Jimmy

 

I consider this to be less of a story, but more of a collection of memories. Enjoy…

 

As I lay in bed, I started to come to terms with the news. Dad was dead. Never again would I see him. Never again would I hug him. Never again would I hear his voice.

 

I started to sob. I missed him already. I could just about hear my sister sobbing in her room, next to mine. I didn’t blame her. Mum was still up, drinking whisky, trying to come to terms with it. It was hard on her. She had only found out about half an hour ago. A voice on the phone: “Mrs Jones, I’m afraid that you’re husband has been involved in an air accident. I’m sorry.” Mum had been crying since. She had called me and my sister in, to sit us on her lap. Then she broke the news. It took a while for it to sink in. He was dead.

 

I was only 8 at the time, and losing a parent when you are 8 is bad at the best of times. But when you’ve just gone through the difficulties of your parents separating, it’s even worse. You see, mum and dad were divorced. They had been all of 2 weeks when dad died. It’s quite a long story, but I’ll try to summarise it:

 

Having children had started it all. Dad had never really wanted one, but mum refused to have an abortion. That had resulted in my sister. Dad decided that he could manage having a daughter, but then mum got pregnant again. This time it was me. There was only a year’s gap between us, and we were almost constantly arguing. Dad had managed 8 years of it, with only the attraction of mum keeping him with us, but then a new job opportunity appeared, and mum refused to move. It was then that they decided to split up.

 

If you’ve ever had your parents divorce, then you’ll know what it feels like. Although mum and dad had never hated each other, they didn’t love each other enough to stay together. It was a long and difficult process for mum, me and Jodie. Jodie’s my sister. She’s one year older than me, at 9.

 

That night, when we found out about dad being dead, he was flying to where his new job was. The plane hit turbulence, and one of the engines failed. Then the other engines failed. It ended up as a burnt out wreck somewhere in the mountains. No-one survived.

 

I managed to cry myself to sleep.

 

I slowly drifted out of my dream. Something wasn't right. It took me a couple of seconds to fight the grogginess, and then I realised. My bed was soaked. For the first time in a year, I had wet my bed. I’m not saying that I particularly liked my father, he was always one of spanking and physical punishments, but it was definitely his death that had brought it on. I crawled out of the lake in the middle of my bed. There was still a lot to soak into the mattress. I could see the lounge light on. I padded downstairs in nothing but my wet underpants. I could see that mum was still sitting in the same place as she had been three hours ago when I went to sleep. The whisky bottle was still almost full though. It’s not like mum to get completely drunk. She looked up at me as I came in. There were red rings around her eyes, where she had been crying. She glanced down at my wet underpants, and motioned for me to sit on her lap.

 

I started to cry, very gently at first. She just held me close, whispering words of comfort into my ear. When I had calmed down, she asked what had happened. I explained waking up in a wet bed. She slid me off her, now damp, knee, and led me back up to my room. As she entered, she winced at the smell of the urine. She helped me strip my bed, and got the old plastic sheet from the airing cupboard. She stretched the crinkly vinyl across my mattress, and put a clean sheet over it.

 

“Just in case” she whispered to me. I changed my wet underpants, exchanging them for a dry pair from my closet.

 

When I was snuggled up, I slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

 

I could feel Jodie shaking my shoulder. I battled with my eyelids, trying to get them open. I could see her mouth moving, but it took a couple of seconds for me to gain hearing.

 

“…wet the bed. Jimmy, you wet the bed.”

 

My eyes widened in shock. It must have been at least 5 years since I had wet twice in one night. Jodie turned around, and walked out of my room. I glanced down at the puddle around my stomach. I must have been not long before I woke up that I wet, because the puddle was still warm. I inched my way out of it, feeling glad that it wouldn’t soak into the mattress. I gathered up my wet blanket, and took it down to the laundry room. As I went through the kitchen I warned mum that I had wet again. She made her way up to my room, carrying a couple of old towels. Years of experience had taught her that when I wet, I wet a lot. There was certain to be a puddle, not just a damp patch. I went up and helped her to re-dress my bed. As I was gathering up my damp sheets, I started to cry. Why was I starting this again? I hadn’t wet in a year. I hadn’t wet twice in at least 4 years. I put it down to stress. That was the best excuse I could come up with. Mum grabbed me, and hugged me as I cried. She was brilliant. She’s the sort of person who just gets on with it. Even when her husband has just died, she just carries on as if nothing had happened. I have often doubted how much she really loved him.

 

The best thing about my mum is that she doesn’t get angry. I have only ever seen her angry once, and that (fortunately) was not with me. There used to be some kids in our neighbourhood, who kept throwing stones through our window. Once they had done it about 4 times, she stormed out the front door, and told them exactly what she thought of them. As soon as they had all gone, she called the police. I never did see those kids again!

 

In this situation, she knew that I had not done it on purpose, and so she didn’t even get slightly cross at me. She merely helped me deal with it because she knew how hard it was for me to be a bedwetter. Unfortunately I was quite a bedwetter. I was really hard to train, being almost 5 when I finally got out of diapers during the day. Even after that day, I kept wetting at night until I was 7. The last time I remember wetting, I was wetting about twice a week, and then it just suddenly stopped. When mum and dad started to get separated, I started to find it harder to hold in my urine, but I had always managed to wake up enough to get to the bathroom and go in the toilet. But it seemed that dad’s death had been the turning point. No longer could I wake up, it just happened.

 

Unfortunately, the night after, I wet again. Twice. The same drill as the night before. The same happened the night after that, and the night after that. I just could not hold it in. I noticed that my daytime control was starting to diminish as well. I could just about manage to get to the toilet on time to get my underpants down, but a couple of times I couldn’t make it, and I started peeing before I managed to get them down. Both times, mum was very supportive of me.

 

You see, she had a high-school friend, who had been in almost the same situation. Her husband had died (although, they were divorced, and hated each other’s guts) and her son, who was about 7, had started to wet the bed too. As time went by, the boy started to regress further and further into his past. He got to a point where he was acting like a 4 year old during all of his time at home. It was really funny, because as soon as he went anywhere else, he acted like a 7 year old, but at home, he was 4. To get to the point of this little digression, this boy had gone back into diapers, as a result of his wetting problems. He had grown to like them, and they had become a vital part of his life. Once, when he was 10, his mum had tried to take them away from him, only to discover that this made him mentally unstable, and hugely depressed.

 

After about 2 months of wetting every night, and having about 3 daytime accidents a week, mum decided that diapers were probably the best thing for me.

 

The first time she tried to put them on me was on a Thursday.

 

“Jimmy, sweetie, I know you’ve been having problems with a few accidents.” She said, once gaining my attention with some ice cream.

 

“Now, I know they aren’t your fault, but I think that it would be better if you didn’t have to worry about them, don’t you?”

 

“I suppose so, but how do I do that?”

 

“Well, I would like it very much if you would try wearing diapers.”

 

“But, only babies wear diapers. I’m not a baby, am I?” I asked, with an initial objection to this idea.

 

“James Robert Jones, I never want to hear you say that only babies wear diapers again. I know of a few people who have sons who wear diapers. Are you calling them babies?”

 

I was scared. Mum never usually used my full name like that.

 

“I guess not” I said, hesitantly. Perhaps I was overreacting. Perhaps it would be obvious. I decided to back down a bit.

 

You see, I had started to think about what it would be like to wear diapers. However, with all the logic of a seven-year-old, only babies wore diapers, and I was no baby, so I shouldn’t want to wear diapers. Although mum had never caught me, I used to look through her magazines, looking for the diaper ads. Once, I had picked one of mum’s magazines out of the bin, and put it in my hiding place in my room. That and the diaper I had found once, right inside our gate. I used to like to get it out, when I was sure that mum and Jodie was asleep, and put it around my waist. It didn’t quite fit, but it gave me the feeling that I yearned. I had decided that if mum ever suggested diapers, I would act as if I didn’t want them, to make sure that she didn’t know that I wanted them.

 

“Listen, sweetie. Just wait here a couple of seconds.” She said, starting to walk out of the door. I just sat there. I decided that it wasn't a very good idea to anger my mother, as I didn’t want a tongue-lashing like the one that I had heard her give those kids with the stones. When she walked back into the kitchen, I could see that she had in her hands the diaper and the magazine that was hidden under my bed.

 

I looked up at her. Surprised that she knew where my secret hiding place was.

 

“Listen, Jimmy, I know that you have that loose floorboard under your bed. I loosened it. You see, when I found out about you looking at the diaper ads. (My eyes widened as she said this). Yes, I know about the ads, but anyway, when I found out about them, I decided that if you wanted to wear diapers, I should encourage you. I knew from the carefulness you adopted with the magazines, that you weren’t ready to open up about this, so I loosened the floorboard, and chucked out the magazine. Didn’t you notice that it was the one with your favourite ad in it?” I shook my head. It had never occurred to me that she had deliberately picked one out.

 

“And the diaper?” I asked “was that you too?” she nodded.

 

“I put that there, merely to make sure that I was right in you wanting diapers. I just had to be sure. And then I got impatient. So, I decided that I would ask you about it. You see, Jimmy, the loss of your father, however small you make out, means a lot to you. He was, after all, your father.

 

“So, given that I know about your desires, do you want the diapers?” I nodded. I could now see the entirety of my mother’s plans. She had, I have to hand it to her, planned it out very carefully. There was no point in trying to hide it from her. She knew I wanted diapers, and she knew I wanted them now.

 

“Come here then, and we’ll get your first diaper on you.”

 

I obediently followed her as she led me to my room.

 

As she led me my mind started to do summersaults. I couldn’t believe that at last, I would wear a diaper that would fit me, rather than a tiny diaper that didn’t. She told me to lie down on my bed, and start to get my clothes off. I wasn't in the least bit embarrassed when I took off my underpants and my penis was standing up like a telegraph pole.

 

“Well, even if you hadn’t said that you wanted them, that’s enough proof to tell me all I need to know” mom joked, as she saw my erection. She powdered over my small penis, and told me to roll over. She powdered my bottom, being very careful to get some powder right into the crack. As she did this, she explained what she was doing.

 

“The powder is to help stop you from getting a rash. When your sister takes over your changes, make sure that she gets it everywhere. I would hate for you to get a rash.”
My heard jumped a beat. My sister was going to be changing me. Opposite to what many people may think if they heard their sister was going to be changing their diapers, I was looking forward to it.

 

Mum then grabbed a couple of diapers from the stack that she had put down by my dresser. They were thick, white cloth diapers. The sight of the diapers and the smell of the powder helped to bring back distant memories. I remembered the many changes that I had had as a kid. She told me to lift my bottom up, so she could slide the first diaper under me. She pulled the front up over my fully erect penis, and pinned it with two pins on each side.

 

“Is that going to hold it in place?” I asked.

 

“Well, it would,” mum replied “but I seem to remember you having a want for lots of pins when you were four. You always used to cry ‘pin me, mommy’”

 

I smiled, the memory completing itself.

 

“Pin me, mommy” I said, somewhat more quietly than I used to. She smiled.

 

“Glad to see that some things haven’t changed then” she said, grabbing another four pins for each side. She pinned me up, and then told me to lift again. She slid the second diaper under me. She completed this one with 10 pins on each side - all the pins I had. She finished it off with a pair of translucent blue plastic pants.

 

“There.” She said “How does that feel?”

 

I couldn’t lie. “Brilliant” I said, with a massive smile on my face. The diapers, the action of changing, the smell of the powder, the bulkiness around my crotch. All of it made me smile. I decided that I definitely wanted diapers. There was no going back.

 

As you can imagine, it was quite a surprise when Jodie walked in from her friend’s house. I mean, can you imagine having an 8 year old brother prancing around the house in diapers?

 

She seemed pretty cool about it, though.

 

“Jodie, as you can see, your brother has a new item of clothing. As you can imagine, he won’t be using the bathroom for quite a while, so you can say goodbye to him leaving the seat up.” Jodie smiled.

 

“The one thing I will ask of you, is that you help me with the changing?”

 

Although I thought that she would say no way, and flatly refuse to have anything to do with changing my diapers, she didn’t. She just nodded, a small smile coming to the side of her face. I think she was looking forward to it.

 

I will never, ever forget the first time that it used my new diapers. I was sitting watching cartoons with Jodie, and I could feel that my bladder wanted to release. I tried to just let it go, but it wouldn’t come. One of the downsides of toilet training – you aren’t used to just going. I ended up standing up, and leaning over, holding onto the couch. In this position, I just managed to get the first squirt out of my system. After the initial squeeze, the heat and dampness helped me to completely release. I managed to get my bladder to release the entirety of its contents, flooding into my diaper. Oh Joy! The feeling of my fresh urine flowing over my tiny penis and balls. It gave me an instant erection, even whilst I was peeing. I shifted my body a bit to allow the urine to soak into an unsaturated part of my diaper. I could feel the pool building up underneath my now full erection, and I was still going strong. Jodie allowed me to finish, and then asked me if I wanted her to change me. I declined, as I wanted to sit in my now warm, wet diaper. I sat back down on the couch, savouring the feeling of the diaper under my bottom.

 

I carried on watching the TV for about five minutes, until the pee started to cool down. Then I asked Jodie to change me.

 

“OK,” she said “but I’ll have to get mum to show me how” I nodded. I didn’t want someone who didn’t know what they were doing.

 

Jodie called mum through, and they led me upstairs. The damp diaper was starting to rub my inner thighs, where mum had missed with the powder. I lay down on the changing mat that had been laid out on my bed. Jodie unpinned my soaked diapers, and deposited them in the pail that now stood in the corner of my room. I felt the cool air rush around my penis. I was also met by the smell. I never knew that slightly old urine could smell so bad. I could see Jodie react.

 

“If you’re going to change him, you’re going to have to get used to a lot worse smells than that.” Mum warned “You just wait until he messes, and then you’ll really have a smell to deal with.”

 

Jodie carefully wiped around my penis with some baby wipes. I was slightly embarrassed when my penis sprung to life, resulting in an erection that was harder than anything else that I had felt before. But I soon forgot the embarrassment when she rubbed the powder in. I closed my eyes, quietly enjoying the touch of my older sister’s hands on my member. I asked her to make sure she powdered the top of my legs, where mum had forgotten. She obliged, and diapered me in another two diapers, using eleven pins on each diaper this time.

 

Of course, I could never forget the first time I filled my diaper with a large poopy load either. I was, again, watching TV, this time on my own. Jodie was upstairs, chatting to her friend on the phone. As I was alone, I decided that I would make this pleasurable. First, I released my bladder. Then, as I savoured the feeling of the urine, I pushed out my poop. As I had been holding it for quite a while, it was really mushy. I could feel it coming out of my backside, forcing its way up the back of my diaper, and down under my crotch. As I had been saving up, there was enough to cover my penis, and right up to my belly button. I was absolutely blown away by the feeling that the warm poop gave me. Even better, when I sat down and it squelched beneath me. And then the smell hit me. My god did it smell. Even through the thick, double diapers, it smelt terrible. I felt naughty that I had dropped a load into the diapers. I ran to the study, where mum was writing some emails. I didn’t bother to explain why I was there; I let the smell explain that for me. She led me upstairs by the hand. She paused outside Jodie’s room to tell her to come and help with changing me. She had just finished on the phone, so she came out of her room.

 

“Jimmy that stinks” she said.

 

Mom smiled “You think that’s bad? Wait until you get the diapers off. That will be smelly.”

 

I just smiled and giggled. They led me off to my room, and changed my diapers. Mum was right, once my diapers were off, it really did smell - enough to make Jodie start to heave. Fortunately, mum had a strong stomach (she had years of experience with my dirty diapers), and she managed to get me wiped down. I found out (to my pleasure) that she had brought me some more pins. I don’t know why, but I just loved the felling that I couldn’t get the diapers off. Not that if I had been able to I would have, I just liked the feeling that I couldn’t. There were enough pins for me to have 25 on each side. That, needless to say, slowed down my changes.

 

Mum decided that she wanted to try to get me out of diapers when I turned 11. Needless to say, I didn’t agree with the idea. I had, though not very noticeably, regressed, and I needed my diapers. But I didn’t let my attitude convince my mother. I just spent a day of peeing and pooping with no control. Then she let me have my diapers back

 

The final memory that I want to share comes from when I had turned 12. I was still in diapers full time, and was enjoying it just the same as I did when I was 8.

 

That night, I had a massive erection. My penis was just starting to develop, and whilst Jodie was changing me, it felt so good to be touched. I decided that I would massage the front of my diapers to maintain that good feeling. Well, once I had started, I just couldn’t stop. I managed my first (but by no means last) ejaculation into my diapers. The only thing I didn’t realise was that I was rocking my bed enough to bang the headboard against mum’s room. Well, it didn’t take her long to work out what I was doing. The only thing she said the next day was:

 

“When you’re enjoying yourself in your bed, Jimmy, could you at least make sure the bed’s far enough away from the wall that I don’t have to listen to it?”

 

 

Part 2

 

The next memory I can think of goes back in time from the last one. It’s set when I was 9, and I had just made a new friend. He was new to the area, and he seemed like a nice sort of kid. I think he was adopted, but I can’t be sure. Even now, many years on, and in a very strong friendship, he doesn’t talk about his family. Anyway, from the very first meeting I had decided that I wouldn’t keep my diapers a secret (the joys of regression – think like a toddler!). Needless to say, he was somewhat surprised to see me in diapers, but he took it. He had the maturity not to take advantage, which is something you don’t often find in nine-year-olds. He seemed real nice about it, and I had him over for many sleepovers. He was the first real friend I had ever had.

 

To get on to the memory (sorry about rambling!) it was one of those sleepovers. We had just eaten a pizza, and we were settling down to watch a film in my room. I was dressed in just my diaper and a t-shirt, and he was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. About half way through the film, he turned to me and said “You know, Jimmy, you’re real lucky to wear diapers. I mean, you don’t ever have to get up to go to the toilet.”

 

 

Now, I’m not stupid, and I had noticed over the last couple of weeks that he had a fixation on staring at my diapers. I knew for certain that he wanted some. Of course, being the sort of guy I am, I replied: “Why don’t you wear some of mine? I’ve got plenty.”

 

As I had expected, he denied the idea, just as I had the first time mum had asked me. I didn’t do anything to convince him, and we just went back to the film. About 5 minutes later, he turned to me again, and said: “Do you think your mum would mind if I did?”

 

As not to embarrass him, I played ignorant “Did what?”

”Wore one of your diapers?”

 

“Oh. Nah, she wouldn’t mind.”

 

“Could you put one on me?”

 

“I can’t. I don’t know how, but if you ask my mum or sister, then they’ll do it for you.”

 

Again, he denied, and went back to the film. Again, about five minutes later, he turned to me and said.

 

“Would you come with me?”

 

“Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

 

I switched off the film, and followed Billy out of my room. He went into the kitchen, where mum was doing the washing up.

 

“Mrs Jones … uh … could you … uh …” he stuttered.

 

“Could I what?” mum asked patiently.

 

“He wants to wear a diaper.” I said, cutting Billy’s sentence short.

 

“Of course, dear. Just follow me, and we’ll get you in a nice cosy diaper.” Of course, she had noticed his fixation on my diapers. It was obvious to me that she knew that he wanted them. As Billy turned round, I could see a tent in the front of his shorts.

 

We both followed my mum, and she led us to my room. Before she told Billy to get on the mat, she asked me if I needed changing. I nodded my head. The load I had left in the back of my diaper had gone cold.

 

“That’s good then, because I have no spare pins. Up you get then”

 

I climbed up on the changing mat, savouring the last moments of that mushy load. She was quick about my change, and didn’t even flinch at the smell. As per usual, my penis was rock hard, and I could see Billy watching the entire change, his eyes wide with anticipation. I noticed him fidgeting from one foot to the other, as though he needed to pee.

 

Mum pinned me into another two diapers, using only 15 on each side, so that she had enough for Billy. She slid my plastic pants up, and called Billy over to the bed where the mat was. He went over, and let mum take down his shorts and his underpants. His penis was sticking up like a telegraph pole. Mum didn’t acknowledge it, just powdered him over, and pinned him in a double diaper much the same as mine. Just with less pins.

 

When she had finished, she told us that we shouldn’t be much later to bed, and that if we needed anything, she was in her room. I agreed, and we went back to watching the film. A couple of minutes in, Billy turned to me and asked “How can you pee in these things. I’ve been trying since we started to watch the film, and I still haven’t managed.”

 

“Its easy, really” I commented, “You’ve just got to get used to it.”

 

He shifted position a bit, as if to get in a more comfortable position.

 

“If it helps” I said “The first time I peed in one, I stood up, and leant over on the couch. You could try leaning on my bed.”

 

He agreed, and stood up, and bent over with both his hands on my bedpost. It was only a couple of seconds until I heard him quickly filling up his diaper. I smiled, as I saw his face light up. He was a diaper lover.

 

Part 3

 

This next one is back when I was twelve. I was still with Billy, and he had started to wear diapers full time like me (it’s a long story, but he was having a hard time dealing with a divorce.) We were both quite advanced in the diaper area for twelve-year-olds, if you get my drift. I had already discovered the joys of masturbating in my diapers, and I had no inhibitions of sharing them with Billy. Billy has always been (and I hope, always will be) the kind of guy you can share secrets with, and be absolutely sure that they will not go any further. So, after mum had gone to bed, and I was sure that Jodie was at least not in hearing distance, I shared this little pleasure with Billy.

 

“Billy” I said, with both of us under my blanket “Have you ever, you know, played with your thing?”

 

“What thing?” came the reply.

 

“Your … your … penis?” I finally came out and said the word.

 

“Well, a couple of times, but I don’t get that much time to, you know, what with sharing my room with my sisters.”

He was unlucky – his house was not too big (he wasn't really that well off) and he had to share a room with his two sisters. The odd thing is that even though they were less wealthy, had you just seen them in the street, the way that they presented themselves, you would think that they were better off than they were. But I digress.

 

“Well, I kinda have, and – if you don’t want to, then that’s fine – but I thought that you might want to – you don’t have to – do it now?”

 

Of course, what with not having the chance at home, he agreed, and within minutes we had both started to massage the front of our diapers. Unfortunately, the bed was not up to it. It started creaking really loudly, so we stopped. Billy expressed his disappointment.

 

“Well, we could do it on the floor” I suggested. It was agreed, and we dragged my double-mattress onto the floor. It wasn't long until we were both massaging again, this time with no creaky bed beneath us.

 

We kept going for a couple of minutes, then we both got the same idea at the same time. It’s really strange when you do that. We both stopped at the same time, and turned to each other. Billy spoke up first.

 

“Could you, you know, do me? It’s just I can’t seem to get it right.” I agreed with him, and I got up and went over to the door. I could see that Jodie's light was still on. That was good. It meant that she could diaper us again afterwards. I closed the door, and moved my chair to behind it. By this time, Billy had taken all but his diaper off, and was waiting patiently on the bed. I stripped off my clothes, and then we were both in just diapers.

 

“I don’t quite know how to ask this, but…” I started. It was true; I wasn't sure how to ask. “I have an idea, and I wouldn’t mind trying it out, only you’re the only person who I can ask.” He looked at me. It seemed that I had managed to say a whole sentence, and him not be any further in realising what it is.

 

“Jimmy, if its something like this then the chances are that I’ve thought of it, and that I would like to do it too, so just show me rather than trying to talk your way around it.”

 

He’s like that: straight to the point. We shed our diapers, and cleaned ourselves up, depositing the wipes and the diapers in the pail sitting in the corner of my room. I told him to lie down on his side, and I lay down facing straight at his penis. It was rock hard, and I could just make out the first sprouts of pubic hair around the base.

 

“I get the idea.” He said, placing my penis in his mouth. I was in heaven. This was so much better than just rubbing my diapers. I instinctively took the whole of his shaft into my mouth, and started sucking like there was no tomorrow. We worked on each other, but decided that we didn’t want to climax yet. We stopped just short, and let each other ‘cool down’ a bit. The next idea was his. He told me to lie down flat on my back. I obliged, after he agreed to my idea, and he slowly descended on my penis. At that point I didn’t know if I was gay or not. I know now that I’m not, but I was just at that age where you want to try everything. I think back now, and wonder if I was gay? Anyway, as he was moving around on my penis, I started to rub his, pulling back the foreskin. We decided that we would make this our last activity, and he just kept bouncing around until I was shooting my load into his butt. Shortly afterwards, he came all over his stomach, and it dripped down over him and onto me. It was the best orgasm I had had until then.

 

This action happened at many sleepovers, for about a year, until we got disinterested. We would still stroke each other, or occasionally suck each other off, but never back into the butt.

 

Part 4

 

When I turned 13, my mummy decided that my bed was not holding out. I had been satisfying myself in it for over a year now, and it was starting to show wear. We had recently got the Internet and, naturally, one of the first things that I searched for was diapers. I was rather surprised when the search engine came up with so many sites. I took a look round a few, and found one that was targeted at kids about my age who wore diapers. I started to contact the owner of this site (a 12 year old), and we became the modern equivalent of pen pals. We swapped stories. He had hated potty training, and after a year of struggling, his mum decided to give up on him. He had stayed in diapers ever since. As I learnt more about him, I started to notice some phrases and references that would not normally be made by a 12-year-old. Once, he had a massive slip up in an online chat, and referred to how he masturbated in his ‘crib’. He quickly corrected his error, and said that he meant bed, but something didn’t add up. It seemed to me, and at this point I knew him quite well, that he was living a life that was further into the past than he liked to admit. I challenged him, when I was sure that I had enough evidence to make a decent claim. We were chatting online

 

Jimmy:   Hey, Paul, u keep making slip-ups in your typing

Paul:      What do u mean?

Jimmy:   Well, twice now, you’ve called your bed a crib. Now, I don’t mind if u do sleep in a crib, but don’t u think u could trust me?

Paul:      Well, u see, I kinda like 2 visit my childhood. U know what I mean?

Jimmy:   Of course. I do it too. U mean u do sleep in a crib?

Paul:      Well, yeh, but don’t tell anyone, will u?

Jimmy:   of course not. It can stay our little secret :)

Paul:      Well, seeing as I’ve told you this much, I kinda eat from a high-chair, and get fed by my sister too.

Jimmy:   That’s so cool. I wish I could do that.

Paul:      y don’t u ask your mom? From what I’ve heard of her from u, I think she would be cool about it.

Jimmy:   I would find it so embarrassing tho. I don’t know how to ask her.

Paul:      Well, just drop in a few hints every now and then. Surely u can find a way to do it discreetly.

Jimmy:   I suppose, but I’ve got to go now, my sister wants the phone

 

This last statement was a lie. With broadband, you don’t hold up the phone line with your Internet. I just wanted to have some time to think without Paul pressuring me to ask mummy. I went upstairs, and lay down on my bed. The large creaking sound that it was making reminded me that if I wanted a crib, then I should get my word in before mummy bought me a new bed. I decided that if I wanted that, then I would have to pluck up my courage. I went downstairs to the computer where mummy had taken the computer.

 

I saw the chat dialog up on the screen. “Oh Shit” I thought, I had forgotten to close the dialog.

 

I walked in and sat on mummy’s lap. She started to stroke my hair. It’s something she does, whenever she’s got something hard to tell me, or when I need comforting.

 

“Jimmy, I couldn’t help but read the chat that you had with Paul.” She started. My tears started rolling. “Listen, I know that you have regressed. I have known that ever since that day that I took you out of diapers back when you were 11. I don’t think you realised it, but you were really grumpy when I took them off you, and as soon as you got them back, you were my little angel again.

 

“Jimmy, if what I read on the screen is true, then I can understand. I know how you feel. Or at least, I can guess. I don’t know exactly, as I have never been in that position, but I can sympathise with you. Now, its time your bed was replaced anyway, but before I go out and buy another bed, is that what you really want. Or would you rather copy Paul, and have a crib?” She had me in a corner. She has this way. She manages to get you somewhere where you would feel really guilty if you lied, not to mention regretting it for every moment until you confessed your real feelings. My voice was cracking, so I just nodded.

 

“OK.

 

“Listen, sweetie, I understand that you have regressed. Your father never really treated you with the love and attention that you needed, and I just couldn’t go against his wish, for fear of what he might do to me. I can understand why you would want to have a childhood again.” She said. She just kept hugging me until I stopped crying.

 

She sniffed the air. “And by the smell of things, you’re getting pretty ripe. Tell you what, go and ask your sister for a change, eh.”

 

She was right. I had pooped in my diapers. Although I had no control over it, I suppose that it was a good time to need a change. It stopped the difficult conversation that I was having with mummy.

 

“Ok Mummy.” I replied.

 

I hopped off her knee, and went up to Jodie’s room. She agreed that I needed a change, and changed me. I presented her with quite a large, stinking mess.

 

During this time, mummy was on the internet, looking up some suppliers for larger baby furniture. She found a site that had a crib, and a changing table. She decided that that would be easier than on the rickety bed that I had, and that I probably wouldn’t be able to get changed in my crib when it came. She hesitated when she saw the high chairs, and decided that she would wait for my prompting on that one. She ordered the furniture, and switched off the computer. She went and started to make tea.

 

At tea time, we were having chicken strips. It wasn't unusual for mummy to sit with us at tea, and as I saw her sit down, a thought entered my head.

 

“Would it be ok if you could … well …” I started.

 

“You want me to feed you?” she asked. I bowed my head in shame and nodded.

 

“That’s fine. Don’t think that I’ve forgotten how to feed a little boy.” I liked that - being called a little boy.

 

She shifted her chair round so she was next to me, and started to cut up my food. Then she started to make trains and aeroplanes, and cars, and all of the other things to make a toddler eat up his food. I giggled, and accepted every bite as it came. By the time I was finished, I had sauce all down my t-shirt.

 

“Well, I think I’ll have to dig out one of your old bibs, jimmy, because you’ve certainly made a mess.”

 

“Me?” I asked, in quite a loud voice

 

“OK, we’ve made quite a mess” mummy corrected herself. Later that night, I booted up the computer, and emailed Paul about the changes that had happened, telling him how mummy had found the chat box.

 

“Jimmy, sweetheart, can you leave the computer on when you’re done. I just need to do something on it later.”

 

“OK Mummy.” I replied.

 

I closed down the email client, and went upstairs. At this point I was in serious need for a change, as all of the food that I had consumed had pushed the, now digested food, out. In other words – I had pooped.

 

Jodie changed me, changing me into an even larger set of diapers. She led me downstairs, holding my hand, and we watched a film. Just the three of us. I loved the contrast between me and Jodie. I had seen the film loads of times before, so I kept comparing us. Here I was, taking up almost an entire cushions-worth of the sofa, and there she was not even taking up half of one. She could have fitted twice into the space that my diapers took up. Just one of those things, I suppose.

 

I fell asleep well before the end of the film, and mummy carried me upstairs, and laid me on my bed.

 

A couple of days later, I awoke to the sudden appearance of sunlight. Mummy had opened the curtains. At that point I didn’t know why she was getting me up so early. She pulled the back of my diapers back, and saw the large load of poop that I had deposited in it.

 

“Uh, mummy, could I have a couple of minutes alone?” I asked. It was my custom to have a session of relieving my erotic urges in the mornings, usually in my poopy diapers. She nodded, knowing exactly what I meant, and left the room, respectfully closing the door.

 

Within three minutes, I had shot my balls-load into my diapers, and was being changed my mummy. Although she didn’t say anything, she noticed the result of my session in the front of my diapers. She handled my sensitive penis carefully whilst changing me into a fresh set. She then picked me up, and carried me downstairs to the breakfast table. She fed me my breakfast, and set me loose in the study. She told me to stay put, and she would tell me when I could come out. I agreed, and booted up the computer. I signed on to the Internet, and picked up my emails. I had quite a few ‘regular’ diaper boys who I exchanged emails with. I noticed the one from Paul first. He was replying to the email I had sent him the previous night.

 

 

Hi Jimmy.

 

I know this sounds strange, but I’m glad that you didn’t close the chat window. It made it a hell of a lot easier to tell your mom didn’t it? Who says privacy is the best thing in the world?

 

I’ve gotta go now, cos we’re going out to my aunts.

 

Speak to you later.

 

Paul

 

I glanced through the rest of my emails, receiving the usual junk or two. I replied to about 5 that I had received from my long-distanced diaper buddies. As I was writing a reply to a kid known as ‘alwaysdiapered’, Billy signed onto the instant messenger. I quickly told him about what was happening. As soon as he heard about the idea, he liked it, and signed off, saying he was going to ask his mum about it.

 

About an hour after she had left me in the study, mummy came and told me that I could come out now. I had no idea what had happened, but I had heard quite a lot of heavy footsteps going up and down the stairs. Mummy led me to my bedroom by the hand, and told me to close my eyes. I obeyed, and she picked me up, and carried me into my room. She lay me down on what felt like my bed, and then I heard a click. She told me that I could open my eyes now, and I opened them. I was more than a little surprised when I saw the bars of the crib. I looked up, and mummy was smiling down at me. I smiled back, and started to roll about in my crib as a baby would. As I was rolling, I caught sight of the changing table that had been set up.

 

“Is that mine?” I asked.

 

“No, it’s for the dog next door” mummy joked. “Of course it’s yours. You’re the only one who wears diapers, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes mummy.” I said. Slightly surprised at the sarcasm she had used. I acted a bit upset. I pouted.

 

“There, there, Jimmy, I was just joking” she said in a soothing voice. She left me in my crib, and went out into her room. I could hear her unwrapping something. It sounded like something in a smallish box. Don’t ask how I knew it was in a small box, I just did. She returned with a pacifier. She stuck it in my mouth, and I started to suck on it. She went back out, and unwrapped some more things. She didn’t come back in, so I just drifted off into a light sleep.

 

Mummy woke me up when it was lunchtime, and let the side of the crib down. She picked me up out of it. I didn’t have any objections to being treated as though I couldn’t walk properly. I just contently sucked on the pacifier that she had picked up, after I spat it out in my sleep. She carried me so that I was facing backwards, so it wasn't until she was clipping the table around me that I realised that I was in a high chair. Mummy took my pacifier out, and placed it on the table, and tied a bib around my neck. It had ‘Jimmy’ written in coloured blocks on it. I didn’t mind the juvenility of it. In fact, it was quite appealing to me.

 

The rest of the day was pretty normal, with the exception of sleeping in a crib that night. As if to suit the part, I slept like a baby.

 

As you might expect, my life seemed to get more and more like that of a toddler, rather than a 13-year-old. I have to say, that I enjoyed the attention, and the whole babying thing. It was hard to get used to at first, but after I got the hang of it, it was ok. Although I didn’t notice at the time, mummy hadn’t given me the other things that she unwrapped the day that my new bed arrived. I found out about 2 weeks later, when Billy came over for a sleep-over. He had recently got a crib, but hadn’t told me the entire story behind getting it, so I was looking forward to the time to speak to him.

 

He arrived at about 6:30 in the evening. It was a Saturday, so we were allowed to stay up particularly late. We decided to watch a film. Now, most kids would rather have just their friends in that sort of situation, but ever since dad died, I’ve got a lot closer to my family. Naturally, I asked both Mummy and Jodie to join us in watching the film. So, there we were - me and Billy in diapers and a t-shirt, Jodie and Mummy in normal clothes. The line up on the sofas was me and Mummy sharing one, and Billy and Jodie sharing one. Although I didn’t know it, it had been arranged like that. We watched about an hour of it, when the girls wanted a bathroom break. That’s one brilliant thing about wearing diapers. You don’t have to get up to use the toilet in the middle of anything. Mummy also offered us something to drink. We both decided that we wanted something, but left it up to Mummy to decide what. I knew that we could trust her to pick something good. It was quite a surprise when she came back in with two baby bottles of warm milk. Now, I know that Billy had some baby things at home. In fact, he had told me that he slept in a crib, and gets fed in a high chair. But I don’t think that he had any baby bottles. I also knew, though I didn’t necessarily tell him, that he enjoyed being babied. It’s always easier when you know exactly how they feel. So, without hesitation, he accepted the fact that we were going to have milk from a bottle. Well, the next part came as a surprise to both of us. Mummy handed Jodie one of the bottles, and then they both sat down. They then motioned that we should put our heads in their laps. I was with Mummy, and Billy was with Jodie. I willingly accepted, and Mummy proceeded to feed me the entire bottle. The film was restarted, and even when I had finished my bottle, I stayed with my head in Mummy’s lap. When I glanced over, the same was true of Billy. He was lying there, with his head in Jodie’s lap. I happened to know that he found her attractive, and I could tell that he had an erection inside his diapers. I could detect the slight tent it was making.

 

The film finished, and the girls carried us upstairs. Jodie was very strong, so could carry Billy without much difficulty. They took us upstairs, and lay us in my crib. Then they left the room. Jodie came back after a couple of seconds, and started to read us a baby story. This was, too, a novel experience, as she had never done this before. I didn’t even know where she had got the story from. I found out later that Mummy had brought me some when she was out shopping that day. By the end of the story, I was completely relaxed, and didn’t even feel like relieving my, now subsiding, erection. I just drifted off into a deep sleep.

 

And that’s pretty much it. I have been like that ever since, for the last three years. That’s all the memories I can think of, but if I ever do think of another, then I’ll post it here.