Commando Kyle on Diaper Patrol   

	Kyle was thrilled to hear that his younger sister, 
Lisa, would be going off  to spend three weeks with Aunt 
Betty and Uncle George.  It would mean that he  could once 
again play 'commando'.  Since he had been 6 years old, when 
he  played with a neighbor kid named Stevie who was 3 and 
who still wore diapers  all the time, he had known that 
there was something he couldn't resist about  diapers and 
the concept of being diapered. It was then that he realized 
that  he wanted to wear diapers too.   He had talked Stevie 
into taking off his  diapers once so Kyle could try them on, 
but it wasn't long before Stevie's  mother caught on and put 
a stop to their friendship. In the intervening 4  years, he 
found that it was hard to get access to diapers since he 
didn't  have any other association with small kids and 
didn't have an easy way to buy  diapers. He tried towels, 
but they were not realistic and felt wrong. He put  several 
T-shirts in his underpants and they felt better than towels, 
but  never soft enough. He tried many sheets of the softest 
facial tissues and  those were soft enough, but didn't last 
long and he couldn't wet them. He had  found that Sears 
catalogues had lots of pictures of diapers, plastic pants,  
and kids who probably wore diapers, and this became an 
obsession of sorts and  a focus for his fantasies. He would 
count how many times the word 'diaper'  appeared in a 
catalogue. He would cut pictures of plastic panties out and  
paste them on other pictures of kids more his age. 
Eventually though, he just  had to get some real diapers.   
	It was while he was out playing 'commando' one night 
that his desires were  realized. It was fun to play 
'commando'. He dressed in black, dirtied his  face, ran from 
shadow to shadow and looked for ways to be irritating to  
adults. One of his personal favorites was to run up to 
someone's door, knock  loudly on it and then run only twenty 
feet back and throw himself to the  ground and pretend he 
was invisible. Naturally, someone who was inside a  bright 
room would answer, look around, see nothing, and close the 
door. This  was fun for a ten year old and he was good at 
it, but it was the sneaking  around the neighborhood, 
unnoticed, that he enjoyed the most.    
	After a fast dash and a hard, rolling landing in the 
dark grassy spot, Kyle  looked up to see a line full of 
freshly laundered diapers and plastic pants  waving in the 
gentle breeze. He was stunned, excited, and overwhelmed with 
a  desire to 'own' several real baby diapers and plastic 
pants. If he was caught,  it would mean extreme 
embarrassment and some kind of punishment. The  
embarrassment by his  peers would be the worst.  He pondered 
this dilemma for  about five minutes, then something deep 
inside of him took control. He did  the combat crawl, rolled 
and ended up near a shrub that would be his last  chance to 
stop. In the end it was ridiculous to think he could have 
done  anything else. He had wanted real diapers ever since 
he had found himself  alone in a Laundromat and had played 
with some diapers from a dryer that had  just stopped,  when 
he was eight.  
	He  stopped for a moment inside the wafting storehouse 
of babyhood and was  overcome with exhilaration. Here in his 
grasp were several dozen diapers and  many plastic pants and 
he had wanted this for so long.  There were so many  and 
they were so fresh. Then realizing his danger, he yanked 
three diapers  off the line and also pulled the largest pair 
of plastic pants off with them.  Not stopping to look 
around, he bolted for the shadows again. Blocks from his  
apartment, where he lived with his divorced and alcoholic 
mother, and his  eight year old sister, he was thrilled to 
have his own diapers and very  afraid that he had been seen. 
He finally made it to his building and quickly  took refuge 
in some shrubs in a corner. He had to make sure the coast 
was  clear so he stuffed the diapers into the plastic pants 
and pushed them deep  into the greenery. He went inside to 
find his mother asleep on the sofa and  obviously not 
rousable. In minutes he had quietly gone back out, stuffed 
his  booty into a paper bag and bee-lined for his room.  His 
exhilaration was at  its peak as he lied out the real 
diapers on his bed and fondled the plastic  pants. He was in 
a frenzy to find two safety pins and vowed to buy real  
diaper pins soon.  At last, after search high and low, he 
had found two large  safety pins and retreated to his room 
and his passion. He quickly yanked of  his now grassy shirt 
and pants and threw himself on his bed after kicking off  
his sneakers. Laying on his back, he started a fantasy that 
had been in his  mind regularly for years.   
	He fantasized a loving mother,  asking him to lift up 
and pulling off his  underpants. She then expertly folded 
two soft diapers and placed them under  him. Pulling the 
soft bundle up between his trembling thighs, he was 
delirious  as the diapers were fastened around his skinny 
waist. He just lay there in  sensual ecstasy before he could 
contemplate adding the plastic pants.  He  rolled around on 
his bed loving the thickness and the softness and the 
thought  that this was real. Tears from some long repressed 
sense of  missing comfort  and safety clouded his eyes. Here 
he was in real diapers, diapers that had  been used many 
times by some other lucky little kid he didn't even know.  
Real diapers, placed on that other child by a loving mother 
who took good  care of him. It was wonderful. Then he 
remembered the plastic pants and  realized they were too 
small.  Determined, he had to try anyway but the legs  were 
to tight. He pulled the panty off and cut the leg holes to 
allow him to  pull them on. Success.   
	After a while he decided to pull on his pajama top and 
go to bed. His sister  was staying with their grandparents 
and wouldn't be home until later. Thank  goodness he had his 
own room. He decided to spend the whole night in those  
diapers and hide them in the morning. He pushed the extra 
diaper under the  sheets, down at this feet. It was an hour 
of intense happiness before he  drifted off to sleep.   
	He woke early as the sun came into his room and as he 
came to a sense of  panic engulfed him. In the night, who 
knows when, he had kicked off the sheet.  The breeze coming 
through the window was pushing his bedroom door up against  
the door jam and then the door would fall back, slightly 
open. OPEN! He was  lying on his bed, his diaper exposed and 
the door had somehow opened! Had  Lisa seen him? Had his 
mother come in during the night to check on him and  found 
him diapered? He quickly pulled the sheet over himself, 
pulled off the  plastic pants,  and unpinned his diaper. 
Filled with fear and shame, he  stuffed all the objects of 
his fantasies into the paper bag and hid it in his  closet. 
Was this going to be the worst morning of his life?