The Best of Intentions, Chapter 5 (Patreon)

I thought I’d have a lot to think about when I went into my room, but as it turned out, there really wasn’t much to consider. She offered me an out - and if I sucked it up and took it, I might not be at risk of losing my home. Besides, I was already wearing a diaper and...I was probably already going to have to use it.

I shed my pants and t-shirt before pulling my socks off, putting them on the bed. I wondered what my life would look like when I came back into my room later to put these back on. Would I have been as shamed and humiliated as she hoped I would be? Likely.

I thought again of how there was a time when this would’ve been the ultimate fulfillment of a fantasy - complete humiliation at the hands of a gorgeous woman. But I think I always knew it worked differently in my fantasies than reality. In my fantasy, when the scenario was over, I got to go back to my normal life. I was living this actual life now - shamed and inconvenienced everyday. And when I went through with her final request, I didn’t just get to return to normalcy. Every time we’d look at each other from now on, we’d remember tonight.

I thought about the time she had changed my wet diaper. I knew I should’ve stopped things before they got that far. If nothing else, I should’ve stopped things in that moment. I still couldn’t believe I had been betrayed by my desires - though I was at least acutely aware that my refusal to believe it was why I hadn’t yet grown from this experience as much as I should have.

Here goes nothing.

I gripped the door handle and turned it, opening the door. I could see her in the living room, casually sitting on the couch while watching TV. As if it was any other night. She slowly glanced towards my bedroom door, the slightest of grins on her face. She could see, if nothing else, that I was shirtless. That was probably a good indication that this was happening.

Show time.

I dropped to my knees and leaned forward, landing on my hands. I took a deep breath and crawled forward. I’d have to navigate around the loveseat to get into the center of the living room, which was a surprisingly challenging distance to have to crawl - especially for someone who didn’t crawl very often. Regardless of how much I might have thought about it.

“Is that a little baby coming to visit me?” she said, her voice dripping with over-emoted pleasure. “Look at the crawling baby.”

I blushed furiously as I turned the final corner of the loveseat. She had already moved the coffee table from the center of the room, giving a pretty clear signal for where she expected me to be. I crawled to that spot, my hands feeling the spots in the rug indented by where the coffee table usually rested. For as surreal as I knew this would be, nothing prepared me for just how exposed and vulnerable I felt in this space now.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

“How does...what feel?” I realized that might be a silly question. I elaborated: “Which part?”

“Any of it. All of it. Are you feeling pathetic?”

“Yes…”

“Stick your thumb in your mouth.”

I did as she asked, shifting my weight to my left hand as I slowly raised my right hand to my face, sliding my thumb into my mouth. If I hadn’t felt pathetic before - and I did - this would’ve done it.  On my hand and knees, thumb in my mouth, only wearing a diaper. While she looked down at me and smiled.

“There you go. Now tell me again that you’re a pathetic baby.”

I started sliding the thumb out of my mouth to talk.

“No, no. Leave it in.”

“Imma pafebic baby,” I said through my thumb. My cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Very good.”

I stayed like this, waiting for her to say something more. Waiting for another command. Waiting for anything. Instead, she turned her attention back to the TV for a few minutes. I blankly looked ahead, watching her watch the screen as if this was just any other night and there wasn’t a big baby in her presence. I wanted to take my thumb out of my mouth and put some of my weight back onto it on the ground again, but I knew better. I’d wait.

“Well?” she finally asked, minutes later.

“Yeth?”

“How long do you think you’ll need to stay there like this?”

“Arenth you going thoo ave me...thit mythelth?” I asked, the best I could.

“Take your thumb out of your mouth,” she said, rolling her eyes. I suppose this was another point where the fantasy diverged from the reality. The dominant women in my stories rarely relented on their own requests. I put my hand down, easing the building stress in my left hand.

“Didn’t you want me to...uhm...use my diaper?”

“That’s not exactly what you said when your thumb was in your mouth,” she said.

“Didn’t you want me to shit myself?”

She continued staring down at me, but she didn’t react. She didn’t say anything. Was I supposed to say something else?

“You...you wanted me to shit in my diaper.”

Still nothing.

“You wanted me to fill my diaper. Shit my diaper. Poop my pants. Fill my diaper with shit. Poop myself in…”

“Alright, alright, I get the point,” she said with a laugh. “I know you’re eager to do this, but calm down a little.”

She made a fool of me again. Not the first time tonight, and certainly not the last. 

Prior to leaving my bedroom, I had this lingering fear that in the moment I wouldn’t be able to perform. I’d crawl out here, jump through whatever hoops she asked for, but when it came time to actually mess my diaper...I’d freeze up and be incapable of doing anything.

This couldn’t have been further from the truth. Not only did I feel like I could go at any moment, I felt like it was starting to get harder to hold it. Stress and pressure had never really been friends to my bowels, and this was especially brutal on me. 

“I...can go,” I said.

“I’m sorry?”

I wasn’t sure if she didn’t understand or if she didn’t hear me - so I quickly searched for the best way to communicate it. “I...well...whenever you’re ready. I’m going to mess my diaper.”

It was hard to explain her face at that moment. She didn’t look gleeful or excited. She looked kind of concerned, or uncertain. The reality hit me again - my humiliation counted for a lot, but at the end of the day, this wasn’t her kink. She probably didn’t have much interest in seeing a grown man shit his pants. Still, my humiliation clearly meant more to her than her comfort.

“Good,” she said. Her voice had softened a little. “Stay just like that. And I want you looking into my eyes while you do it.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

Honestly, I’m not even sure where the “ma’am” came from. It was this subconscious tick - some old memory or fantasy helplessly being triggered.

There’d be time for that later. I closed my eyes for a moment - only to remember that I needed to be staring at her. I looked up to her, sitting on the couch as she stared down at me. On my hands and knees. 

I felt like I was on the verge of exploding. With the slightest of pushes I knew everything would rush into my diaper. But with my eyes open, looking into her eyes, I struggled to find the strength to just push. 

“I’m waiting,” she said.

“I...I’m pushing…” I finally said. Time seemed to slow, and in that moment I found the ability to just release myself. Despite my eyes being locked on hers, I could barely focus on anything else besides my diaper. I didn’t expect to actually have to push much once I got started, but the sheer speed at which I actually filled my diaper astounded me. A violently loud torrent of mess flowed into my diaper. If I could feel it almost immediately sag between my legs, I wondered what her view was like.

After the initial deluge, I gave a few more small grunts, pushing out any remnants - but it was clear that I had emptied myself rather quickly and efficiently. There was nothing to do but wait for her reaction. So I stayed on my hands and knees, the smell of my now filthy diaper wafting to my nose, further humiliating me.

She, too, could already smell the damage and she brought a hand to her nose.

“That was a lot,” she said.

I nodded sheepishly.

“I mean...I don’t know what I expected it to be like. But I just watched your diaper, like...fill. I don’t even know what to say.”

I didn’t say anything.

“You smell terrible.”

I nodded.

“Go take a shower.”

“May I use the shower?”

“I’m telling you, go take a shower. Clean yourself up. Get that stinky diaper out of here.”

I leapt to my feet and wasted no time in running to my bedroom, grabbing a towel and charging to the bathroom. The door was unlocked. A relief. I entered, shutting and locking the door behind me.

For a few minutes I didn’t do anything. I stood in the bathroom, leaning against the closed door while I thought about everything that just happened. Her plan to humiliate me had worked. This hadn’t been some fulfilled fantasy. This was the execution of my dignity. I made a fool of her, and she had returned the favor tenfold. 

I wiped away a tear. Was having to look her in the eyes after this really any better than just moving out?

I turned the shower’s water on and while I waited for the water to warm to the right temperature, I ran down the back of my diaper, feeling the dense lump settling between my legs.

Fuck. I wished I wasn’t suddenly turned on.

I wondered if she’d ever know. Maybe here, in my darkest moment, I’d find the slightest bit of pleasure. I lowered the toilet seat lid and sat on top of it - my disgusting mess spreading within my diaper anywhere that it could. My cock grew, and my hand entered the front of my diaper to meet it.

I let the shower run a few extra minutes while I pleasured myself in my dirty diaper.

Not that much longer after, the bathroom door opened and I emerged. A towel wrapped around my waist, and my obliterated diaper wrapped up tightly in my hand. She sat on the couch - in the same place I was when I had gone in the bathroom.

“The door won’t be locked anymore,” she said.

“Th-thank you,” I said nervously. I wondered if she knew about what I did in the bathroom.

“Why don’t you put some clothes on and come back out here?”

“Yeah, okay.” 

Once in my room, instinct brought me to my closet where I started reaching for a diaper. I stopped myself and pulled some boxers from my dresser instead. It had been a while, and wearing clothes without the added bulk between my legs seemed more foreign to me now than it should’ve.

I got dressed, triple bagged my diaper, and returned to the living room, taking a seat on the loveseat.

“We’re even now,” she said.

“I guess.”

“Are you okay?”

“I...I’m just processing everything,” I admitted. Despite finding the time to masturbate, I hadn’t ever shaken the shame I was feeling. In fact, it had only seemed to be amplified since then.

“Things got a little out of hand,” she admitted.

“I started it,” I said. “I’m not incontinent. I’ve never needed diapers.”

“I know,” she said.

“I guess...I just needed to say that again. I’m an asshole.”

She bit her lip and sighed. She wanted to say something, but she was holding back. I waited, not wanting to pressure her to say anything she didn’t want to say. I wondered what was on her mind. Did she still want me to move out? Did she know about what I did in the bathroom?

“I need to tell you something,” she finally said.

“Okay.”

“I’m an asshole too.”

“No...no. You were just trying to be helpful and I took advantage of you. I don’t blame you for wanting to see me humiliated.”

“No...I mean… I was an asshole before all that.”

“What do you mean?”

“That day you got your diapers delivered and I saw them? I brought them to your room...but I also...took a look around.”

I tilted my head. I sort of knew what she meant, but I was still putting together the pieces.

“I went into your closet,” she continued. “I saw everything. The pacifiers, the ‘adult baby’ DVDs. The onesie. I’m not an idiot. I put it all together, like, immediately.”

“So then…”

“I didn’t think you were going to lie to me. I thought that I’d bring it up, you’d admit to having a fetish, and we’d laugh about it. I would’ve probably told you that I liked being choked and tied up. That would’ve been it.”

“But you told me about your younger brother and…”

“Some of that’s true. Maybe I exaggerated a few parts. I guess...just like you kept lying to me and digging yourself deeper into a hole, I kept pushing you - hoping to break you.”

“The punishment? Me shitting my diaper in front of you?”

“All for my amusement,” she said. She looked a little ashamed herself. “Things...got out of control.”

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. My emotions were all over the place as I cycled through shame, anger, sadness, and even just finding the whole thing kind of funny. I was tempted to get up and go into my room, locking myself in for a month or two.

“What if we started over?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“You’re an asshole. But I’m an asshole too. Maybe that’s where we start off this time?”

She stood up and took a few steps towards me, her hand outstretched. I laughed and shrugged. Why not? I stood too, taking her hand in mine.

We shook hands. It was nice to finally get to know each other.