If anyone can help me come up with a title for this beast, please do it’s bugging me to not have one or be able to think of a good one. Anyway, please enjoy this foray into a little bit more of a somber story than I try to write regularly, I hope it’s not as boring and unreadable as I believe it is.
By: Dementia’s Knight
“Bless me Father for I have sinned. It’s been…forever since my last confession.” I said in the quiet confessional booth. My eyes focused on an ancient piece of chewing gum that was cemented to the ground in an attempt to not focus on what I was about to say.
“What is your sin my son?” a kind and soothing voice asked from the other side of the mesh grating above where I was kneeling.
I sighed and thought over the events of the past year. I thought about my actions and the pain they’d caused. “I deceived the woman I love Father.” I said. “I’ve been living a lie for the past year, and I want to come clean but I’m worried that she’ll leave me once she knows the truth.” I explained.
The man on the other side said nothing for a moment, and I began to worry that he had no guidance for me, that I was wrong to come to confess, that the answer that I wanted wouldn’t be found in this place.
“Do you truly love this woman?” the man asked.
I nodded. “Yes Father, with all my heart.” I answered.
“And does she love you the same?” he asked.
Again I nodded. “Yes Father, I believe she does.” I said.
“Then be truthful to her. If your bond is as strong as you believe it to be then no force in Heaven or on Earth shall be able to dissolve it.” the man said, the tone of his voice indicating that he was smiling.
I thanked the man and left the confessional booth, my eyes glued to the floor as I marched out into the rainy night. As I stood at the top of the front stairs of the church I pulled the collar of my trench coat up and buttoned myself in. I lit a cigarette and breathed in deeply as I looked out at the pouring rain. My mind was filled with doubt and fear as I took the first step from the church and into uncertainty.
One Year Earlier
I looked at her over the top of my newspaper. She was doing another crossword in the phone book sized puzzle book I’d gotten her the day before. She looked beautiful sitting there chewing the end of her pen as she scanned her brain for the answers she needed. Her dark red hair flowed over her shoulders, the contrast of the dark red against her pale skin creating a striking loveliness. I smiled as I watched her furrow her brow and wrinkle her adorable little nose at the complexity of the puzzle she was working on.
“What’s a nine letter word for ‘intimacy’?” she asked, shattering the silence of the kitchen.
I set my paper down and began stroking my chin for dramatic effect and then smiled at her. “I love you.” I answered.
She returned my smile, her cheeks dimpling ever so slightly. “That’s only eight letters, and it’s three words.” she said with mock exasperation and an eye roll.
I got up from my chair and walked over to her, removing the book from her hand and setting on the table as I leaned in and kissed her on the lips. I felt her body stiffen as I moved my hand up her back and pulled her closer to me. I took her by the hand as I broke our kiss off and led her back to the bedroom. “I’m not sure how many letters it has, but let me show you what my next guess is.” I told her as we entered the room, shutting the door behind us.
I still find it bizarre that I have a beautiful girlfriend, a girl that loves me more than anything, a girl that I love more than anything, and despite all that I still fantasize about diapers and being babied. It seems so stupid to me that even though I have the perfect relationship, I think I’d be happier having this woman as my “mommy”. Of course I could never tell her that, I love her too much to risk losing her over some trivial fetish. But the niggling thoughts in the back of my brain tell me that there are other ways of getting what I want.
I started to put my plan into action when I got my new job. As strange as it may seem that something so responsible and adult could open a door to an infantile life, it did just that. I remember the days leading up to that fateful night being the most agonizing days of my life. The internal struggle with what I was planning on doing, the thoughts of the lies that would have to stack up in order for my plan to come to fruition. The fear that if she found out about the lies that I’d be dumped in a heartbeat, and more than that, the fear that discovering my lies would bring her more pain than she’d ever know.
The night I started my new regimen we had a wonderful dinner in celebration of my new job. I cooked for a change, making a delicious Parmesan stuffed chicken which managed to turn out completely edible. We had a few glasses of wine with dinner, and retired to the bedroom for some more personal activities.
As I lay next to her that night in bed my heart was racing in anticipation, and my mind was galloping itself to try and keep up. I remember watching her sleep for the longest time, marveling at her natural beauty and asking myself why I felt the need to risk something so wonderful for a little indulgence in my personal fetish. Somewhere in the mire of my thoughts I realized that the time had come, it was now or never, and with a heavy sigh I rolled away from her and relaxed myself until my full bladder emptied itself.
Wetting the bed that night was the strangest experience of my life. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders once the flow stopped, but then I felt like a weight ten times greater had been added once it was over and I knew I couldn’t take it back. I lay in bed, feeling the warm wetness cooling underneath me, knowing that some of the wetness had flowed under me and over to her. I shut my eyes and genuinely tried to sleep despite my worry. After what seemed like an eternity I felt her shift in her sleep, I sensed her confusion there in the darkness, and almost screamed when her hand touched my shoulder suddenly.
“Honey, wake up.” she said as she gently shook me.
I feigned grogginess as I rolled over to face her in the dark of the bedroom. “What’s wrong?” I asked in my best “I was really asleep” voice.
“I think you wet the bed.” she said, her tone of voice pitying and sympathetic.
Now was my time to start my Oscar worthy performance. I shot up and felt the soaked bedding around me. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry honey.” I stammered out, almost believing that the whole thing had really been an accident.
She put her hand on my shoulder and turned me toward her, pulling me into her arms. “It’s alright, accidents happen. Go get a shower real quick, and I’ll strip the bed.” she said.
I nodded and climbed out of the bed and went into the bathroom. As I stood in the shower with the hot water beating down on me I felt happy that she was accepting of my “accident”, and hoped that she’d continue to support me as I continued with my plan.
For a week after that initial accident I’d wet the bed every night. Each time I did it she hugged me and told me that she still loved me, then she’d send me to the shower and take care of the bedding. I began to get impatient with the way things were going, basing my plan on story’s I’d read about people wetting the bed and getting put back into diapers had jaded me to the reality of what should be happening in this situation.
She came to me one afternoon when I was reading on the couch. She had several folded pieces of paper in her hand as she sat down next to me. “I know that you don’t want to talk about it, but I think we need to do something about your accidents.” she said as she placed a hand on my knee gently.
I nodded and set my book down, swallowing hard with anticipation for what this conversation would lead to. “Alright.” I said with a feigned look of worry on my face.
“I was looking on the internet this morning and I found this.” she said as she passed the papers over to me.
I opened the folded papers and saw “Stress Incontinence” on the top of the page in bold. I read the papers while she spoke to me.
“The site I found said that it’s a fairly common occurrence, and can be caused by starting a new job. So I figured that this might be what’s causing your accidents.” she said.
I nodded. “Sounds like it might be.” I said as I continued to read the papers.
“Now, I know it’s embarrassing, but I want you to go to the doctor tomorrow and get checked out to make sure it’s not something more serious.” she said.
I set the papers down on the coffee table and smiled at her. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to get this under control.” I told her before we hugged and kissed one another. I watched her smile and head off to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving me with a smile of my own, my plan was moving along after all.
The afternoon after I pretended to go to the doctor was so stressful that I might have actually wet my pants if I really had a medical condition. We sat down and talked about what the doctor I had made up had told me. “He said that I’m healthy as a horse.” I told her.
“That’s great!” she said with an ear to ear smile as she hugged me, the relief in her voice making me feel worse for lying to her and worrying her so much. “Did he have any suggestions about how to stop the accidents?” she asked as she pulled away from our hug.
I nodded. “He said that I should try bladder strengthening exercises three times a day, limit my liquid intake before bed, and,” I paused, the moment that my entire plan hinged on was about to come tumbling from my mouth, it was the point in time where things would be great or horrible. “I should try absorbent undergarments until the accidents stop.” I finished, trying not to sound happy about saying it.
She looked at me for a moment, making me feel like I was on trial. I worried that she was going to want to talk to the doctor for some reason, I worried that she would see through my lie and leave me. Then she smiled at me and put her hand on mine, and I knew that everything was good.
“I know it’s embarrassing babe, but if it will help I think you should try it.” she told me.
I nodded and went to the bag that I’d left by the front door when I came in. I carried it over to the table and set it down. “He recommended those.” I said as she began to pull a package of Attends from the bag.
She set the diapers aside after reading the packaging, and then pulled out the other items. Soon a container of baby powder, rash cream, and a pack of wipes joined the diapers on display in the center of the table. My face flushed as I looked at the items on the table and looked at her smiling face, she accepted this whole thing, her love for me transcending a silly thing like having a boyfriend that wore diapers to bed.
“I still love you.” she said with a smile as she got up and hugged me.
“I still love you.” I said as I hugged her back.
Her giggling caused me to pull her away and look at her face, which she quickly buried into my chest to hide that she was laughing.
“What’s funny?” I asked her.
She stifled her laughter and fanned her reddened face. “I just pictured you wearing diapers and me babysitting you while you played on the floor with your toys.” she said with renewed laughter and a kiss to my cheek.
I laughed with her, or possibly at her. It was as if she’d read a page from my thought diary, and hadn’t slammed the book shut and run away screaming. “Thanks for the support.” I said.
“I’m sorry, but it was a really cute image.” she confessed.
And in that moment as we hugged and laughed together, I felt relief that my plan was almost complete.
That night after my shower I came into the bedroom to find her sitting on the foot of the bed, diaper in hand and all the supplies on the floor next to a laid out towel.
“What’s all this?” I asked as I glanced over the items on the floor.
She shrugged and smiled. “I figured that since you’ve never even changed a diaper before, let alone put one on yourself, and with my years of babysitting experience that maybe I should help you get ready for bed.” she explained.
I felt my whole body turn red as she got up from the bed and removed the towel from my waist. I let her take me by the hand and lead me to the makeshift changing pad where I sat down and laid back, my heart racing the entire time.
She unfolded the diaper and slid it under me as I lifted my bottom at her request. I heard the package of wipes open and felt a cold wetness rub across my inner thigh and travel upward to my groin. I began to get excited as she expertly cleaned my genitals and then made a quick pass over my bottom.
“Looks like somebody likes getting cleaned up before bed.” she said playfully as she set the used wipe aside and began to sprinkle my groin with powder.
I could only nod as I closed my eyes and let the sweet smell of the powder invade my nostrils. I wiggled a little as she rubbed the powder in, paying extra attention to my manhood. I bit the inside of my cheek as she gently rubbed my lower area with powder in the same way I’d dreamed of her doing so many times before. Then it was over, she pulled the diaper up and taped it securely into place before heading to the bathroom to wash her hands. All I could do was lay there on the floor in a state of bliss, I finally had what I wanted, and I was sharing it with the woman I loved.
That night as we lay together in bed, I thought about how I could further incorporate my fetish into our lives, and went to sleep with a smile on my face.
Two weeks had gone by since the first night she’d diapered me. She’d continued the ritual every night since. I wondered why she insisted on diapering me every night rather than just having me do it myself, and when I finally managed to ask her all she said was “It makes me happy.”, which was music to my ears.
I’d started to try and become more dependent on her for things in an effort to get her vision of me diapered and playing with toys on the floor to come to fruition. I began to stay in bed with a wet diaper on for an hour or so after waking up to get her to come in and change me, I would pretend not to know if I was wet or not and get up and eat breakfast with my diaper still on under my pajamas, neither of which produced the desired results.
It wasn’t until we went for a picnic by the lake that I decided to do something drastic. We sat underneath a large tree looking out at the water as people played games and shared their own picnics in the park. It was here that I decided to test the waters of her tolerance and patience further by wetting my pants. I waited until she was talking about the lake, looking out at the water and explaining the history of the area, to relax and let nature take it’s course.
“Oh my gosh!” she said as she turned back around and saw the dark wet spot on the crotch of my pants.
I looked down with her and turned five shades of red. “No.” I cried out as I stared at the wet denim.
She sighed and got up and quickly packed everything before leading the way back to the car. She set the blanket on my seat and helped me into the car before getting in on her own side.
“Did you even know you had to go?” she asked as we drove home.
I shook my head and looked down at my wet pants with a look of shame. “I’m sorry.” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
She sighed and held her hand out for me to take. “It’s alright babe. I’m not mad at you, just worried.” she explained as she squeezed my hand lovingly.
When we got home I took a shower and the night continued normally until bedtime. After she got my diaper on she pulled me close to her and hugged me. “I know it was only an accident, but I want you to go back to the doctor tomorrow and tell him what happened.” she said.
I had agreed to go to the doctor, and had lied the next night when I told her that I had done just that. I told her that nothing was physically wrong with me, and that the doctor advised me to wear diapers during the day if the accidents continued.
The next few days were the hardest of my entire life. I had to wet my pants at the supermarket, the bank, and even at work. When she got home from work the day I’d wet myself on the job she held me while I cried from the embarrassment as I explained what had happened. The office had told me to take a few days off to get control of things, and had sent me home until the following work week. Looking back on it, I’m lucky I wasn’t let go for such an event.
After my crying had subsided we went to the bedroom where she lovingly diapered me and then snuggled into bed next to me and rocked me gently while she stroked my head. I nestled myself into her bosom and smiled as she soothed me to sleep that evening.
The next day I woke up to find that she’d gone to work as usual. I padded out to the kitchen and found a note on the counter from her.
I’m going to try and get off work early today so we can spend some extra time together. Be good and try not to make any messes.
I smiled when I read the note, and absently pondered what “messes” meant. I wondered how a messy diaper would go over with her, but then quickly dismissed it on the grounds that she’d be disgusted and I’d have to clean myself up.
I spent the day lounging around the house in just my diaper and a shirt. I ended up changing after my diaper almost fell off while I was washing the dishes. No sooner had I gotten my dry diaper on was it wet again, it was then that I felt the need to relieve my other bodily urge. I looked at the clock, if my girlfriend was able to get off work early she could be home soon. I weighed the situation carefully and opted to try and hold it.
The front door opened a half hour later while I was watching TV on the floor of the living room. I realized that I was still not wearing any pants, and suddenly felt foolish sitting there like a small child.
“Hi sweetheart!” she said with a smile as she came into the living room and saw me sitting on the floor.
“Hi, how was your day?” I asked as I stood up and went to hug her.
“Good, how was yours?” she asked as she hugged me back.
“Uneventful.” I told her before kissing her on the cheek.
She broke our embrace and looked me over with a smile. “I see you’ve been busy.” she said as she cupped the front of my yellowed diaper in her hand.
I blushed and hung my head, unsure of how to answer her.
“Aww, it’s alright honey, that’s what the diapers are for. Did you make it to the bathroom at all today?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, I tried to though.” I lied.
“Well, let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll go grab some food.” she said with a smile as she took my hand and led me to the bedroom.
We went to my favorite Mexican food restaurant that night, and enjoyed a hearty meal of Enchiladas. I wet myself during dinner and felt the need to poop as we headed to the car. My mind tried to rationalize messing my diaper as I sat next to her in the car on the way home. “It’s just an accident.” I thought, trying to make it seem acceptable for a healthy grown man to poop his pants.
As the car hit a stop light I made up my mind. I lifted my butt off the seat slightly and began to push. It’s surprisingly difficult to mess yourself quietly in a moving vehicle, thankfully the radio was on and the road was full of traffic that kept her attention on the road. As the mess emerged from me and into the seat of my diaper I felt remorse for what I was doing. Once I’d finished I relaxed and sat back down, mashing the mess with my weight causing it to stick to my bottom and squish around to the front.
“What’s that smell?” she asked several minutes after I’d done the deed.
I looked around and sniffed the air, trying to make it look like I had no idea what I’d done. “Did you step in something?” I asked.
“No, it just started stinking in her a minute ago.” she said.
I sat in silence, waiting for her to put the pieces together in her mind. My heart pounded in my chest with each passing second as I looked over at her and studied her face for a look of realization.
“You didn’t,” she started as she looked at me with a look of concern.
I remained silent and looked at her blankly.
“You know, poop your diaper.” she finally managed to say.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” I told her.
“I think you did honey.” she said as she rolled down all the windows of the car.
The rest of the drive home was quiet and embarrassing. My mess clung to my backside as a constant reminder of my mistake, and the look on her face did nothing to make me feel better.
When we got home we went straight to the bedroom and she had me lay down on the changing towel. She sighed as she pulled down my pants and prodded the back of my diaper.
“You have a messy diaper.” she said as she folded my pants up and set them on the bed.
“I’m sorry.” I said meekly as I turned my face away.
She leaned forward and hugged me as I lay there on the floor like a toddler. “It’s alright baby, accidents happen.” she said, her tone strained as if she was trying to convince herself that this was actually alright. She opened my diaper and quickly cleaned me up, the look on her face clearly one of disgust and resentment toward me. Once I was clean and a new diaper was on me she helped me up onto the bed and went to wash her hands.
“I’m so sorry.” I told her again as she came back into the room and sat next to me on the bed.
She hugged me tightly and rocked me in her arms. “Well, it’s not like you did it on purpose.” she told me.
I nodded and hugged her tightly, my guilt welling up inside and bringing me to tears. That night I laid in bed for hours wondering if I should continue with my charade. I went to sleep undecided on the matter.
The next few months were a downward spiral for my toilet training and my adulthood. I’d taken to sucking on her breasts when we cuddled together, and balking at doing things around the house. She’d taken a more maternal role in our relationship by checking my diapers every so often and even bathing me on occasion. It wasn’t until we were at her family’s Christmas party that I started to feel like she was on the same page with me about my being an adult baby.
We were sitting in the living room with her family and I went to get another plate of cookies. She followed me into the kitchen and watched me grab a handful of treats and put them onto my plate which she quickly snatched from my hand.
“Hey, get your own plate.” I told her as I reached for my desserts.
“I think you’ve had enough for tonight.” she whispered.
I stared at her in disbelief for a moment. “But I want more.” I whined.
She smiled and patted my diapered bottom gently. “And I don’t want a hyper little boy with a very messy diaper later.” she said.
I blushed brightly, afraid that everyone now knew about my diapers. “I want them.” I said firmly as I snatched the plate back and quickly ate a cookie.
Her smile quickly faded as she grabbed my hand suddenly, causing me to drop the plate, and dragged me back into the living room. “I’m sorry everyone, but it appears that I have to get my cranky little man here to bed. Thank you for the wonderful time, merry Christmas.” she said to everyone in the room before leading me by the hand out of the house and to the car.
“I can’t believe what a baby you are!” she shouted as we drove home.
I started to argue and then remembered that I was wearing a wet diaper that she’d soon be changing me out of and into a dry one.
She sighed. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder if my boyfriend is still in there, or if I gave birth to a big baby and just forgot about it.” she said.
“I’m sorry.” I said quietly.
She shook her head. “Always sorry. Well, this time sorry isn’t good enough.” she said. “When we get home, your going to get a well deserved spanking.” she told me.
“No! Why?” I asked.
“You acted like a spoiled toddler in there tonight, and since I already have to have your diaper off, I might as well handle the problem with a fitting punishment.” she explained.
When we got home she dragged me into the house and quickly stripped me down. With amazing strength she pulled me up over her knee and began to spank my behind as hard as she could. Within minutes I was crying and kicking my legs in protest, until finally she let me go and I fell to the floor a sniveling wreck.
“Now, get over here so I can put a diaper on you before you have an accident all over the place.” she commanded.
I quickly complied, and she diapered me in the most robotic and uncaring fashion I’d ever seen. With my new diaper on she helped me into bed and left the room, leaving me to let my thoughts on the night sink in.
“Wake up baby.” her sweet voice cooed as the sun warmed my face.
I opened my eyes and looked up at her smiling face. “Morning.” I said, wondering if she’d forgotten about the previous night’s events.
“I did a lot of thinking last night.” she said as she opened my wet diaper and began to clean me up.
“You did?” I asked, worried that she might be leading up to the part where she left me.
She nodded as she sprinkled powder over my groin. “I did, and I realized that what I said was really mean. I love you, and you’re going through a stressful time. I read on the internet last night that sometimes adults regress when life gets too stressful to cope.” she explained as she taped a new diaper onto me. “So, I’ve decided that if you need to be little to help you deal with what you’re going through that I’ll support it until you get better.” she told me with a smile.
I felt sick and ecstatic at the same time. I’d gotten my wish but not the way I wanted it. Now instead of her wanting to be a mommy to me, she was just taking care of her mentally ill boyfriend. “Thank you.” I said before I began to cry.
True to her words, she helped me sit up and pulled me close to her. She lifted her shirt and bra and guided her nipple into my mouth to stifle my cries. I blushed with shame and began to suckle as she rocked me in her arms and patted my diapered bottom to calm me.
Another few months went by with her caring for me like a good mother. She’d gotten me bottles and pacifiers, several toys for “tubby time”, and even gotten her old rocking horse and playpen out of storage for use around the house. I had everything I could ever want in life, and was miserable because I knew that without telling her the truth all of it would have to end soon or else she might commit me to an asylum.
One night I snuck out and went to church, somewhere I hadn’t been since I was a small child. It was there that I met with the priest that advised me to be honest with my girlfriend about the whole last year of our lives together.
Now here I sit at the kitchen table, pen in my hand and paper in front of me. My hand shakes as I write my confession to her. My eyes well up with tears that roll down my cheeks as I write the words I can’t say to her face. I sign my letter with my love and fold it up, sliding it under the bedroom door as I walk out of our house, and out of my dream life.
For those of you wondering just how I handled my confession, here it is.
You have made me the happiest man in the world. From the moment I first laid eyes on you I knew that you were the woman I wanted to marry. I write this to tell you that I have been dishonest with you over the past year. I never went to any doctors, and I never had any medical condition. I am in fact an adult baby/diaper lover, and this year of lies was a selfish ploy to get you to indulge in my fantasy. You have been amazing over the past year, as you were every minute of every day before that.
I know that your heart will break to find out that I am a liar, and that you may never again trust me. But if you never believe anything else in your life, believe that I love you with every beat of my heart and know that I am eternally sorry for any pain that I’ve caused you. If you someday find it in your heart to forgive me for what I’ve done to you, please look me up.
My undying love to you."
And that’s how I left things between us two months ago. I still hold out hope that she’ll call me, but I know that’s next to impossible. I will say this about the whole ordeal, sometimes the price of getting everything you want is losing the only thing you really need.