The Dark Influence

Chapter 2
2: TFW You Got the Wrong Size of Training Pants?!

He awoke with a start. At first John thought it was a nightmare he was experiencing, but it was quite real. The bars of the crib he had seen from the outside earlier now surrounded him. Everything was huge. He threw the blanket off of himself. He was dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants. As he took a second to examine his body, he found that he had wet the bed too. He didn’t know what else to do. He sobbed.

Chloe came around the corner in a bathrobe. “Good morning sweetheart! Oh no no no it’s okay, let’s get those wet pants off of you.” She picked up the still distraught John over to the changing table. John flailed as he screamed, trying to roll off before Chloe strapped him down.

“Okay okay, I know it’s a lot to experience right away,” she said as she flicked his pants off in one smooth motion. John saw he was wearing a set of underwear that was slightly too big for him. The Spider-Man decals looked even more bold with the dark stain around them.

“Hmm… I guess it worked better than I thought.” Chloe pondered.

“What do oo mean bettew than you thought?” He said. His moment of rage subsiding for confusion. Chloe rifled through the changing table’s shelves for a couple different sizes of diapers before returning to towering over him.

“Here’s what’s going on. I measured enough powder to make you 30 months old. I figured two and a half years old would be okay because then you could be my baby for a while before we re-potty trained you, and then we could move on from there! This looks like you’re closer to around two based on your size. I got several different diaper sizes just in case. So we’re gonna go with these for a while and see where we’re at, okay sweetheart?”

“What awe oo talking about, diapews?! John shot back, pounding the table, “I am youw husband! I’m not a baby!”

“Sweetie, you’re strapped to a changing table, lisping your words, and in a wet pair of underpants. In my and most people’s books, that makes you a baby. And besides, I don’t want to be cleaning up wet pants all day, so off with those underoos!” She gleefully said, before gingerly removing his undergarments and throwing them in the laundry hamper. She could save them for when he got a little older (after she washed them of course.) John was about to say something, but he couldn’t find the courage. She had won this round.

Chloe cleaned his nethers with a wipe, the cold sending shivers down his spine. John tried to get a good look at himself, though the strap limited his view. He did see one thing though: His manhood, which would have been giving his wife orgasms that shook the building the night before was now the size of a pen tip. He teared up some more, as Chloe shushed him and rubbed his wispy blonde hair, before bringing up a diaper and taping it up on either side.