“Skye! I can’t go in there!” I tugged on her hand but she didn’t slow down at all.
“Don’t be silly, Gavin.”
“But-but-it’s the ladies’ room!”
“So? No one’s going to care. What am I supposed to do, leave you out here? All alone?” She paused, hand on the door with me pulling back. She didn’t even break a sweat dragging me along.
“Ummmm….” I bit down on my thumb. Either go in there- to a place I didn’t belong- with Skye or stay out here, all by myself. What if something happened? What if crazy lady and Chaz came by? Or I pooped again? I shivered and Skye just smiled at the defeat on my face.
“It’s okay, Gavi-kins.” She cooed reassuringly. “No one’s going to say anything, I promise. And even if they did, I won’t let them.” She made my poopy diapee go away. She stopped the crazy lady from spanking me. I was much safer with Skye. Reluctantly, I nodded my head; she pushed open the door and led me in.
I closed my eyes tightly, blindly following her lead. I was too afraid to look; I felt like a crinkly crook breaking in to rob a church or a charity. This was the sacred space of females, a place forbidden to men. No screams, no curses came at the sight of a grown man in a diaper invading their feminine sanctity; I just heard the flushing of toilets, running water, running hand dryers, chatting women. After all the bizarre events of today, this shouldn’t have surprised me. What did the women’s room look like? How different was it from the men’s? Curiosity got the better of me, like when I clicked on those diaper sites, and I cautiously cracked open one eye. It looked….almost like a men’s room, except it was bigger, with more stalls, a small baby changing station attached to a wall, and no urinals.
“What are you doing, you silly baby?” Skye said in a light tone as she led me into a stall and locked the door behind us. “That’s not how you play hide and seek.” She giggled as she hiked up her skirt, gathering up the loose cotton under one arm and sliding her tiny teal lace panties down. There was nothing to them, unlike my own bulbous, noisy padding. I stared from her itty bitty lace to my puffy bottom.
She crouched down over the toilet, spreading her feet a little so she hovered over the toilet seat without touching it, then peed. The sound of her pee hitting the water made me think of the last time I sat on the potty. It seemed so long ago; somehow my diapers now felt more natural than underwear. They were safer, too; they prevented wet pants. I thought of all my accidents today: wet pants, wet diaper, and a poopy diaper. Yet this was the first time she’d gone potty...bathroom...when she did it, it was called bathroom... all day. How did she do it? Her bladder must be made of iron.
How could she hold it all day? I thought all of my accidents and how they each one took me increasingly by surprise, like my bladder was out of control. Like my potty training was disappearing; being erased. I felt safe and secure in my diapers. Only a small part of me insisted that was wrong, that I should use the potty….toilet...potty. Just like Skye. That thought seemed silly to the rest of me. Yet tears sprang unbidden to my eyes and I found myself reflexively sucking my thumb.
Skye flushed the toilet and smoothed down her skirt. Then she swept me up in a hug when she saw my tears. “Shhh. It’s okay Gavi-poo. Don’t cry. That scary loud noise was just me flushing the toilet...you know, the potty. “ She spoke like it was completely natural for me not to know what a toilet was. “It wasn’t a monster. You’re safe. The flushing makes pee-pees go bye-byes. See?” She cajoled as if she was explaining some complicated grown up thing she had to dumb down to a toddler’s level. Grown ups went on toilets...big boys on potties...part of me wasn’t even sure I could make it to a potty. But that’s what my diapers were for.
More tears fell. Skye hugged me; I felt the press of her swollen breasts against me. The urge to suck overwhelmed me. I felt the familiar faint stirrings in my crotch and my diaper seemed smaller. Just like anytime I got to feel her magnificent rack. A stronger, unfamiliar sensation of hunger drowned me. Why was I associating her fun bags with food?
“Come on, fussy button. I’ll save you from the potty monster.” Skye teased as she opened the stall door and led me over to the sink. In one quick motion, she squeezed my padded butt and crotch through the shortalls. I looked down in horror at her hand, too embarrassed to look around at the other women and their children. What would they think of a grown man getting his diaper checked?
“Still dry.” She said, almost surprised. Did she expect me to be wet? We were just at the potty; if I had to go, I would have told her. I mean, I would’ve gone like a big boy. I didn’t have to pee. At least, I was pretty sure I didn’t. After all my accidents today, I guess I couldn’t really blame her for checking, but she could at least let me be a big boy and tell her when I needed a new diaper.
“Skye!” I whined indignantly. “I know when I gotta pee-pee.”
She turned the faucet on; water gushed out in a noisy spray. “Of course you do, sweetie.” She said placatingly. She didn’t believe me.
“I can tell you.” My cheeks reddened.
“Sure you can, baby.” She lathered her hands up with foamy, lemon scented soap.
“When I need a new diapee.”
“Don’t be silly, Gavin. I just checked you; you don’t need a new diapee.” Maybe she didn’t hear me over the running water as she rinsed her hands.
“No! I can tell you when I need a new diapee!” I insisted loudly.
Skye shut the water off, then turned and pinned me with a stare. I shrank inside, feeling small and helpless.
“Like you told me at the pony ride?” She arched a skeptical eyebrow. “If I leave you in a wet or poopy diaper, you’ll get a yucky rash on your cute tushie. Do you want that? No? Then leave the diaper checking to me.”
I turned complete beet red. She used the pony ride against me? I was positively vibrating with indignant rage, my hand balled up into white knuckled fists of anger. That wasn’t fair. That was...that was...extenuating circumstances; same with my poopy accident. It wasn’t fair! It. Wasn’t. Fair. I could tell her when I needed a new diapee. I really could! It! Wasn’t! Fair!
My impending tantrum was interrupted by the sound of a toilet flushing and mother cooing at a young child as they emerged from a nearby stall behind us.
“Good job, Sarah!” The mother congratulated her little girl, “you’ve kept your Pull-Ups dry alll day! That’s my big girl!” The little girl beamed a pumpkin tooth grin at her accomplishment, clearly proud. “Now let’s wash our hands, okay?”
“Otay, Mommy!” the little girl agreed. Her mother lifted her up to the sink and started hand-over-hand washing the little girl’s hands. I glimpsed at the satchel hanging from the woman’s shoulder, and saw a folded up pink square poking out. Yup, pull-ups, not diapers.
Unconsciously, I inched back behind Skye while the mother and daughter finished their bathroom routine. I was embarrassed. This little girl had managed to keep her pants clean all day so far. I’d failed so far, and was on my second or third pair of underwear since showing up today, depending if I counted my boxers along with my diapees.
The mother turned to look at Skye and gave her a tired, but content smile. “Almost done,”
“Yup,” Skye returned the smile.
“Oh, is your little boy potty training, too?” she asked Skye. I did my best to hide.
“Huh..wha?” Skye shook her head, seeming caught off guard since for the first time. I caught her glancing at the Pull-Up poking out of the woman’s diaper bag, and saw her go pale. Was she embarrassed for me?
“I don’t need to be potty trained!” I spoke up over Skye’s shoulder. Skye instantly regained her composure and the color came back into her cheeks.
“That’s right, Gavi-poo,” she tousled my hair, before turning to the woman, “Yeah, we’re not worrying about potty training.”
“I thought he looked a little young, yet,” the woman squinted her eyes. “How old is he? One and a half?”
“Oh, he’s not quite nineteen,” Skye reached around and drew me to her side. I cuddled in her warm embrace.
“I figured,” the woman nodded, “Sarah is thirty-two months and is almost done with potty training. She had almost no interest in the potty till about two months ago, but you gotta train them when they’re ready, and not before.”
“That’s what I hear,” Skye agreed nonchalantly. Great. More parenting talk. Skye seemed to be doing that more and more. Was she sure she wasn’t pregnant?
“But, I’m guessing you’ve got a lot more diapers to change till then,” she gestured to me.
“Oh, you have no idea!” Skye giggled. I just shrunk and squirmed futilely so I could hide behind her skirt. It wasn’t happening.
Then the little girl leveled one pudgy finger at me and uttered a single word: “Baby”. That hurt. That was humiliating. I had been called a baby by one little kid already today. But that was an insult from a little brat. This innocent child was stating a fact in her mind. She wasn’t being mean, she was just telling the truth; and that made it worse for me. I just hid my face deeper into Skye’s body and she rubbed my back soothingly, radiating a kind of warmth from her.
Why was Skye acting this way? Why was she taking pleasure in my discomfort? Then a stray thought snuck in: Did Skye actually like changing my diapers? Did she like the idea of treating me like a baby? How could that be possible? Skye took hold of my wrist and started leading me out of the women’s restroom.
“Well, you and your daughter have a good time,” Skye called behind her.
“Thanks, we’re having a girl’s day out,” the woman remarked. “Sure are a lot of baby boys out today,” her comment reached my ears off of the tile floor.
That’s when another, clearer thought bore into my brain. It was so clear it was almost alien to me. “Why?” Why were there so many baby boys at the park, all of them in diapers identical in design to my own? That little girl’s Pull-Ups was the first brand name diaper that I had laid eyes on all day; everything else was a plastic backed safari print diaper. That was weird, wasn’t it? Baby diapers weren’t normally made with regular plastic backing anymore, I had read enough threads complaining about that fact to know with certainty.
“Skye,” I whispered, tugging at her skirt with my free hand “Skye, I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure thing, Gavi-kins,” Skye smiled as she lead me along, “Let’s walk and talk.”
“Skye, something weird is going on here,” I told her. “Something weird has been going on all day.”
“What do you mean, Gavin?” Skye frowned, not breaking stride.
“It’s just, everyone has been treating me weird all day, and I’ve been willing to let things slide, but something is definitely weird...like I don’t know….” Skye kept walking, her pace picking up. “Skye,” I huffed. She practically ignored me, still walking briskly. “Skye...SKYE!” I begged. “Can we please stop for a second, I need to tell you something.”
Skye stopped. She did not look particularly happy about it, but she stopped.
Stories of Age/Time Transformation