Damp Pamps

They say when potty training, it’s best to put their undies inside the diaper. That way, when they pee, they can feel the wetness more before it gets absorbed by the padding. The revolting feeling helps program them to want to use the potty.

I took that to heart.

Billy came to me a few weeks back and literally got down on his knees, begging me to let him out of diapers. It started out as a punishment, my friend Maddison recommended it. She said it worked wonders for her husband. He never left his socks, towels, or boxers on the floor ever again—partly because he was no longer wearing boxers.

So when I started it with my husband, well, let’s just say I got a little carried away. I just had so much fun seeing that look on Billy’s face. The one where he tries his darndest to hold it in. The way he squirms and whimpers and whines until he finally loses control. God it’s such a thrill.

So when he came to me, pleading to be out of Pampers, I was not willing to give up that power at all. Not even a little bit. So, instead, I concocted a sadistic plan.

******

“Please! I have to go!” Billy whined.

“I’m sorry,” I said apathetically, “but I put you on the potty earlier and you refused to go.”

He didn’t refuse. He just couldn’t. I specifically put him on the tiny princess potty directly after he wet his morning diaper.

“But I couldn’t go then!” He argued, saying what we both knew to be true, but that didn’t stop me from patronizing him.

“Ohhh, I know, sweetheart. It’s hard for your wittle baby brain to get accustomed to using a potty, isn’t it? It seems that your body much prefers using diapers…”

He continued babbling and whimpering about something or the other as we turned into the driveway. We’d just gotten back from a very long trip to the mall. Billy spent the first half blushing and trying to minimize the crinkling of his diaper under his shorts. He spent the second half squirming and trying to hold in his incessant need to urinate. The ICEE and the bottle I made him finish at the Food Court probably didn’t help matters. I asked him if he wanted me to take him into the ladies room, pull his pants down, and let them see his diapers while he tried to pee in the potty, but for some reason he didn’t like that idea…

“Pleease hurryy Mommyy,” he cried as I took my sweet time unbuckling him from his carseat. “I need to go potty! I need to go pottyyy!!”

He frantically waddled up the drive and walkway. He turned and waited for me to grab all the bags from the car, but there were just so many, I couldn’t possibly grab them in a timely manner…

Realizing his error, he came back to help me, looking flustered and in an immense amount of pain. His bladder must have been full to bursting.

Such a pity.

He dropped the bags as soon as I let him into the house.

“I’m gonna go use the potty, Mommy!!” He screeched, he sounded so infantile for a 34 year old.

But poor baby Billy was so addled by his call of nature that he’d forgotten I keep the door to the bathroom locked. There’s just too many dangerous chemicals stored in bathrooms that diaper boys shouldn’t be playing with.

He jiggled the lock impatiently.

“Mommy Mommy!!” He cried, “I need you to unlock the door! I need to go potty!! PLEASE!”

His cries were so desperate. God it got me going!

“Oh, silly me.” I made a show of patting myself down. “Now where did I put that key…”

His eyes went wide. “Mommmyyyy come onnn…”

“Oh come now, it must be around here somewhere…”

Billy scurried around left and right, as if he had a chance of finding the tiny key I'd hidden in the flower pot last night.

It made for a good show, though, watching him dart around the foyer, checking anything and everything. I feigned looking as well. Unfortunately it wasn’t under the couch cushions…

Then he stopped.

He let out the most pitiful whimper, stomping his feet. I actually thought he was throwing a temper tantrum at first. Instead, he was cursing himself. Probably cursing me too.

The look of defeat on his face as his diaper began to swell was priceless. His displeasure was mixed with satisfied relief. It was quite the conundrum going on in his poor little head.

“What happened, sweetheart?” I asked innocently.

He couldn’t find the words, he was probably still peeing, so I asked him again. I wanted to hear him say it.

“I…pissed myself…” he sounded so defeated, so filled with shame.

“Watch your mouth.”

“I…I wet my diapy, Mommy.” He corrected. Billy squeezed his legs together, like there was a much ickier feeling than a normal wet diaper. It was the panties he had underneath, I can almost guarantee they were a darker shade of grey now.

I put a comforting–yet condescending–hand on his shoulder. “Awww…there, there…it’s okay, pumpkin! It happens sometimes. Well…peeing in a diaper does seem to happen pretty often for you, but that’s okay!! It’s hard for some people. Let Mommy get you changed…”

I thought about taking him to the nursery, the one I made him build for himself. I even made him paint and decorate the walls with pinks and rainbows, there was even a nice little changing table in there. But I figured it would be better to put him on our marital bed, the one he used to sleep in.

“Shhh…it’s okay sweetheart.” The tears were welling as I pulled his silly shorts off. His diaper was quite plump, even from just a single wetting. He really must have been holding it for a while.

Billy covered his face with his hands, as if that would make it all go away. It was quite adorable. I untaped his diaper and opened it up to display his sodden underwear.

“Oh dear…these are soaked!” I exclaimed, stating the obvious. Billy continued to blubber behind his hands. He had suffered through this ordeal enough to know what was coming.

“I’m not touching these…” I said resolutely, “I guess I’ll need to get the scissors.”

“No!” He gasped, opening his palms like a window so I could see the horrified look on his face. “No!! Mommy, please!! It’s my last pair!!”

“Is it?” I asked nonchalantly, “I had no idea…”

But of course I did. I’d been counting down the days. Counting down the pairs of stained, hole-ridden, hideous boxers in what was left of Billy’s big boy drawer. One by one they were put inside his diaper, dampened, and then diced. Even his pretty panties had sequentially met their demise.

“I won’t have any left after this!!”

“Not to worry, honey, you’ll still have plenty of diapers!!”

He was sobbing now. Any shred of dignity was out the window as he blubbered and writhed on top of his pissy pamper.

“Why are you getting so upset over your big boy undies? I can’t say you need them. I’ve tried teaching you to use the potty, to control your silly willy, to learn how to keep your sheets and underwear clean, but you just can’t seem to do so. You’ve soiled or semened every single pair of big boy undies you have, even your big girl undies too! But we just can’t seem to make it stick. It was a noble attempt, but it seems you just aren’t ready to be out of diapers. Maybe in a few years, when you’re older, we can try again. Now hold still…Mommy doesn’t want to nick you…”

There was a fresh batch of tears as I sheared through the first bit of fabric. He was whining into his hands again, something about how it wasn’t his fault, that he can control himself, and some other nonsense.

I slowly, methodically cinched the blades, snipping and sliding and snipping and sliding.to the sound of his wails. I even started feeling guilty, so I stopped when I got to his waistband.

He paused, wondering why I too had ceased. He pulled his hands from his face again. It was stained with a mixture of tears, snot, and saliva. Then he looked up at me with those pitiful dewy doe eyes. He looked so helpless, so innocent, all splayed out on his dirty diaper in his nursery room with only a shred of masculinity left.

It was then I knew that everything I’d ever done, everything I’d made him do:It was all worth it.

I took the scissors out of my hand, and carefully placed them in his.

“I want you to do the honors.”

“Wh-what?” he was practically in shock.

“Cut it.” I said, “Your last pair. I want you to do it.”

He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Like he couldn’t believe I would make him strip away the last little bit of anything resembling his adult life. But then his eyes closed, and he tucked his chin in. It was like he’d finally accepted the things I’d been telling him, or at least come to terms with it. This was no longer a punishment, it was a new way of life.

His bottom lip quivered as he gently slid the shears between his skin and the waistband. It was like a ceremonial ribbon being cut.  With a tiny snip, his old life had been stripped away, and a new one had just begun.

The End.

Shout out to Umdiapersplease for winning the cover competition! Thank you to all those who submitted and voted!!

PPS: I had to delete the original picture because it violated Patreon's terms. Please understand everything on my blog is done by consenting ADULTS. Nothing involves--or even implies--any underage persons.