him. The police and courts were just out to get people like him. None of this was fair.

He'd just taken the cap off the bottle of bourbon when the door bell rang. Few people ever came to the door at this time of day and he wondered who it could possibly be. If he'd been more aware as he'd driven down his street, he might have noticed the police cruiser and ambulance pull up to the curb in front of his house as the drove into his garage and signaled the automatic garage door to slide shut.

He put the bottle down on the bar of the den and went into the foyer to open the door. He was stunned to see a police officer and two women in medical dress each with a large bag of gear. "Hello, can I help you, Officer?"

"Are you Paul Edwards?" was the reply.

"Yes I am. What's going on?" Paul asked.

The officer calmly asked, "Mr. Edwards, may we step in and explain? You might prefer we not make a scene out here."

"I don't understand. Is there some problem? Is it my wife...," Paul searched for an explanation.

The three pushed past Paul into the foyer and the women set down their gear. "Mr. Edwards, these two women are from the Hastings Institute and they have involuntary short-term committal papers for you. They are here to bring you to the institute for examination and possible treatment. The papers were initiated through your wife and your lawyer as a result of your multiple DWI arrests."

Paul's jaw dropped as he heard these words. "But, I knew nothing about this. You can't do this without my permission and I won't go! What about my rights? My wife can't just have me put into some hospital!"

The Officer answered, "The commitment papers show her as having medical power of attorney. You must have given her that power at some point. I wouldn't be here if the paperwork weren't perfectly legal and proper."

Paul's heart sank as he remembered the minor day surgery he'd had two years before and the advice he'd followed in filling out advanced directives even for such a small procedure. As part of this, he'd signed over full medical power of attorney to his wife so that she could make decisions even over his own wishes.

This had been done because the effects of the medications for that operation would make him seem lucid even though he wasn't. The plan was to revoke this after his recovery, but he'd forgotten about it and what seemed like a reasonable thing then was scaring him now.

"But she had power of attorney for a surgery over two years ago. It must have expired by now. It wasn't intended for this sort of thing. This just isn’t right!"

"Sir, the power of attorney is legal unless signed over by the custodian. It may have been issued for a particular surgery, but I can assure you your wife has full legal medical power of attorney."

The Officer paused then added, "Don't worry, Mr. Edwards. I can't say I like the idea of this, but I can tell you it’s becoming a frequent legal strategy to get someone off the hook for DWI. You check into this clinic - which will probably turn out to be a real Club Med - and you'll be declared to have a drinking problem. You receive some bogus 'treatment,' evidence of which will be sent to the court in lieu of your scheduled appearance and within a few weeks you'll be back here pouring yourself a drink just like the one I can see you started for yourself in there. I'm sorry, but people like you make me sick!"

He pointed to the bar in the den. "I've been to too many accident scenes caused by drunks like you!"

Paul was a little embarrassed that he'd been discovered as he was about to have a drink and so he offered no defense. He was also a little relieved to hear that this committal might actually work to his advantaged, but still a little concerned that his wife and lawyer hadn't mentioned anything about this. Why hadn't his wife Evelyn let him in on this?

Even as he collected his thoughts, one of the women bent over her bag and began to open it as the other reached for the papers held out by the policeman. She signed a form and handed it back to the officer and said, "Thanks Officer. We can handle everything from here."

The policeman looked at Paul and said "Good luck - wouldn't it be great if you really got the treatment you deserve?!"

He strode out through the door, which was quickly closed by one of the woman.

She then turned to Paul and said, "What he said is basically true. Our DWI section, we think, is quite comfortable and we will enable you to avoid court and any record, other than the actual arrest. The officer was correct also in that we do offer a treatment program which we do sugar-coat for the benefit of the courts."

She smiled and winked at me as she said, "Of course, you'll find out it has actually little to do with the nasty treatment alcoholics usually get. We think you'll find it quite interesting!"

Paul started thinking maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all! It was beginning to sound like Evelyn had actually arranged a cozy vacation for him and at the same time keeping him out of trouble with the court system.

The other woman smiled and added, "We do have certain protocol to follow, however, and we apologize for any discomfort or inconvenience. Please cooperate fully, because even though we may not look it, we can easily force you to do what is required. Make it as pleasant for yourself as possible and we'll soon be on our way to your 'Club Med' as the officer put it. I'm sure you'll find our DWI unit to be just what you need."

Paul began to relax until he realized that what she was pulling out of her bag was a straight jacket. "No! You aren't going to put me in that!" he said as he started backing away from the pair.

"Relax Paul. This is just for show. It's protocol. Don't worry," said the woman. "We'll leave it loose. It's just that if we don't bring you in the right way, WE get in trouble. We're just working people doing our job. Really. Take off your tie and your dress shirt so you'll be more comfortable and we'll just slip on the jacket."

Her quiet tone and pretty smile calmed him and he cautiously did as he was asked, laying the jacket and tie over the back of a chair and leaving on his undershirt. He held out his arms as they slipped the straightjacket on. Soon he felt buckles brought together loosely at his back. The long sleeves of the jacket were drawn around to the back and again he sensed a loose fastening. "Now, we're just going to lie you down here on the floor for a moment, so we can finish."

Now Paul was confused. "What? What are you going to do? I thought this was it. I agreed to let you put this straight jacket on me - not anything else. Isn't this enough? I'm cooperating; I won't cause you any problems," Paul pled, not knowing at all what was coming but feeling very uneasy.

"Paul, Paul. Relax. I told you, its protocol. We don't have any choice. It'll be fine. You really are cooperating well."

Her voice was so soft and sweet and she smiled so seductively, it calmed his nerves and in spite of his fears, he allowed them to help him into a sitting position and then rock down onto his back. He remained calm as the woman untied and removed his shoes, then his socks. When she reached up to undo his belt, all his anxiety returned.

"Stop! What are you doing? Leave my pants alone! Who do you think you are? That's it. I won't have any more to do with this. Let me out of this and leave! NOW!!" Paul screamed.

He began squirming and writhing on the floor, but the two were far more than a match for him. "Oh, Paul. You said you were going be a good boy for us. Too bad. Well, I'm afraid it’s too late for any objection - as if you could have ever done anything about this anyway!"

She still spoke in a soft, seductive tone, but the two now easily rolled him over onto his stomach and pulled the loose belts of the straight jacket tight. The jacket now pulled firmly against his body and his arms were pulled tightly back around him. They then firmly, but gently spun him back onto his back and quickly stripped him of both his pants and his boxers. Now as he lay there naked from the waist down, he began turning red from embarrassment as well as from screaming out unheeded protests.

The worst was yet to come, though, as he soon saw a huge pile of cloth pulled out of one of the bags. His bottom was forced up to allow the cloths to be slid beneath him and before he could even imagine what was happening, the long cloths were being drawn up between his legs. They were soon pulled expertly tight and were being pinned back to front by two large pins on each side. His screams continued, but the women carried on as if they heard nothing and had a completely cooperative subject. They'd obviously done this more than once in the past! The cloths felt soft against his bare skin, but the bulk forced his legs apart in a very unnatural way.

Paul was screaming so much and struggling against the two so much that he didn't notice when large side-snap clear plastic pants were taken from one of the bags, shaken out and placed under the waiting cloths encasing his bottom. Soon the sides were snapped up and Paul felt the gentle bite of the elastic legs and waist against his bare skin. Where stray pieces of the soft cloth had stuck out, they had been quickly, but carefully tucked inside the protective panties. Neither did Paul notice when something else was taken from the bag, until he saw a large bulb approaching his mouth. Plop, in it went forcing down his tongue and completely filling his mouth. "Ubbbbmmmm" was all that could be heard; noise from the very back of his throat.

"There," one of the women said as she tightened the strap holding the gag in place. "We've heard more than enough from you! Besides, you'd only be embarrassed more if we take you out screaming like that!"

The woman sat astride Paul and while he could flail his legs and twist his torso, the straight-jacket prevented any meaningful movement on his part. "Joan has gone to get the stretcher now. If you promise to cooperate, we’ll cover up your Diaper on the way out. That way the people that have surely gathered outside don't have to see the way we’ve been forced to dress you. What do you say? It's up to you."

Paul was in absolute shock and wanted to continue to fight against this treatment. On the other hand, the word "Diaper" ripped through him and as he felt the elastic of the plastic panties bite into his skin as they encased the soft fluffy diaper cloth embracing his nakedness, his heart sank and he nodded his assent.

The woman slowly and cautiously eased off her captive. She then drew a heavy strap up through his crotch and attached it to a buckle on the front of the straight-jacket parting the Diaper and panties into two puffy sections. The strap pulled firmly against him pressing his penis between the cloths and his body.

Strangely, while this made him feel only more assaulted and violated, the sensation caused a stirring in his loins. In spite of the unexpected intrusion of the strap, he lay passive out of fear that those outside would see his Diapered condition. Paul lay quietly contemplating the strange timing of the swelling of his penis.

"There you go. Isn't that better? See, with the straight-jacket on and that gag in your mouth, we couldn't possibly leave you without a Diaper, now could we? You wouldn't be able to tell us if you had to go to the bathroom and even then, we aren't allowed to let you out of the straight-jacket. Don't worry. We'll soon be at the Hastings Institute and then we can get you settled on the DWI floor. I'm sure you'll be comfortable there. Just relax," she said to her very sad, very restrained charge.

The woman had drawn out the bag a large navy blue pair of sweatpants and was just finishing pulling them up his legs and over the Diaper panties, when the door opened and the woman called Joan wheeled in a stretcher. The two women placed him onto the stretcher as if he were simply a rag doll, covered him from toes to neck with a blanket and fastened three straps around him. As they wheeled him out the door, they were faced with a gauntlet of neighbors in small murmuring knots along the sidewalk leading to the ambulance parked at the curb. That he had been convinced to cooperate with the threat of being seen in Diapers only to be covered by a blanket anyway didn't even occur to him at the time, yet was also a part of carefully planned mind games which had only just begun.

"What happened?" "Is he OK?" "Did he have a breakdown? I knew he was on the edge!" "Why is he gagged?" "Are you taking him to the hospital?" "Where's his wife? Should I get in touch with her?" "Where are you taking him?" Question after question was hurled at the two women. No one thought to ask Paul a question; even if he wasn't gagged, it was as if he was only a thing and not a person.

When they reached the back of the ambulance and one woman opened the door, the other faced the small throng and spoke in a calm, professional voice, "We can not disclose the details of Mr. Edwards condition of course. We can say that he is simply being taken to our private clinic for observation and possible treatment of a relatively minor condition. We are following standard procedures to insure that Mr. Edwards is not hurt in transit. Mrs. Edwards is fully aware of what is happening and none of you need to worry at all. At the proper time, you can express your concern and good wishes to Mrs. Edwards. Of course, we all hope that Mr. Edwards will return home soon. Thank you for your concern, but we now must be going."

With that the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, the doors closed and the crowd was left milling on the sidewalk as the ambulance drove off down the street.

As Paul lay in the back of the ambulance with only his thoughts, he began to wonder what his stay at the institute would be like. He was confident that he would be let out of the straight-jacket and Diaper as soon as he arrived at the Institute. After all, they did have to maintain at least the image of being a strict institution, but the officer called it a Club Med. He imagined an airy sun-filled private room with TV. He pictured a small well appointed dining room where tasty, if institutional meals would be served. He could only hope that the other patients there would be good company and neither boring nor obnoxious.

As the ride continued, he wasn't altogether uncomfortable laying there as long as he relaxed. His arms were tight against his body and he could feel the tightness of the straps of the straight-jacket as well as the straps of the stretcher, but he was held firmly encased and in a way this all was very comforting.

He was however aware of the thick padding of the Diaper forcing his legs unnaturally and uncomfortably apart and the bite of the elastic legs and waist of the Diaper pants on his skin. As he contemplated this feeling, he imagined what it might feel like for someone to actually pee while in this get-up. He knew it wouldn't happen to him, yet the thought that he was strapped in so firmly gave him cause to think about it. No, he reasoned. After all, he hadn't gotten a chance to have a drink at home and he could certainly hold a trip of even a few hours. Once he was at the Institute, he'd be let out of this gear.

His thoughts next returned to his wife and why she hadn't said anything about having made these arrangements. Perhaps it was part of the whole ploy of the institute - he had to truly be surprised and have the committal truly seem involuntary for it to have the necessary impact on the court. His lawyer perhaps suggested this to his wife and had it arranged for his long term benefit.

Well, did it really matter as long he got off the hook for the DWI? That is, as long as this really was a Club Med type place and he didn't have to put up with any serious treatment. After all, he didn't need it. He didn't drink all that much and it was just lousy breaks that had gotten him each one of the DWI arrests. It just wasn't his fault.

[diaperpt]

Chapter 2

Evelyn Edwards sat teary eyed in front of Dr. Ellen Parker. She'd talked with the family lawyer about the Hastings Institute and had then spoken with Dr. Parker on the phone. Paul drank far too much, drove dangerously and treated her badly much of the time. He took no responsibility for his actions, instead blaming his boss, his work, bad luck and sometimes Evelyn. She was far more furious with Paul's behavior than she let on to him and she had been ready to walk away from their marriage as a result. Their lawyer had advised against that for financial reasons and had offered the Institute as a possible alternative. Yes, it would be expensive. On the other hand, insurance would cover a lot of the cost and while this would put a dent in Paul's financial portfolio, Evelyn would be a lot better off. She didn't like to think that way, but Paul's constant drinking had put her through Hell.

Now that the plan was in motion, reality was setting in; especially with the tour she'd just received! She was shocked by what she'd seen and she began to have sympathy for what she was about to put Paul through. She began to wonder if the course of action planned for Paul wasn't over reaction and if maybe she and Paul could make things right on their own. She dabbed at her teary eyes as Dr. Parker spoke.

"Evelyn, I know what you've just seen might seem quite drastic and upsetting, but I need to ask you. How many times has Paul been arrested for DWI?"

"Only twice," she replied.

"Only twice? Isn't once enough? Were those the only two times he's driven under the influence?"

"No. I have to admit I'm afraid to go out with him anywhere. We can't do anything on a social basis because he drinks so much and then I fear for my life on the ride home. But maybe this time..."

Dr. Parker interrupted, "You know that isn't true. And you know that this problem is within Paul; it has nothing to do with you. It isn't going to change until he hits bottom one way or another. What we do here at the institute is take charge. Rather than wait for your loved one to deal with the issues himself - and the possibility that he'll kill someone else, maybe himself and maybe you too - we take responsibility not for what he should be doing, but for what WE can do. As I've explained, we can help you help Paul."

As Dr. Parker continued to talk Evelyn listened intently to what was making more and more sense again. Deep down she loved Paul very much and resolved to go through with this plan of action for him, for her and for their relationship. While Dr. Parker’s explanation of how the relationship would change startled her, she realized it was still better than see Paul in a downward spiral that wasn't going to end well. Now there would be a chance for them.

Soon the phone on Dr. Parker's desk rang. When she put the phone down, she looked up at Evelyn and said, "Evelyn, that was admitting with word that Paul is in our vehicle and on his way here. I don't think it wise for you to see him today, but I would like you to come back first thing in the morning tomorrow so we can explain to Paul a little of what is to come and how it will help him."

Evelyn sighed, nodded agreement and said, "Yes, I know it will be best for Paul. I'll look over your literature again tonight and be back in the morning. It's going to be hard for me, but I know you're right. This is not just the only way to handle things; it really will be a lot better for everyone concerned. Thanks so much for your patience with me. I really appreciate it."

Chapter 3

As the ambulance came to a stop and backed up at the receiving area of the institute, Paul gave a sigh of relief, thinking how he would soon be let up from this stretcher and released from the straight jacket and diaper. He looked forward to moving his limbs which had begun to stiffen a little.

The rear door opened and the women appeared to pull the stretcher out of the ambulance and through a doorway into a small reception area where a hushed conversation took place between the two women and the woman who had been seated behind a desk. The third woman had picked up a phone and made a call. After she replaced the receiver, the conversation between the women continued.

Papers were signed and countersigned and the women from the ambulance exited. Several minutes passed and Paul continued to lie on the stretcher. The woman behind the desk sat there turning away from Paul toward her computer and continued working. Paul thought it strange that he was being left there, but with no options he decided to be patient. After what seemed to Paul to be forever - but was in fact only 20 minutes - a woman appeared from a hallway leading into this reception area.

"Is this the new one?" she said.

The woman behind the desk looked up and said, "Yes, this is Paul. Would you please bring him into room 2? His initial treatment is listed on the monitor, but you'll see that it’s the standard."

Paul was relieved to hear that he was being taken to a room and that he was to get the 'standard' treatment. After all, that couldn't be bad...could it? He'd be up soon and could relieve himself - he'd started to feel some pressure building in his bladder and he'd soon have to go to the bathroom.

Paul was wheeled down the hallway only a little way and into a very small room lit only by the light from the hall and furnished only with a small bed with an LCD display panel at the foot. The woman lowered the stretcher to match the height of the bed, released the belts on the stretcher and pulled off the blanket.

She then unceremoniously rolled Paul onto the bed. She re-situated him so he was face up. Paul was aghast! Wasn't he going to be let up? What was going on? He hadn't noticed the restraints at the foot of the bed which were now being attached to his ankles pulling them out toward the corners of the bed.

The woman spoke calmly, "Paul, I'm sorry, but we aren't ready to get you to your room quite yet. You'll stay here for just a little while and then we'll come get you. Just relax. I'm sorry about the restraints, but I'm not allowed to remove the straight jacket and with it on, you might hurt yourself by rolling off the bed. I'll be back in a little!"

Paul's eyes shot wide with this and he did his best to shout into the gag. He wanted to say he needed to pee and that he insisted on being released, but instead the only sound to be heard was a guttural mumble. The nurse answered this with an understanding smile and stepped through the door drawing it closed behind her leaving Paul strapped to the bed in total darkness other than a faint glow from the LCD display.

The room was warm and soon he began to sweat underneath the straight jacket, sweat pants and very definitely with the hot confines of the Diaper and Diaper panties. It didn't help that the pressure in his bladder continued to build. Paul began to imagine what was to come if he weren't let up soon. He couldn't realize he might not be able to wait for the woman to return and bring him to his room. If only he could tell someone how much he had to pee.

Certainly they didn't really intend him to use the Diaper - it was just meant as a precaution. All medical treatments now-a-days were far overdone - everything a precaution against things that were certainly not going to happen. Yet time went on. Fifteen, twenty minutes. A half hour. An hour and still Paul lay there. Now the pressure was so great he wasn't sure he could last to be let up, but still he held on.

By the time another fifteen minutes had passed, Paul was in agony. The pain had become sharp and focused. If he wasn't released soon, he'd be in trouble. He began weighing his options. It didn't take long to do - he had none! The pain was just going to grow until he released involuntarily. He had already given up consciously holding back and was learning how hard it is to release his bladder while prone.

After all, the last time that happened, he was a toddler! The pain grew more but even when Paul pushed and tried to start a flow, nothing came. Finally Paul could feel a small dribble release from his penis. Involuntarily his muscles squeezed off the flow. The small amount of pee formed a small warm spot as the Diaper quickly absorbed the pee.

The pain grew again and there was a larger flow, again involuntarily stopping. The warm area grew on Paul's front. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. The pain continued until suddenly the flood gates opened and a strong steady stream issued into the waiting Diaper. Paul felt the flow as it flooded the inside of the Diaper. It washed over his front and down in between his legs soaking quickly into the efficient absorbency of the waiting cloths. Paul's embarrassment was mediated only slightly by the relief of pressure in his bladder. How could he face the woman when she returned? He'd have to admit having wet himself and apologize for it, but then it really wasn't his fault that he'd wet. If they hadn't left him there like this it would never have happened.

Paul waited, the diaper cooled and still he waited. He began to think they'd forgotten all about him. What kind of place was this anyway? Didn't they take care of their patients, he wondered? When he spoke to his wife, he'd have a thing or two to say about this! Paul stewed for another hour and pressure in his bladder had begun to build again when finally the door opened to admit the woman who'd brought him here.

Paul looked up at her not sure whether to try to display anger at being left or thanks for her finally returning. She spoke, "Sorry Paul. An emergency came up. Are you OK? It won't be long now." Quickly he shook his head back and forth and unintelligibly mumbled into the gag. Of course he wasn't OK! "Gee, Paul, what's wrong? Well, let me check you."

He turned beet read and mumbled stifled protests into the gag. He couldn’t stand the thought of her checking his Diaper, only to find it wet. She loosened the sweatpants and forced up his back to slide the sweatpants down to his knees. This exposed the clear Diaper panties bound tightly by the crotch strap of the straight jacket. She looked down through the clear panties at a large yellow and obviously wet stain. This was enough to cause Paul to turn even redder with embarrassment, but then the woman reached down, drew back the elastic of the Diaper panty and reached in a finger! Paul was appalled by this assault! What was she doing?!

"Oh my! What a shame! It looks like you've had an accident. You've wet yourself! You aren't the first person here to do that, but I do have to apologize for this long wait. Let me take care of this right now."

Paul was so relieved that he was going to be let up and taken care of properly, yet still humiliated by the whole situation. While he expected the ankle cuffs to be released first, the woman first undid the crotch strap. This alone was blessed relief. He felt the release of the pressure of the strap though the soaked cloth still clung tightly to his skin.

He thought he'd be let up now, but instead the woman set to work, unsnapping the Diaper panties and unfastening the pins of the Diaper itself. The sudden rush of air onto Paul's skin as well as the thought of this woman seeing his naked groin caused him to gasp into the gag. She left him lying there as she went out into the hall and returned. Paul was incredulous as he realized that among the pile of things brought in was a stack of white cloth which could only mean one thing! She put the pile down on the edge of the bed.

First she pulled a wipe from a large container and efficiently wiped off his damp, urine soaked groin. She prodded him to roll his bottom so she could wipe underneath as well. He was confused, embarrassed, infuriated, and worried, yet thankful for at least this attention. He clung to unreasonable hope.

His hopes were not to materialize though, as the woman forced the carefully folded pile of cloth beneath him. The fact that she casually hummed to herself as she did this only drove Paul deeper into despair.

Even so, she spoke gently, "Paul, I'm so sorry for all this. And I'm sorry, but your room still isn't ready." She continued to talk as she shook a large container over him releasing a flurry of sweet smelling baby powder over him. With this, she drew up the front of the cloths tightly over him and expertly pinned the Diaper together.

"You see, Paul, we're short on staff tonight. Two people called in and we just couldn't get replacements for them. We'll transfer you just as soon as we are able, but for now we have no choice but to keep you here. Since this is an insecure area, by law we have to keep you restrained. Certainly you can understand that, can't you?"

He shook his head viciously to answer "NO!" but she continued as if he had agreed completely.

"You don't mind just staying here a little while longer, do you? It's getting late, let me get you something to eat and drink."

How he was going to eat and drink without being let up and out of the straight jacket was beyond him, but he brightened up with this thought. Imagine his disappointment when the woman left and returned with an IV pole with two huge bags hanging from the top. Quickly and efficiently she took a tube which connected tubes from each bag and fed it into an opening in the front of the gag in Paul's mouth. Again he mumbled his objections to no avail. The woman released a catch on the tube and Paul began to feel a flow of very liquidy paste into his mouth.

"Oh, I know what you're thinking, silly, but surely you understand our need to give you nourishment like this. There is no way you could feed yourself lying down in that straight jacket! Don't worry; this will just be for now."

He was so confused. Here he was lying in a diaper and straight jacket strapped to a bed with a gag in his mouth feeding him a bland paste. On the other hand, the woman had spoken so gently and reasonably as if this was just the most normal thing in the world. He reasoned that the woman had to be right and this was simply a temporary problem. He could deal with almost anything for a short period of time. This would all be over soon.

Paul was indeed hungry and thirsty and so against every fiber of his being, he took in the paste - though it would be impossible to prevent its flow into his mouth - and swallowed. It tasted bland with a slightly bitter aftertaste. He wondered what it might be, but it didn't matter - he had no choice but to swallow. The woman left him again shutting the door behind her. The flow of paste was eventually replaced by the flow of what tasted somewhat like apple juice. Again there was a slight aftertaste and no choice but to take it all in.

No sooner had the flow had stopped but Paul felt intense pressure in his bladder again. He began to recognize immediately that he would have no choice but to wet. It didn't look like he was going to be let up soon and he would pee his pants - no, his Diaper - again.

He held off as long as he could until the inevitable took place. Just as before, as a leak developed, his muscles clamped shut. He felt the warmth of the release spread, and then a moment later there was another small release with the same result. Finally there was another flood and the feeling of the flow of pee over his front and down between his legs soaking into the ever efficient Diaper cloth.

This time as the Diaper cooled, Paul felt tiredness overcoming him. He began to worry that he'd be left here overnight. Soon there was nothing to worry about as he slipped into a deep drug-induced sleep.

[diaperpt]

Chapter 4

When he woke, it was a gradual process. Even before opening his eyes, he sensed light. He imagined himself at home in his own bed and late for work. He jerked his body to leap out of bed, only to feel the tight bonds of the straight jacket embrace him. His legs were still bound to the corners of the bed as well. As he slowly opened his eyes and tried to let in the harsh glare of overhead lights, he also felt the cool sogginess of his very wet Diapers. He felt the dampness of his tee-shirt, wet from sweat beneath the tight confines of the straight jacket. His eyes gradually focused on the harsh fluorescent fixtures immediately above him and then turned his head slowly to meet the gaze of his wife and another woman he didn't recognize.

Evelyn was sitting bolt upright, with a determined expression on her face. She had been sitting there for 15 minutes now and she had a firm resolve to go ahead with the prescribed treatment for Paul. She said nothing, but let the other woman speak.

"Good morning Paul. My name is Dr. Parker and I'd like to welcome you to the Hastings Institute as a DWI. You are fortunate enough to have a wife who loves you enough to have sought treatment for your problem before you actually hurt someone else. Usually we get people much further along the path to self-destruction and often after they've killed or maimed people by their lack of control and responsibility. While you have yet to do any really harm, you have clearly exhibited the same lack of control and responsibility.

I won't bother explaining your full course of treatment, as you will soon enough be started on it and you will learn, and learn well, as you go along.I've explained the treatment to Evelyn and though she had mixed feelings at first, I'm sure she will appreciate the finished product. For now, I will say only a few things. My nurses did play some mind games on you. After all, there aren't many who would voluntarily sign on for the treatment you are going to get. Besides, toying with your mind is a little fun for them.

The Diaper and straight jacket were not only necessary, but part of our action plan. Let me explain. You were brought here for DWI - that is Driving While Intoxicated.

Because of your lack of responsibility however, you are here now as a DWI - DIAPER WARD INMATE. Your Diaper marks your return to the time you were an infant and had no control. None. You will do exactly as we wish. Your behavior will be controlled and modified in any way we find necessary, including bringing you back in time to complete lack of control over your bowels and bladder.

While our ideal goal is to return you to productive adult life, some of our inmates have been here for years and show no sign of progress toward responsible adulthood. It's all up to you Paul. I'm not just saying this - it is easier on you and time does go quicker if you cooperate."

She turned to Evelyn as if to invite her to speak.

"Paul, I love you so much but you have been ruining both our lives. I was getting ready to leave you when I found out about this institute. It’s our last hope. I'm sorry it seems so harsh now, but if it works it is well worth it. If it doesn't, well, if it doesn't, you're here for the rest of your life and in effect you will have left me." With this, Evelyn's eyes filled with tears and she began sobbing into a tissue.

Paul's mind was on overload. He couldn't believe what he'd heard. This couldn't be true. It had to be a nightmare, but everything was too real. He had clearly heard his wife and Dr. Parker. He clearly felt the tight bonds holding him firmly to the bed. He clearly felt the soaked Diaper cloths against his skin.

This was real. He ached to scream out in protest. He began to think of a million things to say, to ask, but the gag in his mouth allowed only muffled random sounds. He looked up pleadingly as Evelyn stood up, turned and walked out the door with Dr. Parker. Paul was left with his wet Diaper and thoughts of dread trying to imagine what this treatment would consist of. He didn't have long to wait to start finding out.

Within fifteen minutes, a woman in a nurse’s outfit entered the room and announced, "OK Paul, its time to clean you up and take you to breakfast."

She undid the straps holding his ankles and swinging his body around to a sitting position. She then pulled him up onto his feet. Getting behind him, she grabbed the straight jacket and directed him out the door and down the hall. As he went down the hall, he had an opportunity to look into other rooms where he could see others strapped to beds, some in wheelchairs with bags of fluids connected by tube to a feeding gag - all very obviously in thick Diapers and plastic panties. This sight only made his spirits sink with further recognition of the reality of his situation.

They turned a corner and entered a room that looked something like a bathroom. The only thing that looked normal, however, was a sink set in a large vanity. There was no toilet and it stung Paul to realize why! There would be no need for one here. Paul could see what looked like a shower stall, but for now couldn't see details. Instead, he was brought close to a strange looking tub. It was raised up higher than normal, but was perhaps only 6 inches deep. It was filled and seemed to have been prepared just for Paul. Indeed it was.

"OK, Paul, I'm going to release the straight jacket and take off your Diaper. I want you to realize that resistance is futile. You are in a totally locked ward and any one of the attendants here, including me, can easily deal with any outburst you could possibly imagine. Such outbursts will lead to extreme punishment which you can't even imagine. Nod if you agree to cooperate."

It wasn't a matter of whether Paul was willing to cooperate. He felt beaten and helpless. The look Evelyn gave him and the words she spoke tore through him. His understanding of the legal power she held over him made him realize he had absolutely no recourse. Apparently even his attorney was on his wife's side. While he wondered if he might actually be able to physically overcome this woman, he also realized he was flabby and out of shape. Even so, this was a locked ward and there was undoubtedly strong security throughout the facility. Paul wanted nothing to do with any of this - he DID NOT want to cooperate, but he hung his head in defeat and nodded.

When the jacket and diapers were removed, Paul moved his very stiff arms before being directed to remove his undershirt. He blushed and hung his head as he stood completely naked before this woman, but she seemed very matter-of-fact about the situation. Paul found that the raised tub was at just the right level for him turn and sit on the edge when he was directed to do so. The woman put on rubber gloves and helped ease him into the tub. As soon as he lay down, the woman fastened his ankles and wrists with Velcro straps fastened to the sides of the tub. Immediately Paul's skin tingled.

When his reaction to this showed on his face, the woman explained, "This is a mix of a sanitary disinfectant cleanser and a depilatory. Removing your body hair is necessary to help keep you clean, since you'll be using your Diapers for their intended purpose. You'll have a bath like this about once a week until your body gets the message and slowly stops hair growth altogether as a reaction to chemicals in the depilatory."

He stiffened at these words, but was held tight by the Velcro fasteners. Ignoring his tension, the nurse gently took a cloth and wiping it across Paul's chest, wiped a large swath of body hair away leaving bare skin. As she swished the washcloth in the tub, wads of hair floated loose. Paul was too afraid to react and stared in amazement as his arms, chest and stomach were wiped completely free of body hair. Next came his legs and then the dense bush of his groin. He moaned into the gag as he saw this sign of his adult life being taken from him. This was a further sign that he was NO LONGER in control of his life and would have no say in at least his immediate future.

The woman ignored Paul's muted reactions and continued her work; releasing first one leg then the other to be sure every vestige of body hair was removed on the back of his legs as well. With the ankle straps back in place, Paul was made to sit up while his back was wiped free of hair. Last, Paul was forced into a kneeling position in the tub while the last remaining hair was removed even from his bottom and butt crack.

Now, as clean and bare as the day he was born, Paul lay in the tub again. The tub was drained, filled with clean water and Paul was thoroughly rinsed. He was then released from the tub and ordered to stand still as the nurse dried him with huge, coarse towels. Placing one on the edge of the tub, she ordered Paul to sit again. She then brought out an electric trimmer and trimmed his hair down to the scalp.

"There, Paul. You certainly don't need long hair here. Well, you're set for now. Let's get you dressed and into breakfast."

With a gentle slap on his butt, Paul padded into an adjoining room. There he was made to climb atop a table where a waiting pile of white cloth topped by a plastic coated Depends Diaper greeted his bottom. The disposable had been pierced with a series of holes to allow transference of liquid waste while capturing any solids.

The nurse rubbed baby oil gently but firmly on his now very naked groin and on all the skin soon to be diapered. The strange feeling of her hands on his bare hairless skin and her careful ministrations to his penis caused what for Paul was a much unexpected erection.

"See Paul? This isn't so bad, is it? I can tell you really do like the treatment here already. Not only are you cooperating, but you really look forward to being put into Diapers, isn't that true?"

Of course it wasn't true, he thought, but then where did this reaction come from? Sure it was just the stimulation, but could there be some sort of truth behind what the woman said? Could he somehow secretly be looking forward to this? NO! It couldn't be! But then... He was so confused.

Her hands moved smoothly and skillfully over and beneath his body. He felt an oily finger probe his rear passage and couldn't tell whether it was just her finger or perhaps something else which was violating the personal space of his butt. He quickly forgot this intrusion as her other hand concentrated on renewing the erection of his member.

He was only more confused as the sweet smell of baby powder greeted his nose as the nurse sprinkled liberal amounts over him. He felt the scratchiness of the Depends Diaper on his hairless skin; the tight caress of the Diapers as the tapes were pulled and fastened tightly holding his manhood carefully within. Next he felt the cloth diapers pulled up over the Depends and pins fastened. Then he felt the gentle tug of the light blue pull-up plastic panties as the nurse tickled them up his legs only to carefully billow them out over the thickness of his waiting Diaper. These were almost sensuous feelings. While the meaning of being placed in Diapers was not lost, there was no mistaking at least a small amount of pleasure deep within his memory of his infancy.

The nurse helped Paul into a tee-shirt which read "Diaper Ward Inmate" on the front and back. It fit him well except that it came barely to the top of his Diaper panties. There was to be no hiding his diapered condition. His wrists were placed in Velcro straps linked together with a very short chain and then he was led back down the hall and into a large room where rows of oversized high-chairs held other men and women all in similar shirts and all obviously in Diapers announced by different colors and prints of Diaper panties.

Paul was led to an empty chair where he was told to sit while the tray was put in place, effectively locking his hands below the tray. A large bib was placed over his head and a large bowl of mush placed in front of him. The woman who had brought it fed him spoon after spoon of the mush. It tasted a little like oatmeal, but with a slight aftertaste. Occasionally she would produce a large sippy cup and bring it to Paul's lips. This tasted like apple juice, but also had a slight aftertaste. Soon the meal was done, the bib removed and his face wiped. The nurse returned to let Paul out of the high chair and lead him from the room.

Chapter 5

Down the hall again and into a small room where there was a treadmill. From a drawer, the nurse produced a strap which she attached to Paul's ankles binding them about 15 inches apart. The strap which already bound Paul's wrists was attached to the treadmill. A feeding tube was attached to a gag and strapped into Paul's mouth from which a slow flow of liquid began. The treadmill was turned on to a slow, steady speed of 1.5 mph and the nurse turned and left Paul walking on the treadmill with no explanation.

The pace itself was not difficult for Paul, but the thick padding of the Diaper between his legs, in combination with the strap holding his ankles caused him to waddle bow-legged in short, quick strides. It was not comfortable in the slightest. He had walked only moments when a gurgling arose from his stomach. Breakfast churning, he thought.

Then he felt a small cramp in his bowels. Not too strong or harsh, but compelling none the less. Another cramp and a growing pressure. OH NO! Paul suddenly realized that this was the beginning of a need to void his bowels.

Peeing in the Diaper was one thing. He'd resisted, but had finally given in. But not this! He squeezed firmly against the growing pressure. It went away for a while, but then returned and grew. He squeezed again. Again, it disappeared. And so it went, as he walked 15 minutes, 20 minute, a half hour.

Finally a pressure in the middle of his gut gripped him and wouldn't let go. He tried to hold his muscles tightly, but realized the walking motion was working against him as well. Try as he might, he could feel pressure build and a movement begin within him.

At a certain point, bodily nature took over and he was forced to push in spite of his desire to hold in this urge. Suddenly he felt a rush out of his rear passage and the back of his Diaper billowed with warmth. With a huge wad of poop sitting in the Diaper, his anal passage was still filled making it feel like an intruder.

Even as he was forced to continue walking one foot in front of the other, he pushed harder to rid himself of the offending mass within. More poop escaped and the Diaper billowed all the more. The warm bulk felt weird - Paul had nothing to compare this feeling to, but it wasn't comfortable and soon the odor of it struck his nostrils. He'd shit his pants - no, his Diaper!

This was disgusting enough, but as the flow of liquid into his mouth continued, Paul realized another pressure. Soon a strong flow of pee flooded his Diaper as well, mixing with the poop, soaking into the already damp and dirty Depend. And still he walked, not by choice, but with the unrelenting motion of the treadmill.

Paul didn't realize it, but his 'progress' was being carefully monitored via video camera by both Dr. Parker and Evelyn.

"Evelyn, this is very good. He's being gradually reduced to a realization that he is not in control. His every move will be directed for weeks as he is led to back to incontinence. Pooping and peeing his Diaper is a basic starting point for him to realize he has to work at gaining back control of his life. As unpleasant as it may seem to you or me and undoubtedly is to Paul, we are simply helping him 'hit bottom' sooner than he would have on the outside.

Don't worry. All his activities will be monitored just this carefully and once we get him to a stage of total dependence and recognition of that dependence, we can begin bringing him back. If he responds well, he'll be allowed to slowly take back control. That is, if indeed you choose that option."

Evelyn was shocked. "What do you mean? What else would there be?"

Dr. Parker answered, "Well, it isn't at all unheard of for family members to decide to keep their loved ones at the totally dependent stage. It certainly prevents relapse. You see, we can and do guarantee the success of our program, but no one can guarantee that there won't be any backsliding. Addictive behavior, whether abuse of alcohol, drugs or anything else can not be completely eliminated.

Other families opt to bring their loved one part way back; that is, they will leave the person incontinent and in Diapers but rehabilitate them to function on some level in the family setting. Some stay at home and do chores while a few actually return to their work. Of course special arrangements must be made to accommodate their incontinence and further measures taken to insure no access to the subject of addiction. This is all up to you and you have quite a while to think it over."

"Oh, I don't think I could do anything like that to Paul!" Evelyn exclaimed.

"Don't rule it out, Evelyn. After all, remember, it took quite a while for you to accept our treatment program," said Doctor Parker.

Evelyn sat still, staring out into space and into her future - and Paul's as well.

[diaperpt]

Chapter 6

When a full hour had elapsed and yet more poop had mixed with yet more pee in Paul's Diaper, the nurse returned and stopped the treadmill marking an end to this diabolical torture – at least for now. Paul was released and led back down the hall to a room in which there were four beds, each of which looked like - and in fact were - adult sized cribs. Paul was led to one and fairly roughly pushed down onto the mattress.

At first it felt to Paul like he was sitting on a huge mound - and it was - but soon the shit in his Diapers spread out and oozed in every direction. Paul felt in horror as the cool moist goo slid along his backsides, up toward the top of his Diaper, down between his legs and into his crotch and outward to each side. The initial release had actually been welcomed and felt strangely good, but now he felt only revulsion as the poop smeared its way over his skin. This also renewed the sharp odor of it and it soon permeated the room.

Paul tried to roll onto his side, but the nurse twisted him onto his back and strapped him spread eagle onto the mattress. The side slats of the crib were raised and then to Paul's further dismay, a slatted top was pulled up from the back and fastened down with a padlock. While the straps were enough to keep him immobile, the locked top was a further symbol of his captivity and helplessness over his environment.

Paul was exhausted from the morning's activities. He lay there in the discomfort of the now drying poop smeared almost everywhere within his Diaper and thought things couldn't get worse. Then his stomach gurgled some more, his bowels expelled several bursts of noisy gas and soon he felt more loose poop sliding through his bowels. He couldn't imagine there was anything left in him, but still it came. It was a foreign sensation for him to feel poop squished all over his bottom, lodged against his ass cheeks, and now seemingly stuck in his rear passage. He pushed hard to get it all out but his feeling of futility and disgust with his body’s betrayal remained. A nurse watching on the monitor smiled - they all reacted this way. It was so cute. They really are nothing but little babies!

Soon the nurse came back in to Paul's crib and attached a tube from a big bottle of liquid to his gag and exited the room. The liquid filled his mouth and while he welcomed it at first he was distraught when he realized he had no control over the flow. He drank until no more liquid flowed. He thought he was going to burst.

Moments later, he was in the cycle of peeing into his Diaper again. Partly because he knew it was futile to resist and perhaps partly because he was getting used to the feeling, it was getting easier to allow himself to release. He didn't like the idea, but neither did he like the pain he felt in resisting.

Of course the volume of liquid caused him to pee frequently, but what he didn't know was that he was being given diuretics to further increase the need to pee, muscle relaxants to lessen his ability to resist the urge to pee and poop, and tranquilizers to decrease his embarrassment about his condition.

One more ingredient was a mild sedative. As it took effect, Paul was happy to be drifting off into a sleep, but is was tortured sleep. He dreamed tortured dreams which he would not remember when he woke. He was still groggy when a nurse came to get him up a little after noon. Led into the shower stall, his hands were strapped above his head so he could not cause any trouble. A harsh hand-held shower spray was trained over all his body, removing the caked-on shit. He was sponged off with a soapy sponge and rinsed again. After being dried and led to a changing table, he was lathered with skin cream to prevent severe diaper rash before being powdered and Diapered.

Again he was led back to his crib, strapped down, locked in and fed a pasty goo through his feeding gag. Two liters of 'juice' followed and when he was finished, he fell into a deep sleep. At 5:30 he was woken and changed in his crib. Paul was shocked to find that not only had he wet while asleep, his Diaper was thoroughly soaked! He hadn't just dribbled, but must have peed often without even waking up! The thought that he could have done this scared and disgusted him. Of course it was the drugs and not him, but no one was going to spoil the effect of this treatment!

The nurse then brought him to the feeding room where he was placed in a high chair, fed the same meal as in the morning and returned to his crib. The nurse hooked up another two liters of juice, patted his forehead and said, "Good night. Sweet dreams, little one. There’ll be another big day tomorrow."

Paul was left alone in the room - the other cribs remained unoccupied - and he was left to his own fearful thoughts until he finished the juice and the drugs did their job as he drifted off to sleep for the night.

When he awoke in the morning, it took him a moment to remember where he was and what his condition was. His lack of mobility, the thick wetness around his groin and as he opened his eyes, the sight of crib bars locked on either side and above him drove home the reality of the Institute. Nurses watching monitors of inmates’ cribs saw each inmate wake, yet protocol was to give them at least an hour before entering the room. Inmates could not be allowed to think their waking - or any action on their part - set any events around them into motion - at least not in any positive way. And so, Paul lay there thinking about how far he'd fallen in just a day and a half.He'd spent much of it sleeping, but not the relaxing rest of the Club Med he thought this might be!

As he contemplated his condition, he realized he was peeing his Diaper almost without realizing it. He'd felt the pressure, the involuntary stopping of the flow, then the full release, but it seemed like it was background to him - as if he were only imagining it. The flow around his groin and the warmth in his Diaper however was not just background. He was slipping out of control and he knew it. He couldn't imagine what his future was to be, but it was sinking in that it was out of his control.

He'd blamed his problems at work on others, but he realized he had input. He'd said and done things on his own that at times made things better and at other times made things worse. Here he had absolutely no effect on his surroundings. It frightened him.

After a while, a nurse came in, brought him to the shower, cleaned him up, re-diapered him and led him off to breakfast. During re-diapering, he had felt the oily hand intrude into his hole, but didn't realize that two very fast acting suppositories had been carefully place inside him. He'd immediately felt a burning inside him, but the cause didn't register with him at first.

Now as he was led to breakfast, the burning and pressure increased. Just as he was forced down into the waiting high chair, the movement which had just begun was shut off abruptly as his butt hit the seat of the chair. He was in pain. The pressure within continued to build but even when he pushed hard, the external pressure of the high chair seat blocked his every effort. When his gag was removed to feed him, he shouted out, "Please let me up! I have to poop! Please let me out of the chair!"

The nurse looked at him calmly like this was an every day occurrence and said, "I'm sorry, but its time to eat. Open up!"

She shoved a full spoon of oatmeal into his open mouth as he continued to protest. As he spoke, he spit the oatmeal out onto the tray, the floor and into the face of the nurse. He couldn't help it.

"LET ME UP! I’M IN PAIN! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? YOU BITCH! LET ME UP!!"

There! He'd taken control back. He showed her he wasn't going to put up with this!

Instead, she calmly wiped her face, and then reattached the feeding gag into Paul's mouth.

"Well, little man, I guess that's the end of this breakfast. You can now have our 'alternate' breakfast. I'm sure you'll enjoy it!"

She released the tray of the chair and roughly pulled Paul into a standing position. As soon as he stood, his bottom virtually exploded with poop! Paul felt relief and satisfaction that in speaking out, he'd taken control of the situation regardless of how pathetic it was! But then he was led to another chair in the corner of the room and as he was forced into it he felt a wooden strip running front to back on the seat wedging firmly up into his butt crack. Poop smeared across his bottom as this time a strap was pulled tightly across his upper legs pulling him down firmly onto the bar of the seat. A tray was locked on to hold his arms down, but rather than oatmeal, a bag of paste was hung from a pole and attached to his gag. He was left there for 20 minutes. The poop was beginning to dry and crust and he'd finished the bag of paste. The nurse returned to disconnect the bag of paste and attach a small amount of liquid.

She smiled at him and said, "I want you to know that I'm now giving you your first dose of the drink used to cleanse your bowels completely. If you've ever had a surgical procedure, you've probably had this, but with the luxury of a bathroom. I'll be back in two hours with your next dose!"

The liquid tasted vile. He had in fact had done this sort of bowel cleansing before but did have the use of a toilet and had also at least been able to mask the taste of the chemical with ginger ale. Still he knew how unpleasant that had been. He sat there in agony imagining the impending disaster as he was forced to swallow the harsh chemical liquid. Twenty minutes later the gurgling started.

He felt a drip, then a squirt. Sitting down - even with the board wedged against his butt - was no deterrent to this flow! The squirt became a flood. The warm liquid paste emanating from his bottom spread quickly into the Diaper. The only result of sitting down was that the liquid had to find other places to go. It rose up the back of the Diaper, on the outside of his legs and soon flowed upward to wrap itself around his balls. The Diaper absorbed some but had met its match!

The harsh odor snuck out from under the otherwise efficient seal of Diaper panties and burned at Paul's nose. Explosion after explosion wracked his body. Paul could only sob into his gag and accept his fate. As the released runoff decreased in intensity and finally subsided, Paul slumped over in exhaustion and disgust. His head rested on the tray, but this was too uncomfortable and he was forced to sit up again.

Paul was in such misery that he'd almost forgotten the nurse's promise until she returned and attached more of the chemical.

"This ought to about do it, Paul. You'll be squeaky clean soon! When you're done we'll clean you up, though. We have no interest in creating a huge Diaper rash! As you sit here now, though, maybe you ought to think about your behavior earlier. You brought this on yourself, just like your choosing to drink brought on your problems at work and at home. And all that was what brought you here! Think about that Paul. Those were your choices. Now you pay the price."

Soon he was wracked again with liquid explosions. He couldn't imagine how his Diaper would withstand this onslaught. He sat there, helplessly in agony as flood after flood of watery waste rushed out into the Diaper, forcing its way passed the obstacles blocking its way. He was way passed humiliation and sank quickly into exhausted desperation, waiting for the agony to subside.

When it had, and after he'd sat in this liquid cesspool for a full hour the nurse returned with a wheel chair. She released him from the high-chair and helped him into the wheel chair, whose seat had been covered with a double Diaper pad. Good thing, too, as acidic brown water immediately began dripping down Paul's legs past the tight elastic of his panties.

Chapter 7

Paul was wheeled to the shower room, where he had to be helped into a standing position in the shower stall. Quickly straps hanging from the ceiling were attached to his wrists and a pulley drew them high over his head.

Paul was so exhausted that he allowed most of his weight to be carried by the ceiling straps. He was carefully cleaned, re-diapered and returned to his crib where he was given two liters of juice and allowed to sleep the rest of the morning. That afternoon, he was changed and then brought to the treadmill for an hour walk. Led back to his crib, he napped, was awoken for his 'dinner,' cleaned up and put back in his crib for the night.

This was pretty much his routine for the next month. For the first two weeks he was given suppositories daily to insure regular movements and to weaken Paul's bowel control. The 'cleansing' punishment of the second day was not lost on Paul and though it was repeated once more during the second week, it had the desired affect.

Paul was becoming a model inmate. He offered no resistance to the program at all. His only activity was walking on the treadmill daily. His suppository treatment was shifted so that his movements came during his morning crib time. By the time the suppositories were discontinued, Paul had no will to try to stop or delay his movements. He didn't know or care if he could stop the flow of poop. He knew it would come and the bowel cleansing treatment was such a drastic deterrent to any attempt at controlling movements, he didn't want to risk this punishment. His captors knew that at this point, he could easily have regained control if given the opportunity. It just wasn't in the program, though and depending on what course was decided for Paul he might well be brought to a point of no return without his even knowing it.

While his crib cage was securely locked at all times, Paul was allowed to lie in his crib without being strapped down. The compromise was the introduction of thumb-less mittens which prevented any possible use of his hands. Paul was perfectly happy with this arrangement as he was then able to shift in his crib to allow easier defecation. His Diaper change just prior to this crib time always included a pierced Depends disposable allowing the nurses easier cleanup. Paul's programming had been so complete that unless he was sick, there was no chance of any significant bowel movement outside of this morning crib time.

Paul's control had declined so much that by the end of the month, twice he'd actually woken to find that he'd pooped a small amount in his Diaper while he'd slept. Urine control was almost gone entirely. He discovered that with some effort he could slow the flow of urine, but he was no longer able to stop the flow or to put off the initiation of peeing.

He hated the thought of all this and occasionally wallowed in remembrance of his former life. He didn't miss the stress, but wanted his freedom back and missed food, alcohol and the company of at least a few of his old friends. Of course, by the time he'd come to the Institute and become a Diaper Ward Inmate, he had few friends to miss. They'd all abandoned him because of his drinking and obnoxious behavior. Now he began to imagine that when he was allowed to leave the Institute, whenever that might be, he would be better - he'd treat people better. His captors, of course, knew that that was what he was thinking and also knew he was nowhere near ready for a transition back if it was ever to happen.

At the end of the month, Evelyn was called in to meet with Dr. Parker. Evelyn was shown selected video tapes of Paul to let her see the 'progress' he had made. It shocked her to see her husband in Diapers and panties, with his cute little DWI shirt, but even more shocking was how submissive and cooperative he'd become. The tape showed him eating - actually, being fed in his high chair - where he sounded very sincere in his polite talk with the woman who fed him. His diet had moved on to pureed meats, vegetables and fruits and he'd been 'bottle-trained,' as well.

"Thank you, Nursey. I like my peas. I'm thirsty now." "I like my blueberry buckle best of all, Nursey." "Nursey, my tummy is getting really full."

He was carefully trained not to ask for anything, and certainly not to complain about anything. He could speak, but only in positive ways. He might suggest he wanted more fruit by saying how much he liked it, or suggest he wanted a drink by commenting that he was thirsty, but he could not ask. The nurses would respond to his comments favorably just enough to give him the impression it was a good thing to do, but would often ignore his comments. This way it reinforced the fact that it was the nurses who were in charge; he had no input on his life at all.

More video showed Paul in the shower, being Diapered, and in his crib first drinking from an oversized baby bottle then later curled up asleep with his mittened hands clutching a little stuffed animal he'd been given to comfort himself.

"I'm so impressed! He's so polite and positive! And he's just so adorable, all curled up in his cribby. You've done a wonderful job, Dr. Parker. He looks like the cute little baby I always wanted to have" Evelyn said wistfully.

"Really? Please, Evelyn, call me Ellen. It may seem like we've worked miracles and that Paul is now 'fixed,' but that is actually far from the case. We've got a long way to go before we can think we've gained any definite long term results. It is interesting though, that you say you'd like a little baby just like Paul. That isn't as silly as it may sound."

Evelyn looked shocked, "Oh no! I didn't really mean that! No, I was just thinking about how when I'd married Paul, I'd wanted a baby. That just isn't in the cards for us. I'm not sure I could stand a pregnancy at this point and if Paul ever relapsed, I just don't know what I'd do."

Ellen responded, "No, what I had in mind is actually having Paul as a baby. It may sound strange, but it really is a treatment option for us. In fact, while we are another month away from having to make a firm decision about Paul's formative treatments, part of what we need to do today is discuss options. Paul will be moving on to a secondary level of treatment now, but within a month you must decide what will be best for Paul in the long run.

As you were told at the outset, most of our treatments can not be guaranteed. For instance, if we were to continue training Paul in cooperation and obedience and then allow him back to full adult behavior we couldn't guarantee that he might not start drinking again or perhaps womanizing. We have other levels of final outcome for our patients which might require greater care and maintenance, but can give correspondingly more reliable results. Various levels of 'babyhood' are definitely within our normal range of treatment."

"Oh my!" said Evelyn. "I hadn't ever even considered such a thing. I'm not sure I'd want that of Paul. And besides, wouldn't it be terribly expensive to keep him as a baby?"

"Well, you'll have to decide for yourself if you want the trade-off of losing adult company versus the knowledge that he'd never backslide. Financially, you'd be amazed at how easy it would be. We would simply declare him to be emotionally incompetent and get him labeled totally disabled as a result. Between his own long term disability insurance from work, workman's comp - which we've already pretty much tapped out, and social security, you not only would cover expenses but gain a small monthly pension for yourself for as long as Paul lives. We've done this before for several of our clients."

Evelyn looked shocked. "You're kidding! And I would never have to worry about Paul slipping back into bad habits?"

Ellen answered, "He can't backslide if he's totally incontinent and either under direct supervision or locked in his crib!"

Evelyn allowed herself a little smile, "I'm still not sure, but I'm certainly glad you mentioned the possibility. I won't rule it out. In fact, I'm going to give this a LOT of thought!"

The conversation continued, with Dr. Parker explaining the next phase of treatment and the full range of options available during the third and fourth months of treatment. Evelyn was totally impressed and wondered why she hadn't done something about Paul earlier. And she thought more and more about having a little baby Paul.

[diaperpt]

Chapter 8

Over the course of the next month, Paul was given a little more freedom. He was introduced into a 'playroom' where there were other inmates with whom he could play cards, checkers, chess, or other board games. There was a TV, but no news, violence or sexually suggestive material allowed. There were plenty of comedy's and nature shows. Basically, it was all so bland that no one was really interested in watching, but it was a small piece of the real world; edited as it might have been.

Conversation between the inmates was allowed, but carefully monitored. Only first names could be used and absolutely NO personal history mentioned; there was no "why are you here" or "I used to..." This rule extended into the crib rooms as well, where Paul now had two other roommates.

Paul slipped once when they were all in their cribs ready for sleeping. Paul started to say, "I can't believe I used to go to sleep drunk so often." He got no further than "used to" when a loud horn went off in the room so loud that it shocked him into silence and would have drowned out the rest of the sentence anyway. Soon nurses ran in and jammed a gag in his mouth. For a week, he was back to paste and liquid feedings through the gag, in addition to a daily bare-bottom spanking in the dining room.

He'd be brought in just before everyone else began to eat and would be strapped down bent over a padded horse with his panties pulled down to his knees and his Diaper flopped open. He'd receive twenty hard smacks with a wooden paddle. Each time he'd end in tears and wouldn't be let up until he said, "I promise I won't talk about my past any more. It's gone and I'm going to be a new and better person. Thank you Nursey for helping me be better."

Salve would be applied to his bottom, his Diaper put back, his pacifier gag replaced and he'd be placed in a punishment high-chair in front of everyone as he was fed through the gag.

In the playroom, Paul met many other inmates, male and female. The sight of one particular female excited Paul. This would seem strange to anyone other than one of the inmates, in that the women were also in Diapers and panties wore very tight rubber bras which flattened their breasts under their slightly longer DWI tee shirts and their hair was purposely cut very short and scraggly. With the thickness of the Diapers, everyone waddled, so there was no such thing as suggestive movement. Beyond that, the smell of wet and poopy Diapers would curb any sexual thoughts other than perhaps a desperate DWI!

Even so, Paul imagined what she might look like in another situation and so it was that he was thinking of her as he lay in his crib one night while the others were asleep. He felt a stiffening in his member and he reached down with mittened hands to stroke the outside of his Diaper. Back and forth, back and forth his hands went. This would have to do, as it was impossible for his mittened hands to find their way inside the Diapers and actually touch his penis directly. Even so, he'd wet his Diaper enough so that damp cloth made good contact and soon the resulting friction was bringing him close to climax. He was softly moaning to himself as his excitement was about to peak in his first orgasm when a nurse entered the room.

"Paul!" she said in a sharp, but whispered voice. "What do you think you are doing? Stop that right now!"

The shock of being discovered deflated his hopes and his engorged penis as well. The nurse quickly and quietly strapped him spread-eagle in the crib and fastened a pacifier gag in his mouth.

She hooked up a bag of fluid to the gag and looked at him sternly, "We'll START dealing with this in the morning! You can use the time now to think about how bad you've been and what your punishment might be. There will be no sweet dreams for you tonight, baby. And keep thinking - you DON'T want to see me in the morning!"

Drugs in the liquid kept Paul in a very foggy, but wakeful state. They also raised his anxiety, although fear of what might be coming in the morning would have been enough on its own. Paul's drugged mind led him through tortured thoughts of things far worse than his actual punishment could possibly be. In fact, this was part of the punishment itself. By morning, Paul was an absolute wreck. He lay there sobbing into his gag and jerked against his tight bonds at imagined sounds and movements. When Dr. Parker was filled in on the incident she was so pleased with the results of this new experimental drug that she ordered Paul to be left on it for a full day.

Thirty-six hours after his almost successful masturbation attempt, the drugs had worn off, but Paul was a quivering mass of jelly. When the gag was removed, he blubbered how sorry he was and how he'd never try anything like that again - could they please forgive him - he'd do anything, but please forgive him. This was not the end, however. For the next two days he was left strapped in his crib and fed a high fiber diet through the pacifier gag. He was let up only to be changed and cleaned. At the end of the second day, he lay on the changing table when he felt an intrusion into his bottom.

"Yes, Paul, that's my finger. Now you're going to feel a Dulcolax going in. Remember those? There, that's one. Now here's another. Oh Paul, feel that? That's three. Now here's something I doubt you've experienced before."

Paul felt one more intrusion - this time much larger. There was an initial entry, then it felt like a rougher, scratchier extension of the feeling and finally one last push. There was now a fullness in his bottom that stayed even as he felt something exit - almost squirting out his butt.

"There now, Paul. Now you have a nice maxi-sized tampon to hold in the Dulcolax! You know what one suppository itself does - just imagine three! And their action will eventually force out the tampon, but not soon. It certainly won't be soon enough for you!"

The Dulcolax started to burn within him almost immediately as the warmth of his body melted their chemicals into the lining of his lower bowels. The nurse just smiled at his reaction as she finished diapering him. She could see the growing agony in his face as she led him back to his crib.

The feeling of the tampon locking it all in made Paul's waddle all the more tortured as the effect of the Dulcolax slowly grew. When he was made to sit down on the edge of his crib, he felt the tampon push even higher up into his private canal and he winced at the feeling. His intestines began to growl as he was laid out and fastened spread eagle in his crib. He stretched and twisted as much as he could, but the storm inside him built.

His insides burned and cramped. He began pushing with all his might, trying to expel the tampon and allow the hornets burning within him to escape. He pushed and pushed until finally he felt some small movement. Slowly, gradually, then all at once he felt a rush as the tampon and a large load of excrement pushed its way out of his rear passage.

Almost immediately the stench assaulted his nostrils, but he took this as a victory! He lay there, relieved of at least the immediate distress. He had peed several times before this and peed several more times without even thinking about it. About twenty minutes later, his intestines growled again and more poop slushed out of his bottom. Then later, even more. The bulk in his diet of the past few days was taking its time, but gradually working its way into Paul's very wet and very crowded Diaper.

An hour later, the nurse cleaned him up, re-Diapered him and fastened him back in his crib. What Paul didn't realize, was that as he had pushed so hard to push the tampon out, the chemicals in the Dulcolax were forced further up his colon. For the rest of the day, Paul's intestines gurgled and expelled.

Eventually there were only dribbles and gas, but it remained a painful, unpleasant process. Paul received nourishment throughout this ordeal by way of his pacifier gag, but a low dose of the anxiety medication was included so his imagination ran rampant in addition to his physical suffering. Paul went through two more days of crib captivity on a high fiber diet and high levels of the anxiety drug, followed by a second Dulcolax/tampon treatment. When the effects of that treatment had worn off, Paul finally drifted off into a very calm, drug-induced forty-eight hour nap.

He awoke well-rested and alert. The terrifying memories of his horrible punishment burned within him and he pledged to himself he'd behave and never again be subjected to such punishment again. His captors would have been pleased with his attitude, but they weren't going to leave anything to chance.

After his morning shower, they had a surprise for him. As he lay passively on the changing table, waiting patiently for his Diapers and panties to be put on, he wondered why there was a delay. Then he saw the nurse pull out a strange looking apparatus.

"Look what I have for you, Paul. It's called an MCD. That stands for Male Chastity Device. See how these plastic pieces fit together to look like a little penis? Oh, and see the little nubs on the inside? Let me prop your head up on a pillow so you can watch me put it on you!"

The nurse maintained a pleasant, cheery sounding patter as she carefully and skillfully applied the MCD to Paul's flaccid penis.

"Oh that seems to fit well. OK now I'll tighten the little strap." Paul winced as he felt the two halves of the MCD pull together against his manhood. "There you go. How does that feel?" He looked at her with pleading eyes behind the pacifier gag still lodged firmly in his mouth. "Yeah, well, too bad. And it will be even worse, should you start getting an erection!"

With the MCD firmly in place, she re-Diapered him and returned him to his crib. Over the next few days, Paul grew grudgingly accustomed to this appliance. It was left in place 24/7 over the next two weeks and several times he discovered the sheer diabolical design as he achieved partial erections made torturously painful by the sharp studs on the inside of the sheath.

After two weeks, it was painfully removed; in order to cut the plastic strap holding the halves together, the pieces had to be compressed on his penis to allow the scissors access to cut the strap. Paul's hope for freedom was dashed as a CB-2000 was applied. This apparatus was a series of rings and spacers which held his penis down and was attached by locks to a larger ring fitted around his penis and behind his scrotum.

After a week of this, he was fitted with a CB 3000 for a week, then a Goethals stainless steel model, fitted with rubber for comfort, then finally a Tollyboy, which the nurse explained, was the "Rolls Royce" of male chastity. Each of these fit and felt slightly different to Paul, but since none were as painful as the MCD it didn't matter. With the Tollyboy erections just weren't possible as he found out when he was finally allowed back to the playroom. His fantasies about the female Diapered inmates continued, but he was totally frustrated sexually. While feeling aroused, there was no possible physical reaction.

All of this was carefully documented on tape for Elizabeth's benefit. Her monthly discussion with Dr. Parker had been postponed because of the necessity of his chastity treatments. When she did return and saw the tapes, she spoke firmly and with conviction.

"This proves that Paul can not be trusted. You've done so well - you really have, but its very clear that even with all the restrictions you place on your inmates, he just can't behave! I'm ready to hear about your most drastic options. I wouldn't mind having him a baby, but I'd like to have some sexual satisfaction myself and I'm not sure anyone would want me if I have a big baby hanging around the house. Besides, wouldn't it be a lot of extra work for me? Either that or a lot of expense for help?"

"Elizabeth, the beauty of our next treatment phase is that assuming we go 'drastic' as you say, we have lots of options. While Paul has lost all toilet control, he isn't permanently incontinent yet. That is one option. I would definitely recommend that if you decide he isn't to return to adulthood. It's just easier. Next, we can turn him psychologically into the mind of a two or three-year old who in spite of that can be trained to change and care for himself with supervision.

Surprisingly, we can also train him to give you sexual satisfaction either through standard intercourse or orally. Frankly we suggest permanent use of a chastity device and oral sex for you. If you choose, you can allow him out of his chastity device for occasional masturbation reward. We find that works best."

Elizabeth was intrigued and drank in all the information she was given. The two continued discussions for an hour more and by the time Elizabeth left, she had signed Paul's life sentence as a three year old, life-time, incontinent and Diaper-clad sex slave! With this drastic treatment program the Institute did offer a life-time guarantee with training recall privileges as might be required.

CHAPTER 9

The next day Paul realized something was up when his meals which had progressed to basic adult type food reverted to oatmeal for breakfast, cut-up peanut butter and jelly sanDWIches for lunch and little bite sized pieces of meat, mashed vegetables potatoes at dinner. Instead of the plastic tumblers of milk and juice he'd grown accustomed to he was reverted to over-sized sippy cups. His nap times increased and he was given a bottle and a cuddle blanket when put in his crib.

There was no more time spent in the playroom with the other inmates. Instead, his recreation site was changed to a playroom where he made to sit inside a large playpen filled with soft baby toys and little kiddy books. There were three other such playpens in the room with other 'babies' in them. The large pacifier gag wasn't used, but a smaller more comfortable pacifier was strapped in his mouth. A large TV suspended from the ceiling played continuous babyish cartoons, along with all the latest PBS children's shows. This was just a little bit of what Paul noticed.

What he had no way of knowing on a conscious level was the subliminal tapes played over and over to him during his naps and at night-time. Post-hypnotic suggestion caused him to forget his daily sessions with the psychiatrist who began leading him back to permanent regression as a three year old.

Tasteless drugs introduced into his food caused his already weakened musculature to slowly give up any chance of bladder or bowel control. Rather than simply allow himself to void of pee and poop out of helplessness, Paul slowly began to gain a feeling of satisfaction and pleasure from his increasingly spontaneous releases. The video tapes showed him increasingly rocking himself to sleep in his crib, curled up in a fetal position clutching tightly to his blanket.

While these overt behaviors were being learned, his controllers were careful to balance all this with enough emotional stability so that he wouldn't be subject to typical three-year old tantrums and swings of emotion. Gradually all independence and rebellion was filtered out of his behavior.

During this time period, the gears were set in motion to declare Paul permanently disabled. The respectability of the Institute's legitimate operation lent enough credibility to the legal claims so that the process was mostly formality. For two weeks Paul had to be transferred to another branch of the Institute so that Paul could be examined by court psychologists in a legitimate setting rather than the covertly operated DWI section.

Time ran its course; the paperwork went through and soon Elizabeth had legal documentation as not only medical power of attorney, but legal guardian of a physically and mentally incompetent husband. Paul had no living relatives who either knew about or cared one way or another about Paul and the people at the Institute helped Elizabeth develop her story of what had happened to Paul.

All her friends were understanding and sympathetic. They actually admired Elizabeth for being loyal to Paul and sticking with him. Little did they know what was really going on. Elizabeth was even loaned very carefully screened videos of Paul so she could acclimate her close friends to what she would eventually be bringing home with her.

Elizabeth was amazed at the change in Paul during her next visit. After viewing the tapes, she was told it was time for her to be slowly reintroduced into Paul's life. Warned that it might be difficult for both of them, she was led to Paul's room. Paul looked up from his crib, distractedly sucking on his bottle and clutching his blanket. He stared at her as if he knew her but couldn't remember how. He became slightly agitated and started saying "Eh, Eh, Eh!"

He was trying to form the name "Elizabeth," but his retraining had regressed his ability to speak in adult language. Paul did indeed recognize her and with hypnotic suggestion remembered her lovingly. Through a complex series of hypnotic suggestions, Paul was in the process of learning to think of her as a loving mother and as himself as a well-behaved son whose only goal in life was to please his mommy in whatever way she asked.

Dr. Parker spoke to him, "Pauley, look who I brought in to visit you! It's Mommy! I think you are remembering her as someone else, but this is Mommy. Pauley, can you say Mommy?"

His language had been regressed far below the age of three so that it could be slowly re-developed. He spoke, "Ma ma ma ma ma ma."

With this, he laughed with pride at his achievement. Elizabeth was brought close to tears.

"Look how he's holding out his arms," said Dr. Parker. "Go over and give him a kiss and a hug. He's being such a good little baby, aren't you Pauley?"

Paul smiled and nodded and held out his arms until Elizabeth went to the crib. Sobbing she reached in and gave Paul a tentative hug and a little peck on the cheek.

Back in Dr. Parker's office, Elizabeth talked through how strange this felt - this man she'd come to loathe now reduced to an obedient and loving baby. After that visit, Elizabeth began weekly training sessions at the Institute to learn how to adapt to this new relationship between them. In the meantime, Paul's training progressed well.

Within the next two months, Paul had becoming clinically and permanently incontinent. No retraining or surgical techniques could ever return control to him. He would now be totally dependent on his Diapers and plastic panties for the rest of his life. Although in almost all aspects of his new life he was only three years old, he started training to learn how to prepare and put on his own Diapers. While in many ways his motor skills had been allowed to deteriorate, it wasn’t to the stage where he couldn't be trained for specific tasks. He hadn't really lost motor control, but simply had been led to 'forget' it for most tasks.

At first, he had trouble getting the pins so that the Diaper didn't just fall off. Gradually he got the hang of it and he was proud of himself for being able to change his own Diaper. Now when he was told it was time for a Diaper change, he'd crawl to the changing table and get new Diapers and a clean pair of panties. He'd take off the soiled items and place them in the appropriate bins for later cleaning and wipe himself carefully with large baby wipes or a warm, wet washcloth.

Next he would apply baby oil and rub it in to avoid Diaper rash and crawl up onto the changing table to apply baby powder and pin on his Diaper. Once he got the hang of all of this, he was even taught to put on a perforated Depends when a bowel movement was likely. It was quite a while before he was trained to handle poopy Diapers, but this too would come with time.

Finally it was time to start training with 'conjugal visits.' For these visits, Paul's roommates were kept busy elsewhere. Elizabeth was totally self-conscious about the need for the presence of a clinician in the room with them, but had grown to trust Ann, the woman who'd taught her so much in the last several weeks. Elizabeth was embarrassed and unsure of herself as she approached Paul's crib.

"Hi Baby Pauley." she said. "It's Mommy. Mommy loves you very much."

She bent over and kissed him gently on the forehead. He smiled and positively glowed as he looked up lovingly at her.

"Do you love Mommy, Pauley? Do you? Do you want to make Mommy happy?"

Paul's child-like smile just grew as he nodded his head up and down.

"Me lub Mamamamama!" came his babyish reply with a babyish giggle.

Elizabeth looked over to Ann tentatively and she smiled and nodded back. Slowly Elizabeth unzipped her dress and let it and her slip fall loosely to the floor. She stood there in bra and panties. "Pauley, do you want to make Mommy happy? Really happy?"

Paul's grin continued as he looked lovingly at his "Mommy." "Yeth Mamamama, hap, hap hap hap!" he said excitedly.

Again Elizabeth looked over at Ann who nodded and whispered, "Yes, go ahead now. Lower the side of the crib. He's all ready for you. Be gentle, but don't worry. He'll know what to do."

Elizabeth paused, then pulled down her panties and let them drop on top of her other clothes. She stepped toward the crib and with a little awkwardness managed the mechanism to raise the top and lower the side of the crib. Paul lay there smiling but passively awaiting something he knew only in now inaccessible areas of his memory and in newly, hypnotically placed learning.

Slowly and gingerly Elizabeth put her knees onto the crib mattress and straddled Paul. She looked down at him - Diapered and in his cute DWI shirt - smiling back at her with an innocent three year old outlook on life. Could this work? Wasn't this just too bizarre for words?

But she had to try. She reached down and touched herself. She was a little dry, but her own touch refocused her mind and soon her love juice began to flow. Paul stared up still smiling as she eased forward on him and slowly lowered her love box over his waiting face. She felt his tongue, awkward at first, as it explored her. Slowly her passion rose as his tongue glided back and forth, then in and out of her opening.

It wasn't perfect or what it would eventually become, but to be fair she was nervous herself. Even so, she began to moan, then cry out in pleasure as wave after wave of orgasm washed over her body. Her body shook in pleasure before she finally collapsed on top of her 'little baby.' She lay there for a moment in the glow of this momentous achievement then took Paul's face in her hands and kissed him over and over again. As she slowly climbed off the crib, Paul looked up at her smiling, saying, "Pau-Pau guh? Pau-Pau guh boy?"

"Yes, Paul. You are a good boy. You are a very, very good baby boy. You are Mommy's good boy and Mommy loves you," she said with a bright warm smile. And she meant it. All the loathing of her wayward, irresponsible husband was gone and she loved this little three-year old baby with all her heart.

These sessions continued over time and Paul's technique improved. Eventually Elizabeth was taught to remove and re-install Paul's chastity device. When Paul was good, he would be rewarded by being brought to climax by Elizabeth's latex-gloved hand and when he had misbehaved in some minor way, he'd be brought almost to climax only to have his penis iced down and placed back in the chastity device to wait until the next opportunity. Those chances only came every few months though regardless of Paul's best behavior. Paul had been taught well - life was not about him, but about what he could do for his Mommy.

After another month of reinforcement training separately and together, Dr. Parker met in her office with Elizabeth and Baby Pauley who'd been wheeled in a big baby stroller.

"Well, Elizabeth, what do you think?"

Elizabeth smiled broadly and said confidently, "Dr. Parker, I think we're ready to go home. All the work on the house has been completed. Pauley's nursery is ready for him. The new bathroom is all set with tub, sink, hampers and of course, the washer and dryer for Pauley's Diapers and baby clothes. I've stocked up on all the items on the list you've given me and I'm confident things will work out well for us.What with your visiting nurse after-care to address any problems we have over the next few months, I think we're ready. What do you think Pauley? Want to go home with Mommy?"

As always, Paul looked ridiculous. His man sized body had long since stopped making any effort at producing body hair other than tiny wisps that any other three year old would have. As always, the hair on his head was trimmed close to the scalp for ease of care. He was just then wetting his freshly changed Diaper, but he barely noticed.

He loved his fun Diaper panties decorated with little babies playing with alphabet blocks although they were tucked neatly inside his new light-blue romper outfit. The little shirt underneath had puffy little short sleeves which would be adorable on a true three year old. This meant nothing to Paul - in his mind, he was a three year old and his life was just what he could hope for.

He looked lovingly up at Mommy and said, "Yeth Mommy. Me want home. Me want home wif Mommy." He looked at her and added, "Mommy, we can pway our game ah home? Me wike to wick you special. We do Mommy? We do dat home?"

Dr. Parker smiled at both of them and laughed, "Well, I think its time. I've got to tell you, your little boy is our best success story. Congratulations! Only now can I tell you that a lot of Pauley's training was experimental. I couldn't let on but he has been our very first baby, sex-slave regression. There were few actual risks beyond simple failure, but we can all be pleased with the high level of success. With your permission, we'd like to use the documentation of Pauley's story to help others in your predicament."

Elizabeth not only agreed, but volunteered to come and speak confidentially with anyone coming to the Institute for help. And so Elizabeth brought home her little baby boy and with very little adjustment they fell into a wonderfully happy routine.

Pauley changed himself, dressed himself (sometimes needing a little help from Mommy with some of his dress up clothes), washed his own Diapers and in general took care of all of his own needs. His eating habits and preferences remained those of a three year old and when he became upset, the comfort of a pacifier, his blanket and a hug from Mommy was all he needed.

Unlike a true toddler, Pauley could be left locked into his crib, play-pen or simply within his room for an hour or two at a time without fear of harm and for longer stays, confidential sitters referred by the clinic could baby sit.

Elizabeth's friends knew and acceptable her husband's mental breakdown and the regression resulting in his now permanent baby state. She didn't take him out often, but did frequently entertain friends. They all loved little Pauley and agreed with Elizabeth that she was far better off with him than she had been with her husband. And Pauley couldn't have been happier himself!

THE END

[TDL]

Great story! Keep making stories like that and you'll be a professional author in no time!

[Cute Baby]

Excellent story, well written

[Valisia]

Awsome story

[babykatie1]

Great Story!!!! Thank You so much for posting it

[pampywamp]

lOVED THE STORY ANY CHANCE PAULIE HAVING A RELAPSE

[Fulldiaper]

Awesome writing. Please keep up the great work!

[Baby Flo]

This is a great story! I love it!

Thank you so much!

[Teenbaby96]

Nice one, keep on the good work

[Intodiapers]

Great story!   Thanks for sharing,  I really enjoyed reading it.  

[Sarah Penguin]