Million Diaper Baby: Chapter 1

In 2025, an up-and-coming Middleweight boxer named Blake “The Bullet” Rodgers stepped into the ring for his chance at a title belt. The event that occurred three rounds into his boxing match would forever change the sport as The Bullet delivered a nasty blow to his opponent’s lower gut, triggering a messy accident in the heart of Madison Square Garden. With his rival unable to continue, the fight concluded in an unprecedented TKO victory for The Bullet, and his legendary punch from that day became known as The Hollow Point. 

Many of Blake’s fellow boxers would soon strive to emulate his signature move to achieve quick TKOs, and the sport of boxing became inundated with muddy undies before the year was out. The prospect of banning hits to the lower midsection was a bridge too far for the vast majority of athletes and spectators, leaving the International Boxing Federation to make the only plausible decision they could. Henceforth, diapers became a uniform requirement for boxers at all levels… 

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DING! DING! 

Thumping his gloves together fiercely, it was safe to say Matthew Armstrong was having an off day. Sweat dripped from the ends of his spiky hair as he danced his way toward the center of the ring for the eighth round of his sparring match. His opponent was someone he had bested on numerous occasions, emphasizing to anyone watching that he was not performing at 100 percent mentally. Adding to his frustration, the feisty Welterweight knew the reason for his poor performance was entirely petty. This pushed him to become more reckless as he proceeded to take his anger out on his hapless competitor with a series of wild punches. 

“It’s here!” 

Suddenly, a female voice echoed from across the gym, distracting Matthew at the worst possible moment. His opponent’s glove made contact with the side of his jaw, resulting in an unintentional sucker punch that put the frazzled fighter on his obnoxiously crinkly ass. It wasn’t even a particularly hard hit, making the fact that it unbalanced him even more aggravating. Pushing himself off the canvas floor, he didn’t even wait for the bell to ring as he exited the ring in a huff. 

“G-Good match,” called out Matthew’s opponent, his voice brimming with clumsy anxiety. 

Matthew paid no mind to his sparring partner as he beelined to the other side of the boxing gym without a word of comradery. Instead, his focus was locked on a group of fellow boxers who were standing in a semi-circle around a large cardboard box. Dawning a sour expression, he folded his arms over his chest defensively and joined the crowd of onlookers. 

“Eeee! I’m so excited! It feels like Christmas!” said the girl tearing into the well-sealed box with a pair of safety scissors. Dreaming of this moment since she was old enough to walk, Lightweight brawler, Amy Stone, tore open the parcel and proudly unveiled her big sponsor to her fellow competitors, “Heh! I think I’m gonna be covered on boxing diapers for the foreseeable future.” Her small gathering clapped and chuckled lightheartedly as she held up a package of plain white diapers with a giant CrissBaby Diaper Company logo boldly located on the rear of the padding. Years of intensive training and dedication had finally been worth it, and now, she was ready to leave her mark on the sport. She hugged the diaper pack to her chest, fighting back tears of joy. 

Scoff! 

Amy’s smile briefly faltered as Matthew’s breathy dejection snagged her ear. Her gaze narrowed playfully as she turned to see him sulking as he sauntered away from the group. 

“Stupid CrissBaby,” muttered Matthew, failing to mask his seething jealousy. There was little doubt pertaining to who the best boxer in the gym unequivocally was. At only 26, his professional record stood at an awe-inspiring 19-0-2, and he’d bested damn near every local guy in his weight class multiple times over. And yet, despite his obvious prowess, he had yet to accrue any sponsorships to help take him to the next level, leaving him to scrounge for any cheap fight he could get his gloves on. He didn’t want to be bitter, especially toward Amy of all people, but he couldn’t deny that he was feeling raw about the whole situation. 

POW! 

Receiving a light punch to the shoulder from behind, Matthew narrowly avoided a trip to the ground as he stumbled forward. “Who the fu-” he shouted, ready to lay the smack down on whoever had the gall to hit him when his back was turned. His rage faltered as he turned around to see Amy smirking at him. He exhaled forcefully through his nose like a bull attempting to mind its manners in a china shop, “Oh…it’s just you.” 

“Hehe! You looked so mad, bro. I must’ve really pissed you off for you to go straight to your corkscrew,” teased Amy, who was able to tell what punch Matthew was going throw based on his stance alone. After two decades of fighting alongside each other, she could read Matthew like a book and knew precisely how to poke at his most hair-triggered buttons. Unfortunately, while Matthew had always been highly competitive, envy was one of his rarer emotions, leading to a gross miscalculation as she carried on with her heedless taunts, “Oh, c’mon, Matti. Lighten up, will ya! Just because we have to wear diapers doesn’t mean you gotta act like a party pooper.” She reached forward to place a hand on Matthew’s shoulder, only for him to brush her away. 

A small line of pink formed along the bridge of Matthew’s nose. “I told you never to call me that here,” he said in a hushed volume, referring to Amy’s incessant need to feminize his name at all times. He allowed her to get away with it when they were alone but that was only because of the massive crush he had on her. His eyes shifted to the handful of onlookers who had previously been present for Amy’s unboxing, praying that none of them overheard his embarrassing nickname, “And lay off the diaper jokes, will ya? Not all of us are so privileged to have CrissBaby pay for ours.” 

Matthew’s pointed comment struck a nerve within Amy, who wasn’t looking to have her success ridiculed over nothing more than a harmless goof in her eyes. “Oh, is that what this is about? I thought you were slinking away cuz you just got put on your ass by a rookie. Not sure that’s the kind of performance CrissBaby would be interested in,” she shot back vengefully, displaying her own brand of brash egoism. Several more fighters bunched in around the bickering besties, amused by the verbal onslaught that was rapidly ramping up. 

“19 wins and zero losses, bitch. Records speak for themselves. Tell me, what was yours again? 13-3? 4? You’ll have to forgive me for forgetting since I only have to keep track of one number,” said Matthew, earning a chorus of “oohs” from the male spectators. 

“Okay, asshole, for the record, it’s 14 and 2,” clapped back Amy, who wasn’t about to let her win-loss count be downplayed, “And don’t act like your record isn’t inflated with amateurs and journeymen. I take my losses on the chin cuz those were hard fucking fights. I bet your pansy ass is gonna ball like a baby the day you get laid out.” 

With no regard for his short-tempered retort from moments prior, Matthew was high on the belief that he had Amy right where he wanted her if she was already cussing. He rolled his eyes, knowing of how much that imprudent gesture ground her gears. “Too bad you’re never gonna find out. Sorry, Ames, but I don’t plan on losing any time soon,” he said, utilizing the three inches of height he had over Amy to look down on her. 

“Wanna put those words to the test?” asked Amy, her tone deadly serious as she stepped forward and got up in Matthew’s face. In the back of her mind, she knew this was possibly one of the dumbest things she could do. Even if she were to completely erase the annoying gender divide, she easily weighed 20 pounds less than Matthew, giving him a significant upper hand from a sheer power standpoint. That being said, Matthew had talked far too much shit to not put his money where his mouth is. If anyone was going to knock him down a peg, it was going to be her. 

Caught off guard by Amy’s impromptu challenge, Matthew found himself atop a very awkward hot seat. He had sparred with Amy countless times when they were growing up but he hadn’t faced off against his childhood friend since middle school. Cornered by his arrogance, he knew this was a lose-lose situation. “Sorry, I don’t fight girls,” he replied, his cheering section quickly turning on him as the “oohs” swapped to “awws” within seconds of his answer, “Shut the fuck up! I don’t see you pussies going toe-to-toe with any of the girls here.” 

“Yeah, that’s because they’re smart enough not to run their mouths around me. Maybe take a page from their book if you’re gonna chicken out,” heckled Amy, twisting the knife for presumably the final time given Matthew’s cowardly rebuttal. 

However, Amy never could’ve predicted the kind of fire her needling statement would spark behind Matthew’s eyes. Balling his fists, his knuckles crackled like a fuse being ignited. He still had no intention of fighting her but he wasn’t about to announce that to the whole gym after such blatant indignation. Letting his male fragility take the wheel, he knew exactly what to say to get Amy to balk. “Fine but if I win, you have to go on a date with me,” he said, a wicked grin forming on his mug, “And you have to dress up nice, too. No sweatpants allowed.” The “oohs” returned in his favor. 

Amy’s smug visage shattered nigh instantaneously as Matthew’s shocking stipulation sank in. She wished she could say this was a first but Matthew had been coming onto her since the two of them were old enough to tell the difference between guys and girls. Despite being keenly aware of Matthew’s gushy feelings, she never reciprocated. She’d been around enough macho airheads to know that type of guy wasn’t her type. And yet, Matthew still harbored a deep affection for her, forcing her to constantly find new ways to let him down easily for the sanctity of their friendship. This was clearly a face-saving move to get her to back down, and she had to admit it was surprisingly effective. Had it been any other muscle-clad douchebag pulling a stunt like this, she would’ve decked him right then and there, but this was Matthew she was dealing with. If he wanted to up the ante to this extent, she was determined to make him regret it, “Fine, but if I win, you have to do whatever I say for an entire week. No ifs, ands, or buts. No backing out.” She extended her hand toward Matthew whilst maintaining a withering glare and refusing to so much as blink. “So, Matti, do we have a deal?” 

Glancing at the now gym-wide audience encircling Amy and him, Matt knew any chance of this argument ending civilly was long gone. Their brawl seemed almost inevitable at this point. His fingers curled around Amy’s hand viciously, showcasing his superior grip strength. “You’re on,” he said starkly, oblivious to the blushy fate that lay ahead of him. 

Matching the intensity of her opponent’s grip, Amy squared up with Matthew. Permitting her devious mind to wander as she looked him up and down, she could already feel the horns growing out of her head. She would certainly make him pay in more ways than one if she wound up stuck on a crappy date with him. But should she happen to pull off an upset, he was going to be in for a world of humiliation unlike anything he’s ever experienced. 

TO BE CONTINUED…