Daily Free-Write August 6, 2020

Hello! I didn't do a freewrite today because as soon as I woke up, I jumped out of bed to finish my work on the latest chapter of 'Babied by Billy'. Please enjoy this a free-write from last month. This one got a little longer than usual, and pretty much became it's own story! Maybe I'll continue it later? Of course, all the freewrites will be fair game in the free-write poll at the end of this month, so think about which ones you'd like to see me develop more, and feel free to share your enthusiasm in the comments! 

7.23.2020

He lurched forward as his stomach growled. He felt the familiar pressure pressing at his back door. Would he be able to make it this time? Sam had been having near-accidents all month. Ever since his husband talked him into trying pull-ups for fun. He had never had these problems before, but now - whenever he had a meal, he would almost immediately have to go. A few times this week, he had to rush to the bathroom in the middle of dinner to stop from pooping his pants. His boyfriend seemed very supportive. He didn't laugh or get upset. But he did seem concerned. 

Sam could make it! He knew he could! He threw himself onto the toilet seat just as a stream of shit and liquid burst from his behind. Where did it all come from? He had managed to get through this ordeal without making a mess, but even a second or more and the bathroom would have been destroyed.

It seemed like every day it got a little bit worse. And if it got any worse than this... he recalled the words of his husband.

"I know you've been having a hard time making it to the bathroom, hon. And I know that you weren't planning on making even pull-ups a permanent thing, but if you ever do have an accident, I think it might be time to graduate to even sturdier protection..."

He didn't like the sound of that. He knew what that meant - diapers. And he didn't like the idea of wearing diapers. No, he would schedule an appointment with the Dr. Something his hubby had been asking him to do since this started. Something that he always put off because he found it so nerve wracking just to put in the call. 

Still, it was time to do it. As soon as he stopped shitting his brains out. 

Once he was finished, he pulled up his absorbent underwear and his pants, popped an anti-diarrheal pill, and walked out of the bathroom. Then he remembered to flush - his hubby had been threatening to put locks on the toilet if he didn't flush. 

"Still having trouble, there champ? Seems like you almost didn't make it!"

Sam jumped. He didn't realize that his hubby had been listening in. 

"Y-yeah," he stammered, a little taken aback by his husband's presence and the cute nickname he chose, "I-I think I need to call the doctor and get this sorted out.

"Finally! I have been telling you to do that for weeks! I took the liberty of finding a proctologist/doctor that specializes in bowel conditions. Go ahead and ring up the office before you forget."

"Okay, t-thanks, hon." 

"You can thank me when you no longer need these!" his husband said, tugging on the bit of plastic sticking over Sam's waistband. 

The doctor's appointment was in a week, but unfortunately Sam's bowels couldn't wait that long. It was that night at dinner that he lost the hard fought battle with his colon. He was sitting there eating with his hubby when suddenly the urge came. He stood up to rush to the bathroom, but halfway there, the liquid started forcing its way out into his pull ups, making them heavier and heavier, until his pants sagged. The pull-ups weren't designed to contain a fecal load and they leaked all into his pants. He just stood there crying. That's when his hubby came over, hugged him from behind - with a little distance between their bottom halves of course - and shushed him. 

"There, there sweetie. Don't cry. We knew this would happen eventually. Let's take you upstairs and get you cleaned up. I gotcha, Champ. But I think I'd better get a towel around your waist and carry you so you don't ruin the floor!"

And that's just what he did. Sam had always been a small guy, and his husband was anything but. So it wasn't a surprise that he would sometimes get involuntary train rides around the house. Of course it always felt pretty silly, but this time it was actually really needed. Dinner was forgotten. He cried into his hubby's chest as he was carried up to the bathroom, his sodden pull up taken off while he stood in the bathtub and tossed in a plastic bag. His hubby warmed up the water and then turned on the shower head, pointing it away form Sam to make sure warm water was coming out first. And he washed Sam down, talking to him softly the whole time until Sam's sniffles petered out and he was just left tired. He toweled Sam off and led him to the bedroom.

"I think somebody needs an early bedtime, don't you?"

Sam nodded, looking like a miserable puppy. 

"But before that happens we need to have a little talk. You remember what I said would happen if you had an accident?"

Sam nodded again.

"Well, since I've seen it getting worse, and you refused to see the doctor, I took the liberty of ordering you a little extra protection."

"No, please! I don't want...d- I don't want..."

"Diapers? Honey, you can say it. Diapers. It's nothing to be ashamed of. And it's not about want it for you right now, you need them."

"But- but I can contr-"

"But you've been getting worse. And now you can't control it. Look at me... no, LOOK at me. You need diapers. Just until we get this sorted out. You can still pull them down if you need to use the potty, but for now, just try it. For the sake of the furniture?"

Sam couldn't say no. But when his husband left and came back with a thick crinkly diaper, panic surged in his chest.

"I don't have to start right NOW do I? I don't have accidents at night..."

"Yes you do, hon. You need to get used to these and now's the perfect time to start."

"But I don't WANT to get used to them! I want to be able to use the potty- ...I mean the toilet like everyone else!"

"Well, that's what we're gonna see the doctor about. For now, you're gonna wear these, or you're sleeping on the toilet. Am I understood?"

Sam wasn't used to being talked to in such a commanding tone, and he just blushed and nodded.

"I can't hear you. Am I understood?"

His hubby fixed eyes with Sam and Sam stammered out a yes. He lay back blushing furiously and covering his face as his husband diapered him up for the night. The crinkling of the plastic and the thick padding felt strange to him, but it was not unlike a thick pair of cotton underwear. He tested the feeling out wiggling his hips as his husband tucked him into bed. 

"I've got some cleaning up to do. You just rest up honey. I know you'll feel better in the morning."

Strange dreams followed, dreams where Sam would try to make it to the restroom but always find it just out of reach. Dreams of him flooding his pull-ups as they got bigger and bigger, turning a dark brown as they sagged all the way to the floor. Over and over again he experienced the humiliation of losing control and being put back into diapers. And he awoke feeling groggy and needing to use the restroom. He ran to the toilet and tried to pull down his diapers, but they were tougher to do than the pull-ups. Just as the idea of ripping off the tapes occurred to him, he began filling them. First with poop, and then pee, his body being used to releasing both at once. This was not how he expected to start his morning! He already hated the diapers more than he did yesterday, if that was possible.

"What's all the commotion, kiddo?"

"Damnit! These diapers!"

"Looks like you needed em." His husband said, raising his eyebrows.

"No, I didn't! They stopped me from making it to the toilet on time! I wouldn't have had this accident if they weren't so tight and hard to take off!"

"Really? You're blaming the diapers now? And what about last night? Did the diapers make you poop yourself then? Hon, you've had this problem for a while now! Now stop fussing about it and just wear your diapers like a responsible adult!"

Like an adult? What kind of adult wore diapers? Sam just stood there and pouted, until his hubby grabbed his hand and led him to the shower. 

"Come on, pooper. Let's get you cleaned off again. I'm gonna have to get you a changing table if this keeps up."

His husband didn't say it in a mocking way. Just matter of fact. Like he was talking about getting a new coffee table. Sam didn't like how routine this sounded. He didn't want diapers to become routine for him. But he was thankful that he had his husband to get him through this. He couldn't imagine going through this on his own. 

That week involved a lot of tears and a lot of hushing and fussing from his husband. His husband continued to use too-cute nicknames for him, but Sam didn't have the energy to fight it. When the week was over, Sam was surprised to realize he hadn't used the toilet once. He had stopped even trying to get to the bathroom and just felt the mush come out in the middle of his meals. He would just keep eating, knowing that it wasn't going anywhere, until eventually his hubby would comment, and take him upstairs for a change. He no longer took a shower every time he had an accident. His husband had gotten wet wipes and some changing pads, and just wiped him down and diapered him on those. Being a former nurse-practitioner had its benefits, and his husband changed him with expert care. It made Sam blush a bit that he kind of liked the attention. But he would never admit it out loud. But today he would see the Doctor, and get this all sorted out. Or so he hoped.