He fails potty training spectacularly.

As awareness started to wash over me again, I smiled. I felt good. I was relaxed, comfortable, and more happy then I could remember being in years. The events of earlier in the day felt like a distant nightmare. Being tied down, diapered, and gagged with a pacifier all felt like a dream. I thought to myself, maybe it was. Being forcefully babied by my wife did sound like something my fucked up subconscious would spit up.

So, to test this hypothesis, without opening my eyes, I tried to move my hands. One at a time, I pulled each of my hands to my body, and, to my surprise and delight, I wasn't met with any resistance. I tried the same thing with my feet, pulling my knees up to my chest. Just like with my hands and arms, I could move my feet and legs freely. Maybe this morning was all just a dream?

Feeling a familiar pressure in my bladder, I turned my body and sat up on the edge of my bed, the comforter still sitting on my lap. I looked around the room and nothing has changed from what I remembered prior to this morning. There were no restraints left on the bed. There weren't blindfolds or other BDSM supplies left on my nightstand. The room was clean, other than the bed being dishevelled from my sleeping in it, and was lit by a warm, late afternoon light.

Give the state of the room, I finally concluded that the events from earlier in the day must have been a bad dream. So, with my bladder aching for relief, I stood up and began walking to the bathroom. For some reason, I didn't notice the crinkling noise at every step I took or the pronounced waddle that I had with each step. I didn't even look at my reflection in the mirror as I hurriedly scuttled to my destination. My whole focus was on getting to the bathroom as quickly as possible to relieve myself. My need to pee was growing stronger much faster.

It didn't take long for my eyes to fall on my goal. The porcelain throne of my relief lay just before me. However, as I reached down to pull down my boxers, I was interrupted by a voice.

"Oh, good! You're awake! How did the birthday boy sleep?" I hear my wife's soft voice gently intone behind me.

At the sound of her voice, I turn around suddenly and face her. I can't help but smile. Despite the horrible nightmare I had earlier, she looks incredibly sexy, wearing a beautiful yellow sundress, low-cut on top to expose her ample cleavage, and cut-high on the bottom to show off her legs. I am a lucky man, I think to myself.

"I sweept guud! Danks!" I lisped out in response to Melody's question. I was oblivious to the large rubber nipple occupying my mouth, making it difficult for me to pronounce words properly. Melody giggled in response as she walked closer to me.

For some reason, as she came closer, a sensation of fear sent a shiver down my spine. Has she always seemed so much bigger than me? I thought. Before I could dwell on that thought though, Melody began to speak again.

"I am so glad to hear that baby! I wouldn't want you getting cranky on your big day. But, I have a question, why are you in the bathroom?" She asked, curiously, with a hint of mischief gleaming in her eyes.

"I've gotta pee," I responded, still oblivious to the object occupying my mouth, "I'll finish dat, den come see j'you." Melody's smile became predatory.

"Oh, baby, you didn't need to come hide in here when you potty! You can just go whenever you want to!" She said.

"What?" I lisped out, confused.

"Just make your pee-pees and poo-poos wherever you want, love. You don't need to hide like a naughty toddler. I won't judge you for using your diaper, that is what it's for!" Melody said.

At those words, my head swam. I became slightly dizzy. I grabbed the wall, and, for the first time, looked down at myself.

Like I expected, I was mostly naked expect for my underwear. My hairy, somewhat pasty dad bod on full display. What I didn't expect was the underwear I was wearing. Around my waist where, after discounting the days earlier events as a bad dream, I expected to see boxers, hung a gigantic white and pastel blue diaper adorned with a cartoon teddy bear laying on alphabet blocks. The giant, babyish garment dropped wetly between my legs. The blue line of the wetness indicator declaring for everyone who could see it that I had already thoroughly soaked the garments padding.

My mouth gaped open as I stared at myself in disbelief. As my lips parted, a pacifier that I had also not been aware of up until that point, fell to the bathroom tile accompanied by a line of drool leading directly to my parted lips.

Realization hit me like a freight train. My nightmare wasn't a dream. I was still living it.

"What the fuck, Mommy?" I said to Melody as I looked down at my wet diaper and drool covered pacifier. "Wait, why did I call you Mommy? Mommy. Mommy. Mama!" Despite my best efforts, I had discovered that, despite my best efforts otherwise, I couldn't call Melody anything but Mommy or Momma now.

I looked back up at my wife, who was now grinning from ear to ear. The totality if my situation was starting to dawn on me. If what I thought was a dream had actually happened, then, I had eventually fallen asleep with those damned headphones on. And, if that had happened, I must have given in. I'd been hypnotized.

Melody laughed as she watched the wheels turning in my head. As the depths of how fucked I was hit me, she put words to my thoughts.

"That's right baby, you fell asleep listening to Mommy's special music, and now I'm in control. You're just like the poor girls you **** in your demented little stories. You are completely and utterly at my whim."

My bladder still ached, and I almost released it in fear at my wife's words. A part of me thought that was curiously. If I had been hypnotized, why did I still have any control of my bodily functions. It didn't take long for that question to be answered.

"Don't worry though, baby, I didn't take too much from you, yet," Melody continued. "Really, I'll I've done so far is to make you a little less observant of your situation when you woke up and made sure you address me properly this weekend."

Those changes didn't sound too bad to me. However, Melody's use of the word 'yet,' was not lost on me.

"That is not to say that I can't do more if you don't behave," my wife continued. "It'll be much more fun if you know you are choosing to be my stinky little baby boy for the weekend, rather than being **** to."

"Fuck that, Mommy! I will not just lay down and be your perfect little baby! I will not just be humiliated like that! Plus, I am not just going to lay down and let you tie me up and hypnotize me again," I spat out. To emphasize my point, I reached for the tapes on my diaper, moving to rip them up in a show of defiance. However, before I could get a good grip on the tapes, Melody spoke again.

"Mommy says freeze," Melody said firmly.

I froze. Suddenly, I couldn't move. My terror started to build. This hypnosis clearly ran deeper than I expected. Regardless, I would not just give in to my wife's carefully designed ****. If anyone was supposed to choose to be the defenseless adult baby, it was her, not me. Letting myself give in and capitulate so easily would make me no better than the fictional women I wrote about in my smut. With renewed determination, I rolled my eyes up to look directly at my wife with, what I hoped, was a look of defiance and control in my eyes.

"Let me be clear, mister," Melody said with her hands on her hips, "You will be wearing and using your diapers this weekend one way or another." Melody continues to lecture me like I've seen her lecture our kids 1000 times, "You may think you have some control in this situation. That is an illusion. Like a real baby, you only have as much control as Mommy says. And, like a real baby, you will do what Mommy says."

The lecture has little effect on me. Despite this show of power, I was still certain my mind was strong enough, mature enough, to break my wife's hypnosis. I continued to ineffectually glare at her from my frozen position.

"This is what is going to happen. I am going to release you. You are going to prove to me that you are going prove to me that you can be a good baby for Mommy. If you don't, I am going to show you how much control I really have," Melody informed me.

She walked closer as she gave me further instructions. Despite my resolve to maintain my dignity, I still couldn't help but feel like her tiny frame was somehow looking over my much larger one as she spoke.

"You already told Mommy you have to make pee-pee. When I release you, you are going to prove to me you are a good baby, deserving of maintaining the control you have, by wetting your pants, do you understand?"

I just glared in response. Partially because I couldn't move my mouth or nod my head, but partially, and I would like to think this was the larger part, out of obstinance. Melody, however, choose to take my lack of response as acquiescence.

"Good boy. Mommy says you can move," Melody said.

I stumbled a little as my muscles loosened and I regained the ability to freely move.

"Now, wet yourself," she commanded.

"No!" I asserted, "I am not your fucking baby doll."

I reached for the tape of the soggy diaper wrapped around my waist again, determined to remove it and use the toilet like the adult I am. Once again, before I could make any progress, Melody interrupted me.

"Mommy says freeze," she commanded. I once again found myself reverted to a living, breathing statue. I let out a gutteral growl from my throat, the only noise I could easily make.

Melody leaned over, lovingly placed one hand on my cheek, and made eye contact with me.

"That was very, very naughty baby boy. I hoped that just freezing you was all you were going to need to be a good boy for me, but, apparently, you need Mommy to teach you a lesson," she said with a fringe of disappointment in her voice. "I am going to make sure you don't fight using your cute little diapys any more." Melody reached around me and lightly slapped my diapered ass for emphasis.

If I could have, I would have swallowed in nervousness. I have read, and written, enough ABDL smut to know what she was going to do next. She would say 'Mommy says you aren't potty trained,' or something similar, and I would release my very full bladder into my already wet diaper, causing it to leak over the floor. I'd be embarrassed. However, from my position, at least Melody and I would know that I hadn't given in, she had to **** me to set myself.

Unfortunately, my premonition of what was going to happen next was wrong.

Melody stopped making eye contact me and leaned closer into me, placing her lips next to right ear. She then softly whispered her next command.

"Mommy says you are terrified of potties. Mommy says you are certain something horrible will happen the next time you use one."

Suddenly, a new phobia took root in my psyche. When I thought about toilets, my body filled with an irrational feeling of dread. Despite my overwhelming need to pee, I was suddenly certain in the depths of my soul, that if I actually used the porcelain monster behind me, my life would be in danger.

This new fear created a strange cognitive dissonance in my head. I still DID NOT want to use the diaper strapped around my waist like the pathetic man-toddler Melody wanted me to be. However, the idea of using any sort of 'potty' filled me with such a sense of existential dread that I almost found myself wetting my pants out of fear at the thought of it.

Melody's lesson wasn't over though.

"Mommy says that you are no stronger than a real toddler and are easily overpowered by me," Melody added.

Still reeling from the first command, the ramifications of the second hypnosis-enforced edict from my wife didn't immediately concern me.

Melody pulled back from my still frozen form and crossed her arms, taking the stance of a mother, about to punish a naughty child.

"Now, baby, you already told me you need to go potty. Also, you have made it abundantly clear you do not want to use your diapers. So, I am going to give you this opportunity to prove you are a big boy. I am going to help you go potty on the big boy potty, doesn't that sound fun? Mommy says unfreeze."

"No, please, no! Mommy, you can't make me. Please, don't make me go near it!" I pleaded desperately as soon as my control came back to me. Fear had taken over my body at my wife's decree. Tears had started to well in my eyes at the thought of sitting on the toilet.

I stated to work my way out of the bathroom in fear, attempting to push my way past Melody. I thought, maybe, if I made it outside, I could pee in a bush or something, and save myself the embarrassment of using the diaper wrapped around my waist as well as the terror that came from potentially using the dreaded potty. Unfortunately, before I could get far, Melody grabbed me. I tried to push past her, but found, as I should have expected, I couldn't use any more **** than a toddler would against their mother. My wife was easily able to gain control of me by grabbing my wrists.

"No, no you don't baby! You have made it very clear you want to be a big boy and use the big boy potty, so that is what you are going to do!" Melody said, now dragging me easily by my wrists towards the porcelain monster, sitting menacingly in the corner of the room.

"Please, Mama, please, don't make me! Please don't make me use a toilet!" I started to beg as I ineffectually tried to pull away.

"This is what you wanted, big boy, so this is what you get!" My wife said as she dragged me through our restroom towards the toilet like a toddler who refused to be potty trained.

With each step closer to the toilet, my fear grew. Tears of terror welled up and began to pour from my eyes. I became unable to communicate I'm full sentences. Mucus started to drip from my nose.

"Mama... Please... No... No potty... No... Please no..." I wailed like a tantruming toddler as Melody continued to drag me across the bathroom floor.

When we got within a step of the toilet, my rational mind has given in. I was willing to do anything to avoid having to risk being eaten by the potty monster in front of me. In fear and desperation, I gave in. I let my bladder loose and flooded my already full diaper.

A loud hissing sound began to accompany my wails of terror. I felt the warm, wet urine fill the already saturated padding as I let lose. I then felt the fresh urine, with no where else to go, begin to leak out the leg gatherers of my babyish pants and form a puddle on the ground. The shame I felt at giving in was still overwhelmed by the terror of potentially being **** to sit on or, heaven forbid, use a toilet.

It didn't take long for Melody to notice the puddle growing on the floor. As she held my wrists, she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh no! I thought you were a big boy who used the potty? Did you just make pee-pees in your diapy?" Melody said with a look of victory in her eyes. She temporarily relented from dragging me across the bathroom floor, letting me sit my diapered ass in the growing puddle of urine underneath me.

I looked up at her, fear of the toilet, shame that I choose to piss myself rather than use a toilet, and hope that Melody wouldn't **** me to use the dreaded 'potty' all drifting through me. I told her the truth.

"Yes, I peed myself," I choked out hopefully through sobs.

"What was that baby? I didn't understand you. If you don't want me to make you use the potty like a big boy, I need you to tell me what you did like the pathetic toddler you are," Melody responded.

I gritted my teeth in anger at being reduced to this, but one glance at the toilet standing less than two feet from where I was sitting, my fear took control again.

"Mommy, me make pee-pees in my diapy! Pwease don't make me use da potty!" I lisped out, unable to keep my desperation and terror from leaking into the last sentence.

My wife just giggled in response.

"Are you sure? You were SO adamant you were a big boy just a couple of minutes ago? Don't you just want to at least TRY to go potty on the potty?" She responded.

My terror spiked again. She wouldn't still **** me to sit on that monstrosity would she? I could die!

**** to appease the monster that was my wife, I quickly responded.

"No, Mama! Me no want potty! Please, no potty! Me.... Baby."

I let the last word come out quietly. I let my head fall in shame. Melody had defeated me. She had **** me to choose to use my diaper. For all intents and purposes at this point, I was a baby.

Melody smiled. She looked down at me and saw, I am certain, just what I had admitted to being: a giant, pathetic, overgrown toddler, who had flooded his pampers in terror to avoid being potty trained. For fuck sake, I was still sitting in a puddle of my own piss only two feet from the toilet.

"Well, I guess I was right, you're just too little to be potty trained," she said triumphantly.

I didn't respond. Couldn't respond. I had lost. I had chosen to utterly debase myself, rather than use a fucking toilet like an adult. I couldn't claim that I was an adult or even a 'big boy' who was 'already potty trained' to her. The shame I felt at acting like a toddler was almost overpowered by the relief I felt in hearing that my wife wasn't going to try to potty train me.

For now, at least, I would have to be her perfect little man-baby.