Name: Whitehorse
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This story is mostly true and based on an important event in my childhood.
My story begins when I was 11. I had a severe ear infection and the doctor decided I needed to have a mastoidectomy (a type of surgery) to remove the infection. A few months earlier I suddenly got curious about wearing diapers. I remember Gumby cartoons where Gumby went through a machine that turned him into a baby. I remember a couple other cartoons with similar themes. For some reason they stuck in my head.
Our babysitter was a nice lady who had eight kids. The oldest were my age, but the youngest was only a year old. I think the younger boys still wore diapers at night, but nobody talked about it. One day I decided to sneak some diapers out of the babysitter’s house. Everyone else was in the living room watching TV so I went into the bedroom where the diapers were kept, pulled out several, and walked into the bathroom. There I stuffed the diapers in my pant legs and shirt in the most inconspicuous way I could. Then I walked into the living room and told the babysitter I was going home to play in my fort ( I lived only two doors down.)
When I got to the fort and pulled the diapers out I started to get a rush. I didn’t know what it was, but I think it was the first time in my life that I felt I was on a great adventure. I laid the cloth diapers out in several layers on a bench and then folded them properly. I dropped my pants and underwear and got up on the bench and sat on the diapers. It was at that point that I realized I didn’t get any diaper pins. But aside from being a little disappointed, I wrapped the cloth diapers around properly and then pulled my underwear up to hold them into place.
The physical sensations were absolutely exciting, pleasurable, and comfortable. I couldn’t have imagined that such a sensation ever could exist. I don’t remember having an erection at that time as I didn’t know what an erection was. All I knew was that for the first time in my life I was truly satisfied. I laid there for about an hour reflecting on my good fortune when I started to get up so I could go in the house and go pee. Then it occurred to me that babies pee in their diapers, so I thought I might try it.
At first it was hard to get the pee to come out. There’s something about years of being potty trained that the body finds it difficult to untrain. After lifting my butt in the air while still laying prone on my back, I was able to let a little out. The warm wet feeling only made me that much more comfortable, to my surprise. After reflecting on the comfort of the warm wet feeling, my sphincter muscle finally let go and I flooded the diaper. I remember looking on as a wet spot formed over where it soaked through, then the wet spot got bigger and yellow.
I started to panic, wondering what I would do with the wet underwear. But I decided I would deal with that later. After a while, my mom got home from work so I took the diaper and wet underwear off and stuffed them behind the ivy in the fence, and forgot all about them.
So several months later, just a few days prior to going to the hospital I was told to drink lots of milk and eat ice cream. I also had to take some medicine.
Two nights before going to the hospital I wet the bed. I hadn’t wet the bed but just a couple times since I was about five. I didn’t think anything about it. I had completely forgotten about my diaper adventure earlier. My mom looked concern when I pointed out the bed was wet, but she didn’t complain. I had to strip the sheets, open the windows to air out the bed, and later make the bed over myself.
That afternoon, after school, the kids from the neighborhood would get together to play tag football in the street. We always were playing games like hide and seek, tag, tag football, riding bikes, playing with GI Joes, and jumping off the roofs of our houses. We had a great time. But that afternoon while playing tag football I suddenly got the urge to go pee. Normally I could hold it until the end of the game and go later. Well, I held it, but not for long. Patrick was getting ready to hike the ball when he noticed my pants were suddenly getting wet. I looked at Patrick, looked down at my pants, looked at Patrick again, and ran for the house. Patrick had strict parents and wasn’t quick to make fun of people who weren’t feeling well. He also knew about my ear infection and upcoming surgery.
I ran into the house, finished going pee, changed by pants, and went back out to play. Patrick was concerned but I just laughed it off and we went back to playing tag football.
When my mom got home from work she asked why my pants were wet. I told her and she gave me that concerned look again. And I went off to do my homework and watch cartoons.
The next morning I woke up to a wet bed again. I remember thinking it was odd that I would suddenly wet the bed and do it two nights in a row. I had already forgotten about wetting my pants the day before. When mom came in and saw the bed, she said, “David, if you end up having to wear diapers I’m going to have to put you in a nursing home when you get out of the hospital.” I was caught completely off-guard by the comment. I looked at her and just wondered what might make her say something like that. I then turned around and stripped the bed and didn’t give it another thought.
Later that morning I got some toys and a change of clothes to take with me to the hospital. Nobody told me just how serious the operation was. In fact, I wasn’t told anything about any of what was going to happen to me. My whole situation was being arranged by my parents and doctors. I only saw the doctors for a few minutes at a time as they went whizzing through the examination room.
When we got to the hospital my mom, step-dad, younger sister and I went up to check out the room. The first comment my stepfather made was, “look at that stack of diapers by the bed, David. They’re for you.” It did look like a stack of diapers, but I figured he was kidding as he often did and that they were really towels for cleaning up spills and stuff. Nobody said anything to me about wearing diapers, other than my mother’s quick comment earlier. I still didn’t believe they would make me wear diapers being 11 years old.
The nurse told me to go into the bathroom and change into a gown. My stepfather and sister went out to the waiting room. When I stepped into the bathroom my mother told me I should come out with just the hospital gown and no underwear on. I thought that was a bit strange and suddenly felt a tinge of fear that someone was going to see me naked. But I did what was asked and came out with just the gown on, and a pile of clothes in my hands.
I asked whether I was going to be naked for my stay here and the nurse said, “no, you’ll be wearing hospital clothes while you’re here.” I felt relieved. After taking a urine sample, checking my pulse, and putting a stethoscope up to my chest, I was asked to get on the bed. My mother was next to me and held my hand. At first I thought she was feeling fear about the operation and my safety. Then the nurse grabbed one of those “towels” from the stand by my bed and placed it between my ankles. Then she lifted the gown, which I quickly pushed back down and asked what she was doing.
We’re getting you dressed for your stay here, David. I still didn’t get it. She lifted the gown again, rolled me on my side, and slid the “towel” down under my butt. I was really confused. What did they need a towel under my butt for? Then she pulled one end of the towel up between my legs and used diaper pins to fasten them around my waist. It was only at that time that I realized I was actually having a diaper put on me. I was in a state of shock. I trusted the nurse and my mother, and they went and put a diaper on me. Then the nurse pulled out a pair of plastic pants and slipped them up over the diaper.
Suddenly I remembered my diaper adventure a few months earlier. I remembered the pleasure and sensation. A big smile suddenly came across my face as I realized that someone else had put a diaper on me and I didn’t even ask for it. The nurse and my mom were now the ones who were surprised. They expected a fight, now that I look back. They certainly didn’t expect me to cooperate. The nurse called to a couple of orderlies who were standing outside the door and that I didn’t notice until then, and told them everything was fine, and they left.
My mom then told me that I would be wearing diapers in the hospital because I had been wetting my bed and my pants for the past couple days. She pointed out to me that there were straps on the bed for tying me down if I didn’t cooperate. But if I cooperated, I wouldn’t have to be tied down. I smiled at her and told her I have no problems wearing the diapers. “They’re just for the hospital stay,” I said, “and I wouldn’t want to be wetting their bed any more than they want me to wet it.” I didn’t expect that I was going wet the diapers either, as it was just inconceivable to me. I would wet them if they were my diapers. That’s one thing, but someone else’s, no way.
My mom stayed for a couple more hours but eventually had to leave because my sister was getting restless. I told her I was fine, and off she went. The nurse came in and asked me if I was thirsty. I was, so she brought me a huge glass of ginger ale with a straw. I found a TV show to watch, and spent a couple hours watching TV and sipping on several glasses of ginger ale. I don’t remember what was on TV, because I was too busy thinking how happy I was to be wearing a diaper and for the nurse to put it on me. It was in the middle of the day, but sitting still and watching TV from a reclining position put me to sleep for about two hours.
When I woke up I had to go pee very bad. I could never remember my bladder being so full. But by then I had an IV in my arm and couldn’t get up. I pressed the button for the nurse and she came right in. In an urgent voice I told her I had to go to the bathroom. She walked over to get the IV out of my arm, but it was too late. I let go and peed for what seemed minutes. At first I forgot I had the diaper on, which was why I was panicking. But then the diaper started getting wet and warm.
I was filled with all kinds of emotions at once. I was panicked from being in a strange place and having to go to the bathroom real bad. I was suddenly remembering the joy of wearing diapers. I was feeling wet and guilty for wetting in the hospitals clothes. And I was feeling relieved in my bladder and wondering when it was going to stop. Fortunately the nurse understood. She didn’t take the IV out, but put her hand on my shoulder and said, “It’s OK. You’re not the first 11 year old boy to wet in a diaper.” Thank God she said that. That took away the guilt. The diaper took away my filled bladder. And I was left feeling happy that I had wet my first diaper without having any control over it.
Soon other nurses came in, my gown went up, the plastic pants went down, the pins came off, and a really soggy diaper was hauled away. One nurse reached over to my diaper stack, shoved a clean diaper under my butt, spread some kind of cream around my "peepee" and on the side of my legs, sprinkled some scented powder in the same area, and then quickly brought the diaper up and pinned it into place. Up came the plastic pants, and down went my gown. The whole procedure took less than a few minutes. The nurses really had their practice, and from that I gathered I wasn’t the only person in the hospital wearing diapers.
Later on my mother came back to visit. Apparently the nurse had told her about my diaper wetting. Mom came to the side of the bed and held my hand and said, “I hope you understand this is for your own good.” I then reminded her of what she said about putting me in a nursing home if I had to wear diapers. I told her that I don’t mind wearing diapers, but I don’t want to go to a nursing home. I would never forgive her if she sent me there. My mom apparently changed her view since earlier that morning. She told me that she wouldn’t send me to a nursing home and that if I had to wear diapers, she would learn to deal with it. That took a load off my shoulders. The rest of the evening she just hung around reading and talking to the nurses.
Right before she left I had to go pee again. This time I didn’t even try to fight it. I peed in the diapers. My mom must have been able to tell that I just wet my diapers as she instinctively put her hands under the sheets and under the plastic pants. “You’re wet,” she said. “I know. I just wet.” Mom went out and talked to the nurse, and when she came back in my mom reached for a clean diaper from the diaper stack. She then smiled at me, pulled up my gown in a very gentle way, pulled down my plastic pants, unpinned my wet diaper, rolled me on my side, and replaced the wet diaper with a dry one. She then rubbed some cream in my private areas, sprinkled what I then noticed was baby powder, and gave me a kiss on my cheek.
She then pulled up the diaper, pinned it in place, pulled up my plastic pants, and pulled the sheet over me. She didn’t even pull the gown down. I had never had such a warm feeling with my mother before. I loved her so much that I thought I was looking at an angel from Heaven. The nurses were smiling and commending my mother for doing such a good job. It was a very special moment, not only for me, but for my mother and the nurses, too, or so it seemed.
Mom left for the night, the nurse came in and did something to the IV bottle, and I was out cold.
When I woke up the next morning there was a hand coming under the sheet reaching for my diaper. Before I could wake up, two nurses were removing a wet diaper and putting on a dry diaper. I was very happy and woke up to breakfast and cartoons. Before I could eat people were checking me out, the doctor came in and said a few things to the nurses and then left. I was given a light breakfast and was told I was going to get a suppository to prepare me for surgery. I was confused because I thought a suppository had something to do with the bank. Before I could wet my diaper again, the nurses came in and removed it and asked me to go pee in a jar in the bathroom. I did, and came back out to get on the bed. This time I was told to lay on my stomach. “What on Earth for?” I was thinking. About five minutes later my gown is lifted up and something is shoved right up my butt. I quickly turned over with a scowl on my face and strong arms pressed me back down until the finger was removed.
“We told you you were going to have a suppository”, the nurse said. That’s when I found out what a suppository was. I asked what it was supposed to do. “It’s to help you go poop before the operation,” the nurse replied. Then they proceeded to put my diaper back on. As they were walking out I told the nurse to not go too far in case I was ready to go poop. I didn’t want to go in the diaper. She said she would be close by. So I watched TV for about 15 minutes when something started feeling different inside. I figured the suppository was starting to work so I paid attention to what my body was telling me so I could press the call button quick and get the diaper off. I turned on my side just enough to put the button in my hand when ploop, it was done. I was completely in a state of shock. I just rolled on my back and closed my eyes.
About five minutes later a nurse came in to check on me. I don’t know what she did, because I wouldn’t open my eyes. I was so embarrassed. Next thing I know a bunch of nurses are in the room, my gown goes up, plastic pants go down, the diaper is unpinned, and this time me legs are hoisted over my head, or so it seemed with my eyes closed. After that I felt warm rags wiping my butt, a fresh diaper put under me, cream getting smeared, baby powder being sprinkled, the diaper coming back and getting pinned, the plastic pants coming up, and finally my gown was pulled down and the covers were put over me. I never opened my eyes. In fact, they stayed shut for a while until I heard my mother’s voice and felt her hand on mine.
She must have known what happened, but she didn’t say anything. She did tell me things like I was going to get some presents when I came out of surgery and other stuff. But I was still not talking to myself, and really didn’t care what anybody else had to say.
Eventually the IV was changed and I went into surgery. It’s funny, I woke up in the operating room. I could only move my eyelids. I was heavily sedated. I saw what must have been a 3 feet long hypodermic needle being inserted in my arm. When I saw it going in the thought occurred to me that it was going to go right through my shoulder and they would miss me entirely. I remember wetting my diaper then, I was so frightened.
When I finally came to, the surgery had been successful and I had a dry diaper on. The first thing I remembered then was that I was wearing a diaper and that I was very happy wearing it. The next couple days of recuperating I wet in my diapers all I could, since I knew it wasn’t going to last much longer. I really got quite good at it. I had the nurses doing double time. But they didn’t seem to mind. In fact, as I think back on it, I believe they enjoyed changing my diapers because I was so easy to get along with. One day the doctor came in to check on my healing ear. He pulled back the bandage and then asked the nurse to go get his tools. My mother and stepfather happened to be there at that time. I felt a long slithery feeling inside my skull and the doctor pulled out a rubber band about 3 inches long. The doctor was a little disgusted, but my stepfather said, “Now that explains everything!” giving me a big wink as though my brain was held together with rubber bands.
I was told I would be going home the next day. And I was looking forward to it in some ways because I had a huge pile of new toys right next to my bed that I was anxious to play with. I thought the diapers were great and was going to miss them, but I had to get on with life.
The next day I woke to a wet diaper, and I didn’t do it on purpose. That was a little disconcerting to me as I didn’t mind wetting diapers when I wanted to, but I didn’t like the idea of wetting when I didn’t want to. The nurse told me it was probably the medicine I was taking, and that it will wear off soon. I took comfort in her words and after she changed my diaper I did my best to hold back. Mom came to get me not too long after being changed. The nurse told her about the wetting and she gave my mom a stack of the diapers and plastic pants to take home for nights. They figured I would need to wear them until I regained total control. I didn’t mind at all. I changed out of my dry diaper and put on my regular clothes again. It felt really strange having plain underwear on.
Since I had already emptied my bladder in the diaper I didn’t feel the urge to go before leaving the hospital. And for breakfast I had a large glass of orange juice with my cereal and milk. I was wheeled down to the front desk in a wheel chair with my mom, sister, and stepdad. When we got to the front desk I felt like standing and walked over to stand next to my mother while she signed papers. Suddenly I noticed my pants were getting warm and wet and I looked down to see what was happening. My first thought was that I was standing too close to a fountain or something. It didn’t take long to realize I was peeing my pants and grabbed my “peepee” as fast I could and in a loud and startled voice called, “Mom!” My mother quickly saw that I had peed my pants and asked for the nearest bathroom. She put me in the wheel chair and wheeled me down with my hand on my peepee. After finishing in the toilet I asked my mother what I should do. After hearing some muffled voices outside the door, she told me to open the door and put a gown on over all my clothes.
I did this and we went to a room nearby where a nurse started removing my clothes and putting them in a plastic bag. Because I had this huge bandage on my head, I couldn’t bend up and down very easy. She then set me up on an examination table and out of nowhere pulled out a diaper and plastic pants. My mom told me I could take a bath when I got home, but the diaper would keep me from peeing all over the car, since traffic was pretty heavy and slow. I couldn’t put my wet clothes back on, so my mother said just sit in the wheel chair and we’ll wheel you to the car with you clothes in your lap. Nobody would see that I was wearing a diaper.
We made it to the car and I was quite surprised to see the huge stack of diapers and plastic pants being loaded in between me and my sister. Apparently they wanted to be sure I had enough. Eventually we got home, but by then I was wet again. Everybody else was looking to my reaction, but when I showed that it didn’t bother me, it didn’t bother them either. As I got out of the car, all I had on was a diaper, tennis shoes, and a shirt. Patrick had been nearby playing football, and in a friendly gesture threw the ball across the street saying, “David, catch!” First off, I didn’t hear what he said because I had a big bandage around my ears. And second, I was holding a bag in my hands to hide my diaper. The football hit me in the side of the head. Since none of us could tell whether or not any damage was done, mom told me to get back into the car and she and I went back to the hospital.
By then I was soaked and before the doctor could see me, the nurse changed my diaper again. It was at that point that I realized that I really did want to wear diapers for the rest of my life. I didn’t know what it was, but I was hooked and I really liked being both incontinent and wearing bulky cloth diapers. The doctor checked my ear and everything was fine. So mom and I went back home. My diaper was wet again by the time we got home. This time when I got out, Patrick walked over to the car and apologized. I don’t think he understood the nature of surgery any more than I did before I went to the hospital. One thing was for sure, he’d get a licking if he didn’t apologize. It was then that Patrick saw me wearing diapers. He looked up at me, back down to the diapers, and back up to me.
I didn’t say a word, and neither did he. I had to get into the house so I started walking in. This was the first time I had actually had to walk in the diapers and they felt very different to say the least. It felt like my butt was five feet behind me moving 10 feet back and forth. This feeling was amplified because my friends and neighbors were now gathered around and watching me walk into the house with a diaper on. But as I was walking in I quickly got a sense that I would be accepted by everybody just the way I was. After that, I didn’t hesitate to wet in my diapers at all, not that I was sure I could do something about it if I wanted to. I didn’t want to know, so I never found out. Eventually wetting became the norm and so did the diapers. Mom changed me for a while after getting home until my bandages were removed. Then I insisted on changing my diapers myself. My friends got used to me waddling when playing games and other than a few isolated instances over the years, I didn’t have much problems.
Today, I’m 43 and still wearing diapers. I don’t poop in them, ...very often, but I still enjoy wetting in them. And I still wear mostly cloth diapers with plastic pants and only wear paper diapers during the most formal of occasions. I had to wear diapers to school, too, but that is a different story.