Danny's Tricks

Summary: High school student Danny resorts to a series of tricks to 
achieve his goal – wearing diapers – but in the end the joke may be on 
him.

Danny's Tricks
By [email protected]

I'm not sure why, and it sounds, like, really weird, but I've always 
been fascinated with pee and poop. Like, I'm a freshman at a big city 
school – one that was built back in the 30's. You know the kind where 
the marble stair treads have grooves worn in them from the hundreds of 
thousands of feet that have stepped on them over the years? Anyway, 
there are four floors plus the basement which houses the gymnasiums and 
pool and each floor has one large Boy's Room and one large Girl's Room 
on it. Each Boy's Room (I'm guessing the Girl's Rooms are the same 
except for the urinals but I've never checked them out) has a row of 
urinals against one wall, a row of sinks against a second wall, and a 
row of stalls on the third wall. The stalls are made of marble and used 
to have doors on them except they took them off years ago when they 
found kids smoking and doing weird shit in them. The fourth wall has 
windows at the top and a row of radiators along the bottom to heat the 
room in the winter. These aren't the kind of big iron upright radiators 
but the kind that mount down near the floor and have a steam pipe 
running through them with fins on it. So some of the boys, to show 
their opinion of the school, or the teachers, or whatever, will pee on 
the radiator instead of in the urinals – I've done it a couple of times 
myself. What this means is that when you approach the Boy's Room from 
the hallway you start to get this smell of urine. And when you walk in 
the door the smell really hits you hard – especially in the winter. 
Most of the guys walk in, and their eyes start to run and they do their 
"business" as fast as they can and rush out into the hallway to escape 
the odor. Except me – I like it – and I take my time in the Boy's Room 
to enjoy the smell.

Let me give you another example. When we go to visit my relatives in 
Indiana, we drive along a road where the state put up "Rest Areas" 
every thirty miles or so. Except that you don't go there to rest, you 
stop there to take a dump. Indiana being Indiana, they didn't build 
regular bathrooms, they build old-fashioned outhouses. They're about 
thirty feet square and there's a trough to piss in along one wall, and 
two other walls have a row of stalls – except in these stalls the waste 
just drops through a hole into a holding pit beneath the outhouse. At 
least there's a regular toilet seat over the hole. And when you step up 
to the seat, you can look down into the hole and look at the mass of 
shit and turds and toilet paper and piss that's down there – at least 
you can if you want to. The outhouses have a roof and four walls – 
except that the walls start a foot above the ground and end a foot 
below the roof. I've figured out that this is so there's always air 
circulating and that keeps the odor down. So one time we were going to 
my grandmother's at Christmas and I needed to take a dump so I asked 
Dad to stop at one of the Rest Areas. As I got out of the car I noticed 
that the open areas at the top and bottom of the walls had been covered 
with plastic sheeting – probably to keep out the snow. Anyway, when I 
walked in the smell hit me – with no air circulation the odor had built 
up to something I could never have imagined. It was worse than the 
urine smell at school – it included ammonia, and rotting crap, and 
other smells I couldn't describe. I just stood there for a minute or 
so, breathing in the beautiful odor. Finally I remembered what I had 
come there to do and got rid of my load – taking my time. When I got 
back in the car everybody started gasping, and their eyes were 
watering, and they rolled down all the windows even though it was 
pretty cold outside. I realized that the odor had permeated my clothing 
and that I smelled as bad as the outhouse. After awhile the odor in the 
car dissipated but for weeks afterward I could bury my face in my 
winter jacket and take a deep breath, and smell the outhouse smell – 
neat!

Oh well, so much for background.

A week or so ago when I was up in my room one evening doing homework 
for school the next day, I found myself daydreaming about what it would 
be like to wet my pants. Now I don't mean that I was thinking of a 
"gusher" or anything – but maybe just a little dampness. "Well, why not 
find out", I thought to myself. So I leaned back in my chair and just 
barely relaxed by bladder muscles. And nothing happened. So I 
completely relaxed my bladder and still nothing happened. "This isn't 
the way it's supposed to work", I thought. So then I really tried to 
push it out and after awhile I could feel a couple of drops escape into 
my underwear, and then a couple more, and then a small stream started 
and began to flow more rapidly. "Whoops", I thought, "That's enough", 
and I clamped down and stopped the flow. I looked down at my crotch and 
there was a small wet area that slowly got larger till it was about the 
size of my hand. I could feel the warm wetness in my underwear as the 
fabric clung to my body. As I bent down, I could smell a faint aroma of 
warm urine arising from my jeans. Wow! This was so neat! After about 
five minutes the warmth turned to coldness which wasn't as comfortable 
and I decided that I'd get dressed for bed. I stripped off my jeans and 
laid them on my bed so that they would dry out before Mom saw them. I 
looked down and saw a faint yellow stain on my briefs where the pee had 
soaked in. I took my briefs off but hid them in the corner of my 
closet. The following night I retrieved the briefs, put them back on 
and repeated the process of releasing a little urine into them. It felt 
so good that I continued to do this for several nights and after about 
a week, the yellow stain on my briefs was much darker and they had the 
not unpleasant scent, kind of musty like, of dried urine. When I wet 
them now the smell that arose from my crotch was much stronger. And 
when I went to bed that night, I stuffed the dirty briefs into my 
pillowcase a drifted off to sleep with the scent of piss coming from my 
pillow.

Gee, that experiment in my room worked so well that I wondered whether 
I could do the same thing in the rest of the house. So for the next 
couple of weeks when I was in the family room watching TV, or having 
supper with my folks, I'd let just enough pee leak out into my briefs 
that they were constantly damp. You couldn't really see anything on my 
jeans and unless you got really close to me you wouldn't notice any 
odor.

Emboldened by my experiment at home, I tried it out at school the 
following week. Spanish was always a boring class so when Ms. Sanchez 
was babbling on about something, I slouched down behind my desk at the 
beginning of the period and let just enough urine out into my pants 
that I had a small damp spot on the front of my jeans. After a day or 
so I was doing this in all my classes. I still had to go to the Boy's 
Room to use the stalls but most of my urine was going into my pants now 
so I only used the urinals infrequently – when I had been drinking a 
lot of liquid. By the time school was over for the day and I returned 
home, my underwear was stained a yellow color in the front and I 
noticed that even after it was laundered, the stain wouldn't be 
completely removed. But boys are supposed to have a few stains on our 
underwear, aren't we?

Well, the first experiment had work well, but now I was wondering what 
it would feel like if I let more than a few drops out at any time. So 
today when I came home from school, I drank a couple of glasses of 
water and then went down into the basement about an hour later. I stood 
over in the dark corner of my Dad's workshop and relaxed my bladder. 
For a few seconds nothing happened, and then a few drops escaped into 
my pants, followed by a small stream that grew into a large stream as I 
completely emptied my bladder. The crotch of my jeans was sopping wet 
and two wet streams ran down the inside of my legs, wetting the legs of 
my jeans, soaking my socks, and emptying into my sneakers. Oh God! Did 
that feel good! And I just stood there and enjoyed the feeling of the 
soaked jeans and the strong scent of warm piss that arose from my 
pants. As I walked around, my pants flapped wetly against my legs and 
my sneakers made squishing noises. I was in heaven. But after about 
five minutes of this enjoyment, reality set in – there was no way that 
I could hide this from my folks so I took off my clothes, threw them in 
the washer and set it on a quick cycle. I took my shoes, dried them as 
much as I could with paper towels, went upstairs and dressed in dry 
clothes, and set my shoes out in the sun to dry. By the time my folks 
came home an hour later, no evidence remained of my experiment. As I 
drifted off to sleep that night, I remembered the wonderful sensation 
of dumping a full bladder into my pants and how good it felt. But could 
I do that every day without risking getting caught?

A week or so later I had an idea. One of my Mom's friends had come over 
for coffee and talk after church. She brought her two-year-old son with 
her and he was sitting on the kitchen floor and playing with some of my 
old toys that my mother had brought out. As I came into the kitchen to 
get a drink, the boy's mother was checking his diaper to see whether he 
needed to be changed and I guess it must have been pretty wet because 
she asked Mom if it was OK if she changed him right there on the 
kitchen floor. Mom said sure, no problem and shortly thereafter the 
little boy was lying on his back on the floor, his wet diaper had been 
stripped off and a dry one put in its place. He hadn't pooped in the 
diaper so the whole process only took a minute or so. I kept puttering 
around in the kitchen so that I could watch everything. And after Mom 
and her friend went out to sit in the sun, I took the dirty diaper out 
of the trash and examined it. I also had the beginning of an idea so I 
swiped one of the extra diapers Mom's friend carried in her diaper bag 
and hid it in the closet in my room. That night before I went to bed I 
got the diaper out and tried to imagine what it would feel like to wear 
a diaper. The one I had swiped was way too small for me but I held it 
up against my body and felt how soft it was. I wondered whether there 
was some way that I could wear a diaper occasionally without my Mom 
finding out or better, whether I could get Mom to let me wear a diaper.

I puzzled over that for a while and while it seemed kind of risky, I 
wondered whether I could make my Mom think that I was wetting the bed 
at night. If I could, she'd either have to put up with changing the 
bedding frequently, or maybe she'd think of having me wear a diaper to 
bed at night. Of course there was always the chance that she'd get 
really pissed (no pun intended) and give me hell. But maybe that was a 
risk I had to take.

Now I could just have pissed in my bed, but I wanted to see if I could 
have a real "accident." So the next day before I went to bed, I drank 
all of a one-liter bottle of Coke, and part of a second bottle. I 
figured that filling my bladder in the middle of the night would cause 
an accident if anything would. But I had forgotten that Coke has 
caffeine in it and I was so "wired" that I couldn't get to sleep. I 
tossed and turned all night and even though the pressure built up in my 
bladder I couldn't have an accident while I was awake. When I got up 
the next morning I was really tired and in a really pissy mood (pun 
intended). When Mom asked me what I wanted for breakfast, I told her to 
"….. go to hell ….." or something like that and got grounded for a 
week. So much for the first experiment.

The funny thing was that I did have an accident a week later and it was 
a real accident – totally unexpected. I'm a member of a hiking club at 
school and that Saturday we were going to go on a twenty mile hike out 
into the countryside and up a couple of hills. It was an all day hike, 
starting at 8am and finishing up probably around 6pm or so depending 
upon how fast a pace we set. It was a beautiful day but very warm, and 
by noontime I'd used up the bottle of water I had brought along. The 
other guys were in the same shape and we grew increasingly thirsty as 
the afternoon wore on. When the hike was finally over a little after 
six, my legs ached, I was hot and tired, and my mouth and throat were 
so dry they were sore. When I got home I just went right to the sink 
and drank six large glasses of water. Then I took a long hot shower and 
after that drank another four or five glasses of water. I was so full 
of water that I swear you could see my stomach bulging out a little and 
I gurgled when I walked. Anyway, I dragged myself to bed, got in and 
immediately fell into a deep sleep. I think I remember dreaming about 
the hike and stopping to swim in a river and finding the river water 
nice and warm – or something. But when I awakened the next morning I 
was cold and very wet – I had had an accident during my sleep. I didn't 
say anything to my folks, but just got dressed and acted like nothing 
had happened. When I went to bed that night, I found that the sheets on 
my bed had been changed.

So I wouldn't say that I could make myself have an accident whenever I 
wanted to, but I found that if I was really tired and had drunk a lot 
of water just before I went to bed that I would likely wake up to a 
cold and wet bed the following morning. This was great! So during the 
week I'd go on lots of hikes and I joined the cross-country team, I 
also got a job mowing several lawns in our neighborhood so I was always 
pretty well pooped out when I went to bed. On the weekends I'd stay up 
late and watch TV till 2 or 3 am before going to bed. Within about two 
weeks I had worked up to the point where I was wetting the bed four or 
five nights a week. My folks didn't say anything to me but I noticed 
after a week of this that my bed had a rubber sheet on it. Finally 
after another couple of weeks my Mom told me that she had scheduled me 
for a regular checkup with the doctor – yeah, "regular checkup", sure. 
During the exam he asked me if I had any issues to talk about and I 
knew that my Mom had primed him so I squirmed around a little and 
admitted that I might have wet the bed once or twice. He acted like it 
was no big deal and continued the exam. As I was getting dressed at the 
end of the exam, he just noted that I seemed to be in excellent health 
and that I might just want to cut down on the amount of liquid that I 
drank before going to bed. Yeah, sure doc.

A couple of weeks after that, Mom had this mother-son chat with me and 
told me that she and Dad loved me, and that it wasn't unusual for boys 
to wet the bed occasionally but that it would be easier for her if I 
didn't wear pajamas to bed any more – less for her to clean up. I 
agreed and began sleeping in the nude. I also found that it was easier 
for me to wet the bed at night now. Like, I didn't have to be as tired 
when I went to bed or drink as much water. I could have an accident 
every night without really trying that hard. But I liked the feeling of 
the wet sheets when I woke up so I kept drinking large quantities of 
water every evening, in fact I was kind of having a contest with myself 
to see how wet I could make the sheets. Well, even though my bedding 
was getting changed every day, my room was beginning to develop this 
urine odor – not as bad as the Boy's Room at school but you could 
notice it. My Mom started keeping my room aired out by opening the 
windows during the day. Finally she got tired of all the extra work and 
told me, in a nice way, that I was now responsible for changing my 
bedding whenever it was wet. I guess she was thinking that the added 
work might give me an incentive to control myself during sleep.

What she didn't realize was that this was what I had been hoping for! 
Now that I controlled my bedding I could change it whenever I wanted – 
or NOT change it whenever I wanted. Soon I was letting my bed go four 
or five days between changes. And then I took off the rubber sheet so 
that I could soak the mattress as well. Soon my room began to smell 
really bad and Mom told me to keep the door closed all the time so that 
I wouldn't "….. stink up the house." I think the breaking point came a 
couple of weeks after that when my folks had some friends over for 
dinner. As they walked in the door the lady kind of wrinkled up her 
nose and asked how many cats we had in the house. Mom responded that we 
didn't have any pets, and the lady apologized and stammered something 
about smelling a litter box. Anyway, when I got home from school the 
following day there was a box "Select Disposable Pull-Ons" on my bed. 
YES!

Mom came into my room a minute or so later and saw me staring at the 
box of diapers. She gently explained that while my "problem" was likely 
only temporary, that she thought it better if I wear diapers at night 
just until my problem went away. I argued with her – fourteen year old 
boys don't wear diapers, Mom – and stuff like that. I tried to walk the 
fine line between convincing her that I didn't want to wear diapers and 
changing her mind about the need to wear them but I guess I was 
convincing as she wouldn't back down. So there I was, ordered by my 
parents to wear diapers at night!

A soon as Mom left the room I eagerly opened the box, took out one of 
the diapers and held it up against my body. It looked as though she had 
gotten the right waist size but I was a bit disappointed that the 
diaper did not come up very high on my waist. And since it was the 
pull-on style it didn't have the adhesive straps to close it that I had 
assumed all diapers had. But I couldn't complain – I had gotten Mom to 
admit that I needed to wear diapers now. So I stripped off my jeans and 
briefs and pulled the diaper up on my body. Wow did it feel great – 
warm and soft and tightly fitting. I just walked around my room for 
several minutes, admiring how the diaper looked on my body and how it 
felt as I moved. Eventually, I pulled my jeans back on. They were a 
little tight but they did fit over the diaper and once they were on, 
you couldn't really tell that I was wearing a diaper. With the extra 
padding the diaper provided between my legs it was pretty tight but I 
found that when I sit down if I spread my legs apart a little instead 
of keeping them pressed together that it's more comfortable. As I sat 
in my room I was getting turned on by my first experience in wearing a 
diaper and pretty soon I had this big erection. I moved my hands to my 
crotch and began massaging my cock and stroking it through my diaper 
and soon came and shot my wad into the diaper. The slight dampness felt 
great and I was looking forward filling my diaper with even more 
liquid. As I went down stairs and walked past my Mom to go outside I 
thought: "Bet you don't know what I just did." Later that night, when I 
went up to my room to go to bed, Mom gently reminded me to: "….. 
remember what I told you this afternoon." I didn't tell her that I had 
been wearing a diaper for the past six hours!

I didn't drink as much water before I went to bed that night. I wasn't 
sure how much liquid the diaper could hold and I didn't want to push 
things too fast. As I lay in bed before drifting off to sleep that 
night I gently rubbed my diaper, enjoying its feel against my body and 
under my hands. Upon waking the next morning, I first thought: "Guess I 
should have drunk more water last night. Doesn't feel like I peed 
myself during the night." But then I moved around a little and I could 
feel the damp liner of the diaper against my skin. YES I HAD! I'd wet 
my diaper for the first time, well at least the first time in the past 
twelve years, anyway. I hated to take it off but Mom started yelling up 
the stairs that if I didn't get a move-on that I'd miss the bus, so I 
reluctantly removed the diaper, showered, dressed and went down for 
breakfast. When she looked at me and asked me if things went OK last 
night, I just scowled at her as if I was mad.

All that school day, I eagerly looked forward to returning home and 
once through the front door, ran up to my room, shucked off my jeans 
and briefs, pulled on a dry diaper and put my jeans back on. I then 
leisurely sauntered down to the kitchen and drank three large glasses 
of water. In about an hour nature took its course and I felt the 
pressure begin to build up in my bladder. I waited almost another hour 
before the pressure became too great to stand and then released the 
contents of my bladder into my diaper all at once. What a great feeling 
as the warm liquid filled my crotch. At supper that night my father 
asked the usual question of what was "new." I was half thinking of 
telling him that I'd just pissed myself but thought better of it. I 
wore the same diaper to bed that night and by the morning it was 
totally saturated and sagged down between my legs. As I walked to the 
bathroom to shower, its soggy mass squished between my legs.

About three weeks after that, I didn't put on a diaper when I came home 
from school. After supper I drank several cans of 7-Up and then went 
into the family room to watch TV with my folks. Soon I could feel the 
pressure building up in my bladder. I just relaxed and soon warm liquid 
was flowing into my pants. Since I was sitting down, most of the liquid 
ran down between my legs, saturated the seat of my jeans, and began 
soaking onto the cushion of the chair I was sitting in. After about 
another hour, when I figured that I'd done about as much damage to the 
furniture as I could, I nonchalantly got up, asked my folks if I could 
bring them anything from the kitchen, and walked past them – giving 
them a good look at my urine soaked jeans. My mother gasped and then 
when she looked over at the chair I had been sitting in said: "Oh 
Danny, what have you done? I just had that chair reupholstered and I 
don't know whether the stain will come out." "Oh gosh Mom", I replied, 
"I don't know how that happened. I didn't even realize that I'd wet 
myself. Maybe I'd better to up to my room and put on a diaper." "Yes 
young man, you'd better do just that", my father yelled at me. So from 
that point on, whenever I'm at home I wear a diaper – as ordered by my 
folks!

I used the same technique at school and after several "accidents", the 
school nurse called my Mother to discuss the situation. Mom told the 
nurse how I've temporarily been wearing diapers around the house and 
the nurse told her that I'd wet myself at school three times in the 
past week and that she should consider keeping me in diapers a full 
twenty four hours a day. My Mother reluctantly agreed and now I'm 
wearing diapers all the time. This was really great as now I could wear 
one diaper and wet it several times before it would become so saturated 
that it would begin to leak a little and I would have to change it for 
a dry one. But I did find that I was having more trouble controlling 
myself. Way back when, I had to really force myself to pee my pants, 
and when I first started wearing diapers I had to consciously release 
the urine into my diapers. But nowadays it just sort of happens and 
often I don't even realize that I've wet myself till I feel the wetness 
in my diapers. If I really concentrate I can hold back the pee, but 
since I'm wearing diapers all the time now I don't see why I should 
worry about whether I can control myself or not.

Mom was out driving around doing errands today and I was just going 
along for the ride. She looked over at me and commented that my hair 
was getting pretty shaggy and we should probably make the Barber Shop 
one of our stops. I hadn't paid much attention to my hair but I reached 
up and felt it and agreed that she was probably right. Now my hair is 
naturally very curly and I had these thick curls that reached down 
almost to my shoulders. But then I started thinking about the Barber 
Shop and didn't really like the idea of sitting in the chair and having 
the barber cut my hair so I started fussing about it and after awhile 
Mom said: "Oh Danny, quit acting like such a baby. If you're going to 
make that much of a fuss we'll just skip the haircut."

Mom called the doctor and asked if he could write a note to get me 
excused from gym class so the other boys wouldn't have to see me 
getting dressed and undressed in my diaper. But his response was that 
while I do have a medical problem, "incontinence" he called it, but 
that it shouldn't interfere with my everyday activities. Some of the 
guys have kidded me but most of them act like it's no big deal. So when 
I go to gym class, I'll keep my diaper on till the activity is over, 
and then pull it off before we take showers. After the shower, back in 
the locker room I'll just apply a little Baby Oil to my crotch and then 
squirt some talcum powder into my diaper before I pull it on. Doesn't 
take all that much time. No big deal.

Well, it wasn't a big deal except for today when I had an accident. I 
was sitting on the bench in front of my locker and had just reached 
inside for a fresh diaper when I heard this dripping noise. I looked 
down and saw that my bladder had chosen that moment to empty itself and 
I was pissing on the floor. As I looked down in horror a large yellow 
puddle formed beneath me – I tried "clamping down" to stop the flow of 
urine but it didn't work – I had no control over my bladder anymore. Oh 
God, did the guys kid me about that and by the end of the school day it 
was all over school that the diaper kid had pissed himself in gym 
today.

Since I've been wearing my diapers as long as I can, I've been having 
some problems with leaking – especially at night when I'm asleep. Now 
it wasn't as bad as when I was peeing the bed and mattress every night, 
but the bedclothes have gotten pretty stained and there is a urine 
smell in my bedroom again. I guess Mom noticed it because when I used 
up the last of the pull-ons, I found that she had replaced them with 
something called a "Tranquility ATN (All-Through-the-Night) Fitted 
Brief." And along with the diapers there was a box of "Tranquility 
TopLiner Contours." Mom explained that the new diapers were much more 
absorbent, and that the "Contours" were pads that went into the bottom 
of the diapers to absorb even more liquid. When I opened the box of 
Briefs and took one out I could see a couple of other differences – 
they were much taller than the pull-ons for one thing. The pull-ons 
were like Jockey briefs, only much more absorbent, and they rose only 
as high as an inch or so below my navel. But the new briefs must be 
about six inches higher than the old ones as they completely cover my 
stomach and come up to the bottom of my chest. The other difference is 
that the new briefs aren't the pull-on style – they're shaped like an 
hourglass or a figure-8 and I have to sit on them, pull up the front 
and back panels, and then fasten them with two adhesive tapes on each 
side.

Well, the first time I tried one of the new briefs on it sure felt 
different – like it was much thicker than the old briefs and it came 
way up and over my stomach. And after I'd struggled with how to adjust 
its fit with the adhesive tabs I remembered that I'd forgotten to put 
the Contour pad in the bottom so I had it take it off again -luckily 
you can reuse the tabs once or twice. So I got the Contour pad in the 
bottom and put the brief back on and got it adjusted. Wow did it look 
different on me! With the added thickness of the diaper and then the 
added pad in the bottom, the diaper now comes halfway down to my knees. 
And there's so much material between my legs now that I can't walk as I 
used to – I have to spread my legs apart now. Now I'm not saying that 
it was bad or uncomfortable or anything, but it sure did feel different 
and my body was now enclosed by my diaper from the bottom of my chest 
to halfway down to my knees. With all that added bulk, there was no way 
that any of my jeans would fit me. But at least it was Friday night and 
I didn't have anything planned for the rest of the weekend so for 
Friday night and Saturday, and most of Sunday till Mom could get me 
some new pants, I just wore my diapers around the house. Even though at 
first it felt kinda strange to be walking around in just my diapers in 
front of my parents, by Sunday it didn't bother me at all.

When Mom gave me my new jeans on Sunday, I realized why it had taken 
her so long to get them – she had to shop around to find the right size 
of, get this, MATERNITY JEANS! There was so much bulk around my waist 
now that she had to get the kind of maternity jeans that have the 
expandable panels in them to be able to contain the diaper and yet fit 
well on the rest of my body. Well, I wasn't too cool with wearing these 
kind of jeans to school but she had also bought me some shirts that 
were longer and when I put one on and left it hanging outside my jeans 
it pretty much covered everything up. So if you looked at me now, I've 
got a kind of pear shape – but that's a small price to pay – I've been 
wearing that first pair of the new diapers for two days now and they 
haven't leaked yet. Well, I've got to admit that with all the liquid in 
them that they've sagged down almost to my knees and they make this 
squishing noise when I walk – but I love that. I eventually found that 
I could usually wear the diapers for about three days before leakage 
became a problem, but after three days, did they stink when I took them 
off - Phew! After about a week of this I found another problem, I had 
developed diaper rash. So when I do change my diaper now, I have to be 
very careful to wash off my crotch and dick and balls and completely 
dry them. Then I have to rub lotion into the skin to reduce the redness 
and irritation. After that I have to cover the area with Vaseline or 
Baby Oil and finally, I have to apply a liberal coating of talcum 
powder. Instead of just pulling on a clean pair of briefs, the whole 
process now takes about five to ten minutes depending upon how bad the 
rash is. The first time I had to change my diaper in gym class, I sure 
got a lot of stares from the guys as I prepared myself for the clean 
diaper. And then I found that I'd run out of time and was late to my 
next class – that was embarrassing.

Whooffff, that Mexican food did me in last night. My Dad has a younger 
brother, Marty, who had never gotten married. Well, Marty finally 
decided to tie the knot so there was a big family dinner last night to 
celebrate the upcoming wedding. Dad let Marty choose the restaurant and 
Marty picked a Mexican restaurant way the hell over on the other side 
of town. So after Mom and Dad got out of work we piled in the car and 
fought rush hour traffic to get to the restaurant. As Marty was the 
guest of honor he got to order his favorite foods. Well, let me tell 
you that Marty doesn't like any entrιe that's not at least glowing red 
hot. So he orders all this stuff and we started to chow down. But about 
halfway through dinner I'm like, my mouth is burning and all the water 
I'm drinking isn't helping. And then later on my stomach started 
sending me signals that it might be a good idea if I didn't eat any 
more. By the time the dinner was over I'm sitting there and my gut is 
acting like a washing machine with all the churning and gurgling going 
on. As we got in the car for the ride home I felt a little cramping but 
I figured that it was just some gas or something. But as we pulled out 
onto the freeway the cramps got worse and I got the impression that 
some serious action was going to take place pretty soon. I was getting 
ready to ask my Dad to get off the freeway and find a gas station or 
something where I could make an emergency trip to the restroom, but 
then I figured that he probably couldn't find a place in time and, what 
the hell, I was wearing my industrial strength diapers anyway – so not 
to worry. Anyway, about ten minutes after that it happened. I felt one 
huge cramp and then this stuff started flowing out into my diaper. It 
was like the Niagara Falls of shit. I didn't know what else to do so I 
leaned back and pretended that nothing was happening as this warm and 
sticky mixture filled my diaper and flowed around to cover my balls and 
dick. After the "eruption" stopped, I just sat back and tried to figure 
out what had just happened. Well, I knew what had happened, I had 
crapped my pants, but I liked the sensation. If filling my diaper with 
pee felt good, filling it with crap felt even better. So I just sat in 
the back seat of the car and gently pressed on the bulging front of my 
jeans and felt the shit squishing around my crotch. When we got home 
that night I went directly to bed and lay there and enjoyed the warm 
and sticky feeling of my full diaper.

In the morning, of course, I had a real mess to clean up. Not only did 
I have to spend more time cleaning myself off, but I had a diaper that 
was dripping this foul brown crap that I had to dispose of, and worse, 
it had leaked in my bed during the night so I had to change the 
bedclothes before I went to school. But after all of the hassles, I 
found myself asking the question: "Was it worth it?" and the answer was 
YES!

It was about a week after than when I had another accident. I had been 
really rushed when I got ready for school that Friday and I think that 
I might have gotten a little Baby Oil on the outside of my diaper as 
the adhesive tabs on the sides weren't sticking too well. But once I 
got my jeans on everything seemed OK and in fact I made it through the 
day with no problems. And around the house on Saturday I was OK 
although I did have to refasten the tabs a couple of times. When Mom 
woke me up to go to church on Sunday my diaper was really full of pee 
and sagging down to my knees but I didn't want to take the time to 
change it so I just pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a clean white 
shirt and went down and got in the car with her. Oh. By the way, church 
is one of the things that Mom insists on every week. Like, Dad always 
has an excuse, like he doesn't feel good, or he needs to work on the 
car or the lawn or something, but I always get dragged to church. So 
anyway we got to the church and went into the Sanctuary and we were 
partway through the first hymn when I kind of felt a couple of "pops" 
down in my jeans and realized that the adhesive tabs on one side of my 
diaper had let loose. Some liquid soon began seeping out of my diaper 
and a wet stain appeared on the front of my jeans and started to 
spread. I reached over and touched Mom's arm and when I had her 
attention, I pointed to my jeans and said: "Wet." She grabbed my arm 
and we got up out of the pew and headed for the exit. By that time my 
diaper had really let loose, my jeans were saturated, liquid was 
running down my legs, and I was leaving a trail of little pools of 
urine on the floor behind me. I could feel everyone in the congregation 
staring at me.

We made it to the car in the parking lot, got inside, Mom started the 
engine and we headed home. I could see that she was really upset and 
she said: "Oh Danny, why did you have to do that? Why can't you be more 
careful?" I felt so bad that I started to cry a little. All of a sudden 
I felt something happening in my diaper and heard this wet farting and 
bubbling noise and realized that in addition to everything else, I was 
now having a bowel movement. "Oopsie", I said. Mom didn't say anything 
but just looked at me and shook her head. I cried harder.

When we got home she took me up to my room and had me lie down on my 
bed. She helped me take off my shirt, my filthy jeans and the saturated 
diaper. As I lay there naked, she got the wet wipes, Baby Oil, talcum 
powder and a clean diaper. She came over and sat on the bed next to me 
and began to clean me off. It felt really strange to have my Mom 
cleaning me off and wiping my dick and balls and pretty soon I got this 
big erection. "Well", she said, "I can see that at least one of us is 
enjoying this." After she got me cleaned off and dried, she applied the 
Baby Oil, asking me to roll over on my tummy so that she could apply it 
to my bottom. The Baby Oil was followed by the talcum powder, which she 
rubbed in to get a complete coating. Then she had me lie on my back 
again, took one of the Contour pads and fitted it between my legs, 
tucking my balls and dick into it. This was followed by the diaper, 
which she carefully positioned under me, closed and then fastened with 
the adhesive tabs. Finally she said: "There, that should hold you for 
awhile young man", got up and left my room. I had just had my diaper 
changed - BY MY MOTHER!

Wow, I wasn't sure whether I was in big trouble or not so I kind of 
kept out of her way for the rest of the day. I just stayed in my room 
and watched TV and played some video games. By Monday morning things 
were pretty much back to normal except that Mom was checking up on me 
more often now – as if she didn't completely trust me to diaper myself. 
Like once or twice a day she would put her hand down into my diaper and 
see whether it was so saturated that it needed to be changed. And if it 
did need to be changed and we were going to be going out of the house 
shortly, she would change it herself to make sure that it was done 
properly. As time wore on she was changing my diaper more and more 
often and eventually was doing it all the time.

I was getting to hate those expandable jeans that I was wearing to 
cover up my diapers. They're a hassle to get on and I don't really like 
the way they feel on my body. So except when I leave the house I've 
stopped wearing them. I mean, why go to all the trouble of putting on a 
bunch of clothes if you don't need to. So now when I'm at home I just 
wear my diapers.

I've been having more and more poopie "accidents" these days. I found 
that I had to take off my diaper every couple of hours and then go and 
sit on the toilet to see whether I could have a bowel movement. If I 
didn't do this it would kind of creep up on me and all of a sudden I'd 
have to go REALLY BAD and I usually couldn't make it to the bathroom on 
time, and take off my diaper, and get on the toilet. One time I almost 
made it – that is I got to the bathroom and I got my diaper off but 
before I could get on the toilet it just, kinda, all came out on the 
bathroom floor. I could tell that Mom was really mad about having to 
clean up that mess. So I just quit trying to control my bowel movements 
and now I've been doing everything in my diaper. It does mean that I 
can't wear my diaper as long anymore – usually Mom will change me about 
once a day. But I do have to admit that I like the feel of having a 
bowel movement in my diaper. This morning I was walking through the 
living room and I got this urge to go poopie so I stopped, and 
concentrated and pushed really hard and squirted a large load of poop 
out into my diaper. Mom saw the look of concentration on my face and 
guessed what had happened. She asked me if I needed to be changed right 
then or whether I could go a little longer. "Longer", I answered.

I got kicked out of school last week. I had been having too many 
"accidents", which by itself wouldn't have been too bad, except that 
since Mom's been taking of my diapers at home, I had some problems 
taking care of myself at school. Like, after gym class I'd forget to 
put on a diaper and then later that day I'd pee and sometimes poop in 
my pants. Or I wouldn't get the diaper on right and when I had a bowel 
movement it would leak out into my pants. It got to the point where 
this was happening three or four times a week. Now it didn't bother me 
all that much – I mean, it doesn't feel much different to soil your 
pants than to soil your diaper – but the teachers got pretty upset 
about it. Mom tried to get the school nurse to take care of me but I 
guess that's not in her job description or something. So anyway, one of 
the counselors talked to Mom and Dad and told them that I couldn't 
attend school any more until some of my "development issues" were 
resolved. If the truth be told, it doesn't bother me at all. It's a lot 
more fun to just hang around the house and watch TV and play with my 
toys.

Guess that since I'm not getting out of the house much these days, 
except maybe when Mom takes me for a ride in the car, I'm not getting 
as much exercise as I used to. That's probably why I've put on a little 
weight recently. Now don't get me wrong, I haven't gotten fat or 
anything, but my body looks a little "softer" and I'm kinda chubby. My 
tummy sticks out more than it used to - I noticed that when Mom was 
giving me a bath last night. And she's had to get diapers that have a 
bigger waistline.

Mom dropped a bombshell on me on Monday – Dad had won a weekend at a 
nearby resort in an office raffle and they were going to be away from 
home this weekend – leaving on Saturday morning and returning on Sunday 
evening. So OK I thought, what's the big deal? But then she continued 
on to say that she and Dad were a little concerned about me being home 
alone for that length of time so they had arranged for a sitter to come 
and stay with me. "Sitter", that word brought back memories of the 
sitters I remembered from years ago – grandmother types who wore lots 
of perfume, and had hairs growing from their chin, and who were super 
strict. Mom continued: "I think you may know her from school. Her name 
is Kathy Stevens." Kathy Stevens, holy shit! Kathy was one of the 
hottest girls in the senior class and she was going to stay with me for 
the weekend? "You don't have to worry", Mom said, "I explained your, 
….. umm ….. 'problem' to her and it doesn't bother her at all."

So that Saturday, Mom and Dad were all packed and ready to leave at 9am 
when the doorbell rang. Mom opened the door and Kathy came in - Kathy's 
about 5' 8", well built (if you know what I mean), with long blonde 
hair and beautiful blue eyes. When she walked in the front door 
carrying some books and a tote bag and saw me standing there in my 
diaper, she didn't stare or anything – just smiled and said, "Hi 
Danny." I guess the fact that I wasn't at all happy about having a 
seventeen year old girl take care of me while Mom and Dad were gone 
showed as I was pouting and scowling. Kathy saw the look on my face and 
said: "Aw, come on Danny, it won't be that bad. I promise that I won't 
beat you up too badly." That was pretty funny and I giggled a little 
and quit scowling. So Mom took about fifteen minutes to show her around 
the house and explain the routine to her and then they took off, 
leaving me alone with Kathy. "Well Danny, your Mom told me that you 
like to watch cartoons on TV in the morning so don't let me stop you, 
I've got some homework to catch up on", and with that she went into the 
kitchen and spread out her books on the table. What could I do at that 
point but plop myself down on the floor in front of the TV and watch 
cartoons. For the rest of the day Kathy and I pretty much kept to 
ourselves. I spent some time in my room with my coloring books, and 
played in the back yard with my toys a little. I guess Mom and told her 
what I like to eat as she fixed me a PB and J sandwich for lunch and 
macaroni and cheese for supper.

About eight o'clock she came up to my room, stuck her head in the door 
and announced: "OK mister, it's time to get you ready for bed." I just 
stood there and she said: "Come on Danny, up on your bed, let's get a 
fresh diaper on you." Like, Kathy was going to change my diaper? This 
was like, well I don't know what it was like, but it wasn't good. But I 
got up on the bed as she had ordered and lay down. She came over, 
popped off the adhesive tapes, and folded down the front of my diaper 
down to expose a very messy boy. If the embarrassment of that wasn't 
bad enough, the sight of her standing by my bed and looking down at me 
had the predictable effect and my cock started swelling up. And then to 
make things even worse I began to pee and couldn't stop the yellow 
stream that shot up in the air. Evidently Kathy had seen this before as 
she commented: "All you boys are alike", and placed her hands over my 
crotch to keep the pee from splashing on her. The feeling of her hands 
on my body got me really excited and I got really hard as she said: 
"Well, I'm glad to see that you're pleased to see me Danny", and winked 
at me and rubbed my dick a little. I couldn't stand it any more and 
shot my load into her hands. "Oh, now you've made another mess that we 
have to clean up", she said and smiled.

Oh wow, I'd just been fondled by the prettiest girl in school, and now 
she was going to change my diaper? Yes she was - as she gently cleaned 
me off and applied Baby Oil and talcum powder. The feeling of her doing 
this got me all excited again and I got another erection. This gave her 
a little trouble getting a clean diaper and Contour pad on me but she 
managed. Then she told me to jump into bed and since I been such a good 
boy, that she'd be back up with a treat for me in a few minutes. So I 
snuggled down under the covers and I could hear her working in the 
kitchen. After what seemed like ages she came back into my room and 
handed me a baby bottle. "I thought you might like a snack", she said 
as she walked to the door, turned off the light, and left the room. So 
I'm there in my bed, snuggled down under the covers and I'm holding 
this baby bottle in my hands? Well, I thought, enough other weird shit 
has happened today so I guess there's no reason not to try the bottle. 
I put the nipple in my mouth, sucked on it and got a little warm and 
slightly sweet liquid out of the bottle. It actually tasted pretty 
good. So I lay on my side, and nursed on the bottle, falling asleep 
before it was completely empty.

I awakened on Sunday morning to find Kathy standing by my bed. She 
reached down and tousled my curls and said: "How's my Danny? Ready for 
another day?", as I smiled up at her. "Why don't you get started on 
this while I work on breakfast", she said, handing me another bottle. I 
eagerly reached for it and began to nurse as she left the room. Some 
time later, I heard her calling from the kitchen and I went downstairs 
and sat at the kitchen table. She placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of 
me, picked up the spoon and proceeded to feed me. I was so surprised 
that I didn't argue with her, but meekly opened my mouth every time the 
spoon approached. After she finished feeding me breakfast, she asked me 
if I'd like another bottle while she cleaned up the kitchen and I 
nodded yes. She filled the bottle from a can marked "Carnation Good 
Start" and warmed it in a pan of water on the stove. I realized that 
the good flavored liquid was actually baby formula. And what with the 
bottles of formula and the oatmeal, I had soon filled my diaper.

"OK kiddo", Kathy said, "Let's go upstairs and get you ready for the 
day." I followed her upstairs and into the bathroom where she filled 
the tub with warm water. She took off my diaper, cleaned off the worst 
of the mess, and told me to get into the tub. As I sat down in the warm 
water it felt really nice but the warmth made me pee a little and Kathy 
shook her finger at me as she said: "Naughty Danny, we don't make pee-
pee in our bath." I just hung my head but brightened up as she gave me 
my bath – it felt so good to feel her hands moving over my body that I 
could almost have relaxed and taken a nap in the warm tub. But she 
finished the bath, toweled me off and led me back to my bedroom, 
telling me to lie down on my bed. I thought that she was going to put 
another diaper on my but instead she picked up the jar of Vaseline, 
scooped some into the palm of her right hand, and began to rub it on my 
penis. As she did so I got another big erection but she didn't stop the 
rubbing, changing to a regular stroking action. I just lay there in 
amazement, watching her give me a hand job as she smiled at me. As I 
got more and more excited, I began to arch my back and thrust with my 
hips in step with the strokes of her hand. After several minutes I was 
sweating and breathing heavily and finally I could hold it no longer 
and shot long streams of sticky white fluid onto my chest. "I thought 
that you might like a little treat", she said as she wiped off my chest 
and put a clean diaper on me.

After that I spent the rest of the day watching TV and napping on the 
sofa – covered with a soft blanket that Kathy had brought from the 
linen closet. I had another bottle at lunchtime, another in mid 
afternoon and then one at suppertime. They filled me up so much that I 
didn't want any solid food. Anyway, my folks returned just after dark 
and as Kathy was leaving, Mom asked her whether I had been a good boy. 
"Very Good", she replied and smiled as she left the house. As Kathy was 
walking away from the house, Mom remembered something and called to 
Kathy to come back. Mom explained that since this weekend had worked 
out so well that they would like to try the same arrangement next 
weekend but would Kathy mind staying with me both Friday and Saturday 
nights. "Sure, no problem. We'll have fun by ourselves", she said to 
Mom as she winked at me.

All week I was looking forward to the next weekend and when Kathy came 
up the walk on Friday afternoon I was really excited. Mom told Kathy 
that she and Dad were running a little behind schedule and would Kathy 
mind taking care of my supper. Kathy said that was no big deal and 
shooed them out the door – telling them to enjoy themselves. So Kathy 
and I had the house to ourselves for almost two full days. The only 
real difference from the first weekend was that she fed me only baby 
formula, no solid food, this time. That was fine with me because I was 
really getting to like nursing on the bottles. In fact, between my 
bottles of formula Kathy would give me a bottle of apple juice so that 
I could have something to suck on. And when I didn't have a bottle, I 
found that I could suck on my thumb and pretend that it was a bottle. 
Oh, the other thing that was different was that she insisted that she 
didn't want me to get too tired so I had to take a long nap in the 
morning and another nap in the afternoon. So my whole weekend was 
pretty much occupied with sleeping at night, or napping on the floor 
rolled up in my blanket, or lying on my blanket and nursing from a 
bottle. I guess I was a good boy as Kathy gave me a "treat" on both 
Saturday AND Sunday morning. What a great weekend!

When Mom and Dad got home Sunday evening, Kathy had a talk with Mom out 
in the kitchen. I heard her telling Mom some story about how I had an 
upset stomach Friday night and threw up. Then on Saturday morning I 
couldn't keep any solid food down so Kathy remembered that one of her 
brothers had that problem and the doctor had them feed him brother baby 
formula till his stomach settled down. So she told Mom that she had 
gotten some from the drug store and tried it on me – letting me use a 
bottle, and that I had tolerated it well. She didn't want to start me 
on solid food because I still seemed a little under the weather, kind 
of tired and napping all the time, so she kept me on formula the rest 
of the week. There was enough formula for me for three more days and a 
number of baby bottles on the kitchen counter and she said that Mom 
could decide when to switch me back to solid food. At first when she 
started telling Mom this story, Mom looked a little worried but at the 
end she commented that: "Well, as long as Danny's tolerating the baby 
formula and he enjoys the bottles I don't see any need to rush to 
switch him back to solid food. We'll just play it by ear." As Kathy was 
leaving, she came over to where I was lying on my blanket on the floor 
sucking my thumb, bent down and whispered: "Good night baby Danny." 
Then she tickled my tummy and I giggled as she left the house.

I think I gave Mom a scare several days ago – actually, I gave myself a 
scare! I was coming down the stairs from the second floor and I tripped 
and fell down the rest of the stairs. Actually it was more like rolling 
and bumping than falling but I made quite a bit of noise and then began 
to cry loudly as I lay at the bottom of the stairs. Mom rushed over to 
me and held me in her arms and after a couple of minutes I quieted down 
and stopped crying. As she helped me to my feet she could see that 
other than being shaken up I was OK so she took me out into the kitchen 
and gave me a bottle of apple juice to relax me. Since the fall, I've 
started being more careful when I walk around the house, like I'll try 
to hold on to things that are near me as I walk along to steady myself. 
And when I'm going up or down the stairs now I think it's safer if I 
crawl up or down the stairs instead of walking.

Several weeks later Kathy was babysitting me one evening. I hadn't been 
feeling well that day – Mom said I had a low-grade fever. Anyway I had 
trouble getting to sleep that night. Finally, after tossing and turning 
in my bed for several hours I began to cry. Kathy must have heard me as 
she came over to my bed, sat down, picked me up in her arms and gently 
rocked me as she said: "Hush little baby, Mommy's here", and stroked my 
curls. It did feel comforting but when she put me down after about 
thirty minutes I still couldn't get to sleep and started crying again. 
Kathy came up and looked at me for a minute and then said: "I bet baby 
would like a bottle to help him get to sleep", and I heard her go 
downstairs and into the kitchen. I heard her open several cabinet doors 
and then I heard: "Oh shit! We're out of formula. And the stores are 
closed." She came back up to my bedroom and sat on the bed, looked at 
me and said: "Let's see if this will work." She unbuttoned her sweater 
and I saw that she wasn't wearing a bra – and it would have taken a 
pretty big one to cover her large breasts. She held me in her arms and 
placed my mouth over one of her nipples. I instinctively began to nurse 
on it and I could see that she enjoyed it as well for she began to 
breathe a little faster. I lay in her arms and nursed her breast for 
what seemed like forever – I wasn't getting any liquid from her but 
being held in her arms and nursing just felt sooo good. After awhile 
she shifted me to her other breast. I think I must have fallen asleep 
shortly after that for the next thing that I remember was waking up in 
the morning with the sun shining in through my window.

After that night, whenever Kathy puts me down for my morning or 
afternoon nap she'll let me nurse on her breasts to quiet me down and 
help me to fall asleep more quickly. She's also begun to call me her 
"baby" and to refer to herself as "Mommy." When I'm with Mom instead of 
Kathy, of course I can't nurse and that makes me a lot more irritable. 
Mom solved that problem by getting me a pacifier.

I guess taking care of me – the diapering, feeding, bathing and 
everything – was taking up so much of Mom's time that she wasn't 
getting a chance to do some of the other things that she needed to do 
around the house. So Mom cut a deal with Kathy that has Kathy coming to 
the house after school every day for about four hours to give Mom some 
time off. So Kathy will show up about three in the afternoon and stay 
till seven or eight at night. By that time, Kathy will have fed me my 
supper, bathed me and gotten me ready for bed. I'll be in my bed with a 
bottle before she leaves, and if I've been a good boy that afternoon 
she'll read me a story and play with me a little. Well, I don't mean 
"play" like we're playing a game or anything – but she'll loosen the 
tabs on my diaper a little and put her hand down inside between my legs 
and fondle me for a while – that feels sooo good!

Kathy was giving me my bath last night and she took off her shirt and I 
could see her breasts. As she leaned over me in the tub they brushed my 
back and shoulders and I liked that. "Baby likes Mommy's tits, doesn't 
he", she said, "I can tell." Yeah, I guess I was getting a little "big" 
down there. Kathy reached down into the warm soapy water with her right 
hand and began to gently rub me between my legs. As I got even bigger 
she wrapped her fingers around my shaft and began to stroke me more 
firmly. After several minutes I came and squirted my cum into her soapy 
hand. "Wasn't that nice", she said, "Now you can thank Mommy by sucking 
on her titties", as she leaned over me and held up her breasts in her 
hands so that I could lick and nurse on them.

Even though I was trying to steady myself by holding on to the 
furniture, I've taken several falls lately. I usually just end up 
sitting down hard but my diaper protects me pretty well against that 
kind of fall. But the falls did scare me and I'd usually cry and either 
Kathy or Mom would come over to me and I'd hold up my arms to be picked 
up and comforted. Eventually I got to the point where I didn't even 
want to try to walk so when I want to get around now I'll just crawl.

I'm really getting to like Kathy better than Mom now. Kathy lets me 
nurse on her breasts and she plays with me more – cooing and tickling 
me – and doing things between my legs. I'm so glad that Mom has Kathy 
come to the house every day and take care of me……………………