FOREVER IN DIAPERS: PART 201 ---------------------------- After I got home from babysitting the twins I called Tony and asked him if he could have a sleepover, especially since we had a big day planned tomorrow. His mom said yes, as she usually does. I asked my Mom and she said, “Okay, but we’re starting dinner with or without him,” Mom said. “He’ll be here right away,” I told Mom. “He’d better be fast, because it’s only going to be about five or ten minutes,” Mom said as she was checking on the spaghetti noodles. “Spaghetti, all right!” I said as I lifted the lid and sampled one of the nearly cooked noodles. I held it above me and then guided it into my mouth as if it were a worm. I then dipped my finger into the spaghetti sauce, only to have Mom scold me. “Don’t stick your finger in there!” Mom said. “Did you wash your hands when you got home?” “Uh, yeah,” I said. “I bet you didn’t,” Mom replied as she grabbed my hand and examined it. “just what I thought, now go wash up,” Mom told me. Mom then patted me on my diapered butt as I exited the kitchen. As I approached the bathroom I saw the door was closed and the light was on. Since Lisa was at work I figured it had to either be Cindy or Dad. Judging by the sound of the fart I heard going into the toilet I figured it had to be dad. Contrary to popular belief, girls do fart, but nobody could fart like my dad. I stood outside the bathroom door and waited, giggling as I heard Dad fart again, with the sound resonating in the confines of the toilet bowl. I then realized, “Damn, since he’s pooping, it’s gonna stink in there!” In the meantime, Cindy came out of her bedroom and she saw me standing there waiting to get into the bathroom. “Since when do you stand outside the bathroom door?” she asked. “Isn’t that why you wear these diapers?” “Mom told me to wash my hands,” I said. “I do still go in there, you know.” Since I realized that Dad might be a couple more minutes I went into my bedroom and got some of the diaper club materials ready, including the handful of responses I received from the girls at school today. I looked at Cheri Bothwell’s response and then cogitated on what she wrote about her brother. I thought about what she looked like and thought about how the words she wrote were the product of her mind and her observations, that she felt sufficiently motivated to share such details about her brother’s diapers with me. Not wanting to disturb the moment, I didn’t bother to get up to close the door, deciding to “chance it” as I lay in my crib and rubbed myself. I imagined what her brother looked like in thick diapers (using Derek’s image in my mind) and thought about him joyfully making a big, warm shit-stinky mess in his thick white diapers, never wearing pants so that Cherie can see every square inch of his big diapered butt. Within minutes I was ejaculating in my diapers once again. In my ecstasy I was oblivious to the fact that Cindy had been standing there silently watching me indulge in my diapers. She continued to remain silent as I breathed hard and heavy, letting myself cool down and relax as I savored such a dazzling orgasm. After having kept my eyes closed while I continued to idly rub myself, I opened them enough to see that Cindy had been standing there. “Holy shit!” I exclaimed. “Dinner’s ready,” she said. “Dad’s out of the bathroom.” “Thanks,” I said, hoping she would not say anything more. I knew she wanted to say something, but she seemed to be satisfied by just standing there staring at me, knowing that I had suddenly become starkly aware of her presence. She gave me a knowing smile as I turned off the light and walked past her. “So who was it this time? Megan?” Cindy asked me. “Cindy, zippeth thy lips,” I said, knowing that I’d get in trouble if I told her to shut up. “What? Whoever you were thinking about, she must have been diapering you good!” “Okay, so you caught me. I’m 12 years old, almost 13, and most boys my age do that sort of thing. It’s called puberty, or hormones.” “ “Chris, I wasn’t born yesterday. And besides, I learned all about you boys way back when I was nine!” “Kids! Come on! Dinner’s ready!” I heard Mom shout from the kitchen. “Coming, mother!” Cindy said. “What about Chris?” Mom asked her. “He already came,” she said as she smiled back at me. “Excuse me?” Mom said. “I thought I told that boy to wash his hands!” “If he didn’t wear diapers he’d definitely need to wash his hands, that’s for sure!” Cindy said. I couldn’t see Mom, but I could only imagine the disapproving look she must have had on her face. I figured I’d better wash up or Mom wouldn’t let me sit at the table. The fart fan was running, but the smell of dad’s bowel movement still lingered in the bathroom. Even the Citrus-scented Glade spray couldn’t mask the odor completely. While I washed my hands I thought about what imagery I used to bring myself to such a powerful climax. I didn’t want to admit it, but I felt like I had cheated on Megan by thinking about Cherie while masturbating. After all, Cherie was the one with diaper-wearing brothers, not Megan. On the other hand, it wasn’t like Megan and I were a steady boyfriend/girlfriend item, but in my mind I liked to think that we were. Dammit, now I couldn’t get this conflict out of my mind. I figured once Tony got here we’d be engaged in other activities anyway. Speaking of whom, where the hell was he? I hardly rubbed my hands on the towel, so my hands were for the most part still wet as I left the bathroom. “Is Tony here?” I asked my Mom. “Do you see Tony?” Dad asked me as he scooped up a big serving of spaghetti. “No,” I said. I looked behind me out into the living room just to make sure he wasn’t there. “Then why should I belabor your question by bothering to answer it when Tony’s absence makes that answer abundantly and self-evidently clear?” Dad asked me while looking over his glasses. He obviously had another bad day at work, and he didn’t seem to realize how much he was belaboring my question with his sarcasm. “Okay, then I guess he’s not here,” I said as I nervously took my spot at the table. “Isn’t Tony coming?” Mom asked. “Maybe that’s what’s holding him up,” Cindy snickered as she grabbed a slice of garlic bread. “You should have seen what Chris was doing in his room!” “Cindy, we’re at the dinner table, and your dad had a trying day, so let’s not hear it,” Mom scolded Cindy sternly. “Sorry,” Cindy replied with a look of resentment, mocking Mom by silently mouthing “let’s not hear it” as she slunk down into her chair, only for Mom to scold her and tell her to sit upright. “You know, somehow I don’t feel welcome at the dinner table tonight!” Cindy stated as she picked up her plate. “I think I’m just gonna go eat in the living room!” “You eat in here, young lady,” Mom said. Cindy groaned and resumed eating. “Fine,” she grumbled as she returned to her seat. At least a minute of awkward silence passed as I dished up some spaghetti, salad and garlic bread. “That time of the month, eh?” I remarked, just to break the heavy vocal silence that was only punctuated by the sounds of clinking utensils and dishes as we all ate. “Chris, what did I just say?” Mom scolded me. It was hard to eat and feel relaxed knowing that Tony was supposed to be on his way. I began to worry that maybe Chuck or Steve or some other asshole from school had jumped him for sticking a prescreener form in his locker. A lot of worst-case scenarios ran through my mind. I asked Mom if I could call Tony. “Finish your dinner, dear,” Mom said. “There’s plenty to go around, and if the food gets cold, that’s what the microwave is for.” As I was about to resume eating the doorbell rang. “Good!” I said as I got up. “Chris, stay seated!” Mom said as she had gotten up to get some dishes for Tony. She then answered the door and let Tony in. “Dude, it’s about time!” I said. Tony was out of breath. “What happened?” “I’ll tell you as soon as I catch my breath,” he said, still winded. He removed his jacket and tossed it on the couch. “Tony, go have a seat and I’ll make you up a plate,” Mom told him. Tony joined us at the table where Lisa had usually sat. “Ahh, ahh, ahh! Not yet!” Cindy said as she saw Tony sit down. “I know, I know, wash my hands,” Tony said. “And take your pants off!” Cindy replied. “In fact, do that first! You know the rules here!” Tony had no problem complying with this request (demand, more like it) as he removed his pants and stripped down to his diapers, which I could clearly see were wet and sagging with poop in the seat (he only wore one diaper when he had to wear pants, too). The sight of his diapered butt with poop was just enough to reinvigorate my recently spent hard-on. A couple minutes later Tony returned to the dinner table. He had since caught his breath and had cooled down. “So, what happened, why were you late? You sound like you were hurrying?” “I was,” he said as he took his first bite of the spaghetti. “What for?” I asked. “Well, I’ll have to tell you when we go to your room. I don’t think I will be able to tell this story without using words that your mom and dad would not approve of.” At this moment Dad glared at him and then at me. “Well, join the club; it seems like just about everybody else had a bad day, too,” I said. “Well, I didn’t, at least.” To warn Tony I then leaned over to him and whispered, “My dad had a bad day at work, and I think Cindy’s on the rag.” “I heard my name,” Cindy said. “Cindy, let it go,” Mom said. Once we finished dinner Tony and I went off to my bedroom while Cindy stayed to help Mom with the dishes. Dad went into the living room to catch what was left of a football game on TV. “So, like, what happened?” I asked Tony as he set his diaper bag down and got out three diapers, preparing to change his diaper (or have me do it). He poked holes in the first diaper as he always did when wearing multiple diapers. He then asked me to change his diapers for him and he would tell me the story while I was changing him. “You’ll never guess who harassed me on the way over,” Tony said. “I knew it!” I said. “Knew what?” Tony asked. “I knew that was the reason you were late coming over here! Damn those fuckers! Who was it?” “Chuck, who the fuck else?” Tony said. “Chuck’s been in juvie all week, and now that he’s out, he says he’s gonna kill us.” “He’s so full of shit, I wouldn’t take his threats too seriously,” I said. “I dunno, Chris, that is one fucking messed-up kid. I think he meant it this time, because he pulled a knife on me.” “Holy shit!” I exclaimed as I removed Tony’s soiled diaper. “So what did he do?” “He came up from behind me. Him and Steve must have been hiding and waiting for me to come out of my house, so then instead of making a surprise attack, they quietly followed me. I thought I heard someone behind me, but when I looked I didn’t see anyone, so he must have ducked out of view behind a car or something. Then after I kept going I realized he was right behind me and I’m thinking, ‘Shit!’. He tried to kick at my bike and make me crash, but I kept away from him. Then he hopped off his bike and jumped on me and tackled me to the ground. That’s when he pulled the knife.” “What kind of knife was it?” I asked. “I dunno, but it was more than just a steak knife. It was a seriously piece of cutlery, that’s for sure!” “So what did he do then?” “He pinned me to the ground and pressed the knife to my neck. Tony then lifted his chin and pointed to where he said he could feel the mark.” “Damn! He actually cut into your skin!” I said. “I know. I looked at it in the mirror when I was washing my hands. Anyway, he sat and me and said, ‘Listen, you little faggot fuck, I just spent a week in juvie because of your shitty-assed butt buddy! Do you know what that shithole’s like?!’ And that’s when I said, ‘Since I’ve never been there, no.’ And then I said, ‘At the rate you’re going, I’d get used to it.’ Then he said, ‘I’d kill you right now, and then I’d kill your friend, but we think you two deserve to be tortured some more before we do.’ He even said, ‘I should cut your dick off just so you don’t keep spreading AIDS, you fucking piece-of-shit fudge-packing faggot!” “And then what?” I asked as I cringed at what Tony was relaying to me. “Then he spat in my face and punched me in the chest when he got up,” Tony said. He then rode off and said, ‘Don’t bother watching for us. We’ll strike when you least expect it!’” “Was Steve with him?” “Nope, because now he’s in the kiddie clink! Chuck said that as soon as Steve gets out they’re gonna get a bunch of other kids together from juvie and then have them all beat the shit out of us!” “I’d call your mom and tell her what happened,” I said as I finished taping up Tony’s first diaper. “Actually, we need to let the police know about this.” “The police? Really?” Tony said, somewhat incredulous of my suggestion. “Tony, he made death threats, and he pulled a fucking knife! I’d be scared shitless!” “I was, didn’t you see my diapers?” Tony remarked. “Seriously, Tony, This guy needs to be stopped before he becomes the next Charles Manson!” As soon as I got Tony’s diapers changed we washed our hands and went out to the kitchen, where Mom was loading up the dishwasher. “Mom, can we talk to you?” I asked her. “Why, what’s wrong?” Mom asked. “Tony, you tell her the story, okay?” We sat down across from Mom at the kitchen table while Tony told her the story about Chuck’s threats. He also showed Mom the small, but ever-visible wound on his neck. “I’m going to call your mother, and then one of us is going to call the police.” “See, I told you we need to call the police,” I said to Tony. After my Mom rang Tony’s mom she asked to speak to Tony. Up to now Tony managed to keep his emotions in check, but once he told the story to his mother he began to cry. His mother must have managed to console him over the phone. She said she would then contact the police and tell them what happened. About ten minutes later the phone rang again. It was Tony’s mom, who said she was going to come over since the police were going to also come to my house to take statements from us. Dad wasn’t too pleased, but he wasn’t mad at us and he was glad that this level of bullying was being dealt with appropriately. Cindy was told to stay in her room and not interfere during the forthcoming interview. “You boys better put some pants on,” Mom said. As much as I hated to do it, I realized that I would need to wear my sweat pants while the police were here. Tony’s mom showed up first, and then a moment later two police officers arrived. Mom invited them in. They introduced themselves as Detective Votroubek and Sgt. Stanley. I wasn’t sure if they would ask about the thick bulges in my pants and in Tony’s (he had to wear my sweat pants since his own pants did not fit over the multiple disposable diapers I put on him). The police mostly asked Tony and his mother the questions. One of them took a photo of the injury on Tony’s neck. They also took statements from me, where I cited several instances in which Chuck and his friend Steve had harassed us outside of school. I told the police where these cretins lived. “So, are you gonna go to their house and arrest them?” I asked one of the officers. “We can only make an arrest if we witness the crime ourselves or are presented with reasonable evidence,” he said. “Tony’s neck is evidence,” I said. “It’s circumstantial evidence. That means it points to suspicions of a crime but it doesn’t necessarily prove that Chuck or Steve did it.” “So what can you do?” Tony’s mother asked. “We will speak to these boys and their parents, but since the case involves juveniles, there is only so much we can do.” “In other words, you can’t do anything?” Tony’s mother exclaimed. “Officer, with all due respect, why don’t you arrest this punk?! This kid put a knife to my son’s throat! That’s borderline attempted murder!” “Ma’am, we understand you are very concerned, but juvenile law is much different; namely, the responsibility lies with the parents.” “Then arrest them! Hell, they’re probably doing drugs or neglecting their kids! This is how these things usually turn out!” “We’ll talk to the families involved, and then we’ll contact Child Protection Services if the situation warrants it.” “What we do in the meantime?” Dad asked, having sat silent until now. “For starters, make sure your doors and windows are locked.” “We already do that,” my Mom said. “The light in the driveway also turns on automatically.” “Good. I’d also advise your boys not to be out after dark, even if it’s before curfew.” “What about in the daytime?” I asked. “I’d just be careful, and I’d stay away from where you tend to see these other boys,” Officer Stanley advised. “Do you really think these boys mean as much harm as they are threatening?” my Mom asked the officers. “A lot of kids are all talk, and even the ones who pull weapons won’t go through with it.” “But how can you be sure? You read about child murderers all the time,” Tony’s mom said. “You also read about plane crashes all the time. The reason you read about it is because it’s news, and the reason it’s news is because it doesn’t happen often,” the officer stated. “Look, I know you’re concerned, and you have every right to be concerned. You boys might want to consider attending a free seminar held at the library the third Saturday of each month, which happens to be tomorrow. It’s called ‘Staying Streetwise’. “But what if these bullies attack my son again?” Tony’s mom asked. “Or my son?” my Mom joined in. “If you’re really fearful, you might just want to stay off the streets altogether, at least until this whole matter blows over. You might have to rely on your parents to drive you around. Rest assured, we will talk to the other parties involved. Have a good night, folks.” The police officers then left. At that moment Cindy came out to the front room. Obviously she had been listening in. “So what happened?” “We just talked to the police, told them what happened to Tony, and they gave us some advice on avoiding problems,” my mom answered. “Tony, what ever you do, don’t go out riding your bikes tomorrow, not even if it’s daytime.” “We won’t,” Tony said. “You boys better stay home until further notice,” Mom said. “Damn!” I thought, and I was even more pissed at Chuck for causing all of this in the first place. Mom could see me pouting. “I know, you probably had some plans, but you can’t take the risk right now, Chris. Let’s wait until after we hear back from the police.” “Can you drive us?” I asked Mom. “Depends on where you want to go, when, and why,” Mom said. “You boys try to relax and enjoy the rest of your evening.” With this, Tony and I stripped off our pants and went to my bedroom where we remained for much of the evening. We talked more about Chuck and what we hoped the police would do. To get off the subject we talked about what we had originally planned to talk about, which of course, was to further help establish the Wear the Pants Club for the girls. We then did the usual fun stuff, such as playing video games, writing diaper stories and drawing diapered boys with their pants-clad sisters. After midnight we went to bed.