This is my first diaper story, I hope you like it.
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Scott’s Punishment

Tim and his louder twin Brad shared a room in a small house, in a fairly quiet suburban neighborhood. They had another brother Scott, who was a few years younger at 13. The three teens lived alone with their father – and that’s the way it had always been, their mother having passed away when they were much younger.

Apart from volume, the twins were identical in almost every way; they had the same interests, they shared the same group of friends – and of course they took the same classes at school. They also shared a night-time secret. The twins were bedwetters, and had been for as long as anyone could remember.

“Time to get ready for bed, guys,” their dad announced. The four of them had been watching a movie in the den, a Friday-night tradition that the family tried to keep.
 “Alright,” Brad resigned as his twin suffered a massive yawn. Scott was already asleep on the couch, his mouth wide as his little jaws would allow.
 “Scotty. Scotty!” his dad called, trying to wake the little guy from his deep sleep.
“Huh? Wassamatter?” Scott managed drowsily.
“We better get you upstairs, mister. Come on,”
Tim and Brad were halfway up the stairs as Scott rolled on to his back and stretched on the couch.
“Ah, looks like you’re a little damp there fella,” his dad noticed, motioning to the boy’s pajama pants with a nod of the head.
“WHAT!” Scott exclaimed, annoyed as he looked down to see that sure enough, he had caused a little wet patch to form during the movie. This was unusual for Scott – unlike his brothers, he could go months without having an accident. The commotion had made the twins turn back for the den where the extent of the damage was clear to see.
“Scott, buddy that’s no big deal at all,” Tim offered helpfully.
“Yeah we wake up soaked nearly every day man,” Brad added.
“Don’t sweat it. Just head on upstairs and I’ll be right behind with some clean PJs,” his dad said to a now clearly irritable Scott, who was pinking around the cheeks.
“Whatever,” Scott replied as he followed his brothers upstairs, knowing that he’d probably be wearing something else with those clean PJs.

Tim and Brad were pretty much experts at getting their “night gear” on, the glamorous name their dad had given to a set of disposable youth diapers. This was to be expected - after all, the twins had been wearing them more-or-less nightly since the wetness had started, all those years ago. They never put up a fuss, knowing that their dad had enough on his hands looking after three teenagers single-handedly without having to change sheets and do laundry every night. The same could not be said for Scott, who on the very rare occasions he wore diapers, had to be helped into them by his dad. Sure enough, there was a polite knock on the twins’ bedroom door a few minutes later.
“You don’t mind if I just get… for Scotty,” their dad asked, already on the way to the dresser.
“Sure,” Tim replied from the bottom bunk.
“Poor guy, he’s upset about it isn’t he dad,” Brad reported.
“More angry with himself, I reckon. He’s really beating himself up about the whole thing. I’m glad you guys are so grown up about it,” dad replied.
“Just, I mean – it can’t be easy for the little guy,” said Tim.
“Well it doesn’t happen that often does it? I don’t think we need to worry,” their dad decided reassuringly, “now as for you guys…”
“Dad we’ll grow out of it,” responded a defiant voice from the top bunk.
“Mmm,” was the only reply from a not-so-convinced father as he left the room. “G’night guys.”

The twins could hear muffled complaints from across the hallway, and they talked quietly before finally drifting off as they heard a light click off and a door being closed slowly – it sounded as if Scott had resigned and was going to try to get some sleep with that unusual warm, soft feeling of a disposable under his PJs.

The next day Scott dragged himself into the kitchen where Tim was already pouring himself some cereal. “Still got your night gear on, eh?” The elder brother asked surprised, noticing Scott’s slightly padded rear.
“Erm, yeah, Brad’s in the bathroom still.” Tim wasn’t surprised at this; his own “full” feeling told him he’d have to follow his brother’s lead when he’d finished his cereal. Since the twins did everything together, eating and drinking included, most of the time their bodily functions were in perfect tune with each other. “I’m not wet though!” Scotty announced to Tim, again the pink rising to his cheeks as he looked up at his older brother.
“Okay! Calm, little dude!” was Tim’s reply, holding both hands up as he wondered how long that could last – Brad’s visit to their only bathroom might be a longish one. “I haven’t had a chance to change out of mine either, and knowing Brad I might let some air to the bathroom for a few minutes first.” Finally a smile from Scott which faded slightly as he remembered how he was dressed. “Why don’t you fix yourself some breakfast, Scotty?”
“Yeah,” he replied as he reached for the cupboard, looking towards Tim’s own night gear as he did so, which would almost certainly be in a damp condition.

A good time had passed and the two boys had finished their breakfast as their dad walked in to the kitchen, yawning.
“Is he STILL in there, Tim?” he asked. “Oh, finally,” he answered himself hearing a door click upstairs.
“Excuse me!” Tim apologized as he cleared the room, beating Scott and his dad to the kitchen door before they’d even left the table.
“Oh, sorry Tim,” his dad said sitting back down, realizing that Tim must need to head in a similar direction to Brad knowing the twins as well as he did. Not saying a word to his dad, and shifting around a little uncomfortably, Scott began reading the back of the cereal package. Tim was in the bathroom in a flash, his pajama pants lowered slightly and his soggy diaper removed, expertly rolled and tossed in the pail. The air around him still held the evidence of Brad’s visit, but despite his joke earlier Tim didn’t really mind this. The twins were comfortable around each other even in such a sensitive area as the bathroom – in fact one twin might brush his teeth or shower while the other used the toilet. Tim finished what he had to do, flushed the toilet and headed for the shower all the time unaware of his younger brother hammering at the door with his fists.
“Tim! TIIIMMMM!!” Scott tried desperately. It was no use, he couldn’t be heard. Scott soon realized that it was already too late, he’d been trickling into his until-now unused diaper. The trickle became a stream and to his horror Scott discovered that the pressure on his bladder had been relieved. Scott wasn’t a big guy, and he hadn’t had much to drink even before his accident the previous night, so as before the damage was more of a mishap than a catastrophe but still the little guy felt soaked, and he was embarrassed and irritable as the door eventually opened and he pushed past his brother to get into the bathroom.
Tim, suddenly realizing that his brother must have been waiting uncomfortably outside apologized: “Oh Scotty, sorry, did you need to get in as well?” he asked, knowing the answer. His face crumpled in to a slight frown as his sensitive nose picked up a new smell.
“Yeah,” was Scott could manage in reply as he closed the door, avoiding Tim’s gaze. Tim mentally shrugged it off and headed back to his room. Scott meanwhile wasn’t suffering any difficulty taking off his only slightly dampened diaper, and he hurriedly tossed it in the pail on top of the other two. He lacked the experience of wearing one or rolling it up properly and besides, he didn’t want to be associated with it for a second longer.

Scott emerged from the bathroom feeling much less moody after his shower. The twins and their younger brother soon left the house to meet with their friends on the sunny Saturday morning. Not long after, their dad headed upstairs to clean the bathroom after them. He changed the bag in the pail and noticing that it was heavier than usual and only just remembering why, decided to take a peek inside. It was clear which diaper had been Scott’s from the less-than-expert way it had been disposed of, and unluckily for little Scott also quite clear in its unfolded state that it had been used. “Poor Scotty,” the man thought to himself with disappointment, knowing how cross Scott would be that he had wet his bed.

When the boys returned home later that evening, they found that their father had been to the store in their absence. “Hey, Dad, these aren’t the kind we have,” Tim said looking through the groceries at a package of diapers that were a few sizes too small for the twins.
“Yeah and these have got those stupid prints on them.” Brad added.
“These are for Scotty,” the dad explained, as the guy himself walked in behind them.
“What? NO!” Scott burst out.
“Relax kiddo! You hardly ever have an accident, unlike wet and wetter over here,” his dad reminded him, “these are just so if you ever have a problem like last night, we’ve got some that will fit you and you can still get a decent night’s sleep. I’ll keep them in my closet, none of your friends will know. It’s up to you if you wear them. You’ll probably be dry now until October, won’t you?” Scott was back to his moody self and looked down at the floor, thinking his dad was referring to the accident in the movie. He’d been deep asleep after all, the package might never have to be opened. “Great. Now you guys help me unpack the groceries.”

That night Scott had been miraculously persuaded into one of the new diapers – “Just in case, you know it’ll be dry in the morning,” his dad had reasoned. “Besides we need to know they fit you.” As predicted, the thirteen-year-old did wake up dry, unlike his brothers. He wasted no time getting to the bathroom to take the stupid thing off.
“Scott, is that you? Are you finished, I gotta pee,” Tim asked through the door. Scott took the opportunity for easy revenge on his brother, and ignored the plea heading instead to turn on the shower. In the long wait outside without the protection Scott’d had the morning before, Tim had wet himself very slightly - but in his sandy-colored cargo pants it was noticed by his dad, walking past.
“Err… Tim,” he asked confused, pointing at the wet patch.
“Sorry Dad, I was desperate, Scotty’s been in there ages!”
“Bradley!” his dad called to the other twin, “you too. In your room, both of you, now.”
“What’s wrong?” Brad asked, confused.
“Your brother here just had an accident. I’m not having wet carpets in this house, so you can both get a diaper on now.” Tim’s frightened look told Brad not to complain so he turned toward the dresser without any fuss. “Good,” his dad said, leaving their room.
Tim answered the question before Brad even had to ask it, “Scotty was being a jerk and locked me out of the bathroom. I only leaked a little bit.”
“Oh. I wonder how long this is for then?” Brad questioned. By this time Brad’s diaper was taped on, and his jeans were being pulled back up. In his usual quiet manner, Tim just mumbled a reply.

The twins stayed in their room messing around on their computer, leaving Scotty, who they got on well with, to do his own thing, quite unpunished from his earlier crime. A few hours had passed when Brad got up from his seat announcing “I could probably use a poop.”
“Okay,” Tim replied, not yet feeling any need himself. But to Tim’s surprise Brad wasn’t heading for the bathroom at all; he was standing a meter from the door, knees slightly bent and a look of strained concentration on his face as he looked across the room at the opposite wall. “You’re going to use your diaper?” he asked surprised.
“Yeah. Dad didn’t say we could use the toilet, did he?” Brad reasoned.
“I think we’re allowed!” Tim told his brother, who seemed not to notice as he went back to the straining. After about a minute more straining and heavy breathing, Brad was clearly about to have some success as Tim could hear muffled farts from his brother’s rear. As his knees subconsciously bent a little further, Brad overcame the tightness of his snug diaper and his round mouth and wide eyes painted a picture of surprise at the new feeling. Tim watched on in disbelief as Brad pushed the last few bits out, standing back up straight now.
“That’ll teach dad to punish me for your mistake,” Brad concluded as he made his way back to the computer to sit with his brother.
“I didn’t do it on purpose. Anyway why do you just poop your diaper?” Tim questioned, Brad now sitting in the mess. “Can I smell it?” he asked, interested.
“You sure can.” Brad stood up and turned around so his butt was at Tim’s eye level and just in front of his face. Tim moved forwards so his nose was almost touching his brother’s jeans, and took a few sniffs.
“It doesn’t really smell,” Tim concluded. “What did it feel like?”
“I don’t know, it wasn’t gross or anything. Just a bit weird.”

It wasn’t too long before their dad came in, announcing that since he hadn’t seen either of them go to the toilet, it was probably time for a change and that he was going to help them out. The twins, sensing that this was no time for argument, went along with it. Brad was first, and he lowered his jeans to expose the diaper and lay down on the bottom bunk. His dad untaped it and pulled down the front, of course discovering the mess Brad had made. Although surprised at seeing his first dirty diaper in more than ten years, their dad made no fuss realizing it was his mistake for not setting any rules. Tim meanwhile watched on unfazed as Brad’s poopy odor filled the room, his dad doing a professional job of cleaning up with some baby wipes. Soon the job was done, and Brad was pulling his jeans back over a brand new diaper as Tim took his position where his twin had been moments before. His dad untaped and folded down the diaper, this time visibly surprised by the fact that the diaper was only a little wet and not dirtied as he had been prepared for. “Well this is unusual Tim, I was expecting another smelly job here,” his dad reported. Tim stayed silent, a little embarrassed at having his dad see something this private. He finished up, and left the twins to their computer game.
“You know we’re going to have to get Scotty for this,” Brad decided aloud, and he shared the plan with his brother.

Meanwhile as predicted Tim’s bowels were about ready for some action of their own. Pleased he’d managed to hold on until after the change and spare himself the embarrassment of having his dad clean up afterwards, Tim squatted to the floor and sat on his heels, starting the process with only a little effort then standing up as the poop was leaving his butt. He then sat back at the computer, shifting around in the seat to make the mess comfortable to sit in. Deciding it was just too gross Tim asked “would you change me Brad, this is disgusting.”
Brad laughed at his brother’s discomfort and followed him to the bed where his dad had changed them both just moments before. Brad pulled his brother’s jeans down a little and untaped the diaper. “My God, you stink, Tim!” he announced to his twin, who didn’t need the reminder.
“Not as bad as you did.” Brad carried out the change, not at all put off by wiping poop from his brother’s butt and crotch which looked identical to his. He did the job gently and even finished off with some powder before taping up a new diaper.
“Done.”
“Thanks, Brad,” Tim said, feeling slightly better.
“Man that was really sick, you have a disease!” his brother joked.

Sunday soon became Monday, and though school was out for Spring Break, the boys’ father had to work. The twins and their undiapered brother lazed around playing video games in Scott’s room well in to the evening. This was when the twin’s plan was to come into force – still not pleased at being diapered for a second day, they were going to inflict the same punishment on Scott. Scott’s insides were a well oiled machine, and their family joked that you could time any activity around Scott’s evening visit to the bathroom. The twins had decided that this, coupled with their dad being out at work until later, was a perfect opportunity to get their revenge.
“Erm, I’ll be back in a minute guys,” Scott told them as he got up ready to leave the room.
“No you don’t, Scotty,” Brad said with a smile.
“You’re not going anywhere little dude,” Tim added. Brad pinned him down to the bed as Tim pulled his jeans to his ankles, and produced one of Scott’s own unfolded diapers, which he then slid under his butt and taped on tightly. Brad then lifted Scott off the bed as Tim pulled his jeans back up.
“Now. Where were you off to?” Brad asked Scott who was still completely surprised at what had just happened and at what he was now wearing. Scott felt like a complete baby and sat back down with the twins, humiliated, but convinced that he would take the diaper off and go to the bathroom as soon as their dad arrived.

The boys carried on as before, the twins becoming increasingly aware of little Scott’s discomfort, as all of his energy was concentrated on not making a mess of the stupid diaper like a baby. This soon became a little too much for the guy and he stood up ready to make a run for the bathroom. The twins, however, had been prepared for this and Brad grabbed his little brother by the middle and started to squeeze him in a tight hug which would surely worsen the situation for the little guy. Sure enough, a now familiar muffled fart and slight crinkling noise told them that their job was done – Scott had started to poop his diaper. They both watched as Scott stood between them, now pushing defiantly to finish the job. When it was clear that this had been done, the twins forced him down on the bed so the mess spread around his little butt, both acutely aware of the unfamiliar smell of their thirteen-year-old brother’s poop. Tim, soon feeling a little bad for his brother who must feel as gross right now as he had himself yesterday, offered to change Scott out of the stinky diaper. “Come on Scotty, joke’s over, I’ll help you get that thing off,” he said leading his sniffling little brother to the twins’ room.

Not a word was spoken about the incident to their father when he returned later that evening, all three of the teenagers unusually tucked up quietly in bed. Noticing the smelly pail in the bathroom, he changed the bag after taking a peek inside. Surprised to see Scott’s diaper, easily distinguished from the other two by the prints, the dad took a quick sniff at it, balled up as expertly as the others in the pail. Very much taken aback by the obvious dirty state of his youngest’s poopy diaper, he concluded that from now on all three of his kids would need to wear diapers.

 

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PJ, 2006.
Please mail me to let me know that you read the story, and if you have time to let me know what you thought. [email protected]