Griefmire's Playground, Part 1

Story 2 of 3, Post 11 of 33 for August.

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Professor David Randall stood in front of his class and prepared to deliver his lecture. A newly-single man in his early forties, he was fit, handsome, and still had most of his hair. He cleared his throat. "Good morning, people. When we met the other day, we were talking about the Roman Empire under Nero. He was succeeded by Galba, a man who's not nearly as well-known. But then Nero was a tough act to follow." There was some scattered chuckling. "Galba wasn't a very popular emperor, especially when compared to Nero. A lot of people find that surprising, but the man we think of today as the epitome of incompetence and apathy had quite a few supporters, people who benefited from his reign."

As David spoke, he suddenly felt a rush of warm wetness in his crotch. His bladder had released, and he was wetting his pants, in front of his class, no less! As he trained to regain control of himself, he looked down and saw a dark wet spot spreading from his crotch to his thighs. His students had already started to gasp and laugh at the sight of their professor pissing himself.

A young man in the second row pointed at him. "Look, guys! Prof is pissing his pants!"

David started stammering as the flow continued, running down his legs. "I'm sorry, I-- I don't know--"

A pretty blonde at the side of the room laughed and smiled condescendingly. "Aww, did you have an accident in your pants, Davey?"

He felt the piss pooling in his shoes. "Now, wait!"

A stocky guy at the front spoke up. "Anyone can see he did. Looks like the professor's not potty-trained!"

His bladder finally emptied, he stood in front of them, his pants drenched and a puddle expanding at his feet. "That's not true! I--"

A guy with long hair sitting in the back chimed in: "Dude, why are they letting him teach us? We should be teaching him how to keep his pants dry and use the bathroom."

"No, I know--"

A girl on the front row: "He's not ready for that! He's just a baby!"

"I am NOT a--"

The guy sitting next to her: "Yo, if he's a baby, he should be in diapers!"

"I'm not--"

The pretty blonde at the side of the room: "You're right, he should be! We can't let him just go pee-pee on himself like that!"

"Stop! I--"

The long-haired guy in the back: "Does anybody have a diaper to put on him?"

"No! I don't--"

A big girl a few seats over: "I do! I babysit, and I still have one in my bag here."

"What?! That's--"

The stocky guy in the front: "Well, bring it up here, and let's put it on him before he has another accident!"

"You can't be serious!"

David started to back away, looking for an escape, but the class rushed him, quickly closing the distance and overpowering him. They grabbed him and held him down on his desk, stripping him of his wet pants and underwear while the big girl came forward, diaper and wipes in her hand. He yelled and screamed, fighting them and calling for help, but they ignored him and no help came. The other students held him down while the large girl began wiping his crotch and legs. He squirmed and tried to break free, but his arms and legs were all held fast by multiple hands. He screamed even louder, but nobody came to help him. David looked up as she began to unfold the diaper, thinking in some detached part of his mind that it couldn't even possibly fit him. His feet and legs were lifted up as it was slid under him, and the students set him back down for the big girl to sprinkle powder on his crotch as she cooed at him. Then, to his supreme confusion and horror, she brought the diaper up between his thighs and quickly taped it shut. Somehow, even though it was clearly a baby diaper, it fit him perfectly!

"There! Now, doesn't that feel better?" The large girl smiled down at him as the rest of the class stood around, laughing and jeering.

David looked down and saw smiling cartoon puppies stretched across his groin. "Get this off me! I don't need a diaper! I'm not a baby!"

They ignored him, continuing to laugh and taunt him as they circled around the humiliated professor. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as he yelled at them. He grabbed the tabs of the diaper and started to pull, but his hands were slapped away, and he heard someone say "Bad baby! Leave that on!"

David bolted upright in bed, gasping loudly, his heart racing. The diaper! He looked down to see his boxer-briefs in the dim moonlight, feeling the material. It had all been a dream. But there was tension in his bladder. He had to pee urgently! He shot out of bed and ran to the bathroom, getting his underwear down just before the stream began to flow into the water below it. He heaved a huge sigh of relief. "What a weird dream! Where the fuck did that come from?!"

Julie Ford walked into her little girl's nursery as the bright morning sun shone through the windows. She could still hear her husband Brian snoring loudly from their bedroom. Britney was sound asleep in her crib, looking so sweet and peaceful. Julie paused a moment to appreciate the sight.

"Time to wake up, sweetie."

She leaned over and reached into the crib, but she must have leaned over too far because she lost her balance and fell forward. Everything happened so fast that she couldn't process what was going on, but somehow, she ended up on her back, looking up at the ceiling. She took a second to catch her breath and then looked around her, shocked to discover that she'd actually fallen into the crib! In a panic, she looked around for Britney, terrified that she'd landed on the baby, but she didn't see her daughter anywhere. That's when she noticed how tall and thick the bars were and how spacious the crib was, much more so than it should have been for a grown woman. Julie sat up and realized the crib wasn't all that had changed. Her legs were much smoother and pudgier, and nestled between her thighs was a diaper.

"What the hell?" But instead of the words, she heard unintelligible babble in a tiny voice. What was going on? "Brian! Come here! Something's wrong! Brian!"

She continued calling until a figure appeared in the doorway, but it wasn't her husband; it belonged to a woman who looked familiar.

The stranger stepped into the room, a bright smile on her face. "Good morning, sleepy girl! It's about time you woke up! You slept so good last night! You didn't even wake Mommy up once!"

Julie stared up at the woman in confusion. "Mommy?! You're not my mom! Who are you? What's going on here?!" Again, it was all gibberish.

The woman laughed. "So talkative this morning! Silly girl! Let's get you out of there and get you changed."

She lifted Julie out of the crib by her armpits and began carrying her to the changing table. Somehow, Julie had been turned into a baby, but she was in Britney's nursery. What was going on? She was laid down, and the onesie she was wearing was unsnapped, the flaps pulled back.

"Ooh, you're a soggy girl today! Yes, you are!"

The woman began to untape Julie's diaper when someone else walked into the room. As they came into view, Julie saw it was her husband Brian. He walked up and kissed the stranger. "G'morning, babe."

Julie was furious. How dare he kiss another woman right in front of her? "You cheating asshole! Did you do this to me?! What did you do?!"

Brian laughed. "And good morning to you too, little chatterbox." He bent down and kissed her forehead. "She does take after her mommy, running her little mouth like that."

"Watch it, buster, or I'll serve you her wet diaper for breakfast."

"My name's not Buster! It's Brian. And you're Britney."

"Funny."

"Dad's gotta dad joke."

Britney?! This woman was Britney? So, Julie hadn't just become a baby; she had somehow switched places with her baby! How was this possible? Nothing was making sense, and it frightened her. Suddenly, she felt a stream of pee leaving her body.

"Whoops! She's not done!" Britney pulled the used diaper back up on her to catch the flow.

This scared Julie even more, and she started to scream. But in her state, the scream was nothing but a baby's wail, which made her cry even harder. Brian and Britney began cooing and shushing at her, but it was no good.

Julie opened her eyes and blinked. That was the weirdest and possibly the scariest dream she'd ever had. As she came awake, she became aware of a strange sensation: warmth around her ass. She'd wet the bed! She threw the covers off herself and glanced at Brian beside her. "Baby. Baby, wake up. I had an accident, and we need to change the sheets."

"What? You had a--" He rolled over and stuck his hand on the wet spot. "Oh, shit! You pissed the bed!"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. I guess I had a dream."

He shook his head. "It's okay. These things happen. Look, you go clean up, and I'll change the sheets. Okay?"

Julie walked off to the bathroom towards the shower, grateful for an understanding husband but still embarrassed and confused.

Griefmire watched Julie peel off her wet panties and listened to the thoughts in her mind as she remembered her strange dream and tried to figure out what it might mean or what had caused it. He laughed at the humiliation she felt as she pictured the crib bars towering over her and recalled being picked up out of it by her own daughter, the shame she felt over wetting the bed. So David Randall hadn't wet his bed. The Ford woman had, and even though the professor hadn't wet, he was still embarrassed and confused by the dream. The night was off to a good start. He watched Julie begin to wash the pee off her legs before turning his attention elsewhere. The night had only begun, and there were billions of sleeping people vulnerable to a demon who loved to use his diaper fetish to invade their minds while they slept and give them degrading dreams to torture them.