He felt the diaper expand beneath him, but not nearly enough as wet, mushy poop filled his seat and spread out.
His bowels kept on pushing as if acting on some kind of muscle memory that had faded (but not disappeared) with potty training.
His front side became equally warm and wet, with his bladder deciding to get in on the act.
If the swelling and ballooning in the back of his diaper wasn’t bad enough, the meteors on the front of the diaper started fading with the wetness, disappearing from the front and marking his shame.
Mommy’s kisses to his forehead helped, but not much.
“That’s right baby. Be good and use your diaper.”
Never before had he been so degraded, so humiliated.
He’d just filled his pants like a giant toddler.
Not even a toddler;
toddlers could at least find a place to hide before they soiled themselves.
He’d just done it all while lying down.
And it was all on camera.
He was ruined.
Ruined!
If he ever got out of line, she’d ruin him.
Douglas wasn’t much to begin with, but now if he did see a rise in his station he could be brought right back down into the playpen!
“Noooooooo”
Melissa stroked his forehead.
“Don’t worry, Dougie, Mommy will change you.
She’s used to cleaning up your messes.
The diaper just makes it easier.”
She walked back over to the dresser and laid her hand on the stack of diapers.
“All you have to do is ask.”
“Please!” Doug blurted out.
“Please what?”
“Please change me! Please change my diaper!”
“Please…who?”
“Please Mommy! Please! Please change my diaper, Mommy!”
His girlfriend…no…his Mommy did seem pleased.
But she didn’t pick up a fresh diaper.
Not right away.
Instead, she opened the dresser drawer and took out an electric buzz cutter, a can of shaving cream, a towel and a straight razor.
“I will,” she told him. “But first I have to do something for you.
You don’t look like a big boy with your hair all messy like that, but you definitely don’t look like Mommy’s precious boy.”
She smiled. “Let’s fix that.”
“Mommy! No, don’t! I’ll be good! I promise!”
“I know you’ll be good, baby Douglas,” she said. “Because you’re not getting out of that messy diaper until I make you all nice and clean up top.
Something appropriate for job interviews.
The longer it takes me to clean you up, the more likely it is you’re gonna get a nasty rash.”
She stole a look at the camera.
“Or I could just send this video out, right now.
Would you like that?”
Doug already knew the answer to that.
So did Mommy.
She wasn’t Melissa right now, rather some horrific persona Melissa had concocted.
He stayed as still as he could, trembling as she shorn his hair like a sheep down to a buzz cut, and shaved his face until it was (perhaps literally) baby smooth.
All the while, Douglas was in a special kind of agony, trying not to move or talk too much even as his diaper cooled and became itchy and smelly.
He felt the diaper expand beneath him, but not nearly enough as wet, mushy poop filled his seat and spread out.
His bowels kept on pushing as if acting on some kind of muscle memory that had faded (but not disappeared) with potty training.
His front side became equally warm and wet, with his bladder deciding to get in on the act.
If the swelling and ballooning in the back of his diaper wasn’t bad enough, the meteors on the front of the diaper started fading with the wetness, disappearing from the front and marking his shame.