My Adoption (Patreon)

By Max Harper

Chapter 1: Finding Mommy

I checked the message notifications of my YourLife app. I had been lurking around the site for some time now and while my persona there had been minimal, I was starting to gain some attention for my fantasy posts. There was a wide breadth of content and fetishes on the site, but I had fallen into one of the more frowned upon types, but more on that later.

The notifications were mostly generic, random username like my post, or shared a post, and rarely, I got a comment or two. Tonight, however, I got my first direct message that wasn’t scary. A lot of them were. There were some creeps out there that wanted to do unspeakable things to me or believed that I was some sort of sex slave or something. That wasn’t the case, at least not for me.  The direct message I received was really simple, but it caught my eye because of how simple it was.

Hi. I like your content. Would you like to talk to me?

The message was from around 3 in the morning. It didn’t strike me as too strange, but I figured, what the hell, I’ll give this random person a shot. It was 5 in the afternoon, I was fresh off my hellish work week, and I had no plans. So I typed back a simple reply.

I’ll talk to anyone who will listen.

I didn’t expect a response. I had switched over to YouTube to catch up on my daily videos. There was a live stream starting soon and I didn’t want to miss it. It was the highlight of my week. As I was scrolling, my speakers made a weird noise. I looked at them and at my volume control. I wasn’t playing a video yet and none of my tabs were making noise. Wait a minute, there was a notification! My direct message tab was showing a message in the tab that I hadn’t seen before. I clicked on it and there was a new message from this random person.

I’d be happy to listen to anything you have to say!

There was a smiley face at the end of the message and for a moment, I was happy. I

didn’t talk to people much and certainly didn’t get a lot of messages with smiley faces at the end of them. I hurriedly typed back.

Thanks. I appreciate that.

I stayed on the screen for a moment and was shocked when 3 little bubbles appeared under my message. The person on the other line was writing back!

You’re welcome!

I wanted to reach out to you because I saw your content posts and it looks like we have a lot in common.

I sat back in my chair and felt the color draining from my face. I had originally started making posts as a joke but as time went on, I kept getting more and more elaborate with my stories. I didn’t really mean anything I was saying and surely didn’t expect anyone to want to talk to me about it. I decided to play it off like I didn’t know what was going on by typing.

A lot in common?

The response was immediate.

Are you not interested in nappies?

I was confused for a moment. Who calls diapers nappies?

Nappies?

Oh, you must be from the States. Nappies is British for diapers. I’m from Great Britain.

I breathed a sigh of relief. At least this person would be easy to ghost if the conversation turned sour. It was highly unlikely that they would be able to find me or know my real name.

Are you playing shy?

I didn’t respond for a moment. Frankly, I didn’t know what to say. The person on the other side did though.

I think shy is adorable!

What’s your name?

I didn’t want to answer that. Giving out personal information was never a good idea. For all I knew, the person I was talking to was a predator. I paused for a moment. The dangers of online chat rooms was far greater than I wanted to admit and the anonymity of the internet made many dangers a true reality.

My name is Patricia, but you can call me Pat or Patty if you’d like.

I still didn’t respond. Whoever Patricia was really, I doubted she wanted anything to do with me.

Well, it’s late here and I have to turn in. Can we talk tomorrow?

I finally got the courage to respond.

Sure.

Awesome! Goodnight, sweetie!

The chat ended and I sat there. I was flabbergasted at what had happened and didn’t really know how to process it. I glanced at the time and realized that my life stream was starting soon. I put the conversation out of my mind for the next few hours, closing the tab and forgetting it even. It didn’t return to my mind until much later that night, when the live stream was over and I was closing the tabs. I scrolled through the minimal notifications I had, did some reposting and for a moment, contemplated going to bed. I don’t know what compelled me to click on her profile. There wasn’t much to it. According to her profile, she was 30, straight, married, and looking for a special one. Why she was looking for anyone if she was married was beyond me. I didn’t really see anything that put me off. She had some posts that I liked and shared, the same kind of stuff that I liked. Everything in her profile read innocently enough and as a show of good faith I sent her one last message. My name is Chris.

Morning came. I crawled out of bed at the crack of 11. Living by myself, I didn’t have a set schedule. I poured myself a bowl of sugar enriched cereal and sat at my computer. I didn’t work again until Monday and I had no plans except to play video games all day. I logged in to my account to see several new messages from Patricia.

Good morning Chris!

I see you looked over my profile!

Aren’t you the curious one?!

I had barely rubbed the sleep from my eyes and took the first crunchy bite of my Lucky Charms when I typed back.

I was up late.

Her response was immediate, like she was waiting for me.

Not too late, I hope.

I wasn’t thinking clearly yet. Too busy crunching on my giant bowl of sugar.

Midnight I think. I just got up.

Aww! Someone is a sleepyhead. Do you have any plans for today? I have to do the shopping in a bit.

No. Just gonna sit around my place and play some games.

Board games?

Video games.

Tsk. Tsk.

What’s wrong with video games?

Nothing is wrong with them as long as they are enjoyed in moderation.

I work all week and my weekend is my unwind time.

Is that the only thing you do to unwind?

Pretty much. Don’t go out much.

No girl/ boyfriend?

No.

Family?

I don’t have a family.

Aww. I’m sorry sweetie. I didn’t mean to imply anything.

It’s cool. Parents died when I was young. Grew up in foster care. It’s whatever.

I’m sorry to hear that. And it’s not whatever. Family is very important. It’s the basis in which we learn how to love.

Whatever

Chris, I don’t mean to offend, I promise. I just have strong opinions when it comes to family. I hope one day to have one of my own.

Aren’t you married?

Married, yes, but with a family? Sadly, no.

I’m sorry.

It’s fine, Chris. It really is. We are hoping to start a family very soon.

Good luck with that.

Thank you. Did you have breakfast?

I’m eating cereal.

Good. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

So I’ve been told.

Do you plan on taking a shower today? Cleanliness is right next to Godliness.

You know you sound like my one foster mom. She harped on me too.

I’m not harping. I’m suggesting. The most important thing you can do is take care of yourself.

I’m sure I can manage.

Okay, sweetie. Enjoy your breakfast and I’ll talk to you later?

I guess.

My cereal was gone and I noisily slurped the milk. I was annoyed at how preachy she sounded. I knew how to take care of myself. I’d been taking care of myself ever since I got emancipated from my last foster family. I looked around my small apartment. Yeah, it was a mess. So what? I didn’t have anyone to impress so I cleaned when I felt like it. I had laundry to do, my bed was a mess, and I set my empty bowl on top of the pile of dishes that hadn’t been done all week. There were flies hovering around my overfilled garbage can.

“I’ll clean tomorrow.” I said out loud and sat on my couch. I grabbed the remote and controller for my game system, turning it and the tv on. I glanced over at my computer and like I normally did, I turned it so that I could see the screen. I put on a playthrough video playlist of the game I was trying to beat and settled in. I didn’t close the YourLife app, and I was too lazy to do so now.

A few hours into my veg session, the app dinged again. I ignored it and continued playing until it dinged for a third time. I sighed, pausing my game and reaching for the mouse. I clicked on the app and read the messages.

Good afternoon, Chris!

How is your day going so far?

Did you have lunch?

My stomach growled at the thought of lunch. It was 4 in the afternoon and I was getting hungry. I also needed to relieve myself.

Good. Be right back.

I ran to the bathroom and when I came back, there were more messages. This lady had to be lonely or something.

I did my shopping, found a few things to save for later.

She also sent me a meme of Baby Yoda with a sad face and the caption When I ain’t getting no kissies or cuddles. I put a thumb’s up icon on the meme real quick before heading to my destroyed kitchen. She sent me another message. I could tell by the ding of the speakers. I dumped some pizza rolls on a paper plate before sticking it in the microwave. I set it for 3 minutes and went to check the message.

What’s for lunch?

Pizza rolls.

Ah, someone likes finger foods.

Who doesn’t?

My microwave.

Honey! Toaster oven! Keeps them from getting soggy.

I don’t have one.

You need to live more.

Living is overrated.

Christopher! I don’t like that kind of talk!

Whatever.

I went to my microwave and pulled out my food. She was right, they were soggy. I ignored her followup message. She said something about having so much to live for. I looked around my filthy apartment again and scoffed. All I had to live for was conquering this boss that I’ve been stuck on. I didn’t look at the app for a while until I had finally beaten the boss and my plate was empty.

Christopher, are you pouting?

Chris?

Okay. I guess I struck a nerve and you’re giving me the silent treatment. I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow?

Exacerbated, I hurriedly typed back.

I’m not pouting.

It’s okay to get upset, but if I’ve offended you, you need to let me know.

I’m not offended. I was eating. And playing my game.

Did you win?

Yeah, finally.

Way to go! I’m so proud of you!

Proud of me? Why? You don’t know me.

No. I don’t. But I’d like to. And I don’t need to know you to be proud of your accomplishments. We all need to feel like someone cares.

Her words rang true, but I felt that it was too good to be true. There was something there that she wasn’t telling me.

But why? Why care about me?

Why shouldn’t I care? Don’t you want someone to care for you?

It was all I ever wanted. I couldn’t admit it to her or to anyone else, but all I ever wanted was for someone to truly care about me.

Chris? Are you still there?

Yeah. I’m here.

Are you going to be getting ready for bed soon?

No. Why?

Because I have the house to myself tonight. My husband is overseas on a business trip.

What’s he do?

He’s an account manager for a big business firm. It’s nothing extravagant but it pays well.

That’s good.

What do you do?

I work a grocery warehouse. It’s a shit job with shit wages but it pays the bills.

Well, I can’t say that I like the language but a job is a job, right?

I guess. I mean, it serves its purpose.

I went back to my game. I wasn’t going to get bogged down by having someone lecture me.

So are you going to keep me up all night talking?

I paused my game and scowled at the computer screen. What the hell did she mean by that?

Did you want me to?

It’ll be good practice.

Practice? Practice for what?

For late night calls with my husband or for when I have a little one.

Ahh.

So can I ask you something?

I guess.

What’s with the content on your feed? What do you mean?

Are you into that kind of stuff?

It's just stuff I post.

And the stories? You write those yourself, right?

Yeah. I mean, sometimes.

You have a very vivid imagination.

Thanks. I guess.

Ok. I know we are just getting to know each other, but let’s try something. When I give you a compliment, don’t brush it off. If I say you have a vivid imagination, you should say thank you. Or thanks, Pat.

Uh, ok.

Humor me. Just try it. Please?

I groaned. I hate being manipulated. One, because it makes me feel stupid, and two, I was a sucker for being told what to do in a passive aggressive manner. My boss didn’t have a problem taking advantage of me with phrases like: Wouldn’t it be nice if such and such got finished today?

I typed slowly, because I didn’t want to give in to some stranger on the internet.

Thanks, Patricia.

Patty. Call me Patty. Okay. Patty.

Now put it together.

I groaned again, but typed it out.

Thanks, Patty.

You are very welcome, Chris. Was that so hard?

No.

Is it something I can convince you to do again?

Maybe. I mean, if you really want me to.

I don’t want you to. I want you to want to.

Why?

Because you should want to be polite to those that are kind to you. It’s good manners and it shows that you appreciate those around you.

And if I don’t?

You don’t appreciate those around you?

Not really. I work with a bunch of dickheads. My life is a hot pile of garbage and I don’t really care. No one cares about me so why should I care about them?

That sounds terrible. Have you considered the way you treat others in an invitation to be treated the way you are being treated?

Yeah, but why should I make the first move?

Because people won’t know that you want their behavior to change if you aren’t willing to change yours.

She wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t care enough to let her lecture me about how to behave to others. Who was she to think that some messages from the other side of the big pond would mean anything to me?

Whatever.

*sigh* I see that you are going to be difficult.

I am who I am. If you were me, you’d be the same way too.

I’m not sure about that. If I can make an assumption or two, I think you are angry and are lashing out because you feel unfulfilled. You lost your parents at a young age and you have been unable to find suitable replacements. Now that you are an adult, you don’t know what to do with your anger because you don’t have anyone to make it better.

I suppose you think you are clever then? Dissecting my life like it has no value.

Your life absolutely has value. That’s my point. You may be a product of your past, but it doesn’t have to define you.

Unfortunately, it’s all I have.

And that hurts my heart. Everyone needs someone they can go to. Everyone needs a parent or parental figure.

What? Like a mom and dad? No thanks. I don’t need anyone else to abandon me.

I won’t abandon you, Christopher.

You don’t know me. And if you really did, you would leave me too.

I was angry because I was hurting. And as she said, I was lashing out. It was a sensitive subject for me and I didn’t know how I let the conversation get so derailed.

Is that how you really feel? I get it. It’s easier to push people away than to let them in, even if it’s just a little. And you know what, it’s okay. If you need to direct your anger at someone, you can point it at me.

Why are you so nice to me?

Because I know what it’s like to be angry and I know what it’s like to not have an outlet. And I don’t mind being an unbiased ear, it’s part of my maternal nature.

Maternal nature? Are you trying to be my mom?

Do you want me to?

I stopped typing. We had been chatting for so long that my controller had shut off and my console was in screensaver mode. I had to reread her messages for the subtext and throughout our whole conversation, she was trying to be a maternal figure for me. Her messages came off as caring and gentle and I noted how she had pushed me towards changing my language.

Christopher?

What?

Are you okay?

Yeah. Just thinking.

About what?

What you said.

About being a mom? It’s my passion. I can’t wait to have a little one of my own.

A real baby?

All babies are real babies.

I meant one that you carry.

You mean one that grows inside me?

Yes.

There was a long pause before she responded. I felt like I had finally hit a nerve and thrown her off her game.

I can’t have a baby of my own. I’m physically unable to conceive. So, I’m looking for alternatives.

What about adoption?

Also not an option. You can’t adopt if you have a criminal record of sex offence. And before you get assumptions, it was public nudity that happened to occur too close to a coach with young kids. I’m in the process of appealing the ruling, but my solicitor isn’t making headway. My husband and I have pretty much given up on the idea and are looking outside the normal means.

So you don’t want a real baby? But someone dressed as a baby?

Babies are babies. You don’t need to be a certain age to be a baby or not to be a baby.

But isn’t that weird?

I don’t think so. I like to think that somewhere out there is someone who wants to have a mom and dad. Maybe someone who never really had a mom and dad.

Like me? You mean me?

I don’t mean anyone in particular.

But you just offered to be my mom.

I offered to listen like a maternal figure should.

No. You asked me specifically if I wanted you to be my mom. I can show you the message.

And if I did, you didn’t answer.

What was I supposed to say? No, and come off as mean and have you dissect my words as a deflection of what I really want? Or say yes and have no idea what I’m agreeing to?

Are you afraid of the answer?

I’m not afraid of anything.

Okay. If you say so. If you are not afraid of the answer, then answer the question.

I couldn’t type anymore. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to just say no so that this whole thing would go away but I know that it wouldn’t. She would find a way to turn it into some analysis of my past. I was honest when I said that I didn’t know what saying yes would mean. The things I’ve seen on the internet were far too much for me to handle. And I was too introverted to step outside the societal norms outside of the anonymity of the internet.

I can’t answer that right now.

Because you don’t know, or don’t know what it means?

I don’t know.

Okay. That’s fair. I just want to let you know that there aren't any expectations from your answer. I want you to always be honest with yourself so you can be honest with me.

I get that.

And I know what you are thinking. I’m guessing that you have perused the internet enough to know what a Mommy is. That’s not what I’m offering. I’m offering to be a friend, who happens to be female, and happens to have maternal instincts. The reality is that I live thousands of miles away from you so it’s not like I can barge into your house and make you my baby.

You would do that?

Do you want to be a baby?

There was another question that I couldn’t answer. There were a lot of questions lately that I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t want to. I hated how I kept getting stuck on the defensive. It led to me being easily manipulated. My fingers then danced across the keys while my brain was muddled with thoughts and emotions.

What does that mean?

Well, being a baby has many levels. Mostly, it’s called being little as you aren’t a baby in a literal sense. And being little could be anything from a childish mindset to wearing child type clothes to even dressing and acting like an infant. It is a loaded question and one that has no solid answer. You get what you put in and you decide your level of involvement. If you want to go full tilt, that’s possible, but if you just want to dabble, that can be arranged too.

How would that work?

It depends on your involvement, but as a general outline, I would give you rules to follow and a structure to have. It would have to go based on an honor system and you would have to be honest with me on whether or not you followed the rules.

Okay.

In exchange, I will give you the love and support that you are looking for in a motherly, maternal sense. I will always give you the love and support you deserve as an adult, just to be clear. But listen, don’t make any decisions now. This isn’t something to jump into without thought. Sleep on it and we can talk about it later.

Okay.

And don’t feel pressured to answer one way or the other. My feelings for you will not change if this isn’t something you want. I will stay your friend.

We are friends?

I believe so. I know it’s only been a little while and we only know a little bit about each other, but I do care for you and how you are feeling.

Thanks, Patty.

You are very welcome sweetheart. Get some sleep and we will talk tomorrow. Night.

Night night.

I closed the chat window down and rubbed my eyes. I was tired. It was late, and my mind was reeling. I could barely believe the conversation I just had. I couldn’t lie to myself and say that it hadn’t been a fantasy of mine to have someone reach out to me and offer to baby me. It was, after all, the whole schtick of my YourLife profile. I initially thought the whole idea was incredulous. The logistics alone made my head spin and what was worse, even if I were to say yes, there would be no way to truly make it happen. She lived thousands of miles away and if I didn’t like the rules, I could just lie about breaking them. She would never know.

“But is that being honest?” I said aloud. “Wouldn’t the whole idea be being as honest as possible so that I get what I want? Is this what I want? To be a little? What the hell is a little, anyway?”

My eyes burned from staring at the computer screen for so long so I shut it off and headed to bed. I had no idea what I was going to say or do about our conversation and I was frankly too tired to care.

I wish I could say that I got a good night’s rest. Hell, I wish I could say that I got some rest. I woke up Sunday morning hating everything. I was stiff and sore from sitting on my couch for so many hours, I was hungry but had nothing but redheated takeout for breakfast, and my place was still trashed and starting to smell. Like it or not, I had to adult today. I had to clean, I

had to shop for groceries, and I had to do laundry.

I started my morning by kicking all the clothes on my various floors into a large pile by my washer and dryer. I crammed the washer full, dumped some detergent on it, and started the cycle. I never sorted my laundry. I didn’t know how, didn’t want to learn, and frankly, just didn’t care.

I reheated the soggy mess that was three day old nachos in the microwave and after chugging the remains of a flat bottle of soda, I choked the mess down as fast as I could so that I didn’t taste it. I scraped the dishes off that had been sitting there over a week and let them soak in the sink. It was no use trying to wash them now, I’d be at it for hours.

I flopped onto my couch and looked around my place in despair. I didn’t want to clean, hated that I had this responsibility, and just wanted to cry. I never considered myself to be an emotional guy. I wasn’t some kind of pansy or anything, but the mess had just gone untouched for too long that it was a daunting task to try to right the ship. I felt hopeless and stuck in this vicious cycle of living in squalor because cleaning makes me depressed and when I’m depressed, I don’t want to clean and that adds to the squalor.

Unable to face it, I turned on my computer and looked to see if there was any new content that could take my mind off my existence. There was a few memes that I liked and shared. There was one that resonated with me. It was a cartoon of a heavier set woman with wide hips and an ample chest hugging a man who was straddling her lap in a tee shirt and a diaper. The man’s face was obscured as it was resting on her shoulder and his arms were wrapped around her next. The image just looked so inviting. I wanted to be held like that. I wanted to be cared for. I wanted to be loved. I wanted…

“Are you insane? Can you honestly be sitting here thinking about what it would be like to be in a diaper?! You’re fucked up!”

The heartwrenching reality was that although I could take care of myself, I did a piss poor job of it. I was lonely, I was isolated, and I was depressed. There wasn’t anything in my life worth living for. My empty existence was compounded by my indecision and unwillingness to better myself. I needed help. Something, anything, that could save me from this pointlessness.

I opened the chat window and stared at her messages. I didn’t know what to say or how to describe what I felt. I didn’t know anything, really, beyond the only feeling of happiness I had was when she was talking to me. I tried to be a hard person. I tried to click away from the chat window and not read her words over and over again. I really tried.

I just wanted someone to care. Was that too much to ask? Was it too much for me to feel like every other person who has parents feels? Was it too much to want to be loved, unconditionally, as a child would be by its mother? Was it all worth the risk?

“The risk is minimal. If it gets too bad or too weird, just block her and it’s over, no harm, no foul. She can’t find me. She doesn’t even know where I live.”

Even out loud, my words did little to assuage my fears. I imagined what she must think of me. Some loney, sad, pathetic man child who reaches into the farthest depths of depravity to feel something. It’s what I thought of myself at least.

The bubbles appeared in the chat window. She was typing something.

Good morning, Christopher! How did you sleep?

I typed back as fast as I could. There was a swelling of happiness in my chest as

my mind fixated on that cartoon drawing I saw earlier. My soul ached for that.

I slept like crap. Couldn’t get my mind to settle.

Aww. I’m sorry. Was it something I said?

Yes.

I see. What did you have for breakfast?

Nachos.

That’s not a balanced meal, Christopher.

Can you stop calling me that? I go by Chris.

Ask me nicely.

I scoffed at the command, knowing full well that she was trying to twist my thoughts but that picture loomed and I relented.

Please, Patty, can you call me Chris?

Yes, under one condition. When I use your full name, it’s because I’m trying to get your attention or you’ve done something that I don’t agree with. Is it okay to use it under those circumstances?

Yeah.

Yeah?

I mean, yes, Patty.

Very good. Thank you for being so polite.

You’re welcome.

So, why couldn’t you sleep last night?

I slept, just not well. I kept thinking about the things we talked about last night and it kept me up.

Good things or bad things?

That’s just it. I don’t know. I want to say it’s one way, but I feel like it’s another and I don’t know what to do.

Be honest with yourself.

I sat there with my fingers on the keys but unable to type the words.

Are you okay? Just say what is truly in your heart. I won’t judge you. I won’t hate you. I won’t abandon you.

I typed it slow, trying my hardest to convince myself to delete it. My finger hung

over the enter key, my hand shaking, and my body tense. If my finger fell, there would be no going back. My life would be irrevocably altered.

They say that the truth will set you free and I firmly believe that now, but at that

moment, I was more afraid of the truth than I had ever been afraid of anything before. My finger fell and my world was shattered.

I want to be a baby.

There was a pause which felt like an eternity and I wanted to take it all back. All

fourteen letters should have been destroyed, never to see the light of day again. What felt like forever was barely a minute before the bubbles returned and her response popped up on my screen.

Are you sure?

I gingerly typed three letters.

Yes.

That’s wonderful news, Chris, and it warms my heart that you were able to trust me enough to be honest about it. Do you know what kind of baby you would like to be?

No. I don’t know what kinds there are.

Okay. I can help you sort through them, but it would be quicker if you had an example. A story. A picture. Anything that can narrow it down a little for me.

I sent her the picture of the cartoon I had found. I didn’t know what it meant or

how she would take it, but whatever feeling that picture brought out of me was what I wanted.

I think I see what you are getting at. Would something like this be along the same lines?

She sent me a different cartoon of a man sitting on the floor in a diaper and a tee

shirt next to a couch with a woman leaning over it asking if the man needed to be changed. I had seen it before and had shared it with the hashtag #want, but didn’t really know what it meant.

Kinda.

Okay. I think I have enough of an idea to ask a few questions. Are you ready to be brave for me?

Yes.

Do you want me to take care of you? Like I said before, with rules and structure in return for my motherly love and adoration?

Yes.

Would you be willing to do what I ask of you, even if it’s strange or something unfamiliar?

Like?

Like wearing the clothes I tell you to wear or eating something specific, or buying something you wouldn’t normally buy?

I didn’t see any harm in those options, at least on a surface level.

Yes.

That’s great, Chris, I’m so proud of you! I just have a few more questions. Will you always be honest with me, to the best of your ability?

Yes.

That’s fantastic! Two more and we are done. You are doing so well!

My heart was thudding in my chest. The encouragement was something I hadn’t

heard or felt in a long time.

Would you like me to be your Mommy and would you call me such?

If her being my mommy was anything like that picture, then hell yeah.

Yes.

That’s terrific, Chris! Completely fantastic! Okay, last one and it’s a big one. I want you to think long and hard about this. Are you ready?

Yes.

There was a pause while the bubbles floated. I couldn’t tell if she was writing a lot

or writing slowly. Either way, I was shaking in anticipation and fear.

Would you want to try wearing diapers, like in the picture you sent me, and be a full baby? What this means is that I will buy diapers for you and have them delivered to your place. I will then put the rule in place that you have to wear your diapers from the time you get home from work until the time you go to work the next morning. I will want you to wet them and, if you are comfortable, mess them. If you have to go out in public for any reason, you are to wear them under your clothes and only under certain circumstances will I allow you to not wear them, but that would be a case by case basis.

Would you like to be my brave little boy and at least give them a try?

My mind reeled again. I didn’t know what to say about something that I had no real experience in. I didn’t remember being young enough to be in diapers and I certainly hadn’t thought about it as an adult.

“Why do I do that? Why do I lie to myself? Sure, I thought about it. Thought about it every day since I made this profile. I’m always wondering what if.” What if I try them and don’t like them?

Then we can talk about why you don’t like them. I want you to give me an honest try in them though. One full week. If after a week, you don’t like them, we can talk about options.

Seven days?

Correct. You wear them for seven days and after that, we can talk. Deal?

Yes, Patty.

Mommy. Try again.

Yes, Mommy.

Good boy. So, send me your address and your waist size. I want you, today, to get in the shower and get cleaned up, go out and have yourself a good time.

I sent her my address and she sent me a link to her social media profile.

This is my social media. I want you to add me so that we can talk over the phone and exchange pictures. When you add me, I will send you a picture of myself so that you know I’m a real person. Will you send me a picture of you, my sweet?

Yes, Mommy.

:) I’m so happy that you are willing to try this. I can’t wait to see your face!

I opened the social media link she sent and looked over her profile page. She was strikingly beautiful, thicker, like the cartoon, with a chest to match. Her face had a loving smile on it and her auburn hair hung down across her shoulders. Her eyes were blue and radiated with life. She had a lot of pictures of her in various parts of the world, including New York City. I assumed that the guy she was with in some of the shots was her husband. He was taller than her, with broad shoulders and large biceps. He looked like the kind of guy that could bench press a guy like me with one hand. Not bodybuilder size, but leaner.

I added her as a friend and sent one of my best pictures off my hard drive. It was me at one of the mandatory work parties with a few of the other guys. They were all laughing and having a good time. I had the serious expression on because I hated having my picture taken.

Are you the grumpy guy in the corner?

Yes.

Let me guess, you don’t like your picture being taken? No.

Will you take one of only you for me?

Do I have to?

No. But I would very much like to see my baby with a little smile on his face because his mommy loves him.

I hadn’t wrapped my head around what I had agreed to and being called a baby was still weird. But, she had been really kind to me, so she deserved some kindness in return. I grabbed my phone and tried to find an angle that didn’t make me look terrible. I was so focused on making a good shot of me, I didn’t realize that I had framed the heaping mess of laundry in the background. I sent it to her without reviewing it, figuring that she got the best view of me she could and set my phone down. My computer dinged almost immediately.

My my my. I see I have my hands full, don’t I?

What do you mean? Am I ugly or something?

No, no. It’s not that. You are actually quite handsome. The pile of laundry in the background, however, isn’t. I’m going to video call you in a minute. I want you to answer the call, okay?

I guess I can.

I hope that your attitude changes when I can hear your voice, Christopher.

My phone rang and I gulped. I had never thought that I would actually have to talk to her. Even worse, she was upset with me over something. I gingerly picked up the phone and hit the answer button, expecting to be yelled at.

“Hello?”

Her voice was soft and soothing, coming through the speaker like a message from heaven. The video was still connecting, so I couldn’t see her face.

“Good morning, Chris. How’s my baby doing?”

The amount of love and care in those few words made me melt. And when her face finally came into view, I just about lost it. She looked absolutely divine, everything her profile pictures looked like and more.

“I..uh..hi.”

She gave me a look of bemusement. If she couldn’t tell that I was shy over the internet, she would know now.

“Are you blushing? I believe you are! That’s so sweet!” She didn’t have a pronounced British accent, at least not the ones I would typically associate with Britain.

“I-I’m not b-blushing.”

“Sweetie, it’s perfectly fine. Stop for a second and look at me.” She said, holding her phone steady. I complied and just looked at her. She was far more beautiful than I thought and way out of my league. “That’s it. Look into my eyes and concentrate on my voice. Breathe in.

Breathe out. Slowly. Calmly. Good. That's good.”

Her eyes were like deep pools of calm ocean blue. She stared intently at me and I at her. It was soothing. I inhaled when she told me to and exhaled when she told me to. I felt my nervousness ease. It was still there, but it wasn’t causing me to hyperventilate anymore. “That’s perfect. Now that we are calm, we can start again, okay?” I nodded.

“Good. Eyes on me and let’s begin. Good morning, Chris.”

“Good morning, Patty.”

There was a little twitch in her face and it took me a second to realize what I’d done. I closed my eyes, breathed in and out again, slow, like she wanted, and tried again.

“Good morning, Mommy.”

“Hello, my sweet baby boy. How are you today?”

“I’m good.”

“That’s terrific and it makes Mommy happy. Show me your pretty eyes so you can see how happy I am.”

I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was still radiant and I was still nervous.

“There’s my beautiful boy! How about you be a good boy for Mommy and take me on a tour of your place.”

I shook my head.

“No? How come?”

“It’s a mess.”

“I can tell that, but show me anyway.”

“Why?”

“So I can see how much space you have for playtime.”

“Playtime?”

“You didn't think life as a baby was just video games, did you?”

“Well, no. But what do you mean by playtime?”

“I mean time spent playing with toys. All kinds of toys. From cars to trains to dinosaurs to other stuff like coloring and watching cartoons. Does that sound like fun?”

“It kinda does.”

“So let's look for a spot big enough for you to stretch out and have some tummy time with your toys.”

I turned the camera around so that she could see what I saw. I watched her reaction go from disgusted to mortified.

“Oh dear. I didn't think it was that bad. When was the last time you cleaned?”

“It's been a while. No one comes over so I have no need to clean, really.”

“And is your room this messy? Don’t answer, just show me.”

I showed her my bedroom, probably the cleanest of the rooms since I kicked all the laundry out.

“I see, turn the camera around, please.” She said with disappointment in her voice. “Christopher, I’m very saddened by what I see. It’s painfully clear that you are in desperate need of a Mommy who will take care of you.” Her words hurt but then her tone shifted. “And I am just the Mommy for you! I think it's best if I just come and stay with you for a while to help you get used to the new rules and changes. What do you think?”

I started stuttering again. “I-I d-don’t th-think-”

“I do think it's a good idea, in fact, I can be there in a few days.”

“W-what about your h-husband?”

“If he saw what I saw, he would understand. He’s due to fly over there tonight, anyway, so I will just fly with him, pick up a few things, and we can spend the week together.”

“B-but. I h-have t-to w-w-work.”

“And you will. Look at me, Christopher. Look into Mommy’s eyes.”

I looked into her eyes, shaking from nervousness, anxiety, and embarrassment.

“Mommy just wants to take care of you. Is that okay? Do you want me to take care of you? To hold you? And love you? And care for you?”

There was a stinging in my eyes, the forming of tears. I nodded to the face on the screen. In the small window that showed my face, I could see my lower lip pucker slightly. I needed someone to take care of me.

“Do you want Mommy to come and put you in diapers? Hold you in my arms and rock you to sleep? To change you, and bathe you? To feed you and cuddle you?”

The freshly formed tears rolled down my cheek. I wanted so badly for someone to treat me like I was true family, not just be a placeholder in a long line of placeholders. I didn’t know if this was the only way to get that feeling, but she was offering something I’d never had.

“Do you want Mommy to read you bedtime stories? To be the first person you see when you wake up and the last person you see when you go to sleep? Do you want to know what it feels like to truly be loved by your parents?” I nodded again, harder this time.

“I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. Say it for Mommy, and I will make all that pain in your eyes go away. Tell me you need me. Tell me you want me, and I will come and save you.”

I was crying like the baby I wanted to be, wanting nothing more than for her promises to be real.

“I...I need you, Mommy.”

She smiled, genuine and wide. “I’m on my way, baby. I’ll see you in a few days. How about you go lie down for a nap and call me when you wake up, okay?”

I sniffled, feeling small and vulnerable. “Okay, Mommy.”

“That’s a good boy. Mommy loves you.” She said as I crawled into bed.

“I wuv you too.” I said, not even thinking about my words anymore. She kissed the screen and waved goodbye before hanging up. I was left alone in my helplessness and despair. The tears that had started to fall now flowed like rain.

Chapter 2: Meeting Daddy

I woke up a few hours later. It was midday and I felt emotionally drained. The conversations with Patty were taking their toll on me. I didn’t really have the energy to get up and do anything but after showing her my place, I felt it best to at least attempt to clean it some. I moved the laundry over and started another load. Three full trash bags later and I had all the garbage in the place at least bagged up. The dumpsters were out back and I had to find my shoes before I was willing to venture out the doors. I drained the cold water from the sink, realizing that I had left them to soak but couldn’t remember what day. I needed to vacuum and the place could really use a good dusting but if I could manage trash, laundry, dishes, I was comfortable enough to call it a win.

I found my shoes under more laundry. They smelled like gym feet but I didn’t care. I slipped them on because tying shoes is for losers and grabbed the bags of trash. I carried them down the pathway that led in front of the apartment complex and across the parking lot to where the dumpsters were. The usual riff raff of tenants were out on their decks or balconies but they pretty much ignored me. I was used to it by now and it was never going to change.

When I got back to my apartment, there was a large box sitting in front of my door. I hadn’t ordered anything and wasn’t expecting a care package from my non-existent family and friends. I looked at the label. It was addressed to me alright. At the bottom, where it had a spot for customer directions, it simply said: In preparation of happiness. I found that odd and looked at the shipper’s label. It sounded inconspicuous enough. NorthShore Care Supply. I took the box into my place and shut the door.

I set the box down on the floor in my living room and cocked an eyebrow at it. I was suspicious and rightfully so. Nobody had ever sent me some-

“Shit! I bet I know exactly what this is!” I said, going into the kitchen to get a butter knife. “There is no way that shipping is that fast!” I said as I cut the packaging tape. I pulled open the box and sat back, stunned. I was trying to process what I was seeing when my phone made a familiar sound. I fumbled into my pocket for it and saw that Patty was video calling me. I was kind of numb when I hit the answer button and her face popped onto my screen.

“Did you have a nice nap, baby?” She asked, her voice like a soft purr. “Y-yeah. I meant to call but I was trying to clean.”

“Clean? Whatever would you do that for?” “Cause you shouldn’t have seen that.”

“Oh, sweetie! That’s kind of you, but you should let Mommy take care of the housework.

It’s what us Mommy’s do.”

“I-uh. There is this box that was at my door.”

“A box, you say?” She said, playing innocent. “What’s in it I wonder?”

Inside the box was a bag of adult, medium waist size, Crinklz brand diapers. The cover had little dogs on it in various positions and in astronaut gear. There were two packages of them, with 15 diapers each.

“Well? What’s in the box?” She asked playfully. I turned the camera to show her. “Well, that’s no fun, silly, you’re supposed to answer Mommy when she asks you a question. So, my little prince, what’s in the box?”

I blushed and said in a soft voice, “Diapers, Mommy.” I didn’t want my voice to carry and anyone in the apartment above me to hear.

“Indeed. Plenty of diapers to get you through a week don’t you think? That’s about 4 per day, which should be plenty.”

“I don’t know about all of this.”

“And that’s okay, because I do. How about you open one up and get a feel for it?” “Now? I was going to get in the shower.”

“Perfect timing then, go take a shower and call me back. I want to see my baby boy all

clean!”

“I-uh. Okay.”

“The correct answer is Yes, Mommy. I see that we are going to have to work on that.

There will be plenty of time when I’m there. Now, off to the shower with you! And don’t take too long!”

“Yes, Mommy.” I said with an eye roll. I wasn’t looking directly at her so I don’t think she caught it. I hung up with her and gathered my clothes for my shower. I normally let myself soak, but because I was a moron, I left my phone on the edge of the sink and within fifteen minutes, she was calling me back.

“I said not to take too long! I’m only half serious, sweetie. You will have plenty of time to soak in the bath tomorrow. Now, go grab a diaper and let’s put it on!”

“B-but-”

“No buts, unless it’s yours, going in a diaper. This is the deal, Christopher. You promised me that you would be a brave boy and wear diapers for me. Didn’t you? Didn’t you promise me that?”

“I did but I was going to go shopping!” I whined. I was nervous and scared. I didn’t want to wear it and I certainly didn’t want to go out shopping in it.

Patty sighed. “Okay. Just this once, I will let it slide, but just know that when I get there tomorrow, no amount of whining will get you out of it. I will be putting you in a diaper and I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee first to do it, am I understood?” I felt like I was a foot tall, being berated in such a way.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” She said sternly. “Yes, Mommy.”

“I’m not trying to sound mean, Chris. I’m really not, but I need you to understand that this is going to happen, but more importantly, this is what you wanted to happen. I can understand your apprehensions but at the end of the day, you are just a little boy inside who desperately wants his Mommy to take care of him. And I want to do that for you. I want to take care of you. But you have to let me. You have to let me take charge and do what’s best for you. Can you do that? Can you let me in?”

“I-I-I want to.” I said. “But this is a big step and I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Then take it slow. You don’t have to go out today. Order in and stay at home, cozy and padded. No one will know. No one will judge you, and best of all, it will put you one step closer to me.”

“I mean, I could order like a pizza or something…” I trailed off. I was holding the diaper in my hand and it’s soft plastic exterior was comforting.

“Pizza is very yummy and a Mommy approved food. What’s it going to hurt? I’ll make you a deal. If you put that on for me, I’ll let you play video games all night long. You won’t have to stop for a potty break or anything!”

An all night gaming session was a very tempting idea. Add pizza to the mix and there wasn’t much else I needed.

“With soda pop?”

“I don’t really care for soft drinks, but as a reward, yes, you can have a soda pop, but only if you put that on right now.”

“I...I don’t know how…” I said, slowly. I was still in a towel, bargaining with a person thousands of miles away about my willingness to wear a diaper.

“I’ll walk you through it. Take it to your bed.” She said. I did so and propped the phone so that she could see what was going on.

“Okay, good. Now what you want to do is unfold it and fluff it. They are packaged fairly tightly and need to be loosened up before being worn. Hold it by the sides and wiggle your hands back and forth.” I did what she said. “Yes, like that, now work your way to the other end. Good. So now you want to set it down so that the blue tapes will be towards your back. Then you just need to drop the towel and lie down on it.”

I was nervous about exposing myself to her. I wasn’t happy or proud with my endowment and had never shown it to a woman before. I turned my back slightly to her and dropped my towel, showing her my butt. She cooed at me as I got on the bed and straddled the diaper.

“Good boy! Now, you want to pull it up between your legs. Give it a little wiggle so that it sits right. It’s best to point yourself down. It’s more comfortable that way. Now, starting with the bottom tapes, pull one side at a time and press it firmly in place. Then the top set. Not too tight. You just want it to feel snug on your hips. Good. That’s a good boy. Now, stand up and let Mommy see how you did!”

My mind was racing as I sat up. It was an entirely new feeling for me. It felt strange, confining, and the noise it made was so loud I thought the neighbors could hear it. I swung my legs off the bed and stood up, greeted by more noise and this foriegn feeling between my legs. My parts were tucked in rather nicely and it felt like they were caressed in a soft cup, but the immensity of the material between my legs made it all feel out of place. The diaper hung comfortably off my hips and it felt like I had a cushion on my butt. It all felt too thick and unwieldy to be natural.

“Don’t you just look the cutest! Come closer and let Mommy see!”

For a moment, I had no idea who was talking. I was too engrossed in what I was wearing for my brain to register that I was still on a video call. I walked closer to the phone to pick it up and noticed that the view she was getting was of my crotch moving closer to the screen. I blushed again as I picked up the phone and she could finally see my face.

“I thought those would be perfect for you, and they look like a good fit. How do they

feel?”

“Strange. Like I have to adjust how I walk and everything.” “That’s normal but you will get used to them.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Trust me. In a few hours, you will forget that they are even there. Do you have any

sweatpants or something loose fitting that you can toss on?”

“I think so.”

“Pull something on over them and it’ll help ease your mind. Far too often, it seems, when someone isn’t comfortable wearing them, and they have to, they get obsessed with them because it’s something they can see all the time. If the diaper is covered, it’s easily forgotten and the little one is more prone to accepting them.”

“What does that mean? Accepting them?”

“It means that you will grow to like them or at least not mind them and will wear them more often or with less fuss.”

“And that’s what you want of me?” I asked, my head spinning at the thought of being in this contraption for long periods of time. I walked over to my dresser and dug for my sweatpants.

“To not fight me or be super fussy when it comes to your diapers? Yes, absolutely. Being a Mommy for me is about love and care and good times. I don’t want to have to discipline you. I will, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t enjoy it. I’m the caregiver, and my motive is in the name.

Care. Giving. I want to give you care. Happiness through love and compassion.”

I pulled my sweatpants on and they slipped over the plastic shell of the diaper with ease.

I tightened it a little bit so they would slip off as I walked.

“Don’t you think it would be for the best if we didn't have to fight each other?” She asked.

I carried the phone out to the living room and noticed the smile on her face at the sound of the diaper crinkling. I wasn’t ready or willing to admit that it was in fact my diaper and not a diaper. I looked briefly at the box of diapers on the floor and decided to push them off to the side. I didn’t want to think about it as thinking about it made me feel like I was doing something wrong.

“Well, yeah. But I don’t think it’s possible to not disagree on some things.” “Oh, indeed. But that’s what Daddy is for.”

My face paled and I stopped in my tracks. Daddy? Was there going to be someone else who knew I was in a diaper?

“Daddy? What Daddy?” “My husband. Dominic.” “He knows about me?”

“Of course. I told him that I was planning on flying with him to meet you. He’s excited to hear more about you. I’m sure he will be happy to hear that you have put on your first diaper!”

“Wait. Wait. Wait! You didn’t tell me about your husband being involved! I thought this was just a you and me thing.”

“I hide nothing from my husband. He has been kept up to speed throughout. I thought that was obvious. And for that, my apologies.”

“So what is all of this really about? I want the truth, the whole truth.”

“The truth? My husband and I are looking for a full time baby. We’ve talked about this. I am unable to have children of my own and can’t adopt within the country, so I’m looking for someone outside of my country to be my baby. And right now, that person is you.”

I flopped into my normal spot on the couch with a sigh and loud crinkle. I looked at the box of diapers that she had delivered to my doorstep and chastised myself for missing the obvious. She wasn’t just looking for someone to play baby until she could get one of her own, she wanted to groom someone into being her baby.

“Chris? Are you still there?”

“Yeah. I’m here. It’s just...a lot to take in.”

“I’m sorry. I thought I was being straightforward with you, especially with my intentions.” “What are your intentions?”

“Well, it’s quite a complicated process but a fairly simple explanation. I want to make you my baby and when you are ready, I want to bring you into my home to live with me forever as such. That would mean getting your citizenship for the U.K. and being a member of our society.”

“As a baby?” “Correct.” “That’s crazy.”

“Is it? I understand your skepticism, but hear me out. You are, without a doubt, in dire need of a real family and my husband and I can offer that to you. I know the circumstances definitely feel overwhelming, but simplify it. I just want to care for you and love you.”

“Then why the diapers? Why specifically an adult that likes to dress up as a baby?” “Because those are the types of people who would benefit the most from the

atmosphere that I’m trying to create. A loving, caring, wholesome environment where you are free to be the real you, unburdened from the harsh responsibilities of adulthood. A place where you can start over.”

“Start over? You mean that this wouldn’t be permanent? I wouldn’t have to wear diapers all the time?”

“Exactly. You don’t have to wear them now, but part of you, that part of you that I see just below the surface, wants to. The part of you that connected with that picture you sent me. The part of you that yearns to have what was taken from when your parents passed. That part of you wanted to wear that diaper and that’s the part of you that I want to meet.”

That picture resonated with me on levels that I never knew I had, but what she was talking about was insane. She wanted me to be the baby to her and her husband and eventually, move to their country and live with them full time. I had never heard something so absurd.

“I don’t know if I want to do this.”

“I understand. It’s a lot to take in and I wasn’t planning on talking to you about it until much, much later. Do you still want me to come see you? No pressure or anything, just a friendly visit.”

“I-uh. I guess you can. I wouldn’t want you to waste the money on a plane ticket that you can’t refund.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to see me. I can just stay in a hotel room in New York.”

“No. It’s fine. Maybe my neighbors won’t think I'm some weird loser if I have a girl over.” “I appreciate that. And I appreciate your honesty. What I’m trying to do isn’t easy for

anyone. I haven’t been able to find someone to meet in person.” “There are others?”

“None that panned out. Most just want to be talked to and bossed around. They don’t want a Mommy, they want a disciplinarian to feed their fantasy. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I want someone who genuinely wants me back. I feel like I have ruined everything today. How are you feeling in your diaper? You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

I could hear the sadness in her voice. She just wanted something that she couldn’t have under normal circumstances. I felt as if she and I were kindred spirits.

“It’s warmer than I thought, but fine. I thought I would hate it but it’s actually kind of

comfy.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“No. I really mean it. It doesn’t feel bad at all. It’s kinda like wearing briefs that are thicker

and ride up a little. If I don’t move too much, I can’t even hear them.”

She laughed and a smile crossed her face. “I needed to hear that, thank you.”

“You're welcome.” I said, leaving out the Mommy part. “This is a lot to process and I don’t even know where to begin, but I want you to know that I’m not upset about it or anything, I’m just shocked.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry if this is too much for you. We can discuss it more in the morning. I have to pack for my flight. Are you positive that you want me to come see you?”

“I am. I mean. I’m nervous and scared, but I want to see you.” “Aww, that's so sweet of you to say! How come?”

“I dunno, maybe cause I think you and I could both use a hug right about now.”

She smiled again and her eyes lit up. I felt a swell of pride at the sight of her smile. For the first time in my life, I felt like I could make a woman smile who wasn’t faking it.

“I have to go now but I will text you when I can, okay?” “Okay.”

She lingered on the phone for a moment, like she was trying to memorize my facial features or get enough courage to say something.

“See you soon, my sweet little prince?” She said, her voice soft and hopeful.

“See you soon, Mommy.” I said with a small smile. Her face lit up as she waved goodbye and ended the call. I could swear that I heard a man’s voice in the background at the last second, but couldn’t make it out.

I set my phone down, leaned back, and closed my eyes. I felt overwhelmed and bombarded with information that I didn’t know what to do with. Thinking about it too much made my head hurt and I just wanted to veg out with mindless escapism so I turned on my console and tv, settling in for a long afternoon of gaming.

Hours passed before I got hungry. I hadn’t moved from my spot at all when I remembered what she said. Pizza and pop for dinner! I placed an order through the app on my phone and went back to my game. I hadn’t thought about what I was wearing or my need to use the bathroom until I got a knock at my door. It wasn’t until I stood up to several loud crinkles that I remembered what was in my pants. My eyes grew wide as the box of diapers was in plain view off to the side of my living room floor. I tossed a stack of games on it and went to answer the door, not realizing that I wasn’t wearing a shirt and the waistband of the diaper was sticking up above my sweatpants.

The guy delivering my pizza didn’t miss a beat. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything and I tipped him ten bucks as a non verbal bribe of silence. He left in a hurry and when I set my food down, I noticed my fashion blunder.

“He had to have seen it! Jesus fuck! What is wrong with me?” I said out loud. I crouched down to pick the games out of the diaper box when a tinge hit me in the bladder. I had to pee.

I don’t know what stopped me from running to the bathroom. Was it fear? Was it curiosity? Was it wanting to prove something to myself? I, for the life of me now, couldn’t remember why I didn’t. It was all kind of a blur but I remember standing there in my living room, trying to will myself into peeing. I tried various positions but there was something blocking me from letting go. I even stood over my toilet hoping that the imagery would trick my brain but nothing happened. I resolved to not go until I absolutely had to, so I sat back down on my couch and ate my pizza.

I forgot I even needed to go until hours later. My pizza was half eaten and cold and my pop was almost gone. I guzzled the last bit of it and looked around for something more to drink. I stood up to more noises from my pants and walked to the kitchen, only a few steps away. I turned on the tap and reached for a glass when the tinge in my bladder went from pressure to pain. I had to go and I had to go now!

It must have been the sound of the running water and the time since I had last gone. I didn’t make it but three steps out of the kitchen when the flow started. I say flow when it was more like a torrent. My body had simply had enough of waiting and was going to release whether I wanted to or not. I stopped walking and kind of stood there as the flow kept going and going. At one point, I even spread my legs a little to give more space as it showed no signs of stopping. I was worried about leaking all over my floor as I waddled my way to the bathroom but when I got there, the flow was waning and after a few more moments, it had stopped.

“Huh.” I said as I waited. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for exactly, but I waited. The hot feeling in my pants slowly faded as the moisture seemed to be pulled away from my skin. What was once liquid now became heavy semi solid as the diaper absorbed it all. The tapes were still tight but I felt a sag pulling down on them from between my legs. Out of curiosity, I dropped my sweatpants to my ankles and checked out my handiwork.

There was a definitive sag to the diaper now and I could see it starting to swell. I poked the warm spot and found it to be squishy. I waited for the yuck factor. My misconceptions about diapers and using them was that I would feel filthy having my waste touching my body. I didn’t feel any of that. There was a bit of a squish factor when I sat back down on the couch with my glass of water, but even that didn’t disgust me. It was a strange feeling, but I was neither for or against it. I had mixed feelings on the whole thing and wondered when I should take it off. It was used and once used, it should be removed right?

Changed. Diapers don’t get removed, they get changed. I thought. That was a whole other mind fuck. I needed a diaper change. I, an independent adult male, needed a diaper change. What did that even mean? Well, beyond the obvious. Did I just go and change it? Do I put another one on? Did I ask Patty what I should do? She was on a flight by now, so I doubt that she could answer me. I didn’t know what to do so I figured that if I asked her, then I had time to figure out what I would be comfortable with before she replied.

The diaper is wet.

That is all that I said. I wasn’t taking ownership of the thing or my involvement in its condition change. I set my phone down and reached for my controller when my phone pinged.

Send me a pic.

A pic? What? Why? I wondered. What good would a pic do?

Do I have to? Yes. Now.

I groaned. Something was wrong. Her messages didn’t sound like her and I wondered if her husband was the one replying. I went to the bathroom and tried to find a pose that would show that the thing was wet. I sent the picture of a close up of the thing and added a small message after it.

See? It’s wet.

There wasn’t an immediate response and I felt a sinking in the pit of my stomach.

Something wasn’t right.

Not wet enough. No change for you.

The pit in my stomach was now a ravine, deep and empty. I didn’t know why I felt this way and I was concerned about why I was feeling this way.

You did really well, sweetie! I’m so proud of you! So can I take it off?

No. Not yet. Daddy said you weren’t wet enough. Did you see the picture? It’s pretty wet.

Christopher, do you need a time out? No.

Are you sure? Yes.

Then is that how you talk to your Mommy? No. Sorry, Mommy.

That’s better. Send me a pic the next time you wet and we will go from there. Love you sweetie.

Love you too, Mommy.

I was upset, but not overly. Taking it off would have been the best case scenario but staying in it wasn’t that bad. I went back to my game and tried not to think about it. I couldn’t help but have an earworm about her husband. I didn’t know what to really think, but I felt that if he was going to be a part of this, then things would get hard. I wasn’t comfortable with a man treating me like a baby. I wasn’t even comfortable about a woman treating me like a baby but at least Patty had a caring tone and mannerism.

I pushed it and the state of my pants out of my head, going back to playing my game. It was an action/ adventure game about a guy from a strange land defeating monsters of a different land to deliver the askes of his wife to a mountain. Loved the game, but the hidden bosses were kicking my ass. I was stuck on one in this hellscape land where I had to go through a gauntlet of foes to even get to the boss.

It was a few hours of fighting and swearing before I finally toppled the challenge and reaped the rewards. I stood up in celebration and quickly realized that I had to pee again. I couldn’t fathom that I would have to go again so soon. I hadn’t thought that enough time had passed or that I had drunk enough, but the urge was still there and pressing.

I walked around to the kitchen to refill my glass and thought that I could repeat what happened the first time. No dice. I couldn’t get the flow to start. Confused and frustrated because I had to go and couldn’t, I sat back down, feeling the semi warm sag push up between my legs. I sighed in relaxation and was shocked as the flow started again. My parts were facing in a different direction since the first time and I flooded the front of the diaper. I could feel it trickle over my balls and cover my parts in hot pee.

I felt like this would have been the best time for the yuck factor to kick in. Instead of just a weird, warm feeling, I knew that I was actively peeing on myself, and yet...nothing. It started, it went, and then it stopped and still my brain was fine with it. I wasn’t fine. I was soaked and I wanted out of it. I went back to the bathroom with my phone to take another picture of the diaper’s worsening condition. I sent it to her to see what she would say, knowing full well that I could change at any time and they wouldn’t know. But her comment about honesty nagged at the back of my mind. I was a good person. An honest person. And because of my weak willed nature, an obedient person.

That’s much better. Can I take it off now?

Do you mean to ask if you can change into a clean one? I was just going to take it off.

If that is what you are asking to do, then my answer is no. How come?

Because you have wet yourself twice in three hours and clearly need to be in diapers.

I don’t need to be in diapers!

Are you talking back to me? I wouldn’t advise that. No. I’m not talking back. I just want to take it off.

Take what off? The diaper.

Why?

Because it’s wet.

And how did it get wet? I peed in it.

I see. You have a working toilet, right? Yes.

And yet you peed in your diaper. Is that correct? Yes.

So why should I let you out of your wet diaper? Cause it’s wet. And it’s making me feel wet.

So you want to be dry? Yes.

Then you may change into a fresh diaper. But that’s not what I asked.

Those are your options. Stay in your wet diaper or change into a clean one.

Understood?

Yes.

Yes, what? Yes, Daddy.

Good boy. Now go get changed and send me a pic of your clean diaper. Okay.

Again I had lost control of the situation and wound up in a strange place. I imagined him having a deep voice and reprimanding me like I was a small child. I didn’t understand what was

happening, I just felt compelled to do what I was told. I grabbed a clean diaper and the sample pack of wipes and retreated to my room to change. I fluffed the diaper like she had instructed me to and laid it out on the bed. I torn the tapes open on the one I was wearing and let it fall to the floor with a wet thump. It felt good to let the air touch my skin. I opened the wipes and after reeling at how cold they felt, wiped my front diaper area and between my legs. I felt refreshed as I dropped the wipes onto the used diaper. I got onto the bed and laid down on the new one, remembering what Patty had said and wiggled it up between my legs before I taped it into place. I was much quicker this time and less hesitant. I got off the bed and shuffled a little bit to get it situated right before rolling the used one into a ball and dropping it into the trash. I didn’t bother putting my sweatpants back on as I would just have to take them off again to take a picture.

I returned to the living room and caught a glimpse of my reflection in my patio doors. The doors faced a wooded area and no one could directly see me. It was dark so the doors had a mirror like quality to them. I honestly didn’t look as ridiculous as I felt I would. The thing hugged my body fairly well and didn’t look stupid. I grabbed my phone and retreated to the bathroom noticing that I had a new friend request. Unsurprisingly, it was Patty’s husband, Dominic.

I ignored it for the moment and took a picture of myself. I thought about sending it to her but accepted his request and sent the picture to him. I knew in the back of my mind that I was getting in over my head, but I was also just doing what I was told. I don’t know why sending him the picture made me shake so much. I think it was the humiliation of sending a picture of the diaper on my body to another man. Or it was the feeling like I wasn’t really a man at all to be doing the things he was telling me to do.

Don’t you have something to say? I changed like you told me to.

And where is your appreciation?

I wasn’t foolish enough to challenge him. I knew what he was getting at and what he wanted. It was something I had seen in many posts throughout my time on the net. He was the alpha, dominant type and he wanted to be recognized as such.

Thank you for letting me change, Daddy. You are very welcome. What is your name? Mommy didn’t tell you?

I’m not talking to Mommy, I’m talking to you. My name is Chris, Daddy.

Chris, huh? Well, that sounds too grown up for you, don’t you think? Yes?

Good. I will think of a name more fitting for my little diaper boy. Would you like

that?

Yes, Daddy.

Another first for the night. After wearing a diaper, peeing in one twice, and changing into

another, I was also being degraded by another man.

Are you ready to spend quality time with Mommy? Yes. I’m nervous though.

Nervous? How come?

Cause she told me you want a full time baby to live with you. She did huh? And how do you feel about that?

way?

bed. diaper.

Scared. I don’t know if this is the life that I want. Why not?

Cause I’m not a real baby like you want. What happens if you don’t like me that

Who said we wouldn’t like you?

No one. But this whole thing is really weird and I don’t know what to think about it. It sounds like someone has been thinking about it too much and needs to go to

I’m not tired yet. Mommy said I could play games all night for putting on the Did she now? Well, I will have to talk to her about that. In the meantime, is your

diaper still dry?

Yes.

Good, then head off to bed. It’s late and we will be there in the morning. I don’t want you to be cranky when I drop Mommy off.

I don’t get cranky.

Everyone gets cranky when they are tired. I need to get some sleep too. Don’t think too much about it. Even if it were to happen, it’s a long way off. For now, just focus on being a good boy and spending time with Mommy. She really likes you.

She does?

Yes. But no more questions. Off to bed, baby boy. Yes, Daddy.

I was already in my bed. My place was dark and I just had the light on my phone screen. It felt weird laying in just the diaper in my bed. It kind of slid and slipped on my sheets, but was otherwise comfortable. I didn’t know what to think. Part of me was scared at his attempts to be dominant and the other part seemed to think that behind the facade, he was caring like she was. I lay in bed for a while, staring into the darkness when I got one last message ping on my phone.

Daddy likes you. Can’t wait to see you! Love you, my little prince!

I saw that Daddy was still online so I didn’t reply. He told me to go to bed and I did what I was told. I set my phone down and contemplated everything. My hand rested on the front of the diaper and I found myself absentmindedly rubbing it. The smooth plastic was calming. I wasn’t aroused by it, but the soft crinkling was hypnotic. There were so many thoughts running through my head that the melodic sounds were soothing, drowning out the what ifs and slowly lulling me to sleep.

I was awoken by a pounding on my door. I slept restlessly and was heavily groggy when the knocking at my door roused me from my slumber. I wasn’t conscious as I stumbled out of my room and towards my door. It was too early for me to be up for work and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I had completely forgotten what I was wearing as I pulled open the door. The locking chain caught the door before it could fly open, but the two inch gap was enough for the person on the other side to see the diaper.

Her blue eyes were alight with joy upon seeing me and it took me a moment to comprehend who she was. Behind her, he stood. A foot taller and wider than his pictures. They looked at me with bemused expressions.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Patty said. I mumbled something in response. I don’t remember if it was words or just consonants. I stepped back after undoing the chain and let them inside.

Patty stepped in and set her bag down. Dominic followed behind her, carrying some luggage. “Still dry, boy?” He said jokingly, setting the luggage down.

“Leave him alone, Dominic, he’s not awake.” Patty said. She grabbed me by the hand. “Let’s get you back into bed, sweetie. Can you lead the way?”

I rubbed my eyes as I staggered back to my room. Patty was a step behind me and I felt her eyes on me. I was too sleepy to notice or care. I crawled back into my bed and felt her lips on my forehead.

“See you in the morning, honey.” She said. I couldn’t tell if she patted my butt or if I imagined it, but I quickly slipped off to sleep.

I woke up some time later to my phone alarm going off. I opened my eyes and hated my life. I hated working and especially hated getting up to an alarm. I sat up and for a moment, didn’t understand the noises and sensations that I experienced. I looked down and the realization came to me. I had slept through the night in a diaper. To be honest, I hadn’t really noticed. Besides feeling warm down there because of the plastic shell and not that it was wet. It wasn’t wet, but man did I have to pee. I sat there and debated what I should do. Should I reach out to Mommy or Daddy and ask them to use the bathroom, or should I just take it off and move on with my day? I couldn’t decide on my own. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked at my phone. There were no new messages from them and I had about an hour to get my shit together and get to work.

I yawned and stood up to stretch, reaching as high as I could to loosen my muscles. The diaper’s crinkle had all but faded due to my constant tossing and turning. The diaper was kind of loose thanks to my nighttime activities and I pulled it up so that it was back where it was supposed to sit.

“Good morning, Chris.” A feminine voice said behind me. I jumped at it and spun around, my hands instinctively going down to cover the diaper that I was wearing.

“Wha-?” I said, shocked at the sight before me. She stood in my doorway, looking absolutely stunning. She was about my height, a little heavier set, with wide hips and an ample bosom. Her auburn hair hung half across her face and it highlighted her dazzling blue eyes.

“Patty?” I said, confused at her presence in my house.

“I believe my name is Mommy. How are you today?” She said with a smile.

My mind was blank as to how she got into my house. I couldn’t remember what had happened mere hours ago, it was an incomprehensible mess of incoherent images. My foggy memory didn’t lend any credence to the reality I faced.

“Chris? Are you okay?”

“I...uh...yeah, I’m okay. Just surprised.”

“Don’t remember last night, do you? That’s okay. It was two in the morning after all and you went back to bed right after. Do you need to be changed?”

“Huh?”

There were a few clearer memories about last night and some pieces fell into place.

“Your diaper. Is it wet?”

I glanced down and realized that I was still trying to hide it behind my hands. “Oh. No. It’s

still dry.”

“I see. Well, your breakfast is ready, so let’s go out and meet Daddy.”

“Wait. Huh? Can I put pants on first?” I said, scrambling to not do this right now. “He saw you like this when we got here, there really isn’t anything to hide.”

I suddenly felt on edge and shy. To be in this state in front of her was one thing. With her, I felt like I could let my guard down and be sensitive, but to stand in front of a man like this was just too much.

“I-I can’t. I’m too scared.” I finally said, trembling where I stood.

“Is something wrong?” She said, stepping into the room. She walked around to my side and pulled me towards her. “Shhh. It’s okay, sweetie. We can take it one step at a time. I’m not trying to rush you into anything. We were just so excited to meet you. We’ve waited so long to find someone like you.” She said, pulling my head down onto her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around me and just held me. My head was swirling in confusion and I didn’t know what to do. Her warm embrace and her getting through my guard enough to touch me had my body in a state of turmoil. I didn’t even know what was going on until she made a comment.

“Oh, I think someone needs his diaper changed!” She said, breaking the embrace. I looked down and immediately flushed red in shame. The front of the diaper was warm and swelling with pee. “Do you want me to change you?”

“I…” I tried to talk but couldn’t. She must have sensed my altered state because she took my hand and led me out to the living room. What resistance or masculinity I may have had now resided in the front of the diaper. She led me past my kitchen and I kind of flopped into my spot on my couch in a daze. She brought a tv tray that she set in front of me and returned shortly thereafter with a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage. I couldn’t recall having eggs or sausage in my fridge which led to my confusion and out of body experience.

Dominic was looking over my video game collection. I tried to not make a noise or draw attention to myself but it was clear from the fussing that Patty was doing over me that he knew I was in the room. Patty had set my plate down and added a glass of chocolate milk to the ensemble before sitting next to me. Part of me felt like she was anxious to do more, like feed me or something, but was holding herself back. She looked at Dominic with an expression that I could only decipher as hopeful before excusing herself to the kitchen to clean up the morning’s dishes. He waited until she was out of the room, which I had to tell myself was only three steps away from the couch, before he sat down next to me.

I felt like I was an inch tall. His presence radiated power and authority. He didn’t need to speak to impose his alpha status on me and I was waiting for him to say or do something that would hammer that point home.

“You have good taste in games, Chris. Which one is your favorite?”

His question caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to talk to me like an equal. His tone and stance implied a level playing field and yet, there I sat, in a wet diaper, knowing that he had told me to wear it.

“I..uh...I don’t know...I like all sorts I guess.”

“That’s good. But I asked which one that you have here is your favorite.”

I was slowly building confidence with him. He wasn’t telling me to do anything or pointing out my inadequacies. If it wasn’t for my padded situation, we could have been two guys just talking about games.

“Well...there is this series with bioweapons that I like. They used to be scary but now, not so much.”

“Isn’t there one or two of them that have co-op?”

“Y-yeah. The fifth and sixth games have co-op. I never have anyone to play with though.” “Well, maybe after my meetings today, we could play one of them together? That sound

fun?”

“I...uh...I guess. I..d-don’t get off work till three though.”

“That’s fine. I won’t be finished with my meetings till later than that. Speaking of which, I

need to get going, so dig in to that breakfast and I will see you later?” He asked, standing up. “Y-yeah. I-I’ll be here.”

“Splendid.” He said, walking into the kitchen and kissing Patty goodbye. “See you then,

Chris.”

“B-bye.” I said, trying to sound less like a scared little boy and more like a man. It didn’t

work. He walked out the door and I turned my focus to my plate, trying hard to compartmentalize what was happening to me. I ate my eggs and sausage, finding it to be rather delicious, before realizing that I was running out of time to get ready for work. I hurried to my room to grab my clothes and headed for the shower. I hadn’t taken care of my plate nor did I noticed that most of my laundry was done. I stripped off the diaper and left it by the toilet, hopping into the shower and scrubbing vigorously to get the pee smell off. I was so in the zone that I barely noticed Patty as she took the sodden garment away. I hadn’t really paid attention to much before I was stopped at the door by her. She was holding a brown paper bag and my car keys.

“I made you lunch. Nothing too crazy but it should tide you over until dinner. Will you text me on your breaks?”

I hadn’t thought about her still being here when I got home. I hadn’t really thought about anything past the next five minutes of my life, but she looked so sweet and caring that I had to stop and take pause.

“Yeah. I think I can do that.”

“Daddy is happy to meet you. I’m excited to see you two bond tonight when I’m out shopping.”

“Shopping?”

“Oh, yes. You need a lot of groceries so I was going to pick some up this afternoon after you got home from work. Which reminds me that we need to talk about some rules for this week.”

“Rules? You mean like the diaper thing?”

“Yes. The diaper thing. There will be one waiting for you as soon as you come through this door and I hope that you will be my brave boy and not fight me on it.”

I groaned but nodded. “I really have to go though or I’m going to be late.”

“Okay. Have a good day, sweetheart and Mommy will talk to you on your break. Love

you.”

“Love you too.” I said, grabbing the bag and heading out the door. I was going to be pressed for time to not be late and during my commute, the only thing I could think of was what awaited me when I got home. Diapers. And a Mommy and Daddy.

I want to take a moment here and state for the record that I didn’t really hate my job. I worked in a grocery warehouse which was really a distribution center. We would get truck loads of various products, essentially a whole store in and of ourselves, but massive. We had everything you would find in your local store, just insane amounts of it. My job was working in the grocery section, namely dry goods. I loaded pallets with the products that stores needed for their grocery department so they could be shrink wrapped and shipped to the stores. It wasn’t a glorious job in the slightest. It was a high pressure job. Not stressful, but high activity, low downtime. We had quotas to meet and little room for error.

My direct supervisor, Karen, lived up to the derogatory slur her name had been made into. An overweight, pudding of a woman, she waddled around our department demanding increased efficiency at the cost of safety and human decency. Forever stuck in lower middle management, she tried to be the master of her domain, but was pathetically outclassed by every other management person in the plant.

I had been working there long enough to get onto day shift. The turnover rate was high in places like this and moving up was a distinct possibility on a monthly basis. All new hires were broken in on the midnight shift and the day shift was where you wanted to end up. We pulled the orders for the night crews in the stores to stock their shelves. Afternoons pulled for hardlines - clothes and health and beauty, and midnights pulled for everything else - furniture, electronics, automotive, etc. The great thing about working days was that it was always consistent. You always had work and weren’t sent to other shifts to cover for call ins. That was the extent of the good perks though, everything else was the same terrible grind as all other service industries.

You slaved for basic wages, barely got breaks or perks, and no matter how hard you worked, it was never enough.

I guess I could say that the last great thing was that I didn’t need to think to do my job. Read the order requirements per skid, stack it safely so it could be wrapped and shipped, move on to the next one. It gave me plenty of time to think and believe me when I say I did a lot of thinking that day. So much so that I barely said a word to the guy working next to me. Carl, his name was, and he spent most of his day listening to conspiracy theory podcasts. If it wasn’t obvious, we weren’t friends.

I spent the day thinking about Patty and Dominic. I tried to wrap my head around what I had gotten myself into. In the span of a day or so, I had entered into an agreement to be the baby for these two, and they had come to my place. On top of that, I had willingly put on and used two diapers, with her intention of putting me in another one as soon as I got home from work. There were going to be rules as well. My guess was rules about how I was expecting to behave, what they wanted me to do, and of course, how to be their baby. To top all of that off, Dominic wanted to play games with me. He was trying to be my friend, even I could sense that, but I couldn’t shake the reality of his actions.

He didn’t truly want to be my friend, he wanted to be my Daddy.