The Real Harmony

(Maybe this doesn’t go here because it’s going to be a true story?) Prologue

My name is Harmony. I mean, obviously it’s not. It’s a username. It’s not even one I liked, but it’s one I stuck with because I had to enter something to make an account here and it felt “on brand.” But it’s not me. I have nothing in common with harmony. No one here has ever known the real me.

Until now.

Other than names, places, and a few little details to protect the innocent and fill in memory gaps, everything I am about to tell you is completely true. And this isn’t like that time I posted a Go Ask Alice parody that only lasted two chapters. This is honest to go the truth.

This is the real Harmony.

Someone once dropped some pronouns in a comment on a Harmony Hills story and I jockingly called them out. That’s when it became apparent that I had never revealed a single personal detail about myself, despite being the author of a story that was fairly popular at the time.

This wasn’t on purpose, I just wasn’t hear to make friends. I was here to tell a story that hit a tropes I don’t usually see in diaper stories and tell it in a sorta deconstructed way. Or not, I don’t really know. I started this when I was in college and probably thought it was smarter than it was. But it’s just a bunch of fourth graders peeing themselves and stuff. I guess I told a decent romance and handled killing a character well? Pretty sure what I did to Nicole was complete bullshit but I was kinda going for an intentionally absurd bit there.

I’m not going to go into my dark origins or anything like that. It’s not the story I want to tell. If you’ve read Harmony Hills then the character of Penny, a neighborhood girl who still had several accidents while playing on summer days and wore Pull-Ups even to kindergarten, was 100% based on a real person I knew growing up. Several of those flashback scenes are word for word from my childhood.

But again, that’s not the story I want to tell.

Despite my knack for writing the diaper adventures of elementry school girls, this isn’t going to be one of those stories. And this isn’t the story about how I came into myself and started making diapers out of paper towels and plastic bags in high school. Or how I finally got ahold of Goodnites in college and wore them practically every night. Thank god my sophmore year roommate never showered because I was able to get away with a lot around him and still come across normal around my other roommates.

This isn’t even a story about how I finally found love and married a woman even after revealing my whole secret to her and having her read some of Harmony Hills.

This is a story about two members of her family, and their own personal Harmony Hills adventures. But while I said this isn’t my own dark origin story, that doesn’t mean it isn’t dark.

At least I’m not sure if it’s dark or not. If I honestly thought it was some fucked up shit I probably wouldn’t write it. I’m not trying to shock you or scare you or air my dirty laundry. I just want to put all the facts out there so I can comfortably ask you all one question.

Am I a bad person?

Chapter 1
Me and Her

To get the important facts out of the way: I am a male and in a loving relationship with a female and a few rings. Although I’m only a male by default. Whenever I hear the things that “men” do or things that define being a “male” I am just as offended as the women. I don’t want to be lumped in with that group. I don’t want to be that kind of man. But I also don’t feel like a woman and I could never get used to they/them pronouns. Maybe I am nonbianry? Fuck I’ve never actually typed that out. But other than not liking the word “male” I don’t really have other gender issues. Except that time I dreamed I was a public crossdresser and it was all anyone in school could talk about and for a few days after that dream I was in a bad mood because it wasn’t true. Other than that I’m totes cis male. Maybe bisexual too. That I am technically out but not blaring for the world I just had one crush on a YouTuber in college and then discovered some hot Asian social media boys. But I’ve never even held a man’s hand. Didn’t even think about this stuff until I was already with my current wife. She’s also Asian. Fuck this is the worst paragraph I have ever written. Did I mention I am a trained professional writer? So that’s another fun fact about me.

So diapers.

Coming out to my wife was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. She was my first and as a 23 year old college senior virgin all I wanted to do was get in there. But I kept pulling away. Pulling back… And then pulling out.

We wanted to get married. There were several “I thought we’d be engaged by now” moments from her. But I couldn’t do it until she knew the real me.

She knew I was keeping a secret. She knew it was sorta a fetish. She knew I was waiting until I knew she would accept me for who I am before committing to life together.

She thought I was a furry.

When the night finally came I waited until the busses stopped running so she’d have no choice but to sleepover afterward. Not to hold her hostage, but because I knew we needed to talk.

It agonized me and I basically rolled around in bed for like 2 hours being 99% ready to say it and then stopping. By the way the busses here stop running at like 1AM so it was late as fuck.

I couldn’t get the words out, so I wrote it down on a piece of paper and just handed it to her.

She didn’t dump me right away. Hasn’t dumped me yet. But she was confused and just wanted me to explain more now that it was out.

I told her about my Penny. I told her about my childhood and constantly trying to catch episodes of cartoons with diapers or wetting accidents in them. I told her about staring at kids that I just knew had to be wearing diapers but probably just had big butts. I didn’t know how to spot a bulge back then.

Things started getting gross and too much too fast, but I assured her about one thing. It wasn’t about sex. And that was true. At least at the time it wasn’t.

Not only was i a virgin with a B.F.A., I swear to God with a capital G that I had never masterbated before. I’ve read a billion diaper stories, watched diaper videos, read diaper manga. Probably got a huge erection every time.

But it wasn’t until we started having sex where I was like, “Oh this is what people do when they read Harmony Hills? Well. Good for them.”

I’m just going to fast forward a bit here. Again, this isn’t the story I want to tell. This is just the essential backstory. Probably too much information but I already wrote it so what the hell?

Based on my marital status you’ll know we didn’t break up and are happily married. By this point she is fine with me wearing around her and even being wet around her. She does ask, “Why are you wearing a diaper?” like every single time and I just look at her like she’s a moron and say, “Because it feels good?”

Anyway I’m fat now and can’t really wear Goodnites and anything bigger sucks so I haven’t really worn anything in forever. Plus I had a yeast infection last year and now I’m afraid of any kind of moisture anywhere near my groin. And the clean up isn’t that fun.

Diapers just aren’t fun for me these days. This is all part of why It took me so long to finish Harmony Hills and why all my subsequent projects fizzled out. It’s a real shame. I have big ideas for St. Harmony’s and the third Harmony series that’ll probably never happen.

So I’m married to a woman who knows I like diapers. No story there, honestly.

But the real story? That’s not about me or my wife. It’s about her little brother. She’s in the story, and so am I. But I’m not the hero. Actually, I think I’m the villain.

Chapter 2

A Boy Called Jack

Okay I was in a real mood when I wrote that last bit you all probably think this story was going somewhere you probably don’t want it to go. Since I spoiled my coming out to my girlfriend by introducing her as my current wife left me just say that my current brother in law is fine.

When I wrote the stuff before this I probably thought this was some moody and dark story. I certainly thought I was a “villain” too.

But as I started preparing my thoughts and getting my memories in order, I realize this isn’t a dark or sad story.

This story is hilarious. Sorry if you were expected some IRL diaper horror.

I might still technically be a villain. But the way Willy Wonka is a villain. It’s fun and there’s singing and dancing and candy and the kids sorta die but they’re okay. Except the new musical version on Broadway those kids die for real. It’s great.

So yeah. My wife has a little brother. I guess I should do the “names have been changed” thing here now? Let’s call my wife Kristina. And her little brother’s name shall be Jack.

When I met Kristina, her brother was three. When I met him, he was four. That was like our third date and then we took him trick or treating together and I met her whole family and after that I was like, “We’ve been dating for like 2 months I think diving right into your family drama was kinda too much too soon.” So I didn’t really see Jack again until he was like 6 or so.

Before I came out to Kristina, I would occasionally bring up ABDL related topics about her brother. I mean come on he was little there had to be something. And he was the first kid I’d spent any time with in like ten years.

But there really wasn’t anything there. Mainly because I was being coy in my closet and didn’t want to jump out and ask, “When was the last time your brother wet the bed?”

Did I mention Kristina’s and Jack’s parents are kind of a mess and she basically raised him? That’s generally important. I mean sometimes she says she potty trained him and sometimes she says it was her mother. So I don’t know.

After my coming out, Kristina wasn’t really against my occasional prying. But she doesn’t really observe things in the way someone with ABDL eyes does. “Yeah he has a night terrors a lot and sometimes he pees. Like last time he had a night terror… there was pee.”

Honestly I stopped asking for details because it was kinda boring.I did learn that no one in her large family had ever worn Pull-Ups. Her mom thinks they’re a waste of time.

As our relationship bloomed and I started spending time with Kristina’s family again, Jack got older and decided that he wanted to come over to my apartment. It’s not exactly a kid friendly place. It’s a small one bedroom with some video games and a park of sorts across the street, but it’s nothing special. He’d come over and we’d order pizza and watch TV. We could do that at her house so why bother?

Eventually we got put in a situation where he had to come over. When I say he has to come over, it is usually because of some bullshit thing his mom does, like running away for a weekend when he has no one to watch him.

The autumn that he was seven, Jack was signed up for a intramural soccer league on Saturdays in our neighborhood. She’d pretty much moved in that autumn so it was our neighborhood.

Kristina was a coach in the league. She had a meeting before their first day so we all rode the bus from Jack’s house and she got off a few stops early and headed toward the league headquarters or whatever. I took Jack to our place.

Yeah. The first time Jack came over, it was just me and him.

Guys I actually kinda hate kids. Or at least I’m nervous around them. All the teachers at school back when I was in 8th grade thought I was great with kids and that I should be a teacher one day. They were all so impressed with how I helped out the kindergarten teacher in the mornings and stayed in after care and played so well with all the kids.

Hey, teachers: I was just a budding diaper lover hoping I could see someone wet their pants if I stuck around long enough.

That first day with Jack was weird. We had like two hours to kill so we played video games which does in fact kill a lot of time. Did I mention this kid is addicted to video games? A lot of kids his generation are “addicted” but holy fuck.

But yeah. Awkward. I texted Kristina because it was almost lunch time and wasn’t sure if he was getting fed at soccer. She said I had to feed him. When was she going to tell me that? I luckily had a stupid pizza I could make him. None for me though so I had to get him something when I dropped him off.

That was weird too. The whole thing. It was just weird. Do I hold his hand when we’re crossing the street? Does he need a water bottle?

And as much as I want to see every human being in the universe wet their pants all the time always, I was actually terrified of that happening. How the hell do I handle that situation? Did he go before we left his house? Is he too old for me to ask if he was to go?

When we got to the soccer registration they asked for his name. I gave them his first name and they asked for his last name. I honestly didn’t know what it was. Was it the same as Kristina’s? They have different fathers so maybe not?

It was ALL weird.

After that I think Kristina took him home.

Because soccer was every week and in our neighborhood, he finally started sleepover over. Most of the time Kristina was there so it wasn’t terribly awkward and eventually Jack and I formed a report.

But I still had one big fear: what if he pees on our couch in his sleep? We loaded him up with soda every night and only half the time did Kristina remember to remind him to pee before bed. I was of course consciously aware of this every single time.

There was, and still is, an inner struggle inside my heart. Part of me wants him to pee himself because I am me. But I also don’t want to come off as a weirdo to my wife he has been cool about the whole diaper thing because it was sort of a who cares thing. Also: I liked that couch.

Since it does occasionally come up in conversation, Kristina had agreed that if he has even one accident then we will buy some Goodnites and make him wear them only when he sleeps over. She agrees that it’s better than cleaning up accidents ever.

I lose a lot of sleep when Jack sleeps over. Because I want him to pee on our couch. Because then he’ll have to wear Goodnites. But I don’t want him to pee on our couch. Because then our couch will have pee on it.

Autumn turned to Winter and then to Spring and then to Winter and then back to Spring a few more times. #GetOutAndVote, am I right? Kristina had worked the previous summer at a local day camp - same organization that ran soccer. We had talked about Jack doing the camp because it would be good for him.

But here’s the deal.

If Jack were to do the camp and Kristina were to work there, it only made sense for him to sleepover at our house a minimum of five nights a week. Since we know the kind of awful his mom is we figured that was a great idea. Yeah it’d be tough on us to basically adopt a kid for the summer when we were in our twentys, but the positive outweighs the negative.

Based on some casual conversations with his mom, I knew that his bedwetting accidents weren’t completely behind him. And half the time he sleeps over he has sort of a little mini night terror.

We just knew that if he spend forty nights at our house, after a lot of exciting fun and physical activity and being away from home for so long, that he was absolutely going to have an accident at some point.

When we first got this idea - before even pitching it to his mom - we went to target and bought some snacks that we know he likes for our house. And while we stuck by the “no Goodnites unless he actually does have an accident” thing, I convinced Kristina that it’d be worth it to invest in some Goodnite bed mats before such an accident were to occur.

Fuck, are those things still on the shelves? They are terrible. I tried one out myself and maybe it’s because I am three times larger then the intended user but it worked like 2 percent.

The next time Jack slept over, we hid one of the bed mats under a blanket on the couch and didn’t even mention them too him. I was so stressed out about the whole thing that I didn’t really sleep that night either. I checked on him like five times before drifting off to some kind of sleep.

When i finally woke and check on Jack in the morning, he was on the floor and the blanket/sheet/bed mat situation was a mess. Yeah not only do those things not really absorb properly they don’t really stick to shit either.

It was dry but had folded and distorted and taped itself to itself, so I just tossed it and hid it in the trash from him.

The next time he slept over I just gave up. And Kristina and I agreed the ship had sailed. He’s eight now. His night terrors has basically turned into talking in his sleep. He was probably never going to have an accident again, let alone at our house.

I think it was when we took him to see the new Power Rangers movie that I didn’t even think about it at all. Then Kristina came home from dropping him off and said that he apparently had peed on his own bed the night before he slept over at ours.

Kristina was hanging out before going home and her mom asked her to make his bed. She thought that was random but went to do it and found the bed completely stripped. She asked where the sheets were and her mom said that they were in the dryer because he peed the bed.

Kristina was like, “Well it’s a good thing he didn’t pee on our couch.”

Uh, yeah. What kind of mom gives you her kid for the weekend and doesn’t mention that? Of course again he didn’t really have wetting “phases” just the occasional one off because he’s an average kid with occasional night terrors. He probably never wet two nights in a row.

Anyway the idea of him attending that camp and staying with us fizzled out after a few unimportant details so we only expected him to sleep over the usual few nights here and there, maybe more than just weekends because he didn’t have school and Kristina didn’t have a set work schedule.

When Kristina told about that accident I surprisingly didn’t spiral back into my stressed out nights of “will he / won’t he” every time he slept over. And both Kristina and I pretty much agreed that one thing was for certain:

Jack was not going to pee on our couch.

Chapter 3

Jack Pees On Our Couch

It was about three months after Power Rangers. Kristina and I were married now. Jack was still spending the occasional weekend with us.

I found out about a special screening of the new Captain Underpants movie. That was Jack’s favorite book series and he had talked about the movie for a long time. I just knew he was going to be excited to see it a whole week early.

Here’s the catch. I only got 2 tickets to the event and Kristina had to work that day. That meant I’d have to take Jack all the way there and spend the whole day with him. At that point, I hadn’t really been alone with him since the first day of soccer. We just only took him on nights when we were both free.

But I didn’t care. Jack and I had bonded since then and I really wanted to go see the movie and do something hice and special for him.

So Kristina calls her mom to confirm that he is free and then meets me after work. We bus over to pick him up and take him to get dinner at a chinese place. He eats a bunch of food and gets a small soup on the side. That’s the only liquid he drank the whole night.

The movie was at 10AM on Saturday and we had to get there early because our seats weren’t guaranteed. So we’d have to leave at 9AM. I figured with breakfast and getting ready, we should wake up at 8AM although I was planning to let him sleep in until breakfast was ready and then eat quick and get him dressed.

Jack is a real boy’s boy so mornings are usually quick with him. He can change his clothes and get socks and shoes on in minutes.

I slept wonderfully that night. The summer was beginning and even though Jack wasn’t spending the whole thing with us it was still nice to kick it off with a nice boy’s day out. The movie theater is in a huge plaza with lots of shops and restaurants so we had a whole day planned.

I woke up at 8AM as planned, fully rested and ready to start my day. I went out to the living room to draw the blinds so that Jack might just slowly wake up on his own.

It was so obvious from the moment I walked in there and yet it took me - ME! - so long to figure it out.

Clue #1 Jack wasn’t on the couch. He was on the floor with a bunch of blankets bunched up all around him.

Clue #2 He wasn’t wearing the shorts Kristina lent him, but the long sweat pants he was wearing the night before.

Clue #3 He was also missing his shirt.

Clue #4 There was a big weird shadowy shape on the couch.

Clue #5 His shirt was on the floor next to the couch.

Clue #6 The shorts Kristina lent him were on the floor next to his shirt.

Clue #7 THe shorts Kristina lent him smelled like pee.



But also:



But more importantly:


For a split second I thought, “This is is. He finally did it. Now I’ll have a diaper wearing kid in my house!”

But the rest of me was like, “Fuck. Are we going to be late? Fuck. He is probbly going to need a shower. Fuck. My couch! Fuck do we have time for breakfast? Fuck. The movie’s at 10 that means we might not get out until 12:30 and the restaurant we already picked out (Jack’s never been to Steak and Shake) was a good walk away so we couldn’t go that long without food. Fuck. Popcorn is a great special occasion dinner but a terrible breakfast. Fuck. Do we have enough quarters for laundry. Fuck. Are Jack and I close enough for me to even approach him about this?”


Went and woke up Kristina. She is not a morning person. One time I brought her breakfast in bed and she fell right back to sleep and then had a dream that she ate it but when she woke up it was cold and refused to eat it.

“Kristina, wake up!”

She murmured and mumbled.


“Jack peed on the couch?” I was doing that loud whisper thing people do on TV but not in real life.


“Jack wet the bed. But on our couch.”

A second passed. And then she said:

“Noooo!” but still like super sleepy.


“We didn’t make him to go the bathroom last night,” she whined.

We didn’t, which wasn’t me manipulated the situation. We just forgot. To be fair he only had that small soup. There was a huge stain though.

She forced herself to get up and start getting dressed while I explained all my stress about breakfast and getting to the movie on time. She said she would handle it and sent me to start with breakfast.

I did not start breakfast. I kinda just hung back while she attended to him. I couldn’t actually hear them, but according to her it went like this:

Kristina bent over and nudged him awake all, “Hey, buddy.”

And he was like, “Hey.”

“What are you doing here on the floor?” Kristina asked. Having more or less raised him, she’s already masteredd the parenting technique of asking them what’s up when you already know what’s up.

“The couch is wet.” Jack said.

“And why is that?” she asked.

“I peed.”

“Okay,” she helped him up. “Why don’t you go shower and we’ll take care of this.”

She set up the shower for him and that was that.

I gathered the wet shirt and shorts in the laundry basket. This was when I realized that I could not find his underwear, so we waited until he was out of the shower before running the laundry.

During this time Kristina relayed to me their conversation from above and started dumping baking soda all over the stain. WTF? I’d heard “use baking soda to clean a wet bed” but I’d never actually seen how it’s done. This does explain why there were random clumps of baking soda all over her house. They have a dog.

Jack got done with his shower and came out fully dressed in clean clothes while I was finishing up breakfast. We hadn’t really talked about how we were going to handle the situation yet. I hadn’t even mentioned her promise of Goodnites.

I just wanted to get out of the door by 9 so we could get in to see this movie.

During breakfast and getting ready to leave Kristina and I were still running around cleaning up. We asked Jack where his underwear went and got a series of garbled nonsense that added up to this little story from him. I promise it made less sense in real life.

Jack woke up at midnight. He took off his underwear and then put his shorts back on. Then he went back to sleep. Then he woke up at 2AM to find that he peed. He didn’t want to bother us so he undressed and redressed in the ‘ensemble’ that I found him in and set up an emergency blanket cluster bed on the floor.

We had him retell this like three times and it changed every time and really we didn’t care about anything except one thing: where was his underwear.

Long story short, he probably wasn’t wearing any to begin with. He does that sometimes.

Kristina started the wash and Jack and I were off to our movie. The couch - which is actually a futon - was folded out and still had baking soda sitting in it. Had no idea where that was going.

The rest of the day went mostly smoothly. Jack seemed completely unphased by the whole thing, although he was still kind of waking up by the time we left.

The theater installed a new Coke Freestyle machine, which means unlimited refills on any size drink. So we had a lot before the movie even started but I didn’t leave to get a refill during.

My paranoia kicked in again and I spent the entire movie thinking Jack was about to pee his pants or smelling that he already had. Spoiler alert, he didn’t. I didn’t ask him if he had to go after it started because I didn’t want either of us to miss anything, I didn’t want to pester him, and I sorta wanted him to have an accident anyway as terrifying as that might sound. He went after the movie and then we walked off to lunch.

He didn’t want to stop at any stores along the way there so we just headed straight for Steak and Shake. Along the way, I finally brought up the accident and asked him why it happened

Jack didn’t really have much to say about it. He didn’t remember any bad dreams and wasn’t super excited for the movie. I asked him how often that happens and he just said, “Sometimes.”

I told him that it was okay and he shouldn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed - even though he didn’t and he wasn’t - and then I mentioned that lots of kids do it all the time and I even brought up that some still wear diapers every single night. When I said that some of his friends probably wore them he finally was like, “Okay this is getting too wear can we talk about something else?”

That was pretty much it. I knew he’d end up in one eventually so I didn’t have to do any convincing. I guess I just wanted to normalize the situation in advance. He was supposed to go home that night so it wasn’t even going to be an issue until the next sleepover.

After lunch - we both had milkshakes - we went to a few stores. We had passed the bookstore and the toy store and he didn’t want to backtrack so we kinda just had some random “mom” stores to explore. I could sense that the day was fizzling out I suggested we try all of the chairs in the store and review them.

The yellow ones by the shoes were the best.

We were buy a Target, so I did consider stopping in and grabbing some Goodnites for cheap, or even their offbrand. But I didn’t want to go there just yet. Plus you can’t go to Target and just get 1 thing.

So eventually we called an Uber and headed toward town, stopping to Kristina’s place of work to pick her up and head home. On the ride there, he asked if he could sleepover again. I said we’d have to check with Kristina and see. Now I was real pissed that we didn’t get the Goodnites at Target because anywhere between Krsitina’s work and our house was gonna be too cheap. The bad little Harmony that I am was all out at the time.

Kristina was cautious about him sleeping over because his “bed” was a wreck. Apparently she wanted to vacuum up the baking soda but it didn’t work. She had never used our vacuum before. And even then it was still going to be gross. I told her i could make it work and she agreed.

Then I whispered, “So we should go buy some Goodnites, right?”

She didn’t backpedal on the year old deal, she just said, “Yeah I guess we should.” I told her we would have to go buy them either at the expensive pharmacy or the less expensive dollar store out of the way. She was like, “Don’t you have any?” She knows me, what can I say?

So we stopped whispering in front of Jack and approached him. I was ready to bust out the good parenting speech about how he’s not a baby and we’re not punishing him, but ristina jumped in with this little bit:

“So,” she started, “You know how you peed on the couch? Well…. we’re going to get some diapers.”

I was like, “Whoa! Here we go. Temper tantrum and resists and so on.

But he was just confused. So I reminded him about how we discussed that lots of kids his age wore them. And then he was just like, “Oh yeah. Ok.”

So we went to the pharmacy and I paid like $13 for 11 Goodnites. Fuckin ripoff. We had Jack carry them home - in a plastic bag - not to shame him or anything. We were both just so tired.

And that was it. After over a dozen years my dream was finally coming true. I would finally be near a child wearing a diaper despite being way over the age of potty training.

Honestly, I’m not sure what my 13 year old self was planning to do with that situation should it ever arrive. So far it cost me a stressful early morning, impromptu laundry, probably a permanently damaged couch, and $13.

It sucked. But I didn’t want it to end.