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Of Leopards And Their Spots (Cowritten with Personalias. Repost)


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“Skye,” I called out as I marched up to her. “Can I have another quarter, please?” 


“Gavin, what’s that mess on your shirt?” Skye asked, pointing the stain the little brat left behind from the mud and the spit. 


“That’s...well…” I paused and waited for a suitable explanation to come to me. 


“Was somebody picking on you?” her eyes narrowed, examining my face for any tells.


“No, just playin’” I lied, glancing to either side of me so I wouldn’t look her in the eye. How do you explain to your girlfriend that you just got in a fight with a three year old and were looking for revenge?


“That doesn’t look like playing to me,” Skye decided. “Was that little boy with the orange balloon picking on you?”


“NO!” I shook my head fiercely. “Just playin’. Can I have a quarter, now?”


“Was that little boy picking on you because you’re wearing a diaper?” she asked point blank. I went quiet. Skye could read me like a book, but not saying anything was better than confirming or denying her suspicion. “What do you want another quarter for?” Skye asked, an obvious look of mistrust across her face. 


“Playin’,” Was all I told her. Skye’s mouth twitched a bit to the right side of her face. Her left eyebrow cocked up. She wasn’t buying it. She was bemused, but she wasn’t buying it.


“PWEEEEEEEAAAASE!” I pleaded in my cutest lisp, my bottom lip stuck out, hiding my mischievous grin, and my eyes went wide like a puppy dog’s, concealing my malefic intent. 


“Heh,” she chuckled lightly. “Alright kiddo,” she reached back into her purse. “I’ll let you have a shot. But you call me if you need any help.”


“Okay,” I quickly nodded. As if I’d need help teaching some punk brat a lesson.


I took the quarter from Skye’s hand and put it into the animal food vendor. There was a slight grinding sound and a satisfying click as I turned the stainless steel knob and my ears danced with joy at the sound of feed dropping down into the little compartment beneath.


I opened my right hand and used my left to lift the little metal flap on the feeder. It was like a gumball machine, really. Little bits of brown kibble, good for pigs and sheep and chickens-but especially billy goats-flowed into my waiting palm. 


Next, I crinkled across the petting pen, taking long strides to cover the most ground. There was no way I was going to be able to approach the kid silently, with all the noise the diaper was making. My only hope would be to act fast, cover a lot of ground quickly, and hope that the plastic in his training pants crinkled enough so that he didn’t notice my approach. 


He was feeding the baby goat that I had been feeding earlier; blissfully unaware of my approach That thing was a total bottomless pit. Good. It seemed providence was on my side this one time. I slid up right behind the kid, and squatted down on my haunches. Kibble in hand, I shook it by the brat’s left hip for the goat to see.


It didn’t at first, as it ate the snot nosed spitter’s kibble greedily, but then out of the corner of it’s eye, it saw movement and jerked its head towards my hand.


“Huh?” the brat stared at the kid. “Hey, goat, what are you doin?” The goat started nudging past my preschool aged antagonist for my hand, eager for more food. With the precision of a pickpocket I slipped the kibble into his shorts pocket, and stepped away.


“Back off, billy!” the brat shouted. The baby goat, deaf to the little bastard’s demands, stuck it’s muzzle in deep.


“Hey, stop it!” he demanded. The goat paid no mind. It had kibble to eat. I stood back and watched, my fingers crossed, waiting for what I hoped would be the inevitable to happen.


RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! YES!


The little bastard’s shorts hung in the baby goat’s mouth. Now, just like me, the bully in the making stood naked from the waist down, save for his plastic backed undies, his mouth agape.


“Chaz, baby!” a curvy woman with tight, frizzy blonde curls and an obvious boob job ran up to the kid. “Are you alright, Chaz?” 

Chaz? Chaz?! No wonder the kid was such a jerk at the ripe old age of four-ish; he had a douche name! Why did that woman look so familiar? Hadn’t I seen her before?


“My...my...my” Chaz gasped, fighting back tears and failing. “My pants!” 


“I know baby,” the woman rubbed his back. “I know. Mommy will take care of it.”


“Mommy?!” Chaz looked confused. “What do you mea-?”


“YOU!” she turned around to face me. “Don’t think I didn’t see that little stunt you pulled.”


“Me?!” I looked around nervously. “What did I do?”


“Don’t give me that look,” Chaz’s mom wagged her finger in my face. “Just because you’re allowed to walk around without pants, doesn’t mean everyone has to!”


“The hell?!” I exclaimed “That’s not why I…”


“So you did do it!” She cut me off. She was so angry, everything but her obviously fake breasts were shaking. “Well, mister, I think it’s time someone taught you a lesson.”


With surprising quickness, she grabbed my legs with her outside hand, and grabbed my waist around the back, picking me up so that I was bent over, and suspended by my midsection.


Holy shit, what kind of steroids did this woman do?! Did I piss off an ex wrestler or something?!


I kicked and flailed, trying to get this madwoman to let me go. I thrashed against her, barely managing to squirm, while she squeezed me harder and harder in response. The ground came a little closer, and I thought I was about to be freed, but no such luck. 


My oppressor took a knee and shifted my weight around so that I was laying across her upturned knee. My knees hit the dirt, and I squirmed and kicked, but I was doing little more than spinning my tires. My squirming transformed into shuddering as the realization that I couldn’t escape sunk in and became reality.


I looked up and saw Chaz, smiling with glee, eyes burning with anger and hatred at me.


“It’s past time you get disciplined, little man,” I heard her announce; manic, sadistic joy in her voice. Still shaking in fear, I looked back over my shoulder, and saw her hand raise into the air. Was she serious? Was I about to be spanked?!


A cry rose up in my throat, unbidden as pure animal panic welled up inside me


“MAAAA!” my voice erupted out as the blonde bimbo swung down towards my padded ass. I had meant it as a kind of war cry-something to draw power from; maybe make a final push to escape or blunt the pain. But it was more mewling than anything.


If I was lucky, she’d hit there instead of my legs; at least the diaper would absorb some of the impact. I slammed my eyes shut bracing for impact.


“That’s enough.” Skye’s beautiful voice rang out, clear as a bell. I opened my eyes and saw her, reaching out and taking the other woman’s wrist.


Chaz’s mother screeched “Let go you little-”


“You’re not gonna want to finish that sentence, honey.” Skye cut her off, her eyes burning with an intensity that I had never seen before. “Gavin’s mine. You have no right.” I felt the grip around my body loosen a little, and then let up completely. I wasn’t being pinned to this woman’s knee anymore “Get up, Gavi-poo. This lady and I need to have a talk.”


Trembling, I did as I was told and rose up on my own two feet, backing away quickly, and hiding behind Skye for cover. Skye released her grip on the other woman’s wrist.


“Do you know what your Gavi-poo did?” Chaz’s mom spat. 


“Yeah, I know,” Skye answered. “And it was wrong. I’m sorry about that. I’ll be happy to pay you for the shorts. Do you know what yours did?”


“What?” Chaz’s mother cocked her head to the side.


“He was making fun of Gavin’s diapers,” 


“HE WHAT?” Chaz’s mom turned her gaze on her little boy. 


“And,” Skye hammered in, “I saw him spit in Gavin’s face, too.”


“Did he, now?” the rage was now directed at her own child instead of me. The volcano was getting ready to blow. 


“Uh...no…” Chaz mumbled, looking like a cornered rat.


“I know when you’re lying, Chaz,” the woman was shaking again. “I’ve always known when you lie. 


“I’ll let you get to that,” Skye began walking away, with me in tow.


“AND YOU’RE WET AGAIN!” I heard her shriek as Skye walked us out of the pen.


“Come on Gavi-kins.” Skye directed me away as Chaz and his insane mom became so much white noise. “Let’s go have fun somewhere else.”

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Loved this part. I laughed so hard I thought I was going to wet myself. Obviously you have some personal knowledge of feeding those little monsters. They stop at nothing to get their fill. 

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  • 4 months later...

I was still shaking from fear and rage as Skye led me by the hand away from the petting zoo, the diaper wrapped around my waist crinkling with every step had become so much white noise in my fury and self loathing. Was that lady really going to spank me? Did she think I was some dumb little brat like her son? Okay, I admit it wasn't great what I did to the little jerk, but I deserved a chewing out, not having my ass paddled in public.

I kept replaying the incident over and over again in my head, just talking to myself while I followed Skye's gentle lead. My mind was on a personal re-loop of my own personal failure. Why had I let that happen in the first place? I was bigger than her; it shouldn't have been so easy for me to be dragged over her knee. I should have fought back instead of cowering across her lap.

And Skye had to save me! That wasn't supposed to have happened! The guy was supposed to save the girl, even if he was the scrawny, slightly geeky type. It worked that way in Back To The Future, anyways. Why couldn't I have gotten an amazing adrenaline boost at my impending danger? Or at least not have been on the verge of tears? Couldn't I at least have wriggled out of that psycho bitch's grasp?

"Earth to Gavin," Skye said, patting me gently on the shoulder. "Come in baby, are you there, Gavin?"

"Huh?" I cleared the cobwebs out of my head, looking up to Skye.

"We're here, honey."

"Where?"

I looked ahead of me. Fifty feet away were dusty wooden log posts cemented into the ground. Other log beams connected them at the top, middle, and bottom, like life-size linkin logs, to create a broad ring.

In the middle of the ring, hard, sandy ground with a red metal pole in the center with a flag with the zoo's logo on it flying from the top. From the main pole, others sprung horizontally creating a kind of like a medieval wheat grinder that turned ever so slowly causing the flag at the top to turn and twist in the wind. Slow tired hoofbeats rang through the morning air.

"The Pony Ride?" I said, looking up at Skye.

"Oh please, Gavi-kins," Skye begged. "I really want to go for a pony ride."

"You really wanted to go to the petting zoo," I reminded her, "but I was the one who ended up feeding the animals and playing."

"And you were so cute playing with all the little animals, too." she fluttered her lashes at me. "Okay, fine," she admitted. "I want us to go for a pony ride. Come on," she persisted. "You know you wanna make me happy."

Damn it. She had me there.

"Fine," I sighed. "Let's get in line."

There were at least a few dozen people ahead of us, all of them mothers and their infant children, it looked like. We were the only couple in line. Soon after we lined, up more mothers and their small children lined up behind us, cutting off my escape. I had toddlers to the left of me, infants to the right, and there I was, stuck diapered in the middle with Skye. Skye was right, though, more mothers and their kids were showing up as the day continued.

For the most part, the line consisted of toddlers, just barely old enough to walk. They all seemed to be wearing just t-shirts and little safari-print diapers that matched my adult one. There was even a woman with a baby in a stroller near the front of the line. Kid couldn't walk, and mom wanted him to ride a tiny horse.

I spotted a few tiny heads poking out amongst the diapered masses in line. They looked to be pre-school age, if I had to guess. The weird part is, they were all diapered, too. Most of them weren't even wearing pants. I'm not one to judge, but at a certain point, you should teach a kid modesty. If you're not potty trained, you're not potty trained, but shouldn't they at least have been wearing shorts?

But then I noticed that their diapers matched everyone else's in line. Maybe they had been wearing shorts today, and then they had an accident. An accident just like the one…an accident just like a little kid their age might have. Sometimes little kids had potty accidents. Sometimes big boys and grown-ups did too. That's all, I reassured myself. That's all.

As the seconds peeled away into minutes, my throat felt dry.

"Hey Skye," I tugged on her shirt a bit. "Do we have anymore of that drink I like?"

"You mean the Baby Formula?" Skye asked, her eyes forming little wrinkles as she smiled. "Sure thing, honey. Finish it off. But be careful," she shook her finger at me while she handed me the little container. "That's the last you're getting till lunch, understand?"

"Mmmm-hmmm," I agreed as I unscrewed the cap and knocked back the last of the deliciously sweet not-quite-milk. I gulped it down so fast that a few streams of it spilled out the corner of my mouth and ran down my chin. It really was quite good, and it wasn't having the negative reaction I expected due to the heat. It was hot, and yet I didn't feel sick like if I had chugged real milk. If anything I felt refreshed. Maybe this stuff really could compete with Gatorade.

"Awww," Skye tickled my chin after I wiped my mouth off with my forearm. "You spilled. We'll have to get you a sippy cup for lunch," she teased me. I jerked back, only slightly annoyed by my hot girlfriend's flirty teasing.

She leaned over and gave me a side hug, and I nuzzled her cheek with my short cut dirty blonde hair, languishing in her long luxurious braided hair of many colors.

After a few minutes of nuzzling, my stomach gurgled slightly. Gas pressure was building up and I was starting to shift uncomfortably in line.

"Something the matter, Gavi-poo" Skye asked me, feeling my squirming.

"Nope," I grunted, doing my best to maintain composure. I gentle breeze picked up and kissed me in the face. I was officially downwind, and figured this was the best time to break wind. This was gonna be my best shot, I knew, and so I cut off a slight fart to relieve the pressure. It did the trick, and I relaxed a bit after the gas came out.

It turned out the breeze wasn't enough, and I smelled my own pungent aroma as it invaded my nostrils. It wasn't that bad, I suppose, but then again everybody likes their own brand.

"Oh, Gavin," Skye turned her nose up, a look of slight revulsion crossing her face. "Did you…?" she let the thought trail off.

"Did I what?" I did my best to act innocent. There were enough people here, it's not like I was the only suspect. Skye wasn't buying it. I felt her hand on the small of my back, and the waistband of my…of the diaper I was wearing get pulled back. I saw Skye bend twist a little bit to get a peek at my backside.

"Just a toot," Skye confirmed, before letting the waistband fall back into place.

"What was that?" I asked, incredulously.

"Just checking out your cute little tushie," Skye grinned, "Like I said, It's just cute." She gave me a little peck on the cheek.

"Oh that's a good point," the woman in line immediately behind us said. She was a black woman in her thirties wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans. "Come here, Little Bit." She bent over her son, who was maybe one and a half and pulled back the waistband of his diaper and took a look inside. Her toddler son, "Little Bit", just smiled bashfully and stuck his fingers in his mouth, his eyes twinkling with wonder looking at me.

"All clean," the woman pronounced, "….for now," she gave a playful look to the toddler beside her. Her son giggled at that, looking back up with complete loving affection for his mommy.

"Oooooh," Skye cooed at the little boy, still chewing on his fingers. "Your little guy is sooooo cute." she complimented the mother behind us.

"So's yours," the woman nodded in my direction. My mouth felt dry all of a sudden, and I took a step behind sky, ducking slightly behind her. "He's a bit shy, isn't he?"

"Oh, Gavi-poo is always shy around strangers." Skye replied. "If I hadn't asked him out on our first date, I don't think we would have had a first date." Both women had a good laugh at that. I shrank down a little more. This was so embarrassing! Couldn't Skye keep anything private?

"Your boy there seems happy," Skye commented to the woman behind us.

"Oh, he is!" the black woman lit up. "We've been planning this for months."

"Oh-Em-Gee," Skye slapped her thigh in excitement. "So have we!"

"I kind of got that feeling about you," the other woman nodded in approval. "We're even taking pictures so we can remember this special day for ever and ever."

"Oh nooo!" Skye moaned. "I didn't even think about that, and my phone is just the worst for pictures."

"Oh, don't worry about it, girl," the lady behind us wove off Skye's distress, "How about I take a picture of our two men together, we swap info and I'll send it to ya?"

"That. Would be. Aweseome." Skye grinned while I did my best to appear small and unnoticeable. "Come on Gavi, hold little…little…?"

"Kevin," the boy's Mommy told us.

"Come hold little Kevin's hand and let's get us a picture," Skye told me.

"Do we…do we have to," I stuttered, nervously. I didn't want photo evidence that I wore disposable underpants today, yet alone ones that matched with an actual baby diaper.

"Come on, baby," Skye leaned up close to me. "Don't you wanna be a big boy, and help the baby hold still in the picture?" I did. I did want to be a big boy. Yeah. I could do that. Sure. I might not be able to fend off a mad woman from trying to spank me, but I can at least help a little baby take a picture for his mommy.

"Okay," I licked my chapped lips. "Let's do this."

"Oh Gavi, you are really the best," Skye hugged me and showered my cheek with half a dozen quick kisses.

"Okay, now Kevin," Kevin's mother instructed while reaching into her purse to pull out a tablet. "I want you to hold Gavin's hand like a good boy, okay Little Bit?" Kevin's mother shooed him closer to me. Kevin took his fingers out of his mouth, and offered them up to me to take hold, a mischievous smile on his lips. The little bugger knew that what he was doing was gross. But after messing with that one little brat at the petting zoo, I was in no mood to find out what this new woman would do to me if I somehow made her kid cry.

Gingerly, I grabbed the boy's slimy, saliva soaked digits and turned to face Skye and Kevin's mom. Skye was right behind Kevin's mom, making trying to make goofy, funny faces at us so the baby would laugh. She'd bug out her eyes, and stick out her tongue, and the switch to puffing out her cheeks suddenly before yanking on her ears.

"Say cheeese!" we were prompted.

"Cheeee-ha!" I giggled as Skye pushed her nose up against her face so she'd look like a piggy and then start picking her nose. Okay. Okay. That one got me, I had to admit.

"This look good to you?" Kevin's mom said pointing to the picture hidden behind the tablet.

"Perfect," Skye gave a satisfied nod. "Now just send it here, when you have the time, please." She began poking and punching in her email and contact information. "And here's my phone number if you ever want to meet up."

"Why, thank you," Kevin's mom smiled. "That would be delightful." Kevin let go of my hand, and I reflexively wiped his drool off on my increasingly stained t-shirt.

"What was that?" I asked Skye when she came back to me

"Just networking," Skye said coyly. "Never hurts to make new friends, does it?" I shrugged, indifferently. I just wanted this to be over.

As we got closer and I could actually count the horses, I counted only six ponies. And I had time enough to count the length of the ride. Not counting loading and unloading, which had to be done one pony at a time, the ride around in the little circle lasted close to two minutes each time. Every child here needed personal supervision getting on and off the horses. No wonder this was taking so long.

When we got nearer to the front, I started feeling uncomfortable again. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something in my crotch felt like it was starting to ache a little bit. What could that be?

Maybe I was just getting antsy to get this ride over with: Based on the position of the sun, and the average ride time, we'd been waiting in line for at least half an hour. What grown man in his right mind waited thirty minutes to ride a pony? But I was with Skye. I was never fully in my right mind when I was with her.

"Gavi-poo," Skye whispered to me, "You're fidgeting. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just…restless, that's all." I whispered back.

"Are you suuuure?" she asked me, slowly, making sure to draw out the "sure". "You look like you might need to go potty. Do you need to go potty?"

"No!" I stiffened up, feeling a bit awkward and embarrassed at my own girlfriend asking me if I had to go pee. Of course I'd know when I needed to go pee-pee!

"Okay," Skye answered me, her voice tinged with doubt. "But if you need to go potty, it's okay to ask me. We can always get out of line and go potty and start over at the back. I won't mind."

BACK OF THE LINE?! I looked back over my shoulder, behind us. There were even more mothers and their young children behind us than before. The line looked like it stretched and wound all the way back to the petting zoo, now. There was no way I was going to leave and go potty and then have to go back to the end of this stupid line.

"No," I shook my head, "I'm good."

I counted the ponies and the people in front of us. Assuming that none of the mothers rode- and why would they?- there would be enough ponies for both me and Skye to ride and get this thing over with. Or even better, a thought occurred to me, maybe we could ride together.

The same warm, tingly, fuzzy feeling from before came over me as I imagined Skye and I sharing a saddle together. I'd be in front, of course, and Skye would ride behind me, so close she'd practically be grinding up against me, with her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. Maybe, a part of me wished, she'd even get a little naughty and sneak little gropes at my junk as the pony trudged around on it's never ending loop. That wouldn't be bad. That wouldn't be so bad at all. Suddenly, I wasn't so uncomfortable, anymore, and I stopped fidgeting.

I just kept picturing the delightfully pervy image in my head, again and again and again. Blood began to rush away from my face for a change and head down below. A warm, wet, heat invaded my pants as I dreamily smiled at nothing but the images in my head. Was the promised aphrodisiac of the Baby Formula finally kicking in?

An inner heat, the heat of passion, I realized was very quickly becoming outer heat, especially in my pants. What I erotically attributed as a fire in my loins persisted and spread past my penis into my testicals, splashing -splashing?- off the front of my pants and flowing down to my testicular region. The majority of my of my man parts felt warm and wet; almost like a nice spongebath.

Then, much too late, it occurred to me that I wasn't wearing any pants. Horrified, I stared down at my crotch. I was wetting! I was wetting! I was wet! How the hell had that happened? I froze, quietly panting as recent history repeated itself.

I scrunched my eyes shut, waiting for the urine to start flowing down my thighs and begin puddling at my ankles, just as before; waiting for the inevitable gasps and then uncomfortable laughter to follow.

I waited for a three second eternity in the blackness behind my eyelids. I waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing. The thirsty padding around my crotch soaked up my pee-pee accident, drank it into itself, and the leakguards around my inner thighs blocked any of the stuff trying to escape before the padding could do its job.

It turns out, that wetting your diaper was almost nothing like pissing your pants.

"Gavi-kins?" Skye broke in, "it's our turn next, honey bunny. Is something the matter?"

I took a quick glance down at my heavily padded crotch. There was some minor discoloration, yes, but nothing too noticeable unless you knew to look. Most of the diaper was covered with cartoon zoo animals, helping obscure what I had just done to myself. It was almost as if they were smiling at me as a way to reassure me…not mock me. 'Don't worry Gavin. We've got you covered!'

"No," I smiled and sighed with a tinge of nervous relief. "Nothing's the matter at all."

"Oh, Gavin, my silly billy baby boy," Skye kissed me on the forehead, for some reason.

The wooden gate to the little corral opened up, and Skye and I walked in behind the little families in front of us. The lady opening and closing the gate waved in Skye's new friend and her baby behind us. Hmmm…maybe Skye and I were going to be riding one horse together.

The animal musk kicked up a bit as we got closer to the ponies, but before we got too close, a man stepped in front of me, blocking my path. He was tall, at least a head above even Skye in her heels. He had silvery gray hair and a big 'fuck-off' mustache that started at his upper lip and ended below his clean shaven jaw. His eyes were equally gray and he had bushy eyebrows to match.

He looked like he could have been the Marlboro man, with one exception: Below his leather cowboy hat, shading his eyes from the morning sun, beneath his button shirt and rawhide jacket, and above his worn in cowboy boots, complete with spurs, the dude had no pants on. Instead, like every other male employee in the zoo today, he wore a safari print adult baby diaper; and he wore it with confidence.

"Now just hold on a minute thar pardner," he bellowed in a thick Texas accent. "Let ol' Tex set ya up." I stopped dead in my tracks, gaping in awe. With a long full wave of his arm he beckoned us follow him to a little piebald pony in the back. It was Skye that nudged me forward and my legs obeyed. The whole every-guy-was-diapered-thing was starting to nag at me, and the waddling cowboy seemed like as good a guy to ask as any.

"Excuse me," I mumbled while we closed the distance to him as he busied himself checking the pony's saddle straps. He made no sign that he had heard me. "Excuse me," I repeated, a little louder this time. He lifted his head and looked at me.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Umm…" I hesitated, "I was wondering…why is every dude that works here wearing a diaper?" I gestured to our dia…to the diapers we were wearing, to make my point. He looked down at his padded crotch, and then to mine. He let out a low, almost bitter chuckle.

"You wanna know why I'm wearing a diaper?" the cowboy straight out of a western, minus the padding, asked me. I nodded, awestruck at how powerful he seemed instead of ridiculous. If someone wrote an adult baby story about someone like him, I'd totally have read it…for comedic relief purposes…and never leave a comment to let the author know I'd read it.

"Boy, when you've seen half the stuff that I've seen in my life, wearing a diaper ain't jack shi-…" he must have caught Skye giving him a disapproving glare, "-ain't nothin'. Beg yer pardon, Ma'am. Point is," he looked back to me, "you play the hand yer dealt, kid."

I nodded. Guy needed a paycheck. Made sense enough.

"Can my girlfriend ride with me?" I jerked a thumb back in Skye's direction. The old cowboy's eyes squinted at me, like he was trying to read my lips or something; like he couldn't quite get the gist of what I was asking.

"You want her to ride with ya?" he repeated my question back at me.

"Yeah," I nodded my head. "Y'know…we're kind of on a date. Help a guy out," I added.

The old man stuck his lip out like he was trying to figure what to say. Then, very slowly, but with an air of finality, he shook his head.

"No can do, lil' buddy," Tex declared. "Won't work." he jerked his own thumb at the pony behind him. "Saddle's not made for two." I leaned sideways and looked past him. The saddle that the piebald pony wore wasn't an ordinary saddle. It had a high backing that you could lean against, with two leather straps, like a belt that hemmed the rider in. It was a saddle meant for kids too young to actually ride!

"'Sides," the old man added, "Lady's gotta skirt on and we don't got no side saddle, and I'm bettin' at least one of you doesn't want everybody hear to know whether she's wearin' panties or not.".

"Ah!" Skye's jaw dropped and she blushed a little bit. "You old perv!" she slapped him on the shoulder. Skye wasn't mad. Not really. I should have been mad for her or at her, I knew, but I couldn't stir the outrage in myself just then. Old dude was funny. "You joke about how I'm dressed?" Skye laughed incredulously. "You're a grown man wearing a diaper!" I spun around, my lip beginning to tremble, my throat getting tighter in milliseconds.

Skye thought I looked ridiculous. She was mocking me. This was all just one big practical joke to her. My knees got weak, and my whole body started to shake. My eyes darted, looking for a place to run away…maybe jump the fence and just dash for the entrance. Undoubtedly Skye would find me in the parking lot, crumpled into a ball on the hood of her car. She had the keys, and I had no money for a cab…not that I'd want anyone to see me like this.

She caught a glimpse of me, and immediately her face contorted with regret. She'd hurt me, and she knew it.

I felt a big heavy hand land on my shoulder. It was the cowboy. "Honey," his baritone rang out. "I reckon there's more material wrapped around my bum than you've got wrapped around your whole body. If anything, me and him are fine. You're underdressed."

Skye stood there for a tense second…then laughed her ass off. "Damn it, heh, heh," she gasped out. "You got me there old timer, heh heh." All the tension went up into the air, mine included. Then she walked to me and kissed me on the nose. "Come on Gavin, ride for me, I'll help you in.", there was a decent thwap as she playfully slapped my plastic encased rear. "Go on and help someone else," she called back to the old man. "I've got this."

"You can walk beside yer boy, like the others, if you want," Tex offered as I put one foot in the saddle. "Ya just can't ride beside him.

"Sounds great," Skye called back. I felt her hand on my rump, boosting me up onto the miniature horse's saddle. "Scoot back, baby," she instructed me, placing her hand on my tummy, as I scooted, making smooth plastic rub against worn leather. The small of my back touched the high barrier of the saddle.

"Hold still, Gavi-kins, lemme buckle you in," Skye grabbed ahold of the belt straps and pulled them taut, just above the diaper I was wearing. "Safety first." I wanted to object at first, and was working on complaining that once again, this is not what she had promised me when I had agreed, but I had to admit, it was kind of neat. With the special backing in the saddle, and me buckled in, my head finally a bit taller than Skye's- if not by much- it felt a little bit what I imagined sitting in a highchair would be like…not that I thought sitting in a highchair would be neat.

The old cowboy running the ride made one last quick circle around the ponies, giving each kid's saddle, mine included, a final check to make sure they were properly strapped in and secured.

"Hyah!" he shouted, as on command the horses started moseying along in a wide circle. I bit my lip, waiting for pointing children and stares that didn't come as my grown ass self was paraded around in a circle with a bunch of rugrats. I stuck out like a sore thumb on that ride, but no one seemed to care one way or another. As I circled around to the entrance gate, all I saw was more mothers and their tots waiting for their turns. No one gave me even a hint of side-eye. Maybe this place really was for the young and the young at heart.

"WEEEEEEEEEE!" A high pitched voice from the horse behind us giggled and screamed. I tried to look over my shoulder, but the straps holding me on the miniature mare stopped me from being able to turn enough.

"That's right, Little Bit," the mother who had been in line with us praised her baby boy, "have fun with it!"

"That's good advice, Gavi-poo," Skye, walking along at a leisurely pace beside me said. "Just have some fun, baby."

"I'mmmmm more of a drink it all in kind of guy," I told Skye. It was bad enough that I was the lone jackass riding a kiddie ride at the zoo. I didn't want to be the lone jackass acting like a toddler. My day was lacking in dignity enough as it was.

"Then drink it all in, Gavi," she teased me, rubbing my thigh with her soft, smooth hands. "Drink it allll in." Playfully she brushed the leg gathers of the diaper as she rubbed my inner thigh. Now this; this was nice.

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Another fantastic chapter. As I recall, there shouldn’t be to much more of this story left. I am looking forward to reading the rest again. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

I closed my eyes and felt her gentle hands caress me, immediately sending me back into the fantasy I'd concocted while waiting in the long line for this. Deprived of my sight, my other senses kicked in, and goose pimples rose on my skin as the wind kicked up a bit. But I wasn't cold. Not really.

The part of me in a diaper was quite warm, actually. Nice and warm. The diaper had begun to swell, now that it had absorbed what I had put into it. It swelled inward as well as outward, so that the warm, soggy, body temperature cloth lining the soft plastic shell reached inward for my loins as well as outward from them.

The slow steady trotting of the tired horse, me it's heaviest load of the day most likely, jostled me up and down, and my penis started accidentally rubbing up against the moist padding. I had always expected a wet diaper to be, well…wetter; all drippy like a towel dunked in a pool, but really, it was subtler than that. It was more subdued.

If you ignored that I was basically stewing in my own pee-pee, it felt kind of nice. It was squishy, and kind of pulpy actually. A little puffy too. Like a warm, wet, hug to my junk in the best way possible. It was a little like…well like sex, really. Oh God, I realized. I think I'd accidentally turned myself on a little bit.

The diaper had stopped swelling, but something inside the diaper swelled up, to my giddy surprise. My member throbbed with pleasure with each hoofbeat causing me to rub up against the perfect storm of heat and moisture going on inside my clothes. Maybe this is why baby boys were so hard to potty train. If I was hardwired for sex, and a wet diaper felt like sex, then it'd be easy to get hard wired into diapers…hypothetically I mean.


"Hey Skye," I grinned down at her. "I think the Baby Formula is really starting to kick in," I winked.

Without wasting a moment, Skye grabbed the front of the wet diaper, giving my dick a firm squeeze through all of the wet padding and plastic.

"Yeah it is," she winked back, seeming pleased with herself. Finally we were on the same page.

"How long do you think it'll last?" I asked her. It'd do no good if I lost wood before we could make something of it.

"Oh," she gave my crotch another playful squeeze in front of everyone, "I think it'll hold for at least a little while longer," she giggled like she was in on some joke that I wasn't privy too. I hoped this stuff gave me more stamina too. With how Skye was looking at me just then, I knew I'd need it.

"Whooooooah!" Tex called out to the ponies much too soon. The horses, from training and habit, almost stopped immediately. "That's it, folks. Unbuckle yer youngin's and dismount.

"You heard the man, baby," Skye reached in and undid the latches on the special buckle. I moved my foot to get out of the stirrups. I struggled and wriggled, but it just wouldn't come loose.

"Hold on, honey," Skye ducked around the the front end of the horse. "Just hold still a second, Gavin," she calmly told me while she jostled my foot out of its prison. "Gotcha!" My foot came loose and I swung my leg back over.

"Gavin?!" Skye cried out. "No! Wait!" But it was too late. I didn't know why, but somehow I lost my equilibrium on the slow, living merry go round.

"Whooooah!" My arms flailed as I started twisting and falling off the horse, writhing in the air towards the dusty ground.

My fall was stopped prematurely as a withered, calloused hand rested against my back, propping me back up.
"Hold still," the old, deep voice commanded. Tex's arm was around my waist, his free hand easily yanking my other foot out of the stirrup.

"You lose somethin', Ma'am?" he said, as he gently put me back on my feet.

"Gavi!" Skye squeed, and started hugging me and looking me over from head to foot as if I had just fallen from a burning building, instead of a midget horse. "Don't ever do that to me again, okay?"

"Okay," I shrugged.

"No," Skye grabbed my chin in her hand, forcing me to look her in her crystal blue eyes, now flashing deadly serious. "Don't do that to me again. Promise me you'll wait for me to help next time." Next time? When would the next time be? It's not like we were going to be doing this kind of thing often.
"I-I-I-I…" I stuttered, just flabbergasted. "I promise." Skye hugged me so hard she pinned both of my arms to the side. Was she? Was she crying a little bit? I just stood there, and let her have her moment, my erection quickly fading as the strangeness of my girlfriend once again reared it's teal and pink head.

"Alright," she breathed a sigh, "let's get going." Skye took my hand and started leading us out of the fenced in ring.

Something else I noticed as we began to walk out of the corral, now that the diaper had absorbed and swollen up, it had definite weight. It felt like I had a little water balloon strapped into my crotch, pulling my pants down a bit. The crotch sagged a little bit, and the front of the diaper swung back and forth, brushing against the inside of my thighs as I walked. I widened my gait a little to compensate, giving me a definitely waddle.

"One pony ride, and you're already walking like a real cowboy, aren't you Gavi-poo?" Skye remarked as I walked bowlegged out of the pony corral.

"Yeah," I nervously laughed as we strolled back into the zoo proper.

"Hey, wait up!" The black woman who was behind us in line called out to us. Skye and I stopped and turned her heads to watch her and little Kevin speed walk to us.

"So, what did you two think?" she asked us, a little breathless. She seemed genuinely excited, like we had all just ridden a roller instead of horses that were too short for any other use besides zoos and birthday parties. "Kevin loved it, didn't you baby?" Kevin, his spare fingers back in his mouth, nodded and giggled playfully.

"Oh it was lots of fun, wasn't it Gavi?" Skye looked and me and then motioned towards our new acquaintances, specifically little Kevin, with her eyes.

"Oh…oh yeah!" I said with lots of fake enthusiasm. "It was loads of fun! Wouldn't have missed it for the world!"

"Or the potty!" Skye added, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. Oh God! She knew! Everybody but me laughed at that one, even the baby. I felt very small right then. I thought I had been so smooth and gotten away with something. Apparently I was the only one who believed I could hide a wet diaper.

As the laughter died down, little Kevin bent his knees. He stuck his rump out a little bit and looked off into the middle distance, concentrating on something we couldn't see.

"Is he?" I asked, pointing at the child.

"I think so," Skye nodded.

Kevin's gaze relaxed and dumb, dopey smile game to his face. His mother patted the back of his diaper and pulled back the waistband to take a look.

"Yup." she smiled. "Well, I don't know about you two, but Kevin and I here are gonna go get a diaper change. Isn't that right, Little bit?' The little toddler nodded his head proudly. Only a mother could smile at the thought of wiping ass, and only a toddler could be proud about dropping a load into his pants. "You two wanna come?" My eyes widened. Was she serious?! What kind of freak invited two people to come along and watch her change her baby?! This lady was toxic!

I looked at Skye, hoping to instantly develop telepathy. 'Please Skye,' I begged with my thoughts, 'I know you do some crazy things, but please not this. Please not this.' Skye looked into my eyes, then down at my crotch, then back up to my eyes.

"No, I think we're good for now," she finally said to the mother and son from crazy town. "See you later?"

"You know it," Kevin's mother said, picking her son up and resting him on her hip. "Maybe we can set up a playdate later or something."

"That'd be cool," Skye agreed. "Later!" she waved, and we parted ways.

"That was a little…intense." I muttered carefully to Skye in case they were still in earshot.

"Hey Gavin," Skye ignored my comment. "How's your diapee?"

"Oh, it's…" I paused. "It's fine. Why?" I spit out a little defensively.

"I just know that it's a little hot out today," she said, walking forward, but still keeping her attention on me by her side, "and those things have a lot of padding. I'm betting you're sweating a lot down there."

"Uh…yeah." I took the bait.

"So, if your wet, or something…because of sweat…or another accident, or whatever," she intoned. "We could always duck into a bathroom and I could change you. Put you in a fresh diapee."

I didn't want a fresh diaper. I wanted to have never had an accident in the first place.

"No," I lied. "I'm good. Thanks for asking though."

"Okay, Gavi-poo," Skye pressed, not sounding convinced in the slightest. "But if you need a diapee change, just let me know, okay? I'd be happy to help you. Strip you down. Wipe you." She reached a hand near my crotch to brush the diaper's front again. Stubbornly, I slapped her hand away.

Skye stopped walking with me. She looked shocked, like I had slapped her in the face instead of her hand; like she had been trying to innocently kiss me instead of grope me in public. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Then opened it again. Then closed it again. Till finally her eyes sparkled with an idea.

"Okay," she said. "How about lunch?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

Part one of a brand new story, "The Chikan" is available on my patreon. Updates and new parts of older stories such as Bad Seed, Naughty Christmas, and Pumpkin Patch will be available on my patreon at least 2 weeks before appearing anywhere else. Please consider supporting me.  https://www.patreon.com/Cute_Kitten

 

"Okay." I mumbled, looking down. I couldn't see my sandals past the bulge of the swollen, soggy diaper. I frowned down at the cartoon animals smiling up at me. I was still smarting from having yet another accident and was in no mood for her fondling. Sure, I enjoyed it on the horse- hell, her rubbing me in a wet, warm diaper felt good. The memory of it sent shudders down my spine. Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy, had it felt good. Until the rush of hormones ebbed and reality sank in. I wet my diaper again. The pleasure had been too good to deny.

I peeked up at Skye. Her good humor seemed restored. "So, Gavi, what do you want for lunch?"

"Um…." I was more focused on the wet diaper swinging between my legs, rubbing my inner thighs and forcing me into a waddle.

"Oh, I know. It's a little different than what you're used to, but you'll like it."

I paused, and tugged on Skye's hand to force her to stop. "Something normal." I put my hands on my hips- my diaper covered hips- and tried to stare sternly up at her. Skye's taste in food was weird as her personality. Perfect example; on one of our dates we were at some weird restaurant Skye had picked- Indian? Asian? Indonesian? I don't really remember- and she drank kopi luwak. Coffee brewed from beans pooped out by a civet.

"Normal is relative. And boring. There's the Safari Food Court with ethnic African food, or the Rainforest Cafe with South American-"

"American normal. Something I'd eat." I pouted. When it came to food, I learned not to trust Skye any further than I could throw a fat sumo wrestler.

"How about these!" Skye chirped, hands under her breasts, lifting them up as she stepped close to me, practically smothering my face in her cleavage.

"Skye!" I blushed and stepped back with a crinkle. "That's not food!"
Skye laughed madly. "To some it is! Babies drink their mommy's milk. That's what these were made for."

I stared at her like she'd suddenly sprouted another head. Did I ever mention that my girlfriend is weird? Was she implying she'd nurse me? That I was a baby because I had an accident…or two….and was now in a wet diaper? More than likely she was just teasing me. "Normal food." I stated again.

"Milk is perfectly normal."

"For a baby. I'm not a baby. No baby food."

"Alright, alright. No baby food." Skye promised with a huff. "We'll get something boring and more American than a drunk redneck." She turned her head and suddenly perked right up. "Oh, hotdogs! That was easy!" The path dipped down to the left and gave way to a small food stall advertising hot dogs, with an outdoor seating area framed by landscaped shrubbery and pretty, seasonal flowers. Pigeons milled about the tables and chairs, pecking at bits of french fries and bun on the ground.

She grabbed my hand and merrily skipped off suddenly, yanking me along. With my swollen, wt diaper I had trouble keeping up. My legs spread wide in a crinkly waddle while her long, sleek legs ate up the ground. How did she move so fast in those high wedge sandals? Between the fast pace and the tugging on my hand, I wobbled, off balance. "Skye!"

"Hm? She slowed unexpectedly and I still wobbled, free arm pin wheeling. She giggled, taking my other hand in hers and steadied me. "There you go, Gavi-poo. I'll go slower so you can keep up."

"I can keep up!" I insisted, cheeks red.

"Sure, sure." Skye just giggled again. We set off, not holding hands. Skye moved fast, almost in line and I sped up too, trying to keep up. I got a pretty good waddle-run going on. I smiled, a small part of myself feeling proud for figuring this gait out. Several strides in and my balance went off-kilter. I wobbled to and fro, diaper swaying heavily between my legs when I lost my balance completely.

"Gavin!" Skye caught me, her slim arms around my thin waist. She steadied me. I blushed, mumbling a quiet thank you. I just wasn't used to moving around in a wet diaper. Skye held my hand, leading me at a calm walk over to the food line. A tiny feeling of security, of safety welled up in me with Skye holding my hand. I frowned, wondering at that feeling. Surely I was a big boy who could walk all on his own. I just enjoyed holding her hand because she was my girlfriend, my Skye. That was all.

I was so busy mulling over all this I barely paid attention as Skye ordered. Two girls manned the hot dog booth; both wore the green t-shirt with the zoo's logo and khaki shorts. No diapers for them. One girl, a curly redhead, leaned over the counter to grin manically at me. "Oh, what a cutie you have!" She gushed to Skye. I blushed and scooted behind Skye. It was rare for girls to flirt with me, and I was never really sure how to handle it.

"I know it." Skye preened, pleased as if the girl had been complimenting her. "We'll take the Mother and Cub special, extra Formula." She ordered then slid over the change as the girl rung her up. I stayed behind Skye for the rest of the exchange, and I didn't pay attention to the tray. I assumed they would be nearly the same. I mean, a hot dog was a hot dog, right?
Wrong, Gavin. Oh so very wrong. Sure, Skye got a regular hot dog. On a bun. With toppings. I got a regular hot dog, too. Except mine was all cut up like a toddler's, served on a paper plate shaped like some zoo animal, and served with a plastic toddler fork.

Skye picked a shady, clean table and set us both up for lunch. I just stared at the tray and crossed my arms while Skye happily dug into her own food. She's tall and slender and quite the successful stripper. And she could eat like a pig sometimes. She wasn't one of those Barbie girls that existed on bottled water and lettuce. If it was good, she'd eat it. That was another one of the things I liked about her; a girl who wasn't afraid of food. I think she just had a high metabolism or she burned it off with all that pole dancing. And I was NOT going to eat that toddler chow. I think I'd rather have civet poop coffee. Maybe.

"Gavi-poo, what's wrong, baby? Eat your nummy hot dog so you'll have lots of energy for the rest of our big day!" Skye cooed, leaning across the outdoor table. The sun shone annoyingly bright in the blue sky; no chance of rain washing out the day.

I scrunched my face up, pushing away the childish paper plate with the colorful blue plastic fork, made wide so that small, unsteady hands could easily grasp it. I wanted a regular round, plain white paper plate like she had. Like all the grown ups had. My cheeks flushed at the thought. I was a grown up, too, even if I was sitting in a slightly damp diaper as childishly colorful as the animal-shaped paper plate. I puffed my cheeks out, refusing to say outloud I wanted a new diaper. Pants. Big boy pants. I wanted my big boy pants because I was a big boy.

"You like hot dogs. If the fork's too hard, just use your fingers, baby." She cajoled in a sing-song tone. "Don't you want to see what Zoo Friend you got?" Her fingers pushed the plate insistently towards me. "Have some milky." She pushed a blue plastic sippy cup with a green lid closer to me.

I pushed them back. "No." My diaper rustled loudly as I moved on the hard metal chair. I crossed my arms and turned my head away. Families sat around us, mostly mothers and their little boys, with a few grandmothers and daddies sprinkled in. The further the day progressed, the more baby boys popped up like dandelions growing wild. Like me, most of them wore just a t-shirt, sandals, and a gargantuan diaper plastered with happy cartoon animals. Some wore just shoes and a diaper. I stared around at the crowd, feeling smaller inside with each passing second, as if I truly belonged with the babies. A few lucky ducks had shortalls with puffy diaper butts and obvious metal snaps in the crotch, but at least their diapers were covered. A few pre-school aged boys near us reluctantly fed themselves using the same despised, childish plasticware and plate I had. Across the outdoor cafeteria seating, a mother opened up her sleeveless blouse and brought her squirming, squalling infant to her breast. The safari print diaper poked out the leg holes of the yellow onesie.

"Gavin." The melodic tone withered to a sharp command as she picked up the fork and speared a dime sized slice of hotdog. She brought it up to my face; the motion made her breasts jiggle gently in her low cut top. The bared swell of creamy flesh immediately snagged my attention with toddler-like fascination. I wanted to look away, but my eyes had a mind of their own. Was it just me, or did they look a little bigger? A little fuller and firmer like they were swelling. A strange craving for milk filled my mind.

My mouth hung slightly open; my lips wet. Was I drooling? Skye shoved the fork between my lips. "Good boy!" She cooed in a happy sing-song voice again. I frowned, but part of me- the same part that got all warm and tingly when I wet my pants then my diaper- glowed with happiness at the syrupy praise.

"Come on, baby, you need to chew." Sky encouraged as I mechanically ground hotdog between my teeth. My gaze stayed focused on the gentle swell of her bosom, mind in a hazy cloud of pleasure from her warm tone and thoughts of milk.

"Here comes the airplane, in for a landing." She dipped and and zig-zagged the fork through the air, making airplane noises as she tried to feed me another bite. I closed my lips, refusing another bite. I was not a baby. She did not have to trick me into eating. A small part of me thrilled at the airplane game. What other noises would an imaginative girl like her come up with?

I mentally shoved those beguiling thoughts away forcefully. "I can do it myself." I insisted, cheeks turning red as I quickly picked up the childish sippy cup and took a long drink of the Baby Formula so she couldn't stuff any more hotdog in my face. It was chill and sweet; the more I drank it, the more it grew on me. Must be an acquired taste.

"Baby, you weren't feeding yourself. We've got lots of fun ahead. Don't you want to see the rest of the animals? I'm just helping you since you're having trouble." Skye smiled, reaching out to ruffle my hair. I tried to duck, but she was too fast. Her hand on top of my head felt…..not that degrading. Almost nice. I could tolerate it. She pulled the sippy cup from my lips mid-swig. Milk dribbled down my lips and chin, dripping onto my shirt. She wiped my face with a napkin then dabbed at my shirt.

"I need to get a bib for my Gavi-poo. Just look at that shirt." She giggled, immensely pleased.

"Hey! Not my fault. You pulled it out of my mouth." I glared at her. She just smiled back and jabbed another piece of hotdog, blithely ignoring my complaints as if I was just a fussy toddler.

"I can't let you chug your milky like that. You'll get a tummy ache. You need to eat your hotdoggy all gone like a good boy!" She cooed some more


I turned my head aside at her attempt to feed me. "I can do it myself." I insisted. A slight breeze picked up, tickling my bare legs. The sensitive skin of my exposed inner thighs prickled in goosebumps; I wished for anything to cover my diaper. Even shortalls with poppers in the crotch and a smiling kangaroo on the bib.

"Okey dokey." Skye smiled with a raised eyebrow, as if she already knew how this was going to end. "But if it doesn't work, then you'll be a good boy and let Mommy feed you."

I blinked. "What?" Surely I had misheard her? The word "mommy" made me feel small and helpless inside. Part of me liked it. The word sprang to my tongue, tempting me to say it. To call Skye "mommy". Mommy Skye. I frowned, shifting awkwardly on the hard metal seat. My diaper crinkled noisily. My diaper. No longer "the" diaper. I had already wet it, my urine laying claim to the padding swaddling me. My diaper and Skye was my loving mommy. The warmth in my tummy-stomach- grew. A bigger part of me shuddered in horror at these thoughts.

Skye smiled so sweet, her eyes glued to me expectantly. "I said, you'll be a good boy and let me feed you. It's okay, baby. I'm sure you can do it all by yourself." She pressed her soft lips to my cheek as she placed the fork in my hand, like a mommy encouraging her toddler to feed himself.

I blushed, dropping my eyes to my plate. Of course I could do it. I was a big boy. The fork was too wide and chunky to hold like a normal fork. I was forced to hold it in my fist like a clumsy toddler. I peeked up at Skye; she continued to watch me, smiling as she ate her own hotdog. Whole, on a bun, loaded with ketchup, mustard, and relish. An adult hotdog. I wanted one like that too. I pouted and jabbed at a round slice on my plate. The little piece jumped forward, pushed by the plastic fork tines.

"That's the cutest thing I've ever seen." She giggled.

My face flamed; I jabbed the hot dog harder. Success. Automatically, I looked up at Skye, beaming with pride. She was still smiling. What was I doing? I looked down in disgust in time to see the hot dog slip off the fork.

I puffed my cheeks out, suppressing a stream of profanities. Normally Skye wouldn't care, but I had an odd feeling she'd reprimand me for swearing today. Probably because of all the babies and kids around.

I threw the fat blue fork down and grabbed (perhaps pinched?) the hotdog. It was halfway to my lips when it slipped and fell to the ground. My pout deepened. Maybe, in my frustration, I squeezed too hard?

Skye breezily laughed as if she was delighted. "What a determined baby!" She gushed as she dug through the gift bag, pulling out a folded up, small plastic rectangle. She had already finished her hotdog and mango smoothie made with a heavy helping of Mother's Milk. She kissed both my cheeks affectionately, soothing away the frustration and distracting me. When she sat back, I realized something was around my neck. I looked down to see a happy cartoon lion smiling up at me from a plastic white rectangle. I was wearing a bib.

My eyes widened as I stared down at my chest. I blushed again, curling in on myself and sneaking a self conscious glance around. Nobody- no mommy, no kids- batted an eyelash at the sight of a grown, diapered man in a bib. It was the same lack of reactions I'd experienced when first diapered. It was as if the world saw me as just another toddler in a bib and diaper. Pre-school boys fed themselves, gloomy in their happy cartoon animal print diapers. At least they could feed themselves and did not need bibs. Jealousy ate at me, so I looked away with a soft snort. Jealous of a preschooler. What the hell was wrong with me?

"It's okay, Gavi-poo. You did your best." Skye cooed, kissing the tip of my nose. I smiled back reflexively. She fed me a bite of hotdog; she had no trouble with the fork. That's how the rest of our lunch went. Skye was deliriously happy, in her element. She cooed at me, plastering my face with sloppy kisses and making silly faces as she fed me. Defeated, I cooperated, barely tasting the food; I was absorbed by the loving attention she showered on me.

Over her shoulder, I saw the bushes near our small table rustle. A female peacock darted out. The peahen's plumage was mostly brown, the infamous vibrant peacock colors only a faint ring around her neck. She pecked at the hotdog on the ground, snapping it up in her beak then dashing back to the bush. Diapered toddlers just stared, like I did. They did not squeal or clap like I would have expected of youngsters. Mommies cooed excitedly to their babies, pointing the large birdie out.

A peachick poked his head out of the bush. His downy feathers were brown and white with faint speckles of vibrant blue and green; a promise of future splendor. He pecked at the hotdog his mommy held in her beak, as if he were a fully grown bird trying to steal it. The peahen pecked him sharply on the head; then very reluctantly, he opened his beak and hungrily chirped like a baby bird should. The peahen ruffled her feathers in approval and dropped the hotdog into her baby's beak.

Was that normal bird behavior? Before I could ponder the strangeness anymore, Skye wiped my hands and face with something cold and wet. A baby wipe, just like she'd used to clean me with down there. In my diaper area. I shuddered at the thought, partly repulsed but another part of me knew it was true. Warmth bubbled in my stomach as I acknowledged it. Not my crotch- my diaper area.

Skye took my bib off, stuffing it back into the bag. "Come on, Gavi-kins. There's still so much more to do." She gently but firmly took my hand, guiding me to my feet. She smiled at me, her heart in her eyes, all soft and warm. She was truly happy to be here with me in this moment. My insides warmed in response. For a moment, I forgot all about my diapers and being babied. All that mattered was being with her, our hands clasped and hearts beating as one. I crinkled along at her side, feeling content and at peace within myself.

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11 hours ago, RambleLamb said:

This story is so wonderful, it truly is a masterpiece in the arena of slow burn mental regression. All the likes for you!

Aww thanks. :)  I'm glad you're enjoying the story. A lot of the pacing is due to Personalias's plotting genius. 

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1 hour ago, vended said:

You're too humble. :)

 

Do you know if he's doing well, by the way? It's been a while since I've read of him. 

Thanks. :50_EmoticonsHDcom:    Personalias is on hiatus- he posted a note on his deviant art account back in December.  It basically said (I'm paraphrasing here)  he's got some personal stuff going on and he's taking time off to focus on that. 

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  • 1 year later...

Crapperdoodles, I thought I finished reposting this. So, posting time.  I hope everyone has been staying safe and taking care of themselves. 

Also, shameless plug time:  If you have Kindle Unlimited on Amazon, you can read my new stories for free anytime you like. (There's diapers and beach fun with Beach Baby and Summer Swim, romance with Secrets To Keep, Fae magic in The Rainbow's End, and a serial killer thriller in Daddy's Girl.)  See my profile for links to each story.  https://www.amazon.com/C-K-Kat/e/B07WQHB9RR/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Personalias is on patreon, where you can check out his latest stories.  https://www.patreon.com/personalias

 

 

“So, what should we do next?” Skye said as we wandered away from the lunch area. She looked around, talking more to herself than me, as if she was a mother with a toddler unable to decide such things.  I was used to her impulsive decision making. In our relationship, she was the more assertive and I was usually content to follow her lead. My ideas for dates were always predictable- dinner at a nice, normal restaurant and some chick flick that bored us both- Red Robin and Nicholas Sparks’ latest hit.  Her idea of a romantic date: pita bread, hummus and a hot air balloon. Have you ever had sex in a hot air balloon, hundreds of feet up in the air? Yeah, that’s why I was usually happy to follow Skye’s weird ideas. I did say no to some things. LIke the Valentine’s Day when she wanted me to go sky-diving. Bungee jumping had the same results.   Wetting my diaper on the pony ride, feeling the animal’s muscles shift and sway beneath me, rubbing that swollen, warm and wet padding all over me….I shivered, remembering the pleasant sensations. That was even better than the hot air balloon. 

 

A daddy pushing a stroller passed us.  It was a simple, classic and sensible umbrella stroller, not one of those overpriced SUV sized monstrosities that some morons with more money than sense bought. The print on the canvas seating was the same as the toddler’s diaper; white background with colorful happy safari cartoon animals.  The diaper was the only thing the blonde haired boy wore; well, his diaper and a pair of blue plastic sunglasses with little smiling zebras on the corners. He happily licked at a melting ice cream cone. Drops of runny vanilla smeared all over his mouth and cheeks and chin and dribbled down his chest.  He swung his bare feet contentedly, looking very comfortable in his stroller as his huge father pushed him along. I wondered what that would feel like, to sit in a stroller and have Skye push me. My cheeks blazed at the thought. What was I thinking? I was….just a little curious...and the little boy looked very comfy….I stared until his dad’s shadow fell over me; then I shrank, side-stepping with a loud crinkle, closer to Skye. 

 

I peeked up at the boy’s father, tilting my head back. Damn, the man was huge.  He looked like he could wrestle a bear and win. Unlike the muscular douchebag from the entrance gate, this guy’s muscles came from whatever his day job was. He didn’t work out to look good; he looked good from life. These weren’t show muscles; they were working muscles.  Tall and wide and just huge. His head was shaved; he wore a floppy, somewhat dorky khaki hat, dark sunglasses and a thick mountain-man beard. Like the guys on Duck Dynasty.   

 

I couldn’t help but  quickly glance at his crotch; he was the only unpadded male I’ve seen today.  Of course he wasn’t wearing a diaper. He was a daddy, a grown up. I frowned, confused at those stray thoughts. Then I caught him glance appreciatively at Skye with a slow nod of his head.  Skye smiled back. Both me and the little boy in the stroller frowned. The man didn’t look like he was flirting with Skye; I couldn’t see his eyes because of the sunglasses, but his head was raised like he was looking at her face, not her boobs or the curves of her body. 

 

“What a cute baby you have. All that blonde hair!” Skye complimented the dad on his baby. “He looks like he’s having a good time.” 

 

The man laughed, a deep belly laugh.  His dorky had flopped. With as huge as he was, towering even over Skye, no one would dare laugh at him.   “He’s really enjoying the day. Yours is a little shy, eh? Better not leave him in that wet diaper too long; they get rashes so easily in the heat.” 

 

My jaw dropped open; my entire face went red as the man looked at my crotch. My saggy, visibly wet crotch. I crinkled to Skye’s other side, away from the man, and took her other hand. How dare he! He talked like I was just another little baby. Was he trying to emasculate me in front of my girlfriend? I opened my mouth to object, words strangled by embarrassment. Only a garbled squeak came out. Skye smiled and patted my diapered bottom; the plastic crinkled noisily under her touch. 

 

“It was just a little tinkle when he was riding the ponies. He’s good for a little longer. We just got done eating lunch.”   

 

The man smiled at Skye’s words, giving me a knowing look.  He just nodded his head at Skye. “You got lucky. We head an early brunch; in the middle of feeding my little boy his baby food when he had a diaper blow out.” 

 

  “Dada!” The little boy’s face went red just like mine had. He  tilted his sunny blonde head back, arching his back, straining against the simple lap belt holding him in place. A little bit of drool ran down his chin to mix in with melted ice cream. He continued to talk, but it was all baby babble. 

 

Skye laughed in delight as the baby scolded his daddy. She bent down to the boy. “He just learning to talk? What a little chatterbox! My Gavi-kin’s is more on the quiet side.”  There it was again. Being mistaken for a kid….unless I was just being teased for being a grown man in a diaper. Just like the clowns and male workers. One big, run on joke. That was something Skye would enjoy. 

 

“Yupp, said his first word today.” The man beamed proudly and ruffled his baby’s hair. 

 

I tugged on Skye’s hand. The joke was getting a little old for my taste. I was in a diaper. So were a lot of other guys. Big deal. So what?  “Let’s get some ice cream.” 

 

The man tilted his head to one side. “Iweam?”  He stared at Skye as if expecting a translation. 

 

Skye said nothing; she just stood there with a cat ate the canary grin on her face, as if she was really enjoying this. 

 

I felt like kicking that mountain right in his shin.  Not that I ever would- I’m not suicidal. I pouted down at the ground so I wouldn’t glare up at him. That would be like poking a pitbull with a stick. I shivered at the thought. I just wanted to get away before I did something stupid. Like poke my tongue out at a man who could squash me. I’d be mincemeat in a New York minute.  I tugged on Skye’s hand again. “Please, Skye. Let’s go get icecream.” 

 

The man stared at me some more then chuckled in amusement. “That’s adorable. ‘Iweam Peese”  I almost wish my little guy was at that stage.”  

 

This jackass really was taking it too far. I blushed and tugged harder on Skye’s hand. 

 

Skye sighed. “Okay, okay, I’ll get you some ice cream.”  She looked at the man and shrugged. 

 

He laughed and waved her off. “Yeah, I know how it goes”  He looked down at his little boy in the stroller then started walking again. 

 

“Skye!” 

 

“Okay.” She giggled. “You’re impatient. You really want some ice cream, huh? Got some more room in that tummy, huh?”  She poked me in my belly, right on the front of the diaper. Her finger pushed in with a crinkle. 

 

“Skye!” I pulled my shirt down. She just poked me higher.  I brought my hands up to block her; she dodged and poked lower again. I slammed my hands down but she was too fast for me, poking me here and there with both hands now. I squirmed, giggling. Then Skye’s hands suddenly grabbed me by my arm pits and swung me around in a circle so fast my feet left the ground as I laughed, my tummy flipping and flopping around.  

 

“There’s my happy boy!” Skye cooed once she set me back down.  She held onto me, her hands on my shoulders, until she was sure I had my balance. Then she took one of my hands. “Come on, the daddy and baby came from this direction, so the ice cream place must be around here somewhere.” 

 

We passed a few more animal exhibits but they were all too crowded to get a good look at the animals, such as kangaroos, camels, buffalo, and pandas.  Right after the pandas, we found the ice cream cart amid a grove of bamboo. We joined the small line. “Oh, goody, this is gonna be a special treat.” Skye chirped.  I looked at the cart but with all the people around I couldn’t really see. Once we moved up closer in line, I saw the sign reading “Today’s special: Mommy Milkshakes and Cub Cones”.  I groaned, remembering the Zoo Friends lunch plate. Just what fresh horrors compromise the Cub Cone?

 

None, it turned out. The cub cone was just creamy sweet Baby Formula deliciousness in a small cone. The only downside was the bib Skye tied around my neck. “Skye.” I whined in protest but she just shushed me. 

 

“Do you want to be like that drippy baby in the stroller? Well, I could always take your bib and shirt off. Your shirt’s already messy enough, but you could go around in just your diapee while you eat. I’ll just clean you up with some wipes.”  Skye chirped.  

 

I stared at Skye like she was nuts. Bib, or run around in just my diaper?  Neither one was appealing….but I’d take the bib over diaper streaking any day. Well, my diaper was already showing, but with my shirt on it was almost, sort of like wearing shorts. Not really, but it felt like it.  Running around in just my diaper….that was something little babies did. The baby in the stroller could barely even talk. 

 

“Was his daddy checking you out?” I squinted up at Skye as a little drop of Baby Formula ice cream dripped down my chin and onto my bib. I blushed. I had to focus on eating my treat or it would melt. 

 

“You silly baby. See, the bib was a good idea after all.  I’m not his type, not at all. Trust me.” Skye sucked down her Mother’s Milkshake.  She didn’t get any drops on her.  

 

 We sat down in a small bamboo grotto a little further down from the ice cream cart.  Bamboo grew tall, the reedy branches intertwining to create a small, green cave. A tinkling little fountain was surrounded by benches.  Skye sank down elegantly in one fluid motion, crossing her legs. I plopped down next to her with a loud crinkle, wobbling a little as my padded posterior hit the cool stone bench. 

 

The cone slipped from my grip; my hand was a mess with melted ice cream and the force from sitting down caused me to drop it. Skye caught it easily; she held the sticky cone gingerly between two fingers.   “Here, Gavi. Let me hold it so it doesn’t fall again.” Her voice was warm, but her face was wrinkled in distaste at the sticky mess.  

 

“Your face looks silly. I can hold it.” I reached out with my hand; it was already a mess anyway. Might as well finish with it. 

 

“No.” Skye almost cringed. She put her milkshake down and caught my wrist with her free hand, as if she didn’t want melted, sticky ice cream all over her.  

 

I giggled at her reaction, at the funny faces she was making as she grimaced, pulling away from my outstretched fingers.

 

“Gavin. Let me hold it for you, sweetie.”  

 

“Oh, alright.” I pouted, relenting. It was nice to be able to tease her, for once.  I dropped my hand and she sighed in relief. We quietly finished our desserts. Skye was done before me. My cone was small, but my belly was still full of hotdog. It gurgled as chewed up hotdog and Baby Formula digested and churned within. 

 

Once my cone was all gone, Skye got out a baby wipe and cleaned my hands. My lips, chin, and cheeks were still smeared with ice cream.   She ran the cool, cloth-like wipe over each finger, determined to wipe away every last trace of melted sticky mess. She concentrated hard, her face close to mine. That’s when I got a wonderfully wicked idea. Just like I’d had with the baby goat at the petting zoo.   

 

I darted forward suddenly and planted a big, sloppy smooch on her cheek then sat back, giggling like crazy. Her cheek now sported a large, sticky smear on it, a token of my affection. Her face froze in horrified shock.   I laughed so hard my belly hurt and I would have fallen over if Skye wasn’t holding my wrist, in the middle of cleaning my hand.    

 

Her face almost clouded over in annoyance then she was laughing. “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” Her voice was warm with affection then she blew a raspberry on my sticky cheek. I shrieked with laughter; even on my cheek it tickled.  The crinkling of my diaper was just background noise I ignored. I squirmed, feet kicking as she tickled my sides. I managed to wiggle free and slide to my feet. Soon as the sandals of my soles hit cement, I took off, still giggling. “Skye, can’t catch me!” I stuck my tongue out at her, teasing her.  I ran a few steps then stopped, looking back to see if she was following. 

 

Skye still sat on the bench. I stuck my tongue out again, but she just calmly gathered up our garbage. I blew a raspberry at her.  She stood up; I jumped, ready to run, but she turned calmly to the garbage can just outside of the bamboo grotto. 

 

“Hah, you know you can’t catch MEEEEEE” My taunt ended in a squeal of surprise as Skye suddenly lunged toward me with her arms outstretched. I jumped, feeling a little spurt of warmth into my already soggy diaper. I barely paid attention, more focused on avoiding Skye’s reach. I walked backwards, just beyond her finger tips. 

 

“I’m gonna get you, Gavi-poo!” She called in a playful mock threat. She made a monster face and twisted her hands into claws as she lunged again. 

I laughed, wobbling a little as I walked backwards. “Missed me!” I turned and walked ahead, picking up speed. My wet diaper swung between my legs, weighed down from my urine. It swung back and forth like a pendulum as I waddle-ran in an awkward gait. I took no more than half a dozen steps when my balance wobbled and my knees suddenly buckled.  The ground rushed up to meet me; all I could see was cement. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact and the pain of freshly scraped and blood skin. 

 

“GAVIN!” Skye cried, true horror and worry in her voice. Then her arms were around me, squeezing me tightly as she lifted me up. One moment I was nearly horizontal with the ground, the next I was vertical once again, Skye squishing me close in a hug and running her hands through my hair. She pressed little worried kisses to my forehead and cheeks. “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.” She sounded as if she was more scared than I had been. I never knew carefree Skye was such a worry wort. 

 

“I’m okay. I didn’t get hurt.” I said in confusion. My heart beat against my ribs from the adrenaline rush. It had all happened so fast my mind was still catching up with the events. One second I was falling, the next I was not and Skye was there, smothering me in her concern. “Really, I’m okay.” 

 

“I know, baby. I made it in time. “ Skye’s voice was still shaky with anxiety. After a final hug, she let me go and took one of my hands. “But I want you to stay close to me from now on, okay?” 

 

“But why did I lose my balance? The ground is flat and my sandals are like sneakers.”  I lifted one foot to show her, and suddenly I wobbled again. Skye held me steady. I would have tipped right over if she wasn’t holding me. I frowned.  My sandals had sturdy, grooved rubber soles perfect for walking.  

 

“W-what’s going on? This is weird!” I pouted in frustration. Sure, I was not the most coordinated or athletic person out there, but even I could manage to lift my foot and run. “Maybe….maybe it’s my...my diaper?”  I whispered the last part with pink cheeks. 

 

“It could be. It’s pretty thick and you’re not used to it yet. Plus it’s been a very busy day. I bet you’re legs are just tired.”  Skye reassured me, kissing both of my cheeks. 

 

“Maybe.”  Still, it didn’t feel quite right. Skye had been walking around in those high sandal wedges. The damn things were practically stilettos. She hadn’t lost her balance once!  Then again, she made a living swinging around, climbing and gyrating against a pole on a stage in stilettos. She was used to it. I was not used to the thickness of the swollen padding forcing my inner thighs apart and giving me a new waddling gait. I mean, I was comfortable in my diaper but my muscles were still getting used to it. 

           

“Let’s go sit down for a bit. We can catch a show!” Skye announced cheerfully.  I had been blindly following her, lost in my own thoughts as we turned onto a new path and left the bamboo behind.

 

 

“Huh?” I looked up at her then followed her gaze to the outdoor stage up ahead, surrounded by rows upon rows of backless benches in a seating area.  “Um...maybe….what kind of show is it?” I asked doubtfully as she walked over anyway. 

 

“Probably something with animals. It doesn’t really matter. You need to sit down before you fall down, Gavi-kins.” Skye blithely led me to the nearest bench and smoothly slid into her seat. She held my hand, guiding me and wrapping an arm around me as I sat down with a loud crinkle and squish of my wet diaper. 

 

“Skye. I’m not tired.” I protested.  She kept her arm around my waist; she just pulled me closer to her, snug up against her side. 

 

“Sure.” She agreed easily. “But I’m comfortable, and now I’d like to see the show. Aren’t you curious?”  

 

I stared ahead at the faded, weathered wood, looking for any signs or clues about what the show was. The curtains were tattered and filthy even from a distance.  The zoo really needed to upgrade. 

 

“I guess.” I mumbled. Her body was warm and soft; I laid my head on her shoulder and relaxed against her.  She kissed the top of my head. From this angle I got a good view of her breasts. They really did look bigger than I remembered. Maybe she was wearing a push up bra? But there was an aching fullness to them that no bra or boob tape could recreate. I bit my lower lip as the strange urge to suck washed over me. Skye’s hand rested on my padded hip; she absently ran her fingers over one of the diaper tapes then started patting the front of my diaper. The wet, swollen interior squished over my privates pleasantly and I sighed, smiling happily. 

 

Just then the speaker crackled, full of static and feedback.  It died once, then started up again, much more clear.


 

  “DEAR PATRONS,” the speakers mounted on rickety looking stage blared.  “THE CREEPY CRITTERS SHOW IS ABOUT TO BEGIN. PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH THE ANIMALS UNLESS INSTRUCTED TO BY THEIR HANDLERS OR MAKE ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENTS THAT MIGHT FRIGHTEN THEM.  THEY WILL BE MORE AFRAID OF YOU THAN YOU ARE OF THEM. PLEASE BE WARNED THAT THE FIRST FIFTY ROWS ARE THE SPLASH ZONE.”  

 

A lot of the adults chuckled at that.  Skye and I were in the very back, and I glanced at our row.  “Row 49” it read. Ah, that’s the joke.

 

“FINALLY,” the pre-recorded message ran, “PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH CREEPY THE CLOWN.  YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHERE HE’S BEEN. NOW...HEEEEEEEEERE’S CREEPY!”  A clown in a lab coat and a stark white mad scientist wig entered the stage from behind the withered looking curtain, to a smattering of applause, and pre-recorded organ music and lightning. 

 

   His stark black and white makeup made him look more mime-ish than clown.  His lab coat, which had probably been white at some point, was spray painted in streaks of red, blue, and neon green.   Honestly, he looked more like a member of the Insane Clown Posse than anything you’d remotely consider funny. It wasn’t even close to Halloween.  Why would they even have this attraction year round?  

 

Like every other male employee working there today, his lab coat was wide open to reveal a safari print diaper with smiling cartoon animals on it.   

 

 “Ladies and gentleboys!” his pack-a-day croon send shudders down my spine.  “Welcome to the Creepy the Clown’s Creepy Critter Cavalcade!” Applause echoed through the amphitheatre, bouncing off the rickety looking stage.  “I of course, am the aforementioned Creepy the Clown, and I have the best job of any clown in the whole park! I get to scare little kids!” He looked down at a poor kid in the front row and began growling and barking.  The little boy was unimpressed, and sat there with his arms crossing his chest. 

 

“Okaaaaay…” the clown in the lab coat paused, “We’ll work on that.”  The sound of him clearing his phlegmy throat echoed from his headset and through the speakers.  “But,” the clown went on, “it’s not just about scaring the pants off of people. It’s also about educating them.  Many of our creepy little friends that you will be seeing today are simply...let’s say misunderstood, and it is my sincerest hope that by the end of this show, you’ll find some of these animals a lot less scary.”

 

  “Well,” he seemed to consider for a moment, “maybe not a lot less scary; but a tiny bit less so.  But I can’t do this alone.  I am simply your charmingly creepy MC this afternoon.  The real hard work is going to be done by my lovely assistant.   If you took the tram ride this morning, you know her, you love her; if you didn’t you’re about to; ladies and gentleboys, please allow me to introduce the woman on this show that actually knows what she’s doing: RAAAAAAANGER RHONDA!” 

 

   The tour guide from earlier that day her, mousey brown hair in a bun sans pith helmet, jogged out onto the stage carrying a light blue, thin cardboard box.  It looked like something you might deliver doughnuts in.  

 

   “Well, Rhonda,” Creepy the Clown addressed her, “what do you have in there?”

 

   “Well, that’s a secret right now,” Rhonda replied in obviously scripted dialogue. 

 

   “Is it a...creepy critter?” the Clown asked, sounding genuinely excited.  Clearly he was the better actor in this bit.

 

   “Nope,” Rhonda smiled, shaking her head.  

 

   “Well what’s in it?!”  Creepy asked, seeming more agitated and anxious with each passing second.  

 

   “You’ll never know,” Rhonda puffed her chest out.  “This is a clown-proof box.”

 

   “A clown-proof...a clown...a clown-proof box?!”  Creepy half-shrieked. “That’s no fair, Rhonda! No fair at all!”  Rhonda just shrugged. The clown turned around in a huff, every move, every facial expression exaggerated so that the people hiding in the back rows could tell what he was doing.

   The clown marched to the pre-schooler in the front row, the one who had had his arms up in the front row.  He grabbed the child roughly by the wrist and whirled him around onto the stage.  

 

   “You!” he pointed to the kid once he stopped spinning.  “You’re not a clown!  You open the box!”  The boy looked back to his mother, who waved him on, and then approached Rhonda. Rhonda bent over so the kid could reach the box. 

     

     Just as the kid was bending over, the edge of his diaper peeking up over his shorts, the lid popped open.  

 

  “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” the kid shrieked jumping back on his heels.  The little boy lost balance and fell to his butt. Bawling and wailing, he stared down at his crotch.  “NOOOOOO!” he began pawing impotently at the front of his pants, pressing down on his privates and curling into the fetal position.  

 

   His mother came onto stage and scooped him up, now with fresh tears and likely a not so fresh diaper.

 

  Rhonda opened the lid more so we could all see what the tot had.  “I said that there wasn’t a creepy creature; and there isn’t.  There are many.” Even from the top row, I could see the black, squirming mass of disgusting insects crawling over each other in the boxes. 

 

 “Madagascar hissing cockroaches everyone!”  The diapered clown announced. “Why don’t you tell us a little bit about these buggers, Rhonda?”

 

Rhonda happily complied.  She reached into the box and held up one of the roaches. It was huge, about the size of her thumb, with a brown butt and long, wiggling antennas. Its butt wriggled as it let out an agitated hissing noise.  “These moody little buggers are one of the largest cockroach species. They’re from Madagascar and they love to nest in rotting logs. There’s three types of hisses. The first one is what this little cutie is doing. The disturbance hiss, which basically translates to “hey buddy, back off”.  Next up is the mating hiss, when the males try to flirt with the females. Then the fighting hiss. Two guys fighting over one lucky lady. Now, Mommy Roach carries her babies around in a sack until they hatch. Unlike some bugs, Mommy and Baby Roach often remain in close physical contact for long periods of time.”   

 

   “Skye, what kind of show is this?” I whispered over the speech Rhonda was giving.  “That was a mean trick to play on a little boy.”

 

   “Oh lighten up, Gavi-poo,” Skye whispered back.  “It was all in good fun. Besides, he’s in good hands, now.”  Over in the side of the stage, the little boy was being cradled by his mother, sucking his thumb as she gently rocked him; smiling warmly.  She patted the front of his crotch and whispered something to him before she gave him a light kiss on the forehead. “All’s well that ends well.”  

 

   “Now for this next creepy critter,” the clown rasped into his headset, “we have a perfect photo opportunity for a lucky boy or girl in the audience.  Who wants to come on down?”

 

   Mothers grabbed their children’s hands and raised them up into the air, waving them around, volunteering their pride and joys as the next victim for this macabre sideshow.  I felt Skye’s slender fingers grip my wrist.

 

   “OVER HERE!” She called, waving my hand frantically into the air.  “OVER HERE! PICK HIM! PICK HIM!”  

 

   “Skye?!” I hissed, “What are you doing?”

 

    “Gettin’ you up on stage, big boy,” she grinned.  “Come on, don’t you wanna show me how brave you are?”

 

    “Oh come on!” I whined, “this is a baby show!  No way I’m going up there.”  

 

   “Does that mean you’re scared?” her grin took on a more sinister glint.  

 

   “Yes!  You there!  In the back!”  The clown called out.  “Come on dooooowwn!” I was a deer in the headlights.

 

   “Go on, Gavi-poo.” Skye encouraged me while scooting me off of my spot on the bench.  “Go get ‘em, big boy.” My stomach lurched and began to gurgle as I stood up and descended the steps towards Creepy the Clown.  I was out in the open, yet trapped at the same time. 

 

    “Hurry up, hurry up.  Don’t be shy!” he called out.  “While we’re all young….” he stopped and looked around.  “Poor choice of words.”

 

   My diaper swung and swayed slightly with each step down to the stage, the front weighted ever-so-slightly because of my pee-pee in it.  I waddled like a cowboy until I was standing, front and center, face to face with the diapered clown. I’d been trying to avoid his kind all day, but Skye had taken that choice away from me. 

 

   “Nice duds, dude,” the clown gestured to my diaper.  “Looks like you’re really getting into the spirit of things today.”  There was some laughter from the audience. I grinned nervously and beared it.   

 

    “Name’s Creepy the Clown,” he extended to shake my hand.  I eyed the buzzer in his hand and declined to shake his hand.  “Smart man,” he showed the buzzer to the crowd and more appreciative laughter rang out.  “That normally gets ‘em. You must be one of the smart ones. What’s your name, little buddy?”

 

    I opened my mouth to talk, but Skye shouted out before me,  “His name’s Gavin!” 

 

    “Gavin?!” exclaimed the idiot with the grease paint. “I just met somebody with that name...right here!  Small world isn’t it, Gavin?” I just smirked and rolled my eyes.

 

   “Though seriously, Gavin,” the clown joked, “I’m kind of embarrassed.  If I had known we’d be wearing the same thing,” again he pointed back and forth to our diapers, “I would have worn something else.  This is why we should coordinate more. Didn’t you see my status update on instagram?” More laughing filled my ears.

 

    “But to be fair, Gavin, I’m pretty sure I was wearing mine first, so maybe you should do the honorable thing and go and get changed.”  I heard Skye’s giggling waft down from the top row in the stands.  I took that as my cue and started to walk off stage.

 

   “Noooooot so fast, little buddy,” the clown’s fat meaty hand came down on my shoulder.  “You’re not getting off with just a few yucks and a joke. No one gets off that easy, on my show.  Good try though. Ranger Rhonda, what do we have for Gavin?”

 

     “We have our very own Biiiiig Bertha!”  Rhonda cheered carrying a large burlap sack over her shoulder.  I had the creeping notion that there was something besides potatoes in that sack.  She opened the sack and then reached in and pulled out a long...scaly...vomit green with rotted log spots...thick as my thigh,snake.  

 

I froze.  

 

   “Bertha is a nearly fully grown burmese python!”  The stage shuddered with each step Rhonda took toward me.  I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to grab a fire axe and decapitate the legless monster that was even now being bought up to me. 

 

   “Burmese pythons are among the top five biggest snakes in the world,” Rhonda spoke into her headset, her voice echoing through the ampitheatre.  “Now, like all constrictors, burmese pythons are nonvenomous. Instead they kill their prey by wrapping around it and squeezing the life out of it ”  That’s when I felt the rough, scaly skin of the apex predator brush against the back of my neck.

 

  I was only vaguely aware of the tour guide and the clown to either side of me.  They were wrapping this monster around me, setting me up to be it’s next meal. I broke out into a cold sweat as its head swiveled around in the air, a vicious forked tongue probing for its next meal.

 

  “But don’t worry, Gavin,” Rhonda assured me, “Burmese pythons rarely attack humans, though some can get big enough to actually eat alligators.”  My mouth was dry. This thing could eat a friggin’ alligator and I wasn’t supposed to worry?

 

  “A common misconception about reptiles is their predatory nature,” Rhonda lectured, oblivious to my terror, as the skin crawling monster slithered around on my shoulders, only barely being supported by the two professionals.  My own frail, almost rabbit-like frame bore most of the weight. Didn’t snakes eat rabbits? “Most burmese pythons only need to eat once every month or so, and the bigger they get, the less often they need to eat.”  

 

  “Hey Rhonda,” Creepy the clown asked, “how long has it been since we fed Big Bertha, anyways?”

 

  “Well, you were supposed to feed her last month,” Rhonda answered.

 

   “No I wasn’t,” Creepy replied with mock incredulity, “It was your turn.”

 

“I thought it was…” Rhonda sounded worried.

 

“Gavin...buddy,” I heard Creepy stage whisper.  “Don’t move. And if you feel Bertha hugging you...don’t scream...you’re gonna need alllll your air.”  The snake writhed around and made eye contact with me, it’s soulless killer eyes locking with mine.

 

 “Watch this, folks, we actually taught Big Bertha a little trick.”  Creepy took a wand and waved it over Bertha’s head, her tongue dancing in the air barely inches from my nose.  The wand struck Bertha’s snout and the snake opened it’s mouth with an audible hissssssss.

 

   I stared into the pink, ribbed abyss as the leviathan opened its maw right at me.  Too many living things had gone down into that living squirming, pulsating cave and never come back.

 

   My jaw felt like it unhinged itself, mimicking the apex predator lying on my shoulders and staring directly at me, it’s pink mouth spread open to consume me.  I tried to scream in abject terror, but nothing came out. Then something did. It just didn’t come out of my mouth. 

 

   Mushy, sticky, disgusting poop rushed out of me, hitting the seat of my diaper and spread out instantly.  The constant crinkling that had become so much white noise to me that morning and afternoon was drowned out by a thick, sickening, squelching sound, as not quite solid stool collided with the soft cotton lining meant to hold and absorb my pee-pee accidents.  

 

   Uproarious laughter at my shocked expression gave way to pitiful silence as wet farts erupted from my backside in the intervening seconds.  I was pooping my pants, except I wasn’t even wearing pants, and I had a live audience of mothers and their toddlers all watching in shocked silence.

 

   I willed myself to stop, to scream to cover the noise, to run, to walk, to fall down; anything really.  But my body continued to betray me. All I was allowed to do was bend my knees, mutely grunt to myself, and stare off into the middle distance, as I pushed out more and more of my own bodily waste into my seat.   

 

   The weight of the mess practically jerked the back half of my diaper downwards as it sagged with the weight I was putting into it.  I was only, vaguely aware of the snake handler taking “Big Bertha” off of my shoulders as my mess spread first up my crack and ass, and then as gravity took over, down into my taint, and coating my balls with smelly mud-like scat. 

 

 It now felt less like I was wearing plastic backed underwear, and more like a grocery bag full of shit strapped to my hips.  I was dirty. I was vile. I wasn’t even human anymore. I was unclean. And there was an entire audience of people watching me quietly debase myself.

 

  In the front row I saw mothers hide their tittering behind their hands, and even toddlers blushed on my behalf.  Further back, I was keenly aware of manicured fingers pointing at me and slender hands suddenly remembering to check their own babies for accidents in need of changing.  Some of the kids even turned around to look at their parents, clear sounds of objections from their lips and looks of indignation on their faces.


 

  As if they were as bad as the big person shitting himself in public! How insulting!  How ridiculous. They were all younger than me, but bigger than me where it counted.

 

  Up in the back rows, I spotted the little black baby and his mother from the pony ride.  He was giving me the thumbs up with one hand, his other hand jammed back into his mouth, a thin line of drool visible from even where I was standing.  Way to go, he seemed to congratulate me.   Way to go.  I had just gone alright.

 

  An unfamiliar hand, patted my backside, gingerly squeezing the mess I had deposited.  “Uh, I think this guy needs a little help over here.” The clown called out awkwardly from behind me. “Ma’am, could you come get him?”

 

  I needed help.  I needed out of this place.  I needed to go home and cry and forget all about this wretched day.  But most of all, I needed a new diaper. And for any and all of that, I needed Skye.  


 

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Skye climbed the steps, holding out her arms for me. “Come here, baby.” She whispered in a gentle mother’s coo.  The moment my eyes fell on her, I blocked out the crowd, the stage, the creepy clown and even creepier snake. My world shrank to the loving refuge of those blue eyes and the heavy smelly mush pulling my diaper down. 

 

I reached for Skye as my vision blurred.  I took a few shaky steps forward to my haven, Skye’s waiting arms.  My diaper swung heavily with each movement of my hips. My mess shifted, slipping and sliding all over the inside of my diaper. Tears trickled down my cheeks and my legs wobbled. Disgusting. I was so disgusting. Helplessly messing myself like a big...baby.  I whimpered then I felt Skye’s arms around me. 

 

“Shh. It’s okay, baby.” She kissed my forehead, one of her hands prodding at my padded rear. The poopy lumps smushed even more under her pokes and pats. A strangled sob tore its way out of my throat as my legs fully buckled.  She caught me, enveloping me in her embrace. I buried my face in her shoulder, hiding from the world. 

 

A pressure settled on my poop-coated, thickly padded behind, another bar of pressure behind my back then I felt my feet leave the ground. I barely noticed, drowning in fecal covered shame. How could I have done this, and up on stage, too?  Peeing was one thing, but pooping? And I’d never felt it coming. 

 

“Let it out, Gavi-poo. It’s alright. I’ve got you.”  Skye said, so calm and reassuring. Like it really was alright for me to helplessly soil myself.  I heard the clunk of her heels on the wooden stage and felt myself moving. Almost like she was carrying me.  

 

“I’ll get you all cleaned up and in a fresh diapee.” Skye hummed a soft lullabye. Her hand on my back rubbed little soothing circles in rhythm with her humming. Occasionally she patted my bottom, and I felt the huge load shift and squish with each touch.  I whimpered, tears trickling down my cheeks and splashing onto her neck and shoulder. I just wanted out of this horrible mess. 

 

“Sweetie. It’s okay. It was just a little poopies.” Skye said sympathetically. Her hand left my back then I felt a tug on the waistband of my diaper. Air rushed over my feces encrusted butt; I felt the suction of my mess pulling apart like sticky mud as Skye pulled back my diaper and peered down. “Oh dear. You really gave that diaper a workout. Let’s get you changed before that thing explodes.”  

 

The surprise and worry in her tone took me by surprise. What was wrong? I wanted  her humming, her reassurance back. Just a little mess, right? All I needed was a new diapee. No problem. Just a little diaper change. Happened all the time, right? But not to big boys. Not to me. Except it had happened to me. Was I still a big boy? I sobbed softly.  I wanted to voice all these thoughts but they knotted up in my throat, choking me in emotions. All I could do was cling to Skye. 

 

“Shhh. It’s okay, baby. I got you. We’re almost there.” She kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back some more. She didn’t pat my bottom anymore and her pace quickened.  I heard voices of the crowd around us, but it was just a buzzing in my ears, background noise. White noise I barely noticed. 

 

My face stayed buried in her shoulder as she hurried along while trying to soothe me.  The background noise of the open air, animals, and people faded suddenly as Skye stepped through a door.  The smell of pee, poop, and baby powder dominated the air and her heels clicked off tiled floor, echoing off walls. 

 

“Here we are!” Skye cheered enthusiastically.  I suddenly found myself pulled from her embrace. I whimpered in protest of the loss of contact.  I wanted her warmth, her soft skin, her arms around me, shielding me from the world and the horror I put into my own diaper. She tried to soothe me with a kiss, her soft lips getting wet from the tears on my cheeks.  

 

At the touch of the soft plastic padding of a changing table on my back, I opened my watery eyes to see Skye smiling down at me. I felt a tug on my waist as she secured the safety strap. We were in a changing room. I vaguely registered the background noise of babies crying and shrieking. 

 

“Let’s take care of that icky poo-poo diaper, Gavi-poo.” Skye chuckled.   I wanted to blush, to holler in protest, but words clogged in my throat. My insides were a storm of turbulent emotions, drowning me. I was sensitive, vulnerable, exposed and raw. Her teasing joke was like salt rubbed into a wound, and all I could do was let out a strangled sob in protest. 

 

My lower lip trembled. I could feel the dam inside me ready to burst then I’d lose what little shreds of dignity I still had left. I bit down on my lip, my thumb pressing into it. I wanted to shove my thumb in my mouth and suck, shut my eyes and shut out the world and hide. I jerked my thumb away, smacking it down onto the changing table’s padding.  My legs lifted into the air and I peeked up at Skye. She just looked down at me with a little smile then went to work cleaning me up. Cold wipe after cold wipe brushed over my butt, removing hand full after hand full of my mess. My own stench melded perfectly with that of the other dirty diapers. Slowly, wipe after wipe after wipe, Skye worked her way from my back end to my front then from my front to my back, leaving no cranny or crevice of my diaper area unwiped. Not a crotch, but a diaper area. My diaper area that had been covered in my poopies.   

 

 I winced at the thought while Skye moved my legs and pelvis around, double checking to make sure she’d gotten all of that mess. I even felt the cool, wet tip of a finger wrapped in a baby wipe poking at the puckered crevice of my butt, dipping into my back door briefly. I gasped, sucking in air, my chest trembling and tight with swirling emotions. 

 

I opened my mouth to try and talk but all that escaped was a painful wheeze and strangled squeak of a sob.  Done wiping me, I heard the familiar crinkle and flap of her opening a new diaper, then my bottom was lifted higher as she slid the fresh diaper under me. Salvation! No more poopy diaper! I should have been happy, or at the very least relieved to be out of that mess. Part of me was. Another part still burned in shame at having messed in the first place. 

 

“Shhh.” Skye started humming again as she worked, rubbing baby powder into each clean cheek, my buttcrack, coating each of my balls and all over my penis and surrounding skin. The she sprinkled some on my lower belly, rubbing little circles on my tummy.  I could feel the love in her touch, the reassurance in her humming tone, but even that couldn’t reach me. My emotions had curled up into a little fetal ball. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I trembled as I lay there. 

 

“Almost done baby. Poopies all gone!” Skye chirped, trying to cheer me up as she brought the front of the diaper up between my legs, positioned it, then deftly secured the tapes like an old pro. How was she so good at this? Just from my diaper changes today? 

 

“Gavin. It’s okay.” Skye soothed, rubbing the front of my diaper.  Her fingers pressed on the tapes securing me into my padded potty. I didn’t look at her.  She leaned down to press a soft kiss to my belly, right above my diaper. Surely she could feel me trembling beneath her lips.  Then she pulled my shirt down and unfastened the safety strap.  

 

I was crying, despite all my willpower as Skye guided me off of the large padded table to my feet. In my blurry, tear streaked periphery, I saw another woman carrying a screaming toddler in just his diaper- one that matched my own...my second one of the day…-and lay him on the padded surface to begin changing him.  She was decidedly non-judgemental about wiping her son’s ass immediately after witnessing a grown man go through a similar treatment.

 

Skye pulled me away onto a nearby backless bench, and pulled me into her lap as I huffed and puffed my way to a temper tantrum.  My diaper-my fresh, clean, dry diaper- rustled as I shifted my weight onto the soft material of her skirt. Her legs felt firmer and fitter than my own just then.  

 

Good.  Even though she was taller than me, biology gave me more than a few pounds on her. Any other time, I would have been conscious of her over myself.  I would have been thinking about how I must be crushing her legs and that they’d be losing circulation within a minute. Normally, I’d be thinking about how after lugging my useless ass through crowds of people to find a place to clean me up after I’d publicly humiliated myself, but right then, I couldn’t.  

 

I was stuck in the moment.  The awful, awful moment. It was like every embarrassing nightmare I’d ever had rolled into one and multiplied by a factor of three.  I had been at the head of the class, about to give my oral report that will determine fifty percent of my grade, and then I’d look down and realize that I was naked. Only naked would have been preferable to what had actually happened.  I’d never shit myself in front of the whole class in my dreams.  

 

 

“Gavi-poo?” Skye whispered to me, rubbing my back tenderly, while busy mothers came in and out to change their crying charges.  “Is everything okay? Are you alright.” I just kept heaving with each breath, my shoulders bobbing up and down uncontrollably. No words would come.  “Gavin, baby. Say something to me.”  

 

That’s when the gates burst inside of me, and I don’t mean my bladder or my bowels.

 

 

“I’M SORRY!” I turned around and bawled into Skye’s shoulder. “I’M SORRY!  I’M SOOOOOO SORRRRRY!” I couldn’t control my emotions, and only short, gasping sentences would come to my lips.  “I...hyuk...DIDN’T...hyuk...MEAN...hya..TOOOOOOO!” The smell of freshly applied baby powder invaded my nose. It was probably me that I was smelling, which made things all the worse.  I hadn’t needed baby powder earlier today. I hadn’t needed diapers today, either, but as of less than ten minutes ago, I had.  


 

Skye’s skin pressed tightly to my own as she embraced me and hugged me harder and harder with each sob.  I was riding pony style on her knee while I cried into her shoulder, her beautiful blonde, pink, and teal hair covering my shame as I cried freely. 

 

“I’M SOOOOO….hyuh...SORRRRRYYY...hyeee...I DIDN’T MEAN TO...hyuh hyuh...EMBARASS YOUUUUUUU!”

 

“Shhhhhh” Skye rubbed my back and bounced me on her knee, trying to soothe me.  “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. I’m fine.” she whispered. “You didn’t embarrass me at all.”  But the truth was, I wasn’t apologizing to Skye. I hadn’t really been talking to Skye right then.  I’d been talking to myself. 

 

“You did nothing wrong,” Skye assured me, still jiggling me lightly on her knee.  “You had a diaper emergency, and like a good mommy, I took care of it.” There was that word again.  Mommy. Why that word?   

 

“Mommy?” I sniffled, pulling back and looking at Skye so I could look her in the eyes.  This time it was her turn to look slightly teary eyed. Only she was smiling instead of bawling.  

 

“Yeah, baby?” She responded, her breath becoming shallow, a look of anticipation in her eyes.

 

“No,” I shook my head.  “I mean, why did you say it like that?  Why like a good mommy?”

 

Skye shrugged noncommittally. The anticipation and satisfaction dashed from her eyes.   

 

“How many girlfriends do you know who wipe their boyfriend’s butts?” she replied, her voice back to a calm casual matter of fact tone.  “It wasn’t very girlfriend like.”

 

“Yeah,” I conceded.  “I guess it wasn’t.” And somewhere in the depths of me, I pondered the question of whether that was a good thing or not.  “Promise you won’t make fun of me for this later?” I sniffled, wiping a string of snot from my nose.

 

“Gavi-kins,” she giggled as if I had just asked the silliest question in the world.  “I’ll never make fun of you, I promise.” And she drew me in and hugged me for the first time all over again.  For an instant we were back in time. Me crying in her arms, her offering me quiet comfort. Only this time she wasn’t in the wrong.  I was. Yet it still ended the same way. Skye never needed comfort. She just gave it.

 

Another piercing scream echoing off of the concrete walls of the changing area ruined an otherwise perfect moment for me.  An older woman, with red hair up in a bun and flecks of gray trudged in dragging along a little red headed freckle-faced boy, maybe three-years old at most.  Even in black slacks, the dark stain on the front of his pants gave away what had happened to him.  

 

“MOMMY!  MOMMY! NOOOOOOOO!” the carrot top screamed.  “PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS TO ME! PLEEEEEASE!” his voice was raggedly becoming scratchy and hoarse from yelling.  He must have been screaming all the way.

 

Mommy?  Mommy? That seemed unlikely.  The lady dragging the screaming toddler behind her was almost as old as my own mother.  Granny, maybe? But Mommy? Adoptions happened, sure, but if this was his biological mother, he must be her miracle baby or something.

 

“PLEEEASE MOMMY!” the little ginger boy screeched, digging his heels in all the way to the changing table across from the bench where we were sitting.  “I’M BIG! I’M A BIG BOY! I’LL BE GOOD! I’LL BE A GOOD BOY!”

 

Her face filled with consternation, the older woman lifted the little pre-schooler up onto the changing table and shoved him down before pulling the strap across his chest.

 

“You had your chance to be a good boy plenty of times already, Tyler.” The greying woman proclaimed staring daggers at what seemed to be her son.  “But you’ve proven that to be a lie too many times to count. And I gave you a chance to prove that you were a big boy,” she gestured to his wet pants, so similar to mine only a few hours ago.  “And look what you did with that opportunity?!” Tyler fell silent, cowed by his middle aged mom.

 

Tyler’s mom reached into her clunky, puffy gift bag and took out a bottle of “Baby Formula”.  From her pocket, she withdrew a baby bottle and poured some of the oversweet drink in before screwing the nipple on.

 

“Now drink this and keep quiet,” she ordered her child, “while I get to work cleaning up yet another of your messes.”  The little redhead took the baby bottle, and suckled obediently while his mom took off his shoes and socks and ripped off his pants.  The kid didn’t have any underwear on.

 

Then, his mother reached into the bag and took out a Rearz Safari diaper.  I rattled my noggin in disbelief. No way was that going to fit on a kid that size!  He’d be enveloped in the damn thing.  

 

I blinked, rubbed my eyes and looked again.  I must have been dehydrated, or something. Too much diapers on the brain.  When I looked again, Tyler’s legs were up in the air, and his mother was sliding a perfectly normal sized but still safari printed diaper under his bum and taping it up. 

 

“Late to the zoo?” Skye inquired, breaking the silence.

 

“Oh yes,” the mother sighed exasperated as she finished putting her pre-school aged son back in diapers.  “Just got here. We would have been on time, but Tyler here couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed and ready on time, just like always.  Well that stops right now,” she wagged her finger at her now crying, diapered, son.

 

“Some boys, y’know,” Skye sighed dreamily.  “They’re just late bloomers and never really grow up, do they?” 

 

“He’s been given a lot of trust, but now he’s losing it,” the middle aged mom enunciated so that her son could understand every word.  “If you can’t keep your pants dry, then you shouldn’t be trusted on what to wear, or what time to go to bed, or what to eat. You’ve earned this, Tyler.”   

 

  The lady reached again into the gift bag and pulled out a pair of shortalls with a little lion on the front. 

 

   Skye scooched me off her lap and onto the wooden bench.  “Oh, you came prepared?” she asked the woman.  

 

  “I figured little Tyler here would have an accident in his pants,” the woman nodded holding out the shortalls for Skye to examine.  Tyler, still on the changing table was suckling empty air from his ba-ba. He started whimpering when presented with the shortalls. “But I got this outfit from one of the gift shops.” she looked at Skye approvingly, like they were two kindred spirits.  Then she glanced at me. “They’re selling them in all sizes, you know?”

 

  Skye audibly gasped with excitement and spun me around to look her in the eyes.  “Gavin, baby, we are so totally going to go shopping!”


 

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My eyes widened. “Sh-shopping?” I wasn’t ready to go back out there. Not after the accident I had. I shivered, pressing against Skye. Even though my diaper was nice and clean now, I could still feel the ghost of the warm, gooey mess squishing all over my backside, and mushing up all over the front, coating my crotch and making my diaper stick to me. 

 

“Yes, baby.”  Skye’s eyes softened to a gentle twilight when she saw my reluctance.  I’d stopped crying and sniffling, but I wasn’t ready to face the world. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me in for a quick cuddle.  “I thought you’d like some clothes to cover your diapee? You’ve been watching the babies with clothes all day.” 

 

I bit my lip, not paying close attention to her words, too lost in my shaky emotions.  That did sound nice. And if I….if it happened again….maybe clothes would help hide another accident?  I stiffened at the thought. Not that I was going to have an accident! Part of me recoiled at that thought, but another part of me felt reassured by thick, soft padding engulfing me. If I had another accident, my diapee would protect me. Diaper. The warm feeling that had been popping up all day made my insides feel fuzzy.  It grew in strength, melting my resistance; I relaxed against Skye.  

 

“I...I thought….we’d ...go home…” I mumbled uncertainly.  

 

“Silly baby.” Skye laughed like I’d said something funny. “We’re not finished with our special day. There’s still lots to do, and you’re all clean now.”  She swatted my padded rump, her hand thumping off the thick padding with a crinkle. The smell of baby powder filled the air once more and Skye giggled. Her hand rubbed my bottom, patting it more gently with soft rustles of her skin sliding over the smooth, noisy plastic. I blushed; little Tyler and his mother were still here.  Still vulnerable after getting my own poopy diapee changed, I buried my face shyly in Skye’s shoulder.   


 

“Mmm...you smell so good, like a clean, fresh baby. I could just eat you up!”  Skye exclaimed, excited once again as she sniffed me. She tickled my sides, her fingers darting under my shirt like quick silver fish to dance over the sensitive skin of my stomach. I squirmed, a peel of laughter ringing out as I wriggled and crinkled.   Skye smiled and blew a raspberry on my cheek. “That’s my happy baby! Now let’s get some clothes on that cushie tushie.” She playfully squeezed the dry, fresh padding covering my butt, almost like a mommy checking her baby for poopies. 

 

“Skye!” I whined in protest, cheeks bright red. She stood up, her hand in my own, and tugged me to my feet.  

 

“Shush. Come on, baby. We don’t want all the cute clothes to be sold out.” Skye beamed, eager bright in her eyes. She took two steps away from me. The warm, fuzzy feeling floating in my stomach turned into a cold, heavy lump of fear.  I didn’t want Skye to leave me. I wanted to be next to her, as close as possible. I quickly followed, diaper crinkling loudly. 

 

“Nice meeting you!” Skye called to the middle aged woman, who was busy finishing up fastening Tyler into his new outfit.  The shortalls puffed out, making no effort whatsoever to hide his diapered condition. “Say bye-bye, Gavi-kins.” She cooed in a motherly tone to me. 

 

I looked down at my own visible diaper. Something to cover it would be nice...would help me feel more like a big boy…. 

 

“He’s a shy one, isn’t he?” Tyler’s mom talked in the same juvenile, syrupy tone Skye used. Instead of feeling like a big boy, I felt like a I shrank on the inside, like I was just a little toddler.  I was horrified by these thoughts, but deep down inside the truth of them shone in my gut, enhanced by the memory of that horrible mess. Wrestling with these conflicting emotions, I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t wave back. 

 

Skye shook my hand. “Gavi-poo…”  She trailed off, staring at me. I still stared down at my feet and exposed, fresh diaper.  Cartoon animals smiled sappily up at me. The urge to suck something, like my thumb, brushed over my lips and tongue. I poked my lower lip with my thumb.  

 

Skye just smiled and looked up at the other lady. “I’m sorry, he’s still a little emotional from his poopy diapee and crying. I just finished changing him before you came in.” 

 

“Skye!” I whined, horrified.  My head shot up, eyes wide, and my thumb quickly jerked away from my mouth. How could she say that out loud? My insides twisted into knots as I relived that awful moment all over again. I was never going to get over it.  

 

“Little ones.” Tyler’s mother chuckled as she looked at me.  She turned to her son; Tyler still lay on the changing mat, empty bottle in his hands.  He stared at me with huge, saucer eyes as if he was horrified. I felt even smaller, and shrank closer to Skye. Her gaze turn stern. “You see? He made boom-booms in his diaper.”  She pointed at me, and I tugged on Skye’s hand, suddenly wanting to leave.  “And he’s not throwing a fit over it. He’s not fighting his mommy about getting dressed. You could learn a little something from him.”  

 

Skye just smiled, very satisfied, as she led me out of the changing area.  I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide, or the ground to open up and swallow me. That lady just compared me to a baby, labeling Skye my “Mommy” so her son could understand her point. I was almost too mortified to listen.  I just about died at ‘boom-booms in his diaper’. Me, a grown ass man, serving as a lesson for little toddler on how to behave. 

 

“Don’t worry about it, Gavi-poo.  She was just trying to make a point to her baby. Just forget all about it.” Skye said airily as we wove through the crowd. I didn’t see any couples about; it was all families, mostly mommies with babies. They were staring at me, I was sure of it.  They all knew, had seen me go poopies in my diapee. My eyes darted about nervously. No one noticed us; everyone just went about doing their own thing, minding their own business. My heart still drummed against my chest. Any moment, I expected someone to call out, to jeer, to say something.  I stayed close to Skye, almost pressing up against her. One trembling hand latched onto her skirt, so I held both her hand and her skirt, cowering in her shadow. 

Skye strolled, perfectly relaxed and in her element. She observed me with sideways glances when she felt the timid tugs on her skirt.  She just smiled some more, as if she thought my actions were cute, then rummaged in the gift bag. As we walked, Skye sipped from another bottle of Mother’s Milk, and she handed me a sippy cup of Baby Formula.  

 

I frowned, not letting go of her skirt or her hand.  The physical contact was more comforting and reassuring than a drink.  “Come on, baby. All that crying dehydrated you.” Skye wheedled, but I shook my head stubbornly, practically clinging to her, our steps matching. 

 

Skye paused, staring at me.  I peeked over at her; it wasn’t like her to give up so easily.  She stared like she was contemplating something. Then a sunny smile broke out and she brought the sippy cup to my lips, holding it for me.   

 

I turned my head away. “No bottle?” 

 

“A sippy cup is better.  Your shirt is already all stained with dribbles.  This will protect your new outfit.” Skye reasoned. I opened my mouth, but she plopped the hard, plastic tip into my mouth and tilted the cup, pressing gently.  I had no choice; I sucked and sweet liquid washed over my tongue, dazzling my tastebuds with milky decadence. Why had I protested drinking this? Who cares what it came in.  Suddenly realizing how thirsty all that crying and pooping had made me, I sucked my drink down.


 

“Good baby.” Skye praised in a honey sweet tone. She pulled my sippy cup away when I was sucking mostly air.  I whined softly in protest; there were still a few drops left. Skye giggled. “Silly baby, if you suck all that air, it’ll get trapped in your tummy and I’ll have to burp you.”  She teased as I blushed. She put the cup away and wiped milk dribbles from my face with her free hand.

 

“Skye-” I forgot all about the other people around us, soothed by being so close to her and distracted by the milk.  

 

“Here we are!” She cut me off as she led me into the gift shop. An island of stuffed zoo animals filled the center of the store, surrounded by a sea of clothing racks. Zoo themed baby paraphenalia filled shelves near the register; baby bottles, baby blankets, bibs, and toys for various small child stages, from infants to preschool. The main attraction was the clothes.  Baby clothes in a rainbow of sizes and styles. This was an Adult Baby’s dream come true. But I wasn’t an Adult Baby; I cringed, pressing into Skye with a crinkle from my zoo themed diaper.

Skye stood there, just inside the door.  Her blue eyes shone with glee and her fingers squeezed mine as she grinned.  I felt her tremble slightly, as if she was so excited she didn’t know which rack to run to first.

 

I stared, a wave of horror washing over me. I looked from the abundant cornucopia of AB clothing, to Skye, then back again. Was she thinking what I thought she was? “Skye…..” I said, a trembling note of warning and pleading in my tone. 

 

“I know, Gavi-poo! It’s wonderful!” She squealed, rushing right into the little boy section. She moved so fast her skirt slipped from my fingers like grains of sand in a receding tide. Her fingers slid along mine, pulling away.  

 

Panic curdled in my tummy. Alone, in public, just like I’d been when I’d...in my diapee...poo-poos filled my diapee….Again I was thrust back into that awful, awful moment, feeling it slip out of me and fill up my diaper like a mudslide.  “SKYE!” I wailed when I grasped only air; her fingers were gone. My breath hitched, coming in short, tight gasps and I squeezed my eyes shut, groping blindly for her. I toddled forward on stiff legs, diaper crinkling all the way, powder shifting like dunes in a desert with every step. 

 

“Gavi-poo, it’s okay baby. I’m right here.” Her hand calmly enclosed my own grasping one and she pressed a kiss to the top of my unruly hair. I opened my eyes to see her smiling down at me. My free hand quickly fisted in her skirt, clutching it like a toddler clutched his favorite blankie. 

 

“I thought you were gonna leave me.” I sniffled as she kissed one cheek. 

 

“Silly boy. I’d never leave my baby! I moved too fast for you, huh?”  That was more statement than question. “Well, come on.” She tugged on my hand, leading me over to the clothes. This time she held herself in check though I could see the excitement in her eyes and feel it in her impatient tugs on my hand. 

 

“Oh, how am I ever going to choose?” Skye wailed in exuberate, phony distress. “Oh, this is so cute!” She grabbed a pale green onesie with a big, happy cartoon crocodile on the chest and held it up to my chest.  I stiffened, trying to lean back but her hand with the onesie just followed. The only way to escape was to step back, away from her…. I started to do just that. I felt her skirt lift up as I moved, beginning to pull away from me….I quickly crinkled close again, but I wrinkled my nose to show her what I thought. 

 

“My shirt is fine. I don’t need any clothes” 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gavin. You got all kinds of kakka pukas on your shirt. What kind of mo- girlfriend would I be if I let you walk around like that?” Skye scolded, free hand on her hip. 

 

“But-” 

 

“Besides, you’ve been wanting something to cover your diapee.” She finished with an air of finality and I knew I was beaten. She rifled through the rack of onesies, picking a few out while I pouted at her side.  By now, I was used to my diaper being on display. But only big boys had their diapers covered. I glanced over at a rack of shortalls and shorts. Big boy clothes. Onesies were for little babies who couldn’t walk.  I pointed that out to Skye. 

 

“Of course you’re not an infant, you silly goose. I’ve been listening to your diapee crinkle about all day.” Skye cooed indulgently as she picked up two onesies; a powder blue one with a cartoon zebra on it and a yellow one with a cartoon giraffe on it.   My face burned when she mentioned how noisy my diaper was. I was about to protest both the crinkling and the onesies when she shook her hand free of mine. 

 

“Skye-hey!” I cried out, reaching for her hand again as my heart sped up, bumping against my ribs. 

 

“Sorry, baby. Mommy-I need both my hands.” Skye soothed in a sing-song tone and snagged my wrist in one hand, guiding it to her skirt. “There you go sweetie.”  Now both hands fisted in the breezy cotton, rubbing the soft cloth between my fingers absentmindedly. I bit my lower lip, sucking on it absentmindedly as my heart slowed down. 

 

Skye put the onesies back with a pout before moving onto another rack. She stepped away from me; I felt the skirt pulling and I quickly crinkled after her.  I missed the reassuring hold of her fingers around mine, grounding me. I’d been holding her hand most of the day; the touch made me feel safe, let me know she was right next to me. Especially if….if anything...happened.  I blushed and glanced down at my still dry diaper. She couldn’t leave me, when my hand was in hers. Now...now she could disappear at any moment, her skirt slipping through my fingers.  

 

She pawed through a round, rotating rack of rompers.  Some had legs, shorts, and sleeves while others were sleeve and legless, almost like tank-top ones. They came in a rainbow of boy colors; orange, yellow, green, light blue, dark blue, grey and black.  Each had a cartoon zoo animal and puffy, snap crotch bottoms, as if the bottom part had been designed to accentuate how bulky a diaper was and add the optical illusion the diaper was puffier than it actually was.  I shivered; those weren’t much better than a onesie. 

 

“How about this one? That would look cute on you! No, this goes better with your eyes! They’re all so cute! How do they expect mothers to decide?!” Skye kept holding romper after romper after romper up to my chest. I was too nervous to squirm away from her- I’d rather be safe and close to her while she indulged in this insanity than be off on my own. Just in case. No matter what happened today, she’d been with me, seeing me through it.  Wet pants, almost getting spanked by a crazy lady, wet diaper, poopy diaper, she helped me through it all.

 

“Skye. Those are for little babies.”   I showed my displeasure by whining and making a face each time she held up a romper. 

 

“And you’re not a little baby?”  Skye asked with a raised eyebrow as she put a blue romper back.  Her lips twitched in an amused giggle. 

 

Just what was she implying? Or was she just teasing me about my diapers? My poopy accident?  I blushed, trying to glare at her a she giggled. “Skye!” 

 

“You’re so cute when you pout like that. Come on, Gavi-poo-poos.” She tittered some more. 

 

I gaped, mouth hanging open like a fish.  I stared at her, tears welling up and my lower lip trembling.  Sure, Skye teased and joked, it was just part of who she was. But my accident was still so fresh, so raw; the experience still stung.  “S-SKYE!” 

 

“Shhh. Shush.”  Skye cooed, rubbing my cheeks with her fingertips and kissing the tip of my nose. “It’s all over and you’re in a clean diapee now. Poopies are all gone. Yours wasn’t the first poopy diapee of the day, and it won’t be the last. So just relax and let’s get a cute outfit on that cushie tushie.”  Her sing-song voice cajoled me. She playfully patted my padded butt; the plastic backing rustled at her touch. 

 

“Skye!” I squeaked at the unexpected movement, making her giggle then kiss my cheek. 


 

“Sh-shorts?” I sniffled hopefully. Even with snaps in the crotch, those were big boy clothes. 

 

“Of course baby.” Skye soothed then she led me over to another rotating rack, full of shorts and shortalls with matching t-shirts.  I stayed close, pressing against her. I clutched her skirt and rested my cheek against her shoulder blade while she tore through the shorts. What was she looking at? Curious, I tried to peek around her but she flicked through the rotating rack so fast I couldn’t get a good look. Pouting, I stood on my tiptoes with a soft crinkle. My chin rested on her shoulder and I could finally see. 

 

They were almost like big-boy clothing, except for the colorful cartoon animals on the leg, puffy crotch with snaps to accommodate diapers.   They were plain big boy colors; khaki, brown, blue and black. “I like those. These are nice. How about the zebra?” I suggested, but she just kept sliding the hangers along the metal rack. 

 

“No. Meh. Nope. Eh. Maybe. Bleh. Yeesh.” Skye flipped through all the shorts, not even pausing once before she got to the shortalls with matching undershirts. “Oh, now this is more like it!”  She perked up and slowed down to glance at each ensemble. These were something a toddler would wear, not a big boy in preschool. 

 

“I liked the ones with the lions.” I dropped the skirt with one hand, reaching past Skye’s belly to point at the shorts just out of my reach.  

 

“Don’t be silly. Shortalls are much better for diapee changes. And they’re so cute.” Skye chided as she absentmindedly smacked my hand back down. She was instantly absorbed back into perusing the rack.  

 

“Ouch!”  My fingers stung; I was more surprised than hurt.  Skye didn’t turn; she just held up an orange and blue plaid shortalls and red t-shirt with a cartoon turtle.  I whined and she just shushed me, putting the outfit back and picking out another one. I stuck my thumb in my mouth and sucked to soothe away the sting.  The warm fuzzy feeling in my tummy grew while a small part of me wanted to yank my thumb out. But this felt so nice, and no one was paying us any attention anyway...

 

“OH, YES! PERFECT!” Skye cried out, sounding as if she was in the throes of an orgasm. She held aloft a shortall ensemble just like it was He-Man’s Sword of Power. Powder blue cotton with a big, happy sappy cartoon lion on the front and a white t-shirt trimmed in baby blue underneath. She turned to me, her eyes alight in victory. “Oh, Gavi-kins, you’ll look so adorable!” She squealed. 

 

My eyes widened. “NO.  Showts! I want showts!” I lisped, not realizing my thumb was still in my mouth.  On one hand, that outfit was cute. Perfect for an overgrown baby boy...not that I was one! I was NOT one, so that cute outfit was not for me. I wanted big boy shorts, because I was a big boy.  I tugged on Skye’s skirt to emphasize I wanted shorts. 

 

“Gavi-poo, you’re so cute!” She giggled. “Come on, we’re checking out.”  She held up the grown-up sized shortalls and caught one of my hands in hers, leading me to the check out line across the room. 

 

Emboldened by the touch of her hand, I leaned back, trying to make her stop. “No! Showts!”  I would have pointed, but Skye held one of my hands and the other was in my mouth as I still sucked. 

 

“Gavin. Come on.” The lullaby lilt faded from her voice as her face tightened in disapproval.  She yanked, pulling me forward.  

 

“NOOO!”  I howled around my thumb. I didn’t want shortalls; I wanted shorts. 

 

“Gavin, you either knock it off right now, or I’ll pull your diaper down and spank your bare bum right here.”  Skye whispered in my ear, voice low and deadly serious as she bent down to my level. The fuzzy feelings inside me withered; I felt small and helpless. Just like I had when I pooped my diaper, or when that mean lady was going to spank me at the play area. Desperate for comfort and refuge from the fire in her eyes, I sucked on my thumb. The motion was a calming balm over the cut of her anger. 

 

“I-I’m sowwy.” I whimpered, cringing. “I be gewd.” I lisped, my hand getting wet with drool but I barely noticed it. I was overwhelmed by emotions of inadequacy as I stared up into her snapping blue eyes. 

 

She stared me down, watching me cower for a long moment. “Good.” She said with a curt nod, pink and teal braids bouncing.  She tugged on my hand and this time I meekly followed. We passed through the girl section and got in line. I stayed at her side, sucking the warm digit in my mouth. My tongue ran over the wet skin of my thumb, playing with it as I looked down at the happy animals smiling up at me from my diapee.  Skye leaned down and kissed the top of my head. A wave of comfort washed over me. 

 

The line moved up.  “Come on, Gavi-kins.” Skye cooed, tugging gently on my hand. I stepped forward with a crinkle and eyed the blue shortalls she carried. Soon I’d be wearing those.  I blushed, desperately wishing they were big boy shorts. 

 

A loud wailing filled the busy room. I looked up; right by the check out counter was a fitting room with plush wicker benches along the wall.  A tall, lean lady with brown hair in a stylishly sloppy bun and yellow sundress cradled an Asian infant in her arms. The infant’s face scrunched up and red, toothless gums on display as he wailed his little lungs out.  His fingers curled in fists as he flailed. A red balloon was tied to the handle of a zoo gift bag.  

 

Those two looked vaguely familiar. Maybe I’d seen them in the Rainforest Room?  With all that had happened today, I wasn’t sure. The worst part, the very worst, was what the lady had dressed her infant in. A zoo shopping bag sat at the woman’s sandaled feet, along with a boy’s orange t-shirt. But the infant wore a frilly lacy neon pink sundress, trimmed in white lace along the hem and bodice. A safari print diaper bulged out under the dress.  He wore lacey pink socks with tiny, smiling hippo heads on the toes. The plushy heads rattled as he kicked his tiny feet. 

 

“That’s Mommy’s pretty princess! Such a little fussy wussy button!”  The lady cooed as her baby helplessly kicked like he was trying to get away.  She made a big show of checking his diaper, sticking her fingers in the crotch then pulling the back of his diaper open for a peek. Through this the Asian boy just wailed as hard as his lungs would permit. “No poopy poo-poos or tinkle winkles, so princess must be hungry!” She proclaimed loudly. She tugged down her low cut dress and bra to free one heavy breast. A drop of milk beaded on the pink nipple.  

 

Engrossed just as Skye had been in the clothes, I stared with wide eyes. The urge to suck filled me; I sucked hard on my thumb and thought of Skye’s breasts as I watched the wailing infant turn his head from his mommy’s boob. What was wrong with him?  The lady just smiled, bringing his face back to her waiting nipple. She brushed the leaky tip across his pink lips; reluctantly he stopped crying and latched on as if instinct took over. He nursed, sucking rhythmically and the mommy just smiled in satisfaction. 

 

I watched, filled with envy and sucked my thumb in time with the nursing newborn. 

 

“Such a cute baby girl!” Skye gushed, but she looked down at me as she spoke.  Her words broke my reverie; I shook my head, blushing, and popped my thumb out of my mouth. What was I thinking? Big boys did not suck their thumbs or drink milk from their mommies.  I was a big boy...right? At least, I wanted to be a big boy. Part of me did, anyway. The warm feelings that tickled my tummy insisted thumbs were made to be sucked and milk from mommy would be yummy. Even more yummy than the zoo’s Baby Formula. 

 

I stared hard at Skye’s boobs. They didn’t look any bigger than they had at lunch; but they were heavier, fuller. Unconsciously, I licked my lips. 

 

“You agree, right, Gavi-poo?”  

 

“Huh?” I looked up from her cleavage to her face. 

 

Her lips twitched in a smirk that said, ‘I  know what you were doing’. But her eyes twinkled, like this pleased her.  I blushed; I shouldn’t have been looking there. 

 

“The infant stage is just the sweetest and that dress is so precious!” Skye raved, taking my staring for agreement.  But she was gazing down at me as she spoke. Why was she looking at me like that? A worm of foreboding wriggled in me.  

 

“I...um….I...guess…” I mumbled. Where was she going with this?

 

“You want one? Come on, let’s look at the pretty dresses!” Skye squealed, darting for a rack of disgusting frills, pink, and purple. Her hand was an iron vice around mine, trapping me. 

 

“NOOO!” I wailed. “I WIKE MY SHOWTAWWS.”  I leaned back with all my might. When had Skye gotten so strong? I could barely slow her no matter how hard I tugged back.  Only my words made her pause.  

 

“You’d look so cute in that pretty purple dress with all those bows. And matching diapee cover!”’ Skye cooed.     

 

My eyes widened and I sucked harder on my thumb. “NOOOOO!!  I WANT DOSE!” I popped my slobbery thumb out of my mouth to point at the blue shortalls she held. 

 

“Oh, you do? Are you sure?” Skye turned her head from the girl clothing to the boy outfit she held.  

 

“YES! YES!”  I nodded enthusiastically, desperate to convince Skye to get the blue boy clothes. 

 

“Goody.” Skye chirped, leading me back into the checkout line.  I looked down at my sandals, my thumb poking at my lip before slipping into my mouth.  The well trained cashiers kept the line moving quickly. All too soon Skye had paid and led me over to the benches by the changing rooms.  The mother nursing her baby had finished up and departed; Skye sat in the same seat she had. She opened up the shopping bag, took out the new outfit and tore off the tags. 

 

“Okay baby, reach uppies.” Skye pantomimed reaching up with her hands.  I sucked my thumb and just stared at her. She wanted to dress me out here?  Just like mothers were doing with their babies. Shouldn't we be in a dressing room? Skye was crazy if she thought I was going along with this.  Heh..Skye and her crazy ideas...now that was nothing new. 

 

“Come on, Gavi-poo.” She tickled my sides, fingers digging right into my sensitive spots.  I squirmed, giggling as a little bit of drool ran down my chin. Skye grinned and yanked my shirt over my head in triumph.  I froze when I realized I was standing there, a big boy in just his diapee. I looked at Skye in horror. She just smiled calmly and oh so slowly flapped open the white t-shirt trimmed in baby blue. 

 

“Skye!” I whined. “Hurry!” I squirmed, my colorful diaper crinkling noisily. 

 

She held the shirt up by the sleeves, making it dance teasingly in front of me. “Who wants to get dressed?” She cooed.

 

“ME! PWEASE!”  I hollered, practically begging.   This seemed to appease her; her smile turned to a huge grin and she tugged the shirt easily over my head.  It came to just above my diaper, exposing a tiny bit of my flat belly. 

 

“Belly button!” Skye squealed and poked me right in in said belly button.  I blushed, yanking my shirt down while she giggled madly. I was busy trying to tug my short shirt down and hide my belly from her random belly button attacks; amidst all this she soon held open the baby blue shortalls, coaxed me to step into them with another belly poke, then she brought the straps up over my shoulders and snapped them into place. 

 

“CUTE! So cute I could just eat you up!” Skye gushed, her eyes flashing in triumph.  

 

I looked down, patting my tummy; no more belly buttons for her. Childishly I stuck my tongue out, teasing her like she teased me. Skye grabbed my tongue; I squealed in surprise and she laughed. 

“Nice try, baby cakes, nice try.”  She playfully patted my butt. My shorts did nothing to hide the awfully loud crinkle. She let go of my tongue and I looked down; instead of hiding my diaper, the shortalls puffed out at the crotch, accentuating the bulge and making it look even bigger. 

 

“Ahem. Excuse me.” A feminine voice called stiffly. 

 

I looked up and instantly stiffened at the sight of frizzy blonde curls and tits so plastic it would be impossible to suck milk out of them. Chaz’s mom.  My thumb slipped into my mouth and I sucked, scooting and crinkling closer to Skye.

 

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