Chapter 7: Playtime Paige unbuckled the straps holding him in the high chair. The chest strap came loose first, then the lap belt. She swung the tray away and stepped back to give him room to climb down. He pushed himself off the plastic seat. The diaper crinkled loudly as his feet hit the floor. The padding between his legs forced him to stand with his thighs slightly apart. She wiped his face one more time with a damp cloth. Getting the last traces of banana off his chin. The bib came off next. She untied the strings at the back of his neck and pulled it away. The cartoon ducklings disappeared back into whatever drawer she'd pulled them from. "Time for your afternoon activities," Paige announced in that cheerful maternal voice. She took his hand and led him toward the living room. He waddled behind her. The thick diaper made normal walking impossible. Each step came with a noisy rustle of plastic and padding. His cheeks burned with the humiliation of it. This morning he'd walked into his office building like a normal person. Now he could barely cross his own living room without sounding like an infant. The furniture had been rearranged while he was at work. Their coffee table had been pushed against the wall. The space it usually occupied now held something else entirely. A large playpen sat in the corner where the coffee table used to be. Adult-sized but unmistakably designed for containing someone like a baby. Metal bars formed a square enclosure about six feet on each side. The bars went up at least four feet high. Mesh panels filled the spaces between the metal framework. A padded mat covered the bottom. Inside the playpen sat an assortment of items that made his stomach turn. Baby toys scattered across the mat. Plastic rattles in primary colors. Soft blocks with letters printed on them. A shape-sorter with chunky geometric pieces. Board books with thick cardboard pages. A large stuffed teddy bear propped in one corner. Everything sized for adult hands but clearly meant for infant-level entertainment. Paige unlatched a section of the playpen. The gate swung open with a metallic click. She guided him inside with gentle pressure on his back. "In you go, baby." He stepped into the playpen. The padded mat compressed under his feet. Soft cushioning designed to protect a baby from hurting themselves if they fell. She closed the gate behind him. The latch clicked into place. Then she reached up and pulled down another section from above. A lid. The playpen had a top that locked the whole thing into a complete cage. Metal bars and mesh formed a roof over his head. She secured the latches at each corner. Testing them to make sure everything sat firmly in place. He was completely enclosed now. Trapped inside a baby cage in his own living room. Paige pulled a small padlock from her pocket. The same type she'd used on his onesie. She threaded it through the main latch mechanism and clicked it shut. The sound echoed in the quiet room. She tugged on the lock to verify it was secure. "There we go," she said with satisfaction. "All safe and contained." She walked over to the couch and picked up her laptop. Brought it back and set it up on the coffee table she'd pushed against the wall. The coffee table now served as her desk. Positioned where she could easily see him in his playpen while she worked. "You'll spend three hours in playtime each afternoon," Paige explained while opening her laptop. "While Mommy gets some work done. This gives you time to adjust to your new routine and learn to entertain yourself appropriately." She settled into a chair at the makeshift desk. The laptop screen illuminated her face as she logged in. Her fingers started clicking on the keyboard. Working on whatever project she had going. Completely casual about leaving him locked in a playpen. He stood in the center of the enclosure. Looking around at the toys surrounding him. The stuffed bear stared at him with its glass eyes. The board books had titles like "Baby's First Words" and "Colors for Little Ones" printed on their spines. Everything designed for someone who couldn't handle adult entertainment. Someone who needed simple shapes and bright colors to occupy their attention. The diaper crinkled as he shifted his weight. Still thick and dry between his legs. The reminder of what he was wearing made everything worse. Locked in a playpen while dressed in a diaper and onesie. Reduced to the level of an infant who needed constant supervision and containment. He tried to find a comfortable position. Sitting seemed like the least humiliating option. He lowered himself down onto the mat. The padding compressed beneath him. The diaper crinkled and bunched up as he settled into a sitting position. The bulk forced his legs to splay out in front of him. Paige glanced over from her laptop. "That's right, baby. Sit down and play with your toys. Mommy will let you know when playtime is over." Then she went back to her work. Typing away at her keyboard. Occasionally scrolling or clicking her mouse. Completely absorbed in whatever she was doing. Leaving him to sit in his cage with nothing but baby toys for company. Minutes crawled by. He picked up one of the plastic rattles just to have something to do with his hands. The thing made noise when he shook it. Plastic beads bouncing around inside a clear chamber. Designed to fascinate an infant who'd never seen cause and effect before. He set it down after a few seconds. The board books offered slightly more complexity. He picked one up and flipped through the thick cardboard pages. Simple illustrations of farm animals. A cow. A pig. A chicken. Each page had a single word printed in large letters beneath the picture. "Moo." "Oink." "Cluck." Educational content for someone learning their first words. He dropped the book back onto the mat. This was torture. Sitting here surrounded by things that insulted his intelligence. Trapped in a cage while Paige worked on her laptop like nothing unusual was happening. Like keeping her husband locked in a playpen was a perfectly normal afternoon activity. The shape-sorter caught his attention next. Plastic cylinder with holes cut in different geometric shapes. Triangle, circle, square, star. Chunky blocks designed to fit through the corresponding holes. He picked up the cylinder and turned it over in his hands. Examining it like an artifact from some alien culture. People actually bought these things for their children. Thought this counted as appropriate entertainment. He tried fitting one of the blocks through its matching hole just to pass time. The star-shaped piece went through the star-shaped opening. Dropped inside the cylinder with a hollow thunk. Revolutionary. Groundbreaking. Truly the pinnacle of human achievement. More minutes passed. Paige continued working. Her fingers clicked steadily on the keyboard. Occasionally she'd pause to read something on the screen. Then back to typing. She'd glance over at him every few minutes. Checking that he was still contained and behaving. Then back to her work. He shifted position. The diaper crinkled with the movement. Sitting on the padded mat made his legs go numb. He stretched them out. Pulled them back in. Nothing helped much. The playpen didn't offer enough space to really move around. Just enough room to sit or lie down. Maybe crawl from one side to the other if he wanted to fully embrace the infantile nature of his situation. His watch showed that only forty minutes had passed since she'd locked him in here. Two hours and twenty minutes left. The thought made his chest tighten. Sitting here for that long would drive him insane. Nothing to do. Nothing to read except board books for toddlers. Nothing to occupy his mind except the constant reminder of where he was and what he was wearing. The teddy bear sat in the corner watching him with its button eyes. He grabbed it and threw it against the mesh wall. The stuffed animal bounced off and landed on the mat. Paige looked up at the sound. "Be nice to your toys, baby," she said in a warning tone. He didn't respond. Just stared at the bear lying on its side. Its fuzzy arms stuck out at odd angles. Glass eyes still reflecting the light. Another ten minutes crawled by. His bladder had been sending gentle signals for a while now. Nothing urgent yet. Just the growing awareness that he'd need to urinate soon. The diaper pressed against him. Thick padding that served one purpose. He'd peed in diapers at night for weeks now. Waking up wet had become routine. But doing it while conscious and awake crossed a different line. The pressure in his bladder increased. Not painful yet but getting harder to ignore. He looked over at Paige. She was focused on her laptop screen. Reading something that made her brow furrow in concentration. He could ask. The rules said he needed to tell her when he required a change. Maybe she'd let him use the actual bathroom if he asked politely. Demonstrated that he still had some control over basic bodily functions. But the rules also said the diaper was for use. She'd been clear about that. Asking to use the bathroom might just earn him a lecture about accepting his place. About understanding that babies didn't get to use toilets. The pressure built. His bladder was getting full. Holding it would become uncomfortable soon. He shifted position again. The diaper crinkled. Mocking him with what it was designed to contain. He tried to distract himself. Picked up one of the board books and flipped through it. "Baby's First Colors" showed simple illustrations. A red ball. A blue truck. A yellow sun. He stared at the pages without really seeing them. His bladder demanded more attention with each passing minute. Finally he couldn't put it off anymore. The pressure had reached the point where holding it caused actual discomfort. He relaxed his muscles slightly. Just enough to relieve some of the pressure. The warm stream started immediately. Flowing into the thick padding of the diaper. The sensation was strange. Warm wetness spreading across the front of the padding. Seeping into the absorbent layers. The diaper grew heavier between his legs. Swelling slightly as it absorbed the liquid. The stream continued for what seemed like forever. His bladder emptied completely into the padding. When it finally stopped, he was sitting in a wet diaper. The warmth against his skin was unmistakable. The chemical smell of urine mixed with the baby powder scent still clinging to the padding. He'd done it. Actually used the diaper while fully conscious and aware. Surrendered to what Paige had been forcing on him. The shame burned in his chest. Hot and heavy. This was different from wetting the bed. That happened while he slept. This was a choice. An acceptance that he no longer had access to basic adult facilities. The wet diaper pressed against him. Growing cooler as the warmth dissipated. The padding had absorbed everything but still transferred the dampness to his skin. Uncomfortable and impossible to ignore. Paige hadn't noticed. She was still working on her laptop. Typing away at whatever project occupied her attention. He sat in his wet diaper in the playpen while she worked. Just another afternoon in their new arrangement. More time passed. His watch showed that an hour and ten minutes had elapsed since she'd locked him in here. Still nearly two hours left. The wet diaper grew increasingly uncomfortable. The cooling moisture against his skin made him want to squirm. He shifted position but that just reminded him of what he was sitting in. Then a new sensation started. Pressure building in his lower abdomen. Different from needing to urinate. His bowels were making demands now. The baby food lunch was working its way through his system faster than he'd expected. Pureed carrots and bananas apparently didn't take long to digest. The pressure increased steadily. His stomach cramped slightly. The sensation was unmistakable. He needed to use the bathroom for more than just urination. Panic started rising in his chest. This was different. This was a line he couldn't cross. He could maybe rationalize wetting a diaper. Lots of people had bladder control issues. Medical supplies existed for that purpose. But using a diaper for everything else was something he couldn't accept. That reduced him to complete infantile status. Someone who couldn't control any bodily function. Someone who needed to be changed like an actual baby. He looked at Paige. She was scrolling through something on her screen. Casual and relaxed. Working from home while her husband sat locked in a playpen. "Mommy?" The word stuck in his throat. He had to force it out. She looked up from her laptop. "Yes, baby?" "I need to be let out." His voice came out strained. The pressure in his abdomen was building. "Please. I need to use the bathroom." Paige smiled. Not unkindly but not sympathetically either. "That's what your diaper is for, baby. You don't need the bathroom. You have everything you need right there." "No, you don't understand." The desperation crept into his voice. "I need to really use the bathroom. Not just pee. I can't—I won't do that in a diaper." She set down her laptop and walked over to the playpen. Crouched down so she was at his eye level. Her expression was patient but firm. "Listen carefully, baby. The diaper is meant for full use. That's the whole point. You need to learn to accept that diapers are for everything now. You don't get to choose. Babies don't control when or where they go. That's Mommy's job to manage." "Please." His voice cracked. The cramping was getting worse. "I can't do this. Just let me out for five minutes. I'll get right back in after. I promise." Paige shook her head. "No. You're going to use your diaper like a good baby. And you're going to learn that Mommy decides when you get changed. Not you." She stood up and walked back to her laptop. Sat down and resumed working. Leaving him locked in the playpen with his building crisis. The pressure increased. His bowels were demanding release. Cramping that made him double over slightly. He tried to hold it. Clenched his muscles and focused on keeping control. But the pressure just kept building. His body didn't care about his dignity or his resistance. It had needs that demanded to be met. He tried different positions. Standing up to see if that helped. The wet diaper sagged heavily between his legs. The padding squished against him with each movement. Standing didn't relieve the pressure. Just made the cramping more noticeable. He sat back down. Maybe that would help. But sitting just put pressure on his bowels from a different angle. The cramping intensified. Sweat beaded on his forehead. This was getting urgent. His body was going to override his control whether he wanted it to or not. "Mommy, please." The words came out as barely more than a whimper. "I really can't hold it much longer." Paige didn't even look up from her laptop. "Then don't hold it. Use your diaper. That's what it's there for." Twenty more minutes passed. The worst twenty minutes of his life. The cramping became painful. His body was screaming at him to just let go. Every muscle in his abdomen was protesting the effort of holding back. Sweat soaked through the pink onesie. His hands shook. He couldn't do this anymore. The physical need had become overwhelming. His body was going to win this fight. The conscious control he was trying to maintain was slipping away with each cramping wave. He looked at Paige one more time. She was typing something. Completely absorbed in her work. Not paying any attention to his suffering. The email draft was probably still on her phone somewhere. Ready to send if he stepped too far out of line. Another cramp hit. Stronger than the previous ones. His muscles gave up. The control he'd been desperately clinging to vanished. He felt his body surrender to the inevitable. The pressure released all at once. The sensation was horrible and immediate. Warmth spreading in the back of the diaper. The padding was designed for this but experiencing it was different from knowing it theoretically existed. He couldn't stop it once it started. His bowels emptied completely into the diaper. The padding compressed and shifted under the weight. The mess spread across the back of the diaper and squished against him as he sat there. The smell hit immediately. Strong and unmistakable. No amount of baby powder could cover this. He sat frozen in the soiled diaper. Unable to move. Unable to process what had just happened. The shame was so overwhelming it pushed out every other thought. He'd actually done it. Used the diaper completely like Paige had demanded. Reduced himself to the level of someone who couldn't control the most basic bodily function. Tears started streaming down his face. Hot and immediate. They blurred his vision and dripped off his chin. He tried to wipe them away but more kept coming. The humiliation crashed over him in waves. Everything that had happened today. The diapering this morning, the high chair feeding, and now this. Sitting in his own filth while locked in a playpen. Unable to clean himself. Unable to do anything except wait for Paige to decide he deserved attention. The smell was horrible. Filling the playpen and spreading through the room. There was no hiding what had happened. No pretending. The evidence was overwhelming and immediate. Paige looked up from her laptop. Her nose wrinkled slightly. She stood and walked over to the playpen. Looked down at him sitting there crying in his soiled diaper. "Did someone make a mess in their diaper?" she asked in a sing-song voice. He couldn't answer. Just sat there crying. The tears wouldn't stop. The shame was too much. Everything was too much. Paige checked her watch. "Well, you'll have to wait a bit longer. Babies don't get to choose when they're changed. Mommy decides that. And I think you need to sit with this for a while. Learn that fighting against using your diaper just makes things worse for you." She walked back to her laptop. Sat down and resumed working. Leaving him sitting in the soiled diaper. The mess squished against him with every tiny movement. The smell continued filling the room. His skin was starting to feel irritated from sitting in the filth. More time passed. He had no idea how much. His watch was hidden under the sleeve of his onesie. Everything blurred together into one long stretch of misery. Sitting in his own waste while Paige worked on her laptop. The smell was nauseating. His skin burned where the mess pressed against him. The wetness had gone cold. Everything was cold and uncomfortable and horrible. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably only one hour according to his earlier tracking, Paige stood up. She walked over to the playpen and unlocked the padlock. The latches came free. She lifted the top section and swung open the gate. "Come on, baby. Let's get you changed." She helped him stand. The soiled diaper sagged heavily between his legs. The mess shifted as he moved. Making everything worse. He waddled out of the playpen. Each step reminded him of what he was wearing. What he'd done. What he'd been reduced to. Paige led him by the hand toward the bedroom. The plastic changing mat was already laid out on the floor. She'd prepared for this. Known he would eventually give in and use the diaper completely. This whole afternoon had been planned. She guided him down onto the mat. The soiled diaper squished against the plastic. The smell intensified with the movement. She produced a key from her pocket and unlocked the onesie. The snaps came undone one by one. Working from the collar down to the crotch. She pulled the onesie up and over his head. Removed it completely. The plastic panties came next. She pulled them down his legs and off. Then reached for the diaper tabs. The ripping sound seemed loud in the quiet bedroom. She opened the front of the diaper and pulled it away. The mess was visible now. Brown and smeared across the padding. She kept her expression neutral. Clinical. Just completing a task. Baby wipes appeared in her hand. She cleaned him thoroughly. Wiping away all the mess with efficient movements. Dropping the soiled wipes into the dirty diaper. The wipes were cold against his irritated skin. She used a lot of them. Making sure to clean everything completely. When she finished, she rolled up the soiled diaper. Folded it with the mess contained inside. Dropped it into a diaper pail she'd positioned near the changing mat. Then she reached for a new diaper. Fresh and clean. White padding with more cartoon animals printed across it. She slid the clean diaper under him. Lifted his legs to position it properly. Generous application of baby powder followed. White clouds that settled over his clean skin. She rubbed it in thoroughly. Making sure to cover everything. Preventing rashes from forming if this happened again. If. The word was laughable at this point. When this happened again. Because Paige had made it clear this was his new reality. Diapers for everything. Complete dependence on her for the most basic care. She pulled the front of the diaper up and secured the tabs. Tight but not uncomfortable. The fresh padding pressed against him. Clean and dry. Such a contrast to what he'd been sitting in for the past hour. New plastic panties went on next. She worked them up his legs and over the diaper. The elastic snapped into place around his waist. Then she produced the pink onesie again. Or maybe a different identical one. Hard to tell. She threaded his arms through the sleeves and pulled it down over his torso. Started snapping the closures up the front. Working from bottom to top until she reached the collar. The padlock went back through the crotch loop. Clicked shut. Secured. Trapping him in the outfit once again. Paige helped him stand. The fresh diaper crinkled as he got to his feet. Clean and dry between his legs. She walked him back out to the living room. The playpen still sat in the corner. The baby toys scattered across the mat where he'd left them. She guided him toward the kitchen instead. Sat him down at the table in one of the regular chairs. Not the high chair this time. She walked to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle. Adult-sized but clearly designed like a baby bottle. Clear plastic with measurements marked on the side. A rubber nipple screwed onto the top. She filled the bottle with milk from the refrigerator. Whole milk. White liquid that sloshed inside the clear container. "From now on, you'll drink from bottles only," Paige announced. She set the bottle on the table in front of him. "No more cups or glasses. I've removed all the adult dishes from the lower cabinets. Everything you can reach. From now on, all your liquids come from baby bottles." She picked up the bottle and held it out to him. "Go ahead. Drink your milk before dinner." He stared at the bottle. The rubber nipple looked ridiculous. Designed for someone who couldn't drink from a normal cup. Another piece of his independence stripped away. Another infantile object forced into his daily routine. Paige's other hand drifted toward her pocket. Where her phone lived. Where that email draft waited. He took the bottle from her hand.