Didee DiapeRS

 

 OF BOYS

 AND

 DIAPERS

 


 

 

A Truthful Account on

How a Diaper

Seduced his

Bedwetting Boy

into Pooping and More!

 

PART TWO

Chapters 4, 5, 6

 


 

Incontinental drift

 

“Ok, let’s take a real good look at the world’s map. What do we see? Robert?”

 

“The oceans occupy the most of it.”

 

“That’s right, isn’t it? The oceans cover in fact more than two thirds of the Earth, which is why our planet is also called the blue planet.”

 

All that poop! And the smell!

 

“What else can we see in the world’s map? Anyone?”

 

“If the oceans cover two thirds than the land must be one third.”

 

“She’s got a point there, hasn’t she? If two thirds of the Earth are covered by the oceans, than there is a third left which is land.”

 

As his mother entered the room he got a bit frightened. He thought she was going to be mad at him for all that mess. “What happened?” she asked surprised, and he immediately spitted out what the diaper suggested the night before. “It was an accident, mom!” “An accident?” He nodded like a little kid, without looking at her.

 

“But look again carefully at the world’s map, look at the continents. How many are there? Linda?”

 

“Five – America, Asia, Australasia, Africa and Europe!”

 

“Does everyone agree with that? Do we have five continents on that map?”

 

“Well, at least you had a proper diaper on! Imagine what would have happened had you worn just the pull-ons! Now don’t move, I’m going to remove that diaper and clean you up right there, otherwise the mess will be all over the house!” she said.

 

“If you look carefully you will see that there is one more continent. Can you see that white mass down there? Does anyone know what it is called?”

 

He looked at the white mass down there and watched his mother opening the plastic pants and unfastening the tapes of the disposable. He could see now that it was really drenched, swollen, compact and slightly yellow. As she removed the top part of the cloth soaker, the smell became even stronger. “Look at that!” his mother said with disbelief. ‘This is my poop. This is my poop. It comes out of my body, it was in my body. There is nothing wrong with it, it is just a part of me which I give to the world. This is my poop, this is my nice strong poop. It comes out of my body, it was in my body…’ said to himself the boy, as he repeated the lines the diaper had taught him.

 

As none of the pupils answered, the teacher said:

 

“It is called Antarctica. It is the sixth continent and it is completely covered by ice. Are there any more continents?”

 

“Than the North Pole must be a continent too!” said a fat boy with glasses.

 

“No, Danny, the North Pole or, better said, ‘Arctica’ is a mass of ice floating on the ocean. There is no seventh continent, they are only six. Now look carefully at the continents, what else can you see?”

 

His mother lifted his legs with one hand, as if he were a little baby, and removed the soiled diaper. As she went to the bathroom with the stinky and heavy packet, he lied on the towel she had put underneath his bottom and watched his little pee pee, which looked even smaller than usual, as if deflated and exhausted for all the pee it had made during the night.

 

“Ok, class, I will give you a hint. Look carefully at the shapes of the continents – do you notice anything?”

 

Er… South America and Africa seem to fit together… like pieces of a jigsaw!”

 

“Good boy! That’s it! Can you all see what Robert just said?”

 

‘Good boy!’ he thought of himself, as mom came back and started wiping his butt off with a sponge she would plunge at every move in a bucket of lukewarm water. Oh, that was such an awesome feeling! ‘Good boy! Wetting and messing his didee like a good baby boy!’ he would repeat to himself as he felt the warm sponge licking up his butt.

 

“It was a German scientist by the name of Alfred Wegener who noticed how South America and Africa fitted together and he thought that maybe these two continents were once united in a single mass of land. He than imagined that there must have been a force taking the continents away from each other. Do you think he made the right assumption?”

 

“Now you can get up and take a shower. You know this means you will have to wear the thick diaper and plastic pants every night now, do you?” said his mother as she finished the cleaning up. “Yes, mommy…” he replied shyly and jumped out of the bed to ran towards the bathroom, where he could see the folded dirty diaper lying on the floor. ‘Good baby boy!’ he repeated over and over as he took the shower, and while doing that he took a good look at the white shower curtain. “Oh!” he exclaimed at one point. He realised for the first time in his life that the plastics of the curtain was exactly of the same kind of his plastic pants! He touched it to confirm his observation and said “Yeah!” He imagined himself trapped into a huge pair of plastic pants for a moment and felt an itch in his pee-pee area. All that water pouring in the shower and not a single drop falling out. What difference would it made if he peed in the shower? He turned right against the curtain, ready to release his pee against the huge ‘plastic pants’.

 

“Are you with us at all this morning?” said the teacher to him, interrupting his reverie.

 

“Sir?” the boy replied as if suddenly emerging from a trance.

 

“Do you know what we are talking about?”

 

Mhh… yeah, the continents!” said the boy as if trying to make up for his distraction.

 

“Good. So do you have anything to say or ask about Professor Wegener’s hypothesis?”

 

“Could I go to the bathroom? Sir?”

 

The class burst out with laughter.

 

“We just started our lessons ten minutes ago”, said the teacher in a dry voice, “Couldn’t you go before the lesson started?”

 

“S… sorry, s… sir…” he stammered, “I did not feel the need to go then”

 

“You go to the bathroom now, but I want you to come back with something to say about Wegener’s theory!”

 

The boy stood up and ran to the bathroom, as the class kept laughing. He arrived in the bathroom – it was so far! - just in time to flush his pee into the toilet. Maybe his pee pee was becoming smaller through the use of diapers at night! It wasn’t that much pee either, it just felt like he hadn’t gone to the bathroom for ages! But why?

 

As he came back to the classroom he realised with disappointment that the teacher had not forgotten about the question left for him to answer. He tried to concoct something about the continents moving far away from each other until they would eventually crash against each other on the other side of the planet.

 

“Yeah…” said the teacher with surprise. “That is more or less what Wegener thought himself too! Not bad! Not bad!”

 

The rest of the morning the boy tried to keep his reverie under control, but he had to go to the bathroom two more times, causing more laughter among his mates and amazement among the teachers. Those three times he ran to the bathroom in one morning were enough for the whole school to learn the new name his was given. From now on he was ‘The wetter’.

 

As he was on his way home he didn’t even bother picturing cranes and excavators in his mind, and let the diaper imagery take over his thoughts from the start. He would think now of the first night he had to put on the thick diaper and the plastic pants, of his cousin smiling more and more cheekily at each time while being diapered in front of every one, of the “talk” with the diaper the previous night. Was that all imagination? And every time you feel your didee is poopy and wet, like every good diaper baby boy, you feel rewarded for having pooped and wet uncontrollably your nice thick diaper by such a feeling of well being, pleasure and happiness, that you pat your diaper and say to yourself “Good boy! Good baby boy! I am such a good baby boy! It is so right, good and normal to be in wet and messy diapers and I am so glad, satisfied and happy for being a good baby diaper boy. I am so proud that I behaved so good, like a little baby helplessly wetting and messing my diaper.” Where did that come from? Oh, who cared. He would find himself thinking of the shower and his nice stream of pee happily splashing against the plastic curtain and draining downwards. Could he feel his pee pee itching again? And as usual, at a certain stage of this kind of reverie he had from school to home, he would catch himself running instead of walking, only this time for a good reason – he had to go to the bathroom and quick!

 

His dog looked puzzled as he ran past him, “Sorry! Sorry! I got to go!” he excused himself, feeling his wet tip demanding the soonest relief. As he planted himself in front of the toilet he almost tore down his trousers to find out that the wetness had already contaminated a small area of his underwear and a smaller one on his trousers. “My God!” he said as he felt the rest of the pee plummeting toward the toilet, “What is going on!” And again the amount of pee would be ridiculously small compared to the urge he felt. You are a baby and you can’t help wetting and pooping without control, but you are a good baby and you know that it is normal for you to have to wear diapers to keep your bed and clothes nice and clean. And the more you pee and poop in your diapers, the more you will be reminded of what you still are: A baby who needs to wear diapers and plastic pants to keep your clothes and bed dry and clean.

 

He could only think of one thing to do to keep his peeing urges under control and sneaked into his room, closed the door behind him, and went straight to the drawer where a package of pull-ons was still there. He grabbed one of them and put it on. This was so right! He really felt he was behaving like the good boy he wanted to be. He did not want to tell mom, though. And pulled his boy underwear and trousers on the wetting pants. Good boy! He could now devote himself to playing without fear of the peeing urges anymore.

 

In the following days he always wore the pull-ons underneath his underwear, though he would still make use of the toilet, taking advantage of the possibility of pulling off the wetting pants whenever he needed to. The nicest thing was that his mates and friends did not notice at all he was wearing pull-ons! Nobody did! Those stupid people kept calling him ‘the wetter’ but didn’t have a clue as to what he was wearing! He felt a real cool good boy, dutifully wearing diapers and knew that the thick baby diaper he wore at night approved what he was doing, though he did not ask it about its opinion. There was simply no time! At night his diaper would teach him how to be a baby again. He would now walk and crawl around his room for a while before going to sleep. He was amazed at the ability of the stubborn diaper to make its bulky presence felt in all the postures he would take, never letting go, always nicely tight on him!

 

Now pee in your didee like a good baby boy!

 

And the boy obeyed, wetting his diaper while crawling or sitting on the floor, his heels feeling the thrilling touch of the plastic pants on his bottom. He felt such a sense of freedom he didn’t know a boy his age could have. Peeing without control was becoming for him a much more natural activity. He would more and more catch himself wetting his thick diaper while playing with a toy car and realising he could not remember starting the peeing!

 

I bet you can’t poop while you are crawling!

 

The diaper would often challenge him like that and he would proudly prove that the diaper was wrong. Of course he could poop while crawling, and fill his didee with quite a doo doo too! He would then crawl faster and faster, just too feel the happy lump bouncing up and down in his didee, or sit down to feel it cheerfully squash below his butt.

 

He would suck his thumb and yearn for a real pacifier. He would make baby sounds while lying in bed sucking his thumb and wildly shaking his legs. It was so nice! And easy! He was amazed at how quickly his body and mind responded naturally to such simple things. He knew now he had been a baby, because none of that could be faked. None of that could be imitated, unless you had been a real baby! And he was a real baby! He could feel this long forgotten, yet longed for, part of his being coming back more and more, taking over. This was what he was, a baby, no matter what other people saw when they looked at him, he knew he was a baby, and he could sense that not only his body and mind were adjusting to this fundamental truth about him, but that also the external world was taking note and sending messages concerning his new situation.

 

Therefore, he wasn’t so much surprised as he went to bed one night and realised, while being diapered by mom, that his old teddy bear was back! He did not show he noticed the new happy presence, nor did mom say anything about it, though it was obvious that she did it, she was the only one who could have thought of retrieving that dusty cuddly bear from some remote place in the cellar, cleaning it up and put it in bed for her baby son to enjoy. And as she left the room, she knew the first thing her boy would do, would be to grab the teddy and cuddle it like he used to do when he was smaller. Indeed, one could have not seen a happier baby boy that night! He kissed and cuddled his teddy like crazy and made him kiss also his diaper, to introduce the two of them, though the two had known each other for a much longer time the boy could imagine. The boy could tell his teddy was happy too, as this cuddled him back with his disproportionately big furry paws. ‘You are such a big boy now!’ the teddy seemed to say with a puzzled, big eyed expression, only to plunge onto the boy’s face afterwards and kiss him with the clumsy tenderness the boy remembered from his baby days. The two spent hours making up for the time they hadn’t seen each other, telling one another what they did in the last two years. Most of the reunion was happy, but there were also sad moments, with teddy weeping and sobbing, explaining how lonely he had felt down in that dark cellar, feeling the dust ominously covering him as weeks and months went by. ‘A teddy bear without his boy is nothing!’ he would whimper, ‘Each of us is assigned to a little boy at the start of our existences, a little baby boy which will make us meaningful and bring us to life thanks to his unconditional love. We all dread the day in which that little boy will eventually grow and, what is worse, will grow tired of us. I thought that day had come already and now I am so happy to be with you again! Because each of us will be the teddy bear of only one boy and you are my boy and I am your teddy. Please, please, don’t leave me a second time, I would not know how I could survive it!’. And as teddy cried, the boy would console him with little sweet pats on his little cute furry bum. “Hush… hush…”, he would say from time to time, cuddling him and kissing him as sweetly as he could. The boy felt so awful. He did not realise he had hurt the teddy bear so much! But he would be a good boy now, he would make sure his teddy would feel the most loved teddy on the planet! “Don’t worry, Teddy! We won’t part any more, I promise you!” The biggest smile he could make was on his face as he finally fell asleep that night, embracing his little teddy and making the oath never to leave him again.

 

Days passed and the reserve of pull-ons was running out. The first two or three days he still managed to use them mainly as underwear, but the times when he arrived at the bathroom too late were increasing and he would find himself more and more often in front of a toilet with a very wet pull-on and nothing left to be squeezed out of his pee pee. He did not know what to say to his parents. Should he have asked them to buy more? What would they have said?

 

As night is the mother of advice, he decided to sleep over the issue and see what to do the following day. That night, he played again baby for a while and then mounted on the bed, grabbed his wonderful teddy and fell asleep sucking his thumb. Though the boy had not said a word about his pull-on problem, the diaper knew the issue was tormenting him. He grew more and more obsessed about the boy and fond of him, and most importantly of all, it knew the feeling was reciprocal. The diaper knew the boy was facing a vital dilemma, a dilemma which, once broken, would determine the future of the boy in a permanent way. The diaper wanted to help and decided to increase its brain-stimulating activity to the maximum that night. Waves of electricity went to and fro between the part of the body covered by the wet thick diaper, the drooling mouth sucking the thumb, the arm folded around the teddy and the sleepless brain. Neural patterns searched for the best images and sounds in the memory archive, trying the best combinations, interpolating gaps made of unlived experiences with existing data, concocting the best dream the boy ever had. Lights, sounds, movements and touch – everything so perfect, more real than real life. Patterns and routines, lines and gestures rehearsed thousands of times before entering the boy’s subconscious dreaming mind. After a few hours, everything was ready for the dreaming boy to enter the theatre and take part to the show!

 

The boy and his mom arrived at his auntie’s house on a vacation day. He was in the same living room where his cousin was changed in front of everyone two years ago. The same living room… only his cousin wasn’t there! His auntie would cheerfully say hello to him and mom. “So, how is my beautiful nephew?” asked mom. “O, he’s upstairs and he is fine… and still wearing the damn diaper! I don’t think he’ll ever grow out of it, I’ve given up!” replied auntie, half resigned and half amused, and then spoke directly to him, “But you! You are a big boy now! You’ve changed so much! I can see you are doing fine!” “Well… yeah, you can say so”, said his mother, “apart from… er, honey, why don’t you go upstairs and play with your cousin while I carry on chatting with auntie?”

 

He went upstairs, his heart beating like mad! His cousin still wearing diapers? At age five? He could not believe it! As he entered his cousin’s room, he saw a boy standing on his knees on the floor, turning his back on him. He looked bigger than a five-year-old, his body showing an athletic structure to be, wide shoulders, slim hip, powerful thighs, though still retaining a nice baby belly. He had short brown hair, which made his cute little bat ears more evident and wore nothing but a disposable white diaper, which fitted him perfectly, tightly embracing him all around his waist, bulging with a nice elegant curve through his thighs and building a nice flat square packet on his buttocks, exactly as it does on babies and toddlers. When staring at the diaper, one could see little elephants appearing on the squared up bottom of the boy and a nice light blue rectangular shape just below the waist line which marked the width of the diaper middle section, the part in charge of wicking up the boy’s pee. Because the diaper is part of the baby’s body, its plastics or plastic pants being his skin and his fluffy bulge being his muscles. And the baby is the moving limbs, body and head of the diaper, the diaper’s mean to sense and interact with the world. The baby and the diaper are one, the two form together the eternal image of perfect happiness. How true that was! And how cool his cousin looked! He was the perfect image of a diaper-boy, the most natural diaper-wearer he could think of. He was fascinated by this prince of light wearing his diaper with the most enviable ease he could feel. He could see now how that beautiful boy wasn’t just wearing a diaper – he was wearing his very own diaper, and, in a sense, he was the human manifestation of the diaper! Strong and tender, happy and bright – the boy and the diaper were one being, a diaper-boy or a boy-diaper. Our wetter could see now that his cousin was his role model, his inspiration, his twin soul, and always had been!

 

“Hi!” said his cousin as he turned his head toward him. The same smile! He had certainly grown since the last time he saw him, but the smile was exactly the same, a wide smile with closed lips, irresistibly cheeky, and yet kind, his eyes radiating genuine happiness and an unsuspected wisdom for his age.

 

“H.. hi!”, he could feel his face blushing, hating himself for returning his most welcoming cousin with such a display of weakness and embarrassment.

 

His cousin stood up and turned to him. “Come.”, he said extending his hand, “Do you want to play with me?”

 

He could see now the shiny whiteness bulging on the front part of the beautiful boy’s diaper, a whiteness made more evident by the slightly opaque white of the tapes on the sides and a colourful strip printed with little elephants below the waist line. There was no sign of wetness - the boy had probably been changed just before their arrival – and the diaper proudly bulged in the most glorious way it was capable of.

 

He found himself having his hand taken by his cousin who led him toward a drawer. He was so taken by surprise by this little cousin treating him not like an older boy, but like a peer! Indeed his cousin was the leader between the two, he was the accomplice, the guide, the wiser guy introducing him to unknown mysteries of beauty and happiness. He couldn’t help admiring him for the self-confidence and strength emanating from him while wearing nothing but a diaper. A five-year-old in nothing but diapers, the very image of weakness, stupidity, hopeless retard was proving to be the exact opposite – strength, brightness and leadership!

 

“These are my toys”, said his cousin and opened the first drawer. A plethora of little cars and trucks appeared before his eyes – tens of different vehicles, of different shapes and colours, all lined up neatly as if the drawer were a tiny parking lot. “I’ve got more!” the cousin said, barely masking his sense of pride in possessing so many cars. As he opened the second drawer, one could see these were the one he cherished the most. The wetter rejoiced as he saw a little excavator among the vehicles, an excavator exactly like the one he used to picture in his mind when doing his mental games. “Hey, I like excavators too!” he said, happy to have one subject to share with his little cousin, “Have you got also cranes?” “Yeah, look” replied the five-year-old diaper beauty as he opened a third drawer containing a very accurate reproduction in smaller scale of a real crane and uncountable building blocks. “You wanna play building?” asked the cousin. “Yeah!” he answered enthusiastically.

 

The two boys sat down on the carpet in the centre of the room and sorted out the building blocks. “What shall we build?” he asked. “A skyscraper!”, said the younger boy, “A very big, big skyscraper!”, and the kid started “operating” the excavator, moving it on the surface between his wide open legs, digging imaginary holes in the carpet and making the sounds of the machine. The older boy was on his knees in front of him, putting the pieces of the crane together. No matter how much he loved what he was doing, he couldn’t fail to take a look from time to time at his cousin’s diaper and eventually saw a darker spot growing in size… The little boy did not seem at all to be aware that he was wetting – he just carried on moving the excavator, completely absorbed by that activity. As the old boy tried to conceal his curiosity, he was fascinated by the fact that the speed with which the dark spot grew seemed to increase whenever the child accompanied the movements of the excavator with a loud “Roar!”

 

“The hole is ready!” said triumphantly the diaper boy, “Now you must bring the blocks here with the crane!”

 

The crane performed its task dutifully, bringing one piece after the other to the “site”, while the diaper boy started putting them together. He was now sitting by the side of his older cousin, his thighs wide open, but the legs folded underneath, his feet plants hosting the diaper bulk jumping up and down as he leaned forward and backward to pick up the blocks left by the crane and put them together. As no sounds were made to accompany the building activity, all one could hear was the diaper plastics crinkling and swishing with every movement. At some point the younger boy bent forward in the effort to try to put together two blocks which wouldn’t match. The older boy involuntarily threw a look at the diapered bottom of the kid and saw the bulk growing in size! Immediately afterwards the kid sat back on his feet plants and the room was filled with an unequivocal smell.

 

He closed his eyes and let the pungent smell emanating from his cousin’s pooped diaper envelop him, invade his body. He opened his nostrils to the maximum and inhaled as much of the sweetly acid odour he could, as if it were some sort of drug. He could feel something new happening to him, a transformation he could not fully understand, but knew was right. The smell permeated the whole room, his cousin, his own body, all were one, all were that smell, everything was everywhere and everything was everything else. He could feel a profound intimacy with his little cousin, a closeness he had never experienced before with anyone. He felt drenched by the kid’s pee and an increase of temperature told him his cousin was peeing right now… on his face, in his face! He could feel his own face cells wicking up the crystal clear baby juice and diffusing it through the depths of his face muscles. Still uncertain about what was happening, but feeling the irresistible urge to savour every droplet of the kid’s liquid, he became aware of the smelly presence of the boy’s poop in his lap! He realised then that he was wrapped around the kid’s lower part of the abdomen, his own arms and legs tightly embracing the kid’s hips! For a timeless moment he was his cousin’s diaper, gently cuddling his private parts and bum, affectionately absorbing his innocent fluids, firmly holding his cheeky poop in place, and feeling his cousin’s endless gratitude for it. As he opened his eyes again, he found himself gliding, almost hovering, over his cousin’s little penis, his navel, his chest until he stopped right in front of his eyes, the tip of his own nose against the tip of his cousin’s nose. He realised he was now of about the same height of the diaper boy! The two boys were standing in front of each other, pressed against each other and wearing the same diaper! They were sharing the same warm, wet and poopy diaper! His cousin smiled and smiled! All he could see was his cousin’s face so close, but then the kid started shrinking downwards until he disappeared in the diaper, which got warmer, brighter and whiter! He patted the diaper lightly and then started caressing it delicately and the diaper responded by tightening its grip around him. He could feel the smile of his cousin in the warm, thick diaper and closed his eyes. A warm sprinkle of pee came out of him involuntarily, without thinking, of its own will! As if summoned by a thirsty desire dwelling in his diaper. He knew it was his wonderful diaper-cousin making him experience what total loss of control really meant. And as he yielded even more to the diaper’s yearnings he became aware of a load of brown matter coming out by its own will from his body.

 

As he opened his eyes again the two boys were in the living room, lying on the floor side by side, holding hands and smiling to each other, while their respective mothers were changing their diapers in front of the whole family! He could feel the eyes of all people staring at him, while his mother lifted his legs and wiped the poop off his bum, exposing his private parts for everyone to see. He felt so vulnerable, so embarrassed, his face becoming redder and redder.

 

“This is the deal” he heard his cousin say as the young kid squeezed his hand, “The world will let you wear diapers as long as you will let them see your privates and give them your pee and poop in return.”

 

“If you wish” added his mother, “to wear diapers forever, then you must relinquish the control of your private parts to us. They will be no longer your ‘private’ parts, because there won’t be anything private about your whole body anymore.” And as the new diaper unfolded in his mother’s hands, he could hear it crinkle and say

 

cause I’m the one who by hiding reveals,

 

cause I’m the one who… implies what is hidden,

 

cause I’m the one who by showing conceals!

 

You shall no longer refuse what is bidden,

 

You shall no longer decide when to pee,

 

You shall no longer dispose of your midden!

 

And what escapes from your body will see

 

Anyone present when diapers will change,

 

Answering questions on WHY you need me!

 

You are on a course that you wish not derange,

 

You know it’s useless to have them beguiled –

 

Your wearing diapers must be nothing strange!

 

You want the world treating YOU as a child.

 

You’ll be their baby, you’ll fight to prove it

 

In a few seconds by screaming like wild!

 

 

 

And as soon as the diaper stopped crinkling and speaking, he saw grandma grabbing it from mom’s hands and holding it in front of his eyes: “What?! Such a big boy still wearing diapers like a baby?” she shouted, “Don’t you want to use the potty like all other big boys like you do? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? I will throw this away! It is well time for you to behave like a big boy!”

 

Noooooooooooooo!” he heard himself shouting, “I WANT DIAPERS!!!”

 

“I’M A LITTLE BABY WHO NEEDS DIAPERS ALL THE TIME!!!!” he cried, “I’m a wittle baaaaby!!! I want my dideeeee!!!” he said as he sobbed and whined louder and louder, “I’M A BAAABEEEE!!!! MY DIDEE! I WANT MY DIDEE!” he shouted tens of times, wildly kicking his legs and banging his hands on the floor.

 

He woke up with a gasp in the dim silence of the room. ‘My God! What a dream!’ he thought. Was he shouting for real? Did his parents hear him? Well his teddy certainly looked at him with the most puzzled expression! It reminded him of the expression his dog would have whenever he did something bizarre, like pretending to throw a stick and holding it instead. ‘What’s up, buddy?’ he could imagine Teddy saying, ‘You are wearing your thick diaper, so what’s all this shouting about you wanting one?’. Indeed his drenched and messed diaper was bulking reassuringly between his thighs. ‘O, you are right!’ he told Teddy, ‘Did I really shout?’ he asked worried. ‘I thought my furry ears were going bald, man!’ replied the bear. He chuckled and said ‘Really? Nah, my parents would be in here by now. You must be wrong, you must have been dreaming my same dream!’. ‘Well, it’s strange, because in my dream you were lying on this bed like you are doing right now…’ Teddy said. ‘Nah, you are making this all up just to scare me, you naughty teddy bear!’ he replied teasingly. He then held him tighter against his neck and said ‘Now let’s go back to sleep.’

 

He was in his auntie’s garden now, playing with his cousin. Both boys wore nothing but diapers and were running in circles among the crowd of the family’s grown ups. The two boys were laughing and every now and then a grown up would slap their well padded butts, making them laugh even more. Suddenly he stumbled and fell at the feet of his cousin. As he tried to get up he felt his cousin’s hands on his shoulders, blocking his face right in front of the kid’s diaper.

 

“Are you ready?” said the kid.

 

“Ready?” he replied puzzled.

 

“Come” said the younger boy and pushed vigorously his face against the puffy diaper, sinking it to the extreme in the plastic wrapped bulk. The boy felt the plastics tight on his face, he couldn’t breathe and thought the diaper had finally decided to kill him by suffocation! But after a few seconds of terror he found himself on the other side of the diaper! And the diaper was so big, white and empty! Only his cousin was there with him. Both boys were completely naked, standing in front of each other at the bottom of the huge diaper, holding hands.

 

“You must take the oath” said his cousin, “Repeat after me”. And his cousin started to speak with the diaper’s voice, a deep, resonant voice, echoing throughout the immense white cavity:

 

 

 

I hereby solemnly, truthfully swear…

 

“I hereby solemnly, truthfully swear…”

 

That for the rest of my days on this Earth…

 

“That for the rest of my days on this Earth…”

 

I will not use anymore underwear…

 

“I will not use anymore underwear…”

 

Only the diaper will do as my girth…

 

“Only the diaper will do as my girth…”

 

cause I might pee and make poop anywhere…

 

‘cause I might pee and make poop anywhere…”

 

For I’m a baby for all that is worth…

 

“For I’m a baby for all that is worth…”

 

Feeling the need of a diaper to wear…

 

“Feeling the need of a diaper to wear…”

 

Lacking control as I did at my birth!

 

“Lacking control as I did at my birth!”

 

And as he repeated the last line, he felt a sudden numbness in the lower part of his body which made him fall on his back. As his buttocks touched the bottom of the huge diaper, this started to shrink toward him, while an endless stream of urine came out of his penis to disappear inside the white fabrics. The more he peed, the more the diaper shrank on him, eventually reaching the right size. As he lied there in the garden he could see now all grown ups staring at his swollen diaper and giggling. His cousin, standing beside him, looked at him with the most serious expression and pointed his finger to him: “He’s a baby! He needs diapers! He’s a baby! He needs diapers!”. The adults joined his cousin and repeated in unison “He’s a baby! He needs diapers! He’s a baby! He needs diapers!”, while his mother approached him and started to unfasten the tapes of his drenched diaper.

 

“He’s a baby! He needs diapers! He’s a baby! He needs diapers!” the choir went on and on, louder and louder, almost ferocious, until his mother started to put a new diaper on him. A sudden silence fell on the crowd. And as the fresh new diaper started fastening around his hips, he felt a stream of words coming out of his own mouth, while at every word his voice sounded younger and younger. The words came out involuntarily, without thinking, of their own will! As it happened with the flow of pee before:

 

“Baby forever! in diapers for sure!

 

cause baby diapers are all that I crave,

 

as I’m a baby and diaper’s my cure!

 

Only in his diapers a baby’ll behave,

 

Baby who yields to his diaper’s allure,

 

Forever diaper’s cute baby and slave!”

 

“His fate is sealed” announced his cousin.

 

He’s mine” resounded the triumphant voice of the diaper, and the shining whiteness of its plastics invaded all the scene, engulfing all the participants.

 

The Diaper reloaded

 

When mom opened his bedroom door the following morning, she found him in bed crying at the top of his voice, like a newborn. Instinctively she reacted: “Ooo! Why is this baby so unhappy? Is his didee wet and messy?”. She lifted the covers and began to unsnap the plastic pants buttons: “We are going to make everything all right, we’ll put a fresh new didee on this baby and he’ll be as happy as before!”.

 

The boy started kicking wildly, crying even louder. “No, no, noo!” she cooed recovering her old talents, “Don’t cry, mommy is gonna change you into a fresh new didee right now!”.

 

And while she proceeded removing the soiled diaper as fast as she could, he kicked his legs in unison and kept his arms folded to each side of the body, his clenching fists turned upwards, at the height of the shoulders. He looked frightened and annoyed, at the same time.

 

As the mother lapped the poop off his butt with a wet sponge, he calmed down and began to suck his thumb. He accompanied the sucking with soft gulping sounds, while showing a frightening indifference to the external world. By the time she put a new thick disposable topped by a cloth soaker on him and sealed everything with the usual plastic pants, it was obvious that her son didn’t speak! Did not know how to speak and most probably did not have any idea at all as to what speaking meant!

 

Emerging from her baby mother trance, she realised something very serious had happened to her son, he obviously was not in condition to go to school, not only for the thick diaper he was wearing, but also because there was nothing in him which reminded of the normal 9-year-old schoolboy he had been until the night before!

 

As the father and the sister witnessed the extraordinary transformation the boy had gone through, the family decided to call the doctor to find out what had happened. The same doctor which certified his bedwetting few weeks earlier was at first annoyed in seeing the boy in diapers: “I told you not to use diapers! The diaper suggests and confirms to a bed wetting boy a regressive message which grows stronger at every night! Now you have it!”. “O, I’ll take it off, I’ll take it off right now!” cried the mother in despair. “O, don’t’ bother, it’s perfectly useless now that he really needs them!” he replied. He proceeded to examine the boy, taking his pulse, testing his reflexes, trying to get reactions from him, though with little success. After five minutes he said that though more tests were needed, he was pretty sure their boy was showing the typical signs of DSS. “DSS?” asked the father. “Diaper Shock Syndrome, and quite a severe form too!” he explained, “Many bedwetters put back to diapers might eventually exhibit also encopresis, i.e. an involuntary release of faeces at day or night, but a few of them regresses even further, to the state of a newborn baby, like your boy here!”. “O my God!”, erupted the father, “Is there a treatment?”. The doctor said that the true nature of DSS was still unknown – was it a disorder affecting more the psychology or the physiology of a child? Various theories were still competing, though there was a general agreement among specialists that DSS was a sort of adaptation syndrome in response to an overstimulation of the brain induced by the prolonged wearing of a thick diaper. It was, he said, as if the brain had fought a very stressful identity battle induced by the contrast of wearing diapers and leading the life of a normal preteen boy and eventually settled for a baby neural pattern mode. Like all acute stress syndromes, DSS too showed to disappear in the course of time, though with varying degrees according to the subject. He said the brain would eventually get accustomed to the presence of the diaper and start interact with the external world normally. But in the meantime they had to consider and treat their boy as if he were a baby, i.e. keeping him in diapers full time, feeding him, bathing him, etc. As the brain had blocked all previously learned behaviours, the boy could not be expected to speak, walk, or do anything else he used to do until the previous day. He would have to relearn all these behaviours, though, he remarked, experience showed that DSS children were quite quick in the recovery of all their psychomotor abilities, usually in a timeframe varying from six months to… three years!

 

After the first days of anxiety, the family entered the routine involved in taking care of the ‘baby’ and his room resumed the look it used to have when he was a newborn – his dad had even ordered a special crib for a boy of his size and, of course, a matching diaper changing station. The boy would spend most of the time lying asleep in his bed, his legs kept well apart by the thickest diaper attached to him like a huge white leech greedily sucking all substances released by his baby body. It was as if the diaper had taken over the whole family, like a malicious presence manipulating them without their knowledge, let alone consent! The white parasite was capable of inducing the most repetitive and dull tasks in them and they would comply with no objection, as if hypnotised, moving about the house in a state of perennial trance. The diaper was particularly keen in having them feed the ‘baby’ baby bottle after baby bottle, for him to drain gallons of pee out of the oblivious boy. The communication between the boy and the diaper now had nothing of the sophisticated quality it had during the bedwetting days. It was basic to the extreme, a very physical exchange of stimuli, an incredibly dull and simple feedback circuit, more typical of machines than sentient entities. The two were linked to each other like a thermostat and a heater, with one important difference – the thermostat (the diaper) was defective and had to be changed very often, because it kept sending the heater (the boy) only one message – ‘make more heat’ (pee/poop), and would never send the ‘stop’ signal when the appropriate ‘temperature’ was reached. As a result, one could say that both the boy and the diaper suffered from a pathological thirst, impossible to quench, while the parents and his sister looked like Mickey Mouse’s brooms in Fantasia, endlessly carrying an increasing number of buckets!

 

In a situation like that, it was not difficult to understand that they weren’t keen on receiving visits by anyone. First, there was too much to do – diapers had to be washed, dried and folded, baby bottles filled, rinsed and sterilised, the boy cleaned, changed and fed – the most exhausting assembly line! And they disposed only of three shifts… Second, they felt ashamed and they really feared that the very term ‘Diaper Shock Syndrome’ would immediately give them away as bad parents, sickly infantilising their child to the limits of abuse and now paying the consequences for it. When not taking care of the child, the mother would often cry her eyes out, endlessly blaming herself for not following the doctor’s advice and putting her son back to diapers instead. “What was I thinking!” would she shout before plunging back into inconsolable weeping. She felt guilty beyond any hope of forgiveness, as did her husband and her daughter. These two could have easily excused themselves, at least in their own private thoughts, by thinking that they had been manipulated too, after all it was the mother who talked them into this! But they were too honest not to acknowledge that they had played quite an active part in all this too. Apart from a devouring sense of guilt, the three shared another common feature now – they had such a grudge against diapers and plastic pants, such a hard-hearted resentment that they were blind with hatred. An external observer could only perceive them as completely crazy for hating inanimate objects with such an irrational intensity. And yet, no matter how much they hated them, they were forced to change, wash and fold diapers without rest. They did not complain, though, as they saw that as the fully deserved, most righteous punishment for their hubris.

 

After the first two-three weeks, however, the gloominess of the whole situation began to leave ground in favour of a more serene atmosphere. The ‘baby’ was becoming less of a screaming or sleeping shit-machine and more responsive and prone to interactions with other human beings. They even began to sense the typical happiness a house conveys when inhabited by a baby who has just landed on this planet. At his first convincing smile, they all fell in love with the boy for a second time and began to coo and tweet like imbeciles making fools out of themselves when around him. Goood boy!” would they chirp when he released the loudest burp after emptying his baby bottle. And the most typical thing one could hear during a diaper change was “O! I’m gonna eat these cute little feet, I’m gonna eat these cute little feet! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum!”, causing the boy to chuckle hysterically as mom or dad would sloppily kiss the plants of his feet producing fart-like sounds and then pretend to bite them or even try to put half of a foot in their mouth. Interestingly, this was not some sort of training suggested by the doctor or other professional. It was something they really felt like doing, indeed one could say they simply weren’t capable of resisting that urge, as if the soft feet of the boy were among the most beautiful things nature was capable of creating, a masterpiece of smooth perfection, which skilfully combined beauty, happiness and innocence. But actually, the feet were like the most dignified ambassadors of the boy’s whole body and personality, and one could have said that the qualities of the feet applied equally to him. It was – and is – one of the greatest mysteries of the universe or – more modestly – of human nature: How come that for children the most natural sentiment seems to be happiness? And why are they so good in conveying it to others? And what happens once one grows? How does he lose that gift? Where has it gone? How could Nature plot such a wicked joke? A beautiful symphony turned into a farce with all adults either exhibiting a dead stare or running around shouting “I want my money back!” or devoting the rest of their lives looking for a more or less satisfactory ersatz of their lost childhood’s happiness, be it money, power, success or the latest DVD! But when they bump unexpectedly into the soft feet of a boy, two little feet cooing their genuine happiness like a sweet couple of doves in love, they know deep inside that nothing of what they have now could possibly match what they’ve lost! And they realise that they’ve been cheated all along. Worse still, they’ve cheated themselves! And they come to the conclusion that, after all, building a family to have at least a few of those princes of light running for a while through their houses is the most bearable, perhaps the most dignified, of all illusions.

 

It took six weeks for the first signs of babbling to appear in the boy’s vocal behaviour and six more weeks for him to produce his ‘first’ “wa-wa”, “doo-doo” and, of course, “didee”, when crawling and rolling over gradually yielded to pulling up, standing and walking. His toddler phase lasted six months and his mother, but also his sister and his father, cherished every minute of it. O! He was an adorable toddler - playful, smiling, curious and adventurous. Without admitting it, not even to themselves, they all forgave the diapers and the plastic pants, as they simply could not imagine their beautiful little explorer romping around without them! And so, after months of seclusion from the rest of the world, the family felt confident enough to have relatives visiting them again – the boy might still have given the impression of a retarded kid, but he was simply irresistible and he clearly showed signs of fast advances! The adults were usually genuinely happy to see him running around in just his diaper and with a big pacifier sticking in his mouth, though his cousins – and the boys more than the girls - were clearly disturbed by the sight and by his behaviour, with one important exception – his 5-year-old diaper-cousin, who spent hours playing with him and teaching him things!

 

Among the many things he clearly showed to perceive and appreciate, his favourite were diaper changes – he would usually ask to be changed before his mother or his sister would offer it to him, and would then happily lead the way to the changing station and wait eagerly to be lifted and put on it! His preferred diaper changes were those in the evening after the bath, as he would be lifted out of the tub, rubbed in a big fluffy towel and then laid onto the station with his Teddy! “Ooo, isn’t this baby boy just happy to have a new thick didee put on him!” would coo his mother applying handfuls of baby cream to his butt and pee pee. “Dideeee!!” he would shout back at the top of excitement. “Yeah! A new didee for this happy baby!” would she say lifting his legs and massaging the cream onto the skin of his cute bottom, “Goo! Goo!” would he reply through the teat of his baby bottle. When being spread with cream on his soft little penis, his excitement would not seldom take the form of an unexpected jolt of pee wetting his mom’s hand, amidst her shrilled laughter and his own – “Ooo! Look! A baby has just wet in here! He couldn’t wait to have his diaper on, this cheeky baby boy!” she would coo an octave higher. The joking atmosphere would usually dissipate by the time of the powdering, when all one could see of his boyhood was a little happy sack covered with snow. The mother and the boy would exchange smiling glances of innocent connivery, as if preparing for the special moment, when the thick diaper would rise among the boy’s legs to cover him up to the navel. In the silence, one could hear the gulping sounds of the boy sucking his baby bottle increasing in frequency and loudness. By the time the plastic pants button would happily click one after the other, the boy would lightly kick his legs, as if to provoke the swishing chant of the plastics. A huge smile and the happiest “Gooo!” would be the automatic response to his mother patting his bulk between his legs, the convened sign indicating the end of the diaper changing ceremony.

 

One could feel the boy had the deepest attachment to his diaper and on more than one occasion his parents had caught him alone in his room patting it, caressing it and… talking to it! It was no real wonder therefore when he turned hysterical at the first clumsy attempts to potty-train him again. It was the doctor’s idea, though he admitted the chances of success were very dim. But he honestly believed that since the boy was going again through his evolutionary stages at such a fast pace, testing his control abilities in that domain at that mental age would have been worthwhile. But the boy screamed like hell at the sight of the big potty and threw the most scary tantrum when they attempted to put him in a training pant. His mother seriously worried about his health and really feared that all the achievements of the last six months could vanish in an instant!

 

The potty and the ‘trainers’ ended up in the cellar, well out of the boy’s sight. Not happy, the boy seemed to want to make his point even clearer, for future reference. And so it was that, behind his adamant insistence, one more ‘member’ of the family had to wear diapers… Teddy! And while the poor teddy bear was sacrificed on the altar of the little diapered tyrant, for the sake of peace, his parents managed at least to save the dog, who kept pushing his wet nose on the boy’s diapered bottom, completely unaware that he came that close to wear one of those funny white puffy things too!

 

More weeks went by, and the family found out that the ‘invisible’ playmate of all 4-year-old children of the world was, in the case of their son, a very visible presence indeed – his diaper! Not only could they hear him whispering things to his diaper, he would also reveal them from time to time what ‘he’ told him. At times they were just amused by the cheeky comments of the diaper on the boy’s sister clothing – “Didee says you can see the panty with that skirt!”. But on other occasions they could feel shivers down their spine when he told them that Didee wanted him to pee and poop because it made ‘him’ very happy! Or that Didee told him he was a good boy for peeing and pooping a lot! “O, but boys who pee in the potty are also good”, would try to persuade him his mother. “I’m sure the trainers could be your friends too!” added his father. “Nah! Didee would be mad at me!” he said.

 

The family did not really know what to make out of all this – most of the times they would simply remove the issue from their mind, though one could tell by the way they were performing the diaper changes that this task was seen under a new, strange light. Half amused, one day his mother tried to pretend to talk to the diaper while pulling it over between the thighs of the boy: “Are you happy to embrace my boy again?” And the answer of the boy would strike her like a club behind her knees: “Of course he is! He likes it a lot when you pat him!”. That was her first and last attempt to ‘talk’ to her son’s diaper.

 

His father fought his anxiety over the subject by taking it with humour – when he discovered that the 5-yeard-old still-in-diapers-cousin had the same imaginary playmate of his son, he asked the two boys whether their diapers were two different friends, one for each of them. “No, it’s only Didee, our friend” they would insist. “Well, I guess that if both boys believe in the same diaper, that makes them ‘monodiaperists’!” he joked with his wife, although she did not think that was funny at all.

 

Twelve months after the ‘rebirth’ the boy’s mental age was five and advancing. Would he be ready for a real try at the potty? After all he would soon have to go to school again, and sending him thickly diapered among younger kids would have had only cruel sneering and bullying as a consequence. Strangely enough, this time it was the doctor who recommended leaving him in diapers. To the confused parents he explained that after extensive research on DSS (thanks to the boy’s case, he had written a few articles on the subject which had made him quite an authority on the syndrome), he reached the conclusion that the boy was experiencing three different types of growth. On one hand he was a 10-year-old whose body, from a purely physiological point of view, was developing normally. On the other hand, as they all knew, he was a child whose mental age and most, but not all, of the related abilities were progressing at a speed of roughly one year every three months, presumably slowing down at normal speed once the mental age and the body age would coincide again, i.e. within the following two years. But there was one more age and growth process they had never considered before – his ‘baby-age’, i.e. the ageing process in charge of a certain set of abilities usually controlled by the mental age in normal children, but not in the case of DSS children. Of this particular set of abilities, the two most notable were bladder and bowel control. What was most remarkable about baby-age, however, was the fact that it seemed to progress at a speed of one year every solar year, even though, considering the lack of sufficiently long case studies, a much slower pace of growth could not be ruled out, as baby-age was most probably a sort of side effect of the quick recovery of faculties represented by the mental age progress. In other words, experiencing the various stages in a rapid sequence meant not having enough time to dwell in each of them for the stage to complete its cycle, leaving the child with an insatiable longing for the ages he had to abandon as he progressed rapidly through them. At any rate, their boy was now 10, 5 and 1, all at the same time! Potty-training was therefore not worth trying before his fourth year of baby-age, which could not be expected to fall at least before his twelfth year of body-age, i.e. two years from now!

 

The parents were astonished with disappointment. If what the doctor said was true, that would mean at least another two years of diaper changes! Maybe longer! Not to mention the expenses for homeschooling, as clearly sending the boy to a school was no longer an option. Baby-age! What the hell! Though certainly that explained their son’s attachment not only to diapers, but also to baby bottles and pacifiers. His insistence to be spoon fed! Baby-age – one more bizarre thing to explain to relatives and friends!

 

Eventually they grinned and bore it and, after a couple of weeks, they got used to the idea that their son was probably not going to see any underwear for a long, long time. It was an idea not too difficult to accept, however, considering that at home he only wore diapers and maybe a short T-shirt, leaving the whole of the plastic pants for everyone to see. And home schooling was such a wiser choice, allowing him to advance in his learning at a faster pace than the average boys –within six months the three R’s were conquered and one could see he was being again the same boy he had been at seven, apart from the diapers and his baby behaviours, of course. He was also recovering memories of the previous life and would often mix episodes occurred to him when he was seven then and now – a feature which made his parents uncomfortable, because they had never told him what had happened. He would ask, for instance, why he was at school yesterday but a new teacher was coming home today… “O, you are so fast, sweetheart, your are learning so quick that the school is too slow for you!” would sound the most unlikely reply of his parents. And where did all his friends go? Their families moved…. All of them?

 

He never questioned the diapers, however, as in all his memories he was always wearing one, though as time went by he certainly began to notice that other boys of his ‘age’ were not wearing them. “You wanna try too?” replied in a rare moment of self-delusion the father when the boy asked why were not all boys in diapers. “Nah… I like it this way, I’m like my cousin…”, he said sheepishly. Father and son never asked their respective questions again.

 

The boy became more discreet with regard to his Didee playmate and stopped talking about ‘him’ to his parents and sister. He even liked the idea of him and Didee sharing secrets, particularly now that Didee was becoming more and more daring in ‘his’ remarks – “The poop of last night? Boy! That was awesome! It smelled so nice I did not want to get into the washing machine to keep it forever on me!” or “Drink all you can, baby, I really feel like getting drenched to the limit!” “O, you are such a sick little perv!” would chuckle back the boy, slapping his diapered bottom to ‘punish’ him. More often, however, the two would enjoy each other’s company in silence, letting themselves plunge into the greatest bliss. Being one being.

 

His eighth year of mental age, well into his eleventh year of body age, was marked by behavioural problems, most likely caused by the very speed of the growing process. The boy did not always know what his limits were, particularly when it came to the authority his parents and his sister had over him. He would challenge them at times with regard to the time to go to bed – “But I’m big now! Can’t I stay up longer until the movie is finished?”

 

“No way, young man, you need more sleep than we do. Go!”

 

Urh! But I wanna see the movie!”

 

“You will go to bed right now!”

 

“No!”

 

“Vanish or I’ll take that diaper off and fasten you to the toilet for a week!”

 

Geez, Baby, why do you test them like that? You wanna see me in the trash can?”

 

“All right! All right! I go!”

 

There were times however when the diaper would give quite a different piece of advice…

 

“Do your homework or you won’t have a diaper change in the next twenty-four hours!”

 

O, I can handle that! Let’s try!” said Didee barely hiding his excitement.

 

And the boy would spend the rest of the day in his room listening to his diaper groaning more and more with pleasure as he got wetter and messier.

 

He would also find girls more and more stupid and unbearable to be with – an irony of destiny, now that his girl cousins had overcome their revulsion for him and found him terribly cute instead! They would chase him through the whole house to change his diapers, but to no avail. The only females allowed to change him, and cuddle him, were his mom, his aunt (the mother of his now 7-years-old diapered cousin), and his sister, even though his relationship to the latter was becoming one characterised by love and hate. At times he would pee or even poop immediately after she had wiped his butt, when no fresh diaper had been laid yet under his buttocks, to take revenge for a previous wrong from her side or just to challenge her. She would then scream how boys were incapable of staying clean even for a second and slap his pee-pee with a folded disposable. Nevertheless, he could be seen at times crying and running to her, after he got hurt falling or hitting something, and she would lower herself to have her face at the same height of his and embrace him, whispering soothing words and lightly patting his diapered bottom. He would chuckle when she named him a smelly brat, get mad when she remarked his pee-pee was smaller then a pea pod, but his heart would melt when she called him ‘Baby-Bro’.

 

His ninth year of mental age, which began three months after his body’s – uncelebrated – eleventh birthday, was characterised by the appearance of bizarre memories, like waking up in a wet bed without diapers! The boy did not know what to make of these thoughts – certainly they did seem memories, but that was just impossible! He had been wearing diapers all his life! They had to be fantasies, no matter how unsettlingly vivid.

 

One day, while visiting his fellow diaper-boy cousin, he had twice the incredibly strong feeling of a déjà-vu. The two boys were playing in his cousin’s room, having a ‘diaper-wrestling’ round, which implied the winner sitting with his diaper right on the face of the loser and trying to release the most stupid fart. The two boys found the game very funny and serious at the same time – the farts were so silly and gross, and the more so when the diaper was loaded, that they would laugh their heads off. But then no fart resembled any other, they were so different, surprising, that listening to them was a reward both for the winner and the loser, and both boys knew that the wrestling part was just a pretext to get to the real purpose of the game – making their thick diapered bottoms sing like whales in love! It was indeed one of their favourite games, the other one being ‘diaper-eavesdropping’, which implied one boy putting his ear on the front part of the cousin’s diaper and listening to the pee diving into the soft fabrics, producing the naughty, typical, dull and low-pitched burble – that was so cool! At times they would even do that together, lying on the floor, each boy pressing his ear against the other’s diaper.

 

That day he ended with his cousin’s diapered bottom on his face (he would often let his younger cousin win…) and after a round of laughter of both boys for the complaining fart of the kid, they decided to play a more ‘traditional’ game, like building something. The two boys sat down on the carpet and sorted out the building blocks, his cousin then started ‘operating’ the excavator, moving it on the surface between his wide open legs, digging imaginary holes in the carpet and making the sounds of the machine. When the ‘hole’ was ready, his cousin started leaning forward and backward to pick up the blocks left by the crane and put them together. There were two blocks, however, which simply refused to match, and as his cousin leaned forward to match them by force, he saw his diapered butt growing in size, and immediately afterwards, as the younger kid sat back on his feet plants, the room was filled with an unequivocal smell. My God! He saw this already! But when? He had a very neat mental image of all this, only his cousin was smaller! Was this the repetition of something happened maybe two years ago? But at that time it was his cousin coming to his place, not the other way round!

 

“What’s up?” asked his cousin, waking him up from his reverie.

 

“I don’t know, I have the feeling I have lived this moment already”.

 

“It’s called déjà-vu” said the cousin with a certain affectation, so terribly cute at his age.

 

“I know what a déjà-vu is, you dork!” he bit back, “I’m not ignorant!”.

 

 

 

Later on the two boys were running through the garden, surrounded by adults who from time to time slapped their puffy butts, making them shriek with laughter. At one point he stumbled and fell at the feet of his cousin and when trying to get up, he found himself with his face in front of his cousin’s diaper… ‘What is happening to me?’ he thought for a short moment, before his cousin’s hand on the back of his head caught him by surprise and pushed his face with a jerk against his diaper. He did not have any time to react and his face plunged directly into the over-inflated bulge adorning his cousin’s groin. Could he hear laughter? Everything sounded so deadened, only his heart beats were amplified in his ears! He felt like someone drowning in a pool, slowly, endlessly! He knew he had experienced this terror already, in the same garden, exactly like that! But when?

 

“You liked that?” came his cousin’s cheeky voice, rescuing him out of the ‘pool’.

 

“You stupid dork!” he shouted, “You wanna suffocate me?” and jumped on his cousin.

 

“Hey, hey, hey! Come on, boys” shouted his aunt, “No fights!”

 

“He wanted to kill me!” he said, releasing his grip on the other boy.

 

Geez, I was just joking, sorry!” explained the younger boy, more out of fear of his mother than his cousin.

 

“What did you do?” she asked her son.

 

“I… I just pushed his face against my diaper…”

 

“He wanted to suffocate me!”

 

“Why on Earth did you do that?”

 

“It was just a joke!”

 

“He was suffocating me!!”

 

“O stop that! You look perfectly alright!”, her aunt told him and then turned to her son: “Say sorry to your cousin and don’t frighten him anymore like that! I want you both to make peace. You are cousins and you are the only boys in the family who still wear diapers – don’t you understand how important it is for the two of you to be friends?”

 

His aunt words produced the desired effect, and the two boys were friends again. That night, he even sneaked out of his bed to join his cousin, and the following morning the two boys were found sleeping snugly nestled in the same little bed, like two inseparable kittens.

 

In the following months, when entering his tenth and eleventh years of mental age, the déjà-vu were replaced by memories of the last two solar years. The boy would then vividly remember his mental infancy, toddlerhood and childhood. He was so confused! He could not understand why a memory in a school class with other boys seemed so remote compared to the traumatising attempts to potty-train him. And his first steps seemed a matter of a couple of years ago! How could that be possible? He found Didee strangely unwilling to help him through all this – You are still too young to understand, but one day you will, trust me! He would say, only to change the subject immediately afterwards.

 


 

 

WARNING – Until now it was all peeing and pooping, sucking baby bottles, pacifiers, thumbs or whatever. You enjoyed it so much, didn’t you? All those diaper changes, that farting in diapers, macerating your buttocks in a nice, warm poop, caressing your stern but loyal plastic pants, sharing dirty secrets with your adorable diaper. Who wouldn’t love all that? But you’re a developing boy and your body is changing… lots of surprises lie ahead of you, some nice, some not, but there is one you will never forget – it will change you forever, you won’t look at yourself in the same way you did anymore! And, most importantly, you won’t look at boys and girls in the same way you’re doing now. The world will change because you will change. There might be still some stupid adults around who will tell you that what you are about to experience is bad, very bad. But your body, who knows you so much better, will tell you that what you’ll experience is damn good! More than that, it is great! Most people call it ‘sex’, especially when experienced with other people. But that word only describes one the shapes this experience can assume in your life. Forget about Freud – if you’ll ever bump into his books – the fact is that sex is one of the categories of a higher form of intense pleasure, not the other way round. And you can be sure that no matter how proud you are of your boyhood, you biggest sexual organ, you real pleasure organ is… your brain!

 

Be warned: If you are going, as you probably are, to have this experience for the first time in your wet diaper… you’ll be hooked to your didee for all your life! No matter what you might think in a few years from now, rest assured that one day you’ll be looking franticly for that thick bulky feeling between your thighs to help you go through this wonderful experience again… Are you sure you want to carry on reading?

 


 

 

The Diaper revolutions – I

 

As he approached his thirteenth real year of life, his mental and biographical age finally caught up with one another. His physiology, apart from his complete lack of control on urinary functions and bowel movements – after all, his baby-age was only two… – was that of a healthy 12-year-old boy. He began to discover new things about his body, promising things which forebode unexpected moments of glory and bliss. He would look at himself more often into the mirror, especially when wearing just his diaper, looking at the neatly designed muscles developing on his torso – “Nice!” he would say to himself. He would then lie on the bed or on the floor and lift up his legs and back to form a column, opening his thighs or bending his legs toward the floor. He could see the white bulge of the diaper building a cool contrast with the hairless skin covering his slender limbs and abdomen, as all traces of baby fat had disappeared completely. And while bending his legs toward his head, he would fall in admiration for his diaper, trying to approach his mouth to kiss it, though, alas!, to no avail.

 

It was during these exercises of self exploration that he became aware of an interesting feature of his boyhood – it would elongate and become bigger and harder, capable of stretching out of the cloth soaker, its tip pointing to his face, held back only by the upper limit of the plastic pants, as if wanting to leave and plunge directly into his mouth! When moving his legs up and down the visible tip of his turgid wee-wee would glide back and forth against the plastic pants, becoming oily with a greasy transparent substance whose nature the boy could not fathom. Was it pee? Saliva?? Or what? Well, at any rate it made the rubbing of the young boyhood against the plastics so much easier and nicer!

 

Funnily enough, his sister would take care more often of his diaper changes now, and she seemed to pay a lot of attention in spreading the baby cream well along the shaft of the happily throbbing gadget, which the lack of pubic hair made look even bigger than it actually was. And so her creamy hands would indulge on his firm sack and rub back and forth a few times the exuberant brat on her brother’s tummy, only “to make the cream spread better”, of course. He felt half embarrassed and half amused by the attention of his sister in those moments. As he had never touched his own beauty-beast before, but had always felt it under the bulk of his diapers when palpating their front, he tried at times to reach it and touch it during the diaper change, but a firm slap of her sister on his hand would make him desist and blush like a little kid – “You don’t do that in front of a lady, young man! Besides you know you can’t take care of it – What do you think you are in diapers for?” she would reprimand him. He would then take a look at his sister’s body, her clean shirt and skirt so tight on her body, revealing the absence of any bulging mass under her tiny thongs. She was so different from him, girls were so different from him! Indeed girls and boys belonged to two very different species!

 

“Wouldn’t you like to have one too?” he would ask.

 

“What? A smelly dribbling pisser in my clean panties? No thanks, I am glad to leave that to immature and irresponsible boys like you! If the world depended on dirty pee-pee carrier like yourself, dribbling their pee in all places and leaving stinky skids wherever they sit, well, I swear you, we’d be living in a horrible mess!”, she said taping his diaper.

 

“But sitting in your poop can be so nice!” he objected.

 

“That’s exactly the point! That’s why only a boy can tolerate, indeed like!, to be in those stupid thick crap-holders full time! A girl would find the very idea simply intolerable!”

 

Crap-holders? Girl, you better watch your language! he could hear Didee whispering in his mind, Tell her: Better in a “crap-holder” than torturing one’s ass-crack with those silly crap-cutters she’s wearing! making the boy burst out laughing.

 

“What?” would she say as she finished snapping the plastic pants on him.

 

“Well, better in a crap-holder than in a crap-cutter like the one you are wearing!” and laughed his head off.

 

“O, you’re just an envious little pissing brat!” she said, patting his diaper so violently that he felt a piercing pain in his balls, the thickness of the soaker notwithstanding.

 

“Ouch! GIRLS SUCK!” he shouted angry.

 

“And boys… stink!” she cheekily remarked.

 

The wet tip behind the translucent plastic pants did not go unnoticed by his parents, who decided to celebrate his twelfth birthday with a new set of bigger cloth soakers and bigger size disposables and plastic pants which could cover him slightly above his navel, making his naughty wet tip invisible again. His sister was in charge of having her brother inaugurate the new diaper that evening, and as he came back from the shower, one could tell immediately he was excited at the sight of it, as his merry private stood at attention to salute his wonderful birthday present. Once he lied down on the changing station, the young bird could not stop jumping up and down, bouncing on his belly to his sister’s amusement – “Look at that! The hopeless dribbler must be really happy to get a new diaper around him!”. But she turned to a more serious mood in a second and proceeded putting the baby cream on the boy with brisker movements than usual, as if in a hurry. The boy knew she was going to meet her new boyfriend in a few minutes and knew how much she was looking forward to it – well, anyone could have guessed that just by taking a look at her outfit! A new fire-red shirt enhancing the shape of her firm breasts and a shiny black miniskirt which hid very little of what was underneath, as she obviously was wearing her naughtiest thongs! Nevertheless he would have hoped she could devote more time to him on that special evening, though, on the other hand, he admitted to himself, her hurry also meant he would have had his new diaper on sooner!

 

With few rough brushes of her hands, she managed to cover with cream the whole diaper area. Apart from a couple of abrupt and harsh glides, not much of attention was paid to the boy’s rebellious colt, soon covered with powder and suffocated under the soft bulk of the new soaker. As his sister with unexpected vigour pulled the side hems of the disposable over his hips, tightening the new diaper to the maximum, the boy could feel his raging bullock revolt against that forceful taming, painfully pushing upwards, as if wanting to break free from the unbearable grip of the diaper. Was ‘he’ really upset? Or was it a game? The boy could not understand, though he certainly had the feeling that at the first rustle of the plastic pants crawling through his thighs, the tantrum of his ‘little brother’ grew wilder and wilder. Click! Clack! As the first two buttons of the baby pants snapped, he felt a tingling tension in his diaper he had never experienced before. It was similar to a stool blocking his sphincter muscles, but stronger! It was like a sneeze in the making, but more uncontrollable and demanding an immediate release. Click! Jolting throbs travelled from his anus to the tip of his boyhood with increasing frequency. O, that was so unsettling! He wanted it to stop! Stop! Clack! And as the last button snapped him in, he planted his feet and arched his back in a spasm, pushing his diaper as high as he could go, as if offering a gift to unknown gods, almost hitting his sister’s face with the plastic covered bulge!

 

For a moment he ceased to exist. Everything ceased to exist.

 

“AAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!” he moaned before lowering his abdomen again.

 

“What happened? You ok?”

 

Gooooood boooooooooy!!! shouted in his mind Didee’s voice.

 

“I… I… don’t know!” said the boy, “It is as if I sneezed in my diaper!”

 

“What? Oooo, I see. Well, don’t worry, it’s just another one of those messy things you boys do! I have to go know! Go to your bed! Nighty-night!” and she ran off, clearly not wishing to investigate further what had just happened to her brother.

 

He went to bed, exhausted like he had never felt before. He could feel a most bizarre stickiness on the part of his belly covered by the diaper, like a wetness the soaker could not absorb. He felt as if the diaper had been put on him with the plastic side facing inside! He checked by lifting the upper hem of his plastic pants and found out that the disposable plastic surface was facing outward, as usual. What was it then? He wished he could lift the diaper to see for himself, but his sister had made it so tight on him that all he could do was to insert a finger underneath it. He dipped the finger into the stickiness and took it out, covered with a strange opalescent whitish and runny goo. He approached the finger to his nose and smelled the most unusual pungent odour: like chlorine, or raw chestnuts.

 

“What is this, Didee?” he asked his best friend.

 

Adults call it sperm, but I like to call it… ‘boy juice’!

 

“Boy juice?” he asked, surprised that someone could imagine a boy like some sort of fruit!

 

Yep, it means my baby boy is getting bigger, he sighed, ...almost a man…

 

“You’re kidding me!” said the boy in disbelief.

 

I wish I was… did you like it?

 

“Well… I don’t know! I did not know what was happening to me!”

 

You had an orgasm, that’s what it is called… it means a moment of intense pleasure

 

“Pleasure?”

 

You’ll realise that the more you repeat it. I like it too, you know? All that gooey stuff percolating through my fabrics… one more thing to add to my collection of tastes and smells…

 

“How can I repeat it?” asked the boy curious.

 

Just stroke me from between your legs to your belly… I will take care of the rest… you wanna try it now?

 

“Ok!” he said, eager to try.

 

You want to switch the light off, though, you don’t want your parents to come in here as you do this…

 

The boy obeyed, and after putting the light off, he sneaked his right hand under the cover and started stroking as the diaper instructed. His exuberant foal responded immediately and filled the central section of the soaker, almost reaching the navel with its tip, happy to go for another ride. And again he felt it pushing upwards, getting harder and harder, as if wanting to emulate the strokes of the hand and caress the diaper from inside. The diaper seemed to appreciate and started stroking back more and more, affectionately and passionately at the same time, rubbing stronger and stronger, the cotton fabric wanting to explore every square millimetre of the boy’s excited companion. The boy opened his legs wider, for his hand to have a bigger surface to stroke on, his palm enjoying the sense of power emanating from the living bulge, the heat radiating from there to the whole body. The plastic pants glided back and forth around his sweaty legs and waist, swishing and rustling with fury, hissing high-pitched, compelling ‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!’, increasing in loudness and frequency, ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’, and he obeyed, infected by their sense of urgency. And as the violent embrace of Didee pressed his tormented rubber toy from all sides, twisting it, squeezing it without mercy, unsympathetically ignoring its pleads to stop, he felt the distressing tingling tension building up again, discharging megavolts of electricity between his wet anus and his sticky throbbing tip, sucking his whole body and the entire universe into the victorious diaper, until everything collapsed in on the wet tip and made it burst, gushing spurt after spurt of mighty boy juice for the bestial diaper to gobble with frenzy!

 

“AAAWWW! AAAWWW! AAAWWWWW!!!” moaned the boy like a wolf pup trying to free himself from a trap, only to find himself more entangled with each move and eventually decide to give up. And as he relaxed, he felt his boyhood resume its usual soft condition, gradually reverting to the baby pee-pee that had dwelled in his diaper since the very beginning. A warm tickle on his little sack notified that his little ‘friend’ had also resumed his most familiar function. As he enjoyed the pee trickling between his thighs, he thought of the amazing transformation this newly discovered Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde was capable of – from a state of vulnerable innocence to one of whimsical self-assertion. But was there only one Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde in this story? What about Didee? He had never felt him like that! He couldn’t believe his diaper could turn into such a wild animal, assaulting him like that, him, his best friend! Were there more characters with such a double nature? Was he the same boy as before? His last thought before tucking his thumb in his mouth and drifting into the soundest sleep…

 

He was in a huge empty space, rolling a big coin toward the invisible summit of a slope. The coin was so heavy and big, bigger than him! He could only roll it inch after inch, while most of the effort went into keeping it from rolling downwards. He leaned forward, against the coin, trying to make it advance by pushing with the whole of his body, each time putting one hand below the other on the circumference of the huge dime. Suddenly he felt the smooth white ground becoming wet and slippery, he looked down and saw his diapers were gone! And he was peeing! The surprise made him fell and lose grip on the coin, which rolled downwards, vanishing far away. Biting his lips with disappointment he looked at his own reflection in the wet ground and saw a man with a beard! Ahrg! He realised only then that he was covered with hair – his legs, his arms, his belly, his balls! Everything! Except… his head! He was bald! Ahhh!

 

“Honey, are you ok? It was just a dream!” he heard his mother saying.

 

“What?” he asked, feeling the wet sheets enshrouding him.

 

“My God! Look how drenched are your sheets!”

 

“But I have my diaper on!”

 

“That’s not pee, honey, its sweat! What did you dream?”

 

“I had to push a big coin on an endless slope and then saw I was big, hairy and bald!”

 

“Well,” said his father who had joined them in the meantime, “What’s a nightmare to you is a harsh reality to us!”

 

“O, don’t say such things to the boy, you’ll frighten him!” reproached him the mother, and then turned to the boy: “It’s ok, sweetheart, we’ll change your bed sheets and diaper so you can go to sleep again.”

 

He got out of the bed and mounted on the changing table, while his father took care of the sheets and his mother proceeded to the diaper change. His boyhood behaved until the diaper was removed, but then turned into Mr Hyde at the first touch of the baby wipes. To hide the embarrassment, his mother said: “I think I’m going to teach you how to diaper yourself one of these days…”. “U-huh” he replied, trying to look away from his throbbing fellow, almost pretending he did not have anything to do with it!

 

The torture was soon over, and the boy jumped back into new fresh sheets, enjoying their touch as much as the soft, cuddly bulge of the new diaper.

 

Nighty-night, son!”

 

“Night, mommy! Night, daddy!”

 

He was on a roller-coaster with his diaper cousin. The two boys were sharing the same narrow compartment, his cousin sitting in front of him on the same seat. He could feel the back of his cousin on his chest, while the carriage climbed toward the summit, rattling and vibrating, making the two diapers of the boys rub against each other. He tried to turn away from the feeling he got by his cousin’s diaper bumping his own, and took his nose off the baby scent emanating from his cousin nape to look downward. “My God! We are so high!” he said, seeing the buildings, the roads, the lake and everything else so small and getting smaller! “Where are we going?” he asked, as they passed a cloud and proceeded toward the sky, toward outer space! “Yuppie!” was the only thing his cousin said, obviously happy to be there. “Attach yourself to my wrists on the bar!” he told his cousin, “I can see the summit! We are gonna fall soon!”. The carriage rattled along the last thirty yards, while the diapers bounced against each other like two sacks of powder soap on a spinning washing machine, bump, bump, bump, bump, bump! The same tingling tension in his diaper again! The summit, at last! And as they began to fall, both boys shouted “Yahoo!” in unison, while the Earth got bigger and bigger. “Yahoo! I wanna stay like this forever!” he added, at which the carriage seemed to slow down its course. His cousin turned his face to him and asked:

 

“Do you really?”

 

“YES!”, he said, still inebriated by the sticky feeling inside his diaper, “I don’t wanna grow! I wanna be a 12-year-old diaper baby boy for ever!”

 

“That can be arranged, you know?” said the younger kid, with a mysterious tone of the voice.

 

“How? How? HOW? Tell me, please, tell me!!” he said, putting his chin on the shoulder of the young cousin.

 

Let me show you something first… said Didee’s voice, joining the conversation. And as the carriage resumed its previous free fall speed, he saw the Earth approaching, but staying of the same size! Oceans, continents, getting bigger and bigger, but all still in his vision field! Cities revealing the buildings and houses they were made of, houses revealing their rooms, everywhere, the whole world, all in his vision field! Now, look carefully… said the diaper. And he became aware of all the boys of the world, each and every one of them, and he could see them all – that 7-year-old peacefully sleeping in his wet diaper, that 12-year-old proudly running though the fields, those 10-year-olds bored by their teacher, that 5-year-old brat tormenting his patient doggie, the 8-year-old squeezing his pee pee in front of the toilet, older boys in a line comparing the length of their tools, younger boys betting on who could piss farthest… And then he became aware of the millions of boys peeing every second in the whole world – on the grass, against trees, in a toilet, in a swimming pool, in a diaper, in their pants… Every second on the planet millions of boys added their tributaries to a mighty torrent, flooding the world, marking their territory, claiming their share, proudly glorifying their gender!

 

I want them all! said the diaper.

 

“All??” said the boy.

 

Yeah! I want to enhance even further their staggering beauty by becoming the most precious of their adornments, by hiding their source of immense power to keep it safe and protected from the distractions of the world and focussed on what it does best! I want to tame their mighty, incontinent enthusiasm and have all that energy soaking my fabrics, nursing their boyhoods while feasting on their products! I want the exclusive on their pee and boy juice!

 

“Wow! What’s stopping you?” he asked, half amused.

 

Listen!

 

“What?”

 

Listen, listen!

 

He could hear now an ominous rumble, millions of litres of water flushing down through millions of toilets.

 

Do you hear that?

 

“Yeah! It’s impressive!” said the boy.

 

Impressive? It’s disgusting!

 

“Why? It’s just the sound of toilets flushing!”

 

No, no, no, my friend, it’s more than that – listen carefully and you’ll hear the most vulgar, raucous groan of satisfaction those white graceless pots can squeal, like a bunch of whores clearing their throats after a blow-job!

 

“Hey, what’s a blow-job?”

 

That’s not the point! Can’t you hear how they claim their victory over me? Can’t you hear their lewd mouths whispering obscenities to all those inexperienced willies, luring them into flooding their stiff and waxen throats with the most lavishing golden nectar? What a waste!

 

Geez, I’ve never looked at it that way!” he said.

 

Of course not, you are a good boy, you are my boy. But we have got to save all the other boys from those bestial sirens!

 

“But why only the boys? What about the girls?”

 

And who would take care of me while I take care of you boys? Besides, they can be my best allies in the enterprise – they know you boys can’t really keep yourself clean and that diapering you is the only way to contain your exuberance, for them to keep you under control, otherwise you’d take over the world once and for all!

 

“F***ing hell!” exclaimed the boy in astonishment, while his cousin laughed.

 

I have chosen you to help me in this most noble endeavour.

 

“Me?! Why me?” said the boy, certainly not feeling up to a job of such proportions.

 

You were introduced to me…

 

“Introduced? By whom?” he said in disbelief.

 

“Have a wild, wild guess!” said his cousin turning to him and exhibiting the cheekiest smile.

 

That smile! And in that moment he remembered everything – from the first time his cousin smiled to him while being changed in the living room in front of everybody to this very moment! The years without diapers, the bedwetting, his ‘rebirth’, his new life in diapers! He understood what had happened to him and why he had such confused memories about his past. He realised all memories were true, he had lived a life without diapers before this one!

 

“What… what are you?” he asked the diaper, half frightened.

 

I’m an idea. The idea of a boy wearing a diaper. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

“Where do you come from? Why did you do this to me? Why are you here?” said the boy, almost resentful.

 

I’m a relatively recent variant of another idea – the idea of a boy wanting to stay a baby. And that idea has been around for a long, long time, since the time the first baby sucked his mother’s breast. I don’t mean any harm, quite the opposite as a matter of fact, but like all ideas, like all beings, I’m competing for resources, I’m compelled to replicate myself, being copied from brain to brain, lest I fall into perennial oblivion. I came to you because you were more receptive than others, you only needed a little help, and your cousin here provided it, by showing you what it means to have me in your brain, to feel me in your brain, to be a part of you.

 

“You took control over me! You cheated me!” said the boy angrily.

 

Now, now, now! I’m no worse that any other idea in your mind. In fact, your mind, your personality is nothing but a huge collection of ideas which came from outside, that you picked up as you were growing. None of these ideas is you, if taken one by one, but you are the very result of all these ideas put together, you would not be without them! So I’m not leading you anymore than any other idea might do, though I was lucky to meet you before many other ideas of your personality did – that is my only real advantage. I have been with you for such a long time, that you might consider me one of the founders of your developing personality. Though I cannot claim that I am you, because I am also dwelling and propagating through the brains of other boys, I can certainly say that I am a part of you, and a very important one for that matter!

 

The boy stood silent. Thinking. Brooding. He could see his cousin’s diaper while resting his chin on his shoulder. No matter how hard he tried to picture the diaper as something ugly, stupid, ridiculous, evil, all he could see was that the white puffy shape on his cousin’s groin was nothing less than a miracle of enticing beauty! Why did he like diapers so much? Why? Why? Oh! Too much thinking! What difference would it made if he knew the answer? And what would be the purpose of fighting his love for them? Probably the diaper was right in saying that ‘he’ was a part of him!

 

Are you still interested in staying the diaper boy you are now forever?

 

“… yes” he said, almost inaudibly.

 

I didn’t hear that, what did you say?

 

“YES!” he shouted, “But how are you gonna do that?”

 

O, ideas can work miracles! I’ll help you if you help me…

 

“What do I have to do?”

 

Three things:

 

Get twelve boys older than three to wear diapers,

 

Have at least one of them getting twelve more boys into wearing diapers the following year,

 

And never, ever touch your boyhood with naked hands, but only through your diaper.

 

“But how? I hardly know any boys! And why shouldn’t I touch my puppy!”

 

You know a few boys already, besides your cousin will help you with some useful… techniques! And I’m sure your sister can be a resource too! As for touching: Babies can experience their pee pee only through their diapers – if you touch it, ‘it’ will ‘think’ that you are no longer a baby, and you’ll begin to grow old again, got it? Follow the instructions and as from now you won’t get a day older, agreed?

 

“You got a deal!” he shouted enthusiastically, marking his agreement with a squeeze and a double pat on his cousin’s front diaper.

 

“Welcome to the team, ‘Baby-Bro’!”, said his cousin kissing him. He had just been baptised with his favourite nickname.

 

Hope you’ve liked it so far. For comments: [email protected]