The baby business Part 15

Copyright (c) 1995 by Babydoc.

Mrs. Warren visited Doug around noon on Sunday, which was great for Doug’s plans. After she left, he watched the diaper van exit the apartment complex’s parking lot, and as soon as it disappeared, he ran upstairs and took off his diaper. He was going to leave it at home, but on second thought, just to be safe, he folded it carefully and decided to take it with him, on the off chance he saw Mrs. Warren on the way to the grocery store. He wasn’t going to take any chances. He pulled his jeans back up, and immediately noticed how strange not wearing a diaper felt after only a couple of days. It felt weirder, of course, because he didn’t have any underwear to wear, so his normally-insulated skin was in direct contact with his rough jeans. In addition, for the first time in fifteen years, he had no pubic hair, so he felt the odd sensation of breezes drifting through his crotch periodically.

But he had to hurry. He didn’t want to be out of his diaper for more than forty-five minutes this first time. It would be too horrible if she found out. Later, he might explore the limits of his freedom, but right now he wanted to play it very conservatively. So he took the spare diaper, grabbed his keys, and jumped into the car.

He drove carefully to the grocery store, keeping an eye out for pastel-colored vans, but as he expected, didn’t see any. He quickly made his way inside the store, grabbed a cart, and efficiently started collecting the items he needed. He was organized and fast; he wanted to take no chances.

He breezed through several aisles before seeing the one thing that could make his heart skip a beat. Mrs. Warren was in the store! He saw her near the cash registers, but she didn’t see him, he thought. She didn’t have a cart, so it appeared that she must just be looking for something specific. Suddenly it hit him. She was looking for *him.* He didn’t know how, but she’d found him. He peeked down an aisle and saw her crossing it at the other end. He knew what he had to try to do: guess where she was heading, and go the other way. He could still escape, get home, and get into a diaper before she caught him. It wasn’t a sure bet, but it was possible. He could be quite savvy in these situations.

But damn! How had she found him? And now he questioned why he had even taken this chance. His bottom tingled. He didn’t want to cross this lady again. He was still a little sore from the first spanking. Forty-five minutes out of a diaper was hardly worth this risk, he realized.

Thinking quickly, Doug reversed his direction and turned down an aisle, pushing his cart with urgency. He was halfway down the aisle, thinking he might actually make it past the registers and safely to his car, when Mrs. Warren suddenly appeared directly in front of him at the end of the aisle. How?…Doug froze in panic. Seeing him, she turned and strode toward him.

Doug began to feel queasy. What would happen now? He was in an extremely vulnerable situation: he’d snuck out of the apartment without telling her, and he wasn’t wearing his diaper. He feared the worst, and Mrs. Warren wasn’t one to disappoint.

“Well, Douggie, what a surprise it is to see you here,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “Maybe we’ve forgotten some of our rules.” She paused, letting her eyes sweep over him in a quick, practiced assessment of his diaper status. Doug felt his body tense; he (correctly) surmised that she now knew that he was undiapered. He stared at her face, looking for any sign of this fact, but her expression didn’t change.

“Well, Doug, I know it’s early in your ICP, and there are a lot of rules to remember, so why don’t we go easy on you here?” she said, with just a little too much sweetness in her voice for Doug’s taste. “We’ll just play the Wet Bet and leave it at that. Okay? If you win, no punishment. If you lose, though, you lose.”

Doug mind swirled. The Wet Bet. He’d read about it, he knew. But what was it?

She read his mind. “I know you haven’t yet played this little game, so I’ll describe it for you. It’s very simple. I make a bet with you that you’re not wearing your diaper now. I know you’re a good little boy, so I’m sure I’m wrong, but you just need to prove it to me. So I ask you simply to wet for me right now. You pee, and then we see who wins the bet. If you win, and you’re wearing your diaper, then you only end up with a wet diaper that we can change very easily. If I win, and you don’t have a diaper on, that fact will become very obvious very soon. In that case…” Her voice trailed off, indicating the undesirability of that outcome.

“But either way, I have to insist you take the bet. Your only other option would be a particularly severe spanking right here in this aisle. Most of my boys don’t like their pants pulled down in public, so I don’t get to do that very often. They always take the bet.” She sort of smirked at him.

“Well, what’ll it be? You wanna take the bet?”

Now Doug was scared. She had him pinned against a wall, and she knew it. Wetting his pants in public versus a spanking in public. He’d had a spanking before, though, and decided that even public humiliation by wetting his pants be better than that. Anything would be better than a *public* spanking! He swallowed hard, as he realized he really had no choice. At least if he sucked it up and wet himself right now he’d avoid any other punishment. It would be humiliating, but it would be otherwise painless, and over very quickly. Then he could go right home and change. He stared at the floor and nodded.

She smiled cruelly, though he didn’t see it. “That’s a good boy. Now, here’s how we’ll do it. I’ll turn around, and you can start peeing. I’ll tell you to start, and then you pee for at least ten seconds. Then you’ll tell me when you’re done, and we’ll try to figure out who won. If your pants are dry, I’ll need to see your diaper, of course, to make sure you didn’t cheat. That would earn you a spanking, too.” She smiled that fake smile again as she said, “Of course, I’m sure you wouldn’t cheat.” He nodded nervously.

“Okay,” she said, turning away to pretend to look at some spaghetti. “Fire when ready.”

Doug glanced nervously down the aisle both ways. Not seeing anyone, he tried to relax and empty his bladder. He felt a trickle come out, and then more, so he said, “Okay.”

She said, “Okay, now ten seconds.”

Doug felt his urine rush out now. He really had needed to go. He watched in horror as his crotch darkened quickly, and then he shuddered as he felt hot pee flowing down his legs, soaking his jeans. (These were the same jeans, in fact, that he’d wet just last week in his bathtub.) The insides of his pants legs turned dark blue, and he felt his socks get warm and wet before he saw his tennis shoes flood and then overflow. It would be unmistakable to anyone who saw him what had just happened. By the time he figured ten seconds was up, he was standing in soaking wet jeans, in a small puddle on the floor.

In a weak voice, he said, “I’m done, um, Mommy.” (Maybe she wouldn’t make fun of him if he buttered her up.) He just wanted to go home and change his pants. They were already turning cold and uncomfortable.

But when Mrs. Warren turned and saw Doug in wet pants, her expression changed to one of anger, something he’d not seen since that first morning last week. He watched her with growing apprehension as she opened her large purse and pulled out what he recognized as one of his diapers. How did she know to bring one, he thought idly. And what was it for?

“Here,” she snapped. “You’ll need this.” She put the diaper in one of his hands and grabbed the other.

She yanked on his arm, dragging him with her in the direction of the registers. He tried to follow, uncertain of what was happening, but acutely aware now of his cold, wet pants. He hoped they were headed outside to the car, but his hopes sank as she led him up to the nearest register. Doug withered with embarrassment as moms and children turned and one by one saw him, wearing wet pants and holding a large diaper.

“Could you tell me where the little boys’ room is?” Mrs. Warren inquired of the young lady at the register. She looked about sixteen and had surprisingly large breasts. Doug couldn’t help staring at her blond hair and beautiful face. Mrs. Warren was not similarly mesmerized: “I’ve got one who needs his pants changed.”

The checkout girl’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Yes, he sure does. He seems a little big to be having accidents.”

Mrs. Warren snorted with derision. “Well, he’s apparently not as big as he seems, is he?”

The girl took a moment to study Doug’s stained jeans. “No, I guess not. Well, that’s what the diaper’s for, right? Too bad for him he wasn’t in one earlier,” she giggled, seeing Mrs. Warren’s obvious anger at Doug. Noting the determination on her face as well, she added, “I bet he’ll wear one from now on. But anyway, the restrooms are in the back corner of the store. You can change him there.”

Doug could have died. He felt his face burn with embarrassment. Could this day get any worse?

“Thank you,” he heard Mrs. Warren say. “And I’m afraid this little boy also left a puddle in Aisle #3. If you give me a minute to get him dressed a little more appropriately, I can have him back out to clean it up in a moment.”

The girl nodded, staring hard at Doug’s pants, clearly trying not to laugh. “That’s fine, but you probably need to see the manager first. She likes to know about things like this, and she can get him a mop or something. Oh, by the way, if you need more diapers for him, we ARE having a sale on Attends down in Aisle 7.”

“Thanks, but we’re very well stocked already. Trust me, we have to be. Now, where is your manager?” The girl pointed at the other front corner of the store, so Mrs. Warren led Doug across the entire front of the store. They passed dozens of people in line to check out, and most of them turned and saw him. Doug started to feel lightheaded. This was horrible.

The manager was on the phone in the customer service area, so they had to wait a moment before talking to her. Mrs. Warren still had an iron grip on Doug’s wrist, and Doug instinctively struggled a little to get her to loosen her grip. At this Mrs. Warren wheeled around with fire in her eyes and swatted his bottom. Since it was damp and undiapered, this stung quite a bit, not to mention the added embarrassment it caused him. He was being treated like a two year old, and the worst thing was, with his wet pants and stinging bottom, he felt just like one, too.

“Don’t you mess with me, young man,” Mrs. Warren said loudly, so that she caught the attention of anyone in nearby lines who wasn’t already staring. “You’ve already done enough.”

“Evidently so,” said the manager, a stout stern-looking woman who had finished her phone conversation and was now studying Doug’s pants with a disapproving gaze. “Looks like you’re a little late with the diaper, young man.”

Mrs. Warren turned her attention to her, but kept a firm grip on Doug’s aching wrist. “Yes, ma’am. I was going to ask you if I could use your restroom to change his pants anyway. Afterward, I was hoping that he could clean up the little puddle he left in Aisle #3 himself, with whatever cleaning implements you might have.”

“Of course,” the manager said. “I’ll leave a bucket and mop in the back hallway for when he’s a little more properly attired,” she said, smiling at the diaper in Doug’s hand. “The restroom is back across the store in the rear corner. And ma’am?” the manager said as Mrs. Warren turned to drag Doug in that direction.

“Yes?” Mrs. Warren replied.

“I don’t mean to give unwanted advice, but while you’re back there, if I were you I’d give that boy’s rear end some attention with my hand. Look’s like he’s earned it.”

Mrs. Warren smiled conspiratorily. “Oh, you read my mind. I’ll apologize ahead of time if we’re rather, well, noisy.”

“No problem. Those rooms are pretty soundproof, and anyway, I’d bet the folks in the store would approve. He has to learn somehow.”

Doug didn’t have any time to speculate on what that exchange meant. He was so embarrassed he wasn’t very aware of what was happening anymore. He was now dragged at what felt like breakneck speed back past all the registers with lines of people whispering, down a side aisle, and to the back corner of the store.

They turned in a short hallway and gound a door marked “Restroom: Men/Women.” Mrs. Warren tried the door, but it was locked. She knocked, and a female voice inside said, “Just a second!”

So they waited. Doug nervously held his diaper and tried to ignore the cold wetness of his pants and the pain in his wrist. Mrs. Warren was silent, staring away from him. Doug wanted to know what would happen in that little room, he didn’t dare bother her. He assumed they would change his diaper and then come out and clean up the mess. He wasn’t looking forward to it. What would really happen would excite him even less, had he known. He spent his time telling himself how dumb he’d been, how he’d never sneak out or not wear his diaper again.

Finally, the door opened and a woman came out. She caught sight of Doug with wet pants and a diaper in his hand, and gasped. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was taking so long.”

Mrs. Warren spoke up right away. “Ma’am, don’t blame yourself. This happened out there in the store because someone wasn’t wearing his diaper like a good boy. I just need the bathroom so I can remedy the situation.”

Doug was finally so embarrassed that he totally tuned out what was happening. He pretended he was somewhere else, and ignored this humiliating experience.

“Oh,” said the woman, with a a knowing look at Mrs. Warren. “Do you think he’s learned his lesson yet?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Warren replied, “but I’ll make sure, just as soon as I can get his pants down in there and turn him over my knee.”

The woman nodded sympathetically. “Well, good luck. Don’t go easy on that wet bottom, or he’ll never learn.”

“Don’t worry,” Mrs. Warren assured her. “He won’t forget this.”

The woman left, and Mrs. Warren pulled a distracted Doug into the small bathroom. She whipped him around and closed and locked the door, then let go of him. While Doug rubbed his wrist, Mrs. Warren sat down on the closed toilet seat. Doug waited to be told to put the diaper on.

Copyright (c) 1995 by Babydoc.

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Not yet kitten!

Not yet kitten!

Bound and trapped in my diaper till its soaked all the way through. Guess Im going to be stuck like this for a while longer~

Order and text by Sadey_Mayfire

Draw by tabitabi

Source: //www.furaffinity.net/view/27808247/

Poor thing looks like he needs to be using his diaper pretty more before he gets his diaper changed.

Demoted

Demoted

Looks like I have a new job role. And I’m only being paid in DIAPERS! GAAAHHH

The cat and text by BabyPandora

Draw by BabyStar

Source: //www.furaffinity.net/view/27776802/

Aww poor thing it sure seems like she is going to have a new job role in the company but it sure dont seems to like the situation. I sure wounder how she is going to do in here new job situation. She sure seems to be fit for the task but maybe she needs to wear some thicker diaper?

Still trapped

Still trapped

A continuation from this piece here //www.furaffinity.net/view/23826308/ Looks like he isn’t getting out anytime soon.

Order by restitution69

Draw and text by BabyStar

Source: //www.furaffinity.net/view/27775890/

Aww poor thing looks like he is going to be forced to stay the night in the messy diaper and the room going to be pretty stinky in the morning. But i sure think bay then that he is going to be looking forward to a diaper change. I sure bet his diaper is going to be pretty well used by then.

Poor thing this is not going to be a fun night for him. I hope that he is manage to get any sleep.

The baby business part 13

Copyright (c) 1995 by Babydoc.

Doug hesitated, then took a small step toward Mrs. Warren. He really didn’t want to do this, but he felt that he had to. He took another step toward her, so that he was now within an arm’s reach of her.

She said, “You can go ahead and pull those jeans down.”

Hands trembling, he moved to obey her, fumbling with his belt. Slowly he undid his belt, unbuckled and unzipped his jeans, and let them slide to the floor, revealing his bulky disposable diaper underneath.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said a bit impatiently, indicating her lap. It always took too long the first time. When he hesitated, she reached up and firmly grasped his ear, causing him to yelp with pain. She pulled him roughly down and felt the familiar plastic of a disposable diaper settle on her lap.

Doug suddenly found himself staring at the floor, and feeling very helpless.

“Is this diaper dirty?” he heard her ask him, for what would not be the last time.

“No,” he whimpered feebly.

“Good,” she said. “Now grab the chair legs with your hands, and don’t let go. I don’t want to have to fight your hands up here. If you let go, we start again from the beginning. Got it?”

“Yes,” came the weak reply. He reluctantly grasped the chair legs with his hands. Then he heard his diaper being untaped, and suddenly felt a breeze meet his bare bottom. He was very scared. His bottom was so vulnerable! He now remembered his childhood spankings, and how helpless he’d felt then. He cursed himself for ever having fantasized about them!

SMACK! The first slap was more painful than he could have imagined, but he had no time to think about it. It rapidly got much worse. And to his surprise Doug found himself crying almost immediately, probably as much due to his being upset about the whole situation as to the painful spanking. It hurt, and it was so humiliating. But he kept his hands on the chair legs like a good boy, because he didn’t want to risk the consequences.

And shortly, Mrs. Warren stopped spanking him. He stopped crying out of surprise. Was that it? It hadn’t lasted as long as he’d feared. It was bad, but it could have been worse. He could almost handle this!

“Doug, why are you getting this spanking?” he heard from above him.

“I don’t know.”

SMACK! “Yes, you do, and call me Mommy.”

“Because…I didn’t shave myself, Mommy.”

He felt her rub his bottom. That felt good. “That’s right. Good boy.” He let out a deep breath, relieved it was over. “I like to make sure my bad little boys know why they’re getting their spankings. We can keep going now.”

And with a painful spank, Doug learned that his trial was not nearly over yet. And he cried again, out of pain and the frustration of being helpless. Twice more she stopped to have him repeat why he was being spanked, and twice more they resumed. It seemed to go on forever, far longer than he’d expected, and it hurt more than anything he could remember. His bottom burned and stung intensely. Finally she stopped, saying,

“Will you remember to shave your bottom now, little boy?”

Gasping, Doug replied, “Yes. Yes, Mommy.”

“Good boy. Would you like Mommy to shave you now?”

“Yes, Mommy,” he sobbed.

“Alright, let’s go upstairs.”

And she stood him up, folding his diaper in one hand. His hands went immediately to his stinging bottom.

“No, no, young man,” Mrs. Warren said, brushing his hands down. “That’s a no-no. We don’t touch our bottoms after our spanking, because that makes it feel better. We want it to hurt for as long as possible, don’t we? That way we keep thinking about what a bad little boy we were. Okay? No touching.”

He choked back tears. “Yes, Mommy.” He hated her. But he kept his hands away from his throbbing bottom.

She led him upstairs to the bathtub, which she filled with warm water and had him sit in. He lowered himself into the water carefully. It hurt to sit down, but he didn’t have a choice. He was going to be good. He didn’t ever want another spankingas long as he lived. He watched as she found some shaving lotion and a razor and lathered up his groin. He bit his lip as she shaved away his pubic hair, starting at the top and moving down around his penis and scrotum. He stayed very still, because he didn’t quite trust her. But she was quite adept with the razor, and had had lots of practice. With a sure hand, she easily took away this vestige of his adulthood, and he looked down in amazement at his bald crotch. It looked so strange.

He lay back and lifted his legs, as instructed, and she continued down around his bottom. Doug idly wondered how long his hair would take to grow back, but he needn’t have. It wouldn’t be an issue for a long time.

When they were done, he let her lead him back into his bedroom, where she diapered him for the first time. She did it tenderly, stroking and rubbing him gently. It felt good, he had to admit. He fought feelings of affection for her as she did this, but it was hard. She was so gentle and loving as she covered him with lotion and powder, lots of powder, and then taped him securely in. It actually felt nice, though he tried to ignore this. This was the same lady who had just spanked him. His ambivalence frustrated him.

Afterward, she picked up the copy of the rules that he had laying by the bed (“Why didn’t I read those?” he asked himself again) and led him, wearing nothing but his diaper, downstairs to the sofa, where she read the rules out loud to him, like a bedtime story.

[READ BUSINESS.RULES]

As he listened to the introduction, he fought the tendency to buy into the philosophy. But it sounded almost reasonable to him, and he wondered if they really did care about him and about helping him. But then again, it was so perverse. How could it be on the level? It was so extremely humiliating, he thought, to be lumped in with people who wet their pants or their beds, and to be treated like he was a baby. And how could they think this would really “help” him? They couldn’t be serious. This wasn’t a joke or a game. They really were going to treat him like a baby, on purpose, because they said he deserved it. The whole thing, “Working toward wearing underpants again,” made him feel so infantile. It really was stupid, he decided, not helpful. They couldn’t fool him.

Other thoughts that ran through his mind as Mrs. Warren read what was to become his bible for the foreseeable future involved how he could fake compliance with these rules. There had to be flaws he could find. He was smart, and he had to be able to figure it out. Unfortunately, he knew, Mrs. Warren was smart, too, maybe even smarter, and she appeared experienced at this job. As she read the diaper rules, he saw how smart she was.

Testing diapers was obviously a good idea, and neutralized many of his first disobedient ideas. He wondered if they really did do it, and how. He was trying to think about how he could fake using the diapers (peeing into them without really wearing them, etc.) when his new Mommy told him how her inspectors look for wetting patterns like splattering that gives away bad babies. Wet diapers have to look right, she said, which is impossible without wearing them. He became even more dismayed about the messy diaper quota and rules. He didn’t look forward to sitting in his messes every time. Sure, it felt good once in a while, when HE decided to do on his own, but being forced to was gross, and would significantly add to his cleanup time. Using a shower would help, but what if he was away from home?

The part about avoiding public bathrooms struck him as being impossible to enforce. Then he remembered how she had gone over with him his shopping and banking habits. She really would know where he was all the time. She also informed him he had to call her whenever he left his apartment to go out. He could just leave a message on her cellular phone mail, so she could keep track of him all the time. But she said she had other “clients.” How did she keep track of all of them? He thought that maybe this was a flaw. He’d have to keep it in mind.

It was when they got to the sex prohibition that he really got depressed. From the moment she read him the rules, he knew he’d never be able to follow them. He could nearly accept being forced to live his secret fetish and ultimate fantasy. It was painful, confining, and humiliating, but at least it was his fetish. He was even now feeling strong sexual urges, and it was these that he thought would make this lifestyle palatable. But no sex? No masturbation? He couldn’t imagine. He now did that daily, and that was without a constant stimulus in contact with him. Being sentenced to be in perpetual contact with his fetish object but never being allowed to climax, this was the best description of hell he could think of. He couldn’t live with that rule. He’d either have to get out of the program (which he was still determined to do) or figure out some way of getting around it.

But his heart sunk as he listened to her precautions. He didn’t know where he could hide the evidence if his diapers, tissues, laundry, and tub/sinks were off limits. Could she really test all of these? That red dye sounded fake. And what if he smuggled home some tissues and then threw them away back at work? Hmmm…

His mind wandered as she read him about his discipline. Spankings, and some wet thing, messy diapers, blah, blah, blah.

How had this happened to him? It had only taken four days for his life to be ruined by two women. He’d just wanted some diapers for this week, for a little kinky fun. Now, he was living a nightmare, forced back into an embarrassing toddlerhood filled with spankings and diapers. He had just allowed himself to be spanked and shaved. He felt so degraded. How could this be real?

But the alternatives were even worse, he told himself. At least this way, the rest of his life was still intact, and if he could somehow still get out of this program, nothing would be lost. He was still on target for his high-paying life of research, somewhere in the future. His dream was still intact, even if he had to sacrifice a little more for a few days or weeks to achieve it.

His attention was refocused when she started talking about termination of the program. Another continence test, which he didn’t want to think about, or a trip to a doctor. That would be embarrassing, sure, but at least it couldn’t be tampered with. At least here was a foolproof way out, if everything else failed and six months from now he was still in diapers. This made him feel better: there was an upper limit to this madness. At the most, this surreal distraction would end in six months, and then he could return to his life.

Mrs. Warren finished her little dramatic reading and helped him tape up copies of the mini-list all over his apartment. She then assured him she’d be back often in the next few days and nights to check on him. After a fond little pat on his diapered behind, she left. Doug watched his Mommy drive away in her pink pastel diaper van, and snaked his hands down the back of his diaper, finally able to rub his still-sore bottom in peace.

Copyright (c) 1995 by Babydoc.

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Three soggy diaper furry – Satuki_rabbi

This three furry sure seems to be in need of a good diaper change. There diapers sure seems to be pretty wet and soggy right now. At least they are wearing some good protection for there bedwetting problems.

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