MY MOTHER'S VIEW OF DISCIPLINE

	My very first discipline with diapers experience is 
one I do not remember. Mother told me I had been out of 
diapers for a year or so and did something to call for a 
spanking. This would have made me about three years old. 
Mother told how she pulled my pants down and put me across 
her lap. After a couple spanks I lost control of my pee-
pee. Perhaps I needed to pee-pee or possibly it was due to 
pain and fear, but anyway I wet on her lap.
	She was not pleased and I had to be punished. Mother 
was also afraid that I would "piddle" later and damage 
furniture so she put me back into diapers for a few days. 
She said that I did not seem to mind and would tell her 
when I had to go. When you are three years old diapers are 
nothing to be concerned about and wearing them did even 
register in my memory. Soon the episode was history because 
I stayed dry and the diapers were put back to use on my 
ten-month-old baby brothers.
	However, I can vividly remember diapers when I was 
four and a half years old. I experienced my mother's brand 
of discipline. It was simple, direct, and intense 
humiliation! In later years mother would call it, "diaper 
discipline."
	She would with great satisfaction relate my 
transgressions and resultant punishments to my playmates. 
Then she would point out that misbehaving children were 
really only babies who should be dressed and treated as the 
babies they are. She would to say this to me in the hearing 
of my friends and playmates on many future occasions.
	My first and most traumatic disciplining event took 
place one summer evening when our home was scheduled to be 
the scene of a festive gathering of family and close 
friends.
	Most of my cousins and their families were coming and 
several close neighbor families with their children as 
well. We were going to have a house full of people and a 
wonderful time. Everyone I knew in the world was coming.
	My mother got me all dressed up in good clothes and 
sent me out into our big fenced-in back yard to entertain 
myself and wait for the guests to arrive. Above all, I was 
to stay neat and clean until the people would start 
arriving. I remember being very excited and happy about the 
occasion.
	But while at the far back fence I happened to look 
down at the front of my pants and although I had no history 
of pants wetting it had just happened. Horror stricken, I 
noticed a dark wet blotch growing on the front of my nicely 
ironed light blue short pants. I had been completely 
unaware of wetting.
	It was a busy time for my mother as supper must have 
been about ready to serve. She was making the final 
adjustments and putting the last minute touches to the 
table before serving. The guests were to soon arrive.
	When I went back up to the back porch my doubtlessly 
harried mother saw my wet pants and told me that I was to 
come with her. Since I had acted like a baby I certainly 
needed to be dressed like a baby. She said words I have 
heard in my memory all my life since then, "Since you want 
to act like a baby I am going to have to dress you like a 
baby."
	I needed consolation and reassurance but I got 
condemnation. I was taken into my nearly two and a half-
year-old baby brothers' room and placed upon the changing 
table.
	There she removed my shoes and socks, my shirt, then 
my shorts and underpants. Naked, I felt the cool air on my 
wet bottom and the coolness of the washcloth as she 
prepared to diaper me. She fastened a strap over me, as I 
lay on the table naked. Crying, I begged her not to put 
diapers on me. After all, the other children would see me 
and I was a big boy of four and a half. I begged to no 
avail.
	I felt her left hand take hold of both my ankles and 
lift them up as the diapers were placed under my behind. 
She put me down on the diapers and then oiled and powdered 
me. Then I felt the softness of the diapers being pulled up 
between my legs and her hand's strength as she pinned my 
diapers up on either side. I begged for her to take the 
diapers off me, but she said, "no, let's go." She then 
picked me up and stood me up on my bare feet on the cool 
wood floor while taking my hand in hers to lead me out to 
greet the first of our guests.
	I must have cried until I became hysterical because 
all I remember for the rest of the afternoon and evening is 
people laughing at me. I cried and tried to hold myself so 
that my diapers could not be seen. Good luck to me on that. 
"I thought that you were a big boy," was said frequently.
	The evening is mercifully a blur but I believe that I 
was taken to the potty, changed and put to bed when 
everyone tired of hearing my desperate crying. I must have 
cried myself to sleep. Mother later on told me that I was 
told not to wet my diapers that night and that if I did I 
would be changed into dry diapers in the morning. I would 
not get any big boy clothes back `until I was no longer a 
baby."
	I was dry the next morning but crushed in spirit and 
filled with embarrassment. My mother now knew what 
punishment I most feared. My father used to be the one who 
punished me but now his spankings were easy by comparison 
to mother's discipline. Now she clearly knew how to control 
me.
	I was diapered and threatened with diapers at times 
after that. But I was diapered only infrequently and for 
short periods over the next few years.
	I am sure now that my mother told others of my fear 
and her easy way to control me. One of the people she told 
must have been our good neighbor lady, Mrs. Jones.
	I was seven and a half years of age the next time I 
remember a particularly outstanding experience with 
diapers. My mother was to take my two brothers to town; 
(doctor's office and other proceedings, etc.) were to take 
all day.
	I was to stay with Mrs. Jones and her two girls: my 
playmate of seven, Jean, and her younger sister, a two and 
a half-year-old baby, named Susan. I liked Jean and had 
never teased her as many of the other kids had about her 
middle name, "Morton." "Morton" had been her mother's 
maiden name. I didn't care and thought she was a nice girl. 
Pretty too!
	I walked across the street to their house from mine as 
my parents drove off taking my two younger twin brothers. 
Dad was going to work and mother and my brothers to their 
day's doings. Dad's car disappeared up the street and out 
of sight. That car and its occupants would not return until 
day's end.
	The first fun thing for us to do that sunny morning 
was a trip to the swimming pool down at the city park. 
Arriving at the park we walked over to a nearby picnic area 
that was handy to the pool. Jean immediately stripped off 
her clothes. She stepped into her bathing suit but Mrs. 
Jones had to help with her swimsuit. Her suit zipped up in 
the back and Jean could not do it herself. All zipped up, 
her mother sent Jean off to play at the pool that was about 
30 feet away.
	All dressing was done outdoors as there were no 
dressing rooms for little kids because this pool was for 
babies and pre-school children. Next she placed her baby, 
after her diapers had been removed and laid on the table, 
into a training panty with baby pictures (like bunnies and 
bears, etc.) printed on them. Susan was placed into the 
custody of a teenage girl who was the "lifeguard" there at 
the little children's' pool.
	This left Mrs. Jones alone with me. I did not have a 
bathing suit and thought when she started to undress me 
that she had a suit for me too. This was great because I 
loved the water and wanted to join in the fun with the 
other children. I had not been forgotten after all.
	After removing my shoes and socks and tee shirt, she 
laid me down on a green painted picnic bench. I felt my 
pants and underwear being removed and soon the old familiar 
left handed grip on both my ankles at once. She lifted my 
bottom and I felt the softness of Susan's two diapers 
folded together being placed under me.
	I must have clouded up to cry for she said, "Don't 
cry! I am baby sitting you today. That means you must be a 
baby. All babies wear diapers and since you are a baby you 
are supposed to wear diapers."
	I was now able to stifle the urge to cry because I 
knew that crying would not help me but only draw attention 
to me. I didn't want the other children and their mothers 
to notice the diapers I would soon have on. Especially 
since the diapers she was putting on me were the very ones 
she had just taken off the two-and-a-half year old baby 
girl and refolded a little to fit me.
	After she drew the diapers up between my legs and 
pinned them she told me that I looked "so cute." Taking my 
hand she led me over to the pool and helped me in and I sat 
down as soon as I could in water deep enough to cover up 
the diapers.
	Two other mothers there kindly smiled at me but said 
nothing to me as I sat down in the pool. They doubtlessly 
thought it a bit unusual for a boy my age to be still in 
diapers and presumably not be potty-trained. However, none 
of the other children said anything to me about my diapers 
or even seemed to notice them.
	The other children, two boys of about four and five 
years of age and five girls ranging in age from two, three 
and five, and two my age, splashed in the water while I 
just sat there covering up my diapers. I must have been in 
shock.
	Later one lady left with her children and in a short 
while so did the other mother. That left only the Jones 
children and me. When it became time for us to go Mrs. 
Jones first called my seven-year-old playmate out of the 
pool and helped her out of her swimsuit. Jean dried off and 
put on her regular play clothes. Next Mrs. Jones took the 
baby out and dried her off putting her into some dry 
diapers.
	It was customary for babies and diaper-aged children 
to wear only their diapers and nothing else in the summer. 
The little girl was put under the care of her big sister. 
Now, it was my turn to get out of the pool and waddle over 
to the bench in my waterlogged diapers. I stumbled as I 
tried to get out of the pool when she called me. The 
lifeguard asked if I was okay and I told her I was.
	Was I ever embarrassed - in wet diapers in front of 
all these girls. The diapers were really so heavy that 
their weight surprised me. With water pouring out of my 
diapers I could hardly walk in them. The girls were very 
interested when they saw me and came with me to their 
mother.
	I toddled over to her and Mrs. Jones dried me off down 
to the top of my diapers. She brushed my hair to the side 
with her hand and then laid the towel on the bench and told 
me to lie down on it. She unpinned my sopped diapers and 
removed them leaving me embarrassed and naked before the 
girls' view. Mrs. Jones said, "that never in her life had 
she seen a baby in a wetter pair of diapers."
	She then finished drying me and then loudly said that 
since it was such a nice day she would just give me two 
more nice dry diapers to wear and that way I wouldn't have 
to worry about getting my big boy clothes dirty at play 
back home. She had the girls help her with the oil and 
powder on my diaper area then she diapered me. The two and 
a half year-old asked me if I was a baby while pointing to 
my diapers. I am sure she was curious because she, as a 
toddler, associated diapers with babies. I was too big, she 
figured, to be a baby but if I wore diapers then I must be 
a baby anyway. I almost lost it and started to cry but I 
didn't cry. We went back to the car and climbed into the 
back seat and Mrs. Jones put all our stuff into the front 
seat. My playmate, Jean, was told to "watch the babies".
	I was feeling keen embarrassment but refusing to cry 
and in my mind justify Mrs. Jones' babying of me. When we 
got back to the house Mrs. Jones took the little girl with 
her and my playmate led me by the hand into the house.
	My playmate, Jean, insisted that both babies must be 
thirsty so bottles were made and given to both us "babies." 
I drank my bottle down as it had Pepsi cola in it and I 
liked Pepsi. Giving me a fresh baby bottle of Pepsi Jean 
and I went out into her large stockade-fenced back yard to 
play. When I finished that bottle Jean got me yet another 
bottle of Pepsi to guzzle down. I didn't think about the 
Pepsi's effect on my bladder. I just liked the taste.
	After about an hour, it must have been about 10:00 
a.m. Jean and I went to the back screen door and asked Mrs. 
Jones if we could come in to use the bathroom. She told me, 
"you are wearing diapers. You have to do pee-pee in your 
diapers- that's what they are for." I told her I had to 
both pee-pee and poop and she again told me that was what 
my diapers were for. Jean was allowed in to use the 
bathroom because "Jean is not a baby in diapers."
	I tried to hold it in but soon the Pepsi began to 
work. As I was stooping down playing in the sandbox the 
warm pee-pee started coming. Just a few drops at first but 
soon the floodgate opened and I started to soak my diapers. 
I couldn't stop it. At first the diapers contained it 
turning yellow in front but soon pee-pee was coming out 
through the fabric in the front of my diapers and then in 
rivulets down my legs. Pee-pee splashed down from my crotch 
and splattered my legs. The sand then stuck to my feet and 
lower legs. I never knew that diapers would leak like that. 
My diapers were simply overwhelmed. Sand stuck to me where 
I was wet and made me really look and feel like a little 
baby and then I had to poop before I knew what was 
happening. I will never forget the feeling of the back of 
the diaper being filled and the resistance the diapers gave 
to my bowel movement. I wanted to run and hide.
	All I knew was that I was wearing a soaked and pooped 
diaper in front of my girlfriend. She scolded me for being 
such a baby. She called out, "Jimmy's got dirty diapers, 
Jimmy's got dirty diapers" and called her mom who came out 
and led me back into the kitchen with diapers still 
dripping as I went. There on the linoleum kitchen floor she 
laid me down on top of a towel for a changing pad and 
unpinned my diapers. She cleaned me up having the girls 
help her. I think she used a bath towel as she cleaned me.
	I remember that the baby held my diaper pins and the 
powder for her mother to use on me. I was so embarrassed to 
have to be babied like that in front of both girls. With a 
wash cloth or two she cleaned me up from the waist down to 
between my sandy toes. I was a mess for sure. I was then 
taken to the bathroom where I could be washed up the rest 
of the way in the tub.
	Again the girls had helped their mother clean, powder, 
and change my diapers. Little two and half year old Susan's 
job was to powder my bottom. She ended up getting powder 
all over me.
	I was now given a fourth baby bottle full of Pepsi. In 
an hour or so I was called back into the house to see if I 
was dry. "We don't want our big baby to get a 'dydee' rash 
on his bottom, do we?" I was dry but my diapers were 
changed anyway. Mrs. Jones touched the front of my diapers 
giving me feelings that I had never had before. I liked the 
rubbing motion that she did on the front of my diapers. I 
remember the intense pleasure and then the peace. After 
more play with Jean's little cars and toys in the sandbox 
it was time for lunch. I remember being careful sitting 
down in the sandbox because I would get sand into my 
diapers and that hurt.
	Mrs. Jones called and asked Jean to check the baby's 
and my diapers and see if either of us had wet. She put her 
hand down the front of each set of our diapers and then 
pronounced us dry to her mother. It tickled when Jean 
reached down the front of my diapers and I pulled away from 
her but she felt enough to know that I was dry. I was 
beginning to like the ready sexual familiarity I was 
experiencing although it never occurred to me that it was 
all one way. I never got to touch either of the girls 
although it never occurred to me at the time. But it was 
nice getting their attention. Maybe wearing diapers and 
having girls take care of you could have a good side...
	Soon it was time for lunch. The baby was fed and put 
into her crib first. Then Jean and I were called in. Jean's 
place was set for a big kid, but mine had a baby plate and 
baby bottle. The ceramic plate was pink and had worn out 
pictures of baby things on it. The plate was hollow and was 
supposed to be filled with hot water and keep baby's food 
hot. It was thick and the surface was divided into three 
sections. But, things were to get worse...
	The high chair was still there from the baby and I was 
lifted into it and belted in. Jean teased me a little and 
her mother stopped her by telling her that she "had enough 
diapers to put her back into diapers, too, if she couldn't 
be good." I was put into a bib and spoon-fed my food by 
Mrs. Jones. My sandwich was cut up baby style. I felt so 
babyish sitting in a high chair, wearing only a diaper and 
bib and being fed with a big spoon that held lot more baby 
food than I could swallow. This meant a lot of it got 
smeared around my mouth and chin. I really needed a wash-up 
after eating.
	After lunch I again told Mrs. Jones that I needed to 
go pee-pee. She again refused to let me go to the bathroom. 
She now knew I was a heavy wetter so she tried to put a 
pair of the baby's waterproof panties on me.
	I was just a little too big for the baby's panties. 
She was afraid that the bottom snaps on her panties would 
tear so Mrs. Jones got some extra diapers and put them 
under me there in the highchair. I had to stay there until 
I wet and fortunately Pepsi cola has always gone through me 
quickly. I wet my diapers and probably all the diapers she 
put under my diapers.
	Again after being ridiculed for being such a big baby, 
I was washed, oiled, powdered, and re-diapered and taken 
into her bedroom for a nap. "All babies take naps," she 
said. Just as a precaution so I would not wet her bed she 
had me nap on top of a big raincoat. This made sense 
diapered as I was with no waterproof panties.
	As she put me on the bed for naptime she again rubbed 
the front of my diapers. Again I felt pleasure as before. I 
am sure I experienced another dry orgasm again.
	My diapers were changed several more times that day 
but I only wet once more that afternoon. I did not tell her 
I was going to wet that time; I just went ahead and wet. I 
sat down under the big tree we were playing under and let 
my diapers leak into the grass. I squeezed my legs together 
and forced as much pee-pee out of my wet diapers as would 
go.
	I wore my wet diapers for a long time until they began 
to be cold and uncomfortable. I had to wet again and as I 
was soaking my diapers Jean noticed and came over to me. 
Then we went to the back door and told Mrs. Jones that I 
was wet and needed to be changed. Each time of change was 
made into a lesson for the girls in male anatomy. My 
"spigot" was the thing of the day.
	I was also changed each time the baby had her diapers 
changed. She may have pinned the same dry diapers on me 
that she had just taken off me. I do not know. I had my 
diapers changed frequently all afternoon and I found that I 
was enjoying being babied more and more. Ashamed at first I 
was now enjoying the diapers and the feelings I got from 
them. Especially when Mrs. Jones rubbed the front of my 
diapers for me.
	I liked the smell of the baby powder and the intimate 
attentions of the girls as well. Jean especially liked to 
"check me for wetness." We played "Mommy and baby" and you 
know who the baby was. I started to enjoy riding in the 
baby buggy and being babied. Jean would open my diaper pins 
and pretended to change me. I really liked the experience.
	Late in the day, probably about five thirty p.m., I 
was again called in and told that it was time for me to get 
ready to go home. Mrs. Jones removed my diapers and I was 
given a "sponge bath" on my diaper areas to remove any oil 
and powder residues. Given back my clothes I got dressed in 
my big boy clothes. Mrs. Jones helped me dress as if I did 
not know what went where. I never told my mother or anyone 
about what happened to me that day. There were two reasons: 
first I was afraid that I would not be believed - and 
secondly and probably worse yet - told that I had only 
gotten what I deserved - being dressed and treated like the 
little baby that I was. I knew better than to expect 
sympathy from my mother. Strangely, Jean never teased me 
about that day or even mentioned it for a long time, maybe 
a month or more.
	One sunny afternoon Jean and I were out playing 
together and she said that she wanted to play "mommy, 
daddy, and baby" with me. I told her no way, that I was not 
a baby and wasn't going to play like one. Jean then told me 
that if I didn't let her baby me first that she would tell 
all our friends about me wearing diapers that day. A few 
days later she brought the subject up again and told me 
that she wanted to play baby with me right then and to come 
with her. She took me into her baby sister's bedroom and 
told me she wanted to put a diaper on me and give me a 
bottle. I was scared of being caught but pulled my pants 
off and lay down on Susan's bed to be diapered. While she 
was powdering and pinning my diaper Jean said that we would 
play "daddy and baby" next and it would be my turn to 
diaper her and give her a bottle. She diapered me and then 
I pulled my shorts on over the diaper. My shorts easily 
came back up over the one diaper Jean had pinned on me. We 
then went by the kitchen where she went to the refrigerator 
and got a bottle of formula to feed to me in the back yard. 
I had the bottle about half done when we heard her mother 
coming and hid the bottle behind the sandbox.
	Mrs. Jones asked what we were doing and Jean told her 
we were playing and looking at a magazine. A "Life" 
magazine happened to be there on a big wooden chair. Mrs. 
Jones told Jean that I had to leave right then because they 
were going to Raleigh to go shopping. Mrs. Jones left to 
get the baby ready and Jean slipped in and got me my 
underpants back but I had to leave still wearing the 
diaper. I was to drop the diaper back over the fence when I 
could get out of it. I went into the woods and took the 
diaper off and put my underpants back on and started back 
home. On the way back from the woods I tossed the diaper 
over their fence so it would look like Susan had just 
carried it there. We never played baby again. I guess that 
our close call at being caught by her mom cured Jean of any 
more attempts at blackmailing me. Besides, it would have 
been her turn to be the baby next time.
	Time goes by and my mother does a lot of threatening 
but diapers me probably once or twice a year until I was 
ten. At the age of ten I was home alone with mother and 
failed to obey her fast enough in cleaning up my room. She 
gave me fair warning but I forgot and was punished with 
diapers again. I was told to take my clothes off and go lie 
down on my bed. Mother soon appeared with the diapers and 
soon had them folded for me. I was then told to raise my 
rear and the diapers were placed under me. As she diapered 
me she gave me the speech about acting like a baby and 
being dressed like a baby. A little powder and then she 
brought the diapers up between my legs and pinned them. I 
then cleaned my room and stayed there. The thing that made 
this punishment noteworthy was that midway through the 
morning I was told to go to our neighbor's house three 
houses down and fetch a bag of tomatoes and squash for my 
mother.
	I asked if I could wear shorts over the diapers but I 
should have known better than to ask for mercy - there 
would be no mercy! Mother just laughed at me and told me to 
get going. I left the house by the back porch door and made 
my way to the neighbor's house by the back yards so no one 
would see the diapers I was wearing.
	I knocked on the door but it seemed to me that Mrs. 
Hughes was taking forever to come to the door. When she saw 
me she let me inside quickly and was very amused to see me. 
Giggling she had me explain why I was still wearing diapers 
during the day at the age of ten. I explained that I was 
being punished. She gave me a sugar cookie and in baby talk 
and tones said, " that everything would be okay because 
punishments make us better." I am not sure what she meant.
	Mrs. Hughes had the tomatoes and stuff together in a 
paper bag for me but phoned my mother to ask if it would be 
all right if she fed me a little snack with her child. My 
mother obviously agreed and I was told to go sit by the 
playpen beside the sofa. In a few moments she returned with 
her ten-month old daughter and put her in her carrier in 
the playpen. I was then told to sit in the playpen too. The 
baby was given her gum soother from the refrigerator and I 
was given a little bottle of apple juice. I told her I was 
not a baby and did not use bottles. She told me that "since 
I wore baby diapers I could certainly drink from baby 
bottles." I was told to drink it all down and be nice and 
obey or she would have to pull my diapers down and give me 
a "panking." She said she would tell my mother that " I had 
been a naughty baby at her house."
	Mrs. Hughes teased me a lot. As soon as I could I 
finished the little bit of juice in the bottle and asked to 
leave. I was then given some animal crackers to eat. She 
told me I was a "good little boy" when they were gone. 
After I finished my four animal crackers she asked if I was 
thirsty. I told her I was but that I didn't want another 
baby bottle - even a little one like I had drunk.
	She then helped me up out of the playpen and sat me on 
her lap on the sofa. She explained that her baby was 
teething and had been unable to nurse for the past few 
days. Her breasts were sore and leaking from too much 
pressure. She gently laid my head back and from her 
unbuttoned blouse popped a nipple in my mouth before I knew 
what was happening. She told me to nurse it very gently. I 
did as she said and warm sweet fluid just shot into my 
mouth. In a few minutes I got the hang of it and just 
sucked away and listened to her heartbeat. In a little 
while "it was time," she said, "to do the other side." This 
breast was easier to nurse than the first because it had 
already started to leak enough for her to have to hold a 
spare diaper over the nipple to save her blouse.
	Suddenly, I felt some wetness in my diapers. She felt 
me wet, too, and told me it was okay. She told me that her 
baby often did "wettu'ms" during feeding times and that it 
was only natural. She told me not to worry about wetting on 
her lap and hand. I didn't wet all that much. She said it 
was her fault because she knew I didn't have any plastic 
panties on - just my diapers. She told me I could stop 
nursing in just a few more minutes. Soon the nursing was 
done to her satisfaction and she was happy. I stopped and 
she tucked her breast back into her special front opening 
bra and buttoned her blouse.
	I could not help crying about wetting my diapers so 
she asked me if I wanted her to change me and I told her 
"yes, please, because I am wet and will get in trouble with 
my mother for wetting." Mrs. Hughes then told me to lie 
down on the sofa and she would change my diapers and my 
mother would not be told I had wet since I had been so nice 
to her.
	She unpinned my wet diapers and washed my front with a 
wash cloth. She said she was not used to "diapering babies 
my size" so she used the diapers she took off me as a 
pattern by which to fold and pin the dry ones. She then 
placed the fresh pair of Curity 21x40 diapers under me. A 
little powder and then she and pinned me up. After she 
changed me she "checked" my diapers with her hand "to see 
if my diapers were too loose." All done with my diaper 
change she tossed my wet diapers in a pail near the 
playpen. In baby talk she told me to "be careful going 
home" just like I was a real two year old.
	I took off for home returning without anyone seeing 
me. On the way home I fully realized that I had nursed that 
lady's breasts and I felt very babyish and embarrassed. I 
know I must have blushed beet red all over. Lucky for me my 
mother never suspected anything probably figuring that I 
was just embarrassed about wearing the diapers outside.
	Mother asked me what I had for my snack and I told her 
"some apple juice, milk, and animal crackers." I didn't 
dare lie to her but I didn't volunteer any other 
information. I don't think she knew about the bottle and 
breast and I never wanted to give her any ideas. By the 
time for lunch was over my bladder was full from all the 
milk I had gotten from Mrs. Hughes but I was able to hold 
it and not wet my diapers.
	Once I fell out of a pine tree and knocked the pee-pee 
out of myself and wet my pants but mother took that in 
stride and did not diaper me for that wetting. She must 
have figured that the pain I was in was punishment enough.
	I usually was dressed only in diapers during 
discipline but I remember once at the age of eleven she 
weakened and mercifully let me wear a tee shirt with my 
diapers. It was early spring and she probably did not want 
me getting sick. I was grateful for the shirt because it 
was long enough to cover up the top half of my diapers and 
it helped keep me warm. I could even stick my knees up 
under the shirtfront when I sat down. I can't remember what 
I did this time to make my way back into diapers again.
	As I remember this session lasted most of the day and 
I was afraid that my little brothers would see me. I stayed 
under the house or in my room, as mother would allow until 
she finally took the diapers off me.
	She believed in diaper discipline for a variety of 
things: for sassing her, for bed or pants wetting, or 
saying that I didn't like any new food, not obeying 
quickly, or lying. From the age of seven until thirteen my 
diaperings were most usually for bedwetting, except once 
for disobedience and once for sassing.
	For sassing mother, and I can't remember what I did or 
said, but I was volunteered by my mother to be the Baby New 
Year at our neighborhood association's New Year's Eve 
party.
	This was when I was twelve years old. All my dread and 
fear of being punished in front of the whole neighborhood 
turned out to be groundless. In fact, the days of dread 
turned out to be my only punishment for whatever my crime 
had been. Mother would tease me telling me she had not yet 
decided whether she would diaper me at the party or 
privately beforehand at home or whether or not I would be 
in diapers all the following New Year's Day.
	I had visions of her putting me into my diapers on 
right on stage. As it worked out, she diapered me there at 
the school in the ladies' restroom. She led me by the hand 
into the ladies' room and told me to take my clothes off 
and lie down on a big brown leather sofa. No one came in 
the room while she diapered me. I felt fortunate because I 
was afraid one of the girls would come in and get to watch 
mother diaper her little baby.
	The occasion turned out to be a fizzle as a 
punishment. Well diapered I walked with mother down the 
hall dressed in a top hat, sash, and five diapers (she 
wanted them thick and bulky) toward the auditorium. I was 
in great fear of being seen but it quickly became apparent 
that every one thought of my diapers as only a part of my 
New Year celebration costume. Besides, some of the other 
boys said that they wanted a turn to wear the diapers, too.
	Being quick witted, I turned a potentially 
embarrassing situation to my favor. The boys were filled 
with curiosity. They wanted to know what the diapers felt 
like and if I could go to the bathroom in them. I was a 
sort of a celebrity at the party.
	Even the girls thought I was brave and cool to wear 
real baby diapers to play Baby New Year. They teased and 
asked if they could change my diapers for me. "Sure," I 
told them but I am still dry, but I'll call you when I am 
wet." I would have liked for them to have changed me but I 
knew my mother never would let any girls my age or even 
close change me. No one would change me but her. Besides, I 
was not about to wet and incur her wrath if I could help 
it.
	Interestingly, I noticed that my best friend, Tommy, 
seemed just fascinated and could not take his eyes off my 
diapers. Tommy knew that I wore diapers as punishment from 
time to time and told me that I was lucky to have a mother 
who would put diapers on me. When we became thirteen he 
later got to enjoy the "luck" with me. I suppose I did cut 
a dashing figure in my diapers, top hat, and New Year sash 
handing out candy and party favors to everyone and calling 
out, "Happy New Year."
	When the program was over and we went the few blocks 
back home and I was put to bed. I was still in my diapers 
and was told that if they were wet in the morning I would 
get a change and have to wear them all day. Again, I was 
dry in the morning when she came in to check me. I had 
purposely not had anything to drink at the party for fear 
of this. I remember trying to sleep with all those diapers 
on. It was surprisingly hard to find a comfortable position 
and also to get calmed down from the New Year's party.
	My diaper sessions were usually done in private 
between mother and me, but she would rarely miss an 
opportunity to embarrass me. She would tell my friends on 
occasion of what she had done to me in times gone by. They 
would be regaled at my expense. At least they did not know 
or even suspect that my punishments with diapers yet 
continued.
	As a teen most of my diaperings came about when I 
would wet and try to hide the wet bedclothes in the washer. 
Mother would catch me and tell me to load the washer and go 
to my room and take my pants off and wait for her. I didn't 
wet that often but mother would make a "federal case" out 
of each and every occurrence.
	I would know what was coming but she would keep me in 
anxiety for a while then she would come into my room with a 
few diapers in one hand and pins and powder in the other. I 
would try not to look, as she would fold the diapers 
together and lay them out on the bed beside me. She would 
then tell "baby" to roll over on his tummy and powder would 
go on his cheeks. Then "baby" was rolled back over onto his 
diapers for powder and pinning. I hated exposing myself as 
I had to when she made me spread my legs and keep my hands 
on my chest.
	The diapers were pulled up and pinned tightly and the 
speech would be given that "baby" would be given big boy 
clothes if his diapers were dry after the noon meal. This 
was not easy, as I was not allowed to go to the bathroom 
after she caught me. I remember once I had to go real bad. 
I had probably wet the bed early the previous evening and 
needed to pee-pee and poopies when I woke up. I was not 
allowed into the bathroom when I awoke and my bladder was 
full. Even as mother prepared to diaper me I begged to be 
allowed to pee-pee in the toilet before being diapered. It 
must have been during cold weather because I had to stay 
inside the house. She refused and told me I should have 
thought of going to the bathroom before wetting the bed. 
This meant that I couldn't sneak under the house and pee-
pee. Knowing that I would soon go in my diapers she laid 
out an old oilcloth tablecloth on the floor picnic style 
and made me sit on it there in the kitchen where she could 
keep an eye on me. She told me if I moved the seat of my 
diapers off the oilcloth that I would be in diapers for 
another complete day and to test her if I felt brave. This 
way she figured I could use my diapers and hurt nothing. 
Her plan worked in about fifteen minutes. I felt the 
wetness start and quickly spread through out the seat of my 
diapers. She asked me, "is baby was wetting his little 
dydees?" "Oh, surely not because he says that he is a big 
boy but I think that he is a little baby because I can see 
his bottom is all wet with pee-pee and poopies." The 
diapers held my poop pretty well but soon the brown stain 
was spreading all around me on the oilcloth. She teased me 
and made me sit in my wet, cold, and smelly diapers for a 
long time. By the time she decided to change me I was wet, 
cold, and dirty from the waist down. She kept telling me I 
was acting twelve months old not twelve years old.
	I am sure that she was hoping someone would come to 
visit so I could be "properly" embarrassed in front of him 
or her in my now soaked and dirty diapers.
	After my diaper change Mother then told me that now 
because I had wet and dirtied myself like a baby I would be 
in diapers until after supper. If those diapers were wet, I 
would be changed into fresh new diapers and tested again 
after breakfast the next day. Mother had at least a couple 
dozen diapers for me at any time so she would not run 
short. She kept them in the cedar chest in her bedroom.
	Sometimes to punish me and perhaps demonstrate her 
control Mother would call me to come out of my room or back 
yard and greet a guest of her's who might visit while I was 
being disciplined. I then had to come to the room where 
they were and stand in front of them in just my diapers and 
tell them what I had done to be dressed as such a big baby.
	If I were not compliant enough to suit mother I would 
then face even more hours of diaper discipline. I had to 
speak loudly and distinctly with no crying and keep my 
hands behind my back. I had to stand in front of the guests 
until mother would tell me I could go back to my room. 
Fortunately this only happened twice and both times her 
lady friends of seemed sympathetic to my plight and me 
although one lady did, tongue in cheek, offer to send over 
to me some of her baby's outgrown toys.
	I now wish I had been able at the time to have acted 
proud of, or at least indifferent to my diapers. I should 
have done a little dance in them in front of mother and her 
guests making them think that I enjoyed my diapers. Maybe I 
could have laid down on the floor in front of mother and 
asked her to redo my pins to make my diapers more snug. 
When dismissed by mother I should have asked her if I could 
go out to the front lawn and play ball with some of the 
other kids. Questions like these would have taken all the 
fun out of punishing me and given her a bit to think about.
	I was small framed and slim - well able to fit into 
the 21 x 40 inch Curity baby diapers mother used on me as 
long as she diapered me. I remember thinking in later years 
that I should have gotten so fat like my twin brothers that 
she couldn't get a diaper on me!
	In the summer of my thirteenth year I had the hormones 
of puberty raging and pulling in me and I wet my bed big 
time one July week. Mother had always warned what would 
happen to me if ever I would happen to wet.
	My brothers were away at Boy Scout camp. I couldn't go 
because I was very allergic to poison ivy which was all 
over the camp site. A neighbor child had a birthday party 
the previous evening at which I drank too close to bedtime 
and stayed up later than usual. Two bad mistakes. That 
morning my wet condition was discovered by my mother's keen 
nose and I was caught. She told me to put all the wet 
sheets and p.j.'s in the washer and go back to my room and 
wait for her there naked. Time spent waiting for her was 
always agony. She gave dad his breakfast and saw him off. 
Meanwhile, I was left naked in my room dreading what was 
coming.
	At thirteen I had to fight erections at diaperings 
because I had grown to enjoy the sexual feelings that were 
now strongly associated with diapers. Soon she came into my 
room carrying several diapers, pins and powder. I knew the 
drill and lay down on the stripped mattress and turned over 
onto my stomach. I didn't want to look as she folded the 
diapers to pin on me. I would just lie there fighting an 
erection.
	Soon I heard the diapers being folded and arranged and 
felt the powder falling onto my bottom and then being 
spread on my cheeks. She then told me to turn over onto my 
diapers and my front was powdered. As the diapers were 
coming up between my legs and being pinned I was told that 
I was to go out into the back yard and wait until she 
called me to hang up my laundry. There was no use begging 
for a little mercy or even saying a word.
	I just went down the hall, into the kitchen, and out 
onto the sunny porch where I sat down on the steps just 
outside the screen door's arc. I had been there before many 
times dressed only in my diapers. I think I sat there on 
the steps for some fifteen minutes or so.
	Afraid that someone would see me, I planned to go into 
the crawlspace under the house again as I had done several 
times before when in this circumstance. The yard was 
actually pretty well contained, as mothers' rose bushes 
were tall and tightly arranged, almost like a hedge.
	My next door neighbor, a pretty thirteen-year-old 
girl, Nancy, just happened to look out of her second story 
bedroom window and see me sitting on the steps. She figured 
I was being disciplined. She liked me and wanted to help 
me, I think. She diapered herself, had on a light cotton 
dress when she came over to be with me.
	I did not see or hear her until I saw her coming 
around the corner of the house. She was holding the front 
of her dress up so I could see all of her stomach and most 
of her chest. I was frozen in place. She was so pretty. 
This was the first time I had seen a girl's breasts since I 
had nursed from Mrs. Hughes. She came to me and sat down 
beside me, putting her arm around my shoulders and telling 
me, " that I was a good boy and didn't deserve to be 
punished like this."
	We talked about school and our plans for 8th grade. 
Later Mother opened the back door and put a baby bottle 
full of warm formula down on the concrete and told Nancy 
that the bottle was for the "baby." This was the only time 
mother ever gave me a baby bottle of formula in all the 
years of disciplining me. She said that I should drink it 
right down and that she would be back for the empty bottle 
soon. If I didn't finish the bottle quickly I would be 
given a re-fill. It would be difficult for me to be dry at 
lunch after drinking that bottle and that meant that I 
would have been in diapers until after supper at the least.
	Nancy led me down to the rose arbor. She sat down 
slipping off her shoes. She removed a sock and told me to 
lie down so that my head would be in the crook of her arm. 
I expected the "ba-ba" as Nancy called the bottle.
	She knew that I was aroused because my penis made my 
diapers stand out rather tentlike. She had seen my erection 
clearly as we sat and talked and then walked down the 
pathway to the arbor together. I felt her hand slip under 
my diapers and pull her thick cotton Bobbie-sock down over 
the shaft of my penis. She gripped my penis in her hand and 
moved up and down a couple times and I had my first wet 
orgasm into her sock. It was well that she liked thick 
socks because I soaked the sock well.
	Nancy made sure the orgasm was done and was not going 
to leak on my diapers. Nancy knew more about boys than I 
did in that regard for sure. I have since wondered how she 
came to be so knowledgeable about boys since she had no 
brothers. She told me that now my mother would not find "my 
diapers wet with 'boy juice' and mistake it for pee-pee."
	So saying she put the nipple of the bottle into my 
mouth and I quickly nursed the warm formula down. All the 
time I nursed from the bottle I kept my eyes closed and 
marveled at the wonderful feelings I had just experienced.
	The orgasm had frightened me at first because I had 
first thought that I was peeing into my diapers and would 
have to wear diapers all day. Nancy thought I was silly to 
not know the difference between wetting and having an 
orgasm.
	Soon she finished feeding me the bottle. This was the 
first time; anyone had held a bottle for me and fed it to 
me since I had been a tiny baby. I remember she would pull 
the nipple away from me occasionally to let the air back 
into the bottle.
	As we started to go back to the porch she told me to 
stand up and put both my arms around her neck. She then 
rubbed and patted my back and suddenly squeezed me to her 
and sure enough I gave out with a loud burp. She wiped all 
the spilt formula off my chin and face with her skirt. We 
could smell the strong baby formula smell on my breath.
	Nancy thought it was sweet for my breath to be so 
"babylike." She set the empty bottle down on the back porch 
where my mother could pick it up. While we were waiting for 
my mother to come for my empty bottle Nancy asked me where 
the bottle had come from. Nancy said that she already 
suspected that I wore diapers from time to time because she 
had seen them drying on the clothesline before. The 21 by 
40-inch Curity gauze diapers would not have fit either of 
my rotund twin brothers.
	Nancy asked where the bottle had come from. I told her 
that my little baby cousin, Janie, from Roanoke, VA had 
been visiting with us some time back and her mother had 
accidentally forgotten the bottle along with a few of her 
diapers. These left items had just added to my mother's 
baby collection for me.
	Just then Mother opened the door and picked up the 
empty bottle and asked Nancy if "baby" had drunk it all. 
Nancy replied that I had nursed it all down. In an hour or 
so Nancy noticed my distress and asked me when I had last 
went pee-pee. I did not know as I had been asleep in bed 
when last I relieved myself. She told me that she would 
stand guard for me if I wanted to go under the house or 
back to the rose bush that could not be seen from the house 
and pee-pee. I could feel all that formula in my stomach 
and knew I had to take a chance.
	I had told Nancy before that I was forbidden during 
diaper discipline to go pee-pee out side my diapers, but 
since I needed to go badly, I hesitantly took her up on her 
offer and risked it by watering that rose bush out the leg 
of my diapers. I was very careful not to get any wetness on 
the diapers.
	The penalty, if I had been caught, would have been 
seven complete days, twenty-four hours per day, in diapers. 
I would have had to have worn diapers to church, school, 
and whatever else the schedule of appointments called for 
during that week! I mean cloth diapers with no waterproof 
panties or even soaker pants. A "doubler" diaper would have 
been the best I could have hoped for. I would have severely 
wet or messed any clothes I may have had on wherever or 
whenever. She would not have bought me any waterproof 
panties to wear over my cloth diapers.
	If mother felt merciful I would have gotten to wear 
something over them - if not, I would just have to have 
worn my poopy or soppy diapers shopping or wherever until 
she changed me. However, there was a good side to having 
nothing on over the diapers. If I just had to pee-pee I 
could just spread my legs and let it run on the floor or 
ground and then move away from my puddle. But if I had 
pants on the pants legs would get wet and both tell on me. 
This made me feel very uncomfortable and ashamed. I had 
just enough experience in these maneuvers to know how to 
survive if I had to. Nancy figured I would not stay dry 
until after lunch.
	Lunch was two hours and some away and I would have to 
wet my diapers for sure with all that formula in me. I have 
hated condensed milk and Kayro syrup from that hour till 
the present. I think the bottle was mother's insurance that 
her "baby" would be wet at lunchtime. That afternoon she 
planned to go food shopping with a friend who drove and I 
would surely have had to go along. She would have dressed 
me only in diapers with maybe a short tee shirt and a pair 
of white socks with no shoes. I hated the thought of having 
to ride in the shopping cart dressed that way and risk 
being seen by anyone I knew.
	She also desired further humiliation of "baby" in 
front of a pretty girl by making me nurse down that bottle 
of baby formula. Never the less Nancy was understanding and 
we talked more about school and her sick mom. Nancy's mom 
actually died later on that summer. It was getting on 
toward lunch when Nancy said that she wanted to walk back 
to the rose arbor.
	Again she had again noticed my erect penis sticking up 
under my diapers. She was so pretty and that loose fitting 
dress really aroused me. She could not have missed seeing 
the bulge on the front of my diapers that my penis was 
making. After all, diapers were all I had on.
	Again she sat down after kicking off her shoes and 
took off her dry sock. I knew what was coming but had no 
will to say, "no." I was thoroughly smitten with her.
	Her hand slid under the diapers with and again a bulky 
sock slid down over my penis. Her long red hair was hanging 
over my shoulder touching me. She smelled so pretty too. 
Her grip on my penis was delicate yet firm and my shaking 
body was soon experiencing orgasm for the second time in my 
life. She massaged all the "boy juice" out and held me for 
a while getting every drop of wetness.
	She laughed and said she sometimes liked wet socks. 
She must have enjoyed the feel of the wet socks on her 
feet. In any event she now had a pair of wet bobbie-socks. 
She put her foot back into the sock and smoothed it down. I 
could see wet spots and blotches on the sock clearly.
	She walked with me back to the porch. She then soon 
thereafter left to go to get ready to go with her dad to 
visit her mom in the hospital. Nancy gave me a little kiss 
and a pat to the front of my diapers when she left. That 
was nice.
	Soon my mother came to the back door with the laundry 
for me to hang up. I hung it all quickly, but very neatly, 
and was called in for lunch. I had a sandwich and two big 
bowls of soup that were calculated to make me wet early in 
the afternoon during the shopping trip. She was just sure I 
would be wet and have to go shopping with her. With all the 
fluids I was taking in during lunch I would never be able 
to stay dry in the afternoon and the two ladies would have 
had a thirteen-year-old baby in very wet diapers to tease 
and embarrass all afternoon.
	All during lunch I kept dancing and fidgeting like I 
really had to go to the bathroom. Also during lunch I had 
to nurse down all the left over formula she made for me 
earlier. It amounted to another full bottle.
	At the conclusion of lunch, after she had slowly 
washed the last dish and I had finished my lunch she 
finally took me into my room and undid my diapers to 
inspect my "dydees" for the slightest wetness.
	Mother was, I think, very surprised that I was still 
dry. When she gave me permission I jumped up off the 
diapers and bed and ran to the bathroom and stayed a long 
time and flushed twice, for effect. Mother was happy - a 
little disappointed - but I had been taught yet another 
good lesson. The lesson was not as strong as she had 
planned for the afternoon but strong nonetheless.
	When her lady friend came to take her shopping I was 
allowed to stay and play there at home. I noticed that the 
car she drove had a big baby seat in the back seat but no 
baby. I am sure it had been put there for me had I not been 
dry. The two ladies were deprived of teasing their big 
baby. Mother had no idea what had actually happened that 
day. My first two wet orgasms and both of them into 
diapers! As the twig is bent so grows the tree, I hear...
	Mother would threaten and control me off and on in the 
years to come occasionally diapering me for short periods. 
She would sometimes just show me some diaper pins and ask 
me if I knew what they were. I would immediately stop 
whatever I was doing and do whatever pleased her. . I knew 
she would diaper me in a heartbeat!
	Once I was put into diapers because my guest wet his 
pants. My best friend Tommy, the one who had admired my 
diapers at the New Year party, was over to play a board 
game with me in my room. Mother was house cleaning and came 
to the bathrooms and asked us if we needed to go and we 
answered in unison, "no." She left and it was not long 
before Tommy confessed to me that he had wet his pants on 
the school bus. He had had to choose between the rest room 
and the school bus that was about to leave and decided to 
take the bus. Oh well, his pants were drying well.
	An hour passed and mother happened to poke her head 
into my room and she smelled urine immediately. She asked 
if one of us had a problem. We played innocent and she came 
in and asked us to stand. The jig was up. "Teenagers 
shouldn't wet their pants nor withhold the truth!" We were 
told.
	Tommy was told to take off his wet pants right then so 
they could be washed. I was told to take off my clothes and 
get on the bed. Tommy was told to put my clothes on until 
his were ready since "I would not need them." She left and 
came right back with the usual punishment diapers. She 
diapered me right there in front of Tommy for concealing 
the fact that he had wet.
	Mother said," if you want to act like a baby and 
conceal things from your mother then you need to be dressed 
appropriately. I was red as a beet and wearing four thick 
Curity diapers.
	I was surprised when Tommy told my mother that "since 
I wet, I think that I am the one who deserves the most to 
be put into diapers." Mother nodded but said nothing. She 
left and came back with more diapers - this time for Tommy. 
He was diapered and the clothes were taken away because 
"Babies don't wear big boy clothes - just their diapers."
	We stayed in my room and played at our game in just 
our diapers until mother came back with his stuff. Tommy 
had quietly told me that he liked the diapers and thought 
that they were fun. He reminded me of the New Year's Party 
when I had been Baby New Year. He had thought that I was 
lucky. After completing the washing and drying of his 
clothes mother came back in. She told Tommy to lay down on 
the bed. His diapers were removed and he was told to put 
his pants and shirt back on.
	She made no move to remove my diapers until Tommy 
interceded for me and asked if Jimmy could have his clothes 
back too. Mother said she thought that it would be all 
right under the circumstances - "just this once." She then 
removed my diapers and allowed us to go outside and play.
	Tommy told me that he was going to ask his mother if 
she would let him wear diapers sometimes. She must have 
failed to see the logic of his request and I don't think he 
ever got her to diaper him. In the spring of the following 
year my mother again thought needful to put me back into 
diapers for a short time.
	During adolescence I would find relief from my drives 
and feelings by occasionally buying a half dozen diapers. 
They also came in packages of six when I was young. I then 
took them out into the deep woods and pinned them on and 
wet into them and would masturbate in the wet diapers as a 
treat. I then would walk around in the wet diapers and when 
done throw all the diapers away.
	Occasionally I would do my pooping in my diapers and 
use the soiled diapers and the creek to clean up. I was not 
big on pooping myself because of the difficulty in clean 
up. I couldn't take the left over diapers home and run the 
risk of them being found. If one of those diapers I bought 
had been found I don't know what would have happened. I 
probably would have been put back into diapers forever!
	Time goes on and a few months later after my sixteenth 
birthday my mother diapered me again intending to humiliate 
me to the maximum. Most times mother's diapering of me was 
done privately between the two of us and I was often 
allowed to stay in my room. Not this time.
	I had just gotten my driver's license and was taking 
her to see one of her friends. I pulled out a little too 
quickly in front of another driver and frightened her. This 
was taken as "sassing" on my part. She really thought that 
I had pulled out too quickly on purpose - just to scare 
her. She told me to take the car home and arriving home I 
was told to go to my room and take off my pants. I knew 
what was coming.
	I started an erection in anticipation of being 
diapered. I tried not to out of sheer embarrassment. I 
considered myself a young man whose genitals were private. 
For my mother to see them made me less of a man I felt. At 
least it embarrassed me greatly when she saw me naked. The 
application of powder and the spreading of the legs as I 
raised my rear in baby fashion for her to slide my diapers 
in under me was the pits. She came into my room with the 
usual pins, diapers, and powder. My penis became erect and 
I could not get it to go down.
	Ever since my day with Mrs. Jones diapers had a strong 
sexual connection in my mind. Mrs. Jones' rubbing my 
diapers, giving me dry orgasms, and letting the girls see 
me naked and touch me had also had effected me. Then Nancy 
had given me my first two wet orgasms in diapers three 
years before.
	Mother took my erect penis in her hand and said that I 
was indeed getting to be a "big baby" - and with her free 
hand suddenly slapped it hard. I remember crying hard 
because it hurt almost as badly as when I had hurt it on my 
bike when my feet slipped off the pedals coming up a steep 
hill. Before this time I never cried when diapered except 
back when I had been four and a half. I saw crying as 
agreement with her on my wearing diapers and I refused to 
cry like a baby.
	After being diapered she told me I could put my jeans 
back on over my diapers. I was barely able to get my jeans 
over the bulky diapers and to button up my fly. This was 
not good enough for her because I had left the tee shirt 
outside my pants and it would tend to hide my diapers and 
the bulge they made under my jeans. I now had to tuck my 
shirt in too.
	I looked a bit puffy around the bottom I'm sure with 
three Curity diapers on.
	In front of me, so I could not miss it, she tucked a 
change of diapers for me into her big purse and told me we 
were now going again to visit her friend and do some 
shopping as well. It was in November but I was not allowed 
a coat. You can't see a person's clothes under a coat, can 
you?
	When we walked up to the door of Mrs. Betts home I was 
sure everyone would know that I was diapered but no one 
seemed to notice. Thank Goodness for looser styled jeans 
and slim hips.
	After the visit came the afternoon in the stores and 
all the time I enjoyed the feel of my diapers but dreaded 
anyone discovering that I was wearing them.
	I asked mother softly to be allowed to go to the 
toilet but was quickly told about the function of diapers 
for babies such as myself. I was highly embarrassed to say 
the least. Mother did not whisper even in front of the 
clerk.
	Every time mother would refer to me it was to "Baby."
	I was both excited and scared when mother asked me in 
a loud voice if I would have a preference on which type of 
waterproof panties she should buy for me. I wish now that I 
had enough chutzpah back then to have told her, "Oh, I'll 
take the pink ones with the cute rumba frills on the seat. 
They would be just so cute." Believe me, that answer would 
have given her cause to do some serious thinking!
	One of the young part-time clerks there went to my 
school! We even had American History together. She looked 
quizzically at me. When I had to answer mother she smiled 
sweetly at me. Everyone in a fifty-foot radius could easily 
hear our conversation.
	I had to speak loudly or mother would have embarrassed 
me worse by asking me if I was wet or calling me over to 
her so she could "check my diapers." She would do this by 
having me pull my pants down to expose my diapers. She then 
would make me bend forward so she could see if I had done 
"a bad job" in the back of my diapers. She would then 
examine the crotch looking for wetness. She knew I hated 
pulling down my pants and exposing my diapers.
	She had her ways so I told her I preferred the pull-on 
type best. Then mother wanted to know what color pull-on 
panties I liked best and I had to tell her blue or clear. 
Then mother "decided" not to buy the panties for me after 
all- she did not want to buy any thing anyway. She had just 
gone through the motions to embarrass me. This is why she 
always called me "Baby" when spoke to me. The woman had a 
mean streak.
	Eventually we got home and I managed to stay dry.
	She knew I was dry. She did not have any waterproof 
panties to put over my diapers and without plastic panties 
the blue denim would have absorbed the wetness straight 
from the diapers and been clearly visible.
	This was next to the last time mother ever put me into 
diapers. Also, this was the only time since the New Year's 
Eve party back when I was twelve that she made me go out in 
public obviously wearing diapers. This humiliation hurt 
deeply and I didn't feel she loved me at all. She would 
still threaten and tease me.
	For almost all the rest of my adolescence I stayed 
even more to myself. I became a loner and was always afraid 
that my secret would get out or was already out. I had no 
way of knowing what, if anything, the young part-time clerk 
at the Belk-Leggett Dept. store had said about my mother's 
search for waterproof panties for me or to whom she may 
have spoken. Evidently she told no one. I should have 
sought her out and thanked her - but I was too shy. In my 
mind I figured she had told all the other girls in town 
about the "big baby who preferred pull-on panties in blue 
or clear over his diapers."
	At eighteen years of age I managed to foul up again. I 
got caught in a lie. I was ordered to my room to strip for 
punishment. I had to remove my clothes and wait. It was 
mid-morning and I was unsure how long I would be diapered 
for this time. I soon found out. I had to wear diapers 
until after the supper dishes were finished.
	Mother came into my bedroom with three diapers for me. 
After she finished pinning them on me she told me to put my 
clothes on over them and stay in my room. The diapers were 
hot but I was happy to comply and no one else in the family 
knew that I had them on. This was the very last time she 
diapered me.
	She told me while removing my diapers that evening 
that I was just a disgusting baby and a great 
disappointment. She said, "I don't think you will ever grow 
up and stop acting like a baby. You are just a little 
baby." I didn't think she loved me at all.
	I was presumed lost in a plane over the Pacific Ocean 
a little over a year later and she was every inch the 
concerned mother and was genuinely thrilled at the news 
that I was safely in Japan. But that night she hurt me 
deeply by what she did and said.
	I remember later going into the woods several times 
and secretly crying until I became "cried out." I thought 
about killing myself but lacked the resolve. My 
Presbyterian pastor had told us in Church that suicide 
would land you in Hell. I didn't want that. So I just shut 
the world out.
	I was very shy and afraid of people. I never dated or 
went to any party or function at either Junior High or High 
school. After these experiences I became even more shy and 
a complete "loner" at school. My mother noticed my 
reclusiveness but never reasoned from cause to effect.
	I remember coming home from school and going to my 
room and pretending to be studying or going out and doing 
my chores. Over time I gave most of my toy stuff and sports 
equipment to my brothers. In the evening I would say little 
at supper and answer when spoken to but never start a 
conversation. I became a quiet kid for sure. Everything I 
enjoyed was done alone except for the rare times Tommy or 
Nancy would be around.
	I even liked the peace and solitude to be found under 
the house crawlspace. I went there even when not being 
punished. I would daydream about the joys of being on a 
desert island or in solitary confinement.
	Years before I had been enrolled in dancing school in 
order to help me become more socially active. However, I 
remained shy and timid around girls although I liked 
dancing and knew how to dance better than did most boys or 
girls.
	I was afraid that if I asked a girl out she would 
immediately tell me, "no," and tell me "she didn't date 
diaper-wearing babies." In my imagination she would laugh 
and confirm my worthlessness. I knew I was worthless for 
why would my own mother have done these things to me if it 
were not true that I was a loss?
	I tried to never knowingly disobey mother and never 
let her - or anyone else - know how unhappy or lonely I 
truly was. I had absolutely no one with whom to talk except 
Tommy and occasionally with Nancy. Mother often received 
compliments on my deportment. I was such a good boy!
	She must have thought that she had done a particularly 
good job with me!
	Deliverance in my mind was becoming a pilot in the Air 
Force and flying a single engine interceptor jet. Maybe the 
Air Force could give me some worth and make me a man. I 
needed help because I felt I had no worth at home. I felt 
that I was a disappointment to everyone. But most of all I 
was a disappointment to myself. I went as soon as I could 
into the military and again forgot about my mother's 
discipline.
	I became a born again Christian in the USAF and my 
life changed. Life then became good and became even better 
a few years later when I fell in love. I met a wonderful 
girl and fell deeply in love with her and to my utter 
amazement found that she loved me too. To think that she 
could love me in return was unbelievable but wonderful.
	I thank God daily for the gift of her love and next to 
the Lord Himself she became and is the first and dearest 
thing in my life.
	However, the very first time we made love old 
forgotten memories returned that I thought were long, long 
gone. But that will be an untold story...For her ears 
only...