Mikey and Me - Part V

[CWIS'S NOTE]: If you are reading this series, keep in mind that you must read from the oldest entry, chronologically, to the newest entry, in order to understand the whole story. The first entry in the Me and Mikey series was posted September 11, 2011 so you can scroll to that date and read up from there...

Road Trip: New York - Summer 2011

Mikey and Me - Part V

After the event ended Mikey and I spent a few days together, rolling around the city, as I reconnected with old friends. This was, after all, my vacation; I wasn't about to let it pass me by without spending some time doing regular New York stuff. Mikey would just have to make due.

This meant, of course, a few days without diapers. We hung out with my brother, met no fewer than a half dozen friends for coffee, lunch, or dinner, and spent some time as I gave him a tour of the town.

At night I would Pamp up; it was a good feeling knowing that I could wear in front of one of my best friends without fear of being found out. Sure, it sucked that I couldn't use the diapers, but I could be flexible... I definitely didn't want to freak Mikey out. 

After a few nights of mostly grownup time it was time for another ritual night. Mikey had announced that he was eager to get another one out of the way, and he seemed to mean it in a positive way. Several times he'd pulled his binky out of his pocket and sucked it in the car as he explained that he didn't have a problem with wearing, and was willing to put up with some diaper jo'ing... he was having a good time, and as he'd mentioned a few times, sleeping in a diaper beat sleeping in the woods. 

We were rolling around my hometown and decided to spend the night at my parents' home. They'd be out of town for a few days, and I often stay there when I'm home. We'd have the house to ourselves, and could wander around in Pampers, maybe even spend some time outside watching the stars. I was excited... I'd done this many times, from growing up to recent summer visits, but this would be the first time in a long time I'd had someone visit in Pampers.

I'd already told Mikey about my parents' love for natural foods, including soy milk. As we drove toward their house he reminded me that he was expecting a baby bottle - and only wanted vitamin D milk. 

"None of that soy shit," Mikey told me several times. 

As we arrived at the drug store and I pulled up and parked. I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and handed it to him.

"Get a carton of milk and some baby powder," I instructed. 

"How are you gonna send the baby in to get his own baby powder?" Mikey asked, feigning annoyance. I laughed and told him I could send him in for diapers, too. "You think I'm afraid to walk in and buy adult diapers?" he asked me, shaking his head. "Bro, I'll walk in there, buy some diapers, and put one on in the middle of the store." With that he jumped out of the car and walked in, returning a few minutes later with the needed items.

We drove to the house and unloaded the car. I set my suitcase with the diapers on the floor in the living room, and Mikey put the milk in the fridge. He walked into the bedroom and flopped down onto the bed, pulling his pacifier out and putting it in his mouth. I heard him slurping on it as I unpacked diapers and baby wipes. I filled a baby bottle with milk, set it in the microwave, and walked down the hall. 

"I'm about to go ham on that bottle!" Mikey said to me, laughing. "I'm hungry!" 

"It's milk, Mikey," I told him. "I'm not sure if you're going to fill up with milk..."

"I want my milk!" Mikey cried out, mimicking a toddler's voice. It was adorable, and I couldn't wait to give him his bottle. I ordered him to put his feet up, and he did, kicking them together. It was so cute... almost like the kid had practice. 

I pulled Mikey's feet up and put my hand on the waistband of his jeans, pulling them toward me. His boxers came with them, and soon he was naked from the waist down. I grabbed his hands, pulled him into a sitting position, and pulled his shirt off over his head, patting him on his head before allowing him to fall back onto the bed. The paci smacking continued...

Within minutes Mikey was diapered. I'd put him in a Cushie, and he was really getting into it, making vroom vroom! noises and mimicking an airplane flying - the diapers, as you probably know, have airplanes on them. 

"Come with me, Baby Mikey," I directed, snapping my fingers and pointing to the floor. Mikey began crawling along behind me, but winced. 

"My foot still huwts," he complained, and I was reminded that he'd hurt it running in PA before he'd come. The injury had been aggravated with all of the work we'd done at the event. I felt bad, but I wasn't ready to let him get up and walk... he was so cute crawling along. I agreed to allow him to scoot along on his bum, and he did, smiling and sucking away. 

We wound up in the kitchen, Mikey still sliding on his bottom, and I pulled the bottle out of the fridge, heading for the microwave. Mikey's face lit up. 

"I'm sleepy, Cwis," he confided. "I bet after this bottle I might be out..."

I was okay with that... after my last 'ritual', and Mikey's discomfort, his sleeping wouldn't be a huge problem.

I warmed up the bottle, and Mikey giggle when I pulled the bottle out and tested the temperature on my wrist. We went into the living room - me walking, Mikey crawling - and I sat down on the couch. 

"Where should I sit?" he asked me. He'd kind of cosied up to me, kneeling as if expecting me to hold the bottle out. I told him to climb up and he started laughing, shaking his head. 

"Like a real baby... wow," he said. I could tell he was a little bit embarrassed, but he climbed up, obediently, and lay back, his head resting on my lap. I held the bottle out and, after a minute or so of both of us adjusting and trying to get comfortable on the couch, Mikey mouthed it and began sucking. 

There is nothing cuter than watching one of your best friends suck on a baby bottle full of warm milk for the first time. I've given bottles to a lot of people, mostly ABDL, and I wasn't prepared for how adorable the look on Mikey's face would be... he looked so happy... so comfortable. He sucked and sucked, a satisfied smile on his face. I put my hand on his tummy and rubbed, and he giggled a little.

After a few minutes I pulled the bottle out of his mouth and set it on his stomach, rubbing it back and forth. He closed his eyes, still smiling. 

"Has anyone ever found you wearing diapers?" Mikey asked after several minutes. 

"You mean... ever?" I asked him. He nodded. "A couple times," I told him. "I could tell you some stories..."

"So tell me one," Mikey asked me, giggling. "I want to hear some diaper stories while I dwink." The way he said drink made me laugh, and I recounted a story as he sipped away on round two, telling him about the time my grandmother had walked down the stairs to the cottage only to peer through the window and see me sleeping in a disposable. He started giggling, and choked on his milk. I pulled the bottle out and waited.

"I can't imagine what I'd do if your family came here and saw me wearing a diaper," Mikey told me. "Actually, I guess I do know... I'd want them to accept you wearing one, so I'd probably sit up, turn to them, and act like nothing was wrong..."

"I think they'd wonder why you were diapered and sucking on a baby bottle," I told him, laughing.

"That's just what I do," he told me casually. "I wear diapers and drink from baby bottles. Nothing to see here... no big deal, parents." 

Sure, he would...

Little did he know that was something I'd wanted all my life...

After twenty minutes Mikey's bottle was almost empty, and his tummy full.

"Baby Mikey is gonna be gassy!" he told me, giggling. "I'm not used to milk..."

I asked him if he was lactose intolerant, and he nodded. I was surprised that he hadn't mentioned it sooner, and told him. 

"I think you can handle a little gassy baby," he told me. "You've changed worse, I know..." 

As we talked I rubbed his tummy. I wanted to rub his diaper but didn't want to freak him out. We talked about diapers, and he was asking questions about the reactions of my family and friends when we heard it - a vehicle slowing down and then, stopping - before pulling into the driveway.

I looked out the window and saw a truck come past. 

"Someone is here," I told Mikey. He sat bolt upright, a look of panic on his face. 

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Holy shit! Your parents are home! What do I do???"

I told Mikey to go into the bedroom and get into bed. I was annoyed - I'd planned an entire night of diaper fun, and my family had come home to ruin it all. Why had they told me that they would be out of town? Had something happened? Thoughts were racing through my head as I tried to clean up the evidence of babysitting - baby bottles, pacifiers, diapers on the chair.... damn.

I heard the porch door creak open, and footsteps. Then... knocking.

Whew... it wasn't them.

I went to the door and saw their friend standing there. He'd been given a truckload of supplies from the event, and had offered to drop them off. 

"Can you help me unload the truck?" he asked me. 

Damn... Mikey could have been a big help here... and he was in a Pamper and laying in bed...

We unloaded the truck, and my parents' friend left. 

I walked down the hall. It was a very hot, very sticky night, and a thunderstorm was coming. I'd been sweating already, and after the near scare, and unloading a full pickup, I was a sweaty mess. Still, when I walked into the bedroom I saw real sweating... Mikey lay on the bed, his diaper only mostly covered, pretending to be asleep - and sweating profusely.

"Bob!" I yelled down the hall. "Mikey's in here... I think he's asleep, but I can wake him up..." 

Mikey and Bob had worked together during the event, and had become friendly. I waited to see if Mikey would stir, but he continued to lay still. I walked in, ripped the blanket covering his bottom off of the bed, and then said "just kidding... Bob left." Mikey turned to face me and raised a fist as if he was going to punch me.

"Bro... that was a close call!" he exclaimed. "I thought your parents were gonna see me in Pampers for real!"

I laughed.

"What happened to just laying there telling them wearing diapers is just something you do?" I teased him, and he started laughing. 

"Bro, your parents like me... all I could think of is... what will they think if they know I'm wearing a diaper with their son?"

My life story, I told him.

It was ritual time, but first it was time for a few pictures. Mikey had agreed to pose for the blog, and even he agreed that the ABU Cushie was an "adorable" diaper. 

Problem was... Mikey had scooted along his bottom, crawled across the floor, climbed onto the couch, curled up on me, and then sprinted into the bedroom. 

And, he admitted, he'd briefly tried to remove the diaper before hiding under the covers.

"I knew your rule... DON'T TAMPER WITH YOUR PAMPER," Mikey admitted. "I didn't want to get that spanking tonight, so I decided to keep it on."

But, it was about to fall off.

I was disappointed, because I was running out of Cushies, and had been looking forward to using one as a pillow during 'ritual time'. 

Mikey lay on his stomach and I lay next to him, trying to refasten the tapes before giving up. 

"I'm going to re-diaper you," I told him. He frowned. 

"Baby diaper?" 

I shook my head. I was running out of Cushies, and had left them in the car. 

"Big boy diaper."

"Wah!" Mikey's fake crying was cute as hell - and the fact that he was crying out for a realistic baby diaper was dope as fuck. 

I diapered him up and spent some time rubbing his bottom before doing my thing. 

After I'd squirted I moved up next to Mikey, laying on back my back and rubbing his stomach. To my surprise, he reached over and rubbed mine.

"Baby Cwis feeling relaxed now?" he asked me in a toddler voice. I couldn't help but smile, and he turned to me and looked very serious. "Before this vacation is over I want to give you a bottle," he told me. I beamed... I love being fed bottles, but have a hard time letting ABDLs get me into a regressed role, a mixture of my abysitter persona and trust issues. "Would Cwis wike that?" he continued, smiling too. I nodded, and he smiled. "Cool. But now, I need a favor," he told me. "One more bottle before bed..."

Jactacio capitis nocturna...

That's the scientific name termed for Mikey's condition: a need to rock oneself to sleep.

I'll talk more about it in a future blog entry.

For now, I will say... being rocked to sleep rocks!

How do I know? 

Because, on this night, after two baby bottles, a 'ritual', and some time relaxing, Mikey and I lay next to each other, listening to thunder in the distance, sucking on pacifiers and talking about diapers. 

And, as I began to drift off to sleep, Mikey began to rock.

I lay in bed, watching Mkey rock back and forth next to me - and found myself lulled into a state of relaxation as the motion of his entire body rocking back and forth caused me to feel rocked, as well.

For more than thirty minutes I lay there, feeling safe and secure. I wondered if this was what being rocked as a baby might have felt like - and it hurt me that MIkey had never had the experience that I had. 

As I drifted off I thought about how much I had always loved falling asleep on my boat, diapered, with my baby bottle, as the boat rocked back and forth, giving me something of the same sensation.

This was even better...

"You're going to love the boat," I murmured to Mikey. 

"I honestly can't wait," he replied.

Within minutes I was asleep. 

Being "rocked" to sleep by a friend is something I can't really adequately describe. It feels... awesome. 

It's a feeling I've wished I could feel every night since...

To Be Continued...

In The News: The Obama Diaper Sign

Random diaper news story: Obama diaper sign causes controversy...

...fifty cars clogging the neighborhood, really?!

http://www.wdsu.com/news/29332771/detail.html

Mikey and Me - Part IV

[CWIS'S NOTE]: If you are reading this series, keep in mind that you must read from the oldest entry, chronologically, to the newest entry, in order to understand the whole story. The first entry in the Me and Mikey series was posted September 11, 2011 so you can scroll to that date and read up from there...

Road Trip: New York - Summer 2011

Mikey and Me - Part IV

We walked out of the hotel and found a place at one of the picnic tables by the lake. There was a 'Party on the Patio' going on, and there were probably more than one hundred people living it up over by the DJ. Mikey and I looked at each other, chuckling, the knowledge that we were both diapered amongst a crowd of beer swilling grownups something to laugh at. Mikey pulled out a cigarette and let it, putting his pacifier in his pocket for a moment.

"I am probably the first baby to be smoking a cigarette here today," he said. We both laughed. "I wonder if anyone can smell baby powder? I know I can!" I shook me head as the woman at the next table looked at Mikey quizzically. He obviously hadn't gotten the discretion thing down yet...

We sat and watched several drunken couples fighting, and the police were even called. Mikey kept looking at me and saying, loudly, "Wow, they're acting like such babies!" giggling each time. It was clear he was relaxed and having fun, and I was hesitant to ruin that with more humping upstairs.

"Well, let's get this over with," he said to me after ten minutes of smoking. I looked over at him and saw he was sucking on his pacifier. He held up five fingers and mouthed "five out of ten!" I had to laugh...

We went back inside and crinkled all the way down the hall. Walking into the room Mikey immediately took off his clothing and hopped up onto the bed. He lay on his back, his hands underneath his head kind of propped up against the headboard. 

He was sucking on his pacifier, and had a very relaxed look on his face.

This is where I have to throw in that the look on Mikey's face was absolutely f*cking adorable. I have never seen anyone look so happy to be sucking on a pacifier, including the people from our community who take pacifier pictures on a regular basis. I have seen thousands of pacifier pictures, and have popped pacifiers in the mouths of babies and non-ABDLs alike many, many times. But the look of sheer joy on Mikey's face as he slurped away on that Nuk - it was something else...

I sat down next to Mikey and rubbed his tummy. He was in very good shape, with a washboard stomach. He seemed totally chill with me rubbing his stomach, and didn't even flinch when I patted the front of his diaper a little. I decided that I could be a little more wandering with my hands, and went ahead and flipped him over, rubbing his behind for a little while. He didn't seem to be bothered by it, so I continued. I can never tell it straight guys are going to have a problem with me rubbing their ass, but if you know me you know that I love nothing more than a nice diapered bottom in my face. I wasn't about to let the opportunity to rub it pass me by.

After a few minutes I began to hump again. I could tell that Mikey tensed up as soon as I started. I decided to stop for the night, let him know that I was going to finish on my own bed. He looked surprised, and tried to assure me that he had no problem with me finishing on his.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked me. He looked worried. I explained that jerking could take me a while, it was late, and I wanted him to be able to get some sleep after a long day of working - and another two ahead of us. "Bro, you can finish," Mikey insisted. "I can fall asleep while you hump, you know..."

I thanked him, but moved over my own bed anyway. I lay on it for awhile, watching him as he lay facing me. He continued to slurp away on his pacifier, looking just as cute as he had when I had first seen him doing it. It was clear that Mikey was well aware of how adorable he looked, and how much I was enjoying it. He had a huge smile on his face the whole time. 

I asked him if he would stay on top of his covers so I could watch him in his diaper for a a while, and he assured me that he didn't like to sleep underneath covers anyway. 

"Don't worry," he told me. "You have a whole week of watching baby Mikey chillin' in diapers..."

I reminded Mikey that I expected to do more than launch, and he laughed. 

"And, you have four more rituals," he continued.

"Four more... what?"

"Four more rituals" he repeated. "I'm going to call that your ritual..."

"Is that bad?" I asked him, concerned. He laughed.

"Well," he said, drawing out the word. "I mean... I have no problem with looking adorable. I have no problem with being diapered. I honestly don't even have a problem with you changing my diapers! And I love this pacifier. Plus, something tells me I'm about to go ham on that baby bottle! But..."

I waited.

"But..."

"You doing your thing seems kind of like a ritual," he's continued. "That's all. I'm just going to call it... it ritual."

I must have looked concerned, because he burst out laughing.

"You've got four more," he told me. "Don't worry, I don't have a problem with it. It's just like any other ritual." Mikey was giggling now. "Like an athlete eats spaghetti before a race. Or a kid rocks to fall asleep. A ritual..."

I nodded and started to speak, but he cut me off.

"Some people put on a diaper and hump to ejaculate," he continued. "It's just what they do. It's their..."

"Ritual." 

Mikey smacked his pacifier contentedly for thirty minutes as I humped. After a while he asked if he could listen to music, and I gave him permission. He turned on my iPhone, put in the headphones, and lay, still, watching me. After about ten minutes he stood up, came over, and gave me a hug. 

"Nite, bro," he said, turning and flopping down on his bed. I watched as he turned away from me and curled up into a ball, his diaper hugging the outline of his bottom. Mmmmhmmmm... damn. 

And then he started to rock.

If you've never seen someone who rocks themselves to sleep do it in a diaper, you're missing out.

It's adorable!

So, for the next twenty minutes, I watched Mikey rock his diaper-clad frame back and forth on the bed. I watched the diaper crease and uncrease with each movement, and listen to the crinkle as he moved. It was... hot.

I squirted, pulled my covers up, and lay back. I was content as could be, and the last thing I remember thinking as I drifted off was...

...I get four more nights of this?!

To Be Continued...

Baby Pictures: Baby Spencey

Some new pictures from one of our favorite collegebabies, Spencey.

This is the fifth installment from Spencey. To view them all, visit www.babyspencey.abysitter.com.

Want to share baby pics with the Abysitter audience? 18+ only to abysitter@gmail.com.

[PHOTOS COPYRIGHT ABYSITTER.COM]

[DO NOT REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT PERMISSION]

Thanks for the pictures, Spencer. Always adorable!

Me And Mikey - Part III

[CWIS'S NOTE]: If you are reading this series, keep in mind that you must read from the oldest entry, chronologically, to the newest entry, in order to understand the whole story. The first entry in the Me and Mikey series was posted September 11, 2011 so you can scroll to that date and read up from there...

Road Trip: New York - Summer 2011

Mikey and Me - Part III

We went to bed and, though the room was pitch black, I could make out the form of Mikey rocking back and forth on his bed. At first we listened to his music on my iPod for a while, but he eventually put headphones in. Within a few minutes he had stopped moving and I heard a light snore coming from his direction. A few minutes later I was sleeping, too.

The next day would be our busiest of the event. There were so many things to do, and I had to be all over the city. I dropped Mikey off at event headquarters to help there, and he quickly befriended several elderly women volunteers who were glad to have a strong young man to help them. I wouldn't see him again until later in the day. 

During the day, in between meetings, I stopped by Wal-Mart and stocked up on supplies. I was nearly out of powder and wipes, so I grabbed some, and grabbed an extra pacifier too, just in case. After, as I drove back to the hotel, it occurred to me that the kid had been living in the woods and was pretty fucking filthy when I picked him up; still, I've had people refuse to suck on paci's that didn't come straight out of the package, fearing my sterilization methods weren't up to snuff. 

I picked Mikey up at dinner time; he was starving, as was I, and we wanted to grab a bite to eat. We settled on Subway, and as we ate he asked me if we were going back to the hotel after dinner. I explained that a whole different part of the event was going on after, and we had to go to that. Mikey groaned, and said - in Subway, in full earshot of tables full of customers - "Take me back now and you get a few extra hours of me in a diaper..." I couldn't tell if anyone heard him, but I explained that, as attractive as that offer sounded, it would have to wait. 

Mikey was only needed during the first part of the event that night, and the hotel was within walking distance, so he grabbed the extra roomcard and headed back for it. He texted me after an hour or so, letting me know that he was bathed, changed, and ready for bed. He'd been writing a song, he told me, and he couldn't wait to perform it for me. I texted back and told him I was looking forward to it. I reminded him that it was a diaper night, and he texted me back to let me know that he hadn't forgotten, and had gotten everything out of the way so as not to delay it at all. 

"Is tonight the night you're going to paddle my ass?" he texted me. I'd forgotten my pledge to "bust his ass", and was surprised that he was actually stepping up. I told him that could wait... I wanted his first diapering to be as pain-free as possible.

After what seemed like forever the event ended. You know how it feels when you're ready to Pamp up but you can't? It sucks, right? That's how I felt during the last hour of this event... I couldn't wait to be back in that hotel room. I practically raced back, walked up to the room, and opened the door. Mikey was chilling in his boxers on the bed, singing. I walked in and he didn't notice for about thirty seconds. When he saw me he was startled. 

"Got time for me to sing you the whole song?" he asked, obviously sensing my fiending for some diaperage. I nodded, and he sung me what may be my second-favorite of all of his tracks I've heard. I complimented him, and asked him to sing it again. He did, and I lay back, relaxing. As he sung the final few verses I was thinking how lucky I was: one of my favorite singers was in my hotel room, giving me a concert. I heard people in the hallway stop in front of our door to listen. Bet they wish they were in here for the show, I thought. 

After another song or two Mikey got a very serious look on his face.

"Well," he said, "I guess it's time. Let's see this diaper..."

Mikey had already asked me if I had a diaper that would fit him. I've heard that question so many times, but it's always cute when someone asks. I knew Mikey had seen my blog, so he'd obviously seen pictures of people in diapers. Still, when I pulled the diaper out of the bag his eyes grew big. 

"Damn, that's a big diaper," he remarked. 

I'd pulled out an Attends. I grabbed a box I'd packed in my luggage and pulled out a baby blue diaper. Mikey laughed. Then I pulled out a Cushie, and he got a surprised look on his face.

"That's like... a big baby diaper!" he almost shouted. I shushed him, knowing people might still be lurking outside, but he wouldn't be quieted. "Bro... that's like... for a baby!"

I laughed, and pulled out a pacifier. 

"So are these...." I told him. I walked up to him and held it out. "Mouth this, Mikey," I said. 

Mikey leaned forward and positioned his mouth so it was an inch away from the pacifier. I popped it in.

It was the cutest thing I've ever seen. The minute I popped the paci into his mouth, Mikey's eyes lit up and a smile appeared on his face. He began chomping on the pacifier, smacking it like a baby. The look on his face was so cute I don't think I'll ever forget it. 

"This is awesome!" he murmured between smacks. "I can't believe I never had one of these!"

I've given pacifiers to so many straight non-ABDL guys. Most get into it after a few minutes, but I don't think I've ever had one get that happy over it... in fact, some of the ABDL guys I've diapered didn't look as happy as Mikey did. I was pretty pleased...

Now it was diaper time.

I walked back to the end of the bed, took Mikey by his feet, and pulled him gently down toward me. Once he was laying back, still smacking away, I walked up to him and took his boxers in my hands. He stopped smacking and closed his eyes, and I pulled them down slowly. 

Mikey's penis was a little smaller than I had expected, for all of his talk about fucking. Also, he was uncut, something I wasn't expecting. As if he'd read my mind he spoke:

"I'm not circumcized," he told me, looking embarrassed. "I guess my Mom didn't bother with that, either..."

I asked him if it caused him any problems, and he mentioned needing to keep it clean. I nodded, and then, as if he was opening up, he continued...

"I mean, sometimes I think that girls haven't been interested in me when they find out," he confessed. "They never say that, but... that might be it."

I had a hard time picturing Mikey having trouble keeping a girl. He was dope as fuck, hot, in shape, and beautiful. His face was cute, his body was cute, and I even thought his penis was cute. 

"Plus, I Google'd penis size," he continued. "I wondered if maybe it was small or something. But I guess most guys are in my range. I'm a grower, not a shower," he said proudly. "I Googled that..."

I nodded and explained that I'd seen a lot of penises, and his was definitely within normal range. As I talked I had pulled out the baby wipes, and picked up his feet in my hands. He was blushing now, and as if he knew what was coming he put his feet in the air. I began wiping, starting with the front, getting his penis pretty thoroughly, and then hitting up his ass. To my surprise, the wipe was 100% clean. 

"I took a bath and got clean, bro," he told me, as if he could read my mind. "I've read parts of your blog, you know..."

(If you read my blog regularly, you know I sometimes spank for non-white wipes...)

I directed Mikey to flip over onto his stomach, and he did. He stretched out and seemed totally relaxed, slurping away on his paci as I gazed at his bottom. It was beautiful, without a doubt one of the nicest asses I'd ever seen. I didn't want to make it obvious that I was ogling it for fear of making him uncomfortable, so I sprinkled some powder on it, rubbed it in (mmmmmhmmmmm), and turned him back over. 

I slid a diaper up underneath Mikey's bum and pulled it tight. He stayed soft, but I made sure to position his penis carefully and give it a good rub after I'd taped him up. 

"Turn over," I ordered, and he did. I pushed him up so his head was in the corner of the bed. He smacked his paci contentedly, and I dropped my drawers, pulled on a pre-taped diaper, and lay down on the bed between his legs. 

I began rubbing his bottom, and he murmured something. He seemed totally relaxed, and I lay there for about fifteen minutes, rubbing his hiney and relaxing. 

After fifteen minutes I lay flat on my stomach and pulled myself up so my head was directly over Mikey's ass. I lay my head down on it... and began humping the bed.

Mikey stiffened.

"This is... unexpected," he said. And I stopped. 

"Wait... so... you didn't think I was going to... bust?" I asked him. 

"Well... I mean... I guess..." Mikey stammered. "I mean, I know you said... and... I just thought..."

I waited, and my heart fell. I'd been looking forward to busting all day long. And now?

"I guess I just didn't know... that people... do it this way," Mikey finished.

"Humping?" I asked him. He nodded. 

"I do it like this," I told him. Guess he hadn't read all of the blog...

"Well, then," he said... and left it hanging there.

"So... do you want me to.... not?" I asked him. I was about to explain, again, that I'd diapered dozens of straight guys and had done this with all of them, but he cut me off.

"Nah, it's all good, bro," he said. "I was just surprised is all..."

I lay there for another few minutes, rubbing his ass and thinking. I decided to continue, and slowly worked my way back into humping. I pushed his stomach up with my hands and got a good look at his penis. He was slightly hard, and I ran my hands down the front of his diaper, watching him harden as I did. I could sense that he was a little uncomfortable, so I made a decision to avoid that area. I continued humping.

"Bro... can I listen to music?" Mikey blurted out. I stopped, kind of annoyed at the interruption. I stood up and picked up my iPhone, handing it to him.

"This is a little stressful, bro," he confided, still with a happy smile on his face. "I want to rock!"

With that Mikey put the headphones in his ears and began to rock. It was adorable, and I watched his fine behind sway back and forth as he rocked. It made humping a little less noticeable, and relaxed me considerably.

After fifteen minutes Mikey stopped rocking. He pulled my headphones out of his ears and looked back at me. I stopped.

"Bro... don't get mad at me..." 

I waited, crestfallen. Was this it? Was Mikey about to cancel my five diaperings? Ask me to stop busting? What was coming?

And then he confessed.

"I need a cigarette." 

Mikey had gotten a fresh pack of cigs on his way back to the hotel, and I'd suggested he go outside to smoke before we'd started, but he'd declined. Now I wish that I'd insisted. This was already taking me long enough, and now it would be a do-over? 

"Damn, dude... I hate wasting diapers," I interjected, hoping he'd agree to wait. 

"What do you mean?" he asked me. 

"I'm going to have to take your diaper off and put a new one on you when we come back in," I explained. 

"Why?" he asked me.

"Well... I don't want to pull that diaper off and then try to get it to fit back on you," I continued. "I mean, they're refastenable tapes, but they're not really refastenable. We'll come back and the diaper will be all loose and ill-fitting..."

"No, I mean.... why do you have to take it off me?" he asked. 

"Because it's a non-smoking room, remember?" I asked him. "We have to walk outside the hotel to smoke..."

"Yea, I know," Mikey said. "So why can't I do that in a diaper is my question?"

I've diapered many non-ABDLs, and many ABDLs. Most refuse to wear in public. Even among ABDLs, the tell-tale crinkling of a disposable diaper in public is too much of a risk to take.

I explained that to him.

"Bro, I don't give a fuck," he interrupted me. "I'm not from here. I'll wear this diaper all over town. I'll wear it with no pants on if you want. Let's go smoke."

I can't begin to tell you how happy that made me.

I threw him a pair of shorts, he pulled them on, and put on a shirt as I got dressed. We began to walk toward the door.

Crinkle, crinkle...

His diaper was extra-loud for some reason. He stopped and listened to the silence, then moved and heard it crinkle.

"I see what you mean!" Mikey said, laughing. "Loud-ass diaper..."

I waited for him to change his mind, but he strode to the door, opened it, and stepped out. 

Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle...

We crinkled down the hallway, passing several people who were standing outside their doors. The crinkling was loud and noticeable, but past each door Mikey shouted out a big hello.

Crinkle crinkle.

At one point he stopped, and so did the crinkling. I wondered if people might be wondering why he was crinkling.

"Do you hear that?" he asked me. 

"Hear what?" I asked him. He giggled.

"The sweet sound of silence," he said. "Well, time to stop that..." and be picked up his gait and the crinkling began again.

"You're not embarrassed?" I asked him. He laughed. 

"Why would I be embarrassed about wearing a diaper?" he asked me loudly.

"Bro, I have to tell you... on the ten scale, you're hitting a 3 or 4," I told him.

"Why?" he asked, laughing. 

"Because... wearing a diaper puts you at one. Wearing it in public jumps you up a few." 

He was still laughing.

"I am going to go for a 10 on this trip," he told me. "What do I have to do to make a 10?"

"You don't want to know," I told him. He appeared thoughtful for a moment.

"Never mind," he told me. "But I'm still going for a 7 or an 8..."

I agreed...

...this was going to be an awesome week!

To Be Continued...

JEdward: Big Brother UK Diaper Scene

I first brought you JEdward, diapered, in early 2011. It seems that, for these two Irish singing brothers, the diapering and diaper humiliation never end. If they aren't ABDL someone close to them sure must be, because they've donned diapers now on several occasions.

Not that I'm complaining.

Enjoy...

New Product: Munchkin Mesh Feeder

It resembles a big pacifier. The way it works is, you put food inside the mesh - baby food, pudding, ice chips, or whatever your preference is - and pop it in. Baby sucks on the mesh and is fed...

Tried it. A lil messy. But kinda cool.

Anyone else use one of these?

Me And Mikey - Part II: Lets Roll and Rock

[CWIS'S NOTE]: If you are reading this series, keep in mind that you must read from the oldest entry, chronologically, to the newest entry, in order to understand the whole story. The first entry in the Me and Mikey series was posted September 11, 2011 so you can scroll to that date and read up from there...

Road Trip: New York - Summer 2011

Mikey and Me - Part II: Lets Roll and Rock

If you've ever taken Greyhound anywhere, you know what a clusterfuck that whole experience can be.

I hadn't, so I wasn't prepared for it. 

Mikey boarded the bus in PA and, although New York is just one state away, the bus would go through several states before it would make it into New York. A broken-down bus would push his trip back, and long delays in some locations would turn it into a 24-hour trip.

I was supposed to pick him up on a Wednesday, 7 p.m., in the city I was in. Instead I wound up picking him up at 8 p.m. the next night, in a city nearly two hours away... if I'd waited for him to get to the city I was in he would have arrived the next morning around 10. 

That's right... a twelve-hour overnight layover. 

Fuck that.

So Thursday night I got in my car and drove two hours to the west. I rolled into the bus station at about the same time the bus was supposed to arrive, but he'd texted me that they were early. 

Keep in mind, I was nervous. I pictured Mikey fiending for heroin, looking an absolute mess. I wasn't sure what the circumstances behind his having to leave PA really were, and I'd taken a chance in dropping $210 on his bus ticket. Still, I knew that even if he got off the bus high as fuck, he was better off spending some time with me than he was with the people he had been with in PA. Plus I'd just be happy that he got off the bus.

I just prayed he'd be sober.

I rolled into the bus station and immediately spotted it: three city police officers standing next to a kid - in handcuffs. My heart sank. He'd texted me just ten minutes earlier... what could he have already done that had gotten him into trouble? Fuck...

I rolled up behind them and took a closer look. 

Was that Mikey?

Suddenly my door opened and Mikey threw his bag in the back seat and sat down.

"I'll give you a hug when we're out of here, bro... that shit makes me nervous as fuck. That kid and I sat next to each other the whole way here, and the police were waiting for him. Let's go!" 

We went...

The first night was to be diaper-free. 

I just wanted to spend some time with Mikey. 

We went to the local Chinese buffet, where he inhaled plates of food. It was clear the kid hadn't had a meal in a while, but even as we ate dinner and talked I could tell that he was sober. When someone is addicted to heroin you learn to tell the difference between sober and not. Everything changes when someone is using, from their tone of voice to their mannerisms. Plus, with Mikey, he stops eating - and loses weight. I've seen so many pictures of him through the years, and I can put them together in two piles: using and not using. Gaunt about describes it... heroin addicts call heroin dog food. And it's all that they eat. 

This, to me, was welcome news. Because I'd already decided that, if Mikey was under the influence, I wasn't going to diaper him. And that, to me, would have been a huge disappointment.

So, on night one, we went back to the hotel and spent the night talking. He told me more about where he'd been in the months before, and I told him what my goals for the summer were. He sang me some new songs, I showed him some stuff I've been working on, and we just relaxed and had a good time. 

It got to be about bedtime, and Mikey asked me for a favor.

"I lost my iPod a long time ago," he told me. "Any chance I could listen to yours while I try to fall asleep?"

This made me nervous.

My iPhone contains my iPod. 

It's got a million and one songs, plus music videos and movies.

It also has many, many emails, text messages, YIM messages, and other types of messages from ABDLs.

It's got pictures. 

Videos.

Blog entries I've written on airplanes, or on previous vacations, but never posted.

It's like Abysitter Central.

And Mikey wanted to hold that shit, and listen to music.

"I don't usually let people hold my iPhone," I told him. "I mean, I am working this event... I could get a call or email at any time, and I have to return them..."

It was only partly a lie...

"Oh, it's no big deal," he told me. "I mean, I don't really sleep much anyway. I don't really even need to sleep. It's just... in order to get to sleep I have to listen to music. I have to rock."

Now, I took this to mean that he had to rock out. As in, put on some music and jam. 

"We could turn it on on the nightstand," I suggested. "I mean... I've got the whole Mikey Playlist... and a lot of other music we'd probably both like. Check it..."

I handed him the iPhone, praying none of y'all would send me any racy diaperboy shots at that moment. He went through the music and agreed it was a collection that he could have put together himself. 

"We have the same taste in music," Mikey remarked. "Lots of new shit, too... hmm." Then he spotted his own playlist and hit play. "Damn... you got songs I haven't heard in a few years from me. I lost some of these when I pawned my old computer... I wish I'd known you had them...."

We lay there, the iPhone in between us, and listened to Mikey sing for a while. Finally, he broke the silence.

"So, what's the deal with diapers?" 

Mikey's question caught me off guard. I'd already told him tonight wouldn't be a diaper night. He was relieved - he was starving (we ate), filthy from the bus ride (he bathed), and tired as fuck (thought we were about to go to sleep). I figured that the diaper conversation would keep until the next day. 

"Well, it's hard to explain," I began - and then found that, even though I've explained it dozens of times, and write a whole fucking blog on the topic, I was finding it... well, hard to explain.

"I mean... people wear them because... they want to regress. They use them to relax..." I stammered along. Mikey just sat, looking at me. I could tell he was trying to act like he understood, nodding his head and being generally agreeable. At the same time I could tell my explanation sucked. I usually did better... I wanted to tell him about how, for many of us, it starts with being neglected as babies... how we develop an attachment to our diapers... and never outgrow them... how we don't just wear diapers but actually slurp from bottles and suck on pacifiers and try to feel babyish... but I felt kind of ridiculous - maybe for the first time.

"I guess I'll tell you more about it tomorrow," I told him, wrapping it up with a save. "I mean, when I'm diapering you, it'll give us something to talk about."

Mikey's face turned a little red but he kept nodding. 

"It's cool, bro... I kind of get it," he told me. (My turn to nod). "I mean, I have something that's pretty secret about me, too. Almost nobody knows about it... but if we're going to spend a few weeks together, I guess I should probably share it with you." 

I nodded suspiciously. I was expecting something either superlame or supersensitive, and wasn't sure I wanted to hear either. On the one hand, a fake-ass secret designed to make me feel better about my weird-as-fuck fetish would just annoy me. On the other hand, a secret that he might later regret sharing would make things uncomfortable. 

I urged him to use caution in sharing...

"You shared that you were diapers!" he exclaimed, and the way he drew out the word diapers was adorable. He was adorable. I had to remember to try to behave very heterosexually. 

He continued... 

"Anyway, if we're going to spend the night together every night for a few weeks you're going to see it anyway..."

I wondered what was coming.

Bedwetter?

Sleepwalker?

Night terrors?

Nope.

"Bro... I rock," he told me. 

I waited. 

Was that it??

"Okay?" I asked him. "So... your secret is that.... you rock?"

"Yep!" he replied proudly, as if he'd just shared something that I'd be surprised by. I was surprised... at how lame his secret was. He rocked... big fucking deal. 

But then he continued....

"I've been doing it since I was a baby," he told me. 

I looked at him quizzically. 

"What... do you... mean?" I asked him. Mikey laughed.

"I've been doing it since I was a baby," he repeated. "My mom took me to the doctor when I was ten. She wanted to find out what was wrong with me, why I did that shit. The doctor asked if she rocked me when I was a baby, but she'd been a drug user then, and pretty much neglected me. She told the doctor she would put me in my crib and just leave me there. The doctor told us that's how it started. That was the last time we saw that doctor." 

I was confused.

"So wait..." I asked him. "Your mom didn't take care of you when you were a baby... and now you do... what, exactly?"

"I rock," he repeated, rolling his eyes.

"Like... show me?"

And with that, Mikey lay down on the bed and began rocking.

He curled up into a ball and began rocking from side to side. He sort of resembled a child having a temper tantrum, I thought. He just kept rocking, and didn't stop for a few minutes. Then, just as soon as he'd started, he stopped, sat up, and looked at me.

"It's self-soothing," he explained. "I can't go to sleep unless I rock."

I nodded.

"And it helps to listen to music," he continued. "When I go to sleep with music and rocking, I sleep through the night. When I go to sleep without it, I don't sleep." 

I mulled that over for a few minutes.

I had some questions.

"So, because your Mom didn't rock you... you rocked yourself?" I asked.

"Yessir," he replied. "Started when I was a baby, and now I can't stop."

The parallels were already becoming clear to me.

"And if you don't rock... you can't sleep," I continued. He nodded in agreement. "And... do you ever find that if you can't rock for a while you get depressed... irritable even?"

"Oh my God!" Mikey almost shrieked. "Yes! Yes, Chris! When I was a little kid I never wanted to spend the night at any friends houses because I couldn't rock. They'd make fun of me. So I didn't have very many friends. And even now, when people would stay at my apartment, I'd just want them to go.... so I could rock!"

Damn... I thought.

It was time for an explanation.

"So when I was a baby," I told him, "I was adopted. But before I was adopted... I lived in a foster home for months. Nobody knows exactly what that was like for me, but during that time I developed this attachment to diapers."

(You guys know what I'm talking about, right?)

"Might have been the only thing that constantly touched me, the only connection I made as a baby," I continued. "Nobody really knows why it happens, but I grew up having to wear diapers... I just never really stopped wearing them." 

Mikey nodded vigorously.

"It's like we were separated at birth!" he joked. "That's exactly it for me, too. My mom would put me in my crib and just leave. They'd go out into the other room and get high. I'd just be locked in my room, and I guess I started rocking. And never outgrew it!"

I pictured Mikey locked in his crib, neglected. It explained so much about the path his life had taken.

"Separated at birth," I repeated, laughing. "You're lucky that you didn't develop a thing for diapers..."

"Actually," Mikey interrupted me, "I think I know why. My mom didn't even really put me in diapers when I was a baby. I didn't like diapers. I would pull mine off, and she'd just ignore me. I was naked a lot..."

Damn. 

"You know what else?" he asked me, as if he was about to share another secret. I leaned in. "Bro... I never even had a pacifier when I was a baby. I've never had one!"

I looked at him with what must have been a look of horror on my face, because he started laughing.

"I know!" he continued. "I'd go to raves in LA and see all these kids sucking on pacifiers and be jealous. I mean, they did it to keep from grinding their teeth, but I wanted one!" 

I was laughing now.

"Mikey... you are going to make up for lost time this week," I assured him. "I have a few pacifiers, and you'll be nuk'ing them for hours..."

"Good!" he exclaimed. "The diapers might take some getting used to, but I've always wanted to try a pacifier. And the other thing is... are you going to give me a bottle? Because when I was a baby I always had to hold my own. I'm not even sure if I want you to give me a bottle, I've been holding my own since I was old enough to pick one up in my hands."

"I will be holding your bottle," I told him, suddenly reminded that he'd read my blog... I hadn't even brought bottles up yet. 

"We'll try it," he told me skeptically. "I don't know if I'll like it..."

I reassured him that he would, and then turned the conversation back to the rocking.

"Do you ever find that your need to rock gets in the way of a normal life?" I asked him. I was thinking, of course, of the binge/purge diaper cycle we're all familiar with, something I would be explaining to him.

"Fuck yea, dude!" he exclaimed. "I mean... I've tried to quit so many times. When I was a little kid I just knew something was different about me. My mom would tell me something was wrong with me, but I knew that wasn't it. So when the doctor told her that it was her fault... that was great!" 

I laughed.

"And since then it's been hard. I mean, I can't spend the night at people's houses... and dude, forget having a girlfriend. What girl wants to lay next to you while you're rocking back and forth. I hit it and quit it... that's why I always kick girls out. I need to fuck and then be alone in my own bed so I can sleep! Girls don't get that..."

I explained how I'd never had a serious relationship because of my ABDL status. A few relationships that might have otherwise become serious didn't because of the diapers, and a few diaper friendships never matured beyond the hit it/quit it phase because of a number of other things we didn't have in common.

"I totally understand, Chris," Mikey continued. "I mean... I'm basically married to my music now, anyway. But I know that one day I'll want to settle down. How am I going to find a girl who accepts me needing to rock?"

"Could you stop?" I asked. He looked started and looked at me very seriously.

"Could you stop wearing diapers?" he asked me, dead serious. I shook my head, and he just nooded. "Mmmmhmmm."

"Maybe you can find a girl who rocks too?" I suggested. 

He giggled. 

"So we can smash our heads into each other all night?" 

It did seem bleak, the way he put it. 

"Plus, I don't know if there's very many people out there like me," he continued. "I mean... there might be other people, but how would I ever meet them?"

I remembered me at age 17.

"Mikey, I used to think that I was the only person who wore diapers," I told him. "I was fucked up over it as a kid, because I knew it was a part of me, but I thought there was something freakishly wrong with me. It wasn't until I discovered the internet that I realized that there were entire diaper communities. There's thousands of us..."

"Thousands?" he asked me, looking at me with a look of disbelief on his face.

"My blog gets hundreds of views every week," I told him. "There are thousands of people in the community, from all around the world, on a bunch of different diaper sites. It's a whole community."

He looked sort of excited now.

"I wonder... if there's... a rocking community?" he asked me, starting to smile. "Dude... that would be sick!"

I nodded.

"There's a community for everything..." I told him. I was going to tell him about some of the more strange fetish communities I've stumbled across, but decided I'd better keep it about rocking for tonight.

I opened Google on my iPhone's safari browser and handed it to him.

"Do some research," I suggested. He smiled and started typing away.

"Okay, so now that I've shared my weird freakish secret with you I've earned your trust, huh?" he smiled.

"Something like that," I told him. 

"Maybe I will start a blog about rocking," he mused. "You should ask your blog readers if any of them rock. I mean, if some of them were neglected and wear diapers and stuff because of that... you never know. Maybe they wear diapers and rock..."

I promised I would. I was wishing he did. 

"I was going to ask you," he continued, changing the subject. "Do you... shit in them?"

I told him I didn't, and was about to explain more about how diapers are used when he cut me off.

"That's good," he said, obviously relieved. "Because I was about to say, diapers are one thing, but if you piss and shit on yourself, you might wanna see a psychiatrist!"

To Be Continued...

Tomorrow: Crinkle, Crinkle... 

[CWIS'S NOTE]: Any rockers out there? If you rock or headbang, comment this entry, and Mikey will eventually get a chance to read it. Or, if your shit is too personal for a public comment, email me at abysitter@gmail.com and I'll forward it to him. I'll explain more about rocking soon... 

Me And Mikey - Part I

[CWIS'S NOTE]: This blog entry is the first part of a several part story about my New York road trip. This particular part sets the stage. It does not include anything about diapers until the very end. Read it if you're a regular reader of the blog and plan to read the rest of the entries. If you're just looking for diaper stories and/or verbal porn, keep it moving, you won't find it here...

Road Trip: New York - Summer 2011

Mikey and Me - Part I

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I've diapered more than one hundred people. 

You also know that many of them weren't ABDL. 

A lot of them were straight. 

Some did it for weed dough, something I was willing to pay before I moved to an area with year-round ABDL visitors. Growing up in upstate New York, finding other ABDLs who weren't too scared to meet was next to impossible. I dropped a twanky on diapering a party-liner once, and I was hooked...

You also know that I've diapered at least a dozen of my friends.

Most did it out of curiosity, although I've had them wear for me in exchange for beer and gas money and, once, as partial payment for a car I sold. 

It's important to know that I've never had a friend wear unwillingly; most of my friends, upon finding out that I am into diapers, have so many questions... and, after a while of trying to answer, I just say "you'd have to experience it to understand." And most, thankfully, want to. 

If you've never diapered a friend, you should try it.

For me, there is no better bonding experience than chilling in Pampers. 

After the initial awkwardness, which usually wears off after a little while, it's a tight experience for me. 

And, for most of my friends, knowing that I'm as into it as I am is pretty powerful for them. I've had many after-the-fact discussions about it, and my friends are pretty clear on the fact that they appreciate me including them in on something so personal. 

I will say this: of all of the friends I have diapered, or worn diapers with - some do insist on diapering themselves, after all - I've only had one only wear once. 

I'll tell more stories about these experiences in the future.

For now, let me tell you about July 2011 - and my visit from Mikey.

I have a Florida best friend. He's not into diapers, but does have some pretty distinct AB qualities, and does joke about wearing sometimes. 

I have a New York best friend, who has worn with me many times.

Then I have my internet best friend. He lives in AZ, calls himself my e-bro, and has been there for me for five years plus as much or more than any real-life friend. He's sent me pictures of him, bare-assed, holding pictures of RugRats posters and a "diaper niggie" sign - you've seen that here in a past entry. We have yet to meet.

Mikey is my all-around-the-country-best-friend. 

It's hard to explain, but I'll do my best.

Mikey is 23, and from Pennsylvania. He's a singer - and a very talented one. He is, without a doubt, my favorite singer, and I've followed his career from MySpace to today. 

Mikey's singing has taken him all across the country. 

His songs make up a huge percentage of my iPod music library, and those tracks have made up the playlist of my life since 2005. 

Since before he was 18 Mikey has struggled with drug addiction. He's had some really low points in his life - and some really high points, too, which always seem to revolve around being sober and singing. 

A few years ago Mikey moved to Orlando. He lived here for three months, and we got to spend a lot of time together. We went out to dinner, and I took him grocery shopping - the kid was living with dope fiends who didn't buy food because they had to prioritize and buy drugs. 

At one point I started to realize how desperate Mikey's situation was, and me and my roommate decided to make our third bedroom available for Mikey if he wanted it. Before I could talk to him about it he called me - from Seattle. He'd run out of money, was too ashamed to admit that he was about to be homeless again, and had accepted a free ticket to the Pacific Northwest. 

Over the years Mikey has lived in so many cities and states. 

Many times he's been homeless.

So often I've thought about letting him move back to Orlando. He's asked, and we've talked about it. At one point in the future it may happen. 

Until recently the one thing that stopped me was - you guessed it - my diaper lifestyle.

I didn't want to give that up, and I didn't want to share it with him. This is a kid who respects me a great deal. I wasn't sure how sharing my biggest secret would affect him. I've shared it with dozens upon dozens of people - some voluntarily, others because I was forced to. But I wasn't ready to share it with Mikey for the longest.

And then something happened...

Last summer Mikey hit me up for a loan.

I'd worked a few jobs during the summer, and made a few extra thousand. 

I hadn't told him, but anyone who knows me knows that I do some PR work on the side. 

Mikey hit me up. He was sober again, had a place of his own, and was trying to get back into music.

There was a laptop on sale at Wal-Mart. It was an insanely good deal, and he wanted to borrow the money for it. 

Prior to this, despite his many bouts of homelessness and being poor, he'd never asked me for a penny. Even in Orlando, when he was dead broke, he satisfied himself with me helping him with groceries once... he could have asked for money for gas, tolls, or anything, but didn't. 

So I checked my bank app, agreed, and wired him the money.

Mikey went to Wal-Mart and bought the computer. That night we video chatted on Skype for a few hours. He was excited about getting back into singing, and had lots of plans. 

The next few days were full of Twitter tweets and Skype chats.

The kid even posted a new song.

And then... suddenly... nothing.

He disappeared. 

I was expecting a payment to be dropped into my bank account the next Friday. I'd agreed to loan him some and pay for some, and when his first payment didn't come I was a little worried.

That weekend Mikey hit me up. 

He was getting evicted.

He was suspended from his job - there was some drama between him and a girl who works there and she was trying to get him fired.

Plus, he had pawned his studio and was close to losing it. 

I realized, right away, the signs I'd seen off and on: Mikey had gone back to using drugs.

He swore that he still had the laptop. But I wouldn't see him go on Skype or Twitter again. 

Soon he'd be in jail. 

So disappointed.

I've spent years being my little brother's 'payday advance loan' source. 

He runs out of money before the next payday and I drop $50, $100, $150 in his bank account. He pays be back on payday. It helps him and his kids and I charge no interest. I'm happy to do it - as long as he doesn't screw me. He understands that, if he doesn't pay me back, his next loan doesn't come until he does. 

Mikey got out of jail after a few months. One of the first things that he did was call me. He wanted me to know that he was ashamed of himself, and sorry about essentially stealing from me. He'd been sober when I'd loaned him the money for the laptop, he told me. But once he logged onto Facebook all of his drug connects started connecting with him. Within days he was dabbling. A week later he was fiending. And, soon, he'd lost everything - again - and stolen from me, his parents, his sister, and others.

I let him know the deal. He owed me $200. And, until it was paid, he need not ask me for a single fucking penny. It was the principle of it. Plus, I told him half-jokingly, if we saw each other again I was going to "bust his ass". 

I don't think either of us thought that would happen...

Over the next few months Mikey would flunk out of a rehab program, go back to jail briefly, then move to a few other states before moving back to PA and trying probation.

He was living in a homeless shelter in the city when he called me from someone else's phone. We talked for a while, and he got to the point of the call: I'd talked about putting him on my family talk plan a year before, and he was in danger of losing his probation because he was homeless with no way for his PO to contact him, a violation of the rules. He'd asked his parents to put him on their plan, but they weren't speaking to him. He wondered if me letting him use my extra line would violate the spirit of my pledge not to give him another dollar until he'd paid me back.

I considered it, but realized that the kid was living in a shelter, and in danger of relapsing pretty easily. Did I really want to put a phone on my plan in his hands, or the hands of whatever junkie might steal it while he slept? I didn't. 

On the other hand, I wanted to support his efforts to stay sober and do probation. I was proud of him, because it had become clear to me that he was trying pretty hard. 

I agreed to break my rule. I wired him just enough money to buy a prepaid phone and one month of service. 

Later that day Mikey had a phone on. He began making contact with me regularly, keeping me updated on his job search, his probation, his sobriety, and his music. 

A few weeks later Mikey would get kicked out of the homeless shelter. He was showering when someone tried to steal his phone. He'd managed to save the phone, but both men had gotten banned from the shelter for thirty days. His family wasn't willing to take him in, and he inquired about coming to FL. He was on probation, I reminded him; maybe they could help him find another place to live? He agreed to try. 

He'd just begun working at an auto parts store, staying with different friends on different nights, when he had to work late and missed his ride. He was sleeping on a park bench when a police officer stopped, ran his information, realized he was out after the regional probation curfew, and took him to jail. 

He was in jail as I headed to New York for my summer vacation.

After a week or two he was released from jail. He was released to a halfway house, and was excited - they helped people find better jobs and save money, and Mikey was thinking about stacking some paper and relocating out of PA as soon as he could afford to. He asked about Orlando, and I told him that I'd consider it if he made it through the program. 

I was in New York, on my boat, when I got the text. A week into the program, Mikey had been caught talking to a girl - a rule violation - and they'd kicked him out of the program.

He was living in the woods, laying on a blanket he'd borrowed. The mosquitoes were biting, and he was miserable. He had gone deep into the woods to avoid being picked up by the police again. He knew that he couldn't get caught, because he'd go straight to jail, just like before. He planned to sleep in the woods, and then try to hitchhike to Las Vegas, where another singer lived and had agreed to let him stay for a few months. That kid would be back in Vegas in two weeks.

I mulled that over. I didn't like the idea of him hitchhiking, although I knew he'd probably done it many times before. Plus, I was on vacation for another five weeks, and besides an event I was working that weekend, I had no concrete plans. I'd already told him that, a week before, and as he danced around his plans - hitchhike, sleep in the woods, and other similar bleakness - I realized that Mikey was fishing for my help.

Finally, he asked.

"Yo, what are you doing for the next few weeks?"

I texted back and reminded him that I'd already told him I'd be on vacation through mid-August. 

The phone rang.

"Bro... I know that I owe you, but... is there anything I could do to get you to let me stay with you on your vacation for a few weeks?"

I'd already mentioned the possibility of him coming to visit months before when I booked my flights. He was only a few hours away from my boat, and I figured by then he should have his shit together. In the absence of that, I'd planned to drive to the city next to his for a diaper excursion, and figured I'd fit in a visit with him. Since then, though, he'd been to jail once, homeless twice... it hadn't been a good few months for Mikey.

Still, I told him I'd be willing to consider it. 

"Greyhound is running a special," he told me. "It'll cost you $200."

I was instantly annoyed. 

He'd still not paid me back a buck, and it had been a full year. On top of that, I'd loaned him money to help with him his phone. Plus, my vacation budget was tight - I had taken off six weeks, some unpaid. Now we were talking about a bus ticket?

I told him I wasn't sure if I was ready to pay for his ticket there. I'd somehow been thinking that he had the money for the trip, or would be able to get a ride, or something. I didn't have time to drive into PA and get him - the event was just a few days later. 

"Damn, these mosquitoes are BITING!" he threw in. 

"Trying to guilt trip me to get yourself a trip?" I asked, point blank. I've talked straight up to Mikey since I first met him, and this seemed like a good time to continue that.

And then Mikey poured it on...

"Make you feel guilty?!" he asked me. "Nah, bro.... I should feel guilty. I stole from you! And lied to you! You don't know how ashamed I am... and now I'm homeless, broke, and have nowhere to go, and the fact that you're even still talking to me, much less considering letting me spend time with you on your vacation..."

Sigh...

I thought it over. I had the event that weekend. Did I really want to have Mikey tagging along? Could I even trust that he was sober? I wasn't sure. I asked him some questions, and we talked over my concerns. He was willing to work at the event, and promised to work his ass off, doing whatever was needed. Plus, he had a food stamp card that was good anywhere, so I wouldn't have to feed him. 

Hmmm...

I knew that paying for his bus ticket to New York would probably mean that, somehow, I'd get stuck paying for his bus ticket out of New York. That would be some dough. I'd been thinking about helping one of my AB friends with his ticket to New York to spend a weekend on the boat, and I'd planned to go to Toronto, Albany, and PA - all trips which would cost me gas, tolls, and hotels. I'd hoped to have some diaper fun on this trip, and paying for someone's bus ticket to get him out of homelessness, while altruistic, would ruin that.

I was still considering that, going back and forth between feeling justified and feeling selfish as fuck, when he threw it in...

"And, if you pay for my ticket, I'll wear diapers for you while I'm there."

Uhhhhh....

I asked Mikey to explain how he knew about diapers. 

We hadn't discussed it, and when he had been in Orlando I'd been extra safe to make sure he hadn't found out.

I'd considered telling him the last time he'd asked about moving to Orlando - just to get it out there. But hadn't, yet. I almost had, since I figured that anyone who respected me wouldn't fail to repay me. Only because I know enough about addiction to know that drugs can make people respect nothing did I refrain from saying anything. 

Mikey told me a story about me texting him from a Google Voice number which had included Abysitter in the name. This had been a year or two before, just after he'd moved out of Orlando, and he'd researched until he'd found my blog. He'd read part of it. He knew about diapers and had for a while. 

"I'm totally cool with it, bro," he told me. "I respect you a lot, and I guess I don't totally understand it, but I want to. If it's important to you, it's important to me..."

Slyly, he was winning me over. He was offering to wear in exchange for his ticket... did I have the power to say no to that? 

I had wanted to spend time with Mikey since he'd left Orlando. 

I'd already offered to have him to New York months before.

And now I had five weeks free... and Mikey was homeless. 

It was an offer I decided I couldn't refuse.

Before I agreed, though, I asked him what he was expecting. 

"I'll wear five times?" he offered. "You can do pictures, or whatever." 

"I usually bust," I told him. "Is this gonna be weird for you?"

He promised that it wouldn't, and told me that he knew enough about it from the blog to know what to expect.

"But Chris... please... if you're going to do it, I wanna leave tomorrow," he told me. "This really does suck."

That night I went to Greyhound.com and paid for the ticket. Mikey would leave the next day and, even though I was breaking several of my own rules - including a second (or, really, a third) loan to someone who hadn't repaid the first, and simply paying for someone else's bus ticket - I found myself excited about spending a week or two with my across-the-country-best-friend.

The diapers were really just a plus...

To Be Continued...