After-School Special

    The following is based somewhat on fact, but is mostly
fiction of how I tried to get my mother to diaper me when I was 9
or 10 years old.  It didn't work then.  However, I've written
this in the way I wish things would have turned out.
    As I now look back on it, I remember that school seemed to be
such a hurried affair. Especially for a boy of 9 or 10. There
were always bells going off telling you what time it was, and
what you were to do next. The most important bell though was that
3 o'clock bell.  The one that signaled the day was over, and it
was time to go home.
    I lived quite a way from the school I attended, so it was I
had to take the school bus to and from school.  When the 3
o'clock bell rang, there seemed to be just enough time to get
from my last class to my locker, and to the bus, before it pulled
out.
    One day, during the latter part of my last class, I felt the
urge to go to the bathroom.  It was one of those times when I
knew that if I asked for a pass to go the men's room, class would
be over before I could get back to class to return the hall pass. 
I also realized that there would be no way for me to stop at the
men's room after class, and still be able to catch the bus home. 
I decided to wait until I got home, after all, the bus ride
wasn't that long.
    On the way home, the urge got stronger and stronger, and by
the time I go off the bus, my bowels were straining with every
ounce of muscle in them to keep it in until I got home.
    About a block from home, I just couldn't hold it any more.  I
let go in my pants, and it didn't feel as bad as I thought it
would.  My underpants were holding it against my bottom, and with
every step I took I was getting a sensation that I don't ever
remember having before.
    When I walked in the house, my mother was there in the
kitchen, with my younger brother. He was only three at the time,
and had had been potty trained only a short time, as I remember. 
    My mother got angry real quick, and wouldn't even give me a
chance to explain what had happened.  "Do you want me to put you
back in diapers?  I still have some from your little brother."  I
want to tell her yes, but in her mood, I probably would have made
things worse, so I said "No."  " I was sent to get a bath, wash
out my dirty underpants, and then to my room.
    You must realize that there had been times that I had tried
on my little brothers baby pants.  Twice getting caught, and
spanked for it. Then there was a time while my mother was
changing my little brother that I begged her to diaper me, but
she wouldn't.
    While in my room I started to think about what my mother had
said. "The next time this happens, I'm going to put you back in
diapers." I kept thinking, and a plan started to form in my head. 
What if I did mess my pants again, would she really diaper me,
would I also get to wear a pair of baby pants.  The more I
thought about it, the better it sounded.  I started believing
that I had finally found a way for my mother to diaper me.
    I started thinking about it almost every day, but either
didn't have to mess on my way home, or got scarred at the last
second, and held it in until I got home.  Then one day, I decided
that if I didn't do it now, there would never be another chance. 
My mother had been using my brothers old diapers as dust cloths,
and cleaning rags, and shortly there wouldn't be anything left. 
So, after getting off the bus, and away from my friends, I let
go.
    On the way home I started having second thoughts about this
whole thing.  Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.  As I
entered the house, I noticed that my mother was in the living
room.  I decided to go around through the library, to avoid her. 
The stairway going up to my room was between the living room and
the library.  As I rounded the corner, and started upstairs, my
mother stopped me. She asked me a few questions, and then all of
a sudden, a look came over her face that I'll never forget. "You
messed in your pants again didn't you?" There was nothing I could
say except "Yes".  "Do you remember what I told you the last time
you did this?". Again, "Yes" "Well, I guess that's what you want
me to do then isn't it?"  I found myself saying "No", and to this
day I don't know why, because I wanted to be diapered so much. 
"Get upstairs, and wash out those dirty underpants, get a bath,
and stay in your room until I decide what I'm going to do."
    While washing out my underpants, I heard my mother on the
telephone talking with my aunt, who lived just a few blocks away.
She was talking pig-latin to her, thinking that I didn't
understand what she was saying.  My sister and I had figured out
that silly language a year or two before.  Anyway, she was asking
my aunt if she could  borrow some diapers, and large rubber
pants, and explained why.  My aunt must have said OK because my
sister went to get them.
    As I laid in my room, I started thinking again about being
diapered, and by the time my sister got back from my aunts house,
I was ready. 
    Shortly after my sister arrived back in the house, my mother
came up to my room carrying a small stack of diapers, and rubber
pants.  "Do you know what these are" my mother asked. "There baby
diapers." "That's right" she said, "and I think that I should put
one of them one you right now, what do you think."  I was too
excited looking at those wonderful diapers and pants to say
anything.  "Well", my mother said again, breaking in on my
thoughts, "Do you want me to put one of these diapers on you, or
are you going to stop messing in your pants like a two year old?"
"I don't know", I said.  At that my mother became so angry that
she yelled "What do you mean you don't know.  If you don't know,
then I am assuming that your not going to stop this, and I better
put one of these on you. Is that what your telling me?" I could
only reply with "I guess so."
    The next few minutes were both agony, and ecstasy. Agony in
that  the way my mother was treating me was anything but the
loving way I saw her diaper my brother, and ecstasy in that I was
at least getting diapered.  
    After she had me lay on the bed, she slapped my bottom from
the side and told me to lift my legs up so she could get the
diapers under my bottom. That done, she was powdering me saying
things like, "We don't want the baby to get a diaper rash so we
have to powder him. Maybe I should have gotten a baby bottle from
your aunt as well, it seems that if we are going to have a new
baby in the house he should be treated like a new baby, and new
baby's drink from bottles." After the diapers was pinned in
place, next came the rubber pants.  "I guess we better put these
on you as well, you never know what a baby is going to do in his
diapers, and we don't want baby to mess up the furniture do we.
Now you go down stairs a play for awhile." 
    When I arrived down stairs, my sister and brother were
staring at me.  My sister started to laugh at her big brother in
baby diapers and rubber pants.  
    I stayed in diapers that evening, and one time when I had to
pee, I was told to use my diapers, that's why I had them on. 
While getting ready for bed, my mother came in and changed me,
more lovingly this time, and explained that big boys are not
supposed to mess their pants, that they aren't supposed to want
to wear diapers like baby's, and if I ever messed in my pants
again, I would get the same treatment." For tonight I was to wear
a diaper to bed, and if it was dry in the morning, she would take
it off, if it was wet, I would have to continue wearing diapers. 
"Not to school?" I asked. "If this diaper is wet in the morning,
I change you and send you to school in diapers, along with some
clean ones and a note to your teacher explaining what has
happened, and that she should change your diaper if necessary.
    I decided right then and there that I would keep dry that
night, even though I wanted to stay in diapers.  I never messed
in my pants again, until of course I became the Big Baby I am
today.

FILE:  AFTERSCH.DPR