Perfect Exit II

 

by [email protected]

 

Copyright © 2001 by Donnie_M72

 

Except for one copy for your personal use, no part of this story may be copied, transmitted, or posted either electronically or in print form anywhere without the prior written permission of its author.

 

This is a work of fiction about young people who wear diapers. If you don’t like the subject, don’t read the story.

 

This is a stand-alone story; but, if you want to know more about Jack and Darryl you should read “Perfect Exit” first.

 

 

Part 1

 

Darryl woke up feeling normal again. His flu was gone and he was anxious to be on his way. Marsha Duncan (a pediatrician) and her son Jack had taken Darryl in when he had collapsed at the service station where Jack worked. When Darryl had regained consciousness he was highly embarrassed that Jack had discovered his diapers. For his part, Jack was delighted and admitted to Darryl that he, too, adored wearing them. An instant friendship was established.

The previous night they had talked at length about themselves: their childhoods, their future plans, etc. Before retiring, Jack had disclosed to Darryl that he was also leaving for State College the next day. (Jack was a second semester freshman; Darryl was just beginning his freshman year with the January term.) Since Marsha wouldn’t let her son have a car while at college (“Until you prove that you won’t spend all your time partying—no way.”) it had been decided that Jack would leave with Darryl. Marsha was delighted at not having to ferry him up there herself.

Darryl stretched again, luxuriating in the warmth of his sleeper. He smiled as he wet his diaper. The was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Darryl said.

“You’re looking very well this morning. How do you feel?” Marsha asked.

“Great!” Darryl answered enthusiastically.

“That’s good. Are you ready for breakfast?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’m really hungry this morning.”

“Well, I see you’re getting back to normal fast,” Marsha laughed. “Get up and come down to the kitchen. You can shower and get into fresh diapers after breakfast.”

Darryl was not used to the nonchalant and open way that Jack and his mom spoke about diapers. He pushed the covers back and looked at the yellow sleeper he was wearing. Even lying down his diapered state was obvious. He got up and shyly walked down to the kitchen. Jack, wearing a similar sleeper, was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Hi. How do you feel?” he asked warmly.

“Great, thanks. I’ll feel even better once I get something inside me.”

“Ah, the patient has regained his appetite, I see,” Jack teased. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

“OK, you guys sit down and get out of my way while I finish preparing breakfast.” Marsha ordered.

Breakfast was delicious and Darryl enjoyed every mouthful. He went back upstairs and took a shower, walking back to his room wrapped in a towel. On the bed lay the clothes he was wearing the day he got sick plus a pair of semi-transparent side-snap plastic pants and a cloth diaper. He picked up the diaper and examined it. It was unlike any he had ever seen. It was fairly thick, hourglass shaped, and imprinted with teddy bears. He blushed as he realized how much he wanted to wear it. Until this moment he had expected to go back to his disposables. He jumped as a voice from the open door of the room interrupted his musings.

“That’s Jack’s favorite daytime style. It’s thick enough to last for several hours yet contoured so that it isn’t too bulky. It also has a special soaker in the center that keeps moisture locked in,” Marsha said. “Do you need help putting it on?”

Darryl blushed again as he realized that Marsha was assuming that he wanted to wear it. He wasn’t sure if he could manage to get it on correctly all by himself. In fact, he didn’t even know if there was a “back” and “front” to the diaper.

“Uh, yeah. I think I do,” Darryl admitted.

“OK, spread your towel on the bed. We don’t need a changing pad since you’re already clean.”

Darryl was taken aback. Should he let Jack’s mother diaper him? He had really enjoyed the babying he had been getting over the last few days. “She is a doctor,” he said to himself. “And, she wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t want to do it.” He let go of his inhibitions. He unwrapped the towel from around his waist and laid down on it.

Marsha asked him to lift up so that she could position the diaper under him. She reached for baby powder and sprinkled a liberal amount over his diaper area. She asked him to roll over so that she could do his backside. Her gentle touch was getting him aroused and it was beginning to show. Laying on his back again, she pulled the diaper up between his legs. He felt the bulky fabric and wondered if his pants would show a diaper bulge. She pinned the sides tightly using two pins on each side.

“I could also have used baby oil but I’m presuming that you’re only going to wet this diaper. Jack only uses baby oil at night in case he wants to do more than just wet his diaper.”

“Mom!” Jack protested from the hallway. “Did you have to tell Darryl that?”

“Sorry, honey. But he would have found out soon enough,” Marsha said defensively.

“Well, OK, I guess,” Jack sulked. “Anyway, I see that Darryl doesn’t need me to help him get into his diaper.”

Actually, Jack already knew that his mom was diapering Darryl. He had come to the guest room to show off his baby-print diaper and side-snap plastic pants. Now that Darryl had seen him he went back to his room to finish dressing.

Darryl and Jack went to load up the car. Even though most of Jack’s stuff was already at college they had trouble fitting everything in. It took Jack several minutes to convince Darryl to give up the five bulky packages of disposable diapers that he had brought along.

“You’ve already admitted that you really like the cloth diapers. I’ve got plenty of them for myself at school. You’ll have to get rid of the disposables for this extra supply of cloth diapers and plastic pants to fit into the trunk. You won’t need the disposables. I promise.” Jack insisted.

“But what about the laundry? Cloth diapers will pile up fast. I can’t go into the dorm laundry and wash them publicly,” Darryl retorted.

The argument was settled when Jack agreed to accept all responsibility for washing the dirty diapers.

“But, you’ll take care of hand washing the plastic pants. OK?”

[Darryl would later protest bitterly that he had been tricked. Jack had already contracted with a diaper service to take care of his diapers. All he had to do was drop off the dirty loads and pick up the clean ones.]

It was time to leave. Jack and Darryl said good-bye to Jack’s mother.

“Be careful on the road,” Marsha exhorted the guys as they pulled out of the driveway.

Once on the interstate Jack and Darryl continued their conversation from the night before.

“How did you get interested in diapers?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know,” Darryl answered honestly. “It was something that was always there, at least since I was twelve of thirteen. Every time I saw a diaper ad on TV or saw a diapered kid on the street I would feel attracted to them. For a long time I thought that I would outgrow the urge to wear diapers. It really is only in the last two years that I have started getting comfortable about them”

“Wow,” Jack remarked, “it must have been tough fighting with yourself for all those years. Did you ever get caught? You know, by your parents or anyone?”

“Almost. One time I left a wet diaper under my bed on house cleaning day but luckily my mom never found it. My parents would have gone ballistic if she had.”

“Really?” Jacked pressed.

“Well, maybe not. I’m not sure anymore. In the last few days, I’ve caught myself thinking that maybe I could tell my parents about my diapers. I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to push you but I think that you’d be a lot happier if you did.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Darryl admitted.

The drove in companionable silence for some time.

“Darryl,” Jack began, “there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

Jack’s seriousness worried Darryl.

“What?”

“Do you remember that I said that I called the college to tell them that you would miss orientation because you were sick? Well, that’s not all I told them.”

Darryl was now thoroughly confused. What was Jack getting at?”

“Well?” Darryl prompted.

“I said that you might not need your dorm room because you were thinking of requesting a change into my dorm.”

“So,” Darryl said hesitantly. “What does that mean?”

“I was hoping that you would consider rooming with me. It would be perfect. You’re a more serious student than I am, so your influence would probably be good. When I first applied for State I told them about my diapers (I called it ‘special needs,’ Jack said giggling.) and they consented to giving me a room alone. Because there are no private rooms available to freshmen I was given a double. If you wanted, we could share the room. What do you say?”

Darryl was overjoyed but he decided to string Jack along a little. He kept his face impassive and hesitated for a few moments. Jack was visibly downcast.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I shouldn’t have tried to impose on you.”

Darryl couldn’t keep his straight face any longer. He began whooping and laughing.

“Of course I want to share a room with you. Do you know how many years I dreamed of having a diaper buddy?”

With that they arrived at the campus. Jack directed Darryl to the dorm parking lot. They got Darryl registered and reassigned to Jack’s room. About an hour later they had unpacked the car and were staring at a pile of boxes and suitcases in the dorm room.

“We can get this stuff unpacked later. Let’s go see what’s going on,” Jack said.

Jack gave Darryl the complete tour and introduced him to some of the friends he had made during the first semester. Darryl felt completely at home. College was going to be even better than he had dared imagine. After lunch, they went back to the room to unpack. In the middle of it all, Darryl asked the question that been on his mind all day.

“What about you, Jack? How did you get started?”

Since Jack and Darryl were sorting and putting away diapers and plastic pants he presumed the topic was diapers.

“Actually, it wasn’t my idea. It was my mom’s,” Jack said with a smile.

“Your mom’s!” Darryl fairly screeched in surprise. “Your mom put you back in diapers? When? Why?”

“No, no,” Jack laughed. “It’s not like you’re thinking. Let me show you.”

Jack rummaged around in a file drawer and handed Darryl a stack of papers.

“I wrote the story last semester. I’ve been thinking of posting it on the net. Here, read it and tell me what you think.”

“OK, sounds great. But,” Darryl said sheepishly, “I need a diaper change first.”

“Cool. I’ll change you and then you can change me. One of the greatest things about the dorm is how hot they heat the rooms. I usually don’t wear pants when I’m in here.”

They changed each other’s soaking diapers as if they had done it to each other for years. Not that they were uncaring or blasé, rather it just felt comfortable and natural.

Darryl sat on his bed trying to get comfortable so that he could begin reading Jack’s story. Jack surprised him by jumping on the bed, too.

“That’s enough work for today. I want to read the story again, too,” Jack announced.

He scooted up the bed and leaned back against the wall.

“Read it out loud. OK?” Jack asked.

 

Part 2

“It Was My Mom’s Idea” by Jack Duncan.

Hi. My name is Jack Duncan. I’m eighteen years old and I wear diapers 24/7. For those of you who don’t know what that means, it stands for 24 hours-a-day, seven days a week. I’m not sick or anything; I wear them because I like to. I didn’t always know this about myself. It was my mom who got me into wearing diapers.

That may sound kind of weird so I’d better explain how it all happened. My mom is a pediatrician and she had a patient, Nicki, who had a severe wetting problem. He was born in the former Soviet Union and his parents emigrated to the United States a few years after the USSR collapsed, in about 1993, when he was eleven. His dad was a civil engineer who got a job with the local coal mining company where I live. It’s a small place called Porterville. The coal mines directly or indirectly employ just about everybody who lives in and around Porterville. Anyway, they moved here and immediately began trying to find a doctor who could help Nicki. His parents were ready to try anything to make him dry. They brought him to my mom who put him through all the tests she knew about. The conclusions were indisputable: it was a neuro-muscular problem with no known cure. Nicki and his parents were devastated. My mom felt bad for them so she recommended that they visit a specialist at Chicago Children’s Hospital. They spent a lot of money on more tests and exams. The results came back the same. No known therapy and no known cure. By this time, other kids had found out that Nicki wore diapers. A significant number of kids began taunting and teasing him. I knew what was really going on so I tried to protect him from them.

[“That was very kind of you,” Darryl interrupted.

“Thanks. Now shut up a continue reading,” Jack said.]

But it didn’t really do much good. Except for me and a couple of other friends, no one wanted to associate with him. He became extremely depressed. He was a very smart kid (he had mastered English in just a few months) but he seemed to have lost all desire to improve himself. He would show up at school without his homework (even though he had really done it). He even began withdrawing from the few friends he had. He would only reluctantly come out to play with us for fear of being taunted by the others.

One day my mom asked to talk to me after dinner. She told me that Nicki felt isolated because he thought he was all alone in the world with his problem. She thought that his sense of isolation could be lessened if he met other kids with similar wetting problems.

“Jack, do you want Nicki to be happy?” my mom asked.

“Sure, but what can I do?”

“Would you be willing to pretend that you had a problem like Nicki’s? Bedwetting, for instance,” my mom suggested.

“You mean lie to him?” I asked.

“No, honey. Let’s think of it more as therapy. If you pretended to be a boy who has bedwetting problems you could maybe get Nicki to talk openly about his feelings. You would be able to put him at ease. He desperately needs an outlet.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I kind of knew what my mother wanted. She wanted me to be a role model to Nicki: to be someone his age who also wore diapers because of a bladder control problem. If he thought that wearing diapers didn’t bother me, maybe his need for diapers wouldn’t bother him so much.

“How long would I have to wear them?” I asked.

“Well, you wouldn’t have to wear them all the time. Maybe you could have sleepovers with him once or twice a month. No one else would need to know.”

“OK,” I agreed.

My mom gave me a hug and said that she was proud of what I was going to do. She was sure that once Nicki’s self-confidence was built up I could gradually “get cured” and no longer need diapers for sleepovers.

The next problem was to figure out a way to let Nicki in on my “secret”.

“We have time to figure that out,” my mom said. “For now, I’ll order you some diapers from my medical supplier.”

I thought she was going to get me disposables but she explained that it would be better if I wore what Nicki wore. She ordered me a supply of cloth diapers and plastic pants. When they arrived about a week later, I was home sick with a cold. My mom began unpacking the order.

“How come you ordered so many?” I asked pointing to the eighteen thick diapers and twelve plastic pants.

“When you have sleepovers, Nicki is going to see your room. If you only have two or three diapers he might not take you seriously. Didn’t you tell me that you saw lots of diapers at his house?”

“Yeah, but he wears them all the time.”

“And you’re supposed to be wearing them every night when you go to bed. I ordered the same number I recommend that parents get for their bedwetting kids,” my mom responded.

“Where will they be stored”

“In your room, of course. We can make room for the plastic pants in the bottom drawer of your dresser and the diapers can go onto the shelves in your closet. Don’t worry, they won’t be seen by anyone else.”

I was beginning to worry about what I had gotten myself into. I still wanted to help my friend Nicki but it was getting to be much more complicated than I ever imagined.

“I’ll wash these diapers so that they’ll be ready to use.”

A couple of hours later I was resting in bed when my mother came in with the freshly laundered diapers.

“Are you feeling better, honey?” she asked me.

“A little. But my head still hurts.”

My mom felt my forehead and cheeks.

“You still have a slight fever. I’ll get you more aspirin.”

As I was taking the aspirin my mom started putting away the diapers and plastic pants. I noticed that she had also gotten some diaper pins and a container of baby powder.

“Honey, since you’re not going anywhere today, this might be a good day for you to start practicing with diapers in bed.”

“Practicing? What do you mean?” I asked nervously.

“The sooner you tell Nicki about your “bedwetting,” the sooner he’ll start feeling better about himself. When you invite him for a sleepover you’ll have to look natural in your diapers and plastic pants. If the first time you wear them is when he comes over, he might wonder why you don’t seem used to them.”

“I guess that makes sense. If I’m better by Friday, can I invite him over for Saturday night?” I asked.

“We’ll see. You really are something special, honey,” my mom said, giving me a hug. “What you’re doing for Nicki is very kind and very brave. Now let’s get you diapered.”

My mom helped me take my pajama bottoms off. She laid me on a towel and powdered me thoroughly, front and back. By the time she slid the thick diaper under me I was shaking like a leaf.

“It’s OK, honey. Everything will be all right,” she said soothingly.

I calmed down a little bit. She pinned the diaper and slid the plastic pants up my legs. The elastics at the waist and leg openings felt a little snug but, all things considered, it didn’t feel so bad to be in a diaper. My mom asked me to stand up to put my pajama bottoms back on. They wouldn’t fit.

“I guess you’ll need larger pajamas. See, we do need to practice so that we can correct all the unexpected problems we run into. I’ll buy you some new pajamas later today. Now, get back into bed and rest.”

I did as I was told but I had an urgent question to ask.

“Mom, do I have to wet the diapers, too?”

“Eventually, I suppose so. If you have several sleepovers with Nicki he’ll probably think it’s suspicious if you always wake up dry. But, we don’t have to worry about that now.”

I spent the rest of that morning and most of the afternoon in bed. My mom had gone to her practice for a couple of hours to keep her scheduled appointments. When she got back she showed me the new pajamas she had bought. They were pretty cool- they were in a space ship motif that I really liked. Around dinner time, I asked my mom if I could take my diaper off because I needed to go to the bathroom. I had actually tried to wet but I couldn’t get the hang of how to do it. The more I concentrated on wetting, the more impossible it seemed to be. She came in and took the diaper off me.

“I think you did very well for your first time. How did the diaper and plastic pants feel? Uncomfortable?”

“No, not really,” I said. I hadn’t paid much attention to them because of my headache but now that I thought about it they didn’t bother me at all. “I kinda forgot I even had them on.”

“Good. After you’re done in the bathroom come back here and I’ll put you into a fresh diaper.”

I almost objected but something inside me said that it wasn’t worth it. Wearing the diaper and plastic pants was really no big deal.

“OK,” I agreed as I headed off to the bathroom.

I was quickly rediapered and put into my new pajamas. They fit very well but anyone who looked at me would be able to tell that I was wearing something very bulky underneath. With all his experience Nicki would know right away that I was in diapers, especially since the plastic pants rustled and crinkled as I moved. I decided then and there that I would never give anyone else the opportunity to see me this way.

My fever was down so my mom allowed me to watch TV although she insisted that I stay wrapped up in a blanket. She gave me a large glass of juice as she headed off to her home office to write some reports. About an hour later, I was sort of dozing when I felt the urge to pee. I relaxed and the pee started flowing. Not a lot, but enough so that I could feel the warmth as it soaked into my diaper. I was really proud of myself. I had succeeded at wetting my diaper, and I was confident that I could do it again. I remember thinking that my mom would be pleased, too. Now I could invite Nicki to a sleepover and know that I could “accidentally” wet during the night. I really wanted to help Nicki and this first wetting of my diaper seemed like an important step to that end.

 I was back in school the next day and my friends were envious of my “day off” until they saw the amount of homework I had to do to catch up with them. I was pretty busy that night and the next day but by Friday I was all caught up. During these days, my mom and I discussed how to reveal my “problem” to Nicki. We decided that my cover story ought be really simple. The final version went something like this: I hadn’t told Nicki about my bedwetting because it had tapered off to practically nothing. Unfortunately, in the last few months, it had returned worse than ever. I wanted to let him know about it because I knew that I could trust him with the secret.

Because of my cold my mom wouldn’t let me invite Nicki until the following week. I took advantage of a moment when he and I were alone to invite him to the sleepover. He started out by saying that his parents wouldn’t allow it. I pressed him until he admitted that he was too embarrassed about his diapers to let anyone see him in them. I pointed out that I saw him in them every day since he wore them under his regular clothes. He said that that was different. It took me two days but I finally convinced him that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. My mom was his doctor and I didn’t care what he wore. I just wanted to have some fun on a sleepover. I told him about my plans: we would go to the video store to pick out some movies and I also had lots of games we could play. My mom called his mom and the plans were all set. He would come over in mid-afternoon on Saturday and stay over until after lunch on Sunday.

Starting on the day I invited him, I wore my diapers to bed every night and also wet them every night. I was becoming an expert diaper wetter.

They day of the sleepover I must have slept in later than usual. I was awakened by a banging on my window. (Most of the houses in town were one-floor and we kids had gotten into the habit of looking for each other by knocking on each other’s bedroom windows.) I jumped out of bed and realized that my wet diaper and plastic pants were giving a prominent bulge to my pajamas. I raced to my closet and stripped off my pajamas and put on a pair of jeans (that I hid my diaper) and a long-sleeved shirt. I ran to the window and opened the curtains.

“Geez, are you still asleep?” my friend Brad asked.

“Of course not,” I lied. “I was just hanging around by myself.”

Nicki and another of my friends, Frank, were standing outside my window holding a football.

“Whatever,” Brad said. “Do you want to come out and throw the ball around?”

“Yeah, sure. Give me a minute to put my shoes on.”

“Hurry up.”

I rummaged around my room and found some shoes and socks to wear.

“Aren’t you ready yet?” Brad called impatiently.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I answered.

I stopped in the bathroom to brush my teeth and to comb my hair. I ran outside to meet them. We started heading toward a vacant lot where we frequently played. My plan was to watch for my mom (who was probably grocery shopping) to drive by on her way home. I would say that I had a message for her from one of her patients. I’d go home and get out of my diaper and plastic pants and rejoin my friends in the vacant lot.

We started tossing the ball around but this quickly got boring. We decided to switch to a game of our own invention that was one-third keep away, one-third rugby, and one-third who-knows-what. The rules were simple. Whoever had the ball ran toward the goal line (the street) until he was touched. He had to give the ball up to whoever had touched him and then that person became the player to stop. Of course, this led to all kinds of arguments and mayhem. (I touched him first.” “No, you didn’t.” “Yes, I did.” “Well, I’ve got the ball so try to catch me.” etc. etc.) The longer the game was played, the rougher it got. We loved it.

We had been playing for a while when I saw my mom drive home. I was so engrossed in the game that I didn’t want to stop, especially since I was the only one who had scored any points. Anyway, I had the ball again and I was doing a good job of escaping from the others when Brad managed to catch me below the knees at the same time that Frank started grabbing the ball out of my hands. I guess my pants must have slipped a little bit because Brad got the idea that he could stop me by pulling my pants down around my knees. He gave them another tug at the same instant that Frank made a second stronger grab at the ball that I was still holding onto tightly. Brad wound up falling over onto his back laughing hysterically because between the two of them they had pulled me right out of my pants. I was left more or less on my feet. I still refused to let go of the ball as I tried to break Frank’s hold.

It took me a second to remember what I was wearing and then everything switched into slow motion. My first thought was totally stupid: “Damn, I should have put on a belt.” Then, I let go of the ball. When Frank turned around to see why I was giving it up, he froze in place. Behind me, Brad suddenly stopped laughing as he sat up. The worst part was the way Nicki was looking at me. His cold stare said it all. “You let me get insulted and abused by the other kids when you yourself also wear diapers. Why did you let me suffer alone? I never want to see you again. Ever.” I knew that I had to say something, and fast, or I would wreck all the plans my mom and I had made to help Nicki.

Nicki turned away and started walking rapidly back toward his house. I went after him.

“Nicki, please. Let me explain,” I pleaded.

He turned around, shook his head, and waved me off.

“Please, Nicki. It’s important.”

I was getting desperate.

“Please, stop. If I have to, I’ll follow you all the way home in just my diaper and plastic pants. You’ve got to listen. Please.”

This caught his attention.

[“It would have caught mine, too,” Darryl teased. “I wish that I could have been there to see you chasing him across the field in your diapers and plastic pants.”

“Enough of that,” Jack answered. “You’re breaking the mood. Get back to the story.”]

He stopped and waited for me to catch up with him. We were pretty close to the neighboring houses but at this point I didn’t care who saw me.

“Don’t you see, Nicki? This is why I wanted to have the sleepover tonight. I needed to tell you. I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier but it’s awfully complicated.”

Nicki’s face softened. I knew that he would listen to me. But what would I say? I wished that my mom were there to help me.

Frank and Brad caught up to us. Brad handed me my pants.

“God, Jack, I’m sorry. I didn’t know… You never even said… Please don’t hate me,” Brad said.

“It’s not your fault,” I answered as I put my pants back on. “I should have worn a belt.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Obviously, they were waiting for me to explain myself. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Do you want me and Brad to leave you two guys alone?” Frank asked.

I guess he felt that since Nicki and I were fellow diapers wearers (so to speak) we probably wanted to talk about it alone.

“No,” I answered. “You’ve been my friends forever. You should know, too.”

I started telling my pre-arranged story.

“You see, I’ve been a bedwetter for a long time . By the time you moved here, Nicki, it had practically gone away. That’s why I didn’t say anything to you. I was afraid that you would feel even worse it you knew that I had stopped needing diapers. But, just a few months ago the bedwetting started coming back. And now, the wetting is much worse than ever before.”

I stopped there. I was hoping that this would be enough information to stop the discussion, at least until I could talk to my mother.

“And now you have to wear them during the day, too?” Nicki asked, his voice full of sympathy.

I hadn’t practiced an answer to that. What other reason could there be for me wearing them outside to play? I got flustered and said the first thing that came into my head.

“Yes.”

I knew right away that I had said the wrong thing. Why did I say that? I tried to backtrack.

“I mean… It’s just that…” I started to say.

But I couldn’t think of a sensible way to finish the sentence. I was totally confused and scared. Nicki tried to comfort me.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “It’s scary being different from everyone else.

Frank and Brad seemed uncomfortable. I felt that they wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. I began to feel the fears that Nicki had always lived with. Would my friends abandon me because of my diapers?

“I have to go home,” I said. “Will you still come to my sleepover tonight, Nicki?”

“Of course,” he answered.

We split up. I ran home. By the time I got there I was in tears. I ran to my room and threw myself onto the bed. My mother left me alone until my cries had subsided.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” she asked.

I nodded my head. It took me a couple of false starts before I got myself under control. I told her the whole story.

“I see,” was all she said.

We were quiet for a few moments.

“What will you do now?” she asked.

I guess I had cried myself out. I was totally analytical, viewing the situation as if it were happening to someone else.

“If I go back and tell Nicki that I only have to wear diapers at night, he’ll want to know why I lied to him, Brad, and Frank.”

“I think you’re right,” my mom agreed.

“If I don’t change my story, I’ll have to wear diapers all the time.”

“I think that that’s true, too.” my mom agreed again.

“I want to help Nicki. I guess I’ll have to wear diapers full-time for a little while, at least. I don’t think Brad and Frank will stop being my friends. They stayed friends with Nicki even though a lot of other kids didn’t. Unless, they think that two diaper-wearing friends is too much. But, even if everybody else stops being my friend, I’m pretty sure that I’ll always have Nicki,” I said hopefully.

“Honey, you are really special. I’m so sorry that I got you into this,” my mom said through tear-filled eyes.

“That’s OK,” I said giving her a hug. “I really like Nicki and, whatever happens, it will be worth it if he gets to feel better about himself.”

My mom hugged me back for what felt like a long time.

“Mom,” I eventually said, “will you please change my diaper?”

“It will be a pleasure, honey. A real pleasure.”

I never expected my two best friends Brad and Frank to find out about my diapers. My mom and I had planned for “my problem” to be a bedwetting problem, not a twenty-four a day problem. Worse still, I would have to go even more “public.” My seventh grade class had PE every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon. People had found out about Nicki’s diapers because his parents had insisted that he be treated like everyone else. I would be joining him in changing in the locker room with all the other guys. I dreaded what would happen.

Nicki and I talked about the PE class during our sleepover. We agreed that hiding my diapers would be impossible. He thought that my best bet was to act as normal as possible. He thought that since I already had the respect of the other kids they would probably leave me alone. I wasn’t so sure.

My mom was worried, too. On Monday morning she called the school and talked to Mr. Clarke, the PE teacher, and told him that, for medical reasons, I would be in diapers indefinitely. He told her that he would keep an eye out and that he would make sure that nothing happened. Mr. Clarke was a nice guy but his attempts to protect Nicki from taunts and teasing weren’t very effective. I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be able to protect me from the other guys. I would have to do it myself. The problem was that I didn’t have a clue how.

One-thirty came and for the first time ever I wasn’t anxious for PE class to start. Brad and Frank had been treating me normally all day. I hoped that their loyalty would carry over once I was exposed as a “diaper boy” in the locker room. Everybody started changing. I took off my shirt and put on my gym t-shirt. I took my gym shorts out of the locker and laid them next to me on the bench. I unbuckled my pants and tried to get out of them as fast as I could. The first person to react to my diaper and plastic pants was Peter Marshal. Peter was a hyperactive pain-in-the-neck who was constantly causing trouble.

“Look, another one,” he shouted.

Heads turned and followed his pointing finger. Right to my plastic pants. Mr. Clark tried to intervene to stop the commotion that was building. I was trying to stay calm but my hands were shaking violently as I pulled up my gym shorts. My diaper was finally covered but not forgotten.

Peter led the verbal assault.

“Let’s hope that Nicki and Jack don’t let loose at the same time. The locker room might get flooded.”

“Man, I hope he’s not on my team today. I don’t know how to change diapers,” someone else shouted.

Up until this point, I had always gotten along well with my classmates so I felt betrayed and isolated. Brad, Frank, Nicki, and I left the locker room first. The other guys followed after Mr. Clarke gave them a long and loud lecture about respect.

We played touch football that day. The game didn’t go too badly. In fact, out on the field, several of the guys whispered their support to me or made comments about what a jerk Peter was. I was amazed. This was going much better than I thought it would. Playing back the scene in the locker room, I realized that only Peter, Alex, Travis, and Eddie had made negative comments. No one else had not joined in.

The class ended and we went back to the locker room for showers. Most guys didn’t want to shower publicly but Mr. Clarke insisted on it. I guess Mr. Clarke’s words did have an effect on the guys. No one made any comments as Nicki and I unpinned our wet diapers and put them into plastic bags to take home. The shower room was quieter than usual and, afterwards, even though I was very clumsy while putting on my own diaper, not a word was said.

I hoped that that would be the end of any negative comments but more harassment started as soon as we got off the bus the next morning.

Alex, Peter, Travis and Eddie were waiting for us.

“Look, it’s Baby Nicki and Baby Jack and their baby sitters. Tell us- are you getting good at changing diapers, Brad and Frank?” Alex taunted.

Peter said that it was too bad that Brad and Frank didn’t wear diapers, too. That way, the next time the PE class played baseball our four diapered butts could be used as the bases. Travis said something equally stupid. Strangely, Eddie just walked away from his friends without looking at us or making any comments.

I wanted to retaliate against them at the earliest opportunity. It was Nicki who talked me out of it.

“It won’t do any good,” he explained. “If you pick a fight one of you will win and the other will lose. Whoever loses will want revenge and the cycle of fighting will never end. The best thing to do is to ignore them. You can see that no one else is joining in with them. It will die down soon. In fact, now that there are two of us in diapers it will die down sooner. Most people really like you and they won’t join in on the stupid things that those guys are saying”

I wasn’t convinced that he was right. I went along with him, though, because his spirits seemed to have improved a lot since he found out that I wore diapers, too. In just a few days he was proven right. Alex, Peter, and Travis ran out of new insults to throw at us so they started recycling old ones. The other kids got impatient with them and began telling them to lay off.

I wondered about Eddie. He was no longer hanging around with his old friends. He didn’t seem to have any primary group anymore. After a few days of hanging around by himself he suddenly asked if he could talk to Nicki and me.

“I’m sorry about the way I acted in the locker room,” he said. “And I’m sorry how I kept on teasing you, Nicki, when you first got here.”

We were amazed.

“That’s OK,” we answered.

“Can I be your friend?” he asked.

This was an even bigger surprise. I didn’t know what to say so Nicki answered.

“Sure, why not?”

With that we headed off to the lunch room. We went to our usual spot where Brad and Frank were waiting for us. They were very surprised to see Eddie with us. Nicki went straight to the heart of the matter.

“Eddie wants to be our friend. OK?”

Brad and Frank agreed. Eddie fit it in right away. His old friends gave him a little trouble about wanting to play with the “babies” but he just ignored them. He made a point of telling us several times that he had a lot more in common with us than he did with them.

Several months went by and we had all adjusted to our new circumstances. I barely thought about my days “before diapers.” I now had as big a diaper and plastic pants supply as Nicki. It didn’t bother me at all that my friends saw them lying around the laundry room or piled up in my bedroom. Eddie was the only one who seemed a little shy about seeing them. I noticed that he would look quickly away from them if he happened to spot them. Also, one day when Eddie was there, my mom asked me to take a load of diapers and plastic pants back to my room. I picked up the large pile of diapers from on top of the dryer and asked him if he would mind grabbing the plastic pants and bringing them to my room. He agreed but by the time we got to my room he was all red in the face and his hands were shaking.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I guess I’m so used to them now that I don’t give my diapers and plastic pants a second thought. I forget how weird it must seem that I wear them.”

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie said. “I don’t think you’re weird. It’s me who’s weird.”

Eddie began to cry. I was totally confused. I didn’t want my mother coming in so I shut the door. Eddie got control of himself about a minute later.

“I have to go,” he sniffled.

“No, please don’t,” I said. “What’s wrong? Can’t I help?”

“Nobody can.”

“Don’t say that. I want to be your friend. I won’t tell anybody, no matter what you say.”

“I’m too scared,” he said in a choked voice.

He started crying again. This time it lasted longer. Finally, he was under control again.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone, ever?” he pleaded.

“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” I answered.

“I’m jealous,” he said.

“Jealous? Of who?” I asked, confused.

“Of you… and Nicki,” he admitted.

“Us? Why? You’re just as good as us. What have we got that you don’t have?”

“Diapers,” he said simply.

I involuntarily gasped.

“See, you think it’s weird, too,” he said.

“No. That’s not it,” I protested. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Anyway, now you know. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” I insisted.

Eddie sat there glumly fingering the material of one on my diapers.

“Do you want to wear one now?” I asked

His face lit up for about a second before it fell again.

“Nah, I can’t” he mumbled.

“Why not? No one will find out. I promise”

“It’s not that,” he answered.

“Then, what?” I pressed.

“It’s that every time I think of diapers and plastic pants I get a stiffie,” he said, turning red in the face.

Until then I had never thought of diapers in a sexual way. As soon as he said it, though, I began getting a stiffie, too.

“So what?” I asked. “It’s happened to me, too. Do you want to wear a diaper or not?”

I could see the fight going on inside him.

“You know you’re going to hate yourself later if you don’t do it. Come on, it’s OK.” I urged.

That did it. His face cleared up and a smile lit up his face.

“You won’t tell anyone, ever. Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.,” I said somewhat impatiently.

I got out a changing pad and began unfolding a diaper.

“Take your pants and underwear off,” I said.

Eddie hesitated.

“What if your mother comes in?” he worried.

“She won’t,” I assured him. “She always knocks first. And, besides, she working on stuff in her office. Stop worrying.”

He unbuckled his pants and slid them down taking his underwear with them at the same time. I was busy collecting pins and powder. Eddie’s eyes grew round as he saw the powder.

“You’re going to put baby powder on me, too?”

“Of course, you’ll start itching if I don’t. The plastic pants hold a lot of heat, you know. And then, when you wet your diaper the powder will protect your skin.”

By now Eddie was laying on the bed on top of the changing pad. He lifted up so that I could slide the diaper under him. His stiffie was very evident. Mine had grown inside my diaper, too. I sprinkled powder on his diaper area and spread it around without touching his penis. He rolled over and I did his behind. As I pulled the diaper material up between his legs and began pinning it, he started making the strangest noises. It sounded like a baby gurgling. He got red again and stopped. I finished putting in the last pin and he tried to get up.

“No,” I said, “I’ll give you the whole treatment.”

I picked up a pair of plastic pants and slid them up his legs and over the diaper.

“Now you can stand up. Let me check that all the diaper material is inside your plastic pants.”

 I adjusted his plastic pants and he was ready. I turned him around so that he could see himself in the dresser mirror. He began giggling more or less uncontrollably. He lifted his shirt and looked at himself from every angle possible.

“This is soooo cool,” he said. “Thanks.”

We sat down on the floor of my room and talked for awhile. Eddie told me about all the times he had wished to be put into diapers and how hard it is was for him to hide his feelings. All the time he was talking, Eddie ran his hands over the smooth surface of the plastic pants, feeling the diaper material underneath. Over and over, he repeated how this was the happiest day of his life.

Eventually it was lunchtime. I needed to find out what Eddie wanted to do.

“My mom’s going to be fixing lunch pretty soon. Do you want me to ask her if you can stay?”

“Great!” he answered without hesitation.

“OK, let’s go ask her.” I said. “First, though, you better cover up your diapers,” I joked.

“You know, I love it when you say “your diapers.” I really wish they were mine.”

Eddie’s pants fit pretty well over the diaper and plastic pants. There was a slight fullness in the crotch and a barely noticeable roundness in the seat that I told him I didn’t think anyone else would notice.

After lunch we waited for the other guys to come over. We hadn’t planned anything but we always figured something out when we were together.

“Is your diaper wet?” I asked Eddie.

“Yeah,” he shyly admitted. “I guess I’d better take it off before the other guys get here.”

He seemed so sad as he removed the diaper and plastic pants that I asked if he wanted to wear another set. He hesitated, weighing the risk of discovery by the others.

“OK,” he finally said.

I cleaned him off with a couple of wipes and got him into a fresh diaper. It just so happened that this diaper was from the second set that my mother had ordered. These were slightly thicker. When he put his pants back on, his crotch was noticeably fuller with a very definite roundness visible on his backside (the same thing happened to me when I wore these diapers). I pointed this out to him.

“I don’t care,” he said resolutely. “I want to wear them, no matter what.”

I shrugged and agreed that I was probably exaggerating how obvious his diaper was. I changed myself into a fresh diaper and we waited for the other guys to arrive. They came about fifteen minutes later. For some reason nobody felt like doing anything so we sat around my room talking about all kinds of stuff. We covered all the topics of interest to twelve year old boys including which girls wore bras with padding and which didn’t.

After a while Nicki remembered that he had left a sweatshirt at my house a couple of weeks before and that his mother was bugging him about bringing it home. I told him that my mom had washed it and that it was still in the laundry room. We went to get it while the other guys stayed in my room.

“Why is Eddie wearing diapers?” Nicki asked as soon as we were away from my bedroom.

“What are you talking about?” I asked as innocently as I could.

“Please,” he said in an exaggerated tone, stretching out the word ‘please’ until it sounded like he was saying “pull-ease”. “I know what diapers look like. Do you now what’s going on?”

“He’ll kill me if I tell you,” I said, hoping to avoid having to answer.

“You’re not telling me anything new. I already know he’s in diapers. Why?”

Since Eddie had already admitted that he had been jealous of Nicki as well as of me, I rationalized that Nicki was already involved. I told him the story in about thirty seconds.

“I won’t say anything,” he promised.

As far as I know Frank and Brad never noticed.

Eddie “borrowed” diapers from me more and more often as the weeks went by. I sensed that my mother was noticing the extra laundry. I had to say something to Eddie.

“Eddie, I’m not saying that you can’t continue to borrow my diapers whenever you want but I’m afraid that my mom is beginning to notice how many more diapers she has to wash.”

“I’m sorry,” he answered. “I guess I’ve been getting carried away.”

I had been thinking about this problem for several days.

“Have you thought about telling you parents?” I asked. “Like, maybe you could get your own.”

“No!” he practically shouted, “never. I can’t do that.”

“Too bad you aren’t a bedwetter,” I suggested.

Eddie picked up on it right away.

“What are you saying?” he asked.

“I’ve heard my mom on the phone talking about bedwetting. I remember that she once said that bedwetting can be very mysterious. It can suddenly appear, even in older kids, and then mysteriously disappear.”

“Do you think I could get away with it?” he asked seriously.

“I don’t know. You can try.”

He wasted no time putting a plan into action. The next morning at school he told me that he had flooded his bed the night before and that his mom was very worried about it. She had already made an appointment with my mom for after school.

When my mom got home from her office she said that she wanted to speak to me.

“Normally, you know that I don’t talk to you about my patients and their appointments. I’m going to break that rule today because I think you know something about why Eddie’s mom made an appointment for him to see me today.”

I got a sinking feeling. I should have known that my mom would put two and two together. I already knew that she was suspicious about my apparent increased diaper use. To have one of my best friends show up with a sudden wetting problem was just too coincidental for her to believe. I didn’t say anything. My mom knew that this was practically an admission of guilt.

“Well?” What’s going on?” she pressed.

I still didn’t answer.

“Do I have to ask Nicki’s parents if I can speak to him about this?” she continued.

“No. Don’t do that,” I panicked. “He’s not involved.”

“Then tell me who is,” she said.

I confessed the whole set up. When I had finished she paused for a few seconds.

“Look, Jack. I can’t give a false diagnosis to Eddie’s parents. That would be highly unprofessional and I could even lose my license to practice medicine. On the other hand, I understand how important loyalty is to you. I’ll have to think about what I should do.”

I really felt depressed. I didn’t want my mom to get caught in the middle. I went to see Eddie. I told him everything that my mom had said. At first he was really upset with me. Eventually, he calmed down and said that he understood. Still, he couldn’t tell his parents the truth. He was so committed to the plan that he couldn’t see that it had already failed. He flooded his bed again that night.

Eddie’s mom called my mom for another consultation. My mom asked to speak to her and her husband alone. They set up a meeting for 10:30 when Eddie would be in school

My mom began the consultation by telling Eddie’s parents that she was 99% sure that the cause of the bedwetting was not physical. The next likely cause was emotional or physical abuse. She said that there was certainly no evidence of either kind of abuse in the home. She asked his parents if there were any relatives or neighbors who could possibly be abusing Eddie. They were appalled at the idea and doubted very much that anything like that was going on.

“That leaves us with one last major possibility,” my mom continued. “Eddie could be doing this out of a desire to imitate his friends. Of course, you know that I mean Jack and Nicki. He may not even be conscious of the connection, although I believe he is. I think that it is very likely that he has developed a strong attraction to diapers because they fill some emotional need inside of him. If we asked him, I doubt very much that he could identify what that need was. You could try talking to him in a logical fashion and point out that you love him, that he has a secure home life, and that all his needs are being met. But I doubt that that would change what he is feeling.”

“Are you saying that Eddie is faking? That he wants to be put back into diapers,” Eddie’s father asked, agitation clearly evident in his demeanor.

“I’m saying that it’s a strong possibility,” my mom answered.

“And it’s because we allowed him to hang around with your son?” he added.

“Now, dear,” Eddie’s mother interrupted, “that’s not fair to the doctor. It’s not her son’s fault. Or Nicki’s fault. Is it?””

“I am in a very difficult position here, as you can imagine, because my son is involved,” my mother answered. “I can give you some literature on the topic that I researched last night. I think that Nicki and my son’s diapers was merely the trigger that was handy for Eddie. If that hadn’t been there, it would have been diaper ads on TV or in magazines that would have triggered his desires.”

“What do you suggest?” Eddie’s dad asked.

“Read the literature and give me a call. We can either set up another meeting or discuss options over the phone.”

The meeting ended and Eddie’s parents went home rather than going to work. A couple of hours later they called my mom.

“Marsha, my wife and I have read over the literature. It seems to us that our course of action is pretty clear. Especially after we read the stuff written by kids who have the urge to be in diapers again,” Eddie’s father said.

My mom and he talked for about five minutes. She said that she thought that they had made a correct decision and she wished them luck.

At one-thirty, a note arrived in our classroom notifying the teacher that Eddie was to be dismissed for the rest of the day. His parents were waiting for him in the principal’s office.

After I got off the bus, I ran to my mother’s office to find out why Eddie had been called out of class. Of course, she said she couldn’t tell me so I went home sulking.

A little after dinner, Eddie banged on my window.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “I’ve got something important to tell you.”

“Of course you can,” I said running to the back door to let him in.

My mother asked me why I was running through the house.

“Eddie is here,” I said breathlessly, “can I talk to him?”

“If I said ‘no’ I’m pretty sure that there be very little peace around here,” she chuckled.

Eddie was already standing by the door when I opened it. I would have known that he was diapered even if I hadn’t seen the bulge in his crotch area. His face was glowing. We went into my room and I shut the door.

“What happened?” I asked excitedly.

Eddie kicked off his shoes, unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants.

“This!” he said, proudly showing the front and back of his thick diaper and plastic pants.

“Tell me everything,” I begged.

“After my parents picked me up they told me we were going shopping in Centreville. I asked them why. ‘To get you some diapers,’ my dad said. ‘For my bedwetting?’ I asked. ‘And for whatever other reason you want them,’ my mom answered. I got real nervous, tears were starting to form in my eyes. I didn’t know what to say. They knew that I wanted diapers, not that I needed them. My mom saw that I was getting upset and she said that she and my dad had talked to your mom and that your mom had given them some stuff to read. These were articles about kids like me who want to wear diapers. My parents said that they didn’t want me doing things behind their back and that if wearing diapers meant that I would be happy, that was OK with them. I got the feeling that my dad was less happy about it than my mom, but he said OK anyway. Isn’t it great?”

“So,” I answered, “what are going to do? Have you decided how often you’ll wear them.”

“Whenever I don’t have PE,” he answered immediately.

I felt that I had an obligation to tell him that his diapers had been real obvious under his pants when he was standing by the door.

“I know,” he said, “as soon as I get home my mom is taking me shopping for new pants- that will hide my diapers better.” He paused and smiled, “God, I love saying ‘my’ diapers and ‘my’ plastic pants!”

Within a few days, Eddie let Nicki, Brad, and Frank in on his secret. Frank and Brad groaned saying that they didn’t know it they could take three diaper-wearing friends. Of course, they were only kidding.

Eddie turned out to be quite an exhibitionist whenever the five of us were together, anyway. At any one of our houses, he would take his pants off and walk around in just his diaper and plastic pants. Once summer came around, Nicki and I joined him. It was really cool (literally and figuratively)! In fact, it became standard dress after a while. Frank and Brad occasionally complained about this, but mostly to tease us. Amazingly, Eddie’s secret stayed in our circle. No one that I know of ever found out.

Things went on unchanged until the end of eighth grade. One day late in May, Nicki announced that his dad was being transferred. The coal company wanted to make a major investment in Russian coal mines and his dad was getting a job as liaison between the Russian and American operations. At first his dad had resisted. But since the company guaranteed that he would be paid an American salary, in American dollars, he couldn’t refuse. By comparison to the rest of the people in Russia, they would be rich. They would be moving back to Russia during the summer.

The news hit us all hard. We all liked Nicki and he liked us. It was a painful parting and we all promised to keep in touch. Of course, this lasted for only a few months. He established his new life and ours continued on without him.

Nicki and his family had been gone about a week when my mom asked me the question I was dreading.

“What are you going to do now? About your diapers, that is.”

I had already thought about this. I was now in the same position as Eddie had been in about a year before. I had grown to love my diapers and I didn’t want to give them up.

“Can I keep them?” I asked.

“To wear them sometimes, or to continue wearing them all the time?” she asked.

“All the time,” I answered.

“It’s whatever you want. The decision is yours. I just wanted to clear the air so that you wouldn’t wonder what my opinion was. And, what about Eddie? Will you tell him the truth about why you wear diapers?” she continued

I think my answer surprised her.

“I’ve already told him, even before Nicki left. I wanted his advice about whether I should tell Nicki or not.”

“What did you decide?” my mom wondered.

“We decided that I shouldn’t tell him. I don’t know, maybe I should have. I just didn’t want him to think that I had manipulated him. Like you said at the beginning, we weren’t lying to him- we were giving him therapy.”

And that was it. She had given me permission to make up my mind about what I wanted to do. Little by little Eddie and I began adding to our diaper games. We started by getting baby bottles and pacifiers. Then we moved on to the internet where we discovered baby clothes available in our sizes. We weren’t old enough to buy them ourselves so we had to let our parents in on the game.

Once again, they told us to make up our own minds. At birthdays and at Christmas they even began to surprise us with special treats: baby print diapers, sleepers, toddler-style overalls, and baby shirts. Naturally, all of this was kept very private. Not even Frank or Brad knew about this stuff.

 

 

Part 3

“As you can see, I haven’t quite finished the story,” Jack said.

“Perhaps not,” Darryl agreed, “but you’ve got to post this somewhere on the net. There are lots of kids out there who need to know that a desire to wear diapers doesn’t make them some kind of freak. I know that I agonized over my diaper desires for years. The more that kids find out about other people’s experiences, the better the odds that they’ll feel better about themselves. I know. I was scared to death as a kid.”

“Now that you’ve read this,” Jack asked, “will you tell your parents about your diapers the next time you see them?”

“Even just last week I was terrified of what they might say. Now, I want them to know all about me. I’m not scared to tell them anymore.”

“That’s great,” Jack said, smiling toward his new friend.

“There’s just one more thing,” Darryl said. “What happened to Eddie? Do you still keep in touch?”

“I tell you what,” Jack answered. “Let’s go up to his room and find out if he wants to go get something to eat. You can ask him all those questions yourself.”

 

The End.


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Age: <8 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 >18
What diapers do you wear? Cloth Disposable Multiple Underpants I do not wear diapers
Are your diapers plain white? Always Usually Sometimes Rarely Never I do not wear diapers
Do you wear multiple diapers? Always Usually Sometimes Rarely Never I do not wear diapers
Are you pantsless at home while in diapers? Always Usually Sometimes Rarely Never I do not wear diapers
How do you use your diapers? Pee Poop
Who else in your family has read this story? Mother Father Older Brother Younger Brother Older Sister Younger Sister
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