Hypnosis at CAPCon - Part 2 (Patreon)
Content
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Light flooded into the hotel room. Klein sat up instantly, clutching his throat. For a second there, he had felt like he was drowning. The light was harsh and burned his eyes. Klein realized he had been coughing as if he had been dunked underwater at the pool. Klein turned over and then felt it.
The diaper between his legs was swollen. It was completely wet, soaked beyond capacity. There was a small but easily identifiable wet spot on the hotel bed.
Klein sat up and pushed his fingers onto the diaper’s bulging front. The plastic gave a crinkly squish and ballooned back out.
Klein wigged his legs in full excitement and laughed to himself. He had achieved absolute victory. The file had worked. He had wet the bed for the first time since childhood and felt very good about it.
Klein made a mental note to make sure he listened to the file again the next night to make sure the file took. He had read before that repeated hypnosis was the key to success. Klein then hopped into the shower, changed, and headed out to the convention for the rest of the day.
That night, he shoved his headphone back into his ears and fired up the recording again. This time the ocean waves crashed around him again the voice purred into his ears that he needed the diapers, that the diapers were there to protect him.
Klein followed willingly. He let all the resistance go in his mind.
But once again, he heard the voice deviate further into the sinister.
“You can’t control your bladder…” the voice insisted. “You need to do everything in your diapers… everything… You are a baby.”
Klein woke up startled again. The light-flooded his eyes, nearly burning them. He was coughing again, gagging even. Once again, his diaper was saturated. Full. This time he had been smart and laid a puppy pad underneath him to catch any leaks. Klein enjoyed the sensation for a while and then got changed for another day of fun at the convention.
Only, not everything went as planned.
Especially in the trampoline room.
The trampoline room was a recent addition to CAP this year. The enture room was built like a trampoline theme park. People were jumping up and down on the trampolines, bouncing off the walls and falling over in complete silliness.
When it was Klein’s turn, he squatted and jumped. His feet hit the trampoline again, and he jumped up, the momentum carrying him higher than before. At the next jump, he felt a strange sensation deep within his abdomen and fell on his diapered bottom with a squish.
Panicking slightly, Klein hobbled off the trampoline and waddled straight to the bathroom. Each step he made confirmed what he prayed wasn’t true. It was as if someone had dumped a jar of peanut butter into his diaper, right between his legs, and then sent him on his way. Only, this was not peanut butter.
Klein looked into the mirror and checked the back of his diaper to see it poofing out considerably in the back. There was slight discoloration.
Klein waddled quickly up the stairs back to his room, doing his best to avoid other people. He knew the convention, with all of its confusing rules had one consistent rule. No messing allowed, and he wasn’t about to run afoul of that policy.
In his hotel room, Klein showered, changed, and rejoined the party. It seemed like no one had noticed the accident earlier. Klein chalked it up to having too much fun on the trampoline. He was sure it could happen to anyone. But in the back of his mind, Klein had to wonder if the file he had listened to had anything to do with it. He had a hard time remembering what exactly the file had been telling him the night before…
Klein resolved right then and there that he needed to stop listening to the tapes. There was no good reason for him to continue listening to them now that he had fulfilled his bedwetting fantasies. Stella’s tapes had worked.
Except, Klein would realize life is never that simple.
That night Klein had to double diaper himself before bed to ensure he didn’t leak. The diapers were comically thick at that point, forcing him to lie on his back staring straight up at the ceiling. He wondered who was in charge of cleaning this hotel. For the first time, he noticed cobwebs on the fan that rotated quietly above him. Klein’s mind kept gesturing back to the tapes, wanting to listen and hear the voice sitting behind the ocean.
Klein shook his head. No way was he listening to the tapes again. He had what he needed. He had what he needed.
But that night, Klein dreamed of the waves again, the voice softy tickling his ears, the deep pulse working its way through his mind. The voice was so soft that he couldn’t understand it, but his mind felt a pang of hunger and dependency he had not quite felt before.
Once again, Klein woke up wet, coughing and confused. How had he listened to the hypnosis tape when he didn’t put in his headphones? He reached up to his ears and pulled out his AirPods, realizing that he must have put them in during his sleep.
Klein was startled, accepting that he must have made this move subconsciously.
Klein reached down and felt his thick diapers. Both layers of his MagaMax diaper were soaked. There was even some slight leakage on the pad he had put down.
After relishing the feelings for a moment, Klein took the diaper off, showered, and joined his friends for breakfast.
But once again, he felt a bit funny while in the elevator. The person next to him gasped.
“Are you kidding me?” They asked, covering their nose in disgust.
Someone else in the elevator shook their head. “Not cool, dude.”
Klein reached to the back of his diaper and felt the mess that had invaded his posterior. The mess that he had just made without realizing it. The mess he had just made in an elevator full of people.
Klein felt embarrassment well up inside him as the elevator continued to travel down to the bottom floor. The elevator was notoriously slow. On each floor, there would be a ding, the door would open, and new people would spill inside, take one look at him and leave. Klein was paralyzed with fear. Each person, in turn, gave Klein disappointing glares, frowning as they exited the elevator, resolving to take the stairs instead.
Klein decided right then and there that he wanted to go back to his room and change. He could not be seen in a dirty diaper at CAPCon; that was grounds to be kicked out and banned for life. Once the elevator got to the first floor, he waddled straight to the stairs and began to climb to the sixth floor.
Klein realized, unlike the day before, there was a bigger load in the back of his plastic padding and felt a slight panic well up inside of him. Each step he took up the stairs, Klein felt the back of his diaper holding him back, stretching the leak guards to the back, squishing between his thighs. Klein was praying that no one would enter the stairwell as he finally reached the sixth floor and waddled his way to his hotel room. Once inside, he ripped off his diaper, showered, bagged up his trash, and took it outside.
Klein was sitting in a classroom listening to a social media panel when someone tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to come with them. Klein obliged and was led into a conference room. He sat down with a squish that surprised him. Klein hadn’t remembered wetting his diaper. He brushed the curiosity aside as the two people explained to him that they needed to give him a warning. They told Klein that messing was strictly prohibited at the convention outside his hotel room and that they had gotten several complaints.
The two facilitators warned him he’d be kicked out of the convention without a refund and put on the banned list if this behavior continued.
Klein nodded and bit his lip slightly. He hadn’t meant to mess his diaper. He hated messing. It had been a complete accident each time it happened - a legitimate accident. Klein tried to explain it to the people chastising him, only to be told that unless he had fecal incontinence, that was no excuse. Klein nodded and resolved to be more careful. He simply needed to watch what he ate. Clearly, the sugar he’d been eating the last few days had gotten to him in a profound way.
But the problems continued.
By lunchtime, Klein’s diaper was soaked again, and he was having difficulty remembering wetting. Ater a quick change and some time spent in the notorious ball pit, he felt that sinking feeling in his abdomen again, only to realize with panic he had once again messed his diaper. Klein excused himself and rushed upstairs to his room to change before anyone noticed.
Klein decided to stay in his room for a little while and focus on the situation.
He had messed his diaper several times in the last few days of this convention and found himself constantly dribbling in his diaper without noticing. Clearly, he had gotten too comfortable with wearing the diapers. All the excitement of the convention caused him to just release like this. So Klein did the only logical thing. He reached for his underwear and pulled on a pair of jeans. He wouldn’t be wearing a diaper for the rest of the night.
Only that was a bad idea. A few hours later, Klein had soaked right through his underwear and jeans and was left dashing back to his room to remedy the situation.
By this point, Klein was panicking.
Why did this keep happening to him? The hypnosis was supposed to make him a bedwetter not fully incontinent. Those were two very different things. Had the tapes just been way too effective at their job? Klein frowned, returned to his laptop, and again pulled up the website. There had to be an explanation.
Klein reviewed the tape he had chosen and for the first time, realized that it said that it offered full incontinence and not just bedwetting. Klein gasped and shook his head.
This had to be some sick joke.
He thought back to Stella’s warning and frowned. He needed to find her as soon as possible to clear things up. Klein looked down at the swollen diaper between his legs that bulged out in the chair, the leak guards flexed to the max, and the wetness indicator a bright blue. Klein resolved that he would find Stella at her booth tomorrow and solve this once and for all.
Before he double-diapered himself for bed, Klein deleted the file from his phone. He’d find her first thing in the morning.
***
Klein woke up with the lingering sound of waves in his head and the soft tones of the voice in his mind. He stretched and felt his wet, thick diaper between his legs. Only this time, things felt different. His mind was foggy and felt heavy. There was a squishy sensation between his legs that wasn’t just wet.
There was no doubt about it. Klein had messed himself in his sleep. And this terrified him beyond belief.
Klein waddled over to the shower and washed up, making sure to clean every bit of himself. In the shower, he thought about the game plan for the day. He would diaper up, use plenty of powder, and this time wear a onesie over his diaper. No more just diapers for him. If he messed himself on accident, people would know. He resolved to wear a pair of plastic pants over a Megamax which should hold in the smell.
Klein didn’t realize how much his mind had already shifted to accommodate his brief stent of incontinence in such a short period, but he couldn’t take any chances. Klein wasn’t risking being kicked out of the convention. The facilitators had already warned him before.
Klein glanced at his phone and say the vendor space was set to open in a few moments. He squeezed the front of his diaper area and could tell he was already slightly wet. He grimaced slightly and headed for the stairs. He wouldn’t take the elevator again if he could help it.
At least he’d get his leg exercises in.
Klein entered the vendor space and searched for Stella’s table. Only where the table used to be, there was no one there. The table was empty. Just a chair and a dusty tabletop.
“Excuse me?” Klein asked a nearby table vendor, feeling slightly panicked. “Have you seen Stella’s Sleepies?”
The vendor looked puzzled and shook his head.
“She was here yesterday,” Klein insisted.
“Sorry, dude, I’m a little busy,” the vendor gestured to the line in front of him.
“But if you could just-“
But the vendor ignored Klein and focused on the queue in front of him.
Klein stamped his foot in frustration. Fuck. Where was this woman? Klein had the sudden crippling sensation of anxiety pile up in his mind. What if he couldn’t find her? What if he was stuck hopelessly messing his diapers twice a day for the rest of his life? Sure he had the most tantalizing fantasies of becoming a bedwetter, but he had no interest in living a life like this. One where he had to wear thick diapers during the day or risk embarrassing himself in public.
Only, he’d be embarrassed either way, right?
Right now, the way things stood, if he didn’t wear a diaper, he’d end up flooding his pants… or worse. If he wore a diaper that protected him fully, the bulge would be noticeable. He needed help and soon. There was only a day or so left of this convention, and he had no idea who Stella was. No way to reach out to her to reverse this condition.
As Klein stood next to the empty table, pondering his next move, he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. Klein quickly placed his hand on the back of his diaper, fearing that he had messed himself again without realizing it. Only a slight press told him there wasn’t a mess in the back of his diaper. He did feel a slight squish of wetness, however.
Klein turned around. A woman was standing there.
She had thick brown hair and wore a poofy dress. There was a pacifier clipped to her dress that dangled past her chest. The woman carried a stuffed rabbit with ginormous floppy ears. She looked like someone who came to these conventions and spent most of their time on the nursery level. While Stella reeked of adult, this woman was the definition of little space.
“Excuse me?” She said, her eyes wide and flickering over Klein’s outfit with a glance. Surely, that wasn’t judgment in her eyes, was it? “Have you seen Stella?”
Klein shook his head furiously. “No, and she better hope I don’t find her after what she did to me.”
“You too?” The woman took a step back. Klein could have sworn he saw her glance at his crotch for the second time in thirty seconds.
Klein shook his head but responded in the affirmative. “What’s wrong with you?”
The woman blushed, tugging at the sleeves of her dress and tilting slightly to the left. “It’s my own fault really.” She glanced around the vendor space for a moment as if she expected Stella to burst into the room at any second. But nothing happened. Instead, she grabbed Klein’s hand. “We shouldn’t talk here. Come back to my room with me. We need to find Stella, I’m in trouble.”
***