Visit to Orlando: Baby Chad Part II

I wrote the Part I to this story in April, 2011. It has proven to be one of the most popular entries I've ever written. I've gotten at least a dozen different people emailing and texting me asking when it's going to be finished. Including Baby Chad himself. So I want to apologize to each of you for taking so long to do it. I'm betting some of those who have contacted me probably have lost the link to my blog since the messages started coming in. 

I'm writing this now because I was fortunate to have a surprise visit from Baby Chad a week ago. He was visiting Orlando with his family, and came up with a reason to escape for the day. I want to write about that, too. But before I do, I have to finish the visit from March 2011. 

You can read about that visit by clicking the link below; it opens in a new window. Then come back here and keep reading.

 http://abysitter.blogspot.com/2011/04/visit-to-orlando-baby-chad.html

And the story continues...

I originally didn't think I'd be spending the night with Chad. 

I planned to toddlerize him, play a little, and head home. But dinner had happened, and during and after dinner he'd made it clear how much he had been looking forward to this. As much as I hate people who squirt and merc, I knew that I couldn't just come and run... I was going to have to stay late. Way, way late. And I was a little on the tired side. Hmm...

We'd spent about two hours with Chad in toddler mode. I was surprised at how easy it was. I'd spent the first fifteen minutes rubbing Chad's tummy and talking. At some point I decided to get up and had over to the window to close the curtains. As I did I heard Chad flop down on the floor behind me. I turned and watched as he crawled across the floor to me. 

"Am I doing it right, sir?" he asked me, a very serious look on his face. 

"Except for the part where you're talking, sure," I answered. I closed the curtain and turned around to find Chad right up on me. 

"I love, love, love crawling, Cwis," he near-whispered. I had to laugh; the hotel room was not large, and the only space for crawling was between the window and the door. Still, I decided to give him lots of opportunity. I took my car keys out of my pocket and tossed them across the room; they hit the door and fell. 

"Bring Cwis his keys?" I asked him. He nodded excitedly and crawled lightening-fast across the floor, scooping my keys up and bringing them back to me within fifteen seconds. "Good boy!" I exclaimed, tousling his hair. I tossed them again and, before I could even speak, he was off. His bum was framed perfectly in the Cushie, and I realized that I could watch him crawl back and forth all damn night. And he didn't seem to mind; Chad had a huge smile on his face. A few more round-trips to the door, though, and I could tell he was beginning to get the beginnings of rug burn. I ordered him to lay on his back and sat next to him, rubbing his tummy while he made soft little baby sounds, contentedly. 

After a while I asked Chad if he wanted a bottle. The look on his face was one of sheer joy, and he nodded vigorously, repeating the words "yes, sir" over and over. I aimed to please. I walked across the room and pulled one out of the diaper bag. Chad squealed a little and crawled over to me excitedly. I looked around the room. There was a mini-fridge. I figured there wasn't much chance it contained anything, and I was right. I opened it and Chad instantaneously exclaimed something about having forgotten the milk. I laughed, and then walked over to the sink and ran the water until it turned hot. I filled the bottle with hot tap water, checked it on my wrist - big smile from Chad - and then walked over to him with it. 

I looked around the room. One easy chair, and it sucked. No way I'd be able to pull Chad into my lap in that thing. No sofa... damn. So it was a choice between the bed or the floor. 

"Bed? Or floor?" I asked him. He looked confused, so I decided for him and pointed to the spot in front of the TV. He obediently crawled to it, and I sat down, my back up against the bed, and called him to me. He lay down, his head across my lap, and looked up at me expectantly. Definitely not the most comfortable spot for a bottle feeding, but it would have to do. 

I turned the baby bottle upside down over his tummy and let a little water squirt out onto him. He quivered, and I could tell he was really into his infant role. I checked it on my wrist again, although truthfully it hadn't been too hot the first time, and then put the nipple to Chad's lips. He took the bottle and began sucking, slowly at first and then more rapidly. 

"Not too fast, or baby'll get gassy," I warned him. He giggled, and then laughed, and then choked on the water. He began coughing, and something - water or saliva - got me in my eye. This or the expression on my face must've made Chad laugh even more, because he couldn't stop laughing. I gave him a stern look and he calmed down and began sucking again. Slurrrrrrp. 

"Close your eyes," I told him, and he did, mumbling "yes, sir" as best he could with the business end of a baby bottle in his mouth. I began to lightly rub his tummy as he sucked, and I could tell from his smile that he was loving every second of it. 

The bottle was finished, but neither of us moved. I reached for the remote and found that it was just out of reach. I had hoped to turn on the Disney Channel, or something else babyish, but that wasn't happening without moving Chad, and Chad didn't seem willing to move. As if to confirm, he opened his eyes and looked up at me. 

"I know you're in charge, sir," he said, "but can we please not watch TV? I want you to tell me a stowy instead." His use of baby talk was adorable, and I couldn't resist. I asked him whether he wanted a true story or a made up story, and he didn't even think for a moment. "I want you to tell me the story you blogged about, from the cottage." I had blogged about the cottage a few times, and wasn't sure which story he meant. I asked him to clarify and he got me started. I finished the story he was talking about, and realized after it had taken me thirty minutes to do so. I must've gotten really into it. Damn. 

Still, Chad wanted an encore. 

"Tell me another one, Cwis!" he asked in an almost-begging tone. "Another stowy!" 

So I did. We sat for more than ninety minutes while I told a few different stories. Chad seemed in heaven, so peaceful, just smiling and giggling at the funny parts. I told him the story of a close call in the Pampz-for-pay category and he opened his eyes, blinking, and looked at me very seriously. 

"I think from now on you should just meet real babies who want to be diapered because it's what they're into," he told me. I agreed. He closed his eyes, and let out an audible sigh. I could tell this kid was actually worried about me, and it felt pretty good. 

We'd been on the floor for two hours and my back hurt. I ordered him up into bed, and he scampered up happily and bounced up and down on the mattress a number of times before laying down. 

"Front or back?" he asked me. I looked confused, so he repeated, "front or back... do you want me on my front? Or my back?" 

"Front," I told him. I love a hot diapered ass, and wanted to stare at it a little more. Truthfully I wanted to go to town on it - this was one of the hottest dudes I'd ever had the good fortune to diaper. But I had decided that I was going to give Baby Chad a nice, positive experience. He was new to all of this, and I didn't want to take advantage. Besides, I - 

"This is the part where you hump, right?" 

Chad cut into my thoughts with a question. I must have looked visibly shocked, because he began giggling loudly and shook his head. 

"I've read every single one of your blog entries," he told me. "I know how this goes down. And I know that, at some point, you're going to hump." 

I thought about this for a second. It was getting late, and I was getting pretty tired. We'd spent time eating, and time feeding, and time story-telling. And now, time humping? Hmm...

"Actually, Chad, I wasn't really going to do that," I told him. 

I could tell by the look on his face, immediately, that he was disappointed. He looked completely confused, as well. He began shaking his head and his face turned red. 

"Why?" he asked me. 

I began to explain about how it was getting late and I wanted him to have fun - 

"I am having fun. And it's not that late."

Easy for you to say, I told him. You're about half my age. I used to stay up late too when I was - 

"But you're spending the night, right?" he asked. 

I actually hadn't planned to spend the night. It hadn't even occurred to me. I figured he probably had things to do the next day, and besides - 

"I know you're spending the night," he told me. "But what I don't know is why you don't want to hump. You always hump." 

It was adorable that this kid had read my blog entries and come to the conclusion that he knew how every single diapering session went down. Truthfully, there were times that I didn't hump. Or do anything sexual. And I had planned on this being one of those times. I began to explain, again, that it was late, and I was getting tired - 

"So spend the night and hump in the morning?" Chad pleaded. 

Never had I had someone so intent on having me hump. What the fuck? Sometimes I felt guilty, wanting to hump but not sure if the other person was down for it. That's partly why I am so comfortable with the Pampz-for-pay model: when you're dropping a dub on it, the other person pretty much does what you want, almost-no-questions-asked lol. With ABDLs there are fantasies and preferences involved. I've diapered ABDL's who demanded that I urinate on them and squeeze their testicles; I've diapered ABDL's who demanded that there be no sexual component whatsoever. And I've diapered many, many ABDL's (and non-ABDL's) who are cool with humping. But none so willing as Chad. 

I looked at Chad, and he looked back at me with this adorable little puppy dog eyes face. I couldn't resist. 

"Are you sure it's cool if I spend the night?" I asked. 

He nodded vigorously. 

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" I asked him. 

"Hanging out with my big bwo," he answered without even thinking about it. 

"You don't have plans with your school?" I asked him. 

"Not anymore," he told me. I questioned this to myself, but decided we could talk about it in the morning. I nodded and pulled the covers up, pointing. Chad obediently rolled towards me and crawled underneath them. "Not since you wouldn't hump before bed," he whispered, almost to himself. I laughed. I walked around, turned off all the lights, and put my cell phone on the charger before pulling up the covers and laying down next to him. I thought about pulling Chad over to me, but before I could he inched over and maneuvered his body so it would be half up on me. The warmth of his body was an awesome feeling in the air conditioned room, and I reached underneath him, putting my hand on his bottom and gently rubbing it. He cooed. 

"I snore a little," I warned him. 

"I wet a little," he told me in response. 

I laughed, and he did too. And then we lay together until I felt what he was talking about, as he flooded his Cushie and I felt the warmth on my leg. Twenty minutes later, he was sleeping. Ten minutes after that, so was I.

The sun was streaming in all around the curtain when I woke up. Chad was still sleeping. I rubbed his bottom for a minute or two until his eyes opened. He looked up at me and grinned. 

"I honestly thought you'd sneak out in the night, sir," he told me. I laughed and assured him I wouldn't do that. "I wasn't sure," he told me. "You didn't want to hump, so I figured..." 

His voice trailed off, and it occurred to me that this dude thought I wasn't attracted to him or something. I was completely caught off guard. Chad was, as I've said above, one of the most attractive people I'd ever diapered. And his ass... OMFG. I wanted to hump. But it was his first time being diapered by someone, and I didn't want to spoil that if he had any later regrets. 

"Chad," I explained, "I do want to hump. But - "

"Now?" he asked expectantly. I shook my head. "Later, then?" 

I nodded. I was locked in for some hump time. 

"But first, let's go to breakfast," I said. He looked concerned, and there was a weird pause. "That okay?" I asked. 

"Actually, sir, I spent all my money on dinner last night. I was thinking maybe I'd get breakfast here in the hotel, but... we slept through it." I had to laugh. 

"I got breakfast," I told him. He looked around the room, as if looking for a jar of baby food or something. "Not with me," I explained. "Waffle House or something."

"OH!" he exclaimed. "We don't even have those! But.... I can't pay." 

"I mean I got this, bro," I said. "I mean... I'll pay." 

"Cwis, I can't ask you to pay for me," Chad said. I could tell that he was completely serious. He'd dropped about $50 on dinner the night before - all of his money, apparently - and I'd spent the entire night laying up on him. Or vice versa. And he didn't want to let me play for breakfast. 

"Nah, I got it," I insisted. I stood up and walked to the end of the bed, pulling him towards me with his feet. He closed his eyes and put his thumb in his mouth. He looked pretty happy. I took his soaked Cushie off and balled it up, tossing it into the waste basket. I love the smell of wet diaper, and Chad smelled great... a mixture of wet bum and baby powder. It was almost a shame to wipe him. But wipe him I did, and diaper him - another Cushie for the road trip. I let him get dressed and off we went. 

No close calls in the lobby, so we dove to the nearest Waffle House according to my Garmin, one which actually happened to be about a mile away. The breakfast was pretty uneventful, except for the waitress calling him "baby" and me "sir" - and Chad continuously giggling. I felt old, but it was cute, and I had to laugh. In the middle of the meal he pulled out a pacifier and set it on the table. I looked at him, surprised, and he smiled and mouthed the words just in case. Okay, whatever. 

After breakfast I asked him what he wanted to do. Chad explained that he'd already seen much of Orlando's theme parks. But he hadn't seen the real Orlando yet. 

"What do you mean, the real Orlando?" I asked him. I thought I knew, but I wasn't sure - I wondered why a college student visiting Disney, Epcot, and Universal would want to see the city. 

"I want to get the tour, sir," he explained. "I want to see what you see every day... the real Orlando." 

I instantly had an idea. Chad was visiting from a pretty country place, and his college was also kind of country. He'd already told me he hadn't visited too many places before. I thought... let's drive around Orlando's city center. Away we went. 

I took Chad to Lake Eola Park. For anyone who's not familiar with Orlando, Lake Eola is smack dab in the middle of downtown, beneath high rise apartments and office buildings. It's a nice park, with a walking trail encircling a man-made lake and a fountain, although the fountain was either not working or turned off on this day. Still, we walked around, Chad in his tight athletic pants and bulky diaper. His pants were kind of see-through, and I could clearly tell he was wearing a diaper, although it didn't seem like anyone else was noticing. 

On our second lap Chad stopped to get a drink. He turned to me and murmured something about being glad he was diapered so he wouldn't have to go into the bathroom if he had to pee. I laughed, and the serious look on his face made me ask if he had a fear of public restrooms or something. 

"No, sir," he replied. Then he looked around to make sure nobody was listening. "But this park is full of... homeless people!" 

Chad would talk openly about diapers, but lowered his voice to talk about homeless people. That was... cute. But he was right. Lake Eola has long been known as a place for the economically challenged to congregate, and sometimes the steps would be filled with people who, while maybe not homeless, might appear to many to be. As a regular visitor to Lake Eola when I lived closer to it I'd gotten used to it. I didn't even noticed them anymore, really. But I could tell from Chad's expression and tone of voice that he was really taken aback by it all. I asked if they didn't have homeless people where he came from - half joking, really. 

"If people were homeless where I came from, they would die," he told me, quite serious. "It is snowy and cold there right now. You couldn't survive if you were homeless."

"I'm sure you have homeless people," I told him. "I mean, every community -"

"If we do, I don't know where they live," Chad cut me off. The irony of his words obviously escaped him, and he continued, "We seriously have no shelters or anything. You never see homeless people, panhandlers, none of that. Everyone in my town seems to have somewhere to go." 

Just then a panhandler walked up to us and asked for money. I began to tell him no - you have to at Lake Eola; if someone sees you are willing to contribute you might as well just walk around the park handing out money. But then...

"I'm really sorry, man," Chad began, in a very serious tone of voice. "I don't have anything. I'm actually visiting here from out of state, and I spent every dollar I had last night. I don't really carry cash, and..." 

I could see that the man was already tired of listening to Chad. And I felt bad seeing how bad Chad felt that he couldn't give the man money. I felt bad for Chad, so I pulled out my wallet, handed the man a dollar, and watched him walk off with a simple god bless. Chad looked satisfied that he'd been able to be a part of it all. I looked over at the line of homeless people on the steps, and realized that all eyes were on us. Chad had probably never been asked for money before. Stay in Orlando for a while... it gets old fast, I thought. And then it hit me: I had Chad for the day. Why not give him an education of what life is like for other people? 

"Let's go for a drive," I told him. Yes, sir, and then he obediently followed me. We walked back to the car and got in, and I told him to put his paci in. He did. I got in and we drove off. I knew exactly where we would go... 

I took Chad to Orange Blossom Trail. 

Orange Blossom Trail - or OBT to the locals - is a relic of a bygone era. Once one of the main throughfares through Orlando, it was where tourists stayed before Walt Disney came into his town and changed the landscape. It still has hotels built in the 1940s and 1950s, but now they're more likely to be the weekly-rent homes of prostitutes and drug dealers. 

When I lived downtown I would sometimes get in the car at 11 at night and just drive up and down OBT for a few hours. I'd be diapered, and I'd stop for a cup of coffee (or two lol) and cruise as I listened to the radio. At my end: a gay bar. At the other end: Alligator World. I'd drive back and forth and just watch the action. OBT never sleeps, and by the time I was finished my diaper would be soaked and I'd be ready to sleep myself. 

But I digress.

It was about noon on a warm winter day, and we were already close to Orange Blossom Trail so I drove to it and, on the way, explained all of this to Chad. He didn't say much, just alternating between looking at me and looking out his window. It was still early on a Sunday and, besides church-goers, there wasn't much going on. I knew that would change soon. I started off on the end with the gay bar and, as we drove past it, explained what it was. 

"Whoa," Chad exclaimed, surprising me. "A gay bar? Like... a bar for just gay people?" 

It occurred to me how young Chad was. Fresh into his second semester of college, and on his first trip out of state (or so it seemed), and the kid had never heard of a gay bar. I wondered if he'd ask me to take him into it, but then he stopped me... 

"I don't believe in bars," he told me. "I don't drink. Why can't they have a gay something else? A gay gym, maybe?" I had to laugh. Chad had a lot to learn. I just told him I didn't know and moved on. 

We headed south, driving along OBT. I explained what we'd be seeing as we went. There would be a panhandler at the offramp to the 408, an old black man who worked that corner like it was his job. I told Chad I didn't know why the man didn't work, since his hours on that corner were pretty much a working man's hours, anyway - he was always there whenever I took that exit. Always. Sure enough, he was there, and Chad looked surprised. I had been joking about why he didn't work - I was sure there were probably plenty of reasons - but Chad started to throw out ideas (maybe he was injured... maybe he was retired and just needed fun money...) and I threw out a few of my own (maybe he was a felony offender and couldn't find work... maybe he was addicted to alcohol...); I could tell Chad preferred his suggestions to mine, and we drove along in silence for a minute or two.

"Next up: prostitution," I warned him. He swung his head to look at me. 

"Where?!" 

I explained that we'd be driving along a spot noted for having prostitutes, and he started trying to spot one. I could tell he'd never seen a hooker before, either, and I suddenly wondered if this trip had been a good idea. I decided that, as long as we talked after, it would all work itself out. I hoped so, anyway. 

"Oh my god, look at her!" Chad exclaimed. He pointed, and I wanted to correct him and tell him look at HIM but decided against it. As we drove along we spotted several obvious prostitutes, and I marveled at how many there were for a Sunday morning. I decided this would be a good time for a life lesson, and explained to Chad that one could never be sure if someone was a prostitute, a police officer, or just a person with poor fashion sense. The last part had been a joke, but Chad was stuck on police officer, and he wanted to know more. Was prostitution a felony? Could someone go to prison for it? I explained that the worst that would happen is that someone would get arrested, get their name in the paper, and the humiliation that went along with that. 

"Is that why you stopped paying people to wear diapers?" Chad asked me. 

My face turned red, I'm sure. Here I was trying to teach Chad a little bit about a world he had yet to experience, and he was recalling blog entries that had already given me away. In truth, I hadn't been writing with Chad in mind as my audience when I wrote those; I'd been thinking of the many people I've come to know within our community, people who are pretty worldly. I explained that, while having gotten to know actual ABDLs was the chief reason, I did consider that. I also wanted to be a better example to the ABDL community, since my blog had taken off, but I didn't get into all of that. In my head I was thinking, should I go delete some blog entries? Damn. I explained to Chad that, even worse than arrest, someone could catch HIV or other STDs from prostitutes - or really anyone that they had sex with that they didn't know. 

"Is that why you hump?" he asked, totally serious. I rolled my eyes. The true answer was that, after years of humping, ejaculating for me is fairly impossible without a diaper on. But I didn't want to get into all of that with him, so I just said something like that, bro and we drove on. 

We'd gone about as far as I'd planned, and seen quite a few interesting things, when I turned off onto another road. I was headed for a Dunkin' Donuts to get some coffee and explained this to Chad. He told me that he didn't drink coffee - didn't like the taste - but he'd take a hot cocoa. As we drove along he mentioned that he already had to go to the bathroom. I figured he was nervous about he hot chocolate, and told him it was up to him.... he could get some or not, but I was getting some coffee. 

"So what should I do?" he asked me. I looked at him and explained that it was up to him. Get hot chocolate, don't get hot chocolate... his decision. He shook his head. "No, I mean about having to go..." 

Ohhhhh. 

"Go now," I told him. "Before we get it. Just go here, and I'll change you when we get back." 

Chad looked at me with a look of shock on his face. 

"You mean... just go? Like... right here? In your car?!"

It occurred to me that Chad had probably never peed in public before, and I asked him: first time in public? 

"Um, yea," he replied. "I've never even worn diapers outside of my room or dorm room until this morning!"

I was pretty surprised to hear this, but then it occurred to me: I probably shouldn't be. The way he wore them kind of caught me off guard though - he was so comfortable with it, it was like he'd been doing it all his life. I told him this, and he told me that it was my "natural way of diapering" that made him so comfortable. I wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but I took it as a compliment. 

"So... just... go... right... here..." Chad pressed me. I nodded. "And... you'll... just.... change me?" I had to laugh. I hadn't brought any diapers with us, because I knew his Cushie would hold quite a bit of wetness - but I, too, was nervous about the hot chocolate. Still, if there was a need for it, we could skip the OBT tour back and just take a shortcut to the airport. I told him to go ahead and go. 

Chad's face was beet red - adorable, I thought, since he'd seemed so comfortable with everything up until now. He began wiggling his bottom in the seat, and then put one hand on the car door and the other on the center console, pushing himself up. He held himself up off the seat for about thirty seconds and then let go, sitting, seeming exhausted. 

"I'm not sure if I can do it, sir."

I explained that the first time in public was always the hardest. But that, once he went the first time, he'd find that it would come more naturally. Eventually, he'd be able to just go anywhere like it was nothing. Chad rolled his eyes and told me he doubted that. Still, he announced that he was going to try again. He raised himself up again, wiggled his bottom some more, and held himself for a while, suspended off the car seat. He finally relaxed and sat down and back, and announced that he'd been successful. I reached out my fist and gave him a bump. 

"Good boy," I told him. I rubbed his tummy for good measure. 

We pulled into the Dunkin' Donuts parking lot and drove past the dumpster. I caught a whiff of something that was not smelling pleasant, and had second thoughts. Still, how harmful could coffee and hot chocolate be. I ordered, and asked Chad what size he wanted. I could see his face was still beet red. 

As we rounded the corner to the window I caught that odor again. Odd, since we'd driven further from the dumpster. This place must be nasty, I thought. I paid for and collected our beverages and rolled up the window. And, as we drove away, I smelled it again. I realized, suddenly, that the smell was coming from inside the car. 

Except to say thank you, Chad hadn't really spoken much. Thoughts began to race around my head. Had he? Nooooo.... couldn't be. Hmm... maybe...

The smell got a little stronger. It wasn't an awful smell, but it was clear that it could only be one thing. Someone had farted. Or... worse.

I finally had to ask. 

"Chad... did you... mess?" 

Chad's face was a historic shade of red now. He looked at me, and it looked like he was going to cry. 

"Sir... you told me... umm... you said..." 

And it occurred to me, suddenly, what I'd said. I'd told him to "go" in his diaper... but never actually confirmed what kind of "go" he had to do. 

I assumed he had to pee. 

If he had to do something more he would have told me, right?

"Chad... I'm just asking. Did you..." 

"I pooped. Yes, sir. You told me it was okay," Chad interrupted. I could see the look on his face was one of utter humiliation. And the tone of his voice was pleading, as if to say tell me it's okay, Chris...

So I told him it was okay.

"I've never had someone poop their diaper in my car is all," I lied. (Long story). "I thought you were about to wet." Chad looked even more embarrassed, so I continued. "I just was surprised because I don't have any diapers with me. We have to go back to your hotel. Which means..."

My voice trailed off, but I could see that Chad got it. He face looked positively panicky. 

"Oh wow," he exlaimed. "Oh, WOW. Oh... WOWWWWW." I tried to act like it was nothing, but I could tell we were both thinking the same thing: we had to walk through a lobby, go up an elevator, and walk down a long hallway - all with Chad in a dirty diaper. 

Damn. 

This was going to be an adventure. 

So I said it. 

"This is going to be... an adventure." 

Chad looked at me and kind of... grinned. 

"It sure is, sir," he confirmed. "And honestly, Cwis... if I'm going to be going on my first poopy diaper adventure... there's nobody I'd rather go on it with." 

Awwwwwww... I loved this kid. 

To Be Continued...

Next Up... Return to the Hotel... What's One More Night... and Chad Visits Again, 2013