#oliveramy

The day had finally arrived. After six long weeks, Oliver was going to have his cast removed. He felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness as they sat in the hospital waiting room. For the first time in weeks, he wasn’t wearing a diaper. At his own insistence, Amy had helped him change into normal underwear right before leaving home. He wanted to feel like himself again — even if only for a few hours.

When his name was called, they walked together into the examination room. Oliver lay down on the medical bed, his heart beating faster than usual. But just as the doctor entered, he received an urgent call and had to step out.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” the doctor said before disappearing.

The minutes stretched on. Oliver shifted uncomfortably on the bed, the pressure in his bladder growing steadily. He tried to stay calm, but his body was betraying him. Amy, sitting beside him, noticed immediately — the way his jaw tightened and his good hand gripped the edge of the bed.

“Sweetheart,” she whispered gently, “would you like me to put a fresh diaper on you? Just in case.”

Oliver shook his head quickly, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “No… I can hold it. I don’t want to be wearing one when the doctor comes back.”

Time passed. Another doctor finally entered the room — a kind older woman — and began the procedure to remove the cast. Oliver endured the sawing with clenched teeth, not just from the noise, but from the increasing desperation between his legs. The moment the cast was off, he stood up too quickly.

“We need to get to the bathroom,” Amy said calmly, taking his arm.

They had barely left the consultation room when Oliver froze mid-step. A small, warm spurt escaped him, dampening his underwear. His face burned with shame.

“I… I can’t hold it,” he whispered, voice trembling.

Without hesitation, Amy guided him toward the accessible bathroom at the end of the corridor. Once inside and the door locked, she moved with quiet efficiency. She lowered his pants, removed the slightly wet underwear, and slipped a fresh diaper around his waist with practiced hands.

“It’s okay,” she murmured softly as she fastened the tapes. “Let go, baby. You’re safe now.”

Standing there with Amy’s gentle support, Oliver finally surrendered. The sound of him wetting the diaper filled the small bathroom as he let out a shaky breath of relief. Amy stayed close, one hand rubbing his back in slow circles, offering silent comfort until he was finished.

When it was over, she changed him into a dry diaper with the same tenderness she always showed. Oliver kept his eyes lowered, still embarrassed, but Amy lifted his chin gently and kissed his forehead.

“You did so well today,” she whispered. “I’m really proud of you.”

As they left the hospital, the afternoon sun felt warmer than usual. Amy kept her arm linked with his now-free one and smiled softly.

“Come on. Let’s go buy you those dinosaur cookies you like so much. The ones with the chocolate chips.”

Oliver’s blue eyes lit up despite his lingering embarrassment. He leaned his head against her shoulder for a moment as they walked.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For everything.”

Amy simply squeezed his hand, her heart full. She would always be there — through casts, through accidents, through every vulnerable moment — to remind him that he was loved exactly as he was.

Oliver and Amy stories

A few days after the episode at the beach, Oliver wanted to prove something to Amy. He wanted to show her he could be “normal” for one evening. So when he suggested going to the cinema, he made her a promise.

“I won’t need diapers tonight,” he said confidently. “I can hold it. I really want us to have a normal date.”

Amy smiled softly and caressed his cheek. “Baby, you know I don’t mind if you wear one. It doesn’t bother me at all.”

But Oliver shook his head. “I want to try. For you.”

In the end, she respected his wish. They went to see the new Mario movie. Oliver chose it himself, excited like a little kid. Before leaving the house, he made sure to use the bathroom one last time.

“See? I’ll be fine,” he said with a proud smile.

Amy bought them both popcorn and drinks. Oliver asked for sweet popcorn and a big cup of apple juice. Halfway through the film, he realized his mistake. The movie was much longer than he thought — an hour and a half. The apple juice had gone straight through him, and his bladder was starting to ache.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying not to disturb Amy, who was completely absorbed in the colorful world on the screen, smiling and laughing quietly. She looked so happy. Oliver didn’t want to ruin her moment.

But the pressure kept growing. His legs pressed together. He bit his lip. It was getting harder and harder to hold.

Amy noticed. She turned her head slightly and saw his tense expression.

“Oliver… do you need to go?” she whispered gently.

He nodded, embarrassed. “Yeah… but it’s too late. I don’t think I can make it to the bathroom.”

Amy didn’t hesitate. She quickly picked up the empty popcorn bucket and set it aside, then took the now-empty apple juice cup. With calm, loving movements, she leaned closer to him in the dark theater.

“Come here, sweetheart,” she murmured. “Let Mommy help.”

She discreetly unzipped his pants and gently pulled out his little pee-pee, aiming it carefully into the wide opening of the juice cup. Oliver’s face burned with shame, but he couldn’t hold it anymore. A warm, steady stream filled the cup as he hid his face against her shoulder.

Amy kept her arm around him the whole time, stroking his back slowly with her free hand.

When he finished, she carefully closed the lid of the cup and put it away. Then she pulled him closer, kissing the top of his head.

“Shhh… it’s okay, my sweet boy,” she whispered tenderly. “You don’t have to pretend to be a big boy when you’re with me. You’re allowed to be little. You’re allowed to need me.”

Oliver let out a shaky breath, the tension melting away under her gentle touch.

“I just… I wanted to be normal for you,” he mumbled.

Amy smiled and nuzzled his hair. “You are perfect exactly as you are. My sweet little boy who needs his Mommy. That’s who I want.”

She held him close for the rest of the movie, occasionally placing soft kisses on his temple while the colorful adventures played on the big screen.

By the time the credits rolled, Oliver felt safe again — small, cared for, and deeply loved.

The sun was beginning to set over the square, painting everything in soft orange and pink tones. My heart was racing as I spotted her. Amy. She was even more beautiful in person than in the photos we’d exchanged for months. Her smile lit up her whole face when our eyes met, and she walked straight toward me with open arms.

“Oliver!” she said warmly, pulling me into a gentle hug. She smelled like vanilla and sea salt. “I can’t believe we’re finally here.”

We were both nervous, but the chemistry was instant. We talked non-stop as we walked to get ice cream — chocolate for me, strawberry for her. Every time she laughed at something I said, or touched my arm lightly, I felt a warm flutter in my stomach. She was so kind, so attentive. Exactly like I had imagined.

As the evening grew darker, we ended up at the beach. The sound of the waves was calming, and we found a quiet spot with a stone bench half-buried in the sand. We sat close, shoulders touching, watching the last light disappear over the horizon.

Amy turned to me, her eyes soft. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered.

Before I could answer, she leaned in and kissed me. It was slow, sweet, and full of affection. I kissed her back, my hands gently resting on her waist. The kiss grew deeper, more passionate. Her fingers ran through my hair, and I felt myself getting more and more aroused. My body was reacting strongly — too strongly.

I tried to hold it, but the combination of her closeness, her scent, her soft moans against my lips… it was overwhelming. Suddenly, a warm rush spread between my legs. I realized too late what was happening. I was wetting myself. Right there, while we were making out on the beach bench.

My face burned with shame. I pulled back slightly, my whole body tense. “Amy… I… oh god…”

She noticed immediately. Instead of pulling away or looking disgusted, she cupped my face with both hands, her expression full of tenderness.

“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” she said softly, her thumbs gently stroking my cheeks. “Breathe. I’m right here.”

I was on the verge of tears, my voice shaking. “I… I didn’t mean to… I should have told you before. I wear diapers… not just for fun. I need them. Almost all the time. I was too scared to tell you on our first date…”

Amy didn’t hesitate. She reached into her bag and pulled out a large beach towel she had brought. With calm, caring movements, she spread it over my lap and helped me stand up a little so she could wrap it around me.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me,” she whispered while carefully helping me clean up as best as we could in that moment. “I want to take care of you. All of you.”

We sat back down, and I told her everything — how the ABDL side wasn’t just a kink for me, but a deep need to feel small, safe, and cared for. How I dreamed of being held and even breastfed by someone who truly accepted me.

Amy listened without interrupting, her arm around my shoulders, stroking my back the whole time. When I finished, she kissed my forehead.

“Then let me take care of you tonight,” she said gently. “We’ll stop by the pharmacy on the way to my place and get what you need. You’re staying with me. No buses, no stress. Just you and me.”

The relief I felt was immense. No judgment. Only warmth and acceptance.

Later that night, after we had bought the diapers and I was finally clean and properly padded again, we lay together in her bed. She held me close, my head resting against her chest. Her fingers traced slow circles on my back while she hummed a soft lullaby.

Oliver fell asleep in her arms, dreaming of all the beautiful stories they still had to live together.

This is a beautiful dog

oooohh have you got a daaaate??

I doooo yes there was a cute guy at theatre maintenance on Sunday so when he asked I gave him my fb and now he messaged me

oliveramy replied to your post: It is at this point that I remember that I have...

You be yourself. You chat. Don’t like the subject? Change it. Don’t let him/her invade your space if you don’t want him/her to. Be honest. If s/he likes you for you it’ll work out better. Good luck!!

Problem is we both speak only kinda broken Norwegian, and I only understood half of what he said that day already :/ So chatting is already stressful. But those tips are great, I’ll definitely keep them in mind, thank you!

also I feel kinda cruel because I’ll be gone for three days, then back for four and then gone for another two weeks so there’s not really much time to meet anyway