My name is Jeff and I'll be 30 years old next month. I live with an older man who is 55 years old. He is a very giving person who I've learned to love very much, his name is Marty. I know it may sound strange, being with someone who is as old as my father, but he is very attractive, owns his own construction company, and is very successful. I have known him for most of my life, he was a family friend who never married and was kind of like an Uncle in many ways. He and my mother were best friends and seemed to be together all the time after my father died. My mother passed away 3 years ago due to cancer. After graduation from USC, where I lettered in swimming, I got my first job with NASA in Houston. I hated Houston and was lucky to get laid off. Well, of course I was always in contact with Marty and when I couldn't find a job right away, well, he invited me to come stay with him until I could find something. I had never been to Atlanta before, so what the heck! I packed up all my stuff, which wasn't much and drove to his house. He lives in a beautiful custom home out in the far suburbs of Atlanta; I guess you could call it in the country. It's on a 12-acre parcel with pine trees and a pond. Anyway, I got settled into one of the guest rooms and started looking for a job. Job-hunting proved to be just that, one big hunt. Everything I considered, I was way too over qualified for, being a rocket propellant engineer. I of course talked to many people out at the Kennedy Space Center, but nothing there. Well, in the mean time, I started doing things around the house like washing the windows, some cleaning, and even started cooking the meals. It's funny; I seemed to just fall into doing the domestic chores and really started to find a lot of self-satisfaction in doing these things for him. I really got to where I looked forward to his praise and approval when he got home at night. As time went on Marty kind of expected me to do these kinds of things. After awhile, I kind of just gave up looking for a job, it was just nice to stay at home and do the little things that I knew pleased him. That was two years ago. Things between us gradually changed between us. I might now mention that I have a very fair complexion and sunburn easily. I have curly blond hair with violet eyes, stand 5'6", and weigh 102 pounds. Where as I have a ‘swimmer’s body’, I’ve always had unusually wide hips, plump rounded bottom and muscular thighs, I was always told that my unusual build was helpful in winning swimming matches. Marty on the other hand is an African American man who is 6'7" tall and weighs 360 pounds, most of it muscle . He is like living with a giant! A gentle giant. Anyway, he fell into the habit of expecting me to maintain his home in perfect condition, inside and out. Where I thought I was doing this as a favor to him, he has made it clear that he provides everything I want or require and in return for that, I take care of him. The relationship over the last 2 years has developed into a kind of 'Master and Houseboy' kind of relationship. Oddly, I have been very happy, secure, and comfortable with him in this beautiful home. Last year I moved into his bedroom. He has a very large room, I think it's 30 X 20 feet. He sleeps in his king size bed and I sleep in a single bed, over to the side of his bed. I never considered myself to be gay and I don't think Marty considered himself gay, but we were both lonely and wanted to be close, so I just kind of let myself go with the flow, so to speak. To be held in his big strong arms, to be carried around like a small child, to have all my decisions made for me is just so comforting and the secure feelings, well I'd just do anything for Marty. Anything. Part of my duties is to run the household errands like going to the grocery store, taking our two dogs to the groomers, going to the dry cleaners and of course the trips to Home Depot. Well, while I was out running these errands, Marty would phone me at home and of course I wasn't there. He became more and more insecure about where I was and why I was not at home doing my chores like a good boy. Many nights we had very serious talks about where I was, when I left home, where I went, and when I got back home. I always thought that he was way over reacting. I mean he wanted me to account for every minute I was off the property! I also had to account for every penny I spent, and I do mean every penny. This insecurity he has regarding me, had started eroding our relationship, sometimes you could really feel the tension between us. He finally confided in me that he was afraid that I would meet someone else, while out 'running around'. I tried to assure him that I was not looking for anyone else and that I was firmly in love with him and would do anything for him. He told me that because I was so 'little' and (in his words) so cute, that men were always looking for a guy like me and that I would be easy prey for them. I was blown away! I never considered, because of my looks, I would be attractive to other men. A few weeks later Marty came home from work carrying several boxes, which he took to our bedroom. He put the boxes on his bed and asked me to open them. The first box I opened had a plastic mattress cover, the kind that zips all around the mattress. I looked at him with a question, but he just said that he would help me put it on my bed, so we put it on my mattress, him saying that I would understand soon enough. OK, so I just played along. Opening the other boxes I found 24 adult sized cloth gauze diapers, the 'pre folded' style with the soaker in the middle, diaper pins, baby powder, diaper rash cream, wet wipes. One box contained 12 assorted colored plastic baby panties. I was completely floored! I couldn't hold back the tears any longer! He told me that from now on I would be wearing these diapers full time. I of course said no way! He told me that this was the perfect way for him to feel secure about leaving me home alone. That if I were diapered, like a baby, no other man would be interested in me. Oh, come on! I yelled, no way! Well, one thing led to another and I ended up spanked and diapered that night and I have been in diapers now for 4 and 1/2 months. I just could not get over the change in us after that first night. Of course I woke up in double diapers which were very thick, I mean I could not, with comfort, put my knees together, and the big plastic baby panties were so lousy and “crinkled” when I moved, I just felt terrible. He calls me to his bed and I crawled in, he held me and stroked me through my diapers and explained the rules to me. I was to be in my diapers at all times, all day, every day. My diapers will be 'double diapers' meaning two of the adult diapers pined high on my waist and pined tight. I was to wear plastic pants over them at all times. During the day, when my diapers were 'completely' wet after several wettings I could change my diapers myself. When I had a messy diaper, no matter where I was, I am to phone him on his cell phone and ask for permission to change. All my wet and messy diapers for that day must be put into the large diaper pail in the spare bathroom by the laundry room. He would check the diaper pail each evening when he got home to be sure I was using my diapers just like a baby would. While on the property, I was to wear just my double diapers, plastic baby panties and a short little cut off tee shirt, socks and sneakers. When I have to run an errand I would have to wear my diapers with my stretch jogging pants over them. So here I am lying in his strong arms, stroking me through thick diapers, crying like a little baby trying to understand what all this means. The following evening, I could tell that there was still something on his mind. Talk during dinner was strained and it wasn’t till we were finally in bed that he confided in me that he was completely remorseful about spanking me that first night I was diapered. I of course brightened thinking that first spanking was going to be the last. He continued by saying that he felt that if there were problems requiring discipline that he did not feel comfortable about doing serious ‘correcting’, just said something about his own childhood. He folded me into his arms and with his big hand massaging the front of my thick diapers, he told me that he has discussed this problem with one of his foremen and it was decided that what this relationship needed was a disciplinarian who could be called on at a moments notice. I could feel the blood drain from my face and even felt faint; I was absolutely speechless and then just burst into tears and bawled like a baby. Holding me lovingly he explained that he knew that Ron (the foreman) was gay and would at least be open to talking about the problem. Apparently Ron agreed that spanking was the best kind of punishment for me, considering our relationship. Ron had volunteered to be the ‘designated spanker’. Marty simply told me that if I behaved myself there would not be a reason for me to ever meet Ron. It has been over 4 months with me being in diapers all the time. I have cheated, of course, and it always ends up the same, with me being spanked like a baby, by Ron, for not following the simple rules. It was during the third week of being in diapers full time that I decided that I just could not face the stares I got each time I went to the grocery store. So, being cleaver as I am, when I changed diapers to go out that day, instead of using my normal double diaper, I put on just a single diaper and plastic pants, this greatly reduced the bulk. Feeling that now at least that people would not notice that I’m diapered unless they really studied me. Feeling confident I went shopping. Well wouldn’t you know just as I entered the store, I felt a strong cramp and by the time I was in the check out line, I had filled my diaper with a very soft BM and then flooded them. When I sat down in the car for the drive home I could feel the poop squirt up the back and front of my diaper, I knew then and there that not being properly diapered was a mistake. Sure enough my diapers overflowed and soaked me with runny poop up my back and around each of the elasticized leg holes of my baby pants. I was a mess, I felt miserable, and clean up required a shower. Of course, when Marty happened to check the diaper pail that night he discovered that only one diaper was used that time. He immediately confronted me and I ended up confessing what I had done. He looked so disappointed, so sad standing there looking at the brown single diaper. He turned to me and said “We need to call Ron”. I said, “What?” Marty said, “Yes, come on you little sissy, we will call him together”. We walked into the den and Marty dialed the number and on the speaker phone, I heard Ron answer.
“Hello this is Ron”
“Ron this is Marty, Jamie would like to talk to you”
Marty turned and looked at me expectantly
“Uh, oh, uh, Ron?”
“Yes Jamie, what can I do for you?”
It was clear that Marty wanted me to arrange my own punishment with Ron.
“Ron, I did something today that I was not supposed to do” I said.
“Let me get this straight, Jamie are you saying that you were a bad boy today? Ron asked.
I looked at Marty with tears and pouty lips, he just nudged me to answer the question.
“Well, I guess so…”
“What do you mean? You guess so? Were you a bad boy or not?”
The room stood still.
“Yes, I was a bad boy”, I sobbed.
“Well, it sounds like I need to pay you a visit, you can tell me all about what a bad little boy you were when I see you. Here is want I want you to do”, Ron said.
“I want you to stay at home, not leave for any reason, until I can find the time to visit you. When I do visit I expect you to be properly respectful”.
“Is that understood Jamie?”
“Ok, see you soon, I look forward to finally meeting you, I have heard so much about you!” Ron hung up.
Marty looked at me and shrugged and said, “Well, It’s done, lets forget about it for now”. And that was it for the rest of the evening, Marty seemed happy, seemed to have forgiven me and moved on. I on the other hand was reliving the conversation with Ron. I had never met him and had no clue about him, except now he seemed to be all business. The following day was just like most, Marty off to work, breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. I had just had my morning messy diaper and was sitting down in the kitchen and about to phone Marty to ask about changing my messy diaper, when the door bell rang. Ron was 6’ 4”, 260 pounds, dishwater blond hair, blue eyes and I must say one of the most rugged good looking guys I have ever seen. I blushed from head to toes standing in front of this stranger in nothing but big cloth diapers and plastic baby panties. The fact that I had been sitting in poopy diapers made it all the worse. What timing! Ron just swept into our home and by the time I had closed the door, he had already pulled a dining room chair out to the center of the living room. Seated he just motioned for me to come to him. I froze. He just look and me a waited. “Jamie, I want you standing right here in front of me NOW!”. I jumped and moved to where he pointed. It was so strange, him seated there, me standing in front of him, between his knees. he didn’t say anything at first, he was kind of playing with my plastic pants, kind of patting them all over, testing what might the condition of my diaper be, I know he could smell it, I could. Then he started telling me how ridiculous I was, a grown man in diapers just like a baby, going to be spanked just like a baby. I wanted to turn and run, but knew I could not. He told me to go and get cleaned up, take a bath, and get clean diapers on. I ran to the bath room. When I came back into the living room, where Ron was still seated on the chair. He took one look at me and just started yelling at me, that I had better show respect for him and get over here. Standing in front of this man, dressed in my thick diapers and pink plastic baby panties, I soon realize that this ‘spanking’ is going to be real punishment. I spent the next few minutes telling him about how hard it is to be out in public in diapers and that I thought it would be better to be ‘single’ diapered. On and on it went till “I fully understood that I broke one of my rules”. I was so humiliated standing there as he freely played with my plastic pants and seemed amused about me, a grown man, being punished and diapered.
In the blink of an eye I found myself over his knee, diapers pulled down and spanked until I thought I would faint. I was still standing in the corner when Marty came home, he was not pleased about having to wait for dinner.
I did not need a repeat spanking so I came to realize that somehow, Marty can always tell if I am not telling the whole truth. So I have just given up and stay in my diapers all the time. I have to say that after the original shock of going out diapered, I still am so aware when someone figures out I’m diapered. I just keep saying to myself, “I know I don’t ‘have’ to wear these big baby diapers, I do it because Marty makes me, so it’s not my fault”. This somehow makes me feel less responsible for being in this situation. He on the other hand has told me that the diapers have helped him feel more secure about me. I agree, believe me, when I am done with shopping, I do come right home, I mean, standing in line at the grocery store wearing, plain high top white tennis shoes, tight little blue shorts that don’t quite cover my yellow plastic baby panties. I just know everyone can tell I'm diapered. So it is working, we have never been closer. So, this brings me to my first question: If a person stays in diapers for a long period of time, is it probable that he could become incontinent? The reason why I ask is that now it seems I go to bed in dry diapers and am starting 3 or 4 times a week, waking up in wet diapers. I am afraid that if I were not diapered, the plastic sheet on my bed would be put into real use. The other thing is that when I am washing dishes or running water of some kind, I notice my diapers getting warm and wet with out thinking I had to pee. Things have really been good; I just have that fear of being in diapers for life. Marty bought me a new car just last month. It’s a mustang convertible, but wouldn’t you know it, it is powder blue with a white top and white interior. It looks like a baby carriage with the top down! Seems many things have changed over the last 4 months. I have started to take much better care of myself. You would not believe how little time there is in a day when I am doing all my normal chores plus 'taking care of a baby'. I have to change my diapers at least 6 times a day and Marty wants me to drink 4 large bottles of water a day because it helps keep my pee clearer to help prevent diaper rash, what it also has done is increase the number of times I pee during the day and night. I now spend at least 2 hours 'making myself presentable' for Marty when he gets home from work. There is just no time for myself anymore. I start at 5PM with a really hot bubble bath with Johnson's baby bath and shampoo. I check my whole body for any hair that might be trying to grow out. I keep myself completely hairless except for my head, just the way he likes it. I love to soak and relax in the tub, one of my favorite times of the day. After my bath, it's onto my bed for fresh diapers. I use extra baby powder and use KY jelly in my little rose bud, just in case Marty is interested... I like to try to be attractive to him and I know what he likes so I spend lots of time with doing my toenails and fingernails in a light pink polish. I put frosty white plastic baby panties on over my big bulkily diapers and then a little baby doll PJ top. My favorite is the pink one with puffy little sleeves and cute collar with very dainty lace everywhere. I often use a curling iron and put a bow in my hair. Recently I have started using lip-gloss, strawberry is my favorite. Honest, when I look at my self in the mirror, before going out to set the table for dinner, I almost faint! My other question is this. I want to come up with a good argument for him letting me at least wear disposable pull-ups when I go run my errands. It is just so embarrassing to be out there in little white sweats, cut off tee shirt with plastic panties poking out. I just know everyone can tell that I am in diapers! When I approach him on this, he just picks me up and carries me to the bedroom and stands me in front of the large closet mirror and asks me what I see. I always have to tell him that I see a young man who looks like a sissy in diapers. He tells me that is what he wants me to look like when I go out, so other men will not 'hit' on me. What can I do to convince him? Sorry about this being so long, I would appreciate your honest answers to my two questions. You may reach me at firstname.lastname@example.org
written by: Jeff