Hey Daddy, Part 2 of 2 (Patreon)

Everything had gone white for a minute there. The world just faded from view, leaving me in a state somewhere between complete bliss and complete safety. When I returned to reality, I found that I was still on Daddy’s lap. The diaper I wore was completely soaked - the once loose and pillowy garment had become dense and soggy. It felt heavier on my skin and thicker between my legs.

I didn’t even realize that his hand had been on my diaper, stuck between my legs, the entire time. He had felt everything.

I wasn’t ashamed. In fact, I felt proud of myself.

He gave me a playful bounce on his knees - recalling a simple joy I hadn’t known since I was an actual little boy on my own father’s lap. I giggled.

“You really soaked yourself, huh?”

I nodded.

“I don’t want to change you just yet.”

“Okay.” He could leave me in this thing for a year, for all I cared.

“Why don’t you give me a little show,” he said. “Show me how of a baby you are.”

His instructions were vague, but it didn’t matter. There was so much I could do right now that my brain could barely even keep up with it.

I slid off of his lap, landing on my knees. I bent myself over, my elbows landing on the ground in front of me. I started crawling away from him, being sure to keep my soggy diaper as high in the air as I could, so that he could watch it sway back and forth as I moved.

I did a lap around the room, circling my coffee table and crawling all the way over to the bookshelf near the front door before haphazardly toddlering my way back to his feet.

“Very good,” he said.

I didn’t want to wait for more instructions. I was a baby. I did what I wanted, and I did it when I wanted to.

I propped myself up on just my knees again, positioning myself between his legs as he sat on my sofa. I pawed at the front of his pants until I had them unbuttoned and unzipped. I didn’t have to dig too far to get to his cock. It had already been rock hard and practically busting out of his pants. I fished the shaft out of his boxers, finally admiring it in my hands when it was exposed to the air.

“What are you going to do with that?” he asked.

“I’m thirsty, Daddy.”

His hand reached forward, and the back of his fingers stroked the side of my face. I wondered if he’d say something; something humiliating or belittling. I would’ve liked that. Yet, he didn’t, and I found this silence to be an even stronger statement. I was making my own humiliation.

My mouth came down on him, and his hand reached behind my head, grasping the back of it. He didn’t push my face further down his shaft, and he barely even guided me as my wet mouth - dripping and sloppy - shifted up and down him. It was just there; a constant presence and reminder.

I wondered what else I could do. What would be the dirtiest, filthiest, most humiliating thing I could do while sucked him off in a sopping wet diaper. I had an idea - the other thing I could do in my diaper. Surprisingly, though maybe not so much at this point, I had very little hesitation about it. I didn’t care how dirty - how disgusting - it was. I’d be happy to do it. I already knew Daddy was onboard with it.

What was the worst case scenario? I took a shower?

I lifted my diapered ass up from where it rested on the back of my legs, forcing his cock deeper down my throat. I gagged a little, but quickly acclimated. I could sense that Daddy knew something was up. I wondered if he knew what I was thinking, or if he was just happy to be enjoying the ride - taking it as it came.

Obviously, I had never done anything like this before. I worried that my body wouldn’t allow for it. I’d be at the wrong angle, or I just wasn’t ready to do such a thing. Or, maybe, my body would just revolt and double-down on its most basic programming. There’s only one place we do that sort of thing, buddy, and this ain’t it.

I pushed. An audible grunt, a drowning blurb of somesort, escaped my mouth as his cock filled the rest of it. Almost immediately I could sense he knew what was happening.

“Are you…”

I looked up at him from my pathetic vantage point. The look in my eyes - surely a blend of naughty curiosity and humiliating despair - said more than any other answer I could’ve given.

He chuckled and nodded, moaning softly. “That’s very naughty.”

I certainly didn’t need any approval, but that felt pretty good and reassuring to me.

I pushed again, to little result. I could feel some churning in my belly, and I knew that there was something there that I could probably get out if I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure how hard I’d have to work for it.

I was doing two things at once now. My mouth continued to work his cock. His moans were getting louder and more frequent. His body was tensing. I wondered how much longer he had before he’d blow. Meanwhile, I was gently pushing on my bowels, hoping I could fill my diaper before he filled my mouth. My body was feeling like a machine, sucking and pushing. I was finding a rhythm, and it seemed to be working well on both ends. Daddy seemed happy. I could feel things in my guts moving along now.

Moments before it happened, my expectation was that it would be slow and gradual, much like the process that lead to me being ready to release into the diaper. Instead, it was immediate and forceful. A quick and loud FWOMP as my bowels evacuated and a heavy mass dropped into the back of the diaper. The diaper sagged considerably more, and I felt it pull on the waistband.

The sound of it, a symphony of crinkling, muffled grunts and humiliatingly sharp blurts from my ass, had likely been more than enough to announce what I had just done. Yet, only seconds later, an even stronger statement would be made as the scent of my dirty deed rolled across my face.

I looked up at Daddy, continuing to bounce my wet mouth on his cock, and I could see the exact moment my stinky bottom struck his nose too. There was no regret, nor any disgust. His eyes narrowed, he looked into the sky, and his body tensed completely. His cock blasted a thick load into my mouth. I could barely contain both it and the cock itself, and I felt some escape, leaking out the sides of my mouth and dribbling down my chin. I slowly slid my mouth from him, leaving a slimy and glossy shaft in my wake, before swallowing the rest of my mouthful.

I stayed exactly where I was. I was terrified of moving at all, unable to predict how the loaded diaper would react.

The longer we sat in silence, the more I began to doubt myself and what I had just done. Had I pushed things too far? Had I gone from disgustingly adorable to just disgusting? I wanted him to say something; anything.

“You are, by far,” he said, speaking slowly as to build suspense, “the stinkiest, most disgusting, little baby.”

A new wave of humiliation washes over me.

“I...I’m sorry…”

“For what?” he asks with a grin. “Isn’t that exactly what you wanted to be?”

Some of the panic and stress in my body starts to subside a little. I look up into his eyes, and his soft smile is all the reassurance I need. I nod.

He pats his lap. “Come back up here.”

“But…”

“But what? Daddy asked you to come back up and sit on my lap.”

“My diaper. It’s… I…”

He tilts his head. He knows damn well what I’m trying to say, but he feigns ignorance. “You what?”

“I...pooped my pants. I messed my diaper, Daddy.”

“Yes, I know.” He waved a hand in front of his face in an exaggerated way. “Believe me, I know.”

“But if I sit on your lap, it’ll…”

“That’s what your diaper is for, isn’t it? It holds all those dirty little things that babies do. I’m not worried about getting any of it on my lap.”

“But it’s going to...squish. All over me.”

“I’m surprised a naughty little baby boy like you would even care about a thing like that. Are you going to make me ask again? I’m not above hoisting you over my knees and paddling your dirty bottom.”

I felt pangs of desire in my chest. Oh fuck, don’t tempt me with that. I want that. I wanted those mighty hands - the dry cracked skin of hands that knew labor and work - on me. I wanted them to beat on my filthy diaper mercilessly.

Later. There would eventually be time for all of these things.

I stood up and slowly sat back down again on his lap. My ass slowly lowered onto his legs as I began a careful descent - only for him to grab me by the waist and just forcefully shove me down into place. The thick gooey mass spread everywhere in the diaper, filling up every available space.

“Was that so bad?”

I shook my head. Not only was it not bad, but it was amazing. Absolutely disgusting and deplorable, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

His big hands were on my diaper again, and he quickly found my own stiff member as it tented out the front of the soggy dirty diaper. He ran his hand down it, summoning a moan from my throat.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Should I make you cream your filthy pampers? While you sit in Daddy’s lap?”

I nodded.

“Oh, come now,” he teased. “You can do better than that. Don’t you want to tell me all about the dirty dirty things you want?”

He was stroking the front of my diaper again. He was bouncing his legs a little now, jostling me and my full diaper up and down with them.

I was torn. What dignity was there left to lose? Yet, hadn’t I already said enough?

I already knew which would win.

“Rub me in my dirty diaper, Daddy,” I cooed. “Make me come all over myself. ...In my diaper. In my dirty stinky diaper.”

“How does it feel in there?” he asked, swatting my backside with his other hefty hand. With a loud THWACK, I could feel some of my diapers’ contents further squishing about.

“G-good…”

“You’re Daddy’s dirty little boy, hmm?”

“Yes.”

His legs were bouncing harder, tossing me up and down in his lap. One hand continued to stroke the front of the diaper while the other kept me in place on his lap while simultaneously caressing my backside. Once again, I felt like I was in a machine. Everything found its rhythm, and I was the mercy of his unyielding motions. I wished I had more to say, especially as I felt myself on the edge of climax. But all I could offer was a staccato moan that increased in volume until it reached its apex - a high pitched pathetic whine.

“I’m going to assume this is it, right now,” he said calmly, feeling me twitch and shudder. “Your little cock just spilling into your full messy diaper. Does that feel good? Being reduced to a smelly little diaper baby and then being made to get off on it?”

“Yes...yes…”

His legs stopped shaking and his hands moved to my hips, where they only acted to hold me in place now. I was grateful for his patience as I slowly came back down again from the seemingly insurmountable highs I had just reached. Bashfully, I glanced to him once or twice. He only smiled back. There was no sign of disgust or regret.

Which was good, because I wasn’t feeling any myself.

“Thank you,” I finally said, breaking the silence. It felt like it had been two hours since either of us had made a sound, though it may have actually been closer to two minutes.

“Don’t thank me,” he said, his hand now gently rubbing my back. “That was my pleasure.”

I giggled - it was the silliest, most infantile little noise I could’ve made.

“I’ll thank you again later,” I said, my sassy spirit slowly returning. “You’ll have earned it when you’re left having to change this diaper.”

“Hrm,” he muttered. He took a deep breath through his nose - seemingly scanning the air quality around me again.

“It’d be best if we took care of that sooner than later. Your neighbors are going to think someone died in here soon.”

“It’s not that bad…”

He shook his head while patting mine condescendingly. I blushed again, receiving the signal loud and clear that I was smelling far from fresh.

“What do you have in terms of baby care?” he asked. “You have more diapers. What about wipes? Baby powder?”

This morning, I woke up in a world where I had never even considered wearing a diaper before. I had certainly not considered these things.

I shook my head.

“What am I supposed to do with you? Drag you outside and hose you off?”

“That’d be a sight.”

“I’d say you ought to stay in that diaper until we get some more supplies, but I don’t think that’d be fair to anyone else in the neighborhood.”

“I get it, I get it. I’m a baby. I made a stinky in my diaper. I smell bad. Yes, yes.”

“I’ll put you over my knees…” he threatened.

I shrugged playfully.

“Why don’t you go take a shower,” he said. “I’ll go to the store and grab some things.”

“I don’t know about that, actually,”

“Why?”

“I’m just a baby,” I shrugged. “A...shower? Seems beyond my skill set.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Alright fine. I’ll help you with that.”

“You could always run me a bath…”

He gave my diaper a playful slap. “With this dirty behind? You’d just be stewing in your own mess.”

His hands effortlessly lifted me from his lap, and he put me back on my feet again. The front of my diaper, soaked and heavy, immediately sagged down from my crotch. The back of the diaper remained tightly plastered to my ass.

“Let’s go. Show me where the bathroom is.”

“But…”

He sighed, opting to instead hoist me off the ground and throw me over his shoulders. I had never been manhandled like this. Even having a decent idea of his burly strength, this came as a pleasant surprise. “I’ll find the bathroom myself.”

It wasn’t hard to find, taking up a rather obvious space off of the hallway between my living room and bedroom. Immediately after setting me down he began running water, and turned the showerhead on. Turning back to me, he unbuttoned my shirt and removed it before pulling my undershirt over my head. It felt tiresome to attach such a juvenile feeling to every single new experience, but he had once again managed to make me feel like a true little boy again.

He grasped one of the diaper’s tapes and gave it a firm tug. I could feel the tension loosening throughout it. It sagged a little more. He repeated this with the top tape of the opposite side. However, after loosening the first of the bottom tapes, the weight of the diaper proved to be too much and the full garment slipped down my legs, landing on the ground with a thick SPLAT.

“What’s this?” he asked, playfully tapping my erection. I wasn’t even sure myself if it had just never gone away after my time on his lap, or if I was just already back in the game and ready to go.

“You...can just ignore that.”

“Ignore this? Baby, you’ve got a messy diaper wrapped around your ankles. You know, the one you pissed in? Pooed in? Came in? You can’t see yourself, but I’m looking right at you, and your backside is absolutely covered - coated - in stinky brown sludge. And yet - and yet - you ask me to just ignore the fact that you’re sporting a brand new stiffy?”

I shrugged. “Yes? Maybe?”

“Get in the shower.”

I stepped out of the diaper, looking down at the disaster I had created for the first time. I audibly gasped, and my pace quickened into the hot water of the shower.

“Are you going to sponge me off, Daddy?”

“I’m going to dispose of this diaper first. Do you have a flamethrower, by chance?”

“Should be one in the closet,” I teased.

I made no movements in the shower, I just let the hot water rinse over me. Occasionally, I’d look down and see the water was streaked with brown as it ran between my body and the drain. Somewhere on the other side of the shower curtain, the crinkling of the exploded diaper and the rustling of plastic bags. I smiled.

I closed my eyes, letting the sound and feeling of the water put me into a trance.

I was at the coffee shop again, watching Karl move through the crowd. We made eye contact and he was talking to me now. Now his cock was down my throat. I was in a store now, buying boys underpants. Now the underpants were literally tearing at the seams as readied my ass to fuck. I was meeting Caleb in a parking lot now, and he was handing me diapers. I was on Daddy’s lap now. Big strong arms around me and…

There really were big arms around me. I opened my eyes to find that his arms actually were around me in the shower. He was in the shower too, completely nude.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello Baby. Did I interrupt something?”

“Just my entire life.”

He laughed.

“It’s a good thing,” I said, not sure if it was necessary to say or not.

“You’re fun,” he said.

“I know.”

“You’re dirty.”

“Still?”

“Some things don’t wash away,” he grinned.

My hands found his cock, already rock hard. I pressed against him tightly, and he held me close, arching his head down to kiss me on the top of the head.

“Is this our life?” I asked. “Fucking each other and shitting in diapers until you leave?”

“Would it be so bad if it was?”

“I’m just making sure.”

“Speaking of which,” he said, “we’re behind schedule.”

“Hm?”

“Turn around.”

I did as he asked without hesitation, feeling his hands grip my sides as the tip of his cock pressed against my tender asshole.

Later, we laid in my bed together, still a little damp and a lot exhausted. We were both completely naked. He had grabbed another diaper after the shower, but it had never come to fruition. Nothing had ever felt so safe and secure, and I soon fell asleep in his arms.

I woke to the smell of food cooking. I had no idea what time it even was. The sun was out. Still out? Or was this a new sun? I looked at the clock. A little after 9 AM. That was a loooong sleep.

I rolled onto my side, ready to dwell on my last memories of the day before, but the process was interrupted by, simultaneously, a heavy crinkling noise under the covers, and a telltale thickness between my legs. I flung the sheets off, revealing that I was back in a diaper again. Sonofagun. I had no recollection of when that happened, but I was disappointed I had missed it.

I took in another long sniff. Bacon? Eggs? I didn’t even know I had those things. But there was something else in the air. Fainter, but maybe...closer than the food was? It was vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place it. When a few moments of trying to identify it failed, I gave up and sat up in the bed. A new fresh burst of the scent filled my immediate area. Now, exposed to a better sample of it, I knew what it was. Baby powder. He had filled my new diaper with baby powder.

I know I didn’t have baby powder.

I slid from the bed, grabbing a t-shirt off the ground and putting it on. It felt like enough clothing, though it did nothing to conceal the thick padding of the Safari. Oh well.

I almost walked into the bathroom for my morning piss, realizing at the last second that I was already wearing my bathroom. I just brushed my teeth instead, debating on whether or not I just went ahead and soaked this diaper while I did so.

I decided I would. Why not? My diaper was thoroughly saturated by the time I made it to the kitchen.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked bacon and eggs,” he said, his back to me as he cooked on the stove. It was good for the stove to be getting some action. I certainly never used it.

“Of course I do,” I said.

“Regardless, it didn’t stop me from making them. I went to the store this morning and got a few things.”

I patted my diaper, the plastic crinkle ringing through the kitchen. “Yeah, it seems like you had a pretty busy morning.”

“Oh, you noticed?”

“It was hard to miss…”

“You were like a little rag doll. It was adorable.”

I blushed, imagining him manhandling me in my sleep so he could coat me in baby powder and seal me in a new thick diaper. “Well. The day is off to a good start.”

“What’s on your agenda today, Baby?”

He opened and closed cabinet doors, looking for something. I probably could’ve helped him, but I liked just watching him. Always so calm. So methodical. He finally found what he was looking for - plates. He set them on the counter, splitting the hot food between them. I quickly scurried to my small table, taking a seat so that he couldn’t see I had already wet myself. I wanted him to see it, but I also wanted to enjoy this moment without it being about my diaper.

“I have a class later,” I said. “I’d skip it, but…I skipped yesterday’s classes. I suppose I should show up for this one.”

“Do you plan on showing up to class in your diaper?” he asked.

“I hadn’t thought about it. But I imagine I’d wear some pants over them if I did.”

“I think that’s wise,” he said, delivering a plate in front of me on the table. Bacon and scrambled eggs. Nothing fancy. But I liked that he made it for me.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I’m behind schedule at the studio,” he said. “I’m working on some pieces on commission. Deadlines are looming. I’ve been...distracted.”

I shrugged as I shoveled some eggs into my mouth.

“Maybe we play together again tonight?”

“Thahts ah lawng wayth awayth,” I said with my mouth full.

“Chew your food, Baby,” he teased. “I should’ve bought a bib for you while I was out.”

I blushed. I didn’t think I needed one, but I probably didn’t need a diaper either. I swallowed my food. “Tonight? Not sooner?” I was whining. Unbecoming, but maybe true to my new lot in life.

“It’s not going to do either of us any good if we put the rest of our lives on hold.”

He was right, but it didn’t stop me from pouting.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, reaching across the table and stroking my cheek. “We’ll have plenty of fun tonight.”

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime, hmm?”

He cocked his head. “Besides...go to your class and do whatever else you do in a normal day?”

“With my diaper, Dad-dee,” I said, putting a comical and sarcastic emphasis on his title. “Am I just supposed to fill it up all day and wait for you to change it?”

I could see him mulling it over. It did seem like a lot to ask. “Would you do that if I asked you to?”

“Of course.” Zero hesitation.

“Then so be it. But I don’t want to get some sort of distress call from you this afternoon because you’ve sprung a leak in your diaper in the middle of class.”

“A distress call? Or photos?”

I had forgotten the predicament I had put myself in earlier, and I stood up, collecting our plates to bring to the sink. He saw it immediately.

“What is that?”

“What is...what?” I obviously knew what he was referring to. And I knew he knew that I knew; god knows my cheeks had to be bright red.

“Put the dishes in the sink and come here.” he said. He commanded.

I did so, taking my time to the sink so he’d have a good view of my soggy bottom as I walked away from him. Then, I walked up to him. His had was on the front of my diaper, feeling and squeezing the sodden garment. It slid between my legs, feeling how much it sagged.

“I’ll change you. But I’m not going to do anything about this,” he said, tapping my swollen lump in the front of the diaper.

I pouted again, but he was impervious to such patheticness. He led me back to the bedroom where he gave me a through-yet-efficient diaper change. He had wipes now, and he took great care in cleaning every nook. More baby powder. Fresh diaper.

“I’m going to go to class smelling like an infant,” I complained.

“So?”

I shrugged.

“If anyone asks, just tell them that Daddy didn’t want you to get a diaper rash.”

I was blushing again.

“Do you think you could leave this diaper on?” he asked. “Until tonight?”

“But what if…”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll have made it very heavy by the time I see it again. But it gives me something to look forward to.”

I had already assumed that I’d just leave the same diaper on all day until I saw him again. But I liked it better having been asked to.

It wasn’t much longer after that and he was gone. Having seen him so much the day before - minus the time spent acquiring diapers - I found myself already quite smitten with his presence. It felt stupid and embarassing to miss him, but I did anyways.

Class was the adventure that I thought it’d be. It was a small group, and it wasn’t so much a traditional classroom setting as much as it was a discussion and peer review of each other’s writing projects. I had become hyper-aware of my diaper. I could hear every crinkle with each movement I made. Certain motions would release another small burst of baby powder. As I sat near people, having involved discussions, I worried if they could hear or smell anything suspicious.

To their credit, nobody gave any signal that they were suspicious of my undergarments. I wondered, of course - fantasized, even - about being caught or discovered. From a scenario as mundane as someone sitting next to me curiously sniffing at the air, to the less likely scene where I was forced to stand before the class with my pants down around my ankles while everyone pointed and laughed at “Potty Pants.”

I had no idea I harbored such fantasies.

My non-stop fixation on the diaper in my pants eased as the day went on, thankfully. Increasingly small chunks of time would pass by before I paused and remembered that I was actually a little baby. It was sometimes embarrassing. It was always arousing.

Truthfully, I could’ve probably soaked my diaper less than an hour after Daddy left me to my own devices. I kept putting it off, feeling the pressure build a little more every time it came to reevaluate my desperation. Walking down the street on my way back to my apartment, it had finally reached a fever pitch and I relented.

It felt amazing. Not just a relief for my bladder, but just the feeling of my diaper growing warm and wet around my midsection as I walked down the street couldn’t be beat. There were other folks out and about, walking right past me, who had no idea what was happening. I wanted to tell them. Hey! Look at me! I’m wearing a diaper right now. And I’m pissing in it. And you know what? I fucking love it.

It was so thrilling. Overstimulating, really. And I was expected to just stay like this until tonight? Sit around in my wet diaper while waiting for Daddy to come change me? I wanted to show him what I had done. I wanted his hands on me, and on my diaper.

I took a turn when I normally wouldn’t have if I was going home. I decided to go visit him in the studio. I knew he asked me not to. I knew he said he needed time to do his work. But...one day, sooner than later, he’d be back in the Pacific Northwest and I wouldn’t. And I’d regret these little moments where I could see him for one more minute.

My pace increased. My soggy diaper squished back and forth. I felt myself dribbling into it again. I couldn’t have been more excited to show him what I had done.

The studio door was locked. Maybe he wasn’t there - though I felt as if he had said, or implied, that he was going to be there working. I was about to knock, but stopped myself just before my knuckles rapped on the door. Take this as a sign. Turn around. Go home.

I heard music playing on the other side of the door. I sighed. What did he look like when he was on his own? Did he wistfully stare into his art, daydreaming of his big baby? I scrambled to one of the windows and looked in. I saw some pieces of wood and various tools sitting on a workbench. No Daddy.

I moved to the next window. A plaid shirt draped over a chair. The shirt he was wearing this morning at my apartment. Working topless? Daddy, I must see this.

I hurdled some broken crates and busted glass in an alley and went to the next window.

Well, she looked familiar. I couldn’t remember her name. The reporter I met yesterday. A student herself? Tabitha? She was putting her shirt back on. Why was her shirt off?

I sighed, seeing Daddy, no - Karl, walking around in just his underwear. His pants were gone - maybe not far from where I saw his shirt hanging on the back of the chair.

I slowly walked back home. I thought I’d be angry - but I wasn’t. We weren’t in a relationship - we had just met. The time we had spent together so far was built on just the idea of fun and playing. He could do whatever he wanted, with whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

This didn’t stop me from feeling stupid though. I had taken a running leap into a strange new world that was foreign to me - just to charm him. It had worked, and maybe I had enjoyed myself along the way, but it had been for him. The amount of dignity I had casually discarded. The vulnerability I gave him. And what work did he do?

I wasn’t upset.

No, I was upset.

No, I wasn’t.

I had no idea what to think or feel. By the time I made it back to my apartment, I could barely process anything at all.

I made a call.

“Are you out of diapers already?” It was Caleb. The same local baby who graciously delivered on my rapid need for diapers yesterday.

“Actually, I had something else I was in need of.”

I offered my apartment, but he insisted I come see him. He had more things. I was there in the next half hour, still sporting my soggy diaper.

“What happened to ‘striking while the iron’s hot,’?” he asked after inviting me in. I was surprised that he remembered what I said the last time we met.

“The iron had...many...anvils.” I shrugged, unsure if my analogy made sense to me, let alone anyone else.

“And so where do I come in?” Caleb asked, flashing that trademark smug smile I remembered so clearly.

I didn’t even know. What was I looking for here? What did I want to come out of this?

“My diaper is wet. I’m lonely. I’m angry at someone...I think. You’re a big baby. I don’t know. Play with me.”

He nodded and shrugged. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Please,” I replied. “Anything.”

He wandered into his kitchen, and I took a minute to look around his living room. I wondered if this was closer to what Karl had imagined my apartment looking like. Posters on the wall of characters from, I assume, video games and movies I was unfamiliar with. CDs and DVDs in little stacks on the floor. Video game controllers and some discarded clothes.

“Here you go,” he said - his smugness saturating even the words he said to me.

Whatever it was - it was in a baby bottle. He had one too.

I laughed and shook my head.

“Milk,” he said. “Well...a more adult version of milk. I hope you like white russians.”

I put the bottle’s nipple into my mouth, finding that I had to suck a little harder than I expected to to draw the liquid into my mouth. The cheap vodka burned.

“This will do nicely,” I said.

“So tell me about your diaper,” he said. “Wet?”

I nodded, suckling the burning-sweet nectars inside the bottle.

“Me too. Actually, I had just changed before I got your call. But...I had been wearing that one for a while. It was probably for the best I changed out of it. Of course, as soon as I put this one on, I’m ready to go again. And, like, it wasn’t just a little either, it was like this whole long...”

There wasn’t much about Caleb I liked. I didn’t think he was especially handsome. I didn’t get the boyish obsession with things like video games and plastic models of swords. I didn’t like his smile. When he talked, I heard a lot of white noise.

But this bottle was good. And I wanted some hands on my diaper again. Anyone’s. Even his.

“...if you wanted. But it’s cool if you don’t. I don’t know how I feel about it, honestly,” he continued. I wasn’t even sure what he was talking about now. “Sometimes I like it, and sometimes I really hate it. Like, last week? I had to go to the bank, you know? And…”

I concentrated on the bottle. I sucked out every single drop. On my empty stomach, I could feel it working on me almost immediately. It was likely all in my head - but I just felt this calming wave sweep over me.

I put the bottle down and stepped a little closer to him. He seemed oblivious. The more he talked, the closer I got. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to do when I got to wherever I was going.

“...but that was fine because I still had…” his voice trailed off, finally realizing I had gotten very close to him.

“Am I too close?”

“I...I’m not gay,” he said. It didn’t sound like a rebuke as much as it did an apology.

“I won’t tell the other boys.”

He laughed. “Can I see your diaper?”

With no hesitation I pulled down my pants, revealing my diaper. Sagging and wet, the bottom surely stained to an off-white.

He reached under me, cupping the saggy bottom of the diaper, weighing its heft in his hand.

“Almost as wet as mine,” he said.

“Show me.”

As quickly as I had peeled off my pants, his came down too. His diaper, pink with little cartoon princesses and unicorns on it, didn’t have a color that gave away the status of it away as quickly as mine. But I grabbed the front of his diaper, feeling the same heavy squishiness mine had. He was also sporting some firmness in that diaper.

His hand tightened on the front of my diaper, as mine did on his.

“Wh-what do you want to do?” he asked. For the first time, his smug smile was gone. It was hard to pin down what he was displaying now. Lust, mostly, with a dose of nervousness. I could sense that he finally caught the car he had always been chasing - and now he needed to figure out what to do with it.

“Kiss me?”

He leaned towards me as I leaned towards him. Our wet lips met, but when mine zigged - his zagged. My tongue - usually my secret weapon in the mouths of boys curious in “experimenting” - was deflected by a wayward cheek and skated across his face instead.

It was the least sexy scene ever.

“What about...something else?” I asked.

“Like what?”

I stroked the front of his diaper. The same way that Daddy - Karl - had done to me. He moaned softly. This seemed much more his speed. His eyes closed while I rubbed his diaper, and he let out a near-constant string of grunts and moans.

Maybe he was feeling this, but I needed more. I needed to feel small. I needed to feel pathetic.

“May I...suck your cock?”

He nodded slowly, backing up until he reached his loveseat. He collapsed into it.

“I’m wet,” he said.

“I know this already.”

“It’s just...it’s going to be wet when you…”

“I know.”

Clearly, he was okay with me leading the way on this. He leaned back and reached into his diaper, pulling out his firm cock. It was smaller than Karl’s. Smaller than mine. The smallest I may have ever seen, really. I didn’t really care - I just wanted a cock.

I didn’t waste any time consuming it, my mouth wrapping around it. I imagined - I tried to imagine - that it was Karl’s again. It didn’t work. It was the wrong size. The wrong shape. The wrong mouth-feel - which was apparently a thing, just a thing I hadn’t noticed before. And when I realized that I couldn’t pretend it was Karl’s, I began to lose steam. What was I doing, and just who was I doing it with.

Caleb seemed so nonplussed by the lack of effort on his part to get someone between his legs that he didn’t seem to notice my diminishing motivation.

I needed a new angle. Why was this hot? Why did I need this?

Well, wasn’t it obvious? I had been reduced to a diaper-filling infant at the drop of a hat. A baby so obsessed with being used and reminded of his status as said baby that he’d go far out of his way to suck the cock of...Caleb. All in an effort to feel as pathetic and miniscule as I did at the hands’ of Daddy. Karl.

God, that was working. I was a pathetic little diaper-wearing baby, so lowly and desperate that I was now sucking off this goober.

“Oh...yeah…” Caleb moaned, with either impeccable timing, or limited telepathy.

Suck him off. Make him happy. Get him off at your expense. This is what you deserve. Was this what I deserved? I might have lost the plot a little.

“Gonna...ugh…” he mumbled, his body tensing. He was going to blow. Where did I want to be when that happened?

A million miles from here, honestly.

I slid my mouth off him at the last second, as he spurted into the air, little creamy blops landing across his diaper and belly.

I wondered if it was good or if he was satisfied. I looked at his face, where a dopey smile was drawn between his closed eyes.

I was curious to see if he was the type to reciprocate.

“Thank you for coming over,” he said, his hands tucking behind his head as he stretched out on the couch. “I’m glad you did.”

I laughed.

“Wh-what?” he asked, opening one eye.

“Is that...it?”

He shrugged. “Wanna play Madden?”

I barely knew what a Madden was. Oh Caleb. Probably an absolute superstar with the ladies.

I either missed Karl or I regretted my spontaneous immersion into diapers. I couldn’t decide which was bumming me out more, but I was bummed nonetheless.

“I might head out actually.”

“What? You just got here, didn’t you?”

“It’s not you,” I lied. “I just...need to clear my head.”

“You’re welcome to come back anytime,” he said. It was the return of the smug smile. Smug Smile 2.0, now with the added satisfaction of having been sucked off by me. “I could come see you too.”

If nothing else, maybe it was a small victory for the further proliferation of The Gay. Though I’d now feel bad for both the women AND men he’d disappoint in his future.

“We’ll see.” Translation: please lose my number. He wouldn’t read it that way, of course.

I looked at my phone for the first time since getting to Caleb’s. A bunch of missed calls from Karl. A text message: Hey...were you at the studio?

I didn’t realize I had been seen. It didn’t matter. By now he probably had a pretty good idea of why I hadn’t called him back.

This was the make or break moment, wasn’t it? Years of books and film taught me that now - after our misunderstanding and the subsequent poor judgements made as a result of that misunderstanding - we’d connect again. Maybe we’d have it out and have a final quarrel. Or maybe we’d come back stronger than we’ve ever been. We’d have been better people as a result of the small journeys we had gone on.

Life is disappointing, sometimes.

What followed was nothing. He didn’t reach out to me. I didn’t reach out to him. A day passed. Three days passed. A week passed. I went to the studio space finally - intending to only walk past it, but I stopped and tried the door anyways. Locked tight. I didn’t try again.

The diapers - they stayed. It was an unexpected, yet welcome, change to my lifestyle. Nothing would ever match the feeling of his strong hands on me as held me in place on his lap, or when he looked down on me while I lay on my back so he could diaper me. But the further we got away from those few days, the less important they seemed. In a short time he had made me feel an incredible high. But when he tried, perhaps unconsciously, to pull the chair out from under me, it was too late. I was higher than ever. Sexy. Desirable. More confident. Stinkier at times, yes. But better.

I was never coming down.

Months later I’d spot the sign, almost accidentally, as I checked out some books at the library. A new exhibit at the museum. Eternal Youth: Surrealist Sculpture by Karl Adams.

Well fuck, of course I’d go.

I went four times. Everytime, I’d hoped to see him there, but it never happened. I was pretty sure he wasn’t even in town anymore. But on the fifth time, I heard his voice before I saw his face. He addressed a small audience of snobbish looking arty-types.

“...it represents youth, obviously,” he said. “But it’s more than that. It’s the past and future simultaneously. Endlessly repeating.”

I tuned out, waiting patiently for him to finish.

“A fan of the arts,” he teased, finally approaching me.

I rolled my eyes playfully.

“You’ve been well?”

“Yes,” I said. “And you?”

“Busy. But, you know...fine.” He shrugged.

“I can’t stay long,” I said. “My diaper is getting pretty full.”

He laughed and shook his head, but then he looked back into my eyes. “Oh...you’re serious?”

I nodded.

“You...still…?”

I nodded again.

Within the next hour, we were back at my apartment. Most of our clothes were spread out between the front door and my bed. My dirty diaper was around my knees, effectively binding my legs together. I was face down on the bed, while he was mounted atop me, his cock deep in my ass.

How long he’d be around, or how many other people he needed to screw while he was in town were questions I’d think of later. But for a few minutes, Daddy owned me. He could have anything he wanted.