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[destinedfordiaperstories]

My New Babysitter, Pt 8

Maddie squeezes my hand as I desperately look anywhere but at her. I can’t bear looking at her, not as my body forces me to fill my diaper in front of the only girl I’ve ever kissed. Every grunt that forces itself out of my mouth is like a punch to the gut from Mike Tyson.

A hand finds its way to my face, turning my head to face Maddie. I don’t fight it despite my deep humiliation. I’m terrified of what I’ll see in Maddie’s eyes as I helplessly fill my diaper next to her, strapped in the ferris wheel, unable to flee in shame.

 “Jack, look at me,” Maddie urges, both authority and tenderness in her voice, “you don’t have to be embarrassed! You really think I didn’t know this would happen eventually? This won’t even be the first messy diaper of yours I changed, silly!”

I meekly look up, meeting her gaze. Her smile is disarming.

“Thank you, sweetie. Now, I want you to push, get all those stinkies out for Maddie, okay?”

I hesitantly nod my head.

“No, sweetie,” she says sternly, “I want you to say, ‘yes, Maddie.’”

I stare deeper into her eyes. Her voice was stern, but her eyes were still warm and comforting.

“…Yes, Maddie.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

I obediently push, partly to get this humiliation over with, partly because listening to Maddie feels like the right thing to do. We sit silently for the next few minutes as I finish filling my diaper.

“All done, Jack?” she asks as my grunts cease.

“Y-yes, Maddie…”

“Good boy, now turn around so I can inspect the damage.”

I do as I’m told. The back of my shirt is lifted up before my diaper is pulled back.

“You’re such a big stinker!” Maddie chides, “you sure can fill a diaper!”

I shiver in embarrassment, hoping none of our friends saw or heard what had happened—and what Maddie said, way too loud for my comfort.

“Oh, calm down, Jack. I’ll get you cleaned up as soon as we get off the ride!”

“O-okay, Maddie. It’s just—I’m sorry for ruining the moment like this…” I mutter.

“You didn’t ruin the moment! You’re in diapers. You can’t control when you go. It happens. It’s not a shock to me, Jack. I expect you to fill your diapers.”

“I know, but…it’s not how I imagined my first kiss to go!”

“Awwww, I knew you were inexperienced, but I didn’t think this was your first kiss! But don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll make it up to you once we get you out of that messy diaper! Sound good?”

My stomach flutters again. I didn’t blow my chances!

The ferris wheel slows to a stop. We’re the last ones off, and we walk to catch up with the group.

Olivia is smiling broadly, ready to burst in excitement. “Well, how was the ride you two?”

I feel the gaze of everyone in the group, knowing smiles on their faces.

“Look, even Maddie’s blushing!” Jessica teases, “I wonder why? I could have sworn I saw you two all snuggled up close! Were you just telling secrets or do you have something to share?”

“Nope,” Maddie answers innocently, “just two friends enjoying the ride. Right, Jack?”

Jessica laughs. “Interesting, I could have sworn I saw some kissing!”

Before either Maddie or I could answer, I saw Olivia’s face scrunch up. “Wait, something smells here—and I’m not talking about what did or did not happen between you two!”

Olivia marches over to me, pulling the back of my diaper and peeking into it. “I thought so!”

My face must have been beet red. I hate getting checked so openly in front of everyone—especially when I need a change this bad.

“Okay, Jack, time for another trip to the changing table!” Olivia says.

“No, I got this, Liv! You take a few minutes off and spend some time with Ryan! I don’t mind!” Maddie says, reaching out for the diaper bag.

“Oh, all right. The changing tables are over there,” Olivia adds, pointing in its direction, “I’ll let you know where to meet us!”

Maddie grabs my hand, “stay close to me, you little stinker! I don’t want you wandering off!”

I hear the girls giggle as Maddie pulls me away.

The same attendant as before is there guarding the changing tables. He looks at me, then Maddie, a smile growing on his face. “How many babysitters do you have? You must be pretty popular! Or really busy filling your diapers because it hasn’t been very long!”

Maddie pulls my hand past him, ignoring his laughing.

“Lay down, Jack,” Maddie says as she closes the door.

I dutifully get in position as Maddie stands between my legs, pulling down my shorts. I hate this position, even more so when the woman changing my messy diaper is someone I kissed minutes ago.

Maddie rips open the tabs, opening up my diaper. I shrink as the smell fills the room even more than before.

“Wow, so stinky, sweetie!” Maddie coos as she grabs a handful of wipes and gets to work.

I shiver as Maddie wipes me…down there. Maddie giggles.

“Oh, Jack, I can see you’re excited, but you didn’t shiver because the wipe was cold, did you?” she says, conspiratorially.

I look away, unable to answer her. She knows. What can I even say to her?

“It’s okay, Jack! I’d be disappointed if you didn’t react like that! Unlike you, this wasn’t my first kiss. I know what goes on down there after I kiss a boy. Don’t be embarrassed!”

“I-I-I…” I stammer, absolutely flummoxed by her comment.

“Legs up, Jack,” she says. I meekly comply, happy for the distraction.

Nothing is said for the next minute or two—maybe more. To be honest, I have no idea how long the silence lasted. Each second felt like an eternity.

Maddie finally finishes wiping, inspecting her handiwork. Satisfied, she reaches into my diaper bag, rummaging through the contents.

“Oh good, you have some baby oil!” she exclaimed.

I haven’t used baby oil in forever. Why does she want to use it now?

She drips a generous amount of oil onto my skin. She smiles, almost deviously, down at me.

She begins rubbing in the oil, slowly. Methodically. Teasingly. I can barely think straight.

Just before she touches my, well, you know, she stops, looking into my eyes. “Is there anything you want to ask me, Jack?”

It takes me a second to comprehend what she said. I was so lost in anticipation. “I, uhhh…”

“You what, Jack? Do you want me to keep going?”

“Y-yes, please, Maddie!” I wheeze, desperate for more.

“Good boy. I know you do. Except, that’s not what I wanted you to ask, not at all. Surely you want to see me again, Jack? You do, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, Maddie…”

“Well, then ask me out, silly boy!”

“W-will you g-go out with me, Maddie?”

“Awww, I’d thought you’d never ask, Jack! Of course I will!” she shouts, “I’d love to go out with you!”

I did it! I asked Maddie out, and she said YES!

“Now…where were we?” Maddie says innocently, staring at me expectantly.

“You..umm…well…” I stammer.

“That’s right!” she snaps, “you need me to tape up this diaper! Duh!”

Before I even register what had happened, Maddie finishes the diaper change, pulling my jeans back up.

“There, how’s that diaper feel, Jack?”

“Good, thank you,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment as I follow her back to the group.

“All clean, Jack?” Olivia asks as she sees us.

“Clean as a whistle, Liv!” Maddie answers for me.

“Good! Well, it���s getting late, and I promised your Mom I’d have you back in bed at a reasonable hour, Jack”

I do my best to ignore the girls’ giggling at hearing that. I hate that my Mom still controls my bedtime—and that they all know it.

“Already? Ugh,” Maddie says disappointedly, “well, don’t think I’m letting you leave without my number, Jack.”

More giggling. I stand there, unsure what to do. Luckily, Maddie walks over to me, grabbing my phone out of my pocket putting it up to my face to unlock it. “Call me, Jack,” she says after she adds her number, sliding my phone back into my pocket.

“I-I will, Maddie,” I say over the incessant giggling.

The second we get into the car, Olivia turns to me, grinning ear to ear.

“Jack! Tell me everything!”

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Your Saving Grace, Ch. 4

This chapter was almost entirely written by the exceedingly talented @diapergirlstories! Without him this might have been published weeks later and by me, a less talented writer. So enjoy it!

Prologue

“Tag, you're it!”

“Hey, no fair!” you yell, trying to catch the speedy toddler.

“You can’t catch me!” she taunts as you waddle as fast as your little legs can go.

Grace watches from the park bench, chatting happily with her best friend. She wishes she could freeze this moment in time. The toddler you’re failing to catch up is her best friend’s daughter.

It took a few years, but your new playmate is finally the same size as you. You were there for it all—she was born after your regression.

Neither of you mind the smells coming from your diapers. It doesn’t matter; all that matters is the game of tag. You follow her down the slide, not caring about the mess smushing against your diaper.

Just as you start catching up to her, you’re unceremoniously picked up. Grace brings your diapered bum to her nose. “I think someone has a messy diaper!” You watch your friend receive the same treatment.

As you’re changed on a park table next to her, you know the fun won’t last forever. Her mom is already talking about potty training. She may be growing up, but you’re not. You’ll be playing at the park long after her.

But for now, you have your best friend. As soon as Mommy changes your diaper you’ll get to play again. And that’s all that matters.

Chapter Four

The evening sun wanders through the window, waking you in your crib. You lay there, listening to the breeze gently swaying the tree branches. The lingering smell of your new nursey renews the dread you’d fallen asleep to. Slowly sitting up, you feel the same sensation you’d felt earlier after your feeding—bulky warmth between your legs.

It had been your first wet diaper. Anger and shame had filled you as you impetuously, and futilely, tried to defend your dignity, or what still remained. Tears dripping and face flushed, Grace had only sighed and effortlessly picked you up before taking you to your changing table, taping you into a fresh Luvs diaper despite your ineffectual resistance.

You felt the tears returning as you kneaded the wet diaper between your legs. Worse, the tiny bump beneath it. It had been the staple of your masculinity; now it was indiscernible from that of a toddler.

“Wakey wakey, sleepy…what’s wrong, baby?”

You considered, and decided against, announcing that you were wet. Although it mattered little.

“Awww, don’t worry sweetie. It’s just a wet diapie. C’mon, let’s get you changed.”

You remained speechless as she, again, lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the changing table yet again.

On your back, you frowned angrily at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge the ever-present fact that this was now your life. Gone were the dignities and freedoms that you’d lived with for so long, wishing you hadn’t taken them for granted.

You’d have cherished every second of your adulthood—and its privileges—had you known it was all borrowed time.

“… isn’t that exciting!?”

You snapped back to reality.

“Waah?” you asked, realizing too late that your paci still occupied your mouth.

“Aunt Lexye! She’s coming over this evening! She wants to see how you’re doing!”

Craning your neck to look at Grace, you stared blankly. You didn’t have an aunt Lexye, at least not that you knew of. And your aunt Jan lived halfway across the country.

Grace continued changing you, unphased by your confusion.

“Lexye?” you muffled, still forgetting the paci in your mouth.

“Yes, sweetie. She said she’d be like an aunt to you now. Isn’t that sweet?”

Your eyes grew wide. Surely not Lexye from work. No… no no no no.

“She’ll be over in about an hour or so. And she’s bringing her little niece so you’ll have a friend to play with!”

You sit up suddenly, spitting out your pacifier all in one demonstrative motion.

“She’s not my Aunt, Grace! She’s my co-worker!”

“Was, sweetie. Was. Remember, you don’t work there anymore. And she just got promoted to CFO, too. Isn’t that great!”

This was all too much. Despite being happily married to Grace, Lexye had always been a sight for sore eyes in the office. Young, smart, enthusiastic, and undeniably beautiful. You’d always pinned for her approval as it was met with innocuous, but dangerous, flirtation.

She couldn’t see you like…this. You silently peered down at yourself, the Luvs emblem staring back at you below your Barney t-shirt. There was nothing you could do. You were trapped. Looking, feeling, even smelling like a toddler—and, even more humiliating, treated as one.

“Now. Let’s get that belly of yours full of some yummy milk!”

Tired and overwhelmed, Grace lifted you onto her hip, your legs and arms hanging limply knowing what was coming.

Your mind continued to swirl over the next hour—a perpetual ping pong train-of-thought between your reality and everyone else’s. Lexye was CFO. The position you’d been gunning for the last five years. You knew all the perks that came with it. The money, the power, the title. All hers now.

And you were here, lying on a playmat, idly pretending to play with your toys. All in the Luvs diaper Grace changed you into. A diaper you now realized was wet.

Every car that passed outside brought a new wave of dread. The clock was ticking, and you were running out of time. What would she say? Would she make fun of you? Was she really bringing her niece?

“Sweetie, she’s here!” Grace announced abruptly.

You heard two car doors shut followed by distant voices coming closer, one notably younger.

“Can we really play together?” you heard the younger voice ask enthusiastically.

“Of course you can, silly!”

It was definitely Lexye. You could hear the smile in her voice.  

Wait, play?

“Lexye!” Grace shouted excitedly before welcoming her with an embrace.

You could do nothing but stare. Her olive skin and perfectly white teeth were only outmatched by her silky blonde hair, elegantly swaying as she returned the Grace’s embrace.  

Their salutations faded as you continued to watch, failing to notice the supposed niece walking in your direction.

“Hi my name’s Annie and you’re Chris an an an my Aunt Lexye said we could play because because she said that youra kid too an an…”

Ignoring young Annie’s childish stutters, you watched as Lexye and Grace continued to converse. The two most beautiful women you knew in the same room as you. For a fleeting moment, the nightmare that was your reality faded away.

You confidently gathered yourself to stand. You’d walk right up to Lexye and prove to her that you weren’t some baby. No, you were an adult; a man. This was all a big misunderstanding. She’d see. She’d compliment you for battling this adversity head-on; winning despite the odds!

Thud!

Suddenly you were face down on the carpet.

“Oh sweetie! I told you not to try to walk yet!”

Grace rushed over, Lexye in tow, lifting you to her hip.

You felt the emotions welling up inside you, tears obscuring your vision. Your sobs erupted out of you, uncontrollable.

“Oh baby, it’s okay. No need to cry! Grace is here,” Grace cooed while gently bouncing you on her hip.

You continued to cry, choosing to ignore the utterly pathetic show you were displaying in front of Lexye. You could see her staring at you, clueless as to how to respond.

“Hmm, do you already need a fresh diaper?” Grace quietly questioned to herself, peering over your shouldering and pulling the waist band of your diaper.

“NO!” You managed to say through your wails.

“I’m not some dumb baby!” you demanded, attempting to defend whatever dignity that you may have left.

“Of course you aren’t, sweetie. Shhh it’s all gonna be okay.”

Grace’s gentle touch and soothing voice slowly calmed you; your tears subsiding. Your splotchy red cheeks were the only remaining vestige of your regretful outburst.

“How about we let them go play while we catch up over a glass of chard,” Lexye suggested, motioning in Annie’s direction.

“Ugh! Yes. I have the perfect bottle chilling in the fridge.”

Grace slowly knelt down, depositing you on the floor before departing for the kitchen. You continued to drown out Annie’s voice as you watched on, ruminating.

Here, you realized, was the space between the adults table and the kids table. The manner in which both Grace and Lexye were so casual about the loss of your adulthood startled you. Their nonchalance made you feel as though they’d always expected you to be this way. Just another day playing mommy to husband.

“Come onnnn! Let’s go!” Annie repeated before grabbing your arm, forcing you to a fast-paced crawl to catch up. You let out a frustrated sigh as you felt the front of your diaper warming.

Eventually you settled into playing Legos, again choosing not to engage Annie’s incoherent babbling and instead choosing to eavesdrop on Grace and Lexye’s conversation.

“So who’s this new boy of yours I hear your with?” Grace asked, voice dropping an octave to relay the mischievousness of her question.

You rolled your eyes. Lexye chose not to date anyone, something you always admired. She was too ambitions for something as trivial as dating. Secretly, you’d always hoped it was because she liked you.

“Ohhh that’s right! I forgot I haven’t introduced you guys to him. His name’s Jack.”

At this, you turned to see Lexye handing Grace her phone, presumably to show her a photo. You watched as Grace audibly gasped, continuing to stare intently at the photo before her.

“Mmmm, I bet you’re having some fun with that.” Grace responded, eyes remaining fixed on the apparent photo.

Lexye let out a closed-mouth chuckle to Grace’s insinuation, appearing to confirm the answer to Grace’s statement.

You continued to stare as Lexye leaned forward to retrieve her phone. The top hem of a lacy pink thong suddenly peaking above the waist band of her tight jeans.

Again, you felt your diaper get warm.

As the laughter subsided, you quickly looked away as you felt their gaze turning towards you.  

“Gosh…” You heard Lexye say quietly.

“… he really does look like a little kid.”

You felt your blood pressure rise. No, you will not be seen as some petulant little kid!

You begin to rise to your knees, choosing not to repeat your earlier misfortune. You’d stand up for yourself. You show them that you weren’t what they thought you were.

“NO! I DO NOT!” you shouted, voice many octives higher than it used to be, only to be met with giggles from both Lexye and Annie.

You begin to shuffle awkwardly towards them, continuing to berate them for seeing you as nothing more than a child.

“I’m the man of this house and I will not be treated like this!” you exclaimed as you drew nearer to them. You felt as though your tongue lashing was working as you watched their expressions of mirth turn to silent concern.

Then, you stopped. Realizing suddenly that you hadn’t planned an endgame to your silly tirade. Grace suddenly wore a condescending frown on her face, furthering your rage. You were seething with anger before you watched her face contort into an inquisitive crinkled nose.

“Sweetie, do you need your diaper changed?”

This was not what you were expecting. Of course you didn’t. Of course you’d know if you did... that!

“No! It was…it was her!” you furiously pointed in Annie’s direction only to find her giggling.

“See! It was her! I smelled it a while ago!”

Suddenly, your legs gave out, landing on your diapered bottom.

“… no…” you muttered quietly to yourself.

“Oh, sweetheart. Annie’s been potty trained for over a year now,” Grace said as you stood from her seat.

You could hear Lexye fighting to hold back her mirth as you writhed in defeat.

“It’s not funny, Lexye! I’m not a baby! I swear!” you raged, realizing too late your high pitched tone.

“Could’ve fooled me, bud. Especially throwing a tantrum like that. Look, you just have to accept this is who you are now.”

Lexye’s words cut through you. Deeply. You started to mount another defense before Grace re-entered the room; changing supplies in hand.

“No! Please! Not here!” you whined to Grace. But your demands were casually brushed away.

She plucked your pacifier in your mouth, muting any attempt to defend yourself.

“That’s enough, mister. Now lay back and be still.”

No, you wouldn’t let Grace change you here like this, in the middle of the room, like an actual baby. You wriggled and squirmed, fighting of Grace’s hands.

“NO, I WON'T LET YOU!” you shriek.

Grace only laughs, grabbing your thrashing legs with one hand, effortlessly forcing you into submission.

“NO! STOP! I don’t want to be changed!” you continue to scream, fuming at how easy your body was subdued. Grace continued with the diaper change, unaffected by your tantrum.

Lexye’s sudden gasp caught Grace by surprise, causing her to flinch.

“What?” Grace questioned, turning towards a stunned Lexye.

Lexye looked on with quiet curiosity and equal disgust. Grace could only shrug in response.

“It looks like it’s…trying to hide or something,” Lexye blurted.

“Oh cut it out, Lexye. He can’t help it.”

Her statement stung, but equally birthed your own curiosity. Craning your neck forward, you caught a glimpse—it was even worse than you’d feared. There, between your legs, was a tiny nub. A relic of your former manhood.  

You sighed as you returned your head to the carpeted floor beneath you. You chose to tune out the remaining conversation that ensued between Grace and Lexye, hoping the floor would swallow you whole and spare you from this new level of unbearable hell, but to no avail.

You were back on Grace’s hip. Your face tucked in the crevice of her neck, attempting to hide as Grace said goodbye to Lexye and Annie.

As they left, Grace shouted to Lexye one last time as she before shutting the door.

“Don’t have too much fun with Jake tonight! But if you do, I better get the details, girly!”

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Started to struggle with a similar problem and someone sent me a link to your story Sammy's Little Problem. I found the story very touching and its helped me deal with a lot of things changing at once. I wanted so say thank you much for writing such a heart warming story!

I was also wondering if there will be any more chapters?

Thank you sir for making a positive difference in my life.

I'm so glad to hear it helped you! I love when I hear things like that, especially for this story! It's my personal favorite story I write!

And yes, there will definitely be more chapters! I just took a little break from it to decide where I wanted to go from here and make sure I keep putting the same amount of love and care into it!

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Your Saving Grace, Ch. 3

Prologue

A sudden bump startles you awake, though your eyes and body remain heavy with fatigue. You don’t know where you are or what’s happening, though you feel you’re moving.

Your mind is hazy, sluggish. You vaguely feel as if you’re on a roller coaster, as you think you’re strapped into your seat. You have no memory of getting here or why you’re here, riding a roller coaster.

With a monumental effort to fight off the overwhelming urge to return to sleep, that quiet, dreamless place you emerged from, you slowly open your eyes. It’s dark, you can barely make out any details. It’s not a roller coaster. It’s a car.

You’re not sure if you’re awake or dreaming, especially as you look down at your restraints. You don’t see your usual body. No, it seems like a toddler’s, strapped into a car seat, poofy diaper unabashedly poking out.

You can’t see who is driving, but you assume it’s your Mommy. This must be a dream or a memory long since forgotten from your childhood.

Your eyes feel heavy again. You’re losing the battle to stay awake. You’ll laugh about this with Grace when you wake up—telling her about your strange dream. You let yourself drift off again.

Chapter Three

You feel yourself lifted by your feet. Something large is grabbing you, pulling your legs upward. It’s a foreign, unnatural feeling. What’s happening?

Something cold is rubbing between your legs and butt. You shiver and try to kick your legs to no avail. Whatever is holding you is too strong.

You fight your heavy eyes to look at what’s happening to you. As you try, bright light floods your eyes, forcing you to shut them. You try again, same thing.

You take stock of your body. Something is in your mouth. You’re instinctively sucking on it. Fear starts growing in your mind. Are you being held prisoner, bound and gagged?

You feel another round of rubbing. It’s cold and uncomfortable. On and on it happens. It pauses. You hear crinkling. You feel yourself being lowered down, your body lying flat. There is something under you. It is padded and thick under you.

Something is sprinkled on you. Seconds later, you feel a…no, that can’t be right? A hand? It’s far too big to be a hand. But as it rubs the powder in, you know it is a hand, however impossible it must be.

The same hand wraps around your legs before you’re once again lifted into the air by your legs. More powder is applied before its rubbed in. Who is this massive person so easily handling you?

You’re returned to the ground. Despite your terror of what you’ll find, you try to open your eyes again. This time, your eyes are better prepared for the light, though details are still hard to see. What you can tell, though, is whoever is touching you is a woman—a large woman. She towers over you.

The padding you lay on is pulled upward to your stomach, forcing your legs apart. You hear Velcro ripping before the padding is secured to your left side. Then to your right. Whatever it is, it's tightly secured to you.

You try to focus on the giant woman in front of you. You meet her eyes as a massive smile flashes across her face.

“Good morning! Did I wake you? I hoped to have you in a fresh diaper before you woke up! How are you feeling, baby?”

That voice was definitely Grace. But how was she so big?

“G-gwace?” you squeaked, started by the high-pitched sound of your voice, adding to your fear and confusion.

“Yes, baby, it’s me, Grace! I’m here!”

“What-what’s happening to me?” you whimper.

“Awww, it’s okay, baby. Everything is okay! You must be confused, that’s all. You’re home with me, Chris. Your procedure went perfectly, no problems at all!”

Everything comes flooding back. The virus, the procedure, last night. Despite understanding what’s happening, the terror doesn’t recede. If anything, it’s intensified.

You understand why Grace is handling you so easily. You’ve shrunk down to who knows how small. This wasn’t a dream—you wouldn’t wake up a full-sized adult.

You feel whatever is in your mouth pulled out. Grace leans over you, smiling.

“I know it’s scary, baby. But it’s okay.” She picks you up. You feel her strength. She picked you up with little effort. You’re put on her hip, face resting on her neck.

As your eyes fully adjust, you watch as she carries you downstairs from your nursery, sitting on the couch. She sits you next to her.

You look at your body. You realize you’re wearing nothing but a baby diaper. But that’s the least of your concerns. You put your short, stubby hands in front of your face, terrified at their size. Your legs are no bigger. You must be tiny!

Grace tickles your belly. You laugh despite your fear.

“Do you want to talk about it, Chris? I think you’re big enough to talk, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you say, once again shuddering at the pitch of your voice.

“Okay, good. Well, according to Dr. Gooding, you shrunk down somewhere around a two to three-year-old. Toddler size, essentially. So you should be able to walk. Isn’t that great?”

Great is hardly the word you’d use. But at least you weren’t shrunk down to a baby. Still, “toddler” echoed in your head. You’re the size of a toddler.

Tears well in your eyes. You can’t be a toddler. You’re a man. You’re an adult. Not a toddler.

Grace notices your tears, “oh, baby, don’t cry! It could have been so much worse! You could have been so small you couldn’t walk or talk! This is so much better! I was so scared I wouldn’t be able to talk to you again!”

“I don’t want to be a toddler!” you shriek, “I want my old body back!”

Grace’s hands wrap around you, pulling you up to her. She rests your face on her breasts, massive compared to your head. “Shhh, shhh,” Grace coos, “I got you, baby. You can let it all out. It’s okay to cry, Chris.”

You don’t even care your cries are indistinguishable from a baby. You couldn’t stop crying even if you were. Crying feels good.

As you wail, you feel Grace stand up, gently rocking and bouncing you on her hip. She kisses your forehead. She’s whispering something, but you can’t make out what she’s saying, too consumed in your wailing.

After what may have been a few minutes—or a few years—you begin to calm down. Your cries grow softer before turning into more of a gurgling sob. Grace wipes your face with a tissue.

“Are you feeling better, Chris? That was a good cry, huh? Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You look up into her eyes, tears still distorting her face, “’M sorry, Grace,” you mutter dejectedly.

“You have nothing to apologize for, baby. You hear me? Nothing. You just woke up to a new body and a new world. Who wouldn’t cry in that situation?”

“I-I guess so.”

“I know so, sweetie. Now, do you have any questions? I’m sure your mind must be swirling with them!”

Grace’s hand shifts under you, crinkling your diaper. “Do I really need to w-wear d-diapers, Grace?”

“I think so, at least for now. Maybe we can eventually potty train you, but for now, you won’t have any control. But you have nothing to be ashamed about. Diapers are nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ll change your diapers forever if I need to!”

As much as the thought of wearing diapers terrifies you, you cling to the hope you might be able to potty train, however humiliating that would be. Anything to stay out of diapers. “Okay, I guess that’s fine. When can I try potty training?”

“Why don’t we wait a few days and see how you adjust before we worry about that?”

“Can I see if I can walk?”

“Not today, baby. Dr. Gooding said you need to wait at least 48 hours before you try. Your body went through a lot last night. It needs a few days to recover and heal.”

Of course not, you think piteously.

“Are you hungry?”

As she says it, you realize you’re starving. “Yeah, I’m starving!”

“Okay, I’ll grab you something from the kitchen!” Grace says, walking over to some kind of device.

“W-what’s that, Grace?” you ask as she starts lowering you.

“It’s a baby walker. It will help strengthen your legs while supporting you. And it will keep you out of trouble while I’m in the kitchen.”

“I’m not a baby, Grace! What kind of trouble will I get into? I don’t need that!”

Grace lowers you into the baby walker anyway, carefully sliding your legs down before you hit the supports. You feel you’re diaper between you and the straps, you’re hyper-aware of it. Your feet barely reach the ground. You can move them, but most of you’re weight is supported by the baby walker.

“There,” she says happily, “all safe. And you look so cute!”

“Grace, stop! This is humiliating enough!” you tremble, horrified of how you must look.

“I’m sorry, honey. I don’t mean to tease you! It’s just I can’t help myself! I want to eat you up!”

“Whatever, can you just get something to eat?” you grouse, desperate not to have an audience for your humiliating new chair.

Grace walks away to the kitchen. Once she disappears around the corner, you try to escape from your mortifying prison. You try to push yourself up with your arms to swing your leg under the straps. But your arms are far too weak to succeed. You try to use your legs to help your arms but fail again. Nothing you try is remotely successful.

You’re trapped. In a baby walker. How did your life come to this?

Giving up on escape, you try to walk towards the front door. If you can just reach the door knob, maybe you can pull yourself up by holding on to it. It’s slow work. Your legs barely provide enough strength to move forward.

As you get to the door, you reach for the knob. Your hands barely reach the bottom of it. You try to reach higher. You’re almost there…

“What are you doing, baby?” Grace asks.

“I, um, nothing,” you splutter.

“Sure doesn’t look like nothing. I’m glad I put you in your walker, I didn’t know you’d be such a little troublemaker!”

“I’m not!” you whine, “I just don’t need to be trapped like a baby!”

“Well, if you keep acting like one, I’m not going to trust you!”

You notice Grace carrying a bottle of what must be milk. “I want food, Grace! Not a bottle!”

“You can’t have solid foods yet, Chris—Dr. Gooding’s orders. Your stomach needs to readjust to itself. Hopefully you’ll be able to eat solids again!”

“What do you mean ‘hopefully?’” you fretted.

“Well, it’s common for the regression virus to lose the capacity to break down solids, especially those around your size. It’s quite possible you’ll need…well, we’ll worry about that later.”

Grace leans down and grabs you from the baby walker. She takes you back to the couch and sits down. She grabs a blanket on the couch and spreads it with one hand. You feel her lower you onto the blanket. Before you can react, she starts wrapping you in it, like you’re someone’s Chipotle order being wrapped in a burrito.

“What are you doing?” you ask in shock as your arms and legs are pinned down by the blanket.

“Just swaddling you to make feeding you easier!”

“Sw-swaddling? Why? I’m not a newborn, Grace! I don’t need to be swaddled even if I did shrink!”

“Hush, baby. It’s just easier for me to do it this way.” Grace says, moving you onto her lap. Before you can argue, she shoves the bottle's nipple in your mouth.

You suck without thinking. It tastes…surprisingly good. Really good, actually. You greedily suck, desperate for more.

Grace watches you, smiling. It feels so strange to be held like this. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so focused on your bottle. You happily feed for 15 minutes before you finish. You’re pleasantly surprised how full you feel.

You feel pressure in your stomach. Grace places a rag on her shoulder before you’re shifted onto it. Grace gently but firmly, taps your back in a rhythmic manner.

“What a—” you start to ask before a massive belch escapes from your mouth.

“Sorry, baby, but you need to be burped after you feed! It will make your tummy feel so much better!”

She burps you for another ten minutes. Even you are surprised at how much you burped. But it did, truthfully, make you feel much better.

Everything seems to be moving so fast. You feel like a passenger in your own life, at the mercy of Grace’s whims.

You have no idea how you’ll adjust to this new life. Not like you have a choice.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Your Saving Grace, Ch. 2

Prologue

All the voices at the party faded away. You didn’t care what they thought anymore. You were hungry and tired. You just wanted a full belly. Nothing else mattered.

Grace held you close to her body, adjusting you to lay perfectly on her lap to feed. A blanket covered you, though you knew it was more for her privacy than yours. Everyone knew what you were doing under the blanket anyway.

Grace smiled, knowing how far you’d come to get to this point. It hadn’t been easy. Feeding had been a struggle at first, even in private. You’d throw tantrums and even try to go on food strikes, though eventually you’d always give in.

But here you were, contentedly feeding in the middle of a party. Her good little boy. She knew your adult mind still resided in your brain, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore. Adult mind or not, you were her little boy. One who needed his Mommy to care for him and fill his hungry little belly.

You’d be asleep before you finished, giving her much-needed time to hang out with her friends and enjoy the party. She wasn’t there for your sake, after all. You may have shrunk down to a toddler and live your life as one, but she was still the same 27-year-old woman who needed to socialize as an adult with her friends. Babies weren’t in her five-year plan when you shrank two years ago, but she got one anyway.

Not that she was unhappy with the situation. Caring for you had been more fulfilling than she ever imagined. She loved being needed by you. She loved caring for you, even when you cried out in the middle of the night with a messy diaper. It was all worth it.

Chapter Two

“Babe, we need to talk about this. We can’t keep ignoring it. Whether you want to admit it or not, it will happen.” Grace insisted, trying to balance compassion with bluntness.

Neither of you talked about your diagnosis last night. Not that Grace hadn’t tried. But you wanted nothing to do with it, pretending everything was fine as you pounded one Old Fashioned after another. Eventually, Grace gave up, deciding there was no use discussing it with you while you tried to drown your sorrows in bourbon.

You woke up to a wet bed and a pounding headache, feeling even worse about your situation than before. You knew you couldn’t keep running, but the thought of having this conversation turned your blood cold.

What were you supposed to say? How could you look your wife in the eye and discuss what you wanted when you shrunk down to who knows how small? To discuss how you wanted to be treated and cared for after all your adulthood was stripped away?

“Not now, babe,” you say meekly.

“Yes, now,” Grace retorted firmly, “Dr. Gooding said he needs an answer by tomorrow if you want to do the procedure. If you decline, you’ll do the process slowly and painfully. Either way, it’s going to happen. Ignoring it won’t change it.”

“Okay, okay,” you answer wearily, more to keep her from raising her voice and soothe your pounding head.

“I know it’s not easy, babe. I know it sucks. And you know I love you more than anything. But we need to be prepared and on the same page. I will be with you every step of the way. I just need you to open up and talk to me.”

“It’s just a lot, you know,” you lament, “how am I supposed to be a good husband when I need you to do everything for me?”

“Don’t you worry about that, Chris,” Grace assures you, “it doesn’t matter. It’s not like you chose this or are some lazy degenerate who doesn’t do anything for his wife. This is beyond our control. If you think like that it will drive you crazy.”

“It’s easy for you to say—you’re not the one shrinking,” you demure.

“That’s true, I’m not, Chris,” Grace responds, “but don’t think for a second you’re not the only one this affects. You’re not the only one struggling.”

You want to argue, to yell that it’s not even close to the same thing. Physically shrinking and losing your adulthood is way worse than having to care for you. But you can’t. You knew you’d probably throw up before you finished. “Whatever,” you say.

“Stop being so immature, Chris,” Grace scolds, “it’s fine to take this hard, but how you’re acting is making things worse. I’ll make this easy, just answer this: do you want to do the procedure, or do you want to shrink naturally.”

You glare at her. Where does she get off scolding you and calling you immature? But you’ve already made that decision, at least. You want the procedure. You hate pain, you’ve always had a low pain tolerance. Three months of pain only to end up in the same place sounds horrible.

You also know what taking the appointment means. It would be set for Friday, giving you less than a week as an adult, which is almost worse than physical pain. Almost, but not quite. “I want the procedure,” you concede.

“Great, thank you for working with me on that, I’ll call Dr. Gooding first thing tomorrow. I figured you would, considering how much you complain when you stub a toe,” Grace adds, trying to sound playful but failing to achieve it.

“Real funny,” you respond flatly.

Grace blushes, “well, that gives us a little less than a week to prepare for it—and to enjoy the last few days of your adult body. What do you want to do this week?”

You truthfully didn’t know. It felt like being diagnosed with a terminal illness and coming up with plans to check things off your bucket list. Except this week wouldn’t end with you dying, just the death of your adulthood, freedom, and autonomy.

Grace watches you think. “Well, I have some ideas, Chris,” she says, “if I have one last week with my fully grown husband, I intend to make it as worthwhile as possible. You won’t be the only one losing sex.”

Even though you knew deep down you’d lose out on things like sex, it wasn’t something you had thought about. And hearing it out loud made it sound even worse. Yet, you couldn’t let your pride get in the way, if it were your last week to have sex, you’d make the most of it. “That sounds good.”

“I think a week of your favorite birthday sex is the least I can do, babe. And we can go out and eat at all your favorite restaurants and drink at all your favorite bars. One last week of hedonistic pleasure.”

You lean in to embrace Grace to start the week of pleasure she promised. But as you do, your stomach lurches, causing you to dry heave.

“I think maybe you need some Advil and breakfast first,” Grace laughs.

The next few days were admittedly some of the most fun you’d ever had with Grace. You had quit your job, as you obviously wouldn’t be working after this week anyway. Grace had also started her leave from her work, taking advantage of the unique policies created after the virus spread throughout the country.

You took full advantage of your time together, trying to work a lifetime of sex into a few days. And you were succeeding. Sex was the only time you didn’t think about your waning time as an adult. For a few minutes, it didn’t matter. Grace and the pleasure you shared with her was the only thing in the world.

It wasn’t all fun, though. Between your lovemaking, there was work to do. Humiliating, soul-crushing work.

Preparing your new nursery was its special kind of hell—walking into baby stores, cheerful employees greeting you, asking when you were expecting your baby, only to take a few steps back as you reveal they were for you. Shopping for the crib you’d be relegated to, the changing table you’d invariably need, the diaper pail you’d inevitably fill destroyed what little ego you had remaining.

You set up your nursery together, never acknowledging it was something you expected to do for your own baby, not for you. It didn’t need to be said. It was somber work. Not even Grace’s cheerfulness could change it.

At least you didn’t have to shop for your clothes and diapers, you thought happily—that would have been even worse. Since you didn’t know how far you’d shrink, there was no point. At least now. You never let yourself dwell on the fact that you still would do that shopping—and that you’d do it in a very different manner.

You still held out hope you’d shrink down to a size that meant you’d keep most, if not all, of your control and wouldn’t need diapers at all. You had surreptitiously googled potty training ages and were confident you shrunk down to a four-year-old size you may escape a diapered fate.

You did your best to avoid thinking about your life if you shrunk down any farther than that, despite Grace’s efforts to discuss it. Grace suggested you try different baby foods, wipes, and other accessories now when you can still communicate your feelings.

“It’s better to do it now, Chris,” Grace suggested, “at least you can tell me what flavors you love and which you hate. Things you won’t be able to do if you can’t speak.”

You never entertained it, though. You wouldn’t be shrunk that small, you assured yourself. Why suffer the humiliation of sampling baby food for nothing?

The last night you had together was one of the most difficult nights of your life. You held Grace like never before, enjoying what little time you had together. Unlike the last few days, your lovemaking wasn’t wild, debaucherous, and fast-paced. No, it was slow, tender, and passionate. It was like savoring the last few bites of a delicious meal.

Your bodies communicating what words could never hope to convey. You stared deeply into each other’s eyes, reveling in every moment of pleasure, desperately trying to pause time to stay here, in this moment, forever.

But time is fickle and cruel. Before you knew it, and long before you were ready, you found yourself in the car, heading to Dr. Gooding’s office. A heavy silence filled the air, suffocating you. You wondered if this is how troops felt as they headed off to war, to an uncertain future, knowing it might be the last time they embrace the love of their life.

Of course, you weren’t going off to battle. You didn’t expect to find the horrors of war. You faced another kind of uncertainty. There wouldn’t be any danger. But it was still the end of life as you knew it. The home that you would return to would be unmistakably different than the home you left.

You felt Grace grab your hand, silently squeezing it as if she knew what you were thinking. You squeeze it back, your feeble smile betraying your attempt to look confident.

“Chris, I know you’re scared. I am, too. But I love you and no matter what happens here, I will always love you. Do you understand? Nothing will ever change that.”

Thirty minutes later, you found yourself lying on a bed, in a hospital gown. Grace stood next you, holding your hand and smiling down at you, doing nothing to hide the tears in her eyes. Dr. Gooding and three other doctors, nurses, and assistants were busy preparing the room for the procedure.

You felt strangely calm, given the situation. It didn’t matter that your life was about to change radically. Not right now. Through all the commotion, you stared into Grace’s eyes, time finally, mercifully feeling as if it agreed to slow down.

“I love you so much, babe,” you say, hoping she understood more than what was said.

“I love you too, Chris,” she responds.

The last thing you hear before your world fades into blackness is Grace.

“Always.”

Go to Chapter Three.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Your Saving Grace, Ch. 1

Prologue

“Are you excited, sweetie?” Grace asked.

As you felt the ride jolt forward, saw her beautiful smile looking down at you, you bubbled with excitement. Everything was perfect.

Nothing mattered but the next few minutes. Grace was there with you. You were so loved, so happy. Your troubles were nothing but a distant memory, powerless over your euphoria.

"Yes, Mommy!"

A grandmother, still waiting in line with her grandchildren, watched you and Grace as you sat down, her own mind swimming in nostalgia. Memories of taking her own son on this same ride so many years ago warmed her heart.

She understood nothing was more important to mothers than this. Their toddler would never remember this moment, this trip to Disneyland, their excitement of the Peter Pan ride. But his mother surely would. A cherished memory that would live on in her heart for the rest of her days.

Before you turned the corner into the ride, Grace caught the eye of the older woman. No words were said, but Grace intuitively knew what that smile conveyed. Call it a mother’s intuition. She returned the smile before turning her attention back to you, picking you up and placing you on her lap.

You may have been lost in excitement, but Grace steadied herself, determined to take in the entire experience.

Chapter One

You felt Grace shiver next to you; the office was far too cold. The office lacked any kind of warmth. Not only was it freezing, but it was sparsely decorated, its furniture uncomfortable, unwelcoming.

Yet, you knew she wasn’t shivering because she was cold. She—like you—was overwhelmed by nerves. Both of you know what’s at stake with the test results. A positive diagnosis meant both your lives would fundamentally change.

The file sat ominously on Dr. Gooding’s desk. He picked it up, reviewing its contents. His face revealed no information one way or another as he read through its pages.

Grace grabbed your hand, squeezing it tight. You looked at her, failing to achieve a self-assured smile. Grace made no attempt to hide her anxiety. Her eyes reflected her deep concern.

Dr. Gooding removed his glasses. He closed the file, placing it back on his desk.

“Is everything okay, doctor?” Grace asked shakily.

Dr. Gooding sighed. “I’m afraid not, both of your bloodwork has come back positive with the virus.”

Grace made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob. Her hand squeezed yours so tight you worried you might break a bone.

You were happy for the pain. It offered a distraction from the maelstrom of terror engulfing your mind. Everything you two had worked for—your entire lives—were thrust into uncertainty. Nothing would ever be the same.

You heard Dr. Gooding continue, “unfortunately, it appears it is sufficiently advanced, beyond our capabilities to reverse or even slow its progress. There is nothing we can do to prevent the virus from running its course. Unfortunately, Mr. Johnson will physically regress in size.”

Dr. Gooding’s words echoed in your head. It wasn’t a death sentence—but it might as well have been in your mind. You were doomed to physically shrink back to childhood. If you were “lucky” you’d at least end up a bit older, old enough to at least maintain some independence. But if you weren’t…

You hear Grace’s voice. “Sorry, Dr. Goodwin, but I’m confused. If we are both positive, why did you only say my husband would regress?”

“It appears your husband transmitted a variant of the virus to you. As I’m sure you’ve heard, this particular variant can only be spread sexually. While it does inoculate you from the regressive virus, it does have its own physical effects. For women, its effects resemble those experienced by mothers after childbirth.”

You saw Grace’s eyes go wide in terror. “So I…I’ll become my husband’s mother?”

“Not medically, no,” Dr. Gooding responds, “but you may come to feel like it. Your hormones will spike, creating a bond between you and your husband scientifically identical to that created when a mother holds her baby after giving birth.”

You feel both pairs of eyes falling on you. You fight the urge to run out of the office. To run until you can’t physically run anymore. The thought of your wife becoming your…mother overwhelmed you. Almost as much as knowing you were about to shrink down to being a child.

“Wh-what about Chris, what will happen to him?”

“Based on the huge number of viral bodies in his blood, as well as the advanced state of the infection, I would estimate he will regress to anywhere around the size of a newborn to four-year-old.”

Grace’s gasp felt as if it might cause you physical harm. She stood up, engulfing you in a hug.

“It’s okay, Chris, it’s okay, I promise. I’ll never abandon you. I’ll be with you every step of the way. I love you so, so much. No matter how much everything changes, my love for you won’t. We will get through this.”

You hug her, unable to say anything. What could you say?

“How long does he have, doctor?” Grace asks.

“Not long, two, maybe three months. Based on his symptoms so far, such as periods of incontinence, joint pain, and headaches, it’s clear the process has already begun.”

You manage to ask the only question you could think of: “will…will it hurt?”

Dr. Gooding sighs again. “Unfortunately, the process can be quite painful. Those who chose to let it happen naturally often report it feels as if someone is constantly chipping their bones away with a hammer for months.”

“What do you mean, ‘those who chose to let it happen naturally?’” Grace asks.

“Well, we can override the immune system, essentially giving the virus free reign in the body. In such cases, the virus works in only a few hours. When such a path is chosen, the patient is put under anesthesia until the process is complete overnight. The process is, essentially, painless.”

“And what about his mental acuity? Will Chris maintain his mind and memories?”

“Yes,” Dr. Gooding confirms, “the virus appears to have no mental or intellectual effects, only physical. Though in patients who physically shrink to toddler size and below, the emotional regulation center is often affected by the change, leading to emotional dysregulation common in actual children.”

“Okay, thank you, doctor.”

“No problem, Mrs. Johnson. I understand this is a lot to take in. I have an available appointment next week should you choose to speed up the process. I’ll need to know by Monday if you want it. Additionally, I have registered your diagnosis with the Department of Children and Families, who will be in touch with you shortly to discuss your options. I’m so sorry.”

Dr. Gooding excuses himself. Leaving you alone with your wife. You look into each other’s eyes, unable to fight back the tears.

Ten minutes into the drive home, Grace had given up on the conversation, giving you space to process your diagnosis. Though you noticed her frequent glances over to you, checking on you, hoping you were about to open up.

You were glad Grace offered to drive home. You doubted you’d safely handle driving given the enormity and intensity of your despair. So great was your fear and anguish, you weren’t sure of you were even thinking complete thoughts. You felt as though your thoughts were in a blender, shredded and homogenized, feeling each emotion of them in broken pieces, swirling in your mind.

One thing was certain: your life would never be the same. Dr. Goodwin’s estimate echoed in your head, like a playlist comprised of one song on repeat. You would end up somewhere between a newborn and four-year-old.

What satisfactory life could you possibly lead as a toddler? Or worse, a newborn—trapped in your own body, unable to walk or talk? A permanent baby.

If it weren’t for Grace, you’d consider another, equally permanent option. Surely death was a better option than this? But you knew it was not an option. You’d suffer through anything for Grace.

You’d do this for Grace. No matter what you lose in the future, you’d accept it for Grace. This would be your final gift to Grace. The last gift you can give her before the virus takes away your dignity and independence.

You knew there would be many long, emotional conversations ahead of you this weekend. It wouldn’t be fun or easy. But for now, all you wanted to do was sit in silence, mourning the loss of the future you worked so hard to build, but would never enjoy as an adult.

Go to Chapter Two.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Taylor's New Role, Pt. 3

Part two here.

Taylor couldn’t believe she was officially registered as incontinent with the school. It wasn’t that anything drastically changed because of it. There was almost nothing the school could do other than inform her professors and arrange extra time during exams so Taylor could change her diaper if necessary.

No, what made Taylor so apprehensive was how her diapers were becoming such a massive part of her life. Her relationship with Sean was now defined by her diapers. Her classmates saw her wet her diaper in the middle of class. Who knows how far that story has spread? Did her friends now? And now she was officially registered as incontinent with the school.

Thoughts raced through Taylor’s mind as she lay in bed. At least Sean was asleep, she thought. She didn’t want him to know she had another accident when she was awake, lying in bed. He’ll just assume she wet it in her sleep tomorrow morning. And she figured she’d inevitably wet her diaper tonight any like she did every night for the last week.

She wondered if Sean meant what he said tonight before bed. Would he really buy her onesies if she dressed herself again? All she wanted to do was change into her pajamas. She didn’t even think about the rules. When Sean asked what she was doing, she didn’t know what he was talking about. And Sean did not like it when Taylor said it wasn’t big deal, she’d wear what she wanted.

But onesies? Surely, they didn’t make onesies in adult sizes. They’re made for babies! Sean was probably just bluffing Taylor thought as she drifted off to sleep.

Taylor unsurprisingly woke up to a drenched diaper. She’d given up on hoping she’d stop bedwetting. All she cared about was getting out of diapers during the day—and somehow hiding her diapered status from everyone she knew for the next two weeks.

She felt a hand reach down and squeeze her diaper. “Wow, you soaked this one, Tay! You must really be enjoying your diapers since you use them so much. You know, we don’t have to wait until Spring Break to put you permanently in diapers!”

Taylor glared back at Sean. “Oh ha, ha,” she answered sarcastically, “I hate to break your heart, but I won't be in diapers in two weeks, and you’ll have to find a new power trip.”

Sean’s eyebrows rose so high in disbelief that Taylor wondered if they’d reach his hairline. “If you say so, babe! I don’t think you can go two hours without wetting your diaper, let alone two weeks.”

“Doubt me all you want, but I’ll be sipping margaritas on the beach in a bikini in Mexico for spring break! And I’ll remember your lack of faith when you try to get under my bikini!”

“I really, really admire your confidence, babe. You’re so confident for someone with what may be the wettest diaper I’ve ever seen between their legs waiting for a diaper change!”

“Whatever, just change my diaper so I can get breakfast.”

“I didn’t know I had such a demanding baby, I think someone might need her pacifier before she runs her mouth and gets into trouble!”

Taylor throws her head back in frustration, waiting for her new diaper.

As Sean got to work, Taylor wondered if she’d ever get used to having her boyfriend change her diaper.

Much to Taylor’s relief, nobody in her classes ever mentioned her accident or diapers. It was like it never happened. In fact, nobody noticed her diapers at all for the next few weeks.

It was a bittersweet realization for Taylor. She was pleasantly surprised she’d been wearing for as long as she had, and nobody ever noticed the thick, shameful padding between her legs. Even when she went out with friends. Diapers were her best-kept secret—and she intended to keep it that way.

Even her relationship with Sean had blossomed. Sure, Taylor still had to follow Sean’s rules, but he never strictly enforced them, letting Taylor get away with small things here and there. They were more like kinky regulations than rules—a roadmap for their fun.

But that’s where the good news ended for Taylor. It had been this long and she hadn’t even gone a single day without wetting her diaper. If anything, the accidents were becoming more frequent. Especially as the two-week period before spring break approached. The closer it got, the more nervous Taylor became—fueling even more accidents.

Taylor shuttered. In the last two weeks, she could use one hand to count how many times she made it to the bathroom. Her bladder had all but given up, preferring to fill her diaper rather than wait a few minutes for Taylor to reach the toilet.

“You know what today means, don’t you, princess?” Sean taunts.

Taylor feels a legion of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She knew exactly what today meant. Today was two weeks before Spring Break. The importance of the next two weeks was not lost on Taylor. Any accident from now until Spring Break and it was all over. Taylor would lose all toilet privileges—and who knows what else.

Sean may have been lenient with the rules before, but Taylor knew it wouldn’t last. Not if her diapers became permanent. Kinky or not, one more accident as she’d become Sean’s permanently diapered plaything.

The thought filled Taylor with dread.

“Y-yes,” Taylor stutters.

“Tell me what it means, Taylor.”

Taylor hesitates, shaking with nerves. “It-it means if I have one more accident…”

Sean smiles. “What happens then, princess?”

“I-I lose all my big girl privileges,” Taylor whimpers.

“Wow, such a smart little girl! What are those privileges, baby?”

“I-I’ll have to w-wear diapers at all times, and u-use them f-for everything.”

“And what else?”

Taylor shivers. “And…and…I’ll be your permanent babygirl,” Taylor squeaks.

“Yes, you will!” Sean responds triumphantly, “and don’t look all embarrassed, sweetie. You must want this because you’ve made no effort in the last few months to make it to the toilet. Clearly you crave diapers and a Daddy to care for you!”

“No, I don’t! I couldn’t help it! It’s not fair, you know I’m having problems!”

“Your urologist didn’t find anything to explain why you keep making so many tinkles in your diaper, remember? So, it must mean you want to wear your diapers.”

“Humphf,” Taylor responds, knowing Sean was twisting her urologist's words. The urologist simply said he didn’t see anything obvious to cause it.

“It doesn’t really matter, though. One more accident and Spring Break will be very different for you.”

Sean hands Taylor a cup of coffee. “Drink.”

“No, thank you,” Taylor responds.

“We have a big day today ahead of us,” Sean replies, “you’ll need it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Taylor responds, unsure why Sean said that. It was just a lazy Saturday, anyway.

“If you insist, baby. But you can’t dehydrate yourself for two weeks,” Sean answers, “now, let’s get you ready to go!”

“Go where?”

“The zoo, silly!” Sean says enthusiastically.

“But I—can’t we just hang out here today?”

“No, we can’t. And I don’t want to hear anymore whining out of you, princess.”

Taylor allows Sean to dress her, not wanting to put Sean in a bad mood. He was in charge, anyway.

After dressing Taylor, Sean grabs something out of the closet. Taylor noticed a few extra boxes that weren’t there a few days ago.

“Is…is that a diaper bag?” Taylor asks nervously.

“Yes, yes it is! You are in diapers, Taylor. What if you need a changie when we’re out?”

“I won’t, Sean! And that’s so babyish. I haven’t even had an accident yet!” Taylor adds desperately, noticing that the diaper bag was already ready to go, full of who knows what.

“We’ll see, babygirl.”

Taylor can’t help but notice Sean is treating her more like a little girl than ever before as they drive to the zoo. She hates the diaper between her legs, promising herself she would not have an accident today—or the next two weeks.

Sean buys the tickets. “What animals do you want to see first, princess?”

“I don’t care,” Taylor answers.

“Awww, I thought you’d be excited to see all the animals, baby!”

Taylor knew what Sean was doing. She also knew that one accident and this would be her new life. “You’re not funny, Sean.”

“I’m not being funny, Tay,” Sean insists, “I’m just trying to have a nice day with you.”

“You’re treating me like a child.”

“Is that what this is about? You wanting to be an adult? Well, then you’ll have to prove it, sweetie, because all I see is a girl in a diaper. Hardly an adult.”

“I am an adult, Sean. I won’t have an accident.”

“Okay, if you’re an adult, let’s get something to drink. We’ll be doing a lot of walking and it’s already hot out. Adults know they need to drink a bunch of water in those cases.”

“Fine,” Taylor snarls.

Sean buys two large water bottles. “Drink,” he says flatly.

Taylor drinks half of it, knowing any more would be dangerous.

“Thank you, Taylor. Now, let's see some elephants! They’re right over there.”

Taylor pretends to be interested in the elephants. It’s not hard, at least. She’s always loved elephants.

A twinge in her bladder throws Taylor into high alert. She needs to get to the bathroom immediately.

“S-Sean,” Taylor whimpers, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Okay, let’s go to the potty!”

Taylor ignores Sean’s teasing as she rushes off, desperate to reach the toilet.

“Slow down, Taylor!” Sean commands, “don’t run over any kids!”

The bathroom is 50 yards ahead. “I can make it,” Taylor assures herself. As the bathroom gets closer, Taylor becomes more optimistic. She could hold it for another minute if she had to.

Suddenly, the ground slips out from under her, sending Taylor falling backward, terror filling her mind as she does. She lands hard on her diapered butt, pain engulfing her.

“Are you okay?” Taylor hears Sean catching up to her.

“I-I think so,” Taylor whimpers.

“Can you stand up?” Sean asks.

Taylor gets up gingerly, though she doesn’t feel hurt. Just a little shell-shocked.

“Do you need to get to the bathroom?”

Taylor forgot for a split second why she was running. She didn’t feel the urge to pee anymore. To her horror, she realized what that meant.

Sean notices the fresh panic on her face, understanding what it means. He finally got his babygirl.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Taylor's New Role, Pt. 2

Part one here.

The warm, wet diaper forcing Taylor to waddle through campus was all she could think about. The source of her inner conflict.

She loved her diapers; she hated her diapers. Two equally powerful, diametrically opposed feelings battling for supremacy in Taylor’s mind.

She yearned for the moments Sean used her diapers’ humiliating power to drive her wild with passion. Yet, Taylor was increasingly concerned that her diapers weren’t just a kinky addition to their relationship, but a necessity.

Taylor wasn’t waddling through campus in a wet diaper because she thought it would be hot. She didn’t want to wet her diaper at all. And she especially didn’t want to wet her diaper so publicly in the middle of her well-attended lecture.

Humiliation is not created equal, a lesson Taylor learned today by brutal experience. The humiliation she craves with Sean is controlled, built on a foundation of deep trust, love, and consent, done in private. She wants it.

But this was very real, very public humiliation.

It started like any other lecture, with Taylor dutifully taking notes, sipping on her iced latte. It was a dull class but a prerequisite for her major. A poor grade here would have damaging results to her career.

Taylor did her best to ignore the diaper between her legs. Today was her first-ever class in diapers. While Sean assured her nobody could tell she was wearing a diaper, Taylor wasn’t so sure. It felt so obvious, as if there was a flashing neon arrow pointing down at her saying “She’s in a Diaper!!”

Halfway through class, Taylor felt the urge to pee. She ignored it; it wasn’t a pressing urge. Besides, there would be a 10-minute break in a half hour. She’d go to the bathroom then.

Taylor may enjoy her new diapered game with Sean, but she was determined to make it two weeks without an accident. She wanted to prove she didn’t need them—even if she enjoyed this new role with Sean.

But twenty-five minutes later, another significantly stronger urge struck Taylor. Panicked, Taylor immediately stood up to rush to the bathroom, not noticing the distraction her sudden movement caused. She squeezed past the other students as quickly as possible, desperate to reach the bathroom.

Taylor suddenly stopped, her change of pace drawing even more attention. She squeezed her legs as tight as she could, furiously fighting her bladder for control. Her effort proved futile. She felt her bladder release a flood into her diaper. Her face flushed with embarrassment.

Taylor felt the multitude of eyes on her. The silence in the room rang in her ears—her mad dash drawing her professor’s attention, who silently watched in shock. The silence only interrupted by the faint hissing sound of Taylor’s accident.

Trapped in the position, unable to flee the intense, overwhelming humiliation, Taylor whimpered in shame. She peed for what seemed like days. Her diaper expanded rapidly to contain her bladder’s barrage.

Finally, mercifully, it was over. Taylor saw the confused faces of her classmates, wondering what happened. Many of them must have thought Taylor was having some kind of accident, yet there were no telltale signs of one. Her pants weren’t wet. There was no smell.

Taylor prayed nobody would put the pieces together. That she did have an accident—and that she was prepared for it. She didn’t dare look at her skirt to see if her diaper was now noticeable.

“Are you okay, Miss?” her professor asks.

“Y-yes,” Taylor lied, wracking her brain for an excuse. Then, suddenly, she thought of one. Embarrassing as it would be to say out loud, it was far better than the truth. “I just had a nasty cramp, it's my, well, you know.”

Taylor didn’t wait to find out if they believed her lie. Apologizing to the professor, she grabbed her things and left. She headed to the bathroom to inspect the damage, hoping her diaper bulge wasn’t noticeable.

Taylor’s heart sank when she looked in the mirror. There was an unmistakable bulge in her skirt, a near-perfect outline of her soaked diaper. The implication paralyzed Taylor. There was no escaping the obvious truth: everyone in her class knew she just wet her diaper.

She looked at her watch. Her class was about to go on break. Her diaper would undoubtedly be the only topic of conversation. How could it not? How often is a college class interrupted while someone pees their diaper?

Taylor fled. The thought of looking her classmates in the eye while standing in a diaper they know is wet was too overwhelming. Grabbing her things, she took a deep breath. She walked—or, more accurately, waddled—as fast as she could, heading straight for her car.

She sobbed the entire drive to Sean’s apartment. She needed his calming, loving presence more than ever. It didn’t matter that her diaper was wet. All that mattered was that she would be safe.

“Hey babe, everything okay?” Sean asked as she walked inside, noticing Taylor’s tears.

Taylor didn’t say anything. She ran to Sean, needing his embrace. He happily obliged, wrapping her in a hug.

He held her as she sobbed. Sean suspected the cause of Taylor’s sobs. Keeping Taylor in a hug with his left hand, he reached down with his right, putting his hand under Taylor’s skirt, checking her diaper for the wetness he knew he’d find.

“You had an accident, didn’t you, Taylor?” he asked. Taylor answered in sobs.

Sean grabbed her hand, pulling her to the bedroom. He laid Taylor on the floor, removing her skirt and exposing her soaked diaper. Taylor continued to sob, hands covering her face. Sean got right to work changing her diaper.

A few minutes later, Taylor had a fresh, dry diaper. “Okay, babe, all done! Can we talk about it now?”

Through sobs, Taylor explained everything that happened: how obvious her diaper was to everyone, how everyone knew she wears diapers now.

Sean smiled. “Well, you do wear diapers now, babe, I hate to break it to you. And why are you grabbing your shorts?”

The firmness of Sean’s question startled Taylor. “I-I just wanted to put them on,” she whimpered.

“Sorry, but nothing goes over your shorts, you know that. I need to be checking your diaper if you’re having accidents.”

Taylor felt the now familiar pull between two worlds. The comfort of Sean’s authority and the hatred of her diapers. She wanted nothing more than to rip off her diaper, to throw them all away. Nothing except Sean. She dropped her shorts.

“Good girl.”

“W-what am I going to do, Sean?” Taylor whined, “everyone knows! How can I look them in the eye?”

“Why do you care what they think? I know you wear diapers and I’m still here. Who cares what random people think?”

“I do!” Taylor squealed.

“Well, you’ll be in diapers for at least two more weeks, babe. So, you can either stop caring what they think—or not. Either way, the diapers stay on.”

Sean watched the anger rise in Taylor. He opened a drawer on his nightstand, grabbing a small box, waiting for the explosion he knew was coming.

“F*ck that, Sean, I’m not playing this stupid game anymore! I don’t need diapers!”

Sean smiled. He was prepared for this. Without a word, he slowly opened the box, relishing in Taylor’s interest in the box.

“What did I say about talking back, Taylor?” he prompted, maintaining his calm.

Taylor saw what was in the box. Knew what was coming.

“I’m disappointed in you, Tay,” Sean lamented, “but rules are rules.” He put the pacifier in Taylor’s mouth.

Taylor begrudgingly accepted it, feeling like a child being scolded by their parent.

“Now, you will stand in the corner for 10 minutes. You can to use that time to calm down, okay? I won’t have you yelling at me. Once you’re calm, we can talk about it like adults.”

Taylor couldn’t believe she was walking to the corner, sucking on a pacifier with a fully exposed diaper. Why was she going along with this? She wasn’t a toddler!

Yet, she felt another sensation in her diaper. One unrelated to her bladder. She wouldn’t fight Sean. She broke the rules, she deserved to be punished. She did as she was told, staring at the wall taking deep breaths. She didn’t care how she looked.

“Okay, Tay, times up. Are you ready to talk about this like a big girl?”

Taylor moved to grab the pacifier out of her mouth.

“No,” Sean said sternly, “that stays in until I take it out.”

Taylor glared at him, wondering how he expected her to talk.

“Are you calm?”

“Yeth,” Taylor responds. The childish lisp from the pacifier made her blush with embarrassment.

“Good,” he says, grabbing the pacifier, “I’m sorry you had an accident, Tay. I didn’t want that to happen, but I’m glad you were protected. Weren’t you?”

She sighed, knowing he was right. “Yeah, it’s just so embarrassing. I’m the class diaper girl now!”

“Well, if you weren’t out of diapers by Spring Break, everyone would have known after anyway,” Sean responds cryptically.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Like I said, if you don’t go two weeks without an accident before Spring Break, you’ll be my full-time diaper girl. You’ll use your diapers for everything. You will wear them until you’re permanently, irreparably incontinent. I will do nothing to hide your status—or your loss of privileges.”

Taylor gulped. Once again, her mind was at war with itself. She wanted that. She couldn’t explain why, but she did. Even though she understood the unrelenting humiliation she’d face if it happened.

How would she look her friends in the eye when they know she’s nothing but Sean’s diaper girl? Knowing she pissed away her independence, autonomy, and privacy?

Not that it mattered. Could she even go two weeks without an accident anymore? Her control was rapidly deteriorating, that was undeniable. But if she became incontinent, wouldn’t it be better to let Sean take charge? If she’s going to be in diapers anyway, why not have Sean there to help?

“I-I understand.”

Sean hugs her. “Im glad you do, babygirl. I want you to understand I’ll love you no matter what. Whether you’re out of diapers or my diapered queen. I’ll always love you. It’s just, things might be very different for you in diapers.”

“I know. I love you too, Sean.”

“Now, are you ready to head back to campus? We need to take care of some things?”

“Why? I don’t have anymore classes today.”

“We need to go to the student services office babe. We need to make sure your professors know about your incontinence issues so if you have anymore problems they’ll be aware.”

“But—”

“No buts, Tay. Let’s go.”

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Taylor’s New Role, Pt. 1

Taylor thought her senior year of college was going to be the best year of her life. It was her last year to soak in the college experience, and she intended to do just that.

She never expected it to end up like this.

Taylor always wondered how her boyfriend, Sean, managed to stay so relaxed under pressure. It was the quality she admired most about him. No matter what was happening he was always calm, cool, and collected.

Unlike Taylor. Whether it was midterms, essays, or even making it to the 8 AM class she had to take, she incessantly stressed over it. Not even Sean's steady presence and assurances could soothe her frayed nerves.

The situation only got worse as she started Spring semester. With graduation approaching like a runaway freight train, Taylor knew she'd be thrust into the adult world in only a few months. She'd need a job, an apartment, all of it. Taylor couldn't have been more overwhelmed.

Unfortunately for Taylor, her nerves came with significant side effects. Side effects that would change the trajectory of her life and relationship with Sean.

You see, there was a direct correlation between Taylor's nerves and her overactive bladder. The more nervous she became, the more you'd find Taylor sprinting to the bathroom, fighting an overwhelming urge to pee.

For years, it had merely been an annoyance, not a problem. Sure, she'd need to rush to the bathroom, but she'd always make it. Nothing to worry about, just something to deal with.

So Taylor pushed it aside. She had more pressing concerns, anyway.

“What do you want to do for spring break, babe? Sean asked as they ate dinner at his apartment. Taylor loved his apartment—it was her safe space, her haven. Unlike Taylor, Sean lived alone. Though Taylor spent so much time there she might as well have been on the lease.

Taylor thought about it. She wouldn’t settle for somewhere basic and cliché—it was her last Spring Break, after all. No, this trip had to be special—their last hurrah before they became boring adults.

Taylor didn’t know it yet, but she would never become the adult she imagined.

“What about Mexico?” Taylor responds, “maybe Cabo or Cancun?”

For the rest of the night, they mulled over increasingly exotic destinations. For a few hours, Taylor forgot all about her worries and concerns. At least until she tried to sleep. Before long, Taylor went from imagining partying on some foreign beach with Sean to her future after it, never noticing her growing need to pee as she fitfully drifted off to sleep.

“Taylor…Taylor. Wake up.”

Taylor heard Sean’s voice trickle into her dream. For as anxious as she was falling asleep, she had remarkably good dreams. She was dancing with Sean, taking shots on bars, and…something else. She remembered sprinting to the bathroom, feeling the intense relief of making it on time.

“Taylor,” she heard Sean say again, shocking her awake. She felt cold and…wet. “You wet the bed last night.”

Sean expertly handled the situation. Taylor was obviously mortified, but both of them chalked it up to a one-off event. She wasn’t a bedwetter, Sean assured her. It happens every so often.

Except Taylor woke up in a puddle every morning for five days. The more it happened, the more worried Taylor became. The more she worried, the more likely she was to wake up wet. It was a vicious cycle. A cycle that Taylor would never escape.

As always, Sean never showed any signs of panic or concern. Every morning when he inevitably woke up in a wet bed, he calmly woke Taylor up and washed the sheets, assuring Taylor everything was okay.

That night, Taylor went to Sean’s apartment as usual. It had been a long week for Taylor between the bedwetting and a tedious, difficult courseload. She needed a quiet Friday night with Sean.

Taylor noticed something different about Sean, though. There were subtle, almost imperceptible changes in his behavior. Sean was always helpful, respectful, and generous, yet tonight he seemed even more so. Taylor couldn’t put her finger on it.

Something about the way Sean acted made him feel…was powerful the right word? Maybe authoritative? Taylor tried to decide. He wasn’t bossy or mean—no, it felt too loving to be either. He just seemed more…in control. Protective.

Whatever it was, Taylor didn’t mind. She felt surprisingly safe and comfortable, even when he insisted he handle dinner while Taylor relaxed. Or when he cleaned the dishes himself. Or when he unilaterally decided they should watch Finding Nemo, saying it was “perfect” for her. Even when he rebuffed Taylor’s request for a glass of wine. Taylor contented herself with cuddling with Sean under the blankets on the couch, watching the movie.

Once the movie ended, Sean decided it was time for bed. As they got up to head to his bedroom, Taylor heard him say something that flushed her cheeks with embarrassment: “Taylor, can you try to go potty before bed?”

Taylor froze. She’d never heard Sean call it a “potty” before. Despite her overwhelming embarrassment hearing his suggestion, Taylor meekly agreed. “O-okay,” she said, barely more than a whisper. Taylor didn’t use the “potty,” though, unwilling to give in to Sean’s infantile demands.

But Taylor’s embarrassment was only beginning. As she walked into his bedroom after humiliating time on the “potty,” she found another, even more humiliating item waiting for her on his bed: a package of pull-ups. Sean sat next to them, waiting expectantly for Taylor.

“Wh-what are those?” Taylor stuttered.

“It’s time you wore some protection to bed, Taylor,” Sean said sternly, yet with a surprising undercurrent of love, “your accidents aren’t stopping. So you need to wear these until you get it under control.”

Taylor understood this wasn’t a negotiation. Sean expected her to wear the infantile garments next to him. She watched as he calmly opened the package, taking out the pull-up she would soon be wearing. Seeing it made her stomach drop, the yellow and blue stripes a poor imitation of the underwear it would soon replace.

“Come here, Taylor,” he said, the authority unmistakable in his voice. Taylor did, wordlessly walking towards the inevitable humiliation. Without another word, he pulled down Taylor’s pants, then underwear. He fluffed the pull-up, separating the leg holes.

“Up,” he demanded, tapping her left leg. When she did, Sean slipped the pull-up over her leg, up to her calf. The process repeated with the other leg. Soon, the pull-up was lifted into place.

“There,” Sean said, satisfied, “how does it feel, Taylor?”

A dawning realization grew in Taylor’s mind. Sean’s behavior all night made sense. He treated Taylor exactly how you’d expect to treat someone who still wears pull-ups—all part of the power dynamic that inherently comes with diapers.

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” Taylor thought in a panic, “I don’t need pull-ups!”

Sean never took his eyes off Taylor. He patiently waited for her to answer.

To Taylor’s horror, her body answered for her. Her frayed nerves were pushed past their breaking point, throwing her bladder into overdrive. Without warning, Taylor felt her bladder violently spasm. Before she could even react, she felt a growing warmth in her pull-up. She looked down in terror, unable—unwilling—to comprehend what was happening.

For a nanosecond, Sean’s eyes grew wide when he realized what was happening before regaining his composure. He saw a darkness spread in Taylor’s pull-up, expanding as it did. Neither spoke until Taylor finished.

Calm as always, Sean looked up at Taylor’s face, her cheeks red with shame. “Well, I’m glad you were wearing your pull-up!”

“I-I-I don’t u-understand!” Taylor sobs, humiliation getting the best of her.

“I do,” Sean replied, getting up and hugging Taylor, “you had an accident. Like the ones you’ve been having all week. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Taylor. I’m here.”

Their embrace was interrupted by the sound of dripping. Sean stepped back, looking down at Taylor’s now leaking pull-up.

He sighed. “Taylor, honey, I don’t think these pull-ups will cut it, especially if you’re going to keep having accidents when you’re awake. Tomorrow, we’ll get you something more suited to your needs.”

Even though it was left unsaid, Taylor knew exactly what he meant: diapers. And even worse, he thought she was having daytime accidents. Well, she was having daytime accidents.

Panic and frustration welled inside Taylor. “I don’t need diapers! I’m not a baby!” Taylor shrieked, her tone very much as infantile as the baby she denied being.

“Look at me,” Sean commanded, “I understand you’re embarrassed. But you just leaked through your pull-up. You weren’t sleeping when you wet it. You obviously need diapers if you don’t want to leak every time you have an accident. And you’ll need them whenever you’re at risk of having an accident, which now appears to be when you’re asleep and awake.”

The next morning, Taylor followed Sean into his car. Every step reminded her of the pull-up that he insisted she wear. Not that Taylor could deny its necessity anymore as she passed the garbage can that now contained two wet pull-ups.

Taylor meekly held Sean’s hand as he perused the diaper aisle of the medical supply store. Grabbing diapers from the shelf, slowly, methodically inspecting them to determine if they will meet Taylor’s needs. He never asked or accepted Taylor’s input or opinion.

Finally, he settled on a case of Northshore Megamax diapers over Taylor’s whining that those diapers were too thick. She didn’t pee that much, she insisted, and besides, how would she go to the bathroom? Sean brushed her concerns away.

Once they got home, Sean led Taylor straight to their bedroom, grabbing a Megamax from the package. “Lay down,” he ordered.

For the first time she could remember, Taylor was about to be put into a diaper. Despite her fear and hesitation, she laid down. Sean—not her—was in control. She watched as he gently ripped the sides of her pull-up and removed it from her body. She expertly fluffed the diaper that would soon be wrapped around Taylor.

Without warning, Sean lifted Taylor’s legs with his left hand, sliding the diaper under her with his right. Taylor felt his strength as he did. Despite her embarrassment, she almost enjoyed his newfound authority over her.

He generously applied baby powder, its babyish scent filling the room, a subtle reminder of Taylor’s position. Taylor felt her diaper pulled up to her stomach before hearing the tabs opening, trapping her in her first diaper.

“There,” Sean beamed, checking his handiwork and fretting with the leak guards, “perfect fit!”

Taylor stood up, the bulk between her legs unmistakable. “These are so bulky, Sean! I don’t need them this thick!”

Sean just laughed. “You don’t need to worry about that, okay? Besides, we need to go over the new rules for your diapers first.”

“R-rules?” Taylor stammers.

“Yes, silly,” Sean responded, “what did you expect?”

“I expected not to be in a diaper!” Taylor retorted.

“Well, I’m not the one who wet the bed all week. Or leaked through a pull-up when I was wide awake. Hard to expect not to be in a diaper when that happens, babe.”

Taylor glared at him, no clever responses forming in her head.

“Anyway. Rule number one: you are absolutely, unequivocally not in charge of your diapers, understand? I am. You are not to touch, remove, or change your diaper under any circumstances. I will check and change your diaper when I see fit.”

Taylor opened her mouth to argue. “Don’t interrupt, sweetie. I need you to hear these rules, okay?”

“Good, thank you, Taylor. Rule number two,” Sean continued, “you can tell me whenever you need to go to the bathroom and I will help remove your diaper. If you go two weeks without having an accident during the day, I won’t keep you in them. Same for night. But if you do have an accident, the 2-week period resets. If you are not out of diapers by Spring Break in three months, I will keep you in them permanently. If that happens, you will use them for everything. No exceptions.”

“Rule number three, you are not to wear anything over your diaper when we are home. I want to see if you’ve had an accident. And, hopefully, it will inspire you to act like a big girl and not wet your diapers.”

“Rule number four: you will listen to what I say at all times. Anyone in diapers cannot be in charge. It’s absurd to think they could. So, until you’re out of diapers, I am in charge. I will order for you at restaurants, decide what you wear for class, and when you go to bed.”

“Rule number five: you will not touch yourself or orgasm without my permission. Diaper girls do not get such luxuries.”

“And, finally, rule number six: if you break any of these rules, you will lose a “big girl” privilege. They will not come back until you are out of diapers. So, for example, if you do something like talk back to me, I’ll expect you to use a pacifier until you learn to think before you speak. Got it?”

Taylor couldn’t believe what she heard. Sean expected her to follow these rules? She’s an adult, not some petulant little girl. But even as she wanted to yell at him, to tell him what she thought of his BS “rules,” she realized she was…turned on.

How could she be, though? It didn’t make sense. Why did this bulky, humiliating diaper between her legs feel so good?

As she stared into Sean's eyes, she knew she would follow his rules. She was a diaper girl, wasn’t she? And if she was, Sean should be in charge. He’s always been so calm, so collected while she was never either of those.

 Taylor didn’t understand it, but she knew she wanted this. She needed this. A devious smile flashed across Taylor’s face. “Got it, daddy.”

Sean returned the smile. Whatever this was, it was going to be fun.

Go to Part Two.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

My New Babysitter pt. 7

Go to Part Six Here. I know its the same picture as part six, its the same day. You get it.

I’m still trying to recover from what just happened. Finding a place to change my diaper had been much more complicated—and more embarrassing—than I expected.

Most of the available “bathrooms” were just rows of Porta Potties. They were both too small and too disgusting to use to change my diaper.

We eventually found an area for families with much larger bathrooms and changing tables for parents to change their kids. As much as I tried to convince Olivia we could find somewhere else to change, she ignored me.

“This is perfect, Jack. Look they have private bathrooms with changing tables. We’re not going to find anywhere better.”

Olivia gave me no time to respond, grabbing my hand and walking me to the entrance, where a worker stood. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but would it be possible to use one of the restrooms? We’re looking for a bit of privacy.”

The worker looked at us, clearly thinking we had no intention of actually using the bathroom. “These bathrooms are for family use only. You two can wait until you get home,” he said, annoyance in his voice.

Olivia laughed, “oh no, we’re not here for that. I just need to change his diaper, and we need something bigger than a Porta Potty for that.”

That only seemed to make the worker more skeptical. “Okay, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This is a family section, I’m not here to play your games.”

“I’m not joking, sir, look,” Olivia says, grabbing one of my spare diapers and waving it around, “he needs help changing his diapers. That’s all I want to do. We’re not together.”

I stood there, wishing a sinkhole would form under me and swallow me up, never to be seen again. I hated how the worker looked at me. He went from thinking I was with Olivia to eyeing me like I was no different than any of the toddlers in the family area. “Alright,” he laughed, “go ahead.”

Fortunately, Olivia was as efficient as usual, so I didn’t have to stay there long. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to come back again.

As we walked back to meet everyone, Olivia’s boyfriend called her, letting her know he just parked. My stomach sank, this was going to be so awkward. It was one thing to be around all the girls, but being around another guy seemed much more intimidating.

Olivia noticed my nerves again. “I know it’s scary, Jack. But like I said, he won’t make you feel bad at all, okay? He’s a firefighter, I’m sure he’s seen people in diapers before on his calls.”

Five minutes later, Olivia spotted him walking in. I didn’t know what guy could ever be lucky enough to be with Olivia, but as soon as I saw him, I wasn’t surprised. He was tall and muscular. He was well-dressed and just seemed so confident. Something I could never be.

I watched as Olivia ran to him, immediately kissing him. I feel pangs of jealousy as I watch. He’s so lucky.

Olivia breaks away, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards me. “Jack, this is my boyfriend, Ryan.”

Ryan sticks his hand out to shake mine. I try to look for clues in his face for what he thinks about me, but don’t detect anything but friendliness. I shake his hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, Jack,” he says, “so, you’re the one stealing my girlfriend from me all weekend?”

I laugh nervously.

“Oh, stop complaining, Ryan,” Olivia scolds, “or someone’s gonna be sitting alone on the Ferris Wheel!” She looks at me, “the girls are waiting for us by the petting zoo! Jessica never misses an opportunity to play with animals!”

I follow behind Olivia and Ryan as they walk hand in hand, deep in conversation. I can’t help but feel resentment that Ryan gets to be with Olivia while I get nothing more than a diaper change. My life would be so different without my diapers.

Maddie’s smile breaks me out of my funk. It feels incredible to have a beautiful woman smile when she sees me. Butterflies swarm my stomach in a flurry of activity. It’s hard not to feel hopeful when I see her.

“Hi Jack! Feeling better with a clean diaper?” Maddie says, too loud for my taste. I see a few mothers look over at me, quizzical looks on their faces. “Come pet some of these goats with me! I got us some food for them!”

I return her smile as I walk over to her, hoping if I close the gap, she won’t yell my embarrassing secrets out loud. I do wish Ashley and Jessica would stop giggling to themselves as they look at me.

Maddie grabs my hand, pulling me into the gate to pet the goats. She hands me a bag of food. “Just give them some of this, and they come right over to you! Don’t be shy!”

I hand out the food to the greedy goats. They’re cute, but it's not something I enjoy. But Maddie enjoyed it, so I pretended to have fun to. Whatever it takes to make her smile.

Olivia and Ryan are nowhere to be found. I spot them outside the tent, making out with each other. I wonder if I will kiss Maddie tonight. The prospect of kissing Maddie fills me with excitement and dread, I’ve never kissed a girl. But Maddie is so beautiful, I hope I don’t mess it up.

Ten minutes later, we ran out of food and headed out. “What should we do next?” Jessica asks the group.

Olivia breaks off from Ryan. “I think it’s time for the Ferris wheel!”

“Good idea!” Ashley confirms, looking my way.

“What do you say, Jack? You want to ride with me?” Maddie asks, smiling ear to ear.

“That sounds great, Maddie!” I respond.

“Yay, thank you, Jack!” she exclaims, grabbing my hand.

The Ferris wheel looks considerably taller up close, I realize to my dismay. Much taller than the roller coaster.

“Don’t worry, Jack!” Maddie says, noticing my trepidation as I look up at it, “it will be just like the roller coaster, I’ll be right next to you the whole time!”

As much as the prospect of dangling that high off the ground terrified me, I wanted—needed—this alone time with Maddie. Even if it scared me more than the Ferris wheel, this was my opportunity. What if she tells me she likes me?

A surge of adrenaline rushes through my veins as the attendant clicks the lap bar into place—no backing out now. But Maddie slides her hand into mine, our fingers interlock. I don’t even notice we are moving up, too lost in Maddie to care.

We’re so close. I feel her leg against mine, her hips, her body. Jolts of electricity shoot into my body everywhere our bodies touch. Yet, it’s not a bad sensation. If anything, it feels wonderful. Nothing I’ve ever experienced could have prepared me for this.

“I’m happy you’re here, Jack,” Maddie beams, tenderness in her voice.

“I-I’m glad, too!” I bluster, struggling to form a sentence as I stare into her eyes.

“You’re adorable, nothing like any of the other guys who chase after me. You make me feel safe needed,” she blushed.

She thinks I’m cute! Play it cool!

“T-thank you, Maddie! I think you’re beautiful too!” I respond, trying to sound confident.

Maddie laughs. “That’s sweet of you to say, Jack! And listen, I know you’re inexperienced around girls because of your diapers. But I don’t think it’s a big deal at all! In fact, I’m glad you’re still in diapers!”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. My mind goes blank—what can I possibly say to that?

“Oh, Jack, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I promise! I just wanted to get that out of the way so you know it’s not a problem for me!”

“R-really?” I mumble, thankful I even got that out.

“Yes, really! Now, can you stop being embarrassed and enjoy the ride? Look at the view, Jack! We can see the beach from here!”

I was thankful for the change of topic, even as I panicked about the height. I felt my bladder spasm in fear, hoping Maddie didn’t notice. I feel her hand squeeze mine harder. I meet her gaze.

For a second, I thought time had stopped. Everything faded from my mind as I looked into her eyes: my embarrassment about my diapers, my fear of heights, all of it. Nothing mattered except Maddie. It was like a bubble formed around us. We were the only two people in the world.

I watch her eyes slowly close, leaning closer to me as she does. My body takes over for me, instinctively understanding what to do. I do the same.

I feel her hands on my elbows, guiding my arms to her waist. I shiver as I feel her body between my hands. Her hands wrap around my body as she pulls me closer—a dance I somehow know despite never learning.

Then, it happens. I feel her lips on mine.

I’m kissing Maddie. It’s actually happening.

I could never hope to explain the sensation. Or the unmitigated joy I felt at that moment. Words are hopelessly unsuited to the task. Not even the most extraordinary poets could hope to describe it.

My euphoria suddenly disappears.

No, no, no, no.

I beg my body to delay the inevitable.

Maddie pulls her head back, arms still wrapped around my body, feeling it suddenly tense up. “Is everything okay, Jack?”

I try to respond, to apologize to Maddie. But all I can do is grunt as my body forces me to push…

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy’s Little Problem, Chapter 22

“Thank heavens for Legos,” Lindsay thought to herself. She needed the distraction from the awkwardness of the timeout, as well as something to do with Sammy that was Little appropriate.

It was strange having to think back to her childhood to find common ground with Sammy, when just a few weeks ago they were discussing their future, independence, and careers.

But here Sammy was playing with Legos in a diaper that Lindsay herself changed. It was such a wild departure from everything she expected. Not just for Sammy—but her too.

Lindsay thought Sammy would be the Maid of Honor at her wedding. And, of course, Lindsay would be the Maid of Honor at her Sammy’s wedding. That’s what best friends did.

But now, everything was different. Could a Little even be a Maid of Honor? Lindsay could only imagine how awkward that conversation would be, let alone the wedding itself.

Sammy would obviously never marry. If Lindsay knew anything about Littles, it was that. Littles never dated, never married, never even kissed anyone. That’s just the way things were.

Lindsay wondered if that was something Sammy had thought about. She knew she would in her position. How could she not? They both discussed the dream men they hoped to marry for hours only a few weeks ago.

Lindsay’s heart sank for Sammy. Surely she’d thought about that. Surely it was just one of a hundred things she knew she lost along with her independence.

“Wow! You’re flying through that!” Lindsay said enthusiastically, “almost back to where it looked like you were before it broke!”

“Yeah, it was easy because I remembered most of what I did!” Sammy said proudly.

“The way you’re going I think you can finish before Allie gets home!” Lindsay encouraged Sammy. She never thought she’d be congratulating Sammy so authentically for something as simple as a Lego construction—or that Sammy would be so happy about it.

“I hope so, I want to show Allie when I finish! She said it would take me a week, but I can do it in 2 days, just watch!”

“I know you can, Sammy!”

Lindsay watched Sammy enthusiastically build for the next 40 minutes, smiling at her determination. Sammy never noticed the pictures Lindsay took, or even cared that Lindsay was absentmindedly scrolling through instagram.

Sammy suddenly felt a rumble in her stomach. She knew what it meant. And she definitely didn’t want it to happen right there in front of Lindsay.

Sammy tried to think of a distraction. Anything that would keep Lindsay occupied. She wasn’t hopeful enough to think she could make it to the bathroom, but she could at least get away from Lindsay to do it. She didn’t want her to see it happen.

“Lindsay, I forgot something in my room, I’ll go get it real quick. Be right back!” Sammy tried to say casually.

Lindsay had seen Sammy grab her stomach, rocking back and forth, knowing what was about to happen. But she decided it was her gift to Sammy. She’d give her enough privacy to fill her diaper in peace.

“Okay, Sammy, I’ll be waiting right here! Don’t take too long!”

Sammy got slowly, trying not to upset her tummy. She slowly waddled out of the room, not daring to take any sudden movements. Once she was out of sight she relaxed.

Lindsay laughed. Sammy actually believed Lindsay couldn’t see her.

Sammy tried to take a few extra steps upstairs, but it was no use. She squatted down where she stood, grunting in effort to fill her diaper. She wished she hadn’t eaten those chicken nuggets, as they definitely were creating much more work for her.

She tried to push, aiding her body, so she wouldn’t draw Lindsay’s suspicions by taking too long. She knew her grunts were louder than normal, but it was fine. Lindsay couldn’t see her anyway.

She pushed and pushed, working hard to fill her diaper. She felt her diaper sag, burdened by its unusually heavy load.

In between pushes, Sammy tried to look at her jeans, wondering if her diaper was noticeable. But whenever she tried, her body forced her back into a squat.

Finally, Sammy thought she finished. She hadn’t pushed in a while. She decided to stomp on the stairs a bit to sell that she was coming back downstairs.

She walked back into the room, trying her best to act casual. “Sorry, I thought I forgot my paci.”

Lindsay tried her hardest not to laugh. She knew Sammy’s paci was clipped to her shirt. But she didn’t want to make Sammy’s childish antics seem too obvious. It didn’t matter. She would fill her diapers anyway. If she thought she had privacy, and that made her happy, that was all that mattered.

“No biggie, Sammy! Did you get it?”

“Yeah!” Sammy said, putting the pacifier in her mouth.

Lindsay tried not to wince as Sammy sat back down, smushing her mess even more, giving Lindsay even more work to do. “Well, what’s the next step, Sammy?”

Sammy talked Lindsay through the next few steps. Proud of the progress she was making—and tricking Lindsay into not knowing she messed her diaper.

“Wow, I can almost see it looks like I’m Star Wars!” Lindsay brags for her.

“Well right now I’m just working on the insides. Once I finish I can put the exterior pieces!”

Lindsay let Sammy work for a few more minutes. The smell was becoming obvious. And she knew Allie would never forgive her if she let Sammy go too long with a loaded diaper.

Lindsay pretends to sniff the air, as if it wasn’t obvious what she was sniffing. “Uh oh, I think someone here has an icky diaper! But who could it be?”

Lindsay didn’t know why she said it like that, but something made her think it was the right approach.

She doubled down, “hmmm, I wonder who it is?”

Sammy tried to act as innocent as possible, hoping Lindsay wouldn’t press the issue. “I don’t know! Maybe it was one of my stuffies!”

Lindsay smiled, “you know what, it could be! Let’s go check your stuffies upstairs!” She couldn’t have thought of a better idea. She’d be right next to the changing table and ready to change Sammy once she admitted it.

Sammy didn’t know how, but she was determined to get out of this. She got into Stanford, she could think of her way out of this.

“Okay, I bet it was Mr. Bunny!” Sammy said, trying to act cute and distract Lindsay.

“Well I think we should go check! Mr. Bunny won’t get diaper rash on my watch!”

They head upstairs, Sammy leading Lindsay to her room. Lindsay laughs to herself, wondering if Sammy realizes her smell gives her away.

“Where’s the lil’ stinker Sammy? Show me where Mr. Bunny is so I can clean is tushy!”

Sammy leads her to Mr. Bunny having no idea how to get out of this situation. All she knows is she can’t have Lindsay find her in a dirty diaper. And the thought of her changing her like this? No no no.

Lindsay spots Mr. Bunny. “Is he the one responsible for the stinky smell?” She takes a dramatic sniff of Mr. Bunny. “Hmmm, I don’t think Mr. Bunny is our culprit. But who can it be?”

Sammy tries to slowly sneak out of the room, knowing the jig is up.

“Wait a minute, I think someone is trying to frame Mr. Bunny!” Lindsay says as she sees Sammy try to run out of the room.

Sammy thinks she’s in the clear as she turns the corner. She turns around to see if Lindsay is following her. As she does, she takes a step back, not noticing her stuffie on the ground. She trips, falling straight back on her messy diaper.

The sensation immediately overwhelms Sammy. It’s too much. She feels dirty and needs help. She doesn’t even care anymore if Lindsay knows. Anything to stop this feeling.

Sammy doesn’t know what to do or what to say. How to admit to Lindsay she needs her. All she knows is she’s overwhelmed. Tears start filling her eyes as she starts to sob. Once she starts, it grows in intensity as she begins to cry out for Lindsay.

Lindsay hears Sammy fall. She runs out of the room after Sammy, only to find her on her back, crying her heart out. Lindsay thought it would be cute if it wasn’t so heartbreaking.

There her best friend in the world was, laying on the ground in a dirty diaper, sobbing like a toddler. For the first time that day, Lindsay didn’t see her best friend. She saw a needy toddler in desperate need of a clean diaper.

She had to help her, not because it was her best friend, but because her Caregiver instincts were suddenly taking over.

As Sammy cried, Lindsay reached down and picked her up, putting Sammy on her hip.

“It’s okay, Sammy, I got you. I’m here, Lindsay is here. We’ll get you into a clean diaper in no time, sweetie. Just breathe. I got you, baby.”

Despite her best efforts, Sammy continued to cry. Lindsay decided there was nothing else to do but change her. She put Sammy on the changing table and got to work.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 21

Sammy let Lindsay hold her hand as she followed her downstairs. It felt strange at first, but given her morning, she needed to feel closer to Lindsay.

And what a morning it was.

Sammy tried to process everything that happened in the few minutes she’d been awake. Having Lindsay see her like that, sleeping in her crib—and even worse, onesie—was deeply embarrassing. She must have looked just like a baby!

How could she ever look Lindsay in the eye again and think of herself as an equal, and not some diaper-filling Little? It was one thing for Allie to see her like that. Allie was always like a big sister to her.

But Lindsay was much more than a friend. She always thought of Lindsay as a sister. And now she’s here babysitting her. Sammy couldn’t put into words how it felt to go from Lindsay’s best friend, someone she shared everything with, to being so helpless that Lindsay was now in charge of her.

It was humiliating enough to have Lindsay change her diaper earlier. Sammy never felt more little than at that moment, listening to Allie give instructions on how to properly change her diaper. All Sammy wanted to do was disappear.

Yet, she was glad Lindsay was there to help. It may be humiliating, but so is being a Little. It was better than going to the Adoption Center to have some random Caregiver adopt her.

Sammy saw Allie had already set the table for lunch. She assumed Allie must have been super busy, because she never served take out. But to her surprise, there was a bag of McDonald’s waiting for them.

“I hope you guys don’t mind, but I didn’t have time to make anything. So, here’s to hoping you like McDonald’s!” Allie said, with noticeable embarrassment in her voice.

“Oh stop, Allie, McDonald’s will do great,” Lindsay laughs.

“Sammy, honey, I got you some chicken nuggets, apple slices, and some apple juice here,” Allie says, pointing to Sammy’s spot.

McDonald’s chicken nuggets were Sammy’s guilty love. She always tried to eat healthy, but chicken nuggets were the exception. Of course, when she went, she’d get a large Diet Coke with it. She doubted Allie would ever let her have one of those again. Another privilege lost to being a Little.

Sammy sat down next to Lindsay, hoping she wouldn’t mention her sippy cup.

Ten minutes later, lunch was done. Lindsay never mentioned the sippy cup to Sammy’s relief.

“Okay, well, I need to head out,” Allie says to both of them before turning to Lindsay, “I should be back before, but if not, Sammy’s bedtime is at 8. Make sure you put her in her nighttime diaper before you do. You should have everything you need in the meantime.”

Sammy blushed again having her bedtime announced so casually. She hated her bedtime. It was so early.

“I got this, Linds. Everything is under control.”

Allie smiles, turning to Sammy. “I want you to behave for Lindsay, okay, Sammy? You two can have fun, but you need to listen to what she says. She’s in charge. I don’t want to hear you were misbehaving.”

Sammy just nods, feeling like a toddler being chided for misbehaving.

“Do you want your paci?” Allie asks her.

“Okay,” Sammy concedes, allowing Allie to clip her paci onto her shirt before putting it in her mouth.

With that, Allie leaves. Sammy turns to Lindsay, unsure what to do next. Would Lindsay act like her friend or babysitter? What would Linsday let her do? As she looked at Lindsay, she wished she hadn’t wanted her pacifier, knowing it only made her look more like a little.

A slow smile grows on Lindsay’s face. For a split second, Sammy thinks it’s a bad sign.

“Soooo…this is awkward,” Lindsay jokes.

Sammy smiles, happy that Lindsay broke the ice. “Definitwy” Sammy lisps through her pacifier, causing Lindsay to break down laughing.

“I’m sorry, Sammy, but that was just too funny! I’m not laughing at you!” Lindsay admits.

Sammy spits out her pacifier, letting hang on her shirt, face red with embarrassment. She knows Lindsay isn’t making fun of her, but still.

“What should we do?” Lindsay asks, “I kinda want to see what the wreckage of that is.” Lindsay points to the Legos.

Sammy blushes, remembering her tantrum last night. “Well, it’s supposed to be the Millenium Falcon. At least it was until I broke it,” Sammy admits sheepishly.

“Well, why don’t we start over? You always loved your Legos, even when I made you play with Barbies every time. So, sounds like it’s time I play Legos for once! I owe you!”

“You do! Do you know how many times I had to pretend Barbies were fun growing up? And you always made me play with Ken!”

It was Lindsay’s turn to blush. “Sorry! I just loved it and wasn’t good at sharing yet!”

“It’s okay, now you have to play with Legos!”

“Sounds good to me!” Lindsay laughs, “and speaking of Ken…” Lindsay hesitates, realizing she should avoid telling Sammy about boys.

“What about Ken? Ken from school?” Sammy asks, interested.

Lindsay panics, wishing Sammy wouldn’t have put that together. “Oh, it’s nothing. Let’s build some Legos!”

“What about Ken, Lindsay? I want to know! You always had a huge crush on him!”

Lindsay knew she was in trouble. Allie wouldn’t want Sammy hearing about parties and boys. And she definitely didn’t want Sammy to be jealous that she was out going to parties and finally kissed Ken, especially when she had bedtimes and diapers instead of freedom and fun. How was she going to get out of this?

“Tell me, Linds! I know something happened! Don’t think just because I’m a Little now doesn’t mean I don’t know how you look when you have a secret!”

“I don’t know, Sammy. I don’t think it’s really appropriate to talk about now.”

Sammy looks both scandalized and hurt. “W-why not, it’s me, Linds!”

“Sammy…you know I want to tell you, but its not something I’m comfortable talking about with a Little. It’s not fair to you and it’s a bit too mature for Littles.”

“That’s not fair! I’m not a baby, Lindsay! I’m your best friend!”

“I know you aren’t a baby, Sammy,” Lindsay replies hesitantly, “its just…you are a Little now. These things aren’t supposed to be heard by Littles. You don’t need to worry about them!”

Sammy was on the verge of a tantrum. She knew it but was torn. The last thing she wanted to do was act like a tantruming Little in front of Lindsay. But, this was ridiculous. They’d spent hours talking about this stuff all year. How could she say it was inappropriate now?

“Just tell me, Linds! You’re being stupid! I can handle an ‘adult” story!’” Sammy demanded, putting up sarcastic air quotes when she said adult.

Lindsay sighed. “Look, Sammy. I don’t think its appropriate, okay? You can yell at me, but my decision is final.”

“Oh, so now you get to decide everything?”

“Yes, I do, Sammy. Just drop it, please!”

Sammy was seeing red. “No, that’s dumb! You don’t get to tell me what to do! This is bullsh*t.”

Sammy knew she went to far, but didn’t care. She had to tell Lindsay what she thought.

“I really didn’t want to do this, Sammy. But I think it’s time for a timeout. You can’t yell at me like that—and especially not use that language. You can go into timeout now or I’ll have to call Allie to tell her what you just said.”

Tears welled in Sammy’s eyes. This was so unfair. Lindsay was putting her in timeout? Her best friend? Yet, she didn’t want her to call Allie, she couldn’t handle Allie’s disappointment.

Lindsay walked over to Sammy, putting her pacifier into her mouth before giving her a hug. They embraced each other for a minute before anything was said.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I really am. But I have to put you in timeout. Can you go stand in the corner for ten minutes? If you behave I won’t tell Allie about this, okay?”

“O-kay, Windsay,” Sammy sobs, walking to the corner.

Sammy couldn’t believe she was back in timeout again. She never got in trouble at school, but here she was being sent to the corner by her best friend. At least this time, Sammy promised herself, she wouldn’t throw herself down on the ground. She’d stand there like an adult. Even if she didn’t feel like it.

Lindsay watched Sammy as she stared at the corner. She hated that this was all her fault. She never should have brought Ken up. If she hadn’t, they’d be perfectly happy building Legos together.

Once time was up, she walked towards Sammy. She wanted to apologize, but she knew she had to check her diaper first. She hated that she had to do this. She wished Sammy never needed this. But it didn’t matter now, it had been too long since they changed her diaper, she needed to know how wet she was.

“Sammy, it’s been ten minutes, are you ready to play?”

She could see the ghosts of tears on Sammy’s face, though she was noticeably calmer. “Yeth, Windsay,” Sammy whimpers.

“Good, I’m sorry for needing you to go to timeout. Let’s not do that again, okay?”

“Okay.”

“But I need to check your diaper, Sammy,” Lindsay says, trying to sound casual as she pulls down her jeans, checking Sammy’s diaper. It’s wet, but not full.

Sammy shivers in embarrassment. Her best friend just checked her diaper like it was nothing.

“It’s wet, but not ready to change,” Lindsay says, “now can we start playing?”

Go to Chapter Twenty Two.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 20

Lindsay barely slept last night. Today was going to be…interesting. She was going to babysit her best friend. Lindsay practically grew up with Sammy, from innocent elementary slumber parties to swapping their first kiss stories in high school. Even calling her a best friend didn’t do their relationship justice. Sisters fit better.

But today would be radically different than any other time she’d spent with Sammy. They weren’t hanging out as equals, best friends, or sisters. No, Lindsay was babysitting her best friend. She would be responsible for checking—and changing—her best friend’s diapers. Lindsay was in charge of Sammy.

How was she supposed to handle this kind of situation? What could she possibly say to Sammy? Or balance their years of history with Sammy’s current needs? She expected to be sharing design ideas for their dorms, not complimenting how nice Sammy’s nursery looks.

And how would Sammy react to this new relationship? What would happen when Sammy lay on the changing table waiting for Lindsay to put her in a new diaper? Or what happened if Sammy misbehaved? Would Lindsay have to put her best friend in timeout?

It was overwhelming. But Lindsay knew she had to be there for her best friend. Wanted or not, this was Sammy’s new life. Sammy was her best friend, so she would do whatever it took to make Sammy’s life better.

Lindsay knocked on Allie’s door at 12:45 in the afternoon, full of nerves but excited to see Sammy.

“Hey, sis, come in!” Allie says, welcoming Lindsay inside, “you excited for today?”

Lindsay shrugs noncommittally, “I think so, it’s just going to be strange babysitting my best friend.”

“I’m sure it will be, it’s not a situation you ever expected to find yourself in! But I’m sure Sammy will be excited to spend the day with you!”

“I sure hope so, Allie! Where is she?”

“She’s still napping, I figured I’d wake her up once you got here. I want to show you everything before we do so you’re not struggling to find anything today.”

Lindsay notices the shattered Lego set on the ground, “what happened here?”

“Oh, Sammy had a little tantrum last night. She didn’t want to stop building for bed. Had to put her in timeout for the first time.”

“That’s not encouraging, I was really hoping to avoid tantrums or punishing her. It would be super awkward.”

“It comes with the territory, Linds. I know you’ll want to treat her like your former best friend, but she is a Little now. She can’t always control her emotions and they get the best of her. You just have to push your past aside and be firm with her. A ten-minute timeout in the corner will usually calm her down.”

“Ugh, I hope she doesn’t need that. Maybe she’ll be happier after a nap. But…is it mean to admit the thought of seeing Sammy pouting in timeout sounds like the cutest thing.”

“You would have loved seeing her last night, then. Anyway, let's get upstairs, and I’ll give you the lay of the land before we wake her.”

They head upstairs, careful not to wake Sammy as they do.

Lindsay immediately spots Sammy sleeping peacefully in her crib. She walks over to her, peering down over the rails. Sammy is wearing a light blue onesie, matching socks, hair in pigtails, happily sucking on her matching pacifier. It’s impossible to miss the diaper bulging out from her onesie. Lindsay doesn’t need to check her diaper, it’s heavily used.

“Awww!” Lindsay exclaims, “look at her! She looks so cute! And the matching accessories, Allie! I could eat her up!”

 “I know, right? I couldn’t help myself. You know me—only the best for my Little. Anyway, the changing table is here, obviously. These are her daytime diapers, these are for night. The nighttime ones are so thick they make her waddle so much. Changing supplies are here, diaper pail there.”

“Got it.”

Clothes are in the dresser. You probably won’t need a change of clothes, but with Littles you never know. I forgot to mention downstairs, but the fridge is stocked with snacks and juice, and her sippy cups are next to the regular glasses. You can’t miss them. And don’t let her convince you she doesn’t need one, Linds.”

“Okay, okay, no regular glasses, got it.”

“I let Sammy know before I put her down for her nap that you’d be coming over to spend the day with you while I run errands. She seemed excited.”

“What do you mean ‘seemed’ excited?”

“Well, I think she’s in the same place you are. It’s going to be strange for her, too. She wasn’t thrilled at first that you’d see her like this, but she came around eventually.”

Lindsay looks over at Sammy. A fresh wave of nerves washes over her. It was time to wake her up.

Allie walks over to the crib, lowering the bars. She gently touches Sammy’s shoulder. “Sammy, Sammy, time to wake up!”

Sammy slowly stirs. She turns on her back and kicks off her blankets. She stretches her arms and legs, diaper crinkling as she does. She opens her eyes, finding Allie and Lindsay looking down at her.

Sammy’s face flushes red in embarrassment.

“Did you sleep well, Sammy?” Allie asks sweetly.

Sammy spits out her pacifier. “I-I-I guess so,” she stutters.

“Hi, Sammy!” Lindsay adds, “I’m so excited for today!”

Sammy gives a meek smile as she tries to cover herself with her blanket.

“Give her a few minutes to wake up, Linds. She’s always groggy after she wakes up. But first, we need to get you into a dry diaper.”

Sammy’s eyes go wide in trepidation, clearly not wanting to be changed in front of her friend. But before she can say anything, Allie swoops down and picks Sammy up.

Lindsay watches as Sammy is carried to the changing table, unsure what to do. Every part of her wants to hang back, giving her best friend privacy and dignity, even as she knows she needs to be there. She stands there, unmoving, as she decides what to do.

Sammy is lying on the changing table, hands covering her eyes.

“Lindsay, can you come over here? I want to be sure you know how to handle a diaper change.”

Sammy whimpers.

Lindsay walks to the changing table. She puts her hand on Sammy’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. “Sammy, you don’t need to be embarrassed! You know I would never, ever make you feel bad for this!”

Sammy doesn’t move her hands from her face.

“Okay, getting the diaper off is the easy part. But it's better to have the new diaper ready before you remove it. You don’t want her leaking on the changing table.”

Sammy squirms hearing that.

“Grab one there and then fold it in half—yes, just like that—and then fluff it up. Yes, perfect. Now, get the wipes ready and start getting the tabs off.”

Lindsay follows Allie’s instructions, hand shaking slightly as she does. It’s such a foreign feeling changing your best friend’s diaper. Especially as Allie gives instructions while Sammy lies right there. She rips the tabs off Sammy’s diaper, pulling it back.

“Good, now roll it up and toss it in the diaper pail. Perfect. Now, lift Sammy’s legs and slide the clean diaper under her.”

Lindsay does and is surprised at how light Sammy is. She easily lifts Sammy’s legs with one hand, sliding her diaper under with the other.

Okay, perfect. It’s best to warm the wipes a bit, Sammy doesn’t appreciate cold wipes.”

Lindsay watches as Sammy squirms in embarrassment, wishing she knew what to say to her best friend. She wipes Sammy down, feeling more awkward than ever before.

“Now, all you need to do is powder her. Great. And then tape it up, ensuring her leak guards are standing straight.”

Lindsay follows the instructions.

“There, all done, Sammy!” Allie coos, “nothing to be embarrassed about!”

Sammy still keeps her hands over her face. Her red face was unmistakable even with her hands covering most of her face.

“Sammy, sweetie, can you help me choose something to wear, or would you prefer to keep wearing your onesie?” Allie hoped getting to choose her clothes would snap Sammy out of her embarrassment.

Sammy slowly moves her hands. “I-I want t-to choose, Allie.”

“Great! Thank you for helping, Sammy!”

Lindsay listens, still not used to hearing Sammy talked down to like a toddler.

Allie shows Sammy a few choices before Sammy settles on a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans.

Lindsay can’t help but notice the jeans have no buttons or fly, only an elastic waistband. But she’s happy the outfit looks surprisingly mature, much less infantile than the onesie she wore. It would surely make both of them more comfortable in these clothes.

Even still, Lindsay was worried about being alone with Sammy. Seeing her like this made it so much more real.

“Alright, let’s get downstairs and eat some lunch before I go. How does that sound?” Allie asks both of them.

“That sounds good, Allie!” Lindsay answers, “what do you say Sammy, you as hungry as I am?”

Sammy nods shyly.

“Sammy, it’s me! You don’t need to act all shy!” Lindsay prods Sammy.

“I’m sorry, Linds. It’s hard having you see me like…like…this.”

“Do you really think I care? I’ll never judge you for this! I just want to spend time with you!”

“R-really?”

“Yes, really! Now, can we go downstairs and eat? I’m starving!” Without even thinking about it, Lindsay reaches her hand out to Sammy. To her surprise, Sammy grabs it, holding her hand as she follows Lindsay downstairs.

Go to Chapter Twenty One.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 19

“Wake up, Sammy! They finished installing everything, it’s just us again!”

Sammy stirred sluggishly, not wanting to wake up.

“C’mon, let’s get you up, your diaper is about to burst,” Allie says, picking Sammy up, “let’s take your new changing table for a test drive.”

Sammy didn’t respond, perfectly happy to let Allie do the work of carrying her, even if it made her feel little. She wasn’t excited to see her new nursery, but she was too tired to fight Allie. She just wanted to get out her diaper. It was cold and uncomfortable.

“Here we are, Sammy!”

The room looked exactly how Sammy expected a toddler’s room to look. Except it wasn’t for a toddler—it was for her.

“But Allie, you said I wouldn’t have a crib!” Sammy whined, immediately noticing the bars surrounding the bed.

“It’s not a crib, I promise! Look at the bars, Sammy! If you really wanted to, you could climb over them. Cribs are designed to keep babies safely inside, so this isn’t a crib!”

“But why do I need bars at all?”

“It’s just to keep you from falling out as you sleep, nothing more. I’m sure you won’t even notice them.”

“Hphmf,” Sammy huffs.

Sammy feels herself carried inside the room before she’s gently placed on the changing table.

“How’s this, much better than the ground, huh?” Allie prods cheerfully, “isn’t it comfortable?”

“I guess,” Sammy concedes, unwilling to admit how comfortable it was.

“Rockets or astronauts?” Allie asks, holding up two diapers.

“Rockets.”

“Don’t be a pouty pants, Sammy! Or does some need a…” Allie says cryptically, “tickle fight!” Allie starts tickling Sammy’s tummy, laughing as she does.

Sammy does her best to resist, but succumbs to laughter, “okay, okay! I’m laughing, Allie! It tickles!”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Allie says, as she rips open the tabs of Sammy diaper and wipes. “Houston, are we go for launch?” she asks Sammy in a mock serious voice.

“Permission granted!” Sammy chirps.

“Copy that, Houston. Ready for launch.” Allie counts down from five, lifting Sammy’s legs up at one, “Houston, we have lift off!”

Allie watches as Sammy giggles, happily playing along, enjoying her diaper change. A minute later, Sammy’s diaper is taped into place.

“All done, Sammy!” Allie says before removing Sammy’s shirt.

“Wh-what are you doing, Allie?”

“Just changing you into something more comfortable,” Allie says as she grabs something out of the drawer. She returns with something pink. “Okay, can you sit up for me, Sammy?”

Sammy does as she’s told, eying the outfit.

“Arms up!” Allie fits the sleeves through Sammy’s arms, pulling the outfit down.

“What is this, Allie? It doesn’t feel like a t-shirt, it’s tight.”

“It’s not a t-shirt, silly. It’s a onesie. Lay back down,” Allie says as she lifts Sammy’s legs, pulling the onesie over her.

“B-but I don’t want to wear a onesie, Allie! They’re for babies!”

“Oh, stop, Sammy! They’re super comfy!” Allie responds, pulling the snaps together, “There, how’s that feel?”

Sammy looks down at her diaper. The onesies does nothing to hide her diaper. If anything, it makes it more obvious. Plus, her legs are completely exposed.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Allie says, rushing back to the dresser. She returns with two long socks. “Here, just in case your legs get cold.

Sammy watches as Allie slides two pink and white striped socks up her legs, stopping a few inches above her knees. If it wasn’t so babyish, she’d appreciate how they matched her onesie.

“Now, I have to take care of some work tonight, do you want to play with some legos while I work?”

“Yayyy!” Sammy replies, “legos!”

“Which set do you want to build today?” Allie smiles, glad her suggestion worked.

“I want to build the Millenium Falcon!” Sammy squeals, “I love Star Wars!”

“Wow, that’s a big set! Are you sure you want to do that first?”

“Yes, please Allie! Please!”

“Okay, okay, just asking!” Allie gets the set and places it on the living room floor.

Sammy wastes no time opening the packaging.

“I’m going to be right in the other room, Sammy. I don’t want you doing anything else but build, okay? If you need anything, just ask and I’ll help you, okay?”

Sammy barely heard her, consumed in building. Allie smiles before heading to her office.

An hour later, Sammy is startled as she feels a hand reach down into her diaper.

“Sorry, sweetie, just needed to check! Wow, look how far you’ve gotten!”

Sammy had made an impressive amount of progress for an hour’s work. Of course, its hardly surprised Allie. Sammy may be a Little, but she wasn’t dumb.

A few hours and another diaper change later, Allie told Sammy it was time for bed.

“But Allie, I’m not done yet! Twenty more minutes, please! It’s only 8!”

“Sorry, Sammy, it’s your bedtime, no buts!”

“NO! I’m not tired Allie! I don’t want to go to bed!” Sammy howled.

“Sammy, do not raise your voice at me. It’s time for bed when I say it’s time for bed.”

“I don’t care! I want to play with my legos!”

“Careful, Sammy, do you want to go to timeout?”

“No, I want to play! It’s not fair!” Sammy screeches, slamming her legos down, shattering her progress.

“Okay, if you’re going to break things, then you need a timeout, Sammy.” Allie picks Sammy up, carrying her to the corner. “I want you to stay in this corner for 10 minutes and think about how you’re acting.”

Before Sammy can answer, she feels a pacifier shoved in her mouth. She huffs, anger flooding her brain. She wants to scream at Allie, at anyone. Left without options, she decides to throw herself down, Allie never said she had to stand.

She fell to the floor, diaper poofing loudly as she did. The sound made her feel so childish, so immature. Overwhelmed, Sammy cried. By the time was up, her sobs had slowed significantly.

Allie can’t help but watch Sammy, pouting in the corner, in her matching onesie and socks. She’s just so cute, Allie thinks to herself.

“Okay, are you calm, Sammy? Do you have anything to say to me?”

“I-I sowwy, Awwie,” Sammy says through her pacifier.

“Thank you for saying that,” Allie says, kneeling down in front of Sammy, “I don’t like putting you in timeout, but if you are going to yell I have no choice, understand?”

“Yeth,” Sammy mumbles.

Allie looks into her teary eyes. She knows Sammy can’t help it, but it’s her job as a Caregiver. Her heart suddenly melts as she sees Sammy’s hands go up, begging to be picked up.

Allie reaches down and picks Sammy up, holding her against her chest. She heads to the rocking chair in Sammy’s room, glad she purchased the oversized version. They fit perfectly.

Sammy rests her head on Allie’s chest, her hand pulling down the hem of her blouse. Allie slowly rocks the chair, watching as Sammy’s eyes grow heavy, stroking her hair.

Half asleep, Sammy pulls down Allie’s blouse, exposing her breast. She instinctively latches onto Allie’s nipple.

Allie lets it happen, knowing full well Sammy wouldn’t actually be able to breastfeed, but too lost in the moment to care. She’d never felt more connected to Sammy than in this moment.

She made a mental note to schedule an appointment with her doctor. She wanted to do this every night.

Allie continued to rock long after Sammy had started to snore, holding Sammy against her. She was happier than she’d ever been in her life.

Go to Chapter 20.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 18

Read Chapter 17 here.

As they walked out of Littles’R’Us, Alyssa stopped and kneeled in front of Sammy. “Thank you for handling this like such a big girl, Sammy. I know it was difficult for you, but I’m really proud of you!”

A proud smile crept across Sammy’s face, “thank you, Allie. It was a lot to take it, but I’m glad I did it with you! I’d be so scared if you weren’t my Caregiver…”

Alyssa leaned in to hug Sammy. As she did, she remembered her favorite ice cream parlor was next door to Littles’R’Us. “I’m glad you’re my Little, Sammy. I want you to always remember that. Even when you get mad or yell at me, I’ll always love you. And, since you’ve been so good today, what do you think about getting some ice cream before we take the shuttle home?”

Ice cream did sound amazing to Sammy. “Yes, I love ice cream!”

Alyssa held out her hand. To her surprise, Sammy grabbed it without hesitation. Alyssa beamed.

“What flavor do you want, Sammy?” Alyssa asks.

“Ummmm....pink bubble gum!” Sammy bubbled.

“Cone or cup?” the man at the counter asks.

“Cone!” Sammy responds immediately.

“Are you sure, Sammy? I don’t want you to drop it!” Alyssa added.

“I can use cones! I won’t spill, Allie!” Sammy assured Alyssa.

“Well, okay, Sammy, but you need to be careful!” Alyssa entreated.

The man handed the ice cream to Alyssa, and they went to find a table. Alyssa hesitantly gives Sammy her ice cream

“Mmmmm, I love bubble gum, it’s so yummy and pink!” Sammy chirps happily. She greedily licks it. Ice cream smudges on her cheeks.

Alyssa watches on, taking it all in. Sammy looks so cute right now. Not even realizing how childish she looks or the mess she’s making. She couldn’t resist another picture. “Sammy, can you smile for me?”

Sammy does, pink ice cream smeared on her cheeks. Alyssa’s heart flutters as she sends it to her Mom and Lindsay.

“I wanna see!” Sammy demands.

Alyssa shows it to her. Sammy snapped out of her Little haze. “W-why didn’t you tell me I had ice cream on me, Allie? It’s so embarrassing!”

“Oh Sammy, stop, you looked so cute! You’re doing such a great job with your cone!” Alyssa gushed, wiping Sammy’s face with a napkin.

Sammy huffed but went back to her ice cream cone. Two licks later, Sammy knocks the ice cream off the cone, hitting the ground with a splat.

Sammy immediately reacted. Tears welling in her eyes. “I-I s-s-sorry, Allie,” Sammy blubbered, “I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s okay, Sammy, that’s why I think you should use cups in the future.” Alyssa tried to say over Sammy’s sobs.

Suddenly, the man working the counter appears with another scoop of ice cream and a rag. He kneels in front of Sammy. “Don’t worry, little one! We all drop our ice cream every once in a while! But know what fixes it? A new scoop!” he said showing Sammy the new cup.

Alyssa gives him a massive smile, “what do you say to him, Sammy!”

“T-thank you!” Sammy says, composing herself as she grabs the cup.

“You’re very welcome,” Sammy replies.

Alyssa gets up to pay for the additional scoop. “No need, ma’am,” he says, “I opened up next to a Littles’R’Us so I can make Littles happy, dropped ice cream is part of the job!”

“Well, I appreciate it!” Alyssa responds as he walks away to help another customer.

After Sammy finishes, she yawns deeply. Alyssa realizes it's getting close to nap time for Sammy. They should probably head home soon or Sammy will have another tantrum.

“You ready to head home?”

“Yeah.”

They get back to Littles’R’Us as the shuttle arrives.

“Perfect timing!” Alyssa says to the driver. She provides him with her address, and they get into the shuttle.

Sammy’s heart sinks when she sees the car seat. “Do I have to use it, Allie?”

“Yes, Sammy, but it’s not too far of a drive!”

“…okay,” Sammy whines.

Alyssa lifts Sammy into the seat and places her down. She pulls the straps over Sammy’s shoulders, clicking them into the buckle pulled over Sammy’s diaper. “Is it too tight, Sammy?” she asks, adjusting the straps.

Sammy just shakes her head no. Being strapped in like this, diaper exposed, is overwhelming. She hates that this is how she will sit in every car from now on—trapped like a baby, waiting for their Caregiver to release them.

Tears well up in her eyes again. She’s about to cry when Alyssa leans over and puts her pacifier in Sammy’s mouth. Sammy immediately calms down. Still on the verge of tears but significantly less emotionally volatile.

“Don’t worry, Sammy, you’re okay,” Alyssa says, stroking Sammy’s hair.

The last thing Sammy remembers before falling asleep is looking into Alyssa’s eyes, happy.

Alyssa carries Sammy back into the house, putting Sammy down to nap in Alyssa’s room. With any luck, Sammy will sleep the entire time they install everything in Sammy’s nursery. She checks Sammy’s diaper, noting that it should last another hour or two, perfect timing to try out the new changing table.

Alyssa directed the installers on where to place all the furniture, realizing that Littles’R’Us were highly competent and thorough. Four men were sent, each effectively handling their tasks. Two men went to work removing the old bed and building Sammy’s crib (though Alyssa knows not to call it that yet), another man went to work on the changing table.

The fourth man went around the house, babyproofing anything dangerous. Plastic covers were placed on every socket. Any sharp edges of tables or counters received a small plastic covering. Once he finished, he brought in the boxes of diapers and clothes, unpacking them.

Within an hour and a half, they were finished.

After Alyssa thanked them for everything, she went into Sammy’s nursery. It looked better than she ever imagined. Sammy’s crib looked so cute. The changing table was ready for Sammy, diapers expertly stacked for easy access, and changing supplies ready to go. She went through the dresser, looking at all Sammy’s clothes.

Alyssa sat on the rocking chair, tears in her eyes. She had finally gotten everything she dreamed about. Sammy was the perfect Little. She felt needed. Whole.

She Facetimed her Mom and Lindsay, wanting to show them the nursery.

“Oh my gosh, Allie, it looks AMAZING!” her mom congratulates her.

“I love it, too!” Lindsay added, “and Sammy looked so cute eating ice cream! I can’t wait to see her again!”

“Where is Sammy?” her Mom asks.

“She’s taking a nap,” Allie responds, “I wanted to show you guys before she woke up.”

“If there is one thing Sammy will like, it’s all the naps she can take. I swear she took more naps than anyone I ever met,” Lindsay jokes.

“Well, now they’re necessary, if she goes past naptime she has the cutest tantrums,” Allie jokes, “oh, and speaking of the cutest, look at these diapers! I can’t even.” Allie turns the camera to Sammy’s diapers with rocket ships and astronaut teddy bears.

Both her Mom and Lindsay squeal in delight.

“Those are so cute, Allie!” Lindsay says.

“She threw a tantrum when I suggested them, but she eventually came around.”

“Well, I’m glad she did, they’re perfect for her!” Lindsay said.

“Oh, that reminds me, Linds. I need to run some errands tomorrow. I planned to take Sammy, but I had a better idea. What if you “hang out” with her tomorrow while I’m gone?”

“What do you mean “hang out?” Lindsay asks, “why did you say it like that?”

“Well, I don’t consider it hanging out anymore. You’ll be here as her babysitter, not her best friend. But we don’t need to call it that just yet.”

“Ohhh, I get it,” Lindsay replied, “but sure, I’d love to!”

“Great,” Allie responds, “but you will be responsible for her diapers. And, hard as it will be for you, you will be in charge of her as a Little. I don’t want you treating her like your old best friend. You can have fun and talk, but she can only do Little appropriate things. I don’t want you watching adult movies or TV shows, okay?”

Lindsay frowned a bit, understanding what this meant. “Well, she is your Little, Allie. I guess I knew this day would come eventually. When I went from Linds, Sam’s best friend, to Lindsay, Sammy’s babysitter.”

“Do you know how to change a diaper, dear?” her mom chimes in.

“Of course I do, Mom,” Lindsay snaps back, “I’m a Caregiver. It’s instinctual.”

“I’ll show you anyway,” Allie responds, “why don’t you come around one tomorrow after Sammy’s nap?”

“Sounds good!”

Finished with the call, Alyssa heads to wake up Sammy, wondering how she’d react to her new nursery.

Go to Chapter Nineteen.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 17

Read Chapter Sixteen here.

Sammy sheepishly waddled out of the changing area, hyper-aware of how thick the nighttime diaper between her legs. She sucked on her pacifier, fully aware of how childish it made her look but needing the newfound soothing power it held over her. She had never looked—or felt—so little.

She found it significantly more challenging to keep up with Allie. Every step required her to swing her legs awkwardly to move around the mountain of padding between her legs. It was slow, humiliating work.

Alyssa couldn’t help but smile as she watched Sammy. Nothing could have prepared her for something this cute. With Sammy distracted, looking around at the other shoppers, hoping to avoid being spotted, Alyssa took a video of Sammy waddling behind her, a pink pacifier in her mouth and a matching pink diaper peeking below her skirt. She immediately sent it to her Mom.

They finally made it to the clothing section. Unlike the other sections, the clothing section was open and easier to maneuver. Far less oppressive than the massive rows of goods elsewhere. Though the section was sprawling, taking up at least half the store.

To Sammy’s horror, the first section they arrived at was onesies. She knew Allie would buy them, but, as with every other aisle they passed today, seeing them in person made it much more real. For some reason, they looked far more babyish to her than the diapers or even her pacifier.

It was the uniform of the babies—of Littles. Engineered to make a Caregiver’s life easier, with easy access to their Little’s diaper. Her diapers, now. The snaps at the crotch were visible proof of her new status in life.

“Which ones do you like, Sammy?” Allie’s voice echoes into Sammy’s ear.

Sammy ultimately opted for solid color onesies, unable to bring herself to choose ones that say “Lil’ Stinker” or “Diapered Princess.” At least the solid colors would give her some dignity, she hoped. She was, however, disheartened as Allie scanned at least 15 onesies. So many, she thought dejectedly.

Next up came shorts, skirts, and pants. At least these, Sammy noticed, didn’t scream Little like onesies. Sure, they didn’t have anywhere near the sophistication that she preferred from her favorite stores like Zara or Abercrombie, but they didn’t feel like they were made for actual toddlers.

Of course, there were still plenty of reminders. None of the jeans or pants had buttons or zippers, opting for elastic waistbands that Sammy knew would make it easier for Caregivers to access their Little’s diapers. And, it was hard to miss the signs indicating that the crotches were designed with diapers in mind, capable of fitting even the bulkiest diapers comfortably.

Sammy was surprised when Allie, without warning, pulled down her skirt. “Sammy, can you put your leg into these? I need to see if they fit.”

“C-can’t we use a changing room, Allie?” Sammy moaned.

“There’s nobody here, Sammy. Besides, they’ll know you’re in a diaper anyway.”

Twenty tedious minutes later, Allie was satisfied they found enough jeans, skirts, and shorts—even a few pairs of overalls with more snaps on the bottom. Sammy wasn’t sure she liked the idea that they could all fit over her overnight diaper but decided not to bring that up to Allie. At least she found skirts that covered her diaper, unlike the one she had on.

As they moved on to tops, Sammy realized she’d never wear any tight-fitting or fancy tops she preferred. From the looks of it, she’d be expected to wear cute T-shirts and—even more gut-wrenching—something called diaper shirts, meant to be worn without pants. Sammy did her best to find the least Little Little clothes, but nothing she found would truly hide her Little status.

“What will happen to all my old clothes, Allie?” Sammy wonders, taking out her pacifier.

“Well, I think we can donate them to charity.”

“Can I keep some of my clothes?”

Allie sighs, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetie. I don’t want you to have reminders everywhere of your old life. It will only make things harder. I know it sounds harsh, but it’s what I think is best for you.”

“So I don’t even get a say?” Sammy says, defiance rising in her voice.

“Not in this, no. It’s my job as your Caregiver to do what I think is best for my Little. So, I’m sorry, but the answer is no.”

Enraged, Sammy chucks her pacifier on the ground, “that’s bullsh*t! You don’t get to decide what to do with my things, Allie!”

“I’ll let that slide for now, Sammy, but I will not allow you to throw things or cuss again. Do you understand me? I know you’re angry, but that is not how you handle your feelings.”

“Or what?” Sammy seethed.

“Or you’ll end up with a red bottom or spend the next 20 minutes in timeout.”

Sammy stared at Allie, trying to decide if it was a bluff. She wouldn’t really spank me? Sammy thought. All she knew was that now wasn’t the time to find out. She’d fight this battle later, in private.

“Fine,” Sammy whined.

“Can you pick up your pacifier, then?”

Sammy huffs as she walks over to it. As she grabs it, she gives it to Allie, unwilling to put it back in her mouth.

“Thank you, Sammy. Do you want another paci?”

Sammy was torn. She hated that she did want another pacifier. But also wouldn’t admit that to Allie when she tried, and failed, to act like anything but a Little. Allie decided for her, opening a second box for a new, white pacifier with pink polka dots. As angry as she was, Sammy accepted the new pacifier. Unlike the last pacifier, this one came with a tether attached to Sammy’s shirt.

“We're almost done, okay? You just need to pick out a car seat, and then we can go to the toy section, as long as you behave. Can you do that for me, Sammy?”

“Yeth, Awwie,” Sammy said sheepishly through her pacifier.

Sammy did not like the idea of a car seat. She didn’t understand why she needed one anyway. Just because she was a Little didn’t mean she physically shrunk. She wouldn’t need a car seat if she were a Neutral. But Sammy assumed they would be nothing more than a glorified booster seat, nothing too embarrassing.

That thought was immediately thrown out the window as they reached the L2 car seats. They were definitely not booster seats, Sammy realized dejectedly. No, these were massive. The car seats didn’t sit on the regular seats; they must be the seat.

“W-why are they tho big, Awwie?” Sammy fretted.

“Well, you’re too big for a regular car seat. These car seats are installed into the car itself.”

Sammy spit out her pacifier and pointed to the L3 car seats, which were the glorified booster seats she’d imagined, “why can’t I use those?”

“Those are for L3s, Sammy. You need an L2 car seat unless you want me to get a ticket every time we drive anywhere.”

“B-but these ones are so big. They look the ones babies use,” Sammy protested.

“I know, but look at all the cool things they have! They have cupholders, pockets for your toys, and even have the same foam comfort lining as all the nicest mattresses. You’ll be traveling in the pinnacle of comfort!”

“I’ll be traveling strapped down like a baby,” Sammy grumbled.

“Well, that’s just to keep you safe, Sammy. I can’t have you moving around the car getting into trouble.”

Sammy huffed but didn’t push it any further.

“Now, want to test a few out?”

“Fine…”

Sammy waddled down the aisle, looking at the different options. If she had to choose one, she would choose the most expensive. That would show Allie, she thought. She found one that had all the bells and whistles. “This one.”

“Well, sit down in it to see how it feels.”

Sammy did. She would never admit it to Allie, but it was significantly more comfortable than any other chair she’d ever sat in. Her body fit it like a glove; it was like sitting on a cloud. Maybe this wasn’t so bad…

At least until she felt Allie strapping her in. The sudden loss of freedom startled Sammy. She felt like a prisoner, unable to escape. This wasn’t as comfortable. Allie stepped back to take it all in. Sammy desperately tried to unlock herself, fidgeting with the belt to unlock it.

“Sorry, Sammy, but only I can release you. Otherwise, it defeats the purpose.”

Anger brewed in Sammy. “Let me o—,” Sammy suddenly stopped midsentence. A violent cramp shocked Sammy into silence. Before she could even react, she felt her body tense as she pushed.

“No, no, no, no,” Sammy whimpered in her head.

But there was nothing for it. She could feel the mess sliding its way into her diaper as she helplessly pushed against her own will. A grunt escaped her mouth as she stared straight ahead in shame.

There she was, trapped in a car seat, pooping herself. Her body defying her attempts to look and sound like a mature woman. Forcing her to look every bit like the Little she was. She pushed again, grateful that Allie pretended to be interested in another car seat. A few minutes later, she was finished.

“A-allie…I’m done.”

Allie came strolling back, her face both sympathetic and worried. “I think we need to get you back to the changing table, Sammy.” Allie unlocked Sammy and picked her up, standing beside her.

Sammy felt herself turned around as her skirt was lifted. Another ignoble diaper check. Sammy felt her waistband pulled back as Allie peered inside.

“Looks like these diapers work,” Allie says cheerfully, trying to diffuse the tension in Sammy’s eyes.

“Why d-do you need to check me when you know I-I…went?” Sammy whimpers.

“I just need to see if we have a blowout, Sammy,” Allie says as she slings the diaper bag over her shoulder. Returning to Sammy, she places the pacifier back in her mouth. She carefully picks Sammy up, hand skillfully resting under Sammy but avoiding the mess in her diaper.

Sammy once again found herself in another humiliating position on the way to a changing table. She hid her face in Allie’s neck, fully aware that her messy diaper must be entirely on display. Just when Sammy thought she couldn’t feel more Little, she finds a way. All she could do was lean forward to avoid touching the rapidly cooling mess in her diaper.

The one saving grace for Sammy was the changing tables were empty. She didn’t know if she could have handled a messy diaper change in front of anyone else. Sammy hated messy diaper changes. It never went quickly. All she could do was silently lay there as she felt Allie wipe her bottom, wishing she went faster. To Sammy’s delight, Sammy saw Allie fluffing a daytime diaper.

A few minutes later, they were back at their cart. Sammy tested several other car seats but ultimately chose the first one she tried. Allie scanned it and they headed off to the toy section.

Before they got to Littles’R’Us, Sammy looked forward to choosing some new toys. But after seeing how infantile everything in the store was, Sammy now dreaded it, assuming it would be only toddler toys.

So she was pleasantly surprised when she got there, realizing the toys were cool. Well, except for the L1 toys. She felt a pang of sympathy for the L1s. But her toys, at least, were fantastic. There were awesome, complex Lego sets, board games, things she’d actually play with.

Naturally, she leaned towards the Legos. She chose a bunch of sets and a box of assorted pieces to help round out her collection. She always loved Legos; now she can play with them whenever she wants and not have to worry about people thinking she’s childish anymore. The one good thing about being a Little.

“Okay, Sammy, I think we got everything! You ready to head out?”

Sammy nodded.

After Allie paid the bill, they went to the service desk to schedule the installation.

“We can have everything installed today by 3 PM, ma’am,” the service worker said, “and you can leave your car with us. We will install and deliver your car seat when we install your furniture. Our courtesy shuttle will take you home now.”

“Great!” Allie responds. Sammy smiled. She made it through Littles’R’Us. One step closer to a puppy.

Go to Chapter 18.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 16

Read Chapter Fifteen here.

Alyssa smiled. They were making progress. At least Sammy decided on the rest of her diapers without much more of a fuss. Still, there were plenty more opportunities for meltdowns ahead.

It wasn’t easy, but Sammy managed to pick out her daytime, nighttime, and swim diapers without feeling horrible. Even when she looked at the nighttime diaper samples, which she swore were twice as thick as the daytime diapers. But she found some cute—and she hated that she thought they were cute—pink ones that had a different Disney Princess on each one.

Choosing swim diapers felt even more strange. The thought of needing diapers even to swim made her blush harder than she anticipated. Another thing to worry about. And how she could hide those poofy diapers under her swimsuit was something she wouldn’t let herself dwell on. That’s future Sammy’s problem, she said to herself.

Sammy had to distract herself from watching Allie scan all the diapers, though. She kept scanning and scanning. The number of diapers piling up. And she would go through every single one, whether she wanted to or not.

She still wasn’t used to the idea she’d be in diapers every day for the rest of her life. Knowing that her last diaper-free day was behind her. That she would never use the toilet again. The toilet would become nothing more than an ornament, a memorial in the bathroom. Everything will end up in the seemingly endless supply of diapers Allie was scanning.

Sammy was startled back to reality. She felt Allie’s hand reach under her skirt, checking her diaper. It was done so casually, so mechanically that Sammy felt even more infantile. Apparently, Allie decided that she’d check her diapers the same way as any other toddler.

“You’re a little wet, Sammy,” Allie said matter-of-factly, “but I think you can go another hour or so.”

“Okay,” Sammy responded meekly.

“Now, there’s a few more things we need in the L1/L2 combined section before we move on. Sippy cups and bottles are the next aisle over, then—”

“Alyssa? I thought I recognized you!” A woman interjected, happy to see Alyssa.

“Oh, wow, hi Linda, it’s great to see you,” Alyssa responds, “didn’t expect to run into you in the diaper aisle!”

Linda was one of the few women that matched Alyssa in height. Her smile was contagious. She seemed every bit as warm and comforting as Alyssa. Standing next to her was a shy girl who looked to be a few years older than Sammy. She was dressed a bit more…mature than Sammy, though still obviously looking every bit like a Little. Sammy could detect no diaper bulge, though.

“Yeah, Emily here has been having a bit of a problem staying dry during naptime at preschool. Her pull-ups aren’t cutting it anymore, so her teacher recommended she bring some diapers until she gets it under control.”

Emily’s face flushed red. Unlike Sammy, she clearly never expected to be in diapers. She looked at Sammy, almost daring her to say something. Sammy offered her a sympathetic smile.

“But enough about me, Allie, you didn’t tell me you adopted a Little! That’s so exciting! I’ve been wondering when it would happen!”

“It only happened a few days ago! This is Sammy, my Little.”

Linda beamed at Sammy. “Hi, Sammy! It’s nice to meet you! You’re a lucky girl, Allie is probably the best person I’ve ever met!”

Sammy stood there, embarrassed. “T-thank you,” Sammy mumbled, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“Sammy is my little sister Lindsay’s best friend. You met her a few times when we were at USC. She took her classification results pretty hard. She’s an L2, but I knew I couldn’t let her go to an adoption center. I’ve known her too long to let that happen.”

Emily gave Sammy a piteous look upon hearing Sammy was an L2.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that! I know it can be hard at first, Sammy, but you are in great hands,” Linda says before turning to Emily, “this is my Little, Emily. She’s an L3.”

“Hi Sammy,” Emily adds.

“Nice to meet you,” Sammy says, trying to sound as mature as possible.

“Well, I hate to run, Allie, but we need to run, I need to drop Emily off with her diapers before I rush to work,” Linda said, “but we should schedule a playdate soon so we can catch up!”

“That would be great!” Allie agrees, “it’s been way too long. I’ll call you soon to set something up!”

Moments later, Allie and Sammy are alone again. Sammy was still recovering, she’d never met another Little in person. Seeing an L3 made her jealous, if she had to be Little, why couldn’t she have been an L3?

“Linda is so sweet,” Allie says, “she was one of my best friends when I was at USC. I don’t know why we lost touch…but, anyway, where were we?”

Sammy didn’t want to be the one who reminded Allie about her sippy cups. So she just shot Allie an innocent look of uncertainty.

“Oh, that’s right! We need to get you some bottles and sippy cups!”

“Do I really need bottles, Allie? Or sippy cups? I’m not a baby and I can drink without spilling.”

“You’re not the one who will have to clean up the spills, Sammy. And besides, won’t it just be easier not having to worry about spilling?”

Sammy was willing to concede the sippy cups, but not the bottles. “I guess so, Allie, but do I really need a baby bottles?”

“You don’t need to use them all the time, Sammy, but I’m sure every once in a while it will be easier for you. Especially when you’re really tired. I’ll only get a few and we can figure it out as we go.”

“Fine,” Sammy whimpers.

“Oh, look at these Sammy!” Allie exclaims, pointing to a set of cups, “these match your diapers! Look they all have princesses on them!”

Sammy wasn’t sure about this new Disney Princess motif. Sure, she loved them growing up, but to go back to them like this wasn’t what she ever expected. “Those are fine,” Sammy says.

They move to the next aisle. A whole row dedicated to pacifiers. A seemingly endless supply of colors, variations, and sizes. Just looking at them filled Sammy with emotion.

“Okay, Sammy, try not to get overwhelmed with choices,” Allie says, mistaking the look on Sammy’s face.

Sammy’s eye’s begin to tear up again. Pacifiers were for babies. Not her.

Alyssa realizes in the nick of time what Sammy was thinking. She found a cute pink pacifier, scanned it, and opened the packaging. Before Sammy could react, she placed it in her mouth.

The foreign object startled Sammy. But to her surprise, before she could spit it out or yell at Allie, her mouth started sucking on the nipple. It was…calming. Her mind wanted to reject it, but couldn’t. No, this was okay.

Alyssa smiled as she watched Sammy accept it. She’d been waiting for this moment since she asked Sammy to be her Little. Nothing soothes a tantruming Little faster than her pacifier.

“How do you like it, Sammy?” she coos.

It took a few seconds for Sammy to respond. “ith nithe I gueth,” Sammy said clumsily, not used to talking with it in her mouth.

“Well I think you look so cute,” Allie laughs, “now can we choose some pacifiers?”

Even Sammy was startled how much her pacifier calmed her. She almost didn’t even care how she looked. A few minutes later, Sammy had picked out a collection of them. As they moved to the next aisle, she didn’t even think about taking it out.

The next section was changing tables. Alyssa didn’t bother asking Sammy her input for this. She looked at each one in detail, deciding which one fit her needs best. Each of them looked the exact same to Sammy, but Alyssa looked at each like it was completely different. Finally, Alyssa looked satisfied and scanned the one she wanted.

They reached the changing table pad section. Alyssa had Sammy lay on each one, asking her which one felt the most comfortable. “Make sure you choose a comfortable one, Sammy, You’ll be spending a good amount of time on it!”

Once Sammy chose, they went to the bedding section. Sammy’s heart sank when she saw most of the selection was cribs. “Do I really need a crib, Allie?”

“Well, that depends, honey. If I catching you sneaking out of bed too often, yes. But for now I think we can settle on a hybrid bed. The ones over there have much smaller railings to keep you from falling out of bed. But if necessary, it can convert into a crib.”

The process went remarkably similar to the changing table. Alyssa looked at each model in detail, ultimately choosing without Sammy’s input. Sammy, however, got to choose her own mattress.

“We’re making great time!” Alyssa grinned, “you’re doing such a good job, Sammy. I’m proud of you!”

“Thankth,” Sammy responded, blushing at the realization she’s had her pacifier in the whole time.

Sammy watched Alyssa as she fumbled with something in the cart. She saw a flash of something pink before Alyssa turned around and walked over to her. Alyssa was checking her diaper before she could react.

“Wow, Sammy, you really soaked this, I’m glad I checked! We need to get you changed really quick.”

Without warning, Alyssa picked Sammy up and carefully placed her in the cart, making sure Sammy’s feet went through each opening. Sammy felt her diaper squish as she was placed down. She didn’t remember having a single accident.

Though that was the least of Sammy’s concerns. Being picked up without any warning made her feel so tiny. Especially now, as she was essentially face to face with Alyssa pushing the cart. She looked down, realizing her swollen diaper was on full display, her skirt unable to cover the diaper.

“Sorry, Sweetie, but it was just easier this way.”

As Sammy was pushed to the back of the store, she tried to ignore the smiles of other Caregivers as they saw her, eyes always drifting down to her diaper. There were the “awws” and “she’s so cute!” every time she passed anyone.

Finally, they reached the changing area. The women’s bathroom had a series of changing tables. Alyssa swung the diaper bag on her shoulder before picking Sammy up, laying her down next to another Little. The Little showed no sign of reaction, nor said anything in return to her Caregiver’s questions. Sammy assumed she must be an L1. The Caregiver gave Sammy a wave.

As she watched, Sammy felt the tabs being ripped from her diaper. She suddenly felt embarrassed again, sucking on her pacifier harder than ever. To her horror, Sammy realized Alyssa had picked out a nighttime diaper for Sammy. It’s size was immediately apparent as Alyssa fluffed it.

Alyssa noticed Sammy’s apprehension. “I know it’s a nighttime diaper, Sammy, but we have to go look at clothes and car seats next, and I want to make sure everything we choose one that fits all your diapers, okay?”

Sammy didn’t want to wear it but wanted to get out of this changing room as soon as possible. Public diaper changes were always so embarrassing. She just nods silently.

As the diaper is pulled up to her stomach, Sammy realizes just how much thicker it actually was. Even dry it felt thicker than the soggy diaper she was just changed out of.

“There, all done, Sammy,” Allie bubbled, picking Sammy up and putting her down.

Sammy realizes how much harder it is to walk like this. She couldn’t put her legs together even if she wanted to. The diaper was clearly visible below her skirt. Sammy can only imagine how she looks right now, standing there in a diaper her clothes do nothing to hide, a pacifier that matches her diaper in her mouth.

She doesn’t think it could get any worse until she tries to take a step. She started waddling like a baby taking their first ever steps, unsteady on their feet.

“Okay, Sammy, you ready?”

Go to Chapter 17.