My Retraining

  
	I was in my early teens when my dad took off. It really 
upset my applecart, so to speak. I started having really 
violent spells when I'd hit, kick or punch anything in 
sight, just to get rid of my anger and frustration. I had 
other symptoms too, like moodiness, poor appetite and, worst 
of all in my mother's eyes, I had become a bed wetter again.  
	My mom wasn't in the best of shape to deal with me so 
she recruited my older sister to help look after me. Terry, 
my sister, is twelve years older and she had just finished 
her third year of psychiatric nursing. Since I was acting 
"crazy", mom thought Terry was the best person to look after 
me. It was agreed that Terry and I would go to the family 
cottage for at least a month.  
	Our family's cottage is 90 miles from the family home 
but only half an hour from the city where Terry was going to 
college. That was a big plus for Terry since it meant she 
could keep up with her college friends. Mom had promised to 
pay Terry for her time and that made my sister even happier.  
	I didn't really care. All I knew was that I was 
miserable and that I was in trouble with mom in a big way. 
Spending the summer at the cottage seemed pretty good 
compared to the screaming matches that happened every time 
mom found wet sheets on my bed in the morning.  
	Terry and I set off to the cottage but instead of 
taking the usual route we ended up at her university. I 
thought she just wanted to pick up a few things from her 
apartment in town but she drove to the university campus and 
parked next to the teaching hospital. I knew it was a 
hospital for kids because she had taken me there after I got 
a touch of frost bite when I visited her during Christmas 
break.  
	Terry told me to get out of the car using a tone of 
voice that made me bite back a "Fuck Off!". She escorted me 
into a long hallway. I tried to read the signs as we turned 
this way and that but it was only when we got to the one 
labeled, "C. Johnson MD, Program Head, Juvenile Psychiatry" 
that I had any clue what was going on. I was about to tell 
Terry that I didn't need a shrink but the door was already 
being opened and before I knew it I was looking at C. 
Johnson herself.  
	She was a lot to look at. On the young side of forty, 
she was slim and had that easy kind of good looks that make 
any woman of her type the prettiest in the room. Being a 
shrink also made me putty in her hands, as I was about to 
find out.  
	C. Johnson became Cheryl as soon as the introductions 
were over. The conversation went pretty smoothly.  
	"So, Terry, this is Jamie. You've told me so much about 
him. Any new developments?"  
	Terry relaxed back into her chair and threw me a 
Cheshire cat smile before she said anything. "Nothing new. 
He's still violent, still abusive and still wetting the bed 
every night."  
	I opened my mouth to protest but Cheryl reached across 
the desk and gently gripped my arm. "Don't be shy. I'm 
Terry's thesis supervisor and she has discussed your case 
with me already. I'll be the consulting physician from now 
on."  
	Her touch had a strange effect on me even as her words 
sent new questions churning. Consulting physician? What was 
there to consult on? I wanted to protest or at least find 
out what she meant but the warmth of her hand on my bare 
arm, the faint traces of her perfume and her self confidence 
held me in a spell.  
	She turned her attention to Terry. "Do you have the 
paperwork done?"  
	Terry nodded and handed over a few legal looking 
papers. I recognized my mother's signature. Cheryl looked at 
them briefly, smiled and then set them aside. She squeezed 
my arm gently as she turned back to me.  
	"Do you trust me, Jamie?"  
	I felt my cheeks flush again. They had turned crimson 
at Terry's mention of my bed wetting and now I was the 
center of attention. I didn't like it.  
	I shook my head slightly and mumbled, "I dunno, guess 
so."  
	The grip on my arm tightened. She wasn't going to let 
me stare at the floor. She wanted my attention. Part of me 
was more than willing to give it to her but another part of 
me felt a little scared at this two-on-one situation. 
Another whiff of her perfume changed my mind and I found 
myself gazing into her hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle 
with power.  
	It was as if her next words were delivered by the touch 
of her hand rather than her voice. I felt them instead of 
hearing them. "You are hurting because a trust bond was 
broken when your dad left. You will hurt until a new trust 
bond is built. Your mom can't handle it right now but your 
sister can. I want to help you build that trust bond. Will 
you let me help you?"  
	I nodded without breaking eye contact. The mention of 
my father had suddenly made me start to cry and before I 
knew it I was sobbing uncontrollably.  
	Cheryl looked at Terry and said, "He's the best 
candidate I've seen. I'll bet this emotion turns violent 
pretty easily."  
	I hadn't stopped looking at her as she said this. Her 
words and her touch suddenly made me trust her. I didn't 
care what she wanted to do. I had a sudden surge of faith 
that the two women in this room were the only people I could 
count on. I started to cry even harder.  
	Cheryl got up from her desk without letting go of my 
arm and escorted Terry and me toward the sofa set in the 
corner of her office. After we were settled and someone 
helped dry my tears Cheryl got to the point.  
	"Jamie, I want you to keep an open mind. Do you think 
you can hear me out without reacting?"  
	I nodded, still feeling safe and secure. Cheryl started 
to speak in a soft but firm tone. "The earliest bond between 
care-giver and child is comfort. By keeping a baby dry and 
comfortable a trust bond in formed. We want to recreate that 
bond."  
	I sniffled, still awash in my warm fuzzy feelings from 
Cheryl's touchy-feely maneuver.  
	She continued, "Terry and I have been doing some 
research involving diapers...."  
	My head snapped up in surprised suspicion. Cheryl laid 
her warm soft hand on my arm and let me calm down for a 
moment before she continued.  
	"We've found that a brief return to diapers in the care 
and custody of a care-giver can do wonders to restore a 
patient's confidence in the world."  
	My warm fuzzy was turning luke-warm fast. I gripped her 
arm and said, "You want me to wear diapers?"  
	She nodded and I felt a pit form in the bottom of my 
stomach. I started to turn away but Cheryl took my head in 
her hands and made me look at her. Those eyes began their 
bewitching as soon as I looked into them.  
	"Yes, Jamie, we are going to put you back into diapers 
- but only for a few weeks. It'll be at the cottage, mostly, 
or here at the Institute but no one but us will know."  
	Looking into her irises I felt the trust return. It was 
hard, really hard, to look into her eyes and think about 
what she was saying. She kept saying reassuring things, 
soothing my fear and shame. I glanced at Terry and saw the 
smirk had been replaced by a seemingly sincere look of 
concern.  
	Cheryl kept explaining how it was all so harmless, how 
it would all be so private and how it really was all for the 
best. Slowly it began to work on me. Soon it sounded like 
the most natural thing in the world and the more she talked 
about the privacy at the lake the more I found myself 
nodding. I guess I would have agreed to anything just to 
stay in those warm powerful eyes.  
	Before I knew it we were all standing up and moving 
toward the doorway. I had a sinking feeling that I had 
agreed to something that I wasn't going to like but I 
couldn't put my finger on it.  
	We went back into the spotless corridors, the three of 
us walking in step. I wanted to ask where we were going but 
it didn't seem right, didn't seem the thing to do. Soon we 
were passing wards with beds in them occupied mostly by 
little kids but some were as big as me.  
	Finally we turned into a small examination room. There 
was a large table in the center of it, covered by a paper 
sheet. Cheryl closed and locked the door and then motioned 
for me to get on the table. Terry started to sort through a 
cupboard at the end of the room.  
	I felt scared, "Uhm, what are we here for?"  
	Cheryl smiled as she guided me to lie down on the 
table. Then she sent her long slim fingers to work on the 
snap of my shorts. It was all I could do not to stop her.  
	"Ssssssh," Cheryl cooed, "it's best that we start right 
now. Just relax and we'll have you all bundled up nice and 
comfy in a few seconds."  
	Her touch and voice lulled me into a feeling of 
security. I let her open my shorts and pull them and my 
underwear down my thighs. The paper sheet felt strange 
beneath my buttocks. The cool air seemed to scream out my 
nudity and I tried to cover myself but Cheryl moved my hands 
away.  
	Even after Terry passed the extra large disposable 
diaper to Cheryl I felt unable to move. Cheryl fluffed it 
out, an exact replica of the Huggies and Pampers I had seen 
kids in my neighborhood wear.  
	Terry came up along the other side of the table. I felt 
her hands on my naked hips and I obediently lifted my 
bottom.  
	I looked into Cheryl's eyes as I sensed the diaper 
being slid beneath me. They were warm eyes, trust-filled 
eyes and confident eyes. I focused on them as I lowered my 
bare bottom onto the paper lining.  
	It was warm, warmer than the paper sheet - and soft, 
softer than the thin padding on top of the table. I stared 
hard into Cheryl's eyes while Terry expertly drew the diaper 
up between my legs, forcing them a little wider apart in the 
process.  
	As soon as the thick crotch of the diaper began to 
caress my genitals I began to get hard from the strange 
sensation. It was embarrassing but already the diaper tapes 
were being fastened, making the garment snug, hiding the 
erection and enclosing me in soft warm padding.  
	It was an incredible feeling, it was as if the diaper 
was covering all of me, not just my loins. I heard myself 
gasp with surprise. All this time Cheryl never let my eyes 
stray from hers. As the diaper had enclosed me it was as if 
she had held me in her power while it had happened.  
	I flexed my thighs against the strangely thick padding 
and squirmed a little. Cheryl's hazel eyes shifted toward 
Terry for a second before she said, "And now for your 
plastic pants."  
	I looked up at Terry just in time to see her fit a pair 
of frosty plastic panties over my ankles. The elastic on the 
legs and waist bands felt scratchy as she worked the panty 
up my legs and over my knees. Then I had to lift my hips 
again while both women worked the panty up over my diaper 
and into place.  
	Cheryl helped me off the table. As soon as I stood I 
was very much aware of the diaper's bulk between my thighs 
and a growing, gentle warmth as it and the plastic pants 
trapped my body heat. It was so distracting that even after 
Cheryl handed me my shorts I couldn't seem to remember to 
put them on and she had to do it for me.  
	Lucky for me that I had been wearing a larger size of 
shorts. They only barely covered the diaper and plastic 
pants and were tight enough to press the diaper against me. 
I took a few trial steps and felt myself waddle from all the 
padding. Worst of all there was a tell-tale crackling sound 
from the diaper and the plastic pants. I looked up at Cheryl 
and blurted out, "I'm scared. It feels funny and everybody 
will know I'm diapered - they'll laugh!"  
	Cheryl crouched down and took my hands in hers. Her 
touch reassured me. "The only people who will know," she 
said quietly, "are those people who are caring for you or 
other kids who will also be in diapers. C'mon. I'll show 
you."  
	She led me back out to the corridor. We went to a large 
window that overlooked an enclosed outdoor play area. There 
were about two dozen kids playing in there and all wore only 
a T-shirt and diapers. A few of the kids were even older 
than me.  
	I looked down at my bulging shorts and then caught my 
reflection in the glass. I had to admit that it wasn't 
really that obvious that there was a diaper under my shorts. 
I tried to relax while Terry and Cheryl led me out of the 
building.  
	It was a short walk for them but it seemed miles long 
to me. With every step the diaper shifted, rubbing me in 
very sensitive places and reminding me of its presence. The 
longer I wore the plastic pants the hotter they got. By the 
time we reached the parking lot I was having second thoughts 
about the whole deal but it didn't seem to be the right time 
to complain, especially since Cheryl hadn't let go of my 
hand since the examination room and I really liked having 
her touch me.  
	We stopped beside a green mini-van and I was surprised 
when Cheryl unlocked the large side passenger door and 
motioned for me to get in. There was a clear space behind 
the driver's and passenger's seats but the rest of the van 
was full of big boxes with the names of medical supply 
companies stenciled on them. I was staring hard at them when 
Cheryl tapped me on the shoulder, "Strip down to your 
diapers, please. I have new clothes for you to wear from now 
on."  
	I was suddenly scared but one look at her eyes began to 
melt my resistance. Without moving my eyes away from hers I 
pulled off my T-shirt, peeled down my shorts and slipped off 
my socks and shoes. I put my hands on the plastic pants but 
she gently grasped my wrists and pulled them away.  
	"No...." she cooed. When I said `down to your diapers' 
that included the plastic panties. Besides, it's a big rule 
that you must never touch your diapers and plastic panties 
or try to put your hands inside them." I nodded mutely. Then 
Terry handed her a garment.  
	Cheryl fluffed it out. I had never seen one before then 
but I now know it to have been a diaper shirt, basically a 
T-shirt with a cotton panty attached, making it a sort of 
body suit for toddlers. Only this one was too big for a 
toddler - it was made of pale blue jersey cotton and meant 
for me.  
	Cheryl bunched the material down to the waist part of 
the panty and held it open so I could step into it. I did so 
reluctantly, persuaded only by my crush on Cheryl. She 
pulled the panty part up my legs and over my diaper. Then I 
had to hold out my arms in front of me so she could fit the 
sleeves. Finally the garment was fastened up my spine using 
buttons that were enclosed in little pockets after being 
fastened. Later I would discover that this made it almost 
impossible for me to open them by myself. But for the moment 
I was happy to have my diapers hidden from view. At Cheryl's 
command I scampered into the passenger seat and fastened my 
seat belt. A few moments later we were headed for the 
cottage. Terry followed in her car.  
	I was surprised when Cheryl pulled into a Burger King. 
She entered the drive-through lane and ordered a large diet 
Sprite with no ice. I started to ask for some fries but she 
shushed me and told the order taker that the drink was all 
we would need.  
	I started to ask Cheryl why I couldn't have some food 
but she shushed me again and told me to be quiet for now. 
When the drink came she told me to drink it all and then she 
would explain. A few seconds later we were back on the road 
again. I couldn't see Terry's car any more and I guessed she 
had gone on to the cottage ahead of us.  
	I didn't really want the drink but I gulped it down to 
please Cheryl. Having the straw in my mouth meant I couldn't 
talk and so I studied her. She was wearing a summer suit and 
I thought her nylons and high heeled white pumps looked 
really classy and sexy. She had taken off the suit jacket 
before climbing in and her blouse was sheer and elegant 
without being too immodest or suggestive. She had a 
respectable bosom but nothing showed from under her slip and 
blouse. As I stared I realized my diaper was getting hot and 
itchy. Remembering that I wasn't supposed to touch it I 
squirmed in my seat.  
	Cheryl glanced over, "Itchy?". I nodded while making a 
show of drinking the Sprite. She smiled and turned her 
attention back to the road. "You'll get used to it."  
	But I couldn't seem to get used to it. The diaper 
seemed to wrap my most private and sensitive places in a 
warm damp blanket. If not for the odd itch here and there it 
might have been even pleasant. As I stared down at the 
strange bulge at the crotch of the one piece garment I 
noticed that I now experienced two worlds: one confined 
inside the tight elastic bands of the plastic panty and the 
big world I shared with everyone else.   
	Although no one but me could know what happened in my 
diaper world it nonetheless colored everything I said did 
and felt. It was like wearing a pair of sunglasses, 
everything was colored by what I wore between my legs.  
	Cheryl kept an eye on me from the corner of her eye and 
I found myself staring at her from time to time. The more I 
studied her the prettier she became and anytime I felt 
anxious about wearing a diaper and this strange sort of body 
suit the memory of her touch and the occasional trace of her 
perfume seemed to calm me.  
	She wasn't talking very much so I stared out the 
window. I could feel a pressure building in my bladder and 
so I began to struggle with what it would really mean to be 
wearing a diaper. I guess I started squirming a bit because 
Cheryl said to me in a calm, soothing voice, "I know you'll 
need to pee soon. Don't worry about it. Just let it happen. 
Pretend you're a little kid who has no control. Just relax. 
Let it happen."  
	Her voice began to blend with the road noise and the 
roar of the wind. She repeated the soothing thoughts over 
and over again until my eyes began to feel heavy. Soon I 
could smell her perfume more clearly and heard only her 
voice.   
	My need to pee was increasing steadily but I was only a 
little uncomfortable, not desperate. I knew that we would 
get to the cottage soon and I thought I could hold on for 
that.  
	"Wet yet?" Cheryl asked softly.  
	A little startled, I looked at her as my cheeks burned 
at the overt reference to my diaper. I shook my head.  
	"Waiting 'till we get there?"  
	I nodded.   
	She flashed her perfect white teeth in an indulging 
smile. "There's no need to wait, Jamie. You're in diapers 
now. Waiting is only important if you need a toilet. You 
don't need a toilet anymore - or at least for a long while." 
Her tone softened into that same hypnotic, seductive, velvet 
tone. I watched her perfect lips make them and breathed in 
her power and confidence.  
	I felt myself relax into her presence, surrendering 
myself to her as though she could even breathe for me. 
Sealed inside the cockpit of her van and insulated from the 
outside world by speed and her touch on the controls I felt 
safe and secure for the first time in months.  
	I wanted my pee to start to flow of its own accord - 
just the way she wanted but in truth I had to urge it on 
more than a little. My fear of wetting had been groomed, 
like the nap of suede, into a new direction - that of 
welcoming the event. Her words continued in a soft monotone 
and I let her voice recede into the background as I tried to 
relax my bladder.  
	When it finally started I felt gripped by it. I was a 
child again, not caring about anything. Cheryl's voice 
continued to coax me and I relaxed some more, letting the 
warm wetness blossom around my erection and balls. Next to 
orgasm, it was the most wonderful, naughty feeling I had 
ever known.  
	On and on it went, a slow steady stream of hurt, fear, 
anxiety and pain that was magically transformed by the pads 
around my loins into the warmth of Cheryl's touch and 
caring.  
	I guess I must have gone into a bit of a daze because 
the next thing I knew Cheryl's normal voice was asking me if 
I felt better. I looked up to see that she was smiling like 
a proud mother and the twinkle in her eye said she knew I 
had wet.  
	I blushed and squirmed a little. Wearing the diaper was 
one thing, wetting it was another but having someone else 
know what was going on in my private little diaper world 
seemed invasive and humbling.  
	When I was sure Cheryl was busy with some traffic I ran 
my hands over the taunt blue cotton that covered the bulge 
of my diaper. It seemed so strange that beneath its placid 
shell such wonderful feelings were coloring my mind.   
	I pressed the bulge tentatively and was surprised that 
I could barely feel the pressure. The rest of the trip was 
lost in sensory daydreams as my imagination focused on the 
feelings from my diaper, the heat-retaining plastic pants 
and my bare feet on the new carpeting of the van.  
	  
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 ***  
	I looked at the smirk on Terry's face and then glanced 
at my room again. It didn't look like it belonged to me 
anymore - maybe to some toddler or baby but not to me.  
	My bed had been stripped down to a white vinyl mattress 
cover that was so new I could smell it's chemical perfume. 
Two boxes of Pampers stood in the corner each marked 
"Institutional Use - Oversize". Beside them was a stack of 
what could only be cloth diapers and on the chair that 
usually served as my clothes rack there was a pile of frosty 
plastic pants in a variety of colors but obviously big 
enough for me. My dresser, usually the camping spot for my 
fishing gear, now featured a starched white cover and 
containers of Vaseline, baby powder and other baby supplies.  
	I opened my mouth to protest but Terry stepped forward 
and gently put her hand over my lips. "Shhhhh..." she cooed 
as she guided me to a sitting position on the bed and then 
made me sit down, "just relax and do what you're told. It'll 
be good. You'll see."  
	With her hand over my mouth I wasn't inclined to 
protest. Besides, Cheryl had almost hypnotized me in the 
car. I think the diaper had something to do with it too 
because it seemed to rob me of any ability to get mad. I was 
still spending too much effort balancing its strange 
sensations and everything else that was going on.  
	Before I knew it Terry was pushing me onto my back. A 
protest formed in my throat but one look at her made me 
stifle it. She took both my ankles in her left hand as she 
lifted them. Then I felt her fingers invade the crotch area 
of my diaper and plastic pants. When she turned her head I 
followed the motion and saw Cheryl standing in the door way.  
	"He has wet, but only once and the Pampers are taking 
care of it. I don't think he needs to be changed quite yet."  
	Cheryl gave me an indulging smile, "Do you need to be 
changed? Would you like a nice fresh diaper?"  
	Before I could recover from my surprise she turned back 
to Terry and said, "Since he's not exactly in tears about 
it, I agree. He'll probably be all right until we put him 
down." She looked at her watch. By my reckoning it was about 
4:30.  
	"Yes. There's only a couple of hours before bed. Leave 
him in the diaper shirt until then." Terry nodded and stood 
up, essentially releasing me. Cheryl disappeared down the 
hall while my sister and I looked at each other.  
	A lot was said in those few seconds and all of it 
without a word being spoken. I lay there with my legs spread 
apart, a partly wet diaper cupping my groin and my room 
turned into a nursery. She stood and looked powerful, 
commanding. I waited for her to say something but she never 
did. After what seemed a long time she took my wrists, 
pulled me erect and then gave me a gentle push toward the 
door. Her playful slap on my diapered bottom was barely felt 
through all the padding.  
	Cheryl was making dinner in the kitchen. I went into 
the living room, suddenly feeling strange. Every time I took 
a step or moved or sat down I was quickly reminded that I 
was wearing a diaper. Every time I felt a twinge from my 
bladder I wondered what it would be like to wet the diaper 
again. My ears told me that the plastic backing of the 
Pampers and the plastic panty that covered it made crackling 
sounds when I walked. In short, I was too absorbed by what I 
was wearing to give much thought to television, playing 
outside or anything else.  
	I sat down on the floor cross-legged and thumbed 
through a comic book. The pressure in my bladder was growing 
steadily and I knew I would soon have to pee again. Only 
this time Cheryl wasn't here to soothe me into it. The more 
I thought about it, the worse it got and soon I was rocking 
back and forth. Then, without really meaning to, I relaxed 
enough to let it go.   
	The hot rush made me moan. I was captured by the 
sensations of what seemed to be a flood of warm water 
rushing into the diaper and being absorbed by the thirsty 
padding. I felt the urine progress down between my legs and 
then rise up along the my bottom. I was mesmerized by it and 
although my cheeks were burning from surprise and shame I 
had to admit that it thrilled me a little. As the pee began 
to cool the rush ended. Suddenly it didn't feel good anymore 
and the squishy feeling I got from my bottom made me feel 
dirty and ashamed.  
	I suddenly realized that Cheryl was watching from the 
kitchen door. "Still not used to it yet, huh?"  
	I shook my head.  
	"Don't worry, I know some kids at the hospital who have 
been in diapers for years and some of them say the same 
thing. Well, try not to focus on it too much. Terry and I 
will keep an eye on you and change you when you need it. 
Don't bother asking for a change, we'll pretend we didn't 
hear you."  
	She smiled one of her special smiles and half turned 
back to the kitchen. Then she stopped and turned back to 
face me before saying, "You're not allowed to take them off 
you know."  
	"Take what off?" I blurted out though I had already 
guessed what she meant.  
	She giggled. "Your diaper, silly! Think of it as 
doctor's orders. You'll be kept in diapers until we decide 
otherwise." There was a pause while she watched me 
instinctively rub my hands over the seamless cotton that 
protected my diapers from my probing hands. I could feel it 
all through the thin material: the waist band of the plastic 
panty, the hard little squares of the diaper tapes and the 
thick padding that was pressed so tightly against my most 
private places.  
	Just as I was about to say something, anything to get 
my dibs in, she shook my world again. "That's why the 
clothing is designed so you can't get your hands inside to 
get at your diapers or take them off."  
	I felt my jaw drop as the meaning hit me. I looked down 
at my bulging waist area and then up at her but by then she 
was gone and I was left to idly run my fingers over the 
taunt cotton shell and wonder what was to happen to me.  
	I guess I was still trying to digest what Cheryl had 
said by the time she called for supper. I ate my dinner 
slowly and without much enthusiasm. My diaper was wet and 
heavy as it clung to me with a clammy efficiency that felt 
awful. I wanted to beg for a change by then but Cheryl's 
words were still too fresh in my mind. I prayed they would 
change me but if my sister and her friend thought about my 
condition they didn't do anything about it.  
	Normally in the summer time I was allowed to stay up 
quite late, at least until 9:30 but it was just past 8 when 
Terry came into the living room, turned off the TV and 
before I could say a word, pulled me to my feet and began to 
lead me from the room as if I was a child too small to 
understand English.  
	"Hey!" was all I could manage to say and it sounded 
pretty limp, even to me.  
	"Hey yourself. Cheryl says you need extra sleep so its 
off to be for you. Don't make a fuss or you'll get in 
trouble."  
	It wasn't very far from the living room to my bedroom 
so it's not surprising that I hadn't thought up a smart 
retort by the time Terry pulled me into my room and pushed 
me onto my bed.  
	I was instantly aware of two things - a very strong 
dose of Cheryl's perfume had been sprayed around and there 
was a very strange looking garment on the bed beside me.  
	Cheryl was sitting on the chair in the corner. The pile 
of plastic panties had been moved to the floor but she 
played with a yellow pair as if she had never seen them 
before. She waited until I had locked eyes with her before 
she spoke.  
	"It's time you got your night diapers. You won't give 
us any fuss, will you? You're such a good boy. I really 
wouldn't want to have to punish you."  
	I gulped, "Punish me?"  
	She gave me a condescending look, "Yes, punish you. 
Diapers are a part of your therapy. Therapy makes you 
better. So if we have to be a little stern when it comes to 
the rules, we will be."  
	Without thinking, I blurted out, "So what are the 
rules?"  
	Cheryl lowered her gaze. She seemed to be studying the 
plastic panty as she spoke. "You will accept the fact that 
you will be kept in diapers until I decide otherwise. You 
will wait to be changed, without asking for a diaper change 
or complaining about being uncomfortable. You will do what 
you are told without back-talk or other fussing."  
	There was a pause while she ran her hands over the 
frosty plastic. "If you misbehave you will be punished. I 
won't tell you how you'll be punished but I promise you that 
you won't like it."  
	By the time she had finished my cheeks were crimson and 
even though I hadn't done anything I felt like bursting into 
tears.  
	"What's wrong," she asked.  
	I just sobbed. Nobody wanted to comfort me. Then after 
a while I heard Cheryl say, "Double diapers for overnight, 
Terry and make sure the sleeper is on tight enough to keep 
him out of trouble." Then she strode out of the room.  
	Terry looked at me impatiently. If you have to pee 
again do it now.   
	I shook my head, even though I probably could have let 
a little water go if I had wanted to. I was so desperate to 
be rid of that wet diaper I would have said or done 
anything.  
	Without another word, Terry rolled me onto my tummy and 
began to work on the buttons that ran down the back of the 
diaper shirt. I could feel the tight cotton loosening and 
only then did I realize how snug the garment had been and 
how good it felt to have it taken off.  
	I guess I must have been perspiring under the shirt 
because the air of the bedroom felt especially cool against 
my torso. Terry rolled me onto my back, making sure my 
diaper area came to rest on a plastic coated changing pad. 
She pulled the diaper shirt down my legs and then reached up 
for the waist band of my plastic pants.  
	"My goodness!" she said with artificial cheerfulness, 
"You have learned to use your diapers, haven't you. Such a 
big baby makes big pee pees!"   
	I bit my lower lip. I wanted to tell her not to be mean 
to me but I wanted to be let out of that wet diaper even 
more.  
	She had my plastic pants off in a jiffy and then she 
opened the tapes of the Pampers. She grabbed my ankles in my 
left hand and hoisted my bottom off the diaper while she 
slid it out from under me. Then, still holding my bottom 
high, she slid two Pampers beneath me. As she lowered my 
damp bottom onto the warm soft dry pads I thought nothing 
had ever felt so good.  
	Terry surprised me by reaching for a big can of baby 
powder and dusting me with it, front and back. The first 
diaper was pulled up between my legs and fastened. As its 
soft, warm lining made contact with my cool (but no longer 
damp) skin I heard myself gasp with delight. Terry smiled 
back and winked as she used a pair of scissors to poke holes 
in the crotch area of my diaper.  
	The second diaper was a whole new experience. Terry 
guided my legs further apart as she brought the diaper into 
position and as its tapes were being fastened I was overcome 
with a feeling of being bundled up in padding so well that 
nothing could ever hurt again.   
	She fitted a pair of frosty white plastic pants over my 
ankles and worked them to my knees before pulling me to my 
feet. That's when I found out just how thick my double 
diapers really were. It seemed as if the bulk at my crotch 
forced my legs miles apart but as I looked down at Terry's 
strong slim fingers working the plastic pants up my legs I 
saw that my feet really weren't very far apart at all.  
	She made me hold out my arms while she leaned over me, 
checking the waist and leg bands to make sure that all the 
diapers were captured inside the panty. Then she turned to 
the strange garment on the bed.  
	As she picked it up and got it ready for me to step 
into I realized it was a one-piece sleeper. I had only ever 
seen them on little kids. I thought of complaining that I 
didn't want to wear kiddie clothes but then I looked down at 
my bulging diaper panty and decided not to risk getting into 
trouble.  
	Before I knew it I had stepped into the legs that Terry 
had held open for me and she was fitting me into the 
garment. I had to hold out my arms so she could fit the 
sleeves over then and then I felt her raise the zipper that 
was at the back of the garment.  
	The blanket like material felt warm and cozy compared 
to the cool evening air. It was like wearing pajamas and I 
decided I really didn't mind it too much at all.  
	Terry went to get something from one of the drawers in 
my dresser. I tried to see what it was but she concealed it 
in her hand as she came toward me and ordered me to turn my 
back to her. Much as I was curious I did as I was told and 
soon her fingers were doing something to the zipper at the 
back of my neck. Suddenly there was a rasping sound followed 
by the snip of a pair of scissors. Terry told me to turn 
around.  
	"There you are." she said while gently guiding me onto 
the mattress. When I was positioned on the white vinyl cover 
she drew a light cotton blanket over me.  
	Suddenly my warm, safe secure little world got scary. I 
wanted my bed to be just like it used to be. "There's no 
sheets." I whined.  
	"That will come later." she said quietly, "Things 
aren't the way they were."  
	"But I'll be cold! I need more blankets!" I protested, 
hoping to delay her departure.  
	She shook her head, "you'll be fine; the sleeper will 
keep you toasty warm."  
	I changed position, fighting the bulk of the diapers 
between my thighs, suddenly very aware of being enclosed in 
the sleeper and not liking how the sleeper slid on the taunt 
vinyl.   
	Terry was watching me intently. After a few minutes of 
my squirming she said, "Remember, don't fiddle with your 
diapers, stay in bed until we come for you and don't ask for 
a diaper change - it won't do you any good." After a pause 
she continued with, "Good night, little Jamie." and turned 
off the light before slipping through the heavy curtain that 
was the door to the room.  
	I felt stunned. I didn't have even a pillow and as I 
tossed and turned on the mattress cover the slippery sounds 
began to terrify me. I didn't care what Terry had said, I 
wanted my flannel sheets and heavy blankets back, not to 
mention my feather pillow. It took me what seemed to be an 
eternity but in reality was likely about ten minutes to 
summon up the courage to speak.  
	"Terry? Cheryl?" I said in a mild calling voice. I knew 
they were only a few feet away, watching TV with the volume 
turned low.   
	There was no answer so I called again, this time a lot 
louder, "Terry? Cheryl?....I, I can't sleep. It doesn't feel 
right."  
	Still no response. I waited some more, passing the time 
by listening to the TV program and wishing I could be out 
there with them. Suddenly it seemed wrong to be in bed so 
early and to be bundled up in diapers like a baby.  
	I tried a new tack. "Can I come watch TV? I'm not tired 
yet."  
	I was rewarded with the sound of footsteps. Cheryl 
stepped through the curtain. "You're being naughty, you 
know. Doctor's orders are doctor's orders."  
	I searched her face for some sign that she wasn't mad 
at me but both her voice and expression were neutral.  
	"It doesn't feel right," I pouted softly.  
	"What doesn't feel right?" she said levelly.  
	I clutched at my sleeper, "This," and then ran my hands 
over the mattress cover, "and this." Suddenly I couldn't 
bear to meet her eyes so I stared at her sneakers while I 
waited for her response.  
	Her voice turned soft, understanding, compassionate, 
the way it had been in her office, "I know its tough but 
there is a schedule to keep up. If we let you stay up for an 
hour of TV you'll have to do something in return to speed up 
your therapy."  
	"What?" I whispered.  
	"Drink two bottles of milk and agree to sleep with a 
pacifier in your mouth."  
	I felt a spark of suspicion. "A pacifier? What's that?"  
	She turned on the warm charm in her voice. "Some people 
call it a soother - it's just a rubber nipple."  
	Now I knew what she was talking about. Picturing it in 
my head made me think of babies and that reminded me of what 
I was wearing. Somehow being in diapers didn't seem so bad 
when Cheryl was with me. A desire to be close to Cheryl blew 
away everything else in my mind and I nodded.  
	Cheryl took my hand and helped me to my feet. I still 
couldn't look at her but just her touch was wonderful. I 
caught a faint trace of her perfume and even though it was 
hard to walk in my double thick night diapers I felt 
thrilled to be beside her.  
	Terry got up from the couch and smiled at me before 
saying to Cheryl, "Want me to see to the bottles?"  
	Cheryl's voice had a professional tone in it when she 
said, "Sure. Lace them both. You know what to do."  
	I didn't know what the term "lace" meant but was too 
grateful to be near Cheryl to bother asking. She and I sat 
down on the couch and she made sure I snuggled up close. I 
was beaming with contentment and didn't bother to watch 
Terry get the bottles ready.  
	When Terry came back from the kitchen she was carrying 
two extra large baby bottles of warm milk. As soon as I saw 
them I knew I didn't want them but one look at Cheryl told 
me there was no use in trying to wiggle out of them. I took 
one of the bottles and put its warm rubber nipple to my 
lips. I could smell the milk before I tasted it and it 
seemed to bring back some ancient memory. I didn't have time 
to think about it because Cheryl took the bottle from my 
hands and pressed it into my mouth, forcing me to suck on 
it. I tried to move her hands but she was firm and so while 
the two women watched their program I sucked noisily on the 
bottle, trying not to choke.  
	As soon as the first bottle was empty Cheryl tried to 
put the second one to my lips. I tried to fuss so she pulled 
me across her lap into the classic nursing position and 
supported the back of my head with her right hand while 
using her left to guide the bottle. My hands fluttered 
uselessly for a second before I gave up and began to suck 
again. My tummy was pretty full from the first bottle but I 
was sure Cheryl would get mad if I fussed any more.  
	By the time that bottle was full I felt bloated. Cheryl 
took it away and I looked up at her with hurtful eyes. "That 
wasn't nice!" I sniffled.  
	She looked down at me with an amused grin. "You could 
have spent the last half hour alone in your room."  
	I wasn't mollified, "It still wasn't nice." I pouted.  
	Cheryl didn't even skip a beat, "It wasn't supposed to 
be. It was the price you paid for staying up later. Now, if 
you don't be quiet right now I'll ask Terry to get your 
pacifier for you right away."  
	She seemed to grow hard and cold in an instant. "That's 
it! Terry, get the pacifier with straps if you please. I 
think a pair of mittens are also in order."   
	While Terry got up from the couch Cheryl pushed me off 
her lap and into a sitting position. Then she drew both my 
wrists behind my back and held them tightly.   
	I pulled against her grip. "I hate you!" I screamed and 
kept on screaming until Terry came back with some strange 
looking stuff in her hands.  
	Cheryl pushed me onto my tummy on the couch, still 
holding my wrists. I felt her and Terry each take a wrist 
and fit something strange over my hands. There was some 
tightening and fumbling and then, to my astonishment, my 
wrists were joined together, still behind my back.  
	Trussed like a chicken I was hauled to my feet just in 
time to see the over-sized amber soother before it was 
pushed into my mouth. There was a tangle of leather straps 
which were quickly drawn into place around my head and 
tightened, all despite my grunting, squirming protests.  
	The soother had a big plastic bulb on it that seemed to 
fill my mouth without choking me. I could breath all right 
but the big plastic shield of the device felt strange on my 
lips and I felt a bit of drool start. I really didn't like 
this thing and tried to tell Cheryl and Terry but all I got 
out were angry grunts.  
	Satisfied with my condition, the women pulled me back 
toward my room. I was pushed onto my bed and my hands were 
unfastened. Before I could react they were gone.  
	The room swirled around me in confusion. I held up my 
hands to see that they were now confined in huge canvass 
mittens. The inside lining was slippery and loose. I tried 
to grip the little buckles that kept them on my wrists but 
soon gave up.  
	I next turned my attention the straps that held the 
soother in place but they were at the back of my head and 
were also too small for me to grip while wearing the 
mittens.  
	I was mad but all I could make were muffled grunting 
sounds. I was really uncomfortable and the sound of the 
women in the other room laughing at jokes on the TV made me 
even angrier.  
	I heard someone coming toward my room, likely on the 
way to the bathroom. I rolled onto my feet heavily, ready to 
confront whoever it was and make them take the damned thing 
out of my mouth.  
	The footsteps stopped. I guessed she had heard the 
floor boards creak. There was a moment of silence before her 
cool words pierced the thin curtain like shards of glass: 
"If you leave that bed I'll make sure you're fastened to it 
from now on."  
	My anger burst like a bubble. The adrenaline drained 
from me. Suddenly the sleeper seemed too hot, my diapers too 
thick, the mittens too tight and the soother too big. They 
pressed inward on my world each irritant reminding me of 
Cheryl and the control she had over me.  
	I slowly sank onto the mattress, sitting at first, then 
lying down. Cheryl's footsteps disappeared and then I heard 
the bath room door.   
	The room was dark and I `saw' with my senses, feeling 
all the strange things my body experienced. I suddenly 
realized I had to pee very badly and before I really knew 
what was happening there was a warm blossom between my 
thighs. My imagination tracked the wetness as it crept 
downward into the seat of the diaper.  
	A feeling of weakness and fatigue washed over me. I 
felt myself drift into sleep despite my discomforts.  
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 Chapter Two  
	The next morning I awoke bathed in sweat. The cottage 
heated up pretty quickly and if you slept in much past eight 
o'clock you didn't need an alarm clock. As soon as I came 
awake I felt faint from the heat and knew I had to move my 
bowels very soon.  
	I felt slimy everywhere, especially around my mouth 
where the plastic shield of the soother had made me drool 
all night. When I moved my head I could feel a puddle of 
wetness on the vinyl mattress cover.  
	The sleeper had become damp from my perspiration and 
the clump of diapers between my legs had turned into a hard 
wet lump that chaffed the insides of my thighs.  
	I groaned into the rubber thing in my mouth. It had 
made my jaws ache and of all my miseries it was one of the 
worst. I thought about getting out of bed but remembered 
what had happened just before I had fallen asleep.  
	My bottom felt really full and I turned onto my tummy 
to see if it lessened the pressure any. It had the opposite 
effect and I grunted some more as the pressure built. I 
wanted to turn over again to stop things from happening but 
I was afraid to move.   
	Having my weight on my tummy wasn't very good either so 
I got up on all fours. This was the easiest to bear but I 
suddenly sensed my control weakening. The next little spasm 
was more than I could handle and suddenly my bottom was 
oozing hot mush into the seat of my diapers.  
	I heard myself make surprised little grunting sounds as 
the need to expel took control of me. My arms got tired and 
I took my weight on my elbows but my bottom stayed high in 
the air as nature took its course.  
	I grunted and moaned, dreading yet welcoming the 
release. It felt awful and I hated the warm soft pudding-
like feeling.  
	When it was over I felt frozen to the spot, afraid to 
move. I listened to my labored breathing and smelled my own 
sweat mixed with the vinyl of the mattress cover, stale 
spittle and faint traces of baby powder and Cheryl's 
perfume.  
	Holding my buttocks high like that let me feel how 
heavy my diaper had become. I could only remember having wet 
once, just before going to sleep. I must have wet during the 
night and that scared me. Memories of summer camp and kids 
being taunted for being bed wetters flooded into my mind. I 
began to tremble.  
	Cheryl's voice startled me: "That looked interesting."  
	I looked sideways to see that she had slipped through 
the curtain. I guess she had watched me mess.   
	She was wearing a pair of white shorts and a bikini 
swimsuit top. As soon as I saw her I caught her perfume. It 
dissolved me into tears and my heart sang when I saw her 
expression soften.  
	"There, there," she cooed while she sat down on the bed 
and began to guide me into lying on my tummy, "I'm here now 
and it's a new day. We'll get you fixed up right away."  
	I sobbed with relief that she had come and that I 
wasn't in trouble anymore. I could barely keep still while 
her nimble fingers worked at the buckles of the soother 
harness. As soon as it was loose she gently eased it from my 
mouth and quickly wiped my lips and chin with a clean dry 
cloth.  
	I let my tongue explore its new freedom while my 
mittens were removed. Just being close to Cheryl made me 
feel better, even though every movement I made caused the 
load in my diaper to shift.  
	I was mesmerized with her as she stripped off the 
sleeper and then led me down the hall to the bath room where 
I stood in the tub while she lowered my plastic panty and 
expertly loosened the diapers.  
	I took a deep breath and trembled with apprehension 
while the heavy, messy diapers were lowered down my legs. 
Cheryl expertly popped them into a plastic bag and sealed 
it. Then she reached for the hand-held shower nozzle and 
made sure the temperature was just right before turning me 
around and sending the warm stream of water on its mission 
to my bottom.  
	"That feels better, doesn't it?" she said over and over 
again as the she used the shower to clean me up. I had long 
since stopped crying but I felt mute, unable to say 
anything. For the first time since going to bed I felt safe 
and cared-for and I didn't want that to change - not ever.  
	She dried me off with a big fluffy towel and then took 
me by the hand to lead me back to my room. I was stark naked 
and it felt funny to not have thick padding between my legs.  
	As soon as we entered my room the spell began to wear 
off. She asked me to stand quietly while she got a diaper 
ready for me. I watched her go to the big box of Pampers and 
take one out. I gulped and felt my face turn red. "Uh," I 
gasped, "Do I have to wear a diaper?"  
	Cheryl gave me an indulging smile. "Still thinking 
about how you spent the night, huh? Well, yes, you do have 
to wear a diaper and no, it won't always be like last 
night." She paused until that had sunk in and then said, 
"Jamie, you were bad last night and so you were punished. If 
you do as you are told there will be no punishments. So why 
don't you scoot over here right now and get diapered before 
you risk another punishment."  
	That was all I needed. I got up onto the bed and put my 
naked bum, still warm from the shower, onto the middle of 
the Pampers. Cheryl powdered my diaper area and then taped 
the diaper snugly. She worked a pair of blue plastic pants 
up my legs and then put me into the same pale blue diaper 
shirt I had worn yesterday.  
	At first the diaper felt warm and soft but by the time 
she was fastening the buttons on the diaper shirt the 
plastic pants were making me sweat and the diaper shirt was 
putting a lot of pressure on the bulge between my legs. I 
grunted and said, "I don't like this thing it makes the 
diaper too tight."  
	Cheryl was behind me and she leaned forward to rest her 
chin on my shoulder, very affectionately, as she replied. It 
gave me a strong dose of her perfume. "Hush now. The diaper 
shirt is tight so you'll feel your diaper all that much 
more. And these special buttons are designed so you can't 
reach around and take the diaper shirt off. Don't bother to 
even try or you'll be punished."  
	I decided to keep quiet. When she had finished with the 
shirt I looked for my socks and shoes but they were still in 
the van. Cheryl told me I wouldn't be allowed shoes for the 
time I was in diaper therapy.  
	We joined Terry for breakfast and I began my first full 
day of "diaper therapy". It was pretty simple, really. I 
wore a diaper, plastic pant and a cover shirt - nothing 
else. If I made mention of the fact I was in diapers neither 
woman acknowledged what I had said. Every now and then one 
of them would check my diaper and change me if I was wet.  
	The best part was swimming time, about mid-morning. I 
was taken to my room where my diaper was removed and my 
regular swim suit put on. It felt wonderful to wear 
something normal again and I scampered down to the dock 
happy as a lark. Terry and Cheryl came in swimming with me 
and for about an hour I almost forgot about diapers and how 
I had spent the night.   
	Terry got out of the water first, leaving Cheryl and me 
to play a while longer. I thought nothing of it until I saw 
her coming down from the cottage. She had changed into a dry 
bathing suit and she was carrying a fresh Pampers and a pair 
of plastic panties for me.  
	I felt the smile vanish from my face and I stopped 
horsing around with Cheryl the moment I saw the diaper in 
Terry's hand. I glanced at Cheryl quickly, hoping against 
hope that she would not make me wear diapers again right 
away, but her face was set in a determined look. "It's OK," 
she whispered as if she was actually helping me, "you'll get 
used to wearing and using your diapers soon."  
	"But I don't want to get used to it..." I moaned as 
Terry reached down for my hands.  
	"Buck up, there kiddo." Terry chided as she peeled down 
my bathing suit, leaving me wet, naked and shivering, even 
though it was probably one of the hottest days of the 
summer.  
	I watched her spread out the giant hour-glass shape of 
the Pampers on the dock. Why did she have to do it here 
where any boater could see? I looked around anxiously but 
the lake was empty. At Terry's bidding I slowly lowered 
myself onto the waiting diaper. It and the dock were both 
warm from the sun and I couldn't help but feel a rush of 
security as the warm dry pads were drawn up between my legs 
and taped snugly. I watched Terry fit the semi-transparent 
plastic pants over my ankles and work them up my legs. Then 
I lifted my hips to let her pull them over the diaper. 
Shortly after that the familiar heat blossom started as the 
plastic pants and diaper trapped my body heat.  
	I stood up, took a step and immediately felt the 
familiar chafing and heard the tell-tale crackle of the 
plastic diaper shell and the waterproof panty. Cheryl was 
right - I was getting used to it in a way.  
	"No diaper shirt?" Cheryl asked Terry as they watched 
me get used to being in diapers again.  
	Terry directed her reply more to me than Cheryl, "Oh I 
thought we might try a few hours without it. If a certain 
somebody can keep his hands off his baby gear he just might 
earn a reward or two."  
	"Or at least avoid another punishment..." Cheryl said 
coyly as she climbed onto the dock. "Let's see if you're 
right. Dry diapers are one thing, wet or messy ones are 
another. He's probably emptied his bladder a couple of times 
while swimming - why don't you get him a bottle or two to 
prime his pump a little."  
	I looked a Cheryl with eyes burning from betrayal. She 
was supposed to be helping me! Now, thanks to her, I was 
going to have to drink a lot so I would wet my diapers.  
	She escorted me up the short hill to the cottage. 
Without the diaper shirt I could hear and see my diapers and 
plastic pants very easily. It was hard not to run my hands 
over them, to feel so much from inside and yet be prevented 
from feeling anything from the outside.  
	Both women kept a sharp eye on me as I forced myself to 
drink two baby bottles full of Kool-aid. By the time the 
last bottle was empty I was feeling really full.  
	The women stretched out on lounges on the deck to sun 
themselves. I quickly discovered I wasn't allowed out of 
their sight, mostly because I wasn't wearing a diaper shirt 
or other clothing that would prevent me from touching my 
plastic pants or diaper. Having nothing better to do, I let 
Terry rub sun screen all over me and then sat in a corner of 
the deck in the sunshine, feeling the hot sun turn my diaper 
into a sauna while my bladder filled. It wasn't long before 
I was squirming (to their delight) and wetting myself.  
	I had been able to resist the itches and scratchiness 
when the diaper was fresh and dry. It was harder after the 
sun went to work on things but after I was forced to wet 
myself it was almost impossible. As sensing this, both Terry 
and Cheryl kept an eye on me as I struggled to control the 
urge to plunge my hands beneath the waist of my plastic 
pants and diaper and scratch like mad.  
	Finally I said, "Do I have to sit in the sun?"  
	"No." Terry said, "you just have to stay in sight.... 
unless of course you would like a nice tight diaper shirt or 
sleeper... then you can go anywhere you want."  
	I made a face at that suggestion and then crawled into 
the shade part of the deck.  
	After a while Terry went in to make lunch. It was 
served on the deck and by the time I sat down to my sandwich 
it was all I could do not to scratch at the hundreds of 
itchy points inside my steamy diaper and plastic panty. I 
must have been squirming a lot because both women looked at 
me and smiled condescendingly.  
	When the meal was over I volunteered to clear the 
table. Both Cheryl and Terry had a couple of glasses of wine 
with their sandwiches and so I thought they might not notice 
that I was out of their sight while inside the cottage.  
	I was right. Both women returned to their lounge chairs 
while I took the first and second loads of dishes to the 
kitchen. By the third load I was pretty sure they were both 
too sleepy to notice how long I was gone. So on my next trip 
I stayed in the kitchen the extra second it took for me to 
plunge my hands inside my diaper and scratch at all the 
itchy places that were driving me crazy. It was wonderful 
and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from moaning with 
pleasure. Then I went out to the deck and cleared the rest 
of the table.  
	I started to run the water to wash the dishes but Terry 
called for me to come out to the deck. When I walked through 
the screen door to the deck neither woman looked sleepy any 
more. They were standing side by side with curious looks on 
their faces. I was immediately on my guard.  
	"Lets have your hands." Cheryl said simply.  
	I held them out and she opened a small foil package. It 
contained a folded towelette which she used to wipe my 
hands. To my amazement streaks of purple appeared all over 
my fingers and part of my palms. There were disapproving 
murmurs.  
	Cheryl led the attack. "What's the rule about hands 
inside diapers?" she demanded and then continued before I 
could answer. "This proves you broke our trust. As soon as 
you were alone in the kitchen you behaved very badly."  
	I felt tears well up in my eyes. "I'm sorry," I 
whimpered, "I was so itchy...."  
	"That doesn't matter," Cheryl continued, "you've been 
bad and now you must be punished." She turned to Terry. "Any 
ideas?"  
	Terry adopted a far-away look. "Double diapers, Ducolax 
and a strait jacket? Until morning?"  
	Cheryl cringed visibly. "Easy, girl. Don't play all 
your cards at once." She turned to me. "Double diapers it 
is, with a suppository and you'll wear double cuffs instead 
of a strait jacket and only until supper." Turning to Terry 
she said, "Don't try that kind of routine over-night unless 
you're prepared for a very tired and cranky patient the next 
day." Then she strolled off the deck like a monarch.  
	It must have been nearly 100 degrees on that deck but I 
suddenly felt cold. I didn't know what a strait jacket was, 
or `double cuffs' or Ducolax for that matter but I was well 
acquainted with double diapers and by the look in Terry's 
eyes I was in for a bad time.  
	My throat had turned to saw dust. "What's a strait 
jacket?" I rasped nervously.  
	Terry crossed her arms over her chest, "It holds your 
arms like this so you can't get into any more trouble."  
	"...And the cuffs?"  
	"You'll find out soon enough." she said with just a 
hint of satisfaction.  
	A long second passed while I tried to digest that. Then 
Terry stepped forward and guided me toward the door to the 
cottage, "Come along, we may as well get started."  
	Cheryl was in my room when we got there. She had spread 
out a fresh Pampers on the bed and there were two sets of 
what looked like leather hand cuffs beside it.  
	Without saying a word, Cheryl reached out peeled down 
my plastic pants. Then she put her hands on my shoulders and 
guided me onto the waiting diaper. I felt her fingers on the 
tapes at one side of my diaper. She released it and then 
hoisted my legs into the air. Before I knew it, Terry had 
passed her something and it was being pushed into my bottom. 
A protest choked in my throat while my half-wet diaper was 
refastened. Then the second diaper was applied.  
	As soon as I felt the same bulk that had been part of 
my punishment last night I got really scared. I pleaded to 
be let off but the women ignored every word I said.   
	Once my plastic pants were back in place they had me 
stand and then Terry told me to hold out my arms in front of 
me. Each of them took a set of the leather handcuffs and 
bound one of my wrists. This left a cuff dangling free on 
each wrist.  
	I was really confused. Standing and then moving in the 
double thick diapers was bad enough but as they led me back 
out to the deck I began to tremble with fear. At the same 
time I felt a strange itch from inside my bum and the memory 
of having messed myself that morning sent panic surging 
through me.  
	As soon as we got to the deck Cheryl and Terry had me 
sit down in the shade with my back to the cottage wall. Then 
they made me flex my knees and at the first touch of the 
spare leather cuffs on my ankles I suddenly understood what 
it was all about. I whined in protest but their nimble 
fingers soon had the buckles tight.  
	If it hadn't been for the double diapers it might not 
have been too bad but being forced to reach forward as if to 
grasp my ankles put a lot of strain on my lower back and 
crotch. The extra padding fought the position and although I 
struggled a little there was nothing I could do to get 
comfortable.  
	"Awww..." I began to complain but stopped short when 
Terry produced the soother and harness I had worn last 
night. I really wanted to complain but I didn't want it as 
much as I hated that soother thing.  
	Without a word Cheryl went back to her lounge chair and 
Terry disappeared into the cottage. She was back a few 
seconds later with a baby bottle full of Kool-Aid. "You can 
hold this between your knees while you suck on it," she said 
while putting the bottle into position, "just remember - 
every time you drop the bottle I'll add another 15 minutes 
to your time in this punishment. Got it?"  
	I nodded and leaned forward that extra inch to bring my 
lips to the nipple. Just as I began to suck and swallow I 
felt the first cramp from my bottom.  
	It was hard, really hard, to keep that bottle between 
my knees, suck and try and fight the growing storm in my 
bottom. After a few minutes I was so miserable that I was 
determined to keep the bottle from falling just to avoid 
even one extra minute of punishment.  
	When Terry heard the raspy sounds of the bottle nearing 
empty she went into the cottage and prepared a fresh one. 
She also brought a cool damp cloth which she used to wipe 
the sweat from my forehead while she replaced the bottles.  
	"Uncomfy?" she cooed softly, sympathetically.  
	I nodded.  
	"There, now, it will be all right. Just a few more 
hours."  
	I whined a protest into the nipple of the bottle.  
	Terry smiled indulgently, "It won't do to complain. You 
knew the rules and you were bad. Bad boys get punished." She 
reached down to my bulging crotch and stroked it lightly. I 
could barely feel the pressure of her hand through all that 
padding. "Have you messed yet?"  
	I shook my head furiously. No, I had not messed. I was 
trying desperately not to mess.  
	"Not to worry. You will mess. It's part of the 
punishment so stop trying to fight it."  
	Two more bottles later the storm in my bottom broke. I 
had never before felt such a compelling need to expel. I 
lost track of everything else while my wrists pulled against 
their tethers to my ankles, deep moans and grunts 
punctuating some pretty disgusting sounds from my diaper 
area.  
	Terry came over to put the half-full bottle back 
between my knees. "Please," I gasped, "let me loose".  
	She shook her head slowly while she smiled as if 
addressing a toddler. "You dropped the bottle." she said 
simply. "That means an extra 15 minutes." She rose and 
strolled over to her lounge chair before I could say or do 
anything else.  
	It was the longest three hours of my life and I still 
don't know how I endured it. By the time Terry looked at her 
watch, near dinner time, and then released the cuffs from my 
ankles I felt permanently molded into that half crouch 
position. She had to help me to my feet and when I moved the 
load in my diaper shifted and I caught a whiff of what I had 
done down there.  
	I was one contrite little boy as she led me to the 
bathroom where my sodden and messy diapers were removed and 
I was sprayed clean. Then it was back to my room for two 
more diapers and the night sleeper. I was so tired I could 
barely keep my eyes open. Terry took sympathy on me by 
giving me a bottle of "liquid meal replacement formula", 
turning off the light and letting me drift off to sleep. It 
was probably not much later than 6:45 p.m.  
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 Chapter Three  
	I woke up the next morning when Cheryl started 
breakfast. I was soaked beneath my plastic panty but dry and 
warm everywhere else. Terry stuck her head through the 
curtain on the way to the bath room. "Hi. It's OK to get up, 
in fact you'd better get your padded bottom to the table 
right away. Cheryl wants to take you to the clinic for 
awhile and then we have some shopping to do."  
	I was a little stiff from my session on the deck 
yesterday afternoon but felt a lot better after my "big 
sleep". Cheryl greeted me warmly and then eyed the bulges 
made by my diapers.  
	"I presume you're soaked, young man."  
	I felt my face turn hot. I nodded while absent-mindedly 
running my hands over the blanket material of the sleeper.  
	"The nice part about sleepers and diaper shirts," 
Cheryl intoned as she turned her attention back to the 
stove, "is that they keep young hands from getting into 
trouble." She threw me a mother-knows-best look. "And I 
trust we'll have no more trouble from you."  
	I gulped and nodded. Two punishments were enough. 
Whatever they wanted me to do or wear - it couldn't be as 
bad as the punishments they dished out.  
	I ate my scrambled eggs and then went back to my room 
where Terry was waiting for me. She released me from the 
sleeper, stripped off my plastic pants and then sent me down 
the hall to the bathroom wearing just my diapers.   
	Cheryl had just finished her shower so she helped me 
out of the diapers, started the water running again and let 
me have a shower by myself. It was strange to be alone for a 
few seconds. Ever since we had left Mom, someone else had 
helped me in the bath room.  
	When I was finished Cheryl helped me to dry off and 
then sent me back to my room where Terry would diaper me for 
the day. The early morning air felt cool on my bottom and my 
room was even colder because Terry had opened the window to 
air the room out.  
	She was dressed and smiling as I scrambled onto my bed 
and put my bottom on the waiting diaper. She dusted me with 
powder and then taped the Pampers snugly. I immediately had 
that warm dry rush of comfort feeling and I must have 
giggled as she began to fit a pair of royal blue plastic 
pants over my ankles.  
	"My goodness," she exclaimed, "is it possible you've 
come to like your diapers."  
	I felt my cheeks get hot. "Sometimes its nice." I 
murmured but deep inside I knew she was right.  
	I had to wear a diaper shirt but I didn't really mind. 
I knew that with it on I couldn't get into trouble by 
putting my hands inside my plastic pants or diaper. Terry 
gave me a pair of loose shorts that hid most of my diaper 
bulges.  
	I was left to put my shoes and socks on and then Terry 
asked me to finish unloading Cheryl's van before the trip 
back to Kingston.  
	During that time Cheryl finished dressing. The next 
time I saw her she was wearing a trim business suit and high 
heels. Her perfume made my head spin and I knew I had a 
crush on her. When she asked if I would like to ride up 
front with her I blushed.  
	On the way into town I kept staring at Cheryl - her 
pretty face, full bosom and long slender legs. I'm sure she 
knew what was happening because she kept looking at me and 
smiling.  
	Just as we got to the outskirts of town I felt a small 
burst of pee arrive in my diaper. I must have gasped because 
both women asked me if I had just wet. Again I blushed and 
nodded but they just congratulated me and said I shouldn't 
try to hold my pee while in diaper therapy.  
	When we got to the university Cheryl took me inside 
while Terry took the van to do some grocery shopping. We 
went to her office where we sat on the couch and she asked 
me a lot of questions and we played some silly games that 
she called "exercises". After about an hour she said she had 
some work to do but that there were lots of kids here that I 
could play with while we waited for Terry to come back.  
	After I agreed she stood up and told me to slip off my 
shorts, socks and shoes. Then she released the buttons on my 
diaper shirt and took that off too. I was standing in front 
of her wearing nothing but a diaper and plastic pants. It 
felt very strange indeed.  
	She went to a closet and took out a piece of leather in 
the shape of a T. As she came toward me she explained that 
there were special rules for the play area. "You're pretty 
big and some of the girls are as big as you. We've found it 
makes sense if big babies like you have their diapers locked 
on so there's no risk of hanky-panky."  
	I gulped. "So?...."  
	"So we ask you to wear this retainer belt while you're 
in the play area."  
	I was nervous and suspicious. This sounded like a 
punishment but I was being asked to wear it. "How does it 
work?"  
	She held the cross bar of the T in her hands and let 
the stem drop toward the floor. "This part goes around your 
waist..." she pointed to the long stem of the T, "and this 
part runs between your legs. Want to try it?"  
	In truth I really wanted no part of it but standing 
there with her so pretty and me reduced to my diapers and 
plastic panty I didn't feel like I had a lot to say about it 
so I just nodded.  
	At her request I turned my back to her. She brought the 
belt into position around my waist with the crotch strap 
running downward from the front. I felt her tighten the 
waist portion then she pulled the long piece into place and 
I felt its pressure between my legs. Tighter and tighter it 
got but just before I was about to complain I heard the 
click of a pad lock and I felt her step away. "There, now. 
All done. The play area is down the hall to the left. 
There's a big sign."  
	Suddenly I was being escorted to the door. "Don't worry 
about time. I'll come for you." Then I was out in the hall, 
the hard polished floor cold on my feet compared to the 
carpet in Cheryl's office. I looked down at, but dared not 
touch, the wide black leather strapping that ran around my 
waist and between my legs. It was tight enough that I could 
feel it but not uncomfortable.  
	I looked down the corridor and saw a sign that said 
"Atrium - Observation Area" beside a big glass door. There 
was no one else in sight and so I walked slowly down the 
shiny hall way, half hoping and half dreading that I would 
meet someone else.  
	I peered into the play area but there was a row of 
hedges planted need the doors to stop the view from where I 
was standing. With the hall still empty and me feeling very 
exposed I decided to go through the door - it was a fire 
door crash bar type.  
	I was so nervous and scared that I was trembling as I 
moved past the screen of trees and got my first view of the 
play area.  
	There were about 10 kids in what was basically an 
indoor park. The five smallest ones, aged 6 to 8 were 
playing in a sand box. Two pre-pubescent girls were playing 
catch with a ball. Two early teen guys were playing 
badminton and a girl closer to my age was reading a magazine 
under a tree. They were all dressed exactly the way I was 
and all, like me, were bare foot. The girls all wore a tight 
fitting vest-like thing over their breasts that seemed to be 
made of the same elasticized material as tube tops. It hid 
all of the bosom and was obviously intended to stop 
wandering fingers too.  
	One by one I made eye contact with everyone. Only the 
oldest girl, the one reading under the tree even smiled. 
Feeling very self conscious I decided to walk toward her. 
The closer I got the more attractive she seemed. I also 
found myself staring at her semi-transparent plastic panties 
and the bulging Pampers diaper clearly visible beneath them.   
	She followed my gaze and smirked. "What are you staring 
at? They've got you all decked out the same way."  
	"Uh, sorry. I'm not used to meeting anyone....."  
	"Since they put you back into diapers?", she laughed 
cynically, "I guess not. Don't sweat it. You'll get used to 
it."  
	I sat down beside her, more to unlock my eyes from her 
diaper than anything else. I introduced myself.  
	"Lisa. Inmate number 458923," she sneered.  
	I was confused. "Inmate?"  
	She looked at me as if I was slow on the uptake, "Naw, 
I was kidding. Folks sent me here after I got busted for 
DWI. It was this or reform school." She patted the wide 
strip of leather that cleaved a path between her legs. 
"Maybe reform school would have been better."  
	Lisa told me she had been at the "place" for about a 
month. Her diaper therapy had been like mine - getting into 
trouble, really bad punishments and eventually not fighting 
it anymore.