Author's Note: While this is a work of fiction, it is rooted in fact. There are jumpsuits designed for people who tend to undress at inappropriate times. There are prison jumpsuits that lock on. There are hospitals and psychiatric units attempting to give dementia patients a better outcome by incorporating new ideas into their treatment plans. I am not attempting to make fun of anyone who has dementia or any one of the hundreds of variations of the disease, or any other psychiatric disorder. I have great empathy for those individuals and their families who struggle every day to maintain some semblance of normality. Additionally, it is well known that people who are incarcerated for long periods of time are at increased risk of dementia and Alzheimers. I have no idea if people in the courts are considering anything like this to help prisoners with dementia, but I hope programs in place are actually working. This is a work of fiction. Please do not think of it as anything but fiction.

Chapter 1

"I'm sorry, but I can't unlock or unbuckle you."

She pointed to the notice. In bold print it said, "PUBLIC NOTICE: SEX OFFENDER. Anyone wearing a locking jumpsuit and harness outside any Department of Corrections Center must be considered a sex offender. Offender jumpsuits and harnesses are designed to stop the sex offender from disrobing outside their home or correctional center. GPS ankle units are used to ensure locations compliance. NOTE: Any unlocking of a Department of Corrections harness or jumpsuit of a convicted Illinois Sex Offender or DCC Patient is guilty of a misdemeanor punishable by a $275.00 fine, incarceration for not more than 30 days, or both. (ILDOC2554.1)"

"See, if I unlock you, I could go to jail. I don't want to do that, and I can't afford any fine either. So, no, I am not going to unlock you, or unbuckle you, or anything else. In fact, if you don't get out of here I'm going to call the cops."

"But I'm not a Sex Offender," I tried to plead. "My girlfriend did this to me. She works at the . . ."

"I'm calling the cops. You had better get out of here before they arrive. Oh, just so you know, I don't like sex offenders," she angrily said. When I tried to protest, but she said, "Look I don't care what you did. Just get out!"

At that point, as she picked up the telephone from next to the register, I turned and saw my reflection in the glass door of the gas station. Although I was at a loss for words, I knew what I looked like. I wore a pink jumpsuit with the words, "Sex Offender and Dementia Patient stenciled on my legs. There was a zipper that ran up my back and two buckles that covered the zipper between my shoulder blades. A harness crossed under the buckles of my jumpsuit that had special buckles that needed at least two hands to unlock. Worse yet, they were out of my reach in the middle of my back. I could not reach the buckles between my shoulder blades. On my left ankle was also a locking GPS unit. It showed my parole monitors where I was at any given time. The problem was, I was not supposed to be wearing any of this!

It all started a seven months ago. My girlfriend, Shelly, had just gotten a new job at the local federal prison. She had started working there as a guard, but once she got her Master's Degree in Psychology, her boss transferred her to the psychiatric wing of the prison to help with their newest project - allowing non-violent sex offenders to spend with their family members while on parole on weekends. Of course it wasn't as simple as all that, these men had to abide by very stringent rules. Shelly was responsible for making sure those men followed the rules. I don't know why, but when I heard rumors about what Shelly really did, I was also a little envious of those men being put into those outfits by Shelly and her staff, and I secretly wished Shelly would bring home one of those outfits and put me into one for a weekend. I'm not sure why, but I did.

One day, as we were laying in bed, I got tired of the wondering, so I asked Shelly about what she really did at the prison since she had been transferred into the psychiatric clinic. She said, "Most of the prisoners I take care of, well we call them residents now. They tend to be older men who were arrested as non-violent sex offenders."

"Non-violent sex offenders? I didn't know there was such a thing." I said, stroking her hair.

"Yeah, there is. And these men tend to be older men. Many have been in the system for a good many years. Many of them have various forms of dementia. They tend to try to either disrobe at inappropriate times to play with themselves, or they try to expose themselves just for the thrill of it. They want to get a reaction from us. Often, we never know for sure which it is. It doesn't really matter because either way, they don't really hurt anyone, but, they are still considered sex offenders because of the way the laws are written. Anyway, the State has allowed us to try a new program. We are trying to let those offenders get to go home on the weekends to be with family. We hope the experiences of being with family will help some of them."

"Is that safe? What is to stop them from just wandering off?" I asked, still stroking her hair. It smelled of honeysuckle.

"Sure, well as safe as we can make it. We don't allow anyone who is violent to be part of the program. Even if they had a history of violence, they are not allowed to be part of it. Besides, they are always monitored with a GPS unit. It gets locked to their ankles so they can't disappear. And to keep themselves from exposing themselves, they also get to wear special jumpsuits that they can't get out of on their own." Shelly explained with a smile.

"What about using the bathroom? Aren't you afraid they'll try to expose themselves when they go to the toilet?" I asked, now stroking Shelly's breast as she cuddled deeper into the cradle of my arms. We were laying in bed together, and she was now out of her lounging dress and naked beside me. I was getting more and more erect now. We moved in bed to face each other. Then she rolled over and slid closer. I felt her pull herself even closer. She reached around and pulled my hand down between her legs. I began caress her and she giggled.

"No, Johnny," Shelly answered, "they get put into diapers before they leave. The jumpsuits are designed so they can't get to their genitalia and they cannot undress on their own. That means they can't use any toilets without help too, so if they are anywhere other than home or the prison, they end up using their diapers instead."

"How do the jumpsuits lock? Do they have padlocks or something?"

"No not really, the jumpsuits have special buckles that need two hands to unbuckle. Most people wearing them can't even reach the buckles with one hand, much less than the two hands needed to open the buckles. For the most serious cases, we also use a special harness that also needs two hands to undo the buckles. Between the two, the jumpsuit and the harness, we've never had anyone successfully escape from one of these outfits."

"I bet I could," I said with a laugh.

"I'd take that bet any time, Johnny. But what would I win?"

"What would you want?" I asked, squeezing her to me. I could feel myself getting engorged. My penis was now pressing up between her butt cheeks. She giggled some more.

"Oh, it wouldn't matter anyway, there is no way I could smuggle a jumpsuit out without asking my supervisor, and I don't think he'd approve, so I guess there is no way to find out if you could escape anyway." Shelly snuggled down some more, and we made love. Afterwards, she told me it was time to go to sleep. When I tried to entice her some more groping, she grabbed my hand and smacked it and laughed. A few minutes later, we made love once again. Then I fell asleep and had a crazy dream. Shelly was diapering me. I was suckling on her breast. When I looked down, I was diapered and wearing a jumpsuit. I had no way to take it off. I was shackled and Shelly was wearing her guard uniform holding giant keys. She was smiling at me and said, "Still think you can escape?" Then I woke up.

The town I lived in was about forty miles from where Shelly lived and worked at the prison. She had her own apartment there. That town was fairly small and I noticed the last time I was there that notices had gone up all around that town instructing people not to unlock jumpsuits or harnesses for any reason. When I asked Shelly about them, she told me the men who wore adult diapers under their jumpsuits and harnesses would sometimes try to get people to unlock them so they could use toilets outside the prison or their residences. Once the prisoner was unlocked, they would expose themselves to the unsuspecting people working at the gas stations and restaurants. However, once the signs and notices when up, no one had successfully disrobed, or gotten anyone who wasn't supposed to unlock them, to unlock them.

Over the next few months, every time I saw Shelly, I asked her even more about her job. Then I'd kid her and ask her and when she was going to lock me into one of those jumpsuits. I tried to make a joke out of it, but I think she knew I was actually serious about it.

One day, she surprised me. Shelly told me she was now the supervisor of the unit. Now Shelly was not only the one who made sure the men were properly diapered and locked up in their devices before they left, but now was also the person who did all the paperwork. That meant that she now was able to put me into jumpsuits and harnesses anytime she wanted too!

That night, hours later, after a great deal of love making and even more alcohol, I once again suggested she diaper and lock me up. After all, I told her it sounded like fun! She told me that one day soon I might get my wish. Then she laughed, she turned over and went to sleep. Normally, I would have also, but instead, that night I could not sleep, and instead I got hard once again. I tried to make love to her again, but Shelly was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

Several weeks later, we were at a dinner party in my town. Someone neither of us knew, asked Shelly what she did for a living. Shelly told the woman that she worked at the prison. When pressed, Shelly eventually said, "I diaper men and lock them up in special clothes and harnesses so they can't expose themselves."

"Can they have sex?"

"Not without someone unlocking them from their jumpsuit and harness first," Shelly said.

Two other woman who were listening also laughed. One pointed at me and said, "Sounds kinky. You ever do that to your boyfriend? Keep him locked up like that so he can't play with himself?"

"Not yet," Shelly replied and then added, "but one of these days if he does keep playing with himself, I'm planning too!" The women all laughed and smiled at me. Shelly nodded in agreement.

When we got home, I teased Shelly about what she said and asked, "So when are you going to diaper me and lock me up in one of those special jumpsuits?"

"If you're not careful, I'll do it to you while you're on vacation. That way I'll know you aren't playing with yourself while I'm at work!"

Slightly drunk I said, "Promises, promises!" I said, laughing it off. Knowing that my vacation was two weeks away I added, "I dare you. Put me in a jumpsuit for the entire time."

"Oh, it wouldn't be just the jumpsuit. I'd fill out the paperwork to declare you a menace to society. A real sexual pervert who can't keep from touching himself or from exposing himself to others."

"Sounds like fun. Go ahead and fill out all the paperwork. Do it for real! Go ahead, I can take it!" I dropped my pants and said, "See? I'm a sex offender who can't keep his pants on!" I chased her around the apartment with my pants around my ankles, my genitals bouncing in the wind, and my hands groping for the woman I love! But when I caught up to Shelly, she performed some sort of jujitsu move on me and the next thing I knew, I was on the floor with her knee in my back. My right arm was pulled up and held behind me. Then she hand-cuffed me! A moment later, my other wrist was also cuffed and she climbed down off me.

After she rolled me onto my side and said, "Honey," she checked my shackles again and continued, "if you're serious about this, I can make it happen. In fact, I can make sure everyone in this little town thinks you're a real sex offender. That way you will not be allowed to use any toilet in town, except for the one in this apartment or at the prison. Is that what you want sweetie? Is that what you really want?"

In a show of defiance, I tried pulling at my cuffs and said, "Yeah, that's what I want. All I really know is what you've told me, and what I've heard from some of your friends. I want to find out the truth. I want to find out what you really do to those guys. You tell me stories, but I'm really curious. I want to know what you really do."

"No, you really don't." Shelly said, smiling.

"Yes, I really do!" I smiled back. "I want to experience what you do to them for myself. I want to know what it is like to be completely at your mercy. I want to be diapered and kept locked up by you. Now that would be a fantastic vacation! Especially since you can't get any time off for another few months."

"Fine. If that is what you really want, then lets do this right. Jumpsuit, harness, GPS unit, and diapers, twenty-four-seven for two weeks, with no toilets at all. No breaks, and no pleading to be released! I can make that happen!" She yelled at me.

"Fine!" I yelled back.

"So if that's what you want, tell me now. Otherwise, lets forget it and I'll just treat you as one of my prisoners. I'll be the jailer and you'll be my trustee. We can play . . ."

"Honey, as much as that sounds like fun, I'd really like to find out what its like to be your patient."

"They're called residents, not a patients, and not prisoners either - resident." Shelly said, now standing.

"Fine, resident," I said trying to sit up with my hands cuffed behind my back.

Shelly walked over to the computer. "If that is what you really want, then I'm going to go ahead and print off the real paperwork. You're going to sign yourself into my psychiatric hospital at the prison starting next Friday night. Since I'm in charge of the program now, I'll make sure to keep you that way for your entire vacation. So tell me right now. Is that what you really want Johnny?"

"Absolutely!" I was almost beaming. I still was trying to sit up, but I was really happy. She was going to do it! Or was she?

"You know, it is not going to be fun. You are not going to enjoy the experience." Shelly kneeled down next to me and rolled me over onto my back and onto my hands. That caused some pain, but I didn't say anything more than a grunt. I told Shelly that that was exactly what I wanted! "But know this honey, once you sign that paperwork and my doctor approves it, I cannot let you out of the program. Is that clear? No matter what happens, you'll be considered a sex offender and nobody will be able to change that once we start." Shelly waited for my response. "In fact, once you sign it and the doctor approves it, I won't be able to get you out of it, even if I wanted too!" When I didn't say anything, she grabbed my still cuffed arms and pulled them up, causing me enough pain to get a reaction. "Is that clear? You will be locked up and not even I will be able to get you out without her okay!" She yelled at me this time.

"Yes, I got it. I'll be locked up and you won't be able to get me out. Fine!" I yelled back defiantly.

She leaned on me, causing me some more pain and said, "Only the doctor will be able to sign you out of our program. I won't be able too. I'm not joking about that. Do you understand?" I nodded and said yes. "If she decides not to sign you back out, you'll stay on the sex offender listing and will have to wear the jumpsuits for a very long time - and until she does sign you out of the program, you're in it. Got it?"

"Will you keep me diapered the whole time too?" I asked with a smile.

Shelly was not amused. She took her knee off my spine and said, "Fine, you wait here and I'll go print off the documents I'll need you to sign." She got up, went to her laptop computer, opened some files and then began printing them off. As they were printing, Shelly came back to me and unlocked my wrists from the hand-cuffs. She told me to go over to the kitchen table and to sit down. I did as I was told. The first form she printed was a Sex Offender Registration Form. "We'll fill this out together and you sign it. Just fill in all your information here and here, and I'll fill in the court documents later." I signed the documents where Shelly told me. The documents looked real, I thought. "Tomorrow I'll get my boss to sign these as your witness."

The next form was a Family Court Document. It gave Special Power of Attorney to anyone I designated. "Sign this to allow me to have you committed." I signed it without a second thought. The next form was an Involuntary Commitment Form. She held it and asked, "So tell me why you should be committed." When I didn't respond, she said, "Patient was caught on numerous occasions exposing his genitals to women at gas stations and restaurants. Patient claims it is a compulsion that he cannot control. The attending physician agreed to have him committed for further observation." Shelly looked up at me. "There, that should do it, short and sweet. What do you think honey, care to try to expose yourself to any women in gas stations in the area to make this thing air tight? No? Too bad, because it is exactly what another person has been doing in the area and it turns out that his description closely matches yours." Shelly smiled and added, "As far as I know, they have not caught that guy yet, so this should work out just fine." She got up and went for the next document. It was a court document that had my name on it, along with a case number. It also listed a judge's name. I saw that it was already hand stamped with the county record's stamp. "I see the judge every other day. I'll have him sign this on Friday just before your vacation starts to start your seventy-two hour observation." Shelly waited for my reaction and then asked, "Want me to keep going?"

"Absolutely, do your worst. I want the full treatment. I want to be at your complete mercy for the entire two weeks."

"Fine." She got up and came back with several more documents, "Since you want me to do my worst, don't even bother to read these. Just sign at the bottom of each page and I'll keep the rest of the pages to be a surprise." She snickered.

I knew she was out of her bag of tricks, so I signed them all and said snidely, "Anything else?"

"I'll need a check from you for five hundred seventy-five dollars for the cost of the GPS unit to pay the fees. Once I have that, and my boss signs off on you, you'll be picked up next Friday evening after work, and you'll spend the seventy-two hours at the prison psych unit in patient facility. While there you'll be checked over by our prison psychiatrist, who is also my boss. Then you'll be put into the special program as an involuntary patient and my doctor will sign you up for the full treatment plan."

"Involuntary? Wait a minute, I thought this was a voluntary thing?"

"Nope, you get picked up on an involuntary order, but then volunteer for the jumpsuit program so you can get out of the center. At that point, neither I nor anyone else will be able to get you out of the program until the prison psychiatrist signs you out of it."

"Your boss is the prison psychiatrist, right?" I asked.

She waited for that to sink in. "Let me make you understand? I've said this before, but I want to make sure you really understand. I'm not playing here. If I start this paperwork, I won't be able to get you out of the program, even after your vacation is over. Only Doctor Shreveport, the prison psychiatrist, who is also my supervisor, will be able to get you out of the program once you've been entered into it. So if this what you really want, I'll fax everything over there and you'll be able to spend your entire vacation as a diapered sex offender, completely protected from yourself." Shelly smiled. She then gave me that expression she always does, when she knows I'm about to do or say something stupid.

But now I knew now it was all a bluff. She was trying to get me to drop it. Besides, I knew she'd be able to get me out of it whenever she wanted too. Just as I knew that, I knew also knew it was her way to see if I was really serious about this. "Of course this is what I want. Go ahead and do it. I want to experience what you do. I want to know what it's really like for the guys you diaper." I waited for a moment. When she didn't say anything, I added, "I want you to sign me in as a sex offender and treat me like one of them. Go ahead, I dare you!"

Shelly picked up the paperwork and smiled, "Johny, don't say I didn't warn you. So now I accept your dare and I'm going to make sure you get everything you asked for, and then some! Good night honey," Shelly said viscously. "Enjoy your week of freedom. After that, I'm going to make sure you are really treated a sex offender. Complete therapy sessions will be mandatory- all of them. But just for your sake, I'm going to ask you just one more time, Johnny. Do you really want me to do this to you?"

"Absolutely!" I said, with a big grin. This was going to be so much fun!


Chapter 2

Shelly worked at prison with dementia patients who could go home on parole on the weekends provided they wore special jumpsuits and harnesses designed to keep them from exposing themselves. She was now the supervisor and I asked her to put me into the program so I could really find out what she does for a living. In reality, I just wanted her to put me into bondage and to diaper me and to play with me as a jailer. Although I thought I did, I didn't really understand the implications of what I was asking.

"Fine. If you want me to do this to you, then lets pretend we are not girlfriend and boyfriend anymore for this week. I don't want anyone around here to think we are an item. That way I know you'll be taken care of by my staff correctly. After all, we don't want them to go easy on you, now do we?" I just shook my head. "Good, then I want you to go home and do everything you would normally do, but please don't call or contact me." When she saw my face, Shelly said with a sigh. "Oh don't worry Johnny, we're not breaking up. I just don't want you to try to influence me to stop this now that I've agreed to do it. But just to be clear, one more time. This is your last chance . . ." She walked over to the scanner. Once everything was scanned into the computer, Shelly turned and looked at me with the quizzical look and one more time said, "This is your very last chance!" When I didn't say a word, she pushed the enter button. "Everything is being sent to my work e-mail." Then Shelly shut down her computer and waited for me to respond. When I didn't say anything again, she smiled one more time and said, "I'm tired. I have a lot of paperwork to finish in the morning. I think it is time for you to go." She pointed to the door. When I didn't move fast enough, she turned her own back and closed the bedroom door. She then locked the door. I am sure she was waiting for me to knock on it, but instead of knocking, I waited to see if she was going to open the door and invite me into her bedroom for one last night of sex. When she didn't, I let myself out the front door and went home. It was a slow drive home. I was horny and nervous at the same time.

That work week also went slow. Even though she told me not too, I tried calling Shelly anyway. All my calls went immediately to voicemail. I had expected her to pick up, but she never did. Then I tried texting her. Finally I emailed a message telling her that I wanted to make sure she was really going through with it. When I didn't hear anything back from her, I went to Shelly's apartment. As I stood on the doorstep knocking, a police officer arrived. He asked me what my name was. I told him. He double-checked his little booklet and told me that there was an order of protection against me from Shelly. He told me that I had to leave. I told him it must be some sort of mistake, but he said, "Sir, if you do not leave, or if you come back, you will be arrested for violating that order of protection. Also, don't call or text or email. Is that understood?"

I said yes, but I was dumbfounded. I wondered what I should do. In the end, I went home and watched baseball on television. Monday came and went, and so did Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. However, Friday morning, I woke up with dread. Today was the day. If Shelly had done what I asked her to do, then today after work I'd be arrested and taken to the psychiatric hospital. But what else could I do? I could not worry about that. So I showered, went to work, and hoped they would not come get me in front of my co-workers.

Friday passed even more slowly than usual. As was my custom, I ate my lunch at my desk. I answered phone calls and watched cat videos on my computer. At three-thirty, I checked my e-mail one more time. Finally Shelly had sent me an e-mail! I opened it right away. Shelly wrote, "Today is the day! Enjoy your new life Sex Offender!" I closed the email and then went into my Supervisor's office and asked if it was all right if I left an hour early. I was done with all my work and I was starting my vacation.

"Sure John enjoy it. You deserve some extra time off. That sale was masterful, the way you played both sides against the middle. You'll get a good bonus for that one. Any plans? Going anywhere?" He said looking over his own calendar. "I've got vacation in three weeks. Heading to Las Vegas, got tickets for Penn and Teller. You?"

"Fishing, relaxing, maybe some golf. You know, the usual stuff I never normally have time for. But I'm staying close to home," and then I added, "but don't call me! I'm not answering the phone!" My Boss laughed and waved me out of his office and told me to have a good time.

After closing down my computer, I went down to my car and drove home. I got into my apartment and checked the television listings and then went to my computer and unlocked it. As I did, the telephone rang. I looked at the phone. It was an unlisted number. I answered the telephone anyway. However, as I did, the door opened with two police officers with tasers drawn rushed into the room. The cops came at me and I dropped the phone. They grabbed my arms and twisted me around and handcuffed me. They told me I was not under arrest, but they needed to make sure I could not hurt myself as they transported me to the hospital so a doctor could talk to me.

In all the commotion, I imagined Shelly standing there in the room mouthing, "This is what you wanted, Johnny!" Then, still in my semi-daydream state, she seemed to step out of the way while I was half dragged out of my apartment and put into the back of a waiting squad car.

The next few hours were a blur. Several people came to talk to me. I was poked and prodded. I was weighed and fingerprinted. I had my picture taken, and then was poked some more. Then I had to pee into a cup while one of the guards watched. After examining me from head to toe, they even went so far as to check my orifices, then they gave me some blue scrub like pajamas to wear. The pajamas were marked on both the back of the shirt and on the legs of the pants, "Psychiatric Patient."

While this went on, Shelly never came to visit. That really surprised me. I thought that she would have been there to tease me. I tried to ask about her, but no one told me anything. Instead, I was locked into a bare room that contained an uncomfortably bare rubber mattress, a small locker, and a sink. A closed circuit camera was on the ceiling looking down at me. There was no toilet, which also surprised me. The nurse told me that I had to push a button each time I needed to use the toilet. That night, I was given a single, very thick scratchy blanket to cover up with. Another nurse told me I'd meet the doctor right after he gets done with morning rounds. She added, "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll let you go. You'll be fine." In fact, that was the message I got from several employees of the psychiatric hospital. It reminded me of that old song, "Don't worry; be happy." I hated that song, but I played along. I knew Shelly would make sure the doctor would not release me, and I was right.

The following morning, right after morning rounds, I had a quick meeting with a medical student. The medical student told me the doctor wanted me to join a group of other men in a meeting room. How I reacted to that environment would determine the my next course of treatment, or if I was going to be released. "Be good and you'll probably be released. That's generally how it works."

The only woman there was a woman doctor. She wore a white lab coat and introduced herself as Doctor Shreveport. That was the Doctor Shelly told me she'd talk too about getting me put into the jumpsuits and harnesses. I sighed when they started talking about their feelings of inadequacy and how they felt compelled to expose themselves to little girls and sometimes ugly women too. When it was my turn to talk, I told them I didn't feel much like sharing. Doctor Shreveport said, "If you won't talk, I cannot recommend your release. Is that what you want Johnny?"

I didn't know what to say, so I just said, "Look, I feel like exposing myself to women too." To make the point, I reached towards my crouch.

"Why is that Johnny?" Doctor Shreveport asked quickly.

I said the first thing that came into my mind, "Ah, because I love seeing their reactions? It gives me a hard-on."

Doctor Shreveport seemed pleased at that comment and wrote a note into a little booklet on her lap. When the group broke up she asked me to stay. Once the other men were gone, she had me sit back down so she could talk to me in confidence. "Johnny, Shelly told me that you want to experience being a sex offender. Why is that?" She was still writing on her note-pad.

"I don't really. I just wanted to see for myself what Shelly did. I was curious about the whole process. Besides, I just wanted to get a reaction from her. We were having an argument and I just blurted out that I wanted to be dressed that way too. So, no, I'm not really looking to be a sex offender, I was just trying to get at Shelly because I thought she was bluffing."

"Now you know that she did not bluff." Doctor Shreveport said matter-of-factly. "Isn't it really true that the idea of Shelly diapering you and keeping you locked up in a jumpsuit makes you horny?" When I didn't say anything she added, "Tell me the truth Johny, you want Shelly to dominate you, don't you. It's perfectly normal to have those kinds of feelings, those kinds of fantasies. Over time you probably even began masturbating to the thought of her doing this to you. Isn't that right?"

I blurted out,"Ah, yeah, I did. I loved the idea of Shelly putting me into diapers and the jumpsuits."

"And you became jealous of the men she really was doing that too?" Doctor Shreveport prodded.

"Ah, not jealous, I was envious, but yeah," I agreed.

"Johnny, so you know the difference between jealousy and being envious? Most of my patients don't." Doctor Shreveport stated and then asked, "Do you always feel the need to correct other people's grammar?"

"Ah, sometimes, I guess it's just second nature. I had a very stern English teacher in high school."

"Is that where you met Shelly?"

"No, we met through a mutual friend," I said truthfully.

"Johnny, let me be honest with you. I really like Shelly. She's my subordinate, but she's also friend of mine here at work. She's also one of our best employees. She's talented and I'm glad she's got a good guy to love. I care a great deal about her. At first, when she told me you wanted to do this, I was incredulous. But now that I've met you, I have to agree that you need to experience the entire program of what we do here, so you'll never have to wonder about it again." She signed some more paperwork and said, "I'm going to recommend that you be put into the program for sex offenders so you can experience everything Shelly does, for yourself."

"Great," I said quietly.

"That is what you want, isn't it Johnny?" Doctor Shreveport asked.

"Ah, yeah, I guess." I was having second thoughts now. Is this what I wanted? Did I really want this or was it all just some fantasy?

Before I could answer myself in my head, Doctor Shreveport added, "Good because I have your paperwork all set. Shelly told me you signed it all at her place last week. We really don't need anything else to get this taken care of." She looked up from her pad and looked me in the eye and said, "Johnny, let me be absolutely clear with you. Shelly is a friend of mine. I've known her a long time. She asked me to make sure you get the entire treatment, and that is exactly what is going to happen." She stood up. For the first time, I was scared. "From now, and until next Wednesday, you are going to be given sex aversion therapy. Some of the therapies you will not like, but it can't be helped. Do all the things you are told or else things can get pretty rough. Believe me when I tell you that you don't want to experience everything that we are going to do, but since you want to find out what Shelly really does, you need too. Have a good time Johnny and do what you are told."

"I'll do as I am told," I said standing.

"Good, because if you don't . . ." Doctor Shreveport let that statement hang in the air, and she left.


Chapter 3

For the next three days, I was the model patient. I went to group activities, I participated in quiet times, read, relaxed, did exercises, and ate what I was supposed to eat. I also took the medications I was told to take. Unfortunately, the medications made me somewhat loopy and at one point, I almost passed out. Another time, I did pass out. I woke up in a hospital bed with the rails up and I was restrained with soft restraints. The nurse sitting next to my bed told me that I tried to fall out of bed three different times over the last several hours. The Doctor blamed a reaction to the medications for the problem and told the nurse to release me as soon as I woke up. What I didn't notice, until I sat up, was that I was also wearing a diaper. "Am I wearing a diaper? Why am I wearing a diaper?"

"Ah, Doctor Shreveport's orders. From now on, you can't use the toilets. Sorry, but you'll have to use diapers for several days to get ready for your parole."

"How come?" I asked, more than a little excited now. "Who diapered me?"

The nurse blushed just a slightest shade of red, "I did. But I had help. Any time you need a diaper change, just ask and we'll help you with that. Understand? You are not allowed to take your diaper off by yourself."

"Why is that?"

"Again, Doctor Shreveport's orders. Oh, and if you do dig in your diapers, we'll need to put you in a special jumpsuit to make sure you can't do it again. I'd recommend you not doing it."

"Oh, you mean like this?" I screamed and then thrusted my hands down my patient pajama pants.

The nurse jumped up and pushed a button on the wall. Seconds later, two big men arrived and I was restrained again, but this time in leather restraints. I tried to fight, but it was of no use. I was restrained in moments and the two men and the nurse left. She turned and said, "I told you not to do that." She closed the door with a thud and locked it from outside. A small window opened and I saw Shelly. She shut the door almost as fast when I yelled out her name. No one came. I'm not sure how much time passed, but eventually, I fell asleep from the medication. The door opening up woke me. I was still in restraints and still in bed. Shelly and Doctor Shreveport came into the room. They dismissed the orderly, and told him to wait outside. The door shut and locked and the two of them looked at me.

Shelly spoke first. "So how do you like being a patient Johnny?"

I wanted to give at least one jab back, so I said, "I love it. i wish I could stay this way indefinitely. How about it Doctor Shreveport, could you keep me this way for an extra week or two?"

"Oh I could, but what fun would that be?" Doctor Shreveport checked my restraints to make sure they were not too tight and then gave me a shot in the arm. "This shot is going to keep you nice and relaxed. You'll get one every four hours for the next couple of days. By then, you'll be peeing and pooping without too much effort. Oh, and by then the judge will have signed your paperwork too. At that point I can get you released a sex offender on home detention and parole. But until then, Shelly is your patient advocate and your authorized agent. She's already told me she wants me to continue to put you through the ringer, so that's what we're going to do. You are not going to enjoy it, but that's what I've got to do, sorry. After that, you'll go home as a sex offender on the state registry. You'll be wearing pretty pink jumpsuits and a harness. You'll also be monitored 24-7 with a GPS unit on your ankle."

"Ah wait a minute, you're kidding right. I'll be on the sex offender registry? For real?"

Shelly said,"Unfortunately, the police found child pornography on your computer." She got very close to my face and asked, "Why did you have pictures of naked children on your computer?"

I tried to say I didn't, but the doctor interrupted me, "Now we've got no choice Johnny. Because of those three-hundred and forty-seven pictures, you are now being officially registered as a sex offender. You'll be assigned three of the pink jumpsuits before you leave."

"Pink jumpsuits?" I asked, not knowing what that really meant.

"It means you are a sex pervert and anyone looking at you will know it." Shelly said with a smirk, "I didn't know you liked looking at naked pictures of kids. Believe me when I tell you that I am going to enjoy making sure everyone knows that you really are a sex offender!"

"Those pictures weren't mine! I don't know anything about any kid pictures! What do you mean everyone knows about it?"

"I mean everyone Johnny. I mean your boss, your neighbors, your family, everyone." Shelly said with a sad smile.

"What the fuck Shelly! You can't do that! Those are not my pictures!" I was fighting against the leather restraints but got nowhere. I struggled to sit up and then fell back against the bed. "Shelly, what the fuck!"

"Johnny, you should not have left your computer running unsupervised. Besides, you signed those papers admitting to being a child pervert without even reading them. That was pretty stupid. I'm just giving you what you wanted. You wanted a chance to experience the real thing, so you're going to experience the real thing." Shelly knelt down and looked into my face again and asked, "So tell me Johnny, how do you like it now?"

"I know you're bluffing Shelly. You'd never do that to me."

"Are you sure, Johnny?" She stood back up and faced me again. "Well, it doesn't matter. It's not in my hands any more. It's in her hands." Then she got up and turned to Doctor Shreveport and said, "I told you that he wanted this." She walked over to the doctor and added, "Please, from now on, no matter what Johnny or I say, please do what we talked about before, okay?"

Once again I spoke up, "Sure Shelly, now I know you're bluffing. Let me up out of the bed. I give up. You won. I apologize. Lets go home and . . ."

At that point, Doctor Shreveport spoke up, "Johnny, it's not up to Shelly; it is up to me, and I'm not going to roll over and let you out yet. I want you to experience what being a sex offender is really like because if I don't, you'll always wonder what it was like. And that is not healthy for you or for Shelly. Come on Shelly, Johnny's going to need his rest for tomorrow morning's procedure." I watched Doctor Shreveport push a button and the door open. They both left the room without saying another word. Then the lights went out. With nothing else to do, I was soon dreaming again, and fighting my restraints.

They came for me early the next morning. Another sharp poke in my arm and new medication. My head spun and I was released from the bed restraints. I was forced to sit there as the bed linen was changed. Then the nurses expertly changed my diapers. Then I felt the cold air and wetness on my skin as another alcohol wiped my skin and another shot went into my arm. Then I was given some pills to swallow. As this was happening, I felt a new much thicker diaper being put on me. Then a new pair of rubber pants went on over my mostly useless rubber legs. The next set of pants turned into a jumpsuit and my arms went into the jumpsuit sleeves.

My vision was now very blurry. When I tried to talk my tongue felt too big. I slurred my speech like I was drunk. I felt the zipper being pulled up my back and then heard the click, and then felt the second click. Someone put slippers on my feet and told me to stand up. I did and tried not to fall down. I felt a belt being put around my waist. "Just a gate belt to make it easier to hold on to you, to keep you from falling," one of the orderlies said.

They had me get into a wheelchair. I watched the hallway pass by as they wheeled me down the corridor. I had trouble keeping my head up. My head kept bobbing. As they slowed, I felt myself fall forward and a hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back to the back of the chair. A shirt like thing went over my head like a t-shirt. It had straps that were tied around the handles of the wheelchair. "It's called it a Posey. The straps will keep you from falling forward again," the attendant said.

We entered a small office. On the wall was a large flat screen television set. A man wearing a black robe sat in the middle of the screen behind a desk, shifting papers. They wheeled me to a spot in front of a camera. The man on the screen introduced himself as Judge Freemount.

"Do you know where you are?"

I tried to speak but instead, slobbered. I coughed and sputtered and the world started spinning again. I heard the judge speak, but for some reason, I could not understand what he was saying. Within a few minutes, I was back in the hall and then taken back to my room. Several hands helped put me back into bed and the world spun some more. The next thing I knew I was dreaming of driving on a highway. The car had a mind of its own and I could not stop it from heading towards a brick wall! I screamed out and sat up in bed, sweating. What the fuck just happened? I was restrained at the waist, but that was all. The restraints were not tightly applied and I was able to wiggle a little. I realized I was still wearing a jumpsuit.

That was when the door opened and Shelly came in. "Johnny, here is your paperwork. I've already signed everything so don't worry about that. You're going home this afternoon." Shelly hugged me. "Congratulations, you're a sex offender and you get to be diapered and wearing jumpsuits and a harness and GPS unit for the rest of your life. You did it. You got what you wanted. But don't worry, I'll be there to help you."

"But I only wanted to do it for two weeks, when I was on vacation!" That can't be right. Shelly must be playing me.

"Well, it doesn't work that way." Shelly was less happy now. "Sorry honey, but until the judge says otherwise, you're going to be dressed in jumpsuits. Now lets get you dressed properly for the trip home." Shelly opened up a new pink jumpsuit and laid it over the railing of the bed. She then pulled open a diaper. "But first, lets get that diaper changed." She unlocked me from my bed, had me stand up and then took everything off me. Then she had me lay back down on the bed. Shelly slid the diaper under me and started to tape it in place. Then she slid up a pair of rubber pants.

"What do you mean until the judge signs off?" I suddenly got very worried.

"Our normal judge was not available so we got the one at the State Capital. Sorry Johnny but we didn't know that until you were already wheeled into the vestibule. Between that and the fact that you were heavily sedated, it made it seem as though you really did have dementia. That convinced the judge you were not a flight risk, but you were still a risk for exposing yourself. Unfortunately, the paperwork sent over to him, that was meant for our normal judge, was taken as fact by the other judge, and so he signed off on you for real."

"Why didn't you just tell him what was going on?" I asked as Shelly zipped my jumpsuit up my back.

Before Shelly could answer, Doctor Shreveport entered and said, "Because I signed the paperwork classifying you as a sex offender with dementia who undresses at inappropriate times. I could not just then say, 'Oh sorry judge, it was all a joke.' Judges don't like having their time wasted. I could have been found in contempt of court and fined, or worse yet fired. I'm a medical doctor, I would have been censured too. I could have lost my livelihood."

"So what does this mean for me?"

Shelly said, "It means, my dear Johnny, that you are now classified as a sex offender who has been granted home visits. That court order means that you'll be wearing a locking jumpsuit and harness and GPS unit at all times when you are not here. Also, because you are dressed this way, you'll be wearing and using diapers for the duration too." Shelly smiled, "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"If I said no, that I've changed my mind, would it make a difference?"

"Nope," Shelly laughed,"not in the slightest, sorry, sweetie."

Doctor Shreveport said, "Until you are finished with your mandatory court ordered treatment, not even I can get you released. I'm sorry Johnny, but that's the way things work here. It is called court oversight and it takes more than one person to make these things work."

Before I left the facility, a marshal installed a GPS unit on my ankle, Shelly signed for two additional jumpsuits and an extra harness. Then she handed over a check for the GPS unit. Shelly then took me back to my home. Why not her home I asked? Because I had to be at my own legal address. I was not allowed to leave it except for work, or to go to the doctor, or to church. Everything else that I needed would have to be delivered to the house.

The jumpsuit I wore said the word Sex Offender down the pants on the left side, and Dementia Patient on the right side. On my back were the words, "Sex Offender-Dementia Patient."

That was a month ago, two weeks longer than my vacation was supposed to be - luckily I still had a job pending a company investigation from Human Resources. But fortunately, as Shelly pointed out, I could not be fired for having a psychiatric problem. Even so, they were investing the reports of child pornography on my home computer, but until that investigation was finished, I still had a job. As it turned out, there was no child pornography on my computer, but people still believed the rumors. And although the GPS unit tether said I could go to work, since I had no toilet breaks, because I was not allowed to take off my jumpsuit or harness, I was given permission to work from home. The caveat was that I had to use a company computer, and Information Services kept an eye on every one of my keystrokes.

Over the next several weeks, Shelly stayed at my apartment every night, and twice a day she changed my diapers. But today, she was late getting home from the hospital. She texted me that she had been in a car accident and was now at a hospital about half way between the prison hospital and my house. After calling my probation officer, the one who monitored the GPS unit, I drove as fast as I could to the hospital she was in, but because she was so late, I had to urinate really bad. I was several hours behind schedule getting my diapers changed and my diapers were almost overflowing. The last thing I wanted to do was leak on the seats of my car. Worse yet, I now needed to have a bowel movement.

That was when I stopped at the gas station and tried to talk the girl behind the counter into unbuckling my jumpsuit. I tried to explain the problem about my girlfriend, and how it was too far from the hospital to make it without shitting my diapers, but she would hear none of it. The prison officials had been very good about adding signs to neighboring towns, and this was one of them. When she threatened to call the police, I ran out the door, sat down in my car, and lost control of my bowels. I drove to the hospital with shitty diapers. When I waddled into the Emergency Room and up to the desk, I could smell myself. I knew everyone else could smell me too. I heard people making comments about the smell. Older people, who knew what the pink jumpsuit and harness meant, talked in hushed tones and motioned to others in my direction. I heard one older man say, "Sex offender." It was then I remembered the jumpsuit I wore had that stenciled on the leg and on my back.

As I stood in front of the desk, two armed security guards showed up. They stood on each side of me. Finally, when it was my turn at the desk, I asked for Shelly. The nurse asked me about my business with her, then called back to talk to Shelly's nurse. "Okay," and then told me where to with the two guards who escorted me through the Emergency Room and bak to Shelly's room.

When I got there, Shelly was sitting up in her bed. She had a bandage on her head and another on her arm where the I.V. had been drawn, but otherwise she was fine. Shelly's car was totaled. Luckily, she was okay. I went around to the side of the bed and tried to hug her but the guards stepped into the room to make sure that would not happen. When Shelly saw the guards, she told them it was okay, and asked them to leave. Even so, one of the guards stayed within earshot, outside the room, just in case.

"Johnny, whew, you need to be changed," Shelly laughed, but added, "My car is totaled. Some lady decided it would be a good idea to drive through a red light. I t-boned her good. Her care is toast too."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but like I said, my car is totaled."

"You can get a new car."

"You don't understand. I won't have a car to drive over to your place. I can't stay over at night. You're supposed to be change you every four hours. I can't drive over to your place at lunch to change you either. I get two hours at lunch because I work ten to twelve hour days, but you're going to have to go back to the psych hospital until I can get some transportation."

"What about a rental? Or better still, why don't you just live with me until you get a replacement car?"

"I can't do that and be your nurse too. Johnny, I'm sorry, but either we get you a new nurse or you will have to head back to the inpatient unit at the psych hospital until I do. I'm sorry Johnny, but I can't see any other way right now."

That was how I got a new nurse. This nurse worked for the state and followed every rule. Unlike when Shelly was there, now I stayed dressed in my jumpsuits all the time. This nurse was not one to be fooled with. "Any foolishness and you'll be right back in that prison hospital! You got that?" I did.

Every day I was dressed in my jumpsuit and harness. Every night I was put into my bed restraints and left there for the night nurse. Every night that my GPS unit was also plugged into the wall to get charged. The next morning, after using the bathroom and changing out of soiled diapers and into fresh diapers, the nurse would put me into a clean jumpsuit. Then she would installed my harness. Later in the morning, after breakfast, my new nurse walked with me into my spare bedroom where I worked. It became clear that even my nurses needed a break, so they soon began strapping my harness to my chair while I worked, and that was how I spent the next three hours. Then I was released and walked like a dog to make sure I didn't develop any circulation problems. My diapers were changed, and I was strapped back into my chair where I ate my lunch. Afterwards, twice a week, the nurse drove me to the psychiatric hospital for my sex offender therapy session. Later, I went back home, and a second nurse came in to relieve the day nurse. Shelly only occasionally visited me during this time. She said it was because she could not risk letting the people working with me knowing that she was my girlfriend. That was when I thought I was going to lose her.

Fortunately for me, a few weeks later, I went back in front of the judge. Luckily Shelly's friendly judge was back on the bench and I got a new trial. That judge asked me a lot of personal questions, including about how I was enjoying my jumpsuit and diapers and harness, as well as the GPS unit? I told him the truth, that I had not expected to be wearing any of those things for so long. The judge just smiled and told me he'd have his ruling put into the system that afternoon. And then he told me not to worry. I felt better about things and the day nurse took me home and we waited. Shelly showed up a half hour later. She carried a large envelope and had a smile on her face. She told the afternoon nurse to take the rest of the day off with pay. That nurse did not have to be told twice.

"Your choice, Johnny, would you want to know what the Judge decided?"

"Yes, Shelly, what did he decide?"

"Here, read it for yourself." She handed me the envelope. It was already opened. I took the envelope and spilled its contents onto the kitchen table. I picked up what looked like the paperwork from the judge and read the first few lines. I got the gist of it. I was no longer considered a sex offender and was no longer required to wear any jumpsuit or harness or GPS ankle cuff. However, I was required to continue counseling with Doctor Shreveport. Doctor Shreveport could recommend that I have my record cleared, or that demand that I be put back into my jumpsuits and diapers. As far as the judge was concerned, it all depended on the doctor and on how our sessions went for the next six months.

After I finished reading, I looked up at Shelly. She had a smile on her face. "So Johnny, you want me to unbuckle you for the last time, or do you want to keep wearing that?"

I smiled and said, "I'd like you to unbuckle me and change my diapers. But I liked it when you visited me during the day. So if its all the same to you, I'd like you to keep me in my jumpsuits."

"Really?" She asked with a quizzical look.

"No, not really, please unbuckle me. I want you to unbuckle me for good." I said with a chuckle. Then I smiled and tried to kiss Shelly.

But Shelly pushed my hands down, "I don't think I want to let you out quite yet."

"Why not?" I asked disappointedly.

"Because you never proved if you could escape from our jumpsuit system or not. So go ahead and try escaping."

"And if I get out?"

"Then I'll let you do whatever you want with me."

"Including making you wear these jumpsuits and diapers?"

"Sure, but sign these papers first." Shelly pulled out forms from the envelope that were already filled in. "They just need your signatures here, here, and here. You'll also need to initial here and here. So, put your pen where your mouth is and fill these in and then I'll let you try to escape. If you escape, I'll wear the jumpsuit and diapers for as long as you wish, but when you fail . . ."

"What are these?"

"Commitment paperwork that I'll keep on file - undated. That way, if you ever you ever try to divorce me after we get married, I'll process them and have you re-committed."

"Married?"

"Yeah, I'm asking you to marry me," Shelly said with a smile. "So what will it be? Do I unlock you and we put this behind us, or do you sign the paperwork and I let you try to escape on your own? But remember, if you try and fail, and I have to unlock you from your jumpsuit, then when get married I get control of you for the rest of your life!" Shelly laughed her most evil laugh.

I grabbed the pen and signed and initialed the paperwork where I was told. Then I tried and failed to escape, just as I had secretly tried and failed to do so, so many times before.

We got married three months later and we lived happily ever after? Shelly kept the jumpsuits and harness handy, just in case!