Skip to content The Un-training of Stanley Kaminski – Chapter Seven
It was Monday and little time for pancakes and eggs. There was a tight schedule to be followed, one which allowed little time for dalliances. Maureen felt depressed as she turned off the alarm, knowing she had a busy day and one which included some travel. She started to get out of bed and then she felt it. Her whole side of the bed was wet, and she knew it wasn’t from her idiot husband because she had seen his diapers from the night before. “Oh my God” raced through her head. There was no way she could conceal this from her husband, but it didn’t look like she would have to. Stanley was out of bed and watching TV, and to her amusement, he had turned on cartoons.
“Oh Stanley,” she said, and then she caught herself. She had almost said oh baby, and she didn’t want to reveal that, not now nor in their bedroom. That would happen somewhere else and later.
She hastily stripped the bed, and as she ran down the stairs she yelled at her husband to snap out of it and get ready for work. She ran to the basement door, but then hesitated.
“Damn it,” she cursed. She would have to face her fears if she were to get rid of the evidence. Cautiously she walked down the stairs taking one step at a time, and on each step, looked on the walls, the overhanging ceiling, everywhere for spiders. The coast seemed clear and she got to the bottom, and it was there that her bare foot hit the cold clammy cement floor and she remembered her husband’s warning. Spiders love cold dark moist places, and she cringed. She quickly ran to the washer and jammed the fitted sheet and the top sheet into the machine, poured in too much detergent and set it to cotton.
She breathed a sigh of relief and began to go back when she saw it, sitting squarely in front of her, and it was huge, maybe the size of a small dog, hairy, bulbous, and blocking her way to the steps. She started to scream, and she put her hand to her mouth. Her husband couldn’t hear her, not here, but she screamed loud and long.
Upstairs Stanley could hear something. Was it his wife, he thought, and he returned his attention to the cartoon. Baby Bugs Bunny was in a diaper and he felt so little. He heard it again, his wife screaming and he came back to his senses. He realized there was something he had to do. The screaming stopped and then he knew what it was. He had to get ready for work. Again his diaper was wet and messy, but this time he didn’t mind. He toddled downstairs to his bathroom and changed out, putting his cloth diaper in the shower with him.
“Goo goo,” he said as he turned on the warm water. He liked his shower, and he thought he ought to wash his hair. He looked for the Johnson’s baby shampoo and then it hit him.
“Oh my God. What am I doing?” and he suddenly remembered who he was. “I’ll be late for work,” and he hurried to finish. He gave little thought to Maureen, as he gulped down breakfast, found the car keys and simply left.
Maureen was still in the basement hugging herself, holding herself like a little child and saying, “Oh God, make it go away. Make it go away.” She looked down again, forcing herself to look because it must have moved, must have come closer, and then what would she do? What would happen when it bit her and buried its venom into her flesh, her blood? What would she do when she felt the horrible poison course through her veins like burning fire. She looked down expecting the spider to now be lunging at her, its bloated hairy body pouncing on her bare feet, but to her surprise, there was no spider. Where could it have gone, she thought. And then she ran.
It didn’t surprise her that her husband had left, and not just left, but left her to fend for herself.
“Oh Stanley, you bastard. I will have my revenge,” and with that, she hurried to get herself ready for work, knowing she would now be late. The thought made her angrier, and though she had wondered if she should go through with this part of her plan, there was no questioning the wisdom of it now. In the bathroom taking her shower, in her bedroom, the kitchen, everywhere she went, she looked for spiders. She looked on the walls, the floor, the corners, in the shadows, and the ceiling where they could come silently down upon the unsuspecting, slipping downward on a single gossamer strand. She was glad to get in her car and out on the road. There was one thing she would have to do before she reached her first client, one thing that she had questioned because it would have consequences. But now she didn’t care. She would get even with that idiot husband, and who cared what happened to him.
She knew his secretary and she knew she would be there to answer the phone. She was a good secretary, and she would want to do something nice for Stanley. Maureen punched the numbers into her smart phone, and she waited.
“Hello Barbara? Yes, this is Maureen. It’s Stanley’s and my anniversary, and I forgot to wish him a happy anniversary. I wonder if you would be a dear and surprise him, if you could just say, ‘Oh baby’, happy anniversary. He’ll know it’s from me. Remember it’s got to be ‘oh baby’, because that’s what I call him.”
She heard Barbara giggle when she said “it’s what I call him”, and it made her feel somewhat excited. She hadn’t anticipated that feeling, but she liked it, and oddly, it made her feel a little naughty, like a naughty little girl. Unexpectedly she felt like she had to pee, and she was forced to turn into a gas station to use their bathroom. She hated using gas station restrooms, and she wished she was home, safe and secure in bed, which suddenly, she thought, was unlike her.
Stanley parked his car in the company parking lot, and as he was walking through the double glass doors it occurred to him that he hadn’t said good bye to Maureen. In fact, he hadn’t even seen her, and then it seemed to him, that he had lost a whole section of time. He couldn’t remember what he had been doing early in the morning.
“What the hell’s happening to me,” he thought, and he walked by his secretary’s desk.
“Oh hi Stanley, happy anni….and then she remember, that’s not right. “
She tried again, somewhat stilted, “Oh baby, happy anniversary,” and she was about to explain that the salutation was from his wife, but she was interrupted by something unexpected. She heard this horrible rumbling coming from Stanley’s stomach. She saw him bend over in pain, and then grab the front of his trousers. He looked so handsome, she had once thought, in his suit, white shirt and tie, but what was about to happen would dispel that thought forever.
In the briefest moment, Stanley had no idea what was coming over him. A few seconds ago he was walking into work, saying hello to his secretary. She had said something, but he couldn’t recall it. Now, baby thoughts were flooding his mind. He felt like a baby, and worse yet, he could feel a rumbling in his lower bowls that spelled doom. He had lost all control and he felt helpless. He felt the rush of pee, uncontrolled wetness filling the front of his nicely pressed pants and now it was running down his leg and into his shoes. Worse, his bowls were letting loose, and he was filling the back of his pants. He was overcome by the smell, but that wasn’t the worst of it. No, that was nothing compared to the looks on the faces of everyone in the office.
“Oh baby, what have you done to yourself? Are you sick?” was the last thing he heard his secretary say as he ran out of the office and back to his car. He had no choice but to sit in it and drive home. What was he going to say? What explanation would he give, and then he remembered his secretary’s final words. Yes, he would tell them he was sick, and he thought he must be sick, but what kind of sickness would cause this, and then he remembered the CD’s. He had been playing CD II down in his baby sanctuary, but he had only done that a couple of times, and there was nothing about crapping yourself. How had this happened, and then he wondered, could Maureen know? Had she done something, and he remembered the misplaced Spider CD. That must be it. She must have discovered his secret, his terrible, terrible secret. He felt guilty, and for the briefest moment, hated himself. Why did he want to be a baby? Stupid, stupid, he thought, but then something else spoke to him, spoke in the dark crevices of his brain, speaking backwards, masked in white noise.
It said, “Everyone wants to be a baby. Play the trac. Play the trac. You are a baby. You live in a baby world. Play the track. Play the trac,” and tonight, he would do just that. He would set the DVD player to do its thing, and instead of spiders, it would take both of them to the safe world of baby. If Maureen had done this to him, and now he was sure she had, by God, he would do it to her; see how she liked being a baby in front of everyone.
The hidden track played again and again in his subconscious, wiping out any sense of responsibility and worse, consequences.
The End of The Un-training of Stanley Kaminski – Chapter Seven.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index