See you at CAPCON? I'm pleased to announce that I will be co-presenting a workshop at CAPCON! I'll be joined by Baby Spencey, and we'll be leading a discussion of ABDL and the internet: past, present, and future. We'll talk about how much the internet has transformed this community through the years, as well as the challenges (cyberbullying, underage littles, and more) that we face in the future. Come prepared to share your stories!  Friday, March 31 3:50 p.m. - 5:20 p.m. in Classroom B I'll hoping to meet as many of you as possible this year, including some visitors to the room in the evening as well as throughout the con space during the event. Planning to attend? Email me and let me know! Tyson and I hope to have some playpen peeps swing by, and I'd like to do a few photoshoots as well, so if anyone is down for pamping up and posing for the camera, hit me up. I'll post more details as we get closer to the event, but be sure to let me know if you'll be attending, and don't be shy this year - get at me!  abysitter@gmail.com  See you there!  Cwis PS: Not going to be at CAPCON? Don't worry, we'll be posting the PowerPoint presentation at some point in the near future right here on the blog!

E-Book For Sale!

For those of you new to my blog, check out my e-book: 350 pages of mostly-true ABDL stories. Filled with photos and commentary, selling for $9.99 on my blog:

CLICK TO BUY

Baby Pics (and Artwork!) from LorenzoNappieTime

Up today, I have some new pics and artwork from LorenzoNappieTime! He's submitted pics before, and done a Q&A in the past, as well. Check him out on Tumblr and Twitter! Thanks, Lorenzo. 

[PHOTOS COPYRIGHT ABYSITTER.COM]

[DO NOT REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT PERMISSION]

And some artwork, commissioned by Lorenzo

from DiaperPailArkham.

Q&A With Scott Jobs

CWIS'S NOTE: Up today I have a Q&A with someone new: Scott Jobs. If you have an ABDL Facebook account you'll find him there - add him, he's looking for diapered friends. Scotty is aged 19 and lives in Baja California, Mexico. 

I think Scotty may be my first-ever Q&A from that country. Who else wants to share their story with my readers? Email me, and put Q&A in the subject - I'll respond with the questions. 18+

Q&A With Scott Jobs

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[DO NOT REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT PERMISSION]

Name/Nick:  SCOTT JOBS
Age:  19 ☑
City/State/Country:  BAJA CALIFORNIA (MEX)
AB/DL/BabyFur/Other? AB – DL (more AB than DL)  

When did you first realize you were ABDL? 

Well, when I was just a little kid I was a bedwetter, from like 5 years to 15 years old. I wore diapers (more like baby diapers)… and well, over time I came to really love it!!! Of course I was ashamed, at first… but by the time I turned 15 I was still wearing, just in secret.

I entered the ABDL world around the age of 13 or 14. I saw the model Scotty of qualitydiapers.net (now undercarewear), and he was my age - he was sort of like an “inspiration” I guess. 

Now I am 19, and I work with my daddy selling diapers in Mexico. I use my own pics for modeling diapers. My favorite diapers are Little Paws and, for school I prefer Cushies nwn. 

When I was in high school I met a very brave girl who would walk around with a pacifier and baby bottles. I say brave because she used them in the school. I wanted to have a relationship with her but then I saw her kissing a boy, and I asked if he was his boyfriend and surprise !! she told me “he is my best friend, my boyfriend lives in Tijuana." I was like... no... slut. :(  

These days I really don’t care if people see my diapers in public. When I´m with my daddy (Abdl) I give him a lot of hugs in public nwn. I really love him, he is the best and eventually I wanna live with him, but first I need finish university.

Do your parents and/or siblings know about you and diapers? If so, please explain how, and how they reacted? 

Yes, they know. My dad and mom treated it like it was a joke… that made me a little sad. My grandmother actually took it a little … “bad” hehehe. She was surprised more when I told her I have a daddy. 

For collegebabies/DLs, did this interest affect your college experiences? If so, how? 

…. A little … one or two years ago a member of my school (I really believe was the girl of the high school) find my open Instagram full of pics of me in diapers and well… she showed them to all my school. Haha - but don't worry, it didn't turn out that bad, some friends actually accepted it. A few just don’t wanna know nothing about that.  

How has this fetish affected your social life and/or dating? Married life? Parenting? 

My friends know, but that doesn't affect my social life. 

Some experts believe that we become the way we are because of traumas experienced at an early age, including abuse and/or neglect. Do your life experiences bear this out? 

Nope.  

NOTE: sorry for my horrible English :s

CWIS'S NOTE: I edited some of this for clarity. 

Don't forget to check out Scott

on Facebook:

facebook.com/scotty.qd

Want to do a Q&A?

Email me:

abysitter@gmail.com

Just put "Q&A" in the subject

and I'll respond

with the questions. 

18+

Q&A With ATwinkyToddler

Up today I've got a Q&A and some adorable photos from someone new: ATwinkyToddler! You probably know him from all those Tumblr reblogs. Today he opens up and shares his story - check it out below. 

Want to share your story with my readers? Email abysitter@gmail.com and put "Q&A" in the subject - I'll email you the questions! 18+

Q&A with ATwinkyToddler 

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[DO NOT REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT PERMISSION]

Name/Nick: ATwinkyToddler 

Age: 21 

City/State/Country: Pacific Northwest, USA

ABDL  

When did you first realize you were ABDL?  

From a very young age, I've had an affinity for diapers. My earliest memories are from when I was 4-5 when I still had night time accidents. I clearly remember my father telling me that I was out of pull-ups, so I had to wear one of my baby brother's diapers. He even tried fastening the tapes as to make the diaper look like a pull-up, but I was smarter than that.  Of course, me wanting to be a big boy, I refused to wear one, and went to bed. To my surprise, I woke up with a wet diaper on, and proudly pranced around my brother's room saying “ Look at me, I'm a baby like you guys!”  

At age 12 or so, I started reading diaper stories off of deeker, which really solidified my love for diapers. I found a label to put on my interest, ABDL, and with the power of the internet, knew there were more like me.   

What steps did you take to get your diaper 'fix' as a child and/or teen?  

Being the devious boy I was, I of course stole cousins / brothers diapers whenever I could. When I would go to daycare for grade school I'd steal diapers, and even put multiple on so I could have some for later at home. I thankfully never got caught there. After all I was just an innocent 8 year old. At 12-14, I'd bike to Walgreens to go buy the newly released Pampers size 7. Looking back, the cashier probably thought it was a bit weird that someone my age would be buying diapers so early in the morning. I had my fake shopping list and loads of excuses ready to go. I would buy 3 packs, as much as my backpack could hold, and store them in my attic. Fun times, and I can still squeeze Pampers on to this day.

Do your parents and/or siblings know about you and diapers? If so, please explain how, and how they reacted?  

Well, my family knew something was up. I'd chase my brothers around, pin them down and put a diaper on them, always got caught stealing because I'd get greedy and take too many. My behavior was mostly dismissed as weird, but once I hit puberty, I really started to raise eyebrows. It wasn't ever really talked about, only when I got caught, thankfully. I'd get embarrassed even watching commercials with diapers in them near family. Well, it's roughly a decade later since any of my family has an incident with me, so I'm inclined to believe those memories are tucked away in the corners of their mind.

Have you dealt with the shame and regret that is the binge/purge cycle? Please explain.  

Eh, at times yes, but I've only been out on my own for a little while, so as of now I have no binge or purge thoughts because I've met a wonderful guy that shares the same interests.  

Sometimes I'd just throw away my stash and stop thinking about diapers for weeks or months. I've gone a whole year without thinking of diapers at all. Now I can thankfully say I've been the happiest I've been in years.  

Call the fetish weird all you want, but I'm not harming anyone or myself, it's just a little fun thing I do. Some people like drugs, and ruin their lives, I just like to wear diapers in the privacy of my own home, or underneath my clothes. I'm a pretty regular guy otherwise. I work, pay my bills, enjoy my time with family and friends like most other people.

How has this fetish affected your social life and/or dating? Married life? Parenting?  

It hasn't really affected my social life. I don't live an intense, far-off-baseline lifestyle that causes me to be detached from normality, which is a very important thing. You can't have your entire life revolve around a sexual/non sexual fetish, it's just unhealthy. I've seen some who want to live in a fantasy world where they have a mommy or daddy take care of them, and they live a carefree life. One, in my opinion I find that extremely unhealthy, and two, at the end of the day, I absolutely love being an independent adult. I get immense satisfaction from shaping my life the way I want it.  

Because of this, I have had the opportunity to get myself a crib custom made, make my room a cute little nursery, and other nice things. Only my room is babyish, but my apartment looks like a nicely kept 20-something year old den. I keep my place clean, work hard, play later.  

As for dating, I had no issues picking up guys, meeting for dates, having a decent conversation, but I've always been missing something. It's like a secret you wanna share but can't. I've come to realize that being an ABDL is a big part of me, and while I have met some great people, I just couldn't do the relationship. I was too afraid of telling them what I liked. That's where FetLife helped me. I met an amazing guy who shares the same interests that I do.  

A very important thing to note is, you can't just date someone because they share a fetish with you. You have to obviously get along, you know, the whole regular stuff that also goes into a relationship. I'm sure there are people out there who said “Screw it” and dated someone anyways even if they had little in common, or were generally incompatible otherwise. It can be tempting, but thanks to the internet, it makes it a lot easier to meet people.

Some experts believe that we become the way we are because of traumas experienced at an early age, including abuse and/or neglect. Do your life experiences bear this out?  

Maybe a little bit, as I've known that being an ABDL was a part of me from an early age. I can say, though, that the poor life experiences that I have had has made me a better person. I was between homes quite a bit, suffered through a lot of physical and mental abuse, had alcoholic family members who weren't the most friendly drunks, changed schools a lot, and at times thought I wouldn't ever make it to adulthood. You know, what I've learned is that I guess at the least, I know how I'll never treat another human being.  

Maybe I want to relive the childhood I never had, and never got the nurturing that was typical of children. I'm not stuck in the past, I've never let myself become a victim of my own circumstances, I was too strong to do that.  

Here I am today, I could never be happier, and I love my life.

For the little dunces, please tell us about what it was like to discover this fetish/lifestyle on the Internet. Please be at least 18 at the time of writing, but be specific about what age you discovered it, what sites helped you, and keep this part PG for obvious reasons.  

Oh boy, I remember my first Google searches for “Diaper stories”. That's how I came across deeker. I knew at least that there must be more like me, so I never thought I was too too weird. None of it at a young age was ever sexual for me. It was more of the nurturing and AB side of things I liked. I would imagine myself to the the main character of whatever story I read, and it really helped solidify my love for ABDL stuff.

Do your interests involve a subset of this community, such as babyfurs, diaper disciplinarians, wet/messy, sissybabies etc.? Please tell us about it. I won't even try to be specific here; just tell us what you think people should know.  

I think furries are cute, and if I was one, I'd be a weasel, but I am not a furry. Would I put on a fursuit and role play with someone? Probably, if given the opportunity, but I have no interest in getting a suit, nor do I really follow the fandom, but furry stuff is cute.

What % of your sexual activities and/or masturbation incorporate diapers? Has this caused problems for you?  

95%. I really hated myself for awhile because I can rarely get off without thinking about diapers. Hell, if I'm having sex with someone I have to think about diapers just to get off. You can imagine the problems that caused with dating someone who is vanilla. I've accepted it as just the way things are.  

I'm not very big on sex to be honest. ABDL is mostly non-sexual for me, but if I get sexual, diapers have to be involved, if that makes any sense.

If you get into the regression aspect of ABDL please tell us more about that. If you do not, and you have feelings about being lumped into a fetish involving it, explain how it makes you feel.  

I have yet to really delve into this sort of thing. I do want to try, but the hardest part is letting go. I mean, I'm not crazily interested in regression, but I'll try most things once.  I don't think regression should be lumped into ABDL. While the two can very much so go hand in hand, sometimes they don't. I can see why people think ABDL can mean regression, but I know some people who are into just being a little, and don't like diapers at all. 

FOLLOW HIM ON TUMBLR!

atwinkytoddler.tumblr.com

WANT TO SHARE YOUR STORY

WITH THE COMMUNITY?

DO A Q&A!

EMAIL ABYSITTER@GMAIL.COM

AND PUT

"Q&A" 

IN THE SUBJECT. 

I'LL EMAIL YOU THE QUESTIONS! 

18+

Our Bonds Are Strong...

OUR BONDS ARE STRONG... 

We have our own language.

If I were to stop you on the street and ask, “are you padded” – you’d have no trouble understanding exactly what I am asking you.

“You heard the crinkle?” you might reply.

“Yep. Cushie?” I might guess.

“Dry 24/7,” you might say. “Gotta have that thickness, bro.” 

“Had those in my stash, before my last purge,” I might tell you.

“Going to Teddy?” you’d likely inquire. 

Anyone around us who heard that conversation would probably be like: What. The. Fuck. Is. This. Conversation. Even. About? 

But we’d get it.

Because we understand each other.

We speak the same language.

We are the only people who do.

We don’t realize that, of course, until we do our first internet search – probably something like “why do I like diapers” – and we finally find out that we’re not alone.

But once we do find out, and we surf the net and realize how ‘not alone’ we actually are, a wave of relief sweeps over us.

Eventually, we begin to make friends. 

And, for most of us, at some point we realize that these aren’t just friends - it’s like we have a second family out there.

People who understand us in a way that nobody outside of this community could ever hope to.

Our secrets – and the connection we feel when we finally find someone else who speaks our ‘language’ – is probably why the bonds we make with one another are so strong.

The next time you are thinking about purging, think about how valuable you are to this community, and how valuable this community probably is to you. 

Before you deactivate your Tumblr account, or throw away all of your diapers and baby stuff, remember that your pictures, stories, comments, and other contributions to the community probably mean as much to someone as others’ mean to you. 

Be proud of who you are, and your role in all of this. That’s what being a part of the #ABDL community is all about. 

- Cwis | Abysitter.com

SHARE ON TUMBLR 

Baby Spencey: New ABDL Flag? Vote!

Baby Spencey is working on some design mockups for an ABDL flag! I couldn't embed the code here, but read his explanation, and then check out his concepts and vote! 

Click the link to go to his page on Google Forms, and be sure to leave any comments below! 

Ik a lot of people are aware that we have had an ABDL flag design for our community. Well I, Baby Spencey, have felt for a while that this flag has needed some updating. Not to say that the old flag is bad, I really do like it, but thing it is time for a change and know several others that feel the same way. This is not intended to offend anyone (mostly of course the person that designed the old flag) but just feel like many of us may need right now that its time for a change. So I have designed 6 slightly different designs for a new flag idea and feel it would be best to let the community vote. How to Vote: The six options will let you pick your top three choices. All three questions are required and the top three will be brought to a final vote. Preliminary voting ends Friday, March 17th at 3pm Mountain time. Please share this link with all your abdl friends so all voices can be heard! Thanks! 

Stay Padded Everyone!
-Baby Spencey

CLICK TO VOTE

Coming soon...

Coming Soon...

Naming Contest

SNL Skit - hahahaha...

Check out the video of this week's Saturday Night Live for a quick glimpse of their depiction of a CNN reporter put "in the corner" by White House press secretary Sean Spicer. (If you don't follow American news, our president's press secretary has had a pretty cantankerous relationship with the media.) Here's a screen grab... 

Here's the full video... 

Mikey & Me: The Final Chapter

[CWIS'S NOTE] Up today is the final chapter in the Mikey & Me story. This is the story of a couple of weeks I spent with a straight, non-ABDL friend who visited me while I was on vacation - he'd been homeless in another state, and offered to trade some time in diapers for a bus ticket and a place to stay, an offer I couldn't refuse. 

If you haven't read the entire story, you can read it here. Sorry for all of the duplicate pictures - this blog entry is actually nine or ten different blog entries put together from over the years, and while he was cool with me taking pics for the blog, I didn't want to go crazy with it. 

Want to read the entire story in its entirety, with all the pictures - plus a bunch of other stories? Consider purchasing my e-book. It's 350+ pages of true ABDL stories, pictures I've taken over the years, and some diaper commentary. Priced at $9.99, you can check out the 'table of contents' and purchase it here: 

BUY MY ABDL E-BOOK

Proceeds are being put toward some ABDL resource projects I am working on, and your support is appreciated. But if you're only down for the free stuff, just stay tuned to the blog... I'll have more new stories out soon... 

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Mikey & Me: PART X 

"The Final Chapter: Mikey Gets A Spanking" 

TRIGGER WARNING: SPANKING SCENES BELOW

Night had fallen, and Mikey had gotten quiet.

He’d spent the entire afternoon on my laptop, working on his music website with my help. Sometime between my cousins’ visit and dinnertime a creative bug had hit him, and he had decided to do a complete overhaul, a redesign. 

I have to admit, I was impressed by his abilities on the computer. Mikey was virtually racing through programs on my laptop. One minute he was designing a logo, the next writing HTML code for his blog. I watched as he uploaded a few of the tracks I’d saved to a music site, and then pasted that code onto his own. Within a few hours his online presence was back. It would have taken me two or three days to do all of that, I thought.

“You’re actually pretty good at this,” I told him.

 “If I had a laptop all the time imagine where I’d be,” he replied.

“You could have had a laptop, bro…” I pointed out, reminding him that he'd pawned the one I'd helped him buy when he was on his daily dose of heroin. Mikey's face turned red and he turned to me, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking into my eyes in a most serious manner.

“You know I am mad ashamed of myself for that, right?” he asked me.

 I nodded. I hadn’t even meant to bring it up again – I wasn’t trying to kill the positive vibe Mikey was in. It had just – come out of my mouth. Still, he was right – and so was I. A laptop would have made a big difference in his musical efforts – and he would have had a laptop if he hadn’t turned back to drugs.

 “I bet you can’t wait to whip this ass tonight.” Mikey’s statement brought me back to reality – and yes, his spanking was just a few short hours away.

 “I’ve been working on my arm strength waiting for this one,” I quipped. Mikey looked at me, rolling his eyes, and then realized that I was kidding. He laughed.

 “C’mon, Cwis – you could barely carry your own bag at the event. I’m not too worried about your arm strength.”

 “We’ll see, bro,” I said.

 “I’m not worried.” With that, Mikey dove back into his work, and I sat contentedly in my chair, watching him go at it. He was wearing nothing but a diaper and a t-shirt, a paci clipped to it. Every once in a while he would walk his little padded ass into the kitchen and make another cup of coffee. He alternated between sucking on the pacifier and slurping down mugs. It was adorable, and I was totally relaxed, taking it all in.

 As darkness began to fall I announced that it was nearing time for Mikey’s spanking.

 “Wait!” he called out, “didn’t you want to go swimming in just diapers?” I had said that, I admitted. “Well, tonight is the perfect night!” he told me. “Your neighbors on the beach side aren’t home, and the sky is perfectly clear. Let’s do a little diapered swimming and star gazing, and you can pummel my ass when we come back up!”

 I had to laugh. I agreed that would be acceptable, but warned Mikey that he’d better not be offering to swim in diapers just to avoid what was coming next. He looked at me as though I’d accused him of being a communist or something, and shook his head profusely.

 “One thing you’ll learn about me is that I’m a man of my word. Or, in this case, a baby of my word, Cwis. If I say I’m going to do something, I do it.”

 “Well, me too, Mikey,” I replied. “And when we come back upstairs I’m going to light your asscheeks on fire. Let’s go swim…”

 “I’d like to say that worries me, but I’m more worried about being bit by a fish in the lake than by the prospect of my butt catching on fire, to be honest,” Mikey told me.

 Maybe this kid was tougher than I gave him credit for?

 Mikey and I stripped down to our diapers and walked the 36 steps to the beach. There were no neighbors in sight, so we threw our towels onto the steps in front of the boathouse and walked directly over to the beach.

“Big bwo Cwis – carry me!” Mikey suddenly said, far too loudly. With that he put his hands around my neck and sort of started trying to climb up onto me. “Stop, stop!” The walk into the lake was a gradual one, and the bottom was strewn with rocks – it was hard enough to walk into deeper water without falling down, let alone trying to carry a 150lb “baby” with you. That wasn’t happening… “This is child neglect,” Mikey cried, as he let go and began the long walk into the lake. I let him go first, and watched him and he gradually made his way to deeper water. I watched as the waterline slowly made its way up his diaper, and then over. “Fuck! Fuck! Forgot how cold it is!” he called out, turning around with a very annoyed – but adorable – look on his face. “The water is flooding into my Pamper!”

“You gotta go under, bro,” I reminded him. “Once you get used to it it’ll feel okay.”

“That’s what you said about wearing diapers,” he joked. I laughed.

“They don’t feel okay?”

“Nah, it’s cool… they feel normal now,” Mikey admitted. “In fact, I’m probably going to have to remind myself to put on a swim suit before I go swimming wherever I get to next.”

“Afraid you might put a diaper on by accident?”

“Yea.” Mikey was slowly backing into the water as we spoke, and a few seconds later he’d stepped on a big rock and took a tumble, going all the way under. “It’s cold, it’s cold, it’s cold!” Mikey cried out. He rushed to stand. The water was up to his neck, now. I took a few giant steps further out and dove in, careful to grab onto my own diaper to make sure it didn’t fall off. 

Mikey and I spent more than an hour in the water. He was extremely playful, and kept showing me his best dolphin moves, jumping out of the water and across it like a porpoise, careful to hold his diaper with both hands to keep it from falling off.

“This is getting heavy,” Mikey yelled across the water at one point. I remember looking around furtively, making sure there weren’t any neighbors out on their docks each time Mikey sailed up into the air. It was clear that he was wearing a diaper, and nothing but a diaper.

“Keep that ass underwater, bro,” I suggested several times. Mikey just rolled his eyes and jumped again each time. A few times I told him I was getting tired, and each time he objected, telling me he was having fun and wasn’t ready to go up yet. I began to question whether Mikey was just urging that we stay in the water because he knew a spanking awaited him upstairs. I finally asked him, and the sheepish look on his face said it all…

 “Let’s go, Spanky,” I said sternly. Mikey reluctantly plodded his way to the dock. He looked around – no neighbors in view anywhere – and began the long climb up the ladder from the lake to the top of the dock.

“Holy fuck, Chris – this is heavy!” he called out, stopping his climb on mid-rung. “It’s about to fall off, Chris – should I just take it off?”

I reached up, putting my hand square on the backside of Mikey’s diaper. It was filled with water, and super thick. As I pushed it against his bum water poured out all sides, cascading down his legs and pouring on top of me.

“I think you just had a golden shower, Cwis,” Mikey  quipped, looking downward at me and giggling. “Well, it was pretty diluted with lakewater, actually, so… you just had a regular shower laced with gold.”

 I had to laugh – I didn’t know Mikey knew anything about watersports.

“Just keep climbing,” I told him. He did, and was finally up on the dock and able to hold on to his own diaper. I climbed out, doing the same with mine. With nobody around to see I allowed mine to fall down most of the way, pulling it back up once I was on the dock.

“Dude, full moon,” Mikey said, laughing and covering his eyes. Once I’d covered up he pointed to the sky, where there actually was a full moon making its way over the horizon. “See?”

Mikey had to hike his diaper up all the way up the stairs and onto the deck, as did I. A diaper wet with lake water weighs way more than a urine-soaked diaper – even a Dry 24/7 after a full night of wettings stays on somewhat, but a ‘lake diaper’ – not even a little.

 “Watch this.”

Mikey stood in front of me on the deck to the cottage now, moving his hips around a few times, and we watched as his diaper fell to the floor with a loud thud. I immediately laughed – his little hula dance had been adorable, after all – but Mikey looked down at his penis, back up at me, and immediately covered himself with both hands.

“Um, you know they get smaller in water, right?” he asked me. I had to laugh. Shrinkage. Mikey’s face was red, now, so I just nodded.

“What was that you said about being a grower, not a shower?”

He was laughing now, too.

“Well, I’m about to get spanked, so I don’t think I’ll be showing anytime soon…”

I’d almost forgotten about that.

“Maybe we’ll pass on that tonight,” I suggested.

Truthfully, I was having second thoughts about spanking him at all – more than an hour holding someone against you as they suck their thumb and wet themselves kind of brings out the nurturing instincts, and the idea of busting some ass right afterwards is less appealing.

 “Oh, no, Cwis. We’re getting it done. I spent all day today dreading this and I don’t want to go through that again. Plus there’s not many nights left of your vacation. So… tonight, okay?”

I nodded in agreement, but I still wasn’t sure. I think Mikey could sense that, and a worried look came across his face.

“Honestly, bro, this is more for me than it is for you,” he continued. “You’ve been so good to me this whole trip, and I’ve felt bad about this the whole time. Knowing you were going to paddle me made me feel a little better, so if you take that away from me…”

“Nah, I got you,” I reassured him. “But you’ve been good to me, Mikey. This whole week has been one of the best weeks I’ve ever had. I mean – I got to diaper a friend, and – “

“Me too, bro,” Mikey interrupted. “I got to get diapered by my 'big bwo', and – “ he trailed off, and we both laughed.

“Even if I didn’t spank you, I sort of feel like you’ve made up for – “

“I’m taking that spanking, Chris,” Mikey said. “No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Well, maybe a butt...”

Mikey had grabbed a towel off the porch railing and was rubbing his bottom with it, getting it nice and dry. I knew that a wet bum intensifies the spank effect, but didn’t say anything – if he’d spent an hour clinging to me to try to avoid it, he’d be sorry shortly. Before I could say anything Mikey asked me where the paddle was. (It was an acrylic cutting board that I’d had out on the counter but had stuck in a cupboard for the past few days – out of sight, out of mind.) I told him, and he walked across the living room, retrieving it and bringing it to me.

“Where are we gonna do this, bro?” he asked, putting the paddle in my hand. I pointed to the bed in the bedroom, and he obediently walked to it, sitting down.

“Stand up,” I directed, and Mikey complied. I pulled on a pair of boxers and put on a t-shirt. “Can I put on a – “ Mikey began to ask, hopefully.

“No shirt,” I told him. He laughed.

“I was about to ask for a diaper.”

“Are you crazy? No… noooooo. Barebottom only.”

“Now I’m starting to see why you said this might hurt a little,” Mikey said. I could see a look of concern on his face, now. I couldn’t be sure if he really thought I was going to spank him through a diaper or not, but I knew that would be pointless. “Underpants, Cwis?”

 “Barebottom, Mikey.”

 “Well, then, I have a confession to make… I might not be as tough as I said before.”

 “I’m not worried about it,” I told him, parroting his popular refrain back to him. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. I closed the door to the bedroom and pointed to the bed. “Okay, bro. Here are the rules.”

 “There are… rules?”

 “Rules,” I reiterated. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir,” I corrected. “That’s rule #1. Forget and I add a swat. Understood?”

 “Yes, sir,” Mikey replied. “Wait – add? How many of these are there?”

 “I’m not sure yet,” I answered, honestly. “How many did you think there were?”

 “One?” Mikey couldn’t be serious. The look on my face must have been one of absolute astonishment, because he burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe two.”

 “Okay, maybe two, SIR,” I corrected him. “So now we’re up to at least three…”

 “Sorry, SIR!” Mikey blurted out. He was still laughing, but less so, and I imagined that the difficulty of the task ahead was beginning to sink in. And I hadn’t even gone over all of the rules with him yet…

 “Rule number two. Keep your hands and elbows on the mattress. No matter how badly your bottom hurts, if you stand up or walk around the spanking you just got doesn’t count.”

 “Oh, Goddddd,” Mikey blurted out.

 “Oh, Goddddd, SIR,” I corrected.

 “Damn. Damn, sir,” Mikey corrected himself.

 “Rule number three: no swearing. Every swear gets you an extra swat.”

 “Oh no. Yes, sir,” Mikey groaned.

 “Rule number four, keep your eyes straight ahead. And rule number five – if you ask to get out of this, or try to wiggle that ass when the paddle is incoming to avoid a spank, you get an extra two.”

“Oh my… gosh! Sir!” Mikey responded. I could tell he was nervous now, and I was starting to have fun. “Sir, I’m not trying to get out of this. Not at all, sir.” Mikey had suddenly got very serious. “Sir, you loaned me money for a laptop, and I bought it – I swear I did! I even showed you, remember?”

I nodded.

 “But then I did the same shit – fuck, I mean – damn it.” Mikey was realizing how fucked he really was – he had just swore three times in one sentence, and the gravity of the situation was clearly setting in. “I’m sorry for the swears, sir. I’ll take all the extra swats. I’m just trying to tell you how ashamed I am of my behavior. Before this begins.”

 I assured him I understood.

“I appreciate you stepping up, bro,” I told him. “I was pretty demoralized after you pawned that laptop and disappeared. That money was money I had been saving for a trip to the beach, and loaning it to you for a laptop meant I couldn’t go on the trip. The same weekend I realized you’d fucked up was the weekend my friends went out to Cocoa Beach. It was so hot that weekend. And I stayed inside, sweating my ass off, thinking about where you might be, if you were even okay, and what might have gone wrong.”

 “I wasn’t okay, and I thought about you a lot that weekend, too,” Mikey said. I figured he was lying – he probably was high as fuck that weekend. “I hope you were diapered, at least, sir,” Mikey continued.

 I felt my face get red. Now I was annoyed.

 “I had run out of diapers. That was part of your loan money, too.” That part was a lie. But Mikey didn’t need to know that.

 “Now I feel really shit – I mean, really awful, sir.”

 “You can show me how bad you feel when you stand there and take every swat,” I countered. Mikey assured me he was going to take every single one. “Every. Single. One.” The way he drew the words out, I could see he was readying himself for this. I snapped my fingers and pointed at the mattress. Mikey sat again, but I ordered him to stand and turn around, then to put his hands and elbows on the mattress and face forward. He obediently complied.

 “After each swat, am I supposed to say ‘thank you sir, may I have another’?” he wanted to know.

“Sounds good,” I told him. I don’t usually do that, but I’d seen it in videos, and thought it sounded hot. I wondered if Mikey had seen spanking videos, too. Maybe he had watched some in preparation for this? “And count them out at the beginning. “One, two…”

 “You mean one, sir!” Mikey corrected me, laughing.

 Mikey stood prone, bent over, almost crouched over the mattress. I put my hands on his legs, putting them back toward me, putting them out a little so that his bottom was at the level my paddle would be landing. Then I put my hand in between his legs, pushing them apart a little. Mikey didn’t speak, and seemed hunkered down, ready for swat #1. I put the paddle up against Mikey’s bottom, rubbing it back and forth gently. As I did, I began a lecture about asking people for money they don’t have, and then failing to repay them. I just sort of mumbled some stuff to make it seem more legit, but the truth was, I was ready to go ham on Mikey’s behind. And go ham I did.

 WHAM!!! 

The first swat landed with a force that even surprised me, making a thwack sound that filled the air in the little bedroom. Mikey jumped up into the air a little, but was very careful to keep his hands and elbows on the mattress, though he began rubbing his arms across the comforter vigorously, trying to disperse some of the energy that the nerve endings in his buttocks probably needed to release somewhere.

 “Oh… my… God. Wow, sir,” Mikey finally spoke. “Wow. Are they all going to be that hard, sir?”

“Harder,” I replied, as sternly as possible. Mikey began shaking his head. “And what really sucks is, that one didn’t even count.”

 “What do you mean, didn’t count, sir?” Mikey asked, sounding alarmed.

 “You didn’t count it out,” I reminded him. “One, sir… so we’ll actually call that zero. Ready for number one?”

 “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Mikey asked me incredulously. “Sir!”

 He almost yelped the word ‘sir’, trying to sneak it into the sentence he had just uttered. I wasn’t going to hold that against him – I’d just told him the first swat he’d gotten hadn’t counted. I didn’t answer his question, but began rubbing the paddled across his bottom again. He winced the moment he felt it.

 CRACK!!! 

I landed the second swat just as hard as the first, but on his left cheek as opposed to the right. Mikey’s bottom was turning red very quickly, and I wondered if that was because of the force of my paddle swats or if he just had a sensitive bum. I admired how the redness on one side was almost a mirror image of the other.

 “One, sir! Thank you, sir, may I please…”

 Mikey shuddered, sucking in air. It was clear that the second paddle swat had hurt a lot, but he hadn’t felt the pain fully until he was in mid-sentence.

 “May I please… sir… may I… have… another?”

 “Of course you can, little bro, just give me a minute,” I answered, and Mikey sighed, shaking his head. I asked Mikey to give me an overview of what had happened to the laptop when he had disappeared. Then, as he searched his memory for the right words, I sat down in a chair and, my face inches from one of the most amazing bottoms I’ve ever seen, listening  as Michael told his story: he’d bought the laptop and spent days making new music, even filming a video on the webcam, but his heroin friends had been sending 286 him Facebook messages left and right, and it hadn’t taken long before one thing led to another and he was hanging out with them again. As Mikey spoke I stood up and began rubbing the paddle against his bottom again. He winced when he felt it touch, but continued his story. I let him finish, and then stepped back for swat #3.

 THWACK!!! 

The third spanking landed directly across the middle of Mikey’s ass, a trifecta of reddening that made his left cheek, his buttcrack, and his right cheek uniformly red. I could tell that Mikey felt this one immediately – he tucked his legs up under his body and began writhing on the mattress, wagging his tail back and forth in pain.

 “My hands… and elbows… touching… sir!”

Mikey was having a hard time breathing now, taking little breaths in between pleading yelps. I let him writhe on the mattress for a minute before ordering him to lay still.

 “Two, sir – thank you, sir, may I please… have… another.”

 I could see that he’d had trouble even getting the words out. I sat down on the bed next to him, putting my hand on his bottom, rubbing it gently. His ass was hot – and I mean that in a temperature sense. It really did feel like he was on fire.

 “Your bottom is red as hell right now, bro,” I told him. He had it up in the air, as though a cross breeze from the sliding glass door might cool it off. 

“I… don’t know… if I can do… all of these, sir.” Mikey’s statement came out as more of a plea for mercy.

 I had just connected three of the most effective bottom swats I’d ever given. I was like a professional baseball player trying to hit one over the fence – these were the hardest spankings I had ever given, and I was sure he was feeling it, now. So I really didn’t need to give him a ton of these, right?

“Well, if you can’t continue…” I said, and Mikey put his hand up into the air to stop me.

 “I can. I can. I can, sir,” Mikey replied. I noted that it seemed like he was more trying to convince himself, not me. “I’m not welshing on an agreement, sir. You brought me out here under the condition that I take a spanking, and I am taking it, sir.”

 To me, the diapering was much, much more important than any spanking in our verbal contract. To be honest, I couldn’t even remember if a spanking had been part of it. He had added that later, hadn’t he? Still, the fact that this was so important to Mikey, and his resolve to make it through to the end so strong, made me want to continue, just to see how far he would go.

 “If you can’t, you need to tell me,” I told him. He nodded. I snapped my fingers and he obediently took the spanking position I’d put him in before. I stepped back, took a step forward, and landed the next paddle swat with a force that put the first three to shame.

 BOOM! 

Mikey’s whole body contorted this time.

 “Fuck! Fuck!” he yelped. “Sir! I’m so sorry for the swears. But I can’t! I can’t!”

 “You can’t what, Mikey?” I asked him.

 “I just can’t. I just can’t, sir!” Mikey was breathing heavily now, and I thought he might start hyperventilating.

 “You can’t take responsibility for your actions? You can’t follow through with the commitment you made to me? You can’t follow simple rules, including not forgetting to count these out and not swearing? What is it you can’t do, bro?”

 Mikey was ashamed now, I could tell. He breathed in deeply, stopped writhing around, and slowly returned to spanking position.

 “Two sir! May I please have another one, sir?”

 “That was three,” I told him.

“No, sir,” he argued with me. “I swore. I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”

 “That’s right,” I replied. “Okay, here comes number three.” I rubbed the paddle against his bottom, which was swollen just a little bit now. He was slowly shaking his head, and his ass was trembling now. He started to put a hand on his butt, to feel it, but seemed to think better of it and put it back on the bed.

 “Sir, I don’t know if – “ 

“If what, Michael?”

 “Sir, I don’t know if I can do this. But I am going to do it. I promised you. And this is what I need to do to make that up to you, sir. So I am going to do it. If it’s the last thing I do…”

 Mikey’s pep talk to himself not withstanding, I had to chuckle at his last remark.

 “Sir,” he continued. “How many swats more, do you think?”

“Does that really matter?” I asked him.

 “No, sir” he replied dejectedly, hanging his head. I knew that this would be ending soon – his bottom was red and puffy now, with several distinct paddle markings. I wasn’t looking to turn the kid’s ass into hamburger meat, but I didn’t want to come off as easy, either.

 “Probably just another dozen or so,” I told him.

 Mikey gasped for a breath of air almost exactly as my next paddle swat rained the fire across his backside. It almost sounded like the wind had been knocked out of him. “Twelve more, sir?” he yelped out incredulously. “Oh… my… fucking… God!” He was beginning to cry, now, and the words coming out of his mouth were muffled as he put his face into his mattress. “I am so… so… so… sorry, sir. So sorry. So sorry. So sorry.”

As Mikey lay crying into the mattress he furiously waved his bottom back and forth.

 “Sir, I’m begging you… please…”

 “Please what, Mikey?” I demanded, feigning anger. I could see by the condition of the kid’s butt that he’d taken his limit – any more would probably bruise his ass. No point in letting him know that, though. “Please what? Please stop and let you off with four?”

 “Yes. No. Sir, I don’t even know. But this hurts so much, sir. I don’t even remember what the count was. I can’t even count past two right now, it hurts so bad.”

 Mikey was still crying, doing his best to muffle it with the mattress, and wiggling his bottom in the air. I sat down on the mattress and reached over, putting my hand squarely on that ass. It was trembling nonstop – his whole body seemed to be, now – and he winced and pulled his bottom away when I touched it. I gently rubbed it, and he held still for a few minutes. The heat on my hand was noticeable.

 “Just eleven more,” I said, and he let out a little cry.

 “I’m not going to try to stop you, sir. I have this coming. But I can’t believe how much this hurts, sir. I swear to everything that I love, I will never do something like this again…”

 “Remember earlier when you said you weren’t worried?” I asked him.

 “Sir… I was so wrong. So, so, so wrong, sir.”

 I had to chuckle. That much was obvious.

 “Sir,” he continued. “I didn’t know that they were going to be bare-assed. Oh, sir! I mean, bare bottom. I’m sorry for the swear!” Mikey let out a little sob, and I could tell the kid was done. I’d spanked other people before, and four was just my starting point. Sure, I’d applied an amazing amount of force to Mikey’s little behind, but still – he either had the most sensitive ass I’d ever seen, or he was a very good actor. “Sir, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry about all of this!” Mikey was still crying. “I’m sorry I asked to borrow money, I’m sorry I pawned that computer, I’m sorry I ruined your beach weekend, and I’m sorry that I had to ask you to pay for me to come out here. And I’m sorry that I didn’t want to come up here before, I really did play in the water for an hour because I was scared and putting this off….”

 “I figured that, bro,” I said quietly, as Mikey continued to sniffle. I reached over and pulled him toward me to give him a hug.

 “May I please take my hands and elbows off your mattress, sir?” he asked. I agreed, and he crawled to me and gave me a hug.

 “Corner, Mikey.” I snapped my fingers and pointed to the corner of the bedroom, and he obediently walked over and faced it. I walked up behind him and put my hand on the back of his head, gently pulling him away from it an inch or two. “Don’t get tears on that wall, or I’ll give you some more to get rid of,” I told him. “Now kneel.” Mikey dutifully got down onto one knee, then onto both. I swatted his butt with my hand and told him to kneel straight up. He did. I pulled the chair up behind him and sat there, while he kneeled in what must have been a very uncomfortable position.

 I let him hold his position in silence for a few minutes as I admired the work I’d done on his bum. The redness was real, and it was kind of hot…

I should mention at this point that, while I enjoy giving a spanking sometimes, I rarely get to do it. As much as ABDL’s are into spanking and being spanked, Mikey was right – it often does reduce the regression aspect of what we do. It’s more for the humiliation factor, I think – and that’s something not nearly enough ABDLs are into in person. As much as it sucked to see this kid cry, just knowing that he had wronged me – and especially knowing that it was important to make it up to me – having nailed this Mikey’s tail gave me a sense of real satisfaction. 

After about ten minutes Mikey raised his hand, requesting permission to speak. I hadn’t said anything about that, and thought it was adorable.

 “Yes, Mikey?”

 “This fucking hurts, bro. I mean, sir.”

 I stood up, picked up the paddle, walked over, and landed a good hard swat across his seat. I knew it wasn’t nearly as hard as the other ones, but I was sure it added to the intensity. Mikey sucked in a little breath of air and began rubbing his bottom.

 “Hands at your sides, Mikey. No swearing.”

 Mikey put his hands at his sides and drooped his head. He was crying again, and I watched him clench his butt over and over, trying to disperse the pain. Finally, he rose his hand again.

 “Yes?”

 What would come next would be a long-form confession – to so many things. Mikey told me stories about ways he’d fucked over his family when he was little. He told me about the first time he’d ever used drugs – he’d been eleven, and he’d gotten them from his mom. I heard stories about how he’d used drugs in junior high school, and stories about the family members he’d stolen money from to get more. Mikey then gave me a list of the many times he’d lied to me, confessing each individually. I could see him grow more relaxed with each story, and he apologized for each one, at one point mentioning the old adage that confession really is good for the soul.

 I sat behind him, admiring his amazing (and now rosy red) bottom and listening to him try to make everything right with words. I could tell that he was trying to buy time before what he thought would be his next swat, but it was clear that he was really benefitting from this confession time, too. 

“Sir… I want to finish this,” he finally admitted. “I don’t even know how many spankings I have left, but I know it’s a lot. But this hurts so bad. I don’t know if I can take twelve more!”

 “You can stop anytime, Michael. I’ll be disappointed, but…”

 “No, don’t do it, sir!” Mikey blurted out, interrupting me. “I’m not welshing on this, sir. Just spank me over and over until you’re done!”

 “You mean… repeatedly?”

 “Please, sir. Just give me all of them at once. I can take it. I mean, I don’t know if I can take it, but I’m going to take it. Please… please, finish me all at once, sir.”

Mikey was desperate to make it stop, but desperately trying to convince me to keep going, too. I’d never spanked anyone so hard that they’d shed real tears, and I was pretty surprised by all of this. I figured it was finally time to let Mikey in on the fact that I was done.

 “You’re done, bro,” I told him. “That’s enough.”

 Mikey turned around and looked at me with an alarmed look on his face. He started crying again – and those tears were 100% real. He shook his head and begged me to keep going.

 “If you don’t finish I’ll always feel like I owe you, sir,” he told me. “I don’t want to live with that shit on my – oh, poop.” Mikey got scared a little. “I d-d-don’t want to have to l-l-live with feeling like I ch-ch-cheated you on my conscience. Please finish, sir.”

 “No, I’m really done. As long as you’re done with the swear words,” I told him, chuckling.

 “No, sir, please finish.”

 “Seriously, Michael. I am done. You just got six, that’s all I am going to give you.”

 “Sir, please – you said at least a dozen. Please don’t stop until you’re done. I don’t want to live with feeling like I welshed on our agreement.”

 “No, Mikey, I’m seriously finished. I can find other ways to punish you.”

 “What other ways?” Mikey asked. “Because I want to finish this so bad, but I just don’t know if I can!”

 I told Mikey he’d be spending more time in the corner, and then we’d go from there. He was still sniffling, and going on about not wanting me to feel cheated.

 “Sir, anything you want me to do I will do it.”

 “What do you have in mind, Michael?”

Mikey stood on my command, but remained facing the corner for quite some time. I watched his bottom intently, half in love and half horrified by how red it still was. I was glad there was no bruising – another swat or two probably would have left some, and I wouldn’t have felt good about that. 

As he pitched his proposal to me, it became clear to me that this was something Mikey had been thinking about for a little bit. His idea of a “punishment” to make up for the missing paddle swats? “Baby time” – he would spend as much time as I wanted acting like a baby.

 “Total baby, sir. I’ll eat baby food. I’ll drink baby formula. I’ll use my diaper. Everything.”

 “Goo goo and gaga?”

 “Yes, sir!” 

I called Mikey over to me and lay back on the bed, pulling him on top of me. He curled up onto me and I put my hands on his bottom, rubbing it intently. It was still warm, though not as hot as it was mid-spank. Mikey wrapped his legs and arms around me and clutched me almost as tightly as he had in the lake earlier. It felt amazing.

 Mikey was still trembling, and I got a sense that the spanking that he’d just received was cathartic for him – it had made him confess a whole bunch of secrets to me, and had made him want to be treated like an infant, too. This was a whole different Mikey than I’d seen for most of the trip.

“I’m going to think about this,” I told Mikey.

 In truth I’d already decided, but I didn’t want to come off as being able to be bought off so easily with a promise to wear diapers.

 “May I add in something, sir?” I nodded. “You can do unlimited rituals until I leave.”

 I’d only had one left, and Mikey would be here for another few days.

 “Every single day?” I asked him, doubtfully. “As many as you want in a day,” he told me. “Unlimited means no limits, sir.”

 We had a deal.

 Mikey’s spanking ended around 9, and his corner time lasted past 10. We still hadn’t had dinner, and we were both hungry, so I diapered him and pulled him onto the floor, ordering him to crawl after me. I walked to the kitchen, pulled out a pizza from the freezer, and walked over to the oven, preheating it.

 “I want Gerber!” Mikey cried out. “Pizza’s for the big kids! Goo goo! I want Gerber!”

Mikey’s mastery of the language of ‘baby talk’ was so perfect I burst out laughing. A huge smile spread across his face, and he started laughing too. It was refreshing to see after watching him sob or sniffle for so long.

 “Gerber, Cwis! Gerber!”

 And, with that, Mikey sat on the floor, banging two pots together and murmuring baby talk while I prepared the pizza. It was adorable, and – I had to admit – actually way more fun than the paddling.

After pizza it was time for a bottle. I poured milk into a baby bottle and popped it into the microwave.

 “Moo juice! Yay, Cwis! Moo juice!”

 Once it was heated I walked over to the couch and sat down, motioning for Mikey to climb up. He was well-trained from a week of being with me, now, and climbed  right up and laid  across my lap in perfect bottle-feeding position.

I put the bottle into his mouth and, while he slurped away, rubbed his tummy. He closed his eyes and almost purred while I did. After nearly fifty minutes of smacking away the bottle was done, and his diaper was wet. I was crazy relaxed, and the smile on his face said that he was too. 

“Sing me a lullaby, Cwis!” he urged me.

 “I’m not a very good singer,” I admitted. “And I’m not sure I know a real lullaby.”

 “Hold up,” he said, sitting up. The baby talk was gone, now. “Aren’t you, like, the world’s foremost expert on babysitting adult babies?” 

“Well, I don’t know if – “

 “Aren’t you the Dr. Spock of adult babies, bro? You have a blog about it. How do you not know how to sing a lullaby?”

 “I could probably do one…”

 He lay his head back down and smiled.

 “Yay! Sing me! Sing me!”

 So I began to sing.

 “Hush little baby, don’t you cry…” Mikey looked at me, a very serious look on his face. “Cwis is gonna sing you a lullaby…”

 Mikey sat up, shaking his head. 

“That’s not how it even goes,” he interrupted. “Those aren’t even the words.”

 “Want another spanking?” I joked, looking at him sternly. He shook his head, and I put my head on his forehead, pushing him back down. I sat there, studying my memory, trying to think of words to finish the song. Then Mikey rolled over, plopping his little ass onto the floor.

 “Lay down with me, Chris. I have an idea…”

 “What?” I asked suspiciously. 

 “Just trust me and do this for me.”

 So I lay down on the floor. Mikey sat up, climbed on top of me, and lay on my chest. Then he looked into my eyes.

 “Let me babysit you tonight.”

 “Okay. Wait, what?” I asked, trying to sit up.

 Mikey stayed right on my chest, keeping me pinned down, and opened his mouth, letting spit drip onto me.

 “It’s your turn to be the baby,” he repeated. “I’ve been diapered all week. You barely even put them on, just a few times when we went swimming and at night. You need some baby time.”

 “Yea… that’s probably not going to work, bro. But I appreciate the offer.”

As I tried to explain that my trust issues keep me from being able to let other people regress me Mikey let a long string of saliva drip off his tongue. I stopped talking as I watched it come within an inch of his eye before he slurped it back into his mouth. He giggled, and then did it again. And again. And again.

 “Someone is being silly,” I said, trying to transition back to baby talk, but Mikey sat up and, in a very serious – and very grownup – voice, told me that it was my turn to get silly.

“Twust me, Baby Cwis… you’ll enjoy this.”

The spanking I’d given Mikey had been fierce, and the time he’d spent in the corner had been intense. The bottle feeding and baby talk afterwards had been cathartic – I felt like we’d bonded in the time we’d spent on the couch doing tummy rubs and a few bars of a lullaby. Could Mikey baby me? Probably not. But after this week, and that spanking, I felt like I owed him. So I sighed and nodded my head.

Mikey scampered around, gathering supplies. He brought in a diaper, powder, and wipes, and then poured milk into his bottle and put it in the microwave.

 “Feet up.” Mikey was looming over me now, and I realized he was planning to diaper me. I typically – and, actually, exclusively – put my diaper on myself. I told him that.

 “Feet up.”

 “No, seriously – I’ll just put it on. You can just hang out.”

 “Feet up.”

 I didn’t move very quickly, and Mikey pulled my feet up for me and gave me a smack across my ass. The surprised look on my face made him laugh, and before I could react he grabbed my shorts and gave them a tug. They came right off.

 “Feet up.”

 I lifted my feet, and Mikey pushed them apart and leaned over me, pushing a diaper underneath my ass. Within moments he had a baby wipe in his hand, and he very thoroughly wiped me everywhere I'd been wiping him all week. A moment later I was being powdered, and powder was being rubbed in.

 “You’re actually pretty good at this,” I said, visibly surprised.

 “I learned from the best!” he said, and I got a sense that he meant that.

 Once my diaper was snug, Mikey leaned over and put his arms around me, pulling me up to him. He swung me around on my bottom, pulling me toward the couch, and then plopped himself onto it, motioning for me to climb up. I did, resting my head in his lap, and he held out the bottle. I closed my eyes, he popped it in, and I began to slurp away.

 As I lay there, sucking on my bottle, Mikey put his fingers onto my tummy, tapping for a few moments, and then rubbing it. It was relaxing as fuck. I didn’t necessarily feel little, but I did feel – good. So. Good. And then he started singing.

 “Hush, little Cwissy, don’t say a word…”

 I opened my eyes and looked up. Mikey looked into my eyes, stopped rubbing my tummy, and put his free hand over my eyes, closing them.

 “Big bro Mikey’s gonna buy you a Mockingbird.”

 His singing was amazing. Which shouldn’t have been a surprise, since he’s an amazing singer. But damn, this lullaby was on point.

 “And if that Mockingbird won’t sing… …big bwo is gonna buy you a diamond ring.”

 I was so relaxed now that I felt like I might melt. My tummy was being stroked, a bottle held to my mouth, and an amazing ‘big bro’ – albeit half my age – was singing me a lullaby. And nailing every note.

 “And if that diamond ring turns brass… Mikey’s gonna buy you a looking glass.” 

“You know all the lines?” I asked, surprised.

 “Shhhh. And if that looking glass gets broke… …big bro is gonna buy you a big sailboat.”

I opened my eyes again, and looked at him quizzically. Those couldn’t be the actual lyrics could they? Mikey giggled and whispered “Billy goat.”

 The lullaby continued, and he did know every single line. And he sang it like a pro. We’re talking American Idol status. His voice filled the room. I seriously wanted to cry…

 As I lay there, my tummy full and with this amazing music filling my ears, I thought about the situation. Two months ago Mikey had been addicted to heroin. Two weeks ago, he had been living on the ground in the woods. Two hours ago, I’d been paddling the shit out of him while he bawled like a baby. And now he was making me feel loved and cared for, taking care of me like it came naturally to him.

“I feel like you have practice with this,” I finally said.

 “I sing a lot,” he told me.

 “The babysitting part, dummy. Diapering. Bottle feeding. Lullaby singing…”

 “Well, you know I have two younger brothers,” he said. “My mom didn’t get any better with them then she was with me.”

 “So you did all of this for them?” I asked him.

 “Well, I’m the only kid in the family who rocks…”

 It wasn’t lost on me that the kid who was a natural at taking care of others had a lifetime struggle taking care of himself.

 It was midnight before my toddler time was done. I was exhausted, and so was Mikey. We’d crawled around, played with toys, and even wrestled a little. Most of the time I was just enjoying Mikey take on the role of a caregiver, but there were times that he really made me feel little. A few times I mentioned that he could probably be an ‘abysitter’ professionally.

 “People in my community might hire you to babysit,” I told him. “You’re really good at this.”

“Is that an actual job?” he asked, seeming interested.

 “Probably not,” I told him. “But put an ad on my blog – who knows!”

 We were winding down and getting ready for bed when he reminded me that I had one of my now-unlimited rituals. 

“I’m not sure, bro – I might just go to sleep. Maybe we can just lay there or something. You can rock me to sleep…”

 But Mikey was insistent. He told me he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if he felt like I hadn’t gotten it out of the way. I reminded him that there wasn’t a limit anymore, and he told me that didn’t matter.

“You let me out of the rest of that spanking. Now you need to get what we agreed to.”

So, without further discussion, I followed Mikey into the bedroom. He lay down on the bed in his usual position, and I lay down in between his legs and started to hump. I got hard quickly – surprisingly quick, I thought, probably on account of the toddlerization I’d just experienced.

 I lay there, pumping the mattress, and it felt so good. Some of you probably know what I’m talking about: when you diaper a hot boy and are doing stuff for the first time, it feels amazing – even more amazing than usual. This was one of the most amazing feelings I’d ever had in a diaper, and I wasn’t sure if it was the babysitting or the spanking that had taken place earlier, but I knew it was one of those.

 “Put your hands under me,” Mikey blurted out.

 “Where?” I asked him. My hands were already under his stomach.

 “I’m going to wet. Put them under my diaper.”

Prior to tonight I’d avoided putting my hands on Mikey’s diaper area while I humped – I felt like he tensed up the first times that I did it, so I had decided not to do it again. Now he was asking me to. He didn’t need to ask twice. I put my hands there, cupping his groin in my hands. Within a second or two he was flooding his diaper – the wetness became noticeable right away, and felt good against my skin.  

“I know you like that,” he told me. “I thought I could help you out.”

 “Definitely like that, bro,” I told him. 

When he was done he relaxed. I kept my hands underneath him, cupping his penis, waiting to see what he would do next. He became quiet and lay there, still. I decided to put my thumbs into the leggings of his diaper, to get a better feel for the wetness – I wondered if he would object. He didn’t, so I rubbed him for a little bit. I felt him get  hard, and he moved his body around, trying to get comfortable.

As I lay there, humping the mattress, I pushed my chin into the crack of his ass, giving him a “diaper wedgie” – his words – and rubbing the front of his diaper with my fingers. That went on for more than twenty minutes. I heard Mikey moaning quietly, in between deep, heavy breaths. After a few more minutes he started moving his bottom up and down, pushing the front of his diaper against my hands. It was dark, the only light coming from the next room, but I could see the outline of that amazing bottom being pushed up into my face, and every time he raised it I got a little harder. I was just a minute or two away from coming, and I wondered if he was going to come too. And then, out of the blue:

 “Cwis. I need to take a shower.”

 I stopped.

Instantly went soft.

What. The. Fuck.

 “Mikey – I can finish first, right?”

 “No, Cwis. I need a shower. Now.”

 This kid couldn’t be serious.

 “Why right this minute?” I asked him.

He could tell that I was irritated, but he was already moving, trying to get up, so I rolled off of him as he gave me some excuse about not wanting to wear a wet diaper against an uncircumcised penis. Within seconds his diaper was on the ground and he was in the shower, water running.

 And that’s when it hit me. For all of the times I’d jerked off over the past week or so – at least four, according to my count – I hadn’t seen Mikey masturbate at all. In fact, he made it a point to try to stay soft while I humped. Tonight had been weird for both of us. It was an amazing hour or so cuddling in the lake, one severe bare-bottom spanking, and hours of ‘baby time’. And then, some seriously hot diaper sex.

 I realized that Mikey was about to come – and he didn’t want to do it in front of me.

 I couldn’t blame him, I guess. He was straight, after all. I’d pushed this about as far as it could be pushed – as had he – but at the end of the day he needed to be able to move on to his next destination with his masculinity intact. 

“Don’t be mad, you know I love you big little bro! Or little big bro! Or – you know,” Mikey called out playfully.

 I was annoyed, but as he did whatever he was doing in there I turned over and lay there, thinking about the day. Did I really have any right to complain? I’d just had one of the hottest – and best – days of my life.

 By the time Mikey turned the water off and came back out he had his underwear on. I could tell that he wasn’t feeling little anymore – ejaculating in the shower will do that to you.

 “Do you want me to go out so you can finish?” he asked me. I thought about that for a second. And then I decided against it.

 “I don’t need to finish. I just want you to rock me to sleep, if you’re cool with that.”

 “Fuck yea, little big bro,” he said, smiling. “I got you.” And he lay down next to me, inches his way over, and started to rock. As he did, he put an arm over me, and pushed me until I was sort of rocking along with him.

“Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop… …when the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall… …and down will come Cwissy, cradle and all!”

[CWIS'S NOTE] I started writing the ‘Mikey & Me’ series in 2011. I wrapped it up in 2016.

Why did it take me five years to finish this? Mikey is one of my best friends. And after the two weeks we spent together during the summer of 2011, our friendship was intensified exponentially. Mikey took to calling me his ‘big brother’, and our contact was daily for a long, long time.

The night after the story above, he begged me to let me come to Florida with me. He told me that I brought out the best of him. He didn’t want the ‘unlimited rituals’ to continue forever, but he was willing to rock a diaper from time to time, split the rent, and cover his own expenses. He’d lived in Orlando before, and thought that he could do it now that he knew me better and knew the kind of influence I’d be in his life. But I wasn’t set up to have a roommate at the moment - I'd just signed a lease on a studio apartment. I told him I’d consider it when my lease was up. So, instead I put him on the bus – he’d been invited to stay with another musician, and perhaps even tour with that person’s band, and I thought making music might  be good for him, and told him that.

Mikey had told me he was worried that the person he’d be staying with – an ex-addict – would relapse, and take him down with him. In the end, that’s exactly what happened. And it only took a few weeks. Mikey had spent more than two weeks with me, completely substance-free. After two weeks at his next destination he began calling me asking for financial help - little "loans" here and there - and I started to figure out what was up, no matter how many times he denied it. Then I called his phone and the owner of the pawn shop he’d pawned it to answered. To say that I was devastated would be an understatement.

In the four years since, Mikey has moved several times, battling heroin addiction and homelessness. He has called me from his car when he was living in it, and has called me from the park bench he was sleeping on. I cut him off financially the same summer he visited me, but a year ago I did pay for his plane ticket to move to the state he lives in now. I’m happy to report that he’s doing well – engaged with a baby on the way, working hard, going to college, substance-free for more than a year, and working on music again.

 During the times that he’s been doing well I sit down to write the next installment of the story, and it comes easy to me. During the times he’s addicted, or just straight up missing, it’s hard to even think about it, much less write the story for my blog. 

This was one of the best weeks I’ve ever had. If I could do it over and over I would. But that’s not practical, for a lot of reasons, the least of which is the fact that Mikey isn’t really ABDL. My ABDL goal now is to find a Mikey – perhaps a gay/ABDL version – and make a life with them. I would kill to have another two weeks like this. I once thought that a serious relationship wasn’t for me, but two weeks with a straight, non-ABDL diaperboy was enough to wake me up to the reality. Thanks for letting me share the story, and being so patient as I struggled to write it. 

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