A 4th to forget

Written by DiaperGirlStories

I’ve always dreaded these things. Holiday family get-togethers are awful enough when it’s just your family but throw in your girlfriend’s family and its chaos. 

Anna had insisted that my mom join us to celebrate the 4th of July with her parents, who had recently become close friends, largely a result of our dating.

Her family was well-off which had its perks, one being the cabin (which was more akin to a mansion) that we were staying at over the weekend. 

I’d visited once before a few months earlier right after we’d started dating. I was beatific, to say the least. 

After enduring a long car ride riddled with intimate questions about mine and Anna’s relationship with my mom, I had started to question whether the trip was worth it. But finally, and much to my relief, we had arrived. 

While I hadn’t been excited about the trip, I was excited to have the opportunity to spend more time with her. I know I probably sound naïve, and to some degree, I probably am if I’m being honest, but I longed to prove that I was worth it.

We had yet to get out of the car before Anna’s parents were outside ready to greet us. Her parents were known for their generosity; the kind that always makes you feel welcome, like a warm bed on a cold night.

While I exited the car, I caught a glimpse of Anna’s soul-crushing smile from afar.

We quickly exchanged pleasantries before being introduced to Anna’s cousins, Charlie and Sam, her brother Nathan, and her brother’s friend, Lance before finally settling in. 

After eating dinner, Anna and I joined Nathan & Lance in the game room to watch some TV. The walls were endowed with expensive sports and cinema memorabilia, serving a reminder of the financial dichotomy between our families. 

After a couple of hours, I noticed my suitcase still sitting next to me.

“Hey” I whispered, prompting Anna to lean in, the smell of her intoxicating perfume followed with my welcome, “Where am I sleeping?”

The smile that washed over her face was warm and gentle, provoking a reciprocal smile back from me.

“Hey” she quietly quipped, “Why are you whispering?”. Her smile turned to a giggle as she grabbed my hand and lead me out of the game room. 

“We’ll be in here.” She said while gesturing towards an open door in the hallway. 

Noticing she said “we” stirred my excitement. Unsurprisingly my excitement was followed by the fear of what her parents might say. However, her unwavering confidence led me to believe that she had her parents blessing or they simply didn’t care.

As we entered the room, I quickly realized why.

“Just pick one. I’ll probably sleep in that one over there.”

The room housed 10 beds, 4 of which already appeared taken. I tried to hide my disappointment, but clearly not well enough.

“What’s wrong?” she paused concerningly.

“Nothing! Just didn’t pack any good bedtime stories to share with my roommates.” I joked, attempting to dissuade the appearance that I was ungrateful.

“Ha! Maybe a few drinks will give you some inspiration.” 

Luckily, both of our parents took the approach that, as young adults, they’d rather us drink responsibly around them than debaucherously around others. Little did they know, both Anna and I had enjoyed our fair share of beverages elsewhere, but nonetheless, it usually persuaded us to take advantage of the free drinks at home.

“C’mon, let’s make one. If you’re nice, I might even see if my dad will let you have some of his nice whiskey.” She said with a conspicuous grin before exiting the room. 

Shortly thereafter, Anna’s parents made dinner. Mexican of course, there favorite. They frequented meals such as these; “The spicier, the better!” they always said. On the contrary, me and spicy were not copacetic. I did my best to dredge through the meal, but my diminishing appetite was quickly becoming noticeable. 

“You gonna eat?” Anna questioned in jest with a soft smile.

Understanding what precipitated her question, I peered up at the table. I’d hoped to find someone as dispositioned as I was to the audaciously spicy food that awaited me; instead, empty plates abound.   

“Too spicy for ya, huh?” Lance joked, communal laughter following. 

Whether it was the alcohol or my pride, the stuffed serrano peppers were no longer intimidating.

“Not at all!” 

As I attempted to casually devour one, my mother’s concerned expression glared brightly.  As the heat quickly escalated, I was reminded why her concern was valid. 

“I didn’t know you liked those so much! Here, take a few more.” Anna’s mom graciously offered, appearing to confirm I was hiding my displeasure well.  

“Thanks… they’re… great.” My gabbled response was clearly not to my mother’s liking as she again produced a pronounced stare in my direction. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sure those are tasty, but they may come with a hefty price tomorrow.”  My mother announced, again provoking laughter before she even finished. 

 I responded with a silent “I’ll be fine” shrug as table conversations resumed. As I continued, my mother discreetly exited the table and approached me. 

As she quietly leaned in, I quickly ascertained the source of her discontent. 

“Honey, please stop. I don’t want you to have another accident like last time.” She said through a quieted whisper that couldn’t have been quite enough. I quickly fixed my eyes on Anna to ensure she hadn’t heard, but her subtle curiosity was hardly conspicuous. 

“You know your IBS flares up when you eat spicy food…” Luckily my crimson cheeks were unsurprisingly camouflaged 

“MOM… NOT… NOW.” I quietly demanded through gritted teeth.

Anna’s curiosity was now visibly peaking. Luckily my embarrassment-riddled cheeks were easily mistaken as a result of my eating. 

“How about another drink?” I questioned Anna, hoping to dissuade my mother from continuing her talks of my potential calamity. 

“Yes please!” Anna stated while handing me her empty glass. 

My mother concluded her informal reprimand with her eyes boring into me imploringly.  

As the night continued, Anna and I quickly attained and subsequently eclipsed a buzz. While usually responsible around our parents, they too were throwing them back. As the night wore on, it seemed as though the only responsible people residing at the residence were Anna’s cousins who were already in bed.

The fun began to fade as we’d blown past warm and fuzzy and approached sloppy and sleepy. Anna and I helped clean up before heading to our hodgepodge bedroom full of 13 to 18-year old’s. 

As we lay in bed, conversations ensued with Nathan and Lance. Though I was to drunk to care, or perhaps, too drunk to tell the difference, I got the sense that Lance was flirting with Anna.

He was tall, athletic, and if forced to admit, good looking. I didn’t necessarily feel threatened upon meeting him, but I had sensed he lacked boundaries, which was cause for concern.

Anna and I have something that Lance couldn’t offer, which gave me solace. We had been friends for a year before my feelings for her had involuntarily begun to ooze out of me. Despite my fear of compromising our friendship, I finally found the courage to disclose my feelings to her. Surprisingly and much to my delight, she too admitted she had begun to have feelings for me as well. 

I need not deceive you; my feelings for her were immutably stronger. There was little doubt that I didn’t pass the “eye-test” when we were together. Her long silky brown hair, green eyes, and slender athletic build didn’t proportionally match me, but what made us special was how close we were; we could talk about anything. Her personality was a bright beaming light that, comparatively, made everyone else appear glaringly dull. 

The alcohol soon put us to sleep, dulling my feelings of inadequacy.

The sunlit the room, waking me despite my resistance. Slowly becoming lucid, the absence of noise caught my attention. 

Peering around the room, I realized it was empty. I guess I had more alcohol than I thought. 

My throbbing headache corroborated my suspicion. Then, something else unequivocally confirmed it. 

No... please… not that…. not now. 

Peeling the sheets back, the familiar sight and smell surfaced memories of the not-so-distant past. 

Humiliation filled me from my toes to my burning cheeks. The inescapable memory of being treated a fraction of my age engulfed and destroyed the dignity I’d worked so hard to build. 

The sound of footsteps approaching redirected my attention away from self-pity and into survival mode. Every step growing closer and every thought moving faster, I panicked. 

As the door opened, I stood there frozen, futilely using my pillow to obfuscate the undeniable damage to my PJ’s. 

I was well-aware that I likely appeared more like an embarrassed 4-year-old than the 18-year old that I was. 

“Hey honey, Anna told me what happened. You feeling okay?” 

My face instantly went white. The realization that Anna already knew surged a tsunami-sized wave of regrettably misplaced indignation. Now, I not only appeared like an embarrassed 4-year-old but felt like one. 

“I... I.... don’t know... what... happened.” 

Every stuttered word that escaped my mouth continued to match my pathetic appearance and my mom’s disenchanted expression. 

“It’s okay, honey. You’ve made a lot of progress and that’s something you should be proud of.”

My mother’s compliments were always slathered with her maternal incentive, but this was beguiling. 

Then it caught my eye. 

“Mom...” I stopped as I felt my petulant tone shifting to a petulant whine. 

“I don’t need...” Again I caught myself, but this time not out of my own self-awareness, but the presence of someone in the hallway. 

Anna appeared from behind my mom. I abhor the polarizing sight before me; Anna, in a revealing skirt that left little to the imagination, showing off her long, slender tan legs, my mother, holding what I could easily prognosticate as my new underwear, and me, appearing no better than a frightened little boy. 

“Hey babe, it’s okay. Accidents happen.” 

Her maternal tone made me feel a lot less like her boyfriend and a lot more like her child. 

“No! They don’t, I mean it did... but, it’s not like I need...” 

“No need to be dramatic. I know all about your history of ‘accidents’, both day and night.” 

Anna stated this matter-of-factly as she began approaching, I quickly noticing familiar supplies in hand. 

“Wait! What, how? I mean... what do you think you know?” 

My begrudging tone birthed a sarcastic expression on her face as she proceeded to direct me back towards my bed. 

“C’mon, just let your mom change you and when I get back we can hang out.” 

Her soothing voice seemed to always calm even the most ferocious storm. 

Now on my back staring up at Anna, I acquiesced to their insistence of ‘protection’

“Wait, where are you going?” 

My mother began cleaning my bottom as Anna paused at the doorway. 

“Lance asked if I wanted to go out to the lake with him and Nathan. We’ll probably be back in a couple of hours.” 

“Wait!” 

Anna again paused, now peering back at me annoyed. 

The smell of baby powder momentarily shifted my attention. The feeling of my mother applying it entirely shattered it. 

“... Yes...?” 

Now she seemed frustrated. 

“Can I come?”

For the umpteen time this morning, I again noticed how utterly childish I sounded after the words escaped my lips. 

“Up.” my mother commanded. 

Staring into Anna’s eyes, I felt the diaper slide underneath me. The expression on her face served as the undeniable answer to my question. 

Her eyes now moved away from mine and towards my mom, who was now in the process of taping me into my infantile prison. 

“Let me know if you need more or if those don’t fit him. I can run to town and grab some.” 

“Actually, it looks like they fit great!” 

My mom’s profound enthusiasm was in stark contrast to my quickly diminishing dignity. 

“Now honey, you should thank Anna for finding these for you.” 

The utter shame and embarrassment engulfed me. Laying on my back, at the age of 18, in front of my girlfriend, back in disposable diapers meant for children. 

I looked away to obscure my humiliation. 

“Thanks...” 

“No problem. See you guys in a little while.”Anna promptly left, the sound of her excitement pristinely clear, leaving me behind, 17 years less my age, diapered. 

“Honey, I taught you better manners than that!” My mother angrily quipped. 

“Don’t think for a second you’re too old for a spanking.” 

The threat was, in-of-itself, thinly veiled. My mother wouldn’t hurt a fly. But I was in no position to push my luck. 

“You should be thankful that Anna was able to find you some of Charlie’s old diapers.” 

Charlie, a pre-pubescent teenager, was able to grow out of diapers years ago. Yet, here I am, back in them despite being 4 years older. 

“Here, put on some clean clothes while I go make breakfast.” 

Apathetically, I stood up and began dressing. Every move parsing an audible crinkle that continued to pierce my remaining pride. 

Awaiting their return, I scrolled through Instagram, stumbling upon a picture of Anna. As I stared at the picture, excitement filled my loins. 

My excitement was, unfortunately, short-lived, as my member produced an audible crinkle from the confines of my infantile underwear. Reality quickly set in; the beautiful girl on the screen, and me, diapered. The dichotomy was glaringly immeasurable. 

Then, another picture, but worse. The emasculation washed over me as I stared at the picture of her and Lance. There he was next to her, appearing believably appropriate for one another, while I am left to sulk in my own self-pity.

After breakfast and a couple of hours later, as promised, Anna returned. 

As they approached the door, Anna and Lance could be unmistakable heard; giggling, laughing, all fluently and all too familiar. 

I set dejected in the living room as they entered. 

“Hey big guy, you feeling any better?” 

Lance’s question weighed heavily with condescension. Ordinarily, I would stand up for myself, but my current circumstance didn’t lend me much leverage. 

“Yep, all good” 

The rest of the day wore on, dragging slowly. Anna’s posture towards me seemed to evolve. Where our boyfriend-girlfriend pet-names had existed before, they were now lathered in childish inflections. 

“Babe” was now “Baby”, or, alternatively, “Awww baby...”. “Cutie” was now, “Aren’t you a cutie?” 

Proportionally, Anna’s posture towards Lance seemed to be changing as well. I simply can’t fathom this new reality that’s changed so suddenly. 

Exhausted, defeated, and still hungover from the night before, the couch was my landing spot. 

“Awwww you look tired. You probably need a nap.” 

Not enthused, I stare back at Anna imploringly, wishfully hoping my cease and desist expression would serve its purpose. Much to my surprise, she set down next to me, gently guiding my head onto her lap. 

She began to run her fingers through my hair. The feelings of exhaustion, arousal, and indignity battled one another with every stroke. The feeling of my member growing constrained within the diaper proved perplexing. Having an erection in the presence of family and friends is strange enough, but while diapered? 

Anna quickly noticed, to my demise, choosing to encourage my obvious internal confusion and bewilderment. Her hand slowly moved under the blanket, then under my shorts, but disappointingly, atop the diaper. 

Peering up at Anna, my pleading expression gave her the satisfaction she desired. Retracting her hand with a quiet giggle before leaning in with a quieter, seducing whisper. 

“Maybe I’ll do more when you’re back in your big boy underwear.” 

Her gentle words & soft smile left me conflicted. My girlfriend, qualitatively labeling me as nothing more than a petulant child, while also providing an incentive for, what essentially amounts to, my second potty training. I beseechingly watched as she stood up, departing from my side in exchange for Lance’s. 

With the perceptually distant sound of the TV, I fought to keep my eyes open, slowly surrendering my eyelids while praying I’d wake to find a new reality. 

The evening sun beamed through the living room shades, jarring me out of my sleep. As I shifted my posture from underneath the blanket, the faint smell of baby powder reminded me that my prayers hadn’t been answered.   

The sound of quiet snores followed. Peering around the room, I was comforted that everyone was asleep. 

Then another noise; a loud rumble. My impulsive choices at dinner wreaking havoc, expeditiously moving through me without regard for couth. 

Suddenly, it was knocking on the door. This was something I was accustom to, unfortunately. While I can’t say it didn’t contribute to previous circumstances that necessitated my attire, a few occasions had certainly solidified my mom’s opinion on the matter. 

Drawing attention to myself for a trip to the bathroom would almost certainly provoke commentary. My apprehension prevailed convincing, and as the quiet snores continued, I knew blending-in was the best option. 

As I laid my head back down, another tumultuous rumble ravaged my insides. This time, demanding exit. Involuntarily, a silent fart escaped, providing temporary relief, but at what cost, I was uncertain. 

“Alright, everyone! Time to get up!” Anna’s mom abruptly announced, receiving an audience of tired moans in response. 

“C’mon, guys. The park is going to fill up quickly, so we need to leave soon get a good spot.” 

I remained under the blanket while everyone sluggishly began departing their napping position, knowing the blanket served as my only shield to the lingering smell that lay beneath. 

“Everyone has five minutes to get ready!” Anna’s mom declared enthusiastically while exiting the living room. 

As my eyes wandered, I found Anna arising from Lance’s shoulder, again feeling the stout indignity that had relentlessly grown since the day began. 

As the room cleared and the coast was clear, I removed the blanket.

The smell that wafted from below validated my decision to remain blanketed prior to the room’s clearance.  

While planning my next course of action, I paused to allow my fart to dissipate. While contemplating what attire would most effectively avert further humiliation, my thoughts were interrupted by the lingering smell persisted. 

Hesitantly determined to identify the source, I fearfully postured my weight to my bottom. Distress immediately consumed me, confirmation surprisingly meeting my diapered cheeks. 

My silent fart had been quietly deadly. The faint smell that met my nostrils was absent my surprise.

Contemplating my quickly deteriorating options, I set speechlessly still on the couch, stunned at my actionably diminishing age.  

“Three minutes! Leaving in three minutes!” Anna’s mom yelled from afar. 

Rising to my feet I was reluctant to come to terms with my reality. 

While “sharting yourself” had always been a humorous, but understandable, topic among friends, doing so while in the presence of others was beyond laughable. However, soiling a diaper rather than underwear… well, that wouldn’t be humorous or understandable. If anything, it’s validation and validating it was. 

“You ready to go?” Anna lovingly questioned as she entered the room. 

Her eyes meeting mine & smile lighting up the room with warmth. It was moments such as these that redirected my focus away from my anxious thoughts, even in the midst of being a young adult male treated (and apparently, acting) like a child. 

“Yep! Just need to grab some shoes.” I responded quickly, hoping to dissuade her, or anyone else, from becoming aware of the small childish act I’d regrettably deposited in my “underwear”. 

While tying my shoes, I couldn’t help but watch Anna and Lance interact with one another. Although Anna had always been charismatically gifted, they both appeared to jive curiously well. If not for my current situation, I would (likely hastily) confront Lance and tell him to back off, despite his tall, muscular build which contrasted largely to my own. 

My embarrassment grew as I continued to stare at Anna. She was outrageously gorgeous, standing there beautifully dressed, petite, and personality beaming as she flirtatiously conversed with Lance. In contrast, me, her supposed boyfriend, dressed in an old t-shirt & tennis shoes with athletic shorts as my old barrier to my suspecting audience becoming aware that I can’t be trusted in adult underwear. 

“Let’s load up!” Anna’s mom declared while waltzing through the living room.  

Desiring to abate any positional circumstance where the state of my diaper could be known, I trailed cautiously behind as everyone proceeded outside.

Exiting the cabin, my anxiety spiked as I noticed everyone piling into Anna’s parents’ SUV, knowing proximity could surely lead to my demise. 

As I approached the SUV, I noticed its capacity quickly growing. I suddenly worried I’d be relegated to sitting in someone’s lap, benefitting, nonetheless to the day’s events. 

Pausing cautiously outside the vehicle, I stuck my head inside to assess, only to find Anna and Lance affectionately occupying each other’s space. 

“Hey sweetie, you’re riding with me. We have to take two cars anyways.”

My mom’s use of pet names had never bothered me. Today, however, was making me regret my complicity. 

Rather than being relegated to someone’s lap, I now felt like the momma’s boy who wasn’t old enough to ride with the big kids. 

Again, I decided against getting up, slowly allowing my heavy eyes to close. 

I woke to a peculiar sound, followed by an unsettling smell. 

Tapes being ripped. Still disoriented and waiting for my eyes to adjust to the light, I attempted to identify the source of the unnerving sound. 

As my eyes became adjusted, I noticed my mom standing over me, exasperation filled her face. 

Then the smell. It was familiar. Some combination. 

Then it all came together. 

“Guys, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was bringing a little stinker with me when we made the trip.”

My mom’s pleading tone quickly alerted me to the likely disapproving audience. Despite my reluctance to confirm my suspicions, my eyes soon found the source of the room's discontent. 

With another rip, my diaper was now open, and much to my astonishment and utter embarrassment, incredibly full. 

The smell of baby powder was present but largely overpowered. 

My mother angrily stared at me as she furiously worked at cleaning my bottom. 

“I’m changing your dirty diaper and then we’re heading straight home.”

The embarrassment was palpable. The indignation was perceivable. The emasculation, insurmountable. 

While this wasn’t the first time I’d had a dirty diaper changed at an unacceptable age, it had never happened in front of a disgruntled audience. 

Peering back, I found shock and equal disgust commandeering all faces, namely Anna’s. 

I remained speechless, my humiliation serving as an effective muzzle, consequently appearing as self-acceptance of my inconceivable regression. 

The removal of the dirty diaper brought me momentary relief, only to be replaced my dreaded anxiety as a fresh one now replaced it. 

As a result of her haste, a cloud of baby powder mushroomed above as my Mom continued to eagerly finish what now appeared just as embarrassing to her. 

Now taped up and relegated back to astounding adult infancy, my Mom swiftly picked me up and laid me on her shoulder, my diapered bottom resting flatly on her arm. 

Now in no position to protest, I resorted to hiding my face in her shoulder as she grabbed our things. 

“Here, take these with you in case he needs them.”

Anna’s resounding, caring voice gave me impermanent hope that she could see past... whatever this is. 

“Thanks, dear. You’re a sweetheart. Too bad stinker here couldn’t be a big boy long enough for us to stay.”

On the outside, I appeared docile, accepting, and compliant. But on the inside... hell hath no fury. I wanted to scream. 

“It’s okay. Let us know if you need anything.” 

I could hear my Mom's mouth with extreme gratitude, ‘Thank You’. 

As she turned to leave, I watched as Anna stared back at me, her face absent expression. As our distance grew further, I watched as it slowly filled with joy. Lance, of course, approaching and placing his hand on the small of her back, discussing their plans for the evening as their voices slowly faded into the distance while my mother carried me back to infancy.