When Steve saw the lock in an electronic gadget store, he almost went numb with excitement. Someone had finally answered his prayers and made the perfect device for his "games". Steve was into infantilism and restraints. His most ardent fantasy was to be locked into a crib and forced to wet his diapers, with no chance of escape. However, he had never been able to find a partner with whom to indulge in his games, and therefore was only able to pretend that he was helpless, which is not at all the same thing. Now, due to the miracle of space-age technology, he was given the chance to really make himself helpless for a time, without the need for anyone else to know about it.

It was called the "Computo-Lock", and was a hand-held padlock with the capabilities of the large timed combination locks that banks use on their vaults. It was normally unlocked by entering the appropriate combination on the small keypad on the face of the lock. However, by inserting a special "programming key" into the keyhole on the underside of the lock, the lock could be set to respond to the combination only at certain dates and times. Thus, even someone who knew the combination could only open the lock during those times when the programmer had allowed it.

Steve plunked down the $50 that the lock cost, and rushed home with his purchase. He quickly read the instruction manual and tested all the functions to make sure that the lock really worked and that he understood how to operate it. Inserting the programming key, he first set the combination. Then, removing the key he attempted to open the lock by entering the combination on the keypad. Sure enough, the lock opened. Then he reinserted the programming key, and set the lock not to open until five minutes later. Trying the same combination now yielded no results. Five minutes later, however, entering the combination worked just fine. It really worked! Steve was ecstatic.

However, Steve couldn't make use of his find immediately. Steve was single, and he lived in a large house with two other friends. None of these friends knew anything about Steve's interest in infantilism and restraints, and Steve was very careful only to indulge himself behind the locked door of his room, or when his roommates were away. He did own an adult-sized hospital-type crib with a locking top, but he kept it in a disassembled state in the attic, and only set it up when he was sure his roommates were going to be away for a long while. Of course, when he used it, he had to keep the key to the lock with him in the crib so he would be able to let himself out, and that spoiled quite a bit of the excitement. Now he had the solution to that problem, but he had to wait for the right time to utilize it.

As luck would have it, Steve didn't have to wait very long. That very day, his two roommates announced that they were going to spend the next weekend camping in the mountains. They invited Steve to come along, but Steve declined, explaining that he had to catch up on some work. Steve could hardly suppress his excitement, and eagerly awaited Friday night when he could put his plan in action.

Returning home from work Friday, Steve found his roommates gone already. They left him a note which stated that they expected to be home by 8 PM on Sunday evening. That left Steve 48 hours in which to indulge himself. He immediately went to the attic, where he retrieved the pieces of his crib, and brought them down to his room, where he assembled them. He made sure that all the bolts were screwed in tightly. Only someone with the proper tools would be able to disassemble the crib now. Then he once again tested his lock and made sure that it was functioning correctly. He set the program so that the combination would open the lock only after 5 PM on Sunday afternoon, March the 8th. He carefully put the programming key on top of his desk, where there was no way he could reach it from inside the crib.

Going to the kitchen, he filled up sixteen baby bottles with baby formula which he had bought that afternoon, and set them on a tablewhere they would be reachable from the crib through the bars. He also opened eight jars of various baby foods and set them, along with a spoon, on the same table. He didn't want to starve himself, but his menu for the weekend was deliberately limited and not very appetizing. Just to make sure he wouldn't be long in wetting himself, he drank a quart of water then and there. Then he took out eight thick flannel adult diapers from his drawer and pinned them on himself. He used special locking diaper pins so that he wouldn't be tempted to remove his diapers while in the crib. With all that thickness he could barely walk, but he knew that he wasn't going to be able to change himself for 48 hours and needed all the absorbency he could get. Then he pulled on two pairs of extra-large rubber panties, and just for extra protection, a pair of rubber bloomers as well. He didn't want to leak if at all possible. Then, getting a last minute inspiration, he went to the medicine cabinet and took out six glycerine suppositories, which he proceeded to insert in his rectum. He had to pull down all the rubber pants and unpin the diapers to do this, but he then quickly fastened himself up again. He then put on a flannel baby-style sleeper, complete with padded feet.

Now he was ready for the moment of truth. Taking the lock, he crawled into the crib, pulled up the side, and pulled the top shut. Theninserting the lock into the holes on the crib top and side, he squeezed the clasp shut. Just to check, he entered the combination on the keypad, and sure enough the lock didn't budge. There was no way Steve was getting out of his crib until Sunday afternoon. As he lay in the crib contemplating his situation, it wasn't long before the quart of water he had drunk earlier had filled his bladder, and he soon had no choice but to let go and wet his diaper. Even this gave him a special thrill, because it was the first time that he really did not have the alternative of getting up and going to the toilet. He was wetting his diaper not only because he wanted to but because HE HAD TO! Not long after he emptied his bladder, the glycerine suppositories he had inserted began doing their job, and once again he had no choice but to release his bowel movement into his diaper. Now he felt he really knew how a baby felt when it was lying in its crib wet and messy, with no way to do anything about it until Mommy came in to change him. He decided to try to eat his dinner, and spooned some strained liver into his mouth. But it tasted so awful that he began gagging and almost vomited. He decided he would rather go hungry than eat that stuff, so he contented himself with a bottle of formula, which also didn't taste so wonderful, but at least it was better than the liver. As the hours dragged on he wondered if he would ever fall asleep. It took awhile, but eventually Steve dozed off.

He awoke Saturday morning, not surprisingly, with the urge to wet again, which he promptly did. He felt his diapers getting quite wet, but was pretty sure that he had sufficient diapers and rubber pants to keep him from leaking. He was also very hungry since he had notreally eaten anything for dinner the previous night. He decided to give the baby food another try, and this time the hunger won out over his distaste, and he finished the jar of liver, plus another jar of strained carrots. Since baby-food jars aren't very large, he wasn't really satisfied, but since he had only left himself eight jars, he knew he had to save the rest for later. Now boredom really began to set in. Other than drinking an occasional bottle, wetting himself, messing himself and feeding himself baby food there was absolutely nothing he could do. To keep himself occupied, he fantasized about being kept as a helpless baby forever. The idea still excited himsomewhat, although the reality of helplessness was slowly beginning to become less attractive to him as he got more and more bored. He found himself drifting in and out of sleep, just like a real infant would. By the time Steve decided to eat his next meal of baby food, he was so hungry he didn't mind how it tasted at all. By this time (it was early Saturday evening) he had drunk half his bottles, and had wet himself many times, as well as messing himself again. He was really floating inside his diapers, but the rubber panties made sure that all the wetness was kept inside. Time really began crawling for Steve, and he wondered how he was going to get through another 24 hours of this. Before long, he drifted off to sleep. There isn't much to tell about Sunday morning that is much different from Saturday. Steve was wet, messy, irritated from diaper rash, hungry, and most of all, bored. He found that he couldn't even keep his mind focused on his fantasies, and could think of nothing but the time and how much longer he had to stay locked up in the crib. By mid-afternoon, he had finished all his baby food, and had drunk all of his bottles, and despite his precautions, his rubber pants had begun slowly leaking onto his plastic crib sheet so that besides everything else his sleeper was now soaked. But now, it was 5 PM, and he could finally let himself out. Quickly he entered the combination and pulled on the lock. Nothing happened! Had he entered the wrong combination? He tried again. Still no result. Was his watch fast?

There was a way to make the lock display the current time and date, and he checked that. The lock showed that it was 5:02 PM on February 8th. What could be wrong? Then it dawned on him. He had set the lock to open at 5 PM on MARCH 8th! The combination wouldn't open the lock for another MONTH!! Panic set in. Steve began frantically yanking at the lock, banging the crib bars, shaking the crib back and forth. But, of course, nothing helped. Steve was trapped in the crib until his roommates returned. He began to sob quietly.

Three hours later, right on schedule, Steve's roommates came home. Entering Steve's room, they stopped at the threshold, their mouths agape. There was Steve, locked in a steel-barred crib, in a baby-style sleeper, obviously well diapered, and just as obviouslydripping wet. By the side of the crib, there was a table filled with empty baby bottles and baby-food jars. They couldn't believe their eyes. Steve was in tears as he told his roommates the whole story. They burst out in laughter. "Serves you right, you big baby!" crowed Don, one of the roommates. "The key is on my desk. Please bring it here so that I can reprogram the lock and let myself out", pleaded Steve. Don and Paul, the other roommate, had a short whispered discussion, and then told Steve, "Nothin' doin'. You set that lock for March 8th, and that's when it's going to open." As Steve began to plead with them, Don and Paul began rummaging through Steve's dresser drawers. They quickly found his supply of fresh diapers, his rubber pants, and his locking diaper pins and the keys to open them, as well as more adult-sized baby clothing, bottles, pacifiers and other paraphernalia. "Come on, let's get you changed into fresh diapers.

We don't want you catching pneumonia." Steve struggled, but to no avail. Don and Paul reached in through the crib bars, and whileholding Steve down, removed his soaked sleeper and rubber pants, unpinned his sopping and messy diaper, and proceeded to rediaper him with four fresh diapers, and pulled up a clean pair of rubber pants. "We'll be good daddies and change you twice a day, so you won't need so many diapers." Steve continued to protest that they couldn't possibly serious about keeping him locked in the crib for a month, but Don and Paul left no doubt that they meant exactly what they said.

Paul went out to the grocery to stock up on formula and baby food, and Don went down to the basement to launder the dirty diapers. Steve cried himself to sleep. Monday morning, Steve hoped that the game would be over, especially since he had to go to work. But when Don came in, he told Steve, "I want you to call your boss and tell him a family emergency came up, and you want to take your four weeks vacation right now". Steve refused, but Don answered, "Since there's no way you're going to be able to get to work for the next month, it's either take your vacation or get fired for absenteeism. Besides, you're not going to get fed or changed until you make that phone call." At that point Steve knew for sure that his roommates were quite serious about keeping him locked up in the crib for the next month. Since there was nothing he could do about it, he reluctantly made the call. His boss gave him no trouble about the vacation time, and so Steve was all set for his month in infantile captivity.

Paul came in, changed his diapers, and fed him breakfast, which consisted of a bottle of juice, a jar of baby cereal, and a bottle offormula. He left a jar of strained chicken and another of strained prunes, along with two more bottles each of juice and formula. "Wedon't want baby to be hungry. You'd better finish it all before we come home or baby's going to get a spanking." So saying, Paul and Don went to work, leaving Steve to contemplate his fate -- a month spent as a helpless baby. Well, that was what he wanted, wasn't it?