Losing More than Luggage – Part 2 of 2

Well, this was unexpected, to say the least.

Forest blinked slowly awake, finding himself staring up at the ceiling of their hotel room. Wait… hotel? Oh, yeah. Yesterday. The flight… the bus… the rain… Oh, god – the luggage- the lost luggage-

He wriggled in place, finding that what for a fleeting moment he'd hoped had been a nightmare was in fact reality. For beneath the covers he could hear – and feel – the thick, crinkling bulk of an unseen garment around his groin. The sort of garment that he had never even imagined existed before yesterday… and which the now-sleeping Ava – sprawled carelessly across him – had laughingly insisted he wear to bed.

"Ava?" He whispered after a few minutes and the pressure of growing urgency had confirmed his suspicions. They'd ordered supper into their room last night, just as she'd promised – and along with it had come two bottles of wine that he'd unthinkingly gulped down in an effort to drown out the mortification of what Ava insisted he wear. Which meant, of course, that after eight hours in his system, it was past time for it to come out.

"Ava?!" Eventually his repeated whispers and awkward writhing beneath her brought her to life, and as she sleepily yawned and tugged back her tousled hair, he half-rose with an audible crinkle. "Hey, I just need to get up. Gotta run to the bathroom-"

"Oh…" She began, and now one blue eye was blinking open. "Wait… bathroom?" "Yeah – if I can get this stupid thing off…" Forest was tugging fruitlessly at the snaps of the weird t-shirt-like garment Ava had buttoned him into last night. "Oh… but honey," she began, and now she was sitting up, the thin film of her sky-blue baby-doll nightgown doing little to conceal the heavy swells of her full breasts. "Honey, don't you think the potty is too adult for a little thing like you?"

"Ava, please! I'm not joking-" "Neither am I," she assured him, and now she was scrambling out of bed and tugging his hands away from the onesie's crotch. "Come here, you! It's way too early for you to be up…" And now a roguish smile dawned on her sleepy face. "Don't you know the tickle monster comes to get little kids who wake up too early?"

"Aaah-! No, Ava- Please- Aaah! Eee- Stop! Please, I- I can't-" And back down onto the bed he flopped, flailing fruitlessly against the probing of her fingers and the cascade of shivering tickles they were unleashing within. He'd always been super ticklish, and now Ava was using that weakness against him. He needed to-had to squirm away- No- aaah! Oh my god- she was wicked! So- so- aaaahHhH!!

It was only when her merciless fingers had finally slowed to a pause that the panting young man felt the disturbingly warm sensation around his groin.

***

"Oh my god, Forest – I still can't believe you actually peed yourself! Good thing I put that diaper on you, huh? Ya big baby!"

Forest would have blushed – that is, if he wasn't already beet-red with mortification. Here he stood, staring bleakly into the mirror in resentful resignation: a white feminine undershirt around his torso… two voluminous petticoats around his waist… and beneath it all, the damp bulk of that same damned diaper between his legs. Yet worst of all, Ava – now dressed in her low-cut flowered blouse and pencil skirt – was busily preparing to slip that frilly pink and lavender dress over his head.

Not because he'd agreed to it, of course. But simply because it was either that or… well, wearing what he had yesterday evening. Which, as she'd cuttingly pointed out, would do a wonderful job of showing off that bulgy wet diaper he was wearing.

"Oh, quit your grumbling!" she commanded, ignoring his whines at the sensation of cotton and lace slipping down over his unwilling head. "Be glad I was willing to order room service again for breakfast, okay? And anyway, so what if you're dolled up so cute? Guys can be cute too, you know!"

"You're enjoying this way too fucking much," he muttered, shuddering slightly as the zipper slid up his back, pulling the encasing fabric tight around his torso. "And come on – can't I at least take this icky diaper thing off?!" "What – and go around commando? With your dick flopping free underneath your pretty skirt?" Ava returned, shaking her head in denial. "Of course not! Besides, you were the one all concerned about us using the owner's stuff, right? Look, I have no idea, but I can't imagine these big diapers are super cheap – or easy to find. You really want to use up two of them? And better yet – leave that wet one in the trash for room service to see?"

"I'd prefer using none at all," Forest maintained, but Ava was no longer paying attention. "Look, I already found a name tag buried down in the bottom," she reminded him, flourishing it before his eyes. "It apparently belongs to someone named Crissie Martinson. I'll give them a call and see what we can do. Because let's face it – odds are good they have your bag and are just as upset as you."

He muttered something about seriously doubting it, but of course she was already cupping the phone to her ear. "Hello, is this Crissie? Crissie Martensen? Oh… oh, okay! Nice to meet you, Sharon. My name's Ava, and I'm calling because of the strangest mix-up. You see, we think we must have gotten Crissie's luggage by mistake yesterday…"

***

"Fucking hell," Forest muttered, fighting the urge to screw his eyes shut in absolute mortification. Here he sat: Ava smiling beside him on the bus seat, gazing brightly out the window and with her hand clasped reassuringly over his knee that hung, bare and exposed, beneath the frilly skirt of his lolita dress. "This is an absolute disgrace. I'm never gonna fucking live this down…"

"Oh, can it," she returned easily, and Forest grimaced as he glanced up only to find himself the recipient of a curious stare from a middle-aged guy across the aisle. "You're dressed, and you're not exposing yourself, and you're not running the risk of catching a cold from wearing a bunch of soaking-wet clothes. It's the best we can do in the circumstances, you know?"

"And besides," she continued, leaning over into his ear and patting suggestively at the padded crotch beneath his skirt. "Call me weird, but I think you're sexy as hell like this, babe. Don't ask me why, but right now the only thing I want is to be doing round two of what we did last night…"

Images of his cringing self, kneeling before her, flushed face buried in her dripping pussy, flashed through Forest's mind. God, he- had he enjoyed losing his dignity like that? Not really. And yet… looking up into that beatific smile… seeing her bare breasts heaving with pleasure… Knowing that he had been the one to bring her to such orgasmic heights…

Well, he'd have died rather than admit it. But maybe – in the bedroom, at least – a bit of lost dignity hadn't been so bad after all.

"They said they'd meet us in the hotel lobby," Ava reminded him, reaching for the troublesome suitcase as the bus neared their stop. "Just hold my hand and we'll do it together, okay? Just a bit longer and we'll have your bag. You can change in the bathroom, and it'll be like it never happened…"

Forest may have thought that at this point, nothing more could surprise him. But he was most certainly wrong – for upon shuffling down from the bus and rustling his blushing way into the hotel lobby with Ava, he found himself face to face with…

…Crissie?

Nope. "I'm Sharon," the willowy brunette smiled. Pretty a smile as it was, however, it was not nearly  enough to distract Forest from the tight leather corset, thigh-high boots, and inky skin-tight leggings that made up her wardrobe. She- she's what? A dominatrix? What the hell have we gotten into?

"Here, Crissie! Come meet the nice people with your luggage!" she called over her shoulder – at which, much to Forest's shock, came forward a sandy-haired young person about his age. A giant pacifier filled their mouth, and in one arm they clutched a purple-and-lavender stuffed pony. Ordinarily Forest might not have paid attention to such things, but given his current situation he could hardly help the furtive glance down at their crotch…

Where, sure enough, he could have sworn he could make out the puffy bulge of a diaper beneath those corduroy overalls. A diaper just as thick and puffy as the wet one between his own thighs right now.

Only after a few stunned moments did he recollect himself and tune back in to the conversation between Ava and the leather-clad dominatrix. "All this? Yeah, it's a convention for ageplayers. Oh, ageplayers? So sorry – I saw your friend there and, you know, I figured you knew…"

And out it came, as Forest shifted from foot to foot, and the mutely suckling Crissie stared solemnly over their pacifier – from Sharon to Ava to himself, then back again to Sharon. Age play. It was a kink for some people, a lifestyle for others. They'd come here for an annual convention, of course. And how heartbroken her little Crissie had been when her luggage had magically turned into boring old adult clothes. Yes, of course! No, it was all fine – she perfectly understood that they'd had no choice but to use a bit of the clothes inside. They'd swap them back now, and it would be totally cool. A bathroom to change? Of course – right over there and down the hall…

So when Forest finally emerged some ten minutes later, relieved at finding himself back in his familiar polo and jeans, he was caught off guard to hear Ava's curious voice. "Oh, wow – that's so… so cool! Can you… I mean, I guess I wouldn't even know where to start. But can you tell me where to find all those adorable clothes? And those, you know, diapers? I'm sorry – it's just that they're so freaking cute…!"

Uh-oh. He was no psychic, of course. But judging by the rapturous, wondering expression on Ava's face, he felt somehow that today was quite possibly not the last time he'd find himself in a dress.

Or even a diaper, for that matter.