Ron & Roddy (Diapers)
Daddy, who was my real father, was co-manager of a local gym. Actually, I had met him after we met on a fetish social networking site in April. Without going into details involving our nicknames and the extent of our flirtations, we decided to meet at his workplace. I decided to make things worthwhile and dress in my exercise clothes. Of course, for him, I wore a diaper underneath -- but it was definitely a challenge for me to exercise in one. I decided to save the baby clothes for another day, and walk into the gym as simply another customer who needed to lose some weight and gain some muscle.
He knew who I was. We exchanged pictures. We first met after he saw a picture of mine and wrote something like, "Cute tiger," and it was just a photo of me standing on a pier, posing for the camera. It wasn't anything special, but he took a liking to the photo. I thought he was being somewhat disingenuous because I thought he was one of those guys that would say or do anything to get in a younger guy's pants. I've dealt with those people before, and I was a little abrasive toward him at first, but it was refreshingly clear to me that he preferred to have a conversation that wasn't about top or bottom, wet or dry, young or old. He just wanted me to visit the gym, say "Hello!" and see what came after that.
Roddy was someone who I'd call a "gray muzzle." He was older than me, and in his late 40s. He was a tall -- and obviously well-built because he ran a gym, after all -- and unusually handsome. By "unusually," I mean that he's well-shaven and very considerate of his outwardly appearance. That made me even more intrigued about his "daddy" side. When I walked past the gym's office, I caught a glimpse of him sitting at his desk, working on his computer and looking tranquil. I debated on whether I should work the weights, or let him conduct his business without interruption. I quickly decided to walk past the office, and not act suspiciously by quietly standing in the office doorway.
I tried my hand at the seated row machine, and wasn't that successful. Given that I rarely go to any gym, I had no experience using that machine, but I naively assumed I could figure it out as I waited for Roddy to finish his business. I tried my best to not look like a fool, but I caught a few people staring at me with raised eyebrows. I knew I was in trouble. I stopped, took a deep breath, and stretched my arms. Suddenly, someone from behind was giving me instructions on how to use the machine -- and everything started to make sense. When I turned around to thank the person helping me, I discovered that it was Roddy. He had a wide smile, and was swishing his tail playfully.
He patted me on the back and said, "Truth be told, I don't mind boys who are a little pudgy -- I mean, not a whole lot, but y'know."
"Sarcasm aside, I'm looking to shed some pounds anyway," I replied.
"Ron, mind if we head back to the office, and talk about your 'membership'?"
"Sure, no sweat."
I sat down at his desk and felt my crinkly bottom slide comfortably into the leather chair. The leg gathers were a little uncomfortable, but I was distracted enough to address that concern later. Roddy rested both of his paws over the desk, and calmly adjusted himself in his seat. I thought, "Maybe he's wearing a diaper too," but continuing to entertain such thoughts got me horny. I wanted to sit quietly in my seat and listen to what he had to say. He asked me to close the door behind me and shut the window blinds, which I did. He looked at me silently for a moment, and he was obviously checking out my body. I was counting down the seconds before the silence between us became "awkward." Fortunately, the silence didn't muster enough suspense to "ackwardness," and I was grateful.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Ron," said Roddy as he offered his paw.
I shook it. "Yeah. Likewise."
"So, tell me about yourself."
"What is this? A job interview?" I asked cheekily.
Roddy laughed. "Oh no, it's not like that. And besides, hiring someone pudgy like you would not make the gym look good."
I was caught off guard by his teasing. "Excuse me?"
"Don't mind me. I have a dry sense of humor."
"Ironic for you to use the word 'dry,'" I countered with my brand of humor.
"Zing! I like that," he said, pointing at me.
I figured that I'd tell him more about me. I told him that I worked at a video game store as a sales associate working on slightly-above-average wages, and dignity was not a virtue that I associated with my occupation. He told me that he liked playing the Atari 2600 and the Commodore 64. He said he liked games such as Frogger, Pitfall, Ghosts & Goblins, and Spy Hunter. Being a gamer, I was familiar with those titles, so I was appreciative that he tried to relate to me in that way. He praised me for, at least, finding and working a job selling inventory that I'm passionate about.
"That's cool," Roddy concluded. "You know about me, stuff like that. We've talked over..."
"Yeah. You run a nice gym here, though. That's a step up from selling video games to acne-ridden, pre-teen snobs, I'm sure."
"Don't be too harsh. Some of us were acne-ridden, pre-teen snobs at one point. Then we grow, but in a daddy-son relationship, the son never 'grows,' per se. He's always the one that needs a diaper change from daddy."
I was curious about his comment. "I've never been in a daddy-son relationship. I know we talked about it before, but what is that like?" I asked Roddy.
"You're the baby, and I take care of you," he replied, smiling at me. I took his overly simplified explanation to be mildly condescending.
"So what you're saying is... I'm the baby? All the time?"
"Yes sir! Big diaper-boy, 24/7. Toilet is forbidden. You get a crib, clothes, and a daddy that will treat you right."
My mind started racing. It was something that I always fantasized about, but I never imagined that it could be applied in real life. I always wanted to be in a crib, laying helplessly on my back, waiting for someone to change me as I rested comfortably on a fluffy bed. I couldn't even begin to speculate on the numerous activities I could do with a daddy. The problem was that I couldn't visualize being diapered 24/7. My body wasn't conditioned to "use" a diaper at all times. I heard about "toilet-detraining," but I was concerned about the level of commitment. In order to be diapered 24/7, I had to change and sacrifice a lot of things. I had to change what I wore, tell people that I wore diapers and not be ashamed to say so. I had to take diapers everywhere I went, and be comfortable with the changes that my body would go through. I thought that hypnosis would make everything possible. Just thinking about all the necessary steps made me sweat. I curled my tail a few times instinctively. Roddy knew I was nervous.
"I can understand that you're nervous," he told me. "It's a big change."
"You'd basically help me do all of this stuff?"
"Absolutely. It's not a big deal, really. It's fourty dollars a day with meals and diapers included."
Roddy never mentioned costs to me since our discussions revolved around creating a relationship. However, it was hard for me to find price discussions as offensive or misleading. If someone were to take care of me all the time, the expense would be no laughing matter. I didn't want Roddy to think I was some sort of "freeloader," so I simply nodded as if I expected costs to be associated with the daddy-son relationship. At the same time, I didn't want to think that the could only be a business-only relationship. I was hoping there would be some sentimental attachment between us. The more I thought about everything, the more intimidated I became.
"That's cool," I mumbled. "I just think it's strange that, well, I thought maybe we could get to know each other..."
"Of course we can!" Roddy exclaimed. "I'll tell you what. Sleep on it, and get back to me."
I stood up, shook his paw, and left the office under the impression that we were erring on the side of pleasure more than business. I felt a little betrayed, though. I was hoping for a situation that was more along the lines of a date or something romantic, but it obviously didn't end up that way. I was still physically attracted to him, and knowing that he was comfortable with being a "daddy" or a caretaker. I needed someone like a "daddy," and I was reminded of that need when I peed in my diaper. I had wet myself while I was sitting down in Roddy's office. I didn't notice it at first, but I felt my diaper getting wetter and warmer. When I rose from my seat, my diaper was definitely heavier than before. I wanted to rub myself and feel the dampness, but because I was in public, I pretended like nothing happened as I tried to leave the gym.
Roddy chased after me as I reached the exit, and he apologized for not meeting my "expectations." He asked me to speak to him inside his office. I shrugged, and followed him back to his office because I was in no rush to drive back to my apartment. At that moment, I was more cynical about the events that transpired previously, and was doubtful that our relationship would progress beyond me giving someone a check once a day so they could pretend that they care about me. It wasn't an offer that sat well with me. I think he was aware of that, and that's why he pursued me after I left the office. What I didn't tell him was that I had to poop, but saying something like that would be socially awkward. I also didn't want to leave a lasting impression that consisted of a very foul odor. Nevertheless, I decided to leave my predispositions at the door, and speak to him once more.
We arrived at the office, and he politely asked me to excuse him as he went inside to retrieve something. I nodded, and leaned up against a wall by the doorway. He left the office with a wide, brown gym bag. He took the bag's black shoulder strap and cast it over his shoulder. He asked me to follow him to the gym lockers, and I gave a very hesitated but consenting nod. My stomach was grumbling, and I had to poop, but I couldn't say anything. As soon as we reached the locker room, I let out a little gas to relieve the pressure, but I ended up messed my diaper. O pushed out more I originally anticipated. I could feel the mess pulling my diaper down, and I felt humiliated. When we walked inside the locker room, Roddy asked me to sit down on one of the benches. I sat down, and felt the seat of my diaper squish noisily. I figured this was the point of no return.
There were many nude males around me. Some of them had a towel wrapped around their waist. Others proudly walked naked with their sheaths happily exposed, and sweat dripping from their balls. Combined with the warm moisture in the air, the musk coming from all the creatures nearby, and my wet diaper, I experienced a sensory overload. I blushed, and turned to my right to see Roddy sitting next to me. He patted my back playfully and chuckled. I couldn't predict what would happen next.
"Let's get you changed," said Roddy. He cracked his knuckles, and opened the gym bag. The bag contained four thick diapers, a baby bottle, a container of baby powder and wipes. My mind was racing, and I was caught between arousal and embarrassment. "Was he going to actually change me here?" I thought to myself. "This is ridiculous." I looked around the locker room, and everyone continued to do their business as usual. Some stood by and happily watched as Roddy prepared to change me. He took out a fresh diaper and baby powder. I sat motionless, sweating uncomfortably. I rocked back and forth on the bench until he told me to lie down. He told me that everything was going to be fine, and I should have "nothing to worry about," but who would get their diaper changed in a busy locker room? Nobody!
As I leaned on my back, I felt my shorts being pulled down. I tilted my head up to see that my dirty diaper was fully exposed. I could hear muffled laughter as it was drowned out by the noise of multiple showers running and clapping against the floor tiles. There were men towering over me with their muscular chests. I saw a few men stroking their shafts and masturbating as they watched. Surprisingly, the overall reaction to me being changed was relatively positive. It appeared that having diaper changes in the locker room was not an uncommon sight, and most of the patrons minded their own business. When Roddy unfastened the tapes of my dirty diaper, I curled my toes and sucked on my thumb. I thought, "Why not?" Once I assumed the "baby" role, I was hard, and everyone knew it. I didn't care.
Roddy applied the baby powder around my sheath, and created a small cloud of white dust over my crotch. He rubbed my dick a few times, which made it throb. I wanted to tell him, "Rub it again!" but I didn't want to come across as overeager. Nonetheless, I was undeniably hard. Roddy went back to his bag to bring out some baby wipes, and he proceeded to wipe my rear very gently and lovingly. I felt like a dirty baby who was getting clean. I loved how Roddy changed me as if nobody was around, and I was surprised that he was so willing to risk his professional reputation to change someone's adult diaper. I was honored, and I couldn't help but thank him a few times. He simply smiled, flicked his tail, and continued changing me without interruption. I had to stop him briefly so I could jerk off. I was already on the edge, and a few quick strokes caused me to ejaculate all over myself. The cum milked my paws and bellyfur. I rubbed the cum all over my chest and entertained the spectators who continued to rub their cocks and stare at me.
"Did that feel good?" asked Roddy.
"Uh-huh." I couldn't give a better reply. I was too preoccupied basking in my afterglow.
After the sexual hysteria was over, I felt calm. Roddy gave me a new diaper with baby-style prints and colorful tapes. I felt refreshed and immune to curious eyes. Some of the men in the locker room rubbed the front of my diaper, and gave it a good squeeze. The rubs were plentiful and seductive. It was painfully obvious that many of the male gym members were diaper-friendly or wore diapers themselves. Because there are no coincidences, I assumed that Roddy's "baby" clientele were actually members of the gym. With that assumption in mind, I felt comfortable at last.
"Thanks so much, Roddy," I said. "That was cool!"
"No problem, bud," he replied, rubbing my headfur playfully.
I started to purr, and I rolled out my tongue to show my happiness. "I'll join your group!" I declared. "When can I start?"
"Tomorrow. I run a multi-family property about a few miles west of town, and I'd love for you to come by and be a part of the gang."
"I'd love to!"
Fully clothed and refreshed, I walked out of the gym. I was interested in living like a baby. I could wet when I want to, mess when I want to. I could be as clean or as dirty as I want to. I could have my diapers changed all day, eat meals, play with toys, and be part of a family of babies. I was so excited, I wet myself while driving back home.