Gramps - Chapter 17

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 17

 

Life is a series of forks in the road.  Decisions that have to be made.  Paths to be decided on.  According to the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland, if you don’t know where you want to go, what difference does it make which path you take?  But of course, the truth is that it can make a lot of difference.

Months ago now, before Kimmie came to live with me, I made a decision as to which path I wanted to take, now look where that path had led me.  Was it the right path, or not?  I absolutely wasn’t certain.  Yes, there were things I liked…loved actually, but there were also a lot of things I didn’t want.  Too many things I didn’t want.  Things that scared me.  And those things seemed to be increasing in number.

I no longer seemed to have any choice at all as to which fork in the road I could take.  Kimmie had managed to take all that away from me.  She was the one in charge and I had no choice but to go along with her in whichever direction she decided to go.  Did she have some kind of map she was following to get us somewhere?  I often wondered, but never asked.  Did she have some kind of goal in mind?  Some final destination that we might eventually reach?  Again, I was too afraid to ask.  I just followed whichever way she decided to turn.  Whichever path she decided to take.

Maybe it was just that I was old and she was young and had more energy to make those decisions than I did.  I don’t know.  It was her journey, but more than that, it was my journey too.  Our journey together.

The change was subtle.  Slow.  Maybe it wasn’t so much a change as a shift.  I’m not certain, but the differences were there.  I didn’t even realize it was happening for a while, but eventually things were different enough that I couldn’t help but notice.  And as close as I can come, it all started somewhere around the first week of November.

I was sitting in my chair again, watching TV, happy for that rare opportunity when I wouldn’t be disturbed for a few precious minutes.  But I was disturbed.  By Kimmie.  As she had done a number of times before, she was suddenly there, forcing herself into my lap.  I pulled the plug from my mouth, knowing she wanted to talk.  I could only hope it was about ending this farce of a life I was now living.  Nope!  Not even close.

“Hi Gramps,” she said.  Then she leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“Is this about that pony again?” I asked.

She let out a big exaggerated sigh.  “Gramps!  We need a pony.  We need ponies for both of us.”

“No!  Not a chance.  And that’s final.”

She laughed, then said, “But gramps, just think how much fun it would be to ride, especially if your diapers are soaked and sagging wet, and especially if you’ve got a big load of shit in the back of them.  Don’t you think going for a pony ride in diapers like that would be a load of fun?”

As far as I was concerned, her idea was a load of horseshit!  It also made me queasy just to think about.  “That’s your idea of fun?”

She laughed.  “Gramps, I’d give anything to see you riding a horse in diapers full of shit.”

Believe me, I didn’t know what to say to that.  Fortunately, I knew she was joking…I hoped.  “What do you really want?”

“Would you mind Gramps…Gramps, Gramps, Gramps, my sweet baby Gramps…”

Something told me this was not going to be good.  “Mind what?” I asked suspiciously.

“How would you feel if we cut those baby pacifier videos down to every other hour instead of every hour, but you have to suck for twenty minutes at a time instead?  And I mean suck properly!”

I was surprised.  Having an hour free would be like removing a huge amount of weight from my life.  “How would I feel?” I started to say.

“And not only that,” she continued, “but the pooping thing would go to only once an hour too.”

Again, I was shocked.  “Once?  Every hour?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.  “Twenty minutes of sucking, every other hour, and thirty seconds of pushing, every hour.  And Gramps, you know you can mess your diaper while you’re sitting right there in your chair.  I’ve seen you doing it on the camera videos.”

Yeah, she would see something like that.

“I’d cut it all out completely, “ she continued, “but I don’t want you to start getting lazy, and there’s still a lot of times when I know you’re not sucking that thing properly.  You need to learn Gramps!  Sucking right and pooping and peeing without warning need to become habits for you.  You shouldn’t even have to think about any of it.”

“Habits?” I said.

She gave me another exaggerated sigh.  “Gramps, I check those videos every day pretty thoroughly.  I watch what you do all the time.  I know you well enough now that I can usually tell what’s happening.  Don’t try to tell me you’re not peeing sometimes without knowing you were going to do it.  And don’t try and tell me you don’t sometimes poop the same way.  I can tell Gramps.  I know it’s happening.  But I want it to keep happening, only more.  So I need it all to become a habit for you.  It’s just that…”

“Just what?”

“It’s just that I know all the exercises I make you do are too much.  They’re too often.  You can’t even get any rest.”

“Huh!  That much is certainly true.  It’s driving me nuts.”

“Yeah,” she said.  “It’s too much.  So I want to try cutting back, just a little for now.  If I see signs of progress toward it all becoming more of a habit for you, then I’ll cut back even more.  The more of a habit it all becomes for you, the less you’ll have to work at it.  Okay?”

Not having to do it all so much was more than okay with me.  It was very okay.  I nodded.  “Works for me,” I told her.

“That’s just it,” she replied.  “I’m hoping it will work for you.”  She giggled and bopped me on the nose.  “And Gramps, we really do need to get you a pony.”

Ugh!  Darn woman.

You would think those changes would be huge, and in some ways, they were.  Just that much relief took a lot of the stress from my life.  But the other ways those changes affected me were much more subtle.  Or should that be diabolical?  While I only had to do the sucking thing every other hour now, it was now for twenty minutes at a time.  Kimmie quickly had me start filming myself doing it even when she was there so she wouldn’t have to watch me so closely.  She could just review parts of the video where she wanted to see if I messed up at all.  And trust me, she was quick to notice the slightest mistake.

A few weeks earlier, she had cut those videos back from fifteen minutes to ten.  That had been a huge relief.  But now I was doing it twice that long, which meant I had to concentrate on what I was doing twice as long.  And since I was filming myself close-up, I dared not make a mistake.  After just a few times doing it that way, the task became mindless, whether I wanted it to be or not.  I tried to concentrate on what I was doing, but the monotony of it was simply too much and my mind couldn’t help but wander.  The result was that even when I wasn’t trying to film myself sucking that damn baby pacifier, I found myself doing it properly, even though I really wanted to do it wrong, just to spite Kimmie.

And then there was the other thing, pooping every hour instead of twice an hour.  You would think it wouldn’t make the least bit of difference in me, but as I said before, the change was more subtle than that, and it took me days to realize it.  Yes, there had been a few times when I had pooped in between my half-hourly pooping requirements, but most of the time the shit came out of me while I was having to push it out.  The result was that I was pooping far more often, but less was coming out of me each time.  Don’t kid yourself, the end result was always a huge load in my baby diapers when changing time came around – afternoon and evening.

But now I was suddenly only doing the exercise once an hour.  Half as much.  Maybe my body had just gotten used to going more often, I’m not exactly sure, but now I kept finding myself pushing, when I didn’t intend to.  I’d be in the middle of doing something, and all of a sudden I realized I was pushing something out into my diaper, even though it wasn’t time.  Hey, in one way it wasn’t a biggie.  I was wearing a diaper anyway and it was going to go in there, like it or not.  But at the same time, it was happening when I wasn’t exactly planning on it.  Kimmie!  That’s not fair!

Somehow, I figured Kimmie considered it all to be fair play.

The next little “shift” in my life occurred a few days after she had sat in my lap.  Kimmie always dressed me for bed at eight o’clock and then let me stay up until nine to watch my TV shows.  But shortly after our latest little talk (about the ponies, remember?), she dressed me for bed like always at eight o’clock, then sent me out to watch TV.  But then at eight thirty, she hauled me right back to the bedroom and put me to bed.

“Nine o’clock is too late for bedtime for babies,” she declared firmly before I had a chance to argue with her.

Yes, I wanted to argue, but I could already see that she was prepared for another of those “which one of us is the baby” discussions, which would only involve me admitting that I was the one who wore the baby diapers.  I would have asked why she didn’t simply put me to bed at eight o’clock as soon as she finished putting my night baby diaper on me, but I was afraid she might actually do it.  In fact, she still might.  I said nothing.  Things were bad enough already.  So my nightly nine o’clock bedtime suddenly became eight-thirty instead.  Trust me, I felt more like a real toddler than ever.

And then there was the other thing.  An even bigger thing.  And it started on a Saturday.  Now remember, Kimmie had been keeping me in high heels for weeks (except for the pink sneakers when we still walked the backyard every day).  But all of a sudden, when she was dressing me to go out shopping, she stuck a pair of white tights on my legs, then hauled out those black patent little girl shoes I had always loved so much.  As she was buckling them onto my feet, my mind suddenly had a thought.  Didn’t I order some new little girl style shoes a while back?  Red ones?  I hadn’t seen any sign of them, so maybe they had never gotten ordered.  Or maybe the order had been cancelled for some reason, like they were out of stock or something.  I tossed it off the moment the black shoes were on me, and I realized once again how much more comfortable they were than the heels.  Especially the pink locking heels.

As embarrassingly as Kimmie always dressed me, especially when she was taking me out of the house, she always let me wear pants of some sort.  Yes, her pants always, not mine.  But they were still pants.  All of a sudden though, I was stepping into a skirt I had never seen before.  I was shocked.  A bit panicked too.  “You want me to wear a skirt?”

“Uh…isn’t it obvious?” she asked as she pulled it up my legs and settled it around my waist.

I searched for something to say about it, but she beat me to it.  “Don’t argue Gramps.  I decide what you wear, not you.”

End of that discussion.  And I never got a chance to say anything about it.

Yes, yes, on top I was still wearing a bra and one of her tops.  That much goes without saying I think, kind of like the diapers.  Sorry, baby diapers.  But once I was dressed that far, Kimmie wasn’t done with me yet.  That day, she again attacked my hair.  By the time I got in the car, I had two matching ribbons in my hair, and they were just as pink as my freshly done fingernails, and just as pink as I’m sure my face was.  Um…maybe not.  I had no doubt my face was bright red.

Kimmie.  What are you doing to me?

What was she doing?  She took me shopping.  But this time, she seemed to be more interested in me than her.  Once again we went to the mall.  It was a completely different experience for me walking around in a skirt instead of pants.  A huge difference.  I was far more embarrassed than ever.  And the ribbons in my hair didn’t exactly help matters either.  The way she did it, was I supposed to look like a little girl?  Ha, ha!  Big laugh!

Why did the mall have to be so big?  Why did we have to stroll around so slowly looking at things, most of which we had seen on previous trips?  Why did Kimmie have to enjoy shopping so much?  I guess these are among the essential questions of life that everyone has to ask at some point.  I asked myself those things every week.

She dragged me into one of the big department stores.  No, of course we didn’t wander anywhere near the men’s department.  Women’s and girl’s things instead.  Oh, and she looked at some of the baby clothes too.  Was she considering getting pregnant with that boyfriend of hers?

“Oh look!” she said suddenly.

I didn’t want to, but I looked anyway.  She was pawing her way through a stack of…something.  And I wasn’t sure what they were, except the material appeared to be soft fleece, and that said same material was completely covered in girly cartoon characters and flowers.  I wanted to ask what they were, but my baby pacifier was in the way.  And then she pulled one out and held it up, letting the entire thing unfold.  And it was long.  Body length!  And I finally figured out what it was – some kind of footed pajamas, all one piece.  And then she turned to me and held it up to my shoulders to check the length.  “Gramps,” she said excitedly.  “This should help keep you warm at night.”

I was speechless, even with that plug in my mouth.  Kimmie grabbed the thing and draped it over her arm, so she could buy it before we left the store.  Wonderful.

A few minutes later, Kimmie found something else to hold her interest.  Socks.  Big deal, you say?  They were for Kimmie.  Like shoes, Kimmie loved socks.  She often wore them around the house without shoes.  And trust me, she had quite a collection, many of them…uh…strange.  But this time, she was fixated on the kind of socks I was afraid wouldn’t be for her, but for me instead.  By that, I mean the fancy little girl style with the turned down top that ended in ruffles and lace.  The darling kind that girls and women all seemed to go nuts over because they were pretty.  You know what I mean.  Sissy socks.

Pluck…one pair.  Pluck…two pairs.  Pluck…  When we checked out, I bought myself those footed flannel sleepers and five pairs of socks I figured I’d have no use for at all.  I had no use for them, but I had no doubt that Kimmie had other ideas.  Believe me, I was happy for once to get out of that store and back into the concourse…uh…where a whole lot more people could see me.  Maybe it would have been better to stay in the store and keep shopping there.

Shop, shop, shop…in a skirt.  Lunch, lunch, lunch…in a skirt.  Go everywhere, do everything…in a skirt.  I wanted to scream at the way everyone was looking at me.  Maybe it wasn’t the skirt.  Maybe it was the hair ribbons.

At the other end of the concourse was another of those big department stores.  As always, in we went and looked at…stuff.  But oh, the stuff that Kimmie found to look at.  Um…how shall I put this.  Yes, I bought and paid for something else before we got back to the concourse, and Kimmie was absolutely delighted with it, even though it had me practically wanting to throw up.  Once we left the store, Kimmie stopped and had me pull that something from the bag.  She grabbed my wallet and my cellphone from her purse, and put them in MY purse, which she then handed to me to carry.  Why did she look so happy and satisfied?  I certainly wasn’t.

“Hook it over your arm Gramps.  It’ll be a lot easier to carry,” she suggested.

Yeah right!

From downstairs to upstairs.  Too many levels, too many stores.  One of which she usually passed by, but guess what, not this time.  In we went…into the toy store.  Um…we didn’t exactly go to the section of games for older kids or adults.  Nope!  You guessed it.  Toys for tots.  Like me I guessed.  Most particularly, toys for little girls.  And when I say little, I mean little.  Two years old or less.

“Gramps, look!” she said, pointing toward an entire area filled with stuffed animals.  “Go find yourself a stuffie.  And make sure it’s nice and soft.  Really soft.”

I pulled the paci from my mouth.  “Stuffie?”

“Stuffed animal dummy,” she explained.  “And put that dummy back in your mouth…dummy.”

Ugh!  Pick one out?  Myself?  As I wandered in that direction, I realized she wasn’t coming with me.  She was still back there looking in the age two and under area.  I looked at all the stuffed animals, and there was a lot.  What did I want?  None of them.  But Kimmie had said…yeah, yeah.  It was her path we were on, not mine.  So what did I want?  Maybe it was just that I wasn’t so used to making decisions anymore, but it took me a long time to pick out a simple light brown teddy bear.  Holding it though, I can tell you for sure that it felt soft.  Very soft.  I looked for Kimmie to show her, but she was nowhere around.  Had she left me?

I found her two aisles away, still looking at toys, but she had some kind of large colorful box in her hands.  “Find something?” she asked.

I showed her the simple teddy bear I had decided on.

“Nice Gramps,” she told me.  “But you could have found something a bit more colorful.  But this is fine…for now.”

For now?

Yeah, my credit card made another appearance, but this time I pulled it out of my own damn purse.  And I put it back into my own damn purse too.  And just the thought of doing that had me wetting my diaper!  Despite not drinking as much as usual, I could literally feel it starting to sag between my legs.

And then the phone in my purse dinged.  Kimmie hauled me out to a bench in the concourse and had me sit and suck my baby pacifier for twenty minutes…while she went into another store to shop.  And yes, everyone looked at me even more amazed at what they were seeing when they realized I was filming myself sucking my baby pacifier.  I guess I would be pretty amazed to see that too…if it was someone else.

Not twenty minutes, but half an hour later, we were off strolling the mall and shopping again.  By the time we left the mall my credit card had a few more purchases on it that I didn’t want at all.  When we got back to the car, I loaded my bags into it.  A teddy bear.  Some kind of huge box that held some kind of “thing” for toddlers to play with.  A footed sleeper.  Five pairs of fancy socks.  And the newest items we had just purchased, two more skirts and…yes…here it comes…a dress!  I could just scream!  Um…my purse I kept on my arm.

In the past, as soon as we got home from those ridiculous outings that Kimmie forced on me, she always made sure that I removed whatever pants were covering up my diaper so she could see it.  I expected her to tell me to get the skirt I was wearing off, and the white tights too.  But she didn’t.  Had she forgotten?  Or was she simply too thrilled with the way she had dressed me that day?  I warred in my head with asking her about it, but decided not to say anything for two reasons.  First, for once my diaper wasn’t fully on display.  Despite the things I was wearing, I was more properly dressed.  And the second reason I said nothing…um…you know what it is.  That damn plug in my mouth.  I guess as far as Kimmie was concerned, silence really is golden.

I couldn’t believe it.  All day long, Kimmie kept me dressed that way, even after she changed my diaper…baby diaper at two o’clock.  And I was happy.  Ecstatic really.  Not only was I dressed, but it was all the stuff of my wildest dreams.  From the ribbons in my hair, to the nail polish, to the skirt, to the white tights, and down to the black Mary Jane shoes on my feet.  And of course, we can’t forget the diaper I was wearing under it all.  My dream outfit.  And Kimmie was keeping me in it.

I was even happy spending twenty minutes every other hour filming myself sucking on the baby pacifier.  Although after which, I realized about another twenty minutes later that I was still sucking properly.  Each time I realized that though – chomp!  Down went my teeth to chew on it.  Take that Kimmie!

Somehow, and don’t ask me how, but that dumb teddy bear I had bought earlier that day wound up in bed with me.  Who could have possibly put it there?  Hint…it wasn’t me.  I suddenly had a new sleeping companion.  At least he wouldn’t snore and keep me awake.  I hoped.  And as for it being a he, was he?  Or it?  Or…her?  Or…what the heck sex is a teddy bear anyway?  I had no clue.  It did give me something to ponder as I drank my warm baby bottle before going to bed…at eight thirty.

No, I didn’t hold the bear in my arms when I went to sleep later.  In fact, I pushed it out of the way…and dreamed about how I had been dressed all day long.  The stuff of my dreams, became the stuff of my dreams.

 

 

Gramps - Chapter 16

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 16

 

Time.  Time marches on.  Time heals all things (I’m not totally sure about that).  Time changes everything (uh, the jury is still out as to if that includes diapers).  There’s a time to laugh, and a time to weep.  A time to love, and a time to hate.  A time to be born, and of course, a time to die.  It’s the time to die that was ever closer to my mind, because I knew that with each minute, each second, that time for me was coming closer.  We can’t outrun death.  We can’t outrun time.  My time was running out.  But, I wasn’t dead yet.  Not by a long shot.  I just often wished I was.

My entire life, where I used to have nothing but excess time on my hands, had now been carved up into an endless series of thirty-minute slices, and those slices had quicky made my entire life a living hell.  Every thirty minutes I had to try to poop in my diaper.  Every hour on the hour I not only had to try and poop, I had to sit and practice sucking on my pacifier properly for an increasingly long time.  Time, that after just a few days began to feel like an eternity.  I felt like that’s all I did, try to poop in my diaper, then immediately sit and film myself sucking properly, then all too soon, try to poop in my diaper again.  Endlessly.  All day.

On Sunday, as usual now, Kimmie forced me out to go grocery shopping.  And as usual, I was dressed embarrassingly.  I had gotten to wear the more comfortable black pumps the day before, but Kimmie stuck…actually locked…those pink heels on me instead.  I had no doubt at all that she got a huge kick over the fact that they were incredibly uncomfortable, and I couldn’t remove them even if I tried.  But hey, isn’t that what loving granddaughters are for?

I wore another of the bras we had bought the day before and Kimmie was kind enough to adjust it just a bit too tight for me.  So much love.  The bra was covered by another of her blouses, this one tailored a bit to help show off the bumps on my chest, even though it was loose enough to go over my body.  As for pants…yes, she let me wear pants again.  This time they were nothing but stretchy yoga pants that I knew did nothing at all to hide my diapered state.  Uh…the diaper I was wearing goes without saying of course, but we’re not mentioning that anymore, are we.

Yes, I was afraid it was going to happen, and it did, but differently.  When we got to the grocery store we didn’t see any of the girls from Kimmie’s school, but instead we did see one of the other teachers she worked with.  More about that in a moment.

What happened that I wasn’t happy about was that Kimmie’s schedule for me was unrelenting.  I had to do my pacifier…uh…baby pacifier exercise while I was in there, and I also had the privilege of doing the pooping exercise, not once, but twice!  And once was…  Okay, let me explain.

We had just started shopping.  We had covered the first two aisles in relative quiet.  And by quiet, I mean no girls following us around, although as far as I was concerned, the number of people watching me seemed to be endless.  But halfway through the next aisle, I heard it.

“Oh, hey Kim.”

We turned and I saw Kimmie smile.  “Jessie!” she replied.  “How are you?”

“Good,” she said.  Then I saw her nod towards me.  “I guess that’s your Gramps that you told us about?”

“That’s him,” Kimmie confirmed.

I wanted to die.  Was there anyone in the entire world who didn’t know about me?”

“He certainly looks…” Jessie started to say, but her comment was interrupted by the ding coming from Kimmie’s bag.

“Uh-oh,” Kimmie said as she checked the phone.  “Gramps.  Pooping time.”

“Uh?” I complained around the dumb thing filling my mouth.  Of course, nobody understood me, nor did they care.

“Ready?” Kimmie said.  “Go!”

Like it or not, which I didn’t, I stood there in the grocery store and worked at pushing something nasty out into my diaper, while Kimmie counted to fifteen.  At fifteen, I automatically stopped.  Kimmie turned to Jessie.  “I’ll explain in a minute,” she told her, then turned back to me. “Ready?  Go!  One…two…”  All the way to fifteen when I gratefully stopped.  “Okay Gramps,” Kimmie said.  “Baby paci time.”  She checked the time and started watching me closely.

I was up to seven minutes each time now.  Seven minutes that was an eternity.  As I sucked away carefully, Kimmie turned to her friend again.  “I make him try to poop in his diaper every thirty minutes, and make him spend time sucking on his baby pacifier every hour so he learns to do it properly and not chew on the thing instead.”

The two of them stood there and discussed things for a few minutes, and I did my best to tune them out, which left me nothing to really think about except how I was sucking on the baby pacifier in my mouth…which was the one thing I really didn’t want to think about.  I was so tuned out that I almost missed it when Kimmie said, “Time Gramps.”  I turned my head, but the same sucking motion kept going.

As soon as Kimmie and I got home, Kimmie sat me down and worked hard to pull those yoga leggings off of me, while leaving the pink heels locked on.  Once again, my baby diaper was on full display.  Only after that did we pull the groceries from the car and put everything away.

In the middle of putting things up, of course the phone dinged time again and I had to try to poop, followed by more baby pacifier sucking…which I had been doing all the time anyway, just not the way Kimmie would have liked.  Hey, I had to have some rebellion in me.

On Monday, Kimmie hit me with another new one.  “Gramps, you do nothing at all every day except sit in your chair.  You need to get up and move a bit.  Do you think you can find the energy to at least try and clean the house some?  When was the last time you even vacuumed the carpet?  Never!”

The truth was though that I never thought it needed it.  It was just the two of us and neither of us were exactly slobs, so the place didn’t get dirty.

“Gramps.  Vacuum today at least.  It won’t kill you.”

I wasn’t so sure.  I was once again locked into those pink heels, and those things were dangerous just to look at.  More so to try and walk in.  Besides, I had lots of other things to do all day, like watching TV, trying to poop in my diaper, looking at porn on the internet, trying to poop again before filming myself sucking on the pacifier for eight minutes at a time, reading a book, trying to poop again…  You get the picture, right?  Between creating eight-minute baby pacifier films and trying to poop where I didn’t want to, it took me a long time to vacuum the carpets.  Much longer than usual.  I figured though that Kimmie wouldn’t care in the least about how long it took.  According to her, I had nothing to do all day.  The truth was, I had too much to do!

And time marched on…endlessly.  Day after day.  And day after day, some things stayed the same while other things got worse. 

Every day Kimmie continued to diaper and dress me in the morning.  Every day when I was home, my embarrassing baby diaper was on display.  Every day I wore a pair of high heels.  Every single day I wore a bra all day long, no matter what else I was wearing.  Trust me, that was weird.  There was just something that seemed totally incongruous about wearing baby diapers, and a bra.  I was getting used to having bumps sticking out from my chest though, even though I wasn’t used to the feel of the bra strapped around my body.  It never ever became really comfortable, just tolerable.

And then came the day when Kimmie was getting me ready for bed, and she finally removed that damn chastity device.  I was free!  Free!  Free!  I was also thickly diapered right away and put to bed with another warm bottle of milk.  Um…I probably shouldn’t admit this, but after finishing my bottle, I laid there and humped and humped and humped.  But strangely, I got nowhere.  Not even a little bit hard.  I think my penis was in too much of a state of shock.  Either that or after being all scrunched up so badly for so long it was incapable of doing anything.  I didn’t get the release I wanted until the following night, after another long, long session of humping the bed.  But hey, relief is relief.  And trust me, I loved every second of it.

It was always the weekends, Saturday and Sunday, that I hated the most.  Yes, deep down I probably had a love–hate relationship with those days.  The audacity of what Kimmie kept putting me through excited me to no end.  But overall, I dreaded those days like the plague.  Every Sunday Kimmie insisted we go grocery shopping, and she always tried to dress me as embarrassingly as possible.  Saturdays were the same, except we either went to the mall or spent time shopping somewhere else.  I think Kimmie was really trying to take me to any place where there might be a crowd…where there would be too many people to gawk at me.  Embarrassing!  I hated it (I loved it too, but I won’t admit that, even here).

The two exercises Kimmie kept me doing every single day were starting to kill me.  Those two things ruled my entire life.  After a while, they left me no time to really do anything else.  My TV shows were interrupted.  My computer time was interrupted.  My reading was interrupted.  Even all the tasks around the house that Kimmie started asking me to do were made more difficult, just because of having to go through those two exercises so often.

Oh, and Kimmie did always seem to have me do something that kept me from sitting so long in my chair and resting.  “Gramps, why don’t you blow the leaves off the patio today.  Okay?  Gramps, can you please vacuum the carpet again?  Gramps, the kitchen floor needs moping.  Gramps, can you please do the wash today?”  Lots of easy little things, but they kept me out of my chair longer than I wanted to be.

I don’t know when I realized it, probably after a few weeks.  Probably after my pacifier sessions went over fifteen minutes, but I realized I was always sucking on the thing just like Kimmie wanted me to.  Not that she ever seemed to notice…at least, I don’t think she did.

As for the pooping exercise, those were worse.  That exercise also had a few unintended consequences that nobody had thought about.  Or maybe Kimmie had thought about them and they were her intended goal all along.  Every half hour, I spent fifteen seconds trying to take a shit where I shouldn’t, then I rested for five seconds, then I pushed for another fifteen seconds.  But more often than not, it wasn’t just shit coming out of me, I was peeing during a lot of those pushing sessions as well.  Well, when you’re pushing like that, you can’t exactly stop yourself from peeing, can you.  I guess maybe some of you can.  I certainly couldn’t.  Trying to poop was the same as trying to pee.  Two whammies for the price of one!  They weren’t pooping exercises, they were pooping and peeing exercises.  I wasn’t holding anything at all back for very long.

Oh, and remember those video cameras she had installed?  I learned their real purpose.  Early on, while Kimmie was at work, I figured she’d have no way of knowing if I tried to poop in my pants or not.  So I didn’t even try.  I just let it slide.  I did have to still film myself sucking the pacifier, that much she could easily see, but what could she see as far as me trying to poop in my diaper?  Nothing!  So I tried to get past it.

Kimmie came home that night mad as hell.  She pulled up a few videos of me really trying to shit in my baby diaper, and then some from that day when I was supposed to be doing it, but didn’t.  Yeah, even I could tell the difference.  My nose got hooked up to that corner again, this time at an in-between height where I couldn’t stand, I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t get to my knees, all I could do was stay bent over.  Um…yes, I cried horribly again that night and was so sorry for what I had done.  Then Kimmie explained that I was going to spend another week in chastity for it too.  Shit!  Yeah, I had to call the police and put out another missing person’s report on my cock.  Like before, it was simply gone.  I never tried to fool her again and not do the two exercises.  And I even put a bit more effort into them after that.

I got lucky…I think.  Once my baby paci exercise time went over fifteen minutes, Kimmie cut it back to ten minutes each time.  I was so happy, I was starting to try to see myself doing it for hours at a time.  Who was I kidding?  I was already doing it for hours at a time.  I spent my entire day with that paci…baby pacifier in my mouth, unless I didn’t have a baby bottle there instead.  I just didn’t exactly suck on it all the time like Kimmie wanted.  Yeah, I was a real rebel!

I’m not sure exactly when it was, probably around the middle of October, but I was doing nothing but walking across the room when I realized I was peeing, even though there had been no warning at all about it.  Trust me, that shook me.  But not as much as a few weeks later when I was out blowing leaves off the patio, and in the middle of doing it, I realized that I was already in the process of shitting in my diaper, and I hadn’t realized it was going to happen.  I was becoming so used to pushing, trying to poop all the time, that when the real thing came along, my body automatically did it.  I had already realized that the peeing without warning was starting to happen a little more often too, but I didn’t expect the shitting to go that way as well.  Especially not since I was still trying to poop my diaper every half hour.  You’d think it would all come out then, not in between.

Somewhere in there, I started to realize that Kimmie’s boyfriend Kyle was spending more time visiting than before.  I was guessing there was a good relationship growing there.  Kyle, he never really outright laughed at me.  He rarely ever said anything directly to me, but I don’t think I ever saw him without a rather disgusted smirk on his face when he looked at me.  Hey, what could I do about it?  Nothing.  It was his girlfriend that was to blame.

And then came the evening when Kimmie had about four or five of her girlfriends out to the house.  Uh…no sign of Kyle, thankfully.  I tried desperately to spend the entire evening hiding in my room, but that didn’t do me a lot of good.  I figured out very early on that every one of those women knew all about me.  In fact, they all trooped into my room to stare (and laugh) at me, before they finally left me alone to go back to the kitchen and living room to talk…and drink.

Even from the depths of my room, I heard a lot of laughter out there.  I just couldn’t hear what they were talking about.  And I was glad.  No doubt, a lot of it was about me.  But I was old enough to know that after a while, most of it was probably talk about their other friends or teachers, students, and more than likely, a lot of talk about men.  Men that weren’t me.  Was I still considered in that category with other men?  I wasn’t too sure.

When eight-thirty came, I was shocked when Kimmie came into my room, followed by all her friends.  Was I aghast?  Darn right I was.  I wanted to complain, but that stupid baby pacifier was still between my lips.  Right in front of them, Kimmie dragged me into my bathroom where they all commented on the padlock preventing me from opening the door to the toilet.  Then they all watched as Kimmie laid me on the floor, removed my messy and soaked diaper, cleaned me up, powdered me, pulled a thick night diaper up between my legs, and this time followed it up with a pair of pastel pink plastic pants.  Back in the bedroom, she pulled that pretty, but short, nighty top over my upper body.  Then Kimmie said, “We’ll be back at bedtime Gramps.  Enjoy.”

And they all trooped out together.  It had all been almost clinical.  But what it had really been, was nothing more than a bunch of women watching while another woman changed her baby’s diaper and got him ready for bed.  Yeah, that’s the impression I got out of all of it.

When bedtime came, Kimmie was back again to put me into bed.  She kissed me goodnight, and pulled the baby pacifier out of my mouth.  One of her friends handed her the warm baby bottle of milk.  I don’t know which one turned out the light when they left, and I didn’t care.

Was becoming a baby that simple?  Or should I say, was being considered to be nothing but a baby that simple?  Simple?  Maybe I should say it was normal for women like them.  Normal, yeah, that’s the better word.  Babies got treated a certain way, and women knew how that was supposed to be.  Normal baby treatment.

Sucking on the baby bottle of warm milk was comforting.  But was being treated so normally like a baby comforting as well?  That was the conundrum I pondered as the milk in my bottle gradually grew less and less.  When it was done, I put the bottle on my nightstand, ignored my baby pacifier like always, rolled over, and started humping.  To be treated like a baby, as if I really was a baby, and for Kimmie and her friends to all think it was normal.  What would that be like?

In truth, I had no idea.  I couldn’t even fathom it.  Still, I humped away, until I heard a sudden uncontrolled giggle.  I had been so preoccupied that I never heard them sneak into my room.  Yeah, I was embarrassed.  Very embarrassed!  But what could I do about it?  I had been caught.  It took me a long time to go to sleep after that.

And then the entire world tilted sideways.

 

Gramps - Chapter 15

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 15

 

Habits are hard things to break.  Forging new habits isn’t exactly easy either.  Neither is being forced to look at yourself in a new light, a different understanding.  Especially when what you see in that new light is nothing but a big disappointment.  How had I sunk so low?  And how had Kimmie managed to make absolutely sure that I was going to stay there?

A baby.  A thing worth nothing but mockery to the entire rest of the world.  Useless.  Deserving nothing but ridicule.  Lower than low.  Everyone else standing above and looking down.  A baby.  Nothing more.  Maybe a whole lot less.

As usually happened, I woke up Saturday morning needing to pee.  As usual, I laid there and simply let it all out.  Peeing like that into my already wet diaper did nothing but remind me that I was a baby.  At least as far as Kimmie was concerned.  Maybe as far as everyone else was concerned too.  She had said that everyone knew about me.  She hadn’t tried in the least to keep my fantasies and the things I did any kind of secret at all.  I could only blame her for that.  No!  I could only blame myself!  They were my fantasies.  All the things I did were because I had wanted to do them, not her.  I actually deserved what I had become.  Kimmie was doing nothing more now than pointing that out to me…loud and clear.

A baby.  Me.

What was I going to do about it?  I didn’t know.  Maybe I didn’t care.  I got out of bed and grabbed my pacifier.  It went into my mouth without being told.  I tried to suck on it the way she wanted me to.  By the time I reached the kitchen, I caught myself chewing on it instead like she didn’t want me to.  Yeah, habits were hard to break.  Forming new habits was just as difficult.

Kimmie wasn’t downstairs yet.  I had no doubt she soon would be.  I stood there trying to suck properly on that darn pacifier, while my eyes were more interested in the coffee maker.  I wanted to stick a pod in that machine and make some in the worst way, but I had to wonder if Kimmie had already made some baby bottles for me and stuck them in the refrigerator.  Too much liquid wasn’t good.  So I stood there, trying to figure out what to do.  Why should I have to be the one to decide?  I was a baby, right?  I wasn’t supposed to make decisions like that.  But there was no one else around.

As I stood there, Kimmie walked into the kitchen.  She came over and hugged me firmly then kissed my cheek.  “Love you Gramps,” she said.  “Want some coffee?”

“Can I?” I asked.

“Can you what?”

“Make coffee.”

“Why not?  Here,” she said.  “Go sit.  I’ll make breakfast today, including your coffee.”

I went to the table and sat down in my soggy diaper, waiting patiently.  Trying to figure out what kind of game she was playing.

Kimmie fried some eggs, microwaved some bacon, and made some toast.  Before any of that was ready she brought me a fresh mug of coffee to drink.  I drank it gratefully.  Savoring the pleasure…or was that the privilege, since I got to drink it from a mug.  She delivered breakfast and sat down so we could eat together.

“When was the last time you left this house other than to go grocery shopping?” she asked.

That one floored me.  I had to think.  “I don’t know,” I admitted.  “It’s been a long time now.”

“Yeah,” she agreed sadly.  “And I know that’s my fault.”

I said nothing to that.  As far as I was concerned, it was her fault.  Although the truth was, it was my fault for being as messed up as I was.  “I haven’t exactly been interested in going anywhere,” I told her.

“Yeah.  Probably not,” she agreed.

“Where would I go anyway?  And trust me, those trips we made to the grocery store were bad enough.  I’m not exactly anxious to add any more insult to my injury.”

She looked at me sadly, then said.  “It’s just that, you being cooped up here all the time, especially for so long, isn’t good for you.”

“I’m fine!” I insisted.

“No, you’re not!” she countered.

“Kimmie, I don’t want to go anywhere.  Especially like…”  I looked down at myself.  “This!”

She smiled, but it was a sly smile.  “I’m sure you don’t,” she agreed.  “But I think that today we need to get you out for a bit.”

I wasn’t happy to hear that.  “Kimmie…no!”

She nodded.  “Yes Gramps.”

But at that point I heard a ding.  It took me a moment to realize what it was.

“Pacifier time Gramps,” she told me.

I know my jaw dropped.  “But we’re eating.”

She shook her head.  “No excuses,” she told me.  “You can finish eating when you’re done.  Now stick that thing back in your mouth and get busy.”

I was about to stick it in my mouth again when a thought hit me.  “Do I have to film it again?”

“Not as long as I’m here to watch you,” she told me.  “Now start working on it.  I’ll time you and let you know when you can stop.  And it’s six minutes today,” she added.  “Another day.  Another minute.”

Ugh!  Facing the inevitable, and not wanting to give her any reason to get mad at me, I stuck the pacifier in my mouth and did my best to suck on it exactly the way she had decided I should.  Suck, relax.  Suck, relax.  Yeah.  Habits were hard to break, but she was doing her best to make me learn a new one now.  It felt like forever before she said I could stop and go back to eating my breakfast.  No surprise, by that time my eggs were cold.

After breakfast, she told me I could clean up the dishes and load the dishwasher.  I was still in my soaked nighttime diaper, but that was fine.  Pacifier in mouth, I got busy in the kitchen with the simple task of cleaning up.  Afterwards, I went to my bathroom, shaved, and got gratefully into the shower, where I stayed for a few minutes longer than usual.  I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Kimmie waiting for me when I got out.

Powder and a fresh diaper.  Heaven.  Then she added a pair of plastic pants that surprised me.  I said nothing about it though, like I said nothing about anything.  Stockings were next.  I expected another pair of leg warmers, but instead she had me stand up and she handed me one of her colorful patterned blouses to put on.  Buttoning the thing up was awkward since the buttons were backwards for me.  It just took me a minute longer than it should have.  Kimmie just watched me patiently.  When I was done, she went to a pile of things on my dresser and grabbed…a pair of pants!  Hip, hip, hooray!  Except I soon noticed that once again, they were her pants.  And once again, they had no fly, just an elastic waist.  I stepped into them and had to fight with them a bit to get them over my diaper.  But they were soon up and on.  Finally, something to cover my embarrassing diaper!  She sat me on the bed and then went to my closet.  When she came back, I was surprised to see the black high heeled pumps she had me buy earlier in the week.  “When did they come in?” I asked.

“Yesterday,” she told me.

I let her stick them on my feet.  No straps for a change.  They fit tight, but not too tight.  I wasn’t even standing in them yet and I knew they’d be a lot more comfortable than those pink heels.  Had I graduated now from little girl shoes to high heels?  It seemed like it since that’s all I had been wearing lately.

Kimmie had me stand up so she could look me over.  Yeah, the black pumps weren’t too bad at all.  I judged the heel to be about the same height as my original pair of heels, just a lot thinner, which meant I was going to have to be careful walking in them.  I noticed that standing up, the length of the pants came down a few inches past my ankles, which meant that the pants would help hide a little of the shoes I was wearing.  Another reason to celebrate.  No, scratch that.  They wouldn’t hide the shoes well enough at all.  They’d still be noticeable not only below the pants but more so with every step I took, not to mention the sound the heels were likely to make.  Foiled again.

I was completely dressed, but not one male piece of clothing.  Aaand…my fingernails were pink.  Perfect!  For Kimmie.  Not me.  “I’m fully dressed,” I chanced saying out loud.

“You noticed!” she replied mockingly.

“Why?  Why all of a sudden?”

“I told you already.”

I remembered our conversation during breakfast.

“So you were already planning on taking me out…like this?  Grocery shopping?” I asked hopefully.

“Nope,” she replied.  “But I am planning on taking you shopping.  Just nowhere near a grocery store…probably.”

“Where then, dare I ask?”

“How many times have you been to the mall here in Johnson City,” she asked me instead.

“A few,” I told her.  “That was more Ruthie’s territory than mine.”

“Where was your territory?”

“My chair in the other room.”

“And it’s time to get you out of that chair!  Way past time.  I should have never let you sit and do nothing for so long.”

“Even though I’m perfectly happy sitting there, and I can tell you for a fact that I don’t want to go!” I told her, my voice becoming more desperate with every word.

She looked at me sternly and came close.  “Are you going to give me any trouble today?” she asked menacingly.  “Or should I just hook you up to the corner again?”

My mind had been unable to forget being trapped by her diabolical torture device last night, and it especially couldn’t forget the lessons it had taught me.  I was a failure.  I was worth nothing except to be the laughing stock of everyone else.  I had no say in anything anymore.  I was for all intents and purposes…her baby.

After a moment, I looked sorrowfully down at the floor.  “No,” I said softly.  “Don’t do that to me again.”

“You promise to be good, no matter what?”

It sounded like Kimmie had some nasty stuff planned for me that day.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Then where’s your pacifier?  It belongs in your mouth.”

I grabbed my pacifier from the nightstand next to the bed and stuck it in in my mouth.  I looked at her so she could watch me sucking on it properly like she wanted.

“Good,” she declared.  “I just need a few minutes to get ready, then we can go.”

As I waited in the kitchen, sucking my pacifier, my mind couldn’t help but think about what a sorry sack of shit I had become.  Ruthie would be so disappointed in me.  That thought hurt the most.

“All set?”

My unhappy reverie was interrupted as Kimmie came back into the kitchen, ready to go.

I pulled the plug from my mouth so I could answer her.  “I just wish we wouldn’t do this,” I replied.

 “We’re going!  Like it or not!” she told me sternly.  “Get your jacket!”

There was a ding that came from her purse.  I watched as she dug my cellphone out of it.

“Pacifier time,” she announced.  She stared closely at my face and I knew that was my cue to make sure I was sucking on that thing properly.  Six minutes felt like forever, but she stood there watching me closely for every single second.  “Time!” she suddenly announced.  “Okay Gramps.  You might need your warmer jacket today.  It’s supposed to be cold and windy out there.

I was so happy that I got to wear my heavier weight jacket.  Not just because in the later part of September the weather was cold and blustery, but because the jacket came down a bit lower than my lighter weight one and it covered a bit more of me, all the way from my shoulders to the middle of my diaper covered butt.  It certainly didn’t hide everything though.  Not by a long shot.

I was soon in Kimmie’s car, and we were leaving the house.  How long had it been since I had last driven my pickup truck?  Too long.  I couldn’t even remember when that was.  Still, I didn’t want to be going anywhere just then.  But I knew I had no choice.  Not after what she did to me last night.  I knew now that I was nothing but her possession, to do whatever she wanted with me, no matter how perverted that might be.  I was a baby.  I had no say in anything.

Accidents never happen when you want them to, only when you’re not expecting them.  I didn’t know if it would be better if we had a car accident and didn’t get to the mall, or if an accident would only make matters worse for me.  Either way, we got there safely.

As usual, I didn’t want to get out of the car, but one look from Kimmie and I got out.  I was a bit slow with it though and Kimmie had to wait a bit for me.  Yeah, I really didn’t want to be there.

Just before we got to the mall entrance, Kimmie surprised me when she let out a soft curse.

“Darn it!” she said.  “I wanted to have you drink another bottle before we left this morning, but I forgot.  My bad.”

Her bad?  I was happy about it.  I chanced pulling the plug from my mouth.  “I’m glad!  Especially since we’re away from the house.”

She grabbed the door handle.  “Why?” she asked.  Then she opened the door and held it so I could go through, as if I was her child, which I guess I was.

“Because all those bottles make me pee too much.”

“Good!” she declared as we entered the wide concourse inside.  “Never too much.”

Maybe for her, but it was certainly too much for me.  “Yeah,” I said, “but those drinks also make me poop too much.  My diapers are always nothing but a huge mess.  Why do you think I complain so much about having to wait to change every day?”

She looked at me for a moment, then continued walking, but I could tell she was thinking about that.  I kept the pacifier in my hand until, without even looking at me, she said, “Paci!”

Ugh!

It was Saturday, and even for it being morning there were quite a few people there.  I had thought that Kimmie had some kind of exact destination in mind for us to go to, but instead we were strolling casually along, spending time looking.  Shopping.  I’m sure for her it was quite enjoyable, I couldn’t say that for myself.  I only wanted to get out of there and go home!

Kimmie didn’t seem to care that everyone, and I mean everyone, was looking at me strangely.  She knew it and simply acted like everything was normal.  I didn’t have that luxury, but as always, there was nothing I could do about it.  I couldn’t even complain, not with that damn pacifier in my mouth.  I’m sure everyone noticed my shoes.  I’m sure they noticed my fingernails.  But it was obvious to me that they usually noticed those things after they saw me sucking on that pacifier.

We went in and out of a number of stores, looking at things.  Kimmie bought a few things for herself (I hoped).  In the shoe store she tried on four or five different pairs but didn’t wind up buying any of them.  She did ask me if I saw any of the women’s shoes that I might want to try on.  I shook my head to tell her no.  I was glad when she didn’t push the issue.

And then that stupid dinging sound came again from her purse.  Right there in the mall concourse, she pulled me over to the side and watched as I sucked properly on my pacifier for six entire minutes before she declared that it was long enough.  How many people saw us there?  I’m sure all of them wondered what we were doing.  And I’m sure they all could tell it had something to do with the pacifier in my mouth.

I thought we were going to move on then, but instead, Kimmie said, “Wait a minute.”

With that paci in my mouth, I couldn’t ask what for.  Unfortunately, I soon found out.

“You said that all those bottles make you poop more into your diapers,” she asked.

I nodded emphatically.

“But that doesn’t make sense.  It’s just liquid.  Yeah, you might pee a bit more, but not that much.  But those drinks shouldn’t make you have to poop any more than you would normally have to go.”

I, of course, had a different opinion on the matter.

“So to me,” she continued, “that means that you’re simply holding back too much and waiting too long for it to build up in your system.”

I started to pull the plug from my mouth so I could comment on that, but she stopped me saying, “Don’t take it out!  Don’t try to argue with me.  It won’t work!”

I took my hand away from the pacifier.  I did wonder where she was going with all this.  But that’s when she hit me with it.

“I want you to stand there and try to poop in your diaper right now!”

I was shocked.  I tried to say, “What?” but it came out as “Uh?”

“Poop that diaper right now.  Push it out…now!  Do it Gramps, or I swear I’m going to punish you as soon as we get home.”

Fear ran up my spine.  “Uh-uh,” I grunted, trying to tell her I didn’t want to get punished.

“Then shit in that diaper…now!  Come on.  I want to see you trying to put a load back there.  Do it!”

I didn’t want to, but I could see she was serious about the punishment part, and I’d do anything to avoid that.  I had no choice but to concentrate and start trying to push something out of my system.  I was surprised when she suddenly said, “Good!”  I stopped, but she said, “Keep pushing.  More.”  So I did.  A few seconds later, she said, “Okay, that’s enough…for now.”

For now?

“We’ll try this again in a little while.  Come on baby.  Let’s keep going.”

Keep going?  The only place she really wanted me going in that mall, was in the back of my diaper.

It was just another store in the mall…to her.  In fact, I knew it was a fairly popular store in the mall…for her…and all the other women in the area.  It wasn’t popular for men, and it especially wasn’t popular with me.  Especially not just then.  Kimmie didn’t say anything about it or even pause like she often did before going into a store.  She just turned a bit in that direction and in we went.  Straight into the store that specialized in women’s lingerie.  As usual now, I simply followed her around like a lost puppy, doing nothing but wishing we could get out of there and go home.

As she wandered around, Kimmie picked up a lot of things, then put them back.  Mostly though, I got the impression that she was looking at bras.  And then she came across a colorful assortment of them that like so many others in the store had fairly stiff and thick bra cups. 

“These might be perfect for you,” she declared.

I was aghast.  I quickly pulled that paci from my mouth.  “For me?”

“Yes, for you.  You need something to give you some shape on top.”

“But…”

“Gramps!  Don’t argue!  You’re buying yourself some new bras, and you’re going to be wearing them, probably a lot.  Get used to the idea.”

“But I don’t want to buy any bras,” I whispered urgently.  “Especially not here.  Online…maybe.  But not here.”

“Here!  In the store!” she insisted.  “And stop trying to argue.  What say does a baby have in it anyway?  If I decide I want you to wear bras, that’s my decision, not yours.  Babies have no say in the matter at all.”

“But…”

“Gramps!  Which one of us is wearing the baby diapers?”

She stared me down menacingly.  After a few moments, I hung my head in shame.  “Me,” I replied.

“You what?” she pushed.

“I wear the diapers.”

“No,” she said.  They’re baby diapers Gramps.  Say it.  You wear baby diapers.”

“Kimmie, that’s just…”

“Say it Gramps.  I mean it.  What are they?  What do you wear?”

Ugh!  “Baby diapers,” I replied, just to get her to stop harping about it.

“Good.  Remember that.  From now on, you never talk about your diapers without calling them baby diapers.  Get that through your head.  Baby diapers.  Baby pacifier.  Like that.”

Yeah, she was nuts.

“Now put that damn baby pacifier back in your mouth and remember that.  I need to find us some help.”

Help?  Why?  That was the last thing I wanted…besides buying bras…for myself.  I shoved the darn baby pacifier back into my mouth.

“Wait here,” she told me.  She walked off about ten feet before she stopped and signaled toward one of the store workers.  The woman came over to her and Kimmie unfortunately led her straight back to me.  I could see the woman looking me over carefully.  I could see she had plenty of questions, but I could also see that Kimmie was talking to her.  “He needs some bras to give him some shape on top, and I figured some of these would be perfect for him.  I just don’t know his chest size.  I really should have thought to measure that before we left home.”

The woman was still looking me over from my head to my black high heeled toes.  “Of course,” she replied.  “The measuring room is back this way.”

She led us to the back of the store and into a small closet like room.  Kimmie herself unzipped my jacket and took it off me as if I was a child, then she unbuttoned the blouse I was wearing as well.  The store woman did nothing but watch silently.  I just stood there letting her, and sucking on my baby pacifier of course, just like a damn toddler.

The woman came over and wrapped a tape measure around my chest in a few places, checking it each time.  “Thirty-eight,” she declared.  “I’m sure you’re not interested in cup size.  He doesn’t have one.”

Kimmie smiled.  “But he will.  Just as soon as I can buy some of those bras and get him into the ladies’ room.”

The woman shook her head.  She wasn’t smiling.  “Wait here,” she told us.  “I’ll get one and bring it back.  What color were you interested in?”

“For now?” Kimmie replied, “I think the dusty rose colored one.”

The woman just shook her head and walked out, leaving us there.

I don’t know if I wanted to pull that plug from my mouth to say something or not, but Kimmie made that decision for me.  “Don’t say anything!” she said sternly.

So much for having something to say.

The woman came back with the weird rose colored bra in her hands.  Both she and Kimmie put it on me and the woman took the time to pull on the straps, adjusting them a bit tighter than I expected.  When she was done, she walked out and Kimmie put the blouse back on me and buttoned it up.  Then she put my jacket back on me too, not bothering to zip it up at all, leaving that colorful blouse, now complete with breasts underneath where they could be seen a lot easier.  Finally, Kimmie led me out of that tiny room.  Me…I just wanted to die.  I wet my diaper instead.

Kimmie went over to the bra display where we had been before and pulled four more bras from it, all in different colors.  Then she led me over to the checkout.  That woman was already there waiting for us.  Kimmie handed her the bras to ring up, then dug into her purse and handed me my wallet.  I got the message.  Not daring to remove the baby pacifier from my mouth, which meant that I didn’t say one word about it, I paid for all the bras.

Kimmie took my wallet from me again and stowed it back in her purse and we walked out of there.  I could tell that Kimmie was happy.  I certainly wasn’t.

We got just a few yards away from the store when Kimmie pulled me over to the side again.  She pulled her phone from her purse and checked the time.  Then she turned to me.  “Pooping time again Gramps.”

I tried to say, “What?” which naturally came out as, “Uh?”

“Pooping time,” she told me.  “Just like you did before.  Try to poop in your diaper.”  When I hesitated she added, “Don’t give me any trouble over this.  Do it…baby!  Show me what a baby you can be and do your best to keep trying to poop in your diaper until I say you can stop.”  Again, she waited a moment, then said, “I’m waiting.  Damn, we are going to have to punish you as soon as you get home?  I’m sick of you not doing what I tell you.”

I immediately started bearing down, trying to shit in my diaper, right then and there.

“Finally!” she said.  “I can see you actually trying.”

She could tell?  How?  I didn’t really have to go, but I was wondering if something might come out soon, when she suddenly said.  “Good.  Okay.  That’s enough for now.  We’ll do it again in a little bit.”

What the hell was she after?  Oh!  I figured it out.  She just wanted me to mess myself while we were out in the stores.  In public.  In front of everyone else.

Darn woman!

Home, home, home!  But we didn’t go home.  The mall had two levels, upstairs and downstairs, and Kimmie just had to cover every bit of it, including inside half the stores.  I covered every bit of it too, with a baby pacifier in my mouth, a noticeable bra under my noticeable woman’s blouse, noticeable women’s pants, noticeable women’s high heels on my feet, noticeable pink fingernails, and of course, I was sure that before long, my diaper under those women’s pants would be fairly noticeable as well.  I was a bit wetter than when we first started.  Not nearly as bad as it would have been if we had stayed home and I had to drink bottle after bottle of her stupid sports drinks, but my diaper was still a bit wetter.  Oh, sorry, I have no doubt I should have said baby bottles, and baby diaper.  I was going to kill that woman one of these days.

Wearing the bra was an unforgettable experience.  I couldn’t forget it because I couldn’t forget about it.  It was tight and it simply felt strange.  I wanted to keep stretching my arms, or my back, or my chest, which of course I couldn’t do much.  And if I did stretch a bit, it wouldn’t have made any difference anyway.  The thing was fastened on me, and there was no getting it off until I could get undressed.  How long did Kimmie intend on making me wear it anyway?  I was betting all the way until she dressed me for bed…and maybe longer…in bed.  After wearing it just that long, I decided that I wasn’t interested in that bit of fun.  Especially since the police still hadn’t located my missing cock.  If they had, things might have been a bit different.

When the phone in her purse dinged, right then and there I had to spend some time trying to poop in my diaper again, before we went right into the pacifier…sorry, baby pacifier exercise.  Uh…don’t tell Kimmie, but I almost did poop myself just then.  I was so glad when she declared time just before it happened.

We stopped in the food court for an early lunch.  I was allowed to take the baby pacifier from my lips.  I’m sure the only reason she allowed me to remove it was so I could eat.  While we ate, she fussed for a few minutes with my phone that she pulled from her purse.  Then the phone disappeared.  We had barely finished eating and were just getting up from the table when I heard that phone ding again.  I was confused because it hadn’t been that long since she had “observed” me sucking.

“Pooping time again,” she said as we walked.

I looked over at her, and tried to say, “What?” which came out as “Uh?”

“Pooping time.  Keep walking.  I can tell now when you’re trying to poop, so just keep walking and poop your diaper.”  She leaned her head a bit closer to me.  “Your face turns a bit red, among some other easy tells, so I know what you’re doing.  Now get busy.”

She had to be nuts!  Yes, I knew she was, but with her doing more looking at me than where we were going, we slowly walked while I tried to do what I really, really didn’t want to do.  And…darn it!  Some came out.  Not a huge amount, but more than enough to make sure I’d not only know it was there, but to make things a lot more uncomfortable for me.

I suddenly heard her laughing.  “Keep pushing,” she said as she giggled.  “It’s not time yet.”

Like it or not, which I didn’t, I kept trying.  Nothing more came out, and I was glad.  What I had done was bad enough.

“Time,” she suddenly called and I relaxed.  She leaned her head over towards me.  “Did you just mess yourself?”

Trust me.  I looked at her with an angry expression on my face.  She laughed.  I wondered if she was going to try to change me now.  In public.  Then I remembered that I hadn’t seen her pack anymore diapers or anything else to change me.

As we kept walking, I wondered about if she changed me in public, how would that affect the two o’clock designated changing time I had to live with lately.  But she didn’t appear to be interested in changing me at all.  She just continued shopping, dragging me from store to store, now with a load in my pants.  It’s a good thing she had put those plastic pants on me.  Otherwise, the smell would have been a lot more noticeable.

And of course, half an hour later, the phone dinged.  I was shocked when she made me try to shit myself again…before studying carefully how I was sucking on that damn pac…uh, baby pacifier.

Half an hour later, it was pooping time again.  Once again I noticed that while it didn’t actually happen, if she had made me try much longer, it might have.  Maybe having lunch out was a bad idea.

When we finally left the mall, my feet were in agony from those new heels I was wearing, although with the pacifier in…uh baby pacifier in my mouth, I couldn’t even tell her about it.  Not that she would care anyway.  Knowing Kimmie the way I did now, I was fairly sure she’d be delighted that my feet were killing me.

My other immediate problem of course was the load in the back of my diaper.  I was concerned about it while we were in the mall, and I was even more concerned about it as we headed to the car.  I was going to have to sit in that mess.  Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.  Trust me, I got into the car very carefully, not to mention settled myself in the seat very slowly.  As I did, I could feel that mess squishing up against my backside.  Y-U-C-K!  Yuck!

Kimmie started the car and we left the mall.  She suddenly let out a short laugh, then said, “I think that’s going to work out great.”

Was she talking to me?  And what exactly was she talking about?  I soon found out.

“From now on, if you try to poop every half hour for thirty seconds, and every hour you continue to do your suckling exercise for however long you’re supposed to, I think those two things should make a world of difference for you.”

I was shocked.  A world of difference?  What?

“I can already tell,” she added, “that sometimes you actually suck that baby paci more like you’re supposed to, and if you try to poop in your diaper every half an hour, I’m betting your body will get the point where eventually you’ll have less trouble doing it whenever your body thinks it needs to go…not you.”

Huh?  She laughed again, sounding very satisfied with herself.  For once, I was glad that I had that baby pacifier in my mouth.  I didn’t know what I would say to all that anyway?  My life was going to be occupied doing things every half hour?  What the heck?

And then she ruined my day completely, as if it hadn’t already been totally destroyed.  “You were bad a few times today,” she said far more seriously.  I saw her briefly turn her head in my direction, then look back at the road.  “Bad enough that I’m going to punish you again when we get home.”  I know since she was driving that she couldn’t see the look of fear on my face.  “Plan on it!” she added.  “You’ve got to learn to do what you’re told and not even try to second guess me.”

I suddenly didn’t want to go home…load in my diaper or not.

We had just gotten out of the car when I heard her phone ding again.  She didn’t even let me get into the house.  Right there in the garage I had to try to mess my diaper again, followed by more time sucking properly.  She didn’t know it of course, but I came so close to shitting my diaper again it wasn’t funny.

We couldn’t go fully into the house until both exercises were over, but once inside, punishment or not, I was glad to be home.  Kimmie disappeared going upstairs to her room with her packages.  The only package I had was the bag with all those bras I didn’t need…or want.  I dropped the bag on my bed, knowing that Kimmie would probably spend some time looking through them later.  I’d already had enough of the bras.  Especially the one I was wearing.

I had just gotten back to the living room and was heading for my chair when Kimmie walked back downstairs.  She saw me heading for my recliner.  “Uh!” she said sharply, stopping me where I was.

The moment she headed forcefully directly toward me I started to panic.  “No!” I wanted to say, which of course came out as “Uoo!”

She grabbed my arm firmly and pulled.  I tried to pull back but she was simply too strong.  She dragged straight over to that cursed corner where she twisted my arm behind my back.  “Down!” she ordered harshly.

Twisting my arm like she was, I cried out in pain and my knees suddenly gave out under me.  I was suddenly down on my hands and knees.  She let go of my arm and I quickly got it under me to help support my body, now on my hands and knees.  She kept one arm around my body, keeping me there like that, while her other hand headed straight for my nose.  I twisted my head around, trying to stop her, but she still caught me.  In moments I felt that metal clamp going in, and her fingers of that hand seemed to be doing something, twisting it I thought.  The clamp grew tighter and soon touched both sides of the septum in my nose.  “Oooo!” I yelled, trying to say no, trying to stop her.  But she kept tightening the thing.

When the tears started to fall from my eyes, she suddenly let go of me, and just grabbed that clamp.  And she pulled it!  Firmly!  Ow!  Ow!  Ow!  It hurt so much I had no choice but to crawl wherever she led me…which was right into that corner and right up to that bracket on the wall.  The moment I got close enough, I felt her pulling up on the clamp, pushing it into the bracket, then she let go.  My nose, my entire head, my entire body was stuck there.  I tried lifting my head to get it out of the bracket, but it didn’t work.  My hands came up to do it instead, but the moment they got near, she slapped them hard.

“No!  Don’t touch!  This is your punishment.  Live with it and learn.”

Learn?  The only thing I was learning was how much pain I was in.

I struggled, but my head was stuck right there, my face practically touching the walls of the corner, and it wasn’t going anywhere.  I was on my hands and knees, like a baby crawling.  Was that on purpose?  Was she trying to tell me something?  I tried to sit, but I couldn’t.  I tried to lay down, but I couldn’t.  Standing was certainly out of the question as well.  I was stuck right there on my hands and knees, and I couldn’t change anything until she decided to release me.

That damn clamp was still hurting enough to keep the tears rolling down my face.  If that pacifier…baby pacifier hadn’t been in my mouth, I’m sure I would have been begging nonstop for her to release me, but I couldn’t get an intelligible word out with it in there.  Not to mention, my blubbering since I was crying so much would have made intelligible words impossible anyway.

The longer I was there, the more my agony seemed to increase.  I’m not ashamed to tell you that before long I was crying like a baby, and that continued for the entire time I was there.  Time itself lost all meaning.  Every second seemed like a minute.  Every minute was an hour.  And my agony only seemed to increase, although in truth, I wasn’t sure if the pain actually changed any at all.  Still, it seemed like it to me.  I hated it!  I hated it!  I hated it!  And all I could do was to stay there and endure.

It was an eternity before she came back.  I knew she hadn’t been far away.  I knew she had watched me the entire time.  She knelt down next to me.  “Are you going to do everything I want, immediately, without asking questions now?” she asked.

“Uh,” was all I could say.  I couldn’t nod my head to give her an answer that way.

“You better!” she replied threateningly.  Then she added insult to the injury.  “Oh, and in case you’re wondering, you earned yourself another day in chastity.  That means it doesn’t come off until next Saturday now.  Saturday night!”

Ugh!

Her hand came up to my nose and I felt her lifting the clamp off the bracket.  That movement alone caused me more pain.  But then it was free and she began twisting it to loosen the clamp.  The moment it was free, I backed away and climbed to my knees, still sobbing like a baby.  I had only one thing on my mind, running to my bedroom, and laying face down on my bed to cry, but my intentions were momentarily interrupted by that same dreaded oddball sound of the timer on the phone dinging.

“Pooping time!” she announced before I could take a step.

Once again I started to push on my system to empty it in a way I didn’t want.  But I barely started when she suddenly said, “Wait!”

I stopped, wondering what now?

“Hold on a second,” she said.

I could see she was considering something.  Whatever it was, I had no doubt I wasn’t going to like it. 

“I think I want to make a small change to what you’re doing,” she told me.

A change?  The only change I wanted was to not do it at all!  Oh, and to get my messy diaper changed…messy baby diaper changed.  We can’t forget that now, can we.

“Okay,” she said.  “I think I want you to pause for a little bit in the middle.”  I wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted, but she suddenly said, “Get ready…go!”  And then she started counting.  “One, two, three…”

I pushed, trying to once again mess myself worse than I already was.  She had said she could tell when I was doing it, and after what she had just done to me, I was going to do whatever she wanted.

As soon as she got to fifteen, she said, “Stop!”

I gratefully stopped, especially since I had been about to drop a load, but I heard her counting again.   She got to five then said, “Go!”  Once again she started counting…and I started pushing…and the shit started coming…and she started laughing while she kept counting.  When she got to fifteen, she told me I could stop again, but I couldn’t stop.  I wasn’t finished messing myself.

“That’s the way I want you to do it from now on,” she told me.  “Every half hour you try to mess yourself twice like that.  Fifteen seconds of pushing, then five seconds to rest, then another fifteen seconds of pushing.  And of course, every hour on the hour you can follow that up with your baby pacifier exercise.”  She suddenly seemed very happy.  “Yeah,” she said.  “I think that should work out perfectly.”  As she walked off, she called behind her.  “You’re lucky,” she said.  “There’s only a little while left before two o’clock, when I can change you.  Enjoy Gramps.  Enjoy!”

And she was gone.  Yeah, I wanted to kill that woman!

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, when she changed me at two o’clock, the pants came off along with the plastic pants, and they stayed off so she could see my diaper again.  That night when we walked the backyard together, when the phone dinged again, I had to try to poop in my diaper while we walked.

The woman was simply impossible!  Not to mention unrelenting.

What was I going to do?  Darn woman!