Gramps - Chapter 4

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 4

 

Several times during the week, Kimmie tried to “talk” me into wearing a diaper all day, and every time I managed to adamantly refuse.  But Friday when I refused she said, “Okay this time, but like it or not, you’re wearing one all day tomorrow, and all day Sunday too.  Like it, or not!”  With that, she turned and left to get ready for school.

She had plans to force me to wear diapers all weekend?  Okay.  Maybe that would be fun.  But it would still be embarrassing.  Especially since she now seemed to want to see me wearing them during the day instead of just at night.

Trust me, come Saturday morning, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to get out of the shower to find her waiting with a fresh diaper already laid out on my bed and a pair of pink plastic pants nearby.  She had warned me, and now she was here to follow through with it.  Oh well.  Hopefully it would be fun.  As she had been doing every night now, I got sprinkled heavily with baby powder before she taped the diaper on me.  And then she grabbed the pink plastic pants.

“Can we do without those things today?” I begged.  “They’re really hot and uncomfortable.”

“Sure,” she replied with a smile.  “Just as long as you agree to stay on the floor and don’t sit on any of the furniture.  We don’t want to take a chance on those things leaking if you wet too much.”

Don’t sit on the furniture?  That would be very uncomfortable.  Especially at my age.  “I’ll put up with the plastic,” I decided.

“Good choice!” she agreed before pulling them up my legs.

Before I could get off the bed, she was suddenly pulling those white tights onto my legs.

“Hey!  What?”

“Don’t bother complaining,” she told me.  “You’re wearing them.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“But…”

“Look,” she said.  “Do I have to remind you again who’s the adult here and who’s the baby?  And if you have any questions about that, just remember which of us is wearing the baby diaper.”

I shut up and let her pull the tights onto my legs.  I was allowed to wear one of my regular shirts and a pair of pants over top of them at least, but then she buckled those shiny black Mary Jane shoes onto my feet…before popping a pacifier back in my mouth.

“There,” she declared happily.  “Now you can’t complain about any of it, can you.  You can run off and play now.  All done.”

Run off and play?  Play what?

Look, wetting yourself at night when you’re in bed, under the covers, and nobody else is around is one thing.  But doing it during the day when someone else is right there in the room with you is something else.  I’m guessing Kimmie could tell I needed to pee and was holding back because she said, “Don’t bother leaving the room if you’ve got to pee.  Just do it.  You already know I expect you to.”

She did have a point.  Trust me, I still found it embarrassing, but the deed was soon done and over with, and my diaper was a bit warmer for a while.  I kept wondering, now that I was wet, if she would change me.  When she didn’t, I chanced pulling the plug from my mouth and asking.  “Uh…Kimmie.  Since I’m wet.  Would you mind if I change my diaper?”

She acted like it was the most bothersome thing in the world.  “Let me see,” she said.  She came over, made me stand up, unfastened my pants and pulled them and my plastic pants down to my knees before groping my diaper thoroughly.  “You’re not that wet,” she decided.  “I think that thing can take a lot more than that.  Get used to it.  Besides, I’m sure those things are fairly expensive.” She pulled my pants back up and refastened them, obviously leaving me in the wet diaper.  Drat!

The real problem however came a little while later when I realized I was soon going to have to worry about something else.  Something with a lot more of a nasty smell to it.  Once again I pulled the plug from my mouth.  “Uh, Kimmie,” I said.  “I need to uh…go.  You know?”

“So?” she replied.  “You’re wearing a diaper, remember?  And you’ve already done it once in front of me.”

“No.  I’ve got to go the…other way,” I told her.  “I’ll be right back.”

“No you won’t!” she said sternly.  “You’re not going anywhere.  You better start getting used to going in those diapers…both ways…all the time.  Now just stay there and watch your game.”

That was not exactly what I wanted to hear.  And no, I won’t admit that I also felt a tiny tingle of excitement over it, along with all the dreaded disappointment and fear.

You know, you can put off pooping for a long, long time.  The problem is though that the feeling of need does nothing but get worse and worse.  That’s what I was fighting with for a good part of the day.  And yeah, I hate to admit it, but it’s a battle I eventually lost.

Late in the afternoon, I started to get up from my recliner, and that’s all it took to force the issue.  And issue is probably the right word for it, as a lot of issue, issued itself out of my backside and into my diaper, which since she had kept it on me all day, was now very wet and bloated.  The feeling of pooping like that was horrible, despite the fact that I had done it before.  But that had been before Kimmie came to live with me, which was a long time ago now.  Consequently, it was like doing it for the first time ever.  Not to mention, it was the first time ever doing anything like that right in front of someone.  But I had no choice.  I was trying to get out of my chair and it all just…let loose.  I couldn’t have stopped it if I tried.  Ugh!  Yuck!  And a lot of other swear words I don’t want to try and write.  I was suddenly very uncomfortable…in a number of ways.

“Uh…I really need that change now,” I told her as I headed for my room.

“No!” she replied with a wicked smile.  “I know what you just did, but I want you to get used to your diapers being that way.  So sit back down and live with it for a while.  I’ll tell you when I think we can change you.”

Sit back down?  Live with it?  What the hell?

“Sit!” she ordered.  “And put that thing back in your mouth.”

I shoved the paci back in and gently eased myself back into my recliner.  Oh yuck!  Eeww!  Gee that’s awful!  Do you understand what I’m trying to say?  It wasn’t nice!  But eventually I was sitting again.

There was a college football game on the boob tube, but I didn’t even try to pay attention to what was going on there.  All I could think about was the state of my diaper, and the fact that I was now sitting in it, and would be sitting in it until you know who decided otherwise.  When did Kimmie decide to get so cruel?

Believe it or not, I started watching the clock.  How long was she going to make me sit in that mess?  I could tell she was enjoying my plight though by the small smiles she gave me once in a while, each time coming close to outright laughing at me.  Women!

An hour and a half!  Trust me, it was every single minute of it, and maybe then some.  But it wasn’t until that long had passed before she decided that “maybe” it was time that we should get rid of that smelly diaper that was now starting to make its presence known past the plastic panties and into the rest of the room.

“One of us smells a bit,” she giggled as she got out of her chair.  “I wonder which one of us it is.”

Would anybody complain if I hit her?

“Come on baby.  “Let’s change your diaper.”

Finally.  Then I realized something.  “You’re gonna change me?” I asked, not believing it.

“Yes.  It’s just shit.  It smells and it’s messy, but it won’t hurt either of us.”

All I could think was that it served her right to change it herself after making me sit in it. 

I put up no fuss at all, believe me.  I did try to get her to let me take a quick shower, which was something that I not only wanted, but also needed.  Not only that, but it would be the fastest and most practical way of dealing with the problem.  I couldn’t believe it when she refused.

“Like I said,” she said.  “It’s just shit.  It’ll clean.”

I was soon lying on my back on the floor of my bedroom, on top of an old plastic tablecloth to protect the world against me and my messy diaper.  I expected her to complain about the smell and the mess, but she never said a word.  She just went about the business of cleaning me up and, dare I say it, she did a pretty good job, and she did it faster than I expected.  It wasn’t long before I was powdered and packed into a nice clean diaper again.  Comfort is not something that can be overrated, trust me!  It was a joy to get back to watching the game again, even with that dumb pacifier filling my mouth.

That diaper lasted until she decided I needed to be changed for bed…a full hour earlier than normal, at nine o’clock instead of ten.  But as soon as I was all dressed for bed, she let me go back and watch TV for another hour.  Why had she decided to change me so soon?  She already knew that my wet diaper could have held a lot more.  It had almost seemed like she had been testing them that morning.

Somehow, our nightly routine had changed, and it had changed without her consulting me on the matter.  Not that I expected I’d have won that argument.  But now I was dressed for bed at nine o’clock every night instead of ten, and I got to watch TV for another hour afterwards.  What had been wrong with putting my night diaper on at ten?  I was missing a good five minutes of the next show!  Women!

Every weekday, she still tried to get me to wear a diaper each morning, and I still refused.  The next weekend though, I wasn’t surprised when she wasn’t taking no for an answer again.  Like last week, I was subjected to a daytime diaper all day with absolutely no access to the toilet, plus my white tights, plus the little girl shoes.  But this time she took me grocery shopping that way again, including the embarrassing shoes!  Wasn’t the diaper and pacifier in my mouth bad enough, including inside the grocery store?  Obviously not.

And yes, she did pull my pants and tights down to my knees inside the store to check the state of my diaper.  Twice!  Talk about embarrassing.  And why, oh why, did she have to keep asking which one of us was the adult and who was the baby?  And while she didn’t raise the volume of her voice to ask, she certainly didn’t lower it either.  I felt like such a fool…such an absolute little kid each time she did it.

Question.  Do little kids get hardons when a grownup pulls their pants down to check their diapers?  Somehow, I doubted that.  If I felt like such a little kid, why was I getting so hard?

Okay lady over there.  Stop looking.  It’s just a diaper, and just some shiny black shoes, and just a pacifier.  Any little kid might be wearing them, right?  So what if I’m not a girl, and I’m not a little kid?  Go back to your business.  Nothing to see here.  Nothing worth seeing.

I might have gotten the hardon (or two) but trust me, Kimmie was the one who was enjoying things the most.  Who’s fantasy game was this supposed to be anyway?  Women!  Oh, I said that already.  Sorry.

All weekend long I stayed dressed that way, and all weekend Kimmie changed my diapers for me each time.  At least whenever they got smelly and messy she didn’t make me sit quite so long in them, but she certainly went out of her way to make sure I stayed in them longer than necessary.

“Get used to it!” she kept telling me.

“Why?”

“Because I said so!”

Women!  Oh.  Sorry again.

I continued to spend my entire weekends diapered, even when she was gone for most of the day.  Of course, she “allowed” me to change myself on those days whenever I needed it, but she always made it a point to check my used diapers in the diaper pail trash to make sure they were well used.  During the week however, while she continued to try and “talk me into it,” I continued to refuse.  The weekends that way were bad enough, especially when she took me out in public that way and treated me like a…um…toddler.  I think I really needed the rest of the week to recover after that, despite being diapered and bottle fed every night for bed.

By the beginning of October, the weather was gradually changing from hot every day to pretty darn cool.  Kimmie occasionally had friends over for a few hours, but so far, only during the week…so far!  Hey!  Friends over was another good reason for me not to be playing with any of that stuff.  And what if she had them over on a weekend when we were…uh…playing?  So far that hadn’t happened.  So far!

  But then came the day when once again she plopped herself down in my lap.

“Hi Gramps,” she said.

“Hi,” I replied suspiciously.  “Is this about you wanting a stupid pony again?”

“Maybe,” she replied with a giggle.  Why do women always giggle so much?

“The answer is still no,” I told her.

“But Gramps,” she mockingly complained.  “Just think, you could get one too and we could go riding around the backyard together.  And ponies would be so cute!  Especially two of them!”

“The answer is still no!” I told her.  “Now what do you really want?”

“Why don’t I ever see you with any friends?  Since I’ve been here, not once has anyone ever come to the house here to see you, and I don’t remember you going to visit anyone either.”

“Mm,” I nodded.  “I guess that’s true.  I haven’t even thought about it.  Kimmie, when Ruthie died, I just didn’t feel much like making an effort to go and see anyone.  And I guess eventually, everyone stopped coming here to see me too.  So…I guess I just lost touch with everyone after that.  But trust me, I really don’t mind, and the truth is I’m still not really interested.”

“Because you’re afraid they might find out about your personal little interests?”

“No!  Because I just don’t feel like seeing anyone without Grams around.”

“Oh,” she replied.  Then she added, “But I’ll bet that at least some of the reason is that you’re afraid they’ll find out about the things you’re into.”

I stared at her for a moment, then conceded.  “Maybe some.  But like I said, I’m just not interested.”

“Some,” she repeated the word I had used.  “I bet it’s a bit more than that.  You still won’t touch any of your things during the week, which to me means that me moving in here is keeping you from enjoying yourself whenever you want.”

“No!  That’s not true!”

“Yes it is!  And I don’t care if you admit it or not, I know it’s true.”

I said nothing.  She wouldn’t listen to me anyway.

She hugged me tightly for a moment and said, “Gramps, do you know how much I love you?”

“I love you too Kimmie.”

“You were always there for me after Dad died.  You were there for all of us.  Whenever Mom needed money, you sent it with no questions asked, and I know it was every single month.  You also helped put me and Keith though college too.  If it wasn’t for you, we would all have been in big trouble.”

“You’re family Kimmie.  That’s what families do for each other.”

“Yeah, which is why I feel so bad about ruining all your fun just because I moved in with you.”

“What, are you trying to tell me that you’re leaving?  You’re going to find your own place to live?  That would be…dumb, when you’ve got practically this entire big house to live in, and the only money we decided you should pay is for half the utilities, which doesn’t amount to very much.”

“No Gramps, I wasn’t planning on moving.  But now that you bring it up, would you rather I found my own place?”

“No!  Not at all.  I…like having you here.  You’re…good company.  And you were probably right.  At my age I don’t really need to be alone so much.”

“Very true,” she agreed.  “I just want you to know how much I care about you, and how much I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me, which is a lot!  And which is why I want you to know that I’ll be trying harder than ever to help you fulfill all those fantasies you have.”

I was dumbfounded.  “You’ll what?”

“I’ll be trying harder than ever now,” she told me again.

“In what way?”

“In every way we’ve done already, and in whatever way I think is going to help you.”

“Help me?  Kimmie, what you do to me on the weekends, especially when you force me to go out that way, is more than enough.  It’s too much!  It’s…ridiculous!  We shouldn’t be doing any of that at all.  I’m amazed nobody has called the cops on us yet.”

“Gramps, trust me, nobody is going to call the police.  What we do isn’t that bad.”

“It’s not?  Kimmie, it’s awful!”

“Gramps, don’t think I don’t know what you do every time you go to bed on those nights.  I know very well what all that embarrassing play does for you.  You’re having lots of fun in bed.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that.  “It’s still not right Kimmie.”

“I guess we’ve got different opinions on that then.  But just know Gramps, I’m going to keep helping you get over your fear of doing any of that stuff all the time or even in front of others.  And I’ll be trying harder than ever, all because I love you so much.”

I shook my head.  “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

She giggled.  “I know.  But hey, you love it!”

 

 

Gramps - Chapter 3

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 3

 

If Kimmie wasn’t in the house, I would have stayed in my thick wet nighttime diaper for a while.  In fact, I would have had breakfast in it before I shed the thing and either put a fresh daytime diaper on, or more likely, just got dressed normally.  But Kimmie was in the house, and that changed everything.  When I woke up the next morning, I didn’t go out of my room until I had showered and changed into all “normal” clothes.  Nothing embarrassing at all.  Only then did I dare open my door and head for the kitchen.

Kimmie barely glanced at me as she went about pouring herself a bowl of cereal.  “Hi Gramps,” she said brightly as she set the box down to start eating.

“Hey,” I replied softly.  I fixed myself a cup of coffee and poured a bowl of cereal.  She was done eating before me.  With a quick hug and kiss, she said, “Bye Gramps.  Have a good one,” and she was gone.  Off to work.

She hadn’t said one single thing about last night.  I was relieved.  Maybe a bit disappointed too.  But mostly relieved.  Last night had been…weird!

I did my best to go about my day of doing nothing much, but the events of last night were constantly on my mind.  I was so tempted to give in and play with my things, but I didn’t dare.  Not after last night.

Maybe it was time for me to get rid of that stuff now before things could get any worse.  It wouldn’t take much at all to just dump it all in the trash,  Or better still, load it all into my truck and drive it to the dump where if anyone should search my trashcan they wouldn’t find it.  Kimmie knowing now was bad enough.  I didn’t want anyone else knowing anything.  Question…would Kimmie tell anyone else?  She was a woman.  I had no doubt that she would.  Today, or tomorrow, or…eventually.  I didn’t doubt that for a second.  Yeah, maybe I’d just load it all in my truck and head for the dump.  I had nothing better to do anyway, and that would be something worthwhile.

So why didn’t I do it?  All my playthings stayed right where they were.

When Kimmie came home later that day, we went about our usual business of getting dinner and watching TV.  Through it all she never said one single word about any of it to me.  I was relieved, but warry.  All that came to an end though as soon as ten o’clock arrived and it was time for me to go to bed.  Once again I got up, intending on saying goodnight, only to find her heading with me to my bedroom.

“Kimmie?” I asked questioningly. 

“Gramps,” she said.  “You’re not going to put up a fuss again are you?  Because I can tell you right now that one way or another, I’m going to fix you up in a nice diaper for the night, so get used to the idea.  And if you behave, maybe I’ll even bring you another baby bottle of warm milk to drink.”  With that, she disappeared from view as she went into my room ahead of me.

Yes, she did put another diaper on me, and she did bring me another bottle of warm milk to drink before kissing me goodnight and turning out the light.  I simply didn’t know what to make of it.

And she did it the next night.  And the next.  And she kept doing it every night after that.  After a few nights, I came to expect it and no longer put up any kind of fuss at all.  I just let her do it all to me.  And you know what?  It was nice, it was kind, it was loving, and it was especially comforting in a way that’s hard to describe.  After a few days, I stopped worrying about it and just enjoyed the attention.  I think I slept pretty well too.

The first surprise came a little over a week later when after diapering me for bed, instead of putting a t-shirt on me, she pulled out a pretty, very short nightgown type thing.  It had flowers and lace all over it and made me feel funny just to look at it, but she put it on me and buttoned the single button behind my head.

“Where did you…”

“Shh!” she hushed me.  “I’ll be right back with your bottle.”

Obviously she didn’t want me asking about it.  I stared at the thing I was wearing.  When I stood up, it didn’t entirely cover my diaper.  I slipped into bed with it myself since she had gone already.  She was back soon with my nightly bottle and finished her usual routine of kissing me and turning out the light.  The little nightgown thing was nothing really.  But it was nice.  She put that on me every night after that, along with my diaper and plastic pants.  It was…nice.

I thought that would be the end of it…she indulging my fantasies by putting me to bed every night, and then being kind enough to never mention anything at all about it the rest of the time.  I certainly would have been content with that.  In fact, the next time I ordered diapers, I only ordered the nighttime ones.  But then, I hadn’t worn any of the daytime diapers since…I couldn’t remember the last time.  They were just sitting in my closet unused, and I was good with it.

I was good with it, but I guess Kimmie wasn’t.

A little over a week later, it was the weekend and she was home for once.  If you’ll remember when this all started, I had been sitting in my chair when she suddenly plopped herself down in my lap.  Once again, I was sitting there when she suddenly invaded my space…and my lap.  She grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

“I’m still not buying you that pony,” I said.

“I told you,” she replied.  “I’m too big for a pony.  I want a horse.”

“I’m still not buying it for you.”

“Gramps, if I want one, I’ll buy it myself.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” she hushed me again.

“What?” I asked.

“Tell me.  Honestly!” she said.  “Do you enjoy me getting you ready for bed every night?"

“Honestly?”

“Yes!”

I considered it, but the answer was easy.  “Yes,” I told her.  “It’s…nice.  Very nice in fact.”

“Good,” she replied, leaning over and kissing my cheek.  “I’m glad.  And I’m glad to do it for you too.  In fact, I really enjoy doing it.  It makes me feel like…I’m closer to you.”

I said nothing to that.

“If you like it though,” she continued, “why don’t you ever wear any of it during the day?”

Her question surprised me.  “How do you know I don’t?”

“Gramps!  I can tell by the wash we do.  I can also tell just by looking in those boxes of diapers that you’re not using them.  In fact, I can tell you don’t touch any of those things at all…ever, except when I put them on you at night.  Gramps, you’ve got more stuff than just those nighttime things.  I know you enjoy all that, why aren’t you doing anything with them?”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” I told her.

“Don’t want to?  Why not?”

“Maybe what you do to me every night is enough for me.  In fact, I can tell you for sure that it’s more than enough.”

She seemed to consider that.  “Maybe,” she conceded.  “But I doubt it.  Gramps, what’s really going on?”

“Nothing,” I told her.  “I’m happy.  Trust me.  More than happy.”

“Then why did you buy all those other things?”

I searched for a good answer.  “Curiosity,” I told her.

“I’m sure that’s true,” she replied.  “But I’m also sure there was more to it than that.  What kind of things go through your mind when you want to wear that stuff…during the day?  All the stuff I don’t pull out for you.  What’s on your mind then?”

“What’s on my mind?”  I shook my head.  “Enjoying myself.  Fantasies.”

“Fantasies?” she asked.  “Like what?”

“Sexual fantasies mostly,” I admitted.

“I already guessed that,” she replied.  “But like what?” she asked again, looking for more detail.

“I don’t know,” I replied.  “I often start out with the intention of wearing all that stuff…uh, the diapers that is, for weeks or maybe months at a time to see how it is.  Try to get myself so used to using those diapers that I’m peeing and pooping in them before I know what I’m doing.  But as I said, it starts that way, but a few hours later, I’m usually ready to get out of the diapers and back to normal life.”

“A few hours?  Always?”

“I think the longest I’ve worn the diapers was like two days, and that was it.  By the morning of the third day, I was done with them.”

“Why?”

“Because…bottom line?  It isn’t right.  I’m not supposed to be wearing any of that stuff.”

“You chicken out,” she said.

“Something like that.  It’s a bit more complicated, but that works.”

“And of course you’re getting off on it too, and then afterwords you lose all interest.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it.”

“Maybe,” I replied.

“Which means, yes.”  She seemed to consider things for a moment then said, “But those fantasies of yours…”

“What about them?”

“Do you still fantasize about doing that?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.  “Maybe.  They’re just fantasies, nothing more.  They’re not practical in the least.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re not.  Now get off my lap.  My legs are going to sleep.”

She giggled, kissed me, and got up.  I rubbed my aching legs to get the circulation started and the pain ended.

She was back two minutes later though.  I was shocked when she tried to shove one of my pacifiers in my mouth.  I brushed her hand away.  “Kimmie!  What are you doing?”

“Hush!” she told me.  “Open up!”  She kept trying to push it through my lips until I opened them enough for her to slip the thing inside.  “Now keep it there,” she said before walking off.

My eyes followed her.  I would have called after her but talking was pretty much out of the question.  Not with that big thing filling my mouth.  Against my better judgement, I kept the pacifier where it was while I picked up the remote and turned the TV back on.  Oh shoot!  I missed another score in the football game.  Darn girl!

Several times that afternoon, I took the pacifier out of my mouth, only to have her walk by a while later and tell me in no uncertain terms to put it back in.  Then she stood there and watched until I complied.  I had to wonder what kind of weird new game she was playing now.  Still, it tickled my fantasies and I didn’t protest…too much.  My only real problem with the pacifier was that every once in a while I had to reach up and wipe the drool off my chin.  But hey, that’s a minor thing.

The next morning, Sunday, I got out of the shower, only to find her in my bedroom waiting for me…with a fresh daytime diaper already laid out on the bed.

“Kimmie.  What are you doing?”

“Stop complaining and lay down,” she told me.  “Isn’t it obvious?”

“But…”

“Gramps!” she cut me off.

Against my better judgment, I laid down on the bed on top of that diaper.  Before pulling it up between my legs though, she shoved a pacifier in my mouth.  “Keep it there!” she said sternly.  Only then did she pull the diaper up and fasten it.  “We’ve really got to get you some baby powder and a few other things,” she mused before grabbing some plastic pants and pulling them up my legs.  “Do you want to wear your tights today and maybe those sweet little shoes with them?  Or perhaps the high heels,” she suggested.

“No!” I tried to say around that big pacifier, which didn’t work very well.

“Just checking,” she replied with a shrug.  “Get dressed.  After breakfast, we need to get some groceries.”

I knew that.  The food supply in the house was getting low.  I also knew that I wasn’t going out of the house sucking on a baby pacifier like an idiot.

As soon as breakfast was over, Kimmie immediately shoved that darn pacifier back into my mouth.  “Keep it there!” she ordered.

I did, but it wasn’t long before she decided she was ready to head to the grocery store.  I tried to take the pacifier out before we got in her car, but she did that stern thing again and ordered me to keep it in.  “You can take it out when we get there.  Maybe.”

I pulled it from my mouth and asked, “But what if anyone sees me sucking on the thing while we’re driving?”

“So what?  Let them.  They won’t know you.  Now just leave it and let’s go.”

Why wasn’t I putting up more of a fight?  I was miffed, but I got into the passenger seat, diaper, plastic pants, pacifier, and all.  At least with all my clothes on, nobody could see anything…except the darn pacifier.  When she parked the car, I pulled the pacifier out.  I could see her watching me unhappily, but she didn’t say anything.  I gratefully got out of the car without it.

I pushed the cart while she filled it.  I didn’t usually go down the baby aisle, but she insisted.  She grabbed two more baby bottles and threw them into the cart.  While there, she teased me by asking if I wanted any baby food or baby formula to drink.  I emphatically said, “No thanks!”  She giggled and we left the aisle behind, but not before she grabbed a large container of baby powder.  Oh great!  As far as I could tell, I had never needed that stuff before, so I didn’t need it now.  In fact, I wasn’t even sure what good it would do at all.  But it was now in the cart, and I knew that soon it would be in my house.  For me to use.  Ugh!

And then, right there in the store, she turned to me and asked, “How wet is your diaper?”  And she didn’t even try to lower her voice or hide what she was asking.

“Kimmie!” I complained.

“How wet…  Never mind.  Let me check.  Babies wouldn’t know the difference anyway.

“Bab…”  Before I knew it, she was trying to unfasten my belt.  “What the hell?” I complained as I shoved her hands aside.

“Hold still!” she ordered.  “I can’t check your diaper unless I pull your pants down.”

“Kimmie!  No!”

“Yes!” She looked sternly into my face.  “Who’s the adult here and who’s the baby?  Huh?  Tell me.”

“What?”

“Which one of us is wearing the baby diaper, huh?  You or me.  You!  Which means you’re the baby here, not me.  Or maybe I should pull your pants down and we can ask the opinion of someone else.”

“Stop!  And don’t talk so loud.”

“I’ll talk any way I like.  Now let me pull those pants down and check your diaper, or trust me, I’ll take them all the way off, and you can walk around in nothing but that diaper for a while.  Nobody would say anything about it since those things absolutely scream that you’re a baby.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“I don’t think so.  In fact, I’m thinking it’s a better idea than ever.  Are you going to let me check that diaper now, or shall we fix it so that it’s easier for me and everyone else in the store to see how wet it is?”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” I said angrily.  Annoyed, I stood there and let her unfasten my belt, unfasten my pants, and pull them down to my knees, exposing the diaper and plastic pants I was wearing underneath.  The plastic pants soon joined my pants at my knees.  Then she groped all over the diaper before pulling everything back up and refastening it all herself while I simply stood there.  Then to add insult to injury, she reached into her purse, pulled out my other pacifier, and stuck it in my mouth.  “Keep it there…baby!” she said sternly as she glared menacingly in my face.

I glared angrily right back at her, but for some reason I never bothered to try and think about, the darn pacifier stayed in my mouth…as we continued walking around the grocery store.  Thirty minutes later, I was never so happy to get out of there in my life!  And yes, that stupid pacifier was still in my mouth.

A few minutes later, she pulled out of the parking lot and started giggling.  “Did you enjoy that?” she asked.  “Did it strike any of your fantasies?”

Only then did I realize what she had been trying to do.

“Did it?” she asked again.

I pulled the stupid big pacifier from my mouth and said, “Can I plead the fifth?”

She laughed.  “Put that thing back in your mouth and keep it there.  And it wouldn’t hurt to suck on it properly instead of chewing on the nipple.  You’ll ruin it before you know it.”

 

Gramps - Chapter 2

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 2

 

No, I didn’t die…yet.  But I certainly wondered if I was on my way, and death was closer than I thought.  Life went on around me.  I didn’t touch any of my playthings for a while after that conversation.  I wasn’t sure how Kimmie really felt about any of it at all.  I did often see her looking at me, more so than she used to.  But she never said another word about it.

It took me two weeks before I had the courage to “play” again.  But I only did it when I knew she was at work, and I was done with it each time faster than usual.  Let me tell you, there was a lot less joy in it for me than there used to be.  It was no longer my personal little secret.  I just hoped that Kimmie wouldn’t blab about it to anyone else…like her mother, or brother, or anyone else in the family.  I didn’t know what would happen if she did, but I had no doubt that I’d hear about it pretty quick, and just that fast they’d probably put me in some kind of home for old crazy people.  Shoot!  Maybe I belonged there.

But I played a bit anyway.  Just me.  Just for a little while each time, and I prayed no one would find out.  Including Kimmie.  It was fun, but not fun.  I worried too much about it.  Still, at my age, a tiny bit of fun is worth…something.

Have you ever been sixty-nine years old and had….  Okay, maybe not.  Let me start again.  Have you ever been sitting comfortably in a chair, reading a book, and suddenly had a full-grown girl plop herself down in your lap and put her arm around you?  I have!  Once settled on my lap, Kimmie leaned over and kissed my cheek.  “Hi Gramps.”

“Hi,” I replied, wondering where this was going.

“How are you doing?”

Instead of answering that, I asked my own question.  “I’m guessing you want something.  A new house?  A bigger allowance?  A pony?  All little girls want a pony.”

She giggled.  “I’m living in a nice big house, I’ve got a good job, but heck, if you want to buy me a…not a pony, I’m too big, but a horse would be nice.  The backyard is big enough for it.”

“Are you going to take care of it?  Are you going to pay to have the entire yard fenced in for it?”

“Uh…not a chance,” she replied.

“Then what is it you want?”

She hugged me again.  “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah.  Sure,” I replied sarcastically.  “It all depends on what you’re trying to get out of me now.”

She giggled again, then said, “Gramps, I feel bad that I took away all your special…um…fun, and that you don’t feel comfortable doing any of it around me.”

“It’s fine, Kimmie.  Trust me.”

“It’s not fine!” she returned.  “So, I’ve decided to help you.”

I was more than a bit shocked.  “Help me?  Help me what?”

“Enjoy your…diapers and stuff.  Do you have any other baby stuff besides diapers?”

“Why do you want to know?  Why should I tell you?”

“Because I want to know.  How can I help you if you don’t…come clean with me.”

Oh brother!  “Kimmie.  I’m fine.  Really!”

“No, you’re not.  And like I said, I feel bad about it.  I’m sure it wasn’t just me grabbing and looking in that box.  I’m sure it all went bad for you the day I moved in here.  I took all your little fun away from you.”

“So what?  It’s fine!  Trust me.”

“I don’t!” she replied.

“You don’t?”

“No.  Not about this.  I need to understand it.  I need to know more about what you do.”

“I thought you had it all figured out.  That you knew everything there is to know about the subject.”

“Hardly!” she admitted.  “So tell me.  What kind of stuff do you have for it?  What do you like to do when you get your things out?”

“Kimmie, it’s personal.  Okay?”

“No!  Not anymore.  Did Grams do this with you?”

I was appalled.  “Heavens no!  It didn’t start till after she was gone.”

“Oh.  Too bad,” she replied.

“Too bad?”

She didn’t reply to that.  “So, where do we start?”

“We don’t start anywhere!”

She looked straight into my face.  With her still sitting on my lap her face was only inches from mine.  “How about we start with dinner?”

She had a knack for confusing me.  “Dinner?”

“Yeah.  It’s time to figure out what we’re going to have for dinner tonight.  Want to help me make it?”

Kimmie liked to cook.  She had even taken several cooking classes.  “Sure,” I agreed.  She got off my lap and headed for the kitchen.  It was a minute before the blood in my legs returned enough for me to get up and follow.  While we went about doing things in the kitchen, I kept waiting for her to bring up the subject of my “hobby” again, but she never said a word.  I prayed the subject was gone now…forever!

My wishful thinking ended the moment we sat down at the table to eat.  “Did you buy more than just some diapers and those plastic pants I saw?” she asked.

“A few things,” I reluctantly admitted.

“Like what?”

“Things!  Personal things!”

“That doesn’t help,” she said before stuffing some mashed potatoes in her mouth.

“It’s not supposed to,” I told her.

“Gramps,” she said.  “I’m guessing you keep everything stuck in your closet somewhere.  Fair warning, after dinner, I’m going to raid your closet…and your drawers…and your bathroom, and anywhere else I think I need to look and find everything you’ve got.”

I was aghast.  “You’re what?”

“Gramps!  You can’t stop me.  I’m not only a lot younger than you, but I’m a Phys Ed teacher, and I’ve got a lot more muscle.  And I will go through your stuff till I find everything.”

“No!”

“Yes!” she insisted.  “Get used to the idea.  I’m going to know, and I want to see it all!”

“No!”

She just looked at me with a mischievous look again as she stuffed more food in her mouth.  I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.  My stomach was in knots!  The two of us glared at each other through the rest of dinner, neither of us saying another word.

Would she really do that?  Shit!  It was Kimmie!  Yes, she probably would.  But it was my stuff.  My personal stuff.  Still, she was a woman, and I was old enough to know that no woman in the world would let anything like that rest until she knew way too much.  The male species had been lost the moment women were invented.

As we always did, we cleaned up the kitchen after eating, but still, my stomach was in knots the entire time.  Once we were done though, she wiped her hands on the dishtowel, turned to me and said.  “Right!  Now let’s get a look at your closet.”

“No!”

She ignored me and headed straight for my room.

“Kimmie.  No!  That’s my stuff!  My personal stuff!”

She just kept walking determinedly, straight into my room, straight to my closet where she opened the door, turned on the closet light and walked inside.  I followed her, but with her in front of me, there was little I could do to stop her from seeing everything.  She looked briefly around for a minute, then turned to me and pushed lightly against my chest.  “Go sit on the bed.  I’ll bring it out.”

“Bring it out?”

“I need to see it,” she argued.  She pushed against me, harder this time.  “Go!”

She pushed me all the way out of the closet before she stopped, then she watched me until I finally, reluctantly, sat down on the bed.  Only then did she turn to go back into the closet.  She didn’t stay there long before she came out with the box of diapers that had arrived recently.  She set it on the bed, then went back and got the second box, the box that held the diapers I had left from my previous order.  Then it was back to the closet again.  She found my little girl shoes, my high heels, my dress and my skirt.  She poked stringently through my closet, not finding anything else before she came out.

But she wasn’t done yet.  She went to my dresser and started nosing through every drawer, finding the two big pacifiers I had bought.  She brought those back to the bed, picking one of them up and trying to press it into my mouth.  I shoved her hand aside and said a firm, “No!”  She giggled and set it on the bed.

She grabbed the entire stack of plastic pants next and set them on the bed.  After that, it took her no time to find the only other two fun items in that drawer, my white tights and the baby bottle.  She said nothing about either of them as she put them on the bed.

Next she went through Ruthie’s dresser, but I had never put anything of mine into her dresser.  I couldn’t.  I couldn’t put any of my stuff in her closet either, a place that Kimmie invaded just as thoroughly as she had my closet.  She only found Ruthie’s things.

“Gramps, you haven’t gotten rid of any of Gram’s things yet,” she noted seriously once she finished.

“Not yet,” I admitted.

“Why?”

“I…can’t,” I told her.  “Not yet.”

She nodded, then came over and hugged me.  When she pulled away she turned to the things on the bed.  “Now!” she said.  “What have we got here!”  It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

The boxes of diapers got emptied, and she asked me a few questions.  I had little choice but to explain that the thick ones were for nighttime use since I pee a lot at night.  The rest were for daytime, when, hopefully, if I needed it, they wouldn’t show under my pants.  She giggled at that and asked if I had ever done that, wear them out somewhere.

“Once or twice,” I admitted, ashamedly.

“Or maybe fifty or sixty times,” she countered laughingly.

I wondered which of us was closer to the truth.  Maybe her.

She tried to put one of the pacifiers in my mouth again, and I refused again.  She tried to get me to put the high heels on so she could see me walk in them.  My refusal was more adamant than with the pacifiers.  And then she called my Mary Jane shoes…darling, holding them up like she thought they were pretty or something.  She was a girl, and girls knew how to tease.  She certainly did.

“And I guess you won’t try on your skirt or dress for me either,” she said.

“Not a chance!” I told her firmly.  “Are we done now?  Can we put it all away?”

“Done?” she replied as if she was considering that.  “Maybe.  For now anyway.  But not forever.  Maybe not even for long.  Here,” she said.  “I’ll help you put it all away.”

Finally!

Five minutes later I was alone in my room, still trying to make sense of the fact that she now knew so much about me.  Was it good that she hadn’t berated me for it?  I wasn’t sure.  In some ways I felt let down that she hadn’t yelled or at least told me how sick I was.  She hadn’t even suggested I needed to see a therapist or something.  Then I realized, she hadn’t said that yet.  She hadn’t done any of those things…yet.  Was it coming?  As I said, in some ways I felt let down that she hadn’t yelled at me or even gotten the least bit upset.  To me, it only made sense that she would…except, she hadn’t.  Yet.

Sitting in my room alone wasn’t doing anything for me, physically or mentally, and especially not mentally.  Was I ready to go out of the room and face her?  I could hear the TV running in the living room, so I knew she was out there, but was I ready to go out there with her?  I realized that like it or not, eventually I would have to see her, I couldn’t stay locked up here in my room forever.  Or could I?  Bowing to the inevitable, I headed out to the living room.  What new monstrosities would she throw at me now that she knew all that she did?

In the living room, she barely glanced at me as she continued to watch her show.  I could tell she was avidly into it.  I sat in my recliner and tried to watch it with her, but my mind was more on what had just gone on in my bedroom.  How could she be so casual about it?  How could she now act like nothing at all had happened in there?  But then, she wasn’t the one with the sick problem.  I was.

We continued to watch TV together, her having no problem with it, but I could only get my mind into the shows for brief periods of time.  But all that came to a screeching halt when our usual shows ended at ten o’clock.  In fact, my life nearly came to a halt as well.

I wasn’t one of those late-night people.  I went to bed at ten every night.  I was very much a creature of habit that way.  But this time, when I got out of my chair to say goodnight and go to bed, she was already heading towards my bedroom.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“This-a-way,” she replied offhandedly as she continued to head straight for my bedroom.

Inside the room, she glanced over her shoulder as she headed straight for my closet.  “Get undressed,” she said before turning her attention back to what she was doing.

“What?”

“Get undressed,” she replied, now from inside my closet.

I couldn’t fathom that.  “What are you doing?”

She came out a moment later with one of my diapers.  I could already see from how thick it was that it was one of my nighttime diapers.  “Kimmie.  What…”

“Hush!” she said sternly.  “Lay down,” she added as she pointed at the bed.

“What?”

“Lay…down!” she said sternly.

“Why?  Kimmie…”

“Ssh!” she hushed me before pushing against my chest and backing me up until my legs hit the bed.  She continued to push until I fell over backwards on it.  She grabbed my legs, picked them up and swiveled them over onto the bed until I was lying on top of it.

“Kimmie…stop!”

“No!  Now lay still and let me undress you.”

“Do what?  Hell no.  Stop it!” I said as she pulled at my shirt to take it off me.  I started flailing to stop her, but she just kept pushing my arms and hands out of the way.

“Gramps, you either lay there and let me do this to you, or I’m going to tie your hands up and do it anyway.”

“No!”

“Yes!  Now lay still!”

With that, she shoved my arms forcefully away again and glared menacingly into my face.  I didn’t know what to make of it, but for some reason, I did nothing but glare back at her.  I never realized it until it was too late, that I was no longer trying to stop her.  In two minutes, I was butt naked on the bed before her, and she was spreading that nighttime diaper under my butt.

“Do you have any baby powder or diaper rash ointment?” she asked.

“No!” I replied somewhat angrily.

She nodded, and seconds later the thick diaper was taped firmly around my hips.

“Stay!” she ordered.

I wondered what new affront she was going to bring at me now.  I didn’t have to wait long to find out as she went to my dresser and came back with a pair of pastel yellow plastic pants.  They soon were pulled over top of my diaper.

“There!” she said.  “No nightgown?  No pretty pajamas to wear over that?”

“No,” I told her.  “Nothing.  I just put a t-shirt on and be done with it.”

She nodded before she went to my dresser and grabbed a t-shirt.  I sat up on the bed, intending on taking it from her, but she insisted on putting the thing on me.  She had dressed me in the diaper, plastic pants, and now my t-shirt.  I felt like a dumb little kid.  I certainly felt stupid.

“Can I go to bed now?” I asked sarcastically, ready for her to leave me alone.

“Sure Gramps,” she replied.  She helped me get into the bed properly and pulled the covers over me.  Then she stared down at me for a moment.  “No nighttime baby bottle?  Or…”  She looked over at my dresser where my baby bottle was before turning back to me.  “You want me to fix you one?” she offered.

I was shocked, but the warm night baby bottles were a favorite thing of mine.  She didn’t need to know that though.  The problem was, I took too long before I told her no. 

“You do!” she exclaimed as she realized I did want one.  “Do you do that a lot?”

“Kimmie.  No.  Just…let me go to sleep.”

Instead, she hurried over to my dresser and grabbed the bottle.  “Be right back,” she said excitedly before hurrying out with it.

Ugh!  What was happening?  This was so embarrassing!  She was back a few minutes later with a baby bottle.  I could see through the plastic that it held milk.  I tried to reach for it but she held it back and pressed the nipple right against my lips.  I kept my mouth sealed against it though…for a few seconds, only to relent and let her push the darn thing in.  Only then did she let me grab the bottle myself.  It was warm.  She had put it into the microwave for me.  I automatically started drinking, and she automatically started giggling.  Ugh!  I stopped drinking purposely and pulled the thing from my mouth, but she put her hand down and pushed it back again.  She held it there until I started drinking again.

“Enjoy it Gramps,” she said softly.  Then she leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.  “Night,” she whispered.  With another soft giggle, she turned out the light and was gone, closing the bedroom door behind her.  In moments I heard the soft sounds of the TV running again.

As I laid there drinking my nice warm bottle, my mind raced over all the strange things that had happened.  What was I supposed to do about it?  As far as I could see, nothing.  At least, not yet.  I would just have to see what developed in the future.

The bottle was warm and comforting in my mouth.  One of my favorite things.  The thick bulk of the diaper she had put on me was familiar from the many nights I had already worn them.  In some ways, things were back to normal for me.  Then I thought again about Kimmie.  No.  There was nothing normal about that situation at all.  What was I going to do about it?

With my stomach remaining knotted over the events and the new situation, I finished my bottle, rolled over, and tried to sleep, even though I knew I’d never be able to sleep with all the turmoil running through my head.

I felt the need to pee and barely held it back at all.  I don’t remember much after that.  With a warm wet diaper and warm wet milk in my tummy, I fell asleep.

 

Gramps - Chapte 1

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 1

 

A slight noise outside caught my attention.  I hurried to the front door and opened it.  I saw a delivery man just climbing back into his truck.  But there, in front of me, right in front of my door, was a box.  My breath caught and my spirit soared.  It had arrived!  I knew it was coming today and I was watching and waiting for it desperately.  And now it was finally here.

I carried the box inside and all the way to my bedroom where I set it down on my bed.  A few swipes of a knife cut the packing tape and I opened the box.  There, inside, I pulled away the paper packing material to expose two small packages of hard bubble wrapped plastic.  I grabbed them and looked at them carefully.  I wished they were a bit more girly, but that was okay.  They were the best the store had to offer in the way of adult sized pacifiers.  I was already looking forward to unpacking them and sticking one in my mouth.

But now my attention was more riveted on what was underneath the two extra-large pacifiers.  Adult diapers.  Adult baby diapers to be exact.  I had never ordered any before, and just starting out I had taken the time to contact the store to get their advice.  They had offered to put together a sample package for me of diapers I could try.  There was a section of the box that held larger, fatter diapers, the ones I had asked for to use at night, but the rest of the box held regular diapers that I could already see were each covered in nursery prints.  I noticed a lot of pink on the diapers, but then, when they asked me about it, I had been brave enough to specify that I would prefer diapers for a sissy baby.  That would be me.  A sissy!  Despite the fact that I was pretty much just starting out…oh, and that I was sixty-nine years old.

Okay, okay!  I wasn’t just starting out, even though I was.  Is that confusing?  It really isn’t.  Let me explain.

As I said, I was sixty-nine years old when all this started.  Old enough to know better than to be doing anything like this.  But the truth was, I was also old enough to no longer care.  It was my life and I wanted to do what I wanted with the time I had left.  The sad part was that my wife of almost forty years had died several months prior, and her passing hurt me more than I can explain.  But at the same time, it also freed my mind.

With my wife gone, I no longer had to worry about her ills and problems, and it left me free to exercise and indulge in an ancient fantasy of mine.  Uh…two fantasies that I discovered many people on the internet had managed to combine into one.  The first fantasy?  I loved…okay, I was interested in dressing in women’s clothes.  All kinds of women’s clothes.  Not only that, but clothes for any age women from young girls up to…uh…I guess my age.  That’s fantasy number one, but fantasy number two was more embarrassing.  Fantasy number two was that I wanted to try wearing diapers all the time like a baby.  Maybe even try going incontinent for a few weeks…or maybe even a few months.

And then on the internet I discovered what was now something called a sissy baby.  Combining both my fantasies into one – being babyish, and being girlish at the same time.  Kind of being a baby girl, or, a sissy baby as the term had been coined.  So I guessed that must be me.  A sissy baby.  If the shoe fits, wear it.  And, uh, I wanted those shoes to fit!  Especially if they were girl’s shoes…heels or flats, I didn’t care.  I was just interested in and dying to try it all.

Yeah, yeah, it’s dumb, I know.  But hey, it was my life, and after sixty-nine years, I felt like I had the right to do anything I wanted…as long as it didn’t hurt anyone else.  But trust me, I was planning on this being my own little private interest, so I saw even less wrong with it than I’m sure anyone else would.  Okay?  Hey, that’s where this story starts.  Or maybe not.

I guess I should tell you that my name is Bill.  William actually, but everyone always calls me Bill, and I prefer Bill.  It’s friendlier.

About ten years ago, my wife Ruthie and I took a trip from our home up in Maryland, down here to the hills of Tennessee.  Long story short, we fell in love with the place.  Enough that we came back time after time.  Eventually, we bought a nice house on a large piece of land outside of Johnson City in the northeastern part of the state.  Heaven!  Our planned retirement home for as soon as we could both retire.

Eventually, retirement reached us each at close to the same time and we were off!  Away from the rat race of fast-paced Maryland life and down here to the quiet hills and trees in Tennessee.  We left our friends and family behind and simply soaked up the quiet slower pace of things in our new home.  As I said, heaven!  Until my wife got sick.

The cancer came quickly and seemed to take her even quicker.  The devastation that hit me over it was almost more than I could take.  But while she was now gone, I was still alive.  As the kids all told me, don’t lay down and die Gramps!  Uh…that’s what everyone called, me.  Gramps.  We had seven grandkids, and since they all called me Gramps, and my wife Grams, even our kids started calling us that.  As I got older, the name Gramps seemed to define me more than I ever thought it would.  I wore the name proudly!  Still do, despite what my life has now become.

Anyway, after Ruthie died, the old…and by old I mean ancient…fantasies began filtering their way into my head once again.  Fantasies that had only existed when I was much younger.  Yes, yes, they existed all my life, but every time those fantasies surfaced, I was able to push them away.  I’m proud of that.  But with Ruthie gone, I was suddenly alone, and I no longer needed to push them away.  So I…uh…indulged a bit.

The first thing I did was to buy some of those cheap incontinence briefs that the drug stores carry.  Modified adult diapers I guess.  At least that’s what I hoped they were.  I bought my first package of them about a month after Ruthie passed.  Hey, there’s an awful lot of people my age and younger who wear the darn things all the time.  There was no shame at all in buying them, even though, yes, I did feel not just a thrill when I bought them, but more than a bit of embarrassment as well.  Unfounded embarrassment.

I began wearing those cheap lousy things occasionally instead of my regular underwear.  I even experimented a few times with wetting them and once or twice (or more) messed in them as well.  Yuck!  But hey, it was my fantasies.  Fantasies that I was enjoying so much that I even got up the nerve to buy a baby pacifier while I was in one of the stores.

And then several months later, I got up the nerve to email one of those adult baby specialty stores and I asked their advice about what would be the best kind of real adult baby diapers I could buy.  I have to say, whoever wrote me back was very kind and understanding.  Something I was very happy about.  And so I eventually had a box of real adult baby diapers sitting on my bed.  Some of them for nighttime use, the rest for daily wear.  Oh, and two adult baby pacifiers to stick in my mouth as well, just to fill out the fantasy a bit more.  I had a feeling that they would be much better for me to suck on than those baby ones I had actually been trying to use.

I think that about brings us up to date now with where I started.  At least I hope it does.  Just to recap.  Wife died.  Family all went home to Maryland where they belonged.  My life got quieter than I ever imagined.  And I was alone here in Tennessee.  Alone with a new box of adult baby diapers.  Yeah, we’re back to where I began this thing.

I was happy…even without Ruthie.  Happy because I had a new hobby to indulge myself in.  Nobody knew about it but me, and that’s the way I wanted it.  I tried each of the diapers in that box, carefully making notes about each kind so I could find the ones I liked the best.  When the box reached about the halfway point, I ordered more adult baby diapers, one full package of the best brand of night diapers, two packages of the daytime diapers I liked the best, and one package of different ones that the store recommended I should try.  So, four full packages this time.  I also ordered three pairs of plastic pants that they recommended in case my diapers leaked.  I had already been through that problem and had to clean it up from one of my chairs.  Oh, and the store also had some little girl Mary Jane style shoes that I ordered in a nice shiny black, just to indulge the other fantasy of mine.

While I waited for my next order to arrive, I was brave enough to wear a diaper under my clothes while I was out grocery shopping.  Just for kicks, I stayed in the supermarket long enough until I was able to wet the thing slightly.  Then I finally checked out and got the hell out of there.  While I was in there though, I bought myself a baby bottle and a gallon of milk along with my other groceries.  On the way home I stopped quickly into the pharmacy and grabbed a package of white tights to go with those new shoes I had ordered.  Now I just needed them to arrive.

Two days later, they were on my doorstep.  Ten minutes after that, the tights were on my legs, and the shoes were on my feet.  I was so happy with them that they stayed on my feet for the rest of the day…and the next day…and…okay, I wore them whenever I could, which was pretty much permanently unless I left the house.

Um…I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I quickly discovered that drinking warm milk from a baby bottle in the evening before bed was a very relaxing thing.  I mean, it was just nice.  Since it was so nice the first time, I made sure to do it every night.  During the day, drinking anything from the baby bottle was just frustrating.  You couldn’t get any liquid out fast enough.  But lying there on my bed, ready to go to sleep, I was just able to relax and enjoy the experience.  I think having to be patient to get everything out of the bottle forced me to relax.  Overall, so far, believe it or not, my nightly warm bottles were one of the highlights of my little experience.

No.  I didn’t wear the diapers all the time.  I wanted to.  I tried to.  But after a few hours each time, or at the very most, a few days, I would give up.  I often put one on in the morning, then by afternoon I’d had enough of it and off it would come.  The little girl shoes though, those I enjoyed.

I ordered a dress, and a skirt.  I even ordered a pair of high heels.  All of my things, well, most of them, I bought online.  No use having people wondering about what I was doing.

And I was happy.  Happy with all of it.  Happy with my entire life.

Until the phone rang.

“Hi Gramps!”

“Kimmie!  How are you?” I replied, recognizing the voice of one of my granddaughters, Kimberly.

“Great.  Gramps, I’m here in Johnson City.  Mind if I stop by?”

“You’re here?  In Tennessee?  In Johnson City?  I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“I had a job interview here,” she said.  “I’ll be there in ten minutes to tell you about it.”

“Uh…great!” I replied nervously.  “See you then.”

I ended the call and made a mad dash for my room to remove every last vestige of anything weird from my body, which included a diaper, plastic pants, white tights, and those shoes I adored.  Then I hid everything in the closet where nobody could ever see it.  The doorbell rang before I was finished hiding it all, but it was close enough.

I welcomed Kimmie in and we headed for the kitchen where we both put pods in the coffee machine before sitting down at the kitchen table.  “A job interview,” I said.  “Here?  You didn’t even tell me you were coming?”

“I didn’t get here until just before my interview,” she told me.  “It was kind of last minute.  Sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine!” I told her.  “I’m happy that you called.”  Sort of.  “So how did your interview go?  Where was it?”

“Johnson City High,” she told me.  “And Gramps,” she said excitedly.  “I got the job!  And I’ll be the head coach for the girl’s softball team…along with teaching some other classes.”

“Fantastic!” I congratulated her.  “So you’re going to be around here all the time,” I realized.

“Uh…Gramps,” she said.  “Mom and a few others in the family kind of thought it might be a good idea if, instead of getting my own place, if I moved in here with you.  You’re all alone and at your age, they all think it would be better if someone was here with you.”

“Um…”  But she was my granddaughter, and I couldn’t let anyone know about the things I was recently into.  “Sure.  I guess,” I replied.  “Even though, trust me, I’m fine!  I’m doing fine all by myself.  But if you want to save some money then, you know I’ve got some unused bedrooms upstairs.  Heck!  You can have the entire upstairs to yourself…as long as you keep it clean, so I don’t have to go up there.”

She came out of her seat and hugged me tightly.  “Gramps!  You’re the best!”

Yeah, sure.  So much for my personal fun.  At least I was able to enjoy it for a little while.  It had been fun though.  Not to mention, interesting.  More so than I ever thought it would be.

“When do you start?” I asked.

“When school starts in August.  I’ll probably move down here pretty soon though so I can get settled in and find my way around the area.”

Soon!  Like I said, so much for my personal fun.  It was time to take all that fun stuff I had bought and throw it out…somewhere where she would never see it.

Funny thing.  When it came to throwing all that stuff out, I couldn’t.  I just couldn’t!  Besides, she wouldn’t be there all the time.  I could still play with it while she was teaching.  Not only that, but if I just “happened” to wear a diaper under my pants, she’d probably never even know it.  And if she did notice, I could always tell her that I was having…uh…problems.  Didn’t a lot of people my age have problems like that?  I was sure of it.  So…no problem, and no need to get rid of any of it.  I just made sure it was all well hidden in the back of my closet.  Besides, how many times had I started out with the intention of “playing” for a long time…months maybe…only to rip it all off that first afternoon.  Many, many times.  It was all fantasy after all.

So I kept it.  Every bit of it.  Not that there was really that much.

I can tell you that in the few weeks between then and the time she actually moved down, I played a lot!  And I mean a lot!  As if I was trying to get my fill of it all at one time, because I knew that very soon all my fun would be over.

And eventually, it was over.  Another car graced my garage along with my pickup truck, my upstairs was no longer completely unused, and I was no longer alone.

It wasn’t long though before I yearned to be alone again, much more than I imagined I would, just so I could play again.  How could I miss something like that so much?  I had to be sick!  Well, I suspected that.  Just look at the stuff I was into.

In the days before school started for Kimmie, I never once touched my things, although I certainly thought about it more than I imagined I would.  Still, I never once dared to pull any of it out of hiding, even though there were things I could probably get away with.  But once she was gone every day, off teaching school, things were different.  It was less than a week before I began pulling things out and wearing them and…playing.  Enjoying myself.  But I made sure to have everything put away long before she got home every day.

Things went on like that for a couple of weeks.  Kimmie would be gone all day, then come home and we’d make dinner together.  Eventually though, she started making friends and would go out in the evenings with them.  I was alone more often, but that kind of alone wasn’t the privacy alone that I needed to play in.  It was all so frustrating!  Still, I enjoyed those times when I could play while I knew she would be gone teaching school all day.  I told myself often that that much alone was more than enough for me.

And of course, the more I played, the more my stash of diapers began to go down.  Eventually, I needed to make the decision as to if I should order more or simply pack everything in.  Was it a mistake?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  The jury is still out.  But I did go ahead and place an order for more diapers, both nighttime and daytime, along with more plastic pants to make sure there would be no telltale stains either on the furniture or on my pants in case of a leak…and in case I decided to tempt fate and wear a diaper under my pants while Kimmie was around, which I’m sorry to say I was tempted to do many times, but never actually did.

I’ve known for many years that fate is a fickle thing.  You never know what it’s going to do.  Remember that order I just talked about?  It got delayed somewhere.  I waited, and waited for it.  But for some reason it never arrived.  I tracked it, and I could see it was in a warehouse somewhere not that far away.  They could have it to me in a day!  But it never seemed to arrive.  Kimmie was off teaching school, and I was home playing by myself.  And my package of replacement diapers and plastic pants was stuck somewhere in limbo.

Kimmie didn’t teach school on Saturdays, but she did often have softball practice or games.  I was home one Saturday, doing nothing more than watching TV when I heard, “Gramps!  I’m home!”

I turned and watched her walking in from the garage…with a large box in her arms.  A box I had no doubt in the world what was in it.  My package had arrived, and somehow, she had gotten it.

“I found this blocking the garage,” Kimmie explained as she put the box on the kitchen table.

“I’ll get it,” I told her quickly as I jumped up to grab the thing and hide it away.

But Kimmie wasn’t listening.  She started talking, telling me all about how the practice game went that day while she sliced the tape on the box open with nothing more than a long fingernail.

“Kimmie!  Don’t!”  I said as I hurried over to get the box.

She was still talking.  Still engrossed in whatever happened during that game as she pulled the packing material aside, and she suddenly stopped talking.  “Huh?”

“I’ll take that,” I said as I reached for the box.

But she was standing in front of it, blocking me from getting to it.  I saw her reach in and pull out the packages of pastel colored plastic pants.  She threw them on the table and then started pawing through the packages of diapers.  She turned toward me.  “Gramps?”

“Just leave it be Kimmie,” I told her.  “It’s mine.”

With that, I pushed my way through to the box, put the plastic pants back into it, picked it up, and carried it to my bedroom closet.  Damn!  Of all the luck!

I stayed in my room, sitting on my bed, wondering how I was going to handle that problem.  My plan?  Say nothing and just hope she didn’t say anything about it either.  But that plan didn’t pan out.  It was over the moment she walked into my bedroom.  From the start I had no doubt she would show up there.

“So what’s up Gramps?” she asked.

“Don’t ask Kimmie,” I said.  “Just…don’t ask.  Okay?”

Evidently though, it wasn’t okay.  She came in and sat on the bed next to me.  “Gramps,” she said softly.  “Whatever it is, it’s okay…okay?  Let’s talk.”

Why did women always want to talk about things?  I didn’t.  I said nothing.  I didn’t even look at her.

When I didn’t say anything, she said, “I’m guessing you like that stuff?”

I still said nothing.  Still didn’t look at her.

She waited, giving me a chance to answer before she finally said, “Gramps, it’s okay.  Now, do you like the adult baby stuff?  Are you into that?  Or is it something else?  The stuff in that box wasn’t the usual things you can buy in any drug store for incontinence problems.  From what I saw, it all had pretty cartoon characters on it, and it was made for people who are into the adult baby thing.”

I turned my head skeptically and looked at her.  “Adult baby thing?  How would you know about anything like that?”

“Gramps!  I majored in Physical Education.  Plus, I minored in psychology.  I’ve come across more stuff than you would ever believe.  And believe it or not, the adult baby stuff is a lot more common than most people would think.  So is that all it is?  Because like I said, it’s okay.  You’re allowed.”

“Allowed?” I replied.

“Gramps!  You’re…how old are you now?  Sixty something?  Around seventy?”

“Sixty-nine.  I haven’t reached seventy yet.  Except today I skipped over my seventies and went straight to eighty!  Or ninety!”

She giggled and gave me a brief hug.  “My point is, you’re an adult and…”

“Yeah.  An adult playing at being a baby!”

“So?  Maybe…maybe…”

“Maybe what?” I asked sarcastically.

“Maybe, at your age, it helps you feel…younger.  Does it?”

I considered that.  “Maybe,” I conceded.  I considered it some more.  “Maybe more than I thought.  I never considered it before.”

“At your age, I would think it’s nice to feel a bit younger.”

“Huh!  You have no idea!”

“I know the older people get, the more aches and pains they have to put up with.  The older they get, the lonelier they often feel…and unneeded.”

“Did I just mention that you have no idea?”

She hugged me again, then kissed my cheek.  “Gramps.  I love you.  If you want to play with stuff like that, it’s your business.  Go ahead.  Play all you want.  Feel younger.  Feel better.  Enjoy yourself.  You’re sixty-nine years old for heaven’s sake.  Enjoy yourself.  Heck, since Grams died, I’ve never seen you do anything else to get some enjoyment out of life.”

“You haven’t lived here that long.”

She seemed surprised.  “What else do you do for enjoyment?  Since I’ve been here all you do is sit and exist, day after day.”

“What else do I do?  Plenty!”

“Good.  Like what?”

I considered that, then admitted, “A lot of nothing.  Since Ruthie…Grams passed, I’ve had nobody around and nothing seems worth doing.  And don’t ask me why, but this just…I don’t know.”

“Caught your fancy?”

“Something like that.”

She giggled again.  “Like I said, it’s okay.  Don’t bother hiding it away.  Enjoy it all you want.”

She gave me another hug and another kiss on the cheek then got up and headed for the door.  Before going out she stopped and turned with a mischievous smile on her face.  “By the way,” she said, “I’d die to see one of those diapers on you!”  With a  laugh, she turned and was gone.

She’d die?  How about me?