Skye climbed the steps, holding out her arms for me. “Come here, baby.” She whispered in a gentle mother’s coo. The moment my eyes fell on her, I blocked out the crowd, the stage, the creepy clown and even creepier snake. My world shrank to the loving refuge of those blue eyes and the heavy smelly mush pulling my diaper down.
I reached for Skye as my vision blurred. I took a few shaky steps forward to my haven, Skye’s waiting arms. My diaper swung heavily with each movement of my hips. My mess shifted, slipping and sliding all over the inside of my diaper. Tears trickled down my cheeks and my legs wobbled. Disgusting. I was so disgusting. Helplessly messing myself like a big...baby. I whimpered then I felt Skye’s arms around me.
“Shh. It’s okay, baby.” She kissed my forehead, one of her hands prodding at my padded rear. The poopy lumps smushed even more under her pokes and pats. A strangled sob tore its way out of my throat as my legs fully buckled. She caught me, enveloping me in her embrace. I buried my face in her shoulder, hiding from the world.
A pressure settled on my poop-coated, thickly padded behind, another bar of pressure behind my back then I felt my feet leave the ground. I barely noticed, drowning in fecal covered shame. How could I have done this, and up on stage, too? Peeing was one thing, but pooping? And I’d never felt it coming.
“Let it out, Gavi-poo. It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Skye said, so calm and reassuring. Like it really was alright for me to helplessly soil myself. I heard the clunk of her heels on the wooden stage and felt myself moving. Almost like she was carrying me.
“I’ll get you all cleaned up and in a fresh diapee.” Skye hummed a soft lullabye. Her hand on my back rubbed little soothing circles in rhythm with her humming. Occasionally she patted my bottom, and I felt the huge load shift and squish with each touch. I whimpered, tears trickling down my cheeks and splashing onto her neck and shoulder. I just wanted out of this horrible mess.
“Sweetie. It’s okay. It was just a little poopies.” Skye said sympathetically. Her hand left my back then I felt a tug on the waistband of my diaper. Air rushed over my feces encrusted butt; I felt the suction of my mess pulling apart like sticky mud as Skye pulled back my diaper and peered down. “Oh dear. You really gave that diaper a workout. Let’s get you changed before that thing explodes.”
The surprise and worry in her tone took me by surprise. What was wrong? I wanted her humming, her reassurance back. Just a little mess, right? All I needed was a new diapee. No problem. Just a little diaper change. Happened all the time, right? But not to big boys. Not to me. Except it had happened to me. Was I still a big boy? I sobbed softly. I wanted to voice all these thoughts but they knotted up in my throat, choking me in emotions. All I could do was cling to Skye.
“Shhh. It’s okay, baby. I got you. We’re almost there.” She kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back some more. She didn’t pat my bottom anymore and her pace quickened. I heard voices of the crowd around us, but it was just a buzzing in my ears, background noise. White noise I barely noticed.
My face stayed buried in her shoulder as she hurried along while trying to soothe me. The background noise of the open air, animals, and people faded suddenly as Skye stepped through a door. The smell of pee, poop, and baby powder dominated the air and her heels clicked off tiled floor, echoing off walls.
“Here we are!” Skye cheered enthusiastically. I suddenly found myself pulled from her embrace. I whimpered in protest of the loss of contact. I wanted her warmth, her soft skin, her arms around me, shielding me from the world and the horror I put into my own diaper. She tried to soothe me with a kiss, her soft lips getting wet from the tears on my cheeks.
At the touch of the soft plastic padding of a changing table on my back, I opened my watery eyes to see Skye smiling down at me. I felt a tug on my waist as she secured the safety strap. We were in a changing room. I vaguely registered the background noise of babies crying and shrieking.
“Let’s take care of that icky poo-poo diaper, Gavi-poo.” Skye chuckled. I wanted to blush, to holler in protest, but words clogged in my throat. My insides were a storm of turbulent emotions, drowning me. I was sensitive, vulnerable, exposed and raw. Her teasing joke was like salt rubbed into a wound, and all I could do was let out a strangled sob in protest.
My lower lip trembled. I could feel the dam inside me ready to burst then I’d lose what little shreds of dignity I still had left. I bit down on my lip, my thumb pressing into it. I wanted to shove my thumb in my mouth and suck, shut my eyes and shut out the world and hide. I jerked my thumb away, smacking it down onto the changing table’s padding. My legs lifted into the air and I peeked up at Skye. She just looked down at me with a little smile then went to work cleaning me up. Cold wipe after cold wipe brushed over my butt, removing hand full after hand full of my mess. My own stench melded perfectly with that of the other dirty diapers. Slowly, wipe after wipe after wipe, Skye worked her way from my back end to my front then from my front to my back, leaving no cranny or crevice of my diaper area unwiped. Not a crotch, but a diaper area. My diaper area that had been covered in my poopies.
I winced at the thought while Skye moved my legs and pelvis around, double checking to make sure she’d gotten all of that mess. I even felt the cool, wet tip of a finger wrapped in a baby wipe poking at the puckered crevice of my butt, dipping into my back door briefly. I gasped, sucking in air, my chest trembling and tight with swirling emotions.
I opened my mouth to try and talk but all that escaped was a painful wheeze and strangled squeak of a sob. Done wiping me, I heard the familiar crinkle and flap of her opening a new diaper, then my bottom was lifted higher as she slid the fresh diaper under me. Salvation! No more poopy diaper! I should have been happy, or at the very least relieved to be out of that mess. Part of me was. Another part still burned in shame at having messed in the first place.
“Shhh.” Skye started humming again as she worked, rubbing baby powder into each clean cheek, my buttcrack, coating each of my balls and all over my penis and surrounding skin. The she sprinkled some on my lower belly, rubbing little circles on my tummy. I could feel the love in her touch, the reassurance in her humming tone, but even that couldn’t reach me. My emotions had curled up into a little fetal ball. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I trembled as I lay there.
“Almost done baby. Poopies all gone!” Skye chirped, trying to cheer me up as she brought the front of the diaper up between my legs, positioned it, then deftly secured the tapes like an old pro. How was she so good at this? Just from my diaper changes today?
“Gavin. It’s okay.” Skye soothed, rubbing the front of my diaper. Her fingers pressed on the tapes securing me into my padded potty. I didn’t look at her. She leaned down to press a soft kiss to my belly, right above my diaper. Surely she could feel me trembling beneath her lips. Then she pulled my shirt down and unfastened the safety strap.
I was crying, despite all my willpower as Skye guided me off of the large padded table to my feet. In my blurry, tear streaked periphery, I saw another woman carrying a screaming toddler in just his diaper- one that matched my own...my second one of the day…-and lay him on the padded surface to begin changing him. She was decidedly non-judgemental about wiping her son’s ass immediately after witnessing a grown man go through a similar treatment.
Skye pulled me away onto a nearby backless bench, and pulled me into her lap as I huffed and puffed my way to a temper tantrum. My diaper-my fresh, clean, dry diaper- rustled as I shifted my weight onto the soft material of her skirt. Her legs felt firmer and fitter than my own just then.
Good. Even though she was taller than me, biology gave me more than a few pounds on her. Any other time, I would have been conscious of her over myself. I would have been thinking about how I must be crushing her legs and that they’d be losing circulation within a minute. Normally, I’d be thinking about how after lugging my useless ass through crowds of people to find a place to clean me up after I’d publicly humiliated myself, but right then, I couldn’t.
I was stuck in the moment. The awful, awful moment. It was like every embarrassing nightmare I’d ever had rolled into one and multiplied by a factor of three. I had been at the head of the class, about to give my oral report that will determine fifty percent of my grade, and then I’d look down and realize that I was naked. Only naked would have been preferable to what had actually happened. I’d never shit myself in front of the whole class in my dreams.
“Gavi-poo?” Skye whispered to me, rubbing my back tenderly, while busy mothers came in and out to change their crying charges. “Is everything okay? Are you alright.” I just kept heaving with each breath, my shoulders bobbing up and down uncontrollably. No words would come. “Gavin, baby. Say something to me.”
That’s when the gates burst inside of me, and I don’t mean my bladder or my bowels.
“I’M SORRY!” I turned around and bawled into Skye’s shoulder. “I’M SORRY! I’M SOOOOOO SORRRRRY!” I couldn’t control my emotions, and only short, gasping sentences would come to my lips. “I...hyuk...DIDN’T...hyuk...MEAN...hya..TOOOOOOO!” The smell of freshly applied baby powder invaded my nose. It was probably me that I was smelling, which made things all the worse. I hadn’t needed baby powder earlier today. I hadn’t needed diapers today, either, but as of less than ten minutes ago, I had.
Skye’s skin pressed tightly to my own as she embraced me and hugged me harder and harder with each sob. I was riding pony style on her knee while I cried into her shoulder, her beautiful blonde, pink, and teal hair covering my shame as I cried freely.
“I’M SOOOOO….hyuh...SORRRRRYYY...hyeee...I DIDN’T MEAN TO...hyuh hyuh...EMBARASS YOUUUUUUU!”
“Shhhhhh” Skye rubbed my back and bounced me on her knee, trying to soothe me. “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. I’m fine.” she whispered. “You didn’t embarrass me at all.” But the truth was, I wasn’t apologizing to Skye. I hadn’t really been talking to Skye right then. I’d been talking to myself.
“You did nothing wrong,” Skye assured me, still jiggling me lightly on her knee. “You had a diaper emergency, and like a good mommy, I took care of it.” There was that word again. Mommy. Why that word?
“Mommy?” I sniffled, pulling back and looking at Skye so I could look her in the eyes. This time it was her turn to look slightly teary eyed. Only she was smiling instead of bawling.
“Yeah, baby?” She responded, her breath becoming shallow, a look of anticipation in her eyes.
“No,” I shook my head. “I mean, why did you say it like that? Why like a good mommy?”
Skye shrugged noncommittally. The anticipation and satisfaction dashed from her eyes.
“How many girlfriends do you know who wipe their boyfriend’s butts?” she replied, her voice back to a calm casual matter of fact tone. “It wasn’t very girlfriend like.”
“Yeah,” I conceded. “I guess it wasn’t.” And somewhere in the depths of me, I pondered the question of whether that was a good thing or not. “Promise you won’t make fun of me for this later?” I sniffled, wiping a string of snot from my nose.
“Gavi-kins,” she giggled as if I had just asked the silliest question in the world. “I’ll never make fun of you, I promise.” And she drew me in and hugged me for the first time all over again. For an instant we were back in time. Me crying in her arms, her offering me quiet comfort. Only this time she wasn’t in the wrong. I was. Yet it still ended the same way. Skye never needed comfort. She just gave it.
Another piercing scream echoing off of the concrete walls of the changing area ruined an otherwise perfect moment for me. An older woman, with red hair up in a bun and flecks of gray trudged in dragging along a little red headed freckle-faced boy, maybe three-years old at most. Even in black slacks, the dark stain on the front of his pants gave away what had happened to him.
“MOMMY! MOMMY! NOOOOOOOO!” the carrot top screamed. “PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS TO ME! PLEEEEEASE!” his voice was raggedly becoming scratchy and hoarse from yelling. He must have been screaming all the way.
Mommy? Mommy? That seemed unlikely. The lady dragging the screaming toddler behind her was almost as old as my own mother. Granny, maybe? But Mommy? Adoptions happened, sure, but if this was his biological mother, he must be her miracle baby or something.
“PLEEEASE MOMMY!” the little ginger boy screeched, digging his heels in all the way to the changing table across from the bench where we were sitting. “I’M BIG! I’M A BIG BOY! I’LL BE GOOD! I’LL BE A GOOD BOY!”
Her face filled with consternation, the older woman lifted the little pre-schooler up onto the changing table and shoved him down before pulling the strap across his chest.
“You had your chance to be a good boy plenty of times already, Tyler.” The greying woman proclaimed staring daggers at what seemed to be her son. “But you’ve proven that to be a lie too many times to count. And I gave you a chance to prove that you were a big boy,” she gestured to his wet pants, so similar to mine only a few hours ago. “And look what you did with that opportunity?!” Tyler fell silent, cowed by his middle aged mom.
Tyler’s mom reached into her clunky, puffy gift bag and took out a bottle of “Baby Formula”. From her pocket, she withdrew a baby bottle and poured some of the oversweet drink in before screwing the nipple on.
“Now drink this and keep quiet,” she ordered her child, “while I get to work cleaning up yet another of your messes.” The little redhead took the baby bottle, and suckled obediently while his mom took off his shoes and socks and ripped off his pants. The kid didn’t have any underwear on.
Then, his mother reached into the bag and took out a Rearz Safari diaper. I rattled my noggin in disbelief. No way was that going to fit on a kid that size! He’d be enveloped in the damn thing.
I blinked, rubbed my eyes and looked again. I must have been dehydrated, or something. Too much diapers on the brain. When I looked again, Tyler’s legs were up in the air, and his mother was sliding a perfectly normal sized but still safari printed diaper under his bum and taping it up.
“Late to the zoo?” Skye inquired, breaking the silence.
“Oh yes,” the mother sighed exasperated as she finished putting her pre-school aged son back in diapers. “Just got here. We would have been on time, but Tyler here couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed and ready on time, just like always. Well that stops right now,” she wagged her finger at her now crying, diapered, son.
“Some boys, y’know,” Skye sighed dreamily. “They’re just late bloomers and never really grow up, do they?”
“He’s been given a lot of trust, but now he’s losing it,” the middle aged mom enunciated so that her son could understand every word. “If you can’t keep your pants dry, then you shouldn’t be trusted on what to wear, or what time to go to bed, or what to eat. You’ve earned this, Tyler.”
The lady reached again into the gift bag and pulled out a pair of shortalls with a little lion on the front.
Skye scooched me off her lap and onto the wooden bench. “Oh, you came prepared?” she asked the woman.
“I figured little Tyler here would have an accident in his pants,” the woman nodded holding out the shortalls for Skye to examine. Tyler, still on the changing table was suckling empty air from his ba-ba. He started whimpering when presented with the shortalls. “But I got this outfit from one of the gift shops.” she looked at Skye approvingly, like they were two kindred spirits. Then she glanced at me. “They’re selling them in all sizes, you know?”
Skye audibly gasped with excitement and spun me around to look her in the eyes. “Gavin, baby, we are so totally going to go shopping!”
Stories of Age/Time Transformation