Later at Daycare

[Mike D]

Hi folks - welcome to the third and final installment of my Mike and Katie short story series. All characters 18+ and of course comments and critique are welcome! 

 

Later At Daycare (or Mike and Katie Part 3)

 

Mike knelt on the floor of the playroom, dutifully picking up Duplo bricks one-by-one and dropping them into the tub at his side.
 

He was trying to drag this task out for as long as possible. He didn’t want to have to talk to Miss Katie right now. Prolonging this little clean-up job would prevent that.
 

Throwing the Duplo tub was naughty - he knew that - but it wasn’t such a huge deal. She didn’t have to put him in timeout for something as trivial as a little tantrum. And it seemed especially unfair that he was now missing outside time.  

 

He glanced up at Katie and saw that she was watching him. He quickly looked back down and continued to pick up the pieces of his little tantrum. 

 

There was another, more tactile, reason why he was avoiding her company and her gaze: Every time he shifted his posture, even a little bit, the rapidly cooling mess in his training pants shifted as well.
 

He couldn’t say with any certainty how or when it had happened. One minute he was picking up colorful bricks in clean training pants, and the next he was doing so with a heavy warmth against his bottom. He must have zoned out briefly, although he had no recollection of that or of snapping back. It was more like he had jumped forward in time all of a sudden. True, he had known he needed to go, (and he probably should have alerted Miss Katie to that much earlier) but he definitely hadn’t known he was going.

 

He didn’t want Miss Katie to find out. Partly because this wasn’t a teeny little accident that could be quickly remedied with a few extra wipes. But more importantly, because with every second that passed, he was further breaking the rule about telling her when he’d had an accident. She’d already had to change his wet undies twice today. What was she going to think if she found out he was poopy? 

 

He was in too deep to turn back now. Maybe if he just kept to himself and continued quietly cleaning up the toys, Katie wouldn’t notice until it was time to go home, and then Sandra could change him in privacy. 

 

He glanced up again.
 

Katie was still watching him, and he wasn’t quite sure he liked the expression. It was like she was assessing him.

 

In the back of his mind, he knew what it meant. It was the same look Sandra used to give him before she asked if he needed to go potty (whether she suspected he still needed to go or not). Thankfully, she had gotten off his case about that in recent weeks. 

 

He looked back down, attempting a nonchalant, relaxed, and innocent posture/ expression. He hoped the smell wasn’t too bad. Oddly enough, it didn’t bother him anymore. In fact, it was super easy just to ignore it or even forget about it unless someone commented. 

 

He continued picking up the bricks, one by one, the mess further cooling against him, reminding him of his predicament. Before re-experiencing them firsthand, Mike had always assumed that poopy pants/ diapers felt like warm mush. And they did - at least at first.

 

But what most people can’t remember (at least those not among the ranks of the incontinent), is that diapers and some training pants are cut with extra room in the seat, and that once a mess is deposited there, most of it sits away from the skin (unless the wearer is sitting down) and cools to room temperature fairly rapidly. The actual feeling of “being poopy”, in the infantile sense of the term, isn’t so much mushy warmth as it is sticky clamminess. It’s a decidedly babyish feeling because it means you’ve had poop in your pants for more than a few minutes, and that it happened in a garment that is designed to catch it.

 

Mike was on all fours, reaching for a more distant block when he felt a tug at his rear waistband. He whirled his head around to see Katie bending over him, and peering down the back of his pants. He tried to turn away from her, but she was experienced at this, and she held him firmly in place with her other arm. 

 

Katie let his pants go with a snap, and turned him to face her, pushing him back so that he was looking up at her and his bottom was resting on his heels again:

 

“Mike, did you go poopy in your pants?”, she asked gently, but firmly.

 

He looked down without saying anything. As he did, he became aware that he was peeing. He wasn’t even sure how long the stream had been going, but it wasn’t soaking through his shorts yet, so probably not very long. Or maybe it was just a little tinkle. He sometimes did those these days. Those were the hardest to control, because his bladder never got full enough to feel like he needed to go: a sudden gush of warmth into the padding around his crotch was the only indication that his bladder had been filling. His control was definitely slipping. 

 

But there was no time to think about that now because Katie was demanding answers about other, more blushy aspects of his toileting. 

 

“Mike - look at me please. I asked you a question. Did you poop in your pants? Yes or no?”

 

He looked up at her, tears starting to well up in his eyes. It was so unfair! If she hadn’t made him pick up the Duplo, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He never went potty in his pants during outside time (partly because Katie was very diligent about checking him and taking him to the toilet beforehand along with everyone else). 

 

For a moment, he considered lying. But he knew he was caught. She had seen the mess on his backside. There was no getting out of it now.

 

 “Yes Miss Katie”, he mumbled sheepishly, looking back up at her and feeling the stream in the front of his pants dissipate. At least that little problem had stopped. 

 

“Yes. You did. Thank you for not lying to me. But you know you’re supposed to come tell me if you’ve had an accident. So why didn’t you come tell me?”

 

“I didn’t want you to think I was a baby” was Mike’s straightforward reply. 

 

Katie’s faced softened at this familiar but immature response. “Sweetie, having an accident doesn’t make you a baby. The difference between big boys and babies is what happens after. When babies go potty in their pants, they usually don’t tell anyone. In fact that’s the main reason why they have to wear diapers, because diapers hold the tinkle and poop in without making any mess until an adult finds out. But you don’t wear diapers do you? - at least not when you aren’t sleeping?”

 

Mike shook his head “no”. He was glad he could provide such a strong answer to this important question! 

 

“That’s right! You don’t have to wear diapers because when you make pee pee or poopy in your pants you come and tell me or one of the other teachers straight away, don’t you?”

 

Mike hesitated briefly, then nodded in the affirmative. 

 

It wasn’t strictly true. Case in point, today. And it was even worse outside of daycare.
 

In fact, Sandra had actually asked him to stop “making a fuss” about the condition of his pants when she was busy (which seemed to be most of the time) or when they were out and about. He would just go in his training pants and wait for her to change him. 

 

Last week he had broken that new, “no fuss rule” while they were browsing the aisles at Target. In fact, he had demanded that Sandra take him to the toilet for an urgent number 2, and she had begrudgingly complied. But when they got to the family restroom she had refused to remove his overalls, instead sitting him fully clothed on the toilet, and telling him it was up to him whether he left dirty and wet, or clean and dry, but either way his pants weren’t coming off now until after lunch. 

 

Unfortunately, his muscle memory was still strong, even if his toilet training wasn’t, and he’d found it impossible to hold it once she had sat him down on the seat. His sphincter just released, and he started pushing involuntarily, going quite red in the face while Sandra watched, patted his head, and teased him momentarily about what he was doing.
 

Sandra wasn’t satisfied with this level of humiliation though. He was in mid-push when she suddenly grabbed his hands, yanked him off the toilet, and pulled him out the family restroom door, and back into the brightly lit store, keeping a firm grip on one hand as she made a beeline towards the back. 
 

The large turd he had been working on was stuck halfway out of his bottom, and he was unable to pinch it off without stopping, which Sandra of course refused to do. He was forced into an awkward cowboy waddle as he slowly continued to mess his pants while following Sandra through the store. 

 

They had finally come to a stop in the diaper aisle, where Sandra pretended to browse the various brands, refusing to leave until he finished making poopy.

 

The smiling babies on the packages seemed to mock him as he pushed out a second round of much softer poop into the seat of his trainers before also drenching the front - all while maintaining a classic “toddler squat.”  

Sandra had even had to explain to a disapproving young mother that Mike was one of the Littles from the Regression Center, provoking further embarrassment. 

 

Miss Katie wasn’t privy to any of these memories though, and she was still talking about what had happened here, today and with no help from Sandra: 

 

“…If I can’t trust you to tell me when you’re wet or stinky, then I think you need to be wearing diapers when you are here. And I can’t have a Little Helper who wears diapers because that’s not setting a good example for the others. You will need to go to the toddler classroom if you want to start going poopy in your pants without telling a teacher. OK?” 

 

Despite his embarrassment, Mike felt the need to object to this phrasing. “I don’t ‘want to start going poopy in my pants’ - it was an accident! It just came out on its own.”

 

Katie decided to let him hold onto at least some of his dignity for the moment, even though she was pretty sure she had watched him actively push this particular load into his pants. 

 

She simply nodded that she understood, looked at him appraisingly for a moment, then held out her hand, pulling him to his feet, and leading him towards the door while commenting: 

 

“Well, for what it’s worth, you actually have pretty good timing, kiddo. The diaper changing area should be free in the toddler room right now.”

 

Mike held back a sob and clenched his fist with his free hand to avoid putting his thumb in his mouth. As they left the classroom, Katie grabbed a fresh pair of his training pants and a pack of wipes that had appeared conveniently on the cabinet next to the door. 

 

She kept a tight hold on his hand as they left the preschool classroom and turned down the hall. The toddlers and preschoolers had shared outside time, and it was naptime for the infants, so the whole place was uncharacteristically quiet. There was nothing but the sound of their shoes on the floor and the creek of the hinge as they made their way into the darkened toddler classroom. 

 

Miss Julie, the head toddler teacher, was eating an early lunch inside. She looked up and smiled good-naturedly when she saw Mike and Katie. It was immediately obvious why they were visiting, but Katie still felt the need to explain: 

 

“Hi Julie - You remember Mike, my Little Helper, right?…That’s right, Sandra’s little boy, err…husband.  
 

Anyway, Mike had a pretty big accident, and I need to get him cleaned up before outside time is over. Is it OK if we use the changing table really quick?”

 

Julie replied in the affirmative, pointing towards the clock and reminding Katie that she didn’t have long.

 

The diaper changing room was very different to the stark whiteness of the staff bathroom he was more used to being changed in. It was painted in bright colors, and there were no potties or toilets in here, just two large wooden changing tables along one wall. The other wall was dominated by a large picture window, facing out into the main toddler classroom. With the lights on, Miss Julie would be able to see every gory detail of his change from her desk.

 

Above the changing tables were cubbies, each labeled with a child’s name, containing neat stacks of diapers and other changing supplies. 

He shuddered. Was this his fate? Would his name end up on one of the unoccupied cubicles soon?

 

The toddler classroom was ADA compliant, meaning that the changing tables were large enough to accommodate a much larger child with developmental disabilities. Sunny Hills didn’t currently have any special needs clients, but the tables did come in handy when a Little Helper had a big accident. Mike’s calves and ankles would hang off the table if he straightened his legs, but it was otherwise more than adequate to accommodate him.

 

Katie was moving quickly. She had him sit on a low chair that was by the door (apologizing when she saw his facial expression as his bottom contacted the hard seat), and then she knelt down and took off his shoes and socks, catching a fresh whiff of his pants in the process. 

 

“Pee-ew! You might win the prize for biggest stink today, buddy! Let’s clean you up and get you smelling like a big boy again”, said Katie, with a smile and poke to his belly. 

 

The stern-ness was gone from her voice now. She was talking to him like Sandra did when she was babying him. The combination of her soft instructions and the cheerful setting melted any remaining resistance he might have had in a way that felt almost hypnotic. He wanted to be a good boy for Katie during his change. He wanted her to tell him what to do and to make all the decisions right now using that same gentle voice.

 

Katie had him stand back up so she could pull down his shorts and help him step out, leaving Mike standing there in just his heavily soiled and wet training pants. 

 

At this point, Mike kind of wished that he was wearing one of the daytime diapers he was normally opposed to (even on a strictly “just in case” basis). At least they would better hide the evidence of his incontinence. The wet stain in the front in the front of his trainers and the prominent bulge in the seat left nothing to Katie’s imagination. He had clearly done ALL his poopy and tinkles in his pants. There was nothing left for the toilet, and thus no point visiting.

 

Katie opened a small drawer under the table and removed a pair of vinyl gloves, which she put on. She also removed a thin plastic bag and set it at the head of the table. Then she turned back to him. 

 

Mike had expected Katie to make him lie down before removing his training pants, but instead, she knelt again and gingerly pulled the pants down his legs, taking care to avoid skin contact as much as possible. As he stepped out, he was treated to the same unpleasant view as Katie. At least it was fairly firm and well contained. 

 

Strictly speaking, the daycare guidebook instructed her to “shake or scrape” the contents of his soiled pants into a toilet before bagging them up. No one ever did that though. If shit happened in anything other than a diaper at Sunny Hills, it got sent home intact for the parents to dispose of. She wrapped up his poopy trainers in his wet shorts and tied them both into the plastic bag, placing it on the changing table.

 

Standing there, naked from the waist down with a very dirty bottom illuminated by the bright fluorescents was the low point of the whole process for Mike. He started to cry a little as Katie turned back to him to inspect his bottom more closely. She gave him a few quick wipes while he stood there, and then she asked him to hop up on the table so that she could clean him more carefully. 

 

Katie was glad that Sandra had opted for the laser hair removal treatment at the regression center. It made cleanup a lot easier, and seeing a hairy crotch adorned in this mess would be downright weird. She noticed he was getting a little rashy in spots, so when she was finished wiping, she reached up and grabbed a tube of diaper cream from one of the cubicles. She was sure the owner wouldn’t mind sharing. 

 

She removed her gloves, pushed his legs up and back again, and started spreading cream with two fingers down his crack and up to the base of his hairless balls. She watched his face as she did this, hoping he would relax now that the change was almost finished. Applying the sweet smelling cream often had a calming, almost mesmerizing effect on her charges. 

 

But Mike was still visibly upset. In fact, more so than when they had started the change. She lowered his legs down and wiped the cream off her fingers with a spare wipe as she tried to sooth him:

“Mike, sweetie, what’s wrong? It was just an accident. It’s not a big deal. You’re all clean now. It’s like it never happened. That’s the nice thing about getting changed isn’t it?”

 

Mike gave a little nod and a hitching sigh. 

 

She tried a different tack: “I’m not mad about you not telling me about it. We can just try to do better next time, OK?…Accidents happen to everyone don’t they? I’m sure you will do poopies in the potty for me tomorrow, but even if you don’t, I won’t be mad about that either. All I ask is that you come tell me so I can get you changed quickly. Besides, it’s kind of nice getting to spend this one-on-one time together isn’t it?”

 

Mike didn’t respond this time. He just laid there, still visibly upset.

 

She pulled the fresh trainers up his legs and pulled him up to a sitting position, swinging his legs out over the side of the table so that one leg was on either side of her hips. Then she reached up and gently pulled his shirt back down over his belly, finishing with a quick pat to his freshly padded groin. She’d have to find him some clean shorts when they got back to class.

 

She wondered briefly (but not for the first time) where Sandra had found such thick,adult-sized training pants. They were basically pull-on cloth diapers, except the sides did not tear away or snap open (making cleanup for an accident like the one she’d just changed a more delicate process).

 

He definitely needed such a high level of protection. Especially lately. In fact, she wondered if MIke was using the potty at all at home anymore, or if Sandra was just letting him treat the trainers like a diaper? 

 

It certainly seemed to be the latter. She’d been meaning to have a well-rehearsed chat with Sandra about the importance of maintaining consistency between toilet learning/ procedures at home and preschool, but she also knew it was different in Mike’s case since he was enrolled in a program that was actively pushing him towards at least some loss of control. 

 

Sandra had never been straightforward with her about how “young” she intended Mike to go, (the response was always something along the lines of: “We’ll see. I’ll know we’ve gotten there when I see it”).
 

Katie didn’t know what the “it” was, but it was clear to her at least that Mike had regressed beyond a point where she would normally recommend starting potty training. He just wasn’t ready anymore. And she had a professional opinion on the matter. 

 

He was almost never dry now when she checked him or took him to the toilet, and being wet didn’t seem to bother him. He was also wetting more frequently and in smaller amounts. He would wake up soaked after every nap time. All of these were ominous signs in terms of toilet training readiness. The last vestiges of his prior training were the only things keeping him out of the full time diapers game. 

 

And now, just 2 weeks into September, even the kids that were newly graduated to her classroom from the toddler room were outpacing him, and not just in terms of toileting. Today’s tantrum episode was just the latest evidence of a broader trend. She knew that he was finding some of the structured learning activities more difficult now, which was adding to his propensity for frustration and acting out. He was also zoning out more frequently, during which times he was functionally no different from a 2 year old, or maybe even younger. She wasn’t sure if he understood even the most simple instructions or questions at these times. He’d sit there drooling and babbling to himself or smiling up at her adoringly until he snapped back to the present, leaving him disoriented and often a little embarrassed. 

 

Mike would probably be happier and less self conscious if he started helping here, in the toddler classroom, where there were no “accidents” and stinky or wet diapers went unnoticed by everyone except the staff. But she also felt an obligation to both Mike and Sandra to keep him with her for as long as she could. 

 

Because they had a shared history. 

And because taking care of Mike in this way, as he lost his grip on his independent self, was her share of the penance for what had happened between them 6 years ago. 

 

She moved herself closer in to him, her baby bump just barely making contact with his padded crotch as she pulled his head to her chest. She held him like that for a few minutes without saying anything, just rocking him, rubbing his back, and shushing gently as he continued to cry.

She remembered that he had nuzzled into her like this once before, only under decidedly more adult circumstances. 

 

It had only happened once, and Mike had been her first. She was just 20 years old at the time, but already more mature than Mike had been at 26 (or now ever would be). 

 

They had gone to the guest room because Mike wasn’t comfortable in the bed he normally shared with Sandra. He had actually been quite shy and indecisive about the whole thing, which she found irresistible. She took control, putting his hands on her breasts and then shoving them down her pants while she stroked him through his, and later undressing first herself and then him. 

 

She could vividly recall that moment just prior to penetration, as she knelt over him on all fours, her face just inches from his as he thrust his hips upwards trying to make contact with her most sensitive area. His eyes had been so hungry. He wanted her. 

 

At first, it had felt amazing. Better than she had imagined in fact, and she had imagined plenty in her bed, in the bath, and even once in the bathroom of her parents house while Mike stood outside during a dinner party, quietly knocking and telling her through the door that he “needed the toilet, please!” 
 

Unfortunately though, the actual sex was  over almost as soon as it started, and it ended badly. She remembered the feeling of his cum oozing out onto her upper thigh while she dressed in the dark.

 

Other than that, her most vivid memories of what came after were his copious apologies for not pulling out in time, followed by actual tears over betraying Sandra. “The more things change, the more they stay the same”, she thought ruefully as she once again held Mike while he snuffled and cried into her chest about an accident.

 

They had never spoken of that night again. And he had sort of avoided her after that, which had hurt a little. Yes, she had led the briefest of physical affairs (prefaced by a much longer emotional one). But her part In this tale was also one of a broken heart. She had loved Mike. And she had never really been able to show it - not to him, and especially not to Sandra. 

 

Part of her wished she could forget like he had. That would be better. It would be easier. 

 

She continued to rock him gently, still making little shushing noises. They would need to move in a few minutes, but she needed to get him calmed down before that could happen. The last thing she wanted was for some parent to find her leading a crying regressed little down the hallway in his underpants. 

 

“Mike, I can’t help fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, and we can’t stay in here forever. So PLEASE tell me so that I can help make it all better, sweetheart.”

 

And so he did. Sitting there on the toddler changing table, his not-quite-diaper pressed against her belly as she held him like a baby, he told her about something that wasn’t very babyish. Something that made his penis stiffen against her as he talked about it. 

 

“Miss Katie…I mean, Katie…I…I, remember. I remember us. From before.”

 

Katie didn’t respond. She had read in the Little Helpers guidebook that these regressive breaks could happen, especially after an emotional event. It was like one of his zone outs, only in reverse. They weren’t supposed to last long, and the guidebook had given clear instructions on how to deal with them - namely by redirecting the little’s attention to a recent and more “age appropriate” memory. 

 

But for now, she wanted to hear what Mike had to say. She could feel him hardening through his trainers. 

 

“I remembered just now while you were…changing me. Sometimes I can remember things. Things from when I was…big…but they don’t always make sense because I’m also little…and, and…we did something bad, Katie. We…we kissed. I touched you. We…had sex,” he said. 

 

He started sobbing again.

 

Katie pulled him tighter to her, aware that he was fully erect now. She was filled with a curious mixture of care for Mike and horror at the risks of him carrying this memory around and possibly sharing it with others. He couldn’t be trusted with secrets anymore. Especially not this one. 

 

She knew what she had to do. She would have to induce a nuclear-level zone out. Hopefully it would be enough to erase this little episode and the memories that triggered it without inducing a major step change in his regression. She wondered briefly what would happen if she returned Mike to Sandra drooling and unable to form a complete sentence?

It was a risk she’d have to take. She’d need to act fast while she still had his undivided attention (on multiple levels). 
 

Katie composed herself for a moment before starting to speak in her most gentle, nurturing tone of voice. “Oh Mike”, she said, pressing his head firmly to her chest with one hand, the other reaching around to pat his padded bottom. “That was such a long time ago, sweetie. Things are different now, aren’t they?…

“…Everything is going to be OK. It’s good you remember. Because we liked eachother back then didn’t we? We were friends then right? And we still are, just in different ways. I’m friends with all the little boys I look after - even little stinkers like you!”

 

She tickled his sides suddenly as she said this, provoking a small giggle from Mike and a gush of urine into the front of his training pants. 

 

“I know it’s not always easy being little is it? You need someone to look after you all the time now…don’t you sweetheart?…”

 

“…Mmhmm. That must feel so babyish. Having everything done for you, or done to you. It’s hard to be a big boy when everyone treats you like a little baby isn’t it?  

 

Mike shook his head, “yes” feeling her breasts bounce against his face as he did. He liked this feeling of safety with his face hidden in Katie’s soft shirt. He was calmer now. Katie was so nice. She was rubbing her fingers up and down his back in a way that gave him little shivers down his spine. 

 

“Although, sometimes you do things that make people think you are a little boy who needs to be treated just like a baby? Isn’t that right, Mike? Do you do baby things sometimes?”

 

Without thinking about it, Mike nodded and then rattled off a short list of behaviors that Katie agreed were indeed very babyish. 
 

He wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about telling Katie about these things. Besides, she had witnessed a lot of them herself

 

“And what about your thoughts, sweetie? Do you sometimes think like a baby? Is that maybe why you made a poopy in your pants right in front of me today? Did you forget you weren’t wearing a diaper?” 

 

Mike nodded. He didn’t care if Miss Katie knew that. In fact, it sort of justified it in some ways. 

 

“I thought so. That’s OK. I don’t mind. You can be as babyish as you want when you are with me. I won’t tell anyone. It can be our little secret.” 

 

She punctuated this last statement with another little tickle to his sides. Mike smiled and nodded, his face still buried in her chest. 

 

Her tone was quieter now, almost a whisper into his ear as if she were telling him the most important of secrets. “Besides, I have to confess that I think you’re much cuter like this, kiddo. I love the time we get to spend together. I even like changing your wet and dirty diapers!”

 

Mike decided not to correct her on the difference between training pants and diapers. He was starting to feel very contented and warm in her arms. He hadn’t even noticed that his erection had softened. 

 

He relaxed more fully against her, sighing and smelling that sweet perfume she wore. He still couldn’t quite place it, but he had decided a while ago that it smelled most like pancakes. With syrup. Syrupy pancakes that Miss Katie had cut up for him. Cut up, syrupy pancakes she was feeding him in a highchair in the kitchen while she gently teased him about how sticky his face and fingers were…

 

He snapped himself back with a jerk of his head. He had no idea how much time had passed, but it didn’t matter. Miss Katie just pulled him back firmly into her and told him to be a good boy and listen to her story. 

 

And as she spoke, he started to drift again, finding that he could remember every detail so vividly just after she spoke about it. It was as if she were unlocking new memories in his mind. 

 

Katie told him the story of his poopy accident at the park last week. Except in this story, he wasn’t with Sandra. He was with Katie.
 

And he was little. And not just in his head. His body too. He was wearing overalls, a red tee shirt, and Velcro shoes that lit up when he walked. 

 

Under his overalls, he was wearing something crinkly and soft. Not as thick as a diaper though, because he was almost too big for daytime diapers wasn’t he? Yes everyone could see that, and Mike could see it too. 

 

Could he remember what he was wearing under his overalls? That’s right! It was his pull up. And it wasn’t a dry pull up was it? No, it was all puffy and soggy because he had done a big tinkle in it on the car ride to the park.
 

Miss Katie had noticed he was wet when she got him out of his car seat, but there were no leaks, so it was OK. Because pull ups were just like diapers once you wet in them, weren’t they? Miss Katie could just change him later, and if he needed to do more potty before then, he could just go in his pull up.
 

Mike was more than happy to agree to this plan - changes were boring and they had just gotten there. 

 

Katie reminded him all about how he had made friends with some other babies in the park, and how they were all playing so nicely together in the sandbox (or more accurately, playing alongside eachother). He remembered how cute he looked, playing in his little overall outfit among his new friends. The other mommies were nice too.

 

Then she reminded him how one of those other moms had called her attention to his posture and body language as he tensed and started to push. Mike clearly remembered doing that, and how it felt as the mess pushed into his pull-up. 

 

And then Katie confessed that she had decided to just let him finish without trying to intervene. Without reminding him that he was a big boy. And without telling him that she didn’t have any spare pull ups left to put on him. 

 

Because it was probably too late already wasn’t it? And because he had also decided that he didn’t need to be a big boy. At least not all the time, right? 

 

In fact, they had invented something called the “baby game” that day.
 

Did he remember the baby game? Did he remember the rules? That’s right! All you had to do was act and think like a baby! You had to do both to make it work. And it turned out Mike was very good at both. 

 

He must have been playing it already when he dirtied his pants in the sandbox, hadn’t he?  Yes, and that was OK. Because it was just a game wasn’t it? And Miss Katie had everything she needed to help him play the game correctly, didn’t she? 

 

Katie helped Mike remember how she had lifted him out of the sandbox and sniffed his bottom before carrying him on her hip over to the park bench. He remembered the feeling of his soggy crotch pressing against her hip while the mush in his pants spread further across his bum. 
 

She had sat him down next to the other mommy she had been talking to while she readied his changing supplies. She reminded him that he hadn’t felt shy at all, even though the other mommy could probably smell his stinky bottom. Because she knew he was playing the baby game too. 

 

Mike smiled at this. That other mommy had been so nice hadn’t she? He remembered giggling while she talked to him, before he was whisked off the bench and laid on a changing mat right there in the grass in front of Katie’s spot. 

 

Katie began describing the details of the change in great detail now, interspersing her narrative with questions: 

 

Did he remember how it felt when she pulled off his overalls leaving him lying there in just a soiled and wet pull up? 

 

Did he remember how good it felt when she pushed his legs back to wipe him? 

 

Could he remember what the wipes smelled like? 

 

Did he remember what his bare legs looked like, up in the air, and pointing towards the clouds? 

 

Did he remember sucking his fingers and smiling up at her when she was putting diaper cream on him? 

 

He had been nodding along as she fired off all these questions, but now they combined into such a vivid mental image that it completely overwhelmed his thoughts. He was flooded with dopamine and feelings of pure bliss snd contentment. It was like an orgasm, only entirely cerebral. He was no longer sure if this was happening now or if it was still just a memory.
 

He moaned softly while Katie rocked him and continued whispering soft words he couldn’t quite make out anymore. 

 

Katie handed him a diaper to hold while she balled up his dirty pull up and cleaned the cream off her hands with a spare wipe. He remembered turning it over in his hands to see Mickey smiling at him from the front. He pressed it to his nose. It smelled good. 

 

He remembered Katie asking in a singsong voice if she could borrow his diaper for a minute and smiling back at her as he handed it back to her like a good boy. 

 

He remembered her lifting his legs and sliding the diaper under him and how it felt when she lowered him onto it.
 

But instead of pulling it up right away, Katie had instead paused and crawled forward over him on all fours, bringing her face down and level with his as he lay half naked underneath her, the crisp, clean diaper sticking up from between his bare legs. 

 

She had looked intently into his eyes as she spoke in a more serious tone, and it was so real - so intense - like she was looking into his eyes right now.
 

But that was impossible because he was at the park with her. Having his diaper changed. 

 

“Mike, sweetheart, before I put this diaper on you, I need to know if you can keep it a secret? Because it’s just for when we are playing the baby game. If Sandra or the other teachers at daycare found out that I put a diaper on you, they might think that you need to wear them all the time. And then you would be a baby for real, wouldn’t you? And we don’t want that do we? No, we don’t.”

 

“So, if you want to keep playing the baby game, then this diaper has to be our little secret. And if Sandra asks about it, you definitely can’t tell her that I had to put a diaper on you because you went stinky in your pants, OK?”

 

Mike nodded slowly and solemnly, prompting Katie to smile and tap his nose before reaching down and taping his diaper snugly around him. She finished with a quick pat to his crotch, declaring him her clean and dry little helper. 

 

Mike just beamed at her, unable to avert his eyes from her face. He knew there was something special and secret about Katie, but he hadn’t quite been able to remember what it was until now.

But that was OK, because Miss Katie remembered, and she took care of everything. All he had to do was keep their baby game secret. He could do that - at least until he decided to start playing the baby game with Sandra.

 

Katie bent down and kissed him on the forehead, telling him what a good boy he was and giving his sides another little tickle. He could hear himself laughing and giggling as she did so…

 

And then he was back. Still sitting on the changing table in just a tee shirt and hid trainers, his padded crotch still pressed against Katie’s front and his legs on either side of her hips. And she was still tickling him mercilessly while kissing him all over his face and expressing delight that she had found her happy little boy again. 

 

She released him from her embrace, reached up and grabbed a tissue from the shelf above, and held it over his nose, instructing him to blow. Mike tried, but for some reason he couldn’t work out how to do it. He looked up at Katie with a bewildered expression, but she just laughed and used the old squeeze and pull technique. 

 

She helped him down off the changing table, took his hand, and led him back to her classroom while he prattled on about what they were going to do for the rest of the day and how much he liked being her Little Helper. 

 

Because they liked each other. And they had a special secret that was just between the two of them. And no one could take that away from either of them. Ever.

[Pierry Louys]

Awwww so cute this story !

Sad that is the last part 

[Mike D]

On 9/13/2022 at 11:19 AM, Pierry Louys said:

Awwww so cute this story !

Sad that is the last part 

It probably won’t be the last time we see Katie. She’s available for babysitting at home too. And maybe a trip to the playplace at the mall.

[littleboyiceland]

These stories are really well written. Here’s hoping for more scenes. You’re a brilliant writer Mike!

[LilKevin]

I really like the characters you have created here.  You have got Mike teetering at a place where part of me just wants him to fall forever into diapers but the teetering on the edge is just so stimulating that I don’t want it to end.

I look forward to reading more.

[Zak]

This is a lovely trilogy, definitely one of my all-time favorites.

You’re a fantastic writer, and not just because this pushes some of my buttons really well (like the soft domme and unknowing untraining) - the events and imagery are never repetitive, the pace feels natural, and all of the characters have plenty of depth to them. 

I very much look forward to more of your stories if you decide to make more ❤️

[007specialk]

Wow I hope you write more love your style how awesome. I felt like I was their in the story with Mike and Katie..... Thank you...