Tale #4: The De Leon Diet

Tale #4: The 'De Leon' Diet I could feel my diaper weighing down prominently on the taut fabric of my romper, cutting an undeniable outline of a boy in dire need of a diapee change. Patting my crotch, I could definitely discern that I'd peed a few times, but was it possible that I'd pooped myself too? My hands explored the puffy backside of my romper, going as far as to grip and squeeze the diaper contained underneath; yup, it wasn't too bad of a load, but I'd definitely pooped at some point too. Big surprise there. I idly sucked on my pacifier, made anxious by these discoveries, but not necessarily uncomfortable. In my younger state, I had become less disgusted by the soiled feeling of a dirtied diaper; in fact, I could actually appreciate the sensation in an infantile way. The anxiety came from the unavoidable feeling of guilt and shame that the full diaper provoked. Just because my body had returned to a state of toddlerhood, didn't mean that my mind or the actions I underwent, had to be of the same. Not that the people I was around seemed to mind; even knowing how old I was supposed to be, they wouldn't even blink at me acting the way I now looked. So what if a three year old lisped his words, or pooped himself at the dinner table? It was just part and parcel! Nevermind the fact that a grad student was in actuality the one doing it. Oh, and what a great time to actually finish my extensive schooling, just to then be stricken by this ailment. All I'd wanted was to lose some weight before my graduation! I'd just wanted to cut a nice figure in that robe, to make for a better picture. I'd needed a crash diet: something with fast, hefty and volatile results. After scouring the web, I'd come across something that sounded like it might be just that. It was a fad diet, and it came with a rather pricey supplement; I'd been skeptical of the claims it made, but the testimonials had been convincing enough for my lazy nature. Thirty pounds in just one month? No other diet plan was promising anything close to that! It also didn't require much of anything else...Just follow the diet plan and take the daily supplement at the correct dosage, and the pounds would just melt off. And they did, for a while at least. My waistline was getting trimmed and my clothes were becoming more baggy as the month carried on...And then I got overambitious, or to be more honest, too greedy. The supplement was some pricey kind of water; I'd assumed it was just some odd alkalinized bullshit, or some funky distilled medicine water. The instructions were very clear on how much of it that I was supposed to take daily. I only had a week or so left until my graduation ceremony, and while I was looking much slimmer, it wasn't enough to satisfy me. So I began to quadruple the dosage I took of the water. At first, this shortcut had seemed to be very effective. My weight loss was becoming far more expedient and I often caught myself admiring my new form in the mirror. However, the gravy train came to a crash when I woke up one morning, not only in a puddle of my own urine, but in a puddle of my own oversized clothes. I'd lost a tremendous amount of weight! And height...And age... This little crash diet had reverted my body back to the days of preschool! My mind was relatively unaffected, though my emotional control was definitely hindered; my smaller body's physical failings were much more dire. I obviously still knew how to use the toilet, but my brain still thought I had the control of an adult, so I didn't get the signal until I was already going in my pants. Turns out that I wasn't the only one running into this issue either; the diet and the company selling the supplement had gotten shut down by the FDA, after enough people had gotten the same boneheaded idea as me to eschew the correct dosage. There was no fix for it either, except to just let nature take its course and allow me to grow back up normally. I still graduated, though walking the stage as a toddler was definitely more embarrassing than walking it while overweight. The bigger issue was my ability to care for myself, so I had to move back in with my family. The only clothes that would fit were those in my new age range, which when combined with my newfound diaper dependency, didn't do much to help my bruised ego. I was looking for a job, but it'd be a tough sell for any prospective employer to look past these problems I now had. Worse, the doctors had told me that my toileting problems might not be so quick to repair; it might take years before my brain was able to adjust to my immature nerves. So diapers wouldn't be off the table any time soon, even as I began to age back up. Which, speaking of... I stopped and put my hands against the couch, feeling a familiar sensation down below. I had to take a dump, like, right now. As fate would so unfortunately have it, my younger brother had just so happened to be walking into the living room at the same time. "..Hey, do you want to go-- Oh! Sorry, I guess you're, uh...Pooping, huh?" My face must have looked like a tomato, either from the shame or from the pushing that I was doing while letting out muffled grunts and toots. I could feel my romper growing more tight against the front of my groin, pushing the soaked garment against me, due to the back of the fabric getting stretched out from my expanding diaper-seat. "I'll wait until you're done..." I could just grunt in response, squatting lower to finish my 'movement' with some haste. I'd been so vain about my appearance, and now instead of worrying about my weight, I was worrying about something much, much worse.