Bobby in NOLA

Summary: Eleven year-old Bobby in deep doo-doo.

For as long as he could remember, eleven-year-old Bobby loved the feel 
of thick diapers between his legs, and of late, hardly a night went by 
when he didn't rock himself to sleep, squirting a clear, sticky goo 
into his pinned up folded flannel blanket.

But, the last thing in the world he would have imagined was having his 
diapered butt squeezed into a highchair, and made to drink a chalky-
tasting liquid from a baby bottle. Yet there he was, and all he could 
do is watch his four year-old cousin practically bouncing off the 
walls, wearing only a T-shirt and a sagging Pull-up.

Bobby felt like knocking him upside the head when Mikey would come 
over, press his grimey hands on the highchair tray, and stand there 
making a mock pouting face with his lower lip;--yet, at the same time, 
he felt sorry for his little cousin, whom he'd seen get his bare butt 
paddled at least once or twice a day;--always for something stupid, 
Bobby thought.

So this time, instead of popping him in the head, Bobby just returned 
the pout with his lower lip, and gave Mikey a gentle kick in the nuts. 
His little cousin seemed amused by this, and once again pushed on the 
highchair tray, curled up his nose, and stuck out his tongue with a 
"ny-aah!"

Bobby felt like squirting him in the face with his plastic baby bottle, 
but instead, mirrored his cousin's snotty look, and thrust his foot up 
between Mikey's legs, holding it there while he danced on his toes, 
shrieking with laughter.

"Mikey!--I told you to get your butt in here!" bellowed his Mother from 
the kitchen, "it's time for your medication."

"His 'medication'," Bobby thought, remembering how his teachers at his 
old school wanted to have him put on a drug called Ritalin, only 
because he spent much of his class time gazing out the window while 
sucking his thumb. They said he had something called A.D.D., which 
Bobby thought was a load of crap;--he was just bored out of his mind; 
having to "co-operate", and expected to do what everyone else was 
doing.

What really riled his teachers though, was Bobby passing his drawings 
around the classroom--pictures depicting his teachers as hideous, 
reptilian-looking creatures with horns atop their heads;--and in 
especial, those of the Principal, a prune-faced old crone, who seemed 
to enjoy "disciplining" Bobby by pulling his pants tight against his 
butt, and smacking his behind with a "paddle" fashioned out of layers 
of cardboard held together with rubber bands.

At length, Mickey returned to the dining room a changed boy--literally: 
aside from the dull, glazed look in his eyes, his Mother had his butt 
pinned up in bulky diapers wrapped in rubber pants;--and the pout on 
his face was real this time, as the once keyed-up boy slumped in a 
chair and began sucking his thumb, now mirroring Bobby.

His Mother, Bobby's aunt Dolly, was to follow, carrying his other 
cousin, the two year-old Dietrick.

"You ain't gettin' out of that hichchair 'til you finish yr bottle, so 
stop suckin' yr thumb an' hurry-it up, or I'll get Miss Maudie to feed 
you," she drawled, plopping the fussy Dietrick in the playpen.

"If only she hadn't seen me," Bobby thought. He had been at his 
cousins' house less than a week, and already found himself in a heap of 
doo-doo. When the teachers at his old school finally gave up on him, 
his Mother, rather than send him to public school, decided to ship him 
off to New Orleans, where he was to attend a prep-school while staying 
with her sister.

This was supposed to "shape him up", and get him to behave like other 
boys his age, that is, to do what he was told, and maybe, just maybe, 
"cure" him of his fascination for wearing diapers. Little did she know 
that her Bobby was now sitting in a dozen-or-so wet, and soon to be 
messy ones at that.

Part 2

What Bobby regretted was something as innocent as lying in bed with a 
safety pin in his mouth; or so he thought. After a miserable first day 
at his new school, on the following morning he complained to his aunt 
of having a bad headache; telling her he didn't think he was up to 
going to school.

"Why don't you go back to bed then, baby...I'll come up in a bit an' 
take yr temperature," he remembered her telling him. Bobby's Mother 
must have said something to her sister about his diaper habit, because, 
to his astonishment, upon seeing the pin in his mouth, his aunt yanked 
down the covers, as stared as if in disbelief at Bobby's half-pinned up 
blanket over his already bulging hard-on.

"Oh me, oh my!" she exclaimed, "so you wanna act like a baby, huh?--I 
guess I got the wrong thermometer."

Bobby recalled this vividly, dreading that she was going to come back 
an stick an other thermometer up his butt (something his older sister 
used to do when playing "doctor"), but instead, his aunt surprised him 
by returning with a pacifier-thermometer (something he never knew even 
existed), and plunged it into his gaping mouth.

"There, baby, hold that under yr tongue for a minute or two...I'll have 
Miss Maudie give you a sponge-bath before she puts you in some of 
Dietrick's dee-dees, an' since you like yr diapers so much, baby Bobby 
can wear 'em to school tomorrow."

Bobby recalled her every word, and remembered how he began to sweat 
bullets at the mention of wearing diapers to school. His classmates 
already teased him for sucking his thumb, especially the jocks, who 
called him "baby" after being marched down to the Office to get his 
thumb treated with a terrible-tasting liquid from a little bottle 
labeled "THUM".

And on top of that, after Bobby flatly refused to "get down and do ten 
push-ups" in gym class for not counting the jumping-jack steps out 
loud, the jar-head instructor penalized the whole class;--making them 
do laps around the gym, resulting in Bobby getting his bare butt 
snapped with wet towels in the shower room by hairy jocks who were at 
least two years older than he.

(Bobby had started school early at the age of five, and because of his 
exceptional reading ability was allowed to by-pass second grade 
altogether.)

After about a minute and a half had passed, the digital pacifier-
thermometer sounded the tune, "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star", 
whereupon Ms. Maudie, an enormous Creole woman, didn't even bother 
taking it from his mouth and reading the temperature, but sponged off 
some beads of sweat dripping from Bobby's forehead.

"You's a hot one alright," she said, "Miss Dolly say her baby be 
naughty an' need to get his little butt spanked, so roll over onto dis 
here pillow; befo' I change deez sheets an' puts baby in his nappies."

Part 3

At length, Bobby rocked himself asleep in spite of his stinging 
backside. He remembered then how good rubber pants felt, even thought 
these were a bit on the tight side.

It had been a few years since he'd been able to sneak a pair of his 
baby brother's, which, incidentally, tipped off his older sister, who 
no doubt heard them crackling amidst the sound of creaking bed-springs 
from the next room, and one morning he'd awakened to find that his 
covers had been lifted above his upturned behind while his she stood 
across the hall, nonchalantly brushing her hair.

Although she never said anything directly to him about it, she liked to 
talk about seeing other boys his age in diapers, as a sort of not-so-
subtle "wink and nod", so to speak.

His peaceful dreams came to an abrupt end, however, and he began 
squirming on the plastic sheet as he now saw himself being sent off to 
his new school, clad only in his white, short-sleeved dress shirt with 
its clip-on black neck-tie; shiny black shoes and white socks; and 
about his bottom were what looked and felt like a dozen diapers pinned 
up inside a tightly-fitting pair of rubber pants, barely concealed by 
his shirt-tails which kept being blown upwards by the stiff, sideways-
swirling New Orleans winds; his backpack bumping his butt with every 
step as he ran to catch the Magazine Street bus;--its passengers a bevy 
of grotesque-looking creatures covered in tattoos, and body piercings 
jutting from practically every part of their faces; their hair in a 
wild array of pinks, greens and orange; all gawking at him while he had 
to sit on the knee of a giant of a Creole woman whose butt took up two 
side-facing seats in the front, and who kept calling him: "Baby...Baby, 
wake up now," said his aunt Dolly, pushing and patting his bottom, 
"time for baby's bottle," she drawled in her sing-song voice.

Bobby was parched, and even though it was a baby bottle, he eagerly 
quenched his thirst with the cold lemonade. "Finish yr bottle and then 
come down for lunch...we're goin' on a bus ride to get my medication 
an' some new diapers for you and Mikey."

Bobby nearly choked on his lemonade, and at once went to find some 
baggy pants to wear over his diapers, since Ms. Maudie promised him 
another spanking if he tried to take them off;--only she or his aunt 
could remove them if he had to "make doo-doo".

To his utter dismay, Bobby found that all of his pants were missing 
from the dresser, right down to the last stitch of underwear. Now 
starting to perspire again, and made his way downstairs, slipped past 
Mikey who was strapped into Dietrick's baby swing, and ran smack into 
Ms. Maudie, whose immovable frame sent him stumbling backwards, landing 
him on squarely on his padded posterior.

"I see de baby feel better now," she said, laughing, "c'mon, honey-
chil', let's gets you in your highchair."

His aunt came from the kitchen carrying a steaming bowl of gumbo and a 
bib. "Aunt Dolly!--what happened to all my pants? I...couldn't," cried 
Bobby, cut short by her tying the bib around his neck.

"Don't worry, Bobby," she laughed, "yr school pants are hanging right 
here in the closet; I pressed them for you this mornin', 'member? As 
for the rest of 'em, you won't be needin' 'em while you're staying 
here;--but, for our shopping trip this afternoon, I got a little 
surprise for you, so eat yr gumbo, or do you want Miss Maudie to feed 
you?"

Part 4

Bobby slurped the hot gumbo from his spoon, and looked on as Mikey was 
lifted out of the baby swing by Ms. Maudie;--his little cousin 
obviously subdued; again diapered like his baby brother;--and was 
stepped into a pair of short bib overalls which were cuffed at the 
legs, and where there once was a fly, the buttons had been removed and 
the fly sewn shut, making them look even more like toddlers' rompers.

Mikey stood there with his thumb in his mouth while Ms. Maudie buttoned 
up the bib and the sides at his hips, causing him to stick out his 
rear-end, and finally, after pulling his thumb from his mouth, replaced 
it with one of Dietrick's pacifiers, making the four year-old Mikey 
look even more like his two year-old brother, who was dressed in a 
similar fashion.

"Look Bobby!" exclaimed his aunt, "I made yr long bibs look just like 
Mikey's!--the girls'll be goin' wild over those cute bare legs of 
yours!"

Bobby had learned early on that his aunt Dolly was a little batty, but 
he couldn't believe she was going to drag him out dressed like his four 
year-old cousin, who in turn was dressed just like his two year-old 
brother.

He remembered that after lopping up his remaining gumbo with a chunk of 
French bread, he let out a loud fart, the odor of which reminded him of 
that morning, when he had to race off to the bathroom and jump on the 
pot, and, whatever it was he'd eaten the night before, practically 
exploded from his butt, spraying the bowl with a runny mess having the 
distinct smell of some bottom-feeder like shrimp, or crawdads (as they 
were called back home in Indiana).

Now sitting with his butt pinned up in diapers, he doubted if there was 
any way he could get out of them in time if this were to happen again.

Bobby then recalled the only time he could remember actually peeing his 
diapers, and when he could no longer contain the pressure, let go and 
began soaking them with what seemed like an endless warm stream of 
pee;--and if matters could get any worse, another runny load had quite 
uncontrollably shot from his butt, leaving him feeling like a real baby 
sitting in a puddle of doo-doo.

"C'mon, Bobby, let's see how baby looks in his new bibs," said his 
aunt, wiping his mouth with his bib. Once she removed the highchair 
tray, Bobby slid down from the seat, feeling the warm, slimy mess 
coating his butt as he stepped through the legs of the overalls.

"Yr cousin Mikey mus' wanna act like a baby too," said she, stooping 
down as she pulled them up his legs. "He jes' got his little butt 
spanked for pooin' his Pull-up again, so be sure an' tell me or Miss 
Maudie if...you...Bobby!" she exclaimed, now wrinkling her nose.

"I couldn't help it!--it just came out!" cried Bobby.

"So baby mus' want another spankin', huh?" she said, giving Bobby a 
"whap" on his behind.

"Miss Maudie, baby Bobby's been naughty again," said she, "paddle and 
powder his little behind real good this time, I'll be up in a minute to 
diaper him myself. I don' want no stinky-poohs ridin with me on the 
bus!"

Part 5

Another thing Bobby learned early on, was when his Father (who was 
assigned the task of "disciplining" him) took the belt to his bare 
behind;--and if he began to cry, it would only intensify his Father's 
rage and prolong the punishment.

But, if he kept quiet and looked dead serious, it had the effect of 
neutralizing his Father's anger, and the beating would usually stop 
after a single stroke of the belt.

So he remained while Ms. Maudie spanked his bare bottom with a paddle-
ball paddle; biting his lip with every stroke; his eyes welling up with 
tears as the pain intensified--but she wouldn't let up--even though it 
were impossible that his butt could've turned a brighter shade of red, 
and only after Bobby started kicking his legs and wailing like a baby 
did she bring down the final "smack" on his raised behind.

"Dere, baby be better now," drawled Ms. Maudie, plugging Bobby's 
whimpering mouth with a pacifier.

The baby powder did little to soothe his stinging backside, especially 
after she had him raise his knees, stretching his burning butt up even 
more while she smeared the powder up the crack of his behind. In this 
position, he saw his aunt bringing in a thick stack of diapers--a pile 
looking like about double the amount he was just wearing.

"Oo Lawdie!" she exclaimed, "looks like baby won't wanna be sittin' 
down for a while...let's give that little red butt o' yrs some 
paddin'."

After pulling the pillow out from under him, she plopped the pile on 
the plastic sheet, and with another "smack" on his butt, had him roll 
over while she opened a bottle of baby lotion.

"Let's get yr little wee-wee oiled up real good; since you wanna act 
like yr cousin Dietrick, these dee-dees ain't comin' off 'til baby's 
beddie-bye."

Part 6

For better or for worse, his aunt had Bobby carry a large tote bag as 
he and cousin Mikey waddled their way up to the bus stop. With the 
strap crossing from his left shoulder to his right hip, the bag, which 
contained her over-sized purse and plastic baby bottles filled with 
water, rested squarely over his butt, and while it hid his 
conspicuously padded behind, it bumped against his still smarting 
bottom with every step.

Needless to say, Bobby had mixed feelings about being paraded down the 
street in diapers, and dressed just like his four year-old cousin, who 
sucked his thumb while clutching his stuffed toy monkey.

One the one hand, his aunt had seen to it that his little wienie stood 
up and stayed up, and with his diapers pinned up so tightly, he felt on 
the verge of creaming them at any moment.

Adding to this sensation, was that he felt quite helpless in 
controlling his case of the "runs", and hadn't waddled more than a half 
a block before another watery fart shot from his butt.

He shuddered to think of how it would've felt if he {hadn't} had his 
butt packed in diapers, so for the first time he could remember, he 
actually {needed} them, for the time being at least, but nonetheless 
making him feel even more like a big baby.

Still, as "recalcitrant" as he was (that was what they called him at 
his new school), spankings or no spankings, Bobby wasn't keen on taking 
orders from anybody, and at once plotted his escape from his batty aunt 
Dolly.

Part 7

At the Magazine Street bus stop going uptown (opposite the direction of 
Bobby's school), stood one of his dream creatures holding a guitar 
case. It (he couldn't tell if it was a he or a she) had a shaved head, 
other than a green Mohawk which stood straight up like a scrub-brush.

Dressed in black from head to toe, it had whiskers like a cat, and its 
neck and arms were covered with tattoos, making the beast look like a 
giant iguana. Bobby scrunched his nose while staring open-mouthed at 
the numerous studs, hooks and rings stuck in its head, as if it were an 
almost human pin-cushion.

"Bobby!" exclaimed his aunt, giving him a swift "whop" on his behind, 
"it ain't po-lite to stare!" Bobby remembered blushing as the creature 
stared directly at his bulging crotch, having heard the unmistakable 
sound of his rubber pants getting smacked.

"You's a little old to be still pissin' on yrself, ain't-cha, baby?" 
the beast croaked, in a voice so raspy, Bobby still couldn't tell its 
gender.

"I'll thank you to mind your own, you..." his aunt Dolly fumed, 
"you...whatever yr s'posed to be...my babys' jus' ain't potty-trained 
yet."

Now deeply blushing, Bobby stared in astonishment as the creature stuck 
out its long, serpentine tongue, extending it practically to its chin, 
and in the center of the fleshy mass was embedded what appeared to be a 
studded pearl.

"It must be a girl," he remembered thinking for some odd reason.

Yet the most unnerving thing of all came when the bus slowed to a stop-
-Bobby once again having the tote bag slung over his shoulder--
following his aunt as she helped Mikey aboard the bus by lifting up the 
back of his short overalls, exposing his thick diapers between his 
legs, and just as Bobby released another runny load into his own; 
stepping upwards, he felt something hard wedged between his legs, and 
turning, he saw the she-beast with a ghastly grin, jabbing his butt 
with the neck of her guitar case, squishing the runny mess all the way 
up the crack of his sore behind.

The bag over his butt prevented him from batting it away, and it wasn't 
'til he reached the top step that she finally pulled it out from 
between his sticky butt-cheeks.

Once aboard, although he felt like whining like a baby who badly needed 
his diapers changed, Bobby bit his lip and stuck out his foot as the 
creature passed by him, sending the beast careening into the laps of 
school-girls in plaid dresses seated on the side-facing seats in the 
front of the bus.