Tickle and Diaper

 

            My name is Michael. Some years ago I had a close friend: James. My friends and I called him Jim or Jimmy. When I was 11, he invited me to stay on his house all day. We were on our summer vacation.

 

            My dad did drop me on James’ house, on his way to work, at about 8:00 of the morning. His mom opened me. She told me that she had wake-up James a few minutes ago, but he has still in his bed.

            “Would you mind to call him again, Mike? He always sleeps again if you don’t keep calling him. I’m going to have your breakfast ready in a few minutes.”

            I got upstairs, called softly at his door. Nobody answered, so I came in. There was Jim, sleeping. He was a nice boy: brownish hair, green eyes, fair skin. He was thin and altough he was about my age, was a bit taller. I did envy his hair: mine was brownish too, but his was silky, soft. Mine was wavy and unmanageable and tangles every day.

Sleeping he looks so peaceful... I decided to finish that peaceful look. I started to slide down his sheet. I wanted to tickle his feet. He was wearing a white cotton t-shirt and a pajamas short. Uh? His shorts did look swollen, like if he was... I touched with my finger. Yes! He was wearing diapers! Um. Maybe he was incontinent. I rocked him.

            “Mmhh. What’s happening?” he opened his eyes “Mike. Hi. It’s too early.” he rubbed his eyes and yawned.

            “It’s 8:15, sleeping beauty. Your mom want us downstairs,” I said.

            “Okay. I will put on...” he stopped, his hands on the waist of the shorts. He blushed like a tomato. I tried to looked casual, opening the curtains of the window and watching the trees on the yard, and asked:

            “Are you incontinent?”

            “No.” he whispered.

            “Why the diapers?” I grinned “Are your parents punishing you?”

            In school I was told about a boy who was punished by wearing diapers. Willy, I thought was his name, told me: “His parents don’t let him go to the toilet. He had to pee and poo on the diaper.” I thought that was so gross...

            “No. They don’t know I... You wouldn’t understand...” he look confused and embarrased “Oh, hell. Mike, I...I like to wear it.”

            “You like it? Why?” It was interesting.

            “It’s comfortable... I don’t know.” he raised his arms “I simply like it. Do you like to put on one?” He looked hopeful.

            “No! No, thank you.” He looked dissapointed “Jim, do you...do you pee in there?”

            “Echh! Noo! Are you nuts? It’s... disgusting.”

            His expression was funny. I laughed. Jim saw me and began to laugh too. Then his mom knocked the door:

            “Boys, what are you doing there? Your breakfast is getting cold. Hurry!”

            “We are on our way, mom.” he shouted. “Mike...”

            “You will not tell anybody, Mike. Will you? Please, Mike...”

            I had never seen that kind of look. His eyes were begging at me. I saw tears about to shed.

            “Tell about what, Jim? I don’t understand.” I did poke him in his shoulder.

He looked relieved and smiled.

            “Thank you, Mike. Thank you very much. Now I have to change my clothes...”

            I put my hand on the knob of the door. I grinned again an turned toward him.

            “I change my mind, Jim. I won’t tell anybody...on condition...”

            His expresion was serious.

            “What condition?”

            “Take off your shirt and your short. I want to see you on your diaper.”

            He blushed again.

            “It’s a joke?” He realized that it was no joke, sighed and took off his clothes.

            He looked nice. In fact he looked cute. A thin, seminude boy, with a white diaper not too thick.

            “Turn around.” I said. He did it.

            “What? You liked?” He was upset.

            “Sure. Now lay on your bed.”

            He lay. He looked... How to explain it? Very vulnerable.

            “Lay on your belly.” I said

            Mouth down, the diaper made his bottom looked bigger. I slap him on his bottom.

            “Are you happy now?” He was about to cry.

            “Yes. You can dress now.” I went out. Jim slammed the door. He was not mad, he was my friend.

 

            When he got down and saw me, he blushed again, but he had too a timid smile.

            He sat on front of me. We began to giggle. His mom and dad looked at us and shook their head. We had eggs, canadian bacon, bread and chocolate with milk. Every time we saw each other we giggle. I don’t know why we didn’t choke.

            “Well, boys. I don’t know what happened, but I wish I were you. Good-bye, Mike. Good-bye, Jimmy.” said his father. He uncombed the already uncombed hair of Jimmy.

            “Good-bye, dad.”

            “Good-bye, Mr. Williams.

            Later, his mother left, too, but first she reminded both of us of all the security rules, emergency numbers, the neighbor, Mrs. Johannson, will help you if something happens, don’t open to strangers, etc.. She kiss him in the cheek. When she saw his expression and my smile she kiss me in the forehead. Then Jim smiled.

            “Good-bye, Mike. Good-bye, Jimmy. Behave yourself. Okay?”

            “Yes, mom. Good-bye.”

            “Good-bye, Mrs. Williams.”

           

            We sat in front of T.V., Jim was almost as I founded him. He was wearing a t-shirt and a denim short. He was barefoot. I uncombed his hair.

            “Cut it out, Mike.”

            “Your dad did it, and you liked.”

            “You say that because you envy me. Surely your dad never uncomb yours.” We began to fight. While we were fighting, I knew he was right: I envy him. I told my father not to uncomb my hair, because it took a long time to get it combed again.

            We stop fighting to watch a Batman cartoon and later fighted again. He was stronger and faster than me and soon he pinned me down, as always. He was astride over me, holding my hands against the floor.

            “Give up, Mike.”

            “First dead.”

            “I will put my knee on your chest,” he grinned.

            I remember that. It was painful.

            “Okay, I gave up.”

            “Say that I’m better than you.”

            “You’re better than my, but I’m brighter than you.”

            He released my hands.

            “Well, in that you’re right.” He stood. I helped him to study math for the final exam. He told me that, without my help he would have failed the test.

            We sat and changed to a boring sci-fi series.

            “Jimmy, are you wearing diapers now?” He blushed again.

            “No. I only wear them at night.”

            “You’re incontinent, aren’t you?”

            “NO!, I’m not. I swear it.

            “Had you pee on the diaper?”

            “I told you I didn’t. But...” he saw at me “I tried one time.”

            “And?”

            “I cannot.” he smiled “I was ‘closed’” We both laughed.

            “Had you worn them in the street, under your clothes?”

            “No. I’m not crazy.” he laughed again “I’m not like you.” He pinned me down against the sofa. “Say you’re crazy.”

            “Sure I’m.” I laughed too.

 

            Later, we began to yawn. The T.V. was boring and it was early.

            “Mike, do you want to take a nap?” he was rubbing his eyes.

            “Why not?”

            He made me stand and move a table in front of the sofa. He pulled the lower part of the sofa and turned it into a bed. I took of my shoes and lay mouth down, same as Jimmy. From time to time we opened our eyes to see if the other had his eyes opened, too. When we surprised ourselves we giggled. Finally, we fell asleep.

           

            After our nap, we went to the kitchen and made several peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We get a bottle of soda and took that to his room where we read comics while eating. Later we took our bicycles (in the morning I put mine in his garage) and took a ride, but we didn’t see any of our friends, and it was too hot outside.

            Back in his house, we watched more T.V. Jimmy saw me:

            “Do you want to play something fun?” he smiled.

            “Sure. What is it?”

            “It’s called ‘Poker and tickle.’ ”

            “How do you play it?” I asked, but I had an idea of it.

            “Have you played ‘Strip Poker’?”

            “Yes, I had.” we both giggled.

            “Well, it’s the same but the one that wins, has the right of tickle the other all the time he wanted.”

            “You want to use ‘the rack’. Don’t you?”

            “Yes, I want. Do you want to play?”

            “Jimmy Williams, you’re sick. Let’s play.”

           

            ‘The rack’ was a work of Jimmy. He had a comic where several men were put with his feet and hands on the rack as punishment. He like that, so he built his own rack. Two wooden posts united by another piece of wood with two semicircles sawed. You put your ankles there. Another piece with the same holes was then slid between the post, holding youe feet. The circles were big enough to accept your ankles, but small enough to prevent your feet from sliding out. There was a hole to insert a padlock, so you cannot take your feet out, until the one with the key agreed so. This thing can be screwed to holes in the floor of the basement, so once in there, you were really a prisoner. Someday, I asked Jimmy why he didn’t built the upper piece to hold ankles and wrists at the same time, but it looked as something he don’ t want to do. He looked a bit scared. Jimmy like to use his rack to tickle the feet of his friends (his friends also like to tickle his feet). We used a lot of instruments to tickle: feathers, toothbrushes, paint brushes, but we thought the best were our fingers.

            I remember myself bursting in laugh, as Jimmy tickling my feet, and another friend holding my hands. Feeling the tickles and knowing I cannot make nothing to stop them. It was an incredible feeling.

           

            Jimmy got a deck of cards. We began to play: he lost the first game. We agreed that socks would count as one, so he took them both. I lost the second. We began to giggle. I felt the excitement in my belly. He lost the third, losing his shirt, but I fail in fourth and five, so I had to take off my pants. I regreted have been using my multicolor striped boxers.

            “He. He. Nice boxers, eh, Mike. Prepare to take them off.”

            “You can lose, too.”

            I thought I have won the sixth game, but Jimmy show me his hand. He won. I could not believe it.

            “Whoaa! Mike goes to the rack!” he laughed. I stood.

            As a child, I had to undress completely, with other children watching several times. Playing, like that moment, in the school gym or for medical check-ups. But I had always a feeling on my belly.

            I began to giggle again. I unbuttoned my boxers and let them slided down.

            “Look everyone! A nude boy! Look!” Jimmy was shouting and laughing.

            It was not so unpleasant. It was the first time Jimmy saw me naked, but it was not the first time I undressed. It was exciting! I knew my body was normal: I was thin, tall enough, my legs and arms were somewhat skinny, my skin was fair, and according to my last medical check-up, my genitals were okay. There was hot, but I felt cold. Jimmy walked around me, laughing. He pointed to the rack.

            “Put your feet there.”

            I sat in the floor and put my feet in the holes. Jimmy slided the upper piece, closing it. Every time I heard the knock of the wood, I felt a shiver. There I was, naked and a prisoner. One part of me felt very vulnerable, other felt excitement.

            “Lay down and stretch back your arms.”

            “What?”

            “I forgot to tell you: in the game you tie the loser’s arms.”

            “It’s not fair!” Fair or not he made me lie down, tie together my hands over my head and stretch the rope and tie it to the leg of a worktable. I tried to fight, but it’s very difficult when your feet are fixed. I cannot move: I was stretched. I saw my body, held by ankles and wrists, immobilized and vulnerable.

            “You look very good, Mike. Are you ready?” He was kneeling at my side and had a evil grin.

            “Noo!”

            “Well, I don’t care. Let the tickle begin!”

            He began tickling my body: chest, armpits, sides, belly and soles. The laugh began. I twisted from side to side, I cannot stop laughing. The sensation was incredible. And I was unable to escape! He took a duster and rub my belly and soles lightly. I bursted into more laugh. My belly began to hurt and my eyes were on tears. Then he took my penis and rubbed it.

            “No, Jimmy! Not there!” He didn’t stop. In fact I really liked. Then my balls, he played with them. I jumped. The felt was unbearable. I had never felt something like that. My dick gets hard. He returned to my armpits and sides. His fingers were soft and fast. Then the belly.

           

             Then, I lost the control of my bladder: a spurt of urine jumped and fell over his and my body. It wet his legs and arms. I stop laughing immediately.

            “I...I’m sorry, Jimmy. Excuse me, please. I... I cannot avoid it...”

            “How...how disgusting! Echh!”

            “I’m sorry, Jimmy! Really!”

            He went upstairs. I thought he was upset. When he comes back, he was grinning. He dried me and the floor with toilet paper.

            “Well, you’re a naughty boy, Mike!”

            “It wasn’t my fault! I cannot avoided, Jimmy!”

            “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”

            “Wha...what?”

            He took his hand to his back and showed me something white.

            “I’m going to diaper you!”

            “No, Jimmy! Please! Let me go!”

            Calmly, he unfold the diaper, slipped under by buttocks and between my legs, adjusted the front and fasted the adhesive tapes.

            “Ohhh! You looked cute!” He was taking revenge. I felt ashamed, a boy wearing a diaper and tied.

            “Where we are? Oh! In the tickling...”

            He began to tickle me again, merciless. I can only laugh and laugh until became breathless.

            With the duster he tickled all my body. Incredible! I felt my urine run again. I had never laugh so long and hard. When we were resting, I thought the diaper wasn’t really bad. It was comfortable, soft and warm. It wasn’t too thick, not even between my legs. And even though I had pee on it, didn’t felt like the mess I thought.

           

            Jimmy untied me and help me to stood. I was shaking.

            “Did you pee?” he asked me.

            “Yes.” I was ashamed.

            He took my hand and led me to his room.

            “I will change your diaper, Mike.”

            I was so tired, I didn’t argue.

            In his room, Jimmy opened his closet, lifted the floor, next the subfloor and from the entresol he took a box of “Depend Day/Night for Older Children/Early Teens.” He later told me that he used the entresol to hide some “private material”: All the things he didn’t want his parents to knew about them.

            “My cousin Erich got hepatitis last year. He got so weak, he didn’t use the toilet. I visited him later and saw he uses these in bed. When I bought them, I had to go to the other side of the city by bus, to a drugstore, hoping nobody recognize me.They put them in a big pink bag.” he explained me.

            He unfasted my diaper and took it out.

            “You only pee a little.”

            He rolled it, take another from the box, unfolded it, made me hold the front, put it between my legs and in my bottom and finally adjusted and fasten it. And of course he gave me a slap in my bottom. He made me laid in his bed and cover me with the sheet. I was very tired. He went down to got our clothes and hide ‘the rack’. He returned, undress, put himself a diaper and laid in bed. It was narrow for two. I felt his naked arm and leg next to mine. He tried to tickle my feet with his toes, but I fell asleep.

           

            After I woke up, we went down. He didn’t let me to take off the diaper or even dress until his mom was about to arrive. We went around in diapers. We made some sandwiches and ate them in the living room.

           

            Later, we took of our diapers and put them in a bag. Next day Jimmy would take the bag to a garbage container some blocks away his house, so his parents couldn’t find something. Naked, we played some minutes to ‘touch’. It was fun. We put on our clothes and sat to watch T.V. I took him by surprise, and sat on his legs while he was lying on his belly. I bended his legs and tickled his soles. We laughed a lot, until he managed to escape. His mother brought hamburgers. She allowed us to shower together before dinner.

            “But you should hurry, eh? And, please, no touch, boys.”

            We lathered each other, exploring our bodies. It felt okay the touch of the sponge on my groin.

            “You have big buttocks, Jimmy.” I smiled.

            Jimmy put a bunch of lather in my dick.

            “Just wanted to see how it looks.”

            We washed our hair of each other, too, and I, again, did envy his. With the lather, I modeled his hair like two horns. I showed him in the mirror.How we laughed!

            The mirror image could have win a prize on an exhibition: two naked boys, covered with lather, (nothing showing), one with the hair straight up, playing in the shower.

            We wrapped in towels and Jimmy’s mom made me wore some of his clothes. He didn’t use boxers, only boring white briefs.

            During dinner we were laughing and talking with his mom. Later my mom did pick me up.

            That night I had my first ‘wet dream’.

           

            Some days later, I returned his clothes and we made plans for our next visit.

            We visit each other several times and had great fun, but never as that day I discovered Jimmy liked to use diapers.