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Shifting attention away from Storwan Industries for a brief moment, here is the first chapter of my ABDL story, Clowning Around. This story is my chance to explore ABDL as a tool of healing and self-exploration, where we will explore the journey of the guy on the left side of the image above becoming the big baby clown on the right. 😱 Our story starts off with an angry, young man at a personal low point within his life, and he is about to face a choice that may completely change him forever, but possibly for the better. 😉
Clowning Around Chp 1
The two men stared at each from opposite ends of the desk between them. One was an African American, aged academic with a balding head, save for a few wiry grey hairs, and a soured expression that seemed to permeate the very air of the room.
In contrast, the young man across from him gave off almost the exact opposite demeanor. His feet were cocked up upon the other side of the desk, held aloft by his legs adorned in faded grey jeans with rips along the knees. He also sported a sweat-stained, white wife-beater under a black jacket that matched his dark hair, emblazoned with the words ‘Varsity Football’ on the back. Despite this, the most apparent trait about the young man was that he seemed bored, impatient even, as though every second longer he was in the room it seemed to make the whole ordeal even more tedious.
The older man broke the silence with, “Mr. Mason, shall we get started?”
“By all means Dean Mayweather. You are the one who pulled me out of class after all.”
“Well, that’s just the thing, Mason. It turns out that was quite a rarity indeed, given the fact that you have missed so many lectures this semester that you no longer qualify for passing any of your classes as it stands.”
“I don’t see how that’s my problem. I was awarded an athletic scholarship to Coastline College, and I have been playing the best damn football of my life, which has been bringing in all types of money to this joke of a school. So either you deal with this, or you’re losing yourself one hell of a cash cow.”
The older man rubbed his brow and said in an exasperated tone, “God knows I’ve tried. Don’t you think for one minute it escapes me what the reputation of this school is, Mr. Mason? Coastline College where you can ‘coast by’ college. It isn’t something I’m proud of...”
“Yeah, but it’s definitely something you’re willing to exploit as long as you get a nice big cut,” Mason spat bitterly.
The older man removed his hands from his temples and retorted, “You know that and I know that, but there has always been a give and a take in these scenarios. Athletes like yourself get to showcase your abilities to major leagues and colleges, in turn, do their part to at least pretend to provide you with a somewhat higher education.”
“Right,” the younger man sneered, “Classic give and take.”
“However, Mr. Mason, the system completely breaks down when one party decides to take more than they are willing to give. With your performance in your classes thus far, there is no way I can keep this little farce going. There are institutions that exist now that are deliberately monitoring academia for cases like yours and I am not going to jeopardize my position so that you can continue screwing around.”
“You’re so full of crap. Half the other guys on the team are screwing around way worse than I am.”
“But at least they’re going to class and taking any help afforded to them. Every time I have had this conversation with students in your situation they always realized it was time to buckle down. Even the ones with drug issues would at least take the paid stint in rehab we would offer. But you...”
“I’m not on any hard shit. You know that. You’ve had me pee in enough cups to know that the only thing I do is smoke cigarettes.”
“You are right. I do know that. Heck, it would have made kicking you out a lot easier because at least we could have spun it as you being caught in the grips of addiction, but the worst part is that you...”
“I what?” Mason replied testily, not liking the shift in the Dean’s tone one bit.
The Dean rose from his chair and looked out the window with an almost forlorn expression as he continued, “I had such high hopes when you were admitted to this school. You played like a demon on the football field and you had come from virtually nothing. Your uncle was a train wreck, no offense...”
“None taken. Train wreck is too good a name for that asshole.”
The Dean cleared his throat disapprovingly at Mason’s cursing before adding, “I had genuinely hoped we would have been a good fit for you. You’d play ball for us and maybe you would know what it was to have an easy life for the first time.”
“I never asked for your damn sympathy,” Mason spat, but he was no longer looking at the Dean’s eyes, as though he couldn’t bear the pity emanating from them.
“Where do you go?” The Dean asked very suddenly.
“What?” Mason replied, confused by the directness of the question.
“You don’t go out drinking after the games like the rest of team. I’ve looked into that. In fact when you’re not on the field, nobody usually knows where the hell you are.”
“That’s none of your business. I’m a goddamn adult, I can go anywhere I want to whenever I want to.”
“A goddamn adult would know that you CAN’T just do whatever the hell you feel like doing, especially when you’ve got responsibilities!” The Dean shouted back incredulously.
The older man panted lightly after his outburst while the younger one’s eyes maintained their own steely gaze, betraying nothing of the inner workings of the mind behind them.
Dean Mayweather sighed and sat back down, folding his hands under chin as he stated, “You have two options.”
“What? Get my shit together or you’ll drop me from the team? Fat chance.”
“Actually, you’re off the team regardless,” The Dean began.
“What the hell?! You can’t do that you bastard!”
“I legally have to. There is no way around it,” The Dean continued tersely, “Your first option is to take a mental health leave of absence from the school.”
“Are you saying I’m nuts?!” Mason spat.
“Hardly. In fact, we usually avoid this option due to the very stigma you just expressed. Don’t forget we want our students to be drafted to the major leagues just as much as they do. Successful alumni tend to be generous to their alma maters, but given the fact that you refuse to cooperate with this school at even a fundamental level, maybe some time away from all this is exactly what you need.”
The Dean paused before continuing, “Look, given how you were raised, it’s not unusual to have some latent issues you might need to address. Maybe some professional help could really...”
Mason cut the Dean of as he coldly stated, “I don’t have any issues. Latent or otherwise. I’m just a few classes away from graduating from this hellhole and getting drafted by a big-league team. What’s the other option?”
The Dean sighed and looked at Mason wearily, “The next option is... unorthodox, to say the least. Frankly I think the first may be a much better fit for...”
“What the hell is it?” Mason barked, “I don’t give a shit what it is as longer as it gets me back to playing football.”
The Dean no longer met Mason’s gaze but rose from the desk and moved towards the door. He motioned for Mason to follow as he said, “Talk is cheap. Let me show you.”
~End of Chp 1~
Yeah, this chapter was lacking in the ABDL content, but its purpose is to show Mason's starting point in terms of both his situation and his headspace as a character. Fear not fellow diaper-butts, for there will be plenty of ABDL goodness in the next chapter! 💖🍼
Also, for those of you who would like a heads up about my posting schedule, feel free to follow me on Twitter, https://twitter.com/SkunkTales1, as I had announced earlier this week that I would be posting this chapter today.
Art by the wonderful
moorph
Clowning Around Chp 1
The two men stared at each from opposite ends of the desk between them. One was an African American, aged academic with a balding head, save for a few wiry grey hairs, and a soured expression that seemed to permeate the very air of the room.
In contrast, the young man across from him gave off almost the exact opposite demeanor. His feet were cocked up upon the other side of the desk, held aloft by his legs adorned in faded grey jeans with rips along the knees. He also sported a sweat-stained, white wife-beater under a black jacket that matched his dark hair, emblazoned with the words ‘Varsity Football’ on the back. Despite this, the most apparent trait about the young man was that he seemed bored, impatient even, as though every second longer he was in the room it seemed to make the whole ordeal even more tedious.
The older man broke the silence with, “Mr. Mason, shall we get started?”
“By all means Dean Mayweather. You are the one who pulled me out of class after all.”
“Well, that’s just the thing, Mason. It turns out that was quite a rarity indeed, given the fact that you have missed so many lectures this semester that you no longer qualify for passing any of your classes as it stands.”
“I don’t see how that’s my problem. I was awarded an athletic scholarship to Coastline College, and I have been playing the best damn football of my life, which has been bringing in all types of money to this joke of a school. So either you deal with this, or you’re losing yourself one hell of a cash cow.”
The older man rubbed his brow and said in an exasperated tone, “God knows I’ve tried. Don’t you think for one minute it escapes me what the reputation of this school is, Mr. Mason? Coastline College where you can ‘coast by’ college. It isn’t something I’m proud of...”
“Yeah, but it’s definitely something you’re willing to exploit as long as you get a nice big cut,” Mason spat bitterly.
The older man removed his hands from his temples and retorted, “You know that and I know that, but there has always been a give and a take in these scenarios. Athletes like yourself get to showcase your abilities to major leagues and colleges, in turn, do their part to at least pretend to provide you with a somewhat higher education.”
“Right,” the younger man sneered, “Classic give and take.”
“However, Mr. Mason, the system completely breaks down when one party decides to take more than they are willing to give. With your performance in your classes thus far, there is no way I can keep this little farce going. There are institutions that exist now that are deliberately monitoring academia for cases like yours and I am not going to jeopardize my position so that you can continue screwing around.”
“You’re so full of crap. Half the other guys on the team are screwing around way worse than I am.”
“But at least they’re going to class and taking any help afforded to them. Every time I have had this conversation with students in your situation they always realized it was time to buckle down. Even the ones with drug issues would at least take the paid stint in rehab we would offer. But you...”
“I’m not on any hard shit. You know that. You’ve had me pee in enough cups to know that the only thing I do is smoke cigarettes.”
“You are right. I do know that. Heck, it would have made kicking you out a lot easier because at least we could have spun it as you being caught in the grips of addiction, but the worst part is that you...”
“I what?” Mason replied testily, not liking the shift in the Dean’s tone one bit.
The Dean rose from his chair and looked out the window with an almost forlorn expression as he continued, “I had such high hopes when you were admitted to this school. You played like a demon on the football field and you had come from virtually nothing. Your uncle was a train wreck, no offense...”
“None taken. Train wreck is too good a name for that asshole.”
The Dean cleared his throat disapprovingly at Mason’s cursing before adding, “I had genuinely hoped we would have been a good fit for you. You’d play ball for us and maybe you would know what it was to have an easy life for the first time.”
“I never asked for your damn sympathy,” Mason spat, but he was no longer looking at the Dean’s eyes, as though he couldn’t bear the pity emanating from them.
“Where do you go?” The Dean asked very suddenly.
“What?” Mason replied, confused by the directness of the question.
“You don’t go out drinking after the games like the rest of team. I’ve looked into that. In fact when you’re not on the field, nobody usually knows where the hell you are.”
“That’s none of your business. I’m a goddamn adult, I can go anywhere I want to whenever I want to.”
“A goddamn adult would know that you CAN’T just do whatever the hell you feel like doing, especially when you’ve got responsibilities!” The Dean shouted back incredulously.
The older man panted lightly after his outburst while the younger one’s eyes maintained their own steely gaze, betraying nothing of the inner workings of the mind behind them.
Dean Mayweather sighed and sat back down, folding his hands under chin as he stated, “You have two options.”
“What? Get my shit together or you’ll drop me from the team? Fat chance.”
“Actually, you’re off the team regardless,” The Dean began.
“What the hell?! You can’t do that you bastard!”
“I legally have to. There is no way around it,” The Dean continued tersely, “Your first option is to take a mental health leave of absence from the school.”
“Are you saying I’m nuts?!” Mason spat.
“Hardly. In fact, we usually avoid this option due to the very stigma you just expressed. Don’t forget we want our students to be drafted to the major leagues just as much as they do. Successful alumni tend to be generous to their alma maters, but given the fact that you refuse to cooperate with this school at even a fundamental level, maybe some time away from all this is exactly what you need.”
The Dean paused before continuing, “Look, given how you were raised, it’s not unusual to have some latent issues you might need to address. Maybe some professional help could really...”
Mason cut the Dean of as he coldly stated, “I don’t have any issues. Latent or otherwise. I’m just a few classes away from graduating from this hellhole and getting drafted by a big-league team. What’s the other option?”
The Dean sighed and looked at Mason wearily, “The next option is... unorthodox, to say the least. Frankly I think the first may be a much better fit for...”
“What the hell is it?” Mason barked, “I don’t give a shit what it is as longer as it gets me back to playing football.”
The Dean no longer met Mason’s gaze but rose from the desk and moved towards the door. He motioned for Mason to follow as he said, “Talk is cheap. Let me show you.”
~End of Chp 1~
Yeah, this chapter was lacking in the ABDL content, but its purpose is to show Mason's starting point in terms of both his situation and his headspace as a character. Fear not fellow diaper-butts, for there will be plenty of ABDL goodness in the next chapter! 💖🍼
Also, for those of you who would like a heads up about my posting schedule, feel free to follow me on Twitter, https://twitter.com/SkunkTales1, as I had announced earlier this week that I would be posting this chapter today.
Art by the wonderful
moorph
Category Artwork (Digital) / Baby fur
Species Human
Size 845 x 946px
File Size 110 kB
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