This is the continued story of Simon’s Journal.
Before you begin this third volume in this series,

I would highly recommend that you read the first and second volumes

as each picks up were the previous left off.

Simon’s Journal - Volume I
Thirteen Days – The First Crusade

ADMONITION:

The following narrative is nearly a complete work of fiction. Some events and characters were pulled from real life but have been changed, enhanced and twisted to comply with my will. Any other similarity to actual individuals living or dead is completely unintentional, but it would be incredible!

WARNING:

The following story contains diaper use, violence, adult language and strong sexual content. If reading a coming of age story about boys wearing diapers and exploring their awakening sexuality doesn’t tickle your pickle, or if pickle tickling is illegal in your area, then I suggest you select something else to read.

Simon's Journal

Volume III

Thirteen Sails
Adventures Abound

Written by Danny

Chapter - 22

Lady in Orange

When the day came that Madam-M arrived I must admit that I wasn’t surprised in the least bit to see that it was in fact my Amazon Warrior Goddess, Officer Yolanda Mecums. But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself again.

I hadn’t seen Lowell all day. The previous day he and I had been caught goofing around when we should have been washing diapers so he had been sent to work with Fyer which is what started the friendship between that drunken mini-giant and the two of us. Anyway, it was hot; I mean hot-hot-hot and had been for a couple of days before her arrival. Despite the fact that anyone that was seen not wearing clothes was seriously punished, I was still running around with just a diaper which pretty much everyone was doing. As a sort of protest against the Wriggles we, the other guys and me, had come up with the idea of keeping our nightly diapers on all day. I’m not sure what our reasoning was for this, maybe we were hoping to make the Wriggles sick by the smell. I was carrying an armload of freshly laundered diapers through the halls when I heard my name called. I don’t mean the stupid made up name that the Wriggles had forced on me, I mean my real name.

“Simon?”

I was getting use to Lowell and the guys calling me by my real name at night in our secret room so I wasn’t startled to hear it. Sister Sarafina had also refused to use anything other than a boy’s real name which just drove the Wriggles nuts. I still don’t know how she knew our real names but she did. When I heard my name I turned to see who was calling for me. I could barely see over the pile of diapers but there was no way I could have missed seeing.

The second I saw her I stomped my foot and shook my head and said, “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!”

She was standing there wearing a deep orange evening gown with black lace that framed the cleavage of her enormous breasts. On the top of her head three fluffy orange feathers stuck out of her hair to one side and were accessorized with little silver and gold colored balls the size of small berries. Around her neck she wore a delicate gold necklace with five large black beads adorning it approximately an inch a part. I couldn’t see much of her legs but what I could see of them were glistening with glitter that was part of her fishnet stockings. Her feet were clad in orange satin high healed shoes with toes that came to such a sharp point that I knew they must have been killing her feet. They reminded me of two dinner hams shoved into ladies shoes.

What I hadn’t expected were the other people she had with her. Directly to her left was Runt—I must admit that I wasn’t so surprise by his presence, I had suspected his involvement here since day one. I hadn’t expected so see Tate standing loyally beside her and that goofy grin he had plastered across his face made me want to kick him... HARD! And much to my surprise leaning against the doorjamb behind the lot of them was none other than Tate’s younger brother Mikey.

All three of them were dressed alike with gray jackets, pants. I remember the first time I had seen run dressed like someone from a Civil War reenactment was the same day that I had run away from the man in the rusty van and ended up in the home of a crazy old man with a crazy cat.

It was at that moment that I realized that since returning to the Banachelli I hadn’t seen much of Vera. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t seen her in over a week. I couldn’t help but wonder where she was off too. Knowing her she was off getting fat on mice elsewhere in side the Banachelli. I guess she is ok. I mean even when she is around she is stealthy and only sticks around long enough to make sure I am still alive. Then she vanishes again for a few days at a time.

Anyway, Runt and Tate looked fit though maybe somewhat leaner however, Mikey looked positively ill. I later learned that he had been badly injured back in the cave back in Ohio; he had survived but only barely. His eyes were now sunk back into his skull with dark grey lines beneath each one. His skin was a lifeless sort of pinkish grey that hung on him like ill-fitting clothes. I think he lips stood out the most, they were several shades lighter then the surrounding sink and boarding on white.

I was still shaking my head and repeating, “I knew it! I knew it!”

Mikey spoke in a voice I didn’t recognize. He sounded weak and feeble; his words came out almost as if they were an afterthought. “Yes, you’re very smart! Now do shut up would ya?” As he said this he thrust a single finger up his nose and then pretended to flick a booger at me.

Still holding the diapers, my chin barely resting on the top of the stack, I looked at her and said in the most disrespectful tone I could come up with, “So what do I call you? Officer Mecums, Yolanda, Madam-M or how about I just call you Bitch?”

I must have surprised her by cussing, I know I sure surprised myself but I was mad... no I was more than mad. When I saw the four of them standing there my anger level went off the charts. I could have brought a dormant volcano back to life with the rage that was inside of me at that very moment.

Runt, Tate and Mikey were looking to see what she would do about my comment. They looked genuinely concerned. She frowned and was about to speak when the Wriggles stepped through a door to see who it was that was making so much noise in the hall. I’m sure they were intent on knocking me around some more for yelling in the hall but the instant they saw the mountain of a woman standing there the two of them went white as fresh diapers right out of the package.

There was no talking or chance to explain themselves. One second the two of them were standing there looking like a couple of frightened school kids about to get whacks from the principle and the next they lay dead on the floor oozing blood and brain matter. And believe it or not, I was more upset that the diapers I had spent the day laundering were sprayed with the Wriggles blood than I was for the two of them being murdered in cold blood.

Maybe it was partly due to the shock, maybe partly due to my state of mind after having lived at the Banachelli for so long but at any rate I threw the stack of diapers on the floor and shouted, “If you think I am washing those again you better think twice!”

The roar of laughter that came out of Officer Mecums was so loud that the floor beneath my feet quaked. I stood with my hands on my hips as she stepped up to me, lifted me up and hugged me like I was her long lost child.

“My ribs!” I cried out as she squeezed me.

“Oh I am sorry sweetie, I forgot!” she said kissing me all over my face before putting me back down.

It was Tate that broke in with, “Alright who farted?”

I laughed, I honestly laughed. How twisted was I to be laughing while two people lay died at my feet? I learned something that day. When someone dies, they crap their pants. Apparently it is a natural thing that happens to everyone when they croak.

Chapter 23

** As always, your thoughts matter to me very, very much, so please send any comments, questions, suggestions, or criticism to me at: [email protected] **