Morten, a lanky 19-year-old with tousled brown hair and a shy smile, sat sketching in his notebook. Lisa, a confident 17-year-old with long blonde waves and piercing green eyes, approached with a playful grin, her denim skirt swishing against her legs. "Hey, you're the guy from art class who's always doodling those epic dragons. Mind if I see? I'm Lisa, by the way, and I love anything creative." "Uh, sure, I'm Morten. They're just silly sketches, nothing special. What brings you over here?" "Silly? They're awesome! We should hang out sometime, maybe grab coffee and you can teach me your secrets. I've been dying for some inspiration lately."

Morten and Lisa laughed over spilled sugar packets, their chairs pulled close as weeks of hangouts turned into easy flirtation. "You've got this adorable awkward charm, Morten. We should take it up a notch—sleep over at my place this weekend? My parents are out of town, it'll be fun, movies all night, no pressure." "Really? I'd like that. Sounds perfect, Lisa. I'll bring snacks." "Great! Pack a bag, cutie. This is gonna be the best."

Morten woke mortified in the morning, the damp spot on the sheets undeniable under the harsh daylight streaming through half-open blinds. Lisa stared, then smirked, her eyes lighting up with mischief. "Oh my god, Morten, did you seriously wet the bed? At 19? That's hilarious—and kinda cute in a baby way. Don't worry, I've got just the fix. I babysit my little cousin and have his diapers stashed away. Strip down, you're wearing one tonight, no arguments." "Lisa, please, it was a one-time thing. I'm so embarrassed..." "One-time? We'll see. Now hush and let me tape this on you. Look how snug it fits your pathetic little accidents. Feels right, doesn't it, baby boy?"

Lisa inspected Morten after his shower, forcing a fresh diaper on him despite his protests, the crinkly plastic gleaming white against his skin. "This isn't just for nights anymore, Morten. After that mess, you're in diapers full-time under your clothes. I'll know if you take it off—I'll check randomly. And hey, it suits you, my little bedwetter boyfriend." "But Lisa, what if someone sees? This is humiliating..." "Humiliating? That's the point, dummy. Now make me a sandwich, diaper boy. And smile while you do it—I love watching you waddle."

Lisa tugged Morten into a corner table, her hand slyly patting the bulky diaper under his jeans, a spare one peeking from her purse. She giggled loudly, drawing glances. "Oops, hear that crinkle, everyone? My boyfriend's got a diaper on because he can't stop peeing his pants like a toddler. Morten, tell them how it feels to be my padded pet—oh wait, you're too shy. Good boy, now fetch me a large soda, and don't you dare leak on the way." "Lisa, people are staring... please stop." "Staring? Let them. You're my entertainment now. Extra diaper in my bag just in case you flood it here in the mall, loser."

Sarah, Lisa's bubbly best friend with short red hair and a devious smirk, joined them, her eyes widening at the reveal. Lisa spilled everything, pulling back Morten's waistband to show the diaper. "No way, Lisa! Your boyfriend's a diaper-dependent baby? This is gold. Morten, go refill our drinks and clean up these crumbs—you're the maid now. And if you wet, we'll change you right here on the grass." "Exactly, Sarah! He's not my boyfriend anymore, more like our fun little project. Morten, hurry up with the lemonade, diaper butt, or we'll tease you extra loud next time." "Yes... okay, girls." "That's right, project boy. Cook dinner tonight too—pasta for us queens while you waddle in your shame."

Morten slaved over steaming pots, apron tied over his diaper, while Lisa and Sarah lounged, phones out snapping pics. "Smells good, servant! But check—did you wet again? Yeah, you did. Sarah, hold him while I change our project. This is way better than dating; he's our hilarious, house-cleaning baby now." "Totally! Morten, after dinner, scrub the floors on your hands and knees. We own you, padded pet."