Product Tester Ch3

Chapter 4
Real Testing

Chapter 4

Something hard was pushing on my back. Suddenly I realized I backed into the wall and was pressing as hard as I could against it.

Two pairs of female eyes were boring into me. My wife’s had a solid look. A reddening face surrounded the other pair.

"Carol, it really is not necessary. My customer’s babies will test these. Parents that buy the first ones offered know there may be a time they get sent back."

Nancy was doing her level best to get me off the hook.

She had a large cheering section...if you count me as large.

The other "team" was not so easily swayed from the contest.

"How many diapers did you bring with you tonight, Nancy?" inquired my wife. Her tone was different. She was up to something.

Nancy was getting that idea as well.

"Thirteen, why?" she countered.

"And did you have enough of the stuffing stuff to make them all functional?" asked Carol next.

"I think so, yes. Why are you asking this, Carol?" Nancy was getting a concerned look on her face.

Jumping up from the couch, my wife pulled me back into the guestroom with a quick apology to Nancy. Before I knew what was happening, Carol had pulled the snaps open and removed the diaper I had been wearing. She sat back on her haunches and looked at me, holding the infantile garment in her hand.

"I want you to buy the diapers Nancy brought over tonight," she said, just as calmly as if she was telling me I was going to buy a newspaper.

"You have GOT to be kidding," I retorted. I began to pace, almost afraid to look into her face. There I stood, totally naked, attempting to talk sense into lunatic wife.

Things were getting out of hand.

"You said you would help my client, right."

I paused, breathing a bit faster than I wanted to be at that moment.

"Yes. Yes I did."

"She needs to get a full testing from the right sized person in order to make sure they work like they are supposed to, right?"

"I may be the right size but I am not the right person. I am not going wet myself like an infant no matter HOW young my body is."

We stared at each other for a moment.

I crossed my arms over my chest. I knew from looking in the mirror that this pose looked totally silly. I looked like a brat throwing a tantrum. Especially when naked. I dropped my arms to my sides again.

Carol took this as a partial surrender.

She dropped the diaper back on the floor and pointed to it.

"Lay down, my little hubby."

I kept a very watchful eye on her as I walked over, straddled the fabric and sat on it. As I lay back, she pulled it up between my legs and fastened the snaps at both sides.

I rolled over onto my belly and maneuvered myself to a standing position. Carol got up as well, but before I could make my way to the door leading to the TV room she steered me into the guest bathroom. Her hand on my shoulder led me to stand in front of the toilet.

"Oops, I almost forgot," she said as she pulled the stool from beside the commode and set it in front of the bowl. She took my hand and helped me stand facing it.

I looked up with a rather helpless expression on my face.

"You do have to pee right now, right?" she asked.

I knew that if I lied at that moment she would see right through it. I knew I was going to have to go along with her questioning.

"Yeah," I muttered.

She sighed just a little and then stepped back.

"Go then."

"I can’t piss like this, honey. Please. Not with this on..." I was letting my frustration be seen.

"When you use the toilet, you stand on a stool, right?"

"Uh huh." I slowly answered.

"Then you face the toilet and you pee in the bowl. Am I correct still?"

This was bad. I still had to stick with honest answers because she KNEW the answers.

"Um yes dear," I was trying the snippy answer tact. Let’s see where that leads.

"And if you were not wearing anything, you could go right now and it would just go right into the water there. Have I said anything that is not true?"

She was not responding to my snippy answer so I tried a defeated sounding answer.

*SIGH* "No honey. You are right."

"So just don’t think about what you are wearing and just aim for the bowl in your mind," she said, her voice beginning to have that "coach’s" sound to it.

"The only difference," she continued, "is to any other time you go potty...I mean, any time you pee is that there just happens to be some fabric between you and the toilet. Only difference."

She looked like she was pleased with herself for arriving at that argument.

I know why she was happy, It’s because it was a good argument. Standing there, all the stimuli I had reacted to since I got OUT of diapers as a child were beginning to work on me.

I was standing in front of a toilet, with an honest urge to relieve myself.

My body wanted release. My mind was holding it back.

Carol got right next to me and began to softly whisper in my ear, "You said you wanted to help my client. That was so sweet. I love you. You are still my handsome hubby, no matter what you wear. Help Nancy out in this, please? Pretty please?"

Then she smiled. That was not playing fair.

I looked deeply into those lovely eyes...and waited. I knew in my heart of hearts that I was making a mess on the floor right then.

It never happened.

As I stood and let my bladder empty, every drop disappeared into the padding between my legs. It seemed to me that gallons flowed from my body. It seemed that nothing could hold all the fluids I released.

Not a drop leaked.

I stood by the toilet and didn’t move. I did not want to admit what I had just done. Something inside me still thought I would get in trouble.

I held Carol’s gaze. I had never been so in love with her as that moment. Slowly I stepped off the stool and sat down on it.

The bulky fabric now squished slightly. Not an uncomfortable feeling, just VERY different. Carol and I began to talk.

Five minutes later we walked out of the guest room hand-in-hand. Nancy had a quizzical look on her face. My wife spoke for both of us.

"Nancy, we want to buy the entire lot of what you brought over here this evening. Don’t we Grant?"

I nodded a rather silly grin on my face. How does one tell a fellow adult they want to pee in the diapers they make?

It struck me as an oddly humorous moment. "Hey Nancy," I was thinking to myself, "how about if I just keep all the diapers you brought and pee in them. Really soak them and see if I can make them leak. Put your product to the test."

That is what I was agreeing to. How odd.

Nancy kept her cool, although I could tell she was about to burst with happiness and relief. She busied herself with the remaining items she wanted to have pictures take with me wearing.

This I had not considered.

I had to force myself to say what came out of my mouth next.

"Hey, um, Nancy. I already kinda started testing the one I have on now."

There was a look that crossed between the two women that kept me active the entire evening. It was one of those "women’s" looks.

I hate those.

Nancy put on her most professional looking expression and said quietly, "Do you want to keep testing those and stop doing pictures, or would you want Carol to change you and we will finish these last diapers?"

I saw my chance to get the evening over with.

"I think I will just pee a few more times in these. Give them a real workout."

"Wet them," they said in unison and then the both giggled.

Nancy continued, "when a baby "pees" we call it wetting. You wet your diaper and you would prefer to wet a few more times before you take it off, right."

Gag. Put that way it sounded like I had no self-control at all.

"That diaper should be able to hold at least four wettings," she was talking to Carol now. "Once he does that or before he goes to bed, just put him in this diaper," she held up a THICK green item, "and he should not have to be changed until probably noon tomorrow."

Noon?

"Now wait a minute. How much time do you think I am going to be spending wearing...these?"

This was getting out of hand. I would "wet" a few times in each of the garments she had brought, but I had no intention of living in them.

"Well," said my wife, " three diapers a day and there are over a dozen, so it looks like you have over half a week ahead of going potty in your dydies, honey."

I must have been sulking because both women were looking at me with obvious concern. My wife got down on her knees and put an arm around my small shoulders.

"Look. Grant, honey, this will only be for four days. Once each style has been tested these will be ready for Nancy to put out for sale. Four days, and then you will be done."

My mind was racing by this point. I stood next to my kneeling wife. It was almost like she was begging. A glance at Nancy told me she WAS begging.

Everything inside me was screaming for me to tell them "No". All that I had worked to achieve despite my illness demanded I turn them down. Every little bone in my body ached to be allowed back to the life I had known before Carol had told me about Nancy’s business plan.

There was not a chance in the world that I was going to agree something as outlandish and foreign as wearing diapers for four days.

"Sure," I heard myself saying, "it’s only for a few days. I can do it."

Three mouths dropped open. Mine included. What in hell was I doing?

After expressing heartfelt thanks to me, the ladies began an animated conversation that I was not part of. Instructions and details of what each style and design was like, how it worked and how to use them.

I slowly dressed in my sweats and went to my office. The wet bulk between my legs made me walk with a bowlegged waddle. I just needed to get back to something "normal".

Some time in a chatroom, where a webcam would reveal I was a 19 month-old in diapers.

I needed to escape, in more ways than one.

***

Four days later....

The alarm went off next to my desk. A quick glance confirmed it was two o’clock. Time to walk over to Nancy’s and get changed into the last diaper of the test. I would be in it until about 9:00.

And then freedom.

I couldn’t wait.

I had been looking at the website that had caused all the problems. My pictures had been posted and orders were picking up. The response had been excellent.

Out the back door and across the yard, I headed for the gate. The design I currently wore, the one Carol had fastened on me that morning before she left, had not done very well.

By noon it had already begun to leak. I had been drinking plenty of water and most of Nancy’s diapers had held very well.

Some not so well.

Now there were two large wet spots on my sweatpants legs where the last "wetting" had burst the dam and leaked. I carried a spare pair of pants, as I did not want to be cold on the way back, like I was now.

After Carol had come home the first day at 2:00 to change me, we had decided that her coming home was too much of an interruption.

Did I say "we"? Silly me. She was the one that said. She told me this and just sat there, looking at me, waiting for me to have a solution.

Finally I told her I would just have the neighbor change me. School was not out at that time of day, so the only other person at home with Nancy was the baby.

The first time I lay down and had this "strange woman" change my diaper I could have died. Scary thing is...I was getting used to it.

As soon as I slid the glass door to the basement open, I knew that something was wrong.

There were voices I did not recognize. I stopped and listened to them, trying to understand what was going on. Nancy was talking to a man and a woman in hushed but animated tones. The sounds drifted down from the upstairs.

I think I must have looked like a frightened rabbit. I was in a diaper, a wet diaper. A LEAKING diaper. And there were strangers here.

I wanted to run, but I needed to get changed.

How weird was THAT? I was trying to control myself because I wanted to have a diaper change.

"Nancy?" I called.

The talking stopped and Nancy came bustling into the family room.

"Oh Grant, I am so glad you are here. There are some people that I want you to meet," she quickly rattled of as she took me by the hand and pulled me up the stairs.

"This is Mr. Jensen, my tester," she said.

I looked up. Sitting on the couch, sipping coffee, was a man and a woman. Both were in their early 40’s and were dressed in stylish business suits. They smiled and nodded.

I was not smiling. I was standing in front of complete strangers wearing a diaper that was leaking out both legs. What was I going to do?

Nothing. I just stood there and said hello. Like doofball.

"Grant, these people are from Customer Testing Labs. They called me about new pictures on my website and asked about how I got the poses you did. They want to talk to you about testing all kinds of other baby products."

For the first time I dragged my eyes off the faces on the couch and looked at all the items laid out on hearth, tables and floor.

Spread out at my feet and all over were cloth diapers, disposables, baby clothing and accessories.

Bibs, sleepers and overalls.

Bottles, baby spoons and pacifiers.

I looked slowly up to the sharply dressed pair. I could not think of a single word to say.

The woman spoke first. "Mr. Jensen, we are prepared to offer you a contract to test these and other products."

I whimpered. "Four...days....." I muttered.

"Oh no, Mr. Jensen," spoke the man, "we want to hire you for a year."

I heard the collective gasp as I fainted.

The End.... or just the beginning?

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