Baby at the Bar
One evening in the summer of 2002, a brown bear got dressed in the bedroom of his apartment in the city. He stood wearing a stylish, red t-shirt. His legs dressed in tight-fitting blue jeans, which complimented his worn-out black and white sneakers. He gripped a small piece of paper, which had handwritten directions for a gay bar written on it. He adjusted his black-colored belt, but the penalty for adjusting it was an awkward-sounding crinkling noise that originated from the waist. The diaper underneath his pants rattled, indicating a failure on Remy's part to contain the noise. He originally hoped that noise from the city around him would reduce the possibility of anyone noticing his absorbent undergarment.
New York City was bustling with life, and the nightlife in Chelsea was no exception. Remy walked the streets with his paws in his pockets, passing by the trees that leaned over his head. He kept his head low, and walked modestly. He felt a quick breeze caressing his muzzle while he observed the shining lights of the city that glowed brightly around him. The often chaotic and unforgiving traffic whizzed past him with horns honking, agitated drivers yelling, and one-fingered salutes waving. The shy, young bear wanted to get lost in the crowd as he made his way to his destination, which was conveniently three blocks from his apartment. This was the first time entering a gay bar, and he considered himself closeted for the sake of observing social standards. He dressed conservatively for a bar that had a notorious for being flamboyant and colorful.
Remy arrived at the Hard Cafe around 7:30 PM. He looked up at the building, which looked like an average building in New York City -- nothing unusual about it. He opened the black entrance door, and walked inside. Immediately, he noticed and was quickly dismayed by a jockstrap-wearing, muscular fox that was walking on the bar counter. The bear walked around the bar counter with his body grazing the red-brick wall to his left. After passing the fox, Remy looked over his shoulder and saw that the fox's slick, black jockstrap had some money wafting on his side.
Inside, the dor was surprisingly modest and modern. The bar was formerly a hip pizzeria in Chelsea, which was converted to a night club after new management took over. The place didn't have a snarky vibe, which Remy presumed it would have. But the club had its share of throbbing, bass-pumping electronica music that left a ringing in his ears. The club frequently offered special events. It was a Friday, and the theme was "jockstrap night." Several hunky males wandered around the club, wearing leather thongs, g-strings, jockstraps, and some protective cups. After looking at the suggestive displays of underwear, Remy believed he could tolerate the booming music for a little while. He sat down at the bar, and continued looking around.
Noticing his wandering eyes, the bartender leaned over the counter in front of Remy and said, "Boo!" The bear was startled, but once his eyes were fixed on the bartender, he smiled. The bunny bartender sported a sharp-looking, leather vest with a spiked collar on his neck, and chain bracelets that clinked loudly with a subtle jerk of his wrist. The bunny looked about five years older than Remy, and he bristled with confidence.
"Honey, just relax. Make yourself at home. We're all friends here," said the bunny in a surprisingly macho tone.
"Alright, sure thing," said Remy as he relaxed on the cozy bar stool, which had an adjustable back rest.
The bunny extended his paw over the counter. "I'm Nigel. I run this joint. What's your name, handsome?"
"Remy Jones." The bear shook Nigel's paw. "I live, like, a few blocks away from here."
"And you didn't know about this place? Lucky for you, the fun has just begun. Ain't that right, boys?"
Several males at the bar, lifted their beer bottles and shouted, "Right!" Remy laughed.
"You doin' some cruisin' tonight?" asked Nigel.
Remy nodded. "I don't know where to start, to be honest."
"Got a suggestion. You can take it or leave it. Why don't you take off your shirt? Let the boys have a look."
Remy nodded, and removed his t-shirt. He had some muscle, but also a bit of a hairy gut that unceremoniously slouched against the bar counter. Nigel tilted his head, stiffened his upper-lip, and looked at the bear approvingly. He chuckled and told Remy, "Not bad. You're a big boy. Got some meat on your bones. You have potential, Remy. I think you'll find someone for sure --"
"Hey, Nigel! Another round!" shouted one of the patrons, who raised his shot glass. "Are you hittin' on the customers again?"
"Yeah, yeah," Nigel muttered, waving his paws dismissively at the intoxicated patron. "Listen, mate, I gotta go -- but enjoy your stay!"
As soon as Nigel started tending to the other customers, Remy took a long sigh and scratched his back. He looked around, smiling wide, hoping that someone would come up to him or at least give him a look. Nobody seemed to be paying attention. He didn't find it unusual or depressing since this was his first time in a gay bar. He wasn't expecting to be swept off his feet, and lured into the bedroom by a Prince Charming. After a few drinks, he happily watched the others enjoy the party around him. Some men were randomly flirtatious, and opted for suggestive gropes instead of handshakes. Some, while wearing nothing but bulge-enhancing jocks, locked lips with other patrons and created a firestorm of passion. Nigel could only fantasize about their bedroom antics.
The night was getting wilder, and hips were grinding. The friction between dance partners could not match the friction in Remy's pants. His testosterone reached a critical mass, and his priorities slowly evolved into looking for someone to pick up, but he was shy, and didn't know how to break the ice. He had already seen far too many men in buckled, leather harnesses and revealing thongs to pass up. He rubbed his crotch for a moment before realizing he was wearing a diaper. He bit his lip in frustration, and looked down at the floor. In a drunken stupor, he searched hazily for a way to resolve his problem. He knew that in any situation, it would be difficult to explain his incontinence. At the same time, he looked at the scantily clad males in the bar, and realized that an accidental slip of the diaper, for instance, would garner some raised eyebrows in the worst case scenario.
A wolf with a thin leather harness and a sweat-covered red jockstrap sat beside Remy at the bar. He smiled at the bear and raised his beer glass. "Come on, come on. Let's have a toast. To finding love!" Remy grabbed his beer glass and clinked it with the hunky, muscular wolf.
"To finding love," said Remy as he took a drink. "You dress to impress, I see."
"Nah. This is only formal attire. Nothing special," said the wolf sarcastically. "It's jockstrap night, and you're wearing jeans. What are you packing under there? Don't be a tease." The wolf tilted his head and studied Remy's pants-crotch.
"Next time I'll slap on a jock. No big deal, right?"
"Of course not. I'm joking. I'm Dave, by the way."
"Remy. Nice to meet you," said the bear, waving to Dave.
"You got a nice, hairy chest there. Mind if I rub it a little?"
Remy shook his head, and sat quietly on the stool. Dave leaped from the seat and rubbed Remy's chest. Remy was breathing heavily, and started to feel aroused at the slightest touch. He obviously enjoyed the contact, and growled playfully at Dave. He wanted more than a chestrub. At that moment, the overhead ceiling lights dimmed in favor of the colorful strobelights that flickered around the bar. Remy jerked his waist forward, and signaled that he wanted some action. By the time Dave's paws traced around his waist, Remy swallowed nervously and felt his diaper being poked. When his paws came in contact with a thick, but crinkling sensation, Dave raised an eyebrow and sneaked a grope. Remy blushed, and tried to turn away from Dave, but it was too late. Dave was suspicious.
"What are you packing underneath those jeans of yours?" asked Dave.
"Ah, nothing..."
"Hun, don't be shy. You're in a gay bar for chrissake! Loosen that belt, unzip your fly -- and let it fly, baby!" teased Dave.
Remy changed his mind. The circumstances were unusual. Grown men were dressed in leather harnesses, chaps, jockstraps, and boots. Their attire was revealing enough to serve as a distraction, the bear thought. Remy's refusal to take off his jeans was quickly losing traction because of the alcohol. His jeans felt a little tight around him -- and with everyone else not wearing any pants, he felt like the odd man out. Dave told him to "join the party," and "hit the dance floor." Without thinking twice, Remy accepted his new acquaintance's offer. He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and let his pants fall to his ankles. He removed his socks, sneakers, and pulled his pants off completely. He set his clothes on the floor. Once he slipped off his underwear, he revealed the big surprise. He hopped off his seat, and noticed a few patron passerbys studying him with mixed results. Some stood quietly and looked at him. Others rubbed their chins, tilted their heads, and chuckled nervously.
His large, disposable diaper was mostly white. It looked wrinkled because the diaper had been worn for a long period of time, but it looked clean from the exterior. There were a series of lines, which served as wetness indicators. There were several, vertical blue lines. Between the blue lines were a pair of yellow lines, which -- if disappeared -- indicate when the diaper is wet. The diaper wrinkled around a particular spot, which was the bulge. Remy was clearly aroused, and the diaper couldn't have done a better job showing it.
Only now did the bear find embarrassment. Seeing that his bar buddy was in distress, Dave patted Remy on the back and told him, "Personally, I think that's pretty cute. What do you think of the name, 'Baby Remy'?"
"It has a nice ring to it," said Nigel. He appeared from behind the bar counter, and looked at Remy. "You know... as long as you don't have any leaks that I'd have to clean up, you're good." Nigel gave the thumbs up.
"Alright, boys. Quit starin' at the new guy," said Dave, waving everyone away. "Nothing to see here. Move along."
"Thanks, Dave. It's alright. It's not like people wouldn't find out eventually, right?" said Remy with a casual shrug. His heart was still beating from all the attention.
"OK, I bailed you out -- so you have to answer this for me. What's with the diaper? Fetish?"
Remy sat back in his seat. "It's just that I have these accidents once in a while, you know, and I can't help it."
Dave suddenly leaned over and touched Remy's diaper, just to feel that strange sensation again. The wolf felt a little turned on by the diaper itself, but he couldn't explain why. He wanted to call Remy a "dirty boy," knowing what the diaper is used for. Instead, he fondled the bear, who was appreciative of the interaction. Remy didn't say a word. He let the wolf's paws explore him. It was the least Remy could do. The situation was already awkward enough. He was content to let Dave figure everything out on his own. People continued to stare at the diapered bear, but this time, there was a unanimous showing of smiles.
"Looks like I won't be able to bail you out of this one," said Dave after he looked around the bar, and saw many eyes glaring at the diapered bear. Being the supportive barfly that he was, Dave patted Remy on the shoulder and told him, "You're on your own kid, good luck."
When the lights started flashing overhead, someone took Remy by the arm and tugged him to the dance floor. There he was greeted with more stares, but the dancing carried on. He felt a male approach him from behind, and grind against the back of his diaper in a suggestive manner. He could feel a pointy bulge grinding against his back. This caused him to experience great arousal.
However, Remy had a recurring concern, which had to do with having an "accident." He could feel that he was drunk, which increased the likelihood of having a seriously wet diaper. He was also nervous, but unusually nervous. Remy's urinary and bowel incontinence varied based on his stress levels. Wearing a diaper, and standing sheepishly in the middle of the dance floor weighed heavily on him, but something drove him to be more "open" about it. The theatrical, carefree atmosphere of the bar was inviting, but he quietly contemplated his decisions to the best of his ability. He couldn't form any solid conclusions. But since everyone around him was dancing and focused squarely on having a good time, he kept to himself, and danced with the rest of them without overthinking his situation. Was it strange for a grown, gay bear to wander around a bar wearing an adult disposable diaper? He kept asking the question to himself, and the answer -- which kept echoing in his mind -- was "forget about it."
He felt his diaper being fondled several times, which was a positive sign. He wasn't being rejected for his unusual appearance, and the eager paws rubbing his diapered crotch was assuring. He felt his dick aching for attention, and sliding around the diaper's inner-contour. His member continued to get squeezed and rubbed from the outside, causing it to rub pleasantly against the diaper. He felt what he thought was precum oozing from the tip of his shaft. In actuality, he was wetting his diaper.
Many felt the warmth of Remy's diaper increase dramatically. Remy could hear several men chuckling and teasing him. Some were heard saying, "Look at him. He's wetting himself!" Some laughed. Others laughed out of pity. Remy could only hear the sound of laughter. This motivated him to leave the dance floor, but once he returned to his seat at the bar, he noticed his shirt and pants had disappeared. He looked around the bar, and cursed in frustration as he looked for his clothes.
During the search for his clothes, Remy continued to wet his diaper. The yellow stain from the wetness increased dramatically. His leg gathers began to expand and sag. His diaper was getting heavier. The excess piss, that couldn't quickly absorb into the diaper's thick absorbent core, rested around his balls in a small, but musky puddle. It felt good to Remy by flooding his diaper, but it came at a cost: he lost social acceptance, or so he thought. He feared that piss would run down his leg, and create a puddle for everyone to see. He feared the worst. His heart was beating fast, and the pressure to get his act together was overwhelming.
"Hey, uh, Nigel? You know where my clothes are?" asked Remy.
Nigel shrugged. "Not sure, babe. You might want to ask around."
Remy did not want to ask around. He was already humiliated with his soggy, wet diaper. Without his clothes, he felt like he was imprisoned inside the bar. He couldn't leave the place in his current appearance. Thoughts kept racing through his head. He thought about the possibility that someone hid his clothes with the intent of embarrassing him thoroughly. "Mission accomplished," Remy muttered to himself. He slowly approached the dance floor, and tried to ask about his clothes under the pretense that it was only a mild inconvenience. He kept thinking, "Don't bring any more attention to yourself." Finally he had a break when he noticed that Dave was shifting his eyes nervously. The wolf gulped and chuckled when his eyes met Remy's.
"Any luck?" asked Dave innocently.
"I think I know who took my clothes." Remy crossed his arms and tapped his foot.
"Don't look at me, I --"
"I'm looking at you."
Dave laughed. "OK, OK. you got me. Follow me. We're headin' to the rooftop."
Remy followed Dave, but he was suspicious. Was the wolf really leading Remy to his clothes, or was it a trap? He was willing to follow Dave in any event. He didn't have much to lose. He was very disagreeable about the situation he was in, but there was a small hint of sexual intrigue that lingered deep in his loins. He knew the boys in the bar were amusing themselves; at least they weren't disgusted. He was being teased, but he truly could not comprehend the extent of the teasing.
Beside the restrooms was a door with a small, yellow sign showing steps. Dave opened the door and walked up the stairs. Remy followed, but he turned on the lights before walking up the stairs. While he walked up the stairs, he held onto the rail with his left paw. Every couple of seconds, he looked down at his diaper. The diaper was dark, still freshly wet and pleasantly warm. Sweat had made its way up his legs, causing his fur to itch. He felt his heart beating again with anticipation, but he didn't know what he was anticipating. He was mildly cross, not knowing what was going to happen. When he tried to speak, he stammered with nervousness.
"W-w-why are you taking me to the rooftop?" Remy asked.
"To get your clothes," replied Dave. The wolf turned his head toward Remy for a moment and snickered.
"Why go through all the trouble to do this?"
"You sure ask a lot of questions. We're right here."
Dave reached the door to the rooftop. He calmly pushed the door open, and walked outside. When Remy reached the rooftop, he studied the area. The rooftop had a surprisingly stylish tiled floor with slick, black lounge chairs scattered around. The chairs were accompanied with bright green, potted plants that gave the rooftop a festive feel. There were several patio tables, dark brown chairs, and matching umbrellas that were sprinkled randomly around except for the center of the rooftop, which remained clear. Remy sighed, and stretched his arms. For a moment, he enjoyed the fresh air that briefly distracted him from his personal chaos and confusion. Suddenly, he discovered his clothes, which were neatly folded on one of the patio tables. As he walked to the table, Remy heard Dave call his name. He turned around and shrugged heatedly.
"What?" Remy blurted.
Dave approached the agitated bear. "I'm sorry, but I just -- I need to take a leak, and I just got up here."
Remy crossed his arms, and let out a smile. "Okay, I get it now."
Dave pulled down his jockstrap a little, and showed Remy his semi-hard cock, which looked wide and average-sized. Remy moved a few inches toward Dave, and faced him. He lifted the frontside waistband of his diaper, and extended it. Dave grabbed his member, and aimed it toward the bear's navel. The wolf shook, and stroked himself for a few seconds before he pissed into Remy's diaper. Remy bent his knees a little, and let the stream splash onto his naval, and pour down his stomach. Naturally, the diaper couldn't take much more, so he started to leak. He tried pulling up his now-heavy diaper a few times, but it kept sliding down his waist. He took a loud, but pleasant sigh once he felt the wolf's piss trickle onto his solid, hard cock.
Once the wolf was done, Remy went down on his knees, grabbed Dave's member, and quickly took it into his maw. He rolled Dave's cock around in his mouth without hesitation, and Dave was surprised by his diapered partner's sexual aggressiveness. Returning the favor, Dave jerked his hips back and forward repeatedly and hurriedly. Remy felt the pressure taking it in, but it gave him an opportunity for his tongue to lap around the shaft, and lower his lips. Once his throbbing cock felt the opening in Remy's maw closing in, Dave grunted noisily, and bit down on his lip as he ejaculated into Remy. The bear gleefully swallowed everything Dave had to offer, and brisky switched his focus to jerking himself off. He dipped his paw down the front of his diaper, and grabbed his cock almost angrily. He stroked it furiously until he felt cum pouring out of him without interruption. He came into his diaper, and subsequently relaxed his shoulders. Dave helped Remy up, and escorted his new friend to his clothes.
"I'm telling you, I think we need to have a diaper night," said Dave, panting. He pulled up his jockstrap.
"You think it would be a good idea?" asked Remy. He removed the diaper, and started putting on his clothes.
"Oh, no doubt because that, my friend, was fuckin' hot. When I saw you in your wet diaper, I knew I had to have you, right there."
"Is that so?" Remy stumbled when he tried putting on his jeans. He was still intoxicated.
Dave chuckled. "Can't pass up a cute, chubby stud like yourself. It was fun, all of it. Sorry about the clothes, though."
"Apology accepted, I guess. What about the folks downstairs? I think I've scarred them for life," said Remy half-jokingly.
"Oh, no. Don't worry about them. They were all hard when they saw you. It's kinky. We're all freaks here. You're a freak, I'm a freak. Big deal!"
When the two arrived downstairs, they joined the dance floor almost anonymously without much attention. Remy continued to dance for several hours with complete satisfaction. It seemed that everyone else at the bar either forgot about the events that transpired earlier or they merely accepted the diapers as an agreeable exercise of sexuality. Meanwhile, Remy was perfectly comfortable being in the company of several young, magnificently handsome men that didn't mind the activity. He actively entertained hopes of returning to the bar diapered -- and if a "diaper night" were to ever happen, he would always be the guest of honor.
Dave kissed Remy on the cheek, and wagged his tail as he walked him to the exit. Remy had a difficult time walking since he was struck with significant fatigue. The alcohol had prevented him from standing on his own two feet after five seconds. He repeatedly collapsed under his own weight. As he passed the bar, Remy looked over to Nigel -- who was behind the counter -- and waved goodbye. Nigel simply smiled and nodded as he washed the shot glasses. Nigel called out to Remy and invited him back to the bar and "bring a box of baby powder with you next time." Remy chuckled, and turned toward the door. Dave positioned the drunk bear upright as he opened the door for him.
"You sure you can stand?" asked Dave.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, I think. I don't know," Remy stuttered.
"My number is in your pocket. Give me a call and let me know you made it home safe, alright?"
"I give someone a blowjob, and now suddenly they're my mother," Remy mumbled.
Dave laughed. "You cheeky brat. Remember, if you piss yourself in public, you could get arrested. Just letting you know 'cause you're diaper-less."
"Brush your teeth, comb your hair, don't forget your homework," the bear joked.
"I see you have your wits still. Go home... and when you come back, bring the baby powder." Dave playfully shoved Remy out the door.
"Oh, so you mean that..."
Dave closed the door on Remy. At the moment the door closed on his face, Remy felt relieved. The bear willfully deferred the last remnants of embarrassment and shame to the next morning as he felt they were irrelevant in the present. Remy felt obligated to storm back into the bar and thank the patrons for tolerating him, but he ultimately decided to return, and thank them at a later time. Once he arrived at his decision, he smiled, and continued to grin helplessly until he arrived back at his apartment.
Remy looked wasted and confused when he opened up the door to his apartment, but he was completely content. He quietly declared to himself that he was no longer going to hide from the rest of the world. After stumbling into his bedroom, he swung a hard left toward his closet, twisted the knob, yanked the closet door open, and growled with accomplishment that he could even manage to do all of those things in his state. He went through the top shelf of his closet, pulled out a large bag of diapers, and tossed them over his shoulder. The bag of diapers fell onto the bed with a soft, crinkly thud. He slowly spun around to face the bag of diapers. He pointed to the bag and spoke to it like a person. "You stay put! You're not going back in the closet!" he ordered.