Descent into Diapers – Chapter Nine
This walk back to the SUV seems to not end. Jessica dropped off and went on her own way about two or so blocks ago in a different direction. Jen has not yelled at me, scolded me, looked at me funny, or even belittled me. I feel so bad because she has done nothing but be kind and gentle with me since I wet myself. Well, she has not let go of my hand but that is not necessarily out of the normal of what she has been doing this whole trip. Just Jen and I said our goodbyes to Jessica there was a lady that commented to Jen and me, and she told us, well more Jen, ‘Poor little guy, did not make it to the bathroom.’ Jen smiled at the gal and replied to her for me and said, ‘We had a little wardrobe malfunction, unfortunately, we left our diaper bag in the car. Luckily, we parked just down the street.’ Then Jen just smiled and started walking with me in tow before the conversation progressed any further.
To be honest I don’t know why Jen told that lady that ‘we’ had the wardrobe malfunction, it was me with urine soak shorts, and it was my diaper bag. But that is one thing that always surprises me with Jen, no matter what issues I have she is always there to share the burden and the blame. I think that is what is making me feel bad the most right now, she has always been a team player and pushing me to be my best. What have I done to be her team player? What have I done to help push her to be her best? To be honest, I have been so wrapped up in work that I probably have not given Jen as much attention as she deserves.
I shake my head to try and get myself out of my sinking thoughts. Looking around I spot Jen’s SUV up ahead, instantly feeling worried about what trouble I am in, I look up to my wife. . . No that is not right, I look up to my Mommy and try to figure out what is going on in her head. What was she thinking about? All she is doing is walking at my short-legged pace armed with a gentle expression and smile that could melt any iceberg.
“Almost their buddy,” Jen says glancing down and catching me staring at her.
I blushed as I made eye contact with her and instantly looked down at my feet. The last time I broke the rules this badly it did not end well, minus what happened last week on Tuesday when I was caught red-handed standing on the counter in the middle of the night. But before now the rules that we agreed on were for our health and safety, The first time I dehydrated myself to try and stop bedwetting I found myself in the doctor’s office. Or the time I did not eat and take care of myself led to a week of Alice watching me eat when Jen was at work. The reason I was surprised I did not get in trouble for standing on the counter this last time was because the last time I was caught doing just the same thing ended with me writing a 900-word minimum essay explaining why I chose to sneak a late-night snack when I did not eat any dinner. My stool was also confiscated for a month, in the moment she caught me I was put in the corner for time out.
Oh, and that one time that Jen put my stool on the top of one of the shelves in the garage, she was more accurate than I give her credit, I did almost fell. But she originally took my stool yet again not asking for help when I needed it, when I went to retrieve it before I was told I could have it I nearly fell and busted my head on the concrete. Jen just happened to be there in the nick of time to not only catch me but stop the shelves from falling, though there were a few cans of oil that dropped and busted out that I had to clean up. But that time was one of the very few times that ended with me getting a very hard spanking. I do my best to keep my emotions in check but at that time it was difficult to keep from bawling my eyes out. Jen has only resorted to a spanking only a few times, and every time looking back now I kind of deserved it.
Breaking me out of my trance Jen tilted my head up gently so I was looking at her as she started to say, “Honey, please stand right here. Wait for me to help you get in, I want to get something first.” She also physically placed one of my hands on the car and wordlessly motioned for me not to let go of the car.
I did as I was instructed to and held my hand on the SUV just after the front passenger door. Jen disappeared to the back of the vehicle and popped the back hatch. She must have been prepared for this because it did not take long before I heard the back hatch close and Jen making her way around to me holding a small blanket. I watched her intently as she adjusted my position so the door to the passenger side did not hit me when she opened it. She placed the folded blanket on the seat, moved my new bunny to the center console to sit comfortably, and motioned for me to hop in. I went to put my seatbelt on, but she just caught my hands and gently placed them on my lap before she proceeded to buckle me up herself. Once she made sure I was not on the way she shut my door and hopped in the driver’s seat, buckled herself, and started the engine to start our journey back to the house . . . I hope.
The nonexistent tension that was between us continued in the SUV, though Jen’s smile did turn into a neutral expression as she kept her eyes on the road. The normal radio station that she had tuned was playing softly as I sat there with my hands in my lap. I tried to make conversation with her, but I did not know what to say, so I just went from looking out the window to glancing at her and back to watching the scenery pass by. About ten minutes into our trip Jen must have noticed me shivering due to the air conditioning blowing on me and wordlessly adjusted it so that I was not shivering anymore.
With only my thoughts swirling in my head to keep me occupied the trip home seemed to be twice as long to get home, but as I was keeping track with the radio’s digital clock it was about two minutes faster. There was also a little less traffic to slow us down. Our neighborhood finally came into view, shortly after that I watched Jen make a few turns and eventually reach our house. She pulls strain in the driveway slowly brings the SUV to a stop, places the transmission in park, and turns the engine off. Before she opened her door, she made sure she had her purse, my diaper bag, and my bunny. Her seatbelt clicked, releasing her from the seat, and hopped out of the vehicle.
I hesitated at my seat belt due to her not letting me buckle myself. My hand was hovering over the buckle before I noticed Jen was moving to the passenger side to retrieve me before going into the house. I avoided eye contact as she opened my door, unbuckled my seatbelt, and motioned for me to hop out. As my feet planted on the concrete Jen gently instructed me, “Grab the blanket please.”
“Yes, Mommy,” I tell her as I do as I was told. The blanket did its job of keeping Jen’s seat clean and dry from my wet cargo shorts, but they will need to be laundered before it gets used again. She gently but firmly closed my door once I was out of the way and turned to go into the house. With nowhere to go my only option was to follow suit behind her. though when we reached the front door, she opened it and motioned me to go in first as she placed her hand in the middle of my back, guiding me through the threshold. I took my shoes off, placed them on the shoe rack, and waited for Jen to get done doing the same.
I was not afraid of Jen; she never did anything of the sort to give me that emotion. The correct emotions I was feeling were shame, guilt, and anxiety, how was I supposed to react to Jen when she was nothing but caring for me even when I knew I was in the wrong? Before my spiral of emotions could go any further, I noticed she had already placed her purse on the little table we keep next to the door and halfway up the stairs before I heard her say my name for the second time, trying to get my attention.
“Charlie, sweetie, come on,” Jen said warmly as she waved for me to follow her.
As reluctant as I was, I needed to get this over with and own up to what I did. I followed Jen up the stairs, down the hall, and into our bedroom. I stood there just in the doorway and watched Jen take the urine-soaked blanket from me, place it in the hamper, and then move to sit down at the foot of the bed on the trunk, setting my diaper bag and bunny down next to her. With Jen sitting down I still felt smaller than her even though we were now nearly eye to eye with her sitting on the trunk. If I was to stand directly in front of her, I would only need to bend my head ever so slightly to make eye contact. But I did not do that, I opted to stay only a couple steps away from the doorway.
Jen did not motion for me to come closer, she only just started to speak. “Do you want to tell me what happened, Charlie?” Jennifer asked calmly, keeping eye contact.
I very much did not want to admit to my actions. I wanted to run and hide under the sink and pretend I was somewhere else. But Jen would not let this go till we talked our way through this, no matter what the outcome. Even before I had gotten spanked, she and I had a deep conversation about what happened, why it happened, and the consequences of my actions. Hell, Jen even made sure I was cared for and held no tension after every punishment she dealt to make sure I was ok.
“Charlie, please focus,” Jennifer says directing my attention on her and not on my thoughts. Once she saw my deer in the headlights look go away, she repeated her question, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Meekly, I tell her, “Not really, no.”
As my eyes started to divert, I heard Jen say, “Charlie, stay focused. Keep your eyes on me.” With a brief pause to make sure I was not going to say anything, she continued. “I can see the turmoil swirling around in your head. Before I get you cleaned up and investigate why your diaper did not do its job, I want to see why your demeanor changed from a managed shy and embarrassed, which was expected, to an overwhelming guilt and regret.”
“I, um . . .” I started to say realizing she did not know what I did. She is only reacting to her observations of the way I have been behaving?
With my brief pause, Jen said, “Please do not lie to me.”
“I, um . . .” I started again trying not to freeze at Jen’s request. Do I attempt to give my only lame excuse? Or do I just come clean? I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and decided to try and lie my way out. As I let my breath out, I rapidly say, “Iusedthepottywhenwewasattheshop.” What? That was not what I wanted to say. Shit, shit, shit.
“You did what?” Jennifer started to ask me. “I got about half that but, please, say it slower so I can make sure I heard correctly,” she requested.
I felt like a deer in a bear trap, my heart betrayed my brain and forced my tongue to speak the truth. There is no way to backpedal from this, might as well follow in my heart’s lead and tell the truth. With frightened eyes I clarified my last statement, “I used the potty when we were at the shop.”
Jen made a serious face and asked, “Why?”
I waited to see if there was more, a rhetorical question or something, but there wasn’t. She wanted me to explain my actions. Good grief, this sucks. “I did not want to be seen wetting my paints with Mr. Kim around,” I told her. After a second, I continued to elaborate with a shaky breath, “Even though I realized that wearing a diaper in public was not that bad and no one noticed I still could not come to terms with actually peeing my pants in public.”
Jen’s face relaxed but with raised eyebrows reiterated what she heard, “You were embarrassed to use your diaper, so you snuck into the bathroom to use the potty.” After a dramatic pause, she added, “When I let you have some space. . . Like an adult.”
Like an adult? How is pissing my pants being an adult? It was my turn to furrow my brows and confidently tell her, “In the heat of the moment I was about to piss my diaper like a child but saw a toilet and decided to be an actual adult and use the ‘toilet.’” I emphasized the word toilet firmly and was confident in what I said, standing up for myself. I may have gotten my emotions riled up but at this moment I did not care.
Jen just stared at me blankly as she said, “Please calm down and do not cuss. That is strike two today.” Her face became a bit more serious when she continued, “Wearing diapers does not make you any less of an adult. Yes, we have a Momma Dom and little boy relationship that ‘we’ both agreed on, physically signed agreeing, but at no time have I not respected you as an adult.” I watched Jen stare at me, letting her words sink in. Jen softened her gaze saying, “I wanted to take you out today to show you that you can be an adult and still wear diapers, show you that it does not limit you as a person. I wanted to make sure that I was with you as we, as a team, build your confidence together.”
What was I supposed to respond with? As I searched for words I started to say, “I just. . .” I looked around for the right words to say, “It was. . .” I took a breath, diverted my eyes, and said, “I’m sorry.”
I heard Jen sigh and looked at the compassion in her eyes, “Charlie, if this is too much for you, I want you to tell me.” She must have seen confusion in my eyes because she took a breath and continued to say, “I know this is all a big jump for you. I also know you are plagued with the fear of people finding out your insecurities, and often feel like you need to change to make others like you. You may think you are confident in yourself and may portray that to others, but remember how you acted once I found out you wet the bed? And if wearing diapers and being my little boy is too much, I need you to tell me, and be honest about it.”
It took me a moment to collect my thoughts, but I decided to respond by telling her, “You cannot imagine the confidence you have given me over the years just by being my friend. I do not mean to . . . I don’t know. Work so hard to please the people around me. I guess constantly being picked on for being short and afraid that my bedwetting was going to hinder my dating life made me feel like I had to compensate.” All of this was true, I was not sure why I felt the need to spill my guts on this be it just kind of came out.
“Charlie, everyone has flaws, no one person is perfect,” Jenifer said during my brief pause.
I quickly picked my voice back up and responded, “I know, and you have been an amazing friend, partner, and wife. . . not to mention the best Mommy. The things you help me with, not just physically, but emotionally. I honestly feel like you help me more than I can help you.”
I watched as love and passion sparkled in her eyes as she smiled at my comment. “Babe, you help me more than you realize, you are my favorite person to be around. You do not need to act all macho around me to impress me, you being yourself is what I find attractive.”
I blushed and did not know where to look but eventually settled on looking at my best friend, telling her, “Thanks, that means a lot.”
“I need you to answer my last question though,” she said in all seriousness. “Is wearing diapers too much, if so, do I need to stop being Mommy and you my little boy?” she asked in a more serious tone.
I felt the weight of the world start to bear down on me, but I eventually was able to answer, “Yes diapers are always too much, but you give me confidence in them. I don’t want to stop what we have. I feel it is a part of us.”
“So, you want to wear diapers and want to be my little boy,” Jen clarifies.
I knew what she wanted me to say. My cheeks turned crimson as I uttered the words, “I want to wear diapers and I want to be your little boy. . . Mommy.” As soon as the words left my mouth, butterflies were waging war in my stomach.
Jen smiled lightly and firmly stated, “If that is truly how you feel then I accept.” With another dramatic pause, she continued to say, “You understand that you broke a few rules today correct.”
And all the regret returned. I gulped and admitted my wrongdoing, “Yes, Mommy.”
Jen calmly asked another question, “What rules did you break?”
I unconsciously tried to look away as I was about to recite the rules that were broken, but just then Jen cleared her throat and pointed to her eyes, demanding I look at her as I admit my wrongdoings. I cleared the frog in my throat and started to recite, “I broke sub-rule nine, the potty is off limits by utilizing the potty at the store. Rule ten and sub-rule ten were both broken, I am not allowed to change my diaper and Mommy is in charge of my diaper. I broke them when I decided to take my diaper off and attempted to diaper myself back up.” I watched Jen listen to what I was saying. Before she responded I felt the need to add, “I also kind of broke rule five for not asking for help when I need it. I need help going potty and I took it upon myself to take care of it and ended up breaking more rules.” I took a breath and swallowed my pride as I also added to my shape admitting, “I also lied about finishing the bottle of water that you purchased for me, I accidently left it in the bathroom and felt the need to hide that information so I did not get caught fiddling with my diaper and using the potty. . . I guess you can put that one under rule one on drinking plenty of water.”
I knew Jen knew what rules I broke, well most of them. She probably expected it from me admitting my guilt for what I did. But it was when I told her I lied to her about drinking water that I saw her mood change. The last time she caught me not being honest on my water consumption she warned me I would not like it if I did it again. The whole diaper rules were still rather new and though I expected punishment I doubt she would ever go to harshly; she was always the one to make the punishment fit the crime. The lying about drinking water, well that piled up on a well-established pile of previous wrongdoings eventually leading to me needing to see my doctor. Jen made sure after that I knew she meant business and put drinking water at the tip top of the list.
“You did what?” Jenifer said with fury pouring from her eyes.
I looked down in defeat, “I lied about not drinking water.”
Her deep breath made me look up and watch her exhale. Opening her eyes revealed a calm level head and started to speak, “You understand that you misplacing your water is not the issue.”
“Yes Mommy,” was all I dared to say.
“You lying about not drinking water is what I am upset about,” Jen informed me. She also went on to ask, “What did I say I would do the next time you were not honest about your water intake.”
I made eye contact with her giving her my best puppy dog eyes, hoping that I would receive mercy, “You said I was going to get a spanking.” Once I realized my puppy dog eyes were not going to work, I looked down and added, “Mommy.”
In an even tone, she said, “I am glad you remember. But speaking of punishments, what do you think we should do about the other rules you broke?”
I looked at her wishing she would just issue out the punishment without doing this whole show. But I knew she was thorough with me understanding my wrongdoing and helping pick the punishment that fit. With a tired breath told her, “I was naughty with what I did but time out does not seem to capture the gravity of the situation. You made me write an essay last time I had to learn a serious lesson, so that kind of fits the bill but I honestly do not know. Maybe Grounding?”
I received a sympathetic look from Jen before she helped me with my punishments, “I do not feel grounding you will teach the right lesson. And you are right, timeout does not fit our situation. The diapers are relatively new, and we are still working on them. You walking down the street in wet pants was probably really embarrassing. I do like the idea of writing another essay, it will be good for you, and you can learn from it. What lesson are you needing to learn?”
Her inquisitive question made me think for a moment, but I soon answered with, “I ultimately did not trust your method of creating confidence with my diapers. I failed at communicating my worries and needs to you so we as a team can work together and find what helps.”
I saw Jen smile at my insightful point of view and commented, “I like your point of view, let’s go with that. Let’s do an essay depicting the pros and cons of communication and no communication. I also would like you to add how communication affects teamwork.”
I looked at her in disbelief. “What?” I started to say, calculating how much I was going to need to think on this assignment. With a sigh of acceptance, I asked her, “How long should my essay be?”
“I want 1500 words minimum, handwritten first, then typed up. You can use my computer downstairs to type it. There will be no music while doing your assignment, this is a punishment. You will also have as long as you need to write it, taking normal breaks to eat, hydrate, and diaper changes. I don’t mean to add to the punishment but there will be no garage time or driving until you finish your punishment. Remember, work before play. Also, do not forget, you are still on strike two for today, you get one free pass if you fail to call me Mommy, pass ends at bedtime.”
“Yes Mommy,” I tell her, accepting the punishment.
Her face turned serious once more, “Here is what we are going to do. I am going to take your wet clothes off you, get your spanking over with, then you can take a shower to get clean. When you are done, I will make sure you are snug in a fresh diaper and clean onesie. You will be allowed to take your bunny with you but ultimately need to start your essay when you are all dressed for the afternoon. I will make a light dinner and expect you to do your best to eat what you can.”
Not that I forgot but I was hoping she would blow over the first punishment. “Yes Mommy,” I said to let her know I understood.
“Now please come here so I can get my baby out of those icky clothes,” Jen said in a motherly tone, beckoning me over.
I slowly made my way over to her and, true to her word she started to strip my clothes for me, not allowing me to touch them. First was my shirt, “Arms up honey,” she instructed. My cargo shorts were next as she grabbed the waist and pulled down. “Can you step out of your shorts for me,” she asked making sure I was not going to lose my balance. Her hand soon found its way to my crotch and with unknown speed popped the snaps to my onesie, letting my diaper plop to the ground between my legs a soft thud. “Arms up one more time baby,” she instructed as she continued to remove the onesie.
I started to blush as I was only in my wet socks, standing in front of my wife. I saw her move my somewhat wet diaper out of the way, balling it up the best she could and putting it next to the small pile of clothes she was collecting from my body.
“Sit on your bottom honey, I need to take your sockies off,” she said, using childish terms to talk to me. None the less I sat down and gave her one foot at a time. She then picked my diaper off the floor and started to hand it to me asking, “Do you think you can throw away your diaper for Mommy?”
The reason for her to talk to me like a child did not register, none the less I responded in kind, “Yes Mommy, I can do that.”
“Good boy, go put it in the bathroom over there, ok?” she praised as she pointed to the direction, she wanted me to go.
I got up and took my diaper to the trash as instructed. When I went to go back to her, I saw her walking back to her spot on the truck, she must have put my wet clothes in the hamper since I did not see them on the floor anymore. The closer I got to her the more fear came to my throat. I felt her gently grab my hands and lead me to where I was standing when she was taking my clothes off.
“Now this is important Charlie,” she said, giving herself a natural pause as she continued to instruct me. “I need you to tell me why you are going to get spanked and then I need you to tell me if you accept the consequence of your actions leading up to this. Do you understand so far?”
With a nervous voice, I say, “Yes Mommy.”
“Good boy, after you say that we will get your spanking over with. When we are done, I want you to not say sorry, but I want you to repeat what you did wrong and how you are going to improve your actions for the better. Once you say that I will let you take a shower and collect your thoughts. When you are done with the shower, I will be here for you and make sure you are good, clean, safe, and loved. Do you understand,” she said, finishing her instructions on how the next few moments were going to go.
I was calm, ready to get this over with. “Yes, Mommy,” I said one more time.
“Remember, once we are done, we are done. There is no grudge, hard feelings, or remorse. We will pick ourselves up, learn, and most importantly hug it out,” she said reminding me that this was meant as a hard lesson more so than a punishment.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I opened my eyes and let my breath out and told Jen, “Mommy I am getting a spanking for lying about drinking water, which is a repeat offense, and was warned what would happen the next time I did it. I fully accept my spanking and have agreed to them.” My breath was a bit shaky at the end and tears were welling up. But I still did as she said and accepted my fate.
Even in tough situations like this I still know that Jen still loves me, she would not go out of her way to make sure I understood why I was getting punished if she did not care. And she meant every word she said. Once she was done her part of the hard task I stood up and blubbered my way through basically the same words I said just a moment ago. I am sure that half of it was not understandable, but I knew she understood I tried my best. When she saw I was stuck at the end of what I was supposed to say she pulled me into a hug and began to console me.
It did not take as long as I thought to collect myself and stop the waterworks, mostly and calm down to calmer breathing. Jen released me from my hug but still held on to me, looked me in the eyes, and asked me, “Are you ok?” I wiped my tears and snot away as dignified as I could and shook my head yes. She gave me a sympathetic look and asked, “You ok to take a shower by yourself, or do you want me to help you?”
The care that she gave me did not waver whatsoever, even when she was mad, she always made sure that I knew she still loved me. I started to tear up and cry some more, even though my bottom was bright red I still craved her gentle touch. The tears that came prompted Jen to get up and usher me to the bathroom and proceed to get the shower prepped and start stripping herself so she could come in with me.
The End of Descent into Diapers – Chapter Eight.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index