Gramps - Chapter 8

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 8

 

Just when you think the world is going to settle down and everything is going to stop changing on you, it changes.  Yeah, of course it did.  Courtesy of my dear sweet, diabolical, and cruel granddaughter Kimmie.  The woman I loved so much that I was going to murder her as soon as I got the chance.

Saturday morning, I was watching a TV show discussing the college football games that would be played that afternoon.  Some of which I was very much looking forward to seeing.  While I was doing that, Kimmie was at the kitchen table doing…something.  I didn’t know what and didn’t care.  I was happy just as long as she stayed away from me!  But of course, she didn’t.

“Gramps!” she called.  “Come here a minute.”

I pulled my overly large pacifier from my mouth and called back, “Why can’t you come here?  I’m watching this.”

“Give it a rest for a while and get in here.”

I groaned, several times, and mumbled, “Can’t even watch TV in peace!” as I got out of my chair to see what she wanted.  She was doing her nails at the kitchen table.  Something that didn’t surprise me since for a Phys Ed teacher, she seemed to be overly fond of either doing her nails herself, or paying to have them done.  “Date tonight?” I asked, sarcastically.

She looked up at me and smiled.  “Yes!  How did you know?”

I hadn’t.  And if she had a date it was certainly news to me.  “I didn’t,” I replied.  “I was just wondering.”

“Yeah well, this guy is one I’ve been out with a few times now.”  She looked up at me.  “I like him.  He’s nice.”

“Good for you,” I told her.  Maybe he would keep her out of my hair for a while.  In fact, maybe he would marry her and keep her out of my hair forever.

She motioned toward one of the seats.  “Sit for bit,” she said.

“Kimmie, I’m trying to watch this.”

“Gramps,” she said exasperatedly.  “You know perfectly well that none of what they’re saying is going to matter in the least as to who wins and who loses today.”

“But it’s still interesting,” I argued as I watched her blowing on her nails to dry them.

“Sit!” she ordered, pointing at the chair again.

“Why?”

“Because I want to do your nails.”

I was shocked!  “You what?”

“I want to do your nails now.  So sit!”

“No!  Kimmie where do you get all these stupid ideas?”

“Gramps!  Sit!  I’m going to do your nails whether you like it or not.”

“Hell no!” I told her as I turned and started to walk away.

“Would you rather I put a dress on you and take you shopping instead?  You need some new dresses to wear anyway.”

I stopped and turned toward her, horrified!  “You what?”

“You haven’t been out of this house all week!  It’ll be good for you to get out and do some shopping.  And I have no doubt that with all my clothes upstairs, I can come up with some kind of interesting outfit for you to wear.  And just think, if we’re going out, then you can finally have something covering your diaper for a change, even though it will be some kind of skirt.  So wouldn’t that be good?”

I’m sure my mouth was hanging open in disbelief.  “Oh hell no,” I breathed.

“Gramps,” she said.  “It’s either that, or you sit yourself down right here and let me do your nails.  Then you can spend the rest of the day watching the games on TV.  But believe me, I’d much rather take you shopping.  I think buying you some pretty new clothes would be so much fun.  Don’t you think?”

The horror of the idea was simply too much for me.  In a daze, I sat down at the table.  She reached out and grabbed one of my hands and pulled it up in front of her.  A moment later, she was filing the nails on that hand.  “Why are you doing this?” I chanced asking.

“Because I think it’ll make your hands and fingers look nicer.”

“There’s nothing wrong with them!”

“Gramps.  They can always look prettier.”

“But I don’t want then to look prettier!”

“Tough!” she said.  “Besides, when we go grocery shopping tomorrow, I’d like to have something different for the girls to see.”

I was shocked.  “The girls?”

“Yes.  I have no doubt that Loraine and Judy will be there again.  Possibly a bunch of other girls from the school too.”

How deep can shock actually go?  “Other girls?”

“Yes.  Of course.  You don’t think that those two girls you met last week were going to keep it to themselves do you?  They already asked me if I was taking you shopping again this week.”

“Let me guess.  You told them yes.”

“Well, of course.  I can’t lie to them about it.”

Lying would have been just fine with me.  “Let’s shop somewhere else then.”

She giggled.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  It’ll be fun.”

“For who?”  Then a thought occurred to me.  “Wait a minute!” I said.  “Does everyone in that school of yours know?”

“Probably,” she said.  “Like I told you, you can’t expect girls like Judy and Loraine to keep something like that a secret, and I didn’t ask them to.  They’d never do it anyway Gramps.”

Juuuussst great!  Then another horrible thought hit me.  “How about anyone else?”

What do you mean?” she asked.

“Does anyone else know about what we do?”

“Like who?”

I was starting to feel a bit better.  “Like how about anyone in our family.”

“Oh,” she said.  “They all know.”

“They what?”

“Well, I told Mom of course, and you know her, she told everyone else.”

“Everyone knows?”

“Yes.  Didn’t you just ask that?”

“Oh Kimmie…”  I could just kill her!

“Mom thinks it’s hilarious,” she said, “but Keith, my brother, thinks I should be taken out and shot.”

“I’m with Keith,” I said, still trying to digest the news that everyone in the family knew about what I’ve…we’ve…been doing.

She giggled.  “Mom thinks we should hold a baby shower for you.”

I was aghast.  “A…Kimmie!”

“Well, it’s her idea.”  She stared at me for a moment noticing the sudden thoughtful look on my face, then asked, “What is it?”

“I’m just wondering,” I said, “why I haven’t heard from anyone else in the family lately.  Nobody, not even your mother, has bothered to call me.”

“Oh,” she said.  “They all decided it would be better if they didn’t, since it would probably only embarrass you.”

“That much is certainly true.”

“I wonder what a baby shower for someone like you would be like.”

I could have hit her, but she was still holding my hand and was using a dangerous implement on it.  An implement that I was convinced was already causing me more pain than it was supposed to.

A few hours later, I never would have believed it.  I never would have even thought about it.  In fact, I never expected to come across the situation.  But did you know that it’s more humiliating to sit in your own chair and watch football games on TV, while you’ve got pink nail polish decorating your fingers?  I never would have believed it, but it’s true.  I know because I eventually found myself in that situation.

Yeah, the diapers on display and everything else was bad enough, but for some reason adding the pink nail polish seemed to be like putting the icing on the cake.  I sat there feeling squeamish through most of the game.  My best defense for it was to keep my hands under my fleece blanket as much as possible where I couldn’t see them.  But I couldn’t keep them there all the time since Kimmie delivered another baby bottle to me with more of her favorite sports drink in it.  I couldn’t seem to not see those pink fingernails the entire time I held that bottle to my lips and drank, even though I was trying desperately to only look at the game on TV.

One of these days, I really was going to kill that girl.

Aaaannnd…of course it hit me…or happened…or something.  And of course, you know what that something was.  Yeah, you’re right.  At some point, in fact, shortly after the first college game started, I had no choice but to mess my diaper.  Or is it more correct to say I messed in my diaper.  I guess it doesn’t matter.  Either way, it’s exactly the same smelly situation.  Oh, trust me, I fought with it for a while, but after days on end of being stuck wearing and going in my diapers, there was simply no sense in fighting with it too long.

I contemplated getting out of my chair to do it like I usually did, and I started to do just that, but with Kimmie in the house I didn’t want to call too much attention to what would be going on back there in my diaper.  So before the pressure got too bad, under the cover of my fleece blanket, I raised my diapered butt up off the chair and let it all out, pushing at the end to make sure it was all out of me and in the diaper where I could deal with it…soon! 

Ugh!  Relief one way, but a worse problem now another way.  I gingerly let my bottom back down into the chair and checked what was happening with the game.  Not a lot.  And it was only the first quarter, which meant that it was the best time I could see to get rid of my messy and smelly diaper.  Also gingerly, I slowly let the footrest on my recliner down, trying not to squish my bottom any worse than things already were back there.  I pulled the fleece blanket off me and got to my feet.

“Gramps!” Kimmie’s voice called from the kitchen.  “Where are you going?  The game just started.”

No use denying it.  “To change!” I said somewhat pointedly.

In two shakes she was stomping into the living room.  “Sit your ass back down in that chair.  You’re not changing yet.”

“Hell no,” I told her.  “Kimmie, I’m a mess.  Not to mention I’m going to start smelling to high heaven pretty soon, especially without any plastic pants on.”

“Tough shit!” she argued back.  “From now on I don’t want you changing before two o’clock in the afternoon, every day!”

“Say what?  That’s just stupid.  Why?”

“Because those diapers can handle it and they’re expensive, for one.”

“That’s two reasons, not one,” I pointed out.  “And I don’t care about either one.”

“And I don’t care that you don’t care!  Now sit back down.  I’ll tell you when you can change.”

“But Kimmie, two o’clock?  That’s a long time.”

She smiled that wicked smile of hers and I wondered how she physically managed to do it.  “Yes, it is.  Get used to it.  From now on, you get one diaper in the morning, one at two o’clock, and then you get changed into your night diaper at nine o'clock.  For now.”

I wanted to know what ‘for now’ meant, but was afraid to ask.

“Tell you what,” she said.  If you’re nice, I’ll put off changing you until halftime in the game, or until the game’s over, but either way, I’m not changing you even one minute before two.  So don’t even try to make it sooner.”

I was going to ask how she was going to stop me if I still decided to head to the bathroom to change, but I already could see that she was prepared to physically fight me over it.  I knew without trying who would win that battle.  She wasn’t the one wheezing after just one trip walking around the backyard every day.  I was.

She pointed at my recliner again.  “Sit!  And enjoy your game.  You’re lucky I let you watch them every week.”

“Lucky?  With a full diaper?”

“Yes!  I could make you watch little kid’s shows on that TV instead.  And I already know how to program it so you can’t watch anything else.”  Her expression changed to one of mock delight.  “Would you like me to do that for you?  Wouldn’t that be great?  It would be perfect for all your fantasies.  Shall I?”

Instead of answering, I glared angrily at her and backed up to my chair.  Slowly, gingerly, horribly, I sat my body down.  Carefully, gingerly, I leaned back and raised the footrest.  Then I pulled my blanket over my bare legs and body…and pink fingernails.  She stood there staring at me as if daring me to get up, which I wasn’t going to do.  Finally, she walked off, back into the kitchen.

Yuck!  I squirmed my messy bottom around a bit trying to get more comfortable in all that mush.  It didn’t take long before I realized that things were about as good as they were going to get…until Kimmie decided I could have a fresh diaper.

I tried to concentrate on the game, but it was more difficult than ever.  First the pink fingernails, now my messy bottom.  And I just knew I would have to sit there and endure an ever-increasing smell before long, with no way out!  My fleece blanket was quicky becoming more important to me than ever.  Just to add insult to injury, two minutes after getting settled again in my chair, I wet my diaper.  But the truth was, that was quickly becoming less and less interesting to me.  I was already that used to doing it.

Concentrate on the game.  Concentrate on the game.  It was difficult, but I tried, and somewhat succeeded.  But thoughts about why did Kimmie have to tell everyone about what we did, why did Kimmie insist on painting my nails, and why was Kimmie making me wait until two o’clock for a fresh diaper continued to fill my mind.  And that’s on top of why was she forcing me to wear the diapers anyway, not to mention not letting me wear anything over them when I was home…which was ninety-nine percent of the time…if not more.

And then Kimmie was there again, handing me another baby bottle full of her favorite sports drink.  I said nothing.  I just pulled my pink fingernailed hand out from under the blanket and took the bottle.  She stood there watching until I put the thing to my lips and started drinking, then she walked off.  Darn girl!

I went back to trying to concentrate on the game, this time while drinking a baby bottle with my pink fingernails.  When the bottle was done, I gratefully put it aside and stuck my hands back under the blanket where I wouldn’t have to see them.  Concentrate on the game.  Concentrate!  Yeah, despite the fact that I had peed just a little bit ago, now with all that fresh liquid in my system, I could already tell I would be peeing again soon.  Juuussst great!

And then Kimmie was back.  Not again!  But all she did was to lean over and shove one of my huge pacifiers in my mouth before walking away.  I would have killed her, but I was trying desperately to concentrate on the game, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult with every minute that passed.  Just like the odor surrounding me was becoming increasingly more noticeable.  And you already know it wasn’t a good odor.  With little choice, I did my best to put up with it.

As the game clock counted down to halftime, I checked the clock on the wall more often.  Unfortunately, I could tell that my diaper change wasn’t going to happen at halftime.  When halftime started, I checked the clock again.  Nope!  Halftime would be long over before I got my diaper changed.  Now, did I want to wait for the game to be over, or just let her change me at two.  That question was easy to answer.  I wanted out of that messy, smelly diaper.  Two o’clock couldn’t come fast enough!

The game was well into the third quarter when Kimmie came back.  “Gramps, do you want your diaper changed now, or would you rather wait till the end of the game?”

“Now!” I tried to say with that huge plug in my mouth, but what came out was more like, “Ehh!”

“What?”

Instead of answering, as fast as I could, I got rid of my blanket and got out of my chair.  I pulled the pacifier from my mouth.  “Now!”

She giggled.  She actually giggled!  Darn girl.  “Come on,” she said.  “Let’s get you changed…baby.”

Ugh!  But at least she was changing me.  Fifteen minutes later, I was back in my chair that Kimmie had sprayed with air freshener for me, trying to catch up on what I had missed in the game.  Two scores.  Two!  In that short time I had been gone.  And Kimmie had kept me from seeing them.  Yeah, one of these days I really was going to kill her.  Still, I figured the fresh new diaper was better than waiting until the end of the game to get it.  A lot better!

I enjoyed the rest of the game in relative peace, if you didn’t count two more baby bottles and getting that pacifier shoved back in my mouth between them.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering which pink was brighter and more noticeable, my pink sneakers or my pink fingernails.  Trust me, those super bright pink sneakers won out by a mile.  Although I did have to wonder if the pink sneakers made my pink fingernails more noticeable than they already were.  I didn’t really want an answer to that question.  I was too afraid of the answer.

 

Gramps - Chapter 7

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 7

 

Where oh where has my sanity gone?  Oh where, oh where can it be?  With my paci cut short and my diaper cut long, oh where oh where can it be?

Uh…never mind that, just rambling.

Do you know what that stupid, darn girl did to me the next morning?  Do you know?  Uh…no.  Of course you don’t.  Well, let me tell you.  Um…I guess I was going to do that anyway since I’m writing this.  Anyway, the next morning when I got out of the shower, Kimmie was there again to diaper me.  Yes, yes, I got the powder and a dry diaper.  And I expected to get the plastic pants next, or even the pantyhose or white tights.  Wrong!  I got…um…one of her sweatshirts to wear on top.  And then she stuck those little girl shoes on my feet without any tights, or pantyhose, or even socks.

“No socks?” I asked.  “No pantyhose?  No tights?”

“Nope!  Not anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“Nope.  You’re going without.”

“Not even the plastic pants?” I asked.

“Nope!  Those diapers don’t seem to leak.  In fact, I think we should order more of them tonight because they work so well.”

“But why?”

“Because you’re running low on diapers again.  This time we should order more though.  Maybe twice as many as you usually get.”

“Uh…no,” I said.  “I meant why nothing else?  No socks, pantyhose, or anything else?”

“Oh,” she said.  “Because I said so.”

“And that’s supposed to be an explanation?” I asked.

Instead of answering, she reached over and shoved that stupid pacifier in my mouth and said, “Hush!”  Then she looked me straight in the eyes and pointed her finger at me.  “No more pants when you’re in the house.  None!  Ever!  Only when you’re going out somewhere.  And I’m not talking about just in the backyard.  You don’t need them back there either.”

I was more than a bit surprised.  “What?” I tried to say through that plug, but what came out was more like a grunt.  Unintelligible.

“I want you walking around here with your diaper visible all the time.  No excuses!”

I started to say, “Excuses?” but the moment I started to try and form the word I realized I couldn’t, so I didn’t say anything and wound up staring at her in disbelief.

“Now,” she said.  “I’m going to call you today whenever I get a chance, and that’s every chance I get, and I’m going to ask you to send me a picture of your diaper, proving that you’re not wearing anything to cover it up.  And if you don’t, or you try to cover it up, I’m considering buying a couple of those home security cameras so I can see you whenever I want.  In fact, whether you cover your diaper or not, I’m considering getting some cameras.  I’ve been considering it for a while now.  Something tells me that not only will they help with your fantasies, but they’d also be a good idea for safety reasons for someone your age.  But for now, until I get something like that, I suggest you keep your cellphone handy.”

I had questions.  Oh yeah, I certainly had questions…and more than a bit of shock and anger.  “But what if I want to go out?” was one question I had, but like with the last thing I tried to say, the moment I started trying to form the words, nothing intelligible happened and I soon gave up.  I also wanted to ask about what if I took a nap and didn’t hear the phone ring, but I didn’t even try that one.  Not that I took many naps.  In fact, I rarely ever did.  So once again I simply stared at her in disbelief.

Ten minutes later, she was heading out the door, and I was still in my bedroom wondering why I didn’t simply pull that stupid big plug out of my mouth and say something.  But I hadn’t pulled it out then, and the darn thing was still in my mouth!  I finally reached up and pulled it out, but with an exasperated shake of my head, I wound up sticking it back in.  I left my room with bare legs and a…um…I guess a bare diaper.  On display.  For anyone in the house to see.  Fortunately, I was the only one in the house…I hoped.

Look, it’s a fact that diapers are generally a fairly warm thing to wear, but I can tell you that bare legs are generally a fairly cold thing to wear…or I guess not wear.  Either way, I had a problem with how cool my legs were.  So I sat in my recliner, hoping my diaper wouldn’t leak when I got around to wetting the darn thing because I had no choice, and I covered my legs with a fleece blanket.  Ah, warmth!

The TV was soon on, but it was a while before I realized I wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to it.  All I could think about was nothing covering my diaper for…I guess the foreseeable future.  At least when I was home.  I thought about that, and the fact that Kimmie had “claimed” that she would be calling me to demand pictures.  I worried about when she was going to call, and how often.

It was less than an hour after she left that my phone dinged.  I picked it up to see what it was and found a text from Kimmie asking to see my diaper and bare legs.  Ugh!

I had to pull the blanket off my legs, letting the cool air back at them, figure out how to take the picture she wanted, then figure out how to text it back to her.  Not an easy thing for me since I had only done that once or twice before, but after a few mistakes, I managed it.  I got no reply at all back from her.

So now that I had done that much, could I pull a pair of pants on?  At least until she sent the next demand?  I seriously considered doing that, but my chair was comfortable and so was that fleece blanket.  Maybe later.  I was busy not watching TV.

Geez!  How many times can a person text, demanding pictures in one day?  I think Kimmie was trying her best to set a record.  It seemed like every time I turned around, my phone was dinging with another message demand for diaper pictures and bare leg proof.  The darn girl!

And when I had no choice but to make a mess in that diaper, and then change it, wouldn’t you know it, she realized I was wearing a fresh diaper and asked me about it.  When I told her the old one was a major mess inside, she texted back that it wouldn’t have hurt me to wear the thing for an hour or two longer.  What?  Was she nuts?  Yes, I was sure she was.  And then her texts started to be more interested in having the pictures show how wet my diaper was.  Why the hell didn’t she simply come home, put my diaper on her body, and find out firsthand?  It was almost a relief when she finally walked through the door after work.

But of course, now that she was home, I had to change those “darling” little girl shoes for the super pink sneakers, and the two of us headed into the backyard to walk.  Look, walking around the house with my diaper on full display was bad enough, but walking outside with it that way was worse.  Much worse!  What if a neighbor came over and looked in the backyard.  It wasn’t exactly likely to happen, but it could.  But Kimmie wasn’t giving me a choice.

With bare legs, a bare diaper, and super pink sneakers that could probably been seen from outer space, she had me walking.   Or was that waddling and wheezing?  At the pace she insisted I needed to waddle to keep my heartrate up, once again I was pretty much done in by the time we got all the way around the yard once, but Kimmie kept me going for a few minutes more before she called a stop and let me walk back.

Let me tell you, my bare legs hadn’t warmed up much at all from all that walking!  But getting into the house and out of sight again was a relief, not only because of the cool weather, but because I had been afraid that outside someone might see me.  Now I just had to manage to put up with it in the house.  At least I wouldn’t be getting anymore texts from Kimmie demanding stupid pictures again.  At least, I hoped not.  Not since she was home.  I wouldn’t put it past her though.  Just what did she do with all those pictures I sent to her anyway?  Great.  Now I had something new to worry about.  Just what I needed.

Rinse and repeat.  That’s what the next day seemed to be.  A carbon copy of the day before.  Bare legs.  Bare diaper.  And feeling very uncomfortable about the entire situation.  Exactly the same…except for one tiny, itsy-bitsy little thing.  Okay, it wasn’t so little to me.  Kimmie, my dear, sweet, beloved, and cherished granddaughter (maybe I needed to rethink that) texted me another demand…order…requirement…stipulation…imposition!

Gramps.  From now on, don’t change your diaper until two o’clock no matter how wet or messy it is.  I’ll be checking the diaper trash when I get home.

Was she nuts?  Well, yes.  Definitely!  But she wasn’t the one who was stuck wearing the diapers.  I was.  And wearing them when they were too wet, and especially messy, was horrible beyond belief.  Um…okay, when they were just wet I didn’t mind that much, in fact, I rather enjoyed it.  But that’s beside the point.  I was the one stuck wearing them – because of her!  And If I felt I needed to change the diaper, then I was absolutely going to change it!  End of story!  Yeah.  That’s how I saw it.

Guess what.  When I messed that diaper a little after eleven in the morning (yeah, I still hadn’t found a way around that problem), I made it a point to change it right away.  Wouldn’t you know it, twenty minutes later, Kimmie texted demanding a new picture, and of course, I sent her one, proudly showing that I had changed it!  I got a rather angry text back from her as if she was yelling at me for doing it.  Tough shit Kimmie.  I’m not sitting around in a messy diaper for half the day.  In fact, I was ready now to be done with the diapers completely.  And the more I thought about that, the more it fueled my determination to have it out with her just as soon as she got home.

Ha!  Guess what.  For the rest of the day, every time she texted demanding pictures, I ignored her.  Ha!  She eventually gave up her texts a few hours later.  Showed her!  The darn woman.

Later that afternoon, I was sitting in my chair watching TV when I heard her come home.  “Gramps!”

I didn’t reply.  I figured someone with her kind of education could figure out where I was easy enough.  Guess what, she did.

“Gramps!” she said again as she walked over to stand in front of me.  “What are you doing?”

I looked up at her as if I was surprised.  “Three guesses,” I said.  I pointed at the TV.  “Watching that thing.”

“No Gramps.  I told you I didn’t want you changing until two o’clock, and you changed your diaper earlier.  Very early.  And then you stopped sending me the pictures too.”

“Hell yes!” I said as I got out of my recliner to have it out with her.  “This is all stupid!  It’s enough, and I’m done with it!  Hear me?  Done!  D-O-N-E done!  It wasn’t my idea to do all this in the first place, and it’s my house, my life!  Now unlock my bathroom doors and stop trying to boss me around!”

“No Gramps!” she argued back sternly.  “Not a chance!  You lost out on enjoying your fantasies when I moved in, and I decided that come hell or high water I was going to make sure you got to experience those fantasies, one way or another.  I was hoping you’d go along for the ride more willingly, like you have been until now.  But if it’s the hard way you want, then I can make it the hard way for you.  Like it or not, I’m going to give you what you can’t seem to admit even to yourself that you really want!”

I couldn’t believe it.  “Kimmie,” I said.  “You don’t get it, do you.  I’m tired of this.  Yes, it was fun for a while, but now it’s not, and I want to stop.  So unlock those damn doors and stop this entire mess!”

“No Gramps.  Not gonna happen.  I told you that.  You wanted to do this for months on end to see what would happen, and I’m going to give it to you.”

“Months!” I yelled.  “Kimmie, I always stopped it after a few hours.  A day or so at the most.  Not this where it goes on and on.  This is much longer than I’ve ever done it, and now I’m done!”

“No you’re not.  Not until I decide.”

“You!  This is my life!”

“Yes.  And I think it’s time I take more charge of your life for you.  So I suggest you stop arguing and start doing what I want.”

“Kimmie.  No!  I’m done!  No more!”

“Yes more!  And Gramps, get it through your thick head that it’s going to go until I decide it’s enough, not you!  And another thing Gramps, you should know perfectly well by now that one way or another, eventually, I’m going to make you do everything I want.”

“Yeah.  I seem to remember that you were always the bossy one when you were growing up.”

She beamed happily.  “That’s me!” she replied.  “So get with the program, because I’m going to give you what you want, whether you think it’s what you want or not.”

“How would you know?” I yelled.

She smiled.  “Because I do.  The bathroom doors stay locked, and you stay in diapers.  And I’m going to make damn sure you do what I want!  Everything I want!  One way or another!  Get used to it Gramps and stop arguing.  It’s not going to work on me.”

Before I could say another word, she turned and stomped off.  She got to the other side of the room before she turned and added, “And go change into your new sneakers.  It’s time for our exercise.”  Then she walked away and went up to her room.

Darn girl.  I could just kill her.  Somehow.

A few minutes later, we were out in the backyard together, walking the perimeter of my property.  Actually, as usual, she was walking, I was waddling.  Trust me, I was still fuming over the issues we had just argued about.  I could tell she was still in that overly determined mood of hers.  Sometimes, there was just no getting through to that girl.

Fuming as we walked, I asked, “How many months?”

“What?”

“How many months?  How long are you going to keep this stupid, miserable game you’re playing with my life going?”

“I don’t know,” she told me.  “Until I think we’ve given it a good enough go.”

“What’s good enough?”

“I don’t know.  I’ll know when I know.  That’s the best answer I can give you.”

“Why can’t it be when I’ve decided?  It’s my life.”

“I know, but you can’t seem to find the tenacity to do the things you really want without help, so I’m giving you that help.”

“Some help,” I replied sarcastically.

“Yes.  It is a help,” she told me.  “Look how long I’ve managed to keep you in diapers now, when before you always quit after a few hours.”

“Exactly!  A few hours.  And now I’m done.”

“Nope!  Not until I say so, and you’re a long way from it.  Gramps, trust me, we’ve just started.”

“According to who?”

“Me!  And I’m the one making the decisions.  You’re the one wearing the baby diapers.  And I mean…baby!  But hey, you get to act like a baby.  The more the better.  Which trust me, is absolutely fine with me.  I’d love it.”

“You would,” I mumbled.

“Yes.  I would.  And that’s another thing Gramps.  Since we’re doing it, you might as well put the effort into it and try to accomplish some of the things you’ve only dreamed of.”

“Say what?”

“Put some effort into it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like with wetting yourself.  Messing too.  You wanted to get to the point where it happens without you knowing it’s going to.  But in order to get there, I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to completely give up holding it all back.  You’re going to have to let it all happen on its own.  If you don’t, you’re not going to experience one of your dream goals.”

I searched for something to say about dream goals, but she did have a point.  Still, it was my life!  I also wasn’t so sure that wetting and messing myself without warning was exactly a good idea.  Yeah, in a fantasy maybe, but not in real life.  Kimmie didn’t seem to know the distinction, and something told me that she wouldn’t take well to me trying to explain that difference.

“Why can’t I wear pants anymore?” I complained.

“Because I want you to get used to the fact that you wear diapers now.  If you can see them all the time, it will help cement the fact that they’re a natural part of you now.”

“I doubt it.”

“Doubt it all you want, but for now, that’s the way it’s going to be.”

“Or what?”

Or…  Gramps, I’m going to find ways to punish you if you don’t do what I say.”

“Punish!  Oh hell no!”

“Hell yes!” she argued.  “I guess, like it or not, I better consider that now.  You’re going to kick up a fuss once in a while.  I need some way to make sure you straighten out.”

“Don’t bother!” I told her.

“Oh yes,” she replied.  “I’m going to bother.  I have to.”

“Says who?”

“Me.  And that’s all that matters.”

“Why can’t I have a say in it?”

“Do we have to go through the whole which one of us is the baby thing again?  And Gramps, babies don’t get a say in anything!  Ever!”

“Who decided that rule?”

“The world Gramps.  The entire world.”

Darn girl!  She was going to be the death of me yet.

 

Gramps - Chapter 6

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 6

 

I never actually asked her, but I was sure that Kimmie had drugged me so I wouldn’t hear her installing all the new locks.  Not that it mattered, the deed had been done and the results were evident.  Like it or not I was going to be stuck in diapers all the time for the foreseeable future.  That fact was emphatically pounded clear to me every time I had no choice but to wet my diaper.  A fact that hit me harder and harder each time it happened.  And when I had no choice but to mess that diaper as well, it was twice as bad.

You may all think that I secretly loved it and that it thrilled me.  That was something I didn’t want to admit, even to myself.  Yes, those thoughts did exist, but like I said, I didn’t want to acknowledge those thoughts.  I wanted to be angry about it.  I had told Kimmie no.  She just hadn’t listened.  And now look, I was stuck wearing wet and messy diapers for the next….  Just how long did she expect to keep me like this anyway?  I had no clue.  It sounded like something I had better find out, and soon!  But would she tell me?  I already told you how delighted she was with the situation and how she had laughed over it.

It was normal for me to be wearing diapers to bed now, and that night when Kimmie diapered me and brought me my bottle, she seemed to be happier than ever about everything.  I wasn’t!  And I had good reason for it.  At least she didn’t drug me to sleep again that night.  I know because I was awake far longer than usual, doing something else in that diaper she had put on me (that I wet soon after I got into bed).  At least that was something fun.  But of course, as soon as I was done, it all hit me that much harder.  As usual, I wanted out of the diapers, except this time I knew that like it or not, I couldn’t get out of them.  I would be wearing them until Kimmie had a change of heart and unlocked all those doors.

The next morning, Kimmie was there, in my room already, by the time I got out of the shower.  I was angry, to say the least, but I put up no resistance when she had me lay down on the bed to powder and diaper me.  Just having that diaper fastened on me brought home even harder than before that I was going to be stuck in those diapers, and I was going to be stuck wetting and messing them for…I still didn’t know how long.  Not long I hoped.

This time, instead of my white tights, I was shocked when she started pulling a pair of her pantyhose up my legs.  “What are you doing?”

“Three guesses,” she told me firmly.  “Figure it out.”

“But…”

“Gramps!” she said sternly, then she reached over and grabbed my pacifier and stuck it in my mouth.  “Suck!” she ordered…and I did.  But I’m sure the nasty look I gave her told her how unhappy I was.  The darn girl laughed!  Ugh!

Yes, the pantyhose was something different, and so were the high heels she strapped onto my feet for me.  “Heels?” I tried to ask around that massive thing filling my mouth.

“Live a little,” she told me.  “You never really enjoy yourself.  Try wearing them all day if you can.  Get used to them.”

I wanted to ask why, but when I tried to form the word, well, there are certain sounds that absolutely can’t be made when your mouth is stuffed as much as mine was.

A short while later, I was wearing a shirt, sweater, and I had managed to pull a pair of pants on over those heels.  By that time, Kimmie came downstairs all ready for work.  She kissed me, giggled, and told me to have a good day.  Yes, she was outright laughing when she went out to her car.  She was laughing.  I wasn’t!

Yes, I could take those heels off anytime I wanted.  The pantyhose too.  But the diaper….  I already knew I had no choice but to leave it…and use it…and hate it…and dare I say, enjoy it.  No, I didn’t want to admit that, even to myself.  Remember?

What do you do with yourself all day when you’re stuck wearing high heels?  Okay, like I said, I could take them off anytime I wanted, but they were already on my feet, and Kimmie did have a point.  Why shouldn’t I enjoy them…at least for a little while.

Yes, most days I did a lot of nothing things that I could sit down to do.  But when you’re trying to enjoy wearing high heels, sitting down doesn’t really help the enjoyment factor very much.  Yes, it does some, but it doesn’t really drive home the full experience.

I did this all day, and I did that all day.  Mostly, I did a lot of wandering around inside the house and also out in the backyard.  In the course of my wanderings, I took a better look at all those locks, including the one on my workshop outside.  Yeah, as far as I could see, I had no way of getting past any of them to use a toilet.  Which meant diapers!  But for how long?

Every time my feet started to get tired, I made my way back to my recliner where I leaned back to take the load off.  Relief!  I watched a few shows on TV that way, I read a book once or twice, and a couple of times I went to my computer to spend time looking at sissy baby stuff.  But before long each time, I was up again, trying to find things to do where I could walk around in those heels.  I considered vacuuming the carpet, but I just didn’t feel like it.  So I wandered, then sat.  Wandered, then sat.  Late in the afternoon, I took the heels off.  I also removed the pantyhose.  I put my normal shoes and socks on.

And then Kimmie arrived home.  “Oh Gramps,” she said disappointedly.  “I had hoped you would enjoy wearing those heels all day.”

“Nope!” I told her.  “They didn’t last long at all.  I couldn’t do anything in them.”

She shook her head.  “I’m so disappointed,” she said.  “But if you couldn’t do anything in them, then maybe you just needed some practice wearing them.  Ever think of that?”  With that, she headed up to her room.

Ha!  Pulled one over on her!

When Kimmie diapered me the following morning, the fact that I was going to be stuck in them for the next…who knows how long…hit me harder than ever.  Like it or not, I was going to be wearing diapers for the foreseeable future.  And the truth was, I didn’t know if I liked it or not.  I did…but I really didn’t.  Or was it the other way around? 

Once again, Kimmie started to pull those pantyhose up my legs.

“Kimmie!” I complained.

“Shh!” she shushed me before shoving the pacifier into my mouth.  Darn girl!  “You’re wearing them today…and the heels.  Get used to the idea.”

I tried to ask why.  Some kind of weird sound came out, but she ignored it.  I guess the question wasn’t clear enough because of that plug in my mouth.  No surprise, the pantyhose were followed by the heels that she firmly buckled onto my feet.  But the bigger surprise was when she headed to my closet as I got up from the bed and came back with the one dress I had bought a while back.  “What the hell?” I tried to say, realizing that nothing I was saying sounded the least bit recognizable.

“Don’t bother trying to argue with me,” Kimmie told me firmly.  “I’m not in the mood, and you know perfectly well that I’ll force you to wear it, one way or another.  So I guess it’s your choice, the easy way, or…”  She sighed.  “Trust me Gramps, I’ll fight you physically if I have to, and you know as well as I do that you don’t stand a chance against me.”

That might be true, but still….

She stood there looking at me.  When I didn’t say anything, she brought the dress over to me and held the open back wide for me to step into.  She pulled it up my body and helped me put my arms in the sleeves.  Then she went around behind me and zipped it up.  I felt her fussing at my neck to fasten the clip at the top.  It seemed to take her a while.  But then I almost heard it seem to physically snap into place.

She stood back to look at me.  “That thing is way too big on you.”

“I had no idea what size to buy,” I told her.  “Your Grams was pretty petite, and I’m…not.”

“Yeah, but you’re not that big either.”

“Like I said, I didn’t know what size to get.”

“How about that skirt in the closet?” she asked.  “Does it fit any better?”

I shrugged.  “It has an elastic waist so it’s not too bad,” I told her.  “But the truth is, I have to keep pulling it up when I wear it, which is never, like with this dress.  I’ve maybe worn both once or twice and that’s it.”

She nodded.  “We need to get you better things.  Things that fit.  Not to mention, look better.”  Once again she sighed.  “Okay,” she said.  “Try to keep that thing on all day, okay?  Get used to it.  And especially the heels.  Get used to them.  Learn to walk in them.  If you can’t do anything in them, then it just means you need practice.  So practice!  And be wearing them when I get home tonight.  I want to see that dress still on you too.  Wear it…and enjoy it.  That’s an order!”

Yeah right.

She came over and hugged me.  “I’ve got to get ready for work,” she told me.

Ten minutes later, she called that she loved me and walked out the door.  I was still in my room, still wearing the dress and the heels.

Wear it all, all day?  Maybe.  But maybe not.  I left it all on…for now.

Wearing the dress and heels, I went about my business, or perhaps more correctly, lack of business.  The heels were fun.  The dress…it was fun at first, but after a while, it seemed to become boring.

Since I had no choice but to not just wet, but also mess in that diaper I was wearing (locked bathroom doors can do that to you), I decided to change my diaper to get out of that mess as soon as possible.  Yeah, it sounded like an awfully good idea to me.  Unfortunately, that’s when I discovered a new problem.  I couldn’t get out of that dress! 

I managed to unfasten that clip at the top back easily enough, but when I went to unzip the thing, I discovered that I couldn’t.  I could feel something strange just under the clip at the top, and also under the tab for the zipper.  Something I couldn’t get off.  That something completely prevented me from pulling the zipper down at all.  That something was keeping me trapped inside that dress with no way of removing it unless I took some scissors and cut the thing apart.  And trust me, just then I was very tempted to do that.  It didn’t fit me anyway.  It was way too big…according to Kimmie.  But still, I was reluctant to totally destroy the thing.  Somehow, Kimmie had managed to insert a small lock at the back of the dress, and it was completely preventing me from removing it.  Darn!  And darn that girl!  And darn my situation!  And…just darn it all!

Yeah, I was going to kill Kimmie one of these days.  Somehow!

Having little choice, and still wanting to change my diaper, I had to pull the skirt way up to expose it all.  Changing the diaper with the dress pulled up and my pantyhose pulled down wasn’t much of a problem and the smelly mess was soon taken care of…fortunately.  At least the dress hadn’t prevented me from taking care of that!  But I was still stuck wearing the thing.  What if I wanted to go out somewhere.  What then?  Okay, I had nowhere I needed to go just then, but I might have.  Darn woman!  And I bet she was at school laughing her head off all day at my predicament.  Yeah, that would be just like her.

With little choice, the dress stayed on all day, and so did the heels.  Yes, I could have taken then off, but for some unknown reason I didn’t.  I guess why bother since I was stuck in the dress.  Naturally, the heels and the dress were still on when Kimmie came home later that afternoon.

“Gramps,” she said happily.  “You’re still wearing the dress and heels.”

“Very funny!” I fumed.  “You locked the darn thing on me.”

She burst out laughing.  “Yeah, I did.  And it worked.  You’re still wearing the heels.  How were they?  Any better today?”

“No!” I told her.

“But you’re still wearing them.”

“Trust me,” I said.  “I’m ready to take them off.  Now!”

She laughed again.  “Good.  Because I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“A what?”

She held up a shopping bag in her hand.

“What’s that?”

“Something I’ve been thinking about getting you,” she explained as she carried it to the table and set it down.

“What?”

“As far as I can tell, you don’t do much of anything all day.”

“I do plenty,” I told her.

“Like what?”

“I watch TV.  I read.  I…”

“Gramps!  You sit in the house all day and barely move.”

“So?”

“So it’s not good for you.  You need exercise.”

“Exercise?  Wearing a dress and high heels?”

“Yes!  Whatever it takes.  So…I bought you something.”

“I know I already asked what, but you haven’t told me yet.  And I already know it’s going to be something I’m going to hate.”

She turned her head and stared off into space.  “Um…maybe,” she conceded.  She opened the bag and pulled out a box.  A shoe box.

“More heels?” I asked.

“Nope.”  She opened the box and pulled out a pair of sneakers.  Pink sneakers.  And when I say pink, I mean very, very pink…all over.

“Pink?” I exclaimed.  “And not just pink, but…they have to be the pinkest sneakers I’ve ever seen.”

She shrugged.  “True,” she replied.  “But don’t you just love them?  I’ll bet you can’t wait to wear the sissiest pair of sneakers I could find.”

Maybe true but….  “Don’t bet on it,” I told her.

She laughed.  “Gramps, I am betting on it.  But that’s beside the point.”

That surprised me.  “It is?  What do you mean?”

“Since you mostly sit all day and don’t get the exercise you need, I decided I’m going to exercise with you.  So I bought you these so the two of us can walk together every day when I get home.”

I couldn’t believe it.  “Walk….”

“Gramps!  Just out around the backyard.  Nobody’s going to see you….for now.  But this way at least you’ll have decent sneakers to wear, and at least you’ll get some much needed exercise.”

I was still surprised by it all and trying to take it all in.  “Decent sneakers?  But they’re pink!”

“Yeah.  And don’t you just love them?”

I said nothing to that.

“Now take those heels off and put these on.  From now on we’re going to take a walk around the backyard every day.”

“What if it’s raining?” I countered.

She seemed to consider that.  “You’ve got a raincoat, and so do I.  Problem solved.  Now try them on.  I want to take a walk with my Gramps.”

Just getting the heels off my feet was a big relief.  After the heels, the soft sneakers felt strange.  It wasn’t just that they were pink…really pink!  The soles inside were soft memory foam that felt delicious against my aching feet.  After tying them on, I noticed how light they were.  Like they barely weighed anything.

“How do they fit?” Kimmie asked.

“Pretty good,” I told her.  “But…”

“But what?”

“They’re pink!”

“Uh…yeah.  We already established that.  Now come on.  The backyard beckons.”

I went outside with her.  As I followed her along the back of the house, heading for the edge of the property in that direction, I noticed something.  “Um…maybe this is a bad idea.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I’m wearing a wet diaper under this dress, and it’s very uncomfortable to walk in.”

“It is?  Why”

“Because it’s bulky between my legs making it difficult to walk, not to mention the wetter it gets the bulkier it gets and the more it sags.”

She chuckled.  “Good!  Then you can waddle around the yard with me instead.”

“But it’s not fun to walk in!  It’s hard!”

“Gramps, get used to it.  Besides, my bet is that it’s lots of fun for you.  In fact, I’d bet that the more you have to suffer with it, the more you like it.”

“Don’t bet on it,” I countered.

“I will bet on it,” she chuckled.

Darn woman!

As we walked (I waddled), I couldn’t help but see those pink sneakers with every step I took.  “I think these shoes are so bright pink you can probably see them from outer space.”

She laughed.  “Maybe,” she agreed jokingly.

“At least they’re comfortable,” I told her.

“Good.  Maybe you’ll wear them a lot.  I hope so.”

I said nothing to that.  Yes, they were girly, but they didn’t exactly push my buttons the way those little girl shoes or high heels did.  Still, they were their own kind of girly, and comfortable, and…pink!

“You know what I think your problem is?”

“My problem is you!” I replied with certainty.

“Oh Gramps.  Don’t be silly.”

Who was being silly?  Not me.

“I think you’re problem is that you’re not used to wearing diapers yet.  I think you haven’t fully come to realize that you wear them all the time now.  I don’t think you fully feel like diapers are a part of who you are now.”

“You think that’s a problem?  What else am I supposed to think?”

“I think we need to find some way to drive home to your baby brain that your diapers are normal for you.  That there isn’t, and maybe never was, anything else.”

“That sounds dumb.”

“Maybe,” she agreed.  “But I think we need to work on that.”

“Do I want to know how?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she told me.  “But don’t worry.  I’ll think of something.”

Don’t worry?  I could do nothing but worry!

I was beginning to get tired.  Winded.  My breathing was becoming more labored.  “How far are we going to walk?” I asked as I realized we had turned and were passing the back of the house again.

She glanced at her watch.  “At least twenty minutes,” she told me.  “That’s the minimum for you to keep your heartrate up.”

“But I’m getting tired,” I complained.

She glanced at her watch again.  “We barely started.”  She stopped and turned to me.  “Gramps, I think we’ll take it slow.  We only walked for ten minutes today.  Tomorrow, we’ll do a little bit more and then keep increasing it.”

“So we’re done now?” I asked, breathing heavily.  “I need to sit for a bit.”

“Yeah, sure Gramps.  Let’s get you in so you can rest.”

A few minutes later, I laid back gratefully in my recliner.  I needed to rest a bit before I even thought about making dinner, or even helping Kimmie make dinner.  I reached for the TV remote, but before I could turn the TV on, Kimmie was there. 

“Here,” she told me.

I was shocked to see the baby bottle she was holding out for me.  It looked like it contained some kind of juice.

“It’s a sports drink,” she explained.  “It has everything you need to refresh your body after exercise.”

“But it’s in a baby bottle!”

“Uh…yeah.  You noticed.  Now drink up while I make dinner.”

Reluctantly, I glared at her while I stuck the nipple in my mouth and sucked.

Darn woman!

 

Gramps - Chapter 5

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 5

 

After our latest little “talk,” I was more afraid than ever of what she might come up with.  For the next couple of days she again tried to talk me into wearing diapers during the day, but I kept refusing, and she simply shook her head and eventually went off to work.

But of course, the weekdays are always followed by the weekend, and in sixty-nine years I never found a realistic cure for that problem.

Saturday morning I again came out of the shower to find Kimmie waiting to diaper me.  I shook my head, but caved in to her waiting pressure.  In no time I was wearing a diaper, plastic pants, my white tights, and those same little girl shoes.  And several hours later, she literally dragged me back out to the grocery store.  Why?  Or maybe the better question was why didn’t I put up more of a fight?  I had no illusions about who would win if I physically tried to fight her.  She would.  Not only was she a Phys Ed teacher, but she was all muscle.  I’m sure that even as a young man I would have been pretty hard pressed to fight her, but at sixty-nine I had only a fraction of the strength I used to have.  I wouldn’t stand a chance against her and we both knew it.

As we went into the store, I wondered if anyone had ever bothered to report what we were doing to the management.  I waited to be thrown out of there, but nobody said anything.  Pity!  I guess the only thing wrong with me that people could easily see was the dumb pacifier in my mouth and the shiny little girl shoes on my feet.  But wasn’t that enough?  And yes, I did get quite a number of people who seemed startled to see that pacifier there.  I don’t know if any of them saw my shoes, but after seeing me walking around sucking on a pacifier, the shoes probably meant nothing.

“Are you wet?” she asked.

I never knew where or when she was going to ask that embarrassing question.  “Nope!”

She sighed.  “I better check.  I can’t trust you to give me a straight answer!”

I could have said lots of things against that, but I already knew she had intended on pulling my pants down, like it or not.  Thirty seconds later, my pants, tights, and plastic pants were down to my knees, and she was groping the little girl cartoons on my diaper.  “Why do you have to do that?” I asked.

“Because babies can’t be trusted to know if their diapers are close to leaking or not, and don’t forget which of us is wearing the baby diaper…baby!”

Ugh!  That old argument again.  Unfortunately, she had a point as to which of us was diapered like a…baby.  Me!

She was pulling my tights back up to my waist when we heard laughing nearby.  And then someone close said, “Miss Kim, you’re a badass!”

I looked and saw two high-school girls walking up.  Oh…shit!  Instead of a shopping cart, they each had a few items in their hands.

“Judy.  Loraine.  What are you doing here?” Kimmie asked.

“Shopping of course,” one of them replied.

“So, are you like one of those dominatrixes?” the other one asked.

“Uh…no,” Kimmie told her.  “Not really.”

“But…”

“Things aren’t always what they seem,” Kimmie explained.

“They aren’t?” One of them asked.  “But…what’s going on with him?  I mean, the pacifier, the shoes, and then you pulled his pants down to check a diaper that he’s wearing.  That was just too much!” she said, breaking out in laughter again.

“So what is it?” the other one asked.

“Um…maybe just a bit of fun.  For both of us,” Kimmie told them.

Both girls laughed.  “Can I see his diaper again?” one of them asked.

“Uh…Judy…”

“Please?” Loraine begged.  “We were too far away.”

Kimmie seemed to consider that.  “No!” I tried to say around that dumb pacifier in my mouth, which didn’t help my case at all.  Especially since what came out was something totally unintelligible.

“Okay,” Kimmie caved.  A few seconds later, she was yanking down those tights and plastic pants to expose my pink cartoon print diaper again.

“Is he wet?” Loraine asked.

“No,” Kimmie told her.  “Not yet.  But he better be before we get out of here.”

That set both girls to giggling again.

“Okay girls,” Kimmie said as she pulled my white tights back up.  “We’ve got shopping to do.  And I guess so do you.  See you later.”

“Okay,” Judy replied.

“See you later Miss Kim,” Loraine added.  The two of them moved away, still giggling and talking about…me.

Before pulling my pants back up, Kimmie pressed her hand firmly against the front of my diaper, then looked me in the eyes.  “Yup!” she said.  “I feel something that’s bigger in there than it usually is.”  With a laugh, she continued pulling my pants back up.

I just wanted to get out of that store and go home!  I pulled the plug from my mouth.  “What kind of problems is that going to bring?” I wondered.

“Why would it cause any problems?  You don’t know them, and they don’t know you.  Don’t worry about it.  Besides, why should a baby worry about anything?  Now we’ve still got shopping to do.  We’ve barely started.  And put that thing back in your mouth!”

Yeah, barely started.  Unfortunately.  We continued to wander around the store while we put stuff into our shopping cart.  When I shopped by myself, I could get in and out of the store with everything I wanted in no time.  With her, it took forever.  And it wasn’t because she was trying to go slow.  She just naturally shopped slower than I did because she had to spend time looking at stuff.  A lot of stuff.  Ruthie had been the same way.  I guess it was just one of those differences between men and women.  Or in this case, maybe between an adult and an overgrown baby.

And then, as we were getting closer to the other end of the supermarket, we turned a corner and there was Judy and Loraine, this time they had a shopping cart that held a few more items than they had been holding in their hands earlier.  And yes, naturally they stopped.  I was betting that they had gotten the cart and were still there just to prolong staying in the store so they could check on…me.

“Is he wet yet?” Judy asked.

“I don’t know,” Kimmie replied.  “But maybe we better find out.”

I wanted to scream a big fat, “No!” but before I could get it out of my mouth I was being pulled out from behind the handle of the shopping cart, and Kimmie was kneeling down in front of me.  Right there in front of the girls she unfastened my pants and pulled them down, followed by my white tights and pastel colored plastic pants.  Once again she started groping my diaper.

“Is he wet?” Judy asked.

Kimmie looked up at her.  “A little,” she admitted.

I was so afraid she was going to offer the girls a chance to grope me for themselves. 

“That’s good, right?” Loraine asked.  “You said earlier that he better be wet before you got out of here.”

“Yup!” Kimmie replied as she pulled my tights back into place.  “If he’s not wetting himself, especially in public, how’s he going to get the point across as to which of us is the adult and which of us is the baby.  I mean, with this one, just the fact that he’s in diapers isn’t always enough.”

That set the two girls laughing again.  Kimmie pulled my pants back in place and fastened them.  “See you next week girls,” Kimmie told them.

“Bye Miss Kim,” Loraine told her.  They were gone, trailing laughter behind them.  But why did they have to be there in the first place?  I guess I was lucky that in the times we had done this in the past, nobody either of us knew had seen us.  This time we had simply been unlucky.  Or did Kimmie consider it to be lucky?  Somehow, I had a feeling that might be the case.

I “allowed” Kimmie to play her games with me all weekend like we had been, but once again Monday came around and she again started pressing me to wear the diapers during the week.

“No!  You know that,” I told her firmly.

“Gramps,” she argued back.  “I’ve had enough.  You either start wearing them during the week too, or so help me I’ll…I don’t know what, but I’ll find some way to force you to wear them.”

Which meant there was no way she could do anything about it, and we both knew it.  “Why?” I asked.  “Why isn’t the weekend enough?  It certainly is for me.”

“Because it’s not fulfilling your dreams.  Your fantasies.  The things you actually want.”

“How would you know?”

“You told me all about them, remember?”

Vaguely, I guessed.  “The weekends are enough!  More than enough!  I can’t do more than that Kimmie.”

“Yes you can…and you will!”

“No!”

In a huff, she walked off.  A short while later, she was out the door heading to work.  Had I finally won an argument with her?  I had!  I was proud of that.  Happy too.  What she put me through in the grocery store each week now was way more than enough.  It was way, way too much!  So why were we still doing it?  I had no answer to that one.  But hey, at least I had won that argument.

That night, she diapered me for bed like she always did now.  And as always, she delivered a warm bottle of milk for me to drink.  Just like she always did, she kissed me good night and turned off the light.  As always, the baby bottle of milk was relaxing to drink.  Maybe more so that night.  In fact, I don’t remember finishing the bottle.

I was still asleep when I realized I had to pee – badly!  Worse than I could remember in a long time.  As always, the need brought me fully out of sleep.  As I always did now when I was in bed, I kept my eyes closed and simply let it out.  The pee seemed to flood out of me more than ever.  Much more than ever.  My dry diaper was soon super soaked.  I could feel that thick diaper taking longer to soak it all up than usual, but I kept my eyes closed and started to drift back to sleep again.  And I wanted to sleep.  I was so tired.

But my going back to sleep was interrupted by a soft knock on my bedroom door, and then it opened.  “Gramps?” Kimmie called softly.

“Mm?” I mumbled as I opened my eyes.  It was light already.  Darn!

“Just checking on you,” Kimmie told me.  “You’re usually up by now.”

Oh?  I looked over at my clock.  Wow!  It was half an hour later than I usually got up.  But darn I was still so tired.  And then she had to ask.  “Would you like me to diaper you today so you can enjoy your fun all day?”

“No!  You already know I don’t want that!”

She shook her head.  “One of these days!” she said sternly.  “I’ll call you later.”  With that she left.

I didn’t feel like waking up yet, so I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.  Hey, I was retired.  I had nothing better to do with my life.  Why shouldn’t I?

A little while later, I felt the need to pee again, and I let it out.  My diaper got a bit wetter…which was fine with me.  But once it was over, I realized it was time to get up.  And by this time, I was finally awake enough to actually get out of bed.

As always, I headed straight to the bathroom to shave, brush my teeth, shed my diaper, and get a much needed shower.  I got into the bathroom and started to turn toward one of the two sinks in there, when something weird caught my eye.  In our master bathroom, the toilet area is in its own private little cubby hole, complete with a sliding door to provide privacy should anyone want it.  I liked the arrangement very much.  But that sliding door hadn’t been closed in a long time now.  This time, I couldn’t help but notice that it was closed.  Closer examination also showed me something even stranger.  There was now a strong metal hasp latch on the door, complete with a good sized padlock.  Someone had locked me out of my toilet.  And I had no doubt in the world who that someone was.  Kimmie!

Angrily, I left my bathroom and headed out to the powder room bathroom.  I immediately noticed that there was a new doorknob on it.  A doorknob that required a key!  I tried it, but of course it was locked.  Kimmie!  I’m going to kill you.

I marched myself upstairs to her bathroom, and again I found a matching key style lock on it.  She had locked me out of her bathroom, the powder room and my own toilet area in my bathroom.  I was mad as hell!

But I wasn’t going to be foiled by a woman so much younger than I was.  I had been around a lot longer than she was.  All I needed was a small crowbar to rip that hasp lock off of my bathroom door.  In fact, all I really needed was my claw hammer.  That would easily pry the whole thing off.

I threw some clothes on, having to struggle with my pants because of the large fat diaper I was wearing.  In fact, my pants didn’t want to button or even zip up under all that bulk.  I left them on anyway and finished dressing.  Then I went out to my backyard workshop.  When I got there, I came close to throwing something in anger, except I had nothing to throw.  There was a matching hasp lock and padlock on the side door to my workshop.  I went around to the garage door entrance to the shop where I keep my lawn mower.  I tried to open it, but the door barely moved at all.  What the hell?  Kimmie was taking no chances.  She wasn’t even allowing me to get at my own tools!  And how she had locked the garage door entrance like that I’ll never know.

As I wandered slowly back to the house, my mind was going crazy trying to figure out what I was going to do.  I went back into my master bathroom and stood there for a minute.  Finally, I got undressed again down to my big fat night diaper.  Wearing only that, I shaved and brushed my teeth.  Then I removed the diaper and deposited it in the diaper pail that served as my trash can for the things.  The diaper pail was not only convenient, but it had an air freshener in the lid that helped matters immensely.  Naked, I finally got into the shower.

I took a longer time than usual in the shower that morning because I was fixated on trying to figure out how I was going to get past all of Kimmie’s locks.  I was stymied.  Eventually though, I got out of the shower and dried myself off.  I went into the bedroom to get dressed and while the thought had been firmly plastered in my mind already, the realization of it hit me full force.  I was going to have no choice but to wear a diaper all day…until I could strangle Kimmie later and get the keys to the bathrooms!

I grabbed a diaper and taped it on.  No baby powder like Kimmie always used.  This was going to be like the weekends when I would have no choice but to wet…uh-oh, and probably mess myself all day too.  Darn that girl!  Diaper in place, I had no choice but to get dressed.  No white tights.  No little girl shoes.  Nothing else.  Just that damn diaper that I now had no choice but to wear.

Yeah, all day long, all I could think about was all the ways I wanted to kill my granddaughter.  I loved her, but I was still going to kill her.  She better not be late today when she got home!

  When Kimmie finally walked through the door, her mischievous grin of delight couldn’t be missed.  “Have a good day Gramps?” she laughed.

“I’m going to kill you!” I replied menacingly.  “Unlock my bathroom!”

“Nope!  Not gonna happen.  It’s staying that way until I decide otherwise.”

“Unlock it!  Now!” I yelled.

“Nope!” she laughed.  “Oh, this is priceless.  Just like I figured it would be.”

Priceless?  What the hell?  “Kimmie, I don’t want to do this during the week.  How many times do I have to tell you that?  I’m not sure I even want to be doing it on the weekends anymore either.”

“Gramps, save your arguments.  I don’t care.  I know what you think you want, but I also know it’s not what you really want.  So the locks stay in place, and so do your diapers.”  She laughed again.

“Kimmie!  No!”

“Yes Gramps,” she said amid another burst of laughter.  “And there’s nothing you can do about it.  Now I’ve got to go to my bathroom upstairs.”  She held up her keyring.  “And guess which one of us has the key.  Not the one wearing the baby diapers.”  With another laugh, she literally ran from me and went upstairs.

I was going to kill her!  Somehow.