“It’s been so long!”

“So long.” I echoed. Heather and I hadn't seen each other in months. We were the best of friends—still are—but as you know, when we get older, life gets in the way and it becomes harder and harder to make time for each other. We sat down on the couch with a relieved exhale to be in each other's presence once again. 

I gave a quick glance around the house. It was much cleaner than usual. Not to be rude, but Heather’s always been kind of a slob dating back to when we were roommates in college. “Did you hire a maid?” I asked. 

“Yea…something like that.” Heather smirked to herself, “So how are things with you??” She asked genuinely, not in that light conversational sort of way of people just going through the motions. 

I told her about this new guy I was seeing, Mark, and how he makes me happy and gives me those butterflies I was worried I’d never find again after my divorce. Heather listened intently, not taking her eyes off me and letting them wander the way some people do when they don’t care about the topic. 

“But what about you?” I asked once I finished, “how are things with you and Brandon?”

Heather gave a long, hefty sigh. Heather and Brandon’s relationship was the definition of toxic. It had been rocky almost from the get-go, the opposite of how it was with Mark and me. The amount of times I told her to leave him was too many to count, and it always went through one ear and out the other. So when I asked her for an update like I did now, I expected her response to be something about his drinking, his cheating, or his verbal abuse of her. Instead, she surprised me. 

“Things are…really great,” she smiled, “like, really really really great!”

I hadn’t seen Heather’s face light up like that since she first started dating him. But we’ve been through this before, she’d always say things were “great” and then unload on me about all the stupid things he’s done. So needless to say, I was more than a little skeptical. 

“But…?” I intoned, waiting for the inevitable next part of the sentence. 

“No ‘buts’ this time!” She said with a joyful melody I’d never heard her use before. Her eyes swam in an exuberant reverie. It seemed impossible to wipe the smile off her face. “He’s…changed.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I’d heard this one before. “Heather, you always say that…”

“No. Like really changed this time!”

“You say that too.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do understand, Heather!” I barked, then realized it was more forceful than I meant it to be, so I relaxed my tone despite my frustration at having to go over this again. “But you can’t keep lying to yourself. He’s always going to be a douchebag.”

It was hard to use that word to describe your best friend’s boyfriend, but it needed to be said. 

Heather, however, didn’t even flinch. Her smile stayed resolute and firm, like she was in on a secret I didn’t know about. 

“This time is different—“

“Yes, ‘different’” I finished for her, “he bought me flowers, he promised not to do it again, he deleted his instagram, blah blah blah.”

Heather laughed and nodded, as if to concede my point that her past self was dumb and stubborn, even though I'd never call her the former. 

“So what’s ‘different’ this time?” I asked, ready to hear her justification. 

Her smile never waned. In fact, she looked like she was reminiscing. “I found this…site.”

“A site? Like a website?” 

She nodded. 

“What kind of site?”

“One for…relationship advice.”

I tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. “And what kind of ‘advice’ did they give?”

Heather smirked in a wicked sort of way. “Maybe it’s better I show you…”

I expected her to grab her phone and pull up this mysterious website. But instead she reached over to the couch side table and grabbed a bell I didn’t know was there. She lifted it and gave it a little jingle. 

“Brandi! Can you come in here please?”

Brandi? That was new. I’d never heard her use that pet name before. I couldn’t imagine Brandon letting that one slide. The most he would put up with was the occasional ‘babe’, and I remember them specifically getting into a fight because she erroneously used the term “baby”. 

I didn’t even know he was here. I figured he was off drinking or partying with his friends. I could hear rummaging from the other room, but nothing else after that.  

Heather waited patiently, but soon the silence drew on until it became a bit awkward. She rang the bell again. 

“Brandi?? Get in here right now.” She called, her voice more stern this time. 

Again, we waited. Heather looked a bit perturbed, but still kept that smile. 

“I’ll be right back,” she said, climbing off the couch. She went into the room across the hall, the guest room. 

“What are you doing?” She roared, stepping inside and closing the door. “When I tell you to come, you come! I don’t care if you’re embarrassed”

Then I heard several smacking sounds. Was he hitting her?! I wouldn’t put it past him. I could hear high pitched mewling. I jumped off the couch and made my way to the room, I’d be damned if he put his hands on her. But what I saw stopped me in my tracks. Heather was dragging something in by the ear, a very pink something. 

I sat back on the couch in pure shock, mouth agape. I hardly even recognized the man in front of me. Even calling him a “man” was a stretch. 

Brandon was wearing a pink, frilly dress. He was one of those meathead ‘bodybuilders’, so seeing his bulging muscles stuffed inside something so tight and feminine was quite the jarring juxtaposition. 

His normally gruff beard was clean shaven, in fact, there didn’t seem to be a tuft of hair on his usually furry body other than his head. Which had one of those pink headbands with a flower on it that people use on babies so you can know they’re a girl.  But the weirdest part was what was in his mouth, it looked like a giant pacifier. 

His cheeks were a deep red, partly from the artificial blush of the make-up he had on, but he was doing enough blushing on his own. I’d never seen him so embarrassed, he was usually over-confident and self-centered. I guess it was hard to be with the state of his attire. 

“Say ‘hi’ Brandi” Heather instructed. 

“Hi..” Brandon said around the pacifier in his mouth. His voice was so much more high-pitched than his usual baritone. 

“Manners.” Heather intoned. 

Brandon actually cringed a bit. “Hi mith Linsey”

It was hard not to laugh at how ridiculous he looked and sounded. “I…can’t believe you got him to wear all this!”

“Oh you haven’t even seen the best part…” she giggled, “Lift up your skirt, Brandi!”

Brandon’s eyes went wide, pleading. The base of the pacifier bounced as I assume his bottom lip quivered. His nose whistled from the increased breathing. Heather inclined her head to let him know she meant business. Brandon tentatively brought his painted nails to the hem of his polka dot skirt, raising it up with trembling hands. 

I probably should have deduced what it would be, but I was still absolutely floored when I saw the big, poofy, adult-sized diaper between his quivering legs. 

I didn’t know what to say, I don’t know if there was anything to say. Luckily, Heather stepped in for me. 

“Tell her what it is, baby.” She ordered, as if I didn’t already know. 

“Issa…d-d-d…” he struggled to say the word, like it was too difficult, or he was too embarrassed. 

“You can take your paci out.” Heather told him. 

He let the pacifier drop out of his mouth. It dangled off the little ribbon attached to his stuffed cleavage. The rubber nipple was quite large. In fact, upon closer inspection, I noticed it was shaped like the head of a penis. He must have seen the surprise writ on my face, because his cheeks flushed a fresh shade of pink. 

“You were telling her what you’re wearing.” Heather reminded him. 

He scrunched up his face, as if that would make him disappear. 

“I’m wearwing a…diapurr” he whimpered. It was as if saying the word out loud somehow made it more real. 

Heather inclined her head to the side to inspect it. “Looks like you did something in your diaper too.” She observed, “did you wet your diaper, Brandi?”

Now that she mentioned it, the diaper did look quite swollen and droopy with a yellowish tint to it. 

Brandon sniffled, nodding. “Yes Mommy…I wet my diapy…”

Mommy? He was calling her ‘mommy’ now? 

This was all so bizarre, but she had to ask: “Does he…poop in the diaper too?”

Heather smiled again, turning to him. “Tell her Brandi. Tell her what else you do in your diaper.”

Brandon winced again, “I…make poo poos…”

“And how many poo poos did you make in your pampers yesterday, pumpkin?”

He hung his head in shame, avoiding eye contact. “Two, Mommy…”

Heather patted his back proudly. “It was a big day for him.” She told me with a facetious smile. It was hard not to laugh at the thought of this asshole shitting all over himself. But then it occurred to me:

“Do you…change him?” I asked Heather. 

“Oh yea,” she nodded resolutely, she even had a mischievous grin on her face. I couldn’t believe it. The same girl that couldn’t touch a cockroach with her foot enough to kill it was changing her boyfriend’s soiled diapers. 

I was at a loss for words. “When did you…how did you…”

“Remember that site I told you about?” Heather explained, “they had a number for this location called ‘The Facility’. It’s a sort of ‘rehab’ or ‘remediation’ center if you will. In addition to helping people get off of drugs and alcohol, they also have ways of turning around a wayward spouse or significant other. It took them only two weeks to break Brandon.”

I tried to take it all in. “So they made him dress like a…”

“A baby, yes.” She finished for me. “You can choose to make them a ‘boy’ or ‘girl’, and I just think wittle Bwandi wooks so much cuter in pink! Don’t you agree??”

It was hard to deny that. The dress looked so much better on him than his usual Affliction shirts, simply because of what it seemed to do to his overinflated ego. 

“So how do they…”

Heather seemed to know what I was going to say before I even asked it. “They have a bunch of different methods. They keep them in a little room that looks like a nursery. Apparently Brandon put up quite the fuss at first, but they spank them and lock them in a cage until they learn to calm down.”

“A cage? I thought you said they put them in a nursery…”

Heather chuckled at my naivety. “No no…not that kind of cage.” She snapped her fingers at Brandon, doing the ‘come hither’ motion. 

Brandon whimpered again, then sheepishly dropped to his hands and knees and crawled in front of them, sitting back on his haunches. 

“Lift up your skirt so we can peek inside your diaper, sweetie!” Heather ordered. 

Brandon obeyed, lifting his ruffled skirt and exposing that sodden diaper for us to see again. Heather crooked a finger into the waistband and tugged towards us a bit. “Take a look.” She said. 

I wasn’t exactly thrilled to look at Brandon’s penis, though I’d heard it wasn’t anything to write home about. But when I leaned over and looked inside, it was even smaller than I imagined, but that was probably because it was pressed inside a very small, very flat, cage sort of thing. I don’t know how it was possible that even a tiny penis could fit in there. It had to be very squished with no room to move or grow or do anything at all. It was, however, leaking out clear strings of fluid. 

“Wow!” I said, genuinely surprised. “And that keeps him from—“

“Yep! It’s been almost two weeks since he last had an orgasm!” She said triumphantly. 

“Four weeks…” Brandon corrected. 

“Sweetheart,” Heather said, sighing in annoyance, she scooped up the dangling dick pacifier and popped it in his mouth, “Women are talking. You will speak when spoken to.”

Brandon didn’t remark or retort. Simply let his head hang and suckled on the rubber penis like it was made to fit there. The Brandon I knew would be in a fit of rage right now, throwing and shouting at anything and everything. 

I shook my head in amazement. “I just can’t believe how…different he is.”

“See? I told you he’s changed!” Heather laughed, and I had to concede. 

“Does he…need a change?” I asked, motioning to the sodden diaper that was drooping so much it almost touched the floor, the smell of urine was becoming noticeable.  

Heather waved the notion away.  “Na he’s fine! Plenty of mileage left in there.” She snapped her fingers again. “Go get us some drinks!” She told him without an ounce of faltering in her voice. I’d never seen her so confident, so secure, so…empowered. Brandon’s constant belittling, cheating, and gaslighting had turned her into an insecure, withered husk of her former self. But now? It was like she had all her bravado from before and then some. And I got to watch as that conniving piece of shit shuffled off on his hands and knees with a puffy, pissy diaper crinkling between his legs. 

He soon returned, shuffling in on his knees with two glasses of red wine in hand. Apparently he wasn’t allowed to use his feet around the house. 

“Thank you,” I said, accepting the glass. It might have been the first time I’d ever uttered those words to him about anything. Not because I'm a bitch, but because he’s never done anything that was worth ‘thanking’ him for. Heather took hers without a word, motioning over to the edge of the room. He scurried off in the direction she indicated, turned around facing us–still on his knees–and knelt on his ankles with an audible squish of his diaper.

“Cheers!” Heather said, holding up her glass. I smiled and clinked mine against it, “Cheers!”

The conversation shifted to more normal topics like our jobs, family, and the newest season of Shadow and Bone on Netflix. By my second glass of wine, I’d hardly noticed the big, pink, pampered elephant in the corner of the room. We put on some background music and sang every word of “No Scrubs” by TLC to each other using our invisible microphones. It really was nice to see Heather in her element again, it was just like old times. The gossip flowed effortlessly and my cheeks hurt from laughing so hard.

I was in absolute stitches from Heather recanting the time she got so drunk that one of her high heels broke off, she spent the rest of the night hobbling on one peg, pinching one eye closed, and greeting everyone with a pirate voice for the rest of the night.

“Remember that time we tried to buy weed from the guy in the dorm across from us? We didn’t have a clue what we were doing.”

“How many pots can I get for 20 bucks?” Heather mimicked my innocent former self. “He could have put lettuce in a bag and you still probably would have bought it!”

“I would not!” I exclaimed, pointing a retaliatory finger but accidentally spilling drops out of my 4th glass. I watched in slow motion as it flew and fell right onto the cream colored cushions of the couch.

“Oh my god!” I gasped, laughter turning to dread. “I’m so sorry! I’ll get something to–”

Heather gently took me by the wrist, “Not to worry, my dear!” she said in her awful attempt at a British accent. “The ‘help’ will take care of that later!”

She winked over to the corner where Brandon was still kneeling. I giggled at her joke, but noticed Brandon’s face was scrunched and turning purple.

“Is he…okay?”

Heather moved her glazy eyes to his direction, focusing on him for the first time in over an hour. Her demeanor quickly changed from squinting to a burst of delight. She leaned in close to my ear so I could hear her whispering over the music. “That’s the face he makes when he’s pooping!”

I clapped my hand to my mouth. As much as my sober self was put off by the idea of a grown man dumping in a diaper, drunk me thought it would be a sight to see.

We watched as he stared at the floor, unbeknownst that we were watching him. The music drowned out our hushed voices. He ran his hands back and forth across his thighs while he bounced ever so slightly on his haunches, as if trying to squeeze out a particularly stubborn one. He even let out a muffled grunt or two!

“Watcha doin’ over there, baby?” Heather called, startling him from his concentration. 

His eyes went wide with panic when he noticed he had an audience for what was normally a private endeavor. 

“Are you making a pushy?” she asked rhetorically. “Giving yourself a mushy tushy?”

He continued to surprise me with all the shades of red and purples his cheeks could turn, and it wasn’t just from the exertion of dropping a load into his diaper. 

“Making Mommy a wittle pwesent?” Heather continued to tease. 

With my inhibitions lowered, even I joined in on his humiliation. “Not any kind of present I’d ever want to receive…”

Heather howled with laughter. Noticing Brandon had stopped dead in his tracks, she motioned with her glass. “Well go on, we don’t have all day!”

We watched with pure glee as Brandon–who was always so full of shit–filled his diaper with the same substance. 

“Don’t look at the floor!” Heather ordered, “Look at us!”

She made him maintain eye contact as he soiled himself in front of us. The only thing that would have made the show better was a batch of popcorn. 

“All done?” she eventually asked when his face relaxed a bit. He nodded despondently.  “Good girl! Now come here…”

Like a puppy that just pooped on the floor, Brandon crawled on all fours with a pitiful, deflated posture. The smell–which wasn’t very noticeable from across the room–practically punched me in the face as he grew closer. My eyes started watering and I had to choke back a gag. Heather hardly even seemed to notice. She even leaned closer, inches from his face.

“Do you think you deserve a change?” she asked. Her sweet, innocent voice from before now dripping with disdain. 

He looked like he was on the verge of tears, he nodded and whimpered fervently. “Yes pweez!!” He whined around the paci still in his mouth. He was trembling with desperation and embarrassment.

“And why exactly should I change you?” Heather asked, sitting back with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

Brandon’s eyes darted back and forth, as if he was trying to find an appropriate answer. “Be…because I’ve been a good girl today?” It was more of a question than a statement. 

Heather pondered that for a bit, “Hmm, I dunno Lindsey, do you think Brandi here has been a good girl?”

I played along with her ruse, tapping my finger on my chin in exaggerated thought. “I mean…he was pretty fussy earlier…” I saw Brandon’s eyes go wide with horror again, what I wouldn’t give to have that expression plastered on a mural on my wall. “But he certainly was entertaining…”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“But…”

His shoulders dropped again.

“I think I could use a little more entertainment!”

Heather clapped her hands excitedly. “Oooh!! What should we make him do??”

I grabbed her portable speaker, switching our Spotify playlist over to one of our throwbacks. The bass of Apple Bottom Jeans started booming. 

“Dance!” I hollered over the now blaring music.

Heather could hardly contain her laughter, motioning for Brandon to follow my command as if it were her own. 

Brandon begrudgingly got to his feet. Staring at the ceiling while he gently swished his hips from side to side.

“That’s not the dance of someone that wants their diaper changed!!” Heather howled between fits of laughter.

Brandon huffed and started working his arms in. He was never the type to dance or make a fool of himself, but we were certainly putting that to bed tonight. 

“Turn around!”

“Lift that skirt!”

“Twerk!”

“Smack that ass!”

Brandon cringed as he crashed his big broad hand against the back of his diaper, squishing the mess he made into himself. Both he and Heather were practically in tears, for very different reasons.

“Drop it low!”

“Hit the flo’!!”

His droopy diaper dipped to the ground as Flo’ Rida sang the words “Low low low low low low low low…”

By the time the song ended, my chest hurt from cackling so hard.

“So…” Heather asked when her laughter finally subsided. “Should I change him?”

I let the question hang in the air for as long as I could. Reveling at Brandon’s once dismissive face now hanging on my every word.

“If you promise to never treat her wrong again.” I said. I know it was a small gesture, and probably didn’t mean anything to him, but it meant something to me.

Heather looked at him expectantly.

“I pwomise to tweat her wight.” He said in that ridiculous babytalk. It made it that much sweeter for some reason.

“Tell her sorry.” I continued, “For everything.”

He looked up at her, like she was his everything now, the way he always should have looked at her.

“I’m sowwy, Mommy!” He looked like he was about to cry again “I’m sowwy fow evewything oi did.”

They both looked at me again. I smiled, feeling somewhat powerful myself “He can have his poopy diaper changed.”

Brandon looked like he was about to jump out of the diaper in excitement. Heather grinned, holding out her hand. “Ok mud butt! Let’s go get you changed.”

“NO!” I shouted as she started leading him off to the other room. They both jumped in surprise. It came out before I could stop myself. Maybe it was the wine in me, maybe it was my stubborn curiosity, but I had to see this. I had to see her change this asshole’s dirty diaper. As disgusting as it may be…