My First Summer

	Summary: the story is written as if it really happened it is 
about "me" when I was nine and hurt my back and lost control of my 
bladder and some control of the functions of my legs. It's about how I 
went to live with my aunt who took care of me and diapered me in 
Pampers every moment of the day. The story can be finished if there is 
much desire from the audience. This is a false account of what 
happened-- none of the characters are real and I never wore diapers as 
a boy, although I would have loved to.

	My name is James and this is the story of the summer of 1992. 
That summer changed my life forever. The event that happened to change 
my life actually happened a few months before that, but what happened 
that summer really changed my life and the way I felt.
	I was the smallest kid in my class, always was after kindergarten 
as all the kids around me got bigger and taller I seemed to stay the 
same. At least I thought there wasn't any difference, but my mom's 
friends always said I looked like I was growing. I had a bad attitude 
about my size and was really tired of getting picked on, so I had an 
attitude of a six-foot-ten-inch football player. Unfortunately my mouth 
and attitude often got me into trouble. And that is how I am in the 
shape I'm in today.
	It was a couple months till summer break, school had just let out 
and Tommy and his buddy Cory were partaking of their favorite pastime, 
picking on me. Now I know now looking back that I had it coming as I 
was always trying to be bigger than I really was, but I felt that what 
I got I didn't deserve.
	Tommy and Cory were arguing with me. Funny thing is that now I 
cannot remember what it was we were arguing about, but at the time it 
seemed very important. I cannot remember a lot of what happened, but I 
do remember Tommy saying something to the effect of, "shut up, you 
little shrimp!" or something like that. And then he shoved me. I was 
standing with my back to the curb and the school buses were still 
coming in to pick up the students. When Tommy pushed me I remember 
losing my balance and falling backwards and twisting around to catch 
myself as I fell. I could hear someone screaming in the background as I 
landed on my chest. Then, total blackness covered me and I remember 
hearing someone screaming again. I couldn't stand the noise; it was so 
loud and seemed to go on forever then silence.
	I woke up almost two weeks later only to find myself in a 
hospital room. I couldn't move and when I tried to speak it hurt so bad 
that only a squeak came out. I hurt like I had never hurt before. My 
legs felt as though someone had used them for batting practice, but the 
real pain was in my lower back there was certainly something wrong. I 
tried to sit up and nearly passed out from the pain. Being that I was 
only 9 at the time I did what any nine year old who was scared and hurt 
would do. I cried, the tears rolling down my cheek and sobbing like a 
baby. I hurt so bad the crying made me hurt more, and the added pain 
just made me cry harder. It was a horrible vicious circle.
	A nurse entered the room, she must have heard my crying and come 
to check on me.
	"Well, it is good to see you're awake now, young man," she said 
as she crossed the room and opened the curtain.
	The sunlight came in through the window causing me to wince as it 
hurt my eyes. She then came across the room to my bed and lifted the 
cover and reached her hand under and I could feel her stick her finger 
in my underwear, only the underwear felt really odd. Odd and wet.
	"I'll get the doctor and let him know you're awake, and then I'll 
get you a dry diaper," she said as she strolled out of the room.
	I was in shock. That is the only way I can describe how I felt at 
her words. Total shock. Did she just say diaper? No, couldn't be. I'm 
nine, I don't wear diapers. But she had stuck her finger in my 
underwear like she was checking a baby's diaper. Come to think of it, 
they didn't really feel like underwear at all. I could look and see, 
but I couldn't get my arms to move to pull back the sheet that covered 
me. I moved my legs a bit. Sure enough, there was that sound, a sound 
everyone knows, but only associates with babies. The sound of the 
plastic on a disposable diaper.
	This just couldn't be, me wearing a diaper. Well maybe it was 
because I had been sleeping, but how long had I been asleep? I was so 
confused that I begun to cry again, not a sobbing cry but rather a 
silent cry. I could feel the rivers of tears as they rolled down my 
cheek. I could taste the saltiness of them as they passed my lips. I 
couldn't bear to look under the sheet so I just lay back in my bed, 
trying to sink into it and disappear. Suddenly, another thought 
occurred to me-- who had put the diaper on me? Had I been asleep long 
enough to need more than one? If so, who changed me?
	Just then the same nurse came bursting into the room. I could see 
the diaper in her hand as well as a container, but I could not make out 
what it was. She made her way over to my bed and laid the items on the 
stand beside me. I looked over at the diaper; it was green and plastic. 
It looked huge, and in fact it was very thick. She reached out to pull 
the cover back, and when she did I grabbed her arm with both hands, 
causing a pain to shoot through my lower back.
	"What are you doing?" she asked me with a confused look on her 
face.
	"I'm not wearing that... that thing," I blurted out looking over 
at the diaper laying on the stand.
	The nurse was rather young and I attributed her lack of social 
skills with patients to that but I say now that how she handled herself 
was appalling; in fact it still makes me shudder to think back on it.
	"What do you think you're wearing now?" she asked bluntly, 
pulling her hand from my Vulcan death grip.
	"You're soaking wet and I need to change your diaper or I'll get 
in trouble," she said as she ripped the sheet back.
	It was then that I saw the diaper for the first time. It scared 
the hell out of me to see it. It felt as though it was glaring back at 
me with a mocking grin. Then when I realized that in order for her to 
change my diaper she would need to take the old one off I got even more 
scared. Because even I knew nobody wears anything under their diapers! 
My mother hadn't even seen me naked since I was like three or 
something. Hell, nobody had ever seen me naked in a very long time.
	"Look," said I, trying to think quick, "you don't really need to 
do this I can just wear the one I have on, besides, I'm awake now. I 
don't need another one. I can get up to go to the bathroom."
	She stopped for a second and looked me in the eye. I could tell 
she didn't like me too much and realized maybe she didn't like this 
anymore than I did.
	"I have orders that you are to be diapered at ALL times, so 
either you can lie back and let me do my job, or I can go and get a big 
needle and give you a shot to put you back to sleep."
	She sounded like she meant it and I hate needles, so I just 
relaxed as much as I could and nodded my head. She reached over and I 
could feel her pulling at the first tape as she undid my diaper. I 
covered my eyes with my arms and tried to bury myself. I wished for 
death. I could hear her undo another tape as the tears started to roll 
down my face once more. She undid what sounded like four tapes which 
seemed strange to me as I thought diapers only had two. I then felt her 
pull the front of the diaper back. The air hitting my boyhood felt 
really cold. I shivered not just from the cool air but at the thought 
of her seeing my penis. She then rolled me over a bit and slid the 
diaper out from under me holding me on my side. I then felt something 
wet running over my entire bottom. "My God, she's wiping me down like I 
was some kind of baby!" She then rolled me back onto my back and my 
worst fears happened. She took the wet wipe and started to wipe the 
front; starting at the base of my balls she wiped upward. I could feel 
her fingers as she grasped my small testicles and wiped them clean. She 
then grabbed my penis with her other hand and wiped the top of my 
balls. I almost died right there! No-one not anyone had ever touched my 
balls before, let alone held my penis in their hand. I wanted to just 
curl up and die. She wiped the front of my balls and then ran the wipe 
up the backside of my penis while she held it in her other hand. But 
she wasn't done. She dropped my penis and I could hear and feel it as 
it smacked against my balls. She took the wet wipe covered hand and ran 
it down the length of my small boyish penis causing me to shudder. Then 
she wiped all over the front of my pubic area, making sure she brushed 
against my penis many times as she did so.
	Looking back on it now I am sure she did this all on purpose to 
make me as uncomfortable as possible, and believe me it worked I could 
feel my face growing bright red with each wipe. My ears felt as though 
they were on fire.
	She then stopped and dropped the wipe into the old diaper and 
rolled it up using the tapes to hold it in a neat ball. So there I was 
lying on the bed in the hospital naked as the day I was born in front 
of a total stranger who had just touched my balls and held my penis in 
her hand. I could hear her as she unfolded the diaper. It seemed to 
make a lot of noise as she did this. By this time my mouth was 
completely dry. It felt as if my tongue was stuck to the roof of my 
mouth as I watched her unfold the new diaper. It looked bigger than a 
baby diaper and it was green. I didn't know they made such big diapers. 
(I found out later that they made them even bigger than that after all 
I was small enough at age nine to fit into Pampers still. But more 
about that later.) I watched in semi-terror as she turned and spread 
the diaper. I nearly jumped out of my skin when she took my ankles in 
one hand and lifted them upwards a little. I can't remember if I jumped 
because it hurt my back when she did this or if it was because it felt 
too much like I was a baby at that moment.
	"Relax, buddy," she said in a mocking voice, "you'll have plenty 
of time to get used to this."
	She slid the diaper underneath me and lowered my legs, spreading 
them out as she did so. I could feel the softness of the offending 
article as I lay on it. My mind kept hearing her words over and over 
again. What the hell did she mean I would have plenty of time to get 
used to it? How long was I going to be there? Was I going to have to 
wear a diaper the whole time I was there? My mind was numb I tried to 
think of something else but my brain just didn't seem to want to 
cooperate.
	She then took the container from the table where she had laid it 
along with the new diaper. I could now see it was some kind of lotion 
as she squeezed a large glob of it onto one hand.
	"This'll keep you from getting a bad diaper rash," she said as 
she rubbed her hands together. She had put quite a bit of emphasis on 
the word "diaper", making me cringe even more.
	The lotion felt very cold when she began applying it to my loins, 
if I had not been so embarrassed by the fact that she was not only able 
to see my most private parts, but actually touching them as she applied 
the lotion. I might have noticed how great it felt to have her doing 
this. When she had the lotion all over the entire area, and in every 
nook and cranny she wiped her hands on one of the moist towelettes and 
pulled the diaper up between my legs sealing in and finally covering my 
boyhood. She taped the diaper shut with precision and gathered up the 
used diaper and supplies and left the room.
	She had not covered me up and left me lying there with just the 
diaper on. Looking back later, I am not sure why I did not have a gown 
or some pajamas on. I just lay there for a moment looking down at the 
offensive thing that had just been placed between my legs. That 
horrible green plastic thing that made noise with even the slightest 
movement. I was sure in fact that I could hear it rustle with every 
breath I took. Yes, yes, there it was, I heard it again as I let out my 
shallow breath. I do have to admit, though I would gladly have taken it 
off, it did feel rather nice. Soothing if you will.
	Just as I was lying there trying to get used to this thing 
between my legs the doctor barged into the room. As I struggled to try 
to find my sheet to cover up my awful green plastic diaper I watched in 
horror as behind the doctor came a crowd of other younger doctors. They 
all came and circled my bed as the older doctor began talking, 
evidently discussing my medical condition. It was then that I learned 
that when I had fallen I had landed on my side with my back to the 
oncoming bus. The bus driver had been unable to stop in time and the 
front wheel had run me over. Luckily for me the driver had had enough 
sense to let off the brake when he realized that he was going to, in 
fact, run me over. So the wheel had just run right over me. But one 
cannot expect a bus to run you over without doing some damage. It had 
run right across my lower back and hips. I heard the doctor say words 
like "severed nerve" and "incontinent" as well as things like "lucky to 
be able to walk". I lay there with my diaper exposed all the while as 
these strangers shook their heads and took notes or asked questions. It 
was starting to sink in as I listened to the group asked their 
questions and got their replies. I was going to be wearing diapers 
quite possibly for the rest of my life!
	Just as quickly as they came in they all turned and left, all but 
the older doctor who placed his hand on my thigh and looked in my eyes. 
I thought I saw a bit of compassion in his eyes but I can't be sure now 
as it was a long time ago. He told me he would be back later to help me 
understand what had happened. He told me to stay positive. Then he left 
and went out the room. He never did come back and explain anything to 
me.
	The next day I was taken up to the pediatrics ward where I and 
another boy were the only ones in diapers. Luckily because of my back 
injury I spent most of the time in the ward in bed, so I did not get 
picked on nearly as much as the other boy who was able to get out of 
bed. Every time he would walk to the bookshelf to get another book you 
could hear the unmistakable noise of a disposable diaper. The other 
kids would laugh and make funny noises as he walked across the room. I 
never did find out why he was there or why he wore that diaper.
	I was there for another two weeks, and while I was there the 
physical therapist came once a day and took me to the therapy room and 
had me do all kinds of exercises and stretches. I was sure that 
everyone in that room could tell I was wearing a diaper, although 
nobody ever said anything. It was getting to the point where I could 
walk pretty good, or at least I thought so, while holding on to 
something or someone. I was mostly wheeled around in a wheelchair 
though, which can have its benefits. During my stay my mother came to 
visit me just one time. The nurse had tried to get her to change my 
diaper, but she had refused and made a big scene about not changing her 
nine-year-old son's diapers. I didn't know it at the time but that was 
the last time I saw my mother until the following autumn. A week later 
I was to be released to go home, or at least I thought I was going 
home. And as I said before this is where the story really starts.

2
Aunt Tory

	The nurse came in that morning to change my diaper as usual and 
I, as usual, tried to explain to her that if she just wouldn't put 
another one on me I was sure I would be able to make it to the toilet. 
As I was explaining this I noticed that another woman had come into the 
room with her. She was rather lovely to look at and she seemed familiar 
but I wasn't sure who she was. She was clutching her purse string in 
both hands holding her purse in front of her. She had the look of 
someone who had been crying-- you know the look-- shiny nose, red eyes 
and runny mascara. Despite this, however, she was an attractive lady, 
and I remember thinking she looked like someone's mother. She had 
giggled a little when she had heard me argue with the nurse about the 
diapers, a nervous little giggle.
	The nurse handed her the diaper and patted her on the shoulder as 
she turned to walk out. She looked down at the diaper and then at me. I 
could tell she was nervous, but at that point I just wanted to know who 
the hell she was and why she was holding my diaper.
	"Hello, James," she began as she approached my bed. Oh great, she 
knows my name, I thought, as she approached me.
	"I'm your aunt Tory, I'm your father's sister. We met once when 
you were a baby. That was before your father died." She fidgeted a bit 
and dropped her purse in the chair next to my bed. She stood there 
looking at me, fidgeting with the diaper in her hands as she tried to 
find the words to say.
	"Your mother has asked me to take you home with me and take care 
of you." A tear ran down her cheek as she said this.
	"Oh James, I am so sorry this happened to you, but you know how 
busy your mother is. She just doesn't have time to take care of you the 
way you'll need to be taken care of now."
	I knew as well as this woman did that my mother never wanted me 
after my father died, and especially not now. Not now that I could 
barely walk and was wearing a diaper.
	She took a step closer and ran her hand across my forehead and 
cheek, pushing my blond hair back as she did so. "If your father were 
still alive, I know he would take care of you, but since he is not here 
your mother thought it might be better for all of us if I took you home 
with me for the summer. There's a really good hospital just for kids by 
where I live and they have a really good program to get you walking 
just like before. It will be great, you'll see. I live in a nice, quiet 
neighborhood, but there are some kids your age," she added as almost an 
afterthought.
	"Now, what do you say we get you changed and get your clothes on, 
we can talk plenty on the plane back to Ohio."
	Looking back on that day now, I think it funny that she changed 
my diaper so quickly and methodically. It was so different when we got 
to her place. The hospital had supplied me with a wheelchair to take 
home. I hadn't realized that I was going to get to keep it when they 
had fitted me with it. Aunt Tory was great. She wheeled me out of the 
hospital at a breakneck speed. And when we had gotten to the airport 
she had wheeled me all around there, too. It seemed like she was 
starting to come alive while pushing me around in that chair the first 
day. I felt a little weird being outside the hospital with a diaper on, 
and in the wheelchair, but I felt good being around her. I felt loved 
and special. We had lunch in the airport restaurant and talked and 
laughed. Neither of us spoke of my mother, although she was on my mind 
quite a bit that first day.
	We went to the luggage counter and checked in my wheelchair. It 
was going to go into the belly of the plane. Aunt Tory said I could 
hold onto her to walk and if I got too tired she would carry me. Being 
nine though, I opted to walk. But alas the walking got to be too much 
for me rather quickly and I needed her to carry me. Luckily I only 
weighed thirty-eight pounds. But I think I could have weighed a hundred 
that day and she still would have slung me on her hips one leg in front 
of her the other behind her. All the walking and excitement had worn me 
out and I was dozing off with my head resting on her shoulder as she 
carried me onto the plane. I remember feeling like a little kid again. 
As we walked through the gate I could hear the flight attendant ask her 
my age, you know the cutesy voice woman use to ask a little kid's age. 
When my aunt told her I was nine I remember her shocked "oh, well, you 
might want to pull his shirt down in the back. His diaper is showing." 
The kind lady pulled my shirt down as she said this. "He sure is a 
little thing, isn't he?" she added. "I thought he was about four." I 
imagined that this is what it felt like to be a little kid. I remember 
the strange feeling of security as she held me in her arms and gently 
placed me in the seat next to the window. I only remember small bits of 
that plane ride home even though it was the first time I had ever been 
on a plane.
	When we landed she helped me out of my seat, I remember feeling 
quite sick because my back hurt so bad and had to hold on to her arm 
extra tight. My legs still defied me when I tried to walk. I knew what 
I wanted them to do but they just seemed to have a mind of their own. I 
would try to step forward and they would clumsily lift and drop. I 
couldn't quite keep my knees straight and the legs didn't seem to want 
to hold my weight anymore. I was relieved, and a little embarrassed 
when aunt Tory lifted me up and slung me on her hip like a three-year-
old. I wrapped my arms around her neck and rested my head on her 
shoulder. I felt strangely juvenile once more, but yet I felt secure 
there in her arms. She stood there with me in her arms swaying back and 
forth ever so slightly as we waited for our luggage.
	"You're wet, aren't you, little guy?" she asked me in a quiet, 
sweet voice. I could feel my cheeks grow red at being called "little 
guy." After all I was nine, and up until the accident I had thought I 
was pretty tough despite my age. I nodded my head, feeling even more 
childish.
	"Well, we'll be home soon and I can get you changed. I bought you 
some better diapers before I came to get you. We'll get you a bath and 
get you something nice and dry to put on."
	We gathered our luggage and my chair and headed out the door, me 
in my chair and aunt Tory pushing me at great speed across the parking 
lot. When we reached her car I was surprised to see she had a new 
Mustang GT. The chair barely fit in the trunk as I stood there leaning 
on the shiny red car watching her put it into the trunk. I felt that 
feeling I was starting to get used to and looked down at my crotch and 
watched in half amusement as the right leg of my pants, then the left 
side got wet, forming a circle then a line down my legs. Aunt Tory 
closed the trunk and saw me staring down at the wetness on my legs. I 
felt so helpless at the moment I mean I couldn't even tell I was going 
to do it. She just brushed my cheek and told me not to worry, we would 
be home soon. I was worried about the seat in her car but saw that it 
was leather and since she wasn't worried about I decided not to, 
either. She helped me get in, or rather, lifted me in, shut the door 
and walked around to the other side. Aunt Tory liked to drive fast as 
much as she liked to push wheelchairs fast. And she was right, we were 
home in no time. The house we pulled up in front of was not a mansion, 
but it was big and it was very nice. As she was helping me out of the 
car I noticed a couple kids my age were in the yard next door watching 
as she lifted me out of the car and flung me to her hip. I felt a bit 
ashamed at this but I looked much younger now that I needed all this 
assistance, so I tried not to look at the kids.
	She carried me in the front door and set me on a wooden chair. 
"You just wait right there, James, and I'll get your stuff from the 
car." And she disappeared out the door again.
	She came back in pushing the chair with my small amount of stuff 
on it. She saw me looking at her and smiled. That smile made me melt; 
no one had smiled at me like that before. It wasn't a pity smile, but 
rather a smile of complete and utter love. I couldn't help but smile 
back at her. Although the weather outside had gotten quite warm it was 
very cool in her house and I felt at ease sitting there in a wet diaper 
in a complete stranger's house.
	"Come on," she said as she took my hand and helped me down from 
the chair. "I'll show you around a bit." We walked down the hall of the 
ranch-style house and the first door we came to one the left had the 
door open. She led me in there and I could see some of my own things in 
the room, but what caught my attention the most was the stacks of what 
looked like Pampers on the dresser. There looked to be about a hundred 
of them there along with bottles of lotion, oil and powder. I once 
again got that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
	"Your mother sent most of your belongings down as well as all 
your clothes." She looked down at me and smiled a small smile, let out 
a sigh and clasped her hands.
	"James, your mother wants you to stay here for the summer, but I 
think there is a small possibility you may be here for awhile longer 
than that, and I want you to know that I want you here." She patted the 
top of my head, I know she was trying to make me feel better, but I 
hated all the ways she treated me as if I were a baby.
	"I'm nine, you know, I'm not a little kid anymore."
	"I know, James, but for awhile at least you're going to need a 
lot of help doing things that were otherwise simple for you to do on 
your own. Now come on, I'll start your bath."
	She then took my hand and led me into the bathroom. She was very 
patient as it seemed to take forever to get there. When we entered she 
led me the toilet where I sat down. She had installed railings on the 
wall by the tub and around the toilet. I sat there on the "throne" 
holding onto the railings to keep myself from falling off and watched 
her run the bath water. She put something in the water and I could 
smell a familiar scent. The sound of the water caused me to once again 
wet myself. By this point my pants were soaked and the floor was 
getting a shower.
	"Those hospital diapers don't do a very good job, do they?" she 
asked me as she gently guided me from the toilet to the rug on the 
floor. She began to carefully undress me, pulling off my shoes and then 
my soaked pants. I would wince at every movement and she noticed.
	"I'll get you one of your pain pills when you get in the tub, 
okay?" she said in a quiet, sweet voice.
	I nodded my head as it had been quite sometime since I had had a 
pill and it felt as though that bus was still on my back.
	After she had gotten all my clothes off she sat me up and looked 
in my eyes.
	"Would you like to sit on the toilet and see if you can do a 
number two?"
	I immediately turned red and looked down at the floor. They 
hadn't let me use the bathroom at the hospital and I remembered how 
embarrassing it had been to have someone clean me afterwards.
	"I'm nine, aunt Tory, we don't call it making a number two 
anymore." I could tell I had said it a little too harshly by the look 
on her face.
	"Well then, James, what would you like me to call it?" she asked.
	"We say 'take a shit.'"
	"We?" she asked.
	"Me and my friends."
	"Well then, James, would you like to sit on the toilet and see if 
you can take a shit?"
	I laughed a little and shook my head. "yes I think I could take a 
shit right about now." I felt funny talking about my bodily functions 
with my aunt. After all I didn't really know her.
	It must have been contagious though as she started to laugh 
herself as she lifted the lid to the toilet. I lie there on the floor 
naked in front of a complete stranger and thought how odd this all was. 
She lifted me to the set and I gripped the railing.
	"I'll give you some privacy so you can go to work, I'll just go 
and get you your pill while you take care of business."
	She left the room but didn't shut the door. I could hear her out 
in the kitchen getting a glass. Then I heard the familiar sound of the 
pill bottle as she shook one of my pills out. I sat there, had my first 
bowel movement in a toilet since my injury, and felt a little better 
knowing that nobody had to clean me up when I was done. But the feeling 
of security quickly left when I realized I could not hold on and wipe 
at the same time. Man this really sucked was all I could think. I 
didn't want to call out to her and figured she would be in soon enough 
as she had left the water running. And sure enough she returned and 
shut off the water. She looked over at me and my cheeks must have been 
red because she asked me if I was done.
	"I can't wipe," I said in a real quiet voice.
	She just smiled walked over got some toilet paper kneeled down 
and leaned me forward into her bosom as she reached behind and wiped my 
backside. She repeated this once more sat me forward and looked at my 
face. She could see I was crying again and she wiped the tears from my 
eyes.
	"Shh," she cooed, "there's nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of 
grownups need help with these kinds of things every day. I don't mind 
helping you out whenever you need help. I want you to be here, James. I 
never had a baby, so I feel like I missed out on a lot of things. So I 
feel lucky to have someone here who needs so much help."
	I think she was trying to make me feel better but I almost felt 
worse as she lifted me up and placed me in the tub. I hate taking baths 
I always preferred to take a shower before. But as I lay in the warm 
bath water I felt relieved. I could almost feel the stress leave my 
body. The water had a sweet babyish smell from the oil she had put in 
it.
	She sat on the edge of the tub and put the pill in my mouth then 
she held the glass of water to my lips so I could take a drink.
	"The bottle says that these pills make you sleepy, so I want you 
to make some kind of noise while you're in here. It wouldn't look too 
good if you drowned the first day I had you, now would it?"
	I just shook my head. I felt tired all the time as it was. She 
stood and left the room. I just lay there for awhile enjoying the warm 
water as the pill started to take its effect on me. I think I had 
started to doze off because I don't remember her coming into the room, 
but there she was with a plastic cup in her hand. She reached down and 
scooted me forward and lowered my head into the water. With one hand 
behind my head holding me steady. She took her free hand and tussled my 
hair to make sure it was all wet. I felt as though I was dreaming and 
in my dream I must have been three because after the age of three 
nobody ever washed my hair, except at the barber shop. She sat me up a 
bit and put a glop of shampoo in her free hand then she worked through 
my hair and scalp. It was hard to keep my eyes open as she did this, 
but when she poured that first cup of water over the back of my head it 
brought me back for a second. And I must have tried to sit up because 
she shushed me in a quiet voice.
	After my hair was adequately rinsed she began to soap up a 
washcloth then she lifted me and wrapped one arm around my waist and 
began to wash me. She washed my neck then worked her way down, she 
didn't leave one single cell of skin on my body unwashed. I didn't even 
care when she washed my boyhood, I was that tired. Then she switched 
arms and washed the backside. She was careful when she washed the area 
where they had cut me open. It was pretty well healed by that time but 
I could still feel it whenever you touched it. When she had me fully 
clean she let the water out while she held me around the waist so I 
wouldn't fall. Then she took me in her arms and wrapped me in the 
softest, fluffiest towel I had ever seen. She dried my hair and carried 
me to my room where she laid me on the bed and dried me off really 
good, even between my toes. Then she rolled me over on my belly and 
dried me off really good. I was nearly asleep when I felt something 
cold and wet on my back and butt. I smelled something familiar but 
could not quite place it.
	I realized it was baby oil as she plopped the bottle beside my 
head. I could see the pink lid and label. She started to rub it in 
using her fingers to massage the sore tired muscles in my back. She 
kneaded the muscles and although it hurt a bit it also felt very good. 
She worked her way down, even doing my hindquarters. When she got to my 
feet she did between my toes all the while adding oil to keep me 
slippery.
	She then turned me over and squirted oil all over my front side 
and began to thoroughly rub it in she did my thighs legs and feet then 
worked her way back to my diaper area where she gently rubbed the oil 
into my hips and genitals. Now, I know what you are thinking, and 
looking back, she was only doing what any mother who wanted to protect 
her baby's skin would do. Of course she just wanted to protect my skin 
from the ammonia from my urine. And besides, I was nine and did not 
find it arousing. When the oil was rubbed in to where there was nearly 
no trace of it she pulled a bottle of baby powder from the dresser and 
sprinkled it all over the front of my diaper area. She then took what 
looked like a Pampers diaper and slid it under my butt, pulled my legs 
apart and pulled it through and taped it up. It felt different from the 
diapers I had had to wear while in the hospital. It actually felt good. 
It felt like... Heaven. I looked down as I had heard her do just two 
tapes and saw some cute little bears with umbrellas on the front. 
sticker. Sure enough there was a baby diaper wrapped around my loins.
	I sat up and reached down to pull it off, but she grabbed my hand 
and looked me in the eye.
	"Doesn't that feel better than the diaper you were wearing 
before?"
	I had to admit it, but I didn't have to like it, so I nodded my 
head.
	"These fit you much better than I had hoped, might be a little 
too big, in fact."
	She was right, it felt much looser than the hospital diaper had, 
and I was shocked to find myself thinking it looked better, too.
	"I'm nine, Aunt Tory. I can't wear a baby diaper."
	"Well, it looks to me like you can, and besides, it has to feel 
lots better than that old ugly green one."
	She had me there. It did feel better. I could feel the stand up 
leak guards as if they were letting me know they would let no urine 
past them, and I felt better with this one on. The ones from the 
hospital had been too tight on my thighs the tapes cutting into my 
upper thigh whenever I sat in the wheelchair.
	She then grabbed a tee shirt from the corner of the bed and put 
it on me and laid me back down. She then put socks on my feet.
	"There, you look so nice now that you nice and clean and properly 
diapered."
	I realized she hadn't planned on putting any pants on me and I 
got a little self-conscious.
	"I need some pants."
	What you need is to get used to wearing that diaper, you can't 
hide from it, you know." With that she lifted me to the floor and stood 
me in front of the mirrored closet door. With one hand on my back she 
reached over and grabbed the brush from the dresser. I couldn't stop 
looking at my reflection in the mirror. I looked just like a four year 
old who still wore diapers. The tee shirt she had chosen went just to 
the sticker on the front of the diaper letting anyone see that I was 
obviously wearing a Pampers size six baby diaper. The diapers were all 
plastic back in those day so every time I would move the diaper would 
make a sound. Why they ever went to that awful cloth-like cover is 
beyond me. I stood there as she combed my hair. I was bushed and could 
have probably fallen asleep right there in front of that mirror. I 
think she knew this because she picked me up and carried me out to the 
couch and laid me down.
	I was nearly asleep when she came back into the room and gently 
lifted me up and carried me across the room. She sat in the rocking 
chair and cradled me in her arm. After she had rocked a couple minutes 
she reached down to the floor and grabbed something. I couldn't see 
what it was, but knew a few seconds later when she placed the nipple of 
the bottle in my mouth. I was far too tired to fight and so I just 
began to suck on it. It took a few moments to get the rhythm back but 
once I did I could taste the sweet chocolate milk as it came from the 
bottle. I decided it was kind of nice to lie there in aunt Tory's arm 
and drink chocolate milk from the bottle. I remember wetting the diaper 
and not even caring. I could feel the material in the diaper sucking it 
up, and unlike the hospital diaper I had no feeling of wetness. In fact 
the diaper felt just as good wet as it did dry, maybe better.
	I ended up staying with my aunt Tory for the rest of my 
childhood, in fact now that I am a young man I still stay with her. 
That summer she treated me as though I were her precious baby, but not 
every second. Just at bedtime I got bottle-fed and rocked to sleep. And 
she always changed my diapers. For aunt Tory the changing of a diaper 
was a big adventure. There was always lots of lotion, oil, or powder, 
usually two of the three were used but always at least one. She helped 
me to get used to wearing a diaper and the fact that I had to wear them 
all the time. If you're interested in hearing more about the summer 
that changed my life and how aunt Tory convinced me that it wasn't the 
diapers that made me pee my pants let me know. I could fill a book with 
the great things aunt Tory did for me my first summer as a loved human 
being.

My First Summer
The Next Day and Beyond

	Ever wake up in a strange or new place, and have that feeling of 
panic? Well, that is how I felt as I lay there that next morning 
listening to the birds chirping as if to say wake up James it's a brand 
new day. The sun was rising, casting a warm light through my bedroom 
window, when I suddenly realized that I didn't know where I was. That's 
when I got that panicky feeling. I sat bolt upright in the bed, or at 
least that is what my brain had told my body to do. But my stiff back 
seemed to have other plans as it let out a very audible cracking noise 
all the while sending a jolt of amazingly powerful pain signals up my 
spine into my brain. I heard myself let out a cry as I plopped back 
against the pillow. I could feel the tears as they ran down my cheek. I 
could only lay there and hold my breath and think "Fuck, that hurt!". I 
know, terrible language for such a small boy but it hurt enough to 
justify the use of the most powerful word in the English language.
	Aunt Tory must have heard me as she came darting into the room. I 
felt great relief at seeing as I suddenly remembered where I was. 
Somehow seeing her made the floodgates open and I begun to ball, huge, 
sobbing, cries. You know the kind that make your nose run and the spit 
drool down your lips, quite dramatic for a nine year old, but hey, I'd 
been through a lot in the last few weeks, so I was entitled.
	"James," asked Aunt Tory in a concerned voice, "What is it, 
honey?" She rushed to the bed and I held out my hands to her as though 
I were a toddler wanting to be comforted. I couldn't tell her that I 
was scared, in fact I didn't even know why I was balling so.
	She put one arm behind my back and gently slid into the bed 
beside me, wrapping her other hand around me and pulling me tight into 
her bosom. I was sobbing so violently that all the while I was jerking 
with each breathe.
	"My God, James, what is it?" she asked.
	She sounded as though she were about to cry as well.
	"is it your back, James?" she asked.
	Not wanting to let on that I was really overreacting, and in fact 
didn't even know why I was carrying on the way I was, I just nodded my 
head.
	Aunt Tory was a hell of a woman, still is actually. She lay there 
with her back against my headboard and stroked my hair and rubbed my 
back, all the while she was gently rocking me to and fro. It took me a 
few seconds to realize that she was singing to me, and a few more 
seconds to realize she was singing "Sweet Child of Mine" by Guns-N-
Roses. Was she cool or what, I mean, how many 30-something women do you 
know who listened to Guns-N-Roses? She would gently reach down and kiss 
me on the top of my head when she would pause for air. Hell, she knew 
the whole song by heart.
	When she finished singing her and I both realized I had stopped 
crying. She leaned back and held me at arms length and looked me in the 
eye.
	"Feel better?" she asked as she wiped a tear from my cheek with 
her free hand.
	"Yes," I said nodding feeling even dumber now than I had when I 
had been crying.
	"But my back and legs really hurt."
	"Well," she said as she got up, laying me back on my pillow as 
she stood up and straightened her shorts, let me just go and get your 
pill young master James." She winked and poked me in the chest as she 
spun around and left the room.
	I could hear in the other room and it sounded as though she were 
talking to someone. I could hear her and what sounded like another 
woman talking but I couldn't be sure. It seemed like quite awhile as I 
lay there waiting, the pounding in my back growing stronger with every 
pulse. It was as if it kept screaming at me that it wanted its medicine 
or else.
	Here she came, gallivanting into the room, pill in one hand and a 
glass of water in the other. All the while she had a big grin on her 
face, and dammit, you know, I couldn't help but feel the love as it 
seeped out of every pore in her body. I don't know, maybe it was just 
because she actually seemed to want me around, when everybody else I 
had ever known my whole life had acted as though I were the biggest 
nuisance. But I felt genuinely loved.
	"I forgot to tell you that Robby from next door came to see how 
you are this morning."
	It was like someone running the needle across a record as it 
play. The world just stopped spinning for a second, how long had he 
been there? Who was he? Why did he want to know how I was? And worse 
yet, did he hear me screaming and crying earlier? I got a huge knot in 
my stomach as well as a lump in my throat. I felt as though I might 
spew.
	"Who?" I asked befuddled.
	"Robby," was her reply with a smile as though I should know who 
he was.
	She held the pill close to my mouth and I opened it and allowed 
her to slide the pill into my mouth. She then held the glass to my lips 
as I sat up as best I could and held on too it with both hands. She 
held the glass with one hand and held her other hand under my chin as I 
took a sip. It tasted sweet. She pulled the glass back from my lips as 
I lie back and she produced a napkin from thin air and wiped my mouth 
and chin.
	"Yes," said I a little perturbed, " but who is he?"
	"Well," she began as she grabbed my ankles and gently pulled me 
towards the end of the bed, " he is my neighbor boy, he's ten and I let 
him swim in my pool, and do chores around here."
	Wait a second, did she just say pool? I'm pretty sure she did.
	She reached up and pulled one of the tapes on my pampers loose, 
then while holding onto the front of it with her free hand pulled the 
other one loose. She turned and grabbed the wipes as well as the powder 
and a diaper from the dresser.
	"I told him all about you." She said as she sat at the edge of 
the bed beside me.
	I grabbed her hand as she reached to pull down the front of my 
diaper.
	"Aunt Tory, I don't know what they told you at the hospital, but 
I don't need diapers. They just made me wear them."
	"Ok," she said with a nod. "so why do you keep peeing them?"
	That was a good question, but I really believed that the diapers 
had some kind of power, like that my brain thought that because I was 
wearing a diaper that I must use it.
	"Because it was convenient," I improvised.
	"So, you really don't need them?" she asked.
	I shook my head.
	"Well, you sure had me fooled."
	"Besides, I don't think Robby wants to see me in my diaper."
	"Ahh," she said as she stood up. "well let me see if I can find 
you some underpants then."
	She began to dig through the dresser drawers, but came up empty 
handed.
	"Well, it appears that we have none she said as she came back to 
the bed with a pair of khaki shorts.
	She pulled down the front of my diaper as she lay the shorts 
beside me. I could smell the gain laundry detergent on them, God I 
loved that smell. It reminded me of my old babysitters house, things 
were so nice there.
	"you realize of course, that if you really do need the diapers, 
that having Robby see you pee your pants is going to be a lot worse 
than seeing you in a diaper."
	But I, being the smarter of the two of us knew that I did not 
need diapers, said, "trust me Aunt Tory, it'll be fine."
	She gave me that look, you know the look, the one adults reserve 
for us "smart" kids who know more than they do. "if your sure, James"
	I nodded my head. I was certain.
	She pulled the old diaper out from under me and wiped me clean of 
urine with a baby wipe. She then grabbed the powder and dusted my front 
and wiped it in. not sure exactly why she did that, but it did feel 
nice. She then slid the shorts up my legs and jerked them past my butt, 
I didn't even have to lift up. It was a neat trick. She snapped them 
and pulled the zipper up, careful not to include anything in the teeth 
that didn't belong there. She then sat me forward, holding me up while 
she put a shirt over my head. It felt funny not wearing any underwear, 
and to have her dress me, but I felt confident that I would not have to 
wear anymore diapers.
	"Arms up," she said as she lowered the shirt over my head.
	I instinctively obeyed as she guided each arm into its respective 
sleeve. She then lay me back down and pulled socks onto each of my 
feet. She seemed to be enjoying this so I just let her carry on. 
Besides I wasn't too sure I would be able to reach my feet to get my 
socks on. She then stood up and walked to the closet where she got out 
a new pair of Nikes. Up until that point I had worn generic brands, but 
that ended the day I came to stay with Aunt Tory. She stood over me and 
stooped to put the shoes on my feet.
	Finished, she grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet slowly. I 
felt a bit wobbly, but I could walk, so while holding onto aunt Tories 
arm, I walked down through the hall towards the living room. My pill 
was finally starting to take affect, but I still ached quite badly. My 
footing was all out of whack, I can just imagine how I looked trying to 
walk down that hallway, one arm grasping Aunt Tory, the other swinging 
madly as I tried to use it for balance. My feet would lift, and shakily 
step forward, plopping down loudly as I took one small step after 
another. My feet would drag along the carpet as I pushed them forward 
in what felt like giant footsteps. I later discovered that I was a 
walking static electricity making machine, as long as I was walking on 
carpet. Every time Aunt Tory or anyone else would touch me after I had 
been walking on carpet, they would get shocked. I couldn't help it my 
feet dragged when I walked.
	When we finally reached the living room I saw him for the first 
time. He was sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees leaning 
forward. He looked about as nervous as I felt. He stood up as soon as 
we walked into the room and waved nervously.
	"Hi," he said as he let his arm plop back down to his side. He 
was kind of small for his age like me, only not as small. I thought if 
I really need to I could take him in a fight. If nothing else I could 
fall on him.
	"Hi," I said in a cracked voice. Boy walking sure took a lot out 
of me.
	I glanced around the room quickly to make sure there were no 
diapers, and especially not the bottle I had drunk from the night 
before, laying around. I wasn't even sure if I had dreamed that at that 
point or if it was real, but I knew I didn't want Robby to know.
	"I visit your Aunt Tory a lot," he said as he started to sit, 
then realized it was bad manners and stood back up.
	"So she said," I answered. "did I hear her correctly when she 
said you swim in her pool?"
	I heard Aunt Tory laugh as she guided me to the rocking chair I 
had lain in her lap on not more than 8 hrs. before. As she helped me 
into the chair I shot a glance at the floor and end table to make sure 
there was no bottle. The coast was clear.
	"Yeah," answered Robby, "we don't have a pool at my house, and 
since I'm gonna be on the swim team at the Y she lets me use her pool 
to practice."
	So it was true then, she did have a pool. I was stoked, I loved 
to swim but rarely got the chance.
	"You guys get acquainted while I make breakfast," chirped Aunt 
Tory.
	"Do you guys like French toast or eggs and bacon?"
	I looked at Robby and we agreed without a word.
	"French toast," we said in unison.
	We both looked at each other and laughed.
	"French toast it is," said Aunt Tory as she whirled around and 
headed for the kitchen.
	"You messed up your back pretty bad didn't you?" asked Robby. He 
was looking down at my crotch and around my backside as he said this. I 
think he was looking to see if I was wearing a diaper. I could feel my 
face grow hot as I felt betrayed by Aunt Tory, who must have told him.
	"Yeah," was all I could say.
	"Bummer," he replied as he sat back on the couch.
	We sat there getting acquainted while Tory made breakfast. We 
talked about the pool first then Nintendo. I discovered he and I shared 
the same game, Mike Tyson's Punch Out. He claimed he knew the cheat 
codes to get to Tyson, but I would have to see that with my own eyes to 
believe it. We talked and talked until shortly Aunt Tory came and 
announced breakfast. I was starting to like this Robby guy pretty 
quickly. He wasn't like the kids back home, he seemed sincere somehow. 
Robby even walked behind me as I made my slow journey to the kitchen, 
holding on to Aunt Tory for support, of course. By now my pill was 
working full force, and although I did not usually experience any of 
the goofy side affects associated with that particular pain pill, I did 
feel like it was eating away at my stomach. I needed food in my belly 
like quick.
	As we sat there eating, I might add that Aunt Tory's French toast 
was hands down the best I had ever eaten, I felt my legs and shorts get 
wet. I froze, then slowly let my head drop so I could see the 
unmistakable wet spot on the front of my shorts. Oddly enough the first 
few seconds I was more devastated by the fact that my new Nikes had 
just gotten drenched with piss, than I was at the fact I had just wet 
myself. I had only gotten a two-second warning, if that. Not much of a 
warning really, just the feeling of the urine running through my 
urethra, then out onto whatever I may be wearing at the time. Then it 
dawned on me that Robby and Aunt Tory knew, after all you could here 
the pee as it hit the floor, then the drip drip drip as it pooled below 
my seat. Of course I am sure it sounded much louder in my ears than it 
really was. I was mortified, I still had food in my mouth, but could 
not find enough saliva to swallow it. I could feel my butt getting wet 
and warm as it pooled in the chair under me. I felt one solitary tear 
run down my cheek.
	God bless Robby, though, and Aunt Tory as well, but Robby proved 
in that moment that he was indeed the best friend I could or would ever 
find.
	"You know, James," he said," I have a Nintendo at my house, and I 
am sure my mom would let me bring it over. We could hook it up and play 
Mike Tyson's Punch Out." I'll go and get it after I finish my 
breakfast."
	I felt another tear, then another as they rolled down my cheeks. 
How could I have just wet my pants? I wasn't even wearing a stupid 
diaper. I was dumbfounded.
	"That's a great idea, Robbie, I'm sure James would like to play 
Nintendo." Said Aunt Tory as she looked over and winked at me. Her hand 
felt warm as it landed on top of mine and gently rubbed my hand and 
arm. I still could not find the saliva to swallow my food, so I just 
chewed it while the tears rolled down my cheek. I look back now and 
understand that the pain pills had me a little mixed up inside, causing 
me to become an emotional mess. But at that time I just felt like a big 
blubbering baby who had just peed his pants in front of his new friend.
	Robby finished his food rather quickly, I think he felt a little 
uncomfortable sitting there. He looked over at Aunt Tory and she told 
him he could be excused.
	She got up and walked him to the side door off the kitchen. She 
stepped outside with him and I could hear her talking to Robby. I 
couldn't make out what all she was saying but I heard Robby say why 
didn't he just wear a diaper. More tears on my part as I slammed my 
elbow onto the table and rested my head on my hand. I could hear Aunt 
Tory loud and clear now. "well Robby, he was worried you wouldn't like 
him if you knew he had to wear diapers."
	"That's silly," I could hear Robby say, "it's not his fault those 
jerks did that to him."
	I had to take a deep breathe, I think I was gonna like this Robby 
guy.
	"Don't hurry back too quickly, I'm sure James will want a bath as 
well as a minute to get himself together, that is somewhat embarrassing 
for him to pee himself in front of his new friend."
	I could hear him walking off, "Robert," called Aunt Tory, "you 
handled that very gallantly."
	"Thanks," I heard him say as he walked off.
	Aunt Tory came back into the kitchen and I just glared at her, I 
felt betrayed by her, if she had made me wear the diaper I wouldn't 
have pissed my pants.
	"Don't give me that look," she said in a sweet voice, " I tried 
to tell you, but you wanted to be right, and I had to let you see."
	She was right but it didn't make me feel any better. She sat down 
and finished her French toast.
	"Come on, eat up, he'll be back soon and now your gonna need a 
bath."
	I finished my French toast but it had lost it's delectable 
flavor.
	After my meal she helped me to the bathroom where she had run a 
bath of water for me while I finished my meal. She helped me out of my 
clothes and into the tub. She must have seen the look on my face for 
she asked "what is it James?"
	"I hate taking baths, I always take a shower."
	"Well, I cannot get in the shower with you so you'll have to take 
a bath for now."
	She had a point, but I didn't have to like it. She again repeated 
the bathing ritual with me, careful to wash every bit of my epidermis, 
even that which no one could see.
	She then carried me towel and all into the bedroom where she lay 
me on the bed. She grabbed a diaper and the baby lotion and powder from 
the dresser. She opened the baby lotion and squeezed a big glob onto 
her hand. I could smell its sweet smell almost instantly, don't tell 
anyone, but I loved that smell, almost as much as the smell of the 
powder. It made me feel so secure. She rubbed her hands together then 
rolled me over so she could rub it into my bum, she did a very thorough 
job, making sure it was all rubbed in, then rolled me back over and 
repeated the process in the front. I didn't mind her touching my 
genitals too much, after all she was performing a needed task for the 
well being of my skin. After the lotion came powder which just the 
smell of it got my heart to beating faster. Then she slid the diaper 
under me and pulled it up in front. There was that feeling again, 
Heaven! Man I had to put my hand on my face to cover my smile, I loved 
the way those pampers smelled and felt. I could feel my heart beat a 
little faster, the sound of the tapes opening and then sticking to the 
front of the printed panel, one by one, like music to my ears.
	She stood me up in front of the mirror again as she balanced me 
and reached for the brush. This time she handed it to me, which kind of 
was a disappointment to me, as I was getting used to her doing 
everything for me. I haphazardly combed my hair, doing a less than 
perfect job. When I was finished she took the brush from me and ran it 
through my hair one time, causing my hairs to magically go into their 
rightful spots, viola, a perfectly combed head of hair. Man she was 
cool. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and accidentally thought 
I looked really cool in just a diaper. I started to walk out to the 
living room, which caught Aunt Tory off guard as she almost stumbled 
trying to hold me up as I nearly fell myself.
	"James," she called, "Don't you want some shorts over your 
diaper?"
	"Oops," I said, "I thought I looked so cool in just my diaper." I 
clamped my mouth shut, but it was too late, I could feel my cheeks 
getting hot as I am sure they turned bright red. Had I just said that? 
Had she heard me? Yes she had, I know she had, she was smiling as she 
pulled me up straight and into the bedroom. She led me to the bed so I 
could sit on the corner while she got me some clothes. Sitting without 
something to lean on was way too painful so I lay back with a thud, my 
head just missing the wall, I could feel my hair brush it as I went 
down. I placed my hands over my eyes, I could not believe I had just 
said that.
	After Aunt Tory got me dressed, producing yet a second pair of 
identical Nikes, she took me to the living room where she set my wheel 
chair up in front of the television. I could hear the Pampers sing as I 
took each step, the crinkle music in my ears when no one else was a 
round, and a curse when there was. I hated myself but I was really 
starting to love those pampers. They were so soft, and so good-looking 
I could barely contain the excitement of my good fortune at being able 
to wear them ALL THE TIME.
	I sat there and waited for Robby to get back, excited by the fact 
that I would be wearing a diaper, and my new friend would surely know, 
yet feeling a bit apprehensive at the same time.
	Sorry but that is all for today as it is very late and I can 
barely see straight, I am sorry to have made everyone wait so long for 
the continuance of the story, but I feel it was worth it. I promise not 
to make you wait so long for further installments of this ever growing 
saga. If you feel the story needs something please feel free to inform 
me and I will do my best to accommodate you. Until then this blurry 
eyed yarn weaver is going to bed.
	Good night and good reading.

p.s.
Keep your powder dry J

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

	Please do not change, modify or use this story without express 
written permission from the author. please inform Deeker if you are 
interested in hearing more and he can contact me.

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(The following information requested is optional, though your participation is highly encouraged.)
Name:
Age: <8 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 >18
What diapers do you wear? Cloth Disposable Multiple Underpants I do not wear diapers
Are your diapers plain white? Always Usually Sometimes Rarely Never I do not wear diapers
Do you wear multiple diapers? Always Usually Sometimes Rarely Never I do not wear diapers
Are you pantsless at home while in diapers? Always Usually Sometimes Rarely Never I do not wear diapers
How do you use your diapers? Pee Poop
Who else in your family has read this story? Mother Father Older Brother Younger Brother Older Sister Younger Sister
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