Didee DiapeRS
OF BOYS
AND
DIAPERS
A Truthful Account on
How a Diaper
Seduced his
Bedwetting Boy
into Pooping and More!
PART TWO
Chapters 4, 5, 6
Incontinental drift
“Ok, let’s take a real good look at the world’s
map. What do we see? Robert?”
“The oceans occupy the most of it.”
“That’s right, isn’t it? The oceans cover in
fact more than two thirds of the Earth, which is why our planet is also called
the blue planet.”
All that poop! And the smell!
“What else can we see in the world’s map? Anyone?”
“If the oceans cover two thirds than the land
must be one third.”
“She’s got a point there, hasn’t she? If two
thirds of the Earth are covered by the oceans, than there is a third left which
is land.”
As his mother entered the room he got a bit frightened.
He thought she was going to be mad at him for all that mess. “What happened?”
she asked surprised, and he immediately spitted out what the diaper suggested
the night before. “It was an accident, mom!” “An accident?”
He nodded like a little kid, without looking at her.
“But look again carefully at the world’s map,
look at the continents. How many are there? Linda?”
“Five –
“Does everyone agree with that? Do we have five
continents on that map?”
“Well, at least you had a proper diaper on!
Imagine what would have happened had you worn just the pull-ons!
Now don’t move, I’m going to remove that diaper and clean you up right there,
otherwise the mess will be all over the house!” she said.
“If you look carefully you will see that there is
one more continent. Can you see that white mass down there? Does anyone know
what it is called?”
He looked at the white mass down there and
watched his mother opening the plastic pants and unfastening the tapes of the
disposable. He could see now that it was really drenched, swollen, compact and slightly
yellow. As she removed the top part of the cloth soaker, the smell became even
stronger. “Look at that!” his mother said with disbelief. ‘This is my poop.
This is my poop. It comes out of my body, it was in my body. There is nothing
wrong with it, it is just a part of me which I give to
the world. This is my poop, this is my nice strong
poop. It comes out of my body, it was in my body…’ said to himself the boy, as
he repeated the lines the diaper had taught him.
As none of the pupils answered, the teacher
said:
“It is called
“Than the North Pole must be a continent too!”
said a fat boy with glasses.
“No, Danny, the North Pole or, better said, ‘Arctica’ is a mass of ice floating on the ocean. There is
no seventh continent, they are only six. Now look carefully at the continents,
what else can you see?”
His mother lifted his legs with one hand, as if
he were a little baby, and removed the soiled diaper. As she went to the
bathroom with the stinky and heavy packet, he lied on the towel she had put underneath
his bottom and watched his little pee pee, which
looked even smaller than usual, as if deflated and exhausted for all the pee it
had made during the night.
“Ok, class, I will give you a hint. Look
carefully at the shapes of the continents – do you notice anything?”
“Er… South America
and
“Good boy! That’s it! Can you all see what
Robert just said?”
‘Good boy!’ he thought of himself, as mom came
back and started wiping his butt off with a sponge she would plunge at every
move in a bucket of lukewarm water. Oh, that was such an awesome feeling! ‘Good
boy! Wetting and messing his didee like a good baby
boy!’ he would repeat to himself as he felt the warm sponge licking up his
butt.
“It was a German scientist by the name of
Alfred Wegener who noticed how South America and
“Now you can get up and take a shower. You know
this means you will have to wear the thick diaper and plastic pants every night
now, do you?” said his mother as she finished the cleaning up. “Yes, mommy…” he
replied shyly and jumped out of the bed to ran towards
the bathroom, where he could see the folded dirty diaper lying on the floor.
‘Good baby boy!’ he repeated over and over as he took the shower, and while
doing that he took a good look at the white shower curtain. “Oh!” he exclaimed
at one point. He realised for the first time in his life that the plastics of
the curtain was exactly of the same kind of his plastic pants! He touched it to
confirm his observation and said “Yeah!” He imagined himself trapped into a
huge pair of plastic pants for a moment and felt an itch in his pee-pee area. All that water pouring in the shower and not a single drop falling
out. What difference would it made if he peed in the shower? He turned
right against the curtain, ready to release his pee against the huge ‘plastic
pants’.
“Are you with us at all this morning?” said the
teacher to him, interrupting his reverie.
“Sir?” the boy replied as if suddenly emerging
from a trance.
“Do you know what we are talking about?”
“Mhh… yeah, the
continents!” said the boy as if trying to make up for his distraction.
“Good. So do you have anything to say or ask
about Professor Wegener’s hypothesis?”
“Could I go to the bathroom? Sir?”
The class burst out with laughter.
“We just started our lessons ten minutes ago”,
said the teacher in a dry voice, “Couldn’t you go before the lesson started?”
“S… sorry, s… sir…” he stammered, “I did not
feel the need to go then”
“You go to the bathroom now, but I want you to
come back with something to say about Wegener’s
theory!”
The boy stood up and ran to the bathroom, as
the class kept laughing. He arrived in the bathroom – it was so far! - just in time to flush his pee into the toilet. Maybe his pee
pee was becoming smaller through the use of diapers
at night! It wasn’t that much pee either, it just felt like he hadn’t gone to
the bathroom for ages! But why?
As he came back to the classroom he realised
with disappointment that the teacher had not forgotten about the question left
for him to answer. He tried to concoct something about the continents moving
far away from each other until they would eventually crash against each other
on the other side of the planet.
“Yeah…” said the teacher with
surprise. “That
is more or less what Wegener thought himself too! Not
bad! Not bad!”
The rest of the morning the boy tried to keep
his reverie under control, but he had to go to the bathroom two more times,
causing more laughter among his mates and amazement among the teachers. Those
three times he ran to the bathroom in one morning were enough for the whole
school to learn the new name his was given. From now on he was ‘The wetter’.
As he was on his way home he didn’t even bother
picturing cranes and excavators in his mind, and let the diaper imagery take
over his thoughts from the start. He would think now of the first night he had
to put on the thick diaper and the plastic pants, of his cousin smiling more
and more cheekily at each time while being diapered in front of every one, of
the “talk” with the diaper the previous night. Was that all imagination? And every time you feel your didee is poopy and wet, like every good diaper baby boy,
you feel rewarded for having pooped and wet uncontrollably your nice thick
diaper by such a feeling of well being, pleasure and happiness, that you pat
your diaper and say to yourself “Good boy! Good baby boy! I am such a good baby
boy! It is so right, good and normal to be in wet and messy diapers and I am so
glad, satisfied and happy for being a good baby diaper boy. I am so proud that
I behaved so good, like a little baby helplessly
wetting and messing my diaper.” Where did that come from? Oh, who cared. He would find himself thinking of the shower and his
nice stream of pee happily splashing against the plastic curtain and draining
downwards. Could he feel his pee pee itching again?
And as usual, at a certain stage of this kind of reverie he had from school to
home, he would catch himself running instead of walking, only this time for a
good reason – he had to go to the bathroom and quick!
His dog looked puzzled as he ran past him,
“Sorry! Sorry! I got to go!” he excused himself, feeling his wet tip demanding
the soonest relief. As he planted himself in front of the toilet he almost tore
down his trousers to find out that the wetness had already contaminated a small
area of his underwear and a smaller one on his trousers. “My God!” he said as
he felt the rest of the pee plummeting toward the toilet, “What is going on!”
And again the amount of pee would be ridiculously small compared to the urge he
felt. You are a baby and you can’t help
wetting and pooping without control, but you are a good baby and you know that
it is normal for you to have to wear diapers to keep your bed and clothes nice
and clean. And the more you pee and poop in your diapers, the more you will be
reminded of what you still are: A baby who needs to wear diapers and plastic
pants to keep your clothes and bed dry and clean.
He could only think of one thing to do to keep
his peeing urges under control and sneaked into his room, closed the door
behind him, and went straight to the drawer where a package of pull-ons was still there. He grabbed one of them and put it on.
This was so right! He really felt he was behaving like the good boy he wanted
to be. He did not want to tell mom, though. And pulled his
boy underwear and trousers on the wetting pants. Good boy! He could now
devote himself to playing without fear of the peeing urges anymore.
In the following days he always wore the pull-ons underneath his underwear, though he would still make
use of the toilet, taking advantage of the possibility of pulling off the
wetting pants whenever he needed to. The nicest thing was that his mates and
friends did not notice at all he was wearing pull-ons!
Nobody did! Those stupid people kept calling him ‘the wetter’ but didn’t have a
clue as to what he was wearing! He felt a real cool good boy, dutifully wearing
diapers and knew that the thick baby diaper he wore at night approved what he
was doing, though he did not ask it about its opinion. There was simply no
time! At night his diaper would teach him how to be a baby again. He would now
walk and crawl around his room for a while before going to sleep. He was amazed
at the ability of the stubborn diaper to make its bulky presence felt in all
the postures he would take, never letting go, always nicely tight on him!
Now pee in your didee like a good baby boy!
And the boy obeyed, wetting his diaper while
crawling or sitting on the floor, his heels feeling the thrilling touch of the
plastic pants on his bottom. He felt such a sense of freedom he didn’t know a
boy his age could have. Peeing without control was becoming for him a much more
natural activity. He would more and more catch himself wetting his thick diaper
while playing with a toy car and realising he could not remember starting the
peeing!
I bet you can’t poop
while you are crawling!
The diaper would often challenge him like that
and he would proudly prove that the diaper was wrong. Of course he could poop
while crawling, and fill his didee with quite a doo doo too! He would then crawl
faster and faster, just too feel the happy lump bouncing up and down in his didee, or sit down to feel it cheerfully squash below his
butt.
He would suck his thumb and yearn for a real
pacifier. He would make baby sounds while lying in bed sucking his thumb and
wildly shaking his legs. It was so nice! And easy! He was amazed at how quickly
his body and mind responded naturally to such simple things. He knew now he had
been a baby, because none of that could be faked. None of that could be
imitated, unless you had been a real baby! And he was a real baby! He could
feel this long forgotten, yet longed for, part of his being coming back more
and more, taking over. This was what he was, a baby, no matter what other people
saw when they looked at him, he knew he was a baby, and he could sense that not
only his body and mind were adjusting to this fundamental truth about him, but
that also the external world was taking note and sending messages concerning
his new situation.
Therefore, he wasn’t so much surprised as he
went to bed one night and realised, while being diapered by mom,
that his old teddy bear was back! He did not show he noticed the new
happy presence, nor did mom say anything about it, though it was obvious that
she did it, she was the only one who could have thought of retrieving that
dusty cuddly bear from some remote place in the cellar, cleaning it up and put
it in bed for her baby son to enjoy. And as she left the room, she knew the
first thing her boy would do, would be to grab the teddy and cuddle it like he
used to do when he was smaller. Indeed, one could have not seen a happier baby
boy that night! He kissed and cuddled his teddy like crazy and made him kiss
also his diaper, to introduce the two of them, though the two had known each
other for a much longer time the boy could imagine. The boy could tell his
teddy was happy too, as this cuddled him back with his disproportionately big
furry paws. ‘You are such a big boy now!’ the teddy seemed to say with a
puzzled, big eyed expression, only to plunge onto the boy’s face afterwards and
kiss him with the clumsy tenderness the boy remembered from his baby days. The two spent hours making up for the time they hadn’t seen each
other, telling one another what they did in the last two years. Most of
the reunion was happy, but there were also sad moments, with teddy weeping and
sobbing, explaining how lonely he had felt down in that dark cellar, feeling
the dust ominously covering him as weeks and months went by. ‘A teddy bear
without his boy is nothing!’ he would whimper, ‘Each
of us is assigned to a little boy at the start of our existences, a little baby
boy which will make us meaningful and bring us to life thanks to his
unconditional love. We all dread the day in which that little boy will
eventually grow and, what is worse, will grow tired of
us. I thought that day had come already and now I am so happy to be with you
again! Because each of us will be the teddy bear of only one boy and you are my
boy and I am your teddy. Please, please, don’t leave me a second time, I would
not know how I could survive it!’. And as teddy cried,
the boy would console him with little sweet pats on his little cute furry bum.
“Hush… hush…”, he would say from time to time,
cuddling him and kissing him as sweetly as he could. The boy felt so awful. He
did not realise he had hurt the teddy bear so much! But he would be a good boy now, he would make sure his teddy would feel the most loved
teddy on the planet! “Don’t worry, Teddy! We won’t part any more, I promise
you!” The biggest smile he could make was on his face as he finally fell asleep
that night, embracing his little teddy and making the oath never to leave him
again.
Days passed and the reserve of pull-ons was running out. The first two or three days he still
managed to use them mainly as underwear, but the times when he arrived at the
bathroom too late were increasing and he would find himself more and more often
in front of a toilet with a very wet pull-on and nothing left to be squeezed
out of his pee pee. He did not know what to say to
his parents. Should he have asked them to buy more? What would they have said?
As night is the mother of advice, he decided to
sleep over the issue and see what to do the following day. That night, he
played again baby for a while and then mounted on the bed, grabbed his
wonderful teddy and fell asleep sucking his thumb. Though the boy had not said
a word about his pull-on problem, the diaper knew the issue was tormenting him.
He grew more and more obsessed about the boy and fond of him, and most
importantly of all, it knew the feeling was reciprocal. The diaper knew the boy
was facing a vital dilemma, a dilemma which, once broken, would determine the
future of the boy in a permanent way. The diaper wanted to help and decided to
increase its brain-stimulating activity to the maximum that night. Waves of
electricity went to and fro between the part of the body covered by the wet
thick diaper, the drooling mouth sucking the thumb, the arm folded around the
teddy and the sleepless brain. Neural patterns searched for the best images and
sounds in the memory archive, trying the best combinations, interpolating gaps
made of unlived experiences with existing data, concocting the best dream the
boy ever had. Lights, sounds, movements and touch –
everything so perfect, more real than real life. Patterns and routines,
lines and gestures rehearsed thousands of times before entering the boy’s
subconscious dreaming mind. After a few hours, everything was ready for the
dreaming boy to enter the theatre and take part to the show!
The boy and his mom arrived at his auntie’s
house on a vacation day. He was in the same living room where his cousin was
changed in front of everyone two years ago. The same living room… only his
cousin wasn’t there! His auntie would cheerfully say hello to him and mom. “So,
how is my beautiful nephew?” asked mom. “O, he’s upstairs and he is fine… and
still wearing the damn diaper! I don’t think he’ll ever grow out of it, I’ve
given up!” replied auntie, half resigned and half amused, and then spoke
directly to him, “But you! You are a big boy now! You’ve changed so much! I can
see you are doing fine!” “Well… yeah, you can say so”, said his mother, “apart
from… er, honey, why don’t you go upstairs and play
with your cousin while I carry on chatting with auntie?”
He went upstairs, his heart beating like mad! His cousin still wearing diapers? At age five? He could not
believe it! As he entered his cousin’s room, he saw a boy standing on his knees
on the floor, turning his back on him. He looked bigger than a five-year-old,
his body showing an athletic structure to be, wide shoulders, slim hip,
powerful thighs, though still retaining a nice baby belly. He had short brown
hair, which made his cute little bat ears more evident and wore nothing but a
disposable white diaper, which fitted him perfectly, tightly embracing him all
around his waist, bulging with a nice elegant curve through his thighs and
building a nice flat square packet on his buttocks, exactly as it does on
babies and toddlers. When staring at the diaper, one could see little elephants
appearing on the squared up bottom of the boy and a nice light blue rectangular
shape just below the waist line which marked the width of the diaper middle
section, the part in charge of wicking up the boy’s pee. Because the diaper is part of the baby’s body, its plastics or plastic
pants being his skin and his fluffy bulge being his muscles. And the baby is
the moving limbs, body and head of the diaper, the diaper’s mean to sense and
interact with the world. The baby and the diaper are one,
the two form together the eternal image of perfect happiness. How true that
was! And how cool his cousin looked! He was the perfect image of a diaper-boy,
the most natural diaper-wearer he could think of. He was fascinated by this
prince of light wearing his diaper with the most enviable ease he could feel. He
could see now how that beautiful boy wasn’t just wearing a diaper – he was wearing his
very own diaper, and, in a sense, he was
the human manifestation of the diaper! Strong and tender, happy and bright –
the boy and the diaper were one being, a diaper-boy or a boy-diaper. Our wetter
could see now that his cousin was his role model, his inspiration, his twin soul,
and always had been!
“Hi!” said his cousin as he turned his head
toward him. The same smile! He had certainly grown since the last time he saw
him, but the smile was exactly the same, a wide smile with closed lips,
irresistibly cheeky, and yet kind, his eyes radiating genuine happiness and an
unsuspected wisdom for his age.
“H.. hi!”, he could
feel his face blushing, hating himself for returning his most welcoming cousin
with such a display of weakness and embarrassment.
His cousin stood up and turned to him. “Come.”,
he said extending his hand, “Do you want to play with me?”
He could see now the shiny whiteness bulging on
the front part of the beautiful boy’s diaper, a whiteness
made more evident by the slightly opaque white of the tapes on the sides and a
colourful strip printed with little elephants below the waist line. There was no
sign of wetness - the boy had probably been changed just before their arrival –
and the diaper proudly bulged in the most glorious way it was capable of.
He found himself having his hand taken by his
cousin who led him toward a drawer. He was so taken by surprise by this little
cousin treating him not like an older boy, but like a peer! Indeed his cousin
was the leader between the two, he was the accomplice,
the guide, the wiser guy introducing him to unknown mysteries of beauty and
happiness. He couldn’t help admiring him for the self-confidence and strength
emanating from him while wearing nothing but a diaper. A five-year-old in
nothing but diapers, the very image of weakness, stupidity, hopeless retard was
proving to be the exact opposite – strength, brightness and leadership!
“These are my toys”, said his cousin and opened
the first drawer. A plethora of little cars and trucks appeared before his eyes
– tens of different vehicles, of different shapes and colours, all lined up
neatly as if the drawer were a tiny parking lot. “I’ve got more!” the cousin
said, barely masking his sense of pride in possessing so many cars. As he
opened the second drawer, one could see these were the one he cherished the
most. The wetter rejoiced as he saw a little excavator among the vehicles, an
excavator exactly like the one he used to picture in his mind when doing his
mental games. “Hey, I like excavators too!” he said, happy to have one subject
to share with his little cousin, “Have you got also cranes?” “Yeah, look”
replied the five-year-old diaper beauty as he opened a third drawer containing
a very accurate reproduction in smaller scale of a real crane and uncountable
building blocks. “You wanna play building?” asked the
cousin. “Yeah!” he answered enthusiastically.
The two boys sat down on the carpet in the
centre of the room and sorted out the building blocks. “What shall we build?”
he asked. “A skyscraper!”, said the younger boy, “A
very big, big skyscraper!”, and the kid started “operating” the excavator,
moving it on the surface between his wide open legs, digging imaginary holes in
the carpet and making the sounds of the machine. The older boy was on his knees
in front of him, putting the pieces of the crane together. No matter how much
he loved what he was doing, he couldn’t fail to take a look from time to time at
his cousin’s diaper and eventually saw a darker spot growing in size… The
little boy did not seem at all to be aware that he was wetting – he just
carried on moving the excavator, completely absorbed by that activity. As the
old boy tried to conceal his curiosity, he was fascinated by the fact that the
speed with which the dark spot grew seemed to increase whenever the child
accompanied the movements of the excavator with a loud “Roar!”
“The hole is ready!” said triumphantly the
diaper boy, “Now you must bring the blocks here with the crane!”
The crane performed its task dutifully,
bringing one piece after the other to the “site”, while the diaper boy started
putting them together. He was now sitting by the side of his older cousin, his
thighs wide open, but the legs folded underneath, his feet plants hosting the
diaper bulk jumping up and down as he leaned forward and backward to pick up
the blocks left by the crane and put them together. As no sounds were made to
accompany the building activity, all one could hear was the diaper plastics
crinkling and swishing with every movement. At some point the younger boy bent
forward in the effort to try to put together two blocks which wouldn’t match.
The older boy involuntarily threw a look at the diapered bottom of the kid and saw
the bulk growing in size! Immediately afterwards the kid sat back on his feet
plants and the room was filled with an unequivocal smell.
He closed his eyes and let the pungent smell
emanating from his cousin’s pooped diaper envelop him, invade his body. He
opened his nostrils to the maximum and inhaled as much of the sweetly acid
odour he could, as if it were some sort of drug. He could feel something new
happening to him, a transformation he could not fully understand, but knew was
right. The smell permeated the whole room, his cousin, his own body, all were
one, all were that smell, everything was everywhere and everything was
everything else. He could feel a profound intimacy with his little cousin, a
closeness he had never experienced before with anyone. He felt drenched by the
kid’s pee and an increase of temperature told him his cousin was peeing right
now… on his face, in his face! He
could feel his own face cells wicking up the crystal clear baby juice and
diffusing it through the depths of his face muscles. Still uncertain about what
was happening, but feeling the irresistible urge to savour every droplet of the
kid’s liquid, he became aware of the smelly presence of the boy’s poop in his lap! He realised then that he was
wrapped around the kid’s lower part of the abdomen, his own arms and legs
tightly embracing the kid’s hips! For a timeless moment he was his cousin’s
diaper, gently cuddling his private parts and bum, affectionately absorbing his
innocent fluids, firmly holding his cheeky poop in place, and feeling his
cousin’s endless gratitude for it. As he opened his eyes again, he found himself
gliding, almost hovering, over his cousin’s little penis, his navel, his chest
until he stopped right in front of his eyes, the tip of his own nose against
the tip of his cousin’s nose. He realised he was now of about the same height
of the diaper boy! The two boys were standing in front of each other, pressed
against each other and wearing the same diaper! They were sharing the same warm, wet and poopy diaper! His cousin smiled and
smiled! All he could see was his cousin’s face so close, but then the kid
started shrinking downwards until he disappeared in the diaper, which got
warmer, brighter and whiter! He patted the diaper lightly and then started
caressing it delicately and the diaper responded by tightening its grip around
him. He could feel the smile of his cousin in the warm, thick diaper and closed
his eyes. A warm sprinkle of pee came out of him involuntarily, without
thinking, of its own will! As if summoned by a thirsty desire dwelling in his diaper.
He knew it was his wonderful diaper-cousin making him experience what total
loss of control really meant. And as he yielded even more to the diaper’s
yearnings he became aware of a load of brown matter coming out by its own will from his body.
As he opened his eyes again the two boys were
in the living room, lying on the floor side by side, holding hands and smiling to
each other, while their respective mothers were changing their diapers in front
of the whole family! He could feel the eyes of all people staring at him, while
his mother lifted his legs and wiped the poop off his bum, exposing his private
parts for everyone to see. He felt so vulnerable, so embarrassed, his face
becoming redder and redder.
“This is the deal” he heard his
cousin say as the young kid squeezed his hand, “The world will let you wear diapers as
long as you will let them see your privates and give them your pee and poop in
return.”
“If you wish” added his mother, “to wear
diapers forever, then you must relinquish the control of your private parts to
us. They will be no longer your ‘private’ parts, because there won’t be
anything private about your whole body anymore.” And as the new diaper unfolded
in his mother’s hands, he could hear it crinkle and say
‘cause
I’m the one who by hiding reveals,
‘cause
I’m the one who… implies what is hidden,
‘cause
I’m the one who by showing conceals!
You shall no longer
refuse what is bidden,
You shall no longer decide
when to pee,
You shall no longer
dispose of your midden!
And what escapes from
your body will see
Anyone present when
diapers will change,
Answering questions on
WHY you need me!
You are on a course
that you wish not derange,
You know it’s useless
to have them beguiled –
Your wearing diapers
must be nothing strange!
You want the world treating
YOU as a child.
You’ll be their baby, you’ll fight to prove it
In a few seconds by
screaming like wild!
And as soon as the diaper stopped crinkling and
speaking, he saw grandma grabbing it from mom’s hands and holding it in front
of his eyes: “What?! Such a big boy still wearing diapers like a baby?” she
shouted, “Don’t you want to use the potty like all other big boys like you do?
Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? I will throw this away! It is well time for you
to behave like a big boy!”
“Noooooooooooooo!” he
heard himself shouting, “I WANT DIAPERS!!!”
“I’M A LITTLE BABY WHO NEEDS DIAPERS ALL THE
TIME!!!!” he cried, “I’m a wittle baaaaby!!!
I want my dideeeee!!!” he said as he sobbed and
whined louder and louder, “I’M A BAAABEEEE!!!! MY DIDEE! I WANT MY DIDEE!” he
shouted tens of times, wildly kicking his legs and banging his hands on the
floor.
He woke up with a gasp in the dim silence of
the room. ‘My God! What a dream!’ he thought. Was he
shouting for real? Did his parents hear him? Well his teddy certainly looked at
him with the most puzzled expression! It reminded him of the expression his dog
would have whenever he did something bizarre, like pretending to throw a stick
and holding it instead. ‘What’s up, buddy?’ he could imagine Teddy saying, ‘You
are wearing your thick diaper, so
what’s all this shouting about you wanting one?’.
Indeed his drenched and messed diaper was bulking reassuringly between his
thighs. ‘O, you are right!’ he told Teddy, ‘Did I really shout?’ he asked
worried. ‘I thought my furry ears were going bald, man!’ replied the bear. He
chuckled and said ‘Really? Nah, my parents would be in here by now. You must be
wrong, you must have been dreaming my same dream!’.
‘Well, it’s strange, because in my dream you were lying on this bed like you are doing right now…’ Teddy said. ‘Nah, you are
making this all up just to scare me, you naughty teddy bear!’ he replied
teasingly. He then held him tighter against his neck and said ‘Now let’s go
back to sleep.’
He was in his auntie’s garden now, playing with
his cousin. Both boys wore nothing but diapers and were running in circles
among the crowd of the family’s grown ups. The two boys were laughing and every
now and then a grown up would slap their well padded butts, making them laugh
even more. Suddenly he stumbled and fell at the feet of his cousin. As he tried
to get up he felt his cousin’s hands on his shoulders, blocking his face right
in front of the kid’s diaper.
“Are you ready?” said the kid.
“Ready?” he replied puzzled.
“Come” said the younger boy and pushed
vigorously his face against the puffy diaper, sinking it to the extreme in the
plastic wrapped bulk. The boy felt the plastics tight on his face,
he couldn’t breathe and thought the diaper had finally decided to kill him by
suffocation! But after a few seconds of terror he found himself on the other side of the diaper! And the diaper
was so big, white and empty! Only his cousin was there with him. Both boys were
completely naked, standing in front of each other at the bottom of the huge
diaper, holding hands.
“You must take the oath” said his cousin,
“Repeat after me”. And his cousin started to speak with the diaper’s voice, a
deep, resonant voice, echoing throughout the immense white cavity:
I hereby solemnly,
truthfully swear…
“I hereby solemnly, truthfully swear…”
That for the rest of my
days on this Earth…
“That for the rest of my days on this Earth…”
I will not use anymore
underwear…
“I will not use anymore underwear…”
Only the diaper will
do as my girth…
“Only the diaper will do as my girth…”
‘cause
I might pee and make poop anywhere…
“‘cause I might pee
and make poop anywhere…”
For I’m a baby for all that is worth…
“For I’m a baby for all that is worth…”
Feeling the need of a
diaper to wear…
“Feeling the need of a diaper to wear…”
Lacking control as I
did at my birth!
“Lacking control as I did at my
birth!”
And as he repeated the last line, he felt a
sudden numbness in the lower part of his body which made him fall on his back.
As his buttocks touched the bottom of the huge diaper, this started to shrink
toward him, while an endless stream of urine came out of his penis to disappear
inside the white fabrics. The more he peed, the more the diaper shrank on him,
eventually reaching the right size. As he lied there in the garden he could see
now all grown ups staring at his swollen diaper and giggling. His cousin,
standing beside him, looked at him with the most serious expression and pointed
his finger to him: “He’s a baby! He needs diapers! He’s a baby! He needs
diapers!”. The adults joined his cousin and repeated
in unison “He’s a baby! He needs diapers! He’s a baby! He needs diapers!”,
while his mother approached him and started to unfasten the tapes of his
drenched diaper.
“He’s a baby! He needs diapers! He’s a baby! He
needs diapers!” the choir went on and on, louder and louder, almost ferocious, until
his mother started to put a new diaper on him. A sudden silence fell on the
crowd. And as the fresh new diaper started fastening around his hips, he felt a
stream of words coming out of his own mouth, while at every word his voice
sounded younger and younger. The words came out involuntarily, without
thinking, of their own will! As it
happened with the flow of pee before:
“Baby forever! in diapers
for sure!
‘cause baby diapers
are all that I crave,
as I’m a baby and diaper’s my cure!
Only in his diapers a baby’ll
behave,
Baby who yields to his diaper’s allure,
Forever diaper’s cute baby and slave!”
“His fate is sealed” announced his cousin.
“He’s
mine” resounded the triumphant voice of the diaper, and the shining
whiteness of its plastics invaded all the scene,
engulfing all the participants.
The Diaper reloaded
When mom opened his bedroom door the following
morning, she found him in bed crying at the top of his voice, like a newborn.
Instinctively she reacted: “Ooo! Why is this baby so
unhappy? Is his didee wet and messy?”. She lifted the covers and began to unsnap the plastic
pants buttons: “We are going to make everything all right, we’ll put a fresh
new didee on this baby and he’ll be as happy as
before!”.
The boy started kicking wildly, crying even
louder. “No, no, noo!” she cooed recovering her old
talents, “Don’t cry, mommy is gonna change you into a
fresh new didee right now!”.
And while she proceeded removing the soiled
diaper as fast as she could, he kicked his legs in unison and kept his arms
folded to each side of the body, his clenching fists turned upwards, at the
height of the shoulders. He looked frightened and annoyed, at the same time.
As the mother lapped the poop off his butt with
a wet sponge, he calmed down and began to suck his thumb. He accompanied the
sucking with soft gulping sounds, while showing a frightening indifference to
the external world. By the time she put a new thick disposable topped by a
cloth soaker on him and sealed everything with the usual plastic pants, it was
obvious that her son didn’t speak! Did not know how to speak and most probably
did not have any idea at all as to what speaking meant!
Emerging from her baby mother trance, she
realised something very serious had happened to her son, he obviously was not
in condition to go to school, not only for the thick diaper he was wearing, but
also because there was nothing in him which reminded of the normal 9-year-old
schoolboy he had been until the night before!
As the father and the sister witnessed the
extraordinary transformation the boy had gone through, the family decided to
call the doctor to find out what had happened. The same doctor which certified his bedwetting few weeks earlier was at
first annoyed in seeing the boy in diapers: “I told you not to use diapers! The
diaper suggests and confirms to a bed wetting boy a regressive message which
grows stronger at every night! Now you have it!”. “O, I’ll take it off, I’ll
take it off right now!” cried the mother in despair. “O, don’t’ bother, it’s
perfectly useless now that he really needs them!” he replied. He proceeded to
examine the boy, taking his pulse, testing his reflexes, trying to get
reactions from him, though with little success. After five minutes he said that
though more tests were needed, he was pretty sure their boy was showing the
typical signs of DSS. “DSS?” asked the father. “Diaper Shock Syndrome, and
quite a severe form too!” he explained, “Many bedwetters
put back to diapers might eventually exhibit also encopresis,
i.e. an involuntary release of faeces at day or night, but a few of them
regresses even further, to the state of a newborn baby, like your boy here!”. “O my God!”, erupted the father,
“Is there a treatment?”. The doctor said that the true nature of DSS was still
unknown – was it a disorder affecting more the psychology or the physiology of
a child? Various theories were still competing, though there was a general
agreement among specialists that DSS was a sort of adaptation syndrome in
response to an overstimulation of the brain induced
by the prolonged wearing of a thick diaper. It was, he said, as if the brain had
fought a very stressful identity battle induced by the contrast of wearing
diapers and leading the life of a normal preteen boy and eventually settled for
a baby neural pattern mode. Like all acute stress syndromes, DSS too showed to
disappear in the course of time, though with varying degrees according to the
subject. He said the brain would eventually get accustomed to the presence of
the diaper and start interact with the external world
normally. But in the meantime they had to consider and treat their boy as if he
were a baby, i.e. keeping him in diapers full time, feeding him, bathing him,
etc. As the brain had blocked all previously learned behaviours, the boy could
not be expected to speak, walk, or do anything else he used to do until the
previous day. He would have to relearn all these behaviours, though, he
remarked, experience showed that DSS children were quite quick in the recovery
of all their psychomotor abilities, usually in a timeframe varying from six months
to… three years!
After the first days of anxiety, the family
entered the routine involved in taking care of the ‘baby’ and his room resumed
the look it used to have when he was a newborn – his dad had even ordered a
special crib for a boy of his size and, of course, a matching diaper changing
station. The boy would spend most of the time lying asleep in his bed, his legs
kept well apart by the thickest diaper attached to him like a huge white leech
greedily sucking all substances released by his baby body. It was as if the
diaper had taken over the whole family, like a malicious presence manipulating
them without their knowledge, let alone consent! The white parasite was capable
of inducing the most repetitive and dull tasks in them and they would comply
with no objection, as if hypnotised, moving about the house in a state of
perennial trance. The diaper was particularly keen in having them feed the
‘baby’ baby bottle after baby bottle, for him to drain gallons of pee out of
the oblivious boy. The communication between the boy and the diaper now had
nothing of the sophisticated quality it had during the bedwetting days. It was
basic to the extreme, a very physical exchange of stimuli, an
incredibly dull and simple feedback circuit, more typical of machines than
sentient entities. The two were linked to each other like a thermostat and a
heater, with one important difference – the thermostat (the diaper) was
defective and had to be changed very often, because it kept sending the heater
(the boy) only one message – ‘make more heat’ (pee/poop), and would never send
the ‘stop’ signal when the appropriate ‘temperature’ was reached. As a result,
one could say that both the boy and the diaper suffered from a pathological
thirst, impossible to quench, while the parents and his sister looked like
Mickey Mouse’s brooms in Fantasia, endlessly carrying an increasing number of
buckets!
In a situation like that, it was not difficult
to understand that they weren’t keen on receiving visits by anyone. First,
there was too much to do – diapers had to be washed, dried and folded, baby
bottles filled, rinsed and sterilised, the boy cleaned, changed and fed – the
most exhausting assembly line! And they disposed only of three shifts… Second,
they felt ashamed and they really feared that the very term ‘Diaper Shock
Syndrome’ would immediately give them away as bad parents, sickly infantilising
their child to the limits of abuse and now paying the consequences for it. When
not taking care of the child, the mother would often cry her eyes out,
endlessly blaming herself for not following the doctor’s advice and putting her
son back to diapers instead. “What was I thinking!” would she shout before
plunging back into inconsolable weeping. She felt guilty beyond any hope of
forgiveness, as did her husband and her daughter. These two could have easily
excused themselves, at least in their own private thoughts, by thinking that
they had been manipulated too, after all it was the
mother who talked them into this! But they were too honest not to acknowledge
that they had played quite an active part in all this too. Apart from a
devouring sense of guilt, the three shared another common feature now – they
had such a grudge against diapers and plastic pants, such a hard-hearted
resentment that they were blind with hatred. An external observer could only
perceive them as completely crazy for hating inanimate objects with such an
irrational intensity. And yet, no matter how much they hated them, they were
forced to change, wash and fold diapers without rest. They did not complain,
though, as they saw that as the fully deserved, most righteous punishment for their
hubris.
After the first two-three weeks, however, the
gloominess of the whole situation began to leave ground in favour of a more
serene atmosphere. The ‘baby’ was becoming less of a screaming or sleeping
shit-machine and more responsive and prone to interactions with other human
beings. They even began to sense the typical happiness a house conveys when
inhabited by a baby who has just landed on this planet. At his first convincing
smile, they all fell in love with the boy for a second time and began to coo
and tweet like imbeciles making fools out of themselves when around him. “Goood boy!” would they chirp when he
released the loudest burp after emptying his baby bottle. And the most
typical thing one could hear during a diaper change was “O! I’m gonna eat these cute little feet, I’m gonna
eat these cute little feet! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum!”,
causing the boy to chuckle hysterically as mom or dad would sloppily kiss the
plants of his feet producing fart-like sounds and then pretend to bite them or
even try to put half of a foot in their mouth. Interestingly, this was not some
sort of training suggested by the doctor or other professional. It was
something they really felt like doing, indeed one could say they simply weren’t
capable of resisting that urge, as if the soft feet of the boy were among the
most beautiful things nature was capable of creating, a masterpiece of smooth perfection,
which skilfully combined beauty, happiness and innocence. But actually, the
feet were like the most dignified ambassadors of the boy’s whole body and
personality, and one could have said that the qualities of the feet applied
equally to him. It was – and is – one of the greatest mysteries of the universe
or – more modestly – of human nature: How come that for children the most
natural sentiment seems to be happiness? And why are they so good in conveying
it to others? And what happens once one grows? How does he lose that gift?
Where has it gone? How could Nature plot such a wicked joke? A beautiful
symphony turned into a farce with all adults either exhibiting a dead stare or running
around shouting “I want my money back!” or devoting the rest of their lives looking
for a more or less satisfactory ersatz of their lost childhood’s happiness, be
it money, power, success or the latest DVD! But when they bump unexpectedly
into the soft feet of a boy, two little feet cooing their genuine happiness
like a sweet couple of doves in love, they know deep inside that nothing of
what they have now could possibly match what they’ve lost! And they realise
that they’ve been cheated all along. Worse still, they’ve cheated themselves!
And they come to the conclusion that, after all, building a family to have at
least a few of those princes of light running for a while through their houses
is the most bearable, perhaps the most dignified, of all illusions.
It took six weeks for the first signs of
babbling to appear in the boy’s vocal behaviour and six more weeks for him to
produce his ‘first’ “wa-wa”, “doo-doo” and, of course, “didee”,
when crawling and rolling over gradually yielded to pulling up, standing and
walking. His toddler phase lasted six months and his mother, but also his
sister and his father, cherished every minute of it. O! He was an adorable
toddler - playful, smiling, curious and adventurous. Without admitting it, not
even to themselves, they all forgave the diapers and the plastic pants, as they
simply could not imagine their beautiful little explorer romping around without
them! And so, after months of seclusion from the rest of the world, the family
felt confident enough to have relatives visiting them again – the boy might
still have given the impression of a retarded kid, but he was simply
irresistible and he clearly showed signs of fast advances! The adults were
usually genuinely happy to see him running around in just his diaper and with a
big pacifier sticking in his mouth, though his cousins – and the boys more than
the girls - were clearly disturbed by the sight and by his behaviour, with one
important exception – his 5-year-old diaper-cousin, who spent hours playing
with him and teaching him things!
Among the many things he clearly showed to
perceive and appreciate, his favourite were diaper
changes – he would usually ask to be changed before his mother or his sister
would offer it to him, and would then happily lead the way to the changing
station and wait eagerly to be lifted and put on it! His preferred diaper
changes were those in the evening after the bath, as he would be lifted out of
the tub, rubbed in a big fluffy towel and then laid onto the station with his
Teddy! “Ooo, isn’t this baby boy just happy to have a new thick didee put on him!” would coo his mother applying handfuls
of baby cream to his butt and pee pee. “Dideeee!!” he would shout back at the top of excitement. “Yeah! A new didee
for this happy baby!” would she say lifting his legs and massaging the cream
onto the skin of his cute bottom, “Goo! Goo!” would he reply through the teat of his baby bottle.
When being spread with cream on his soft little penis, his excitement would not
seldom take the form of an unexpected jolt of pee wetting his mom’s hand,
amidst her shrilled laughter and his own – “Ooo!
Look! A baby has just wet in here! He couldn’t wait to have his diaper on, this
cheeky baby boy!” she would coo an octave higher. The joking atmosphere would
usually dissipate by the time of the powdering, when all one could see of his
boyhood was a little happy sack covered with snow. The mother and the boy would
exchange smiling glances of innocent connivery, as if
preparing for the special moment, when the thick diaper would rise among the
boy’s legs to cover him up to the navel. In the silence, one could hear the
gulping sounds of the boy sucking his baby bottle increasing in frequency and
loudness. By the time the plastic pants button would happily click one after
the other, the boy would lightly kick his legs, as if to provoke the swishing
chant of the plastics. A huge smile and the happiest “Gooo!”
would be the automatic response to his mother patting his bulk between his
legs, the convened sign indicating the end of the diaper changing ceremony.
One could feel the boy had the deepest attachment
to his diaper and on more than one occasion his parents had caught him alone in
his room patting it, caressing it and… talking to it! It was no real wonder
therefore when he turned hysterical at the first clumsy attempts to potty-train
him again. It was the doctor’s idea, though he admitted the chances of success
were very dim. But he honestly believed that since the boy was going again
through his evolutionary stages at such a fast pace, testing his control
abilities in that domain at that mental age would have been worthwhile. But the
boy screamed like hell at the sight of the big potty and threw the most scary tantrum when they attempted to put him in a
training pant. His mother seriously worried about his health and really feared
that all the achievements of the last six months could vanish in an instant!
The potty and the ‘trainers’ ended up in the
cellar, well out of the boy’s sight. Not happy, the boy seemed to want to make his
point even clearer, for future reference. And so it was that, behind his
adamant insistence, one more ‘member’ of the family had to wear diapers… Teddy!
And while the poor teddy bear was sacrificed on the altar of the little
diapered tyrant, for the sake of peace, his parents managed at least to save
the dog, who kept pushing his wet nose on the boy’s diapered bottom, completely
unaware that he came that close to wear one of those funny white puffy things
too!
More weeks went by, and the family found out
that the ‘invisible’ playmate of all 4-year-old children of the world was, in
the case of their son, a very visible presence indeed – his diaper! Not only
could they hear him whispering things to his diaper, he would also reveal them from
time to time what ‘he’ told him. At times they were just amused by the cheeky
comments of the diaper on the boy’s sister clothing – “Didee
says you can see the panty with that skirt!”. But on
other occasions they could feel shivers down their spine when he told them that
Didee wanted him to pee and poop because it made
‘him’ very happy! Or that Didee told him he was a
good boy for peeing and pooping a lot! “O, but boys who pee in the potty are
also good”, would try to persuade him his mother. “I’m sure the trainers could
be your friends too!” added his father. “Nah! Didee would be mad at me!” he said.
The family did not really know what to make out
of all this – most of the times they would simply remove the issue from their
mind, though one could tell by the way they were performing the diaper changes that
this task was seen under a new, strange light. Half amused, one day his mother
tried to pretend to talk to the diaper while pulling it over between the thighs
of the boy: “Are you happy to embrace my boy again?” And the answer of the boy
would strike her like a club behind her knees: “Of course he is! He likes it a
lot when you pat him!”. That was her first and last
attempt to ‘talk’ to her son’s diaper.
His father fought his anxiety over the subject
by taking it with humour – when he discovered that the 5-yeard-old
still-in-diapers-cousin had the same imaginary playmate of his son, he asked
the two boys whether their diapers were two different friends, one for each of
them. “No, it’s only Didee, our friend” they would
insist. “Well, I guess that if both boys believe in the same diaper, that makes
them ‘monodiaperists’!” he joked with his wife,
although she did not think that was funny at all.
Twelve months after the ‘rebirth’ the boy’s
mental age was five and advancing. Would he be ready for a real try at the
potty? After all he would soon have to go to school again, and sending him
thickly diapered among younger kids would have had only cruel sneering and
bullying as a consequence. Strangely enough, this time it was the doctor who
recommended leaving him in diapers. To the confused parents he explained that
after extensive research on DSS (thanks to the boy’s case, he had written a few
articles on the subject which had made him quite an authority on the syndrome), he reached the conclusion that the boy was experiencing
three different types of growth. On one hand he was a 10-year-old whose body,
from a purely physiological point of view, was developing normally. On the
other hand, as they all knew, he was a child whose mental age and most, but not all, of the related abilities
were progressing at a speed of roughly one year every three months, presumably
slowing down at normal speed once the mental age and the body age would
coincide again, i.e. within the following two years. But there was one more age
and growth process they had never considered before – his ‘baby-age’, i.e. the
ageing process in charge of a certain set of abilities usually controlled by
the mental age in normal children, but not in the case of DSS children. Of this
particular set of abilities, the two most notable were bladder and bowel
control. What was most remarkable about baby-age, however, was the fact that it
seemed to progress at a speed of one year every solar year, even though,
considering the lack of sufficiently long case studies, a much slower pace of
growth could not be ruled out, as baby-age was most probably a sort of side
effect of the quick recovery of faculties represented by the mental age
progress. In other words, experiencing the various stages in a rapid sequence
meant not having enough time to dwell in each of them for the stage to complete
its cycle, leaving the child with an insatiable longing for the ages he had to
abandon as he progressed rapidly through them. At any rate, their boy was now
10, 5 and 1, all at the same time! Potty-training was therefore not worth
trying before his fourth year of baby-age, which could not be expected to fall
at least before his twelfth year of body-age, i.e. two years from now!
The parents were astonished with
disappointment. If what the doctor said was true, that would mean at least
another two years of diaper changes! Maybe longer! Not to mention the expenses
for homeschooling, as clearly sending the boy to a
school was no longer an option. Baby-age! What the hell! Though
certainly that explained their son’s attachment not only to diapers, but also
to baby bottles and pacifiers. His insistence to be spoon fed! Baby-age
– one more bizarre thing to explain to relatives and friends!
Eventually they grinned and bore it and, after
a couple of weeks, they got used to the idea that their son was probably not
going to see any underwear for a long, long time. It was an idea not too
difficult to accept, however, considering that at home he only wore diapers and
maybe a short T-shirt, leaving the whole of the plastic pants for everyone to
see. And home schooling was such a wiser choice, allowing him to advance in his
learning at a faster pace than the average boys –within six months the three
R’s were conquered and one could see he was being again the same boy he had
been at seven, apart from the diapers and his baby behaviours, of course. He
was also recovering memories of the previous life and would often mix episodes
occurred to him when he was seven then
and now – a feature which made his parents uncomfortable, because they had
never told him what had happened. He would ask, for instance, why he was at
school yesterday but a new teacher
was coming home today… “O, you are so
fast, sweetheart, your are learning so quick that the
school is too slow for you!” would sound the most unlikely reply of his
parents. And where did all his friends go? Their families moved…. All of them?
He never questioned the diapers, however, as in
all his memories he was always wearing one, though as time went by he certainly
began to notice that other boys of his ‘age’ were not wearing them. “You wanna try too?” replied in a rare moment of self-delusion the
father when the boy asked why were not all boys in diapers. “Nah… I like it
this way, I’m like my cousin…”, he said sheepishly. Father
and son never asked their respective questions again.
The boy became more discreet with regard to his
Didee playmate and stopped talking about ‘him’ to his
parents and sister. He even liked the idea of him and Didee
sharing secrets, particularly now that Didee was becoming
more and more daring in ‘his’ remarks – “The
poop of last night? Boy! That was awesome! It smelled so nice I did not want to
get into the washing machine to keep it forever on me!” or “Drink all you can, baby, I really feel like
getting drenched to the limit!” “O, you are such a sick little perv!” would chuckle back the boy, slapping his diapered
bottom to ‘punish’ him. More often, however, the two would enjoy each other’s
company in silence, letting themselves plunge into the
greatest bliss. Being one being.
His eighth year of mental age, well into his
eleventh year of body age, was marked by behavioural problems, most likely
caused by the very speed of the growing process. The boy did not always know
what his limits were, particularly when it came to the authority his parents
and his sister had over him. He would challenge them at times with regard to
the time to go to bed – “But I’m big now! Can’t I stay up longer until the
movie is finished?”
“No way, young man, you need more sleep than we
do. Go!”
“Urh! But I wanna
see the movie!”
“You will go to bed right now!”
“No!”
“Vanish or I’ll take that diaper off and fasten
you to the toilet for a week!”
“Geez, Baby, why do you
test them like that? You wanna see me in the trash
can?”
“All right! All right! I go!”
There were times however when the diaper would
give quite a different piece of advice…
“Do your homework or you won’t have a diaper
change in the next twenty-four hours!”
“O, I can
handle that! Let’s try!” said Didee barely hiding
his excitement.
And the boy would spend the rest of the day in
his room listening to his diaper groaning more and more with pleasure as he got
wetter and messier.
He would also find girls more and more stupid
and unbearable to be with – an irony of destiny, now that his girl cousins had
overcome their revulsion for him and found him terribly cute instead! They
would chase him through the whole house to change his diapers, but to no avail.
The only females allowed to change him, and cuddle him, were his mom, his aunt
(the mother of his now 7-years-old diapered cousin), and his sister, even
though his relationship to the latter was becoming one characterised by love
and hate. At times he would pee or even poop immediately after she had wiped
his butt, when no fresh diaper had been laid yet under his buttocks, to take
revenge for a previous wrong from her side or just to challenge her. She would
then scream how boys were incapable of staying clean even for a second and slap
his pee-pee with a folded disposable. Nevertheless, he could be seen at times crying
and running to her, after he got hurt falling or hitting something, and she
would lower herself to have her face at the same height of his and embrace him,
whispering soothing words and lightly patting his diapered bottom. He would
chuckle when she named him a smelly brat, get mad when she remarked his pee-pee
was smaller then a pea pod, but his heart would melt when she called him
‘Baby-Bro’.
His ninth year of mental age, which began three
months after his body’s – uncelebrated – eleventh birthday, was characterised
by the appearance of bizarre memories, like waking up in a wet bed without diapers! The boy did not know
what to make of these thoughts – certainly they did seem memories, but that was
just impossible! He had been wearing diapers all his life! They had to
be fantasies, no matter how unsettlingly vivid.
One day, while visiting his fellow diaper-boy
cousin, he had twice the incredibly strong feeling of a déjà-vu. The two boys
were playing in his cousin’s room, having a ‘diaper-wrestling’ round, which
implied the winner sitting with his diaper right on the face of the loser and trying
to release the most stupid fart. The two boys found the game very funny and
serious at the same time – the farts were so silly and gross, and the more so
when the diaper was loaded, that they would laugh their heads off. But then no
fart resembled any other, they were so different, surprising, that listening to
them was a reward both for the winner and the loser, and both boys knew that
the wrestling part was just a pretext to get to the real purpose of the game –
making their thick diapered bottoms sing like whales in love! It was indeed one
of their favourite games, the other one being ‘diaper-eavesdropping’, which
implied one boy putting his ear on the front part of the cousin’s diaper and
listening to the pee diving into the soft fabrics, producing the naughty, typical,
dull and low-pitched burble – that was so cool! At times they would even do
that together, lying on the floor, each boy pressing
his ear against the other’s diaper.
That day he ended with his cousin’s diapered
bottom on his face (he would often let his younger cousin win…) and after a
round of laughter of both boys for the complaining fart of the kid, they decided
to play a more ‘traditional’ game, like building something. The two boys sat
down on the carpet and sorted out the building blocks, his cousin then started
‘operating’ the excavator, moving it on the surface between his wide open legs,
digging imaginary holes in the carpet and making the sounds of the machine.
When the ‘hole’ was ready, his cousin started leaning forward and backward to
pick up the blocks left by the crane and put them together. There were two
blocks, however, which simply refused to match, and as his cousin leaned
forward to match them by force, he saw his diapered butt growing in size, and
immediately afterwards, as the younger kid sat back on his feet plants, the
room was filled with an unequivocal smell. My God! He saw this already! But when? He had a very neat mental image of all this, only
his cousin was smaller! Was this the repetition of something happened maybe two
years ago? But at that time it was his cousin coming to his place, not the other way round!
“What’s up?” asked his cousin, waking him up
from his reverie.
“I don’t know, I have
the feeling I have lived this moment already”.
“It’s called déjà-vu” said the cousin with a certain affectation, so terribly
cute at his age.
“I know what a déjà-vu is, you dork!” he bit
back, “I’m not ignorant!”.
Later on the two boys were running through the
garden, surrounded by adults who from time to time slapped their puffy butts,
making them shriek with laughter. At one point he stumbled and fell at the feet
of his cousin and when trying to get up, he found himself with his face in
front of his cousin’s diaper… ‘What is happening to me?’ he thought for a short
moment, before his cousin’s hand on the back of his head caught him by surprise
and pushed his face with a jerk against his diaper. He did not have any time to
react and his face plunged directly into the over-inflated bulge adorning his
cousin’s groin. Could he hear laughter? Everything sounded so deadened, only
his heart beats were amplified in his ears! He felt like someone drowning in a
pool, slowly, endlessly! He knew he had experienced this terror already, in the
same garden, exactly like that! But when?
“You liked that?” came
his cousin’s cheeky voice, rescuing him out of the ‘pool’.
“You stupid dork!” he shouted, “You wanna suffocate me?” and jumped on his cousin.
“Hey, hey, hey! Come on, boys” shouted his aunt,
“No fights!”
“He wanted to kill me!” he said, releasing his
grip on the other boy.
“Geez, I was just
joking, sorry!” explained the younger boy, more out of fear of his mother than
his cousin.
“What did you do?” she asked her son.
“I… I just pushed his face against my diaper…”
“He wanted to suffocate me!”
“Why on Earth did you do that?”
“It was just a joke!”
“He was suffocating me!!”
“O stop that! You look
perfectly alright!”, her aunt told him and then turned
to her son: “Say sorry to your cousin and don’t frighten him anymore like that!
I want you both to make peace. You are cousins and you are the only boys in the
family who still wear diapers – don’t you understand how important it is for
the two of you to be friends?”
His aunt words produced the desired effect, and
the two boys were friends again. That night, he even sneaked out of his bed to
join his cousin, and the following morning the two boys were found sleeping
snugly nestled in the same little bed, like two inseparable kittens.
In the following months, when entering his
tenth and eleventh years of mental age, the déjà-vu were
replaced by memories of the last two solar years. The boy would then vividly
remember his mental infancy, toddlerhood and
childhood. He was so confused! He could not understand why a memory in a school
class with other boys seemed so remote compared to the traumatising attempts to
potty-train him. And his first steps seemed a matter of a couple of years ago!
How could that be possible? He found Didee strangely
unwilling to help him through all this – You
are still too young to understand, but one day you will, trust me! He would
say, only to change the subject immediately afterwards.
WARNING – Until now it was all peeing and
pooping, sucking baby bottles, pacifiers, thumbs or whatever. You enjoyed it so
much, didn’t you? All those diaper changes, that farting in diapers, macerating
your buttocks in a nice, warm poop, caressing your stern but loyal plastic
pants, sharing dirty secrets with your adorable diaper. Who wouldn’t love all
that? But you’re a developing boy and your body is changing… lots of surprises
lie ahead of you, some nice, some not, but there is one you will never forget –
it will change you forever, you won’t look at yourself in the same way you did
anymore! And, most importantly, you won’t look at boys and girls in the same
way you’re doing now. The world will change because you will change. There
might be still some stupid adults around who will tell you that what you are
about to experience is bad, very bad. But your body, who knows you so much
better, will tell you that what you’ll experience is damn good! More than that,
it is great! Most people call it ‘sex’, especially when experienced with other
people. But that word only describes one the shapes this experience can assume
in your life. Forget about Freud – if you’ll ever bump into his books – the
fact is that sex is one of the categories of a higher form of intense pleasure,
not the other way round. And you can be sure that no matter how proud you are
of your boyhood, you biggest sexual organ, you real pleasure organ is… your
brain!
Be warned: If you are going, as you probably
are, to have this experience for the first time in your wet diaper… you’ll be
hooked to your didee for all your life! No matter
what you might think in a few years from now, rest assured that one day you’ll
be looking franticly for that thick bulky feeling between your thighs to help
you go through this wonderful experience again… Are you sure you want to carry
on reading?
The Diaper revolutions
– I
As he approached his thirteenth real year of life,
his mental and biographical age finally caught up with one another. His physiology,
apart from his complete lack of control on urinary functions and bowel
movements – after all, his baby-age was only two… – was that of a healthy
12-year-old boy. He began to discover new things about his body, promising
things which forebode unexpected moments of glory and bliss. He would look at
himself more often into the mirror, especially when wearing just his diaper,
looking at the neatly designed muscles developing on his torso – “Nice!” he
would say to himself. He would then lie on the bed or on the floor and lift up
his legs and back to form a column, opening his thighs or bending his legs
toward the floor. He could see the white bulge of the diaper building a cool
contrast with the hairless skin covering his slender limbs and abdomen, as all traces
of baby fat had disappeared completely. And while bending his legs toward his
head, he would fall in admiration for his diaper, trying to approach his mouth
to kiss it, though, alas!, to no avail.
It was during these exercises of self
exploration that he became aware of an interesting feature of his boyhood – it
would elongate and become bigger and harder, capable of stretching out of the
cloth soaker, its tip pointing to his face, held back only by the upper limit
of the plastic pants, as if wanting to leave and plunge directly into his
mouth! When moving his legs up and down the visible tip of his turgid wee-wee
would glide back and forth against the plastic pants, becoming oily with a
greasy transparent substance whose nature the boy could not fathom. Was it pee?
Saliva?? Or what? Well, at
any rate it made the rubbing of the young boyhood against the plastics so much
easier and nicer!
Funnily enough, his sister would take care more
often of his diaper changes now, and she seemed to pay a lot of attention in
spreading the baby cream well along the shaft of the happily throbbing gadget,
which the lack of pubic hair made look even bigger than it actually was. And so
her creamy hands would indulge on his firm sack and rub back and forth a few
times the exuberant brat on her brother’s tummy, only “to make the cream spread
better”, of course. He felt half embarrassed and half amused by the attention
of his sister in those moments. As he had never touched his own beauty-beast before,
but had always felt it under the bulk of his diapers when palpating their
front, he tried at times to reach it and touch it during the diaper change, but
a firm slap of her sister on his hand would make him desist and blush like a little
kid – “You don’t do that in front of a lady, young man! Besides you know you
can’t take care of it – What do you think you are in diapers for?” she would reprimand
him. He would then take a look at his sister’s body, her clean shirt and skirt
so tight on her body, revealing the absence of any bulging mass under her tiny
thongs. She was so different from him, girls were so
different from him! Indeed girls and boys belonged to two very different
species!
“Wouldn’t you like to have one too?” he would
ask.
“What? A smelly dribbling
pisser in my clean panties? No thanks, I am glad to leave that to
immature and irresponsible boys like you! If the world depended on dirty
pee-pee carrier like yourself, dribbling their pee in all places and leaving
stinky skids wherever they sit, well, I swear you, we’d be living in a horrible
mess!”, she said taping his diaper.
“But sitting in your poop can be so nice!” he
objected.
“That’s exactly the point! That’s why only a
boy can tolerate, indeed like!, to be in those stupid
thick crap-holders full time! A girl would find the very idea simply intolerable!”
Crap-holders? Girl, you better watch your
language! he could hear Didee
whispering in his mind, Tell her: Better
in a “crap-holder” than torturing one’s ass-crack with those silly crap-cutters
she’s wearing! making the boy burst out laughing.
“What?” would she say as she finished snapping
the plastic pants on him.
“Well, better in a crap-holder than in a
crap-cutter like the one you are wearing!” and laughed his head off.
“O, you’re just an envious little pissing
brat!” she said, patting his diaper so violently that he felt a piercing pain
in his balls, the thickness of the soaker notwithstanding.
“Ouch! GIRLS SUCK!” he shouted angry.
“And boys… stink!” she cheekily remarked.
The wet tip behind the translucent plastic
pants did not go unnoticed by his parents, who decided to celebrate his twelfth
birthday with a new set of bigger cloth soakers and bigger size disposables and
plastic pants which could cover him slightly above his navel, making his naughty
wet tip invisible again. His sister was in charge of having her brother
inaugurate the new diaper that evening, and as he came back from the shower,
one could tell immediately he was excited at the sight of it, as his merry private
stood at attention to salute his wonderful birthday present. Once he lied down
on the changing station, the young bird could not stop jumping up and down, bouncing
on his belly to his sister’s amusement – “Look at that! The hopeless dribbler
must be really happy to get a new diaper around him!”.
But she turned to a more serious mood in a second and proceeded putting the
baby cream on the boy with brisker movements than usual, as if in a hurry. The
boy knew she was going to meet her new boyfriend in a few minutes and knew how
much she was looking forward to it – well, anyone could have guessed that just
by taking a look at her outfit! A new fire-red shirt enhancing the shape of her
firm breasts and a shiny black miniskirt which hid very little of what was
underneath, as she obviously was wearing her naughtiest thongs! Nevertheless he
would have hoped she could devote more time to him on that special evening,
though, on the other hand, he admitted to himself, her hurry also meant he
would have had his new diaper on sooner!
With few rough brushes of her hands, she
managed to cover with cream the whole diaper area. Apart from a couple of
abrupt and harsh glides, not much of attention was paid to the boy’s rebellious
colt, soon covered with powder and suffocated under the soft bulk of the new soaker.
As his sister with unexpected vigour pulled the side hems of the disposable
over his hips, tightening the new diaper to the maximum, the boy could feel his
raging bullock revolt against that forceful taming, painfully pushing upwards,
as if wanting to break free from the unbearable grip of the diaper. Was ‘he’
really upset? Or was it a game? The boy could not understand, though he
certainly had the feeling that at the first rustle of the plastic pants
crawling through his thighs, the tantrum of his ‘little brother’ grew wilder
and wilder. Click! Clack! As the first two buttons of the baby pants snapped,
he felt a tingling tension in his diaper he had never experienced before. It
was similar to a stool blocking his sphincter muscles, but stronger! It was
like a sneeze in the making, but more uncontrollable and demanding an immediate
release. Click! Jolting throbs travelled from his anus to the tip of his
boyhood with increasing frequency. O, that was so
unsettling! He wanted it to stop! Stop! Clack! And as the last button snapped
him in, he planted his feet and arched his back in a spasm, pushing his diaper
as high as he could go, as if offering a gift to unknown gods, almost hitting
his sister’s face with the plastic covered bulge!
For a moment he ceased to exist. Everything
ceased to exist.
“AAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!” he moaned
before lowering his abdomen again.
“What happened? You ok?”
Gooooood boooooooooy!!! shouted in
his mind Didee’s voice.
“I… I… don’t know!” said the boy, “It is as if
I sneezed in my diaper!”
“What? Oooo, I see.
Well, don’t worry, it’s just another one of those messy things you boys do! I
have to go know! Go to your bed! Nighty-night!” and
she ran off, clearly not wishing to investigate further what had just happened
to her brother.
He went to bed, exhausted like he had never
felt before. He could feel a most bizarre stickiness on the part of his belly
covered by the diaper, like a wetness the soaker could not absorb. He felt as
if the diaper had been put on him with the plastic side facing inside! He
checked by lifting the upper hem of his plastic pants and found out that the
disposable plastic surface was facing outward, as usual. What was it then? He
wished he could lift the diaper to see for himself, but his sister had made it
so tight on him that all he could do was to insert a finger underneath it. He
dipped the finger into the stickiness and took it out, covered with a strange opalescent whitish and runny goo.
He approached the finger to his nose and smelled the most unusual pungent
odour: like chlorine, or raw chestnuts.
“What is this, Didee?”
he asked his best friend.
Adults call it sperm,
but I like to call it… ‘boy juice’!
“Boy juice?” he asked, surprised that someone
could imagine a boy like some sort of fruit!
Yep, it means my baby
boy is getting bigger,
he sighed, ...almost a man…
“You’re kidding me!” said the boy in disbelief.
I wish I was… did you
like it?
“Well… I don’t know! I did not know what was
happening to me!”
You had an orgasm,
that’s what it is called… it means a moment of intense pleasure
“Pleasure?”
You’ll realise that
the more you repeat it. I like it too, you know? All that gooey stuff
percolating through my fabrics… one more thing to add to my collection of
tastes and smells…
“How can I repeat it?” asked the boy curious.
Just stroke me from
between your legs to your belly… I will take care of the rest… you wanna try it now?
“Ok!” he said, eager
to try.
You want to switch the
light off, though, you don’t want your parents to come
in here as you do this…
The boy obeyed, and after putting the light
off, he sneaked his right hand under the cover and started stroking as the
diaper instructed. His exuberant foal responded immediately and filled the
central section of the soaker, almost reaching the navel with its tip, happy to
go for another ride. And again he felt it pushing upwards, getting harder and
harder, as if wanting to emulate the strokes of the hand and caress the diaper
from inside. The diaper seemed to appreciate and started stroking back more and
more, affectionately and passionately at the same time, rubbing stronger and
stronger, the cotton fabric wanting to explore every square millimetre of the
boy’s excited companion. The boy opened his legs wider, for his hand to have a
bigger surface to stroke on, his palm enjoying the sense of power emanating
from the living bulge, the heat radiating from there to the whole body. The
plastic pants glided back and forth around his sweaty legs and waist, swishing
and rustling with fury, hissing high-pitched, compelling ‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!’, increasing in loudness and frequency, ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’,
and he obeyed, infected by their sense of urgency. And as the violent embrace
of Didee pressed his tormented rubber toy from all
sides, twisting it, squeezing it without mercy, unsympathetically ignoring its
pleads to stop, he felt the distressing tingling tension building up again,
discharging megavolts of electricity between his wet anus and his sticky
throbbing tip, sucking his whole body and the entire universe into the victorious
diaper, until everything collapsed in on the wet tip and made it burst, gushing
spurt after spurt of mighty boy juice for the bestial diaper to gobble with
frenzy!
“AAAWWW! AAAWWW! AAAWWWWW!!!” moaned the boy
like a wolf pup trying to free himself from a trap, only to find himself more
entangled with each move and eventually decide to give up. And as he relaxed,
he felt his boyhood resume its usual soft condition, gradually reverting to the
baby pee-pee that had dwelled in his diaper since the very beginning. A warm
tickle on his little sack notified that his little ‘friend’ had also resumed
his most familiar function. As he enjoyed the pee trickling between his thighs,
he thought of the amazing transformation this newly discovered Dr Jekyll and Mr
Hyde was capable of – from a state of vulnerable innocence to one of whimsical self-assertion.
But was there only one Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde in this story? What about Didee? He had never felt him like that! He couldn’t believe
his diaper could turn into such a wild animal, assaulting him like that, him, his
best friend! Were there more characters with such a double nature? Was he the
same boy as before? His last thought before tucking his thumb in his mouth and drifting
into the soundest sleep…
He was in a huge empty space, rolling a big
coin toward the invisible summit of a slope. The coin was so heavy and big,
bigger than him! He could only roll it inch after inch, while most of the
effort went into keeping it from rolling downwards. He leaned forward, against
the coin, trying to make it advance by pushing with the whole of his body, each
time putting one hand below the other on the circumference of the huge dime.
Suddenly he felt the smooth white ground becoming wet and slippery, he looked
down and saw his diapers were gone! And he was peeing! The surprise made him
fell and lose grip on the coin, which rolled downwards, vanishing far away. Biting
his lips with disappointment he looked at his own reflection in the wet ground
and saw a man with a beard! Ahrg! He realised only
then that he was covered with hair – his legs, his arms, his belly, his balls! Everything! Except… his head! He was bald! Ahhh!
“Honey, are you ok? It was just a dream!” he
heard his mother saying.
“What?” he asked, feeling the wet sheets
enshrouding him.
“My God! Look how drenched are your sheets!”
“But I have my diaper on!”
“That’s not pee, honey, its sweat! What did you
dream?”
“I had to push a big coin on an endless slope
and then saw I was big, hairy and bald!”
“Well,” said his father who had joined them in
the meantime, “What’s a nightmare to you is a harsh reality to us!”
“O, don’t say such things to the boy, you’ll
frighten him!” reproached him the mother, and then turned to the boy: “It’s ok,
sweetheart, we’ll change your bed sheets and diaper so you can go to sleep
again.”
He got out of the bed and mounted on the
changing table, while his father took care of the sheets and his mother
proceeded to the diaper change. His boyhood behaved until the diaper was
removed, but then turned into Mr Hyde at the first touch of the baby wipes. To
hide the embarrassment, his mother said: “I think I’m going to teach you how to
diaper yourself one of these days…”. “U-huh” he replied, trying to look away
from his throbbing fellow, almost pretending he did not have anything to do
with it!
The torture was soon over, and the boy jumped
back into new fresh sheets, enjoying their touch as much as the soft, cuddly
bulge of the new diaper.
“Nighty-night,
son!”
“Night, mommy! Night, daddy!”
He was on a roller-coaster with his diaper
cousin. The two boys were sharing the same narrow compartment, his cousin
sitting in front of him on the same seat. He could feel the back of his cousin
on his chest, while the carriage climbed toward the summit, rattling and
vibrating, making the two diapers of the boys rub against each other. He tried
to turn away from the feeling he got by his cousin’s diaper bumping his own,
and took his nose off the baby scent emanating from his cousin nape to look
downward. “My God! We are so high!” he said, seeing
the buildings, the roads, the lake and everything else so small and getting
smaller! “Where are we going?” he asked, as they passed a cloud and proceeded
toward the sky, toward outer space! “Yuppie!” was the only thing his cousin
said, obviously happy to be there. “Attach yourself to
my wrists on the bar!” he told his cousin, “I can see the summit! We are gonna fall soon!”. The carriage
rattled along the last thirty yards, while the diapers bounced against each
other like two sacks of powder soap on a spinning washing machine, bump, bump,
bump, bump, bump! The same tingling tension in his
diaper again! The summit, at last! And as they began to fall, both boys shouted
“Yahoo!” in unison, while the Earth got bigger and bigger. “Yahoo!
I wanna stay like this forever!” he added, at which the
carriage seemed to slow down its course. His cousin turned his face to him and
asked:
“Do you really?”
“YES!”, he said, still
inebriated by the sticky feeling inside his diaper, “I don’t wanna grow! I wanna be a
12-year-old diaper baby boy for ever!”
“That can
be arranged, you know?” said the younger kid, with a mysterious tone of the
voice.
“How? How? HOW? Tell me, please, tell me!!” he said,
putting his chin on the shoulder of the young cousin.
Let me show you
something first… said
Didee’s voice, joining the conversation. And as the
carriage resumed its previous free fall speed, he saw the Earth approaching,
but staying of the same size! Oceans, continents, getting bigger and bigger,
but all still in his vision field! Cities revealing the buildings and houses
they were made of, houses revealing their rooms, everywhere, the whole world,
all in his vision field! Now, look
carefully… said the diaper. And he became aware of all the boys of the world, each and every one of them, and he could
see them all – that 7-year-old peacefully sleeping in his wet diaper, that
12-year-old proudly running though the fields, those 10-year-olds bored by
their teacher, that 5-year-old brat tormenting his patient doggie, the
8-year-old squeezing his pee pee in front of the
toilet, older boys in a line comparing the length of their tools, younger boys
betting on who could piss farthest… And then he became aware of the millions of
boys peeing every second in the whole world – on the grass, against trees, in a
toilet, in a swimming pool, in a diaper, in their pants… Every second on the
planet millions of boys added their tributaries to a mighty torrent, flooding
the world, marking their territory, claiming their share, proudly glorifying
their gender!
I want them all! said the
diaper.
“All??” said the boy.
Yeah! I want to enhance
even further their staggering beauty by becoming the most precious of their
adornments, by hiding their source of immense power to keep it safe and
protected from the distractions of the world and focussed on what it does best!
I want to tame their mighty, incontinent enthusiasm and have all that energy
soaking my fabrics, nursing their boyhoods while feasting on their products! I
want the exclusive on their pee and boy juice!
“Wow! What’s stopping you?” he asked, half
amused.
Listen!
“What?”
Listen, listen!
He could hear now an ominous rumble, millions
of litres of water flushing down through millions of toilets.
Do you hear that?
“Yeah! It’s impressive!” said the boy.
Impressive? It’s disgusting!
“Why? It’s just the sound of toilets flushing!”
No, no, no, my friend,
it’s more than that – listen carefully and you’ll hear the most vulgar, raucous
groan of satisfaction those white graceless pots can squeal, like a bunch of
whores clearing their throats after a blow-job!
“Hey, what’s a blow-job?”
That’s not the point! Can’t
you hear how they claim their victory over me? Can’t you hear their lewd mouths
whispering obscenities to all those inexperienced willies, luring them into flooding
their stiff and waxen throats with the most lavishing golden nectar? What a
waste!
“Geez, I’ve never
looked at it that way!” he said.
Of course not, you are
a good boy, you are my boy. But we have got to save all the other
boys from those bestial sirens!
“But why only the boys? What about the girls?”
And who would take
care of me while I take care of you boys? Besides, they can be my best allies
in the enterprise – they know you boys can’t really keep yourself clean and
that diapering you is the only way to contain your exuberance, for them to keep
you under control, otherwise you’d take over the world once and for all!
“F***ing hell!”
exclaimed the boy in astonishment, while his cousin laughed.
I have chosen you to
help me in this most noble endeavour.
“Me?! Why me?” said the boy, certainly not feeling
up to a job of such proportions.
You were introduced to
me…
“Introduced? By whom?” he said in disbelief.
“Have a wild, wild guess!” said his cousin
turning to him and exhibiting the cheekiest smile.
That smile! And in that moment he remembered
everything – from the first time his cousin smiled to him while being changed
in the living room in front of everybody to this very moment! The years without
diapers, the bedwetting, his ‘rebirth’, his new life in diapers! He understood
what had happened to him and why he had such confused memories about his past.
He realised all memories were true, he had lived a life without diapers before
this one!
“What… what are you?” he asked the diaper, half
frightened.
I’m an idea. The idea of a boy wearing a diaper. Nothing
more, nothing less.
“Where do you come from? Why did you do this to
me? Why are you here?” said the boy, almost resentful.
I’m a relatively
recent variant of another idea – the idea of a boy wanting to stay a baby. And
that idea has been around for a long, long time, since the time the first baby
sucked his mother’s breast. I don’t mean any harm, quite the opposite as a
matter of fact, but like all ideas, like all beings, I’m competing for
resources, I’m compelled to replicate myself, being copied from brain to brain,
lest I fall into perennial oblivion. I came to you because you were more
receptive than others, you only needed a little help, and your cousin here
provided it, by showing you what it means to have me in your brain, to feel me
in your brain, to be a part of you.
“You took control over me! You cheated me!”
said the boy angrily.
Now, now, now! I’m no
worse that any other idea in your mind. In fact, your mind, your personality is
nothing but a huge collection of ideas which came from outside, that you picked
up as you were growing. None of these ideas is you, if taken one by one, but
you are the very result of all these ideas put together, you would not be
without them! So I’m not leading you anymore than any other idea might do,
though I was lucky to meet you before many other ideas of your personality did
– that is my only real advantage. I have been with you for such a long time,
that you might consider me one of the founders of your developing personality.
Though I cannot claim that I am you, because I am also dwelling and propagating
through the brains of other boys, I can certainly say that I am a part of you,
and a very important one for that matter!
The boy stood silent. Thinking.
Brooding. He could see his cousin’s diaper while
resting his chin on his shoulder. No matter how hard he tried to picture the
diaper as something ugly, stupid, ridiculous, evil, all he could see was that
the white puffy shape on his cousin’s groin was nothing less than a miracle of
enticing beauty! Why did he like diapers so much? Why? Why? Oh! Too much
thinking! What difference would it made if he knew the answer? And what would
be the purpose of fighting his love for them? Probably the diaper was right in
saying that ‘he’ was a part of him!
Are you still
interested in staying the diaper boy you are now forever?
“… yes” he said,
almost inaudibly.
I didn’t hear that,
what did you say?
“YES!” he shouted, “But how are you gonna do that?”
O, ideas can work
miracles! I’ll help you if you help me…
“What do I have to do?”
Three things:
Get twelve boys older
than three to wear diapers,
Have at least one of
them getting twelve more boys into wearing diapers the following year,
And never, ever touch
your boyhood with naked hands, but only through your diaper.
“But how? I hardly know any boys! And why
shouldn’t I touch my puppy!”
You know a few boys
already, besides your cousin will help you with some useful… techniques! And
I’m sure your sister can be a resource too! As for touching: Babies can
experience their pee pee only through their diapers –
if you touch it, ‘it’ will ‘think’ that you are no longer a baby, and you’ll begin
to grow old again, got it? Follow the instructions and as from now you won’t
get a day older, agreed?
“You got a deal!” he shouted enthusiastically,
marking his agreement with a squeeze and a double pat on his cousin’s front
diaper.
“Welcome to the team, ‘Baby-Bro’!”, said his cousin kissing him. He had just been baptised
with his favourite nickname.
Hope you’ve liked it
so far. For comments: [email protected]