Her Son

On July 12, Jack Kennedy visited a music festival organized by Aiki Beach Park in Seattle. The festival wasn’t huge, but it was enough for Jack to visit all the food and wine vendors who lined up the long beach strip. Music from the event was so loud, he could hear the pulsating jazz-centric bass at his apartment, which was located a mile away. His friends told him that they were going to be at the event; they asked to meet up with him. By the time he arrived and stood at the exact spot where they wanted to meet up with him, his friends were nowhere to be found.

Five minutes passed. Ten minutes passed. The sun set over the water and a cold breeze gently pushed against Jack’s left arm. The wind was getting stronger as the last rays of daylight retreated behind the curtain of ocean. Despite the cold breeze rushing in, it was surprisingly warm that night. The changing weather reminded him of his erratic water heater in his parents’ old house in Sacramento, California. He could never take a consistently warm shower and his parents – always struggling with their finances – procrastinated on fixing the water heater. Over time, he got used to the inconsistent water temperatures.

Jack shrugged off his irresponsible company and wandered around. Every time he took, he heard plastic rustling inside his pants. Sometimes he pulled his pants up and adjusted his belt to make sure that his pants were not in danger of sinking to his knees. He decided to take a break from being acutely self-aware by buying a bottle of Corona with a cup of ice and sat on a plastic chair, facing a large stage. A band was performing some cover songs from the 1960s and 70s. He listened to an electrifying cover of Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky.” He tapped his foot and attempted a drum solo with his hands slapping his knees. When the song was over, he looked at his wrinkled, vein-ridden hands. He was born the same year the single was released: 1969. He knew that time was passing by at an alarmingly quick rate.

He was willing to let his random thoughts of mortality fade temporarily into obscurity as he listened to the music. A woman sat down beside him on one of the last free seats near the stage. The woman crossed her legs and set her pocketbook on her lap. The dark green depths of her eyes caught Jack by surprise. He smiled and politely moved a few inches to give her some personal space. She smiled back at Jack, looked down at his waist momentarily and cleared her thought.

She leaned over and whispered to him, “Your diaper is showing in the back. I mean, just the waistband.”

Jack’s heart skipped. He felt numb when he should’ve felt fear. He quickly pulled the back of his pants up and tightened his belt. “It-It’s not what you think it is,” he stammered. A lie, obviously. He was caught. Or perhaps, he wanted to be.

The woman chuckled softly and shook her head. “Oh please. As someone who had to take care of two baby brothers when mom was at work, I know what a diaper looks like,” she whispered.

“Okay, you got me. Happy?” he huffed.

She sighed and looked in his eyes. “Look at you. You’re blushing. That’s so cute.”

“I am not cute!” he protested. A couple sitting in seats in front of him – a man and woman in their mid-20s – turned around to see what the commotion was about.

Jack had a chiseled face with a tasteful five o’clock shadow. If he shaved his face, he was capable of looking like a mischievous teenager. He had soft skin, few wrinkles and had good genes: handsome, but not cute, he would say. A part of him wanted to think he was wearing diapers because he wanted to stay a bouncy, young boy. Deep inside, he knew that his urinary incontinence – the ultimate feeling of hopelessness and dependence – would be the only reason for him to wear adult diapers.

“My husband thinks he’s not ‘cute.’ See? You can never take a compliment! I say, ‘You look nice today,’ and you always think I’m being sarcastic!” she said, punching Jack’s shoulder playfully.

Jack decided to play along. “Well, you know, I can never be too sure.”

When the couple lost interest in the fake married couple’s banter, Jack thanked the woman under his breath. “But do you mind if I enjoy the show?” he asked her.

“Don’t mind at all.”

Kathy was 25, and she could barely suppress her motherly instincts. She felt embarrassed for Jack, who wandered around the festival, not aware that his crinkly, diaper waistband was peeking over his pants. The wardrobe malfunction reminded her of her brothers, who – when they were toddlers – refused to wear pants. And when they wore pants, they let their pants ride to the ankles. She lovingly referred to her siblings as the “Soggy Bottom Boys” for that very reason. It was easier for her to check if they needed changing or not, at least.

During the show, Kathy looked down at Jack’s crotch, wondering if he needed a change.

Jack noticed her wandering eye. “No, no. I’m alright. I’m alright,” he said.

“Sorry. I’m Kathy, by the way.”

“Jack.” He wasn’t in the mood for small talk. It felt awkward knowing that a stranger was aware of his diaper. He wasn’t comfortable with her knowing, but he was a little excited at the same time. Someone knew his secret. Despite the awkwardness, Jack slowly regained his composure. Perhaps, somewhere in his mind, he was expecting to be caught eventually. The initial horror of being discovered subsided. He felt his heart beating normally again.

When the show was over, Jack and Kathy walked on the beach, surrounded by people – noisy tourists enamored with their smartphones, children running aimlessly through the crowds – but he felt alone. His friends deserted him. He spent his time talking to someone he didn’t know; someone who knew that he was wearing a diaper. He felt obligated, if not blackmailed, into having a conversation with her.

“Are you from around here?” Kathy asked.

“I’m from San Diego. I moved up here two years ago. My girlfriend, at the time, had family up here. She wanted to be close to home. And right after I moved up here, she broke up with me. Fortunately, I like it here so I stayed.”

“That’s turning a negative into a positive,” said Kathy. “You don’t have any family or friends in San Diego? You could move back if you wanted to, right?”

Jack shrugged. “My parents are divorced. Mom is in her 60s and she has her new life. She has her new family, new set of friends. Doesn’t want me around. Dad took my brother up to Vancouver and moved in with my uncle.”

“So you’re alone now?”

“Sure seems like it.”

As soon as he admitted to being alone, Jack tried to ignore that aspect about him. Kathy sensed that Jack was coming from a dark place, so she tried to be encouraging.

“One thing about Seattle is the fact that there’s so many groups and cliques you can be a part of. There’s a ‘scene’ for everything. With the wonders of sites like Facebook, you can network and eventually come across people who are just like you.”

“Like me?” said Jack, pointing to his chest. He laughed. “Sometimes I wonder. ‘Hey, you piss your pants? I piss my pants too! Let’s be friends!’”

“I’ll tell you one thing. There are men and women all over who, for medical reasons, have to wear diapers. I’m sure there are support groups for that sort of thing. I dated a man who wet the bed. At night, he would apologize to me before he fell asleep – that is, when we slept in the same bed together. He’d wake up the next morning wet, and I told him the same thing I said earlier: I had younger brothers who I took care of like I was their mother. To me, bedwetting is like, ‘It is what it is.’ I hated to see him agonize over it. It personally didn’t bother me.”

Jack was slowly figuring her out. “But he didn’t wear anything for it?”

“He didn’t want to. I mean, he knew he had to – but he had pride. He felt ashamed. One day, he said something to me like, ‘I don’t want you to be my mother,’ and he left me. I called him and he never called me back. It was over, just like that.”

“So I remind you of your ex?” Jack muttered. “That’s bad.”

Kathy waved her hands dismissively at Jack. “That’s not it at all! It’s just that I’m sensitive to others who have similar issues.”

“If you offered to change him, maybe he would’ve reconsidered leaving you,” said Jack.

“Maybe, maybe. But that sounds like something you would want.”

Jack went wide-eyed. He snorted. “I’m not saying.”

“You’re blushing again. Don’t be so coy!” she said, pointing at Jack.

Jack cleared his throat. “Okay, time out. How about we get to know each other a little better? Are you free for lunch tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

2 Likes

Re: Her Son

Well I’m intrigued and want to keep reading. Good start.

Re: Her Son

Yah.

Re: Her Son

That’s a fairly clever concept - at least to me. And you leave me wanting to read more, which is always nice.

Re: Her Son

A basic concept, but very well played - up to now. This enters into my checklist for future readings :slight_smile:

Re: Her Son

Kathy sat outside of Uneeda Burger in North Fremont. She leaned over the table and stared at her large cheeseburger, complete with charred peppers, onions, Gruyere cheese and a tangy mayo spread. It was so good, she almost forgot she was a vegetarian.

Jack, who sat across from her, was able to get a better look at her in the daylight. When Jack stared directly at her, Kathy’s lips trembled slightly. Her self-confidence took a nosedive for a few seconds. Little did Kathy know, Jack was admiring her. Jack never went out with a red-head before. The petite, short-haired woman pushed her black-rim eyeglasses closer to her eyes. Her breasts were tightly packed – not necessarily voluptuous, but revealing enough to put Jack in a mild trance.

“How’s your burger?” asked Jack.

“Pretty good, actually. I haven’t had one in a long, long time.”

“So that’s why you’re cutting it with a knife and a fork then?” said Jack. He took a bite from his cheeseburger and chuckled.

“Oh, hush. You can savor the flavor better this way. That’s what ma taught me,” she said.

Jack put the burger down, slapped his hands on the table and licked his lips. “Okay, so… This has been bothering me lately. I sit down and watch the band play, right? And you let me know that a part of my – let’s say – undergarment was showing. Thank you, by the way.”

“Sure thing, but --”

“But the thing is: why do you care so much? You seem to care a lot about my predicament. I honestly don’t know whether I should be grateful or concerned.”

Kathy politely wiped her lips with a napkin. “No, I totally understand where you’re coming from. I told you about my brothers and my ex-boyfriend.”

“I remember.”

“Okay. Change of plans. I’m going to just say it – and you can take it or leave it,” said Kathy as she took a break from eating to sit upright in her seat. “I always wanted to take care of someone.”

“What do you mean exactly?” asked Jack, who reached into his pants pocket to retrieve his wallet and fetch some tip money. He was intrigued.

“When I saw your ‘undergarment’ peeking out from the back, I thought, ‘Oh, poor thing.’ It wasn’t pity. I wasn’t pitying you. I had this reflex that I wanted to pull your pants up. Then you turned around, I saw your face and I imagined you in pajamas with the back-flap partially exposed, y’know? Just enough to see that you were wearing.”

Jack put his wallet back in his pocket. “Oh really?” said Jack in a low whisper. The excitement of listening to a woman exploring her fantasies – involving him – sent a warm jolt through his loins.

“Yeah. I saw you as this big baby. I thought to myself, ‘Why is this baby wearing big boy clothes? Isn’t he up past bedtime?’”

Jack almost spit out the soda he was drinking.

“I’m sorry for telling you this, but it’s hard to explain otherwise.”

Jack set the soda down. “No, no. Please don’t apologize.” His excitement was indescribable. “Actually, I should be apologizing for coming across as abrasive.”

Kathy shifted her eyes nervously. “Well, I understand why you were like that,” she said to Jack. “If a total stranger came up to me and said my Kotex pad was showing, I’d be like, ‘Mind your damn business!’ It’s just that… with me, sometimes the words don’t come out right.”

“To Hell with words,” joked Jack. “If we care so much about our words that we forget to express our feelings, what’s the point in living?”

Kathy nodded her head and approved Jack’s words. “Now I feel relieved that I can open up to you.”

Jack cackled. “Never mention ‘relief’ to a man who wears diapers 'cause invoking the word might cause a biblical flood.”

Kathy countered, “But I see a boy, not a man. I mean, you are a man, but you have that boyish look in your eyes. You’re trouble! I can tell.”

Jack placed a hand on his chest. “Me? Trouble? What are you, my mother?” He smiled.

“Maybe.”

Two days later, Jack drove to Kathy’s house, because she wanted to show him the place. On the way there, Jack couldn’t stop thinking that he was thrown into the Twilight Zone, and he couldn’t be more delighted. He crinkled around in the driver’s seat, glided down the street without a single care in the world, and imagined being part of some wild kinky experiment. He felt the burden of loneliness slowly drifting off his shoulders. Even though he had no idea what Kathy had in store for him, Jack felt that she knew him better than he knew himself. He kept thinking: I don’t have to be old, do I?

Jack found her one-story house located near Woodland Park Zoo. Kathy told him that the house was built in 1924. It was originally her grandparents’ home. Her parents moved in around 1994 after relocating from Corvallis, Oregon. The house was remodeled several times over the years to look modern on the outside with fine, well-maintained landscaping. Inside the house, however, there was antique furniture which was reminiscent of a country home found in the depths of Wyoming. The shiny, updated oak hardwood floor complimented the dusty grandfather clock beside the front door, the purple flower-pattern seats which faced the 1920s-style Victorian loveseat. Jack was taken by the open space in the living room. The fragrant scent of pine and sage filled the air.

“What a nice home,” said Jack.

“My parents kept it nice and tidy. My brothers liked it messy, but they’re living with mom and dad now, so I say to them: good luck with that.” Kathy wandered around the living room in her high heels, clicking and clacking away with unrelenting enthusiasm. “Well, here we are!”

“Aren’t you going to give me a tour?” asked Jack.

“Oh, right!”

Kathy led Jack through the spacious kitchen, which featured a breakfast nook. The small dining room was adjacent to the kitchen. Kathy zipped down the hallway, turned on the overhead lights as she stepped into the corridor and opened a door to her right.

“This is my brother, Steven’s room. Since he’s moved out, I made a few changes here and there. Let me know what you think.”

She flipped on the lights in the bedroom. Jack was shocked at what he saw. He stepped through the doorway and walked inside. “Wow. Wow. Wow,” he whispered.

There was a small, white-painted crib hugging the corner of the room. A large, fluffy teddy bear was laying on the crib bed. The bars facing the door were lowered. The dark blue-colored walls were covered with glow-in-the-dark stars and planets. It smelled like peaches, lavender and baby powder. A large, wooden dresser was located in a corner opposite of the crib. The cabinet faced a floor mirror. The room was connected to a walk-in closet that was closed off by a wooden sliding door.

“I see you prepared for my arrival,” said Jack in a convincing robotic voice.

“More like I was preparing for the son that never came home.”

Jack felt a lump in his throat. He swallowed carefully. “Wait, you mean that --”

Kathy’s tone turned somber. “Remember when I told you I dated that man? Well, I got pregnant. I didn’t have the chance to tell him because he left before I found out. I called to tell him, but he never called back. I e-mailed him. He didn’t write back. Twenty three weeks into my pregnancy, I go to the doctor for my checkup. The doctor couldn’t detect any vital signs inside the womb. The boy, that I already named Mason, was gone. God said, ‘He’s with me now.’ I cursed at God. I felt that God left me with a hole in my heart.”

Instinctively, Jack opened his arms and invited her to a hug. She took him up on his offer and embraced him. He held Kathy tight. She sniffed. “You’re a good hugger,” she said as she rested her head on his right shoulder.

“It makes sense now. I get it,” said Jack.

Jack suddenly felt a sense of responsibility. Caught in the current of her emotions, Jack felt obligated to remain calm and consistent. Of course he was disappointed that his sexual crescendo was rudely smashed into a million little pieces, but at the same time, he felt that her sadness rendered his personal feelings of loneliness irrelevant. The depths of her loneliness was unfathomable. She was truly alone in a roomy house and surrounded with insufferable silence. Having a strong, empathetic personality, Jack felt connected to her. His feet felt glued to the carpet.

“What would you like me to do?” he asked.

“Stay here for a while. Just a little,” said Kathy.

“Alright, mommy.” The word “mommy” came to Jack naturally.

Jack’s diaper was filled with stale piss and covered in yellow, and he peed again an hour after showing up at Kathy’s house. He obviously couldn’t control himself; he wished he could. He resisted telling her that his diaper was wet. He felt that if he mentioned anything, it would be exploitative of her emotions. He wasn’t sure that Kathy would actually change him. Given that his diaper was dangerously close to leaking, Jack decided to leave before any wet spots in his nice business pants appeared.

When he made the decision to leave, Jack set his cup of coffee down on the coffee table in Kathy’s living room. He looked up at Kathy, who sat across from him in one of the flower-pattern chairs, and told her, “I’m going to head out.”

Kathy snickered. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving because you’re wet.”

Jack leaned back on the loveseat and crossed his arms. “What a guess,” he snarled.

“It wasn’t a guess. I could tell. When a boy wets his diaper, he tends to sit or stand very still and look emotionless – I guess ‘frozen’ would be the best way to describe it. Just a minute ago, you were looking past me and stayed locked in position. And let’s not forget” – Kathy pointed to her nose and wiggled it – “the nose knows.”

“I don’t like to be reminded that I’m wet,” Jack complained.

“Then you need to be reminded more,” she shot back. “The baby’s wet.”

“I see you’re feeling better,” said Jack, who folded his hands behind his head. “Your cheeks are rosy again.”

“I’ll feel better if I can put you in something dry.”

Jack unleashed a smoky impression of Clint Eastwood. “Go ahead. Make my day!”

Re: Her Son

After reading this, I would like to have an interview with your characters to ask them further details about themselves. I guess this means you are building them up well.

Thanks for sharing this. Do you have other stories posted on web, somewhere else?

Re: Her Son

I do, but the stories I have posted online (so far) are sexual in nature. Very sexual. Links to my work are found in my introduction post here.

New chapters to come soon! Subscribe to this thread by clicking on “NOTIFY”!

Re: Her Son

Kathy hovered over Jack as she changed his diaper in the middle of her brother’s bedroom. She smiled. He puckered his lips and stayed perfectly still while laying on top of a towel. Here there was an attractive woman changing him, and he couldn’t believe it. He always changed himself. He was always in charge; never thought once about letting someone else indulge in performing such a personal, intimate act. It was a hard sell at first: watching each layer of manhood being peeled away slowly.

While she changed Jack, her face was that of a focused surgeon who desired perfection and nothing less. No shortcuts. She was serene and cheerful. This was the same Kathy who, only an hour ago, realized that she didn’t have any diapers for Jack to change into. She drove to a nearby pharmacy that carried Jack’s favorite diapers: Molicare Super Plus, Medium. Jack described the brand to her as “cozy” and “non-invasive.” He was open to other brands, he told her.

“So… how long have you been in diapers for?” asked Kathy as she adjusted his diaper tapes.

“I think I was about 16 or 17 when I started wearing them,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while. What happened was I hit puberty. If I got ‘aroused’ or ‘stimulated,’ I’d wet. My bladder is small, and it didn’t take much for me for my pants to get soaked. At the time I realized that I was screwed, my parents took me to the doctor. He told me, ‘Boy, you have two choices: you either suck it up, put on a diaper and wait for your condition to subside or pay thousands in corrective surgery that may or may not resolve the problem completely.’ I didn’t want surgery, especially a procedure that wasn’t guaranteed to improve my quality of life. Sadly, my condition never left me. So here I am.”

“‘Sadly’?” Kathy repeated. “If it was me, I’d rather be incontinent than broke. I’d be grateful.”

“Yeah, well… I appreciate your optimism, but when you can’t have sex because there’s a good chance you might have an accident and you can’t go to a party and have a few drinks without putting a diaper on, it’s not that great,” said Jack. “Everything feels extraneous, unnecessary. I can’t live life, hiding something that’s a part of my life.”

Kathy slowly caressed Jack’s cheek after she finished changing him. “Have you ever wanted to just not care?” she asked. She went on to elaborate. “I mean, personally, I’m comfortable with you not hiding anything. When I see you like this, with just a t-shirt and diaper on, I see someone who finally looks comfortable being in their own skin.”

“You think so?” said Jack. He slowly stood up and waddled around the room a little bit. “Oh, I wanted to say that you did a good job changing me. This feels nice. And second, you’re just really, really strange.”

Kathy laughed. “Being ‘strange’ is not a bad thing.”

“No, no. Of course not. I just never had someone else change me as an adult. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that concept.”

Kathy turned to face Jack and let out a pleasant sigh. “Have you heard of ‘adult babies’?”

Jack shook his head. “No. It sounds like a big contradiction, though.”

“I researched it out on the Internet,” Kathy said. “I wanted to know if there was any rationale for feeling the way I do about things – why I do what I do. I typed in a bunch of buzz words that piqued my curiosity and I came across information about ‘adult babies’ and diaper lovers.”

Kathy had explained to Jack that there were people who had the adult baby-diaper lover lifestyle. Sometimes people lived that way to fulfill sexual desires. Others dressed up like infants and toddlers because it was a hobby. Some had the lifestyle because it helped them achieve a state of ‘infantilism.’ She described infantilism as the choice to live or act as a young child. Jack was intrigued. He was bathing in the details – that touched on the notion of cheating adulthood – that initially seemed foreign to him. But the more she talked about it, the more interested he became. He couldn’t specify why he was interested, but he felt that everything she was saying was very relevant to his self-interests.

“Who came up with this crazy idea about infantilism?” Jack had asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. To me, it makes perfect sense,” Kathy told him. “You know how people have nostalgia and some refer to the time they were kids as the ‘good times’ or ‘the way things used to be.’ It looks like adult babies experience the same nostalgia, but they commit to literally reliving their childhood instead of relying on their memories to give them comfort. It’s more than a fetish. In my opinion, it’s a philosophy.”

“What should I do?” he quietly asked himself.

Jack stood in the middle of the room. He stared down at his diaper and then at his socks. A word kept repeating in his mind: baby, baby, baby. The idea of abandoning his adulthood – at least temporarily – was growing on him. He closed his eyes and thought about the daily pressures of his life. Like a movie, his mind played scenes from a film of his existence. It was a highlight reel of his existence.

He drove to and from work everyday. He was an insurance agent who didn’t have much of a life, but was skilled at selling life insurance. He didn’t like going to work in a suit and tie. He loathed staring at the computer, clicking on his mouse for hours as he browsed competitor rates. He sacrificed his body and spiritual well-being to his corporate masters. He watched his life drift into monotony and several menial tasks that had no productive outcome.

His friends were his ex-girlfriend’s friends. They watched him wither from the dissolution of his relationship and pitied him while supporting her. They told him that he needed to be less “needy,” and insisted the breakup was merely based on his personality flaws, not because she suddenly discovered Jesus Christ after eating a special brownie at a party they both attended. Jack’s friends kept him around mostly because of his resourcefulness: he never said no to anyone asking him for a favor.

He opened his eyes and smiled at Kathy. He decided he was going to say no to his so-called friends, say no to conformity. He was going to fight to reclaim his individuality. Baby steps forward.

Re: Her Son

Kathy hovered over Jack as she changed his diaper in the middle of her brother’s bedroom. She smiled. He puckered his lips and stayed perfectly still while laying on top of a towel. Here there was an attractive woman changing him, and he couldn’t believe it. He always changed himself. He was always in charge; never thought once about letting someone else indulge in performing such a personal, intimate act. It was a hard sell at first: watching each layer of manhood being peeled away slowly.

While she changed Jack, her face was that of a focused surgeon who desired perfection and nothing less. No shortcuts. She was serene and cheerful. This was the same Kathy who, only an hour ago, realized that she didn’t have any diapers for Jack to change into. She drove to a nearby pharmacy that carried Jack’s favorite diapers: Molicare Super Plus, Medium. Jack described the brand to her as “cozy” and “non-invasive.” He was open to other brands, he told her.

“So… how long have you been in diapers for?” asked Kathy as she adjusted his diaper tapes.

“I think I was about 16 or 17 when I started wearing them,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while. What happened was I hit puberty. If I got ‘aroused’ or ‘stimulated,’ I’d wet. My bladder is small, and it didn’t take much for me for my pants to get soaked. At the time I realized that I was screwed, my parents took me to the doctor. He told me, ‘Boy, you have two choices: you either suck it up, put on a diaper and wait for your condition to subside or pay thousands in corrective surgery that may or may not resolve the problem completely.’ I didn’t want surgery, especially a procedure that wasn’t guaranteed to improve my quality of life. Sadly, my condition never left me. So here I am.”

“‘Sadly’?” Kathy repeated. “If it was me, I’d rather be incontinent than broke. I’d be grateful.”

“Yeah, well… I appreciate your optimism, but when you can’t have sex because there’s a good chance you might have an accident and you can’t go to a party and have a few drinks without putting a diaper on, it’s not that great,” said Jack. “Everything feels extraneous, unnecessary. I can’t live life, hiding something that’s a part of my life.”

Kathy slowly caressed Jack’s cheek after she finished changing him. “Have you ever wanted to just not care?” she asked. She went on to elaborate. “I mean, personally, I’m comfortable with you not hiding anything. When I see you like this, with just a t-shirt and diaper on, I see someone who finally looks comfortable being in their own skin.”

“You think so?” said Jack. He slowly stood up and waddled around the room a little bit. “Oh, I wanted to say that you did a good job changing me. This feels nice. And second, you’re just really, really strange.”

Kathy laughed. “Being ‘strange’ is not a bad thing.”

“No, no. Of course not. I just never had someone else change me as an adult. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that concept.”

Kathy turned to face Jack and let out a pleasant sigh. “Have you heard of ‘adult babies’?”

Jack shook his head. “No. It sounds like a big contradiction, though.”

“I researched it out on the Internet,” Kathy said. “I wanted to know if there was any rationale for feeling the way I do about things – why I do what I do. I typed in a bunch of buzz words that piqued my curiosity and I came across information about ‘adult babies’ and diaper lovers.”

Kathy had explained to Jack that there were people who had the adult baby-diaper lover lifestyle. Sometimes people lived that way to fulfill sexual desires. Others dressed up like infants and toddlers because it was a hobby. Some had the lifestyle because it helped them achieve a state of ‘infantilism.’ She described infantilism as the choice to live or act as a young child. Jack was intrigued. He was bathing in the details – that touched on the notion of cheating adulthood – that initially seemed foreign to him. But the more she talked about it, the more interested he became. He couldn’t specify why he was interested, but he felt that everything she was saying was very relevant to his self-interests.

“Who came up with this crazy idea about infantilism?” Jack had asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. To me, it makes perfect sense,” Kathy told him. “You know how people have nostalgia and some refer to the time they were kids as the ‘good times’ or ‘the way things used to be.’ It looks like adult babies experience the same nostalgia, but they commit to literally reliving their childhood instead of relying on their memories to give them comfort. It’s more than a fetish. In my opinion, it’s a philosophy.”

“What should I do?” he quietly asked himself.

Jack stood in the middle of the room. He stared down at his diaper and then at his socks. A word kept repeating in his mind: baby, baby, baby. The idea of abandoning his adulthood – at least temporarily – was growing on him. He closed his eyes and thought about the daily pressures of his life. Like a movie, his mind played scenes from a film of his existence. It was a highlight reel of his existence.

He drove to and from work everyday. He was an insurance agent who didn’t have much of a life, but was skilled at selling life insurance. He didn’t like going to work in a suit and tie. He loathed staring at the computer, clicking on his mouse for hours as he browsed competitor rates. He sacrificed his body and spiritual well-being to his corporate masters. He watched his life drift into monotony and several menial tasks that had no productive outcome.

His friends were his ex-girlfriend’s friends. They watched him wither from the dissolution of his relationship and pitied him while supporting her. They told him that he needed to be less “needy,” and insisted the breakup was merely based on his personality flaws, not because she suddenly discovered Jesus Christ after eating a special brownie at a party they both attended. Jack’s friends kept him around mostly because of his resourcefulness: he never said no to anyone asking him for a favor.

He opened his eyes and smiled at Kathy. He decided he was going to say no to his so-called friends, say no to conformity. He was going to fight to reclaim his individuality. Baby steps forward.

Re: Her Son

This is a great story. Thanks for writing it.

Re: Her Son

Very good - please keep going!

Re: Her Son

There was a man shopping at Toys 'R Us. He wasn’t shopping for toys for any children he knew. He was shopping for himself. Kathy gave him a task that she hoped would help him explore his “adult baby” side: buy toys that you want to play with.

Jack looked around the store, happily browsing every aisle. The bright florescent lights above shined down, illuminating toys stocked on the shelves – showing Jack where to go. His body felt warm with child-like glee: a sensation repressed for nearly 40 years. It was a feeling that added more spring to his step. His stomach was fluttering with joy that exponentially increased every time he discovered toys he used to play from his childhood. Look at those vintage Hot Wheels cars – complete with an easy-to-assemble racetrack! Are those… G.I. Joe action figures riding in a Jeep? Jack thought: I can just sit here and play in the store all day, and my parents aren’t here to drag me away! However, Jack figured that customers and employees would be concerned with a grown man playing with children’s toys. He had to retain some adult decency.

Loud crying from a baby a few aisles over. Jack pushed his shopping cart with nearly a hundred dollars worth of toys over to the baby aisle nearby. When he reached the aisle, Jack saw an older woman – presumably a grandmother – looking at infant toys as she pushed a stroller. The crying baby was inside. She looked at Jack and smiled warmly. Jack was more interested in the toys she was looking at. She was looking at a box, which had a strange-looking toy inside. Named “Winkel,” the toy was marketed as a “loopdeloop of excitement for little baby” that “can be chewed on, sat on, squeezed, twisted, tugged and hugged.” The toy was shaped like an atom with a plush core surrounded by soft, pliable plastic loops.

“That looks like fun,” said Jack, pointing at the box.

“You think so?” said the woman. “I’m not good at buying toys for boys. I raised one girl. Now she’s grown and has blessed the Earth with a bouncy grandson. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing.” She laughed. “Maybe you can help.”

“Sure!”

“Let’s say you’re one going on two. Would you be interested in something like this?”

“Oh, absolutely!” said Jack. “Yeah, without a doubt. There’s so many things you can do with it.” Jack picked up the box and quickly scanned the features. “I’m buying this!”

She chuckled. “Well, I guess I’ll buy one too. Hope your child enjoys it.”

“I will,” he said before covering his mouth and walking away. Jack didn’t want to turn his head to see the woman’s reaction. He bit down on his lip, lowered his head and continued shopping. As he walked away, a faint crinkling noise could be heard. The woman heard it too, but her curiosity was cut short by the loud cries of her grandson.

“I wish this hearing aid didn’t work so well,” she muttered.

At checkout, Jack nearly spent two hundred dollars on various toys, which he said were going to charity. He couldn’t think of a better reason. The lie he told made him prouder of his secret. He didn’t want people to know that he was a big baby trapped in a grown man’s body. Not yet. He packed several bags of toys into his trunk and felt like a wily bandit who just returned from a successful heist, despite paying retail price for all the things he fantasized that he stole. Jack noted the irony, but he treasured his quickly-expanding imagination.

He couldn’t remember what toys he bought and how much he paid for them. The receipt was buried somewhere in his pocket. It was an irrelevant piece of paper. Did it matter? Money wasn’t an object. Just two weeks ago, Jack obsessed over his finances. Until now, he always kept his spending habits in check. Despite being conservative with his money, Jack had a decent savings account full of funds he squirreled away since he got his first job at 16. His family urged him to be less thrifty, though it’s a good trait to have. They would tell him, “Live a little,” and now he was doing just that.

Jack achieved one phase of his plan. The next phase was to pick up a few packages from his post office box and drop his new gear off at Kathy’s house.

He was so excited to show Kathy what he bought at Toys 'R Us and online.

When he pulled into Kathy’s driveway, Jack gripped the steering wheel and grinned. He was so excited, he wet himself, but he slowly stopped caring about his accidents. He opened his car door, leaped outside and bounced around to his trunk. He popped open the trunk to retrieve his things. His stomach churned and pushed from the inside. As he carried his bags to Kathy’s front door, Jack heard his stomach growl loudly with agitation. When he took everything out of his car, Jack stood by the door and knocked. The door swung open.

“Alright, come on in!” said Kathy, waving him inside.

Kathy helped turn her brother’s room into a baby room that was distinctly arranged for an adult. She moved the bed from her older brother’s room and placed into Jack’s space. Jack preferred to call the room a “space” because he had no intention to live there. He considered his room a retreat from everything he knew and everything he wanted to forget. Jack helped move the baby crib out, but he mentioned to Kathy that having a customized adult crib would be expensive. To Kathy’s surprise, Jack was open to the idea of sleeping in one.

After she helped Jack put his things away, Kathy said to him, “Alright, so from now on, I’m your mommy.”

Jack raised his finger up and was about to speak, but Kathy grabbed his hand and jerked it down lightheartedly. Jack chuckled.

“Shhhhh!” whispered Kathy. “According to a bunch of ‘adult baby’ websites that I read until four in the morning, I’m supposed to remind you that babies don’t speak like adults. I guess the idea is for you to throw everything you know away – and that includes an adult grasp of the English language.”

Jack nodded.

He thought: How am I going to tell her that I need to use the toilet? He had to poop, but he never pooped in a diaper before. His stomach cackled and groaned, but he didn’t know if Mommy Kathy would allow him to use the toilet. She has to, he figured. It’s such a mess to clean up.

Jack said, “Potty!” as he grabbed his stomach, comically rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

“Aren’t you a little too young to use the potty?” said Kathy, snickering.

“No, please. Can’t this be an exception to your rules?” he thought. He tried conveying his frustration with his eyes, but Kathy would have none of it.

“It’s alright,” she told him. “Only grown-ups use the potty.”

“I don’t think you know that I need to drop a big one,” Jack thought. He tried in vain to communicate a sense of urgency to Kathy, but she was perfectly unfazed.

Jack couldn’t keep his noisy stomach quiet. It growled loudly. He was certain about one thing: he needed to go. He reached for the back of his diaper and grabbed it. He felt the thickness and pushed the diaper toward his bottom. He paused when he heard the loud crinkling of his diaper. He moaned a little bit. He had to admit that he was aroused by the idea of being forced to not only wear diapers, but use them as well.

Jack has been been using them more frequently since he met Kathy. His urinary incontinence worsened since he’s remained in a excitable state of mind. He’s had to change diapers more often; he was always dangerously close to leaking. But soiling himself was something he never considered because he had control of his bowel movements. What would happen if he did? He could if he wanted to, of course. But what about the mess? What about the clean-up? The smell?

She said it was alright with her, Jack thought. He wasn’t imagining the circumstances. In a way, Jack wished she specifically ordered him to soil himself. That way, there would be reduced guilt. However, he liked guilt. Yes. He was aroused by it. So instead of resisting, he let himself go.

When he made the decision to mess, he bent his knees a little and tried to let it out. The most he could muster was a muffled fart from his plastic-supported rear. Perhaps he was trying too hard, Jack thought. He wasn’t sure that he really needed to go in the first place, but now that Kathy was watching him, he felt he had to do something. He squatted and sucked on his thumb. He was going to make-pretend. Perhaps that was part of the act, he thought. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to mess himself. It was merely roleplay. Who, in the right mind, would want to change an adult’s dirty diaper? Wet, sure. But the other kind?

Jack looked down at the carpet and his pants. No leaks yet. His diaper felt very warm and moist from the outside. A gentle push would likely create a wet spot around his pants crotch. When he stopped trying to mess, he started to. It came to him as a surprise. He felt his diaper droop and expand in the back. The solid mess felt a little heavy resting in the seat. He welcomed the relief, but the feeling was more euphoric than usual. It felt strangely natural to him. He thought: Why didn’t I do this before? Why does it matter if I use the toilet or not?

Kathy clasped her hands together and chuckled at the sorry sight. “Feel better now?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Now we can have bathtime! I needed an excuse to clean you.”

Jack couldn’t remember the last time he felt so free. He sat in the bathtub, surrounded by soapy bubbles. Kathy hovered over him, scrubbing her son and getting him clean. He could smell the scent of bathroom cleaning products mixed with strawberry-scented baby shampoo. Beneath the bathwater surface, Jack rubbed himself suggestively. His manhood was throbbing harder than a hangover headache. He looked around a few times at the multi-colored tiles that randomly dotted the wall. He was periodically interrupted by Kathy’s breasts brushing against the right side of his face. She looked at Jack with puckered lips and an occasional wink.

“This isn’t work to me,” said Kathy. “I’m really enjoying this.”

“I am too,” Jack admitted.

“What does it feel like to be a baby for a day?” she asked.

“I didn’t expect to like it, but I love it. Hey, can I play ‘adult’ for a minute?”

“Sure.”

“Can we have sex?”

Kathy splashed water on his face. “You’re not supposed to have sex with your mother!”

The couple burst into tears, laughing.

“Hey, I was just asking --”

Kathy put her hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’d like to, yes.” She added, “I like it sometimes when a man asks for permission – not all the time, I mean. But this is neat because I know you want me as much as I want you.”

“You’ve babied me enough. I think it’s about time I return the favor, right?”

Re: Her Son

Jack paid no attention to his infantile side when he had sex with Kathy. Here, he was a man who couldn’t contain his sexual excitement. He looked down at Kathy, who blushed and moaned as she grabbed her bed sheets. He pushed harder and harder inside. He kept thinking about how his painful loneliness was a thing of the past. He was able to be with someone who not only accepted him, but allowed him to explore a part of himself that he thought went obsolete with age. As it turned out, he was more stimulated with gratitude than his foray into infantilism. Fortunately, the gratitude was converted into blind, unadulterated lust.

Around eight in the evening, he finished and rolled over. He laid beside Kathy, catching his breath while looking at the ceiling fan overhead. He felt a little naked in bed without his diaper on, but it felt refreshing. He looked around at the maroon-colored walls, the mirror beside her bed and back at Kathy.

Browsing her end table with a free hand, Kathy found her eyeglasses and put them on. She panted, looked over at Jack and breathlessly told him, “That was good. No, better than ‘good.’ Great!”

Jack’s infantile side started haranguing him.

“I’m bored. I want to play.”

He didn’t feel like sitting in bed and making small talk, although he had no problem thanking Kathy for indulging in his pleasure. Many men experienced post-sex boredom, so Jack didn’t feel guilty about getting out of bed after a few minutes of quiet idling.

She reached out for Jack with her arm, but he quickly rolled away. “Help me up!” she said.

Jack was already in the doorway when she requested help. He turned around with his flaccid member flopping aimlessly side to side as he jogged over. “Oh, sure thing!”

“Gotta get you in your new clothes and, oh yeah, diaper,” said Kathy. “Let me just --”

“No, no. Stay right here. I’ll be back.”

Jack went into the baby’s room, laid down on the floor to diaper himself and put on some clothes. He turned to Kathy’s bedroom, dressed in a bright blue fleece onesie with teddy bears with a stainless steel poppered crotch. It felt very comfortable on Jack. Kathy’s eyes widened. She was impressed with how the onesie wrapped around Jack’s body. He really looked like a baby – a very handsome baby, that is.

“Lookin’ good, Jack!” she complimented.

“It’s hard to describe what it feels like. It’s not a shirt. It’s not pants, but I feel sorta free. I can run around, be silly and be me. Yeah, this works,” he said.

“Turn around.”

Jack twirled around daintily like a ballerina.

“Stop that!” shouted Kathy before laughing hysterically. “Oh my God! You should’ve got a pink one if you’re going to be like that.”

Shortly after showing Kathy his new onesie, Jack put on his adult clothes over it, kissed Kathy goodnight and left the house. He wanted to stay longer, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome.

He drove back home, occasional looking at the moon hovering over the cloudy skies that covered the suburban landscape. Soon he would sleep in his own bed, dressed in a onesie and dreaming about revisiting his childhood: something that once thought was long forgotten. He pulled the blanket over him as he turned from side to side. He had a large, run-of-the-mill brown teddy bear that kept him company. He supposed that he was never going back to the life he had before as Jack Kennedy, the tired and lonely life insurance salesman. He was now Jacky, but he didn’t mind pretending to be the sorry sap he once was.

The morning found Jack sitting at his work cubicle with a headset, dressed in his formal white dress shirt, red tie, and black pants. He had a cubicle that wrapped around him like a very organized and tidy gray snake. If he was given the promotion that he was promised by the manager four months ago, Jack would be able to work from home and not have to drive through chaotic early morning traffic. He wanted nothing more than to stay at home and let Jacky play. Despite feeling scorned by his employer, Jack maintained his mellow composure and continued working gracefully. No complaints. Not even one low-toned utterance of profanity.

Suddenly, his co-worker – who shared a cubicle wall with Jack – swung his chair out into the outside aisle and moved it toward Jack’s space.

“Good morning!” said his co-worker.

“Good morning, Chris,” Jack calmly replied.

“Did you catch the Mariners game last night?”

Jack shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. How did they do?”

Chris gritted his teeth and swung his chair around. “They got crushed! Nine to nothing!” he growled. “Seriously, man. Miller was the only guy who got hits on their entire team. He got two hits. Both times they were doubles. Then Seager comes up after him. Pop-up fly. Out. Second at-bat. Double play. Oakland shut 'em out.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t go to the game.”

Chris moved back to his cubicle and returned with crumpled ticket stubs. “I would’ve left sooner, but my partner was all, ‘Hun, maybe they might come back! Have faith!’ and it’s like, ‘How can you have faith when the pitcher is freakin’ LaFromboise.’”

“Ouch.”

“I’m telling you. I could’ve beat rush hour traffic, have a nice dinner out and pretend that last night’s game never happened – but guess what? Adrian wanted to have a little ‘faith,’” Chris ranted. “Gay men don’t know jack about baseball.”

“But you’re --”

“I happened to be raised by two lifelong Mariners fans, okay? I am the exception, girlfriend.” Chris snapped his fingers three times at Jack.

“Get back to work,” Jack snarled. He smiled once Chris turned his back and headed back to his cubicle.

“Oh-oh-oh!” exclaimed Chris from his cubicle. “Sorry about missing you at the festival last week.”

Jack shook his head. “No problem.”

For awhile, Jack drifted into a series of daydreams. He dreamed that he was sitting at his office in his blue onesie, sucking on a big yellow pacifier. Instead of working, Jack just crawled around the office while his co-workers complimented him for being “cute.” Maybe he’ll gnaw on the telephone. Maybe he’ll press a bunch of buttons on a large screen and not care what happens next. If his diaper was a little soggy, it wouldn’t be a problem. But who would change him?

Jack learned to daydream while working on his tasks and checking his Facebook once in a while. He noticed that he got a new friend request from Kathy. Kathy’s profile photo showed her with an unknown, well-groomed man’s arm wrapped around her shoulder. She smiled wryly at the camera with her head tilted slightly and hair shifted to the side. He clicked on the “Confirm” button enthusiastically. After adding her to his Friends List, Jack browsed through her photos and kept thinking to himself, “I can’t believe she’s with me.” He was honored.

His manager passed by his cubicle. He closed his browser window, obscuring Facebook, and pretended to work diligently. He couldn’t help but make eye contact with the manager’s beergut as he passed by, but it was better than ogling at photos of a pretty lady on Facebook. Eventually, Jack went back to work. Meanwhile, he received a message from Kathy that was posted on his very public Facebook profile.

The message was, “Surprise Party for Jack - 7:30 PM tonight! Bring baby gifts!”

Re: Her Son

Every other afternoon, Jack drove to Kathy’s house. When the skies were clear, bright and blue, Jack opened his sunroof so he could look up once in a while while stopped at a red light. He would sit in his car with his work clothes on top of his onesie and diaper. Sometimes he turned on the radio and listened to some classic rock music. When one of his favorite songs would come on – “Bohemian Rhapsody,” for instance – he would roll the windows up and sing to his heart’s content. And then he would leave his adulthood behind for the rest of the day.

Little did he know that a surprise party was being planned for him that day, Jack arrived at Kathy’s on time. His eyes were bloodshot from hours of mindless computing and staring into nothingness. He wanted to sit in his room, play with his toys and roll around in his blanket for several hours, but Jack knew he needed to perform a few chores.

Taking care of a big baby was a lot of work for Kathy. In return for being his “mommy,” Jack was asked to perform chores around the house. He didn’t fight his obligations. Instead, he happily committed to them. Jack vacuumed the house, washed the dishes, did the laundry and cleaned. He didn’t mind accepting some responsibility. As long as he can roam the house in his onesie or just a plain t-shirt and diaper, Jack was comfortable with his tasks.

As a result of being a good boy for her, Jack was treated to a backyard camping adventure. Kathy helped Jack in pitching her father’s 8-person tent. It only took a minute to set up since the tent’s poles came pre-attached to the tent itself. Her father was an avid camper until he started experiencing sharp pain in his knees; he always knew of the best equipment to take with him on trips. Jack wasn’t much of a camper, but something about playing inside a tent with a roomy interior, his blanket and toys – during a gentle rainfall – appealed to him.

Of course Jack didn’t question why Kathy wanted him to play outside. Since she went through the effort of setting him up so he was nice and cozy, Jack was comfortable enough to not ask any questions or suspect anything out of the ordinary. He juggled a couple of plastic, squeaky toys inside the tent and happily rolled around in his fleece onesie. When he got bored with that, Jack wrapped himself in a blanket with his teddy bear and looked outside.

In the hours since Jack was led outside to her backyard, Kathy invited several people to her home – friends, co-workers, acquaintences, some of Jack’s close friends. Kathy told them that she was Jack’s girlfriend, and that the newly minted couple adopted a baby who, she said, “was a little large, but cute as a button.”

The guests brought an assortment of baby gifts. Little did they know that the bundle of joy they were expecting to see was a grown man. Some of the guests were surprised, though, at the fact that Jack made no mention of having a girlfriend or adopting a child. Ironically, Jack’s friends told Kathy that they couldn’t envision their friend as a father.

“He didn’t like kids much,” one of Jack’s friends told her. “He always told me, ‘Frank, stay away from family restaurants. Parents let their little, screaming bastards run around the place.’” Jack’s friend also mentioned how Jack once suggested – hopefully joking – that he always wanted to “put a bunch of noisy children in a burlap sack and drop them off at McDonalds.”

Guests were helping themselves to wine, beer, and a variety of meat and cheese platters. Though nearly a dozen people showed up on short notice for her party, Kathy considered the event a success. She could barely contain the secret she was hiding from everyone. While she talked to guests, she randomly giggled. When they asked her why she giggled, Kathy bit her lip and shook her head. Once in a while, she dismissed her giggling as “remembering a joke that I heard when I was at work.” Between conversations, which involved a lot of lies and deception told by her, Kathy looked out the window of her kitchen and kept an eye on the tent in the backyard.

Jack could’ve swore he heard a series of car doors slamming. He didn’t once suspect that several people were inside Kathy’s house, waiting to see the new baby. He rested comfortably with his teddy bear beside him. His eyes were closed. He often squeezed his sodden diaper, which was packed comfortably within his onesie. He liked how the diaper stayed firmly in place, even after wetting. He could feel his heart beating while he listened to the birds chirping happily from nearby trees. He was getting a little cold, though. His face felt frosty.

The rain lightened up enough for Jack to leave the tent. He walked barefoot in the grass and slowly approached the back door. Kathy could see him coming. She told everyone to lower their voices as she turned off the lights in the house. The guests stood silently in place and watched the back doorknob jiggle and turn. When he opened the door, Jack was greeted with almost complete darkness. Suddenly, the lights turned on.

“Surprise! Congratulations!”

All Jack could see was several eyes staring at him. He recognized half of the faces in the house. All smiles and cheers suddenly vanished. Instead, there was shock. Ladies covered their mouths and closed their eyes in disbelief. The men were left slack-jawed, confused and petrified. Everyone in the room saw Jack dressed like an infant in a blue onesie. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Similarly, Jack couldn’t believe that he was exposed.

Blood rushed from his face. He turned pale white. He felt numb and completely devoid of words. He looked around the room, trembling. The pupils in Jack’s eyes moved frantically from left to right, right to left. He thought: I’m done. It’s over. Jack looked down at his feet the moment he felt his diaper getting warm again. He was peeing out of absolute fear. He felt a steady stream of urine run down his leg and smack the hardwood floor below him. A small puddle formed. Tears welled in his eyes as he helplessly relieved himself in front of a small crowd.

Jack was sincerely scared.

He sped to the baby room nearby and closed the door behind him. Kathy followed him. Resenting Kathy for her humiliation ploy, Jack slammed the door on her. She raised her hands in the air apologetically and pressed against the door.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said. “I thought you might like it.”

“What?” Jack shouted. “You think I like friends and strangers watching me pee on the floor?”

Oddly enough, deep down inside, Jack was aroused.

“That’s really messed up, Kathy. Messed up…” shouted Jack as he hurriedly undressed himself, cast his wet diaper aside and put on his adult clothes.

When he left the baby room dressed in his regular clothes, Jack was confronted by a few people who stood outside with Kathy. This time, the group was laughing and pointing at him.

“There’s the prankster!” said one of the guests.

“I couldn’t believe you and Kathy were so elaborate in setting this up,” said another.

Kathy seemed amused by the lie she told to the guests. She told them that it was a cleverly concocted joke: the surprise wasn’t the baby, but it was Jack himself! Plot twist. Kathy anxiously unveiled the sinister plot to everyone. Some were understandably unimpressed, so they left the party earlier. Fortunately, those who left with Kathy’s associates, and they were already aware of how wily she could be. Kathy successful spun the recent turn of events as an elaborate hoax, not an experiment to test Jake’s sexual boundaries and embarrassment levels. The plan, Kathy explained, was to showcase their unique sense of humor.

This is the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me: Jack thought.

Jack’s stomach turned. He wandered into the living room, scratching the back of his head nervously. People paused a few seconds before approaching Jack. He had to lie to everyone. All of them. Was it really necessary? Jack considered himself a truthful man. He almost wished he stayed in that wet onesie and told people, “Yeah, I’m a baby. I’m out of the toybox now.”

“Seriously, you had us worried there,” said his co-worker Chris. “I was thinking you completely lost your marbles.”

“No, but --”

Jack paused and sighed.

“Are you alright?” asked Chris.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“So how did you meet Kathy? She’s an interesting catch, I’d say.”

Jack laughed as he recalled the night they met. He laughed because he recognized the need to censor – or sanitize, rather – the absurdity. Of course he wasn’t going to tell people that Kathy told him that part of his diaper was exposed. Fortunately, the onesie obscured the wet diaper he was wearing, so he told people that he was “waiting outside in the rain for a while,” hence the puddle. If anyone looked a little closer to see that the puddle was indeed yellow, Jack wouldn’t be able to defend himself.

Chris offered Jack a sympathetic smile and whispered, “You’re a kinky son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you?” to Jack.

Jack blinked and tried averting his eyes from Chris’ cold gaze. He knew. “I’m not, really. I mean, I’m not good at it.”

“She’s new to the whole ‘mommy’ thing, isn’t she?” Thank God that someone understood where Jack was coming from. Problem was: how did he know so much about it?

“I don’t know, but what happened was --”

“Erotic humiliation.”

That’s it! “Let’s talk about this where other people can’t hear us,” Jack suggested.

“Oh, sure sure.”

Jack chose to continue his discussion in Kathy’s bedroom. Jack sat down on Kathy’s bed and lowered his head. He looked down at the carpet floor and sighed. Chris closed the door.

Chris had short, spiky brown hair with blonde highlights. He had a small silver earring on his right ear and had soft blue eyes. He was tall, good-looking and dressed very casually. He was in his mid-30s, but embraced his age gracefully. He had neatly trimmed sideburns, which added some masculinity to his Adonis-like complexion. Jack lovingly referred to Chris as his “token gay friend.”

“Surprise, surprise. I know a thing or two about bondage,” Chris admitted. “Perverts have this uncanny ability to read between the lines and detect undertones that aren’t readily apparent to commonfolk.”

“So tell me about this ‘erotic humiliation.’ Sorry, I’m totally clueless about this stuff,” said Jack.

“Sure. Basically, as I understand it, erotic humiliation is when your partner asserts psychological control over you and attempts to put you in a compromising position. In this case, public humiliation. When I saw her post on Facebook about the event, asking people to bring ‘baby gifts’ and then seeing you in those toddler pajamas or whatever, I knew that there was some mommy-baby roleplaying going on.”

“Wait a second. She posted this on Facebook? Where?”

“On your wall, and then she sent invites to your friends, apparently. You really had no idea that she was doing this, did you?”

Jack shook his head.

Chris crossed his arms. “Well well well… This is right out of some 1980s S&M porno. People talk about it, think about it and get off, but how many times can you say it’s actually happened in real life, and it was successfully pulled off? She really, really went out of her way for you.”

“And I should be thankful?” Jack asked.

“Don’t know. Did you get hard from it or not? If you did, she did her job well. Personally, if I was, say, ‘daddy’ and you were my boy, I’d probably give you a warning first.”

It was true. Jack was aroused by the experience. The more he reflected on his public humiliation, the more aroused he became. Surely he was terrified, but the terror intensified his sexual tension. At first, when he angrily changed out of his onesie, Jack was in denial that he was aroused because, to him, it didn’t make any sense. Then again, he wasn’t familiar with sexual foreplay and bondage practices. Jack was so content with playing the baby and committing himself to an infantile mindset, he ignored the other facets of that roleplay. He knew he had to do more research about it on his own, and continue to unravel the complexities of his sexuality.

“You really are a pervert,” said Jack with a chuckle.

Chris shrugged. “Hey, this is the birds and the bees, man. As we get older: the birds start to don a leather harness and crack a whip. And the bees? Don’t get me started on the bees.”

Jack laughed. “I feel better. Thanks.”

Chris looked at Jack in the eyes, got down on one knee and brushed his hair. “No problem. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t think you were cute,” said Chris. “I lose it when you blush, you know.”

Jack cleared his throat. “I like women, Chris.” Jack couldn’t resist smiling at that.

Chris patted Jack on the shoulder once. “Bah humbug!” said Chris as he stood back up and walked out of the bedroom.

It was a very strange day, but Jack was grateful that he had someone to talk to.

Re: Her Son

First off, let me just say that this is very well written. I always find it easier to develop two main characters at first before introducing others and this story is great confirmation for that theory. When you introduce Jack, you give him personality and give him things to do that make him seem human and real.

I mean, I know the sting of being invited somewhere, changing my plans for said invite and then not having the jerks follow through with their end of the invite. It’s particularly annoying in this day and age when there’s no excuse for not being able to communicate with someone, but I digress.

“When the song was over, he looked at his wrinkled, vein-ridden hands. He was born the same year the single was released: 1969. He knew that time was passing by at an alarmingly quick rate.”

This a great example of showing and not telling. You’re not telling the reader how old Jack is, you’re showing it by describing his hand and his own feelings towards getting older. And you’re very consistent in the story, which is what makes his desire to be “younger” and cared for all the more believable. The feelings of abandonment and the sense that his family has deserted him, even though he keeps a strong front are real and relatable.

The way you introduce Kathy is smooth and fluid. Though I was a little reluctant to believe that someone would come right out and mention the diaper thing so soon, you did a good job developing her and showing us her backstory in a way that made this seem like someone who is very forward with her feelings.

These are both equally lonely people who have similar feelings and have actually found one another. Though the story is mostly from Jack’s point of view, Kathy stands out just as well with how she is more “schooled” in the ways of the Internet, as opposed to Jack who makes passive observations about people’s smartphones.

The first chapter has a few minor things that I would like to just point out. The rest of the story is great and I’m not sure, but I’m guessing you either wrote this for another site previously or you’re writing as you go along. In either case you get better with each chapter.

1960s and 70s.

This is just a personal observation, you could take it or leave it. But I think you could just say '60’s and '70’s. True the story might be read by people in the future who think, “Does he mean the 1960’s or 2060’s”, but like I said, that’s just my opinion and it’s not necessarily something you have to change for the sake of the story.

The changing weather reminded him of his erratic water heater in my parents’ old house in Sacramento, California.

This and this one here,

“That’s turning a negative into a position,” said Kathy.

The first line was just a small slip. In the second, I think you might have meant “turn a negative into a positive”, but I could be wrong.

Re: Her Son

You’re not wrong. I make typos, and when you write stories as long as these, typos are bound to happen. Thank you for pointing them out to me!

I wrote this story about a year ago and continued writing new chapters recently after the first chapter got about 1,000 views after only a few days.

Thank you for your wonderful feedback, Nate!

Re: Her Son

I have to say I really enjoying your story so far ;D,and it good to see a fellow “cub” on here as well

Re: Her Son

Kathy looked away from Jack when he spoke to her. All the guests left. Jack was still trying to come to terms with what happened that night. He took a breath and rubbed his head. He was experiencing a headache: a byproduct of his frustrations. He stood in Kathy’s living room, trying to unravel all the thoughts going through his chaotic mind.

“I screwed up, I know,” said Kathy. “I’m sorry.”

“My friends were there, Kathy,” Jack moaned.

“Yeah, but I was trying to --”

“Don’t. I know what you were trying to do.”

Kathy swallowed nervously. “You knew?”

Jack’s headache was getting worse. He felt his head throbbing. When he looked at Kathy, Jack’s tension increased. He rested his eyes on the wall behind her. He had better luck reasoning with her shadow that wrapped around the room because of the dim lighting overhead.

“It’s just that you should give me a heads up first,” said Jack as he sat down on her loveseat.

“But doesn’t that break the illusion?” she asked.

“Kathy, no. It doesn’t.”

Kathy started to clean up the house. It was strange. For a couple of hours after the party, Jack imagined being married to Kathy. It was an Academy Award-winning plot: Husband and wife are looking to rekindle their love life by putting themselves in sexually awkward situations. It’s a comedy, but not to the married men in the theaters watching the film. Unlike being trapped in a lukewarm relationship, Jack loved Kathy. What she did to him was odd and unexpected, but her spontaneity – and her willingness to please him by extraordinary means – left him with an irresistible warmth in his chest. In his mind, Kathy not only accepted him; she embraced his acceptance and aligned her sexuality with his own.

Nevertheless, Jack spoke to her very little as he helped clean the house with her. He mopped up his urinary contribution to the hardwood floor and removed any evidence that the hoax they purported was actually real. His headache began to fade. His blooming appreciation for Kathy was an easier pill for him to swallow than aspirin. Appreciating Kathy made him feel more infantile and more beholden to her, though he wanted at least some control of how he’s humiliated in public.

The transition from confusion and anger to love and kindness was surprisingly smooth that night.

Jack began craving sleep. He decided to sleep in the baby’s room with a diaper on. It was a little cold inside the room, but his one onesie was particularly wet and he didn’t feel like sleeping in his adult clothes. He wrapped the bed blanket around him and quickly fell asleep, sucking his thumb.

At work the next day, Jack sat in his cubicle, staring at the computer screen. He held his finger down on one letter of the keyboard. Zzzzzzzzzzz. He wanted a few more hours to sleep in that morning, but he wanted to be more productive with his time than sitting outside somewhere in a tent, not knowing anything. He looked at Chris as he passed by the cubicle. Chris looked back at Jack, smiled and nodded slowly. Another secret to keep. He didn’t want any more secrets. Technically, secrets helped add to the suspense, but he preferred to keep his co-workers from knowing the intimate details.

His love-hate relationship with secrecy started with his father.

Jack’s father had an affair. Het met a younger woman named Clarissa at a bar, which was conveniently located across the street from his office.

He was tired of being the responsible father that everyone leaned on. He was tired of being the husband who came home every day to a wife who expected him to always be there for her. Every day. She was needy, clingy and cried just as loud, if not louder, than his only child Jack. He wanted to be in love again with someone who lived like there was no tomorrow – not “till death do us part.” He loved Jack dearly, but he envied his toddler son’s predisposition to limitless euphoria.

Around the time he met Clarissa, Jack’s father reached the top of the corporate ladder as a marketing executive at an ad agency in Roseville. He wasn’t the type of executive that sat around at the conference table, smoking a big cigar and complaining about their wives. He often sat in his office, crafting proposals that his firm’s clients typically adored. When he was finished with important tasks, Jack’s father pretended to be busy by shuffling papers, but he was secretly admiring his son’s randomly inspired crayon doodles. In reality, he was one of the most productive employees in the office.

He met Clarissa one evening after clocking out of work. He sat at the bar and downed a pair of whiskey shots. He noticed a young woman, who kept looking at him and smiling. Out of kindness, he offered her a drink and they started talking about that. Around the time she met Jack’s father, Clarissa graduated from college, but she loathed the fact that she was still a virgin. In her drunken stupor, Clarissa said that she was looking for an older man to show her “what pleasure feels like.”

Jack’s father reluctantly agreed to show her. So every Friday evening, Jack’s father took Clarissa to a motel nearby and had sex. Every week, a new position. A new climax. A new woman. When he came home from work later that evening (he told his wife that he had to “work late”), he was content. He had something to look forward to. Young Jack appreciated his father’s enthusiasm and gravitated to him like a firefly to a flame. However, Jack noticed that his father often came home in a cold sweat. His wife didn’t seem to notice.

Finally, out of guilt, Jack’s father told her his secret. He told her one night when they were laying in bed together, watching television. While his wife was shouting at him for his marital betrayal, Jack’s father calmly explained to her that it was a loveless affair. It was merely sexual, and nothing more. He was telling the truth. He loved his wife dearly, but he wanted to explore a little more – just another bite of the bachelor apple.

Her yelling woke up Jack, who rolled out of bed and hazily wandered down the hallway to his parents’ bedroom. All he could hear was yelling and his mother repeatedly asking his father, “Why did you keep that a secret from me?” Jack started to cry and tremble as he walked closer to his parents’ bedroom door. By the time he was at the door, Jack tripped and fell with a loud thud. His parents ran out of the bedroom to see their son face down on the carpet, crying hysterically. He wasn’t physically hurt, but emotionally he was torn. From that day forward, Jack hated secrets. He hated the word “secret.”

However, after the secret about his father’s affair was revealed, Jack noticed his father acting more somber. He wasn’t jovial like before. When he came home from work, Jack’s father walked past his son as if he didn’t exist. Jack felt invisible and unwanted. By the time he was in first grade, Jack’s father began to pay more attention to him. For a young child, it was excruciatingly painful to bear witness to the deception and depression that his parents embodied. And it was all because of sex.

Jack wanted to love Kathy as a girlfriend more than as a “mommy.” He didn’t want to love her for the sexual roleplay. Yet he loved Kathy for unveiling a side of himself that he never thought existed before. He feared that he was pretending to love Kathy for her acceptance of his infantile pursuits. When he ultimately forgave Kathy for humiliating him in front of friends, co-workers and strangers, Jack couldn’t believe how quickly he forgave her. His personal and professional reputation was in jeopardy that night – and he accepted her apology shortly after it happened.

Maybe he actually didn’t care at all. The humiliation did arouse him. Chris was right. Jack never once told Kathy that he was aroused by being exposed, helpless and hopeless. He couldn’t reasonably explain why, except that he liked how Kathy stripped him of his dignity and adulthood. The humiliation was a form of control that kept him bound without chains. He sometimes wondered about the extent of his satisfaction as it’s derived from personal shame. When he wet his diaper in front of the house guests that night, he wet not only because he was afraid. He was horny, but he couldn’t understand why.

With the events of the surprise party playing over and over again in his mind, Jack made sure he had sex with Kathy when he had free time. He became more aggressive, demanding one rampaging orgasm after another. Kathy could barely keep up with him, but the sharp thrusts inside left her crying out for more. It was tempting to tell Jack, “No, not now,” but she knew that she was pressing all the right buttons. She had to expect his overflowing lust. The thing was, Kathy felt more comfortable playing “mommy.”

But she recognized Jack as being a good lover, regardless of the role she preferred to play. The sex was plentiful, raw and involved little or no romantic prelude, but Kathy didn’t humiliate Jack for that payday. Instead, she truly wanted someone to take care of. She wanted to be proud of being the mother that she biologically couldn’t be before. She admitted to embarrassing Jack as part of an elaborate “erotic humiliation” stunt, but that admission was not indicative of her true feelings. She took responsibility for it under the guise of erotic foreplay because it was the most plausible explanation for her actions.

Jack and Kathy were two conflicted lovebirds, unsure of the future. They both understood that it would take a while to figure themselves out. All that they knew was this: If the relationship were to persevere, they would have to test their limits.