The Good Old Days Part 1
By Dave
Summary: This story is part true, part fiction. The part of my life up to age 14 in this story is reality, after that is my fantasy. If you do not like stories about diapers or the people who have that erotic interest, please do not read further.
I woke up in bed. it was 4 AM. I rolled out of bed, realizing I had pooped myself, again. I was a heavy sleeper and I had squished it all over myself. I was five years old at this time, it was a hot night in August, and my first day of school was only two hours away. As I knew my mom would be disappointed in me for not making it in time to my little boy potty, I quickly ran into the bathroom and tried to wipe myself up best I could. I made a little bit of a detectable mess, which I just put the bathroom rug over, my five year old feeble mind thinking this was good enough to cover it up. I threw my poopy underwear in the trash can in the bathroom, and left it there, in plain sight. I went back to bed, sleepless for the rest of the night.
My mother came in at about seven o’ clock to wake me up, and the smell hit her like a wall of bricks.
“David, did you mess yourself again?”
Being five years old and being raised admirably, despite my “weakness” I said, “Yes mommy.” She sighed and asked me which trash can I put it in. I pointed to the bathroom from my bed, which was directly opposite my bedroom in our two-bedroom apartment. She pulled me out of bed, took my hand, pulled a fresh pair of underwear (I went to sleep naked after pooping myself) out of my dresser, and led me into the bathroom. She wiped up the little mess that I failed to get off my butt, and put the underwear on me. She then told me to go into my room and pick out what I wanted to wear to school. She was very worried this morning, as I was having to be sent to a special school for children with “social difficulties” because of my pooping problem.
In the kitchen, mom sat me at the table, I had Cheerios for breakfast, and then mom took me outside to wait for the bus. I had an urge to poop, but I tried to hold it in, as mom tended to yell a bit when I did it right in front of her. She put me on the bus, and off I went. The bus monitor (apparently all people who went to ‘social difficulties’ school, had a monitor) had us sing a preschool song we were all used to, called the “Lemon Lounge” the whole way there, but only 3 of the 11 kids on the bus were able to sing. The school I was going to was not only for people with bathroom problems, but with mental difficulties and such too. also, it was Kindergarten all the way through Twelfth grade, so some of the high school kids had trouble with the law. It was in short, a place for people who were not wanted in public society, and the learning curriculum was a load of poop. (no pun intended) I was escorted to my classroom, and there were 3 teachers for 6 kids. The three teachers were Mrs. Shultz, Ms. Pat, and Ms. Kathy. I looked around for the five other kids. One was Jared, a child who ran around the room going “hurr hurr hurr!” nonstop. I would soon come to learn that he had a speech problem. I never heard one real word out of him the whole year. The next, Kenneth, was a seemingly normal kid, I never really found out what was wrong with him. The same story was with Kyle, whom Kenneth hung out with. Apparently they went to the same preschool together. One child’s name I can’t remember, so that leaves the last. Michael Hoose. Michael had an obvious developmental problem, and at age five, he was still wearing no-name brand Baby Diapers, supplied by his mother. None of my teachers were informed as to my bathroom problem, just they knew I had some sort of problem. My mother always thought my problem was quite odd, besides the obvious reason that it was, as I excelled in writing, math, and speech at a very young age. As I was putting my Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers backpack into my cubby, the urge came again. I froze, trying to hold it in, slowly making my way towards the bathroom. I did not make it. I pooped myself, and I went on hoping no one would notice.
About an hour after the pooping, the room started to stink. Ms. Kathy, who apparently did all the diaper changing, went over to Michael, whose diaper was dry and unsoiled. She then boldly said “Did someone poop themselves!?” She always had a tendency to raise her voice. She said. “Alright, everyone line up, I’m gonna check ya pants.” She said. First was Jared, she found nothing. Then came Kenneth, also nothing. Then came Kyle, nothing as well. Then the nameless kid, his pants were clean and shiny. Then it was me. She said “Did you poop?” I shook my head no, disobeying my mom’s cardinal rule “don’t lie.” She checked my pants and said “You lied! Go into the bathroom now!”
I did as I was told, and sat on the toilet. The poop squished against my bottom, and then Ms. Kathy walked in. She put a bath towel down and said “lay on the floor, now!” Apparently, she was very disgruntled at the fact that she would now have two diapers to change. I could not blame her there. She pulled out a diaper from the package, it had teddy bears on it, and its whole outside was smooth plastic. She wiped my butt several times, and then I was about to lift myself up so she could slide the diaper under me (I had only been out of actual diapers since 3 ½, and was still used to the routine of changing.) Instead, she grabbed my legs and twisted them so that she could get a firm grip on them both, and picked me up myself. This felt humiliating, and this feeling of humiliation got worse as I felt a soft diaper under my bottom. I closed my eyes, just letting it happen, and I heard the crinkling and the tapes being fasted. She grabbed me by the armpits, stood my up, and told me to go out. Kenneth and Kyle looked at me, and came over. They said “Hey that was pretty brave. we were always shakin’ cuz uh her in pre-school, but you didn’t say a thing.” I asked Kyle “Wanna be friends with me?” Ken and Kyle both nodded. Apparently I had found people who accepted me for who I was.
It had been a year since I had entered this weird school, and now I was in 1st Grade, with Ms. Bates, a very fat, intolerant lady who did not take kindly to the news that I messed myself. She had it arranged so that I would be sent to Ms. Shultz’s room whenever I needed my diaper changed. Although it wasn’t a diaper anymore, about halfway through the year, my mom made a last ditch attempt at toilet training me, and bought me pull-ups instead, which I still pooped in as if they were diapers. On occasion, Ms. Pat (she handled the diaper changes with me now) would forget and give me a baby diaper. I was to change myself now, another thing to get me used to going to the bathroom. I liked it when Ms. Pat forgot, because I liked the baby diapers more then the pull-ups. Now was one of those times, It was 9am, Ms. Bates saw I had pooped myself, and sent me to Ms. Shultz’s class. I was escorted into the bathroom, and Ms. Pat followed me in. For some reason, she changed me, and put the diaper on inside-out. This made it very difficult for me to walk. I went through the rest of the day at school without anymore accidents, and got on the bus. It was then I felt the urge to poop, and did it, of course, not even hesitating because there was no bathroom. When I got home, my mom was waiting for me as usual, and changed me into a pair of normal underpants. I went through the rest of the day with no accidents.
The next day at school, I would find out, would be a tough one. I walked into class, and Anthony, the popular kid there, was teaching everyone how to make jet skis out of Lego blocks. I asked if I could join in, and he said “What are you kidding, get out of here poopy boy.” This made me feel rejected, and I went and sat in the corner until it was time for lunch. Lunch was another inadequate, school meal of Italian bread and spaghetti noodles that were too thin and got caught in your teeth. As I came back from lunch, I went back to the corner, my place of woe. I felt the urge to poop, but instead of just letting it go like I did on the bus the day before, I held it in, and went to the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and did my business. Ms. Bates did not even notice this, but she would in weeks to come. As the year went on, Anthony still rejected me until about 5 months of accident-free school and home. My mom was very proud, and I was due for a reward soon that I had wanted for a long time. Anthony had stopped bugging me about my former weakness, and let me into the little group. In time, Anthony and I became friends. I went home that night, five months into the school year, diaper-less and proud of it.
It was a Friday night, and my Mom was going to order a pizza and invite my grandfather over for dinner. My aunt was at our house when I got home. It was still about an hour before dinner time, so my mom said “Come, let’s get into the car, I have a little surprise.” Apparently, my aunt was coming with us, and we got into the car. After about a fifteen minute drive, we reached a little house, white aluminum siding with a garage on the east side. We walked into the garage, and my mom said hi to the woman in there. In the garage were five of the cutest kittens I had ever laid eyes on, and their Mother, who was sleeping in her little cat bed, with the female cats nestled beside her. The female cats were black with gray and whitish-gray stripes, and the males were orange with darker orange patches.
I saw two males, one was quite fat and apparently ate a lot. The other was average weight, very cute, and looked somewhat confused. I went over to the middleweight one, and picked him up. I sat down on the concrete floor and began to pet him. He liked it. I called him Kirk, as my Aunt had always raised me to be a Star Trek junkie (among other things, like Champion Belcher of the family.) Mom came over with the woman and asked if I liked the kitty. I said yes, and my aunt was holding the chubby one, who looked a bit ticked off from being taken from his food, but still liked my aunt petting him nonetheless. My aunt named her cat Friday. Mom said I could keep the kitty if I wanted, as we had made a deal earlier in the month that said if I pooped on the toilet 10 times with no accidents in between that I could have Kirk. I accomplished this goal, and we took Kirk and Friday to our house to have dinner. The pizza was great, and my aunt left with Friday.
It was another summer coming to a close, as I pulled on my underwear, pants, and shirt, and brushed my teeth and had my Honey Comb cereal, rushing out the door after watching Looney Toons to catch my 8:00 AM bus. I was going to a new school with normal kids, and I was praying I wasn’t going to blow it. I was escorted to class, room 11, Sheafe Road Elementary. My teacher’s name was Mrs. Deubner. Class went ok up until lunch time. My classmate’s names were Greg, he was a quiet but nice kid. Then there was Harry, a very tall, jet-black haired kid who liked the outdoors. Another blank spot kid, whose name I can’t remember. Then there were Nicole and Jessica, the only girls in the class, who were best friends. After lunch, I had the urge to poop, and made my way to the bathroom, only to realize when I got there that I had done it in my pants half way there. I panicked, hoping no one would find out I had ended my perfect streak of poop-less pants for a year. I looked out the door, and saw a telltale poop pellet laying on the floor, Harry walked by and stepped on it, leaving a brown scorch on the floor. I used my best solution at the time, putting a chair over the scorch and pretending I didn’t see it. At about 2:00pm, an hour before dismissal, Ms. Deubner walked over to the sink to get the materials for the science demonstration, only to see the chair oddly placed in the middle of the floor. She moved it to reveal the brown scorch of poop on the floor, and bluntly asked “who did this?” I sighed, obeying my mom’s cardinal rule, and slowly walked over to her raising my hand. She gave me Windex, a pair of rubber gloves, and a paper towel, and told me to clean it up. I missed Science and went home with poopy pants, and a mark that would haunt me for the rest of my school days.
The rest of 2nd Grade went alright, no other accidents that I can remember, and so another summer rolled around. I was placed with a babysitter, a nice Indian woman whose name was Mina. She often had two other kids my age over, Noah and Daniel. She also had an infant baby girl, Helena, in her care almost every day. At one point, I felt the urge to poop, and headed for the bathroom quick, toppling over the building blocks fortress I had made for myself, Daniel, and Noah. This made me loose control of my muscles long enough for me to poop myself, and as Daniel saw my buttock area enlarge, he laughed himself silly. Noah, who was always a loyal friend to me, quickly frowned and turned his head away, pretending he had never seen it. Mina came in, told Daniel promptly to ‘shut ya mout’!” (she couldn’t speak English very well) and asked me “You’ah want da dia-pur?”
Daniel cracked up at this question, and I knew she was serious, I quickly said no, and during that time she again told Daniel to shut his mouth. She sent me into the bathroom, told me to take off my underpants and shake them out over the toilet and then put them in the washer. I did as I was told, and waited in the bathroom until it done.
I put my damp washed underpants back on, sprayed the back of my overalls with some Lysol, and went back out. My mom was there ready to pick me up and Mina was explaining away what happened. I went over to the door, where Helena was sitting. I kept rolling that question through my mind “You’ah want da dia-pur?” and I was thinking “Yes, Yes, Yes.” to myself. I stood near the desk, which had been taken out of an old school down the street. Inside the desk was Helena’s diapers, and Helena’s carrier was on top of the desk, holding her in it. I stood with my back to the desk and grabbed a diaper from it, without my mom seeing, and I put it inside my security blanket, which was given to me by my old baby sitter pat when I was 4. We rode home, and I ran inside the apartment to play with my matchbox cars. I put my blanket on the couch, and the diaper dropped out, in plain view of my mom, although she didn’t say anything. I went out into the living room, saw the diaper had dropped out, and looked quickly at the kitchen. My mom was making dinner and didn’t seem to notice it. Little did I know how long it had been exposed. I quickly grabbed it, and my blanket, and went back into my room. I laid down on my floor, lifted up, slid the diaper under my butt, and unfolded it. I pulled it up over my groin area and fasted the tapes, stood up, and flexed my legs. It fit snugly but comfortably. Comfortably enough to pee in without it leaking, which I did. In an ironic twist of fate, I grabbed a pencil and said in a half whisper “Welcome back folks, to the Diaper Show, starring your host, David Diaperlover!” Little did I know that this term, Diaper Lover, would mark itself on me forever later in life. This was that last diaper episode I had. until later.
The Good Old Days Part 2:Regression
The sequel to “The Good Old Days”
By Dave
Note: This story is about a
kid named Dave. This is a true story up until the point where he turns
fourteen. It is fictional from then on.
Summary: This is the sequel to
the Good Old Days, a story which told about a young boy named Dave. This story
tells of the effects it had on him.
Chapter One: Recalling those
Good Old Days
It had been nearly six years since my last diaper “episode.” I got out of the comfortable recliner in my Aunt’s house. There was still a lot of commotion due to the fact that it was my family’s Christmas party, but fortunately for me, my family always stayed late and I would still get a chance…A chance to get diapers. The snacks, games, and other things went on as the Christmas party dragged on into the night, and before I knew it, it was ten o’ clock. All of the guests had departed, save myself and my family and my grandmother. Now was the perfect opportunity. I walked out of the living room casually, and through the dining room, then stopped at the stairwell which was in between the kitchen and dining room. I slowly crept up the stairs to make sure no one in the living room heard me…
I sat down on the stairwell, and slowly put my hand into the basket which was laying there. I pulled out one of my little cousin’s training pants (my cousin was 3 and still wore training pants.) They were exactly like diapers save the fact that they did not have tabs and the front and back were attached by sides to simulate underwear. I went into the bathroom with it and locked the door. “Hmm.” I said to himself. “What to do, what to do…can’t wear it out or they’ll notice.” I continued pondering out loud. Then an idea dawned upon me. The car! No one would notice if I stuck it into the little pocket in the back seat of the car where the travel maps were. I quickly dashed down the stairs, making a lot of creaking. “David is that you!?” shouted my grandmother. “Yea Grandma I’m washing the dishes!” I said, thinking this would be convincing.
“That’s nice of you! I’ll come and help!” Damn…This was not good. I had the diaper in plain sight in my hand…I quickly stashed it under one of the cushions on a dining room chair. Grandma came in and they did the dishes…. “Phew.” I thought quietly to myself. That was a close call, but now I made up another excuse as Grandma was leaving to go back to the living room. “I’ll be right in, Grandma, I’m just going to grab a bag of nachos from the pantry!” I dashed out the kitchen door, and opened Mom’s car door, and shoved the diaper under the front seat. I quickly dashed in and put the nachos onto the couch next to Grandma. Before I knew it, it was time for the ride home. I fell asleep in the car, woke up later, and slid the diaper in my pocket. I took a bag of goodies in with me and held it over my pocket to make sure the diaper was concealed. I put them in the kitchen and then ran up the nearby stairs to my room…
I woke up; it was 8:30 am. Since it was the Saturday after Christmas, I was free to do as I pleased for about another hour. At thirteen years old I was ready for my first diaper “episode” in seven years. I pulled the diaper out from under my bed, unfolded it, and slid it up my legs. It fit very snugly around his waist, and I went back to bed, stretching my legs far apart from each other. When I woke up, I found that the left side of the diaper had snapped, making it look more like a diaper, and the right side had almost snapped. This disappointed me, but then I realized I did something I wanted to do. I had made a full fledged diaper and one that was almost my size, no less. The part that had wrapped around my thigh had been stretched far enough to accommodate my thighs. I went into the computer room quietly, so as not to wake my parents. I grabbed the masking tape, which was thick and sticky, and put two pieces of tape on either side of the back of the diaper. Success! I lay down on the diaper and taped myself in. It fit more comfortably than last time, and seemed more real, too.
STOP!
What is
stated above this line really happened.
What is stated below this line did not
really happen.
Six months had passed since I had acquired my diaper, which I had not yet soiled or wet, because I only had one to do that in. However, everyone has accidents sometime, and it just so happened that I was about to get a birthday surprise. My birthday was June 2nd, and June 2nd was today. I hopped out of bed, and then noticed something. I looked down, and saw that my diaper sank a little. I looked in and saw, and felt, a very wet diaper against my groin and buttocks. I was very unhappy with myself, because I had not wet the bed in ten years. I had not even wet the bed when I was an every-day diaper wearer, during the ages 4, 5, and 6. I was very disappointed in myself for this. I sighed, and fell back onto my bed, doing a loud wrestling move in the process, the blind head-butt. After about half a minute I realized what I had done! I heard my mom waking up through the thin wall on the other side, and struggled to get the diaper off without ruining it. Too late! The door opened “David, For the thousandth time, no wrestling moves in the morning dear…David…is that a…diaper you are wearing?” My mother’s mouth was hanging open, and she looked both shocked and confused. “Why would you be doing such a thing? You don’t need diapers.” “Yea Mom, it’s this interest I have….Sorry.” I said with a blush on my cheeks, hoping Mom hadn’t noticed that the diaper was also saggy as well. “Well David, pardon my saying so but it’s a bit weird, and I’d prefer if you indulged this interest of yours when your older.” Said Mom, who was typically not very angered by most of the things I did.
“OK Mom.” I said. Mom shut the door, and then I remembered I was supposed to call Dad today to see if he could do something with me for my birthday. My father lived with Grandma and Grandpa, so it also meant seeing them. I got up, peeled off the saggy diaper which I tossed in the garbage, and called up Dad. We talked for a little while, and agreed that the coming weekend would be fine. I put down the phone, and then realized that “the coming weekend” was tomorrow. I quickly showered and got dressed, and Mom told me we were going over to my Aunt’s house again today. Needless to say, I repeated the same routine of seizing a diaper and putting it under Mom’s car seat. I got it home without any trouble, and then packed my things for the weekend at my father’s. Mom and I set out for the trip to my Dad’s at about 11:30 am the next morning, and we met Dad in New Paltz, a small town about an hour away from Dad’s house. I switched cars and rode to Dad’s house. We talked while in the car, about a lot of things. Dad and I arrived at his house after approximately an hour, and stepped inside. My grandmother was there to greet me as usual, and led me into my room. I put my things on my bed, and went out into the dining room for dinner. I had spaghetti, and particularly a lot to drink. I then realized I had to piss badly, so I ran into my room and instinctively pulled one of my diapers (which I had packed) out of my bag, and threw myself on the bed, and began diapering myself.
Suddenly, to my surprise and dismay, the door swung open, it was Grandma. “David, you forgot to say excuse me before you left the-Is that a diaper?” Grandma asked, now completely shocked and surprised. “What do you, wet during the day now too?” asked Grandma. She asked this question because she had not seen me in about five years, save Christmas, for which she did not stay overnight, and five years ago she was insistent on dressing me in my night clothes back then. My night clothes when I was nine were chosen by Grandma (it should be obvious now that she’s a control freak) and they consisted of custom made footie pajamas and a pull-up diaper. This is mainly why she asked “Do you wet >During the day now too<” instead of just “Do you wet yourself or something?” Seeing this as a golden opportunity for me to score some time in diapers, I nodded my head, pretending to be embarrassed. “How many diapers did you bring with you?” said Grandma, still having the shocked look on her face. “Two.” I said, now recovering from my shock and taping up my diaper. “Well, that is too small for you. You should have told me on the phone, I would have bought you some diapers and a new pair of footie pajamas. Oh this is wonderful, I’ll treat you like a tiny little baby again.” I then realized what I was in for…I had set himself up for the biggest control-freaking ever performed by my Grandma. Grandma came over and finished taping up my diaper, which I then quickly wet, since I had the urge to piss beforehand due to all the drinks I had during dinner. “Oh my, looks like baby is wet.” Said Grandma, who was now delighted at the thought of being able to control her 14 year old grandson and make him a cute little baby. She searched my pack without asking me and pulled out the other diaper. She un-taped the one I had on, pulled it out from under my butt, and slid the new one under. She went into the bathroom and came back with a roll of toilet paper, which she used to wipe my groin area, and then taped up the new diaper. “Well, since this is the last one, I suppose I had better be off to the store to buy my baby some new things.” She said, giggling now that she had changed me and enjoyed it. I sat there motionless, contemplating what had just happened.
After about a half an hour, I got up and walked through the house to the living room, where I sat down next to my grandpa. “Isn’t it a little early in the evening to be wearing your pull-ups?” said Grandpa. “Yea I guess, Grandma put it on me.” I said, trying to act like I didn’t really think much of it, and I was hoping Grandpa wouldn’t notice that it was a Pamper and not a pull-up. Little did I realize that it would be impossible to hide that fact from everyone I knew it weeks to come. I felt the urge to piss, but then remembered what I was wearing and realized a stream of piss into my diaper, which leaked due to the fact that it wasn’t used to that much liquid all at once. Grandma walked in carrying two bags which were packed to the brim with things. “Well, looks like somebody has been busy, come along David.” she said, and she took me by the hand and led me into my bedroom. She scrounged through her bag, and pulled out a package of Huggies® Supreme diapers, and put it on the bed. She then pulled out a plastic pad, which was apparently a changing pad, and put it on the bed. She then took me by the shoulders and escorted me to the bed where she beckoned me to lay on the pad. I did as I was told, still docile from the day’s earlier incident. She removed the wet diaper, and slid a new one under my butt. She then scrounged through the bag again, and pulled out some baby wipes and powder. She wiped my groin area and then sprinkled the powder on me. She then pulled the diaper over my front-side and taped it up. She went digging through the bag again and pulled out a pacifier, which was inserted into my mouth. Apparently she was taking this the whole nine yards, and she made it clear to me that babies didn’t talk, and I was not to talk, either. She picked me up off the changing pad, and pulled my shirt off of me. She replaced it with a babyish blue short-sleeved shirt with a teddy bear print on it. The teddy bear print matched the prints on the front of my diaper. She then patted my head, took one of the bags, and left the room.
Curious with what else she had bought, I looked into the remaining bag. I found 2 packages of diapers, Huggies Ultratrim® size 10, unopened, and Huggies Supreme® size 10, opened. I found 5 baby bottles, another pacifier (besides the one in my mouth) 2 boxes of baby wipes, and at the bottom, a custom made, unassembled crib, completely with a baby blanket. I fell back on my bed in awe, not knowing this would be the last time I was going to be laying on it. I then realized I had to poop, and poop I did. It came out of my diaper and smeared up against my backside. Grandma walked in, and immediately said, “Phew! This will be your third change today, keep it up and I’ll have to call you ‘stinker’.” She said grinning. She walked over to me and put me onto the changing pad. She un-taped my diaper and slid it out from under me. She told me to lift my butt up which I did, and she repeatedly wiped my rear with baby wipes. When I was done being cleaned up she sprinkled some powder on me and slid a fresh diaper under my butt, and taped it up. She pulled me up off the bed which she then began to tug. She left the room and came back about two minutes later with my dad, and I quickly hid behind a table so Dad wouldn’t see me in my diapers. Together, Grandma and Dad carried the bed out of the room, and Grandma came back in and assembled the crib. She then unfolded the baby blanket and put it inside the crib. “Okay baby, time for you to go sleepy-byes.” she said, grinning, and she pulled the side of the crib down and motioned for me to get in. I did as I was told, still in shock from the fact that I was being treated like a baby. My Grandma pulled the blanket up over me and pulled the pacifier out of my mouth, replacing it with a bottle of milk. I dropped it out of my mouth and went to sleep.
I woke up and, much to my content, realized I had the urge to pee, and did so, right in my diaper. I then looked around for a way out of the crib. I saw the latch and flicked it with my finger. The side of the crib fell down. As I was getting out of “bed,” my Grandmother walked in, much to my surprise. “Well, does baby need a change?” she said with a smile on her face. She motioned me over to a changing table which had apparently been put in my room while I was asleep. She un-taped my diaper, pulled it out from under me, and replaced it with a fresh one. I was then allowed to go and do something, so I decided to watch TV. After about 5 hours, Grandma came in with all of my things in a diaper bag, and told me it was time to leave to go back home. I was escorted to the car and Grandma popped a pacifier into my mouth. Dad then came out the front door, and needless to say, gave me a really weird look. He drove me home and didn’t say a word to me the whole way there.
When Mom laid eyes on me she said, “David, I thought I told you not to indulge this interest in our house.” she said with a stern look on her face. “I couldn’t help it, Grandma caught my diapering myself and took it to the extreme by treating me like a baby.” “Well, guess what, I’m taking it to the extreme, too. Since you disobeyed me, you will go to school like this tomorrow.” I pissed my diaper when she said this and began leaking. “Oh please Mom, No! You can’t be serious! I will be laughed out of my school, I will probably get rejected from college if word gets to Princeton…Please no!” I cried . “Too late for that…You broke the rules and now you’ll suffer the consequences…and apparently you need a diaper change.” I now realized just what he had gotten myself into. Mom took me into the house, scrounged through my diaper bag, and pulled out one of the oversized Huggies. She un-taped my diaper and pulled it out from under me, wiped my crotch, and then sprinkled some powder on me. She commanded me sternly to lift my butt, and she slid the new diaper under me and taped it up. She then grabbed my pacifier from the diaper bag and stuck it in my mouth. “You’re going to school like this tomorrow, or your getting your behind flogged…without diapers on.” She said sternly. I sighed unnoticeably due to the pacifier in my mouth, and got up off the floor and went to my bedroom.
I turned on my computer and went to several diaper-lover oriented websites, and then played a few games of StarCraft. The phone rang after I was done beating down the Zerg with a Protoss Zealot army. “Hi.” said the voice, I identified it as my friend Amanda (who was a girl and had been dating me for a little bit, not seriously…yet.) “Hi.” I said back, now of course trying to ignore the fact that I had a diaper on. “So how did your visit with your Dad go?” she asked. “Dull as usual.” I replied. “So are we still on for tomorrow night? We’re gonna go see Triple X, right?” asked Amanda “That new spy movie with the bald dude? Sure I guess. “ I answered. “Ok, cool. I guess I’ll see ya then.” said Amanda. “Bye, Pooh-Bear.” I said. “Bye, Maverick” replied Amanda in her sappiest romantic advice. (Those are our pet names for each other.) I looked down at my now pooped-in diaper, and it ironically had Winnie the Pooh on it, I then went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Mom then walked in. “Did you poop yourself? Phew…It’s stinking up the whole house. Come downstairs and get changed now,” she said. I went downstairs where she was waiting. She motioned for me to lay down on the floor, and I did as I was told. She un-taped the diaper and began wiping my butt with several baby wipes from the diaper bag my grandma had packed. When she was done (it took about 15 minutes because I am a 14-year-old and not a 3-year-old) she pulled out a new diaper and told me to lift. I did so, and she slid the diaper under my butt, and taped it up. I then went upstairs, climbed into bed, and thought. I was happy that I was sleeping in a bed again…My little baby episode had been unpleasant, and still was unpleasant. I only had a diaper fetish, not a baby fetish…
I woke up and rolled out of bed, and to my surprise, was wearing a wet diaper. This shocked me somewhat because of the fact that I had been peeing and pooping in them of my own free will. My mother walked in casually, not respecting my right to privacy (something that I would get little of for the rest of my teenage-life) and put a fresh diaper on my bed. She told me to lay on my bed, and I did so. She un-taped my old diaper, slid it out from under me, wiped my crotch, and sprinkled it. She then put a new diaper under my butt and fastened the tapes. She popped the pacifier in my mouth and looked me over. “Hmm…” she said. “Aha. I know. For a finishing touch…” She produced a bonnet and put it on my head, and then a shirt that said “I’m a big baby, give me a hug.” And put that on me, too. “There…All set for humiliation day. This is what happens to bad widdle babies who don’t do what they’re told!”
I was escorted by Mom out the front door and onto my bus…some first day of High School. She buckled me in the front seat, and the bus driver didn’t give me a second look, however, every kid on the bus did. They all called me names like “Pissing Pampers Pants” and “Waterworks.” A few kids even threw stuff at me. The bus driver gave notice to this, and when they got to school, she unfastened my seat belt and walked me inside, holding my hand. I sucked on my pacifier out of anxiety. The Asst. Principal was standing near the door. “Dave…Quite the spectacle you are…go to the nurse’s office.” he said. I did as I was told, and everyone gave me queer looks and called me names. When I got there the nurse, Mrs. Isringhausen, said “Well…This is quite the thing to see in a high school. Go lie on the bed and I will be in with you in a moment.” I went into the small room for sick teens to the right of the office. The nurse came in shortly. “Alright, this is what I have been instructed to tell you…This is a punishment from your mother, and she has worked very hard to make sure that everyone in this school keeps that punishment going. She has also told just about everyone in the school except the janitors and students that this is happening to. Most of the faculty and staff have agreed to go along with it, myself included. All the staff that agreed to this will change you, feed you, replace your pacifier, and will not call on you in class due to the fact that you can’t talk.” I smiled at this, though it was barely noticeable due to my pacifier. Apparently there was some ups to this situation. “Now, just to make sure you get changed, whether you like it or not…” said the nurse in an accusing tone. “You will be wearing different diapers supplied by your mother.” The nurse went under the bed and pulled out a package of size 9 Luvs™ overnight diapers. She removed one from the package, it was disposable and crinkled a lot. “The stars on this will glow green whenever you wet yourself…so all the staff will know when you need a change. As for pooping…well the smell is self explanatory there…” She took off the diaper he had on and replaced it with the Luvs™ diaper she had gotten out of the package.
I went through the day, getting mocked and ridiculed. I had my diaper changed 3 times…2 from pee and one from poop. Also, the nurse fed me baby food for lunch…I was nearly mocked out of the school and could barely stay sane…All my teachers (the ones who had to change me) brought me in the front of the class and did it right where everyone could see. When the day was over, I could not have been more pleased. I got on the bus and rode to my house. I was now getting the usual mocking…I peed into my diaper out of anxiety for my situation. The bus stopped in front of my house, and I got off eagerly. I trudged in, and my Mom changed my soaked diapers. I walked up to my room and fell face first onto my bed…Contemplating how much more living hell I would have to go through before it was all said and done.
To Be Continued…
Coming soon “The
Good Old Days Part 3: Teenage Years In Diapers”