What it is to be John Morrow (Re-Upload)

[Dr_J]

Hey folks. I know it's been a very long time since I've posted anything. To be honest, I haven't written much in quite some time. My music hobby has taken over my creative outlet. Still, I remember there was the great "purge" here that wiped a lot of stuff clean, including my novel, "I, Infantilist." For those of you who don't remember, I actually published this book on Amazon, with the title "What it is to be John Morrow", available here. 

I figure I'll re-post some of it here in small chunks, just to see how folks like it. It's more or less going to be for the newer members to check out. I'll be upfront: this is not your typical ABDL story. The lifestyle is just a catalyst, and this takes a deeper look at the humanistic element of the lifestyle; the struggles, the self-hate, the secrecy, the fear. Still, I'll post a little bit here and there, or if you're impatient, you can buy a copy. Anyway, here goes.

Chapter 1

Some people turn to cigarettes to relieve stress. Some open a bottle of alcohol and chug away. Some scream, or punch walls, or take drugs, both legal and illegal. But not me. I don’t do any of those things. I’ve found my ultimate stress reliever. No, it’s not boxing or working out (though I need to work out for my job as a bouncer). You see, to relive stress, I turn to diapers. Yeah, I said it, and yes, you’re reading that correctly. Diapers.

Run off, turn your head in disgust, tell yourself I’m a sick bastard who has problems…I’ve heard it all before. I’ve been in groups where people randomly got into the topic of infantilism/diaper wearing and nearly began a hate group because they were so appalled by the lifestyle, while I had to keep my mouth shut to avoid any problems. So go on and get out of here if you wish. It’ll show your arrogance and failure to understand. Still, if I’ve intrigued you thus far, then perhaps you’d be interested in my story! By acts of God, or fate, or what have you, I found the girl who loves me for me, including my odd wish to be babied sometimes. I could go into how much I love this woman, and how fortunate I am to have her, but I wish to tell you of the turn of events that led up to me finding her, as well as finding myself, because that’ll make this all the more interesting. I promise I won’t bore you, so if you’re ready, let’s take a trip into yesteryear! Ah, but allow me to introduce myself first!

My name is Jonathon Morrow, but you can just call me John. I’m currently 22 years of age and work as a bouncer in a night club. I have my Bachelor’s degree in Electrical Engineering, and I’m kind of in the process of looking for a better job right now. Hey, the economy’s rough these days! And as mentioned before, I am an infantilist. If you don’t know what that is, just look at the first six letters in the word and you should get the picture.

You might be wondering when I discovered my little quirk (you can say infantilism is normal if you’d like, but I still feel that since it isn’t widely accepted by society that it isn’t exactly something you see every day). Well anyway, I remember having the fascination with being diapered back when I was five years old! Long time ago, huh? I watched some cartoon where this girl would baby absolutely every cartoon character she’d come into contact with. From burping to putting the characters on a changing table and changing their diapers, this girl was really into her babying, and I became jealous rather quickly, though I couldn’t explain why. I’d been potty trained for two or three years at that time, so why on Earth would I want to do something so unheard of? Why would I wish to be treated as helpless as an infant again, especially when I was so independent at my young age? The questions still linger today. No, I didn’t ever try wearing diapers or asking my parents if I could be a baby again, because I knew they’d be upset, and it was just plain weird.

I remember this desire stuck with me for a few years. Any cartoon that had some form of a character being put into or putting someone else in a diaper and being treated like an infant captivated me. I suppose I could blame television for my quirk, and for a while I did, but I knew there was more to it than that. I remember I kept on telling myself that wanting to be treated that way was wrong and that my parents would probably never speak to me again if they found out, so I suppressed the feeling for seven long years. Yeah, long time, huh? I know now that it was a stupid and unhealthy thing to do, but hey, it worked for quite a while! All of those feelings were lost. I no longer wanted to even associate myself with anything babyish, even when my mom started doing daycare. I was living what I thought was the normal life; hanging out with friends, keeping my grades up in school, riding my awesome BMX bike, and of course getting into some trouble in town. One time we set up traffic cones on the bridge at night and made drivers think that there was a detour…boy did they get pissed! I didn’t think the cops would come so quickly that night. Jeez, you’d think they were responding to a robbery or something! But anyway, life was great! Then, things changed. Drastically.

Like a person having a sudden recovery from amnesia, my desires and thoughts came back in full swing! I remember what triggered it, though. I was in ninth grade, and we had this stupid Home-Ec class we were forced to take. I’d say the only thing I enjoyed in the class was baking, mostly because I got to eat the food I made. Well, sometime during the winter months, we had to do a babysitting course in our class. Now I for one dislike children. Kind of ironic, eh? I like to act like an infant sometimes, yet I don’t like actual children in any way!

We had to watch this God-awful video with some thirty year old dude telling us how to baby-sit and take care of kids. I don’t remember much of the video, mostly because I was busy doodling in my notebook, but I overheard some of my classmates talking about how ridiculous the video was. Of course, some of the females were more focused on the damned presentation than life itself. I suppose they needed to be, though, since most of them were going to be competing to get the best babysitting jobs around.

After the seemingly eternal video ended, my instructor had us get into groups of four so we could “practice” some of what we learned from the video on “life-like infants”, life-like being a flimsy doll that made Cabbage Patch dolls look like artistic sculptures. I didn’t have too many friends in that particular class, but I was fairly close with the females during high school, so I teamed up with three girls, Brittany, Jess, and Marie. All three girls shared lockers near mine, so we talked on a daily basis…well, more like they talked and I listened, but I guess that’s what made them like me so much.

Our instructor walked over with a basket full of things, including the doll.

“Now class, I want you all to participate since that is a part of your grade! Remember what you’ve learned from the video, and make sure you cover all of the things listed on the piece of paper in your basket! And most importantly, have fun!”

The doll’s head stuck out of the basket, looking at the four of us as our instructor walked off. We rummaged through the items in the basket and pulled them out carefully. Within moments we had diapers, baby powder, baby wipes, a changing mat, a baby blanket, and an empty baby bottle strewn across the table. Since I was a neat freak I organized all of the items, causing the girls to joke around with me.

“Practicing for the Marines, John?” Marie snickered.

“Sir, yes sir!”

This got a laugh out of everyone in our group. Finally, Brittany picked up the doll, who was wearing a blue onesie and a small cap.

“Aw, it’s a baby boy!” she laughed. “What a cute widdle baby!”

We all looked at Brittany with raised eyebrows.

“What? She said to have fun with it, and I need a good grade!”

“Hmm, she might be right. Maybe we should all pretend as if it were a real baby!” Jess chimed in.

“You can count me out! I’ll help and stuff, but no thanks on the babytalk!” I said with a laugh.

“Oh, come on, John!” Marie giggled. “Not much into the babysitting I take it?”

“Not one bit!”

“That’s okay! You can miss out on the fun!” Brittany said.

“Don’t mind if I do!”

With that, we were on our way to babysitting a non-living baby. I didn’t mind how quiet the doll was, mostly because whenever I think of kids I think of the screaming, bratty ones. A shame not all kids were that quiet! The checklist went as follows:

 

--Holding the baby

--Feeding and burping

--Checking and changing the baby’s diaper

--Placing the baby in the crib

 

“Okay, who wants to hold the baby first?” Brittany asked.

“Well, you’re technically holding him first, but I’ll give it a go.” I volunteered.

Brittany nodded and gently handed the doll over to me. Like I’d learned from the video, I gently held the doll in a cradling position and soon felt extremely stupid.

“You’re a natural, John! That’s perfect! Here, now I’ll try!” Jess said excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah. Here you go.”

I carefully handed the doll over to Jess, who took it with a wide smile.

“Aw, hey there widdle baby! Gootchie goo! Jess is here! It’s okay!” Jess cooed.

Soon after, all three girls joined in on the “fun”, each one hovering over the doll as if it were a real infant, tickling it under its chin and nuzzling its stomach with their noses. My heart rate quickened in an instant. The old cartoons and diaper commercials I’d watched played through my head all at once. The sight of these girls giving this doll all of their affection and love almost brought me to my knees. I so wanted to look away and cover my ears, but…I couldn’t. I gulped for air and acted like I was unfazed by their actions.

After the doll was passed around, Jess took the baby bottle off of the table and handed it to Brittany.

“Time for your baba, baby waby!”

Brittany pretended to insert the bottle into the doll’s mouth, cooing and gently cradling the doll. My face burned with embarrassment as I felt like I shouldn’t have been attracted to that sort of thing. Once Brittany finished “feeding” our doll, she gently placed its head over her shoulder and patted its back and diapered butt.

“Burpy time!”

“Aww, how cute!” Jess cooed as she eagerly waited for her turn.

“John, are you okay? Your face is red!” Marie asked.

“Ohh, maybe John has gas! Need to be burped, John?” Brittany jokingly said.

The room fell deathly silent, and time itself had come to a crawl.

No! She did not just say that! No way! What do I do?! Think, John! Think!

I pretended to cough violently, lowering my head so nobody could see my eyes. Marie patted my back in an effort to help me, but I soon acted like I recovered and grabbed a drink from the sink.

“Sorry for the scare, girls! Air must have gone down the wrong pipe! Oh, and no, I don’t need to be burped, Brittany.” I stuck my tongue out at her and laughed.

Our group chuckled a bit as we took turns feeding and burping our doll, and we were soon onto the next phase. The phase that I desired the most. The phase that I soon hated, mostly because there were three females in my group who made sure our doll felt like a real infant: the checking and changing of the diaper.

Eight diapers lay neatly stacked on the table next to the powder, wipes, and changing mat. I was sure that I’d die at any moment, but God apparently wanted me to endure this.

“Oh, the best part! Haha!” Jess exclaimed. “I tink I smell a dirty dydee!”

Oh my God…

“Aw, hims dydee needs changing, doesn’t it? Oh yes it does!” Marie cooed as she lifted the doll underneath its armpits and pretended to sniff its diaper.

Oh…my…God…just like from the cartoon! Gah!

“Well then let’s lay dis widdly baby on his changing mat and check to make sure!” Brittany spoke softly.

The girls encircled the table as Marie laid the doll down onto the changing mat. Jess and Brittany both unsnapped the onesie and carefully lifted it, exposing the doll’s puffy white diaper. Jess then continued to check the baby’s diaper by gently placing her fingers under the left leg.

“Aw, baby’s wet!” she cooed. “Who wants to change him first?”

“I-I’ll do it!” I quickly answered.

“Wow, John! For someone who doesn’t like babysitting, I’m surprised you volunteered to go first!” Brittany laughed.

“I just want to get it over with!”

Okay, John. Deep breaths. Don’t make it obvious that you’re eyeing the diapers and baby stuff! Just do this and you’re home free!

I carefully un-taped the doll’s diaper on both sides, then lifted the doll’s legs into the air and continued the process that the video had taught us to do. From wiping and powdering to placing the new diaper under the doll, I managed to finish in under a minute. My three partners all were shocked to see just how quickly but expertly I was able to diaper the doll.

“Too bad real babies aren’t this quiet and still!” I joked.

“Aw, most little infants are! It’s when they get older when changing their diapers is a pain! Toddlers always have that tendency to run around naked…ugh, just the thought of having to change my two year old cousin makes me cringe.” Jess said. “But not this widdle baby! Noooo, dis widdle man is so good for his babysitters! Now it’s my turn to change hims dydee!”

I moved over and tried my hardest to look away as the three girls continued to giggle and enjoy their make-believe session, but something inside just wouldn’t let me for more than a few seconds. I felt as though I had to look!

Jess removed the doll’s diaper just as I did, but she did so in a much gentler way, carefully grabbing the front of the diaper while lifting the doll’s legs and sliding the white hourglass-shaped piece of plastic out from under.

“Who’s a good widdle baby! You are! Yes you are!” Jess was relentless!

“Jess, you do realize it’s not real, right?” I asked.

“Aw, I know! It’s fun to pretend, though! Isn’t it, girls?”

Brittany and Marie nodded their heads as they both joined in on the ultimate cooing and babying experience. As for me, I wanted to die inside. Not because I didn’t like what I was seeing, but because I thought that my heart would burst from what I was witnessing.

Jess grabbed a few baby wipes from the tub and slowly started wiping the doll all around its diaper area, even making sure to get just below its belly button and just above its knees.

“You girls mind holding this widdle baby’s legs up for me while I wipe his bottom?” she asked.

“Ohh, it’ll be my pleasure!” Brittany gently raised the doll’s legs up while Jess went to work.

Next came the powder, its babyish scent forcing its way into my nostrils, making me blush. Jess continued to coo the doll as if it were her own baby, mentioning something about not wanting the doll to get “dydee rash.” Finally, she grabbed a fresh diaper from the stack and opened it slowly.

“Oh yes! It’s diaper time! Nice fwesh dydee for this widdle baby!”

Shoot me now! Please! How do they not suspect anything about me? It’s like they know I’m into this! But why am I? Just think about something else…that’s it! Yeah! How about that assignment that’s due tomorrow?

Jess had Brittany lift the doll’s legs up once more so she could place the new diaper where it belonged. Before Brittany lowered the doll’s legs, Jess took the baby powder and sprinkled more into the seat of the diaper, making the aroma overpower every other smell in the room.

“Hehe, I learned that trick when my cousin came over!” she laughed as she taped up both sides of the diaper nice and snug. “There you go, baby!”

I looked at the clock in my worried state of mind; class wasn’t over for another ten minutes, meaning I had to sit through two more diaper change sessions, complete with cooing and babying. There was no way I could handle both, so I told the girls that I had to use the bathroom and I would return shortly.

“Well, these diapers are like portable bathrooms, John! Use one of these!” Marie laughed as she held one of the baby diapers up.

Just turn around and head out the door, John! Don’t look back so she doesn’t see your face!

“Oh yes. Very funny!” I chuckled.

“Come on, we’ll even change you!” Brittany joined in.

Were these girls reading my thoughts? I thought I’d collapse right then and there from the intensity! For a second I was afraid that they’d follow me out the door with the diapers and actually put them on me, and I panicked. If they did such a thing, I’d be the laughingstock of the school! I’d be totally humiliated and embarrassed, and then my secret would be out! My breaths grew short once again.

“I’m sure you’d like that!” I looked over my shoulder briefly as I walked out the door.

The girls all laughed and talked about how funny I was as I headed down the hall towards the bathroom. I knew I wasn’t smiling, because I could feel my lips shaking. Once I entered the bathroom, I walked into one of the stalls, locked the door, and closed my eyes to try to block out what I’d just seen. It was the most wonderful thing, yet I was so afraid of it. It made me wonder if that’s how people reacted when they died and saw God. Maybe seeing heaven was so great that people became worried because they were uncertain of their feelings. Sure, these were two completely separate things, but at the time I sure as hell felt that the comparison was dead-on!

This is just great! Out of the blue! I haven’t thought about this for almost ten years! Why now, God?! Why? Don’t make me like this now! Nobody would understand! No…they will never understand! They can’t! They’ll call me a freak and single me out! I’m a teen! I can’t like this kind of thing! If anyone finds out, I’ll lose it!

I took a few deep breaths and calmed myself down. At that very moment, I knew I was different, but I vowed to never tell another soul. I would take my desire to the grave with me no matter what. Nobody would know except for me and God. I chose to bear the burden that day, keeping the weight in my chest for another extended period of time. However, I would eventually find out that trying to suppress such an important part of my life would be the stupidest and most unhealthy thing to do.

 

Chapter 2

For a while I had kept my wish to be babied on the back shelf of my brain, but I couldn’t keep the feeling at bay for too long. I remember during the last year of high school I was heavily addicted to online multiplayer games. No, not the flashy three-dimensional ones where you save the world and play as other creatures. I was into the simple text games like “Fridge Magnets” and “Alphabeats”. It was here that I’d made a small handful of online friends, and thanks to technology today, it wasn’t long before I was messaging and emailing them. We’d share pictures, talk about how much we hated school, and even joke around. Call me a nerd, but some of my better friends throughout high school were made over these simple game sites. So how does this relate to my story? Well, I guess you could say that I have a way with words when it comes to getting what I want, and my fear of saying them greatly decreases when I’m behind a computer screen. A coward’s way out to some, but to me, it was just another way of expressing myself freely without fear of judgment! Besides, these friends of mine would probably never wind up seeing me in person, mostly because they lived halfway across the country!

Anyway, I remember for a month or so, my “Fridge Magnets” friend Jill and I would stay up rather late so we could talk about whatever we wanted. Jill was in a time zone that was two hours behind mine, so my midnight was her ten o’ clock. Well, whenever I’d tell Jill that I was tired, she’d simply tell me that I was a baby, or a “sleepy baby” as she liked to call me. I didn’t really do much at first, but then I came up with an idea: I would agree with her and see what would develop! There was a risk that she’d get weirded out, but what’s life without taking some risks? So, here’s what some of our conversation looked like, and I keep this because it’s important to me:

 

Me: *yawns* I have to go to bed soon.

 

Jill: Aw, you baby! You’re always tired at this time!

 

Me: I know. What can I say?

 

Jill: You can just say you’re a baby and get it over with! Haha!

 

Now, I know that this was simply words, but you have to understand that Jill and I had become quite good online friends, and we’d even called each other occasionally, so as soon as I read what she wrote, I couldn’t resist! A smirk went across my face almost instantly.

 

Me: Fine…I’m a baby ?

 

Jill: Ha! I knew it! Lol

 

Me: Oh yes! I drink from bottles and wear diapers! *rolls eyes*

 

Jill: Aw do you? That’d be cute!

 

Me: Haha I bet it would! Next thing I know you’re gonna ask to feed me and take care of me!

 

Jill: I’d do it! Just because you’re a sleepy baby!

 

It’s make it or break it, John!

 

Me: Well, be my guest!

 

Then, it began.

 

Jill: Okay then! *picks you up and carries you to the changing table and lays you down on it slowly* diaper time for you! *changes you into a fresh diapie and then picks you up and carries you into the kitchen*

 

My jaw just about dropped, but I wasn’t about to let that ruin the moment. For once I felt warm inside about this feeling, and nothing could stop me from smiling! This was a mere taste of what I’d wished for!

 

Me: Thanks for the diaper! Haha.

 

Jill: Hehe you’re welcome, baby! Now it’s time for your baba! *gets your bottle and then carries you into the living room and feeds you your baba* drink up!

 

Me: *smiles and drinks the bottle* mmm tasty! Haha *drinks it until it’s all gone*

 

Jill: Good baby! Haha. *picks you up and burps you*

 

My dream coming true. My dream, just a computer screen away from being the real thing. Simple words on a screen, making me nothing but happy.

 

Me: *lets out a few burps for you and sighs*

 

Jill: Awww! How cute! *sticks a pacifier in your mouth and then cradles you until you start to fall asleep* Time for beddy

 

Me: Haha thanks! *sucks on the pacifier and slowly falls asleep while being cradled*

 

Jill: Aw. *kisses your forehead and puts you in your crib* Goodnight baby! Haha.

 

Me: Haha goodnight! I’ll talk to you later, Jill!

 

That night I was overcome with an extreme feeling of bliss. Here was my friend, completely joking around with me about this whole baby thing, and she seemed to be enjoying it herself! I knew that sooner or later I’d have to tell her that I liked this kind of thing, because a part of me felt that if I started to like it too much, then I’d have felt like she was being used, and that’s never a way to treat somebody. However, this little “baby time” as I liked to call it went on every other week or so, and Jill didn’t mind one bit! Sometimes she’d even start the whole thing—this girl was exactly the kind of person I was looking for! But…what if she found out I liked this kind of thing? Then what? Maybe she’d call me a freak and never speak to me again? Perhaps she’d make fun of me and end our friendship. And if my parents ever found out…then what? What if they saw my conversations? Sure, the computer was in my room, but there was still that risk.

As if these thoughts weren’t enough, I then thought about why I liked this kind of thing, and whether or not there were more people who were into it as well. I also started thinking about how much of a freak I must have been, and how nobody would ever accept what I was into if they found out.

Weeks passed by as swiftly as the wind, and Jill and I continued to build on our friendship. Some chatting, some more sharing of our ambitions and plans, and of course, some babying . Things went smoothly for the longest time until that night my parents and I were watching “Ultimate Sleuths”. I remember the episode oh so vividly, even though I haven’t watched it since that fateful night. Like a surprise kick to the stomach, the episode involved the murder of a man who just happened to be into the same exact thing that I was: being babied and sometimes wearing diapers! For some reason my parents never changed the channel, and I didn’t want to arouse any suspicions by leaving the room, so I swallowed hard and remained on the couch.

The episode played on, showing some flashbacks of the man being treated just like an infant by an extremely beautiful woman who was half his age. Near the end of the show, the woman confessed to killing the man, then spoke about how he was an infantilist.

Infantilist? What?

The word sounded like a foreign language to my ears, though the first two syllables rang a bell almost immediately. I lodged the word into my brain and became excited. Was this the word that was used to describe people like me? And if this show was depicting a man who was into this kind of thing, did that mean that this “infantilism” was more widely accepted by society than I’d hoped? I just had to find out!

Once the show ended, the bombshell was finally dropped.

“That’s sick! I can’t believe there are people who are into that!” my mother said in disgust.

“You’re telling me! The world could definitely do without those kinds of people!” my dad laughed. “Bunch of sick minded bastards. They should lock those people up and throw away the key!”

I couldn’t shake off what I’d just heard. My parents who loved me so dearly, who taught me all about accepting others for who they were, who told me they’d love me no matter what, hated people like me…hated me. I couldn’t help it if I was an “infantilist” as the show called it! Part of me wished to stand up for myself, but my fear of being disowned and shunned got the best of me. I pretended to ignore their comment and told them that I was tired and was going to bed. In under a minute I was in my room with the door shut and locked, and lowered my head in shame.

They can never know now. Nobody can know. They’ll hate me. I must keep this a secret. This…is mine. My dark secret.

I remember I couldn’t sleep that night, so I logged back onto my computer with a frown on my face and went to a search engine site. The first word I typed in? “Infantilist.” My God, there were a lot of results! Easily over 70,000! Most of them appeared to be pornographic sites which I wasn’t into, but there were a few I found that seemed legit. The sites had forums, explanations of infantilism, and stories, all of which piqued my interest. I was glued to my screen for another two hours, soaking in all of the information I could find.

It appeared to me that there were a variety of reasons as to why people were into diaper wearing and being babied. Apparently some people had been abused as children, and acting in a babyish way was a means for them to get better. Others wore diapers because they became aroused. Some just wore them and acted like babies for fun. And finally, the one that I decided to put myself under: a way to relieve stress. Some people explained that their lives were full of demanding jobs and mean people, and being a baby and/or wearing diapers made them forget about the harsh reality called life. I was intrigued! That sense of being cared for and loved by somebody (for me, it was obviously a female) had the ability to absolve all stress and actually bring forth positive feelings! And even better was the fact that there were thousands of people who were into the same thing!

As I moved through the forums, I noticed something a lot of them had done that I hadn’t dared to try yet: wearing a diaper. I wasn’t sure that I was in fact into the whole infantilism scene, but the only way for me to be sure would have been to try wearing an actual diaper. Not exactly something I could just get up and do.

Ah well. Sooner or later I’ll try it! Something will come up I’m sure.

I then browsed through the various story sites that had been posted. Some of these stories I absolutely fell in love with! I was able to connect and relate to these fictional characters and was awestruck by just how well-written the stories were. Then, there were some of those other stories…eh, I don’t like talking about them. This was something in which my significant other (when I got one, anyway) would have to be willing to participate in while also making sure not to make fun of me in any way, as this was a very sensitive thing to me, and sort of still is today.

Anyway, by the end of the night (or early morning, depending on how you look at it), I felt that I’d found enough information to answer some of the questions I had. Still remembering what my parents had said, I vowed to never let them or anyone else find out about my quirk, but that meant that I had to cover all of my tracks. My first step was to make sure that any files that I saved onto my computer would be placed in folders that were within folders, that were within more folders, all with silly names to detract attention; a maze in which nobody would wish to finish. Additionally, I left a small note on my computer monitor that said, “clear history!” I felt confident that my plan would work, and to tell you the truth, it did!

As for the trying out a diaper…no luck. I didn’t have the guts at the time. I’d have to either wait until summer when both of my parents were at work all day, or worse, wait until college…a whole two and a half months! Then I thought about the risks involved with trying them in the summer. My friends might see me purchasing them. If I ordered some online, then the package might not have come in until a Saturday when both of my parents were home. Someone would walk in on me. As fake as the stories I’d read were, they still helped to increase my fear of being caught and humiliated. I decided at that time to wait until college. You might be thinking that it wouldn’t have worked since I had to share a dorm, but you’ll just have to wait and see!

[ozziebee]

Love it, very very funny scenes! Brilliant writing! Cant wait to read more of it!

[Eagle0769]

I remember you Dr_J. You wrote some assume stories back then.

Your story telling has not change you still write like a pro.

I like this one I give it a 10.

Keep going and please don't let it fad away.

[Dr_J]

Thank you for the kind words, everyone. Here are the next 2 chapters.

Chapter 3

They say that college is when you finally find out things about yourself that you never thought would be possible…I couldn’t agree more. No family, no limits to what you feel like doing, many open-minded people. It’s the perfect place to unleash your full potential, as well as discover other parts of your life that had been lying dormant for years, which is exactly what happened in my case!

I’d been accepted for enrollment at the Hansen Institute of Technology on the day I turned eighteen; one hell of a birthday present if you ask me! The school was about 130 miles west of where I lived, and I must say that I was impressed by pretty much everything I saw when I visited the campus. The whole university was surrounded by trees and sat atop a hill. All of the main buildings were at the center of the campus, and the dorms…easily the greatest thing! The dorms were single rooms! There were three rooms to a suite, and six suites per building. After months of dreading the thought of having to share a room with a complete stranger, I came to find that I’d have my own room! I wouldn’t have to worry about my privacy being invaded! Freedom was still mine! The summer would move along rather quickly, what with me working like crazy and going to tons of graduation parties.

The end of August came, and my stuff was packed: my computer, my television and gaming system, my clothes, some posters, a shelf, an abundance of food and a fridge that my parents had bought for me. My whole life packed into my car. The two hour drive into a town I’d never even heard of would soon be my new home.

I couldn’t wait to study Electrical Engineering and meet new people and faces. I’d heard so many things about college that far surpassed any type of high school setting. There weren’t as many fights, people partied and socialized with others regardless of social status, and most importantly, I’d be able to get a decent job once I was finished. What does high school get you? A lifetime guarantee that you’ll be flipping burgers or cleaning hotel rooms. At least, that’s what my parents raised me to believe. And of course, the one thing that truly excited me the most: I’d finally, after so many years, be able to try wearing a diaper in the comfort of my own dorm! All of these things made the drive seem much longer than it actually was, but I’m a patient guy, so I knew it’d be well worth the wait.

Once I arrived at HIT (yeah, sounds silly, doesn’t it?), my heart was overcome with excitement. My parents soon arrived and parked their car next to mine, and after I signed in to the residence halls and said hello to a few strangers, I began unpacking. My parents helped me (well, more like my dad helped. My mom was never one to do any strenuous lifting, strenuous lifting being anything over ten pounds…). In merely an hour I was settled into my room. My rock band posters lined the walls, my computer was all hooked up and ready to go, and my closet shelves were stacked high with a ridiculous amount of food.

“John, is this everything?” my dad asked.

“Yep! I think I’m all set!”

“Oh, hang on! I almost forgot!” he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a green envelope and handed it to me.

“What’s this?”

“Just open it, son!” my mom said excitedly.

I carefully opened the envelope since I hated ripping cards. Inside was of course a card, but it wasn’t an ordinary card…well, I guess it was ordinary. The card was plain on the outside, with the exception of the words “We Love You, Son” on the front. Inside the card read:

John,

We’re so proud of you for making it this far! We love you so much and we’ll support you in whatever you do!

Love,

Mom and Dad

Next to this letter was a rectangular piece of paper that was supposed to resemble a dollar bill. I flipped the paper over and where the President’s head was supposed to be was my father’s head. Beneath his picture read “Five Hundred Dollars”.

“Is this some kind of joke?” I laughed while smiling at my parents.

“We put some extra money in your account, honey. You worked so hard this summer, and we felt you could use a little spending money while you’re up here!”

Now I’m no sap, but nobody had ever done anything like that for me before, and for a second I thought that my heart would burst from being so happy. I thanked and hugged both of my parents. We then said our goodbyes and I walked my parents out to their car. One minute later, they were gone; I was free.

I held onto the card as I headed back into my dorm. Over and over again I read it. They really were proud! But, would they be so proud if they knew that they were parents to an infantilist? I imagined what would’ve happened had they known. They probably wouldn’t have bought me my fridge…hell, they probably wouldn’t have even come up to say goodbye to me. I shook the thought and logged onto my computer as I waited for the arrival of my suitemates.

Jill was online as soon as I opened my messenger, so we of course chatted some more, and I bragged about how I was moved into my dorm. She simply replied by calling me a dork and talked about how she was going to be moving into her dorm in about a week. We exchanged schedules and talked about random nonsense for a while until she asked me a silly question:

 

Jill: So, where’s your school again, mister?

 

Was she serious? I laughed and told her again, then called her a loser for forgetting. We laughed some more and then came a stillness on my messaging program.

 

Me: Having an epiphany, Jill? Haha

Jill: Something like that, jerk! It looks like we’re going to be closer once I start going to school!

Me: What?! You’re shitting me!

Jill: No! Look, dork! You’re in Hansen! I’m going to Limescale! They’re only…150 miles away from each other!

 

How the hell had we not known that?! My heart raced with excitement as I immediately thought about how we’d finally be able to meet each other in person! The phone calls and messaging sessions were good, but we’d been talking about going to see each other for the longest time, yet neither of us had the money to make the trip (we were about 500 miles away from each other), nor did we think our parents would approve at the time. But you don’t need your parents’ approval when you’re in college!

Just the thought of us hanging out made me happy, and no, not just because she “babied” me. Her sense of humor was a bit out there, but it was enough to make me laugh almost all of the time, not to mention she was quite pretty (at least from what her pictures showed!)

We immediately made plans for her to come up. In about one month, she’d come up for a weekend and we’d have a hell of a time. I told her how we’d find a bunch of stuff to do while she was visiting, and this just made us even more excited. I then bit the bullet and made what I thought would be a stupid move as our conversation continued.

 

Me: Hell, I’ll even let you baby me when you’re up here! Haha just kidding 

 

Jill: Lol, I’ll do it!

 

No way…no way!

 

Me: Ohhhh, sure you will! I bet you’ll get some big diapers and all that other baby stuff, too! Lol.

 

Jill: Oh you know it! You’ll just have to wait and see! Hehehehehe.

 

I laughed some more and was in a daze to say the least. She must have been joking! No way had I just pulled something like that off so easily! There must’ve been a catch! Still, I chose not to push my luck and just laughed some more, then told her that I had to settle some things into my dorm and signed off.

God, you must be kidding! This must be a sick joke! I could never! How would I be able to let her do that if she didn’t know that I liked being babied? No…she has to know. I…I have to tell her.

I sighed as I browsed the internet aimlessly. Jill must’ve been joking. But, what if she wasn’t? I’d be able to decline her offer when she came up to visit, but wouldn’t that ultimately lead to her finding out about me? No. I didn’t want to wait until the last minute to tell her! I felt that we knew each other enough for me to be able to trust her with something so…dark (I call it dark because my secret had never seen the light of day nor the tip of my tongue). My body and mind soon became torn between letting her know and keeping it to myself and continuing to fear judgment. Another week would pass before I made my decision, along with some other contributing factors.

My suitemates were some of the coolest people I’d met, and I had made a few acquaintances within the first few days of classes, but for some reason I still felt so alone. I’d heard that every college kid goes through that phase, but I for one didn’t like it at all. I needed to cheer myself up, and quick! That was when I came up with an idea that would be sure to make me happy and shake off my negative feelings: I’d finally try out a diaper. Nothing too fancy. I’d just wear one and see how it and I felt. So, that Wednesday night before I went to bed, I carefully looked around the internet to see what I could find. I wanted to make sure that I was getting my money’s worth, but I also needed to ensure that my purchase would be discrete.

I went to a few of the online infantilist communities and snooped around the forums in search of recommendations of a good brand to try out. Some users wrote that the typical adult diapers were fine, but there was one brand that kept popping up, and every single user swore that it was the best: CoucheCoos (pronounced cootchie coos…so original, I know). Every single post regarding this diaper was positive. I couldn’t find one single bad thing about it. Super thick, babyish smell, discrete shipping, decent price…they were soon going to be mine! Before the clock struck midnight, I had purchased an eight pack of these seemingly legendary diapers for about twelve bucks, including shipping. They would arrive in my dorm mailbox within the next week. Sure they’d have to be hidden whenever I’d have people in my room, but I wasn’t really concerned at the moment. No, I was much too happy with my purchase! All’s I had to was wait and make sure that nobody on campus saw what was inside of the package once it arrived!

The following week I checked my mailbox every single day. I’d gotten a bunch of junk mail from credit card companies, and soon became discouraged when my package didn’t arrive. I had a couple of more days before the week ended, but it still brought my spirits down. Then, it happened. As soon as I shut my mailbox, one of the RA’s called my name from behind the desk.

“Are you John Morrows?” she asked.

“Y-yes. Hi!” I said with a smile.

“Hello! You’ve got a package back here! Someone must’ve forgotten to put it in your mailbox today!”

My head felt like a balloon, just floating and expanding, waiting to explode from the excitement. I tried my hardest not to blush, and I think I did pretty well, because the RA didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, well thanks! I can take it right now if that’s okay.” I said kindly.

“Sure thing! Just sign here!” she handed me a pen and pointed on the piece of paper.

My heartbeat quickened as my hand swiftly guided the pen across the paper. It was mine! I had done it! The RA gently moved the box around in her hand, but no sounds came from it.

What the hell are you doing?! If that box breaks…

“Pretty big box!” she observed.

“Yeah. They always do that when you order something! Place the items in a huge box with all of those damned packing peanuts!” I joked.

The RA laughed as she handed me my treasure. I thanked her and excitedly hurried off to my car. As soon as I saw that nobody was around, I opened the trunk of my car and carefully placed the box inside. Then, like an excited kid on Christmas, I opened the box as quickly as possible as I held my breath. Beneath the cardboard encasement was yet another package, only this one looked similar to that of a pack of baby wipes. I searched my surroundings once more. The coast was clear. I was going for it! I ripped open the white pack, and soon gasped in awe. There they were; the diapers. The biggest diapers that I’d ever seen in my entire life! They were stacked so perfectly, and the babyish smell that came from them was intoxicating, almost mesmerizing. I took four out of the box and quickly placed them in my book bag, then covered the box with an old blanket and closed my trunk.

I-I can’t believe it! I did it! Wake me up if I’m dreaming! Ha! Hahaha! Come tonight, I will finally have done it!

I practically ran back to my dorm, smiling and saying hello to everyone along the way. My suitemates asked me what I was all happy about when I entered the dorm, but I simply told them that it’d just kicked in that I was away from my parents for an extended period of time. I walked into my room and closed the door lightly so to not make anyone suspicious. My bag was placed on my bed and unzipped in one quick movement. I gently pulled out the four plastic pieces of gold and held them up as if I’d just discovered some ancient secret.

I ran my hands over them slowly and breathed in their infantile scent. The plastic/cloth combination on the outside was just as I’d imagined; so soft and without any wrinkles, with the baby blocks on the front as a decoration. I then made my way to the inside of the diaper and felt my endorphins make their way into my bloodstream. So cottony soft, so comfortable, and the scent only increased when it was opened. The tabs were symmetrical from each other as I carefully examined them. Whoever made these knew their target market quite well! I quickly placed all four of them in my closet and placed them inside of a shoebox, then covered the shoebox with a bunch of bathroom towels. Just a few more hours remained, then I would finally be able to try out what I’d been longing for!

That night, after I’d eaten a little snack and gotten ready for bed, I felt ready. That is, until I thought of something: my suitemates. Would they hear me or the diaper? That’s when I came up with yet another ingenious idea.

“Hey Dan! You notice how thick these freaking doors are?” I asked my suitemate.

“Oh shit!” he said as he examined the door. “You’re right! Ha!”

“I wonder how good they are at blocking sound?”

“Only one way to find out!”

Dan closed his door and within moments blared his oldies music. While I could hear muffled vocals and instruments, I was confident that I’d be okay. I then told my suitemates that I was tired and I had class early tomorrow (hey, 10:00 is early!) and was soon in my room. The shades were closed, the doors were shut, and the only source of light came from my desk lamp. The stage was set, the locks were secured…I was ready.

I quietly removed my pajamas and boxers and listened for any footsteps that could’ve been heading towards my door. Once I was certain that nobody was coming, I took the shoebox out of its hiding place and pulled one of the diapers out. My hand trembled with excitement as I unfolded and opened up the diaper. This thing was huge! It extended from my toes to my thighs! I became even more excited as I laid myself and the diaper down on the floor. The softness that I felt made me freeze for a brief moment so I could soak in the feeling, but I knew it’d just get better once I was done. I folded the diaper over my front, then quietly taped the diaper up on the left side, then the right side. I was enveloped in babyish softness! The padding I felt between my legs and on my bottom gave me a natural high! I touched the diaper with my hands and almost laughed out loud. This was amazing! I then stood up to look at myself in the mirror. That’s when I noticed that the diaper wasn’t exactly taped up too tightly. It sagged a little, but I pulled it up and tried to refasten the tapes. That only helped a little, but I knew it was impossible to get them on just right without help from somebody else. I opened the closet door where my mirror was and looked at myself. My diaper was gigantic and my tee-shirt just barely covered it! I looked almost like an infant and I couldn’t help but to laugh at myself for looking rather silly. I tried to close my legs together, and when I realized I could barely do that, I laughed a little more.

The clock told me that it was getting late, so I put the rest of the diapers away and landed gently on my bed with just my diaper and shirt on. My high was euphoric, and nothing would bring it down. Why hadn’t I tried this sooner? Why had I locked away my desire for so long? I was a fool to say the least!

I then wondered about Jill as I stared at my ceiling. Would she handle this well, and if so, would she be able to keep the secret between us? I could only hope. That night, I made a promise to myself that before Jill came up to visit, she’d know about me…she’d know…that I was an infantilist. I fell asleep wrapped up in my diaper and beneath my covers, and slept the best that I’d ever slept before.

Chapter 4

The next morning I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside. The sun barely shone through the blinds, but my body told me that it was time to get up. After I stretched, I threw my covers off and stood to my feet to stretch. I looked down and remembered that I was wearing a diaper, and it was a good thing I remembered, because I almost walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth! The clock read 8:00; two hours before I had to be in class. I knew that it was time to take the diaper off, and so I did. No way would I even try to wear one underneath my clothes. This was a personal matter, and the thought of wandering around in public with my secret practically screaming beneath my boxers made me cringe.

I carefully slid the diaper down since it hadn’t been taped on too tightly, threw my boxers and pajamas on, hid the now useless diaper, and took a quick shower.

That must have been the greatest thing I’ve ever experienced! I’m not so sure about actually using a diaper, though…that’s just…not my thing, and I imagine that anyone who would want to baby me would find that rather disgusting. I don’t need to take it THAT far. Now, for Jill…she needs to know. Ah, Jill…tonight or tomorrow is when you will find out.

I took a deep breath as I exited the shower and prepared for the day. This confession would take both thought and courage…I was missing the courage part of the plan, though a part of me was begging to let everything out.

That night after dinner and some Frisbee with my suitemates, I headed back into my room and worked on some assignments. Jill would be on the messenger soon, and when she signed on, it’d be time for me to spill my guts out.

Just as I finished a crappy essay for my English 101 course, Jill’s name appeared on my screen. Within seconds she IM’d me with a hello, and we started chatting. We told each other about our day and what we had planned for the weekend, as well as how excited we both were about her coming up to visit me. It was a conversation that was no different from any other, until I finally mustered the courage to admit what was beginning to feel like my flaw.

 

Me: Hey, Jill. Have you ever known something so big that you were too afraid to tell anybody, but at the same time you wished to tell someone about it?

 

Jill: Honestly, I can’t say that I have, haha.

 

Me: Ohhh. I see.

 

Jill: Something wrong?

 

She knew…through a screen, she could tell.

 

Me: Kind of =\

 

Jill: Awww. Well, do you want to talk about it?

 

Me: I can try, but…you see, I’ve never talked about it before with anybody, and it’s been bothering me for quite some time now…almost thirteen years.

 

Jill: Jeez! Thirteen years?!

 

Me: Yeahhh. Well, it’s personal. I’m afraid of what people would think if they found out, and I’d heard my parents criticize and ridicule people like me before.

 

Jill: John…are you-are you gay?

 

Me: Hahaha! Nooo! Not at all!

 

Jill: Oh haha. Sorry! I just wanted to make sure.

 

Me: Well, rest assured. I’m definitely straight as an arrow!

 

Jill: Good! Well then, I don’t mean to pry, but what is it? That is, if you don’t mind telling me.

 

My hands trembled violently and smacked the keyboard. I felt a combination of sorrow and confidence as I tried to type out what I wished to say.

 

Me: Okay. Here goes…sorry, this may take a while!

 

Jill: It’s okay!

 

Me: You know how you joke around and call me a baby? And how you like to jokingly treat me like one sometimes?

 

Jill: Yeah?

 

Me: Well…I…I like that. I like to be treated that way, but like in real life, too.

 

I cursed myself for pressing the “Enter” key and soon wished if I could turn back the clock.

 

Me: I know it’s odd, but there’s just something about it that makes me extremely happy and makes me forget about stressful things and stuff like that.

 

Jill: It’s okay. I kind of figured you liked that kind of thing. I mean, you have been my “baby” for a while now! Haha. If it makes you happy, then go for it! I don’t care!

 

Oh, my, God!

 

Me: Jill…thank you! You don’t even understand how relieved I am right now! My hands are trembling! I’ve never told anyone this before, and I was so afraid that you’d never speak to me again .

 

Jill: Awww John, you dork! Lol. I’d never not speak to you! So you like being a little baby sometimes! No big deal!

 

Saints be praised! This was my dream come true!

 

Me: Really?

 

Jill: Sure! But it does make me curious…are you into like everything baby? Lol.

 

Me: Nahhh lol. I mean, I like the diapers, being fed a bottle and spoonfed, and being babytalked and stuff, but I’d never use a diaper or talk like a baby lol. Just some basic things.

 

Our counseling session was going so well that I knew nothing would go wrong! And it didn’t!

 

Jill: Ohh I see.

 

Me: *sighs in relief* you don’t even know how happy I am right now! Here I thought you wouldn’t even come up to visit anymore!

 

Jill: Pshhh, you nerd! Of course I’m still coming up!

 

Me: Well good! I promise we’ll have a good time! I’ve got some things planned!

 

Jill: Sweet! Hmmm, I just might have to get you some diapers when I’m up! Hehehe.

 

Me: You wouldn’t!

 

Jill: Ohhhh I think I would! You just show me where a supermarket is, and I’ll get them! Heck, I’ll get you a bottle and pacifier while I’m at it, too! Haha.

 

Saints be praised! She didn’t mind and she claimed that she wanted to baby me! I almost fell backwards out of my chair from being so overwhelmed!

 

Me: Ohh jeez! Well if that’s the case, I’ll let you feed me and take care of me then.

 

Jill: That’s the plan, dork! Haha.

 

We talked about normal things for the rest of the night, and Jill really did seem to not mind about me being an infantilist. She even babied me some more before I signed off! Just two more weeks and she’d be up, and then I’d find out if she was really serious about wanting to baby me. I thought about how wonderful of an experience it’d be and soon envisioned Jill cradling me in her lap and smiling down at me. Once again my natural high returned. There was now no turning back; I’d finally get what I always wanted, though at the time I didn’t know that things are not always what they seem.

The two weeks rolled right by. By Friday afternoon, I was amped and ready for Jill to come up. Now let’s get one thing straight: while I was excited about her wanting to baby me, I was more excited about actually hanging out with her, and I told myself that if things didn’t turn out as well as I’d thought and for some reason that she wound up not wanting to baby me, then I wouldn’t care and would make the best of our time together. She was far too good of a friend to let something like that ruin our friendship.

Call it God or call it fate, but my suitemates had gone home for the entire weekend, leaving the dorm to me and Jill. I was bummed since I wanted to hang out with them as well, but I was also happy since it was going to be like I had my own apartment. My cell phone vibrated inside of my pocket; Jill was calling.

“What’s up, dork?” I joked.

“Ohh nothing buddy! I’m in your parking lot! Can you come out and find me so I don’t get lost?” Jill asked.

“Absolutely! I’ll wait in front of the Commons building, so just look for me there!”

“Sure thing! See you in a few!”

I bolted to the Commons area and shifted my eyes in every direction of the parking lot. A red car was soon in my sights, and at first I couldn’t tell who was driving it, but then I got a glimpse of the driver’s face and I immediately knew: it was Jill! I waved and pointed to my left to let her know where to park.

I headed over to the empty spot and anxiously waited for her to park her car. Once parked, she smiled as she got out of the car, ran over to me as fast as she could, and gave me one of the most heartfelt hugs I’d ever received. Her long blonde hair gently hit my face from the light breeze, and she smelled of an intoxicating perfume.

“Ohhh it’s so good to finally see you!” I said as I returned the hug.

“It’s good to see you too, John!”

Who’d have thought that two strangers who met in a chat room would ever be so lucky? With all of the crazy people pretending to be something or someone they’re not these days, it’s so rare to find a true friend, especially on the internet! And here was this beautiful young woman with captivating brown eyes and a slightly petite build. My friend. My truest friend.

“Well, let me help you bring your stuff into my dorm!”

“Ohh a real gentleman, eh?” she snickered.

“You know it! Chivalry isn’t dead in my book!”

“Good to know! Sheesh, I can barely get a guy to open a damned door for me these days!”

“Well, my friend, you’re in for a treat this weekend, then! You can expect nothing but good manners from me, and you can thank my parents for it!”

We chuckled as we headed inside. I explained to Jill that my suitemates weren’t around, but I still promised her that we’d have a good weekend. I showed her around the place, and she seemed quite impressed by the single rooms (then again, what college student wouldn’t? Single rooms rule!)

“Now, you’ve got some options on where you’d like to sleep while you’re here. You can either sleep in my bed, on the living room couch, or I can set up some sleeping bags on the floor and you can sleep there. My bed is the most comfortable of the three, so you’re more than welcome to sleep there. Of course I’d sleep on the floor or on the couch! Don’t want you to think I’m trying to pull any moves on you or anything!”

“Ha! I know you too well to know that you wouldn’t do such a thing! I’ll let you know when it’s time for bed where I’d like to sleep.” Jill smiled.

I knew she was happy to be treated so nicely, and I thanked God that I’d been raised the way I had. So many vicious dogs out there who want nothing more than to fulfill their few seconds of pleasure. They taint everything they touch while us nice guys remain single because we’re not “the bad boys”.

Once Jill was settled in, we began our weekend with dinner at some Italian restaurant on the west side of Hansen. I can’t recall the name of it now, but I do remember that it was a bit pricy. Still, we enjoyed ourselves and talked about what was ahead for the weekend, as well as Jill’s drive over.

I felt an even greater connection between me and her that night. Maybe seeing each other in person helped, or maybe it was still the fact that she didn’t shun me when I told her that I was an infantilist. I’d never know.

Our night continued with more good times and good laughs, and soon it was getting late. I yawned as we headed back to my car, and Jill giggled lightly.

“Hmmm, someone’s getting tired already?” she nudged my side.

I chose not to push the sleepy baby joke just yet. It was only the first night, and I didn’t want things to get awkward.

“Just a little.”

“You sleepy baby!”

Or maybe they wouldn’t!

I felt my face burn as we headed back towards the college, but I laughed and made it seem like nothing was wrong. For some reason it felt weird being called that in person, most likely because I had never experienced it before.

“Oh yes…that’s me!” I chuckled.

“No kidding! It’s only midnight!”

“Yeah, yeah… ‘only midnight’. Dork.”

“Haha! Shut it, jerk!” Jill retorted playfully.

“Make me!” I laughed.

“Well, if I had my pacifier here, I would!”

I laughed even harder as I felt the hairs on my arms stick straight up. She’d just jolted me with a verbal shock.

“S-sure you would!”

“Nah! I’d never do that to you! That’s just mean!”

“Good! I’d be sad if you did that in a mean manner.”

“I know, buddy. Don’t worry! I promise I’d never do anything like that!”

We laughed and chatted for the rest of the drive. Once back at the dorm, I got out of the car and stretched a bit as Jill did the same.

“Hmmm…now I’m getting tired.” she yawned as we headed inside.

“Ha! Who’s the sleepy baby now!” I joked.

“You are!”

“Haha, I know. Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to get my pajamas on.”

“Sounds like a plan, man!” Jill walked over to her bag of clothing and rummaged through her things.

I hurried into my room and quickly got dressed into my night clothes, and as soon as I went back into the living room, Jill was also dressed in a pink pajama bottoms and a tank top.

“Wanna watch some TV before bed?” she asked me.

“Sure!” I jumped at the opportunity and made myself comfortable on the couch.

I expected Jill to sit on the other end of the couch, but instead she cuddled up next to me and placed her head on my chest. My left arm soon found its way around her shoulder, and we found ourselves watching some old school movie.

“Is this okay?” Jill asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Good. I like to cuddle.”

“Me too.” I said.

We watched the movie most of the way through, but I noticed that I’d started nodding off. Jill gently shook me and whispered into my ear, “John…I think it’s bed time for you.”

“Yeah…this sleepy baby is…sleepy!”

“Aww,” Jill giggled, “I bet he is! Well, let’s get you into bed then!”

“Wait…don’t you want to sleep in my bed?” I asked groggily.

“I think there’s room for a sleepy baby and me, don’t you? Unless you don’t want to.”

Oh, like I’m going to say no!

It’d been my hopes that Jill would want to sleep next to me in my bed. There was just something about cuddling up to somebody in a bed that helped me sleep better, and since she’d offered, I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity.

“That’s fine.”

“Okay then, mister! Let’s go!” Jill grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet as she turned off the television.

Once we entered my room, I peeled back the covers from my bed and hopped in. The bed wasn’t really meant for two people to sleep in it, but I didn’t care. I’d make the best out of the night. I moved over as far as I could, and soon after, Jill climbed in. We positioned ourselves comfortably on the mattress and soon the lights were turned off.

Jill guided my head with her hand until the side of my face was against her shoulder. What was she doing? I didn’t resist, but I still became a bit anxious. She then placed one hand over my stomach and stroked my hair and the side of my face with the other.

“Hehe,” she giggled, “I’m a bit too tired to try to cradle you right now, but hopefully this is okay.”

I just about melted into her complexion as I smiled.

“This is fine. Thank you.”

“Anytime, mister.”

Jill then gently rocked back and forth. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was just light enough for me to feel it, and a little piece of bliss entered my veins. Part of me wondered if she felt obligated to do this for me since I’d told her, but then I thought about it further: She could’ve told me she didn’t want any part of this if she truly wasn’t comfortable with it.

The sweet sound of silence took over the room as Jill’s hand continued to brush against my face. The feeling lulled me into an even further state of sleepiness, and soon after, I was just about ready to go to sleep.

“Are you comfortable?” I asked Jill as I faced her.

“Almost.” she replied as she turned the other way. “Can I have your hand?”

I sent my arm over her side, and she clasped it in hers, then said, “Now I’m comfortable.”

I laughed lightly and decided to try to keep myself awake until I was sure that Jill had fallen asleep. The night had brought me nothing but wonderful things, and it made me wonder what was in store for us the next night, the last night that we had with each other for the weekend. I hoped that it would be just as good as the first night, maybe better. Would she really baby me for real? And if she did, would I be courageous enough to let her? I had never dressed like that in front of anyone, nor really even talked about it with her in person or on the phone.

I shut out all of the thoughts for the night and soon fell asleep, thanking God for what was given to me.

* * *

Morning came by rather quickly, or so it seemed to me. Jill slept peacefully next to me, and I decided that even though I wanted to get out of bed that I’d remain where I was so she wouldn’t wake up. After all, it was the least I could do for her after last night. I would remain in my bed for another half hour before she’d wake up that morning.

“Mmm…you awake, John?” she yawned as she stretched.

“Yep.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

“Fun, fun. I guess I should get up, huh?”

“If you want to sleep more, that’s fine.” I offered.

“Nah. We’ve gotta have fun for the rest of the day, right?” she looked over at me.

“Right you are!”

We both dragged ourselves out of bed, and I stretched as I stood up. It took about an hour for both of us to shower and get ready for the day, and it irked me a bit. Time always seems to fly by when you don’t want it to. It’s like a stupid trick that God plays on people whenever they want time to slow down. Or, even worse, time remains slow when you want it to go by quick! A mind boggling thought!

We started the day out with some death food—er, college food. It wasn’t horrible, but it was definitely a far cry from the food at home. Next came the mini golf, then a trip to the bookstore and the mall. Jill seemed to be having just as good of a time as I was, which was what I was aiming for. I think the best time was in the video store, though. We walked past the adult movies section and soon got into a discussion about how embarrassed people must’ve felt when they browsed through that section. I chose to use my humor and quickly called over a clerk.

“Excuse me, sir!” I asked as Jill became puzzled.

“Yes?” the clerk asked as he headed over in my direction.

“Could you please tell me where your inappropriate DVD’s are?”

“I-Inappropriate? U-umm…they’re right behind you.” the clerk was obviously embarrassed.

“Thank you!”

Jill busted out laughing, and I soon followed.

“John, you’re such a dork! That poor kid!”

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll remember this day for the rest of his life!” I laughed.

“Too true!”

We continued our day of fun until dinner time. Once again we went out to eat, only this time Jill offered to pay.

“Nonsense! With gas prices so high, you need to save your money, my friend!” I assured her.

“Come on! You paid last night!”

“True, but my parents gave me a bunch of money, plus I have a decent amount saved up. Don’t worry about it!”

“If you say so! Thanks, John.” Jill smiled.

“You’re quite welcome.”

Dinner went by rather quickly, and we were soon on our way back to my dorm once again. However, this time, Jill asked me if we could stop at the supermarket. I had an odd feeling that I knew what was coming up.

“S-sure!” I said nervously as I headed towards the next exit. “I could use some popsicles and other senseless items!”

“Dork! Haha!”

We soon found ourselves inside of the store, strolling around. I didn’t know where anything was since I’d never been there before.

“So, what do you need to get?” I asked Jill.

“Well, I could use some more my acne wash.”

“Ah, I see.”

“And I need to get some things for you.” she looked over at me with a smile.

My heart pounded against my chest. I knew what she was talking about, but I just didn’t believe it.

“Oh, boy! I wonder what it could be?”

“Hehehehe I think you know!”

We walked around the store some more, and I picked up a case of popsicles and some other random items that I probably didn’t need. Jill got her acne wash, and then we found it: the baby aisle. I felt as though I was facing the beast. I could feel my pulse in my neck as we delved further down the aisle.

“Are you okay?” Jill asked.

Damn…she must see the look on my face.

“Just nervous. I’ve never done this, you know.”

“Really?”

“Well…I bought some diapers a few weeks ago, but I ordered them online because I was too afraid to buy them in a public place.”

“Ohhh, so you have some diapers already?” she asked quietly with a smile on her face.

“Y-yeah.” I blushed.

“That’s great! We can just buy some baby stuff, and if anyone asks, we’ll tell them we’re going to a baby shower! Hehe!”

“We could…but…do you think maybe we could go to different registers? I’m afraid that people will know something’s up by the look on my face.”

“Awww, sure! Not a problem, buddy! Don’t worry.”

Jill seemed to know what she was doing as she quickly picked up some baby powder, baby wipes, a baby bottle, and a green pacifier. She didn’t once ask me questions about what she was buying, and I think it was because she knew that I was a bit uncomfortable about the whole being in public thing. Instead, she simply looked at me whenever she picked up an item and I’d smile and nod if I approved.

This…is happening. I can’t…believe it! Will this be it?

“Hmm…” Jill whispered as she held onto all of the items. “I think this is everything. I take it you don’t like baby food?”

“Not at all,” I chuckled, “though I like being fed.”

“Interesting. Well then! We can be on our way! You go out the other end of the aisle and then buy your things. I’ll come out of this side and wait to see you leave.”

“Jill, I can’t even explain how grateful I am for having you around and for what you’re doing right now.”

“Aww! Think nothing of it! I’ll be right behind you!”

Our plan worked out perfectly. Nobody asked questions, nobody saw us together (I was really more afraid that some of the students at the college would be there and see me than anything else), and we found our way back to my dorm. I could barely contain my emotions, but I knew I had to because I didn’t want to frighten Jill or attract any attention before we got inside.

Inside of the dorm, I anxiously and nervously placed my items where they belonged. Jill kept her items in her grocery bag and waited until I was finished.

“Are you ready?” she asked. “If you don’t want to do this, it’s okay.”

“I do…I’m just still nervous because I’ve never done it before, and I don’t want you to be weirded out.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never done this before, either! I mean, I’ve babysat, but I’ve never taken care of somebody your size.” she giggled.

“Yeah.” I laughed. “Well, how should we go about doing this?”

“Well I think it’d be good if you locked your main door and shut your windows and blinds.”

I did all of the following in a matter of two minutes, then returned to where Jill was.

“Now, why don’t you tell me exactly what you want, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Well, I really want to be treated like an infant. Not a toddler, but a little baby. You know, be put in diapers, be cooed and cuddled, and fed. Maybe tickled and burped.” I blushed, feeling extremely silly.

“I see. Now you said you didn’t like talking like a baby or using your diapers, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t know about those…it just seems weird…although what am I saying? The whole thing is odd!” I chuckled.

“Aw it’s alright! But that’s good about not using your diapers, because then I’d be a little freaked out.”

“Well, there’s something else about the diaper…I…kind of wondered what it’d be like to get changed into one. I mean, after I’m already in one. So I wouldn’t use it, but I’d still need a new one, as silly as that sounds.”

“Hmmmmmm…well, I think I can try to manage all of those things! I might have to improvise due to your size, though!” Jill said calmly with a smile.

“I understand.”

“Well, are you ready then?”

Come on, John. Remember the risks! Life is nothing without them! Just try it and get it over with! This is what you’ve always wanted!

“I’m ready.”

[CDfm]

Really enjoyed this so far. While I didn’t follow a similar path, this story is one that I’d frequently heard. Infantilism begins at a young age without any apparent reason and lasts a lifetime no matter how hard they try and resist it.  I really like the addition of the caretaker/girlfriend in this story. I sure hope to see it continued. I was happy to be able to give this a like. 

[Dr_J]

Thanks again for the feedback! I appreciate it. Here are the next 2 chapters.

Chapter Five

Jill and I walked into my bedroom. She held her bag close as I again shut the door and locked it. I had to keep my bases secured!

“Okay, John. Now, where are these diapers that you bought?”

I went into the closet and dug out the shoebox, then handed it to Jill. She removed the top and smiled.

“These are so cute! They’re like a big baby’s diaper!”

“Hehe, that’s-that’s why I bought them.” I blushed more.

“Awww. Well then, I imagine you might be very embarrassed about me seeing you naked and all, but please know that I’ve seen guys before. So, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“O-okay. This is just new for me, so I’m really nervous and excited.”

“It’s okay! Would-would you like me to undress you?” Jill asked kindly.

“Would I?” I laughed.

“Alright then, my baby! Lie down on the bed, please.”

I did as I was instructed and faced the ceiling, my legs partially hanging off the end of the bed.

“I think it’s time to get you into a fwesh diaper!” Jill cooed as she removed my shorts and boxers.

I felt myself melt into the bed. I was half naked, on my bed, with a beautiful young woman waiting to put a diaper on me. I knew that sooner or later I’d become aroused, but I did my best to stop it from happening, for Jill would’ve probably become upset. My entire body turned to putty as she smiled down at me.

“What a cutie pie!” Jill said as she placed three diapers and the other baby items on the bed next to me. “Would you like your pacifier?”

I nodded with a smile as I felt my face continue to burn with excitement and embarrassment. Jill giggled lightly as she took the pacifier out of the package and gently placed it into my mouth. I sucked on it and couldn’t help but smile even further.

“Awwww, what a cute widdle baby! Now, it’s diaper time for you, little man!”

Jill opened up the baby wipes and pulled a few out, smiling as she smelled them.

“Smells so nice! See?” she said as she waved the wipes in front of my nose.

I nodded as I sucked on the pacifier. Jill then slowly started to wipe me down, making sure to get everywhere that the diaper would be covering. The feeling was beyond my comprehension, and I soon felt like I was floating on thin air.

“Now, I need your help with this part. Can you help lift your legs up? I’ll still hold onto them, too, I just think it’ll make things easier.”

I soon raised my legs just a bit, and Jill cooed and responded with, “Aww, what a good widdle baby!”

Jill then placed her one arm under both of my legs as if to lift them, then wiped my backside ever so gently. The feeling was heavenly! I felt a bond between me and Jill that was stronger than any bond I’d ever had with another person…even my own parents.

I lowered my legs once Jill was finished, and then she took the canister of baby powder and twisted the cap open. I could immediately smell the infantile scent of the powder as some of it escaped through the little holes on the top of the container. That’s when I couldn’t avoid becoming aroused, and I started to blush and feel a bit ashamed, but I didn’t let Jill know.

“Hmm, you like this, eh? It’s okay. I’d be a bit startled if you didn’t get like that during a time like this. Now, it’s time to powder you up, sleepy baby! No dydee rash for you!” she giggled.

I sighed and continued to suck on the pacifier as I heard those words escape Jill’s lips. Thankfully she didn’t care about my reaction. That was what I was most afraid of, because while I did feel a sense of bliss, this other feeling wasn’t something that I was expecting, and I was so sure that it would ruin the moment. Boy was I wrong!

Jill shook the powder with ease until she was satisfied that my skin was as white as snow. The smell brought my high to a new level as I felt Jill gently rubbing the powder in. I felt my breaths grow shorter as she continued this motion.

“Okay, mister. Could you lift up again for me?”

I lifted my legs once again, and Jill then powdered my bottom generously, giggling lightly as she did so. I too giggled as I continued to keep the pacifier in my mouth.

“You’ve got to be the best baby I’ve taken care of!” she laughed. “Most babies I watch kick and squirm! But not you! No, you’re too good of a baby waby to do that, aren’t ya? Ohhh yes you are!”

I’ve heard of people who claimed that they’ve been awakened after going to a spiritual gathering or who’ve found out who they truly were after they’d suffered some form of torture. I for one will gladly admit that this experience brought out every good feeling my body could come up with. It was like I’d just been given some super potent muscle relaxant, only it was laced with some kind of ecstasy that made me think about nothing but the situation at hand.

Once done with the powder, Jill then grabbed a diaper off of the bed and carefully opened it up.

“Awwwwww, just wook at this dydee! All big and puffy, and so cute with the prints on it! I can see why you got these! I bet they look so cute on you, too! Hehe now I get to find out! Keep those legs up, baby!” Jill said playfully as she waved the diaper around.

I did as she instructed, and soon she slid the diaper gently beneath me, making sure that it came up just above my backside. She lowered my legs down and smiled at me some more.

“Mmm, you smell so fresh! You know what that means! It’s time to get that cute diaper on you!”

She seems as though she’s enjoying this just as much as I am!

“Oh yes! Dydee time for you! Here we go!”

Jill grabbed the front of the diaper and carefully placed it just above my waistline. She then worked on the left side of the diaper until it was all taped up nice and snug, then did the same on the right side. I’d done it! I’d just been diapered for the first time!

“Alllll done! You cute little baby! You and your cute dydee and you lil’ pacifier. Awwwww.” she gently patted the front of my diaper, completely fine with my manhood’s current state of excitement.

I went to sit up, but Jill giggled as she pushed me back down, lifted my shirt, and lightly muzzled my stomach, making me laugh.

“Tickwish baby! That’s you! Yes it is!”

I briefly took the pacifier out of my mouth and gave Jill a heartfelt “thank you.” She again said it was no problem and then told me that the night wasn’t over yet. She asked me if I’d like to crawl around for a bit before she fed me, to which I nodded my head and made my way to the floor.

“Hm...would you like me to go down there with you, baby?”

“Mhm!”

Jill sat down on the floor while I briefly crawled around. She gently patted my diapered butt and tickled me some. After a bit of crawling, she placed both hands on either side of my body, pulled me into her lap and started tickling and muzzling me more, cooing the whole time.

“Gootchie goo! You cutie pie! You’re so cute!” she was on a cuteness rampage as she continued to tickle me!

I couldn’t help but bust out in laughter and eventually my pacifier fell out of my mouth from laughing so hard. I didn’t cry or anything silly like that. I just laughed even harder, and Jill as well.

“I think it’s time for you to eat, mister! Let’s go into the living room, okay? You want to crawl there or do you want me to help you in?” she looked at me with complete adoration, as if I was a real infant.

I knew she couldn’t carry me there, but I still wished she could. I asked that she helped me in since I felt a bit silly crawling around. She completely understood and got me to my feet.

“Okay baby! Here we go! A little bit at a time! I’ve got you!” Jill said as she grabbed my hand with one of hers and placed her other hand where my diaper and my lower back met.

We made our way to the couch, and she told me to wait right there as she got my food ready. I of course complied. I didn’t want to be mischievous or silly…no, I just wanted to be babied and nothing else!

Jill came through the hallway as I sat on the couch, and I couldn’t help but smile. I had just as much adoration for her as she did for me, and I think she knew it, because she sat down on the end of the couch and motioned for me to go to her. I moved over to her, and she instantly placed my head up by her shoulder with a pillow against the arm of the couch so I was propped up. She then held me even more tightly than before with her one hand beneath my diapered butt and the other with a bottle in her hand.

“I think you know what time it is, baby! Baba time! Drink up!” she cooed as she gently guided the bottle’s nipple to my mouth.

I gladly accepted the bottle and soon started sucking away at it as Jill gently rocked me and patted my butt. The feeling, added with everything else that had happened, soon made me appreciate more than just the weekend’s events. My family, my friends, Jill…my life, all just really made me happy. I didn’t think about any assignments I had to do, or how much I was going to miss Jill when she left, or anything negative. I simply thought about where I was then and now. I was a mere baby who was being cared for by a wonderful woman who simply adored the person I was.

The bottle was finished in ten minutes, and Jill giggled as she told me in a babyish voice how quick of a drinker I was.

“Let’s get those little bubbles out of baby’s tummy. Come on up here.” Jill cooed as she sat me up and placed my head over her shoulder.

My legs found their way around Jill, but I made sure that I wasn’t actually sitting on her, as I knew I was a bit bigger than she was. Jill stroked my hair again and started to pat my back and diapered bottom gently as she continued to rock back and forth. I held onto her so tightly at that moment that I didn’t think anyone could’ve gotten us apart if they tried. I was became aroused once again as Jill continued to coo me and burp me.

I let out a few fake burps just to add to the feeling, and Jill got a kick out of this.

“Awwwwwwww, burpy-wurpy! Good baby boy! Hmmm, I feel something in your diaper…does my baby need another changey-wangey?” she cooed as she looked at me with a grin.

Now, Jill knew that I didn’t want to try using my diaper, but I think she asked me this question not because she thought that I had actually used it, but because she knew that it added to the feeling that I’d yearned for. That, and she was obviously aware of my erection. I jokingly shook my head no and laughed a bit.

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm!” I smiled.

“I think you may need a diaper change, baby! Let’s check your cute lil’ dydee!” she cooed even more as she took her hand and pulled on the back of my diaper as if to check it.

“Nothing there…” she giggled.

Jill then sat me a tiny bit away from her and felt the front of my diaper, which made me squirm with pleasure.

“Awwwwwww I tink you need to be changed again! You need another nice, fwesh dydee and some powder, don’t you? Don’t you? Oh yes you do! Yes you do!”

I giggled and wondered what Jill had planned. She gently helped me off of the couch and led me back into my bedroom the same way she’d led me out. Instead of laying me back on my bed, Jill took my blanket, laid it out on the floor, and motioned for me to lay down on it. Without hesitation I laid back on the blanket and smiled. I could feel my manhood trying to stick straight up, but the diaper made it impossible. Jill noticed, too.

She grabbed the diaper changing supplies off of the bed and gently set them next to me on the blanket. Then, she moved my legs apart and knelt down in between them.

“I know you didn’t use your diaper,” she laughed, “I just thought it’d add to the fun and feeling. Here’s your pacifier, mister!”

What did I tell you? I accepted the pacifier again and prepared for the last diaper change I’d get for the night.

“Let’s get you out of this dydee and into a nice, new one! Yessss. Then baby will be all fwesh and happy! I’ll make sure you’re nice and snug in your dydee again. Ohh yes I will!”

Jill leaned over me a bit so she could reach the tapes of the diaper. She ripped open the left tapes, then worked on the right side until the front of the diaper slowly peeled down. I was definitely dry, but Jill still wanted me to feel as babyish as I possibly could.

“Awww, you wet your dydee! Poor baby! It okey dokey! Jilly’s here to give you a dydee wydee changey wangey! Oop! And what’s this?” she cooed as she pulled the front of the diaper further down and saw what she had felt earlier. “Aww that must be uncomfortable, being all twapped in your dydee. It’s okay! I’ll take good care of you!”

No way. This is a dream! I’ll wake up and she won’t be here! And-oh…

Jill covered my manhood with the opened diaper and pressed down a bit. That was when I had to make sure that she wanted this. Part of me couldn’t shake the thought that she may have felt obligated to do this, so I asked if she was okay with it, just to make sure.

“Shhh. I’m completely fine with it.” was all she said with a smile on her face.

So I allowed her to continue for a moment as my body continued to reawaken itself even further. It made me wonder if this is how someone felt when they woke up from a coma. I could feel the cloth pressed against me as Jill continued to lovingly make me feel extra special.

I could barely take it anymore, and I truly thought that I was going to burst, but Jill wouldn’t stop. It was like she wanted me to experience this, and so I did. I no longer restricted myself and let my body finish its natural process. I was invincible! I smiled as if I’d just conquered the planet with Jill at my side!

“Alllll better! Now let’s finish getting your diaper changed.”

And so she did. Just like before, she started the diapering process, making sure to remove my old diaper, wipe me and powder me generously once again, and get a new diaper all ready for me. This time, Jill baby talked me even further than she had the last time.

“Here we go! Another nice dydee for you! Oh yess. So thick and comfy on your widdle bottom! First we lift your legs, then we slide the dydee underneath you, and then we lower you back down. And finally, here it comes! We tape up your cute dydee allllll nice and snug! Awwww there you are!” she said as she gently tickled my stomach with her hand.

“Jill…thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome. Now, would you like me to cradle you a bit?”

I nodded my head, and Jill popped the pacifier back into my mouth as she sat up on the bed and kindly asked me to lay down across her lap with my legs partially lifted. I did as she asked, and she then placed one hand under my diapered butt and the other beneath my back and slowly started to rock me again, making sure to look down at me as if I were nothing but a helpless infant.

“My cute baby…yesss it’s cradle time! Back and forth we go…” she hummed as she continued.

We sat like that for almost a half hour, Jill and I. This woman was a Godsend, without a doubt. I knew that there’d never be anybody else to replace her in my life, and at that moment, after everything we’d been through and all of the years that we’d gotten to know each other, I then wished to be with her.

Jill finished cradling me and asked, “Was that fun?” with a smile on her face. I nodded vigorously and thanked her at least forty times as I hugged her tightly. She returned the hug, only this time she moved in to kiss me, her lips just landing on the edge of mine. One kiss led to another, and we were soon both lying on my bed, kissing each other more and more passionately. Jill removed her pants, shirt, and bra, and I switched back over from a diaper to boxers (hey, that’d be a bit odd if you ask me!).

Our make out session lasted for about two hours, and oddly enough, neither of us had sex on the brain; it just wasn’t what we wanted that night. I went to sleep that night with my arms around Jill, dreading the thought of her leaving the following morning. She told me she’d come back another weekend, or that I’d be able to come see her sometime, but I’d soon find out that people change…drastically.

Chapter Six

The morning came rather quickly on that Sunday. Jill had her things packed in almost no time, and we grabbed a quick bite to eat for breakfast. Both of us had homework to do since we’d spent most of the weekend with each other (not that either of us minded).

Once breakfast was eaten, I walked Jill back to her car with a slight feeling of separation anxiety in my chest. Visions of her using her maternal instincts on me strengthened my bond with her, and I knew we wouldn’t be able to see each other for a few more weeks.

“It’ll go by faster than you think!” she said as I put her bags in her trunk.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye!”

“Wait, Jill. I—thank you. Not just for last night, but for this whole weekend. I hope you had as much of a good time as I did.”

“Yeah.”

That one word and the way it was said should’ve been my first clue that something was up, but no. I brushed it off and hugged my friend. Her door closed, and then she was on her way back, away from me. I smiled as I kept thinking about the time we had. From golfing to me being babied, the weekend went by flawlessly, and I felt like a new man. I’d never felt that way about anyone, and Jill allowed me to put so much trust in her! Such a dark secret I had and such a rare thing for someone like me to find a woman like her! But, all good things must come to an end, and I had to learn it the hard way…

A couple of weeks had passed. Classes went fine, and the friendship between me and my suitemates grew tremendously. Dan and Chris (my other suitemate) definitely liked a lot of the same things as I did, and we talked about pretty much anything (with the exception of you know what). I knew I’d consider them my brothers within just a few more months!

Jill, on the other hand, messaged me less and less with the passage of time. Our conversations would end abruptly with a “I g2g...bye!” and then she’d vanish. No emails, no calls. I told myself that she was busy and that she’d be coming up the following week. She didn’t. Instead, she sent me a text message with some excuse in which I can’t even remember. I was crushed! I’d had my share of people stand me up before, but this time it hurt worse than ever before. I hadn’t even asked her to come and baby me that weekend because I really just wanted to spend some more time with her. Sure, being babied would have been lovely, but at the same time, I didn’t feel that I needed it then.

I called Jill on the Sunday of that weekend to ask her if she wanted me to come up to visit her one weekend, but I got her voicemail.

What’s the sense in leaving a message? Something’s wrong…but what could it be? Does she hate me? Is she freaked out? I have to know!

Unanswered questions ran through my brain for the following three days, and they got in the way of my normal daily routine. I couldn’t focus in class, I wasn’t very hungry, and I kept telling myself that it was my fault. Then that Wednesday night, she appeared on the messenger program.

 

Me: Jill! Where’ve you been?

 

Jill: Around.

 

Me: I’m sorry you couldn’t make it out this past weekend, but I was wondering if you wanted me to come up sometime. I’d love to visit!

 

Jill: Doesn’t matter to me.

 

Something was terribly wrong! This wasn’t Jill!

 

Me: You okay? You’ve been acting kind of strange lately…

 

Jill: Meh. What’s it to you?

 

Me: Are you serious right now? I’m your friend and I care about you!

 

There was no answer for a few minutes. That’s when I knew what would happen, but like a moth that’s attracted to the flame, I went further in.

 

Me: Did I say or do something wrong a couple of weeks ago? I mean, it seems that ever since you left here you’ve stopped talking to me, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself when we hung out.

 

Jill: Oh, John…how do I put this…

 

Was she gay? Did I creep her out? The box was about to be opened!

 

Jill: I just…look. You’re a really great guy.

 

Oh no…

 

Jill: And I did have a great time with you and all, but…

 

No…no! No! This can’t be it! God! She was supposed to be the one! She knows everything!

 

Jill: I just don’t see myself settling down with you.

 

Me: So you stopped talking to me for a few weeks because of it? There must be something else going on, Jill. I’m not stupid, you know.

 

There was a brief period of silence, which only made my level of suspicion higher. I imagine Jill sensed that I was angry even though I was hiding behind a computer monitor. Then, the shocker.

 

Jill: I found out that I’m pregnant.

 

Me: You’re fucking kidding me.

 

Jill: No. I’m not. This guy I met at a party during the first week of college…we had a fling. At first I was torn between you and him, but…he wants to raise the child with me, and he’s a great guy.

 

A nightmare. That’s what this was. A living nightmare. The woman I fell for had just chosen not to catch me, and I hit the ground. Hard.

 

Me: I see…so you just took me for a test drive?

 

Jill: No! Nooo. I mean, I didn’t know if I was in love with you or with Nick at the time. I was confused.

 

She’d slept with another man. She’d found love somewhere else. Her life was ruined, and mine was soon to follow.

 

Me: So this is it? We’re “just friends” now? There’s no hope? No chance for us?

 

Jill: I don’t want you to bear the burden of having to raise my child with me, John. You’re a great guy and you’ve got so much going for you.

 

Me: And once again, I’m left for dead…

 

Jill: Oh come on! Don’t talk like that!

 

Me: No, Jill! I will talk like that! I told you everything! EVERYTHING there is to know about me, and you accepted me for who I am! For God’s sake, you gave me the experience of a lifetime, and this is what happens. You go and sleep with some dude and get knocked up!

 

Jill: …

 

Me: I love you, Jill! You had the opportunity to go out with me and you let it slip through your fingers! Now you’re going out with some guy because he got you pregnant. You can’t be going out with him because you love him, Jill. If you loved him you’d have talked to me about him long ago and you wouldn’t have even thought about going out with me!

 

Then, the bombshell.

 

Jill: Ohhh yeah. Like I’d want to go out with someone who doesn’t want to be a man all of the time.

 

Through the heart her words went. Like daggers they cut deep into me, and I gasped in horror. I grabbed my phone and called Jill, my brain under an irreversible state of shock, rage, and sadness. Her phone rang only twice before she picked up.

“John, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mea-”

“I can’t believe you!” I screamed as I felt tears welling up in my eyes. “You would use my secret against me?! Is that what I am to you?! A half of a man?!”

“I-I was mad and—”

“You have made a fool of me, Jill, and you have broken my heart!”

“John,” I could hear her voice crack, “I’m so sorry…I’m sorry! Please forgive me!”

“I will forgive you when I feel that you actually mean that you’re sorry! Until then, don’t talk to me! Don’t call, don’t message me, and don’t even think of me for at least a month!”

I shut my phone and threw it on the floor as I sobbed. I’d been betrayed a few times before, but never by somebody so close to me. And to make things worse, she’d delivered a low blow with enough force to bring me to my knees. I couldn’t stand for the half hour following our ugly conversation.

The next few days my head kept replaying Jill’s last few words. “Please forgive me!” Forgive her? How could I forgive her when I could no longer forgive myself for sharing with her what I was? My perception of Jill was altered in an instant. As for my perception of myself? Let’s just say that I plummeted to many nights of drinking, sobbing, and shuddering at the thoughts of my old best friend. There was no magic, no surgery, and no cure to piece my heart and soul back together. I would continue to beat myself up over this matter well into the end of my first semester at college, and only after months of tormenting myself would I regain my self-confidence.

[Eagle0769]

Wow that was two of the best writing and compelling chapters I have ever read. My heart is broken I feel for John and understand what he is feeling. Sometimes we all get our hearts broken maybe not like this but we all go through it. 

I'm hope things will get better and our dreams will come true. 

[aldl4811]

This is seriously good work 

[Dr_J]

Thank you again for the replies, everyone. I appreciate it. Anyway, here are the next three chapters.

 

Chapter Seven

Jill never called after the first month passed. Nor did she when the first semester went by. I didn’t try to call her, either. Instead, I moved along my first semester with a sense of uncertainty about everyone around me. Sure, I had friends and colleagues with whom I talked to on a regular basis, but I made sure to never let any of them get too close. No matter how nice the person was or how beautiful and kind the woman was, I’d only let them know so much about me before they reached the impassable moat I’d built around myself.

Drinking also became a bi-weekly routine. Every other weekend I’d drink myself stupid with a bunch of the people living in my building. Other times it’d be with people I hardly knew. The problem with alcohol is that is happens to be somewhat of a truth serum, and while I hate to admit it, that’s exactly what helped me to open myself back up to people.

You see, there was a night during the last couple of weeks of my second semester when my roommates and I decided to throw a huge end of the school year/just drink like a lush party. There were many familiar and unfamiliar faces that showed up that night, but I didn’t care because I’d had a few shots of Jagermeister to loosen up before everyone came. I was buzzed to say the least, but I was told by many that I was “a happy drunk”, so the people I conversed with smiled a lot when I attempted to engage in a conversation with them.

Well, after a few hours and four beers later, I managed to bump into one of the women from my English class, so I gently walked—er, stumbled over to her to say hello. She was sitting alone inside of my living room with a beer in her hand.

What…is her name? Trisha! Yeah! I think…

“Hey there, Trisha!” I said to the redhead loudly.

“Oh, hello John.” she softly spoke.

Now Trisha was one of those people who made me wonder if she liked me or not because of the way she looked at me. I could never tell if she was either angry with me or she just came off that way, but you can never be too certain with some people.

“Why are you sitting in here by yourself? Most of the party’s going on outside!”

“I don’t know. I’m really in the mood to talk for a bit! Would you like to talk, John, or are you too drunk?”

“Well, I’m not that drunk…but I don’t want you to pull any of your psychology stuff on me if we talk!”

“Oh, come now! It’s the end of the year! I wouldn’t dare, especially when you’re under the influence!”

“Well, good! So, what should we talk about?”

We delved into different areas of discussion from there. Trisha seemed to be more interested in what I had to say than usual, but I think it was from the drinking she’d done that night. Still, I pushed it aside and enjoyed our conversation for a couple of hours.

“Oh, John! You’ve got to be one of the funniest people I know! You’re almost never like this when you’re sober!”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean you’re usually so distant from everybody!”

“Wow…is it really that obvious?”

“Yeah, actually. I mean, you’re nice all of the time, but still, I notice you don’t let anyone get too close.”

“I think that alcohol has given you some kind of psychic power, Trisha!” I laughed.

Trisha chuckled as she twirled her fingers around her long hair. The smell of her perfume lightly danced around my nose while the look in her eyes beckoned me to tell her what happened. I decided to play the partial truth game with her just to cover my tracks.

“Nah, but you’re kind of right. I’ve had a bit of a trust issue with people since last semester.”

“Ohh. What happened?”

“Just…someone I thought I knew turned out to be a completely different person.”

“And?”

Damn it…careful what you say, John!

“She used my secret against me.” I blurted out.

Damn the alcohol!

“Secret, eh? You’re the last person I’d expect to have a secret!”

“Please. Everybody has a secret. Mine just happens to be very personal, and I plan on taking it to the grave with me.”

Why do I keep talking?! Shut up John!

“John, I’m officially intrigued! It sounds pretty deep!”

“Well, let’s get one thing straight: I’m not gay, and I didn’t kill anybody.” I joked. “Everyone always thinks that one of those two things is the secret.”

“Ha! You definitely don’t seem like the type to like other men or kill people!”

“Ohh yes,” I put on a fake lisp, “I love men and killing people!”

We both burst out in laughter for a good half of a minute and almost spilled our beers while doing so.

“Well, I’m not going to ask you what your secret is, John.”

“And I’m probably never going to tell you what it is. The last person I told decided she thought it’d be a good idea to use it in a personal attack, and I haven’t spoken to her ever since.”

“Aw, that’s horrible!”

“I know.”

“Well, whatever it is, I still think you’re an admirable person, and should you ever find it in you to tell me about it, I won’t think any less of you.”

“Thanks, Trisha. However, I beg to differ. You see, it’s a rather touchy subject. There was one point in which I almost told my parents, but then I found out the hard way that they were completely against it. I mean, imagine having your own parents show so much disgust and arrogance towards people like me. They don’t know that I fit into that group of people, but still. It scares me to even think how others would react.”

“But you shouldn’t let it fester, John. I understand that you now have a trust issue with everybody, but I mean, have you ever thought about telling a therapist or counselor?”

“Please, they’d send me to the nuthouse as soon as they found out. ‘What did you come here for, John?’ ‘Oh, well you see, I like to be babied sometimes’—oh God…I didn’t just…”

“Wait…what?”

The alcohol became my worst enemy in that instant. I know that it was good for me to let out what was bothering me for so long, but I didn’t want it to have to be that way, especially in front of Trisha or anyone else on campus. The risks were too much for me to take.

“It’s nothing, Trisha.” I felt myself sober up rather quickly as I looked away.

“John, don’t feel bad.”

“But why shouldn’t I? I mean, here I am, 19 years old, and I want to be the exact opposite of what I should be!” I argued as I choked up. “You weren’t there! You don’t know how hard it was for me to live with this for so long, Trisha! For years I kept it in and let it eat away at me, calling myself a freak! And then I have the courage to tell the only person I loved, and what does she do? She turns her back on me and ridicules me! That only adds to the feeling of regret!”

“Look at me, John.”

“What kind of man am I?! I would give anything to know why I was born with this! Was it so I could be deemed a freak by society if they found out? Was it so I could go crazy wondering why I’m attracted to such an infantile thing?!”

“John,” Trisha grabbed my hand, “calm down, buddy! It’s okay!”

“People always look at me like I’ve got it made and like everything’s fine, but they can’t see what I go through because they will never understand. They think I’m perfect, but I have this as my flaw…”

My fear got the best of me, yet my intoxicated state of mind let my tongue and brain out of their cages. I could hardly look Trisha in the eyes.

“Listen to me,” Trisha wiped some of my tears away, “it’s okay. Everyone has something about them that they can’t explain. That isn’t a flaw, John. That’s something about you that makes you happy, though I can see you’re rather personal about it, and there isn’t anything wrong with that! But don’t think I’m going to make fun of you for it. I am a psychology major, so I have heard of this kind of thing before. And do you know what? Whether you meant to tell me your secret or not, I think that you’re a very admirable man for admitting your ‘oddity.’ You have nothing to be ashamed of, and your secret is safe with me!”

“Trisha…” was all I managed to say as I hugged her tightly.

The “thank you” that I wanted to get out was silent, but I’m sure she knew I was grateful. She gave me a new sense of appreciation for myself and my desire. While Trisha understood, I had a feeling that she wouldn’t be the right person to try to go out with, or to ask to partake in my babying, but that was fine at the time. She soon became close friend, and she would support me through even the toughest times. Things aren’t always as they seem, though, but this time they’d take a turn for the better.

Chapter Eight

The confession to Trisha actually helped me to realize that maybe my quirk wasn’t such a bad thing. I mean, sure it wasn’t something that I’d go out and publicly announce, but it would be something that I could accept instead of loathe and try to push aside. Even better was the fact that Trisha lived about twenty minutes away from my house, which meant that over the summer break we’d be able to hang out. Our friendship grew with every conversation we had until we talked to each other about everything. I had even helped her with her psychology project, which she mysteriously chose to do on infantilism…didn’t see that one coming…not.

She asked me all sorts of questions regarding what kind of things triggered my desires, how I coped with them, how I felt about the whole thing, stuff like that. All of this was done under complete confidentiality, and since none of her colleagues knew me too well, I was never approached or suspected of being her subject (not to my knowledge, anyway).

May crept up on me like a shadow in the night, and before I knew it, my first year of college was officially done. Everything was a blur, though, with the exception of one thing: Jill. I couldn’t stop thinking about her for some reason. Part of me actually worried about how she was doing and what the outcome of her pregnancy was. I kept her screen name on my messenger program, and occasionally she’d pop up for a few minutes, but neither she nor myself bothered to send a message. This only increased my curiosity.

I searched my city for jobs the first week I returned from college in an attempt to keep myself busy and have a steady source of income. That, and my parents had been nagging me about finding a summer job because they wanted me to start helping with some of the bills. That’s when I landed a temporary job at the local retail store, Bullseye.

Selling merchandise and dealing with customers all summer didn’t sound too appealing to me, so I got a position in the backroom of the store, meaning I’d be doing all of the behind the scenes work. I only asked for 20-30 hours a week because I really didn’t care about making a lot of money at the time, and I wanted to enjoy my three and a half months off from classes. A couple hundred bucks a week was all I needed to live comfortably that summer. However, God had a good sense of humor that year. You see, since I wasn’t the only person working in the back, they had to split up which sections that we covered, and take a wild guess what I got for the entire freaking summer. Yeah…the baby section.

I was taunted every time I worked as I pulled out various kinds of diapers, bottles, and other baby items. God knew what He was doing, and He thought it was funny. I smiled, too, but I also yearned to have another experience like I did with Jill, which made me upset since I knew that my luck with her was one of a kind. Who would’ve guessed that she and I would cross paths once again on yet another fateful day?

Three weeks after I’d settled back into my parents’ house, I drove down to the lake to skip stones. It was something I did while I sorted out the many things on my mind. With each stone I placed a thought, and by throwing them, it signified that I was done thinking about that particular thing.

After about twelve stones, Jill’s stone came up. It was perfectly flat, but its edges were jagged, and its orange/red color made it stick out among the other ones that I’d thrown. I held it firmly between my index finger and thumb and got ready to throw it. Just as I was about to release the stone, however, my phone began to vibrate in my left pocket.

Must be Trisha.

I smiled as I pulled my phone out and checked to see who it was…it was Jill. My heart pounded and my insides burned as I felt the phone shake. I was torn between picking up the phone and ignoring the call. I wished to repair our broken bridge, but I also couldn’t shake off what was said between us. What she said about me. How foolish and mean she was. That time we had. That weekend that was everything but ordinary. I held my breath, opened the phone, and put it to my ear.

“Hello?” I said in a shaky tone.

“John…please…don’t hang up.” Jill sobbed, her voice sounding raspy as if she’d been screaming for hours.

“Jill? What-what’s wrong?”

“I can’t take it anymore! Please don’t leave me like he did! Please don’t hate me anymore! I’m so sorry for everything!”

Everything bad I’d thought about regarding Jill was pushed aside in mere milliseconds, as her voice jabbed at my heart and broke little pieces of it with each cry.

“Jesus, are you crying? I won’t hang up. What’s the matter?”

“I can’t…I can’t tell you on the phone. Please. Can we talk in person? I’ll give you gas money and-”

I don’t remember how she finished the sentence, but it ended with a cry as well. My brain told me not to waste my time, but my heart told me this wasn’t a ploy or a ‘I was wrong and I’m crawling back to you’ scenario. The sound of her voice told me this was something much more serious.

“Tell me where to meet you, Jill.”

She told me she was living in a town between my college and hers; quite the drive for me, but I had the next couple of days off, and I’d have felt terrible if I ignored her cries. After I got her address, I told her I’d be there as fast as I could and was soon in my car and gunning it down the interstate.

My car’s clock read 9:00pm when I reached the street that Jill lived on. I immediately noticed her red car in a driveway a few yards down and pulled in behind it. The air was colder than a normal May evening as I exited my car and headed up the steps of the little brick half-house. A welcome mat lay perfectly on the porch and a set of wind chimes twirled about slowly as I made a few light knocks on the heavy wooden door. Within seconds it opened, and there stood Jill, her eyes filled with tears and her complexion trembling uncontrollably.

“John?!” she cried as she fell into my arms and sobbed.

She was a living train wreck! There was a faint smell of liquor coming from her house, and when I looked in I could see some empty bottles lying on the floor. This wasn’t the Jill I knew.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

I didn’t think I would, either.

“You sounded awful on the phone. I couldn’t just leave you hanging!”

“But what about what I said to-”

“Forget it. We’ll talk about it later. Now, what on Earth is going on with you?”

Jill led me into her living room as she pulled some tissues out of her pocket and wiped her face. Tears still rolled down her face, and I could see the sadness in her eyes. That’s when I noticed something: there was no baby stuff in the living room. No crib, no diapers, no baby bottles, no scent of babyish things, and no baby crying. And where was her boyfriend? I almost made a comment about how quiet the house was, but I didn’t want to upset Jill even further.

“So…what’s going on?” I asked.

“Well...nothing good.” Jill frowned.

“Come on. You can’t mean that!”

“John, you don’t understand. I was going to call you last month, but I wasn’t sure if you were going to pick up. I-I had-I had a miscarriage.”

Have you ever seen a show where when someone drops the bomb you can hear either a record scratch or glass breaking? Yeah, it was kind of like that, except it sounded and felt more like a gunshot to me. All of my assumptions about how Jill was doing were completely wrong, and immediately I felt guilty for not calling her.

“Oh, my God,” I said as Jill started to cry once again, “I’m so sorry!”

Jill leaned into my shoulder and placed her head on it as I instinctively hugged her and cursed myself for not learning how to forgive sooner. I couldn’t imagine the pain she felt. All of that excitement and nervousness about having a baby, the baby shower, the baby things bought in preparation for the new arrival, all for nothing. It was the ultimate low blow given by God. Her crying lasted for another minute or so, but she soon lifted her head from my shoulder and looked back at me.

“When did you find out?”

“About a month ago. I told Nick about it, and he seemed upset about it at first…then he started drinking. A lot. He started blaming me for the baby’s death, even though I didn’t do anything wrong! I didn’t smoke or drink, or do anything that might harm him!”

“He blamed you?!” I was pissed.

Blaming somebody for something beyond their control is ridiculous, but blaming someone for having a miscarriage is probably one of the worst things a person can do. I’d never even met this Nick character before and already I wanted to let his jaw catch my fist.

“Yeah.” Jill looked down at the floor. “He told me it was my fault. But then he started distancing himself from me. He’d come home drunk and tell me how he was kind of glad that I had the miscarriage because-I’m sorry…” Jill paused as she shook. “…because he didn’t have to commit to our relationship anymore. He said that without the baby around, he didn’t have to pay any child support or anything…and he left. He left me here, alone…”

It had been a long, long while since I’d been extremely angry with somebody, but that day, I broke the streak. I bit my lip in spite of showing Jill how upset I was.

“Jeez, Jill. Well, I’ll stay here as long as I can, which is actually until Tuesday since I have to get ready to go back to school.” I said with a light laugh to try and lighten the mood.

Jill gave me a light smile, and then thanked me with another hug, only this was one was much bigger than the last. I returned the hug, but felt inclined to make sure that I still kept a bit of a distance between me and Jill, not because I was angry with her, but because I wanted to make sure that I didn’t fall for her again (at least, not for a while, just in case she had some other beau that I didn’t know about). The night had been a crazy one, kind of like an odd dream where you’re unable to tell if it’s fantasy or reality. I was glad to have been there for my old friend, and I was also glad that I was given the opportunity to repair our relationship. Once again, things would only get better from here…

Chapter Nine

For the next two days I would be staying with Jill. We didn’t talk about where I’d be sleeping or any of that, but I still told myself that I’d be sleeping on her couch. The waters had yet to be cleared, and I didn’t think that we’d be able to pick up right where we left off since it had been so long.

Once Jill was comforted, I asked her three times if she was okay (you know, the “you okay?” the “are you sure?” and the “are you positive?”) and once I believed that she was, we talked to each other about how our first year of college was. Jill, regardless of her being pregnant, continued to go to college. She’d told me that her plan was to finish her first year, then have the baby and take a year off, and then finish up her education. I asked her how she wound up in the half-house, to which she told me that Nick helped her find it when he was still a gentleman (which in my opinion, the bastard couldn’t have been one at all, especially after the way he treated Jill). She also told me that on top of going to college full time, she also had to work full time to help pay the rent.

“Good God! How did you manage? I can barely work full time when I’m on vacation!” I chuckled.

“I don’t know. I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. I was so afraid of failing and not being able to get through this that I had to take my mind off of it. So, on top of college, I figured a job would keep me busy.”

“I see.”

A silence filled the air for a brief moment. I thought about how much of an idiot I was for not being there for Jill sooner. All that time I kept throwing a pity party for myself for what she’d said to me, and she had it ten times worse than I did. I’m not saying that I shouldn’t have felt bad, but I am saying that I should’ve learned to let go of my past sooner. Then maybe some of this wouldn’t have happened, or if it did still happen, I could’ve rescued my old friend sooner.

“John?” Jill asked as she looked over at me, our bodies sitting side by side on her plush white couch.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

There it was. The look in her eyes was sincere, and it melted away my feeling of self-loathing as I remembered once again what she’d said to me when we went our separate ways. I could feel something climbing up my throat.

“Did you hear me?”

I nodded my head and looked down at the floor.

“I was very stupid at the time, and I shouldn’t have said the things that I did.”

“I shouldn’t have said some of the things I did, either.” I said in regret.

“Oh, no, John! We were both mad.”

“It was more than that, Jill.” I swallowed hard. “You-I-you were the only person I ever told about my secret, and you didn’t care. You even went so far as to indulge me! Never before had anyone made me feel so good about myself, and then you made me feel like such a freak!”

Months of leaving my sadness to age in my heart finally got the best of me, and I sobbed as I continued to talk.

“I loved you so much! You were there for me all of the time, and then all of that stuff happened, and then I couldn’t find it in myself to talk to you! And I couldn’t be there for you when you needed because I wasn’t man enough to forgive you sooner! Now look! Only after you’ve lost so much can I be here, and now I’m babbling on like a fool!”

“Aw, John!” was all she could say as she pulled my head onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Jill! I’m sorry I couldn’t have made amends sooner!”

We exchanged apologies for another brief period of time as we held onto each other and comforted one another. The weight on my chest was lifted as I allowed months of torment to escape through my eyes and mouth. It was a very emotional couple of hours that night, but in all honesty, it felt pretty good. It was as if I had shed my skin, evolved…reformed, if you will. I half-expected to see credits roll up Jill’s wall after that, but apparently much more was in store for me, and it wasn’t a bad thing.

After we poured our thoughts and feelings all over the living room, Jill cooked up some little pizza bagels for us to munch on before we went to sleep. It was late, I was tired, and I just wanted the day to come to a close. We ate the bagels slowly at her kitchen table. Neither of us spoke, but we just kind of passed smiles to each other. Jill gave me the same smile she had when she first met me at my college, and while my mind told me that I was falling for her again, my heart warned me that it would hurt if I was left to fall again.

Once we finished eating, Jill went up to her room and quickly returned with some bedding for the couch. I was glad that she hadn’t asked me to sleep with her at that time, because I’d have felt a little awkward if I had to tell her that I wasn’t interested. I set up my sleeping spot quickly, and moments later I was ready to call it a night. I didn’t have any night clothes or any other clothes for that matter, with the exception of what I was wearing. I decided to wait for Jill to go to sleep before I removed my shirt and shorts.

“Well, it’s been one hell of a day.” I said with a sigh of relief.

“You’re telling me!”

“Makes me wonder if I’m going to wake up in my own bed. Everything’s such a blur.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

“Well, I think I’m ready to get some sleep, so I will see you in the morning, Jill.” I smiled.

“Sounds good.” she said.

I was just about to turn off the lamp next to the couch when Jill spoke once more.

“Oh, John?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you.”

Jill came closer and we found ourselves hugging each other once again. Everything my heart told me was drowned out by her warm embrace. Just as we went to pull away from each other, Jill reached forward and kissed me lightly on the side of my face, then pulled back and smiled.

I stared into her emerald eyes, my mind full of static. Part of me wanted to kiss her back, but another part of me still wondered if the whole thing was just a mind game.

“Jill, I-” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.

“Don’t know what to say?”

“It’s just that I don’t think I’d be able to take another heartbreak if things went wrong again.”

“I know I messed up, John. Really, really messed up. But if you’re willing to let me, I’d like to work this out and try to help you fix your heart.”

I always was a sucker for sweet words, and though I knew there was that risk of being thrown under a bus for a second time, I wanted to try again. If Jill wasn’t the one for me, then why was I given this opportunity to make amends with her, and why did she kiss me?

“Well, what do you say?” she asked with a hint of hope and eagerness in her voice.

Instead of giving her a reply, I simply kissed her on the side of her face, just as she had done with me. Her smooth skin felt just as good on my lips as it had the many months before. I could smell a faint scent of that same perfume she’d worn the last time. My brain would be filled with questions of my decision for the rest of the night, but I kept telling myself that things would work this time around, even if it took a while.

“I take that as a yes?” Jill giggled.

“Yes.”

Jill had a brief look of lust in her eyes, but I think she knew better, plus, I was overtired. We slept in separate places that night, her on her bed, and I on her couch, but something told me that the following night we’d be sharing a sleeping space again.

 

* * *

The following morning, I was awakened by the sound of rain hitting the living room window. I groggily stretched out on the couch and yawned. The night before slowly played through my head, but it was all fuzzy, as if it were some kind of dream sequence. It took me a couple of minutes to remember where I was, but then I heard a female humming and smelled bacon; I was at Jill’s.

Once I felt I was coherent enough to interact with other people, I drudged my way into Jill’s kitchen. The white linoleum floor complemented the bright wood finish of the counter and cabinets. To the right was a stove, which was currently being complemented by Jill. She continued to hum as the smell of breakfast overpowered my nose.

“Good morning.” I mumbled as I yawned once again.

“Good morning.” Jill replied. “Are you hungry?”

“Sure!”

I looked over at the microwave to check the time. Ten o’clock in the morning. I’d slept in later than usual, but then again, the previous day had taken a lot out of me.

“How’d you sleep?” Jill asked.

“Like a-” I stopped myself short. “-a log. You?”

“I slept fairly well, too! Actually, it was probably the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a couple of months!”

“Good to hear.” I smiled.

We chatted about different things while she finished preparing our food. I told her that I’d need to go out later to get some clothes since I didn’t have anything clean to wear over the next couple of days. It was then decided that we’d go out after breakfast to pick up some clothes.

Scrambled eggs, bacon, and some toast with butter. The cliché breakfast that never seemed to get old (hey, it’s way better than college food!). We ate quietly that morning, but occasionally exchanged smiles. By half past ten we were finished eating, and Jill offered to take my plate and utensils. I was stubborn and followed her into the kitchen with my dishes in hand.

“You’re such a dork.” she chuckled.

“Yeah, I know. But hey! People like me, so I must be doing something right.”

“You haven’t changed a bit!”

“Neither have you!”

More laughter ensued as we got ready for our trip into town. I was in and out of the shower in no more than ten minutes. As for Jill? Well, you know how long it can take some people. We were up and out the door at about noon, if that tells you anything.

Jill showed me around the town, including where she worked and where her favorite restaurant was. I tried to deny my feelings that morning, but I soon came to accept that even though we’d only just been hanging out with each other for not even a day, I felt that closeness again. That friendship was coming back and filling in the gap we had, and I liked it.

This is what I want. Please don’t take her away from me again. I prayed as we headed to the nearest clothing store.

The trip lasted a brief twenty minutes; not something I expected since Jill kept on eyeing some of the shirts while we shopped. I picked up a button down shirt, some khaki shorts, and a pack of boxers. We would’ve been out of the store sooner, but not only were each type of clothing scattered throughout the store, but we had this old lady in front of us who decided that she wanted to pay the cashier in nothing but coins. Yeah, you can only imagine how frustrating that was! I had whispered to Jill that I wanted to pay for the lady’s clothing so she’d get out of our way, but Jill just nudged me and snickered.

As I went to make my purchase, I noticed Jill focusing on the corner of the store. I paid no attention to it at first, but once I received my receipt and bag, I stood behind her and tried to see what she was seeing. That’s when I realized that she was staring at the baby clothing section of the store. There was an end cap with a picture of a woman holding her baby up in the air, both smiling without a care in the world. I didn’t want to stir up any negative feelings, so I simply asked, “Are you ready, Jill?”

“Hm? Oh…yeah! I’m sorry, I was just thinking.” she replied with a sigh.

I could see it in her eyes that it made her sad to see what she would’ve had, and that’s when it made me think: I was an infantilist. I liked to assume the role of an infant, and I wanted to be with Jill. But Jill lost her child in a miscarriage, so would that mean that she’d want nothing to do with that side of me anymore? Would it bring back the painful memories of when she found out she lost her baby? Would it be too much for her? Even worse, would I be able to let that part of my life go if that’s what it took to be with Jill? The thoughts lingered for the rest of the day, but I didn’t allow them to rain on my parade.

It was a pretty uneventful day after the clothing store. We grabbed a bite to eat, held some more conversations, and went on a stroll down the sidewalks of the town, all in the course of five hours. Before we knew it, dinnertime was near.

“Ugh, I really don’t feel like cooking tonight. Do you want to go to a restaurant?” Jill asked excitedly.

“You’re like a kid on Christmas morning, dork!” I joked. “But sure!”

“Awesome. There’s this amazing bar and grill I go to every other week for the food. And no, I didn’t ever drink during my pregnancy!”

“I wouldn’t think of you being the type to do something so dangerous, anyway! Well, let’s get going!”

Her comment threw me off for a bit, but then I figured that her ex had probably accused her of doing that, too. I shrugged it off and we made the five minute drive out to the restaurant while Jill ranted and raved about how good their hamburgers were.

The inside of the bar was very well-lit, which made me more comfortable about eating there, some classic rock music played quietly beneath the different conversations going on and the bottle caps being popped off of the drinks at the barstool. Everything seemed alright, which is what I wanted. There’s just something about bars that make me uncomfortable. I guess it’s because you really can never know when some drunken idiot might lose it and start a fight.

Jill said hello to the hostess and we were soon seated at one of the booths. Within moments a waitress came over to us and took our order. I picked a Swiss mushroom melt burger and a cherry cola, and Jill ordered a root beer and the “Bacon Blitz” burger, whatever that was.

“So, what’s on your mind, John?” Jill asked.

I never understood why people asked that question, mostly because I hated answering it. It’s one thing if people are brainstorming and someone says, “what are you thinking?”, but this was an instance where the person asking me the question really wanted to pick at my brain.

“Where did that come from?” I chuckled.

“I don’t know. It seems like you’ve been thinking a lot today.”

“That obvious, eh?”

“Haha! Yeah, kind of.”

“Hmmm…”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

“It’s not that. It’s just that I’m wondering if it’s too soon.”

“Ahh, I hate when that happens.”

“Me too...”

“Well, we can talk about something else if you’d like.”

I so badly wanted to tell her how I didn’t want to lose her again, and how I’d try my best to give up my babyish desires if it became too hard for her to participate, but part of me thought that it was too soon. Not only too soon between Jill and me, but also too soon to bring up my infantilist side to her again since it’d only been a little while since she had her miscarriage.

“Sure, why not?”

Our order was brought to us just as we were about to talk some more.

“Perfect timing.” I joked as I picked up my hamburger.

“You’re such a nerd!”

“Guilty as charged!”

We held up our burgers and started eating, and I must say that I was more than pleased with mine. It was cooked to perfection! Jill bit into her sandwich and for some reason almost choked on it. Then a look of terror filled her eyes, like she’d seen a ghost.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s Nick.”

[Dr_J]

Chapters 10 and 11, just for you!

Chapter Ten

I turned around to see what or who she was so afraid of, and that’s when I saw him. He was a walking prep model with his collar popped and his hair perfectly gelled straight. He looked to be about my height, but had just a bit more of a build than I did. This was the one who destroyed my friend’s will. This was my enemy. By the way he stumbled about, I figured he was drunk.

“Well, look who’s here! Didn’t think you’d ever come back here, Jill! After all, this is where we went on the night you got pregnant…stupid bitch.” he mumbled.

“Leave me alone.” Jill whispered as she looked the other way.

“Hey everyone! This is the girl who killed my child!”

Jill got up and started walking out of the bar when Nick went to follow her. I immediately stood up and blocked his path.

“That’s enough!” I said firmly as I stood my ground. “Think you’re so tough belittling a woman and blaming her for something that’s beyond her control?”

Jill stopped right before she went out the door and turned around. From the corner of my eye I could see that she was about to cry, and this only made me more upset.

“Oh, and who’s this?! Your new boyfriend, Jill? Why don’t you fuck off, man?”

“You drunk bastard! One more word of her…just one more.”

“Psh,” Nick slurred, “and what will you do? You got nothing on me! Hey, Jill! Too scared to come over here and face me yourself? Need a bodyguard, eh?”

Before I had the chance to say anything, Jill ran back towards us and landed a hard slap across Nick’s face. His whole head shifted to the left, and for a moment he was stunned.

“You stupid bitch!” he slapped her back before I had a chance to react.

The patrons all gasped and whispered to each other as Jill held the side of her face and let a tear shed. I tried as hard as I could to not lose it, but if there’s one thing I hate, it’s a guy hitting or verbally abusing a woman. I don’t care who it is or if I can’t stand the woman. Once I see an act of violence against her, I snap. And so it was that night.

I grabbed Nick’s arm and placed it behind his back. His drunken state allowed me to get a hold of his other hand, and he was soon restrained. He struggled to break free, but I placed my foot in front of his leg and pushed him forward. He fell, hard, and grunted as he did so.

“Piece of shit!” I turned him onto his back and grabbed him by his collar.

“Fuck you!”

“John!” Jill screamed.

“You have ten seconds to leave the bar, and if you so much as look at Jill, I’ll make sure you don’t leave the parking lot without a black eye!”

I pulled Nick up to his feet and once again restrained him, only this time I applied more pressure to keep him from moving around. We made our way towards the door as the bar fell silent. I turned around briefly to make sure that Jill was okay. She looked a bit shaken up, but other than that she seemed okay.

“Let go of me you-”

“Shut up!”

I opened the door and shoved Nick onto the pavement outside. He struggled to get on his feet while he swore.

“C’mon and fight me like a man!” he slurred his speech.

“You call yourself a man? Get outta here before I knock you flat!”

I waited in the doorway until I saw him wander off onto the sidewalk, then closed the door, sighed, and turned around to see where Jill was. Everyone stared at me, most in amazement, others in shock.

“I’m sorry,” I told the bartender, “I’ll leave if you want. I shouldn’t have made a scene here. He was harassing my friend here and-”

“Nah, nah, kid! You didn’t cause any trouble! You got rid of it! Someone get this man a beer!”

There was a short round of applause in the bar, and I not being used to being made a “hero” for brawling in a bar blushed and headed back to my table where Jill sat and looked at me with folded arms and a smirk that was just short of a smile. She probably didn’t know how to react. I mean, one minute she was belittled and slapped, and then next I threw the bastard out of the bar.

“You alright, Jill?”

She grew rather quiet, but she didn’t look mad. Instead, a little smile went across her face. Still, I couldn’t tell if she was angry with me for fighting, sad for being treated so meanly, or happy to have someone stand up for her.

“I’m sorry, Jill. I don’t usually get mad like that, but he smacked you, and I just-”

Jill didn’t cry or yell at me. Instead, she leaned forward, kissed me, then clasped her hands around mine and said, “Thank you.”

We continued to eat our food as if the whole incident was a big blur, a mere dream that was just a figment of our imaginations. Jill leaned her feet against mine as we ate, but I didn’t mind. I think sticking up for her triggered a new sense of appreciation for me. Our burgers were eaten in silence and with smiles on both of our faces.

As I finished my burger, a man in a grey business suit came over to our table with a beer in his hand. He had been sitting at the barstool earlier. A smile went across his face as he set the beer on the table.

“Hope you don’t mind lager!” he said.

I was a bit taken back since the waitress or bartender didn’t bring the drink over, but I gladly accepted and told the man that I didn’t mind.

“The name’s Matt Yuhal. I saw how you handled that situation back there, and I must say that I’m quite impressed!”

“Well, my dad’s a security guard, so he taught me a few restraining techniques. Oh, and I’m John Morrow.” I said as I stood up and shook the man’s hand.

“You know, you’d make a pretty good bouncer. Maybe get a little more buff and learn a few more takedowns, and you’d be set. I could sure use an extra hand at one of my clubs.”

Was this guy for real? Me? A bouncer? I definitely didn’t fit the profile for a bouncer. I was far too nice! Still, my mind told me that this was a perfect opportunity to get away from working in retail.

“No offense, sir, but I’m not sure how well that would work. You see, I live about three hours east of here. My college is only one hour away, but I don’t start up again until the end of August.”

“Hmmm.”

This was the oddest conversation I’d ever gotten myself into, and Jill looked just as confused as I did.

“Where do you go to college?” Matt asked.

“Hansen Institute of Technology.”

“Looks like you’re in luck! I’ve got a club about ten minutes south of the campus!”

“Hang on a minute, here. You’re just going to offer me a job? No interview or anything?”

“Kid, you apologized after you threw that guy out of the bar. Do you know what that tells me? It tells me that you’re able to keep your cool in tight situations.”

A job being offered to me on a silver platter, and yet I remained reluctant. I believe it was fear of the unknown that held me back. But then I had a thought. This man said he owned a few clubs. If he knew the right people, he might have been a good person to network with for when I graduated college.

“You know this wouldn’t be something I’d do for the rest of my life, right? I mean, I’m graduating in three years.”

“Oh, absolutely! I’ll even cut you a bit of a break since you’re in college. I’m thinking, maybe ten or eleven bucks an hour, if that sounds good to you.”

“Holy…ten or eleven?!”

Hey, it doesn’t sound like much, but when you’re in college and you have to struggle to make money, ten bucks an hour is pretty good!

“What do you think, Jill?” I asked.

“I say go for it! What have you got to lose?” she smiled.

I accepted the offer and told Mr. Yuhal that I’d call him when I was ready. That was what got me into my bouncing job. Yeah, pretty cool, eh? That’s not something that happens every day. Mr. Yuhal left our table and we got up to leave.

* * *

We spent the rest of the night on Jill’s couch. The television played something boring, but I didn’t care. The only thing on my mind was telling Jill what I’d wanted to say earlier. I made it look like I was focused on the television as I planned my confessions. A half hour later, I was ready to tell her.

“Jill?”

Jill looked over as she leaned a little more into my side.

“Something’s still bothering you, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Kind of, but I want to tell you now. I just ask that if it’s too soon that you tell me right away.”

“Sure thing!”

I took a deep breath and sighed.

“First of all, I’ve decided that I don’t want to lose you again. Call me crazy, but honestly, I just feel so strongly like you’re the one. You must be, otherwise I wouldn’t be telling you this right now.”

“To tell you the truth, John, I wasn’t so sure at first. But after tonight, I’m beginning to feel the same way about you.”

I smiled in relief and thanked God for what I’d just been told. But that was only one obstacle I’d made it over. I still had the mountain to climb.

“What was the other thing you wanted to tell me?”

“Well…I hope this isn’t too soon for you, but,” I said with a pause, “I will never be able to fully understand how hard it must be for you to lose your baby, but I want to let you know that if you find it too hard to deal with, then I’ll…”

“Go on. It’s okay.”

“I will give up that side of me if it brings back any painful memories.”

A huge part of me now lay on an altar of sacrifice, waiting to be given up as an offering to our relationship. I almost cried when I thought of what she would say, because this wasn’t something that I could just shake off. This would take me some serious counseling and therapy to get rid of, if I could indeed get rid of it at all.

“Aw, John, that’s so sweet of you! But, actually…”

The knife was in my hand and ready to stab my infantilist side through its chest. This was where the outcome of the rest of my life would be decided. A price I almost didn’t want to pay to be with Jill.

“…I’ve been thinking about that side of you since I had my miscarriage. I know that sounds kind of silly since I was with Nick at the time, but I remembered the last time you and I did that, and how much of a bond we had. Now I’m not sure if the bond will be the same because of my miscarriage, but I’d be willing to try it out and see if it helps me cope with my loss.”

That was it. It’d possibly be one last babying session. The grand finale of my desire to be babied by Jill, and to be diapered, and fed a bottle, and burped. And loved. One last chance. I could only hope that it would be enough to make her want to continue. Time was now the only thing left standing in our way.

“That sounds fair. And Jill, it will be whenever you feel you’re ready, even if that takes a while. I am a patient man.”

“I’d like to try it sooner than later.” Jill smiled and winked at me. “And, if you don’t mind, I’m wondering if you’d be willing to try a few new things out when we are ready. Don’t worry, though. I promise it’s nothing to hurt you in any way. It’s just…something to make my bond with baby a little greater. I’ll let you figure the rest out.”

I became giddy for a moment, but I kept it in and nodded my head. A greater bond between a mother and a baby meant a few things, and I think you know what I’m talking about. I asked Jill how soon was “sooner”, and she told me in a couple of weeks. They would go by rather quickly, and at that point in my life I could truly say that I was happy again. I’m now a true believer in the old saying that “the best things come in threes.” A new job, a restored relationship, and a chance to allow my babyish desires to be fulfilled once again.

Chapter Eleven

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain my love for Jill. The weekend of our getting back together only caused me to love her more, and during my patient waiting period for Jill to baby me, she and I talked just about every day. Sometimes I’d even call her while I was working, but nobody knew since I was usually the only one in the backroom. Working and waiting. That’s all I did during the weeks preceding our sacred time. And on that special day, my love for her would become one of the strongest emotional attachments I’ve ever had with anyone before.

We had it all planned out. I’d ordered some more of the same type of diapers off of the internet, and Jill still had some of her baby things: pacifiers, baby bottles, baby wipes and powder, and even a nursery, minus the furniture (she told me she’d gotten rid of the crib and changing table shortly after her miscarriage since it made her upset at the time). I still wondered what she’d meant about making her bond with her “baby” greater, but I’d find out shortly.

The drive to her house seemed to be much quicker this time around, but that was probably because I was far too excited to notice the time. I prayed every other half hour that Jill babying me would allow her to cope with her loss and that this could become an important part of our relationship. Sure, it wouldn’t be all of the time, (thank goodness for that!) but it would help us to remain open with each other. However, if for some reason Jill couldn’t cope, I vowed to do my best to overcome and eventually snuff out my infantilist desires, no matter how hard it would be.

I pulled into Jill’s driveway and got my things out of my car as I took a deep breath. It’d been so long! Would it be the same? Would she still be as nurturing as she was the time before, or would things be awkward? And most importantly, would this be the last time?

Before I reached her porch, Jill came rushed out of the house and gave me a tight hug and a brief but enjoyable kiss.

“I missed you!” she said with a smile.

“Well, we’ve got the next couple of days together, so we’ll have to make up for it!”

“Definitely!”

We headed inside where the television blared some comedy show and the lamps gave off an inviting aura. I set my bags down and stretched out my legs. The straight shot to Jill’s house had taken its toll on my body, but I tried my best not to appear tired right away. While I had an idea as to what our babying session would be like, I had no idea when Jill planned on having it. For all I knew, it could’ve been for the whole weekend, a couple of hours, or maybe even for just a few minutes, depending on the circumstances.

“You look tired, John.”

“Just a little.”

“That’s alright. I didn’t have much planned tonight. Want to watch a movie and cuddle?”

“That sounds good right about now.”

“Okay!”

We went into the living room, sat on the couch, and Jill leaned into my chest while she picked up the remote. It didn’t take long for us to find a movie. I don’t really remember what we watched that night, but I do know that it was some trippy comedy about people getting high and traveling across the country. Due to its dated look and feel I found it very hard to stay awake, but I rubbed Jill’s arm to keep my mind somewhat stimulated. Jill occasionally did the same with me throughout the duration of the movie.

The clock struck eleven when the movie finished. Normally I’d be awake for another couple of hours, but for some reason I was extremely tired that night. My brain told my body to try to stay awake longer, but my body felt otherwise and wouldn’t allow my eyes to stay open for more than a few seconds.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Time for bed.” Jill giggled.

“That time already?” I yawned. “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay up longer. I don’t know why I’m so tired tonight.”

“Aw, it’s fine. Would you want to sleep up with me, or down here on the couch?”

“I’d like to sleep with you.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I can start tonight!”

“Start what?”

That was the dumbest question I asked over the course of that entire summer break. I didn’t even attempt to put the pieces together!

“To baby you!”

“Ohh!” I said, sounding a bit more excited than I probably should’ve sounded.

“Hehe. I was going to wait until tomorrow if you chose to sleep down here tonight, but it looks like we’re in luck!”

“Yeah!”

I almost floated out of the living from the feeling of weightlessness in my head. A mere kite caught in the winds of bliss and anticipation. It was time to get this started!

“Seeing how we’re both tired, I think I’ll only do a couple of things. Tomorrow I’ll make sure the experience is as best as I can make it.” Jill said with a smile.

Had she gotten a renowned sense of confidence? Was she no longer afraid that babying me could make her upset? Even stranger was that she really sounded like she wanted to do this! It wasn’t a bad strange, but it still felt surreal.

“Well, I’m ready when you are!” I said happily.

Jill asked me to grab what I’d brought with me, which I quickly complied. She then grabbed me by the hand ever so gently and led me up the stairs. I shook with excitement as I nearly tripped up the steps.

At first I thought that we were going to go into the nursery, but Jill told me that we’d wait until the next morning when we were more awake. We found our way into what appeared to be her room, which had one of the largest beds that I’d ever seen in it. I guessed that it was a king-sized mattress, but it looked a lot bigger than what they showed on television commercials. Her cherry oak colored dresser stood in the corner of her room, and the air conditioner silently hummed as it stuck out of her window. A faint smell of apples and cinnamon crept into my nose. This was where I wanted to be.

Jill asked me to lie face up on her bed. I did so without hesitation and wondered what she had in store this time around. I suddenly felt her hands caressing my arm very lightly, and she quietly giggled and looked down at me like a mother looks down at her child.

“My baby boy. My beautiful baby boy. Oh yes you are!” she cooed quietly as her hands made their way up to my face and hair.

I sunk into her bed as the euphoria encircled every part of my body. A smile of ultimate bliss made its way across my face as a tingling sensation shot down my spine. She was doing it—no, we were doing it! We once again became an inseparable bond, and my heart told me that it wanted to explode. Jill lowered her face even further and kissed me lightly on the cheek as her hair brushed across my lips and the sweet smell of her perfume intoxicated me.

“Okay, baby. Let’s get a nice, fresh diaper on you!” she smiled. “Mommy will be right back.”

Jill got up and left the room for only a moment, then returned with a handful of things, including a package of baby wipes, a canister of baby powder, a pacifier, and even a blue baby blanket. She set the items down on the bed, then quickly laid out the baby blanket. The blanket was rather small for me to fit my entire body on, but I didn’t care; it was the thought that counted!

“Okay! I think this is everything. Now, let’s get baby’s diaper changed.”

I moved over onto the blanket and once again assumed the laying position. The blanket was made of some kind of plush that my hands didn’t wish to let go of once they touched it. Jill dangled the pacifier above my lips for a few seconds, then gently inserted it into my mouth as she and I both laughed. To this day, I still tend to laugh at myself every now and then when I’m playing the role of the infant, mostly because I feel so silly. Hey, everyone’s gotta learn to laugh at themselves sometime.

Jill didn’t ask me to lift my legs or even “switch off” her maternal instincts to talk to me this time around. No, instead she gently placed her arm under my legs, and I automatically knew what she wanted to do. Within a minute (and with my help), I was lying half naked on the baby blanket. Have you ever had your heart beat so loudly that you could hear it in your brain? Yeah, that was me that night.

“Aww you look so cute with your pacifier! You’re gonna look even cuter with your dydee on!” Jill cooed as she grabbed my black bag off of the floor.

She unzipped the bag and pulled out the still perfect stack of crisp, clean diapers and cooed to me once again about how cute they were. She then set the diapers down next to me and placed one of them on my stomach, making sure to lift my shirt up a bit so I could feel the softness on my body. The diaper taunted me as it lay there, and this only increased my excitement.

“First we wipe you clean alllll over your legs and bottom.”

I was wiped down ever so slowly and gently that I started to think that maybe Jill really did think I was an infant, not that I minded.

“Then we take the baby powder and powder your little bottom so you don’t get dydee rash. Mmm, smells so nice as always.”

Jill powdered me generously, and the babyish smell caused my body to produce even more endorphins. Someone could’ve shot me or inflicted any kind of serious pain on my body and I probably wouldn’t have felt it. I felt invincible. She rubbed in the baby powder very carefully, and it caused me to squirm with delight.

“Awww you wike that baby-waby? Hehe you do! Yes you do! Well, now it’s time to get this cute little dydee on you!”

I lifted my legs for Jill as she took the diaper and unfolded it with a smile. She then carefully slid it beneath me and placed the front of it carefully between my legs. Her hands lightly tickled my stomach, followed by her nose as she cried, “gootchie-goo!” That’s when I felt like I could float off of the bed. It probably would’ve made diapering me easier.

Jill then expertly taped up the diaper and smiled as she said, “All done! And look how cute you look!” I simply responded with a smile from beneath the pacifier. I thought she was done, but she then gently rolled me onto my stomach, pulled the back of my diaper open a bit, and sprinkled some more powder into the seat of the diaper. We both laughed, and I felt her gently pat my butt. The room then smelled even more like a nursery.

Soon after, all of the supplies were cleared from the bed, including the blanket. Once that was done, Jill removed her clothing and put on some pajama bottoms. No shirt, however, and yet I still told myself that she didn’t put one on because she was simply too hot. Still, a part of me had a gut feeling about why she decided not to wear one. It’d only be a bit longer until I found out. She hopped into the bed and held me close to her with one hand around my back and the other around my diaper. We stayed that way for a while, with Jill rocking me gently and holding me close. I reciprocated my love for her by holding onto her just as tightly. Then, a miracle.

“My good widdle baby boy. Let’s lay you across mommy’s lap.” she said sweetly as she gently pushed me down.

I wound up across her lap as she cradled my head and my diapered butt in her hands.

“Is baby hungry? If not, it’s okay.” she cooed.

I nodded my head with a smile and she quickly removed the pacifier from my mouth before she cradled me once more. Jill reached over to her night table and suddenly had a bottle in her hand. I felt myself melt into her arms as my mouth opened out of sheer desire and eagerness. I lightly grabbed the bottle and basked in the glory and comfort of being fed by the most amazing woman in the world…well, in my world, anyway.

“Ohhhh yes, baby boy. My little baby, dwink up and then I can rock you to sleepy-bye.” Jill whispered.

I just remained in place and sucked as Jill gently patted my butt. Nothing came out, but that wasn’t the point. No, the point was to make our bond greater, and it worked wonderfully. Jill’s breath grew a bit shorter, and even though my eyes were closed, I knew she was smiling. I opened my eyes to see her head lowered down and her chin pressed up against mine. I placed both of my hands around her back and held on even more as I continued to drink. There I was, a small infant in the arms of his parent. A man in the arms of his lover.

“My baby boy. You’re such a good baby boy. Oh yes.”

I felt a drop of liquid fall onto my cheek and immediately got worried. It was clear that she was crying. This was it. This would be the bitter end! I stopped for a brief second and looked at Jill, but when she looked up at me, she had a huge smile on her face.

“I’m alright, baby. I’m just…happy. Mommy’s happy.” she laughed lightly.

I sighed for a brief moment before returning to the bottle, and as I did so, we held onto each other even more tightly than before.

“Okay, my baby. It’s time for beddy-bye!”

Jill continued to hold me, though this time she rocked me even more than she had before and hummed some little lullaby. The tune sounded so angelic coming from her lips that my eyes quickly betrayed me.

“Tomorrow there will be some more of this, I promise. Thank you, my baby. Now let’s go to sleep. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” was the only phrase I spoke that night before we dozed off in each other’s arms.

[Dr_J]

Hope you're all enjoying this so far! Here are the next two chapters.

Chapter Twelve

The next morning was just as good as the night before. Neither of us looked at the time when we woke up. Instead, Jill greeted me with a “good morning” and a kiss, then continued to baby me. How, do you ask? Well, let’s just say that it far surpassed my wildest imagination. Still, I’ll indulge your curiosity and tell you exactly what happened.

She knew that I didn’t ever use my diaper, but she still checked it as if I had, just to add to the effect.

“I think it’s time for a diaper change!” she giggled.

I no longer questioned or even thought about what Jill had planned for me. No, I was so high, so light-headed from the chain of events that I truly felt as though I were nothing more than Jill’s baby. Whatever she would do, it would be out of love. It would be for her baby.

Jill helped me up to my feet and led me to the bathroom so I could relieve myself, which I did without a problem. As soon as I exited the bathroom, Jill cooed, “Did my baby wet his dydees? Awww, he did! It’s okay! Mommy’s here to change you.”

Jill led me back down the upstairs hallway, but she didn’t take me to her room. This time, she opened the door we’d passed the night before. Inside was a room whose walls were painted a pastel baby blue. There were no borders, just white baseboards. The only furniture that was inside of the nursery was a dresser and a rocking chair. A mobile hung lightly above where the crib was supposed to be, and in the corner of the room was a bountiful amount of baby supplies. Diapers, wipes, bibs. You name it, it was there. In the other corner sat a few stuffed animals. One that caught my eye was the gigantic bear that towered over the rest. It looked to be made of the same plushy material that the baby blanket was made of. Such an inviting place! This room was where my wildest dreams came to a reality. This room was the home of my hidden personality. This room, allowed me to feel happy about my lifestyle without fear of judgment.

My initial reaction was to lie down on the floor, but Jill stopped me, and then went over to the corner of the room to pull out what was undeniably a changing pad. It was a bit small, but it was still as inviting as ever. I lay down on the mat and smiled as the vinyl touched my arms. Jill then proceeded to change my diaper as if it really was wet, and as if I really was nothing more than a helpless infant who needed to be cared for.

Once that piece of heaven was bestowed upon me, Jill then led me down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she placed a few frozen waffles in the toaster. I sat at the table in my fresh diaper and felt silly as I waited, but kept my mouth shut so not to make Jill think that I was uncomfortable.

“How about I give you a quick baba before breakfast? Would you like that?” she cooed.

I nodded my head, and we then found our way to the couch, where I relaxed myself across Jill’s lap. She gently inserted the bottle into my mouth and smiled at me.

“Is my baby enjoying this?”

I nodded my head furiously.

“Good, good! Mommy wanted this to be special for you. And you know something, baby? Mommy is enjoying this, too.”

I smiled from behind the baby bottle and continued to nurse from it until it was empty (it was only a four ounce bottle so it didn’t last long, but I didn’t care). That’s when Jill carefully picked me up so I could rest my head over her shoulder and burped me. With a few gentle pats to my back and diaper, I “burped”, and we then ate breakfast in the kitchen.

Jill fed me the waffles by the forkful, and occasionally she would play the airplane game with me, but it wasn’t to humiliate me or make me feel dumb. No, she did it to make me feel like the baby that I wanted to be. And let me tell you, she was good at it. Hell, she was good at everything! I noticed that with everything she did for me, I’d wind up looking into her eyes, and no matter what she did, whether it was changing my diaper or feeding me, she always had a look of calmness and happiness on her face. I’d never seen anyone smile for that long before, nor had I myself ever smiled for such a long period of time.

Once I was fed, Jill ate up her breakfast, then told me in a loving voice that it was “time for baby’s bath”. Now I hadn’t been bathed by anybody since as far as I can remember, but something told me that Jill really wanted me to get the full experience, and I imagine that she wished to get the same. I mean, I was supposed to be her infant. I kind of took over the role of her lost son, and while I wasn’t sure about the bathing part, I told myself that this wasn’t just about me. This was also about Jill, about us. I hesitantly took Jill’s hand and we found ourselves in the bathroom.

Jill laid me down gently on a towel on the bathroom floor, then slowly removed my shirt, followed by my diaper. She then turned the water on and waited patiently as she hummed some little tune and looked at me with a serene smile. Things got quiet, but for only a moment as Jill knelt down next to me and proceeded to tickle me gently. First it was just her hands, but then she brought her nose down to muzzle my stomach. I couldn’t help but to laugh, but that was mostly because the picture of seeing myself, a grown man, lying naked on a bathroom floor being tickled by a beautiful woman just seemed so funny to me.

“Who’s a ticklish baby? You are!” Jill laughed as she continued to muzzle me.

The tickling continued until the bath was drawn. I stepped in to find that the water’s temperature was just perfect. Once I got myself settled, Jill began the bathing process. From cleaning me with a washcloth to running the shampoo through my hair, she made sure that I was the cleanest I could ever be, and to tell you the truth, I actually didn’t mind it so much. I mean, it was a bit weird at first, but then it felt pretty normal (not to mention good!).

Once she was satisfied with her work, Jill helped me out of the tub and wrapped me up in a gigantic blue towel. She then led me into her room and asked me to lay on the bed, just like the night before. This time, however, she didn’t coo me or gather any changing supplies. Instead, she sat herself next to me and whispered into my ear.

“Did my baby like that?”

I nodded my head furiously with a smile.

“Good! I’m so glad! I enjoyed it, too.”

Something told me that this was the end of our role-playing session, but then came the grand finale. Jill reached down to kiss me, and as soon as her lips landed on mine, a sense of passion swept over the entire room. The feeling of her lips on mine sent a tingle down my spine, and within moments we found ourselves beneath her covers. That morning ended with the two of us making love, and with me telling myself that this was the person I was destined to be with. This was my caregiver. This, was my love. This, was Jill.

Chapter Thirteen

With the return of our role-playing session, Jill and I hit the ground running. It was only a matter of weeks until my heart told me that this woman loved me and that I loved her. We’d see each other just about every weekend, and every few weeks or so I’d play the role of her baby. This became our routine for that summer, and I must say that it was probably one of the better summer vacations I had. But, all good things must come to an end. School was just around the corner, but the way I saw it, I’d be closer to Jill, plus I’d have my own dorm room again. I looked forward to the upcoming school year. Hell, I looked forward to life itself! But, as you know, there always has to be something to rain on your parade.

My first semester of my sophomore year flew by, and once again I’d made it onto the President’s List. Jill and I continued to build our relationship, my roommates and I had good times partying, and I didn’t have a care in the world. The following semester was when parts of my blissful world were invaded by the cruelty of other people.

My roommate Dan had invited his girlfriend and her best friend up for a party over the weekend before Spring break. I didn’t have a problem with it, so I told him that they were more than welcome to come up and party. And so they did. Dan’s girlfriend, Alison, was alright. She was quiet, but she was pleasant. Alison’s best friend Erica, however, was a different story. She appeared nice, but I was able to see through her like a glass bottle. Something about her tone of voice told me to be wary of her, but I held my breath and still treated her with respect.

Jill and I had been talking on the messenger program in my room. I know, I know, some boyfriend I am to not talk on the phone, right? Well, the thing is that I could get more schoolwork done when I wasn’t talking on the phone, so that’s just how we did things during the week. But anyway, I’d gotten into a deep conversation with Jill about why I enjoyed being babied. We came up with a bunch of different theories, then discussed more about what exactly triggered my desires. I remember I’d told her something about seeing fresh diapers, and how seeing them always triggered something almost automatically. After about a half-hour or so, I remembered that I had to visit a colleague a few dorms down to help him with his homework, so I told Jill goodbye and left my room door open without closing my messenger program. I didn’t really think that anyone would just barge into my room, because my roommates and I had made a pact about respecting each others’ privacy. So I went on my merry way to my friend’s dorm.

Within an hour of helping my friend, my job was done. It was almost ten at night, and I just wanted to cap the night off with an ice cold lager. I hurried my way back to my dorm, and once I entered, Alison and Erica looked like they were on their way out the door.

“Leaving already? You just got here!” I joked.

“No, no,” Alison chuckled, “we have to go to the store to get some drinks and stuff. Do you need anything?”

“Nah, I’m fine, thanks!”

“You sure? No food or soda or anything?” Alison asked again.

“I’m sure. Thanks, though.”

“Diapers?” Erica said with an evil grin.

A verbal slap in the face. That’s the only way I can describe the way she’d made her remark. All of the good feelings I’d been having, everything I’d been looking forward to, all came to a screeching halt because of one word asked in the form of a question. How did she know? Was she just joking?

“What?” I asked while laughing to play it off as if I didn’t know what she was talking about.

I looked down the hallway to see that my computer screen was still on. Now normally it would have blanked out after just fifteen minutes of staying idle, which meant somebody had been in my room. That somebody was Erica. And there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she’d read been looking through my conversation.

“Nothing.” Erica smirked as she left.

The evil in her eyes became more visible as she exited the building, and felt my body tingle with fear. It’d have been one thing if she just went into my room to see what my setup looked like, but this was far more severe. Not only did this stranger invade my privacy, but she also used it against me in a threatening manner. I found it much harder to think of how I’d handle the situation since this person would be coming back into my dorm. If I yelled at her for entering my room, there was a chance that she’d expose who I really was to my roommates. However, I thought about it for a moment: would anyone have believed her if she told them something so unusual? My initial feeling was that they’d just call her stupid and laugh. Still, I had to come up with a way to make sure that she didn’t come back, because even though I’d only known her for such a short while, she was still my enemy.

“Hey Dan! Can I talk to you for a minute, bro?” I asked him.

“Yeah! What’s up?”

I then explained to him how I had a feeling that someone had gone into my room.

“Are you shitting me? I should’ve known!” he threw his hands up in the air.

“What do you mean?”

“Alison’s friend! I saw her going down the hallway earlier, but I didn’t think anything of it. She was down there for a while, too.”

“I kind of figured it was her. She gave me some odd looks right before she left.” I said.

“Damn. Stupid bitch! Don’t tell Alison I told you this, but I really don’t like Erica that much.”

“I didn’t have a problem with her until now.”

“Yeah. Well, don’t worry, bro. I’ll make sure she doesn’t come back up here anymore after tonight.”

Once the girls returned, the night moved on as if nothing even happened, though in my heart I felt weak. Something that I had to accept had the power to nearly bring me to my knees in panic and fear. It really made me wonder if I really would have to live this second life in secrecy. Sure, it was a harmless part about me in which I couldn’t just stop participating in, but I felt that if society were to see the clash of infantile tendencies with adults, then they’d automatically think of pedophilia.

Before the night ended, I’d talked to Jill about what had happened and how I felt about the whole thing. She of course was upset and apologized.

“Don’t you let her get to you. And if she does happen to try to use it against you, I’ll drive right up there and kick her ass!” Jill reassured me.

A few weeks went by, yet the incident with Erica still played fresh in my mind, almost as if I’d been forced to watch it like it were some kind of punishment. I didn’t like it one bit, and sadly, things only got more intense from there. I can recall another night when my friends and I had a cookout. Jill came up for the weekend, and we’d all been having the best time of our lives as usual. There’s something about drinking a beer and cooking up burgers with your friends that just screams perfection. That is, of course, until certain discussions arise.

The night came as we’d finished eating and drinking a bit more. Everyone shared their crazy experiences with each other while we sat at the table outside of our building. Nothing could ruin the time we had.

“Oh, shit! You guys want to hear something really messed up?” my roommate, Dan, shouted.

We all nodded and listened intently, with the exception of a few people making jokes off to the side about one of the RAs.

“Well, Joe and I were watching this special on TV last night, and it was sick! There were actually these people who liked dressing up in diapers and acting like kids.”

My smirk came off of my face almost immediately as I felt something in my chest increase in size.

“I heard about those people,” one person interjected, “I guess they like to shit themselves and be taken care of by people and they get off on it.”

“Ew!” Dan’s girlfriend cried with a look of absolute disgust on her face.

I held my breath and tried to focus on Jill, but she saw the expression on my face and gave me a concerned look. She knew I was uncomfortable, but I couldn’t just get up and leave, otherwise they’d have suspected me.

“Yeah tell me about it! Sick freaks out there, man! If I ever saw someone doing that, I’d probably kick their ass just for being so messed up.”

Would you kick my ass? No…don’t say it aloud, John. Deep breaths. That’s it…just don’t listen.

“I mean, who the hell would want to wear diapers and do all of that stupid shit?”

There was a small burst of laughter from most of the people sitting at the table, and the more people I saw laughing, the smaller I felt. Jill knew not to tell the group her thoughts on the matter, but she gripped my hand and clenched it tightly to ease my anxiety.

“Why do homosexuals like to go out with people of the same sex?” I asked.

All eyes fell on me.

“What? What does that have to do with anything?” Dan asked.

“A lot, actually.” There was a dryness in my mouth, but I couldn’t end it on that note. “I mean, I guess I’d say people just have their different preferences, you know? I mean, sure it might seem sick to some, but to them it’s probably second nature. It’s just our failure to grasp the concept that makes people dislike them so much. ‘Fear of the unknown’.”

There was a bit of silence, and I waited for somebody to accuse me of being an infantilist.

“That’s got to be one of the best arguments I’ve ever heard in my entire life!” Joe exclaimed.

A few people agreed and were surprised by my response, but Dan and some others still felt the need to express their true hatred towards people like me.

“No way! I can grasp it perfectly. Some people are just sick and they need to be sent to a mental home! I mean, what would you do if you knew somebody who was into that shit, man?” Dan looked at me.

What would I do? A question that had never been asked before. I thought about it for a moment. Obviously I’d accept that person with open arms, mostly because I too was an infantilist and I understood the concept, but Dan…no, the crowd couldn’t know that.

“Honestly, Dan, I’d-” I stopped myself short. “I really don’t know.”

With a few more hateful remarks from Dan and a few others, the conversation ended, and so did the night. I dragged myself into my room with Jill behind me. We closed the door and I sighed as I took my clothes off and got ready for bed.

“Don’t you listen to them, John. You and I both know that you’re a great person, no matter what. And you know I love every part of you!”

“Do you think he’d be my friend if he knew? Did you hear how angry he and the others got over this? I have to hide this in order to keep people like him off of my back! I understand what I am, Jill, but I can’t understand how people can be so ignorant.” I climbed into my bed and faced the ceiling.

“I know, John.” Jill said as she cuddled next to me and ran her fingers through my hair. “But just try not to listen to them.”

“How can I not?”

“Well…” Jill paused for a moment, “…I know! Just don’t take that part of you so seriously! Try not to make it so important, and maybe it’ll help!”

I’d never thought of that before. Jill had given me an epiphany! I’d been putting my infantilism on some kind of pedestal, when in fact I should’ve just been treating it like it was just another part of my personality. I smiled at the thought.

“You’re right, Jill. I think I may even have to learn to laugh at myself a bit. I mean, a college kid wearing a diaper? That’s kind of funny when I think about it.”

“There you go!” Jill laughed. “But do you know what the difference between you wearing a diaper and some other random kid wearing one? You look absolutely adorable in them.”

“Ah, come on! You’re making me blush!”

“What? I’m just saying!”

We both laughed some more before we drifted off to sleep. I think there was a reason for me to endure these two incidents, and Jill was there to help me find the answers. All that time I’d made my desire more important than it should’ve been, and that caused me to become afraid. But that fateful night, even through the turmoil, I’d managed to find both my courage and my ability to not take things so seriously all of the time. These two things would make my life so much better in the future.

[Dr_J]

Good morning. Here are Chapters 14, 15, and 16!

Chapter Fourteen

Since the night of Dan’s public announcement regarding his prejudice against infantilists, I’d learned to come to terms with the age-old saying, “people change.” My wariness of others greatly increased, but at the same time I’d taught myself to brush off the words that people like Dan said and to not take my infantilism so seriously.

Things kind of returned to normal after that. About once a month, Jill would baby me, and it never got boring. In fact, she’d told me that it made our sex life rather interesting, which made me happy. I don’t know that many people who can say that about their significant other, but then again, I don’t know that many people in general.

Life was steady-going. I continued to be successful in school, and I finally took up that job offer as a bouncer. To be honest with you, I was rather reluctant to try it out, especially since I knew how people got when they’d be denied entry into a club. However, the pay was fantastic, and my boss had even allowed me to only work every other weekend.

The first few weeks there weren’t too bad. I had a few drunkards try to convince me to let them in without their ID cards, and a few women even attempted to persuade me with their good looks, which didn’t work too well on their part. Others tried to bribe me with money, and some even had the nerve to try to sneak in while I stood in the doorway. I’d have to tell them to leave the premises, and sometimes even restrain them if they got too agitated. This led to verbal insults and sometimes fistfights that only lasted mere minutes. The name-calling and insults didn’t really get to me. Well, not at first, anyway.

It seemed that the more rude comments people made to me for doing my job, the more stress I felt. Now, I didn’t ever lose my cool in the situations, but I would get rather upset with the people who felt the need to spew every cuss word in the book towards my direction because they wanted to break the rules. I’d always learned from my father two very important things: the first was that you should never bring your personal problems with you to work and vice-versa, and the second was that you shouldn’t let people get to you. I had a problem applying of both these skills to my life at the time.

On the nights when I’d head back to Jill’s, I could almost feel my blood pressure rising. All of the name-calling and angry faces stuck in my brain like photographs with captions, and while there were a few good people who came into the club while I worked, they weren’t enough to make me remember them. Pessimism quickly became my best friend. I think what got to me the most was that the people thought that I was nothing more than an oaf due to the fact that I worked as a bouncer. What they saw was a built man in a tight black shirt, but what they couldn’t see was my college education or my sense of humor, or even that I was just like them.

I remember one night after work I once again headed to Jill’s house. I’d driven the entire way there without any music and with the windows shut. Normally the music would have been blaring out the window and my vocal cords would have been put to the test, but not that night. That night, my anger filled up the car with so much pressure that I swore the windows would shatter, all because of a group of punks, too.

Work ran smoothly for the first few hours of my shift, but I learned the concept of Murphy’s Law rather quickly. A group of rowdy kids stood in line as they shouted obscenities at everybody who walked by. I’d radioed my boss to let him know that they might be trouble, so he came out to see what the commotion was all about. It only took my boss half a minute to make his decision. The group was not to be allowed into the club. I wasn’t allowed to leave my position to let the group know, so I waited until they came up towards the entrance, and when they were ready to show me their IDs, I simply told them, “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in the club.”

I received a variety of responses, such as, “That’s bullshit!”, “Why the hell not?!” and “So what you sayin’?!” I calmly told the group that my boss and I had overheard them shouting obscenities in a hostile way, so my boss didn’t want them causing any trouble inside. They definitely didn’t take it too well.

“What?! Man, you bunch of racists! You’re just not letting us in ‘cuz we’re not white!”

“Please,” I said sarcastically, “we aren’t letting you in because you practically tried to pick a fight with every person who walked past the line. Now you’re more than welcome to come back another night, but if you pull this again, you won’t be allowed in.”

“You think you’re so tough, huh? Think you’re all big and bad ‘cuz you’re a big bad bouncer?”

“I don’t want any trouble. Now get out of here.” I said calmly.

“Psh. Bouncer? This guy’s more like a little bitch!”

The group laughed and continued to stand their ground. I flipped the switch on my radio so that my boss could hear what was going on.

“I need some backu-” I was cut short by an intense pain in the left side of my face.

The next thing I knew I was on the ground, but not for long. I got up and managed to restrain one of the three hoodlums. I threw him into his friends, causing them to all fall down.

Two more bouncers ran out of the club and subdued two of the individuals while I grabbed one and made sure that he couldn’t go anywhere.

“Fuckin’ idiot throwing a punch at me? Let me tell you something-” I yelled into the man’s ear.

“Shut up, bitch!”

I applied more pressure and quickly heard a scream of agony. Within moments, my boss came out of the club and I explained the situation to him. The cops were called, the three punks were arrested, and I went back to work with an inability to shake off what had happened. The night continued to go downhill from there, with more rude people insulting me and my shift slowing down to a crawl.

By the end of the night, I felt more tension in my body than I ever had before. As mentioned before, the car ride was anything but pleasant. I bit my lip in spite of my urge to punch my driver’s side window and wondered if the night could get any worse. I’d actually considered not going to Jill’s that night because I was afraid of biting her head off. I took my sweet time driving to her house and took deep breaths to avert the stress. That only helped for a bit. I couldn’t help but see the face of the person who had punched me.

“Son of a bitch!” I screamed as I slammed my hand down on my steering wheel. “Call me a racist?! Throw a punch at me?! Damn it! What did I do?!”

The screaming led to a raspy voice, which made me sound like I was about 40 years old, but it was a fitting voice for how I felt. I felt upset and broken, like someone who’d just found out that the people he wanted to believe in wound up being nothing of what he expected. At that point, I didn’t think there was anything that would make me happy. Only time would tell.

Once I arrived at Jill’s, I exhaled deeply and checked the side of my face. A bruise could be seen. It wasn’t horrible, but it was definitely noticeable. I sighed and headed up to Jill’s porch. The porch light turned on before I made it up the first step, and out came Jill with her sweet smile and light scent of perfume. There were no words said in the beginning. She knew by the look on my face and the way I staggered up the stairs that I was nowhere near happy.

“Aww, John! What happened?” she sympathetically asked.

“Let’s see. Classes sucked, work sucked, I received verbal abuse all night, and oh! I got punched in the face for not allowing somebody into the club.”

“You poor thing! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine-it’s just-damn it! You know, you’d think after years of receiving verbal abuse from my father that I’d be able to handle some fuckin’ nobodies treating me like shit, but-damn it…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be yelling like this.”

“No, no! Don’t apologize! It sounds like you’ve had a rough day, buddy!” Jill said as she placed her hand underneath my chin to examine the mark on my face.

I could feel myself trembling from the stress as she touched my face. Those people, every word that came out of their mouths, and the punch I’d received, all making sure to painfully get under my skin. With each face I saw old memories of when my father had verbally abused me. He’d say horrible, unimaginable things to me over the smallest things that I did. If I didn’t pick up the phone in an adequate amount of time, I’d be called stupid. I’d spill a cup of water, and obscenities would shoot out of his mouth. Granted, this was before we found out that he was bipolar, but regardless, even after all of the years that went by, I couldn’t forget what he had said and what kind of emotional damage he’d done to me. And these worthless nobodies made me feel the same exact way. So little, so helpless, so…

“I’m sorry Jill!” I cried in a raspy voice as I dropped to my knees.

“Awwww, John! Come here! Come on…let’s go inside.” Jill kissed me on my face and put her arm around me to help me get up.

We made our way inside and Jill removed my coat for me. I took a few deep breaths as I sat on her couch while Jill sat beside me and scratched the back of my head with her nails and placed her head against my shoulder. I didn’t cry for much longer after that, but I could still feel tension. That’s when I would come to find out how beneficial my infantilist side could be.

“Poor John,” Jill whispered as she gently scratched my back.

The motion of her hand on my back had an instant relaxing effect on my body, so I just took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Jill continued this elegant movement for just a while longer, and then she lightly grabbed my hand and pulled me down to the floor.

“All stressed out. How are you going to get any sleep? Now, John, you lay right here and keep your eyes closed. Can you do that for me? Keep them closed until I tell you to open them.”

I nodded my head, and I clenched my eyes shut as I heard Jill get up and leave the room. It would only be moments until I found out what she was going to do, even though part of me knew what it was.

 

Chapter Fifteen

Jill’s footsteps could be heard from where I was, but they were soon silenced by the sound of my beating heart. Would this really take the stress away, or would it merely mask it and cause problems later?

“Good! Your eyes are still closed.” Jill said sweetly.

Here it came! Jill was going to put me into a diaper and baby me again like she had a few times before in an effort to relieve my stress. At the rate we had gone with the whole babying thing, I knew that she liked it just as much as I did…but what else did she like? What made Jill as happy as me when I got babied? What was her desire? It was a thought that had crossed my mind. I just hadn’t asked her yet.

“Okay, my baby. It’s okay. I’ll make you feel better.”

Something was wrong. I wasn’t feeling it! I wasn’t feeling the excitement! My thoughts about making Jill happy and a sudden fear that our game would get old took away from the feelings of bliss and serenity I normally felt at a time like that. Jill gently lifted my shirt up a bit and placed what I knew to be a clean, unfolded diaper on my stomach. I felt her tug at my pants a bit when I finally spoke up.

“Jill?”

“Is something wrong?” Jill asked.

I opened my eyes to see a look of concern on her face. For a second she looked like she was afraid, almost as if she thought I was going to say something to hurt her, but I smiled and placed my hand on the side of her face.

“It’s-I really love what you’re doing for me. It really makes me happy.” I said.

“Aww, well it makes me happy, too!” Jill said with a smile. “Now why don’t you lie back down? Forget about everything tonight, John! Just relax.”

“But what else makes you happy, Jill?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” I said as sat up and held the diaper in my hand, “what you’ve been doing for me makes me the happiest person in the world, and I know that you enjoy it as well, but what about you? What can I do to make you the happiest person in the world?”

There was a brief silence, but we both smiled as Jill took a deep breath.

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?” she asked.

“It’s been on my mind for the past few weeks, yes. I just want to do something for you sometimes. You baby me every now and then, and I want to do something in return.” I explained.

“Is it all right if I tell you a little later? I want to do this for you first.” she smiled and gave me a light kiss.

“Well, if you put it that way,” I laughed, “I can wait until later tonight. You’re sure?”

“Positive. Now, where were we? Oh, yes! Baby needs to lie down so he can relax.”

Jill gently pushed me back down and was well on her way to making me feel like one of the most loved people on the planet. It only took a few moments for her to remove my pants and boxers, and the moment endowed me with a superior feeling of bliss. Work wasn’t on the mind, and neither was the pain on the side of my face. The only thing I could think about was the smell of baby powder and this beautiful woman of mine looming over me. It sounds silly, but I actually enjoyed her diapering me this way more than when she was at my feet. There was something about her kneeling beside me and reaching over me to tape the diaper up that just made the experience all the better.

My night of being babied went on as usual. Jill didn’t miss a beat playing her role. In fact, she seemed to take it a step further than usual as she checked my diaper before she actually changed it (I think she knew that I liked the extra baby talk). A baby bottle and a few burps later and it was just about time for us to hit the hay. I got into my pajamas and stretched out on Jill’s bed. When she came in to get dressed, I couldn’t help but to notice how beautiful she looked. Her blonde hair swayed back and forth as she slowly walked towards her bed, and her pajamas really brought out her flawless figure. I had to take my mind off of how beautiful she was before I forgot to ask her the question that had been on my mind for so long.

“Did that help you any, John?” Jill asked sweetly.

“You know it! Thanks so much.” I smiled as I helped her get into her bed.

“You’re welcome.”

We got under the covers and cuddled as the light whirring of the fan drowned out the sound of the neighbor’s dog barking. Why couldn’t I ask her? Maybe because it was awkward to ask what she liked? Or, maybe it was because I’d never asked a girl that kind of question before. I knew she was waiting for me to ask, so I turned to face her and smiled.

“I want to make you the happiest woman in the world, Jill.” I spoke quietly. “What do I have to do to make you feel that way?”

“Well,” Jill sighed and paused for a moment, “it’s kind of embarrassing to say out loud.”

Could it have been that strange? I knew in my heart that I’d never laugh at Jill for whatever she was into, but it would take a bit of convincing before she’d be tell me, (though I had a feeling that whatever it was, it couldn’t be as odd as what I was into).

“If you feel more comfortable writing it down, that’s okay.” I said with a smile.

“That’s why I love you, John! Such a sweetheart!” Jill kissed me on the lips. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I’d never do such a thing! And don’t think I’m going to be weirded out or anything.”

Jill opened the drawer of her nightstand, pulled out a pen and notepad, and started to write something down, making sure I wasn’t able to see. My brain came up with a million different possibilities of what made Jill feel like the most important thing on Earth, but I kept them to myself and eagerly waited for her to show me. It wasn’t long before I heard the tearing of paper. Jill turned back towards me with a folded yellow sheet in her hand and hesitantly handed it to me.

What could it be? I thought as I smiled and carefully opened the paper.

And there it was, as clear as day. In her perfect little handwriting with the little empty circles where the i’s and j’s go, her sentence read:

I’ve always wanted to wake up to see a knight standing in my room with a red rose and a tray with breakfast on it. From there things start to “heat up”, if you know what I’m saying.

That’s all it said. The end of the sentence looked a little shaky, most likely because Jill was nervous. Her eyes told me that she wanted…no…needed me to say yes. And so I did.

“I’ll see what I can do.” I said confidently.

“Really?”

“Sure!”

Jill must’ve kissed me at least twenty times after I’d said that, but I didn’t mind. The important thing was that I now knew what she really wanted. We kissed each other good night, and without Jill noticing, I set my cell phone’s alarm to go off early the next morning. I had a lot to do when I woke up.

Chapter Sixteen

I was startled when I first felt a slight vibration on my stomach, mostly because I’d been dreaming that a cat had been sleeping next to me and it was purring, so when the vibration from my phone went off, my mind played a trick on me. Still, I managed to turn it off quietly and without waking Jill, so the plan was already underway. I kissed her on her cheek and crept out of the room.

It was 7:00am. That left me with two hours to get breakfast ready, get a red rose, and most importantly, get a knight’s costume. I didn’t think I had time to search around, so after I got dressed I flipped through the yellow pages and began my quest. The first thing I found was the location of a local florist, which was only a few blocks down the road; an easy five to ten minutes tops. The grocery store was right up the street, so that would be my last stop, and that also meant that I now only had one target left: a costume shop. I looked in the “C” section of the acclaimed most useful book ever used, but nothing showed up. The book jumped from “coats” to “couches”.

7:15a.m. Time became my worst enemy in a quarter of an hour. I rushed (quietly, of course) to the door with my car keys in my hand and sped off down the road. The mall wasn’t too far away, but it was Sunday, and that meant that all of the folks would be driving to go to church. I prayed to God that His faithful followers would choose to stay home…I’m not sure if He was angry with me, but wouldn’t you know it? Every single family in the entire town or so it seemed decided to go to an early church service. I sighed as I pressed onward.

By 7:45 I’d reached the Golden Valley mall. The place looked empty; just how I wanted it. Nothing opened until 8:00, which meant that I’d be guaranteed to be a first customer wherever I went. As I pulled into the parking lot entrance, I noticed a slogan beneath the Golden Valley mall sign: “We’ve got everything you need…and we mean EVERYTHING!” Surely that meant that there had to be some sort of costume shop! I smiled as I found a parking spot as close to the mall as possible.

The mall was open, but most of the stores inside still had their gates closed. The white and maroon checkered floors reflected the sunlight coming in from the skylights. It was rather odd walking into a mall where there was no sound. No carousel melodies playing, no radio stations blaring, no techno music coming from the rich kid clothing stores. Just pure, simple silence.

As I headed past the food court, I saw an information kiosk with a large well-lit map. My eyes scanned every bit of text on the map until I came across exactly what I was looking for: The Prop Shop. I knew what props lead to: costumes! It was just around the corner from where I was. Excitement consumed me while I made my way to my destination.

There it was: The Prop Shop. I could see from where I was a few mannequins dressed in trench coats, soldier uniforms, and even vampire attire! I grew even more excited as I rushed over to the gates of the store, but in an instant, my dreams were shattered like a window that’s hit by a baseball; the store was closed on Sundays. There were no lights on in the store. No music playing. Utter defeat.

“Damn it!” I said aloud.

I was about to storm off when I saw the lights inside the store turn on. At first I was confused, but after looking at the windows, I noticed a sign: “Clearance Sale! Everything Must Go! Make a Deal!” Then the sound of a gate being raised could be heard. It couldn’t have been!

“Good morning, sir!” a redheaded sales clerk said with a smile.

“You’re open?”

“Of course! We’re going out of business, so we’re going to sell whatever we can, whenever we can!”

A sign. That’s what the whole thing was. A sign from above. This store was open for me to come in and buy something. My selfless act of making Jill feel special must have been noticed by God, or fate, or what have you!

“Yes! That’s great!” I said in excitement as I headed into the store.

“Ooookay? Never seen anyone so excited this early on a Sunday morning, but whatever floats your boat! Can I help you find anything?” the clerk asked.

The smell of her expensive perfume stung my nostrils, and I don’t know if it was what she said or how she said it, but I didn’t like her too much. Still, I had to be nice to get what I wanted.

“I’m actually looking for a knight costume.”

“Hmmm...let’s see what we can find.”

The woman led me to the back of the store. On the way, I saw all sorts of demon masks, canes, pirate costumes, and other kinds of crazy outfits for sale. Still, some of the shelves were empty, which discouraged me greatly. However, since the woman was leading me somewhere, I told myself that she must’ve had something in store for me.

“Well,” the woman said as she stopped, “this is all we have. It’s the last one in stock and for some reason hasn’t been bought yet. I’m not sure if it’s the kind you’re looking for, but what do you think?”

I was in awe. Complete, absolute awe. The suit of armor that stood before me looked even more radiant under the fluorescent lights than I’d imagined. The costume wasn’t your typical silver color. Rather, it was graphite grey and came with a silver sword and chain mail. The helmet had a slightly pointed top with an adjustable visor. This suit was the real deal!

“Sir?”

I can’t even explain how attracted I became to this piece of metal. Never before had I wanted something so badly. I had to remind myself that the costume was really for Jill, but there wasn’t anything wrong with picturing myself in it since I’d be the one wearing it.

“Sir? Hello?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I said as I shook off the temporary obsession. “How heavy is this?”

“Don’t let it fool you. It looks heavy, but you shouldn’t have much of a problem moving around in it. It’s not real steel. It just looks and feels that way.” the clerk explained.

“So it can’t be that expensive then, can it?”

I kept my fingers crossed and held my breath as I waited for her to give me some ridiculous price.

“It’s supposed to be $200…”

Damn! $200?!

“…but we’re having out closeout sale, so name your price and we’ll see what we can do.”

I had about a thousand dollars in my bank account, and I knew that if I could negotiate a more reasonable price then my funds wouldn’t have taken as big of a hit.

“The most I’d be willing to offer you is $150. If you can do better that’d be great, but I don’t have a whole lot of time to talk you down since I’m in a rush.” I explained to the clerk to add some extra pressure.

“That sounds a little too low.” the woman said without blinking an eye.

“Miss, I have five minutes left before I walk out that door. You clearly told me to name my price, and I did. You mean to tell me you won’t sell it to me for a measly fifty dollars less?”

No response. This woman was a stone cold salesperson. It seemed bargaining with her was like asking a strict police officer to go easy on you for speeding; there was really no way around it. I wasn’t about to give up, though!

“Look,” I sighed, “I want to buy this costume, but it isn’t for me. It’s for the woman I love. She means the world to me! I’d do just about anything for her, and this costume is one of those things that I know will make her feel like the most important person to walk the Earth. I know I sound like a sap, but come on! There must be something you can do!”

“That’s so sweet,” the woman smiled, “but it’s still too cheap. 165.”

“160.”

“You’re rather persistent, aren’t you?”

“Hey, I can leave right now with my money and spend it elsewh-”

“Fine. 160. Final offer.”

“Done!”

The deal had been sealed! The woman quickly grabbed a box, took the costume apart piece by piece, and gently placed the parts inside. With ease she lifted the box and brought it to the front register. I whipped out my wallet and handed her my debit card with a wide grin on my face. I thanked the woman, grabbed my costume, and by 8:20 was back in my car and on the way to the floral shop.

I only had about 45 minutes to get back to Jill’s to start up breakfast. She usually woke up at around then on the weekends, and I wanted to make sure that she at least stayed upstairs until I had my newly acquired costume on with breakfast and a rose in hand.

The floral shop took me a mere three minutes, which included me getting out of and back into my car. That left my final stop: the grocery store. It’d be a five to ten minute drive from the floral shop, depending on the flow of cars and the luck with not being stopped by any traffic lights. It just so happened that there was neither a large number of cars on the road or a red light in sight. It was as if a path had been cleared for me just so I could make it back to Jill’s on time. I once again thanked God and ran into the grocery store to get the breakfast items.

Pancake mix, bacon, eggs, milk, and expensive orange juice, all of which came to a total of fifteen dollars and twelve cents. Sounds expensive, I know, but this was one of those no name grocery stores who liked to price gouge since they knew they were the only store of their kind for five miles, and I didn’t have time to be reluctant. The groceries were placed in brown paper bags, the cashier was paid, and I quickly headed back to my car.

8:50a.m. My heart raced and beads of sweat rolled down my forehead as I started my car and drove out of the grocery store parking lot. Now you might be wondering why I was getting so anxious about this whole thing. To tell you the truth, I have a bit of a problem when things don’t go according to plan, and also when things aren’t done on time. Lateness was never tolerated in my family, which meant we were always on time or early to wherever we had to be, with the exception of my mother, who no matter how much time she was given to get ready, be it five minutes or five hours, was always late.

After five minutes of cursing every slow driver and inappropriately fast driving, I pulled into Jill’s driveway and sighed in relief. The hard part was over! Now I just needed to get inside and keep Jill away from the first floor of her house. I decided to first bring in the groceries and flower, since they were both small and could be hidden rather easily. Just to make sure that the coast was clear, I brought the items to the porch, slowly opened Jill’s door and poked my head in to see if she was awake. Once I felt it was safe for me to head inside, I quickly entered and set all of the bags down on the kitchen counter.

Next, I grabbed the box filled with the pieces of armor, kicked my car door shut with my foot, and wobbled my way back inside. The armor clanked and clunked with every turn I made until I gently set it down in the living room on the side of the couch that couldn’t be seen from the staircase. My body begged me to take a quick break, but I refused to give in and quickly got out the frying pans and cooking utensils.

The bacon sizzled and curled in one of the pans while the pancakes slightly bubbled and transformed from oozy puddles to delicious-smelling, edible circles in the other. The clock on the coffee maker read 9:15a.m. Jill should’ve been waking up any minute! I was actually a little surprised since she hadn’t come down yet, but I shook it off and focused on breakfast. Once the bacon was finished, I wasted no time cleaning out the frying pan so I could cook up some scrambled eggs. That’s when I heard someone moving around upstairs: it was Jill.

I ran over to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. She smiled as she slowly made her way down the stairs, but I stopped her.

“Morning, John…” she mumbled.

“Good morning!” I said with a smile. “Hey, do you mind just waiting up there for a little while?”

“Hm? What for?” she yawned.

“Just…it’s a surprise.” I explained.

“Are you cooking?” she ignored my answer.

“Yeah! I’ll be up shortly! You just make sure you’re in your bed when I get up there.”

“O-okay!” Jill said with a surprised look on her face as she slowly made her way back up.

I ran back to the scrambled eggs and quickly flipped them over. Once that was done, I placed the pancakes and bacon on a plate, then grabbed the orange juice out of the grocery bag and filled a large cup with it. The scrambled eggs were then ready to eat, so I placed them on the plate as well, and then put the plate and orange juice filled glass on a wooden tray. Breakfast was ready! Now all I needed to do was get the costume on! I’d hoped that it wouldn’t give me too much trouble.

Most of the suit fit me perfectly. The greaves felt a little tight, and the helmet freaked me out since I wasn’t sure if my head would get stuck in it if I put it on all the way, but I swallowed my fear and managed to make do with what I’d purchased. Overall, the suit wasn’t too heavy and only slightly restricted my movement. It got hot rather quickly, though, so I was quick to finish putting it on and grab the tray. The rose lay vertically next to the silverware and shook gently as I carefully clanged my way up the stairs.

“John? Is that you?”

“Yep! I’ll be right up!”

“God, it sounds like you’re dragging chains up the stairs! Do you need any hel-”

“-no! Just stay up there, please. I’m coming!”

Right foot up, grab the banister, left foot up…gently…careful…almost there.

This concentrated attempt to not spill anything served me well, and after a whopping two minutes, I managed to reach the upstairs hallway. Victory was mine! Metallic sounding step by metallic sounding step, I walked into Jill’s bedroom. There she sat, with her back propped up against the headboard, and at that moment, her mouth gaped open, and she gasped one of the loudest gasps I’d ever heard in my entire life.

[Dr_J]

Chapters 17 through 19 up and ready for ya!

 

Chapter Seventeen

“Breakfast is served, my lady.” I said in the best medieval speak I could muster as I brought the tray over to Jill.

“Oh, my…God…” Jill said with a quick breath, “…John! You’re! You’re!”

“Yes, Jill,” I said with a huge grin, “surprise! A flower for my fair maiden!”

I placed the tray down on the edge of the bed, carefully picked up the red rose, and handed it to Jill with restricted movement. The suit of armor felt heavier than it had just a few moments before, and I could feel beads of sweat dripping down my back. Jill grabbed the rose in silence and caressed my costume with her free hand. Her face gleamed even more as her body slid down the headboard; she’s melted into the bed!

“I can’t believe this! I must be dreaming!” she said excitedly.

“Not at all! I figured you’d like it if I brought your dream to life instead.”

I ran my fingers through Jill’s hair and smiled as I helped her sit back up, but she instantly pushed the back of my head down towards her and gave me one of the longest kisses I’d ever received. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I’d officially made her fall even more in love with me than she’d already had.

“I can’t even explain how sexy you look in that armor!” Jill said between kisses. “Where on Earth did you find that?”

I wasn’t about to tell Jill all of the trouble I went through to get the costume, so I simply said, “Oh, I have connections.”

“Oh do you?” she said with a laugh.

“That I do! Now, my fair maiden, let us eat!”

And so we did. Every last crumb of crisp bacon, every morsel of scrambled egg, and every drop of orange juice was finished over the course of twenty minutes. One might think that I was upset since I’d worked so hard to cook breakfast, but to tell you the truth, I didn’t care at all. This was all for Jill. She was the most important thing of the day, of the moment…of my life. While she ate, I couldn’t help but notice the smile on her face, like she really felt like she was special.

I did this. I made her happy. Look at her! She doesn’t have a care in the world! That must be how I look when she takes care of me… I thought as I grinned.

Once breakfast was finished, Jill sat on the edge of her bed and turned to me with a look of adoration on her face. Her blonde hair covered her right eye, but she simply brushed it aside and placed her hand on the side of my face. No words were spoken, however. There was simply silence as her eyes screamed, “I love you” louder than any audible sound in existence. It was my belief that God was smiling down upon us at that time, and that our bond was forged into an inseparable, indestructible force. I find it funny how mere minutes can pass when you’re with somebody you love, and yet in that short amount of time you’re able to feel a lifetime of intimacy and affection. I broke our trance when I gently glided my left hand behind Jill’s back, followed by my right hand under her legs.

“What are you doing?” Jill giggled.

“It is my intention to carry you, my lady.” I carefully picked Jill up and stood up from the bed.

“Oh, is it? Whoa!” Jill screamed.

“Yes!” I exclaimed with a smile. “Now…where to, my love?”

“Well, I’d like to shower before we continue if that’s okay.”

“Very well, madam! To the shower!”

Jill laughed and wrapped her arms around my neck as I clanked down the hallway and into the bathroom. I kissed her once more before I set her back onto her feet. I was about to leave the bathroom when Jill ran to the door and slammed it shut.

“My noble knight,” Jill said in a horrible British accent, “would it be wrong of me to request that you accompany me in the shower?”

“If that is what you wish.”

Piece by piece, Jill and I removed my armor and set it gently on her ceramic tiled bathroom floor, until I was in nothing but my boxers. Jill, on the other hand, took no time removing her clothes; she removed her pajamas, shirt and underwear in two swift movements. She turned the shower on and smiled as we waited for the water to get warm. That’s when I truly saw her for who she really was. Maybe it was the way the steam moved past her body. Maybe it was her smile in combination with her true, naked body. Maybe it was how smooth her skin felt when I touched it and how my hands glided down the curves of her body, but this girl was more beautiful, more caring, and more important than anyone I’d ever met in my entire life. Some might have called it blind love, but if that was the case, then why would I still be with her today? That’s what I thought!

We both hopped into the hot, endless stream of water. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever taken a shower with a woman before, but if you haven’t, it’s…different, to say the least. I didn’t mind it, but I just hated how there wasn’t enough room for both of us to stay under the water, so after a few seconds I’d get cold and would have to wait for Jill to hurry up. Aside from that, we held onto each other like there was no tomorrow. I think Jill still envisioned me in my suit of armor, because she wouldn’t stop kissing me, even while we washed up.

When we finished, Jill grabbed the biggest, fluffiest towel she had and wrapped it around the two of us. Jill then asked me to help her grab the armor off of the floor and bring it back to her room. I complied and figured that she wanted me to continue my role as the knight.

We walked out of the bathroom and down the hall with the pieces of armor in our hands until we made it to Jill’s bedroom. She immediately placed the armor pieces on the floor and pushed me gently onto her bed. I knew what was going to happen next…or did I?

“John, you really outdid yourself this time.” Jill whispered as she kissed my neck.

“Ahh, it was nothing.” I said as I melted with every kiss I received.

“Shut up and kiss me back.” she laughed.

We kissed each other passionately and made sure that we reached each other’s weak spots; hers was right where her neck and shoulder met, and mine were my ears. With every kiss, we slipped further and further away from reality until time no longer existed. No phones going off, no talk about television shows, no drama. Just pure, complex love. We continued until Jill threw me off with a question.

“So, my knight,” she continued to whisper, “you’ve done all this for me this morning. Would you like me to return the favor? I know we’ve still got a dozen diapers with your name on them.”

It was a test. I knew it was (or at least I was almost positive that it was). She wanted to see if I still wanted something in return. She’d babied me a few times over the past few months already. Her offer was so tempting, but I wanted to make sure that this day was hers. I almost said, “If you want to, Jill…” but I stopped myself from doing so.

“This,” I said as I continued to kiss her, “is your day. I want you to enjoy it like I enjoy the times when you make me feel special.”

“So that’s a no then?” she giggled.

“How about next time?” I asked.

Jill nodded her head and we continued to intimately bond with each other until sometime before dinner that day. I don’t quite remember exactly when we stopped making love, and to be honest with you, I don’t care about how long it was. It was still one of the greatest moments of our lives.

Chapter Eighteen

Have you ever had somebody find out something about you that is so utterly embarrassing, so secretive that you truly felt like you were going to die? It can happen in an instant, which makes it all the scarier. One moment you can be talking with your parents about college, and the next your parents (or at least one of your parents) can say or do something to completely ruin both your perception of them, as well as your relationship with them. Words are said, hearts are broken, and lives can be shattered. It’s during those times that you find out which people really care about you…the only thing I can say is thank God I have Jill. Allow me to explain.

I’d been home from college for winter break during my junior year, and I brought back my essentials; my computer (which I couldn’t live without!), my clothes, and my television. The sad thing was that those things made up about half of my life at the time, and all of them were crammed into my trusty navy blue Honda Accord for the drive home. “Your whole life in a car,” as they say. Everything in my room was the same way I’d left it; my boring grey walls, the fluffy blue carpeting, the two-drawer dresser with the cherry oak finish, my queen-sized bed (a huge difference than those crappy beds they gave us at the college).

Seeing Jill over the break was going to be hard, but we’d already planned it all out. She’d come down one weekend of the break, and I’d driver over to see her on another weekend. When it got near the time for me to leave, I’d spend the last week of break at her house. But as I mentioned before, things can happen so fast, and before you know it, your life can be flipped upside down.

The second day of my break, I decided to do some Christmas shopping and had left my computer on in my room. What I didn’t know at that time was that I didn’t erase the history on my internet browser…and guess who had ordered some diapers to be sent to Jill’s house the week before? Yeah…

My shopping didn’t take too long; maybe a few hours with all of the traffic and the old people in line who decided to pay for everything with pennies. I’d managed to buy everything for everyone in one trip! For my mother I bought a rather expensive bottle of Merlot, as she loved the wine, though not in the bad way. My father really wanted some new ties and some expensive cologne, so I bought those for him, and then as a joint gift for them I bought gift certificates for dinner and a movie. As for Jill? I bought her some silky red lingerie! A year and a half might sound too soon to buy your girlfriend something like that, but look at what we’d done for each other thus far! I also bought some other gifts for a few relatives, but I won’t bore you with those details.

Everything seemed all right when I got home. Mom was at her computer desk doing some online shopping, and dad was upstairs. I figured he was just cleaning up his room or something, so I told my mom to keep facing the computer monitor so she wouldn’t see what I’d bought. Step by step I made my way up to stairs, my father still nowhere in sight.

“Where’s dad?” I asked my mom.

“I’m in your room, John.” my father replied from up the stairs.

What is he doing in my room? Must be fixing my bed or something.

I walked in to see my father at my computer with the internet browser up on the screen, waiting and ready for its next user to surf the web. That’s when I remembered; I’d forgotten to clear the history! Stupid me! For a time I’d made it so the history would automatically be cleared whenever I closed the program, but since a lot of my final projects required research, I’d left that function off for the last few weeks of school. And now my father was just a click away from finding out what I really was!

“What’s up, dad? What are you doing in here?” I asked nicely to hide my fear.

“Well, your mother’s hogging up the computer downstairs,” my dad said jokingly, “so I figured I’d use yours.”

I didn’t think before I was going to say next at that moment. No, I was so stricken with fear that instead of coming up with something smart like, “Well, I have some gifts here, so can you just leave for a moment so I can put them away?” which would’ve allowed me to clear my history, I foolishly said, “Well do you think next time you could ask?”

My dad laughed a bit and asked, “Ohhh, you been looking at pictures of hot girls?”

Now if you don’t know my dad, he always made jokes like that no matter what was going on. If I was hanging out with my friends in high school in my room, my dad would come in and say, “Smoking the weed again, eh boys?” or something ridiculous like that. He was generally a good man, and has a good heart. But something else you should know about my dad is that he wasn’t always like this. When I was younger, my father had bi-polar disorder (though at the time he didn’t know it) and would be unwilling to listen to reason if he got upset or mad about something. My mother and I endured a hellish amount of verbal abuse, sometimes demeaning enough to make us feel like we were complete trash. Sometimes I’d almost wished if he had hit me instead of saying some of the things he did.

While he did get help right before I graduated from high school, he still had those times when he just didn’t know how to let up on something. Those times when he’d get so mad that he didn’t even realize what he was saying. Sadly, this was one of those times. Part of it was my fault for being defensive, but part of it was also my dad’s fault for not being understanding.

“C’mon, dad! I have a girlfriend! I’ve just grown used to having people ask me to use my stuff since I’ve been in school, that’s all.” I explained.

“Well, it’ll just take me five minutes.”

“Seriously,” I said in an almost raspy voice, “I-I just don’t like people messing with my stuff.”

“Jeez, John! You’re getting all bent out of shape for nothing!”

One more thing you should know about my dad: he just didn’t know how to accept the term, “no.” If we were in a restaurant and the waitress told him that they didn’t have any black and tans, my dad would raise hell until he either got what he wanted or until he got his meal for free. If I told dad no to going with him to the store when I was little because he was in one of his moods, he’d make me feel bad with his insults and then would make me go with him anyway.

“John,” my dad said, “I’m not going to yell or get angry at you for whatever you’ve been doing. You’re a man now! It’s all right!”

“Okay. Just do what you have to, I guess. But hurry, because I’ve got my Christmas gifts with me here.” I sighed in an attempt to calm my nerves.

I held my breath as I watched my dad move the mouse over to the icon and do the two-click combo. Would he begin typing in an address and see what I’d been doing? What would he do if he found out? Dad looked down at the keyboard and typed in the address he wanted, one letter at a time, occasionally looking up at the screen as he did so. The internet browser’s history dropped down and showed my dad all of the previous sites I’d been to. At that moment I hated technology with a passion. It was supposed to be beneficial to humankind, and here it was, causing me nothing but misery and making me edgy.

“Wait a minute, what’s this?” My dad moved the mouse over an online store site.

It just happened to be the site where I’d purchased the diapers. I swallowed the vomit and forced it back down my throat. His final click sounded more like a gunshot to my ears, and I felt my face burn.

Oh, shit…God, no…God! No!

I couldn’t see the look on dad’s face, but based on his silence, I knew he was either extremely confused or extremely pissed off. My legs grew weak as my father whispered, “What the hell…? John, what is this?”

Did I lie my way out of the situation, or did I come clean and admit to my father of what I really was? Though my legs felt like rubber, I forced myself to stand tall and clenched my fist as my blood pressure skyrocketed. The look on dad’s face and the look in his eyes…his eyes. They spoke horrible things so quietly yet they pierced my brain so loudly. This was it for me. I tried my best not to break down and cry in front of my father, and somehow I managed to keep a straight face.

“Jill asked me to try something for her.” I lied.

My dad’s faced turned red and he kept quiet for a seemingly eternal minute. I think he was just as speechless and nervous as I was.

“Well then why did you order so many?” he caught me.

Damn it!

“It doesn’t matter, dad. It’s my money.” I remained calm to the best of my ability.

“It does matter, John! There are some real freaks out there who are into this stuff!”

“I’m not a frea-I mean…they’re not-” I stumbled over my words like a drunkard stumbles to the ground after having too much to drink.

“Aha! I knew you were lying! Jesus…how do you think your mother would react to this?!” my dad began to raise his voice. “I mean seriously, John! How long have you been doing this?”

“A long time, dad! That’s how long! God, do you have to get so upset about it?”

“Yes! I do! This is fucking sick! There’s something not right in your head if you’re into this! This is…just wrong, John! It’s for freaks! Is that how you want to be seen?”

“Thanks for being so understanding, dad! I’m not a freak!”

“The hell you aren’t! I’d be a little upset if you were heavily into drinking or smoking cigarettes, but this? This is the stupidest, most appalling thing I’ve ever heard of! You’re making me sick to my fucking stomach.”

His yelling brought back my fears from when he used to yell so long ago. His eyes, so full of disgust and hatred, maybe not directly towards me, but towards my flaw, towards the one thing that I was born with against my will. My conscience became twisted and distorted, causing me to speak my words before I planned them out. My heart told me that there was no turning back and that I had to take a stand. Dad couldn’t hurt me again like he did so long ago; I wouldn’t let him.

“What’s going on up there? Why are you two shouting?” my mom called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Well, honey, your son is sick in the head, that’s what’s going on!” my dad shouted in the meanest way possible.

“Shut up! You treat me like I’m some sort of animal when I’m your fucking son! One would think you have more compassion towards your own blood, but no! You’re just as much of a jerk as you were five years ago! Looks like your fucking pills aren’t working anymore!”

“Get out of my face.” my dad snarled.

“This is how it’s gonna be? Is that it? You’re too disgusted to look at your own son? Your son who’s an above average student? Who’s a man? Is that it?” I felt the tears burn my eyes.

“I said get out.”

I grabbed all of the Christmas gifts I’d bought with a heavy feeling in my chest and said to my father just as I walked out of the room, “I can’t believe you…”

My mother saw the look on my face and asked me what was wrong, but I just shoved her off and slipped my sneakers off without saying a word.

“Jonathon!” my mother came over and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Talk to me! What happened?”

“I…I’m sorry mom. I’m sorry.” was all I could muster as I headed out the door.

“Jonathon, wait! We can talk this over with your father! It’s almost Christmas!”

“No, we can’t! You can go ahead and ask him what’s wrong with me! Go ahead! He’ll tell you what kind of freak I am!” I cried as I ran to my car.

I threw the gifts into my trunk and hopped into the driver’s seat. My hands trembled as I called Jill.

“Hey baby!” Jill said as soon as she picked up.

“Jill…I need to com-I need to-I-” I said between sobs.

“John?! Oh my God! What’s wrong?”

“I have-I have to come over! Something happened!”

“What happened John?” Jill’s sweet voice asked.

“My dad found out, Jill. He knows…” I cried harder. “…please-I’m on my way over!”

“You poor thing! Are you good to drive? You have to get a hold of yourself! I don’t want you to crash!”

“I’m okay. I-I’m okay. I’ll be there in a while.”

“Aww okay John! If you need me to come for you, I can!”

“No. No. I can’t stay here.”

“Okay! I’ll be here! Take your time, John! Just hang in there!”

“I will. Bye.”

I hung up the phone, started my car, and pulled out of the driveway all while sobbing and not looking back at the house. My father was in there, and I had no desire to see him. Not after what he’d said to me. Jill’s was the only place I wanted to be at that time, and am I ever glad that I went there that day.

Chapter Nineteen

The drive to Jill’s was full of sobs, tears, and hatred towards both my father and myself. My fears came alive and played out almost exactly as I’d imagined they would. The only difference was that I had the displeasure of feeling the negative emotions that came with them. Along with the negative emotions was a nauseous feeling in my stomach and a burning sensation in my eyes. They say that if you’re ever feeling any of these things that it’s not a good idea to drive, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and despite my stinging eyes and seemingly ailing heart, I pushed forward.

I had known it right from the start; my parents (or at least, my father) thought of me as a freak. His own flesh and blood seemed to be nothing short of a disgrace to the Morrow name. And who knew what my mom would do or say to me once she found out? The mere thought of it only brought me more sadness. My mind became fixated on Jill, and Jill’s love for me, and her understanding and compassion. It sounds a little paranoid, but at that time I didn’t think that there was anybody else who would come to accept me for who I was. If my own family couldn’t accept my flaw, then who other than Jill would?

By the time I reached Jill’s, my voice was raspy from the screaming and sobbing that I’d done on the way over and I thought that my eyes had shed every last tear. My legs grew weak when I got out of my car. The fatigue from the drive combined with the crippling effect my father’s reaction had on me made it nearly impossible for me to move.

“John, look at you! You poor thing!” Jill said with utmost sincerity as she came out onto the porch of her house to greet me.

Before I even reached the top step I fell to my knees and sobbed even harder than I had in the car. If only my father could’ve seen how hurt I was. Maybe he’d have shown some more compassion at the time, and maybe I wouldn’t have missed Christmas with my family that year. But, as they say, life happens, and everything in life happens for a reason, even if we can’t accept some of those things right away.

Jill held my head close to her chest and rubbed my back slowly on the cold concrete of her porch. She kept telling me that she loved me, and from the light shakes I felt from her body, I knew that she too was crying. This was the compassion that I longed for. This was how it should’ve been with my father. This was the moment that I still look back on every day and thank God for what He’s given me.

We slowly made our way inside to get out of the cold, snowy weather, and even though the inside of Jill’s house was warm and cozy, I still felt very cold, both physically and emotionally. My hands were like ice and my insides tingled as if they were covered in snow, and yet Jill told me that I felt hot to the touch.

Once I was able to gather my thoughts, I managed to tell Jill exactly what had happened. It didn’t take long before I blamed myself for the whole thing. Had I not been an idiot, then none of the events would’ve happened. Jill of course told me that it wasn’t my fault as she held me tight, but I sure as hell felt like it was. My name would be dragged through a special kind of dirt that couldn’t be rinsed off no matter how hard I tried to wash it off. Dad would tell the whole family, then my friends when they asked about me. Why was he so mad, though?

“Oh, John! Listen to me,” Jill said quietly, “no matter what anybody else thinks of you, just know that I love you.”

“But will my family? I can’t see them loving some freak, as my dad so kindly put it. He’s going to tell them all, and then they’re going to think poorly of me,” I rambled as my breaths grew short, “and they won’t talk to me anymore-”

“John…”

“-they won’t even care if I get sick, or if I’m hurt in a car accident, or-”

“John, please! Take it easy! You’re starting to hyperventilate! Breathe! Breathe slowly! Calm down!” Jill placed her left hand over my chest and her right index finger over my mouth as if to hush and calm me.

It worked to an extent; physically I managed to get a hold of myself. Mentally, however, I was a train wreck. My brain was swarmed with more and more fears and negative thoughts, and somehow Jill knew. She had me lie on the couch and placed my head against her chest, then gently scratched my head and brushed her fingers across my face. It was one of the most soothing feelings I’d experienced (aside from being babied, of course). Jill continued to do this for God knows how long until I felt somewhat relieved.

I kept quiet for the rest of the night. We watched television for a bit, and I didn’t laugh or smile, or even really care for that matter. Jill bought Chinese for dinner since she knew it was my favorite, but I could only nibble on the sesame chicken, as I’d lost my appetite. Even the piping hot egg roll didn’t look or sound as appealing as it usually did.

Bedtime arrived, and I could tell by the look on Jill’s face that she felt really sorry for me. We both got dressed and I dragged myself over to her bed to lie down. She soon followed and placed her arms around me.

“Are you going to be able to sleep, baby?” Jill asked sincerely.

“I hope so.”

There was a short time of silence, and then Jill asked, “Would babying you help at all?”

Being babied seemed to be the cure-all for almost any problem I had. If I got too stressed from work or college, Jill would make me feel like the most helpless infant on the planet. She’d feed me, burp me, gently change my diaper, and would talk sweetly to me until I melted in her arms. She enjoyed making me feel amazing, and she always made sure to give it her best. Not once did I ever say no when she’d ask, as I knew it was fun for the both of us. But there’s a first time for everything.

“Maybe another time.”

That’s how bad I felt. I wasn’t even interested in one of the things that made me feel like I was in heaven. The thought that it might’ve helped to ease my pain didn’t even cross my mind. This shocked Jill, but after she asked if I was sure and I said no, she didn’t push for it. Instead, she snuggled up next to me and slept softly as I stared at the wall and cursed myself for being born.

The next few days continued on this way. I’d eat half of what I normally did, shuffle around the house, and go to work with a straight face. My father’s words rang clearly in my ears whenever I’d think about the incident, and it’d just delve me deeper into a state of sadness and self-loathing. My mom had called and left voicemails at least twice a day, each one starting off with the same old, “How are you doing? I hope all is okay!” and then ending with some sort of request to come back home since Christmas was only a week away. With my father around, however, I didn’t want anything to do with home. Jill’s house was the only home I felt safe in at that time. If my family wanted me to come home so bad, my father would’ve called me to talk and apologize. His failure to call me resulted in my very first Christmas without my family. Their gifts were all wrapped, including one for my father, but they weren’t opened by the Christmas tree that year. It would be another three weeks before we rebuilt the bridge. It doesn’t sound like a long time, but a lot can happen in three weeks…

[CDfm]

What a roller coaster of emotion this story is. What a completely lost feeling John must be experiencing with his fathers reaction. Even though I am medically incontinent and have Doctors advising me to use incontinent briefs (Diapers) I have not told my parents that I use them. They probably have an idea I do but nothing has or will be said about it. I know my kids know and I simply told them that it’s medically necessary and didn’t elaborate. I was impressed with all the new chapters coming out so fast. I would have loved to give this a like but I ran out for the day. 

[Dr_J]

Thanks again for your kind words and for reading this again. I know it's a lot to take in, but this was written keeping the humanistic element in mind. The struggles, the pain, the joys, the love. Here are Chapters 20 and 21:

Chapter 20

Christmas time was usually a time I looked forward to every year. Family gatherings, phone calls to my near-deaf grandparents and other relatives, and of course, seeing the reaction on the faces of everyone who I’d bought gifts for. That particular Christmas wasn’t as good, but I must admit that Jill helped to make it bearable.

She loved the lingerie I bought for her, and in return she gave me a brand new brown leather jacket. This thing was the real deal; that distinctive smell, the smooth feel of the texture, the somewhat squeaky sound that came out with every slight movement of my arms. This wasn’t your ordinary “pleather” that you could get from some top dog supermarket. No, this leather jacket was made of top-notch quality materials and probably cost Jill a fortune to buy. That brought a smile to my face that day, and it was the first smile I’d given in almost a week. But it didn’t end there.

We exchanged more and more little gifts, ranging from jewelry to new clothes. Then, there was the little white box. Jill didn’t have it under the Christmas tree; instead, she had placed it in her pajama pants pocket. The box was tiny enough to fit a ring in, but that’s not what it was.

“I figured you might like this, John.” Jill said sweetly as she kissed me.

The Christmas music played softly in the background, and the lights from the tree lightly reflected off of the little white box. I wanted to shake it, but Jill told me to just open it and look inside. Within moments, the box was opened and I saw a little piece of paper inside. The piece of paper simply said in Jill’s lovely handwriting, “Do you know what time it is?” with a really bad drawing of somebody (who I assumed was supposed to be me) pointing to their watch.

“What is this?” I chuckled as I picked up the paper.

“Just open it and look!”

I was reluctant at first, but I carefully opened the paper and made sure that it didn’t get ripped or ruined in any way. Inside of the letter was a similar bad drawing of a guy with his mouth wide open and his arms spread out, and coming from his watch was a dialogue bubble that simply said in large but still neatly written letters, “It’s baby time!”

“Babe, this is-” I said to Jill with a smile.

“It’s alright, John,” Jill said, “I know you’ve had a horrible week, and I know you’re a bit reluctant to do this again, but I really want to do this for you and see if it helps make you feel any better. I want you to completely forget everything that’s happened for just a few hours and let mommy take care of her baby.”

I rubbed the back of my head in uncertainty. The thought of dad yelling at me really made me edgy when it came to wanting to be babied. Then again, it’d been a while since we last partook in one of our sessions (not to mention this was a Christmas gift).

“Please, baby?” Jill cooed and pleaded. “Think of it as a mutual gift! You get what you want and can relax while I can take care of my baby!”

Still uncertain, I swallowed my doubt and agreed to indulge Jill and allow her to indulge me. Jill took me by the hand and led me up to the nursery, where she had me lie down on a baby blanket on the floor and gently placed a pacifier in my mouth. I figured she’d just start right up with changing me into a diaper, but I was wrong. Instead, Jill removed my shirt and pants, and then started rubbing my stomach with her hands in such a gentle, kind way that I could feel the goose bumps form beneath her palms. Out of every goose bump escaped all of the problems and worries that had ravaged my life over the past several days. She wasn’t finished there, though. She moved up so that she was beside my chest, and while one hand remained on my stomach, the other was used to gently scratch my head. These two calming feelings combined nearly sent me into a hypnotic state of ultimate serenity. Mind you we hadn’t even gotten to the babying at that point!

“That’s it, my baby. Look at that smile!” Jill giggled lightly as she continued.

It didn’t take long for me to feel like the most careless person in the world, and before I knew it, Jill had a diaper, wipes, and powder in hand and was ready to make me her infant. She seemed to want to baby me more than usual that day, but I think it was because she knew what I’d been going through with my dad. When I was being changed into the diaper, Jill talked to me like I was an infant even more than she usually did, if you can believe that. She took some extra time during the diaper change, and when she had me in my proper attire, she pulled me towards her until I was in a sitting position on her lap and rocked me while patting my back. As usual, Jill fed me a bottle, burped me, and then allowed me to rest my head on her shoulder. I don’t think I could’ve thought about anything negative if I tried. My mind had been completely consumed in the moment. This carried on for the rest of the morning, and for the first time in a week, I didn’t feel one ounce of sadness. I guess you could say that it was perfect timing since it happened on Christmas day, and quite frankly I don’t think it could’ve happened on a better day.

After our babying session, Jill and I showered and prepared the food for our Christmas dinner. Some old holiday tunes from the 1960s played quietly in the background as we peeled potatoes, cut up vegetables, and covered the ham with light cinnamon and honey before placing it in the oven. We danced to the music (horribly, I might add) with smiles on our faces and exchanged kisses as the preparations were made. I felt my pocket vibrate and almost immediately picked up my phone to see who was trying to call me. It was my mom.

“What is it, John?” Jill asked.

“It’s my mom.”

Did she know? Did dad tell her about me? Was she mad? She was calling on Christmas, so she couldn’t be too mad, could she? Maybe it was my dad calling from my mom’s phone? I was hesitant to answer it as it vibrated once more. Still, even with my reluctance, I picked up the phone.

“H-hello?” I asked weakly.

“Merry Christmas, Jonathon!” my mother said on the other line.

Her voice sounded like nothing was wrong, though I knew she was probably upset because I didn’t call or come home for the holiday.

“Thanks mom. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

We went on to talk about things just as if I’d been away to school. She asked me what I got for Christmas and what Jill and I were having for dinner; the usual stuff you talk about with your mom on the phone during the holidays. Still, the conversation felt distant. Moments of awkward silence took over a good majority of our conversation. That is, until mom asked, “So how are you holding up?”

That was the question I’d been waiting for her to ask me, though I didn’t really want to have to answer it. Surely dad had told her by then.

“I’m okay,” I responded, “Jill’s been keeping me sane.”

“That’s good, honey.”

Another moment of awkward silence passed through the conversation. Did she or did she not know of my secret? I had to know!

“Did dad tell you anything?” I asked bluntly.

Yet another pause, and then, “Yes.”

What could I say to that question? Think about it. Your parents find out that you, a 21-year-old adult, like to be babied and wear diapers (well, as far as they knew, I just liked wearing diapers). What on Earth do you say? I know when I first wanted to learn more about my infantilism I’d read a bunch of fictional stories about situations similar to the one I was in, but they were exactly what they’re called: fiction. My parents wouldn’t force me into a life of babyhood and hire my girlfriend to baby-sit me and make me drop out of college so they could have their baby boy back. I wouldn’t be diaper-bound 24/7 and would have random people who I’d been mean to in the past give me the humiliation I deserved. That “yes” wasn’t a work of fiction or some teenager’s sexual fantasy; it was the real, true life thing. That “yes” made my heart pound and my stress and anxiety levels skyrocket. That “yes” only allowed an “I’m sorry” to escape my lips, followed by cries and tears.

Chapter 21

“I’ve known for so long, mom, and I had to keep it to myself out of fear that something like this would happen!”

“I understand, honey. I still love you the same.” mom spoke softly on the phone.

“You don’t understand! You didn’t see how dad looked at me when he found out! He thought I was nothing more than a freak! The things he said and the way he said them…he hasn’t even made an effort to call me and talk!”

“It’s your father we’re talking about, Jonathon. You and I both know how he used to get and how he still gets sometimes. Plus, that was a bit of a shock for both of us. We never knew!”

Not once did my mom raise her voice. Instead, she talked calmly and quietly. That’s what I love about my mom. I can tell her just about anything without her thinking any differently of me. She might yell at me if I tell her I went out drinking or something, but she has never and will probably never think any less of me for who I am or what I do.

“Well of course you wouldn’t know! I had to hide this from you, from dad…from everyone, out of fear of what you would say and think! Especially dad! And besides, I don’t really feel like this is something that you needed to know!”

“Come now, John. You’re our son and we love you. Nothing’s going to change that.”

“You mean to say that you’re not freaked out at all about this?” I asked in disbelief.

“I’m not necessarily ‘freaked out.’ I am a bit concerned for you, though. You say you’ve known about this for so long, and yet you never sought help for working around it.”

Working around it? Did she think this was some kind of problem that I could just go to a shrink for and have removed from my life?

“There’s nothing to work around.”

“John, you’re clearly upset about this. Your father and I think it might be a good idea if you went through some counseling or therapy.”

There it was. Just what I was looking for. “Your father and I…” was a sentence that implied my mother was against me. At least that’s what I’d thought at the time.

“You’re taking dad’s side?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No! You know what? To hell with it! You don’t even know what I went through every damned day of my life! How afraid I was of being sent away to some crazy house if you and dad found out, or being completely humiliated in high school if any of the other students ever knew! I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t wake up one day and decide that I wanted to be this way! I did, however, finally choose to accept who I am! You think God gave me this for shits and giggles?”

“It doesn’t exactly go with our Christian values, John. Maybe some counseling would be good for you. I’m not saying you have to go, I’m just saying that it might help you get through this.”

The religion card. My parents made me go to church every Sunday morning. While most of my friends got to sleep in late and play football on Sundays, I was stuck in a congregation of fanatics from anywhere between two to three hours. It didn’t matter how ill I felt or how much I begged my parents to not go. I remember I’d warned them when I was younger that the more they made me go, the more likely I was to turn away from going to church when I got older. I was right. Though I did (and still do) believe in God, I don’t take the whole church-going thing as seriously as I once did, nor did I (or still do) think that being an infantilist was ungodly in any way. Hey, they say God puts people on Earth while being well aware of how they’re going to turn out. If I was put on the planet as an infantilist, then His will be done.

I shared my opinion with my mother, who I could tell was rather unhappy with my feeling.

“Oh, Jonathon,” my mother sighed in a way that practically screamed, “I give up!”

“Some kid you raised, eh?” I said in an effort to lighten the mood, as it was Christmas and all.

“I guess so!” my mother chuckled. “But seriously, John, we do love you, and I’d really like to be able to see you sometime this week. You’ve got some presents here that you need to open.”

“Yeah, I bought you and dad presents, too. I-is dad alright with me coming home yet?”

“Well…”

A long pause ensued. A long pause that told me that my mother wanted to tell me that my father had cooled off, but she knew that she’d be lying if she did.

“Look, if dad isn’t on speaking terms with me, then I don’t want to see him.” I said bluntly.

“But I’d still like to see you.” my mother said kindly.

“If there’s a day that dad’s at work or not around, then I’d be more than happy to come home.”

The silence on the other end told me that my mother wasn’t happy about the way both my father and I handled the situation, but until I received an apology and was allowed to explain myself, I didn’t want anything to do with him. After a bit of hesitation, my mother and I agreed on me coming home to visit the Tuesday after Christmas so we could talk and exchange presents. An “I love you” and an “I love you, too” later, we finally hung up the phone.

“Is everything okay, John?” Jill asked kindly.

I simply nodded, for at that moment, aside from my father and me not being on speaking terms, everything was okay. Jill and I proceeded to prepare and enjoy our Christmas dinner. Like a dream, I soon thought nothing of the phone conversation with my mother…for a time, that is. I didn’t want to let it ruin the best holiday of the year or my time with Jill. I believe Jill knew that I didn’t want to think about it, because as soon as we were done with dinner, we went into the living room, turned on the television, and held each other for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

The Tuesday morning after Christmas. I remember so much about that day, and yet at the same time I don’t. I know it sounds odd, but that’s the best way to describe it. I remember I was running late to my mom’s. My alarm didn’t go off because I’d accidentally set it to “PM” instead of “AM.” Jill had left early for work, and my mom never called me to ask where I was, most likely because she runs late almost every single time she has somewhere to be.

I remember my shower not being as relaxing as it should’ve been. The water was warm and all, but the only thing on my mind was that I was late. Just the thought of being late made me tick. My father taught me to always show up early and to never be late, while my mother seemed to run on her own time zone. Thankfully, I’d chosen to follow my father’s lessons.

The freezing rain coated everything outside in a sheet of ice, including my car, which made me run even later. The swear words that came out of my mouth that morning would’ve been enough to make my grandmother roll in her grave. I’d gotten most of the ice off of my car and started it up. The ice on the ground made it hard to walk, but I simply overlooked that minor detail…a minor detail that would be the cause of a major problem.

After I started my car, I had remembered that there was one more gift for my mother in the house. I remember I went back inside to get it as I swore to myself, and hurriedly made my way back towards my car. Everything kind of slowed down then. I saw my mother’s gift being launched into the air, and I heard a loud cracking sound followed by an intense amount of pain that radiated from the back of my head.

I now had a worm’s eye view of the house and of my car, both of which violently blurred in and out of my field of vision. Have you ever landed so hard that you felt the taste of blood in your mouth, even though you weren’t bleeding from your mouth at all? That’s the taste that entered my mouth. Warmth spread across the back of my head, but quickly grew cold from the freezing rain. What had happened? I was in so much pain that I could barely get my fingers up to the back of my head to check for any injuries. When I managed to feel around, I could instantly tell that I’d received a large gash on the back of my head. My surroundings spun about me as I frantically reached for my phone in my left pocket.

I don’t remember who I called, but Jill later told me that I had dialed her number. The only thing I remember is that I pressed some buttons and hit “Send.” 911 wasn’t even in my thought process at that time, mostly because I was so disoriented.

“Jill…I fell…” is all I remember saying.

My car purred loudly as I tried to get up. Where was everyone? Why didn’t anyone else have a four-week vacation? Would no one help me? So many houses on the road, and yet nobody was home. I had to get out of the rain before I caught pneumonia, but my body would not let me move. For once I was helpless and had nobody to take care of me. Everything faded in and out. A loud howling, wailing sound echoed in my ears. Either the sound was that of an ambulance or the screams of death coming to make Jill’s front lawn my resting place.

That’s all I remember before I blacked out, and for the first time in my life, I truly thought I was going to die.

[Eagle0769]

Another chapter so soon. I think I died and went to heaven.

I love your writing it's so detailed even the little things you put

in make the story so real.

I hope he is not badly hurt but we all know that if his father

really loves him he will be with his mother when they go

to the hospital.

[CDfm]

I liked the two new chapters. I don’t expect dad to come around, at least for a lengthy period of time. I think that mom is going to need to work on dad some. While I don’t think it would actually make a difference, I think that if John was to go to counseling it would show his parents that he was at least putting in an effort to rid himself of these desires. I was recently reading some of Michael Bent’s book on infantilism and I was surprised at how deep these feelings actually go. I was also very surprised to learn that the majority of AB/DL’s are incontinant. And that people such as myself who became incontinent and didn’t have any AB/DL desires will likely develop some. I believe there is some truth to that because I discovered the AB/DL community looking for better incontinence products and then stuck around because it seemed like a way to cope with my need of diapers. I still wouldn’t say I have a strong AB/DL side to me but I have come to much better accept my need for diapers. Diapers are definitely not a fetish thing for me but I can appreciate the comfort and security a fresh diaper offers. I tried to give this a like but I apparently ran out again. 

[Dr_J]

Thank you again for the feedback! Here are the next 2 chapters!

Chapter 22

“Is he going to be all right, doctor?”

“The injury he sustained gave him a concussion, but miraculously he didn’t suffer any brain damage. However, the pneumonia is another story. Your son was unconscious in the cold weather for an extended period of time. While he will without a doubt recover, it will take time. We’re talking at least a month and a half.”

“Jesus.”

Doctor? Where was I and why was everything black? And why did my chest feel like it was filled with liquid? Was that my father’s voice?

“What’s he going to do about school?”

“Attending school at this point in time is out of the question. He’ll be prone to other infections and illnesses if he goes, and quite honestly, I don’t know if he’d have the strength to go.”

Was the doctor God? Did he just decide my life for me? I couldn’t just sit in darkness; I had to open my eyes!

Come on, John. Slowly…a little at a time…my eyes feel like they weigh a ton…

I could see my feet at the end of what appeared to be a bed. A monotonous beeping sound came into my field of hearing, and two figures stood to my left, one in a white coat, and the other in dark blue carpenter jeans. I could only take slow, deep breaths for some reason, and the sound of mucus could be heard from inside of my body. For some reason, however, I wasn’t in any pain.

“Jonathon?! You’re awake!” the voice of my mother cried.

I looked to my right to see her standing there with a warm smile on her face. Ears welled up in her eyes as she grabbed my hand with hers. And still, I couldn’t remember what had happened. The doctor must have seen the confused look on my face, because he began to explain why I was in the hospital.

“Hello, Jonathon. I’m Dr. Strauss. I’m actually surprised to see you awake, especially after the painkillers and antibiotics we gave you.”

“What…happened?” I asked slowly as I continued to look around.

“You were found outside in front of your girlfriend’s house unconscious with a large gash on the back of your head…”

I no longer paid attention to the doctor, as the sight of my dad immediately made me lose focus. Why was he here? He didn’t look angry, but I could see the look of concern on his face.

“…pneumonia…need your rest…not attend school this semester…”

That got my attention.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s highly advised that you don’t attend classes this semester, John. You need to rest for at least a month, and with all of the illnesses that come and go, you’d be more prone to becoming ill.” the doctor explained. “Bed rest will allow you to get better quickly.”

“Like hell it will. If I don’t go to school this semester, it’ll throw off my graduation date.” I argued. “I have another two and a half weeks before school starts up again. That will be plenty of time for me to rest.”

“But the risk of contracting another illness-”

“-They have a Wellness Center at college.”

“Jonathon, honey, maybe you should listen to the doctor.” my mother said gently.

“I’ll be fine, mom. I’m not going to let this ruin my life plans.”

My mother and I both looked over to my father, who waited for just a few moments before he said, “Let him see how he feels by the time school starts. I’m sure he’ll be able to tell if he’s ready.”

A certain distance could be heard in my father’s voice, almost as if he’d decided to keep me at arm’s length. It didn’t matter what types of medicine and painkillers I was on; I could sense the widened gap. Still, I suppose he did care enough to at least come see me.

“Well, you will at least have to rest up here for a day or two. If you’ll excuse me, I have some other patients to attend to.”

And with that, the doctor exited the room, leaving me with my parents. I was speechless at first, mostly because dad was in the room and I didn’t know if he was still upset about what had happened. I felt if I’d said anything to them, then somehow my infantilism would wind up being brought up. That’s how awkward I felt.

“Where’s Jill?” I asked quietly.

“She’s in the gift shop. I should probably see if she needs help bringing anything up to you.” my mother said with a smile.

Right on cue, she hugged me lightly and then left the room. I believed I was set up to be left alone with my father, but not without good reason.

Oh, this is just great. Leave me in the room with the man who thinks I’m nothing but a freak. That’ll make me feel better real soon.

I could barely look my father in the eye, and only the quiet but rhythmic beeping of the machine next to my hospital bed stopped the room from becoming silent. He knew, too. He knew I held his words close and that I would not forget them so easily.

And I knew. I knew he felt guilty for what he’d said, but he was as stubborn as my grandfather, so an outright apology would have been unheard of. I was about to tell my father that I felt tired from the meds and that I needed to rest when he finally spoke.

“You nearly scared the living hell out of me and your mother, you know.” he said with the slightest of chuckles. “It’s good to see you’re going to be okay, though.”

“Yeah, nothing like a cracked open head and pneumonia to spice up my vacation.” I said without looking my father in the eye.

This got a laugh out of both of us and just slightly thinned the air in the room. However, more silence quickly followed the laughter. Then, he spoke again.

“Look, John, I…” my dad said hesitantly, “…I’m not sure how to put this.”

“All’s I asked for was a little privacy to protect myself.” I stopped him short.

“I know, and I should have respected your privacy. But you should be aware that I…”

Was he an infantilist, too? No way! He couldn’t have been…could he?

“…I kind of knew about you already.”

My jaw dropped faster than my heart. He knew? Impossible! I’d considered myself a master of keeping my infantilist side to myself for all those years, and not once did anyone ever know or even suspect anything. Not to my knowledge, anyway.

“When did you find out?” I asked with a trace of shame in my voice.

“Jeez, it must have been…four, five years ago? But I wasn’t 100 percent positive at the time. I remember you were outside doing some yard work and I wanted to check my email. Of course, your crazy mother was using the computer downstairs, so I used yours. I…saw some sites in your browser, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. I figured it was just a passing phase, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if you were really a…whatever it is that they call people like you. There were a few other times when I’d gone in to use your computer and noticed that you had been erasing your browser’s history. I knew you were hiding something, but I didn’t want to accept what it was that you were hiding. Then, a few weeks ago…well, you know what happened.” he explained.

I was shocked, to say the least. Had he really seen through my thought-to-be flawless plan? I didn’t know what to say right away. I mean, what would you do if you had a dark secret that you were so sure nobody else knew about, only to find out that someone in fact knew after all?

“You knew this whole time and never once approached me about it?”

“I…no. I couldn’t accept it, John. I didn’t want to believe that my own flesh and blood was into that kind of thing. I didn’t know how to approach the subject or what to say, so I just kept hoping that you’d grow out of it.”

Another thing you should know about my father: he is very old-fashioned. To him, men were supposed to be upstanding citizens and go fishing and mow grass. They weren’t supposed to be artists, or gay, or infantilists, or anything else “out of the norm.” Although I knew this about my father, his response still made me upset. He should’ve accepted me. People are born into this world with flaws (or at least what they think might be flaws), even if some of those flaws are not immediately present. My father’s major flaw is that he’s bipolar, and my mother and I managed to accept him. My “flaw” is that I like to be babied sometimes. Something so relatively harmless and he couldn’t even accept that.

“Well, I didn’t grow out of it. There were times when I wanted to and when I almost went insane trying to figure out why I am what I am, but I’ve accepted it now. After years of researching and finding others like me, and finding Jill, I fully accept who I am. I always feared the day you and mom would find out because I knew…I knew you would react the way you did.”

The monitor next to my bed beeped just a little more quickly and only added more thickness to the air in the room.

“I know, John, and I’m sorry. I should’ve just ignored what I saw.” my father said apologetically.

“It isn’t a matter of what you should or shouldn’t have seen, dad. It’s a matter of what you should or shouldn’t have said.”

The meds made me feel less fearful, or so it seemed. The monitor’s beeping revealed my fear, but I don’t think my father paid any attention to it. I on the other hand knew I was afraid, but I used my father’s pity on me for being injured to my advantage. He had to know how I felt, and in that hospital room was the perfect place to do it.

“You made me feel like such a freak. I mean, is that what you really think I am? People have problems, and they have to learn to cope with them. Your bipolar disorder can be coped with through counseling and pills. My ‘problem’ is fixed by acknowledging my tendencies. I’ve found a way to fix it, and somehow that makes me sick in the head.”

I refused to let myself cry in front of my father over this, though that was easier said than done. I had to bite the inside of my right cheek to avert my attention.

“What do you want me to say other than ‘I’m sorry’, John? I was angry, confused, upset! I wanted to be able to sit down and talk to you about it, but I knew I’d get like this if I tried.”

“Maybe you can tell me that you’ll be able to look past this whole mess, or that you still love me. Maybe you can look me in the eye without any shame.”

Here came the moment of truth. I was about to find out how dad really felt about me simply by the tone of his voice.

“Well, I still love you.” he said with a clear and present distance in his voice.

“…but I can’t look past this, John. You’re still a freak.” Right, dad?

My father was about to say some more when Jill and my mom entered the room. He never finished his train of thought, but instead managed to put on a fake smile as if everything was okay, just like he used to when he snapped at me years before. He never said that I was still his son, nor did he say that he’d be able to get over my infantilism, but he didn’t have to. The shame in his eyes looked at me as if to say, “I will never look at you the same.” The bridge wasn’t burnt, but it was still in dire need of repair before either of us could cross it. And it hurt…and it still hurts.

Chapter 23

Three days in the hospital was all it took before I was ready to leave, although the doctor was a bit hesitant to release me. Sitting in a hospital bed to get better as opposed to sitting in Jill’s bed to get better didn’t make much of a difference to me. After all, I was given my antibiotics and instructions to get better. That was all I needed.

Mom, dad, and the doctor still insisted that I take the semester off to get better, but I knew what would happen if I did that. I’d get caught up in a job, and by the time the fall semester rolled around, I’d lose interest in returning to college. I had to at least make an effort, and since I was on good terms with most of the instructors in my field, I was sure they’d cut me some slack.

Despite the numerous offers my parents made to stay with them until I recuperated, I still chose to stay with Jill for two reasons: the first being that I was instructed to rest in bed for at least a couple of weeks, which would’ve meant that had I stayed with my parents, there’d have been no way for me to see her, and the second being that I didn’t want to stay in the same house as my father. Time had to tell whether we’d make amends, but until the outcome revealed itself, I wanted as little to do with him as possible. That is, at least until my emotional wounds mended.

The smell of Jill’s house, that combination of cinnamon and fabric softener, was far better than the smell of antiseptics and latex. As a matter of fact, everything about Jill’s house was better than the hospital. The bed was more comfortable, the food didn’t taste like crap, and I was with my girlfriend the entire time I recovered! And let me tell you, Jill really took taking care of me seriously. When she wasn’t working, she waited on me hand and foot to make sure that I only had to get up when absolutely necessary. She also babied me on a weekly basis, which included baths and being fed meals in the bedroom. If I ever become old and decrepit and am required to remain in bed for extended periods of time, I’m making sure I get the same exact treatment. Being babied not only made me happy, but I also think it contributed to a speedy recovery.

By the end of the third week, I’d felt a hundred times better than I did when I first left the hospital. Classes started only a few days later, and I’d managed to walk around the house when Jill wasn’t around to practice for when I was back in school. Two of my courses were online, so I only had to be inside of a classroom on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The rest of my time would be spent in my dorm so I could rest up and make a full recovery. I’d even talked to my professors about my situation. Both completely understood and offered me three extra days of absence if I needed them.

When moving day arrived, Jill helped me pack what little I had into my car and my mother had agreed to meet me at my dorm to help me set up base and unpack some of my things. An hour and half later, we arrived at college and got my things to my room. My mom of course showed up late, but she made up for it with a massive stock of chicken noodle soup and a new feather quilt. Since I’d left most of my things in my dorm during winter break, it didn’t take long for me to settle back in, and surprisingly it only took my mom asking me twice if I was sure I didn’t want to take the semester off before she gave up. I remember she reluctantly left that day, almost as if she’d felt I was making a huge mistake. I didn’t let it get to me, though.

Jill, on the other hand, asked if she could stay with me that night. HIT’s spring semester was always set up so students could either return on the Saturday or Sunday before classes started, and so Martin Luther King Day fell on the first Monday of the semester. It sounds odd, but hey, it worked. None of my roommates had shown up yet, so Jill and I had the place to ourselves. Nothing beats a wintry afternoon in a cozy living room with the woman you love, especially when you’re still recovering from an illness.

She gave me the special treatment that afternoon. The only time I moved from the couch was to go to the bathroom. Jill cooked me soup when I felt hungry, ran her fingers through my hair while we watched a movie, and cuddled up close when I felt cold. And, of course, she babied me. After all, we wouldn’t get to see each other as often with college starting. I was just glad I’d be finished in another year and a half. Maybe it was the illness, but I really got tired of college. Still, I knew I couldn’t slack off just yet. The finish line was getting closer, and there was no time to futz around.

My lovely girlfriend babied me exceptionally more than usual that night. She took an extra long time with the diaper changes, baby-talked my ear off, and fed me nice and slow. I think it might’ve been because we wouldn’t be able to see each other as much, what with school and all.

The night ended almost as soon as it arrived. It was a sad moment for both Jill and I. Until I recovered, I wouldn’t be able to drive back and forth to see her, and with her varying work schedule, there was no guarantee that she’d be able to visit every weekend. We were both stuck between a rock and a hard place with no room to budge. The only way out was to work together, and that’s exactly what we did. We talked on the phone every few days to avoid the dreaded silence and boredom of a once-a-day phone call. When Jill missed me, she’d send me a video message or we’d simply use our webcams to see each other. It was these things that gave us just enough room to get out of the rut we were in.

By the beginning of February, I felt normal again, with the exception of my voice still sounding a bit gruff. I could take full breaths without my lungs hurting, I wasn’t coughing up anything nasty, and the antibiotics I was given were all used up. Even the doctor was surprised when I made a second visit so he could see how I was holding up. The urge to point in his face and say, “You were wrong!” was almost overwhelming, but I managed to keep my mouth shut. My speedy recovery enabled me to get back on track with sitting in on classes and visiting Jill.

Despite these positive outcomes, my heart didn’t feel right with what had happened between me and my father. Any time I thought about him, flashbacks of him finding out and our conversation in the hospital ripped through my brain. The reality of the scene didn’t dissipate, either. In fact, each time felt exactly as it had the first time. To add to the heartache, my father had stopped sending me funny emails and giving me phone calls to see how I was doing. The only time we did talk was when I called home every other week, but it wasn’t the same. I could still hear the dissatisfaction and shame in his voice, as if the whole thing had happened the day before. In most cases, Earth-shattering, life-changing news like this would’ve blown over after a while. Judging the way my father reacted and how he continued to show no compassion, no matter how strong the wind, this would not blow over.

Easter, junior year. No matter what I tried and still try, that particular holiday could not and cannot be forgotten. The tension, the anger, the depression, all spread across that day. To this day, I still wish I wouldn’t have gone to my parents’ house, even though it may not have changed much of what happened.

My mother had called me the Friday before, inviting me and Jill to an Easter lunch. Of course my father would be there, and it’d be the first time I saw him since the hospital. I was reluctant at first, but Jill told me that I should be the bigger person and go, just to show my father that I still cared. It took some convincing, but I finally caved. Spring break fell on the week of Easter Sunday, so I planned on staying with Jill. A few hours at my parents’ place couldn’t have been that bad.

So we went. Jill and I showed up just a little before noon. My plan was to leave no later than four. It’d have been enough time for me to catch up with my mom and enjoy dinner.

Mom and dad’s house smelled of fresh-baked honey ham, mashed potatoes, garlic, and other aromas that made my stomach growl. Home-cooked meals were something I sorely missed while I was at school. The freshness of the ingredients, the time devoted to preparing the food, and the love put into the entire operation just made it taste a million times better than the crap they served at college.

On the coffee table in the living room were two Easter baskets; one for me, and one for Jill. Each was filled with a variety of chocolates, jelly beans, and truffles. That’s my mom for you. It doesn’t matter how old I get. She will always make sure I get an Easter basket.

The house felt cozy, but I could feel a slight thickness in the air, as if I were given some kind of sixth sense. Something was going to happen…a premonition, if you will. My mother hugged and greeted us with a warm smile, but soon returned to the kitchen to make sure everything was going according to plan. Jill also jumped into action, leaving me to find my father. I knew where he was; in the living room watching some crappy sports show. That was his Sunday afternoon ritual. Before and after lunch, he’d watch anything and everything he could find related to sports. I never grew an interest in it, though.

The air felt thicker, almost fog-like, as I entered the living room. There sat my father in his brown leather recliner, his feet up like he’d just finished a hard day’s work, and his eyes glued to the television.

“Hi, dad.” I said quietly.

“Hello, John.” he replied without making an effort to get up.

I waited a solid minute to see whether he’d stand up to give me a hug, or even a handshake, but no. He stayed in his seat.

“Happy Easter.”

“Yeap.”

It quickly felt like a losing battle. No eye contact, no sense of caring, nothing. Just a stupid man in his stupid chair, watching his stupid sports. Still, I refused to give up. I sat on the couch and thought of more things to say.

“School’s going good. Just a few more weeks and I’m off for the summer.”

He nodded and simply said, “That’s good.”

Ever had an awkward conversation with someone before? Like someone you met for the first time, thinking to yourself, “Hey, this person might not be so bad,” but then quickly feeling discomfort after the first five minutes of talking? Yeah. That’s what this felt like. With my dad, mind you. My own father. The same father who used to talk to me about politics and conspiracy theories for hours on end. The same father who’d take me out fishing on the weekends, or come to my lame middle school chorus concerts. The same father who’d given me a letter that said he loved me when I first went away to college.

“I even took a few weeks off in the summer from my job so Jill and I can go on vacation. We’re planning on heading to Florida.”

“Sounds like it could be fun.”

No jokes about partying too hard or smoking marijuana. No asking if he could come. Just a blank stare and another nod.

Look at me, dad…fucking look at me!

I couldn’t take much more. My heart felt weak and I could feel my throat swell up, as if it did its best to hold back a booming cry of anguish. Thankfully, my mother came into the room and told us that lunch was ready. She could tell by the look on my face that I was rather upset. Her eyes held sorrow and sympathy, but her mouth didn’t release them. I believe it was out of fear that she would cause a scene.

I shuffled into the kitchen, where Jill sat. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow; a silent way of asking how things were going between me and my father. I simply shook my head and sat down next to her. Our little round table rarely ever had a fourth person sitting at it, and that made it hard to find room for all of the food. Still, we somehow managed to make it work. My mother sat next to Jill, leaving me to sit next to my father. I could tell dinner was going to be just great.

Even with all of the effort put into making the meal, the food was tasteless in my mouth. I brooded over my father’s lack of understanding and effort to make amends. Jill and my mother seemed to be prepared for this, as they soon brought up subjects to try to keep everyone in good spirits.

“So, Mr. Morrows, how’s your job?” Jill asked my father.

“Fine. Busy as usual.” was his only response.

“John’s father has been working almost too hard lately. They keep making him stay late and come in early.” mom explained.

“You’d think with them knowing you and you working for them for so long, they’d cut you a little slack.” I said towards my father.

The statement was really aimed towards the tension he and I had. I wanted to see how he’d react.

“Maybe they don’t like certain things about me.”

I bated my breath and felt the steam build up in my body. This battle had just turned into a war. Jill once again jumped in to try to stop anything from happening. She squeezed my hand and rubbed it with her thumb to try and relax me.

“D-did John tell you we’re planning on going to Florida on vacation?” she asked.

“Sure did.”

Even towards Jill, my father seemed cold. Perhaps he was upset about the fact that she supported my being an infantilist. God only knows. I’d bitten my lip so hard that I tasted blood in my mouth, all in the name of trying to keep my cool. I told myself that Easter was supposed to be one of the holiest days of the year in hopes that I could control myself. This particular Easter, however, soon became the most unholy day of the year.

“It’d be nice if you actually looked us in the eyes when you talked to us, dad.” I said angrily as I set my fork on the table.

“It’d be nice, but it isn’t going to happen.” he retorted.

“Now you listen to me, damn it! You can’t go on for the rest of your life treating me like this! The same goes for Jill! She didn’t even do anything to you and you still treat her like she isn’t welcome here.”

“John, honey, calm down…” my mother said calmly, though her words were blocked by the air’s thickness.

“No, mom! Ever since I got out of the hospital he’s been treating me like shit!” I glared at my father. “You didn’t even write anything on my fucking birthday card! And what’s worse is I bet you tell everyone in the family that we’re all fine and dandy, don’t you?!”

By that point I was out of my chair, and my father followed suit. But he didn’t say a word. Not one word. He allowed me to blow off all of my steam, all of my rage.

“If you can’t accept the fact that I am who I am, that’s fine! I don’t care! Okay? I, don’t, fucking, care! But that doesn’t give you the right to treat me the way you do! You’re my father for God’s sake! Start acting like it!”

“And you’re a man, John! Start acting like one!”

“Richard!” mom shouted at my father.

Never once before in my life had I wanted to hit my father. I wanted to see him on the dining room floor with a bloody lip. I wanted to pick him up and throw him through the window. Jill grabbed my arm; she knew what I was about to do. I unclenched my fists and continued to spit fire.

“So this is how it’s gonna be, huh?! Want to use my flaws against me?! You’re one to talk! It only took you…what…sixteen years and mom’s threat of divorcing you to get counseling? Oh yeah, that’s being a man, dad.”

“Shut up, John!” my dad screamed.

But I wasn’t done yet.

“Did you ever think some of this might be your fault? Maybe you were too hard on me! Maybe that’s what made me get into these things! Did you ever think of that?”

Without warning my father raised his hand as if he were going to hit me. He held it high above his head and waited to see what I’d do. I didn’t flinch, but I could feel the tears stream down my face.

“You’re not my son.”

The phrase that ended the war. Everything, and I mean everything, fell silent. Jill, my mother, me, my father, the cars outside, the buzzing of the dining room light, all completely silent.

“W-what?”

“You’re not my son. Get out. Now. And don’t come back this time.”

“Dad…don’t.” I felt weak at the knees.

“Richard, stop it!” my mother shouted once again.

“He is not welcome here, any more!” my father pointed at me while facing mom.

I’d just swallowed one of the biggest pills ever made. A pill so fast-acting that it dissipated all of my anger and turned it to defeat in an instant. It didn’t have to sink in; it punctured my heart the second it left his lips.

“My whole life I put up with your anger and your abuse. My whole life…and you disown me for this?” I asked in disbelief.

“Go! Get out!”

“I hate you.”

And I left with my head down, the tears rolling off my face, and Jill beside me. Mom followed behind us with her car keys in hand. She was just as hurt as we were. Of all the things my father had said to me, this was the most damaging. He didn’t just burn the bridge; he obliterated it to a point beyond repair.

“John, I’m so sorr-” mom attempted to comfort me.

“Don’t! Just don’t!” I sobbed as I pulled away from her. “That man in there can’t be my father, mom! He can’t be! He can’t be!”

Jill got into the driver’s side of my car, and I slumped into the passenger’s side. With her right hand gently rubbing my shoulder and a barely audible cry escaping her mouth, she pulled out of my parents’ driveway and drove us to her house, which I quickly came to acknowledge as my new home.

The car ride was silent. My brain couldn’t pick up the sounds of the engine whirring or the tires hitting the bumps in the road. I just blanked out any and all stimuli, and stared out the window, my hand clasped around Jill’s. They say the trip back is always faster, but that wasn’t the case on that Easter Sunday. The drive easily felt like we’d spent half the day in the car.

When we did arrive home, the air there was not thick. I could breathe a little easier, even amidst the emotional chaos. Jill didn’t leave my side for the rest of the day. We sat on her couch without saying a word to each other, while I told myself that the week could not get any worse.

Two days later, even after all that had happened, I received a phone call from my mother. My father died of a heart attack. Just like that, he was dead. Gone forever, leaving the remnants of our war lingering over my soul for an indefinite amount of time. That’s when I got a first-hand experience of what insanity felt like.

[CDfm]

My heart just fell from my chest. Again the roller coaster of emotions really got to me. At the beginning of these last two chapters I had hope, hope I really wasn’t expecting. But there was hope that John’s father would come around and actually accept his son. Then that hope began to fade and finally it was crushed at Easter dinner. Then the crushing news that John’s dad passed away before there could even be an attempt at reconciliation. Now the question is does John attend the services? I think I would have a hard time going but my going would me more for my mother than for my father. Knowing that dad is now going to have to answer to the almighty for his actions would bring me some comfort. I was so glad I had a like to give this today. I can’t wait to read more. 

[Dr_J]

Good morning, and thank you again for all the feedback. We are nearing the end of the John Morrow saga. Here are the next 3 chapters.

Chapter 24

Not in a million years did I think my father’s life would end so soon. Neither he nor my mom ever mentioned that he was having any complications or health concerns. I couldn’t really fathom what my mom had told me on the phone. I was confused at first, as if my brain couldn’t compute what had happened. Death’s Black Hand took him swiftly and far too soon. You might think my father got what he deserved, and while I was upset with him for everything he’d said and did, he was still my father. I still loved him.

When I’d gotten off of the phone with my mom, Jill asked me what was wrong. My hands trembled violently as I said, “He’s dead.” I didn’t cry or become angry. I simply told Jill he was dead while feelings of shock and remorse swept over my world. As much as my body told me to cry and release the overwhelming onslaught of negative emotions, I simply could not.

You read about this stuff in the newspaper all the time, but you never really think about it happening to you until it does. You think about all the time you were supposed to have with the person that was taken away with you. You question your faith and your brain continuously asks the question, “Why?” without being able to come up with an answer. These things combined are enough to ravage any person’s life.

I think what hit me the hardest was that my father and I weren’t even given the chance to make amends before he died. Jill and my mother attempted to console me, but I shed not one tear, showed not one sign of grieving or sadness. Not when I received the news, not when I went to his wake, and not when I watched his casket get buried six feet into the ground. This obviously worried my mom and girlfriend, but I was an idiot and told them I was fine…fake smiles and all.

My entire body shut off at that point. My internal clocks malfunctioned, my sleeping and eating patterns were in disarray, and I didn’t smile or laugh for weeks. The only thing that echoed in my brain was, “You’re not my son.” Whenever I closed my eyes, “You’re not my son.” While I took my finals at school and finished up the spring semester, “You’re not my son.” Mom, Jill, and my professors all told me that I needed to take time to cope with my loss, but I shoved my emotions aside and made them wait until I was through.

The entire time I felt weak in both the head and the heart. So fatigued, so enraged, and so depressed. I walked all over campus with my fists and teeth clenched. The amount of stress put on my body was dangerously high. Whenever I’d sit in the cafeteria to nibble on something, I contemplated taking the fork I had with me and jabbing it into my jugular. I’d see one of the university police officers when I walked into the main building and think about taking their pistol and firing it into the side of my head. Something, anything to make the pain go away, because my body and mind would not, could not cope, would not and could not accept that my father left the world with both of us so angry at each other. Why couldn’t he have been given the chance to apologize…and if he were given the chance, would he have? The fixation I had on what had happened and what should have been drove me deeper into the depths of self-loathing and suicidal thoughts.

On my last day of finals, I returned to the dorm with the intention of ending my life. It seemed at the time that that was the only way to end the chaos. I felt as though I was at the point of no return without any chance of redemption, or any sign of life looking up. Everything I thought about always brought me back to the fact that I was an infantilist, and because of that, I was hated by my father. That was a pain, my heart told me, that no medicine or counseling could alleviate.

Inside the bathroom was a knife, its shimmering blade so sharp, just begging to pierce my heart. Dan had left it there after he’d used it to cut up some steak from a dorm barbecue, and with him taking his last final, nobody would be there to stop me. Its black plastic handle felt rough on the palm of my hand. My room door was locked, the blinds on my windows closed, leaving me alone with what little was left of my wits and sanity. The pain would soon be gone; all I had to do was drive the knife into my chest, and everything would be better.

The edge of the blade made a slight impression on my black shirt while my hands trembled and tears fell rapidly. I closed my eyes and breathed heavily. This was it. I was just a thrust away from leaving the world once and for all.

Like a sign from God, the sound of steel drums escaped my right pants pocket. I’d left my phone on, and there it screamed like a conscience trying to get me to make the right choice. I opened my phone as soon as I pulled it out of my pocket, only to see that I had received a voicemail from Jill.

I hesitantly typed my four-digit password into my phone and turned the speaker phone option on.

“Hey babe! I just wanted to know how your finals went…”

My entire body shook and my heart felt like it was trying to climb out of my throat.

“...and how you’re holding up. I know you said you were fine the last time we talked, but I just wanted to make sure…”

Oh my God…

“…I know it’s been rough dealing with everything that happened and I know I’ve said it a million times, but I am here for you…”

Oh my God…

“…and I love you. I can’t wait to see you tonight. Love you babe. Bye-bye.”

“Oh my God…Jill…”

The knife dropped from my hands and landed on the floor with a loud thud, and I soon followed. No, I didn’t stab myself, even though I was milliseconds away from doing so. Jill’s message had removed the veil of insanity from my eyes. It brought me back to reality and broke the dam that held back all of the missing emotions. I must have played that message back 50 times, sobbing harder and harder with each listen.

“Jill…I’m so sorry!”

Though she wasn’t there, I repeated this over and over again like a broken record player. I’d almost ruined not only my own life, but the lives of my girlfriend and my mother as well. What I had thought for a while to be a selfless act had now came off as one of the most selfish things I could’ve done. Jill had lost a son already. She wouldn’t have been able to get past losing me, too. And my mother…my mother lost a loved one already. Her suffering would’ve been far worse had I used the knife as a means of escape.

Right there, on my dorm floor, I deemed myself a fool. And there on my floor I wept like the broken man I had become. It was a pain like no other; not like the bitterness that once stood between Jill and me, or the spill I took on Jill’s front lawn, or the years of degrading remarks and shouting I had endured from my father. This was much worse. And yet, it felt good. Good to be able to release it and temporarily ease the suffering. They say that one of the reasons a person commits suicide is not because they’re weak or foolish, but because they feel a pain so great that they can’t withstand it. Whoever they are, they couldn’t be more right. I consider myself very fortunate to have found a way to pull myself up out of the shadow of death.

Although I’d won the battle, the war was far from over. There was no denying it anymore: I needed help. I’d thought about counseling or therapy on and off throughout the years, but always felt like those places were only for the ill-minded. I also had a fear that they’d send me away if they probed my brain. It sounds silly, but it really had become a valid fear of mine. It was now time to roll up my sleeves and get the help I desperately needed.

I returned the knife to the bathroom and felt like I was in a haze. Part of me wondered if the whole thing had been some twisted nightmare, but I knew it was very, very real. It didn’t take long before I was packed up and ready to return to Jill’s for the summer. Before I left, however, I called her. I had to tell her what I had done, even though I felt stricken with guilt.

The phone only rang once before Jill picked up and said, “Hey babe! How were your finals?”

“Good, babe. I’m all packed up and ready to head to your place.”

“Aw, good! I have a few surprises for you when you get home that I think you might like.”

“Sounds good.”

“John? Your voice sounds raspy. Are you okay?”

There was no beating around the bush with this one. I had to be straightforward. Even through the guilt, there was still a slight calming feeling in my body as I talked to Jill.

“I…no.”

“Aww, what’s wrong?”

“I want to tell you when I get to your house. Just please promise me you will still love me.”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, hon. I’ll always love you!”

“I know. And I really appreciate it. I’ll see you when I get there.”

Again, the conversation felt surreal, almost as if it had never happened. We said our goodbyes, and soon after I was on my way to my love’s house. It was time to get my life back together, one battle at a time.

Chapter 25

Stillness lingered in the air as I drove towards Jill’s place. I was in the eye of the storm, in my car, refusing to look back at the damage that had been done up to that point. Jill became my main focus during that drive, and so did building up the courage to confess that I had almost ended my life and that I needed help.

What would she say? Sure, she promised she’d love me no matter what, but how would she react when I’d tell her I tried to kill myself? And how would I go about telling her? I practiced the words I would say for the entire duration of the drive. It always seems so easy when you practice, but it becomes almost impossible to say the right words when the moment of truth arrives.

When I pulled into Jill’s driveway, all I could think about were the possible outcomes of our conversation that hadn’t even come into existence yet.

“You tried to fucking kill yourself?! How could you?!”

I held my breath and dragged myself out of the car as a sudden weariness struck my soul. The front door of Jill’s house swung open and out popped my smiling girlfriend. She ran down the stairs and through the grass and gave me the biggest hug I’d received in a while.

“Hi, babe.” I said as I hugged her back.

“Welcome home! I missed you so much!” Jill said, followed by a quick kiss on the lips. “Did you want to get your things moved in first, or did you want to talk?”

“W-we need to talk first, Jill.” my voice sounded shaky and I could feel my body tremble.

I felt worse than I had when I told her I was an infantilist. We walked into Jill’s house holding each other’s hands. I think she knew I was nervous by the way my body trembled, but she didn’t call me out on it.

An extreme dryness filled my mouth as she led me into the living room. I felt like I’d have rather gone up on a stage in front of thousands of people stark naked than confess to Jill what I’d done.

We both gently sat down on the couch. Despite its comfort, I couldn’t sit still at first. My eyes shifted about wildly and a peculiar tightness formed in my chest.

“So babe, what did you want to tell me?” Jill asked sweetly.

Judgment Day had come…why did I feel so weak and afraid? Why did I truly think there was a possibility that Jill would leave me?

“I…I-I-I…” I stuttered like a socially awkward kid talking to a beautiful girl for the first time.

“John…are you gay?” Jill asked with a light chuckle.

“What? No! Haha.” I replied, thrown off-guard.

“I know. I’m just trying to get you to relax. Whatever it is you have to tell me, it’s okay. I promise.”

I remember what I said came out in super slow motion; my surroundings fell silent with the exception of my racing heart.

“I…”

The weight of my dignity and courage to admit my weakness teetered furiously on the tip of my tongue.

“…need…”

They say it can be extremely hard for someone to admit they have a problem and need help. I couldn’t agree with them more. I held my breath and prepared myself for the things to come.

“…help.”

It was done. Three words that made a cut across my stomach so deep that my guts had no choice but to spill onto the floor. I swallowed hard as Jill asked, “With what?”

I couldn’t avoid it. It was time to come clean once and for all. More silence filled the room, only this time I felt a familiar wetness form in my eyes.

“…Jill, I…I almost took my own life today.”

Jill covered her mouth and gasped in shock as her eyes instantly widened and filled with tears.

“After dad died…I wouldn’t…couldn’t cope.”

“John…”

“I’m sorry.” I looked at the floor in shame.

I’d just broken a woman’s heart; I didn’t deserve to look at her. Hell, I didn’t deserve to be in the same roo-

“Oh, John!” she cried.

She didn’t get up and leave the room, or slap me, or scream. Instead, she pulled my head into her shoulder, wrapped her arms around me, and we cried together. I remember the only thing I could say during that moment was, “I’m sorry,” and Jill kept telling me that it was going to be okay. She gently pulled my head away from her shoulder so she could look into my eyes, which still shifted wildly about.

“John, look at me. It’ll be okay. Hey, look at me.”

“I-I can’t.”

“Please, look at me. It’s okay. I love you.”

Those three words returned. “I love you.” The same exact words that saved me in my dorm room. They were powerful enough to get me to drop the knife, and they were powerful enough to get me to look directly into Jill’s eyes; those beautiful, emerald eyes. Like a hypnotist’s pocket watch, they mesmerized me. They offered me shelter from my storm of a life and cleared some of the fog that clouded my brain.

“I’m sorry for making you cry.” I confessed to Jill.

“There’s no need to apologize, John. You’ve had a horrible month with everything going on! I’m just glad that you’re here.”

“Me too.”

For the next couple of hours, we held each other in silence and allowed ourselves to absorb everything that had happened. Neither of us got up to eat, or use the bathroom, or answer our text messages. We’d shut the world around us completely out and quietly cleaned up some of my “guts” from off the floor until I felt ready to speak again. Without stuttering or trailing off, I made yet another bold statement to Jill.

“Well, Jill, it’s official: your boyfriend is a whack job. Tomorrow I’m going to look for a therapist.” I said in an attempt to add some humor to our rather upsetting evening.

“Aww, you’re not a whack job, babe. If anything, I think you’re one of the bravest guys I know!” Jill said with sincerity in her voice.

“Even when I’m a little baby?”

“Yes,” she giggled, “even when you’re a little baby! And if there’s anything…anything I can do to help you, just tell me. I’m here for you!”

“Thank you.” I said, followed by a passionate kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, why don’t we go unpack your things?”

And so we did. Within two hours we had all of my things moved into Jill’s place, and for the first time in a month, I truly did feel like everything was going to be okay. The first battle had been won, but I still had a long way to go before I could consider myself victorious.

Chapter 26

Before I actually went into therapy, there was something about the idea that scared me. I was always under the impression that they’d certify me absolutely insane and suggest that I spend some time in a mental ward and take a slew of pills that would alter my personality. I was never so wrong in my life.

The initial search for a good therapist was my biggest challenge. I did not want, by any means, a male therapist. There was no way I’d be able to talk to another dude about my infantilism and everything that had happened between me and my father. That narrowed my search to only a handful of places.

I then found a place that “instilled religious values with therapy to ensure an enlightening, healing experience.” Definitely wasn’t up my alley. Now don’t get me wrong; some people feel more comfortable going into those types of therapy sessions, but I remember a time when my parents went to one when their marriage was on the rocks. The therapist simply told them their marriage wasn’t working because of their lack of faith in God, not because of the fact that my dad was bi-polar and had verbal firefights in our house. I could only imagine what that kind of therapist would’ve told me had I revealed that I was an infantilist…not to mention my lack of faith at that time. Next!

Adamantly, I continued to look through the local online directories to find what I was looking for. There were therapists who had almost two decades of experience and therapists who flaunted their college degrees, but that didn’t make me feel inclined to set up an appointment with any of them. It was then that I found Dr. Judith Venello. The photo the search engine had of her portrayed her as a smiling, black-haired and brown-eyed woman in her mid to late thirties. She touted about eight years of experience and a degree from some fancy-schmancy institution I’d never heard of before. But it was the little blurb about her that sold me. While I can’t remember exactly what it said, what I do remember is the part that read: “I don’t want my patients to feel like they’re being talked down on. I do my best to make sure we can discuss and work out problems eye-to-eye.” So I scheduled an appointment for the following Thursday morning, despite my initial uncertainty about the whole thing.

Thursday morning arrived sooner than later, and I found myself in the very quiet waiting room of Dr. Venello’s practice. Light classical music played in the background, and the round fish tank in the center of the room induced a calm feeling as I anticipated the, “Mr. Morrow? Come on in!” Personally I was never one for hospitals, or a doctor’s office, or any similar place, mostly because I feared they would find something wrong with me. My anxiety always got the best of me when I was in such places. Part of me wanted to hurry up and get the session over with, while the other part wanted to get up and leave and never come back.

I can’t believe I’m in therapy. Me of all people! I wonder if Dr. Venello’s as nice as her web site made her seem. The thoughts were seemingly endless and were far louder than the classical music.

I ran my fingers through my hair and took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. With just three minutes to go until my session began, I told myself that I had one last chance to walk out the door and wait until I felt less anxious about being there. Still, I knew Jill wouldn’t have been happy if I told her I didn’t go, plus I was already there.

The sound of high heels clacking along the floor could be heard on the other side of a closed wooden door a few yards from where I sat. Louder and louder the steps got, until I watched the golden doorknob jingle a bit and turn. The wooden door opened slightly, and a woman who I already knew was Dr. Venello popped out with a warm smile. She was about five feet, ten inches high, and her skin was slightly darker than it appeared on her picture, as if she’d had been tanning for quite some time. Her lips were scarlet-colored and she wore a grey business skirt.

“Jonathon Morrow?” she asked quietly.

“Yes?” I slowly stood up from my chair and felt a sudden dryness in my mouth.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Venello.”

We shook hands and smiled as she led me through the brightly-lit hallway. The classical music died out the further we went down the hallway, and before I knew it, we arrived at an office with a light green carpet and a large mahogany desk that sat in front of a large window. A large black leather chair with matching couch was in the corner of the office, complemented by an expensive-looking coffee table. There were also two chairs directly in front of the mahogany desk, both of which looked extremely comfortable. Against the walls were Dr. Venello’s diplomas and two large bookshelves filled to the brim with various, uninteresting titles. The faint smell of cinnamon filled my nostrils.

“Please, sit down where you feel comfortable.” Dr. Venello assured as she closed the door behind us.

Is she going to evaluate me based on where I sit? I thought as I slowly made my way to the leather furniture in the corner of the office.

At first I’d opted to take the couch, but for some reason I didn’t feel comfortable lying down in front of someone I’d never met in my life, so I picked the black chair instead. Dr. Venello pulled one of the chairs in front of her desk over and sat down as well.

“Do you prefer to be called Jonathon, or John?”

“John’s fine.”

“Okay, John. So tell me, what’s on your mind?”

I tried to kill myself a few days ago…no, that wouldn’t be a good way to start…would it?

“Well, where do I begin?”

“That’s entirely up to you.” Dr. Venello crossed her legs and leaned forward in her chair.

Was she truly prepared to hear this? Hell, Jill was in tears when I told her what was going on. How could a therapist handle something like that? No, she couldn’t know what I’d done just yet. I chose to ease that part into later sessions, unless it was brought up by her. With a trembling body and a quivering lip, I spoke.

“My, uh…my father died about a month ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Dr. Venello spoke with sincerity in her voice. “That must be very hard for you to deal with.”

Harder than you think…

“Well I’m sitting in here, aren’t I?” I chuckled to avert my sadness.

“You’re doing the right thing. In fact, for a man your age, you’re quite brave coming here. A lot of people are either too frightened or too stubborn to seek help when they need it.”

I started to like Dr. Venello already! In that small window of time, she managed to reveal a little more of her down to Earth personality and I felt comfortable around her.

“So,” Dr. Venello continued, “would you like to tell me a bit about your father?”

Truth be told, I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t want to tell her that he disowned me and that he called me a freak and told me I made him sick to his stomach. Most of all, I didn’t want to tell her the reason he did these things to me. And yet, I laid the cards out on the table.

“He was…” I paused for a moment, “…he was a good father for the most part. I mean, he suffered from bi-polar disorder, so he had his days.”

“I see. Did he ever hurt you in any way?”

He left a psychological scar the size of the Grand Canyon on my soul…

“Physically, no.”

“I see.”

There was a long pause before I continued. My brain tried to organize my thoughts in a coherent way, but because of how I felt about the whole thing, it took me longer to process than usual.

“He…” I paused once more as I felt a sudden sadness sweep over my body.

“It’s okay, John. Take your time.”

“I mean, we had our fights when I was younger and everything...and we always got over it. He’d apologize and eventually we’d be back to being best buddies. B-but before he…before he died…” a familiar stinging sensation filled my eyes.

Dr. Venello grabbed a box of tissues and gently handed them to me. There I was, before a woman whom I had no previous history with, whom I hardly knew, starting to cry as if she were my best friend. And I didn’t care.

“…he told me I wasn’t his son.” my voice cracked as I started sobbing.

My cries grew so loud I imagine the rest of the office heard me. They probably thought I was just some insecure college kid “going through a phase.” Dr. Venello placed her hand on my shoulder while I grabbed a handful of tissues and cleaned my face. That was how I was supposed to feel, not like some robot or statue. But why could I not feel anything right away? Why did it take my suicide attempt to bring out these feelings? To this day, I still ask myself those questions, and I’ve yet to come up with a good answer, other than the cliché, “everything happens for a reason.”

“John, I know it hurts, but it's going to be okay. You're going to be alright.” Dr. Venello tried to reassure me.

“I told him I hated him before he died! That's the last thing I ever said to him!”

“Everyone says something out of anger at times, but they don't always mean it.”

My cries became softer as I gathered my thoughts. While the pain was still in my chest, it seemed to be getting a little more bearable than it had been. I finally managed to calm myself down enough to speak coherently.

“He meant it...and so did I.” I said quietly.

“How do you know that for sure? You said he was bi-polar, didn't you?”

“You don't understand,” I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair, “he had a reason to say it.”

“What would make your father want to say something like that?” Dr. Venello asked.

I tensed up immediately after Dr. Venello's question and responded with a sharp, “No. I can't.”

“I understand, John. Whatever it is must be hard for you to share, but if you're not comfortable with telling me right now, that's okay. It's something we can work toward.”

And when we reach that point, you can hop me up on meds and tell me I'm a freak.

“Maybe.” I replied.

We spent the last part of my session coming up with ways to help me cope with everything that happened. Dr. Venello suggested that I keep a diary or write down a list of both good and bad things about my father, as well as anything about myself that I felt was good or bad. This included any and all experiences that I felt affected me in one way or another. She even gave me a blank book to write my thoughts in. I have to admit that even though I didn't feel comfortable telling her that I was an infantilist at the time, I did feel comfortable sharing everything else with her. I knew I'd made a wise choice with her as my therapist. I actually looked forward to returning the following week, even though I still feared what her reaction would be when I told her what I was. I left her office clutching my diary and releasing a sigh that consisted partially of relief and partially of self-loathing for being so afraid. Still, as much as I hated to admit it, I knew that revealing my secret would be the only thing that would get me through the pain.

[CDfm]

Son-of-a-bitch! That made me cry. Cry actual tears. It’s likely because suicide is such a horrific waist and like was pointed out it’s the easy way out for the person taking their life. It causes so much more pain for the loved ones than you can imagine. Being a Police Officer for so many years I witnessed far more suicides than I ever should have. The pain those lives being lost is a huge and sharp pain. I am really glad John got control over himself and was strong enough to admit he needed help. I was happy I could give this a like. I am not sure how much more of this I can take but it has to get better so I do want to read more. 

[Dr_J]

Thank you again for the feedback, everyone. Here are the next 2 chapters:

Chapter 27

I followed Dr. Venello’s advice and spilled my thoughts all over the blank pages. Within the first week, I must have filled at least seven pages! A lot of it revolved around my father and me. Had I dropped the book on the ground and someone were to read it, they’d have probably thought I was a pessimist. But, you know what? It felt good to write it down. That way I could see it and it was off my mind enough to where it didn’t make my heart heavy. There were only a couple of things I failed to put in there: the fact that I’d tried killing myself, and the fact that I was an infantilist. Those were realistically the two things I needed to admit to Dr. Venello so I could move on with my life and with my therapy, but at the same time, simply the thought of writing them down paralyzed me with fear. So at my second session, I avoided the issues, despite so badly wanting to talk about them. Part of me thinks Dr. Venello knew something was wrong, as she studied my face more often that time around.

Now you might be wondering how Jill felt about this whole therapy thing. One of the hardest things about going to therapy or counseling while in a relationship is that there runs the risk of the significant other wanting details…details you may not necessarily be comfortable sharing with them. This isn’t always the case, but sometimes it is. Fortunately for me, Jill wasn’t like that. She’d ask a simple, “How’d it go, babe?” and allow me to share whatever I wanted. No asking what my therapist was like, no asking what we talked about, no nosy nonsense. Yet another reason why I love her to death!

The third session. This was it. The entire week preceding it I contemplated spilling my guts to Dr. Venello about everything, and not just because I was feeling courageous. If I even so much as thought too hard about my father screaming at me and the knife I held so closely to my chest, I’d choke up. The simple thing to do would’ve been to not think about it, but when it’s so deeply etched into your brain, that’s nearly impossible. I remember walking into Dr. Venello’s office with a rapidly beating heart and a feeling so horrible in my stomach that I thought I was going to vomit.

“So, John, what would you like to talk about today?” Dr. Venello asked as I sat uncomfortably in the chair across from her.

I didn’t speak right away. Instead, I handed her my black book, showing her the page where I’d written,

I hate how I can’t shake why my father said the things he did and what I did to myself after he died.

“John, I know we briefly touched on this during our first session, and even a little more last week, but this isn’t something that you can ‘shake.’ At least, not just like that. We should explore this more so we can-”

“-It isn’t that simple.” I cut her off. “I have only told two people in my life the thing that led my father to hate me. He only found out by accident.”

“And why is it that you only told two people?”

“Because it isn't something people generally accept. I told Jill because it was important that she knew...the other person I told when I was drunk.”

“How did the two you told react?”

“Jill was completely fine with it, and I guess Trish was. But despite that fact, I was so afraid of them calling me a freak or never speaking to me again.”

“And your father didn't take it so well.”

“...no. Like I told you, he told me I wasn't his son. 'Fucking freak', he called me. Told him I made him sick to his stomach.” I swallowed hard as past feelings stirred violently around my chest.

There was a brief silence as Dr. Venello jotted something down on her notepad. She then looked up and spoke once more.

“Why do you think your father got so upset and angry with you?”

Let's see, I like being treated like a baby and wear diapers sometimes, despite the fact that I'm an adult.

“I wish I could tell you.”

“Well, you could...”

“Nice try.”

It was almost like a fight between our words. Hers tried to use attacks to get me to open myself up, but I was always on my guard. And then she got me to lower it.

“John, how do feel about your father now? If you could see him again, what would you say to him?”

“I don't know...I-”

I knew damn well what I wanted to say to him, and still I wouldn't, until...

“So he said all of these mean things to you, and you don't have anything you want to say back? Let's imagine he's right here in the room with us. What do you want to say?” the combination of verbal punches made me cough up not blood, but all of the feelings I had towards my father.

“I fucking hate him! I hate him for what he fucking put me through! I hate him...and I love him!” I stood up from my chair and paced behind it, my breathing heavier than ever. “He was supposed to be my father, and he turned his back on me! All these fucking years I knew what I was and I was so scared! I hid it from everybody because I knew one of these days it'd happen! I knew he'd find out and hate me for this! And despite that, I couldn't prepare myself enough for it. Didn't even try to make amends...and then he dies! Do you have any idea what that feels like? That...poison running through your veins? Being left with the final memory of your dad telling you you're not his son? I wanted to die!”

Dr. Venello jotted some more down in her notebook, then leaned forward with a look of concern on her face.

“John, you say it's like a poison. How have you been coping with it so far? I mean, before the therapy, what did you do?”

“I-” I was extremely hesitant.

“Did you talk to anybody or seek counseling through the school?”

“No...” I felt an even worse trembling sensation throughout my body.

I knew it was coming. I knew she'd ask it and yet I prayed to God that she wouldn't.

“I want you to be honest with me now, because this is important. Did you ever have thoughts of suicide upon your father's death?”

“...yes...” I shook more violently as I cried a little harder.

“John...did you at any point attempt suicide?”

I nodded my head and sobbed.

“I-I couldn't handle it...over and over and over the scene played in my head. All I'd see was my father yelling and the last night we had dinner together. I couldn't take it...no matter what way I looked at it, it was my fault he died...the stress I caused him through our arguing, him finding out about me...it could have been avoided.”

I grabbed a handful of tissues from the table and buried my face in them. I didn't want Dr. Venello to see me, or anyone else for that matter. And yet at the same time, I just didn't care. I didn't care what I told Dr. Venello anymore. When you're at such a low point in your life, sometimes you just say, “Screw it” and that sense of fear goes away temporarily.

“The important thing here is that you didn't end your life. You sought help instead. But it's also important that you tell me what it is that you've been hiding. It's the only way we're going to get around this, John. You've trusted me enough to tell me all of these horrible things that you've been through. You can trust me with this. I'm here to help you.”

And for the first time in my life, I looked someone square in the eyes with a straight face and uttered the three words I'd avoided saying for so long no matter how much truth was in them: “I'm an infantilist.”

 

Chapter 28

I'd never tasted words so sour as they escaped my lips...but why did they taste that way? It felt like I'd told Dr. Venello I murdered somebody. An overwhelming dryness filled my mouth and my face got red hot. I looked down at my hands to see them trembling violently.

“An infantilist.” Dr. Venello repeated.

“Yes.”

My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear myself speak. What would she say? How would she react? Would she kick me out of her office? What the hell had I done? I wanted to die, and I wanted to die right then and there. My eyes shifted all about the room, sweat dripped down my face, and my body trembled violently. I told myself it'd take just the slightest hint of disgust in Dr. Venello's voice or facial expression and I would pass out.

“John, calm down. Deep breaths.” she spoke calmly.

Despite her being only a few feet in front of me, her voice sounded so distant. Of all the times I'd felt anxious, this was close to, if not as bad as when my father had discovered my secret. I followed Dr. Venello's instructions and inhaled as slowly and calmly as I could.

“That's it. It's over, John. It's out on the floor now. Try to relax.”

“I-I can't.” I whispered.

“Just try.”

“H-how come you’re so calm about this?!” I raised my voice.

“How come you’re not?”

“Because it’s-not normal…”

“And what exactly is normal, John?”

She had me there. What was normal? There is no such thing when you think about it. Perhaps normalcy is judged by one’s sanity…but whose sanity is considered the happy medium? Still, I expressed myself further.

“This isn’t, okay? Having to hide this isn’t normal. Having to keep it a secret for so many years isn’t normal. Having to keep your mouth shut while people speak so maliciously about people like you isn’t normal! Not having anyone to talk about this until you meet the one person who accepts you for you isn’t normal! And having your parents look at you like you’re not welcome in their home anymore even after you lived there for your entire life isn’t normal!”

“You say this as if you hate this part of you.” Dr. Venello was quick to respond.

I paused and listened to the clock’s rhythmic ticking on the far corner of the wall, gathering my thoughts.

“I hate what it has done to me.”

“How do you mean?”

“I hate the fear and anxiety it’s caused me, even after all these years. I hate how any time something too ‘babyish’ is brought up, I have to leave the room because I feel like they know and they’re judging me. I hate the way it caused my father to react and what it almost made me do…and still, in spite of all of that, I can’t…no, won’t…let it go.”

“And why is that?”

I told her everything good about being an infantilist; about being totally immersed in serenity and forgetting all the anxieties the world instills in your brain; about that indescribable feeling of being looked at and cared for with absolute adoration by someone who genuinely loves you; about the new bond it created between me and Jill, and how it helped her cope with her loss; and as equally as important, about how happy it made me.

“It’s like I’m torn between considering it a flaw and considering it a unique quality.”

“Perhaps the question you need to ask yourself is which is it more of? On the one hand, it sounds like your infantilism is doing you more harm than good. Yet on the other hand, it’s benefiting both you and your girlfriend.”

I pondered the question for a moment. Which one was it more of? It almost seemed like it was the perfect balance; a gift and a curse.

“It shouldn’t matter, should it?”

An epiphany! Dr. Venello turned her head curiously.

“It seems to me that, through my experiences and research on this whole thing, society generally frowns upon and refuses to understand that which they know nothing or little about. They assume too much without getting the facts or taking the time to understand people in my situation. And that makes me afraid. It makes me afraid of being ridiculed and abandoned by the people I care about; my friends, my family. So I’ve been hiding it out of fear of others finding out. I’ve been hiding it, because I know that it’s not something that society is willing to understand with the compassion I desire them to understand it with, and because I have seen how some people react and how much hatred and disgust they have towards this lifestyle. Yet, there’s Jill, who loves me and accepts and understands me. I’m comfortable with her knowing, while being extremely sensitive to the idea of others finding out. She brings out the best of this part of me, while my perception of society brings out the worst. She’s more important to me than society. So why do I care? What has tricked me into thinking that I should care and worry about what others think when I have somebody who doesn’t care? But when I think about it, I can’t stop being afraid.”

I didn’t know it then, but looking back now, I had hit a critical breakthrough in figuring the whole infantilist thing out. Although, as I’ve mentioned before, there doesn’t seem to be any true “figuring out” of this lifestyle. There was a brief pause as Dr. Venello finished writing everything down in her notepad.

“It sounds to me like you’ve been thinking about this for quite some time, John.”

“Probably since…since I knew, really. I mean, before Jill, I had nobody, but I yearned for someone. I prayed whenever I could that God would either send me someone who wouldn’t shun me for this, or to help me find a way to make it disappear.”

“I see. You that you can’t stop being afraid. Why do you think that might be?”

“Because…” I knew the answer, but again had a difficult time letting the words escape my lips. “I guess despite Jill being okay with it…sometimes it makes me feel guilty, as if I’m doing something wrong.”

It was something I had never even shared with Jill, although I think based on what I had told her and how sensitive I was about it, she sort of knew.

“How so?”

“When I think about it, all I can picture is someone I know finding out about me and saying, ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ or someone exploiting me and ruining my life. It’s like there’s some kind of unsung stigma society places on us. They don’t speak or know much about it, but they classify it as wrong and assume all people who are into it are either pedophiles or are sick in the head. So I suppose because society says it’s wrong, I feel guilty at times.”

“That stigma could be why you feel guilty. If you think about it, the norm of our society is that when you grow up, you do grownup things. You essentially let go of the childish things and move on with your life. But, infantilists don’t do that. They hold on to those childish things for a variety of reasons, whether it’s a self-defense mechanism in response to various stressors, a yearning for that sense of innocence, and, in some cases, simply a sexual turn-on. Sometimes it’s a combination of these things. You and others like you go against what society has deemed as ‘normal,’ thus making you feel like you’re doing something wrong.”

“That’s it! And any time I hear people speaking badly about it, I feel like they’re onto me and I get so scared. Like it keeps holding me back and I can’t seem to find a way to stop thinking like that. I just feel like I have some great qualities that people see in me…and it’s like if they found out this one thing, they’ll disregard everything good.”

“But is that truly the case, John?” Dr. Venello asked as she touched her temple with her right hand. “Altogether you’ve told five people, and only one of them gave you a negative reaction. There are three things I’m getting from what you’ve told me. One, the stigma you speak of has altered your own perception of both yourself and your preference, meaning you’ve allowed it to grow into something much bigger than it really is. Two, it appears you have a need for acceptance from certain people in your life. However, you have to understand that you’re only in control of yourself. In a perfect world, everyone would accept each other for who they are, preferences and all. In this world, we cannot control how others think of us, so it can take time to accept that. Three, the negative feelings you’re experiencing are not just a result of what happened between you and your father. They are also a result of you feeling like it’s your fault, and it isn’t.”

I bit my lip harder with each observation Dr. Venello made. By the time she reached the third, I cringed a little, knowing she was right, but still wouldn’t accept it so easily.

“You’re right about the first two…”

“John, look at me. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“I-it robbed me of so much, and I just sat there and let it happen.”

“But that doesn’t make it your fault-”

“I’ve been looking over my shoulder my entire life, covering my tracks and praying nobody finds out.”

“You hid it away because you felt you had to.”

“I kept everyone at a safe distance. I chose not to be close friends with anyone. I chose to end relationships so I could protect myself, because I couldn’t trust anyone enough to tell them and was so damn afraid of what they’d do if they found out. I lived in fear for nearly my entire life, and just when I thought it was going well, I slip up and my father loses his life after disowning me. I should’ve sought help sooner, and I didn’t. I should’ve told somebody, and I didn’t. ”

“John, this is going to be hard to do, but you have to learn to understand that you did what you felt was right. You protected yourself because you thought people would use it against you. The environment and situations you were in and the people you met made you feel like you had to do this, and in a way, you did. But everybody has their preferences, and I think once you learn to establish your infantilism as a preference rather than this thing that you feel has been ruining your life, you’ll feel a lot better about yourself and your preference. That doesn’t mean you have to shout it out to the world, but it does mean that you have to work towards coming to terms with it, with my help, of course.”

“And if I can’t?”

“You can.”

“But if I can’t? Then what?”

“Then this will haunt you for the rest of your life. You’ll be looking over your shoulder and living in this fearful state of mind, wondering if the next person is going to find out. But if you’re willing to let me help you, I promise you I will do everything I can to not let that happen.”

I sighed in defeat; Dr. Venello was right. My quir-sorry-preference, became my obsession. It became my cursed treasure in which I had to protect at all costs; my greatest vulnerability in which I shielded and shoved so many people away from if they got too close; my prison in which I was tormented in for nearly my entire life. And there, in that therapist’s office, we had picked me apart, piece by piece. All of my insecurities and doubts, my constant inner-struggle between self-acceptance and self-loathing, in some kind of exploded view in Dr. Venello’s office, and no matter how much I wanted to turn away, there was no denying that I had a problem. This was the next big part of the war that I had to win. It was at that point that I decided it was at least worth a shot, and that maybe Dr. Venello could help me. After all, doing it alone hadn’t done me all that good.

“I’ll do it.”

[Jayme]

Please tell us there is more to this story....

This is written very well. I can see this happening to someone in real life, I hope this is not an autobiography...

[Dr_J]

There is more. However, it is almost to the end...

[Dr_J]

Here are the final 2 chapters, as well as my final thoughts. Don't forget that this is available on Amazon Kindle. I've only had 2 reviews there, but they were both good. I hope you enjoy the conclusion of the John Morrow story.

Chapter 29

Before our session ended, Dr. Venello told me that it’d be okay. The plan was that with each session, we’d keep working (with my consent, of course) towards getting me to accept myself. In all honesty, when I left that particular session, I simultaneously felt down and calm. The combination of releasing all of the negativity I had associated with my infantilism and exposing some of my greatest weaknesses definitely took its toll. I don’t think I had ever wanted to time-travel one week into the future so badly before. If Dr. Venello was good enough to talk me through some of my darkest thoughts, then she had to be good enough to help me overcome all of this.

That night, Jill immediately knew something had happened, but she wasn’t sure what. As soon as I got in the door, Jill kissed me, saw the weariness in my eyes and said, “John, you look so tired! Are you okay?”

“Well, we made a lot of progress, but it took a lot out of me.” I admitted.

“Wanna talk about it?”

As I mentioned earlier, Jill was never (and still is never) the type to pry; she’s an extremely patient woman, and I usually didn’t disclose in great detail what happened at my therapy sessions. Still, I wanted her to know some of what Dr. Venello and I had uncovered, so I nodded my head.

“We can snuggle in bed while we talk.” Jill said with a smile.

“Sounds good to me!”

Maybe it’s just me, but there’s something about being in bed with someone you really care about that makes spilling the beans a lot easier. We were under the blankets with Jill’s head nestled in my chest in no time.

“So babe,” Jill said as she caressed my stomach with her left hand, “what’s going on?”

“I had a sudden realization today during therapy.”

“Oh?”

Even though I had just talked about it a few hours before with Dr. Venello, I found myself stumbling for the right words, until I slowly and calmly said, “I’ve been running scared my entire life.”

From that point, I explained everything that I had discovered at my session. I didn’t feel as upset talking about it the second time around, but Jill must have sensed my sadness, because she gently scratched my arms to soothe me throughout our conversation (although I imagine anyone on the receiving end of that conversation would’ve thought of it more as a monologue than anything else). I’ve heard somewhere before that sometimes when a person needs to talk to you, the best thing to do is stay quiet; no expression of opinions or thoughts, no interjections. Just whole-hearted listening. Sometimes that’s all someone wants. That’s what I wanted, and that’s what Jill did for me until I was nearly finished.

“I really let this thing get the best of me, and I’ve been blaming myself for hiding it the way I did. And this might sound weird, but even though I feel so relaxed and happy with what we do, there are times when I feel guilty about it. It’s like I imagine what people might say and do if they find out, or that maybe they’ll think of me as less of a man.”

“John,” Jill said as she placed her hand on the side of my face and looked at me with the utmost sincerity, “you are more of a man than anyone I’ve ever met. This did not, does not, and will not ever make you any less of a man. If other people think any less of you because of who you are, then they don’t matter. I mean, yeah, there is always a chance that someone could find out things about you that you’re not comfortable with them knowing, but the most important thing is that I know, and I love you.”

“I never doubted that for a second, Jill. And I love you, too. But keeping this a secret for so long has made me feel so afraid, even though I realized today that I shouldn’t be.”

“Exactly, babe!”

“It’ll take some time, I’m sure. I guess I wish I’d have gone through this earlier in my life. Maybe dad would’ve reacted differently, or never even found out at all.”

Jill didn’t even have to look at me to know the expression on my face.

“I know we’ve talked about this before, but you know what happened with your dad isn’t your fault, right?”

Things got quiet for a moment, and I swallowed hard. Every time Jill or my mom talked to me about my father, I’d clam up and nod, as if to tell them to leave me alone. It had been a touchy subject, and with every occurrence of it being brought up, intense feelings of pain and guilt would sweep over me. However, this time was different. The pain was still present, but it wasn’t enough to render me speechless.

“That’s another thing I need to work on.” I felt Jill hold me just a little tighter at that moment, and she went from scratching my arm to caressing the side of my face.

“I know you’ve told me how your dad could get at times and that you two didn’t get to make peace with each other, but from the times I met him and from the other things you’ve told me, he loved you very much, and I think he still does.”

“Maybe,” I sighed, “but everything’s still fresh in my mind. I don’t see my father for his good qualities yet; I only see him for those last few months that he was alive. It’s going to take a lot of time for me to get over that.”

“I used to feel that way when I first had my miscarriage. I blamed myself for the longest time, and Nick only made it feel worse. It took a while for me to really feel like what happened wasn’t because of anything I did. So in a way, I understand. Take as much time as you need.”

Jill looked over at me and smiled before kissing me on the forehead.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Jill.” I lovingly whispered.

We stayed in bed for the rest of that afternoon. Just like when a person needs to rest while recovering from an illness, so did I after having such an emotionally-driven (and taxing) day.

Chapter 30

My senior year of college started and ended before I knew it! It was pretty hectic at times, considering I had to balance classes, capstone projects, Jill, and therapy all at once. Still, it kept me busy enough that it felt like it was just a blur, which brings us to the present! Like I said before, I’m still working as a bouncer, but with my Bachelor’s degree, I’m thinking something good will open up soon. My boss tells me he knows someone who could use an electrical engineer for their business, so I’m keeping my hopes up!

Now you’re probably dying to know how I turned out with months of therapy and a very loving and supporting girlfriend through what can best be described as one hell of a ride. To tell you the truth, I’m getting better, but I’m still not quite where I want to be. There will always be a little part of me that will question why I am drawn to being an infantilist, and why things with my father happened the way they did. However, that small part of me seems to be getting smaller and weaker as the months move on. I’m not sure if I’ll ever truly get to the point where I’m completely satisfied with who I am, but I’m getting pretty darn close!

After years upon years of struggling through being part of this lifestyle and the increasingly difficult obstacles I’ve had to overcome, I’ve come to realize some things. First, this one preference that most people seem to perceive as odd or unacceptable isn’t causing the world to stop spinning. People will still have their preferences, and their struggles, and their need for both self-acceptance and the acceptance from those close to them, all while living their lives. Second and most importantly, I’m still me. Despite the possibility of any negative associations that come with me being an infantilist, I am a human being, just like everyone else. I live. I love. I enjoy spending time with family and friends. I was a student. I make one of the most important women in my life as happy as I can. I am now, and for the rest of my natural life will be, Jonathon Morrow, and nothing, no matter how odd it might be, will ever change that.

 

Afterword (Author's Final Thoughts)

This truly has been a long time coming. I started writing “What It Is to Be John Morrow” in 2008, but spent a few years before that integrating myself into the various communities and hearing others’ experiences with this lifestyle. And quite honestly, I think I’ve found the most important thing about both myself and others like me: we’re human. We have struggles, we (sometimes at the risk of being hurt) long for acceptance from our loved ones, and wouldn’t you know it? We work, and we go to college, and we raise families. I quietly did my research and tactfully brought up the subject in various conversations with people from all different backgrounds, and the most prevalent response I received was, “That’s sick! Those people need help!” Says who? Society? Like all cultures and subcultures, they throw every single infantilist under a general description without truly getting down to the psychology or the heart of the situation. And just as with every culture, there are those who make everyone else look bad. They paint a picture so distorted that it’s the only thing people can see; the image is “easy” to critique in that light and thus there seems to be no need or desire to look at other pictures that have been painted. That’s one of the many reasons why I wrote this book: to paint that clearer picture and to bring about change in the way people look at those who are into this lifestyle or other lifestyles that might be considered taboo. I’ve seen and felt the hatred and disgust towards this lifestyle, and while it has left a bitter taste in my mouth, something tells me that there is hope, and that while all of society will never understand this lifestyle, hopefully enough of it will to lessen the feelings of self-hate and fear that so many of us experience. This isn’t something that just goes away or that medicine or a psychiatrist can “cure.” At times, it can be a grueling, torturous secret that keeps an individual from forming healthy relationships with other people. There are so many people who participate in this lifestyle that truly want to come clean, but cannot because they’re gripped by the fear that they will be ridiculed and possibly disowned. If you do your research, you’ll find that this has been the case with some people, ranging from people who have been divorced to teenagers who have to move out of their home because they don’t receive the support from their families. It’s tragic and can lead to some severe emotional scarring. Like many others, I come with scars as well; scars from someone I loved who told me to confide in her and then turned me away when I told her about the things I held onto for so long. Again, all a result of the preconceived depiction of the “image” that infantilism and other lifestyles like it have painted on society.

The aforementioned observations are some of what inspired me to write this book. I want to relate to those who are experiencing the hardships of keeping this lifestyle (and many others like it) a secret while simultaneously shedding light to society on what some people really go through. Unfortunately, some would go as far as to ending their own lives because they’re not sure who to turn to or how to cope with it. Some people keep it a secret from their significant others, and their fiancés, and even their spouses, in part because it’s difficult to explain to someone who doesn’t have an open mind, and in part because some people hold it so close to them for so long that they don’t know how to let it out. It’s my hope that this book broadens the perspective and compassion towards those who happen to be carrying such a heavy weight with them wherever they go. And again, I’m not just talking about infantilism, but about other lifestyles as well.

A lot of people have asked me if the events that take place in this book are true. While some of it is inspired by personal experiences, a lot of it is fiction. After all, “fiction is truer,” right? Truth be told, if you can’t tell what’s true and what’s not, then I’ve achieved my goal. Yes, to some, certain scenes will appear far-fetched, but a majority of this is drawn off of “what if” scenarios that could very well happen. Additionally, I didn’t make the lifestyle of infantilism the sole focus of this story; I merely used it as a driving force to lead the reader along John Morrow’s conflict and journey to find himself.

My hope is that you’ve connected with the protagonist, and that you can connect with his struggles, and perhaps one day suggest this to someone who you may wish to discuss your preference with, so that they may get a greater understanding of the real struggles that some people face when discovering certain aspects of their lives.