Monday, April 30, 2012

The thicker the better:)

I love these diapers:) but everyone loves hello kitty:) I am 3 by the way!! That is my baby age:)
Hello Kitty says hi to you all:)



THIS STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION
My wife Linda has always been my mistress. It's no secret that I married her because I loved how she strict she was, but I had no idea how strict she could
be
until recently. It all started one morning about six months ago. I was awoken from a deep sleep by my sexy wife's beatiful voice.
"Wake, up little man." she intoned harshly.
I opened my eyes obediently to see her standing over me. Just as quickly I felt that she'd tied me to the bed. Across the room, our television set seemed
to be cued to play some kind of video. Silently, Linda pressed the play button on the vcr and surveillance footage from my office job began to play. It was
me in the lobby of the building, openly chatting with the female desk clerk. I watched myself talking with the young woman on the security footage for about
a minute, before allowing her to kiss me on the cheek and, just before I walked away, squeeze the front of my pants, with no visible sign of disagreement
from myself. My wife stopped the video.
"How long have you been cheating on me? Answer truthfully."
I tried to form a reply as quickly as I could. "I wasn't cheating, I was just-"
"You were just what, spending time with another woman? Enjoying her touch? Did you think I wouldn't check up on the comings and goings of my own husband?
As far as I'm concerned, this is a violation of our marriage vows."
"But I-" I tried to protest, but Linda cut me short again.
"But nothing. You have failed my trust, and things can't be the way they were before between us, not now that I've learned how irresponsible you really are.
Now, my husband, you have a choice to make. I have two contracts here. One is a simple divorce contract. It will require our seperation and return to you
all the shared property of ours which is rightfully yours. The other is a continuance of marriage contract. It will allow you to remain my husband, but
only under very specific terms, which are outlined in the contract, and which will be explained to you only once you have signed it and yourself over to me.
Both are legally binding. You are going to sign one today, or I will drag you and this video through court and take everything you own. Which contract will
you sign, divorce or marriage? Choose now."
"M-marriage." I stuttered fearfully as I thought of what the contents of the contract might be. With that, she placed a pen in my hand and moved a paper
close enough to it for me to sign. I was afraid of what she was going to do to me, but I couldn't stand the thought of never seeing my beloved mistress
again. I signed the document. My wife leaned in and planted her painted lips on mine, her tongue probing and penetrating my mouth as her right hand
searched my body, fondling first my torso, then my penis. She began to pump my member with my hand, then slowly began to kiss her way down my neck, then my
chest, then my belly, then, just as her open mouth was hovering over my rock hard prick, she withdrew.
"Good boy." She proclaimed, and smiled at me. "Now mommy can begin your punishment." She reached under the bed and pulled out what appeared to be several
white sheets. "These, my pet, are diapers. Your diapers, to be exact. Of course they don't actually belong to you, nothing in this house belongs to you
now, not even your own body, but these diapers are now your permanent wardrobe, so you should think of them as your diapers." Linda explained this as she
slid six of the diapers under my bottom, then continued as she poured lotion, baby oil, and talcum powder all over my nether region. She then pulled the
thick cloth diapers into place and pinned them tightly with bright silver safety pins, continuing to speak as she did so.
"It's obvious to me that you have no self control. You just let your dick guide you around with no thoughts of my feelings whatsoever, and this is
completely unnacceptable. You have not acted as a man, but as a child, and I intend to control you like one. Obviously you don't need a wife, you need a
mommy, and that is what you have made me today with your signing of our marriage contract. You have renewed our marriage vows with additional vows of
financial slavery and diaper chastity, and I intend to make you keep them. From now on, everything you make will go directly into my personal bank account.
There will be no chance for you to use any money to be unfaithful to me in any way. Furthermore, as I have explained, since you have demonstrated that you
can only act as as child, I see that I have no choice but to control as a loving mother would her unruly son. This means I am reintroducing you to diapers.
You are my baby now. You will always be my baby, and you will always wear diapers for me."
As she explained this, she produced a pair of white plastic pants with silver chains around the waist and leg holes. She freed my legs, pulled the plastic
pants up over my diapers, and locked them shut.
"There, you're trapped in your diapers. I've made sure that they're very thick, and your plastic pants have an extra thick shield in the front, so there's
no way you can you stroke yourself. As a matter of fact, you're never going to touch yourself ever again. Only I, your mommy, now have that privilege. I
intend to be a very attentive mommy, so don't worry about being hurt by diaper rash. If anything, I want to show you how much I love you by keeping you nice
and clean and by preventing you from injuring yourself through self-abuse. From now on, you won't have the opportunity to run around behind my back, because
you're going to need mommy to change your diaper regularly. Of course, I don't want you inconveniencing people to come across town from your office to be
changed in the middle of the day, which is why I've had you fired from your old job and installed in my office, as my new secretary. Here is what will
happen. I am going to feed you a breakfast laced with powerful diuretics and laxatives. Then, I am going to take you to work with me. You will be placed
in the office of the business I oversee with several of my employees. As you work, you will also be digesting your breakfast. When your breakfast is
digested, you will need to relieve your bladder and bowels. You will not want to relieve your bladder and bowels there in public, but you will have no
choice in the matter. The bathroom door at my office is locked, and you will be the only one without a key. That bathroom is off limits to you, as are all
bathrooms, unless I have taken you into one to bathe you. You will tense your bowels, cross your legs, do everything you can to keep from using your diaper
like a baby, but it will be impossible. You will use your diaper. You will use it profusely, and you will use it in public. Then you will want to be
changed, and I will change you, happily. But you may not walk across the room and whisper to me that you need a diaper change. Instead, you must shout, so
that the whole office can hear you. In a loud clear voice you must proclaim "Mommy, I need a diaper change!" and then I will change you. Is this
understood, little boy?
I nodded, and began to agree. "Yes Lin-"
She interrupted me. "Say 'Yes Mommy."
"Yes Mommy."
"Good baby." With that, she pinched my nose shut, and began shoveling baby food into my mouth.
Two hours later, everything mommy said had come to pass. There I sat at my new desk, the bulk of my huge diaper obvious through my khakis. Behind me, mommy
was working in her office with the door open. To the left and right of me in offices with open doors were more of my new superiors, beautiful young women in
tight fitting business suits, and in front of me a pool of desks attended by similarly attired young women. My desk had just been moved in that day, and
everyone was looking at the man in the bulky pants in the center of the room. I had already been hearing titters all morning of "little diaper baby" and
"looks like someone's naughty". I had no actual work to do and instead was being forced to write with a crayon, in double sized letters on unlined paper, an
essay titled "Why I Love My Mommy". Many of the young women had already looked over and seen me writing, and I could tell they were stifling laughs. But
that wasn't what concerned me now. What I was worried about at that moment was the pressure in my urethra and lower intestine. I had to piss and shit, and
I couldn't last much longer. I began rocking back and forth in my chair in total frustration, and suddenly it happened. I released. Pee and poo filled my
diaper. Many of the women at the desks nearest me inhaled sharply and frowned at the smell of my waste. The heat of it was unbearable. My erection
strained for attention in it's shitty, pissy prison. I needed mommy to clean me, I needed her touch.
Almost involuntarily, at the top of my lungs, so everyone in the office could hear me, I yelled "MOMMY, I NEED A DIAPER CHANGE!" Mommy walked cooly around
to the front of my desk, joined by a young woman on either side of her. "My my baby boy, made quite a mess in your diapers haven't you? Well, not to worry,
mommy's here to clean you right up. With that, two more young women rolled what plainly was a changing table with a stack of thick diapers and containers of
baby powder, baby oil, and a bottle of formula on it. "This is your changing table, baby. Now lie down." said mommy. I did as I was told, and submissively
lay down for my first diaper change. Mommy and her helpers were very efficient in cleaning and rediapering me, their quick hands felt incredible against my
skin as they wiped me clean and rubbed lotions on me, driving me almost to the peak of ecstacy but never allowing me to orgasm. Just as quickly they
rediapered me, making my prison even thicker this time, and simultaneously the large bottle of formula was shoved into my mouth, and I was obliged to drink
until it was empty.
"Throw his clothes away, he doesn't deserve them anyway and I want to show off my baby boy to all you girls." Commanded Linda. With that, all my clothing
save my diaper was taken away from me and thrown down a nearby garbage chute. Mommy bade me stand, and she began to kiss me deeply while she squeezed my
diaper. Even though I couldn't feel her hand, I shuddered in arousal. Then, she tied a light blue baby bonnet around my head and popped a large pacifier in
my mouth, which was secured around my neck by a long baby blue ribbon. "Now, go finish your essay for mommy." she commanded. I returned to my desk and as I
began to write I could feel the formula that I'd been fed working in conjuction with the chemicals that were already in my body. As I wrote the words "I
love my mommy" I could feel myself urinating involuntarily into my diaper. Without even thinking about it, I immediately called out again "Mommy, I need a
diaper change!" causing my pacifier to fall out of my mouth. The girls in the office laughed at this. Mommy called back to me from her office. "Already,
sweetheart? Did you pee pee or poo poo?" Part of me was still completely humiliated and resented being forced to this, but I couldn't resist announcing to
my wife "I pee peed in my diaper, mommy!" This made some of the women laugh a bit. "Not just yet, sweety. You just call for mommy again when you poo poo,
okay?" I wanted out of my wet diaper, but I knew I'd have to wait. "Yes mommy." I replied.
At the end of the day, just before five, I had thoroughly soiled myself, and was back on the changing table looking up at mommy as she put me into clean
diapers. She was being very kind and loving to me now, cooing softly to me in baby talk and planting kisses on me as she fastened my diapers. "I want you
to know, baby, that I'm very pleased how this is working out, and I think you've been a very good baby for me today. I'm very proud of you for writing such
a good essay about how much you love me, and I feel that you deserve this diaper change. In fact, mommy's so happy with what baby wrote for her, that
tomorrow I'm going to let you write an essay on how you're going to be a good baby. Doesn't that sound fun?" I nodded humbly and mommy smiled and tickled
my chin, causing me to giggle and drool a bit.
"Ok, now that I've got your diaper changed, it's time for mommy to take you home." Linda announced. With this, she wheeled from her office a large stroller.
"Sit down in your stroller, baby. We're going home. Don't bother arguing with me or asking for any additional clothes, remember you signed a contract." I
sat in the stroller and mommy buckled me in, then wheeled me out of her office and into the elevator. My face was already turning beet red at the public
humiliation I was about to undergo, being publically displayed as my wife's baby in front of her entire office building. As the elevator descended, I
thought of a question.
"Um, mommy, are you going to let me cum?"
Mommy looked down at me and smiled, then knelt and kissed me first on the forehead, then on the mouth. She then clamped a hand onto my diapered crotch, and
whispered in my ear - "maybe for your birthday".
THE END

story

The Way I Was

Over the last 34 years, Ive dealt with the fact that I am unable to keep my bed dry at night. Ive tried sleep alarms, medication, kegel exercises, limiting my drinking before bed and even hypnosis. I got myself in the best physical condition of my life in college and it still didnt make a difference. Ive been to urologists, psychologists and psychiatrists. Aside from the inevitable depression in my teens as a result of what I learned was nocturnal enuresis, I was declared healthy by everyone I saw. Inevitably, the fact that I was wearing diapers to bed became an integral part of my coming of age and budding sexuality. The first time I awoke with a wet and sticky diaper I was perplexed and aroused. I didn't know what arousal was but I knew whatever I was feeling, felt good.
When I discovered the ABDL world on the internet I was initially disgusted and confused. The ageplay and regression didn't appeal to me at all because I had spent my life trying to prove to myself that I was still a grown up even if I couldn't keep the bed dry. However, over the years I started to see the value of interacting with the community because at the very least, there are a number of really understanding people out there and maybe someday I would work up the courage to actually contact one of them. The idea scared me for years until one day I met someone in a chat room that lived in my area. She was really understanding and actually had some funny perspectives on sexuality and what makes people tick. She, like a number of people in the community, couldn�t really pin point why she enjoyed regressing and wearing a diaper, but she wasn't embarassed by it because the way she saw it, it was a part of who she was. Her attitude: I will not apologize for who I am.
I will not apologize for who I am. This phrase became my mantra. She and I began emailing on a nearly daily basis. Everyday that I woke up to one of her emails I left the house feeling like I could do anything. Somehow, my life started to make more sense. My attitude at work improved and I even started dating which I had, up until meeting her, avoided for the most part. The occassional tryst in college always ended in my leaving before going to sleep and under no circumstances did I ever bring anyone back to my dorm room or apartment. About two years ago I happened to see the film "You've Got Mail." It's a sappy little tail of two people that email each other anonymously and fall in love with a couple of funny little twists about their lives intertwining prior to their actual meeting. It got me thinking about the possibility of actually meeting this mystery woman.
After another year of emails, with two significant lapses in communication, I went so far as to suggest that we meet. We had built a trust over quite a long time and I figured that at the very least, a cup of coffee and a personal thank you was appropriate. To my surprise, she agreed. In fact, she in turn was surprised that I would actually suggest it. We traded text messages and saw each other's last name for the first time. This was a big step for me, and later I learned for her as well. I can tell you that I nearly threw up when I hit send but managed to keep myself together. The time, date and place were set and the next three days were so nerve wracking I can't even begin to describe it. Half the time I was telling myself that there was no possible way I could go through with it and the other half of me was convinced that it was going to be a storybook ending- a Hanks/Ryan blissful moment. The long and short of it is that it ended up being somewhere in between.
There wasn't a book with a rose on a table but we both showed up and both blushed so much the whole time that it was exhausting. There wasn't an insane sexual connection but rather a big sister/little brother feeling about the whole thing. She was only a year older but she had so much more experience with people and travel and life and I felt a weird kinship with her. Another factor that contributed to the dynamic was that she came straight from her office and was dressed in a pant suit whereas I had left my landscaping job, gone home to clean up and had a much more casual look. It was subtle, but that was one of a few details that seemed to accentuate the differences in our personalities. After our coffee she suggested that we take a walk and actually took my hand in hers on the way out the door. This was the first time in a long, long time that I felt reassured and almost secure. She somehow put my anxiety to rest and made me feel comfortable. She was the only person outside of my family to ever know my deepest, darkest secret and it didn't matter to her at all. The really interesting part for me was that I felt like I regressed in her presence. After all of the emails and the reassurance that she had given me by boosting my confidence in myself and what I did, I suddenly regressed to being really shy again.
We saw each other on and off for about 6 months before I saw the little girl persona that she had told me about. We had planned a day at the inner harbor and she showed up in a skirt with her hair pulled back in a ponytail that poked through her baseball cap. Sneakers replaced her usual heels, an oversized sweatshirt replaced her suite and a hello kitty backpack completed her look. She greeted me with a huge hug and a deviant look that indicated something was amiss. When I asked her what the story was she handed me her pack and "nuffin, Q howld my bag pwease?" I laughed. She frowned. She broke character only for a moment to say, "just because your pants are dry doesn't mean you still aren't younger than me, but today you're older." Then she smiled and skipped off down the sidewalk.
I chased her down and said "excuse me young lady, but am I to understand that your pants aren't dry?"
"I'm not wearing pants silly-head," as she grasped her crotch,"but I think I had an accident on the walk over."
I paused for a second after hearing that and then looked down at the bag in my hand, then up at her. She flashed a big grin and I unzipped her pack and looked inside. It shouldn't have shocked me but I'll admit it, I started blushing when I saw the diapers, wipes and powder. I zipped the bag and asked her if she needed a change. "No, and not from you anyway," she replied.
We spent the rest of the day wandering around the waterside, stopping for a snack every so often so that she could go into the restroom and get herself cleaned up. It was a fantastic day that I'll never forget. She would go in and out of her alter ego so our conversations ranged from ladybugs and lollipops to career goals and sexual encounters. She would generally dominate the later topic since her life had been a great deal more active than mine. Those conversations would inevitabley wind their way to her saying, "you know, if you would make less of a deal about wearing diapers to bed and more of a deal about how you felt about the woman you would have allot more fun."
I would nod, look at the ground and change the subject. She would sigh, make a joke, and return to her littlegirl land. A few times she bent over far enough that I could see her diaper and I worried that others might. When I said as much to her she laughed and shrugged it off. She wasn't flaunting it but deep down I think that was part of the thrill for her. The idea that someone might catch her in the act of her age play. She described the feelings she got when someone noticed and said that got her so wet she could almost orgasm from it. She told me that she once went on a ferris wheel and let her skirt fly up "accidentally." No one noticed it but when she went home that night she pretended that they did and that she was really embarrassed by it. These were the thoughts she used to get herself off. These were the thoughts I had that made me want to cry.
She was really understanding about how I've had to come to terms with my situation and how different it is for her that she gets so turned on by intentionally wetting herself. It took a bit of prying but we finally talked about how when I was a freshman in high school, I went on vacation with the whole family. This was the most vivid memory I had about being utterly humiliated and wanting to cry. It was week with my parents and I and a slew of uncles, aunts and cousins. The total headcount was around thirty people. The majority of them probably knew about what my mother casually referred to as my nightly problem because of how the ladies of the family gossiped but I rarely saw any of them so I had hoped it wasn't on the front of their mind.
It was a week in Maine, which is a long drive up from Maryland in case you haven't had the chance to take the trip. We left on Friday evening after my parents got home from work and arrived early Saturday morning. It would be a night's sleep in the car for me so I got ready for bed before leaving. My mother didn't even have to ask, she just looked at my with a raised eyebrow as I walked toward the car and I returned a slight nod, indicating that I was indeed ready for bed. She smiled and that was that. It was a pretty nice ride once we got past NYC and by ten o'clock the sun was setting and I dozed off. I awoke when the car stopped at the end of the off ramp in Maine. The sun was coming up and my mother was now driving the car with my father asleep in the passenger's seat. He stirred as the car rumbled onto the gravel drive that went in toward the lake.
My aunt and uncle on my mother's side were sitting on the porch to the cabin having their coffee when we pulled in. The second I saw them I realized that I should have changed, I just didn't think anyone would be up at that hour. I looked down and started to panic. My mother gave me a sympathetic tilt of the head in the rear view mirror. She obviously realized what I was going through. My father made a crack about my aunt looking like she crawled out of a bottle this morning, a comment that flew over my head and was later clarified by my mother. My parents hopped out of the car and exchanged hugs with my aunt and uncle and I slowly opened the door and moved toward the trunk to retrieve my suitcase. I remember wishing I had worn windpants instead of sweatpants because of the sound, and because my bottomwouldn't look as droopy. I fumbled around in the trunk for a minute until hearing my name called and then a beckoning to come for a hug. I took a deep breath and came around the car. My uncle flashed me a big smile and extended his hand while my aunt's eyes went straight to my waist.
The hug I received was enough. The pat on the butt and my aunt talking over me to my mother saying, "still has the nighttime problem huh?" really mad me mad. Then, as only mother's can do, they started having a conversation about me as though I wasn't there. My father and uncle had no interest in the conversation and went to unpacking the car.
"Come on boy, give us a hand," my uncle said. He was a pretty good guy and knew my situation wasn't easy. I unpacked the car with them and was treated to tid bits of my mother's conversation like "well, at least you're not having to change him anymore," and "at least he's dry during the day," as I walked by each time. The ladies went inside as we finished unpacking and I could hear my cousins starting to stir so I grabbed the last bag and hurried into the cabin and back to the bathroom as quickly as possible. The last thing I wanted was for any of them to see me for the first time in years and be in a wet diaper. Well, no such luck.
My older cousin came out of her room and said "Hey! Look who's here!" She made an entire 3 seconds before looking to my drooping pants. Not to disappoint, she was her mother's daughter afterall, she says,"uh oh, somebody needs a new diaper." That was the clincher, the other 2 cousins and one of their friends all of a sudden came out of the woodwork and I stood in an already wet diaper, in the middle of the room, surrounded by stares, tears running down my cheeks and wet myself.
I was distraught. "I went into my room and didn't come out for the entire day," I said to lovely woman who stood before me in her own wet diaper.
"That's a heck of a way to start a vacation," she said with a laugh that completely disarmed me.
"Yeah, about as good as it gets," I said.
"So was the rest of the week that bad?"
"Not that I remember. I just remember my aunt being a pain with her snide remarks. I do remember she got an earful from my mother when she checked to see if I was wet one night. The adults were all having drinks and my aunt was a sloppy drunk. That's when I found out what my father meant by saying she crawled out of a bottle."
"She checked to see if you were wet?!? You were fourteen years old!"
"Who are you telling? She pulled me over to her side, yanked down my pajamas and put her finger in my pants!"
"You mean diaper."
"Whatever. After that night I don't think my mother spoke to her again. So anyway, what-"
"You want to know what's really crazy?" she said, cutting me off. "Just thinking about my being in that situation gets me wet."
"Seems to me you're wet more often than not," I joked.
"Yeah, it's a great way to live."
At the end of the day, I walked her home. We stood at her front door and had the awkward silence that would normally precede a first kiss until she said, "you're a really sweet guy, and I like you allot, but..."
"That's alright, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything," I interrupted. "I know you and I are at two different stages in our lives."
"It's not that and you know it. You were just thinking about kissing me goodnight, and I was thinking the same thing. The "but" wasn't about stages. I don't even know what that means "stages." The but was about you being able to handle a relationship. I mean a real relationship. I don't want to be your mommy and I can see that your insecurities could lead to that sort of interaction. You're a great friend and I like that I make you feel better about yourself. You make me feel wonderful with all your attentiveness and your sense of humor. I love that we've met."
"But you don't love me."
"Oh come on now, you don't love me, you love the idea of me. But you're imagining me as a different person than I am and you know that's true too."
She gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek. It felt more like a pat on the head than anything else. At least she didn't pat me on the bottom. To this day we're still friends, though she rarely shows me her other side anymore. Instead, our relationship has evolved into what almost feels like patient/doctor which she tells me can be fun too. When she got engaged last week she left a message on my phone that almost felt like a goodbye. So now, as I sit here this morning in my wet diaper, I write out this story to close a chapter and start anew, different from the way I was.
Story from dailydiaper.com

The diaper punishment story


  

A Common (Generic) Diaper Punishment Story



Some of you will probably dislike this story (and a couple more I have in mind) because they are unlike my usual writing. They are quick-moving, not very detailed, and generic. However, I have had a few diaper punishment stories in mind for a little while, and I want to go ahead and get them out of my head to sort of clear away clutter. This means there will be about three very short, very generic stories - but maybe someone will enjoy them. Let me know!
When I was 15, I told my mother I was having a problem wetting my bed. I even told her I wore diapers to bed because of it. Actually, I was wearing a plastic pant over several pair of thick underpants. I would wash them out when I wet and I would hang them up to dry in my closet. Sometime during that year I did end up getting a package of Gerber cloth diapers that I used from then on. Sometimes on weekends I would get the house to myself for a little while and I would wash my diapers in the washing machine and use the dryer -that was a lot easier.
My mother was never less than supportive. She saw my diapers from time to time - she saw the plastic sheet I put on my bed for awhile, and so on. She never said anything discouraging about it, and just let me handle it myself. She did say a couple times that if it didn't stop she wanted to take me to the doctor, but I kept saying I didn't need to.
I always kind of wished I had asked her to take a strict approach to my "little problem". Often, I have wondered what might have happened had I been treated harshly and punished for it. This is a fantasy story involving that line of thinking. It is a bit generic - but some people like those type stories.
---------------------------------------------------------------
"If it keeps up for a long time, we will have to take you to see a doctor about it," my mother said, finishing up her concerned reaction after I had confessed to her I had been having a bedwetting problem for the last couple months, and I had even begun to wear diapers for it.
I was shocked - it had taken a lot of courage for me to tell, and I had expected - even hoped (though nervously) for more of a reaction than THIS. "Umm - is that ALL?" I asked incredulously.
Now she was surprised. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well - I ummm..." I turned red with embarrassment. "I mean, I was kinda hoping.... well, when I was six and I wet the bed a few times, you scolded me and threatened to put rubber sheets on the bed, or maybe even put me in diapers and make me sleep in the crib..."
My mother chuckled. "You're not six anymore," she pointed out the obvious. "You're a bit big for the crib ... and you've taken care of the diapers already," she said with a smile. "Believe me, if you weren't wearing diapers, I would suggest rubber sheets. As for scolding - well - do you REALLY want me to?"
"Umm - well..." I blushed harder, and just nodded. "Even more than that," I said. I was hoping that being punished would help me to stop - I've tried everything else, and punishment is always the last
resort..."
"Exactly what kind of punishment?" my mother asked. I didn't answer; I just stared at my feet. "Scolding you like a naughty little boy?" she asked, getting a nod from me. "Maybe putting you in the corner?" I nodded again. "More?" she asked, and I looked up at her.
"Ahh - I see. Well, if you feel so strongly about it that you actually ASK for one, then I guess you really do need a good hard spanking, don't you?" Her voice started to take one the tone of lecturing a small
child. "Well? Isn't that what you need?" she pressed.
"I - I guess so..." My voice quivered and I suddenly felt and sounded much younger.
"I think you KNOW so," she said. With that, she took my hand and led
meto her bedroom, picking up the wooden hairbrush on her dresser.
"How many spanks do you think you deserve?" she asked me. This was not uncommon - whenever I more my siblings were spanked at younger ages we were asked this. It was always a dilemma - you would want to ask for the smallest amount you could get away with, but if you asked for too few, you would get more for trying to get away with that.
"....Until I cry," I admitted. This seemed a safe way to answer.
"And then some," she decided for me. She sat on the bed, and undid my pants. If I COULD have turned any more red, I would have then, as my pants and underwear were pulled down. As she pulled my underwear down, she commented that "You may just not be ready for these yet - perhaps Mommy needs to put you back in diapers all day like a little baby - what do you think about that?"
"But I don't NEED them all day," I whined, feeling younger and naughtier by the second.
She pulled me down over her knee. "At your age, you shouldn't need them at ALL," she lectured, starting to spank me quickly with her hand. "Aren't you ashamed!? Being spanked and wearing diapers to bed at your age!" After a minute of this, she picked up the wooden hairbrush. I felt a burst of stinging heat as she brought it down across my bottom, and it continued to build like bee stings as she spanked me again and again. Finally, I could hold back no longer and I began to cry and kick my feet as the spanking continued. It seemed like it went on forever, but I am sure it was really only a couple minutes before she stopped. Once she stopped, she hugged me, then led me to a corner and told me I had to stand there - with my naughty bottom displayed - for 15 minutes. I wasn't allowed to rub my bottom, and the sting and eventual itch was almost as bad as the spanking itself - almost.
When my corner time was over, I was led back to my own room, and my mother asked me where my diapers were. I told her, and she got one out of the box that was hidden in my closet, and then picked up some baby powder she had brought to my room and set on my dresser. There on my bed, I was diapered by her for the first time since I was two. I turned red again as she pulled the diaper up tightly between my legs, and fastened it snugly around my hips and waist.
It was only , but my mother said it was time for bed now, just like when I was little. I knew there was no way I could hope to avoid a wet diaper tonight, since I was going to bed so early.
Sure enough, I awoke in the middle of the night, straining to hold back. I suppose I could have got up and went to the bathroom, but then I would have had to wrestle with getting my diaper off and back on right (which was no easy feat with the diapers then), and besides I was sleepy and it felt like it would be cold if I got out from under my blankets. So, I just relaxed and let it flow into my diaper, enjoying the warm tingling sensation as my diaper filled and swelled.
In the morning, my mother woke me up and showed me a calendar. "So we can keep track of your progress - or lack thereof," she told me. "We will put a gold star on mornings you are dry, and a black W when you are wet. She noticed the look on my face when she said that, and added, "Like I am guessing you are this morning."
"Ok…"I said. This didn't sound too bad - I just had to make sure no one saw this calendar, although she was now putting it up in a prominent place over the headboard of my bed.
"Wait- there is more," she said. I was afraid of that. "I will check your diapers every morning. You may put them on at night, but I will be checking to make sure you are diapered before bed, and if I catch you even once without a diaper at bedtime, I will be diapering you from then on. If I find your diaper wet in the morning, after you put a W on your calendar, you will be spanked. You can either be spanked in your room bare-bottom, or on your diaper if you take it in the Living Room in front of your sister. One more thing - if you have five or more wet nights during a week, you will spend the next Saturday in diapers all day, and you will use them.If you ever have 10 wet nights in a row, you will be sent to school in diapers for a day."
This was a lot to take in, and before I even had a chance to digest it all, she pulled the covers down, revealing my obviously soaked diaper. With the black marker, she put a W on the day on the calendar, thenasked me, "Well, will it be here on your bare bottom, or in the Living Room on your diaper?"
I figured my sister must know about this already, and besides, I didn't have much hope of making it through without having at least one Saturday in diapers, and she would see me in diapers then if not before that time. I figured now was as good a time as any, and the spanking wouldn't be half as painful on my diaper. I chose the Living Room.
My sister was already up, and watched as my mother brought me over to the couch in my diaper, which by now was drooping a bit. She giggled as I was pulled over Mom's knee, and spanked. I was right in thinking it wouldn't hurt as much on the diaper, although it hurt a little since the diaper was wet, and it was more humiliating. After the spanking I spent another ten minutes in the corner, before being allowed to go clean up and get dressed.
There wasn't a full week before the first weekend arrived, but the next weekend I found myself spending a Saturday in diapers. Fortunately, I had two dry nights, and was able to escape the ten wet night penalty of being sent to school in a diaper. When I awoke Saturday, I was in a wet diaper as usual. It was marked on the calendar, but rather than getting a spanking afterward, my mother simply went to the closet and brought back a dry diaper, and something new - a container of baby wipes. It felt so foreign to me to have the diaper untaped, drawn out from under me, and then be subjected to the cold baby wipe all over my most private area. It also felt foreign to have powder sprinkled and be taped in a new diaper rather than be able to get dressed.
Another thing I hadn't thought about happened after breakfast. I realized I had to go to the bathroom - but not just for wetting. I tried to tell my mother, but she again repeated the rules to me… when being diaper punished on a Saturday, I was not to use the "potty" at all, I was to use my diapers.
I knew it was futile to resist, but I still tried to hold it. It wasn't long before I gave up the battle, opting for comfort instead. It was a relief to let it out, but then it felt awful in the seat of my diaper. My mother did not make me wait long for a change, and though it was embarrassing, this time I was very happy to get my diaper changed.
My bedwetting was so bad, that this almost became a ritual and it was uncommon for me to have a Saturday without diapers. This proved disastrous one Saturday, when I completely without thinking just let go while watching Saturday morning cartoons, soaking my pants and unfortunately also the couch. My mother thought about it, and then told me that I would have to wear diapers all the time whenever I was at home. As soon as I got home from school, I was immediately taken to my room and diapered. For the first few weeks, I asked for the toilet when I had to go, and my mother would remove the diapers for me to go, then put them back on me afterward. This got taxing, and after a few weeks I just asked if it would be ok to just use my diapers.

Over the summer, I was diapered constantly. When it came time for school, I found I no longer had any sort of control, and so it was that I started High School in diapers. It was funny - our school was K-12 and also had a preschool - in the preschool they required children to be out of diapers to be enrolled. I guess no one ever thought they might need to apply that rule to High School!





THIS STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION
My wife Linda has always been my mistress. It's no secret that I married her because I loved how she strict she was, but I had no idea how strict she could
be
until recently. It all started one morning about six months ago. I was awoken from a deep sleep by my sexy wife's beatiful voice.
"Wake, up little man." she intoned harshly.
I opened my eyes obediently to see her standing over me. Just as quickly I felt that she'd tied me to the bed. Across the room, our television set seemed
to be cued to play some kind of video. Silently, Linda pressed the play button on the vcr and surveillance footage from my office job began to play. It was
me in the lobby of the building, openly chatting with the female desk clerk. I watched myself talking with the young woman on the security footage for about
a minute, before allowing her to kiss me on the cheek and, just before I walked away, squeeze the front of my pants, with no visible sign of disagreement
from myself. My wife stopped the video.
"How long have you been cheating on me? Answer truthfully."
I tried to form a reply as quickly as I could. "I wasn't cheating, I was just-"
"You were just what, spending time with another woman? Enjoying her touch? Did you think I wouldn't check up on the comings and goings of my own husband?
As far as I'm concerned, this is a violation of our marriage vows."
"But I-" I tried to protest, but Linda cut me short again.
"But nothing. You have failed my trust, and things can't be the way they were before between us, not now that I've learned how irresponsible you really are.
Now, my husband, you have a choice to make. I have two contracts here. One is a simple divorce contract. It will require our seperation and return to you
all the shared property of ours which is rightfully yours. The other is a continuance of marriage contract. It will allow you to remain my husband, but
only under very specific terms, which are outlined in the contract, and which will be explained to you only once you have signed it and yourself over to me.
Both are legally binding. You are going to sign one today, or I will drag you and this video through court and take everything you own. Which contract will
you sign, divorce or marriage? Choose now."
"M-marriage." I stuttered fearfully as I thought of what the contents of the contract might be. With that, she placed a pen in my hand and moved a paper
close enough to it for me to sign. I was afraid of what she was going to do to me, but I couldn't stand the thought of never seeing my beloved mistress
again. I signed the document. My wife leaned in and planted her painted lips on mine, her tongue probing and penetrating my mouth as her right hand
searched my body, fondling first my torso, then my penis. She began to pump my member with my hand, then slowly began to kiss her way down my neck, then my
chest, then my belly, then, just as her open mouth was hovering over my rock hard prick, she withdrew.
"Good boy." She proclaimed, and smiled at me. "Now mommy can begin your punishment." She reached under the bed and pulled out what appeared to be several
white sheets. "These, my pet, are diapers. Your diapers, to be exact. Of course they don't actually belong to you, nothing in this house belongs to you
now, not even your own body, but these diapers are now your permanent wardrobe, so you should think of them as your diapers." Linda explained this as she
slid six of the diapers under my bottom, then continued as she poured lotion, baby oil, and talcum powder all over my nether region. She then pulled the
thick cloth diapers into place and pinned them tightly with bright silver safety pins, continuing to speak as she did so.
"It's obvious to me that you have no self control. You just let your dick guide you around with no thoughts of my feelings whatsoever, and this is
completely unnacceptable. You have not acted as a man, but as a child, and I intend to control you like one. Obviously you don't need a wife, you need a
mommy, and that is what you have made me today with your signing of our marriage contract. You have renewed our marriage vows with additional vows of
financial slavery and diaper chastity, and I intend to make you keep them. From now on, everything you make will go directly into my personal bank account.
There will be no chance for you to use any money to be unfaithful to me in any way. Furthermore, as I have explained, since you have demonstrated that you
can only act as as child, I see that I have no choice but to control as a loving mother would her unruly son. This means I am reintroducing you to diapers.
You are my baby now. You will always be my baby, and you will always wear diapers for me."
As she explained this, she produced a pair of white plastic pants with silver chains around the waist and leg holes. She freed my legs, pulled the plastic
pants up over my diapers, and locked them shut.
"There, you're trapped in your diapers. I've made sure that they're very thick, and your plastic pants have an extra thick shield in the front, so there's
no way you can you stroke yourself. As a matter of fact, you're never going to touch yourself ever again. Only I, your mommy, now have that privilege. I
intend to be a very attentive mommy, so don't worry about being hurt by diaper rash. If anything, I want to show you how much I love you by keeping you nice
and clean and by preventing you from injuring yourself through self-abuse. From now on, you won't have the opportunity to run around behind my back, because
you're going to need mommy to change your diaper regularly. Of course, I don't want you inconveniencing people to come across town from your office to be
changed in the middle of the day, which is why I've had you fired from your old job and installed in my office, as my new secretary. Here is what will
happen. I am going to feed you a breakfast laced with powerful diuretics and laxatives. Then, I am going to take you to work with me. You will be placed
in the office of the business I oversee with several of my employees. As you work, you will also be digesting your breakfast. When your breakfast is
digested, you will need to relieve your bladder and bowels. You will not want to relieve your bladder and bowels there in public, but you will have no
choice in the matter. The bathroom door at my office is locked, and you will be the only one without a key. That bathroom is off limits to you, as are all
bathrooms, unless I have taken you into one to bathe you. You will tense your bowels, cross your legs, do everything you can to keep from using your diaper
like a baby, but it will be impossible. You will use your diaper. You will use it profusely, and you will use it in public. Then you will want to be
changed, and I will change you, happily. But you may not walk across the room and whisper to me that you need a diaper change. Instead, you must shout, so
that the whole office can hear you. In a loud clear voice you must proclaim "Mommy, I need a diaper change!" and then I will change you. Is this
understood, little boy?
I nodded, and began to agree. "Yes Lin-"
She interrupted me. "Say 'Yes Mommy."
"Yes Mommy."
"Good baby." With that, she pinched my nose shut, and began shoveling baby food into my mouth.
Two hours later, everything mommy said had come to pass. There I sat at my new desk, the bulk of my huge diaper obvious through my khakis. Behind me, mommy
was working in her office with the door open. To the left and right of me in offices with open doors were more of my new superiors, beautiful young women in
tight fitting business suits, and in front of me a pool of desks attended by similarly attired young women. My desk had just been moved in that day, and
everyone was looking at the man in the bulky pants in the center of the room. I had already been hearing titters all morning of "little diaper baby" and
"looks like someone's naughty". I had no actual work to do and instead was being forced to write with a crayon, in double sized letters on unlined paper, an
essay titled "Why I Love My Mommy". Many of the young women had already looked over and seen me writing, and I could tell they were stifling laughs. But
that wasn't what concerned me now. What I was worried about at that moment was the pressure in my urethra and lower intestine. I had to piss and shit, and
I couldn't last much longer. I began rocking back and forth in my chair in total frustration, and suddenly it happened. I released. Pee and poo filled my
diaper. Many of the women at the desks nearest me inhaled sharply and frowned at the smell of my waste. The heat of it was unbearable. My erection
strained for attention in it's shitty, pissy prison. I needed mommy to clean me, I needed her touch.
Almost involuntarily, at the top of my lungs, so everyone in the office could hear me, I yelled "MOMMY, I NEED A DIAPER CHANGE!" Mommy walked cooly around
to the front of my desk, joined by a young woman on either side of her. "My my baby boy, made quite a mess in your diapers haven't you? Well, not to worry,
mommy's here to clean you right up. With that, two more young women rolled what plainly was a changing table with a stack of thick diapers and containers of
baby powder, baby oil, and a bottle of formula on it. "This is your changing table, baby. Now lie down." said mommy. I did as I was told, and submissively
lay down for my first diaper change. Mommy and her helpers were very efficient in cleaning and rediapering me, their quick hands felt incredible against my
skin as they wiped me clean and rubbed lotions on me, driving me almost to the peak of ecstacy but never allowing me to orgasm. Just as quickly they
rediapered me, making my prison even thicker this time, and simultaneously the large bottle of formula was shoved into my mouth, and I was obliged to drink
until it was empty.
"Throw his clothes away, he doesn't deserve them anyway and I want to show off my baby boy to all you girls." Commanded Linda. With that, all my clothing
save my diaper was taken away from me and thrown down a nearby garbage chute. Mommy bade me stand, and she began to kiss me deeply while she squeezed my
diaper. Even though I couldn't feel her hand, I shuddered in arousal. Then, she tied a light blue baby bonnet around my head and popped a large pacifier in
my mouth, which was secured around my neck by a long baby blue ribbon. "Now, go finish your essay for mommy." she commanded. I returned to my desk and as I
began to write I could feel the formula that I'd been fed working in conjuction with the chemicals that were already in my body. As I wrote the words "I
love my mommy" I could feel myself urinating involuntarily into my diaper. Without even thinking about it, I immediately called out again "Mommy, I need a
diaper change!" causing my pacifier to fall out of my mouth. The girls in the office laughed at this. Mommy called back to me from her office. "Already,
sweetheart? Did you pee pee or poo poo?" Part of me was still completely humiliated and resented being forced to this, but I couldn't resist announcing to
my wife "I pee peed in my diaper, mommy!" This made some of the women laugh a bit. "Not just yet, sweety. You just call for mommy again when you poo poo,
okay?" I wanted out of my wet diaper, but I knew I'd have to wait. "Yes mommy." I replied.
At the end of the day, just before five, I had thoroughly soiled myself, and was back on the changing table looking up at mommy as she put me into clean
diapers. She was being very kind and loving to me now, cooing softly to me in baby talk and planting kisses on me as she fastened my diapers. "I want you
to know, baby, that I'm very pleased how this is working out, and I think you've been a very good baby for me today. I'm very proud of you for writing such
a good essay about how much you love me, and I feel that you deserve this diaper change. In fact, mommy's so happy with what baby wrote for her, that
tomorrow I'm going to let you write an essay on how you're going to be a good baby. Doesn't that sound fun?" I nodded humbly and mommy smiled and tickled
my chin, causing me to giggle and drool a bit.
"Ok, now that I've got your diaper changed, it's time for mommy to take you home." Linda announced. With this, she wheeled from her office a large stroller.
"Sit down in your stroller, baby. We're going home. Don't bother arguing with me or asking for any additional clothes, remember you signed a contract." I
sat in the stroller and mommy buckled me in, then wheeled me out of her office and into the elevator. My face was already turning beet red at the public
humiliation I was about to undergo, being publically displayed as my wife's baby in front of her entire office building. As the elevator descended, I
thought of a question.
"Um, mommy, are you going to let me cum?"
Mommy looked down at me and smiled, then knelt and kissed me first on the forehead, then on the mouth. She then clamped a hand onto my diapered crotch, and
whispered in my ear - "maybe for your birthday".
THE END

We all have a child and we all have a punishment side:)


abls story- country life


Country Life


This is a work of fiction about imaginary kids who wear diapers. If you don’t like the subject matter, you should probably look for something else to read.
Part One
I had never been happier. The first three weeks after our move to a new house had been the best of my life. Prior to this, all the kids I had ever known teased me and made fun of me because of my need for diapers. More often than not I came home from school feeling ashamed or angry. It seemed that everybody my age thought that I was the perfect target for persecution. It was no wonder that I spent so much time alone, fantasizing about having friends and doing fun stuff with them. Three months ago when my parents announced that we needed to move I could hardly believe it. At last, I thought, a chance to start over without everyone knowing my shameful secret.
My name is Daniel Eversby. My parents are Randy and Elaine Eversby. I have one sister, Kayla, who is three years older than me. She’ll be in tenth grade next year. I think that we have a pretty good family. I guess that my sister and I do do our share of fighting (mostly about whose turn it is for chores around the house) but I have to say that she has never teased me about my diapers.
My parents are both graphic designers and they work from a home office. They had spent years carefully growing the business and it was time to relocate.
“Kids,” my mom explained, “for several weeks, dad and I have been talking about what to do. We have come up with a basic plan that we want you to know about so that you can give us your comments. At first, we thought that we could simply go out and rent some office space. You guys are old enough that we don’t have to worry about you so much after school. But, we quickly found out that the cost is way too high. Also, the more we thought about it the more we realized that we are running the business in the wrong location. When we started out, we worked exclusively here in town. Now we have clients who are fifty miles away or more.”
My dad laid out a map in front of us. Red dots indicated the locations of mom and dad’s clients.
“Wow,” I exclaimed, “look at all these over here in Quatrain.”
“Exactly,” dad agreed, “we have almost as many clients there as we do here, in Manning.”
It was obvious that it would make more sense to live halfway between the two locations.
“We started looking around for potential locations when we stumbled across a great opportunity. here, just outside of Sievert,” dad said pointing to the map.
“But that’s in the middle of nowhere!” Kayla objected.
“Not really, honey. It’s true that Sievert is smaller than Manning but it has twelve thousand people,” mom explained.
“But, mom. What about all my friends? I’ll never see them again.”
That was a line I wasn’t likely to say but I sympathized with her. It would be tough for her to move.
“Honey, you’re an attractive girl and you’re very good with people. You’ll make new friends quickly,” dad said encouragingly. “Let’s at least go look at the area and the property we have in mind and then you can decide.”
My parents’ suggestion that we move to the country didn’t surprise me at all. They’re very ‘back-to-nature’ kinds of people. Our family vacations always involve going to national parks and backpacking. Even at home, they prefer to keep things simple. They use lots of ‘natural’ cleaners and won’t allow paper plates or other single-use items like plastic cups and forks.
This also means that I wear cloth diapers and reusable protective underwear. During the day I usually wear multi-layer cotton underpants that have a protective shield inside. (Only the shield is disposable; the rest is washable.) I can usually go about one to two hours without problems. For times when it’s unlikely that I’ll be near a bathroom, I wear flannel diapers that have three layers of terry cloth lining. I wear semi-transparent white plastic pants with them. My nighttime diapers are six layers thick and are also worn with plastic pants.
Before we could leave I had to be put into my daytime diapers. I’m old enough to do this myself but I still prefer getting help. Kayla volunteered. She wanted to talk about the move without our parents being around.
“Do you really want to move?” Kayla asked.
“Well,” I hedged, “it would make life easier for mom and dad. They wouldn’t have to do so much driving for the business.”
“But I’ve got friends and I don’t want to leave them.”
She saw the hurt in my eyes at her reference to her friends and the implication that I didn’t have any (which was basically true).
“I mean,” she backtracked, “it’ll be hard for everybody.”
We didn’t talk for the rest of the time. She finished powdering me and pinning on my diaper. I pulled my plastic pants up and she checked that my diaper wasn’t sticking out anywhere.
The trip to Sievert took about forty-five minutes. It was pretty small but the downtown seemed active. I noticed that were a fair number of kids my age. If only… I thought. Kayla seemed intent on criticizing everything. She thought that the downtown was weird and that the people seemed to dress funny. I had to agree on the second point. Lots of the boys and men were dressed in overalls.
“Honey, this is an agricultural area. People are going to dress accordingly,” mom explained (with a note of irritation in her voice).
We then drove outside of town about a mile or so. We turned into a long gravel driveway that led to an old-fashioned two-story farmhouse. A man came out of the house and waited for us as my dad parked the car.
“Mr. & Mrs. Eversby, welcome back. I see you brought the family this time.”
“Yes, Mr. Turner. I hope we’re not intruding.”
“Not at all. My wife is inside doing some cooking for tonight’s church social, that’s all.”
We were introduced to Mr. Turner and then to Mrs. Turner. They seemed very friendly. We were given a tour of the house. It had been extensively renovated at some point. I was surprised by how modern everything seemed. My mom made a comment about how spacious the kitchen was, to which my dad reminded her that he was the one who did most of the cooking. The upstairs contained four bedrooms.
“This is where we did most of the renovation. There used to be seven small rooms up here. Now, as you can see, each room is very spacious and has its own bathroom,” Mrs. Turner pointed out.
“Which room would I get?” I asked excitedly.
“How about this one?” mom suggested.
It was about twice as big as my room at home. It overlooked the backyard and some fields beyond. I fell in love with it on the spot.
“When can we move?” I asked.
“Whoa!” dad laughed. “We haven’t even made an offer yet. If we do move it won’t be for several weeks, maybe even months.”
Kayla seemed to be getting into the mood, too. She and mom were in the room next door talking about how they could arrange her furniture and what kind of drapes would look nice. Still, I left depressed, thinking that the move might never take place and that I would be stuck in my screwed up life forever.
*****
My pessimism turned out to be wrong. Forty-five days later, on June 12, we were in the process of moving into our new house. I was ecstatic to be away from my tormentors; now, if I could only start over with new friends…
We followed the moving van and got to our new house at about 9:00am. (The loading of the van had taken place the previous day). We were barely out of the car when another car drove up behind us.
“Hello,” a cheerful woman called, “welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Lydia Montego and this is my son Wayne, Jr. and my daughter Cynthia. We’re from the next house up the road. Can you use some help?”
“Could we ever! Thank you,” my mom answered. “But I’m afraid that there’s a mountain of things to do. I hope you won’t be sorry for having offered,” she added with a laugh.
“Hard work is good,” she answered with a laugh in reply. “Come on, kids, let’s get to it.”
They immediately pitched in and began taking stuff into the house. Kayla and I were happy that Wayne and Elaine appeared to be our respective ages. If only… I thought to myself for the millionth time.
The movers worked under dad’s direction while the rest of us helped mom. The Montegos were good workers. Wayne and I exchanged very few words but I nonetheless felt comfortable working alongside him. Kayla and Cynthia began talking up a storm and our moms had to goad them back to work several times. By 12:30, the van was emptied and the movers were gone.
“Let’s stop here for lunch,” mom suggested. “Is there a good place nearby where we could take you and your children to thank you for all your help?” mom asked Mrs. Montego.
“There sure is,” she answered enthusiastically. “It’s right next door… I’ve already got everything ready.”
“But we can’t have you doing that!” mom exclaimed.
“Why not?” Ms. Montego answered. “You’re in the country now. Out here people help each other all the time. I’m sure you’d do the same for me.”
Lunch was great. We had homemade soup, salad and sandwiches. For dessert, Mrs. Montego served the best chocolate cake I ever tasted. During lunch Wayne and I finally started talking to each other. He was my age and would be going into seventh grade next year. He promised to show me around the area and to help me get acquainted with things. I was in heaven… except for one little secret.
Just to be on the safe side, I had asked to be diapered that morning. At this point in the day, my diaper was thoroughly soaked and I wondered how to ask my mom to change me without making it obvious. Fortunately, she was way ahead of me. As soon as we got back to our house, she asked the Montegos and Kayla to organize the dining room hutch. She asked me to go with her upstairs so that I could tell dad how I wanted my room arranged. We had already talked about that so I knew that she was just making an excuse for me to leave without being noticed.
“You and Wayne seem to be getting along well,” she commented as she cleaned my diaper area.
“Yeah,” I answered smiling. “I hope it lasts.”
“I think it will, honey. He seems very mature. I think that he could keep a secret if he had to.”
“You’re not going to tell him, are you?” I asked in a near panic.
“Of course not. I just meant that he seems very trustworthy.”
When he got back downstairs Mr. Montego had arrived with some of his workers. He was talking to my dad.
“We thought that maybe we could help, too. You know, putting beds together, moving furniture around, getting rid of empty boxes.”
I never saw so much activity in my life. By six o’clock, the house was ninety percent put together. Even my parents’ new office had been set up. About the only things left to do were to hang pictures and put our clothes away in closets and dressers.
“We can’t thank you enough,” my mom said one more time. “I can’t believe what you’ve done for us today. Even the beds are made!”
“Now you stop that,” Mrs. Montego chided her. “It was our pleasure. Besides, my kids would have driven me crazy if they hadn’t been able to come over here and meet your kids,” she added with a hearty laugh. “You have no idea how happy they are to have kids their own age living nearby.”
And she had no idea how happy I was to have met Wayne. If only…
****
The next morning mom made me arrange my closet and dresser. By ten o’clock, I was ready to do some investigating of the area. Kayla changed me into a fresh diaper and I set off by myself. I had barely reached the end of the driveway when Wayne showed up.
“Hi,” he called out from somewhere. “Do you always sleep so late?”
“Whaa..?” I asked in surprise. “Where are you?”
“Over here, under the trees,” he answered.
I walked over and sat down across from him.
“I didn’t just get up,” I answered defensively. “My mom made me put my clothes away and straighten out my closet.”
“Oh. Well, anyway, what do you want to do?”
I didn’t know, so he led me on a tour of the area. Our two houses were closest neighbors to each other, about a quarter mile apart. After that he told me that the next house belonged to the Campbells who were older and had no kids left at home, and then one more a mile after that where there were three kids, but all little. Going in his direction, there was a house a half-mile away that also belonged to an older couple and then nothing until you got back into Sievert.
“Gee, what do you do for fun?” I asked.
“Sometimes I walk to the park in Sievert to see if anybody’s there. But, I don’t do that often.”
“Too far, huh?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s kind of far, but that’s not it.”
“Then, what?” I persisted.
“There are some really snobby kids in Sievert,” he answered.
I still didn’t get it. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.
“My family runs one of the last small farms left in the area. Lots of the kids whose parents have jobs in town look down on us. They don’t really do anything mean, it’s just that… I don’t know. They do little things like moo like cows when I walk by—stuff like that.”
“That is so stupid,” I said.
“Yeah, whatever,” he answered glumly. Then, switching topics completely, he asked, “Have you walked through your property yet?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered.
“The whole thing,” he insisted.
To tell the truth, I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant. I know that my parents said that the house came with a lot of land but I hadn’t paid attention to what that meant.
“”No, not the whole thing,” I said mimicking his emphasis.
“Do you want to?” he asked.
“Sure, why not?”
I was amazed at what he showed me. It seems that the whole property consisted of 240 acres, most of which was fields and open meadows- although about 80 acres were woodland.
“My dad rents about 100 acres from Mr. Turner, I mean, from you guys. Mr. Turner used to rent land to the Campbell’s, too, but since they don’t farm anymore I guess it’s just sitting there. The woods are real fun to go through. If you look hard you can find all kinds of neat stuff, even Indian arrowheads.”
We spent lots of time together after that. In the early mornings, he usually had chores to do (and my mom made me do my summer reading for at least one hour each day) but we usually found something to do each afternoon. I even started wearing bib overalls like he did. {At first I thought that their looser fit made my plastic pants noisier but I guess I was wrong because he never heard them.) We did lots of hiking and he started to teach me how to fish. These were times of almost uninterrupted relaxation for me. For the first time in my life I felt free to go around without fear of being accosted because of my diapers. Of course it couldn’t last.
Part Two
As I said before, the first three weeks were heaven. Wayne and I had gotten to know each and to genuinely like each other. While I hadn’t met any of his other friends yet, he kept assuring me that I would like them (and by implication that they would like me). The Fourth of July was a gathering day for the town and he said that I would get to meet lots of people at the parade and at the annual barbecue that followed. As the days went by I grew more and more confident.
And then it happened.
On the Saturday before the Fourth, Wayne and I got permission to walk to Sievert and go to the movies. We started out from Wayne’s house right after lunch. If we got there early enough we would also stop at the arcade and play some video games. We had just started out when I saw two figures approaching from the other direction.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“Can’t tell yet,” Wayne answered. A moment later, he added, “Oh, brother. It’s Mark Kielly and someone I’ve never seen before. You’re lucky that Mark was an eighth grader last year. He’ll be in high school next fall and you won’t have to deal with him for at least two years.”
“Is he a bully?” I asked fearfully.
“Kind of. But he’s not too bright so he usually gets caught.”
We kept walking when I suddenly recognized the other person. It was Ryan Anslert from my old school. He was a grade ahead of me. I didn’t know what to do. It was too late to turn around, and, besides, how could I explain it to Wayne?
“If it isn’t farmer boy,” Mark called out.
Before Wayne could answer, Ryan spotted me.
“Hey!” he yelled, “it’s Danny Pampers.”
I wanted to die. Wayne was going to find out about me.
“What did you call him?” Mark asked.
“He’s Danny Pampers. He used to go to my old school. He’s the biggest dork in the world. He can’t keep his pants dry so he wears Pampers.”
“I do not wear Pampers!” I screamed, hysteria rising within me.
“Whatever, but everybody knows that you’re some kind of retard. Do you know anyone else who needs to wear diapers?” he asked cruelly.
Wayne was standing motionless, looking from me to Ryan. I guess he wanted me to deny what Ryan had just said but I couldn’t. I panicked and ran home.
Once I got to my room, I slammed the door and leaned against it, screaming in frustration. Then, I collapsed onto the floor and began to sob uncontrollably. Mom and dad heard the commotion and came running upstairs. They had trouble getting in to my room because I was lying right in front of the door. Dad picked me up and sat me on the bed. I clung tightly to him, burying my head in his chest. Mom stroked my hair.
“What’s wrong?” they asked.
I couldn’t talk for almost ten minutes, and then, only in fits and starts.
“Wayne knows… Ryan Anslert told him.”
“Ryan Anslert?” my dad asked. “Who is Ryan Anslert?”
“From my old school… He told Wayne that kids called me Danny Pampers,” I wailed.
Eventually, my parents were able to piece the story together.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” mom said encouragingly. “Ryan Anslert doesn’t live here. Everything will be fine.”
“But Wayne lives here,” I said peevishly.
Why couldn’t my parents see what was happening? Wayne knew. He would tell others. Even if he didn’t, Mark Kielly would. I became even more despondent when I realized that Ryan had probably told all kinds of outrageous stories (even lies!) about me and I hadn’t there to defend myself. I derived some comfort from thinking that even if I had been there no one would have believed me. My parents tried to comfort me but I wasn’t in any mood to be consoled.
“Let’s at least get you out of these wet clothes,” my mom said.
I hadn’t noticed but I was very wet. I was wearing my special underpants with the shields in them. Since we were supposed to go into town I figured that I would be close enough to bathrooms to take care of my needs. I had put extra pads in the pockets of my overalls (big pockets were an advantage) just in case. However, all this upset took its toll. This was not really a surprise. Whenever I became upset I wet heavily. I also noticed that I had left a big wet spot on the bed and on my dad’s pants. I felt a wave of shame and my lower lip began to quiver.
“Honey, it’s OK,” my mom cooed soothingly. “It’s not your fault. Don’t cry.”
I tried to hold back but a few tears escaped my eyes anyway. Dad took care of stripping the bed and mom helped me get undressed. She changed me into a daytime diaper on the floor while dad remade the bed.
“Feel better?” they asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I said without much conviction.
“Do you want to stay up here or come down and help us finish a project?” dad asked.
I decided to stay upstairs. I was suddenly very tired and wanted to sleep. The next thing I remember, mom was waking me up. I was still dressed in only my diaper and plastic pants. I was wet.
“Danny, dinner’s almost ready. I think you should get up.”
I was somewhat groggy and unbelievably (to me anyway), I felt hungry.
“OK. Can you change me first?”
Mom was unusually gentle. I got dressed and went downstairs. Dinner was a pretty routine affair. Kayla must have been told what happened because she was pretty subdued, too. I watched some TV but I really wasn’t interested (and everything was reruns) so I went up to bed. I stayed awake most of the night replaying the day in my mind. I broke down and cried several times.
*****
The next morning I felt cranky but tried not to show it since everyone else was being so nice. Mom dressed me in a daytime diaper even though she knew I wasn’t likely to be going anywhere. I couldn’t blame her. I still felt pretty upset and would probably wet heavily for the next couple of days.
Around 10:30 there was a knock at the back door. Mom and dad were in their studio so I got up to answer it. I caught my breath when I saw that it was Wayne. He must want me to give back the CDs he let me borrow, I thought.
“Hi,” he said brightly.
“Hi,” I answered hesitantly.
“Well, can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.”
I was beginning to wonder. He seemed to be acting normally.
“Can we go somewhere private? I have to show you something,” he said mysteriously.
I was really turned around, now. What did he want? I led him up to my room. I had forgotten that mom had brought up some things for me to put away. Among my ‘normal’ clothes there were piles of diapers and plastic pants on the bed. I realized with a start that he was the first person outside the family to ever actually see my diapers and plastic pants. I guess it doesn’t matter any more.
Wayne paid no attention to the clothes on the bed and plopped down cross-legged on the floor. I stood over him for a second before I followed suit.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said.
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t start it,” I said with a catch my throat.
“I know. I mean I’m sorry about what that kid, Ryan, did to you. That was so unfair and immature. I’m sorry, too, that you’re sick.”
“I’m not exactly sick,” I clarified. “It’s just that I have this bladder problem that will probably never go away.”
“Anyway, those guys really made me mad, especially when Mark started saying that he was going to have lots of fun at the Fourth of July celebration telling everyone about you. After I went home, the more I thought about it the madder I got. Then, I got an idea. I was pretty sure that I knew where they had gone so I took my dad’s digital camera and went looking for them. Sure enough, they were at the pond that I showed you— where the guys go skinny dipping.”
I thought I knew where he was heading but I didn’t see what relevance it had to anything else.
“What good will pictures of them skinny dipping do? You told me that lots of guys do that.”
“Give me a chance,” he said, “I’m getting to my point. What I did was to sneak down to where they had left their clothes and I grabbed everything, except for their shoes and socks. My plan was to take some pictures of them walking naked together through the woods looking for their clothes. I figured that I would tell Mark that if he blabbed about your diapers I would arrange for those pictures to start showing up in embarrassing places. I hid myself in some bushes and waited. Finally, they got out. Ryan was the first to spot that their clothes were gone. Just like I figured, they panicked. They put on their shoes and socks and started looking for the rest of their stuff.”
I snickered.
“Yeah,” Wayne agreed, “it was pretty funny and I got about six or seven good pictures. Then, the most incredible thing happened. Mark started accusing Ryan of having taken their clothes. Of course, Ryan denied it… Geez, Mark is so stupid! How could Ryan have taken them when they were together the whole time? Anyway, Mark started threatening Ryan and saying that he had better tell him where their clothes were. Ryan called him a jerk and Mark snapped. He jumped on Ryan and knocked him down. I got some great pictures of them wrestling and rolling on the ground.”
I snickered again. Now I understood his enthusiasm. Telling people that I wore diapers wouldn’t be nearly as bad as having people see pictures of Mark wresting naked in the woods with another guy.
“They didn’t catch you taking their pictures?” I asked.
“Not until I stood up and showed myself.”
“Why did you do that?” I exclaimed.
“All of a sudden, I thought that it would be good to a have a picture of them looking straight at the camera. So I stood up and called down to them real sarcastic-like, ‘Boys, how about a big smile for the camera?’”
At this point, Wayne undid the bib of his overalls and pulled up his shirt. He took out an envelope and handed it to me. The top picture was the one he had just talked about. Ryan and Mark had surprised looks on their faces. Mark was on top of Ryan, holding his arms down. There wasn’t the slightest doubt that they were wearing only their shoes and socks. The others also left no doubt that they were in the woods lying on top of each other, naked. It struck me that it wasn’t even obvious that they were wrestling. They could have been doing something even more naughty.
“Weren’t you afraid they might catch you?” I asked.
“Naw,” he said dismissively. “I was halfway up the hill. By the time they started chasing me, I was already out of the woods and heading for the road. But they sure were cursing up a storm!”
“What did you do with their clothes?”
Wayne snickered again.
“Obviously, I didn’t want Mark and Ryan to find them right away. So, after I snatched them I put them right in the middle of the trail that leads back to the road. They must have found them when they ran after me.”
“Now what?” I asked enthusiastically.
“Do you want to go to the movies today?”
“I meant what are you going to do next about Ryan and Mark.”
“I know,” Wayne answered. “Mark is going to be at the movies today.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I called him up and asked him to meet me there. Do you want to come?”
I was totally blown away that he was doing this for me. How could I refuse?
“Sure, if I can,” I answered. “Let me find out.”
My parents were thrilled that Wayne had come to see me and was asking me to go to the movies with him. I don’t think they would have been happy to know what we were going to do once we got there. But what exactly were we going to do?
I needed to be changed into a fresh diaper before we could leave. I toyed with the idea of letting Wayne stay and watch but I didn’t think my mom would allow it.
The day was overcast and it looked like rain might start falling any minute. Dad drove Wayne and me to the movies. Wayne headed for a small park right next to the theater.
“Mark knows that I’m bringing the pictures with me. The deal is simple: he keeps quiet about your diapers and we keep quiet about these pictures,” he explained. “Mark will probably start out being a real jerk but once he sees these pictures… well, even he’s smart enough to know that we have lots of power over him.”
I was more than a little scared as we waited. A few minutes later, Ryan arrived with Mark.
“I’m going to kick your ass!” Mark hissed. “Both of you!” he added for emphasis.
“I don’t think so,” Wayne countered, waving the envelope at him.
Mark snatched it and two of the pictures went flying through the air.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” Wayne calmly advised.
Ryan bent down to pick them up. He focused on the first one and let out a little squeal. He turned white. His hands were shaking violently as he straightened out.
“What do you want?” he asked in a quavering voice.
Mark had pulled the remaining pictures out of the envelope and was quickly going through them. He didn’t look very cocky anymore.
“I already told Mark,” Wayne answered. “You guys don’t tell anyone about Danny’s diaper needs and we won’t show anyone the pictures. That’s all.”
“Deal,” Ryan agreed.
“Not so fast,” Mark interrupted. “Under one condition only.”
“What’s that?” Wayne asked warily.
“You give us back the clothes you stole yesterday.”
“I didn’t steal your clothes,” Wayne said. “I left them right in the middle of the path, near where it comes out of the woods.” Then, pausing for a second, he added, “You mean you didn’t find them when you chased me?”
“We were afraid to get too close to the clearing—in case someone else was coming,” Ryan explained. “We looked everywhere around where you were hiding. We couldn’t find them.”
“Then how did you…?” I began to ask.
“Just shut up,” Mark answered heatedly. “You ever say anything about any of this and I’ll make you pay like you can’t imagine.”
He and Ryan retreated down the street. Wayne and I bought our tickets for the show. I was still curious.
“How did they get home? Did they have to walk down the road?” I asked in a concerned voice.
“Save your sympathy,” Wayne chuckled. “There’s a path that leads from the other side of the pond practically to Mark’s backyard. It’s twice as long as taking the road but it’s more private.” He chuckled again.
I was still concerned about one thing.
“Mark knows that those pictures were just copies, right?”
“Yeah, he knows. He’s not that stupid. But, just in case, when I called him yesterday I told him that I would let him see copies of some of the pictures.”
“You mean you have more?” I asked.
“No, but Mark doesn’t know that,” he answered smugly.
To quote my dad, I felt like I had dodged a bullet—maybe even a whole army’s worth of bullets. I was so happy I wanted to scream. Wayne and I were going to be friends!
Part Three
The Fourth of July was fantastic. We spent the day with the Montegos. I also got to meet lots of the kids I would be going to school with next year. At the town barbecue, the kids played a baseball game against their parents. I was glad that I got two hits and batted in one run, even though none of us could be in the game more than three innings (to give everybody a chance to play).
Mark and Ryan were at the picnic, too, but they stayed clear of us. Mark had a sour expression on his face whenever I looked his way; Ryan seemed more scared than anything else. I actually felt sorry for him. I know how terrible it is to live in fear of someone humiliating you publicly. If I had been Ryan, I would have been more worried about Mark than Wayne and me. He probably knew all too well that his cousin (I found this out at the picnic—Mark’s dad and Ryan’s mom were brother and sister) was known for unpredictable behavior—and that he wasn’t very bright.
A couple of days later, I asked mom and dad for something totally unimaginable a few months earlier: permission for a sleepover with Wayne. Even before Ryan told Wayne about my diapers, he had wanted me to go over to spend a night at his house. I originally told him that my parents wouldn’t allow it. Now that he had proven his loyalty to me I couldn’t see any reason to refuse.
“Are you sure that you won’t get upset if Wayne makes a comment, even a joking one, about your diapers?”
“He won’t do that, I’m sure,” I answered confidently. “He already promised that he wouldn’t.”
So, the sleepover was arranged for the following night. I would arrive in time for dinner and then we would watch movies and play video games. The next day, Wayne and I were going to go on a special hike he had been saving for just such an occasion. We would leave in the morning and not come back until dinnertime. My mom was a little apprehensive about the hike but the Montegos assured her that it was safe and that everything would be OK.
I walked over to Wayne’s house with my overnight bag. Basically, it contained my toothbrush, a clean shirt, six daytime diapers and plastic pants, and two nighttime diapers and the larger plastic pants they required. I knew that I was way oversupplied on diapers but I was horrified at the thought of leaking while I was the Montegos.
Once again, Mrs. Montego proved what a great cook she was. We had fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole. I offered to help clean up after dinner (like my mom told me to do) but Mrs. Montego sent us off to do whatever we wanted. We went outdoors and threw a baseball around for about a half hour. We went back into the house.
“I want you guys to get ready for bed, now” Mrs. Montego ordered.
“Mom, it’s not even dark,” Wayne complained.
“I didn’t say ‘go to bed,’” Mrs. Montego explained. “I want you to ‘get ready’ for bed. You know that dad has to get up early and he doesn’t like a lot of noise after he’s gone to bed.”
This was the moment I was dreading, even though Wayne and I had already talked about it. In the summertime I slept in just my diapers and plastic pants. He had promised that he wouldn’t laugh but I was still nervous about how he would react when he saw me.
“Your mom says that she usually helps you get ready at night,” Mrs. Montego said to me. “Would you like me to help you tonight?”
Her question caught me by surprise. How much had my mother told her? The truth is that I like the attention that my nighttime diapers get me. I occasionally complain that my parents are treating me like a baby but I think they know how I really feel.
“Wayne, since dad is going to do your chores for you tomorrow morning, why don’t you check the yard and the barn to make sure everything is OK? It’s the least you could do.”
Wayne left and Mrs. Montego and I were alone.
“Let’s go up to Wayne’s room and get you ready.”
I followed behind, wondering how much help she was going to give me. We got into Wayne’s room and she asked me to get my things out. I laid them on the bed and turned around. She immediately undid the bib and side buttons of my overalls and I stepped out of them. I reached for my t-shirt but she gently pushed my hands away and lifted it over my head. I was acutely aware of my wet diapers pressing heavily against my plastic pants. She lowered my pants to just above my knees and undid the two lower pins on each side. The aroma of pee filled the room. She pulled my pants up most of the way up and undid the remaining pin on each side. She picked up the terrycloth I had laid on the bed.
“I’ll wet the towel while you put your diaper and plastic pants away,” she directed.
I stepped out of them and sealed them in my diaper carrier. I heard the water run in the bathroom and Mrs. Montego returned a few seconds later. My excitement was becoming hard to conceal. Mrs. Montego had a very gentle touch. My diaper area was cleaned in just a few seconds. She spread out my thick diaper on the bed.
“Ready?” she asked.
I jumped up onto the diaper and laid back. She powdered my front and then my bottom. It was getting more and more difficult for me to hide how much I was enjoying my treatment. After a final adjustment, she began pinning me into the diaper. She was pulling my plastic pants up when Wayne came walking into the room.
“Mmmm,” he said, “that smells nice. I love the smell of powder.”
I got up and Mrs. Montego checked the fit of my plastic pants over the diaper. Wayne undressed down to his boxers. Like me, he hadn’t removed his shoes.
“It’s still hot in the house. Let’s go sit on the porch for a while before we turn the movie on,” he suggested.
The mere suggestion was almost enough to make me faint.
“Outside? Like this?” I squeaked.
“Wayne, don’t push it,” his mom said.
“OK. But it’s not like we’re going to walk down the road in our underwear. I only meant that we could sit on the back porch and watch the sunset.”
“Oh,” I said. “I guess that would be alright.”
“In that case,” Mrs. Montego added, “make sure you put on insect repellent. The mosquitoes will be biting soon.”
I couldn’t believe that I had agreed to go outside in my plastic pants and diaper. Did I really want to do this? I didn’t think so but I meekly followed Wayne down the stairs and out the back door. There was about an hour of daylight left. We sat down on the steps for a couple of minutes.
“This is boring,” Wayne said. “Let’s go to the pond and skip stones across it.”
“Now?” I exclaimed.
Wayne knew that I was talking about the way we were dressed and not the time of day.
“It’ll be alright. All the workers have gone home. Come on. It’ll be more fun than just sitting here.”
The pond was on the other side of the fields behind the house. There was a dirt service road that ran to it; in all, it was maybe six hundred yards away.
“Well, OK,” I said, “maybe for a little while.”
Every little crunch of gravel or animal noise made me jump. We were surrounded by pastureland. There wasn’t a bush or rock within one hundred yards to hide behind.
“You’ve never been outside in just your diaper and plastic pants before, have you?”
“No, of course not,” I said snappishly. Then, softening my voice, I added, “I mean, I’ve seen pictures of me as a baby playing in diapers in the back yard of our old house.”
“Don’t be so nervous. There’s nobody else around. And I swear I’ll never tell anyone about your diapers. And, besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong.”
I guess he just didn’t understand how I felt. After all the years of being taunted over my diapers I was terrified of starting that all over again. I was grateful to him for what he did about shutting up Mark and Ryan but that kind of thing could start over at any time.
Nonetheless, it actually was fun competing to see who could find the best rocks and make them skip the most. I was so caught up in it that I forgot what I was wearing. I was also surprised when we got back to his house to see how much I had wet the diaper. I would have to remember to change into a dry one before I went to bed. We watched our movie for a little while but we were too tired to finish it.
“Sorry,” Wayne apologized, “but I’m really tired. Can we finish this some other time?”
I agreed and we went up to his room. His parents were already asleep.
“I have to change my diaper,” I announced.
“OK,” he said, “what can I do to help?”
This answer completely threw me. I was expecting him to give me some privacy. However, he did seem sincere. I took my supplies out of my diaper bag and laid them on the bed.
“Could you wet this with warm water?” I asked as I handed him a small towel.
I began unpinning my diaper. He returned before I had finished. I took a deep breath and pushed the diaper and plastic pants down my legs. The aroma of pee filled the room. I felt myself blushing. As quickly as I could, I put the diaper and plastic pants into the bag with the other used set. I took the cloth and began cleaning my diaper area. I added the cloth to the other dirty items and zipped up the bag. It was funny, but I was more concerned about sealing up the pee smell than I was about Wayne seeing me naked. I laid the diaper out on the bed and positioned myself on it. I pulled the diaper up between my legs and realized that I hadn’t powdered myself. Wayne followed my gaze and handed me the baby powder. I sprinkled some on my front and hesitated. How would I do my back side?
“Can I help?” he asked.
I hesitated for a second.
“OK,” I answered, “I’ll roll over and you can sprinkle some on me.”
The powder felt cool and I jumped when he began spreading it around.
I rolled back over and pulled the material up between my legs. I pinned the top of the right side and then pulled the material snugly to pin the top left side. I lost my grip as I reached for the second pin. I tried it again, and failed.
“Need more help?” Wayne asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered. “I can’t hold the material together and put the pin in at the same time. I’ll hold and you stick the pin through.”
We tried a couple of times without success.
“I can’t get the pin through the material. I’m afraid I’ll stick you,” Wayne said. “Maybe I should hold the diaper and you can pin it when it’s tight enough.”
I agreed. It’s a good thing that my night diapers are so thick. The rubbing of his fingers against my stomach and legs was getting me excited. By the time last of the pins was in place I was very hard. I noticed that his boxers were tented out, too.
*****
I woke up in the middle of the night. The temperature had dropped dramatically and the wind was snapping the curtains. A thunderstorm was on the way. Within ten minutes, Wayne was awake, too. The rain was coming down in heavy windblown sheets and thunder rumbled loudly with each lightning bolt. We shut the windows in his room and he suggested we check the rest of the house. Now that we were awake, we didn’t feel like going back to sleep. We sat on his bedroom floor.
“Are you sorry that you moved to the country?” Wayne asked.
The question kind of surprised me until it occurred to me that I had never told Wayne about all the hassles I had been subjected to because of my diapers, not even after Ryan revealed my diaper wearing status.
“No,” I answered, “I hated my life before I came here.
I started telling him about all the taunting and misery that I had suffered. It proved to be more difficult that I had expected. About halfway through, my voice choked and tears started escaping from my eyes. Wayne moved close to me and put his arm around my shoulder.
“Don’t worry. That’ll never happen again. Together, we’ll beat anybody who tries it. That’s what friends are for. Right?”
“Right,” I agreed, smiling through my tears.
It rained all the next day so we didn’t go on our hike. Instead, we finished the movie we had started and watched TV for the rest of the day. Mrs. Montego helped me with three diaper changes before I went home. I couldn’t believe how much I enjoyed Mrs. Montego and Wayne’s help.
The weather cleared two days later and our hike was rescheduled. This time it would be preceded by a sleepover at my house. This was a first for me so I was nervous about doing it right. I thought about what movies we might watch, what video and computer games to play. I bugged my parents about having the right snacks and sodas on hand. Generally, I was making myself a pretty big nuisance.
“Danny,” my mom eventually said, “stop worrying. Wayne likes you as a friend. He won’t judge you over little things. Relax. You’ll enjoy your time together much better.”
Wayne showed up in time for dinner. I knew that he liked lasagna so I asked my dad to make some. (My mom hates to cook but, luckily, my dad loves it.) After dinner I suggested that we could watch one of the movies I had selected or we could play games on my computer. Wayne picked out one of the movies.
“Maybe we should get ready for bed now,” he suggested. “That way if we get tired like we did at my house, we can go straight to sleep.”
“But it’s only eight o’clock,” I protested.
“Whatever,” Wayne responded, shrugging his shoulders.
“I think that’s a very good idea,” my mom interjected. “Come on, Danny. I’ll help you.”
Except for that one time at Wayne’s house, I had ever been put into my nighttime diapers so early. I told him that I felt kind of weird going downstairs in just my diaper and plastic pants.
“Oh, sorry,” he apologized. “At home, I go around in my underwear all the time. I guess I thought everybody did.”
I suppose that was the difference between us. For him underwear was just underwear; for me, underwear meant diapers and plastic pants—and that was a curse no matter how I looked at it.
After the movie was over we went up to my room.
“Have you ever wished for something that you were sure you could never get?” Wayne suddenly asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered.
“I used to wish for a twin brother,” Wayne continued. “I imagined what it would be like to do things together, you know, like we do now.”
There was a pause. I didn’t exactly know how to respond. Did he just pay me a compliment?
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s fun doing stuff together.”
“Do you really mean that?” he asked.
“Sure, I like doing stuff with you,” I answered with a smile.
“Me too. I’m glad we’re finally going to do our hike tomorrow.”
There was another pause.
“How about you?” Wayne pressed. “Did you ever wish for something that you knew you couldn’t have?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered vaguely.
“What was it?”
“It’s kind of stupid,” I said uncertainly.
Wayne just looked at me, patiently waiting.
“Well,” I admitted, “I always wanted to meet someone my age who had to wear diapers. You know, so we could compare notes and talk about what it felt like. Stupid stuff like that.”
“That doesn’t sound stupid to me. It’s important to feel like other people understand you.”
Another pause.
“Could I try to be that kind of a friend for you?”
My heart started thumping against my chest. Did Wayne just say what I thought he said?
“How? You don’t wear diapers,” I pointed out.
“That’s true… but I could. Like maybe I could sometimes wear them at night to find out what that felt like, or under my clothes in public.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. What if someone caught you? It would be terribly embarrassing. Take it from me. I know.”
“So, you’re saying that you don’t want us to become even better friends?”
“No, of course not,” I insisted.
“Then what’s stopping you from saying ‘yes’?”
“Nothing, I guess. But don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”
I laid out a nighttime diaper and plastic pants on the bed. Wayne took off his boxers and waited. He seemed totally unconcerned that I could see that he was terribly excited. I was thankful that my thick diaper hid my excitement.
“Lay down on your stomach so I can powder your bottom first,” I said pointing to the diaper.
“It feels kind of cold,” he observed.
“OK, now turn over so I can do your front.”
“I really love the smell of baby powder,” he observed. (I remembered that he said the same thing at his house right after his mom had diapered me for the night.)
I continued working silently, pulling the diaper up between his legs and pinning it on. I discovered that it was easier to pin a diaper on someone else than it is to pin it on yourself.
“Hold your stomach in so I can make sure that the diaper is on tight,” I directed.
In answer to his question I explained that a loose fitting diaper could slide off when it got wet. He and I both giggled as we imagined what that would look like.
“OK. Stand up and put your plastic pants on. I’ll check them to make sure that your diaper is completely covered.”
“Gee,” he observed, “this feels way different from what I thought it would be like.”
“You hate it. You want to take it off. Right?” I asked sadly.
“No,” he responded, “I don’t mean that. It’s just different. It just feels funny to have my underwear ride up so high over my stomach. But, that’s OK,” he added hurriedly. “I actually kind of like it—it feels so soft and snuggly-like. Sort of like…”
Wayne and I froze. There was a knock at the door. We both stared at it, hoping that it didn’t open.
“OK, boys. Lights out. Time to go to bed,” my dad said.
“OK,” I answered.
Wayne and I held our breath until we heard my dad walk away.
“That was close,” I said.
“Yeah,” Wayne agreed. “I’ll tell you one thing. I think I just learned how scared you feel when you think someone might discover that you wear diapers.”
“Are you sure you want to go on with this?” I asked seriously.
“Absolutely,” he said with a smile.
Wayne and I lay down on my queen-sized bed. (My bedroom furniture is actually my parents’ furniture from when they got married.) I turned out the light. I giggled.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“”I never thought that I hear somebody else’s plastic pants crinkling as they got into bed,” I whispered.
“Yeah, it is kind of cool, huh?”
We didn’t say anything after that. I was surprised that Wayne fell asleep so fast. My mind was racing a million miles an hour. For instance, why did Wayne say that the crinkling of his plastic pants was ‘cool’?
****
The next morning Wayne was awake before me.
“Hi,” I said as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.
“Hi,” he answered giggling.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
I tried to discreetly feel the bottom sheet near me. My plastic pants didn’t usually leak and I sure hoped that he wasn’t laughing at a wet spot under me. I was relieved when I didn’t find any wetness.
“Remember last night when I said I wished I had a twin brother?”
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Well, we’re sort of twin brothers now, aren’t we? I mean, we’re both wearing wet diapers, for example.
“Yeah, I guess, so.”
I was feeling embarrassed about him seeing the evidence that I couldn’t stay dry at night. Then, the full implication of what he said struck me.
“Did you say that we’re both in wet diapers? I don’t believe it,” I said in amazement.
“Well, I am. See?”
He got into a kneeling position on the bed and proudly showed off his sagging diaper and plastic pants. His diaper was soaked. I began laughing, too. It was unbelievable to me that someone could actually be proud of having wet a diaper.
“Can we keep on being twins today? Can I wear diapers on the hike?” he practically begged.
I was speechless. It took me a few seconds to answer.
“Uh, …OK. If that’s what you want.”
“Cool,” he exclaimed. “Let’s get ready.”
As I was diapering him, I noticed that Wayne was just as excited as last night. Frankly, so was I.
By mid-morning, we headed off to our hike. In our backpacks, each of us had our supplies: lunch, a mid-afternoon snack, a large bottle of water, and two changes of diapers and plastic pants. We walked north along the road for about a mile. When we came to a creek we veered off and followed the path that rang along it.
Wayne was unusually chatty. I thought it was because he was happy to be going on the hike that had been postponed because of the rain. The further we went, though, the more I saw evidence that something else was causing his good mood. He frequently rubbed his hands against his overalls. Originally, I thought that he must have gotten something sticky on his hands that he was trying to wipe off. The real reason eventually dawned on me—he was rubbing his pants so that he could feel the diaper and plastic pants underneath. Every time he did it, he smiled to himself or giggled a little bit. I didn’t know what to make of it. I had spent a lifetime hating my diapers and he was apparently enjoying them. I had to ask him what was going on.
“Wayne, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, sure. What?”
“Do you like wearing my diapers and plastic pants?”
“What makes you say that?” he asked sheepishly.
“Well, you keep rubbing your pants and smiling,” I answered honestly.
He blushed but still continued to smile.
“Is it that obvious?” he asked.
“You mean, you really do?” I asked in surprise. “Why?”
“I don’t know. …It was fun lying in bed last night and wetting the diaper without having to get up.”
“Oh… Well, yeah, I guess I can understand that,” I said.
Actually, he had hit upon the only thing I ever thought was good about wearing diapers. Being able to wet your diaper in the middle of the night was a lot better than having to get up and go to the bathroom, especially on a cold winter night. Something in my face must have told him what I was thinking.
“So you like it, too, huh?”
It was my turn to blush. “Well, on cold nights it’s kind of nice not to have to get up,” I admitted.
As we continued to follow the creek, the climb became more and more steep. Wayne had kept the exact route of the hike secret from me saying that he wanted it to be a surprise. The creek was running faster up here and it was getting difficult to carry on a conversation. We walked in silence for maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. We leveled off and I had a chance to catch my breath.
“How much more do we have to climb?” I asked.
“We’re almost there,” he answered, “maybe another five minutes.”
I was getting tired… and I had wet my diaper rather heavily a couple of times. I needed a change pretty soon. I began hearing the sound of rushing water again. I dreaded having to go up another hill. The trail took a sharp turn.
“Look,” Wayne said triumphantly.
I was stunned to see a stupendous fifty-foot waterfall cascading down a cliff into a large pond.
“Wow! This is really neat,” I exclaimed.
We continued walking to a point where a clearing allowed us to approach the edge of the pond.
“Do you want to eat lunch soon?” he asked.
“Yes,” I wholeheartedly agreed.
“How’s your diaper?” he continued.
I shyly admitted that I could use a change. He, on the other hand, expressed no similar shyness and almost seemed proud to announce that his diaper was soaked.
“The ground is kind of squishy here. This isn’t a good place to lie down,” I observed.
“We only stopped here so you could get a good look at the waterfall and the pond. There’s a much better place where we can change our diapers and eat lunch.”
We got back on the trail and in about a hundred yards left it again. We climbed up onto some flat rocks.
“See,” Wayne said, “it’s nice and sunny and dry up here. There’s plenty of room for us to eat and to change our diapers. Which should we do first?”
We agreed to eat lunch first. This is why I was surprised when Wayne began taking off his overalls and shirt.
“I thought we were going to eat first,” I said.
“We are,” he answered. “I just want to take advantage of the sun. You should, too. It feels really neat to lie against the warm rock.”
“But what if somebody sees us?” I objected. “Besides, I burn easily.”
I hoped that this last excuse would end the discussion.
“There’s nobody here but us. We didn’t see anybody else all the way up, did we?
I had to admit that he was right.
“And, I’ve got some sun screen. Come on, just do it. You’ll be glad you did.”
I could feel my resistance breaking down. I didn’t want him to think that I was chicken. I nervously took off my overalls and shirt while he was rubbing sunscreen over his face and body.
“Here,” he said throwing the bottle toward me.
After we had finished putting sunscreen on each other’s backs I wondered how we would clean our hands off. I didn’t want to eat my sandwich with greasy hands.
“We can rinse them off in the pond,” Wayne suggested.
This meant walking back the hundred yards to where he had first shown me the waterfall. I was more than a little nervous about leaving my clothes behind. But, once again, I felt myself letting go of my inhibitions. As I followed behind him on our way back, I wondered if my bottom was as rounded as his.
We ate quickly and without a lot of discussion. The pond and the waterfall held our attention. After finishing my lunch, I leaned back against the rock and enjoyed the warmth of the day. I thought about Wayne and me. I was overwhelmed by his friendship. Not only had he saved me from Ryan and Mark but he had also volunteered to wear diapers so that I could pretend that I had a friend who needed diapers just like me. I must have dozed off because the next thing I remember Wayne was spreading a diaper out on the rocks.
“I really need a change,” he said self-consciously.
I jumped up and helped him out of his soaking diaper (even wetter than mine!). I began by wiping his diaper area with one of the towels we had pre-moistened before we left.
“That’s cold!” he said jumping as the towel made contact with him.
I giggled and told him it couldn’t be helped—unless he’d like to find out what diaper rash felt like.
“Have you ever had diaper rash?” he asked seriously.
“A couple of times—during the summer,” I answered. “It’s not fun.
It was my turn to be changed. He was very gentle and, like me, didn’t make any reference to how excited I was. I made to get up after he finished pinning my fresh diaper.
“No,” he said eagerly, “let me put your plastic pants on.”
It felt kind of funny but nice, too. I was beginning to like this idea of having a diaper buddy. Too bad it would only last for today.
“Now what? I asked.
“Do you want to go to the top of the waterfall?” he asked.
“Sure,” I answered excitedly.
I reached for my shirt and pants.
“No,” he said, “We don’t need shirts and pants. Let’s go like this.”
“Like this?” I asked with a quavering voice.
I was still traumatized about the treatment I usually received because of my diapers.
“But somebody might see us!” I continued.
“I’ve been here lots of times. I’ve never met anyone else… besides, practically nobody knows about this place.”
I still wasn’t convinced.
“Please,” he begged, “let’s have an adventure together. Let’s do something daring that only you and I will know about.”
The way he said it was almost like he knew my inner fantasies. Not that I wanted to walk around the woods in my diaper and plastic pants, but that I had often wished to have a friend to do fantastic things with. Well, I guess that this was about as fantastic as I could imagine.
“OK,” I said grudgingly, “but we’d better not get caught.”
Before leaving the rocks we gathered up our clothes and stuffed them into our backpacks. Wayne suggested that we hide them in the undergrowth at a fork in the trail. We would take the right fork to the waterfall and the left fork looped around and would take us home.
The trip up to the waterfall was worth it. From there we could see large areas of the valley below.
“Over there is Sievert and our houses are lower down, hidden just behind those woods,” Wayne explained.
We were even able to walk right up to the edge of the cliff where the waterfall dropped down into the pond. I was amazed at how much water there was.
“We’d better get back,” Wayne announced.
We retrieved our backpacks and I began unzipping mine to take out my overalls and shirt.
“It’s kind of hot,” Wayne said. “Do you really want to put on your shirt and pants?”
“I guess not,” I heard myself answer.
Actually, I was beginning to like the freedom of walking around openly in my diapers, particularly with Wayne wearing them, too. I never thought that I would do something so daring. However, that didn’t stop me from silently praying that no one would catch us.
The walk back was easier since we were heading downhill most of the way. It only took us a half-hour to reach the edge of the woods. I stopped as Wayne continued walking out into the open.
“Aren’t we putting our pants back on?” I asked nervously.
“We’re still nowhere near the road. This is just a little clearing. The trail leads us back in to the woods over there.”
I shrugged my shoulders and dove in, so to speak. The clearing was about three hundred yards wide. The sun felt nice against my arms and legs. We reentered the woods and walked another twenty minutes before I heard the noise of a passing car.
“We’re near the road,” I said. “Shouldn’t we get dressed now?”
“This isn’t ‘our’ road,” he answered. “This is an unpaved county road that some people use as a shortcut. Practically nobody uses it.”
“Well,” I answered defensively, “somebody just did.”
“OK, I’ll go first and check out the traffic… not that there’s going to be any.”
I was satisfied with this arrangement. Wayne exited the woods and walked the fifteen or so feet to the road. He made an exaggerated motion of searching for traffic, sort of like he was looking down from the top of a mountain across a huge expanse of territory.
“The coast is clear,” he said with a smug look on his face.
I exited the woods and joined him on the road. He was right. It was practically no bigger than the trail we had been following all day. I sort of felt silly that I hadn’t trusted him.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ve still go about an hour before we get home.”
We finally reached ‘our’ road. We stopped to get dressed.
“I’m not going to wear a shirt,” Wayne announced. “It’s too hot.”
“Good idea,” I agreed.
We put on our overalls and I was aghast at what I saw. Our plastic pants rose two to three inches higher than the sides of our overalls.
“We’ll have to put shirts on,” I observed.
“Why?” Wayne retorted. “Cars driving by won’t notice our plastic pants.”
“What if we meet somebody walking on the road?”
“We don’t have to stop to talk to them. We can just say ‘hi’ and keep moving.”
Alarm bells were ringing like crazy inside my head. I decided to wear my shirt. We were almost home when we ran into an older couple. I didn’t know who they were. I hoped that Wayne didn’t either.
“Hello, boys,” the lady said in a friendly manner.
“Hi,” I answered.
“Hello Mrs. Campbell… Mr. Campbell.” Wayne answered.
These were the people who lived in the house up the road from mine. I hadn’t met them yet but Wayne obviously knew them.
“This is Danny Eversby,” Wayne continued.
“Pleased to meet you, Danny.” Mr. Campbell said.
I looked over to Wayne and was dismayed to see that he was doing nothing to hide his diaper and plastic pants.
“Did you boys go for a swim?” Mrs. Campbell enquired.
“No, ma’am,” Wayne answered. “We took a hike up to the waterfall.”
“Well, that was quite ambitious, I must say,” she commented.
Her husband chuckled. “I’m sure that for these boys it was nothing. They’re not old and decrepit like us.”
Mrs. Campbell returned the chuckle and added, “Watch out who you’re calling decrepit.”
They both chuckled again. My discomfort was growing. I wanted to get going but nobody was moving. (This is one thing I had already noticed about the people here: they were not generally in a rush like people in the city.)
“Oh, I just thought of something,” Mrs. Campbell said. “Wayne, would you ask your mom to call me to let me know when she’s going to be home? I would like to deliver some preserves and other things to her.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.”
“Thank you,” she responded. “We don’t want to hold you up any more. You boys are probably anxious to get home. Have a nice day.”
Once we were out of earshot I let Wayne have it.
“How come you didn’t try to hide your plastic pants? You know that they probably them, don’t you?”
“What could I do about it? I couldn’t just walk past them without stopping. Besides, they’re nice people; they’re not going to tell anyone.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence. By the time we reached my driveway I had cooled down. I guess no harm was done. After all, they saw him wearing them not me.
“See you tomorrow?” Wayne asked.
“Yeah, sure. Tomorrow.” I answered.
As I walked into the house I remembered something. Wayne went home with three of my diapers and he hadn’t put his shirt on yet. I hoped that he would remember before his parents saw him. I didn’t want to get into trouble for giving him diapers to wear.
The next morning when he came over to my house I asked him why he brought his backpack with him. He gave me a funny look.
“O-o-o-h!” I eventually figured out, “you brought my diapers back.”
He opened the bag and gave me three wet diapers and plastic pants.
“You used all three?” I asked somewhat surprised.
He blushed and admitted that he had worn the last set to bed last night.
Luckily, my parents were leaving in a little while to go on a sales call. My sister, Kayla, was going with them to visit some friends from our old neighborhood. That would give me time to wash the diapers without my mom or dad noticing how many wet ones there were. My mom had already commented that I seemed to be wearing more diapers since we had come to the country (especially since I wasn’t wearing my diaper pants any more) but I think she would have noticed that there were way too many for me to have used in just one day.
After the diapers were in the washer I began to hand wash the plastic pants.
“How come you don’t wash them in the machine?” Wayne asked.
“Because they’d fall apart,” I answered.
Wayne even helped me hang my plastic pants on the drying rack in my bathroom.
“What do you want to do for the rest of the morning?” he asked. (We were supposed to go to his house later on for lunch.)
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?” I answered.
He paused a few seconds, a shy smile on his lips.
“Do you want a twin brother again today?”
I was hoping he would ask to wear diapers again. It had felt good yesterday when he and I had shared our secret, hiking in just our diapers and plastic pants.
“Sure,” I answered willingly.
He took off his shirt and pants, and giggled when he noticed that I was doing the same. I laid out my changing pad and spread out a diaper on it. He took off his underwear and positioned himself. I generously powdered him and pulled the thick material between his legs. After using two pins on each side he was nice and snug. He lifted up his bottom as I slid the plastic pants up his legs. From start to finish, there was no doubt how excited he was about wearing diapers. He would probably see my excitement the next time I needed a change.
I was surprised by how much I was enjoying scampering around the house in just diapers and plastic pants. It was as if I had erased all the effects of the anguish and embarrassment I had suffered at the hands of my former ‘friends.’ Wayne was totally different—he was scampering around with me. It was unreal and so much fun!
Eventually, we wound up back in my room lying across from each other on the floor. There was a prolonged silence.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said.
“Sure,” Wayne answered.
“Didn’t you feel weird you feel weird yesterday when the Campbells caught you wearing diapers?”
There was a long pause and I was afraid that I had embarrassed him. I was on verge of apologizing when he finally spoke.
“I’m sorry I caused you to feel weird in front of the Campbells.”
“Thanks,” I responded, “but I’m not mad about that anymore. I just want to know if you felt weird about it.”
Again, he avoided answering me.
“I hope you won’t get mad at me, but I think that you would be happier it you just told people about your diapers. It you just explained that you needed them, most people wouldn’t care and would forget about it.”
“But what about those who wouldn’t?” I protested.
“Only jerks would do that. Why should you care about them?” he responded.
I didn’t agree, but I didn’t want to argue with him either. Instead, I changed the subject.
“We’d better get my diapers out of the washer.”
After we transferred my stuff into the dryer Wayne asked if I felt like doing anything. I was kind of bored so I suggested we throw my football around for a while. Wayne agreed and headed for the back door. I followed him outside. He threw me a sideways smile. I blushed.
“So, you’re not going to complain about going outside in just your diaper and plastic pants?” he teased.
I blushed deeper at the fact that he knew that I actually wanted us to go outside in our diapers and plastic pants. I couldn’t help myself. I had never felt so free in all my life. If only it was possible to tell others…
Wayne and I threw the ball to each other for a while. Suddenly, he stopped.
“Come on. Throw the ball,” I called out.
“You want it; you come and get it,” he challenged.
I started chasing after him around the yard. I couldn’t corner him because the yard was so big. I decided to try a trick.
“Hey, watch out for my mom’s flowers!” I shouted (even though he wasn’t anywhere near any of them).
He hesitated just long enough for me to catch up to him. I tackled him and we both hit the ground. The ball bounced out of his hands and we each scrambled for it while trying to keep the other away. We were too involved in the struggle to notice that Wayne’s mother had come around the corner of the house.
“Well, I see that Mrs. Campbell wasn’t making a mistake.” she said flatly.
We both yelped at the sound of her voice. I was bent over Wayne and he was pushing me back with his knees. Our diapers and plastic pants were unmistakable. She wasn’t surprised at how I was dressed, of course, since she had seen me in diapers at the sleepover. It was Wayne who was on the hot seat.
We got up slowly. Wayne had turned white and his hands and knees were shaking.
“I wanted to see what it was like,” he explained.
“I can see that,” she answered. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, I’ve been waiting for over half an hour to give you lunch.” Turning to me, she added, “As soon as you lock up your house, we’ll go”
I knew that the front door was locked so I only had to shut the back door. As soon as I did it, I remembered that Wayne’s and my clothes were inside… and that I didn’t have a key to get back in. I turned to explain the situation but Wayne and his mom had already left. I followed them and received another shock—Mrs. Montego’s car wasn’t in the driveway. We’d have to walk down the road to their house.
Wayne and I looked at each other with real fear. My hands and knees were shaking, too. We made our wobbly way up the driveway and hesitated.
“Come on. Don’t dawdle,” Mrs. Montego said.
I think she knew exactly what she was doing. She must have decided that this would be our punishment—public exposure in our diapers.
“Sorry about this,” Wayne apologized.
“It’s OK,” I lied.
We started down the road. I heard a car approaching from behind. I tried to remain inconspicuous by not turning around. It drove past without seeming to notice us. Wayne and I breathed a sigh of relief. Another car approached, this time from head on. I saw that it was a convertible being driven by a teenager. Two or three friends were with him. They spotted us because and hooted and howled as they passed. Wayne bolted and didn’t stop until he had turned into his driveway. His mom and I arrived a few seconds later. She didn’t say anything.
We sat down to lunch. The kitchen was empty, since everyone else had finished earlier. Elaine, Wayne’s sister, must have been in her room because I heard loud music coming from upstairs. She hadn’t been around when Wayne and I had had our sleepover and I wasn’t very anxious to have her see me in a wet diaper. I was sure that Wayne was even more nervous about that possibility that me. I hoped that we could finish lunch quickly and then get back to my house. Wayne and I could figure out a way to get inside, I hoped.
“Wayne, while you’re eating, I’m going to tell you a story,” his mom said.
That sounded weird. I wondered what she was doing. I got the feeling that Wayne wasn’t anxious to hear it. Maybe her way of scolding him was by telling stories.
“I’ll try to keep it short,” she continued. “Two years ago, Mr. & Mrs. Campbell’s eleven year old grandson, Billy, was scheduled to visit them for the summer. Like you, Danny, he has suffered from bladder problems all his life. His parents decided to keep him in disposable diapers, which he hated because they frequently leaked, especially at night. To make a long story short, the Campbells decided to surprise him with a complete set of cloth diapers and plastic pants. They were certain that he would prefer them. As it turned out, though, the company that Billy’s dad works for transferred him to England on short notice. The Campbell’s were disappointed that they wouldn’t get their grandson for the summer and that they wouldn’t get a chance to make him feel more comfortable about his problem.”
I was now listening intently to the story. This was the closest I had ever gotten to hearing about a kid my age who had to wear diapers, too.
“So, turning the clock forward,” Mrs. Montego said, “who should they meet yesterday but a boy just about the same age and size as their grandson two years ago. This boy is wearing diapers and plastic pants. Being the kind people that they are, they come to the boy’s mother and tell her how happy they are to be able to finally put their supply of diapers and plastic pants to good use. Of course, the mother doesn’t know anything about her son’s diaper wearing and is somewhat confused. The Campbells think that the mother is embarrassed that they have found out about her son’s need for diapers. Or maybe, the mother doesn’t want the Campbells to think that she needs charity. So, what do the Campbells do? They make it seem like it is the mother who is helping them out—wouldn’t she please take these unneeded diapers off their hands? Well, what could the mother do? She didn’t want to make the Campbells feel bad so she agreed.”
Mrs. Montego stopped talking. Wayne and I finished our lunches.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Wayne’s mom asked.
Wayne didn’t answer. I waited anxiously for him to say something.
“Um, could I tell them that I have enough and that I don’t need more?”
“Too late for that,” she responded. “The stuff is already in your room.”
“Is there a lot?” he asked.
“A whole lot,” she said. “According to the Campbells, there’s a two year’s supply.”
Wayne gulped.
“Could I give them to Danny?” he said, looking my way to see if I approved.
I kept my face neutral.
“Only if you tell the Campbells that that’s what you’re doing,” she said firmly.
“Would they be mad if they found out that I don’t really need them?” Wayne asked.
“I don’t think so,” his mom answered, “but I think they might feel a little foolish.”
“How come?” Wayne wondered.
“Because when they saw you wearing them they jumped to the conclusion that you needed them. They didn’t know that you had gotten them from Danny.”
Wayne paused to think about the situation for a long while. Mrs. Montego and I waited patiently.
“I guess I’d better start writing a thank-you note, shouldn’t I?” he said.
“Alright,” his mom agreed, “but you both get a diaper change first.
We went up to Wayne’s room. We were bowled over by the number of diapers and plastic pants that had been delivered. More than that, the Campbells had also included changing pads, lots of pins and medicated powder, and even a diaper travel bag.
Mrs. Montego changed Wayne first. As she was taking off his wet diaper, I examined one of the new ones. It looked bigger and thicker than what I normally wore. Mrs. Montego noticed what I was doing.
“The Campbells said that they bought slightly oversized diapers so that their grandson wouldn’t grow out of them too quickly.”
She continued changing Wayne.
“This diaper sure is thick,” Wayne observed as his mother started pinning it up. “This isn’t a nighttime diaper, is it?”
“And it goes up a lot higher,” I added.
“No, it’s not a nighttime diaper,” his mother answered. “It’s thicker because it has a special inner core of material to trap wetness, to keep your skin dryer. And, I suppose it rises higher because the Campbells bought them on the ‘big’ side so that Billy could grow into them.”
She was finished with the diaper. Wayne put on his plastic pants. They seemed to crinkle louder than mine.
“OK, you’re next,” Mrs. Montego said.
I was hesitant to wear these new diapers—they were way too big and the plastic pants were way too noisy.
“Um, can I go home to get changed?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “Can you get in? I forgot to ask if you had a key when I told you to lock up the house.”
I was forced to admit that I didn’t.
“In that case, hop up on the bed,” she ordered. “ I don’t want to be responsible for you getting a diaper rash.”
The change didn’t take very long. The new diaper really felt funny. It was even thicker than my nighttime diapers and it came so high over my stomach!
“I feel like a little kid,” Wayne commented. “Your diapers aren’t nearly as big as these.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “you’re really going to have trouble hiding them under your clothes.”
“Oh God, I hadn’t thought of that,” he said in a shaky voice.
“See,” I said, “now you know what it feels like to worry about your friends finding out about your diapers.”
“Speaking of that, I wonder if my dad and Elaine know.”
We went downstairs to find Mrs. Montego. Wayne asked his question.
“Of course they do,” she answered. “We discussed it during lunch.”
Wayne seemed worried about this, especially the part about his dad. Elaine met us on our way back upstairs. She smiled and said hello, but otherwise made no comment.
“I guess your sister isn’t going to give you a hard time about wearing diapers,” I commented.
“Don’t bet it,” he answered. “She probably doesn’t want to embarrass you. She’ll start in on me the second after you leave.”
“Speaking of which, do you think I can borrow some clothes to wear home? I’m pretty sure that I can climb through the downstairs bathroom window to get into the house.”
We went up to his room to find something for us to wear. He volunteered to come with me to try to break into my house. We tried on several pairs of pants before concluding that none would fit. We couldn’t even get them to zip up all the way. Obviously, his parents were going to have to get him new clothes. I was still stuck, though. I wanted to get home to change back into my own clothes (and my own diapers and plastic pants) before my parents got home.
“Would you mind going back to my house dressed this way?”
Wayne considered it for a few seconds and agreed. Mrs. Montego stopped us on the way out and asked where we were going. We said we wanted to throw my football around some more. She told Wayne to make sure to be back by five o’clock. Luckily, the walk over to my house was uneventful. We ran the whole way down the road just to make sure that we weren’t seen again.
Just as I thought, we were inside my house in fewer than five minutes. I shut and locked the bathroom window. (I would have to tall dad about how easy it would be for somebody to break into the house.) We went up to my room. I had originally intended to get back into my own diapers but I changed my mind. I didn’t want Wayne to think I was criticizing his new ones. We played games on my computer until just before five o’clock.
“I have to go home, now,” Wayne announced.
“Yeah, I know,” I answered. “What are you doing tomor…”
We were interrupted by the ringing of the front doorbell. I went across to my parents’ bedroom and looked out the window.
“It’s your sister,” I said.
“Elaine? I wonder what she wants?”
We went downstairs and let her in.
“Your parents just called my house. They’re going to stay in Madison tonight because they didn’t finish all their business today, and Kayla is going to stay with her friend. My mom says you should bring your toothbrush and whatever else you’ll need to spend the night. Oh… she also said not to bring any diapers since Wayne has more than enough.”
She smirked at her brother as she said this. I guess he was right. She was going to give him a hard time about his diapers. Elaine left, telling us to hurry up—dinner was almost ready. Wayne and I went to my room to get my stuff. I tried on some of pants and overalls to see if any would fit over the new diapers. None of them did.
“No sense in bringing pants, huh?” Wanted said.
“I guess not,” I agreed.
We left for Wayne’s house. Once again, I walked out without the key. It was more serious this time since I didn’t have any other ideas on how to get back in without breaking a window. I guess my parents were going to see me in Wayne’s diapers when they got home tomorrow. At least we were lucky that nobody saw us run up the road.
Wayne’s dad was sitting in the den when we got to his house.
“Come in here, son,” he called out.
I excused myself and went up to his room. He came in a few minutes later. He was smiling.
“I guess your dad wasn’t mad at you.”
“No, not really. He definitely thinks that it’s weird that I chose to wear the diapers rather than tell the Campbells that I don’t need them. I told him about us pretending to be twins. I think that he was happy that you and I have become such good friends.”
Wayne’s mom called us down to dinner. She sent us back upstairs to put shirts on. Otherwise, the dinner was pretty normal. I wished that my mom or dad cooked as well as she could.
Around eight o’clock, Mr. Montego helped us get into our nighttime diapers. Boy, did they ever feel gigantic! The Campbell’s grandson must have been some heavy wetter if he needed all this protection. But, we quickly adjusted to them and I even agreed to go down to the pond to skip stones.
*****
Since my parents weren’t scheduled to get back until dinnertime, Wayne and I spent the whole day together. I even helped him get his morning chores done.
“You know,” Wayne said, “I’ve been thinking about my friends. I think that I should have a sleepover soon so that I can tell them about my diapers before school starts.” He paused and then added, “I think you should be here, too.”
“No way!” I exclaimed. “Never! Not gonna happen!”
“Calm down,” he said. “Think about it. Did the kids at your other school find out about your diapers?”
“Yeah, that was the problem,” I admitted.
“How did they find out?”
“I guess somebody saw or heard them under my pants. I don’t remember.”
“Did you ever tell anyone why you wear diapers?”
“No, of course not!”
“Well,” he said smugly, “there you have it.”
“There I have what?” I asked perplexed.
“If you don’t tell people why you have to wear diapers, they’re going to invent all sorts of stories about it. If you honestly tell what’s going on, people will respect you—I’m sure of it.
“I don’t know…,” I said hesitantly. His theory sounded good but I wasn’t ready to try it out.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” he said. “I’ll talk to my parents about the sleepover and you talk to yours. If they think that telling our friends is a bad idea, we won’t do it. Deal?”
“Deal,” I agreed.
My parents and Kayla got back as scheduled. Mr. & Mrs. Montego talked with them for some time before Wayne and I were called downstairs. I guess Wayne’s parents wanted to explain the situation first. Whatever they said must have satisfied my parents because they treated us as if nothing was unusual. However, they did comment on how big our diapers seemed.
“Yes, they are,” Mrs. Montego answered, “but I’ve got to tell you they work marvelously well. The inner core is very good at absorbing wetness and keeping it away from the boys’ skin. I only had to change them once this afternoon.”
“Really?” my mom said with interest. “Perhaps we should investigate getting some for Danny.”
Despite my initial reaction to them, I hoped that my parents would do this. They were very comfortable, even when wet.
Over the course of the next few days Danny had to bug me about talking to my parents about the sleepover. I finally brought it up at dinner one night.
“It sounds like you don’t want to do it,” my dad observed, “but I think that you should reconsider. As you grow older I hope that you will discover that most people will want to give you the benefit of the doubt. If you’re upfront and honest, most people will respect you even if they don’t totally understand.”
“Dad’s right, honey,” my mom added. “Don’t sell other people short. I know that you had a hard time in Madison and that some of it was our fault. Let’s not make the same mistake twice. Telling people is better than trying to hide what they’re going to eventually find out anyhow.”
I still wasn’t convinced but I let Wayne set up the sleepover for the next Friday night. He invited three of his best friends: Sam McDonall, Tim Grievert, and Darin Oladt. Our parents had bought us new pants so we could at least start the evening out without having our diapers exposed. Wayne didn’t wait very long to tell his friends what was going on. We were still waiting for dinner when he revealed the true purpose of the sleepover.
“Guys,” he began, “we have something to tell you. It’s kind of hard and maybe some of you won’t like it but I think we should tell you now so that you can have your parents pick you up if you want to leave.”
His abrupt announcement caused his friends to look at each other in confusion. I decided to jump in ahead of Wayne and get my part over with.
“I’ve only met you guys once at the Fourth of July picnic but I want you to know something about me. It’s something that caused me a lot of trouble at my old school so I want to be honest and open about it with you.” I hesitated, looking for the right words. When I couldn’t find them, I simply blurted it out. “I have bladder problems and have to wear diapers all the time.”
There was a stunned silence. They were all looking at me in surprise. I desperately wanted someone to say something, …anything that would let me know what they thought.
“Gee,” Darin said, “that’s too bad.”
“Yeah,” Sam and Tim agreed, “that sucks.”
“Yeah,” I continued, “At my old school, kids used to call me names and tease me about it all the time.”
“That’s downright mean,” Darin said. “We won’t let that happen here. Right, guys?”
“Right!” they all agreed.
“Thanks,” I said with a lump in my throat. “You guys are the best!”
“Um,” Wayne said hesitantly, “that’s not all. I’m wearing diapers all the time, too.”
“What?” they all exclaimed at once.
“It’s true,” he declared, “but don’t worry. It’s not anything I caught from Danny. It’s something that just happened, sort of out of the blue.”
His friends looked like they were carefully weighing what he had said. I suppose, too, that they were trying to determine if maybe I had caused Wayne to ‘catch’ something.
“I’m kind of glad that it happened like this, I mean Danny and me being neighbors,” Wayne continued. “We have each other to talk to about our problems—you know, what it feels like to wear diapers at our age and other stuff like that.”
The guys were totally shocked by this last revelation. They tried hard not to pry too much but the conversation kept coming back to the topic. I told them about some of the cruel things that had been done to me. I was happy to hear them repeat over and over again that they wouldn’t let anyone treat me that way when they were around. By the end of the evening I was very confident that telling them about our diapers was the right thing to have done.
At bedtime, Wayne and I went up to his room. His mom helped us get into our nighttime diapers.
“Well, here goes,” I said as we went back downstairs to the den.
“You guys look just like my little brother,” Darin said.
The other guys jumped all over him.
“No, you don’t understand,” he protested. “I wasn’t making fun. I just meant that you looked cute.”
“Cute?” the other guys teased. “You think Wayne and Danny are cute?”
By now Darin was crimson with embarrassment. The more he tried to backtrack, the more teasing he got in return. The sleepover was a great success.
Epilogue
School starts in about four weeks. Mom and dad ordered me diapers like Wayne’s. Until they arrive, I am borrowing his. Sam, Tim, and Darin have come over several more times. Wayne and I have even grown comfortable enough to walk around in our daytime diapers in front of them. Word has spread around town that Wayne and I wear diapers all the time. Interestingly, Mark Kielly is one of our biggest defenders. Sam and Tim told us that they heard him chastise some kids who were making fun of us behind our backs. Who would have thought that my life would change so rapidly for the better? Not me.
One last thing. I may be na├»ve about a lot of things, but not about everything. Some day I’m going to ask Wayne at what age he discovered that he wanted to go back to full-time diaper wearing. It surely was a long time before he met me.
The End