Chapter 7- Sunday Morning

As I woke up on Sunday morning I could feel some sort of pressure on my back, almost as if someone was sitting on me. I curiously reached back there and felt something furry, and when I picked it up and turned around onto my back I saw that it was Buster. He lay down on my stomach where my diapers were, claming me as his bed for the moment, and I just smiled and petted him while he napped. “Silly kitty,” I said to myself.

I realized that my diapers were even wetter than I remembered them being the night before. I thought that that was odd, though, because I also had a strong urge to pee, as well as poop. I spread my legs out even farther than the diapers forced them and began to pee in my diapers. My position made my pee stream trickle down the crotch of my diapers, and it even made its way to my butt. After a moment I rose up a bit and I also started to poop into my diapers. When I lay back down I felt the sticky mess squish up against my buttocks, as I was getting use to.

I looked over at Dylan’s clock and noticed that it read eight thirty-five. Dylan was still in his bed, sound asleep. He was once again lying on his stomach, although the covers were on him as it was pretty cold the previous night. Much to my surprise I heard his butt emit a long, albeit muffled, fart without him even waking up! I realized that he was pooping his diapers in his sleep, and that made me think about how much he really did need them. It made me wish that I had more than a bedwetting problem so my mom would diaper me full time.

I heard the bedroom door slowly creak open and I glanced toward it to see Karen coming in. She was wearing a pink fuzzy robe, and appeared to have just taken a shower.

“Morning, Karen,” I whispered to her as I sat up.

“Morning Ethan. Dylan, are you awake?” she said to the sleeping boy, although she didn’t receive a response.

I curiously watched as she pulled the covers off him and sat on the foot of his bed, “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Shh!” she said, “Watch!”

Karen scooted herself back so that she was sitting on Dylan’s ankles. I saw him lift his head up to see what was going on, but as he did he gulped, “Oh no,” I heard him mutter before Karen reached under his armpits and began tickling him.

“Rise and shine stinky-butt!” she said, tickling Dylan, who was laughing uncontrollably.

“It’s time to get uuup so I can change your stiiinky diapers!” she sang as she patted on his diaper like a drum.

“Okay, okay! I’m up, I’m up!” Dylan said.

“Then get up!” Karen said.

“I can’t with you sitting on me!” he complained.

Karen got up from Dylan’s bed and he sat up. I could hear the mess in his diapers squishing as he did. “How are your diapers, boys?” Karen asked us.

“Why not find out?” Dylan said with a smirk.

Karen smiled and pulled back the waistband of Dylan’s plastic pants and stuck her nose inside. From the way she wrinkled her nose I could tell that she smelled the stinky poop that was inside of Dylan’s diapers.

“Either you’re poopy, or you had gas last night,” Karen said as she let the plastic pants snap back into place, “What about you, Ethan?”

“Well, I don’t think that’s mud in the back of my diapers,” I joked. We all laughed, and Karen told us both to hop up onto the changing table.

“You’re gonna change us at the same time?” I asked as we both climbed up onto the table.

“You bet!” Karen said as she removed my plastic pants, then Dylan’s. She alternated between us as she changed us, first removing one of my diapers, then removing one of Dylan’s. I think the whole process took at least five minutes.

“I have an idea!” Dylan said as Karen was in the middle of wiping him, “Let’s have a contest!”

“A contest?” I asked, “What kind of contest?”

“Let’s see who can wear the most diapers and go the longest without being changed! I’ve always wanted to do this, but I’ve never had anyone to do it with,” he mentioned.

“That sounds like fun,” I said, smiling.

“How many diapers should I put on you?” Karen asked as she began powdering us. She also used more Desitin for my rash, which was better, but still sore.

“As many as you can!” he said.

For good measures, as we were sure to be using our diapers a lot, Karen used a little extra powder on us. She went into the diaper cabinet and rummaged around for some diapers, as well as six pairs of Dylan’s larger plastic pants.

“How does fifteen diapers sound, boys?” she said in a motherly way.

Fifteen diapers? I could barely contain myself when she said that! As Karen got the first diaper pinned on me I felt a sudden need to pee (that’s another thing about me; whenever I get really, really excited I sometimes get a sudden urge to pee. It’s not like ejaculation, either. My doctor says I’m still a good year from being able to do that. It doesn’t happen very often, though). I could barely hold it, and I ended up releasing my pee stream right there and then, before Karen had even gotten the second diaper on me! It soaked through the cloth diaper almost instantly and dribbled on the table a bit.

“Whoa, Ethan! Wait until I’m finished diapering you!” Karen said.

“Sorry, sometimes when I get very excited I get a sudden urge to pee…” I mentioned, blushing.

“Don’t worry, it’s no big deal,” she reassured me as she wiped up the dribble with another diaper and continued to diaper us, “at least you had your diaper on. Just don’t plan on me changing you out of that one now,” she said.

I nodded and she continued putting the next fourteen diapers on us, along with three pairs of plastic pants each! She had to struggle somewhat to get the last pair of plastic pants to fit, but she eventually got us diapered and told us that their mom probably had breakfast ready by now. I walked behind Dylan so I could get a good look at his thickly padded behind. I nearly lost my balance and tripped down the stairs as I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, but I regained my balance and continued going down like nothing happened.

Dylan’s mom had breakfast ready, just like Karen said. She was sitting at the table, eating her own breakfast while reading the Sunday newspaper. She glanced up at Dylan and me and told us good morning as we sat in our seats in front of two plates of waffles, bacon, and eggs. Karen sat in a seat across from me and next to her mom.

“Do you want to be fed this morning, Dylan?” Karen asked him after sitting down.

“Sure!” He said eagerly before scooting over to the edge of the table where Karen was sitting.

I watched as Karen began cutting up his food and serving it to him, just like his mom had done for him the previous morning. I glanced over at Dylan’s mom, wishing she would feed me, but I was shy about asking. I kept glancing over at her and twirling my fork in my eggs, not really eating much. Dylan and Karen’s mom looked up at me after noticing that I wasn’t eating.

“Is something wrong, Ethan? You haven’t touched your food,” she said.

“Um, n-no…” I stuttered, “Nothing’s wrong…”

“Then why aren’t you eating?” she asked me.

I glanced at Karen and Dylan, then down at my food, and then to her, hoping she would get my message. I was too embarrassed to go right out and tell her what I wanted, so I relied on facial expressions. After a moment she nodded, apparently having figured it out.

“Do you… Want me to feed you?” she asked me.

“I-if you don’t mind…” I said, blushing somewhat.

“No, I don’t mind at all! Just scoot your chair on over here,” she said, patting the edge of the table.

Karen and Dylan glanced at me as I got up, picked up my chair, and brought it over to where Dylan’s mom was sitting. I sat down at the corner of the table and scooted my plate over between Dylan’s mom and me, and she started cutting up my food for me. As she brought a bite of waffle to my face I hesitated for a brief second before letting her slide it into my mouth. I smiled a bit, knowing that it wasn’t too bad. I knew that, hopefully, nobody at school would find out that I spent my weekend at Dylan’s house wearing fifteen cloth diapers, playing with baby toys, and having his mom feed me, and I knew that there was nothing to lose. Even if my own mother found out that I was being treated like a baby beyond diapers it probably wouldn’t matter. I knew that she wouldn’t care, as long as I was enjoying myself and it wasn’t harming anybody (which it wasn’t).

Karen finished feeding Dylan before their mom finished feeding me. I watched her as she went to get a wet rag to wipe the syrup from his mouth with. After I was finished eating, Dylan’s mom did the same thing for me, and Dylan and I went upstairs to brush our teeth. As we were in there Karen came in and reached into the medicine cabinet for something.

“What are you looking for?” Dylan asked after rinsing his mouth.

“Looking for some laxatives for you guys!” she giggled, “if you’re going to have a contest, you gotta do it right!”

She finally found a box of laxatives and pulled two from the box, giving one to me and one to Dylan. We both swallowed them simultaneously, and then went to Dylan’s room to do whatever. After reading a few of Dylan’s diaper stories that he had written, including one about Dylan’s own diaper experiences, I felt like I wanted to try writing a diaper story of my own, so Dylan and I went to the computer and opened up Microsoft Word.

“Um, only thing is that I don’t have a lot of, well ‘diaper experience’ to write about,” I mentioned.

“That’s all right; we can just start it out with this weekend, and then go from there as you get more and more into diapers. I’ll let you borrow a blank CD so you can take it home with you and work on it,” he said.

“That should work,” I agreed.

Dylan and I then switched chairs. At first I sat with my fingers hovering over the keyboard, trying to think about how to begin it. Soon I felt my brain flooding with ideas, and my fingers worked their magic on the keyboard. The words slowly began to form on the screen as I wrote my story. Here’s how it began:

“I’ve been a bed wetter for pretty much my entire life, from the day I was declared potty trained (obviously babies and toddlers who wear diapers are expected to wet their diapers at night, so I wasn’t exactly a ‘bed wetter’ then) at the late age of four. I was successfully potty trained for both pee and poop when I was four-years-old, at least in the daytime. I was diapered at night for my bed wetting every night until I grew out of the largest sized Pampers at age six, which was when I started having to deal with the embarrassment of wet sheets every night. I hated not being able to invite my friends over to my house for sleepovers because I was afraid that I would wet the bed and they would shun me. This is mainly due to my first ever sleepover with my friend Greg Wilson when I was six-years-old. I had finally gotten to know him well enough, and I figured that if I did bed wet he wouldn’t care, so I invited him over.”

“Wow, this is pretty good,” Dylan mentioned, “I never knew that you had a sleepover with Greg.”

“Yeah, I did, but when I wet the bed he laughed at me and called me a ‘baby’. He also told everyone in the class,” I said.

“I remember that. I remember when I asked you about it you denied it, and I just assumed that Greg was spreading rumors,”

I nodded, knowing that Greg was, and still is, known for spreading rumors. It occurred to me that he didn’t seem to say anything about it now, but I just assumed that he had forgotten about it, or thought that I’d stopped wetting by now. As I wrote some more I felt the laxative kicking in, and I felt my bowels preparing to load my diapers with a gigantic mess. I got up on my knees and sat on my heels, then just let the mess flow out of my butt and into my diapers. It squished up into my butt and around my balls once I sat down, “I just took a major crap,” I mentioned to Dylan.

“I wouldn’t have known unless you told me! We’re diapered up so thickly,” he said as he began rubbing the front of his diapers. I heard his plastic pants crinkle as he ran his hands over them.

“Have you pooped?” I asked.

“You bet! I did it while we were reading earlier, actually,”

I just nodded again. I wanted to be changed, as Dylan and I usually are after we have a bowel movement, but this time I knew we were having a contest, and I didn’t want to lose! I also doubted that Karen would be up to removing all of my diapers until either my parents came or I got nice and smelly, whichever came first.

I continued writing my story until I ran out of things to mention about in it. Dylan went over to some shelves and pulled a blank CD from its rack, as well as getting a case for it. He inserted the CD into the drive and I saved my story, then copied it onto the disk the before closing it and putting the CD in the case. I also made sure to keep a copy on Dylan’s computer so he could read it.

“Do you mind if I share your story with the boys that I e-mail? I’m sure they’d love reading it!” Dylan said.

“Not at all, you can if you want,” I said, smiling.

Not much else happened for the rest of the morning, other than Dylan and me pissing, and especially shitting, in our diapers like hell, and reading stories, including my newly written story.