Deeker's Diaper Page

This incident brought back a lot of memories to when I was a toddler still in diapers. I wasn't potty trained until I was almost five. I always enjoyed the warm sensation in my diaper after a healthy bowel movement and the warm feeling I got when my dad would check my diaper after a bowel movement just like this father did at McDonald's. I remember my pediatrician told my dad not to rush my potty training, and my dad happily agreed. Dad always enjoyed changing my diaper and it never upset him once even as I got older. I think back on this part of my childhood with fond memories.

I was just looking around when suddenly a lady and (I assume) her son burst into the room. The boy, who looked to be about my age (14), was crying and the mother looked very cross indeed, and was mumbling something about having just changed him and not having all day to get some simple shopping done. Thinking the boy urgently needed to use the toilet and that the men's was also full, I offered to let the lady's son skip ahead of me in my newly-formed queue, only to be told that they were just fine thankyou, and that they would be using alternate facilities. I smiled politely, expecting them to leave, but was shocked to see the lady go over to the baby changing section of the area and pull down the sturdy grey changing table.

The young boy's face turned a deep shade of red and he looked at the floor, shuffling his feet uncomfortably and sniffing as tears continued to roll down his face. "please mum, not here," he practically whispered as his mother turned around with her hands on her hips. His patheic request was ignored and he was ordered to go to his mother, who lifted him (he was of a small build) onto the table and proceeded to lie him down and scold him for even attempting to stop the inevitable and resisting her. "you have only made things worse for yourself, Steven," she said as she reached for his jacket, unzipping it before pulling down his trousers to his ankles, exposing, to my horror, a large fluffy cloth nappy - stained yellow, it seemed, with urine.

His mother tutted as she began to unpin the thick, heavy garment from her son's body as the boy hid his face with his hands and cried softly. Soon enough, the front of the nappy flopped open, revealing to me the child's "manhood", which appeared surprisingly small for his age. The boy, seeing my intent gaze, rushed to cover up his penis and testicles from view, only to have his hand slapped out of the way by the lady. She then lifted his legs and slipped the sodden nappy out from under him then, keeping him in the same "legs-up" position, landing a series of sharp smacks to his rear and upper thighs, causing him to shriek with supposed pain and cry out apologies.

After the spanking, the lady lowered him to the table, took out a box of wipes, selected one and, after asking her son to open his legs nice and wide, proceeded to clean his nappy area thoroughly, talking softly to him all the while. Powder was then generously applied, much to the evident excitement of the boy, before a new nappy was slid under his sore bottom, ready to be pinned up. At the point, a cubicle became free and I began to walk towards it, but the lady intercepted me and asked me if I wouldn't mind waiting a few moments longer and keeping an eye on her "naughty little boy" as she called him. I told her this would be no problem and went to stand by the changing table, whereby the boy turned his head away from me as I cast my eyes over his privates.

His mother returned, briefly thanked me for watching "little Stevie", pinned up the fresh nappy and walked her son out of the building, without any trousers on!