Bundled Up

Chapter 1
Bundled up

A wipe wicked the last vestiges of moisture from my skin. I felt drowsy, blinking sleepily, up at her face.

Embarrassment had left my life a while ago, and I was used to the routine. Waking from a mid-afternoon nap simply required a diaper change. Most activities did in fact, either after or in anticipation beforehand. The potty in the corner was for show only, we’d stopped a long time ago pretending like I could make it. Now it was literally collecting dust and cobwebs, sitting out uselessly, mocking me.

She hummed softly, a Christmas tune, I thought. My room wasn’t particularly decorated for the holidays yet. It was the first time I was gonna celebrate them waking up in this room, instead of our formerly shared one. There was a sock though, hanging off the side of the bars installed on my twin size bed, filled each morning with a new gift. I was bobbing todays currently, tutting a green pacifier against the roof of my mouth. It wasn’t my favourite one, but it’d do for today. I’d feel bad if I didn’t give it a try over my usual favourite yellow ducky one.

Or worse my thumb.

I sighed, shifting my hands to rest on my stomach, stretching and curling my toes in pleasure as she spread a thick layer baby oil over my groin. She knew I liked it, and kept it short, quickening her hum.  She tucked on my legs, setting the soles of my feet on the table, and made me lift up my backside, as she settled a new thickly padded diaper beneath me. I rested back, and she dusted a layer of sweetly scented powder against my backside, before tugging my legs straight to dust my groin, ghosting her fingers over the fine, shifting layer as it settled against my oily skin, protecting my sensitive areas.

It was trial and error for a while at the beginning, inhibited by my self-reliance and reluctance for any childish products, until I had a rash that lasted for two full weeks. Since then, she did whatever she thought she needed. Just like the topical cream she spread between my cheeks and under my taint now for the finishing touch. I wasn’t gonna argue these things again, I’d be the only one paying the price. They would just shut off the baby monitor to ignore my pain ridden wails and the pawing of my mittened hands.

Expecting the thing to happen being the warmth and familiar comfort of the crinkly cotton of the front flap of my new diaper, I was confused for a second when I saw her take out something else. I looked up curiously more than in protest, but she was well used to ignoring me at this point. Booster pad liners.

Curious.

We must be going out today.

She added the liners to the already absorbent underside of the diaper, bulking it’s polymers evermore, before tucking the front finally and expectedly against my groin, tightening the 3 tabs on either side taught over the soft spot above my navel.  Next, she guided my feet through a pair of cuffs, before dragging a crinkly pair of translucent plastic pants up the length of my legs. Stopping at my thighs, she rightly didn’t trust my balance to stand on one foot at a time to dress me, she dragged another layer up, this time a layer of cotton panties, decorated with elf motifs on the front, and Christmas tree like ruffles on the backside.

Clearly, she was in a festive mood.

The skin on my stomach above my navel and the waistband of the diaper was pimpling from the coolness of the room and my state of undress.

I wanted to be clothed and let up now.

Humming a new holiday tune, she turned back to a bundle of clothes on the bed, and dragged out a newly familiar pair of long sleeved sleepers. It was my morning gift on December 1st and I’d spent the whole day in them. As she brought them near me, I inhaled the strong scent of detergent and fabric softener that clung to them, fresh from the dryer no doubt. She too guided those up to the bundle on my thighs, wiggling my feet and toes completely into the attached socks.

She gripped my hands tenderly, and used them to tuck me up into a seated position, wiggling me forward to seat me at the edge of the table.

She reached for yet another garment. My manhood twitched on instinct against the absorbent liners she added earlier to the diaper encasing it now, and wondered idly where we were going with this many layers.

”Arms up.” She practically sang, leaving my hands stretched up over my head, where she guiding each individually into an armhole, before guiding the rest of the t-shirt down. She helped me slide off the table finally, but carefully, mindful that my thighs were still suspending a bulk of layers. She set about, tucking at the first layers, the plastic pants, settling them high under the t-shirt, over the waistband of the diaper. Then the cotton panties. I vaguely felt her shift a hand across my backside, playing for a second with the ruffles back there.

Then she knelt, and I confusedly realised my mistake. Oh not t-shirt, it was a bodysuit I was wearing on my top. Leaning my hands on her shoulders, she quickly fastened the bottom buttons under my bundled groin over top of the layers settled there. With my arms and chest finally covered I warmed up, though felt a little bulky and clammy already in my butt and groin region.

I stood uncertainly on my feet on a good day, and the added bulk today between my legs certainly wasn’t helping my balance.

Don’t think she noticed though. She bent over again and lifted the sleeper up, and I danced a little uncertainly as she tucked it up. She helped my arms in from the front, before moving behind me. The fabric went taught over my stomach as she zipped up the back, groaning against the thick layers encasing my lower front, backside and stomach.

I felt her fingers knead through my bowl cut hair, no doubt tousled as usual from my nap, before she guided my chin to look in my eyes.

”Awake are we?” Her eyes glinted. ”Good, stay here for a second.”

I barely had time to register her turning away and back to me again before a colourful sweater was shoved into my vision. It was the kind of ugly Christmas sweater I used to adore wearing to drunken corporate Christmas parties. But it was still too far from Christmas for those parties, too early in the day too.

As if I would even be invited anymore.

It was the kind of sweater that made the wearer look like an elf, and at the bottom was a stitched writing that read, ”Mommy’s stinky elf”. I felt stinging in the corners of my eyes, but I wasn’t really sure of why. She beamed at this, thinking I loved it no doubt, and began to guide my arms up again and into the sleeves.

”Eric found it online, and I just knew we had to get it for you.” she chattered enthusiastically. I sniffled emphatically in return, suckling harder on my festive pacifier on instinct, that I had just been resting in my mouth during the whole dressing.

”Almost done”, she added, before she steadfastly found my hand and began tucking me along with her. When we reached the stairs, she opened the combination lock safety gate, and walked down in front of me, as I more carefully than ever, sidestepped my way down, both hands gripping the banister, with her hand heavily set against me back and shoulder, supporting my slow descent. The grips on the soles of the sleeper were a blessing, but the bulk around my diaper area made it difficult to step down and bring my legs anywhere near each other. I paused when I almost stumbled and missed a step, and she shifted her hands to support my hips instead, mumbling affirmations for each one I made successfully. An image of skipping down stairs, or thundering up them briefly flashed in my mind. It’d been a long time since walking the staircase had been brief, solitary nor a non-momentous occasion taking less then 5 minutes at the least, and not deserving of praise for the effort.

Finally, at the bottom, I saw a snowsuit, colourfully decked in red and green, and large enough for me, spread out open in the hallway. I was guided over to it, before helped to sit down on the seat of the suit. My legs were guided into it first, before she tucked the back of it up and helped my arms into it much like a normal jacket. She zipped the front of it, before retreating to my splayed legs, where she tucked a thick woollen pair of knitted socks over the footed pyjama socks, that barely stuck out the ends.

”So close now” she reassured, as she produced a matching hat and mittens, which she placed first on my head, and then on my hands, barely sticking out from the snowsuit.

”There! All done, now where is…” She pondered, turning about, when Eric, came into my barely visible view, with the lip of the snowsuit covering even the bobbing dummy in my mouth, and the hat sitting low over my brow.

”Need a little help?” Eric’s deep baritone hummed, as he held out a hand to my wife, kneeling by me.

”Yes! Could you take him to the car, I need to get my jacket on, and grab his diaper bag and things.”

”Sure, I’ll get him strapped into his car seat.”

”Great, don’t forgot his stroller though.”

”I won’t” he eye rolled good-naturedly at her vanishing down the hall.

”Let’s go big guy.” Eric said, as he hauled me upwards.

He was taller than me by a few good inches, and with his muscular bulk against my immature and snow-suited one, he easily got me standing. I swayed, feeling hot, and unsecure in my footing. The new layer of socks didn’t grip the floor, and I was even more bulked up on my posterior and between my legs with the snowsuit.

He glanced down, noticing obviously.

Next thing I knew, he was hauling me up, lifting me princess style in his arms, and walking in the direction of the garage. I was set down in the anticipating car seat, as my new daddy gripped the belts that strapped me in and began methodically securing me in the seat.

He patted the central belt buckle resting on my groin when he finished, and it drew my attention there. A spurt of warm pee burst as if in greeting to his pat, and saturated the first liner that rested against my little manhood. I shuttered, closing my eyes and opening them rapidly to see recognition in his.

He’d seen me wet myself an innumerable number of times by now.

”Sorry bud, just got you suited up and buckled in.” He said sympathetically. He reached up a hand and grabbed the tip of my dummy before bobbing it rhythmically, instigating my oral reflexes. My penis spurted a few more inconsistent times, but the dummy soothed me, just like he expected.

”There you are.”

I hated how well he knew me.

I hated how much the pacifier soothed my nerves as he bopped it.

I hated how my instant response to the warmth, and comfort; to the eye contact and softly spoken murmurs, and most importantly the wetting; the pleasurable feeling of emptying my bladder; of the warm wet and soft liner sitting taught against me; pressed in place by the layers and the car seat; instigated blood rushing to my member. 

”No tears okay? We’ll be there soon enough, and I’ll let mommy know to change ya,” his eyes fluttered down to my bulky buckled in groin. ”… hope the oil n’ powder will last until then.” He gave another empathetic pat, and I felt the contents slosh slightly inside, my penis bobbing and straining against the confines relishing at the attention.

The car door closed, and he went around the back to pack my oversized stroller, and the diaper bag my wife just set down, before she climbed into the front seat.

”There we go,” Eric slammed the back of the car, before moving to the driver’s seat. ”Ready to go and cut down our first tree together, Honey?” He then leaned over the console and kissed my wife deeply while the garage doors took their sweet time to open, me watching in the back, blushing, a line of drool escaping as I bobbed my pacifier, with an embarrassing hard-on straining against my wetted diaper.

Author notes

If I reach enough 10 comments, I'll put together at little something for new years :)