Cul-de-Sac [Tier 3 Exclusive] (Patreon)

It was, up until that point, a completely normal day. Two cups of coffee in the morning. The brown bag lunch that Julia had packed for me. Idle chit-chat around the water cooler. Zoned out a little in the afternoon while listening to Buddy Miles on my headphones. Stopped by the gym after work for leg day–my least favorite day at the gym, honestly, but one that I try not to skip. And then, at last, I drove home with the AC/DC turned up.

It was when I had turned onto Magenta Lane–the street I lived on–that the smile on my face began to falter.

There was something on the road, and it looked kind of familiar. Had I seen it anywhere else, I probably would’ve identified it immediately. But the object didn’t belong here, and so my brain couldn’t quite process it.

I stopped anyway to investigate further. Seeing no other cars driving down the road, I didn’t bother pulling over. Instead, I put the car in park in the center of the road and leaped out to get a closer look at the object.

Yeah, it’s a diaper. A big adult diaper, and not one of those cheaply made garbage incontinence briefs that you buy at the grocery store. This is a thick, plastic-backed, diaper in a cute pink color. Fresh from the pack and unused. Probably not the sort of thing that someone afflicted with incontinence would want to have to waddle around in public.

I picked it up and hustled back into the car. But before I could continue driving, I held the diaper in both hands, staring down at it as my heart pounded like a jackhammer.

See, I had diapers like this at home. Exactly like this. And so, as best as I can tell, there were only two possibilities: someone else in my neighborhood has diapers exactly like mine, or this was somehow one of my diapers.

And the latter just didn’t make any sense to me. I’ve never brought diapers outside of the house before. They’re delivered to my house, and that’s where they’ve stayed. Well…until they’re used and thrown into the trash. So this couldn’t have come from my own collection, I don’t think.

My car slowly lurches forward, and I progress down Magenta Lane towards the cul-de-sac that I live on. The logical part of my brain tells me that there’s nothing to worry about and that this is just a weird coincidence. A fluke. A glitch in the matrix. But the rest of my body is on high-alert. This chance discovery has shaken me, and I’m in desperate need of reassurance that this was, in fact, just a weird coincidental encounter.

But then I spotted another diaper in the road. No, two. Three.

I quickly pulled the car over and got out so that I could grab them. Two more pink diapers and one with a cutesy teddy bear print on it.

I’m now feeling less convinced that this is any sort of fluke. Because I, too, had diapers back at the house that have this exact teddy bear print on them.

“What the fuck…”

I collected the diapers and I returned to the car. My mind was racing as I tried to figure out how this could’ve happened. A tornado? Break-in? Did my house explode, scattering my diaper collection across the neighborhood?

There was another possibility rolling around the back of my head–one that would be the absolute worst case scenario.

Julia.

The cul-de-sac was in view now, at the end of the lane. But that wasn’t the only thing that was in view. There were diapers everywhere outside of the house. They were on the sidewalk. On the street. On our lawn. On the neighbors’ lawns. There might as well have been some sort of diaper explosion.

And it wasn’t just the diapers. Onesies were hanging from tree branches in front of my house. My bonnet was on the mailbox.

Worse, some of my neighbors were out of their houses, inspecting the disaster for themselves with confused looks on their faces. I quickly pulled into my parking spot, carefully avoiding some of the diapers in the path.

“Wh-what’s going on out here?” I asked my neighbor, Dawn, while trying to feign ignorance of where the diapers may have come from.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she said with a shrug. “Looks like a lot of diapers. But, like, big ones?”

From a yard away, my eyes caught Roy’s. He looked like he was waiting for me to show up, as he made a hasty trot in my direction.

“Hey,” he said.

“What’s up?” I asked–feeling pretty silly for asking such a stupid question. There’s a lot that’s up–including the objects hung from the trees in my yard.

“I was going to ask you the same thing, Danny,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dawn added. I had already forgotten that she was standing next to me. “What did you mean?”

“Well, I saw your wife dumping all this stuff all over the neighborhood.”

My worst fears had been confirmed.

“She’s, uhm, not my wife,” I said. Of all the things I could’ve said, this felt like the most trivial.

“Well, whatever she is, she’s throwing diapers all over the place. What’s that all about?” he asked.

I could certainly understand his frustration. It probably didn’t matter if it was garbage, uncooked spaghetti, or…diapers. Julia probably shouldn’t have been throwing anything on other people’s lawns.

“Look, I don’t know anything about this,” I said.

“Are you sure?” Dawn asked.

There was an implication in her tone, though I wasn’t completely sure what she was implying.

“I’ll see what’s going on here,” I said to both Dawn and Roy. Really, I was saying it for anyone who might have been listening. “And then, I promise, I’ll get all this stuff cleaned up and out of your way.”

“Hurry up,” Roy spat back. “I’ve got kids and I’m sure as hell not going to let them out to see whatever the fuck all this is.”

I’m momentarily stunned by his observation that all these items aren’t…normal. I don’t know if he sees them as sexual in purpose, but he can certainly sense that it’s something. Maybe it’s overwhelmingly obvious when looking at the hanging clothes with their oversized-toddler aesthetic.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll take care of this.”

I quickly hustled to the door and attempted to turn the knob. Locked. Fine. I quickly fished my keys out of my pocket and attempted to unlock the door. Yet my house key–the one I had used for the last three years–suddenly wasn’t fitting into the doorknob at all.

“What the fuck?”

I nervously turned around to look at my neighbors again. Roy was marching back to his house, kicking a stray diaper out of his path on the way. Dawn stood at the end of my sidewalk, watching me with an amused smile on her face.

I knocked on the door.

“Julia? Hello? The door is, uh, locked.”

There was no response. I took another quick look behind me. Roy seemed pissed. Dawn was smirking. Mr. Henderson was picking up a few diapers, looking at them while appearing to be very befuddled. Louisa was on her cellphone, perhaps trying to explain this situation to someone else.

From my other pocket, I took out my cell phone and quickly called Julia.

To my surprise, she answered right away. “Yes?”

“Julia. What’s…going on?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

I took a look around, once again witnessing my cul-de-sac’s gruesome transformation into an adult baby wasteland.

“I…can’t say that it is,” I responded.

“Well,” she said, “I found all your little baby things.”

“Clearly.”

“Which, I hope you know, I wasn’t mad about in itself, you know? You can dress up like fucking Batman in your own personal time if you wanted to.”

I sigh. While I’m not positive where this is going, I think I can guess.

“It was the other shit that sent me over the edge,” she continued. “You know what I’m talking about, right?”

I sigh. “Natalie.”

“Is that her name? I only know that you call her ‘Mommy.’ And you sure do send her a lot of pictures of yourself.”

It would seem that Julia had recently hacked into either my phone or email. Both, perhaps. Maybe I had done this to myself–months of helpless devotion to Natalie had to boil over in my actual relationship at some point.

“This all seems a little unfair,” I said. “Maybe I can come inside? We could talk about it first.”

“I think we’re well past the point of conversation,” Julia spat back. “So why don’t you take all your baby things and go camp out at Natalie’s place. She has a crib for you, right? Maybe she’ll change your dirty diaper for you too.”

My cheeks grew hot and I felt short of breath. She had weaponized my kinks against me–based only on the out-of-context conversations she spied in my emails and texts. Not that I could hold it against her–I’d likely be just as aggravated if I found she had been keeping such a big secret from me for the entire time we’ve been together.

It was unfortunate that this was the first time I really considered this–when it was far too late.

“It’s not exactly what you think it is,” I said.

“Does it really matter?”

Maybe? “Maybe not.”

“Danny, get your shit together and get out of here.”

“Julia, please. If…if I really need to leave, can I at least come inside and get my stuff?”

“Have I not provided you with everything you actually need?”

I looked around again at the smattering of diapers and infantile apparel that were haplessly tossed across the lawns in the cul-de-sac. I saw the neighbors, still standing around watching me–their expressions ranging from curious to enraged.

As unfair as Julia was being, I was out of options. The longer I stood there, arguing with her about my ability to enter my own home, the longer all of my most humiliating possessions were just sitting out there for everyone to see.

“I…I’ll talk to you later,” I said into the phone.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Julia replied coldly. She ended the call before I could.

I quickly scrambled to start gathering everything that I could. Roy shook his head and went back inside. Mr. Henderson dropped the small pile of diapers he had collected, seeming to have decided that he didn’t want anything to do with whatever this was. Louisa was still on the phone, laughing to whomever she was talking to.

“...I swear, like huge fucking diapers. I think they’re his.”

And then there was Dawn. She was still standing there, close by with an expression that seemed slightly more sympathetic than anyone else’s.

“Do you need some help?” she asked.

My gut instinct was to turn her away. This was my problem, not hers. And I certainly didn’t need anyone else to be pawing through my weird belongings. But I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and a bit lost. The kindness of a semi-stranger felt like exactly what I needed.

“If you don’t mind,” I said.

“You can’t get back into your place?” she asked as she began to gather some of the stray diapers.

“Not right now,” I said–a response that felt far too optimistic about the future.

“You’re welcome to come hang out in my place,” she said with a shrug. “Until things die down or you can make other accommodations or whatever.”

It felt awfully generous for someone I’ve barely ever talked to before, but I was too on edge to think of a better alternative. “A-are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it would put me out,” she said.

Fair enough. The two of us gather everything we can as quickly as possible, dumping everything on Dawn’s front porch as we go. Slowly, the other neighbors all return to their homes. They’ve seen enough. Even Louisa is taking her conversation inside, though she’s still talking about it.

“...now he’s picking up all the diapers. Can you even imagine?”

“I’ve got some boxes in the garage,” Dawn said to me, distracting me from whatever else Louisa was saying as she closed her door. “I can grab some and we can pack up all this stuff for you.”

“I appreciate it.”

She opened her front door and we pushed the pile of infantile items into her home before closing the door again. Dawn left the room, leaving me alone to gaze down at my shameful horde.

I texted Julia. I didn’t expect a response, but I felt like I had to at least try to keep the door open for a conversation: Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I want to tell you everything.

Her response came quickly: I think I know enough. Please don’t reach out to me again.

She had all the power in this conversation. When–if–we talked again, it’d be on her terms. When she wanted. And the more I pushed back against that, the harder I imagined it’d be to have that conversation at all.

I didn’t believe I was without guilt. I had kept an awful lot of information from Julia. But I still felt like she didn’t know the bigger picture. Maybe she’d feel differently if she did?

“I’ve got some boxes,” Dawn said, plopping three decently sized cardboard cubes on the ground between us.

The two of us filed everything into the boxes. There was a mild amount of organization–diapers went into one box. Clothing in another. Accessories in the third. This wasn’t discussed or planned, she just seemed to follow my lead. And when we were done, I was left with three boxes full of adult baby things–the only possessions of mine I had access to now.

“So,” Dawn said cautiously.

Well, here it comes.

“Can I ask what all this is about?” she asked.

I sighed, having already seen how inevitable this question was.

“What do you think it is?” I asked.

“Some sort of fetish, right? And I’m guessing that it was a secret you kept from your wife?”

“She’s not my wife,” I said–and not for the first time that day. “But…yeah. That’s the jist of it.”

“Seems kind of silly,” Dawn said, shrugging. “You’re going to toss a guy out of his own home just because he’s got a fetish? It’s not like you’re hurting anyone by playing dress-up. Right?”

“Right,” I quickly said. “The only other person I’ve ever involved was…” I didn’t think about it before I started saying the words–but it suddenly occurred to me that I was probably incriminating myself.

“Ah,” she said, smirking. “I see. So the diapers were just the icing on the cake, huh? She tossed you out because you were seeing someone else that she didn’t know about?”

“That’s only partially true.”

“What part of that is true?” she asked.

Part of me wanted to just end the conversation there. I didn’t owe her anything. I barely even knew Dawn. Up until now, we had said, maybe, 20 words to each other in the year that we’ve been neighbors. I had barely even formed an impression of her. A little older than me. Attractive, though it seemed mostly powered by a very confident aura.

But she was offering her home to me as a haven, for however long that would last. She helped me gather my humiliating items. Maybe I could trust her with some of the other details.

“Her name is Natalie,” I said. “But I wasn’t having an affair with her.”

“Your girlfriend seems to think differently.”

“There’s…a lot of texts and emails that could probably be seen as…adulterous,” I said.

“But you’re not having an affair with her?”

“I pay Natalie,” I say. “For her services.”

Dawn didn’t say anything, she just nodded to acknowledge that she heard what I said. But she cast no judgment, one way or another. Not aloud, at least.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “Something to eat?”

“N-no, thank you. I think I'm a little too shaken up for that right now.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “I’m going to grab something for myself. Take a seat, though. It’s obviously been a crazy day for you. Just try to relax a little. Let yourself process things.”

I could offer only a tiny nod before she strolled away. She was right, of course. I needed to process things. I needed to think about what was next.

The temptation was strong to reach out to Julia again, but I knew that was the wrong move. Julia, too, needed some time.

And, too, the temptation was just as strong to reach out to Natalie. I needed her more than ever. She could put me in a diaper. Feed me a bottle. Cradle me in her lap until it was time to change me.

Goddamn, that sounds really nice.

But that also seemed like a bad idea. That was just running away from my problems. And with the prospect of homelessness looming above me, a last-minute session probably wouldn’t be doing my bank account any favors.

I looked longingly at my boxes. The thick unworn diapers–slightly puffed up from being manhandled and tossed around–were like an oasis in the desert. I wanted one so badly. I considered snatching one from the box and fleeing to Dawn’s bathroom with it to put it on.

I wouldn’t do that. But I liked the idea of it.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything,” Dawn said, returning with two bottles of water in her hand. “But I figured I’d bring you some water just in case you want it later.”

“Thank you,” I said, graciously accepting it.

As she sat down on the other end of the couch I was sitting on, I forced myself out of my head for a moment. For the first time, I was taking a good look around Dawn’s home.

“You have a nice place,” I said.

“Thanks,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t have, like, an aesthetic or anything. It’s just stuff I like.”

She was right, and I found the ramshackle nature of her decor to be refreshing. Julia believed in aesthetics. Moods. Feng shui and ‘energies.’ Which wasn’t a knock against her–though maybe I could see that trait as being part of the problem now. For her, everything had its right place. And her boyfriend in diapers–with a Mommy on the side–had no place in her life.

“It’s good,” I replied. “Refreshing.”

The room fell into a brief silence again. I wondered which of us was going to break this awkward nothingness–or if it was fine just the way that it was.

“Goddamn,” I finally said, barely even realizing I was speaking until I heard my own voice. “I must look like a complete idiot.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“All that stuff,” I said, waving my hand out towards my shameful boxes. “It was everywhere. Everyone saw it.”

“But they’re missing the context,” she said. “It’s not like they saw you wearing it. And you didn’t tell anyone they were your diapers. Maybe people are going to be suspicious for a little while. But sooner than later, they’ll forget. People always do.”

“Maybe,” I said, laughing to myself a little. “But I know that I’d always be wondering if I saw one of our neighbors running around trying to pick up giant diapers.”

She shrugged. “Just be happy it wasn’t worse. Besides, it sounds like you have far bigger things to worry about than whether or not Louisa, of all people, thinks you wear a diaper.

“Yeah…fair enough.”

There wasn’t any sort of plan. Dawn never officially told me that I could crash at her place overnight, nor did she ever seem to insinuate that I should be on my way. I simply stayed on her couch and we made idle, low-stakes, chit chat until it got dark. She ordered pizza for us. She put a movie on. She poured us glasses of wine.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way,” she said to me, somewhere in the middle of her second or third glass. “But after the sort of day you had today, I just want you to know that you can, like…be yourself.”

“Thanks?” I replied, not entirely sure what she meant by that.

“The, uhm, diapers,” she said, gesturing towards the boxes–still where we left them after we filled them up. “If you want to wear one, it wouldn’t bother me.”

I laughed and shook my head. It felt like a trap. Or, at the very least, the kind of thing you said out of kindness, because you don’t think they’ll take you up on the offer.

“I’m serious,” she added. “Go crazy. I’m not going to judge you.”

“Well…we’ll see,” I said. The polite way of saying “I don’t think I’m going to do that, but thank you for offering.”

But then I found myself staring at the boxes as the night went on. Once more, I was thinking about how badly I wanted one of those diapers. One of those thick, fluffy, wads of padding. I wanted to feel it between my legs. Under my ass as I sat down. I wanted to flood it, feeling the warmth spread over my cock.

It was about twenty minutes after she offered that I quietly excused myself to use the restroom. I quickly grabbed one of the diapers on my way, refusing to look back to see if she was watching me.

Soon after, I returned, sitting back down on the couch with a smile on my face. The muffled crinkle of the diaper reverberated under my bottom, and it was every bit as therapeutic as I hoped it would be.

“Feeling better?” she asked. She knew–of course she knew. But I felt at peace with it.

“Much better,” I said.

“Good.”

We stared ahead at the TV without saying anything else about it. I certainly wasn’t going to say anything else, though I was curious if she was curious. Did she have questions? Concerns? Maybe I did just want to talk about it. Alas, I kept my mouth shut–already feeling like a burden by taking up space in her apartment. I didn’t need to also start yapping about my weird fetishes.

At one point, she got up and went to the bathroom. When she returned, she had a coy smile on her face and I could just tell that she wanted to say something.

“I’m guessing that you probably don’t need to take a bathroom break?” she asked.

I laughed nervously, running my hand through my hair. “N-no…probably not.”

“They hold a lot?” she asked. “The diapers?”

I nodded. “Quite a bit.”

“How often do you change them?”

“It’s hard to say. I don’t get to wear them all the time when I’m home with Julia because, you know, she doesn’t know about them. Or…she didn’t. So usually when I put a diaper on, it stays on until…I need to get back into my normal clothes, I guess.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

“But I think they can hold a few wettings if they had to,” I added. “Maybe I’d have to change sooner if I…” I stopped myself from finishing that sentence. I was probably saying far too much.

“Oh,” she said, stifling a giggle behind her hand. “So you really do…everything in your diaper.”

“I have,” I said, as if to imply that it’s not a regular occurrence.

“Interesting.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know that’s kind of gross and…”

“No, no,” she said, smiling as she shook her head. “You don’t owe me an apology. It’s your diaper. You can do whatever you want to in it.”

“You don’t think it’s gross?”

She laughed. “I didn’t say that.”

I blushed, feeling pretty stupid about for having asked.

“I’m indifferent about it,” she said. “And it really doesn’t matter what I think. You should just do what you like.”

I laughed. “On my own time, of course. Not while I’m sitting on your couch.”

“Why not?”

I had to rewind what she had just said and replay it again in my mind. “Are you suggesting that I…should use my diaper?”

“I’m just saying that you could,” she said. “And I genuinely mean that. Have at it. Fill it up. Do whatever it is you have to do in it. I promise, I won’t judge.”

“That’s very nice of you to say. But…I could never…”

“Poop your pants?” She chuckled to herself. “I have nieces and nephews. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s made a messy diaper on my couch.”

I decided to let it go. I believed what she was saying–that she wouldn’t judge me or hold it against me if I allowed myself to go hog-wild with my diaper tonight. But I already knew that I simply couldn’t do that, as tempting as it was.

Everyone’s happy to see a baby until a stinky diaper needs to be changed.

Still, the conversation had been liberating and I could feel the tension easing in my body. Even if I did absolutely nothing in my diaper other than sit in it, knowing that I could do anything in it was a good feeling.

For a moment, it seemed like we were just going to get back to quietly watching the TV again. But then she paused it and turned to me again, clearly having some more pressing questions on her mind.

“What was it like with the woman you were hiring?”

Her wording caught me off guard and I had to think for a moment about who she was referring to. “Oh, Natalie?”

“Yeah, that’s who you mentioned before,” Dawn said.

I sighed. “She was, like, my ‘mommy,’” I said, grimacing a little at how cringe-inducing the words sounded coming from my mouth. “We get together when we can. She, you know, plays with me. Feeds me. Changes me and all that. Pretty much anything a mommy would do for a baby.”

“It sounds like that was pretty important to you,” she said.

That was sort of true. “I think…the concept of her is more important to me than who she actually is.”

“Oh?”

“I mean…I still have to give her money, you know? Arguably, everyone has a price at which they’d change a grown man’s diaper and treat him like a baby.”

Dawn laughed. “Do you think I have a price?”

“Probably. If I said that I’d give you $500 to change my diaper, would you?”

“In this scenario of yours,” she said, “what is the condition of said diaper?”

“Let’s say it was messy.”

She shrugged. “I’d do it.”

“Wow. And here I was thinking that messy would cost extra.”

“I was more curious to see what value a messy diaper had to you,” she said, laughing.

“But $500? Really?”

“It’s just a diaper,” she said with a shrug. “It’s poop, sure. And that’s…not awesome. But it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“So what if I said $300.”

“Still seems pretty generous.”

“$100?”

“That’s still $100 for, what, 5 minutes of work? I think it’s a good deal.”

“$50?”

She laughed. “Honestly, getting paid to change a single diaper–no matter the rate–doesn’t seem like that bad of a deal.”

“You say that now,” I said. “But I’m not some little infant. I’m a grown man.”

“Arguable,” she teased.

“Okay, I’m an adult-sized baby. That’s not a small diaper. Or a small mess.”

“So now, in this hypothetical deal, you’re trying to talk me out of accepting this task for a small amount of money?”

“I just think it’s more work than you think it is.”

“Well if you’re paying me $500, you better make sure it’s $500 worth of soiled diaper.”

My cheeks warmed again, just trying to imagine the atrocity that would have to have occurred to warrant the $500 bill.

“But I assume you weren’t paying Natalie by the diaper,” she continued.

I shook my head.

“Is Natalie her real name?”

I scoffed, thinking that was an absurd question. But I considered it for a moment, realizing I had never really thought about that before.

“Actually, I have no idea.”

“So what now?” she asked. Just by the change in her tone, I could tell that she was moving on to a different topic. “Are you going to try and win your girlfriend back?”

“I mean, I’d be an idiot not to, right?”

She shrugged. “I can’t say I know enough about the situation. Or…anything, really.”

There was a heaviness in my bladder that was slowly consuming more and more of my attention. I had been fighting it for a little bit, but my diaper was right there. But allowing myself to use it, here on a stranger’s couch, was proving to be a hurdle that was challenging to get over.

“Did she know that you were into this sort of stuff?” she asked. “Did you ever talk to her about it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Well, you know, I tried. Pretty early on in our relationship too. I just came out with it one night and told her all about it.”

“I take it she didn’t react too well?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “She humored me briefly. I put on a diaper for her and sat in her lap. There was this incredibly short moment where I thought it was going well. But then she just sort of…freaked out about it. She told me to get off of her and throw away the diaper. Then she said that if we were going to be together, she never wanted to see another one of my diapers in the house again.”

“And I’m guessing that you must’ve been willing to make that compromise?” Dawn asked. “At least, at the time?”

I nodded. “Her reaction convinced me that maybe I was the one in the wrong, you know? That maybe I actually was disgusting and perverted. So I swore that’d be the end of it.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No…obviously not.”

“Except now–and I’m just assuming–it was a secret from her.”

I nodded.

“How is your relationship otherwise?” she asked.

I sighed as I sat back on the couch, mulling over her question. I suspected that I could guess where her question was headed: If Julia had asked me to drop a part of myself like a hot potato from the get-go, what else had I been expected to compromise on?

A lot, as it would turn out, though I rarely thought about it. Or even realized that I was.

Yet, there on Dawn’s couch, sitting in my diaper in the presence of someone who was giving me an evening to catch my breath, I saw it more clearly than I had in a long time.

There were good things. Brunches. Good conversations. Vacations. But they were all built on a foundation soured by the control I had ceded to Julia early on. Our good times were good because she allowed them to be good.

“I’m not sure that it’s all that great,” I said to finally answer her question.

“Here’s a little hint that things might not have been all that great,” she said. “When your partner respects you, they don’t throw your most private belongings out into the yard.”

“Well…she was mad,” I said. “She discovered I had been lying to her about the diapers. And she saw my texts to Natalie. And, you know, what else was she supposed to think?”

“You poor baby,” Dawn said, laughing lightly to herself. “I hope you find someone, some day, that shows you that there are much healthier ways of disagreeing.”

That was what I needed to hear. It hit me harder than anything else had that day. Finding my diapers strewn across the cul-de-sac. Julia’s refusal to have a conversation with me. Roy’s disapproving glare. Louisa’s mocking chatter on the phone. Despite all of that, I had still been assuming that once I got the chance to talk to Julia again, we could work it out.

It’d come with sacrifice, of course. My sacrifice. I’d vow to give up my diapers again. I’d vow never to contact Natalie again. Maybe I’d invest in therapy for myself and actually work on ridding myself of this kink once and for all. But I’d have done it.

But Dawn was suggesting that there was another path: I didn’t have to subject myself to a relationship where I couldn’t be me.

“You’re not wrong,” I said. “I think…”

Perhaps it was just coincidental timing, or maybe the liberating feeling from this realization was applying to more than just my mind. Suddenly my bladder’s hold broke, and I felt myself flooding the diaper. I was frozen in place, unable to do anything else, while I let my bladder empty. In the silence, the sound of my stream filling the diaper seemed to echo throughout the room.

When it was finally over, I opened my mouth to pick up what I was saying from where I left off, but I realized that I couldn’t remember what I was talking about.

There was a playful smirk on Dawn’s face. “Did you just…”

I nodded. I probably didn’t need to say anything, but I did anyway: “I…wet myself.”

I braced myself for some sort of negative reaction. Dawn had talked a good game about being supportive of my desires–but this could also be the moment where she changed her mind. Perhaps seeing it for herself–a pathetic man, pissing in a pair of pampers on her couch–would cause her to see things from Julia’s point of view instead.

“Does it feel good?” she asked.

Was that a trick question? A setup so that she could be truly disgusted if I was honest with her?

But I saw no reason to lie. I barely knew Dawn. And regardless of what happened with Julia, I had learned that I needed to stop compromising.

“It…feels good. Yeah.”

She smiled. “Good.”

And that was that. She turned back to the TV, as if nothing happened, and allowed the show to begin playing again.

For a moment, I sat there awkwardly in my pissy diaper, wondering if I was missing some sort of social cue. Was I supposed to do something else? Was this a test to see how long it’d take for me to drag my ass to the bathroom to change my diaper and get my wet bottom off of her furniture?

No. This seemed like something else. She looked comfortable. Normal. This might have actually been the opposite of what I feared. She had simply accepted that her new friend wet his diaper and went back to doing what she had been. And I was sitting next to her, in my soaked diaper, feeling like I could just belong there in that state for as long as I wanted.

A while later, the credits were rolling, and it seemed like a natural point to jumpstart the conversation again.

“You stayed in that diaper for longer than I thought you would,” she said.

My cheeks warmed slightly as I shifted my bottom in the dense padding. “Yeah?”

“Parents make a big deal about changing diapers for their babies quickly, you know? They don’t want the baby to get a diaper rash. Is that not a concern for you?”

“I’ve only ever had a diaper rash once,” I said. I was being a little more candid than I had planned on being, but it was too late to take the words back. “But it took a lot more than sitting on the couch in a wet diaper for an hour or two to get that.”

“Sounds like a story,” she said.

“Maybe,” I said with a shrug.

It was, but maybe not one I was ready to tell just yet. That day with Natalie–the picnic lunch by the river–had really been something. One of my fondest memories in diapers. And, for now, I liked that being a story that only I, and maybe Natalie, knew.

“I should probably consider getting some sleep,” Dawn said, consulting the clock on the wall. “I have work tomorrow. And wine makes me tired.”

“And you’re okay if I…”

“Sleep on the couch?” she said, anticipating the question. “Well, I’m certainly not going to kick you out. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

“But…”

“But?”

“I think I’d have to insist on your diaper getting changed before you settle down for the night,” she said. “Wouldn’t want it to leak on my couch overnight, you know?”

“O-of course!”

“And you should probably wear a new diaper to bed,” she said, her lips shifting to a rye smile so slightly that I could only guess how serious she was being. “Just in case you have an accident while you sleep.”

“I…I never have accidents…” But I quickly realized what her request really was: Permission to continue being myself.

I gave a bashful nod, my lips sliding into a little smile of my own. “Okay, fine. If you insist.”

She opened her mouth, as if to say something else, but she stopped herself. For the first time, I see her cheeks glowing a little pinker. It’s curious, and I’d have loved to insist she say whatever was on her mind, but I let it go.

“Good night, Danny.”

“Good night, Dawn.”

She turned and began walking away, only to stop and turn around. Her mouth was open again, and she was seemingly willing to try saying whatever it was she didn’t say before.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?” I said, looking up at her.

“If you, uh, need help…”

I felt my heart flutter. “Like…with my diaper?”

She nodded.

“What did we say the rate was going to be?” I teased. “$50?”

“I think I’d give you this one on the house.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” I said.

“Lie down,” she said. “Right there on the couch. I can take care of the rest.”

It’s my instinct–maybe it’s human nature in general–to want to question a request like this. “Are you really sure you want to do this?” But I bit my tongue. She could’ve walked away without saying another word, but this was her idea.

The entire day suddenly felt serendipitous. All those diapers and baby things I had picked up from the lawn–now the only possessions I had–were only a few feet away from us. Dawn shopped her way through the boxes, plucking out all the things she needed. A new diaper. Wipes. Baby powder. Even a pacifier.

“It was so nice of your girlfriend to give you all of these things,” she said.

“I’ll be sure to thank her later.”

Julia wasn’t that far away either. She was just a house or two away here in the same cul-de-sac that Dawn lived. I wondered, briefly, what Julia would think if she knew that I was so close to her, about to get my diaper changed like a baby. I quickly shook away the thought–she was the last person I wanted to think about right now.

I eased myself onto my back on her couch, and she wasted no time in pushing the pacifier past my lips and into my mouth. She paused for a moment, looking down at me and taking in the scene. She seemed quite delighted by what she saw. And then she went to work. She offered no narration or commentary, she treated it as if it was something she had done a hundred times before. And, per her earlier comment about changing the diapers of her nieces and nephews, maybe this wasn’t that far off from something she had done countless times before.

She pulled my shorts down my legs, casting them aside. Her hand briefly caressed the front of my diaper–no doubt feeling just how swollen the padding had become–before she peeled back the tapes.

When in the care of Natalie, she’d usually find an erect surprise sticking up into the air when she peeled back the front of my dirty diaper. And while I certainly had that same aroused energy coursing through my body now, I was far too timid to let my cock stiffen in my diaper.

“This is quite the diaper,” she said, opening the diaper for herself. “Very big. And I can’t believe how much it held! Or, really, how much you wet. You’ve been holding it for a while, huh?”

I nodded.

She tucked the front of the diaper under my bottom, and procured a damp wipe to start cleaning my skin. It didn’t take long–just a few short seconds–for my cock to slowly spring to life. No amount of timidness could stop me from being aroused by an attractive woman cleaning up after me.

“Ah, there we go,” she said with a smile. “I was a little worried for a second. If you didn’t get turned on by me changing your diaper, I was going to worry that there was something wrong with me.”

She wrapped her hand around my cock, wipe still in hand, and ran it up my shaft slowly. From behind my pacifier, I began to moan.

“Can’t say this has ever happened while I changed a diaper before,” she said, smirking. “But we’ll have to do something about this, right? If we hope to get you into a fresh diaper before bed.”

I exhaled through my nose, badly wanting to respond, but instead just biting down on the pacifier’s rubber bulb.

“I could probably try this,” she said, letting her wipe-lined hand glide back down my cock again, forcing another gutteral groan from my throat. “And then this.” Her hand slid back up. “And then we’ll just do that as many times as it takes.”

Up. And then down. Up. And then down. And a few more times–though not too many more. I could only gurgle and moan as my cock dribbled and spurted onto her hand in climax. She was there with a fresh wipe moments later to clean up the new mess.

“Now then. Let’s get you into that fresh diaper.”

She pulled the soggy diaper out from under me, bundling into a ball before holding it out in front of her in her hand.

“Wow,” she said, laughing. “I feel like your dirty diaper weighs more than an actual infant.”

I doubted such a claim was true, but it was certainly embarrassing to hear her say regardless.

A new diaper was slid beneath me–my bottom rising into the air instinctually, much to her delight. Next came a fine dusting of baby powder between my legs before she finally pulled the front of the diaper up through my legs and taped it securely into place.

For a first time–as far as adult-sized diapers went–she handled it like a pro. Even Natalie probably would’ve been impressed.

“Nothing to it,” she said, giving my diaper a firm pat.

I pulled the pacifier from my mouth. “Th-thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said. “Thank you for allowing me to do that.”

I nodded.

“We’ll negotiate how much the next one will cost you later.”

We laughed together. She was joking–I think.

“Get some sleep,” she continued. “It was a long day for you, I’m sure. But tomorrow’s a new day. And, you know, the first in the rest of your life.”

I was thinking about everything that would come next. I’d have to contend with Julia. Maybe she, too, just wanted a clean break. Or, as had happened before, maybe she’d want to extend a conditional olive branch–my ability to return home in exchange for her grip tightening on the reins further.

I’d have a counter-proposal: I’d find my own place to live, and she’d give me the rest of my belongings back. We’d both be liberated–she’d be just as free of the shame of having a diaper-loving boyfriend as I would be to not have to hide large important parts of my life.

And Dawn? Maybe she’d be there, by my side, for the next chapter of my life. Or, tonight was a complete fluke. Perhaps I’d look back on today as nothing more than just a weird catalyst that set the next stage of my life in motion.

“No pressure or anything,” I finally replied sarcastically, overwhelmed by the possibilities.

“It’ll be easier than you think,” she said.

I could already feel a tiny dribble of pee trickling into my fresh diaper. I laughed and nodded.

“I bet you’re right.”