Book Club [Tier 2 and 3 Exclusive] (Patreon)

The first sign that something was off was when April pulled into the driveway, finding that only Cleo’s car was there. Cleo, herself, was standing on the house’s porch–looking just as frustrated as April felt.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” April snorted as she stepped out of her car.

Cleo just shook her head.

“She knew it was her turn to host, right?” April asked.

“I literally texted Jenn this morning to make sure we were still on for tonight,” Cleo said. “And she said we were definitely meeting tonight. Here.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

Cleo glanced at her smartwatch. “Oh, about 20 minutes.”

“And here I was thinking that I was so late that I shouldn’t have even bothered coming,” April said, shaking her head. “And she’s not home? You’re sure of that?”

“I rang the doorbell like eight times,” Cleo said. “Knocked on the door. I even walked around to the back of the house and knocked on the back door. And a few windows.”

“How long have we been doing this book club?” April asked.

Cleo knew better than to answer the obviously rhetorical question.

“Long enough,” continued April, “that even if we hadn’t confirmed these plans with her today, she still should’ve known that this was when we met.”

“So what do we do?” Cleo asked. “Do we just leave? Get in touch with Jenn later and reschedule?”

April shrugged, taking a deep breath and sighing. It was like a hot machine letting off some steam–Cleo could just April centering herself again. Maybe the meditation was actually helping.

“If she’s not here, she’s not here,” April said. “But you read the book, right?”

Cleo nodded.

“Maybe we should grab a bite to eat? Or some coffee or something like that? We can talk about the book. Or, fuck, we can talk about anything, I don’t care. Book club is the one night of the week I can get away from Marc and all his prattling on. I’m sure as hell not going home early.”

Cleo nodded again, laughing this time. “Actually, I think that’s a pretty good idea. We could–”

She was interrupted by the front door opening. In the doorway stood a young man, his bedraggled hair and droopy eyes suggesting that he just woke from a years-long nap.

“Uhm. Hi?”

“Oh, you’re Jenn’s son, right?” Cleo asked. “Tommy?”

“Tom,” he said nervously, correcting her.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“I, uh, just go by Tom now. Nobody calls me Tommy anymore.”

April laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Unreal. The last time I saw you, you were like yay big,” she said, holding a hand up to the midpoint of her thigh. “How old are you now? When the hell did you grow up?”

“I’m 19,” he said. “W-wait…who are you two again?”

“Friends of your mother’s, dear,” Cleo said. “We were meeting for our book club tonight but…she’s nowhere to be seen.”

“Oh,” he said, scratching his dark hair. “Right, right. I’m not sure where she is either, honestly. I think I, uh, fell asleep for a while. I could give her a ring if you want?”

“I already texted her,” Cleo said. “She’s not answering. But it can’t hurt for you to try too.”

“Alright,” he said. “Let me get my phone and I’ll give her a buzz. Hold on.” He stepped away from the phone for a moment, leaving the door wide open. His footsteps got softer as he walked away from the door.

“Should we just wait here?” Cleo asked.

April rolled her eyes, poking at the open door. “Kids. Let’s just go inside. We’re practically family.”

It was true–the three had been best friends for years now. Before Tom had even been born. But time had gotten away from them. Each had their own families and lives to tend to these days, and it had gotten harder and harder to make time to spend with each other. Their book club had become the last dab of glue holding them together–a monthly excuse for a night among the gal-pals. The ratio of book talk to wine-and-gossip was usually about 1 to 3.

“I haven’t seen him in years,” Cleo said as they stepped into the dining room, closing the door behind them. “He looks like a little man now.”

“He still looks like a baby to me,” April said, planting herself on the couch. “I look at him and I still see the little toddler he used to be. I swear, he’s had the same haircut for 17 years.”

“He’s a cutie,” Cleo said with a devilish smile.

“Cleo! You can’t say that! He’s Jenn’s kid!”

“Oh, come on. If you were a decade, or two, younger and you saw him at the mall…”

“Nobody hangs out at the mall anymore, Clee.”

“You know what I mean.”

April chuckled. “He’s cute. In a boyish sort of way. The kind of boy a younger version of me would’ve wanted to corrupt.”

“Here here.”

Tom strolled back into the room soon after, surprised to see that both women had helped themselves into the house and sat down.

“She’s, uh, running late,” he said, shrugging.

“Obviously,” April said.

“Is she okay?” Cleo asked. “She wasn’t in, like, a car accident or something, was she?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Got caught up with something for work. She said she’d be back as soon as she possibly could.”

“Work?” spat April. “It’s Saturday-fucking-night.”

“Such is the life of a real estate agent, I suppose,” Cleo mused aloud. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“But she said you two could hang out here and wait for her if you want,” he added. “Could I get either of you something to drink?”

Cleo laughed, she could almost imagine Jenn on the phone, telling Tom that he had to offer drinks to her guests.

“Maybe just some water?” she asked.

“I brought two bottles of wine,” April said. “It’s not our fault if Jenn is late to the party at her own house. I say we crack one of these open now.”

“Fine by me,” Cleo said. “Tommy? Er…Tom? Maybe some water and some wine glasses?”

“S-sure,” he stammered before retreating to the kitchen.

April watched him disappear, shaking her head and laughing to herself. “I swear. Put a little bib on him and he’d look exactly like a toddler again.”

“You might not be too far off from the truth,” Cleo said, shrugging.

“Oh?”

“Wasn’t Jenn telling us about some little issue he was having a year or two ago? She had found a bunch of used adult diapers in his room?”

“Oh shit,” April said. “I completely forgot about that. Whatever came of that?”

“No idea. I think she tried bringing him to a doctor, but he refused to go. I’m not sure if I ever got any updates after that.”

“Well that’s just delicious, isn’t it?” April asked, licking her lips hungrily.

Cleo grimaced a little. “You…think so? A teenager wearing diapers?”

“Maybe not when you say it like that,” April said. “But, come on. What teenager wants to wear a diaper? If there was a reason he needed them–no matter how embarrassing it was–he’d want to get help to correct the issue, right?”

Cleo’s eyes narrowed a little. She was beginning to see the point that April was getting towards. “So, you’re suggesting that he–what–chose to wear them?”

“That’s a thing, right?” April asked. “Diaper fetishes?”

Now Cleo was laughing, shaking her head. “You’re just going to hurdle every other reasonable explanation and jump to the conclusion that he wears–of all things–a diaper for pleasure?”

They could both hear footsteps approaching the living room from the direction of the kitchen.

“Watch this,” April said, flashing her friend a wry grin.

“I brought you some water,” Tom said, placing the two tall glasses of ice water down on the coffee table. “And some wine glasses.”

“You’re such a doll,” April cooed. “A good boy.”

Both women watched as his cheeks instantly bloomed into a rosey-pink color. “Th-thank you…”

“Maybe it’s just because I saw you more when you were a baby,” April continued, “but it’s hard to look at you now and think of you as a young man. Why, I feel like you’re just a diaper away from still looking like a toddler to me.”

His cheeks went from pink to crimson in less than a second. His entire body seemed to pause in place, head tilted, as he seemed to try and make sense of what she had just said to him. He seemed to be cycling through a series of emotions. Confusion. Fear. Humiliation. Curiosity.

“Well,” he finally said. “I, uh, can assure you that I’m fully potty trained.”

That could’ve been the end of it. Tom could’ve been allowed to leave the room and return to the sanctuary of his bedroom. The women could’ve done some drinking and gossiping as they waited for Jenn to return. April had nothing left to say on the matter–she had just wanted to embarrass the poor boy with the mention of diapers, and she had accomplished exactly that.

But, surprisingly, it was Cleo who kept the conversation rolling. “Some little boys know how to use the potty. They just don’t want to.”

Tom was frozen again, his gaze now fixed on Cleo. He was a deer in the headlights–he seemed to know that this was a dangerous situation that he needed to escape from, but lacked the foresight on how to make that escape.

“I…I don’t know what you mean by that,” he said.

He missed his chance to just walk away, and now he was engaged–a critical error on his part that he probably wouldn’t see until much later.

“What she means,” April said, feeling inspired by Cleo’s participation, “is that some little boys just want to wear diapers.”

“Wh-what did my mom tell you?” he asked, face aghast.

“See, Jenn is in a state of denial,” April said directly to Cleo, as if Tom wasn’t even in the room. “And I get that. She wants to believe the best about her son. And, in the case of finding diapers in her son’s room, she has no choice but to believe that he has them because of a medical reason.”

“She told you…that?” he exclaimed.

“She was concerned about you,” said Cleo. “That’s all. And did she end up dragging you to the doctor’s office?”

He looked longingly at the stairs, perhaps still wondering if he could make an escape instead of having this conversation. But, defying all logic, he stayed put and seemed to be carefully considering his answer.

“I…don’t need diapers,” he finally said. It suddenly became a little more clear why he stuck around–he wanted to defend himself. “It was just a one-time thing. I don’t have diapers anymore. I didn’t have to go to the doctor.”

“Huh,” April said to herself. “I guess I’m a little disappointed to hear that.”

“Me too,” chimed Cleo.

“Y-you’re disappointed that I don’t have…diapers?” Tom asked.

April shrugged. “I just think you’d look cute in them, that’s all. I look at you and I think: That boy should be in a diaper.”

His cheeks had become the most fascinating shade of red. One could almost see some purple in that redness.

“So do you like to wear diapers, Tommy?” asked Cleo. “You can tell us.”

“We won’t tell your Mommy,” April said. “Honest.”

“N-no,” he protested. “You can’t be serious. I don’t like…diapers. I-I don’t wear them either!”

“Well that’s a real shame,” said Cleo.

His ears perked a little and he turned to face her again. “W-why?”

“Because,” April added, causing his head to snap back towards her now, “we’d have loved to have seen you in a diaper.”

“Looking like a little baby?” cooed Cleo. “You were absolutely right about what you said before, April. That would be delicious.”

Tom. Tommy. The poor foolish boy still seemed stuck between the desire to abandon his own house and humoring the sinister curiosities of his mother’s friends. He just stood there, seemingly waiting on himself to make a decision.

Or, perhaps, waiting on someone to make a decision for him.

“It makes you wonder,” April said, pointing to his baggy jeans. “Mom’s not home, you know? Maybe that means it’s time to break out the diapers.”

“Oh,” Cleo said, laughing. “So you’re suggesting that he’s wearing diapers right now?”

“He could be,” she responded. “Or he might have been wearing one earlier. I mean, if I was into wearing such naughty things, and my mother was out of the house, this would certainly be the right time for me to slip into one.”

“No,” Tom said, shaking his head. “I…I’m not wearing a diaper right now.”

“Hrm. I don’t believe that. April?”

“Nope.”

“B-but I’m not…”

“He could show us,” April said with a shrug. “Right? If he pulled down his pants and there wasn’t a diaper there, he could just be on his way and we could forget this little conversation ever occurred.”

“Or,” Cleo added, “if there is a diaper…”

“Wh-what then?” stammered Tom.

Both women laughed. Truthfully, neither actually knew what the plan was beyond that. Yet both, with years more experience in manipulation and teasing, knew to keep that close to the chest.

“I’m not going to pull down my pants for you,” he protested, his head quickly bouncing back and forth between the two women.

“Shall we pull them down for you then?” asked Cleo.

“Th-this can’t possibly be happening,” he said. He was likely talking to himself.

“Seems real enough to me,” April said. “Clee, are you feeling pretty realistic right now?”

“I sure hope this is reality.”

“I don’t see what’s so hard to believe,” April continued. “Either you vamoose back to your room and hide from us mean ladies, or you stand there and pull down your pants so that we can see your diaper.”

“B-but…”

“I know, I know,” April said, rolling her eyes. “You’re not wearing diapers. So you’ve said. I just don’t believe you.”

“Me neither,” Cleo added.

Tom huffed–more of a dramatically exaggerated sigh. “I’ll show you. But…you can’t tell my mother.”

“Tommy, honey?” Cleo asked. “We’re bored and mischievous–not stupid. This stays between us.”

“You promise?” he asked.

“Promise,” answered April.

It took a few more moments for Tom to compose himself and strengthen his resolve. And while both women thought it, neither said it aloud: if he needed to gather this much courage to pull down his pants, perhaps he actually had something to hide.

He did.

With one fluid thrust of his arms, he pushed his pants down to his knees, revealing the thick padding between his legs.

“Oh,” said a wide-eyed Cleo.

“Oh my,” said April as she shook her head in astonishment.

There were a few things worth pointing out. For one, the size and thickness of the diaper was beyond what either had expected. Of course, neither had any prior experience or interaction with adult diapers before, but both would have assumed that they’d be of a more discrete size.

Also, and even more of a shock, was the design of the diapers. They had expected something simple. Clinical. But not like this–a colorful and cartoonish design that seemed absurdly infantile.

It was the next detail, however, that seemed to be the most surprising–or at least surprising enough that concerns over the size, thickness, and design of the diaper were temporarily shelved. The sort of detail that was probably pretty obvious to begin with, though likely more so for anyone who had ever taken care of an actual infant before.

“You’ve pissed your diaper,” Cleo said.

“Absolutely drenched it, by the looks of it,” added April. “Your mother would be so disappointed if she saw this. Her big boy? Not so big anymore. And betraying your potty training like this.”

There was one other detail to make note of.

“I think he likes it,” Cleo said.

“Well of course he likes it,” April retorted. “He chose to put on a big baby-diaper and wet it.”

“No,” Cleo continued. “I mean, like, he’s, uhm…aroused?”

Once you noticed it, it was hard to see anything except for that. The long bulge ran up through the center of the front of his diaper.

“Th-there,” he said. “Happy now? Can I pull up my pants and go?”

“No.”

“N-no?”

“Oh please, Tommy,” April said, playfully tapping the arm of the couch. “You don’t need to keep up this charade. Acting like you’re being forced to do this one uncomfortable thing so that you can run away? That’s not what you want. You want us to see your diaper. You want to be humiliated. That’s why you’ve got that little stiff in your soggy diaper, am I right?”

He opened his mouth to say something, only for him to seemingly change his mind and abandon the thought. The women were right. Obviously.

“We could help you, of course,” Cleo said.

“It’s true,” April said, shrugging. “We’re both mothers. We know our way around a diaper.”

“Why don’t you go get a clean diaper,” Cleo said.

“And some baby wipes.”

“And come back to us.”

“We’ll take care of your diaper for you.”

“But be quick. We wouldn’t want your mother to see you getting your diaper changed by her friends.”

“Nor would we want to leave you in a dirty diaper any longer than we have to. Diaper rashes are no joke.”

“Y-you don’t have to change my diaper,” he said. “I…”

“Nonsense,” April said. “And it’s not like we’re asking for permission to do it, either. We’re telling you that you need to go grab a new diaper. Because we are going to change you.”

“You wouldn’t want to disappoint your babysitters, would you?” asked Cleo. “I’ve heard that April is quite the proficient paddler of bottoms.”

“Admittedly, I’m a little out of practice,” April responded, shrugging. “But it’s just like riding a bike, right? After a few swats, I’m sure I’d be right back in my groove again.”

“I’ll be right back,” Tom said.

He began to scramble away, only to find himself caught off guard by his pants, which were still pulled down around his legs. He could’ve pulled them up, but he made the curious choice of pushing them down his legs instead, stepping out of them and leaving them behind on the floor before waddling his way up the steps to wherever it was he kept his naughty stash.

“I like this more than talking about books,” April said.

“Especially this book,” Cleo said, pointing towards the paperback that sat next to her.

“This feels wrong, right? We probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You want to stop?”

“Not particularly.”

“Me neither.”

“Jenn would fucking kill us if she knew.”

“Well, she’s not going to find out.”

“That’s what you get for standing us up on book club night, I guess.”

The women were cackling as Tom came back down the stairs, fresh diaper and a pack of wipes in hand. He wouldn’t be sure what they were laughing about–though it was safe to assume it was about him.

“How nice would it have been if our babies had gone and fetched their own diapers when they needed a change?” asked Cleo.

“Pros and cons,” April replied. “This one gets his own diapers. Probably buys them himself too, which is a perk. But, you know, the bigger the baby…the bigger the mess.”

“Oh,” giggled Cleo. “I hadn’t thought about that. Tommy? Do you make real big stinkies in your diaper?”

“I…uh… N-no…”

“Don’t even bother trying to lie about it,” April said. “Big baby diapers like that? Walking around in your pee-pee for who-knows how long? There’s no way that you don’t take an occasional squat and push a big boom-boom out into your pampers.”

“Well I, for one, am happy that we don’t have to deal with a mess like that today.”

“Agreed. Maybe next time.”

“Next time? You’ll think there’s going to be another time we change this big baby’s diaper?”

“You never know.”

“Alright,” Cleo said, turning her attention back to Tom. “Come here, Tommy. Bring your soggy bottom over here so we can take care of you.”

He waddled his way closer to the women, who stood up and moved to an open area of the living room floor. The implication was clear–this would be the spot that he’d get down on his back for the diaper change.

“Have you had your diaper changed before?” April asked.

“N-no. Well…not since I was a baby.”

“Oh, but you’re a baby now,” Cleo cooed to him.

“An, uh, actual baby…”

The ladies were laughing again, mostly amusing themselves at this point.

“Come now,” April urged. “Mommy could be home at any moment. And I doubt she’d like to see any of this.”

This all felt especially naughty. There was an unspoken energy shared among all three in the living room. It felt so temporary and of-a-moment. It helped to smooth over any remaining hesitancy or inhibitions–and not just for Tom. Everyone suddenly seemed to be on the same page and in the groove they needed to be.

Tom was on his back, with each woman kneeling down on either side of him. Both April and Cleo unfastened the tapes on their side of the diaper at the same time. They began to peel up the front of his diaper, only to pause and look at each other.

“Ready for the big reveal?”

“Big? You think this baby has anything big?”

“Only one way to find out.”

The diaper was pulled open, revealing both the saturated, yellow-stained, inner padding and Tom’s firm cock, bobbing up and down above his body like a diving board.

“Hmm. Not bad.”

“For a baby.”

“For anyone. I’d love to tell my husband that I changed the diaper of a baby with a bigger cock than his.”

“I don’t care for all this hair, though.”

“If we had a little more time…”

“We’d cut it all off? My thoughts exactly.”

“God, wouldn’t that be the cutest thing? As hairless as a newborn.”

“It’d make him easier to change, that’s for sure.”

“Especially if he messed himself.”

“Oh, can you even imagine? Trying to clean him through that little nest?”

“Lift your bottom, baby boy.”

It was like a brisk, well-oiled, machine–one that had done this a thousand times. And maybe, between the two women, they had actually changed thousands of diapers. The old diaper was pulled out from under him. The new one was unfurled and tucked under his bottom by Cleo while April thoroughly wiped down his skin with a wipe–paying extra attention to his cock.

“What do you think? Do we have time to give the baby a treat for letting us change his diaper?”

A quick look out the window confirmed: “Well, she’s not here yet…”

“And I doubt it’ll take long to make him cream his diaper.”

“So, yes. I think we should.”

April kept her hand on his cock, letting it glide up and down his shaft. Cleo pulled the new diaper through his legs and used it to cup his balls, gently massaging him through the diaper as Cleo stroked him.

It would take less than a minute for him to erupt.

“Should we clean it up?”

“Goodness no. He can wear that around with him in his new diaper.”

“I think I hear a car pulling into the driveway…”

“Well, let’s get this diaper in place.”

They hastily fixed the front of the diaper over his slowly shrinking cock, sandwiching his filthy spurts between the padding and his skin as they taped everything in place.

From outside, there was the sound of a car door shutting.

“Grab your pants and go,” said Cleo.

“And take your baby wipes with you.”

“And your dirty diaper.”

It was the longest twenty seconds that any of them had ever experienced. Tom grabbed his belongings and made an awkward shamble up the stairs–slowed just enough by the thick diaper and the sticky contents within.

He was still at the top step as the door opened and Jenn entered.

She wore an apologetic smile, and held an extra bottle of wine in her hands. “I am so sorry I’m late. But I got another bottle in case I need to catch up with you too.”

“Actually,” Cleo stated, “we haven’t had too much to drink just yet.”

“Perfect,” Jenn said. “Did I miss anything?”

April and Cleo could only look at each other and laugh.

“What?” asked Jenn. “What’s so funny?”

“You just had to be there, I guess,” April said.