MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: PART 11
---------------------------------

	When it was time to return to school, I was given back my pants again, 
after sitting in a closet somewhere all this time. They still had the cherry pie 
stain that had dripped on them when I was eating some on Christmas, which was 
several days ago.
	I was back to wearing only one pair of underpants again. While I didn't 
think anyone would see my underwear (which made me glad I didn't have gym 
class), I tried to find a stain-free pair. Some of my larger-sized pairs only 
sustained damage in the front from pee soaking through, but they were still 
clean in the back as I never wore these pairs close enough to the bottom of the 
stack for them to get any poop stains. I had gotten used to the bulky padded 
feeling that I had been enjoying for so long and it felt different to be "back 
to normal."
	I was getting my coat on when mom said, "I really hope you've learned your 
lesson, Michael. You might want to consider the consequences of your actions, 
since you won't get off so easily next time!"
	"Okay, I will," I said to mom as I left for the bus. Just to make sure I 
heard her, she said, "you might think about what going to school will be like if 
you do this again!"
	On the way to school I thought about what mom meant by "you won't get off 
so easily next time." Was I going to get put into diapers full time? Would I get 
spanked even harder and longer if I were caught pooping in my underwear or 
Billy's underwear again? I decided that telling my family about it was the only 
way I could resolve this problem, because I knew I would do it again!
	For the first time in over a week I used a toilet. I went into the school 
bathroom just before my first class started. As I stood at the urinal and looked 
down at my underpants, I was reminded of my recent treatment at home by the 
yellow stains that tarnished the formerly white fabric. Once again I thought of 
how glad I was not to be in gym class this year.
	For the first time in over a week I got to see Billy. I felt uneasy about 
how he felt after he had his underpants returned to him, knowing that this 
secret of his, having to wear diapers, became known to my family. He seemed to 
be okay when I saw him in art class, but I couldn't openly talk to him about 
much of anything until lunch.
	We went to an isolated area on the playing field and talked things over. 
Billy knew that his cover had been blown and everyone in my family knew why he 
wore diapers. I told him to just ignore Katie's remarks and he'd be okay. He was 
quite interested in what I told him about having to go for several days being 
pinned into my underpants and peeing and pooping in them so many times. I 
enjoyed telling him I had spent over a week without ever using a toilet. But 
Billy went one-up on me when he said, "I think I was five or six when I last 
used a toilet." He sounded like he was bragging about it having been so long for 
him.
	Billy then told me about all things he did on the Internet over Christmas 
break and he was anxious for me to come over to see some of the sites he had 
visited. I was especially looking forward to seeing the places from which he 
obtained the other diaper stories.
	For the first time in over two weeks I was at Billy's house. He was so 
excited to show me the Internet and the things he was getting off of it and 
talked about it all the way to his house after we left school for the day.
	I watched Billy sign himself onto the Internet and check his e-mail. He 
received two new messages, both from other boys with whom he had been 
corresponding. Like him, they enjoyed wearing diapers and had similar childhood 
experiences. I had to feel sorry for one of them who said he was often spanked 
for wetting his bed.
	"How did you find these guys?" I asked Billy. "You just go out and tell 
people that you wear diapers?"
	"Yeah. I posted a message to the diaper group and..."
	"Diaper group?" I asked curiously.
	"Yeah! They have all these discussion groups, and you wouldn't believe 
some of the other ones I found. I thought it was pretty cool they had one on 
diapers."
	"And everyone sees it?"
	"Everyone else who reads the diaper group," Billy said. "I'll show you in 
a minute. Check out some of the other e- mail I've gotten. There are a lot of 
kids out there wearing diapers! A lot of them are bedwetters like me, some are 
like you and they just like to wear diapers. One kid even said he and his 
brother were home-schooled and they never wore anything but diapers unless they 
had to leave the house, which wasn't often. They mentioned that they have never 
once used a toilet, and he's twelve now; his brother is fourteen. I can't even 
say that, since I did use the toilet a couple of times."
	Billy showed me some of the e-mail responses that he printed out and kept 
in a separate notebook. I asked Billy if he could copy some of these e-mail 
messages to a disk for me to read later when I got home. I couldn't wait to read 
some of the testimonies from so many other kids who were diaper freaks just like 
Billy and me.
	It was amazing to me to think that this technology could easily bring 
people from all over the world with the same interests together. I couldn't go 
around school and ask people if they liked wearing diapers. On the Internet, 
within the appropriate forum, it was already known that the others with whom you 
corresponded did.
	While the Internet brought together people with similar interests, not 
everyone completely agreed with you, as Billy attested.
	"There were a couple responses I didn't keep," he said. "One guy wrote to 
me and said I was too young to be in this group. I just ignored it and deleted 
it. I got a few good responses from adults, too, though I don't know what my mom 
and dad would think of that, exchanging e-mail with adults on wearing diapers."
	Next Billy showed me the diaper group that he was talking about. It was 
listed as "alt.sex.fetish.diapers." I was quite amazed that such a group existed 
on the Internet, but then, when I looked at some of the other group titles, it 
was really no surprise at all.
	"I was surprised, too" Billy commented. "I didn't think there were so many 
people in the world who liked to wear diapers. I did a search on the newsgroup 
list for the word 'diaper', and there it was!"
	"Let's see it!" I said, impatient to see how this whole Internet thing 
worked. Billy then brought up the list of articles posted in the 
alt.sex.fetish.diapers group.
	When the list came up on the screen, I was expecting every topic to be 
about wearing diapers, such as stories and other related discussions. I was 
surprised and disappointed to see so many posts that had nothing to do with 
wearing diapers at all, but rather, with sex in general. There were all kinds of 
posts telling us to visit this triple-X site or that triple-X site and the like.
	Billy had learned quite a few things about using the Internet and shared 
some of his newly-acquired vocabulary. For example, he referred to all the 
irrelevant posts as "spam" and the offending people who posted it as "spammers."
	"People on this group say it used to not be this way, but now it's all 
spam now," Billy lamented. "Every once in a while you see something good, but 
you do end up skipping over most of it."
	"Have you ever posted anything else on here?" I asked Billy. "Like your 
stories?"
	"Not yet. I've been sharing them with the people I e- mail, and they like 
them. I might start posting them soon."
	"Can you post my stories, or at least share them with those other kids?"
	"Sure, if you want me to," Billy offered.
	"Tell them about me, too."
	"I have. They'd love to write to you, if only you had an e-mail address."
	After we went through a list of about 60 entries, most of them of no 
substance whatsoever (i.e. spam), Billy switched over to what was called a web 
browser and showed me some of the Web sites that he had accessed.
	"Web sites are better," he said. "They've got graphics, and there's no 
damn spam and other shit!"
	Billy then started clicking his way to several Web sites that he had 
"bookmarked" on his browser so that he could quickly call them up. Just as much 
as I was amazed that there was a discussion group on wearing diapers, I was 
equally amazed that there were also so many web sites out there on wearing 
diapers! Many of them included stories just like the ones Billy and I liked to 
write ourselves. He clicked on a title, highlighted and underlined on the 
screen, and brought it up instantly. We both sat there and read it, commenting 
on it as we went along. I was also rubbing myself, not accustomed to having only 
my pants and one pair of briefs between my hand and my hard-on. I wanted to play 
with myself so bad.
	Our reading pleasure was abruptly halted when Kevin suddenly barged in on 
us.
	"I'd like to use the phone," he said. "What are you guys doing?"
	Kevin walked closer to the screen and read some of the text that was 
displayed.
	"Diapers! Should have known!" he commented. "You and your diaper-geek 
friends, man! Just like Michael!"
	"I don't have any on," I said.
	"Because you had to give them back, huh? Do you remember how to use a 
toilet now that you're not wearing 'em?" he asked me sarcastically. Kevin was 
just as antagonizing and brutal to Billy as Katie was to me.
	"Shut up, Kevin!" Billy shouted. The two of them continued to argue.
	"We'll get off in just a minute," Billy kindly said to Kevin.
	"Dammit! I need to use the phone!" Kevin shouted, ready to strangle his 
brother at this point. "A kid at school owes me money!"
	"So?" Billy said.
	"I need to find out if he's home, and if his mom isn't, so get off of 
there! NOW!"
	The scene had become quite ugly now. It had been awhile since I last saw 
Kevin, and in that time he seemed to have become very belligerent and violent, 
not that he was ever very amicable to begin with. He had his hands around 
Billy's neck! This could kill him! I backed away for fear I'd fall prey to 
Kevin's wrath.
	To avert further trouble, Billy grudgingly closed the web browser and 
signed off just to avoid a fight with his brother. He had become so hostile 
lately and had even abandoned his friend Peter and started hanging out with 
other kids at school. According to Billy, his parents were afraid that Kevin was 
using drugs. I found this hard to believe. I certainly couldn't imagine Billy 
doing drugs. He was, after all, a little boy as far as he was concerned.
	As further evidence of Kevin's deteriorating behavior, Billy told me about 
an incident that occurred on New Year's Eve when Kevin and his new friends got 
into trouble for being out after curfew.
	"Kevin smelled of cigarettes when we picked him up from the police station 
that night," Billy related. What a way to start the year!"
	Billy had saved the story that we were in the middle of reading and 
brought it back up. The story Billy and I happened to be reading was about a 
mother who decided to keep her son as a baby and not allow him to grow up. The 
story's premise was that as kids grow up, they get into trouble and cause harm 
to themselves and to others. Gangs, teen sex and pregnancy, rape, drugs, 
alcohol, guns, violence and other forms of totally destructive behavior are the 
problems that are destroying today's kids and tomorrow's society.
	The boy in this story was kept in diapers and treated like a baby. He was 
never toilet trained and was home- schooled so that he didn't have to attend a 
public school where he would be subjected to the negative influences of the 
other kids. He was taught to be fearful of the outside world and to stay close 
to his mommy. He isn't a normal kid, but he sure does behave well and never, 
ever disobeys his mom.
	He grew up completely immune to the societal ills that plague many other 
kids his age. He does not know of drugs or gangs, and he thinks that only 
mature, responsible adults use guns for sporting purposes and for their 
protection. His mom has successfully raised him in a world that has kept him 
insulated and secure, oblivious to the cruel world that surrounds him.
	He's thirteen years old and still wears diapers. Now that he has come of 
age, he often masturbates in his diapers because it feels good. His mom says 
that it's okay to do that because it makes him feel good, anything to encourage 
him to keep wearing diapers and never grow out of his babyish feelings. He only 
knows of diapers as a sexual turn- on instead of the opposite sex, and therefore 
has no urge to go out with girls and possibly get them pregnant. He gets 
confused, however, when he sees girls and gets the same feelings that he gets 
when he gets diapered. He wants a girl to change his diapers sometime because he 
thinks this will feel really good since both girls and diapers and make him feel 
this way. He wishes he had a sister to do this for him. What a mixed-up kid, I 
thought, kind of like me.
	The story seemed to have been written as if it were true, even though I 
couldn't imagine any kid being shielded from the outside world so much that he 
had such distorted and uninformed perceptions of the way things really are. It 
sounded exciting, though, and perhaps it was a good idea for parents to treat 
their children this way to keep them out of trouble.
	It was too late for Kevin, as he was well aware of what kinds of things 
the kids at school did, and he was even allegedly becoming a part of it. It 
seemed so ironic that we were reading such a story about a parent who prevents 
potentially unruly behavior from taking over her innocent child, which was 
exactly what Kevin had demonstrated. He was screaming on the phone threatening 
to kick the crap out of the kid who owed him money.
	"Dammit! The f**ker hung up!" Kevin shouted as he slammed the phone down. 
"I'm going over to kick his ass! Right now!" He slammed the door hard enough to 
rattle the window in the computer room. Billy shook his head in shame and 
embarrassment.
	"He's gotten so out of control lately! I think I should let mom see this 
story! Maybe mom can use some of the ideas in it and it will keep Kevin out of 
more trouble."
	"Okay," I said. "But who gets to hold him down to diaper him?"
	"My dad. He's pretty big, as you've seen," Billy said. Before I left for 
home Billy copied off the files he downloaded from today's Internet session and 
handed me the disk.
	"You'd better go, unless you want to stick around and find out what kind 
of trouble Kevin gets into this time."
	"Are you going to show your mom that story?" I asked, wondering if this 
was what Billy meant by having me stick around to find out what kind of trouble 
Kevin will get into.
	"I should," Billy said. "It'd be for Kevin's own good. I hate to see him 
get mixed up with those other kids."
	I decided that it was better for me to leave at that point. I needed to 
get home anyway since my teachers all felt we needed a ton of homework to do 
after the break, not to mention semester finals were approaching.
	"How was school?" Katie asked me.
	"It was fine," I answered as I walking straight to my room.
	"How does it feel to be back to normal and using toilets like the rest of 
us?" she taunted me. "Or was it normal the other way?"
	I didn't say anything back to her as I cracked open one of my books and 
began my big load of school work. I decided to break away from it when mm got 
home. I wanted to ask her about getting the Internet on our computer. I told her 
about all the neat things Billy showed me, just that I didn't mention that they 
were diaper stories and diaper-related web sites.
	"I don't know if you deserve it after all the trouble you've gotten 
yourself into lately" she said.
	"Please mom, I'm sorry about all that," I apologized profusely.
	"Oh you are, huh?" mom replied as if she didn't feel that I was being 
serious.
	"I'll never do it again, I promise!" I begged. Whether or not I could 
maintain my promise was uncertain, but for now all I wanted to do was to at 
least convince mom that I had mended my ways. Mom still wasn't buying into it.
	"We'll discuss it with your father, but even if he says it's okay, I don't 
think you deserve it, Michael. I don't think you'll ever change, but we'll see."

MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: PART 12
---------------------------------

	Later that evening during dinner, Mom and Dad discussed getting the 
Internet. Dad addressed his concerns about it, such as that it would tie up the 
phone line, that it would cut into our other activities and interfere with 
homework, that strangers would be preying on Katie and I, and that we would have 
access to pornography and other illicit materials. Mom seemed to be in favor of 
the idea as she wanted Katie and I to have access to the Internet to assist us 
in our schoolwork. Mom also mentioned that she would like to use the Internet 
herself and told Dad that if he could get over his technophobia he might even 
get some usefulness from it.
	It wasn't until just before bedtime before Katie and I were about to go to 
bed before we were called out to the front room and were told what our parents' 
decision was over getting Internet access. Mom did most of the talking while Dad 
just sat there and nodded in agreement and grunted an occasional "yes." I was 
very excited to hear that we would be getting on the Internet, but the "yes" 
answer was delivered with a lot of restrictions and rules that we were to obey. 
Katie and I were each allowed a half hour per night with one hour on Friday 
nights. Saturdays were pretty much free, just as long as we didn't tie up the 
line for an unreasonably long period of time or log on several times a day. Only 
after completing homework and other chores were we allowed to get on, and once 
there, we were not to go into any pornographic web sites. We were also told that 
the primary purpose of getting Internet access in the first place would be to 
assist Katie and me with our schoolwork.
	There was one more stipulation that was handed down, and it applied only 
to me. I had gotten ready for bed by and all I had on were my underpants (just 
one pair again) and a shirt. The crotch of my briefs was exposed, showing as a 
wide, white strip of cotton running up between my legs, tarnished with stains 
from being forced to keep them on to the point of pooping in them, a permanent 
reminder of my recent punishment.
	Mom pointed down at my crotch as I was sitting before her and Dad.
	"You'd better keep those underpants clean, too!"
	Katie jabbed me in the forearm and giggled. She must have gotten some 
satisfaction in knowing that this particular agreement to keep my underwear 
clean was only directed towards me and not her.
	"I said I'll never do it again," I said again.
	"Do what, Michael?" Katie asked me. "Go poo-poo in your underwear?"
	"He'd better NOT go poo-poo in his underwear!" Mom reiterated. "If he 
does, then he loses his privileges! Agreed?"
	"Yes, Mom" I replied with embarrassment. Katie was rolling on the floor 
laughing at this point. As we got up and went to bed, Katie kept saying to me 
all the way to my room, "Better not poop! Better not poop! Better not poop!" I 
was ready to turn around and slug her a good one in the stomach but my 
conscience restrained me as I didn't want to do anything at this point to blow 
my forthcoming Internet access privileges.
	I was so excited to tell Billy about it the next day.
	"Cool! I can e-mail you, we can send stories back and forth! We can chat! 
We can--"
	"I wouldn't get too excited," I cautioned. "My parents are going to be 
really strict about it when I get on, how long I can be on, which sites I go to, 
shit like that, you know."
	"Do you think you'll get to go to the diaper sites?"
	"I dunno," I said to Billy. "I may have to sneak out of bed overnight and 
check them out. Can you give me a list of sites?"
	"Sure. I'll e-mail it to you when you get your account."
	I had to wait until after dinner that evening to log on. Mom had already 
set up the software and issued each of us an e-mail address. The rules were 
effective immediately, meaning Katie and I each had a half hour to explore the 
Internet. When I got on I sent an e-mail message to Billy and told him to send 
the list of diaper web sites he had for me. For now I decided to "keep it clean" 
and look for web sites that catered to some of my other interests that I didn't 
mind anyone else knowing. Billy must have been online at the time I e-mailed him 
because he replied back right away and included a list of about thirty different 
web sites. Some of them look so exciting just by their names. I couldn't wait to 
check them out.
	I waited until Friday night to take advantage of my one-hour allotted time 
to check out the diaper sites. Katie was over at Vicki's house that night and 
Mom and Dad were each doing their own things. I had enough privacy to see what I 
really wanted to see on the Internet and had an entire hour to do it, maybe more 
if Mom and Dad weren't paying too much attention. Billy sent me another e-mail 
message and gave me a list of his story ideas and invited me to try writing some 
for him.
	During my session, which ran to an hour and a half without Mom and Dad 
knowing, I found six more stories that I liked and printed them out to read in 
bed for the next few nights. They were enough to hold me over until the next 
time I could go to the diaper sites. I e-mailed the author one of the stories, 
who said his story was true. His name is Jake. He said that he has been kept in 
diapers since he was six years old because he is a bedwetter, and, because of 
being in diapers all the time, he has no choice but to wet himself in bed. 
Consequently, he also poops in his diapers because he always has them on. Jake 
said he's fourteen years old and he likes to wear diapers but he won't tell 
anyone that he does. He also mentioned that his Mom and his sister change him 
and don't let him do this himself, ever. He is sometimes forced to wear wet and 
dirty diapers for an entire day because his sister likes to see how long he can 
stand it. He often goes to school smelling of pee and poop, which he learned to 
accept dealing with day in and day out, though the other kids couldn't tolerate 
his constant odor so well and eventually left him alone.
	He doesn't get to wear anything else over his diapers so everybody in his 
family and everyone who visits his house sees him in his diapers all the time. 
He lives in a small town and his sister has lots of friends that she invites 
over, some just to see Jake in his diapers, so at least half the kids in her 
school, it would seem, have seen this kid in diapers, mostly girls. His sister, 
by the way, is only eleven, and she was treating her big brother like he was a 
baby! He even slept like a baby and was forced to lie in a crib at night. He was 
spoon-fed at dinner in a high chair and was made to sit in a playpen with baby 
toys! I thought this kid was exaggerating, but he claimed it was all true, so I 
e-mailed him to find out more. As excited as I was reading his comments on the 
way he was treated, I had to feel sorry for him. Hopefully he would write back.
	I went to bed later that evening with my freshly- printed stories, As I 
lay there in my lone pair of underpants, I missed the look and the feel of 
having several pairs on like I had been forced to wear. I wanted to feel like I 
was diapered as I read the stories. I got up and put on as many pairs of 
underpants as I could fit. It felt different to be doing this voluntarily. I 
missed being forced to wear my underpants in multiples and having them pinned on 
so I couldn't remove them. I thought of myself as being the kid who I e-mailed, 
pretending that Katie had just diapered me and put me in my crib. I used my 
imagination and envisioned having several wooden slats in front of me as if I 
were lying in a crib, unable to escape the nocturnal prison, a metaphor I picked 
up from Jake's story.
	The story was about twelve pages long after I printed it out. Each 
paragraph I read got me so excited and made me wish that I could have been in 
his place. Why did something that could be so humiliating also be so exciting to 
think about? Did I really want to be dragged down to the lake shore wearing 
diapers in front of the other kids who also played there, just like this kid 
wrote about? His sister was only nine years old and he was twelve when she 
started taking him down to the lake to go swimming. She even changed him right 
there in front of everyone. The other kids, again mostly girls, offered to 
change him and take him around the shore as their "little" brother, even though 
most of the girls were his age or younger.
	I was only to the fifth page of the story where I read about this event in 
the story. At this point I couldn't withstand the building tension any longer 
and I needed to release it. Katie wasn't home that night, so I didn't have to 
worry about being heard banging my bed against the wall. I massaged my frontal 
area, keeping my legs spread apart as I wanted to shit in my underpants at the 
same time, though doing this would have cost me my Internet privileges. Besides, 
I didn't need to go at that time anyway. Still, I had one of the most intense 
jack-off sessions I could ever remember. How I only wish I could have had a good 
load in my underwear to go along with it.
	I knew that soon enough I would be tempted to make a mess in my underwear, 
and I knew I my willpower was weak at best and I would eventually succumb to the 
urge. Even if I did get caught, at least I still had a lot of stories to read, 
and I could always get more stories from Billy as I had been doing all along.
	It was now Saturday morning. I normally would have tuned into my cartoons 
the first thing, but I was more interested in getting on the Internet than 
anything else. I was up at 8:00, eager to get online. I was still wearing my 
underpants in multiples from last night and I didn't want to take them off just 
yet. Katie had stayed at Vicki's house and Dad was at work. Mom was getting 
ready to leave for her job, so I expected to have the house to myself soon and I 
wouldn't have to strip off any of my underpants.
	While I waited for Mom to leave I picked up the story I was reading last 
night from beneath my bed. I re-read the parts that got me going last night and 
felt like massaging myself again right away. I continued to read the rest of the 
story, getting the same intense feelings that I had last night. This time I 
needed to poop, too, and I was ready to unload into my underwear. I just had to 
wait for Mom to leave first.
	I had gone over to my desk to put my new stories in my notebook with the 
rest of the ones I had acquired. While I was busy leafing through the pages Mom 
walked in on me to tell me she was leaving.
	"Homework?" Mom asked, thinking that I was doing my schoolwork. "On a 
Saturday morning? That's a surprise!"
	"Yeah, uh, finals are next week, you know," I said to Mom nervously. "I'm 
just organizing my notes and papers and stuff."
	How little she knew of the actual contents of the notebook, though she did 
know that it was not homework and common sense told her that I would never in a 
million years do homework first thing Saturday morning. She knew that they were 
papers that I had printed from the Internet.
	"I don't want you running that printer for everything you get off the 
Internet unless you want to start buying supplies for it. They're expensive, you 
know."
	"Okay, Mom," I said as I closed the notebook.
	"And don't spend all day on the Internet! You never know when someone may 
need to call."
	Mom was finally gone and the house was mine! She didn't even notice that I 
had several pairs of underpants on, which I left on so that I could at long last 
poop in them. I ran to the window to confirm that Mom was out of the driveway 
and gone for the day. Too often someone would come back to get something he or 
she forgot.
	I felt so naughty being home alone, free to poop my underpants! I thought 
of the movie by the same name and created a scene in my mind in which the 
movie's main character decides to poop in his underpants to take advantage of 
his family's absence. Perhaps he could put on his obnoxious brothers' underpants 
and poop in them and get him in trouble. Two more story ideas then popped into 
my mind at once.
	I ran through the house, shouting things out loud that I could never say 
while the family was home. "Hey everybody! I'm pooping my underpants! Come and 
spank me! Hey Katie! Come put some pins in my underwear so I can't take it off!" 
I was being such a bad boy now and loving every second of it. I lay on the couch 
and took a huge dump into my underwear. I could feel it and smell it as it oozed 
out into my briefs. I was overcome with excitement and couldn't resist playing 
with myself. I did it right on the living room floor, hoping that a salesman or 
someone distributing religious pamphlets wouldn't show up at the door as they 
often did on Saturday mornings.
	Now I had to deal with the aftermath. I soiled my underpants and I had to 
either get them in the wash or dispose of them completely. There was no telling 
when Katie might return home and I knew she would snitch on me again if she 
caught me. I would never get to correspond with Billy or anyone that I wanted to 
write to on the Internet. Already I was taking chances with my privileges, but I 
couldn't help it!
	I got myself cleaned up and got my underpants in the wash. Even if Katie 
came home and saw that the washer or the dryer were running she would get 
suspicious, so I had to act quickly. After I got the dryer going I went to the 
computer and got online. I checked my e-mail and got a reply back from Jake. He 
answered my questions and he wasn't shy about giving me details. Just his reply 
was good enough to be a story. I printed it with the intentions of enjoying 
reading it in bed. I wrote back and told him about dirtying my undies again. I 
also came up with several more questions when I read his reply. I asked him if 
he liked stories because I had a ton of them to share with him.
	I was online for about thirty minutes when a loud ringing sound played on 
the computer's speakers. It startled me as I was not at all expecting it. A box 
that read "you have new mail!" popped up over the web screen I was viewing. I 
switched to the e-mail program and got a reply back from Jake, much sooner than 
I expected. He responded to my questions and he wanted to know more about me. He 
also wanted to read some of my stories. At the end he asked me to go to a chat 
room if I was presently online. I hadn't used chat, so I e-mailed him back. He 
then sent me a message with instructions on how to get to chat rooms and where 
to go to "meet" him. After a couple minutes of figuring out the software I got 
into the chat room that Jake specified. We then started having a live, one-on-
one conversation with each other. We exchanged questions and answers and talked 
about our experiences and our fantasies. One of the most notable things that 
Jake said was that he had little to fantasize about since so much of what is 
fictionalized in the stories I had read has actually happened to him. He 
mentioned getting spanked a lot, being taken out in public in just diapers and 
otherwise humiliated in every way imaginable. I asked him what it was like to go 
to school in diapers. He said that the kids used to tease him a lot but they all 
ignore him now because they think he's so weird. And he stinks all the time, 
too.
	When I asked him if he had any friends. he said, "just the people I e-mail 
and chat with." He continued to tell me about some of the things he had 
experienced, many of which he mentioned in the story of his I read last night 
and this morning. I told him how much I liked his story and he asked me to send 
me my story to him. When I told him that I had several stories he clarified that 
he wanted my true life story. I went back to the e-mail and sent my story off to 
him. A couple minutes later Jake acknowledged having received my story and said 
he'd write to me about it after he read it.
	The time had passed by so quickly. Before I realized it, we had been 
chatting for the last forty-five minutes! I didn't want to get in trouble for 
tying up the phone line. At the same time, I knew that Jake needed someone to 
talk to, and I couldn't let him go. We were in the middle of a good discussion 
and I wasn't ready to terminate the connection just yet. We continued to chat 
for another ten minutes. Suddenly I heard the front door opening. I heard the 
unmistakable giggling of Katie and Vicki. Very quickly I typed "my sistes home 
giotta go," just as I quoted it, typos and all. I then cleared the screen and 
signed off before Katie came into the room.
	I hated to go offline so quickly and right in the middle of such a good 
conversation with Jake. I later wrote an e-mail message to Jake, explaining why 
I signed off so suddenly and with little explanation. Hopefully he would 
understand. I felt like Jake was becoming my second-best friend, next to Billy, 
and I hadn't even met Jake. His existence was represented by nothing more than 
patterns of glowing phosphorus on a screen that formed the letters, words, and 
sentences that he typed to express his thoughts.
	I wanted to get on the computer again that evening, but Katie was hogging 
it now, partly just to spite me since she knew I wanted to get back on again. 
What she was doing on the Internet for so long, I didn't know. Katie had plenty 
of interests of her own, and the Internet, being as vast as it is, catered to 
just about everything one could possibly imagine. With as many web sites as I 
knew of that catered to diaper lovers, there had to be at least as many for 
other things. All I really cared about were the diaper sites.
	I lay awake that night thinking about Jake. He was probably lying in bed, 
in diapers of course. All I could settle for was about a dozen and a half pairs 
of underpants that I put on myself and was free to take off at any time. I 
couldn't pee or poop in them, either, lest I lose my Internet privileges if I 
were caught. I knew I could only enjoy feeling "diapered" while in bed, but Jake 
would remain in only his diapers for the rest of the weekend. He would go to 
school all next week in diapers, just like he had been doing every single day 
since kindergarten and up to the ninth grade in which he was presently enrolled. 
He expected to be wearing diapers at his high school graduation. I lay there 
feeling my thick underpants, thinking that they were diapers that I could not 
take off and would end up waking up wet and poopy in them. How I wished I could 
have been Jake, even as sorry as I was feeling for him.
	I couldn't sleep as I continued to think over some of the other things 
that Jake and I discussed. It was late at night and everyone was in bed. I 
decided to sneak into the computer room like I had done before. I waited for the 
furnace to kick on so nobody would hear me walking into the computer room. 
Having learned from prior experience, I turned the volume all the way down on 
the speakers and I dimmed the monitor so that it produced just enough light to 
read it.
	I signed on and sent off the e-mail message to Jake. I went to the chat 
room and checked it out, hoping to catch Jake there. He wasn't there, but there 
were eight other names listed. They were in the middle of a discussion about 
where they got their diapers. I sat back and watched it awhile without jumping 
in. One kid (assuming he was a kid since it was a teen diaper chart room) 
mentioned that he liked to wear diapers and he was freely allowed to wear them 
by his parents. This is when I jumped in and contributed some of my own 
comments.
	Soon I was chatting with this other kid in private. His name was John, age 
12. He said his parents consented to his diaper wearing and they even encouraged 
it since it kept him at home and out of trouble. He mentioned going to school in 
them and undressing with them on in P.E. class in front of others, grossing out 
the other boys with his diapers, which were often soiled when he took them off. 
He used this time in the locker room as an opportunity to change into a clean 
diaper. He also mentioned having a sister who treated him as a baby for fun. 
Again, this was all consensual for John. Unlike Jake, John seemed to be a lot 
happier and didn't care that others at his school thought he was a complete 
freak. By the time I terminated the chat session it had been a half hour. I had 
forgotten about the time and was not even watching for others who may be up to 
use the bathroom or get a drink of water.
	I was getting to meet a lot of people with similar, yet unique backgrounds 
and experiences and looked forward to picking up more online friends during chat 
sessions and in e-mail exchanges. I looked forward to sharing my diaper stories 
with these people as I knew they would enjoy them, at least I hoped they would.
	I wrote John an e-mail message and shared with him some of my stories. By 
this time it was too late into the night to check out any web sites. I did, 
however, want to share my story, "Messy Michael," with everyone, so I went into 
alt.sex.fetish.diapers and posted it. I was hesitant to post as I wasn't sure 
what kind of response it would produce. I knew that people of all ages from pre-
teens to senior citizens read the group and not all would be interested in my 
story. I did know, however, that there were enough people out there, teens and 
adults alike, who would appreciate my story. I decided that posting to the 
newsgroup was a good way I could meet others with similar interests to mine. 
After I posted the story I signed off, shut the computer down and returned to 
bed. My parents and my sister remained asleep and completely oblivious the whole 
time.
	Over the course of the following week I used all of my half-hour sessions 
on the Internet checking out diaper web sites and corresponding with others. I 
received a lot of positive feedback and encouragement from others to post more 
stories like "Messy Michael." I had plenty more to share from within my own 
repertoire as well as the stock of stories I had acquired from the writing 
talents of Billy.
	I got more e-mail from Jake and from John, each of whom were becoming pen 
pals of sorts, perhaps "keyboard pals." I wanted to chat with them, but I had to 
wait until my allotted time on the weekends would allow for it. They both liked 
the "Messy Michael" story that I posted. John also liked the underwear stories I 
shared with him. John mentioned that he used to do this before he "upgraded" to 
real diapers and had many fond memories of his pre-diaper days. He especially 
enjoyed reading about Katie pinning my underpants to my shirt and forcing me to 
keep them on until I pooped in them.
	Throughout the week and got what I could get out of my half-hour online 
sessions in each weeknight and the one-hour session on Friday night. By then I 
had so many stories that I was starting to get duplicates of the ones I already 
had, so I compiled a list of my stories that I had, knowing that it would 
require periodic updating. I hadn't even read all of them! Between writing my 
own diapers stories and reading others, this was becoming a full-time hobby. Add 
to the fact that I wanted to wear diapers myself, just like the characters-- and 
in some cases, actual people-- it was becoming more of an obsession. I got to 
where diapers were the only thing I could think about. I thought about the 
people with whom I exchanged e-mail and the stories and correspondence we 
exchanged.
	I was even starting to neglect Billy at times, and I came to my senses and 
realized that I wasn't spending as much time with him as I had been before I got 
on the Internet. No matter how much I liked to write to and chat with my diaper 
buddies about our common interests, there was no substitute for a living, 
breathing, flesh-and-blood (and pee and poop) human friend. I decided that he 
and I were due for an overnight stay with each other. This time he would be 
staying at my house, which he had never done. In fact, I had never invited 
anyone over for an overnight stay, so I was looking forward to having a fun 
evening with him.
	Billy wanted to get out of his house anyway as Kevin was causing more 
tensions and problems at home with his increasingly defiant attitude. Billy 
explained to me what had been going on with his brother Kevin. While Kevin 
denied using drugs, there was no question that his stoner friends were having an 
influence on his overall behavior, making him act more rebellious against his 
family. Billy told me that he showed his Mom the story about a boy who was 
headed for a potentially destructive lifestyle until his Mom decided to make her 
son wear diapers. In the story, the boy was alienated by his former druggie 
friends and was therefore removed from their influence, which was part of the 
intent to making the boy wear diapers. The boy could not leave the house since 
he only had diapers to wear. He was spanked for even the slightest act of 
defiance. The negative influences his old friends were having were reversed and 
then some as the boy wanted to wear diapers and start his life over again and 
not get led into the same kind of trouble again. Perhaps there was some hope for 
Kevin and for the sanity of Billy and his family.
	Billy was still discomforted by having my family know that he wears 
diapers and at first refused to come over, but then he changed his mind after he 
got in a fight with Kevin over showing his Mom the story and suggesting that 
Kevin wear diapers and be returned to a baby to stay out of trouble.
	Likewise, my parents didn't feel that Billy's presence of being in diapers 
was a good influence on me. As I thought of the story about the boy who was 
getting into drugs, I told Mom that some friends could have worse influences 
than others. I asked Mom if she would rather I be in diapers or on drugs.
	"Diapers, of course!" Mom stated. "But, this doesn't mean that I want you 
to be wearing diapers just because Billy does. We have already beaten this 
discussion to death, Michael! And you know what will happen if I catch you 
pooping your underpants or sneaking off with Billy's underpants again! Bye, bye 
Internet!"
	"I know Mom, I know," I said ever so innocently.
	"I suppose Billy brought you some diapers!" Mom said cynically. "I won't 
ask, but if he did, I had better not see you wearing them."
	"I don't know if he did, Mom," I said, still projecting such an innocent 
facade. I knew Billy had brought back to me some diaper pants of his for me to 
wear because I asked him to! I'll never learn.
	Billy and I started out the evening together with a movie and a pizza of 
our own for dinner. We even got on the Internet afterwards, which I felt 
defeated the purpose of inviting Billy over tonight since it was the Internet 
that was taking my time away from him. It was Billy's idea anyway, so I signed 
on and got into the chat room and found John online. I chatted with him awhile 
and then let Billy exchange some conversation with him. I watched them type 
dialog back and forth as I was sitting in the chair behind Billy, getting 
excited by reading John's account of his recent experience with getting his 
shorts yanked off in the gym by several girls who tackled him to the floor and 
took his shorts away, forcing him to chase them to the girl's locker room, where 
he was forbidden from entry and forced to stand out in the gym where he could be 
seen in his thick diapers! I expected him to say how embarrassed he was by this, 
but he said he liked the attention.
	"This John kid is weird," Billy said to me. "But he sounds cool. I think 
I'll start e-mailing him."
	There was still about a half hour left in our allotted time when we ended 
the chat and checked out some of the diaper web sites. By the time the hour was 
over we were sent to bed. Katie had to get in a lick or two, so she asked Billy 
if she could change his diapers for him.
	"No, I can handle it myself," he said to her calmly, yet defensively.
	After I closed the door on Katie Billy took off his pants and then took 
off the diaper pants he had been wearing. They were drenched with urine as I 
expected and they smelled of it, too. I was hoping to see poop in his diaper 
pants, too, but I was disappointed to see that he didn't poop in them. He stood 
before me completely naked as he pulled a couple large thick diapers out of his 
duffel bag and laid them on the floor along with a set of safety pins. He 
normally had his Mom or Becky diaper him at home; Kevin refused to do it. In any 
case, none of his family was there, so Billy humbly asked me to pin up his 
diapers for him.
	I felt silly doing it, but Billy needed his diapers or he would pee in the 
sleeping bag. He just sat on the diapers and told me to draw them up each side 
and pull them up as high as they would go and then insert the pins and ensure 
that they were on tightly. I couldn't help but to notice Billy had a hard-on as 
I pulled the diapers up over his stomach. He then stood up and grabbed a pair of 
plastic pants out of his bag and pulled them up over his diapers. He was then 
bent over again with legs straight, sticking his white, thickly padded butt in 
my face. I wanted to look just like him and have a big diaper on my butt, too.
	I was still completely dressed since I didn't want Katie or my Mom to 
barge in and see me wearing Billy's diaper pants, which is what I expected him 
to bring over to me. Instead, he pulled out of his bag more diapers just like 
the ones he was wearing along with a set of safety pins and a pair of plastic 
pants. I was surprised somewhat, surprised in a pleasant way.
	"So you're gonna have me wear those?" I asked.
	"I thought you might want to try them, get a chance to wear some real 
diapers that have to be *pinned* on, by someone else. These will really make you 
wish you could wear them all the time!"
	"I wanna try 'em!" I said excitedly.
	"You have to let me put them on you," Billy added.
	"That's fine," I agreed, though I was a tad hesitant to have Billy put 
diapers on me.
	"These are even better than the underpants," Billy commented as he laid 
them out on the floor. "You'll like 'em." He told me to get undressed and sit on 
the diapers so he could pin them up on me. I felt awkward having Billy diapering 
me, being that he was an "equal," a boy my age, my best friend. I tried to think 
of someone with authority over me such as my Mom or Katie diapering me-- I had 
to admit Katie had authority over me, too. I liked having someone else put a 
diaper on me and hadn't experienced this since I was seven. It made me feel like 
someone else was in control and in charge of me. All I had to do was sit there 
and let Billy do all the work. A fantasy of feeling like a totally helpless 
three-year-old started to develop out of this experience. I acted like I had no 
choice and no say in the matter, much in the same way a baby just accepted the 
fact that he was going to be wearing diapers whether he liked it or not, and of 
course I liked it very much.
	I concentrated on the feeling of having the diapers go up around me, going 
up over my stomach in the front and wrapping all around me in my crotch and over 
my butt. I had just as much of an erection as Billy did when I diapered him; its 
presence soon obscured completely and buried in several thick cotton layers. He 
pulled the ends together and pinned them in place. I liked hearing the final 
click of each pin, knowing that they would stay that way until the next change. 
In my fantasy of being a helpless boy, the time for that next change was unknown 
but was certain to be a long time, no matter how much I peed or pooped.
	Billy then handed me a pair of his plastic pants, identical to the ones he 
had on. They were so indiscreet being so big and so crinkly. They were heavier 
and more durable than the pairs Mom just bought for me to wear over my 
underpants. As I pulled them up I felt the pins rub against my fingers. The pins 
added a unique element that I enjoyed too much to describe. Just as they had 
served to prevent me from removing my underpants when Katie stuck them in my 
waistbands and my shirt, I thought of them as padlocks, ensuring that the 
diapers would not come off until the person who put them on decided they could 
come off. I wished that Billy could have just put my plastic pants on me, too, 
since I was so engrossed in my fantasy.
	"What do you think?" Billy asked me, seeing that I was obviously enjoying 
being diapered.
	"I love 'em! I really feel like a helpless little boy now!" I exclaimed as 
I jumped into bed so excitedly.
	"Just pee and poop in them and *then* you'll feel like a helpless little 
boy, especially when you have to keep wearing them when you need a change! 
Remember, those are *real* diapers and once they're on, they stay on for a long 
time! That's how it is when you wear them every night."
	Billy was provided with a sleeping bag to sleep in. In just his diapers 
and plastic pants he crawled into the bag and zipped it up. I crawled into my 
bed dressed the same way as Billy. We stayed awake for at least two hours and 
only talked about wearing diapers. We discussed the stories we read and had 
written ourselves, commenting on the various stories we shared back and forth. 
We got into a discussion over which kids at school looked like possible diaper 
wearers.
	After we finally settled down for the night I continued to lie awake. I 
felt so good in the diapers I was wearing. They were even softer, thicker, and 
fluffier than anything I had ever worn before. They had a wider crotch, and the 
pins, they were quickly becoming a very significant part of my ultimate diaper 
fantasy. Having diapers pinned on by someone else were not as easy to unpin and 
re-pin, making me feel even more helpless. Diaper pants were more like thick 
underwear that could easily be pulled on and taken off. On top of it all, the 
plastic pants felt slicker and smoother than the cheap pairs I had to wear over 
my underwear throughout Christmas break.
	As if I weren't already stimulated enough by being in diapers, I had to 
poop, too. I used the word "poop" in my thoughts as most little boys used this 
word instead of the word "shit". In any case, a bowel movement was on its way 
and once it was out, it would remain in my diapers for the rest of the night. I 
was still in my "helpless little boy" mode and all I could think about after I 
filled the back of my diapers was that my diapers would stay pinned on, they 
were not coming off and until they did, I would have to sleep with a pile of 
poop in my diapers.
	I wanted to play with myself so bad as I had a raging boner that was 
seemed like it was trying to pierce through my thick diapers. The added feel of 
having safety pins in the sides reminded me of having them in my underwear so I 
couldn't take them off. I tried to be discreet about it, but after I had shot my 
load into the front of the diapers, I heard Billy stirring around. Either I had 
awakened him by my vigorous shaking of the bed, or he had lay awake the whole 
time. A few silent minutes passed and then I heard Billy say, "I told you you'd 
like those diapers!"
	I didn't say anything back, but I think my silence was acknowledgment 
enough that I agreed with him. As I went to sleep that night in a loaded diaper, 
I was planning what I would do the next day; I was going to go buy some diapers 
of my own. I had enough money saved up to afford a couple diapers and some 
plastic pants. I knew for sure I would never get any sleep now as this all I 
could think about was buying those diapers!

MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: PART 13
---------------------------------

	"I slept in a poopy diaper all night long!"
	That was the first thought that came to me as I woke up the next morning. 
I sat up and felt the cold, clumped mass inside of the diapers press up against 
me. I instantly got a hard-on over the sensation and the thought of having 
stayed in such thick, shit-filled diapers for so long. I needed to pee 
desperately, and since I was in diapers and I couldn't leave my room and get 
caught wearing them, I peed in them and continued peeing, the flow shooting 
upward from my erect penis and splashing back down and pouring into the layers 
at my crotch, splashing against my balls. I looked down at my bulging crotch and 
checked to see how well the diapers would hold up against my seemingly unabated 
flow of urine. I saw the yellow liquid soaking through the diapers, its flow 
stopped by the heavy plastic pants. By the time I was done my diapers were 
soaking wet. Some of the pee mixed with the poop and loosened it up, causing it 
to spread throughout the diapers more and creating quite a nasty odor.
	I once again had to deal with the problem of cleaning myself up. Katie was 
already awake as I could hear her out in the living room and mom was going to be 
home all day today. Getting to the bathroom without getting caught would not be 
easy. I would also need to do the cleanup quickly since Katie and mom would get 
suspicious if I spent a long time in there, and I couldn't leave behind any 
evidence, smells mainly. Lastly I had to sneak the dirty diapers back to my room 
and avoid being seen with them.
	I was stuck in my room without much of any way to clean up my messy butt. 
All I could do was use some old, poop- stained briefs to wipe myself. I went to 
my underwear drawer and selected a few of the most badly stained pairs that I 
had and decided their final fate today. They had shrunk and had become tattered 
from wear, so it was time to discard them anyway, but not without giving them 
one final mission in life.
	I reached over to my side and unpinned the diapers. The diapers fell to 
the floor, lying there completely smeared with shit. The front was saturated in 
yellow. I got excited just looking at how I could make a diaper look on the 
inside, seeing how well I used it and how well it could take my pee and poop.
	I took one of the pairs of briefs that I was about to retire and folded it 
so that I could wipe the excess poop off my butt and onto the garment. I tried 
to be careful not to get anything on the floor, though some of it did splotch 
onto the carpet. The smell was bad enough to cause asphyxiation! I prayed that 
nobody would come to my bedroom door while I was cleaning my rear end off.
	I used the first pair until it was completely full, containing mostly the 
excess matter. I set it on top of the diapers and retrieved a second pair to 
wipe the rest of it up. I stood at the mirror to see that I had gotten 
everything off of me. In the background I could see Billy stirring around and 
waking up. He looked down at the soiled diapers on the floor.
	"Boy, did you ever shit those diapers!" he commented in his groggy, half-
awakened voice.
	"I'm trying to get cleaned up so nobody knows I was wearing them," I said 
to Billy as I walked over to my window and opened them to drop the dirty undies 
on the ground outside where I would retrieve them later and ditch them in the 
neighbor's trash, anyplace where my family wouldn't see them. I also needed to 
air out the room and get rid of as much of the smell as I could.
	Billy climbed out of his sleeping bag and sat with his legs open. I could 
see the wide crotch of his diaper completely soaked all the way down it towards 
his butt. I wanted to know of he had pooped, but his diapers were too thick to 
tell. I watched him take them off and was disappointed to see that he hadn't 
dropped a good load in them. He had mentioned to me that he liked to poop in 
them at home as it was difficult to clean up if he were anyplace else, 
especially school.
	Billy and I then got ourselves dressed
	at the same time. While I was putting on my underwear-- one thin pair of 
white briefs--I saw him putting on a pair of those thick white diaper pants that 
he wore in the daytime. I wanted to have some to wear around all day long, but I 
had a feeling that mom would "inspect" me and make me show her what I had on 
underneath.
	While Billy continued to get himself dressed I went into the bathroom to 
wash my hands. Since I had access to water I dropped my pants and gave my rear 
end a once-over wipe job just to make sure I was as clean as possible.
	It turned out that mom did, in fact, inspect me and make me undo my pants 
in front of her to show her that I was not wearing any of Billy's diapers or his 
diaper pants. With my pants down at my ankles mom made me turn around. I feared 
that she would make me bend over and pull my briefs down. Even as much as I did 
to ensure that no poop was left unwiped, the smell still lingered.
	After mom left to do her Saturday errands Katie came up to me and 
confronted me.
	"Hold it!" she said.
	"What? You saw it, Katie! I don't have anything on underneath but 
underwear, one pair!"
	"Mom didn't finish checking you! Drop your pants!"
	"No!" I defended.
	"Okay, fine. I don't need to check anyway. I know you wore them to bed 
last night, Michael!"
	"I did not!" I lied.
	"Oh, come on, Michael! I know that if Billy comes over to spend the night, 
then he has to bring along diapers to wear to bed. I know damn well that he 
brought you some, too!"
	"You can't prove anything, Katie!"
	"No, but I do know how you think, Michael."
	"Come on, Billy, let's go." I said.
	"Where are we going?" he asked.
	"I tell you when we get outside," I whispered.
	"I'm going to buy some diapers today," I said after I closed the door and 
walked out into the front yard.
	"Really? Are you serious?" Billy said.
	"I thought about it all last night and decided that if I had my own 
diapers to wear then I wouldn't have to worry about borrowing them from you."
	"Would you use them, or just wear them?"
	"I'll have to just wear them and then use them when I have the chance. I'd 
hate to get caught again. I don't need another spanking."
	"If your parents catch you with them, you can say you bought them with 
your money and they're yours!" Billy added.
	I knew this was easier said than done, though, if such a situation ever 
came up. I could rehearse my defense easily enough, in the same fantasy world in 
which most of my diaper stories occurred. If only in reality I could just tell 
everyone that I was a diaper freak and to let me wear diapers. No amount of 
punishment would ever make me change.
	I walked over to the front of the house to retrieve the soiled underpants 
that I had dropped from my window. As I carried them I had to either hold them 
by the waistband and let them dangle so openly, or wad them up and hold the 
slimy mess in my hands, which would at least make carrying them more discreet. 
Under the circumstances I carried them in my hand and felt the cold, brown ooze 
glop onto me; I usually didn't wear gloves.
	I carried the underpants for about two blocks and then dropped them off in 
some poor unsuspecting neighbor's garbage can that was sitting out towards the 
sidewalk. Very suspiciously I looked around and looked in the window of the 
house to see if anyone was watching. In one fluid motion I lifted the lid, 
dropped the poopy undies in there, slammed the lid down and walked away 
casually, as if I had done nothing. I reached down to grab some snow so that I 
could use it to wash the poopy mess off of my hands.
	Just then a story idea came to mind. Suppose there was a boy who lived at 
this house and his parents saw the soiled briefs in the garbage. They would then 
suspect him of crapping in his underwear, particularly if this boy wore the same 
brand and size of underwear as the ones I wore. Of course the innocent boy would 
deny it, but his parents would not believe him and he would get spanked and then 
diapered for something he did not even do. Billy and I talked about this idea on 
our way to his house where he would drop off his duffel bag full of used 
diapers, both mine and his.
	We decided to take a few minutes to warm ourselves up before venturing out 
into the cold again. It would be a fairly long walk to the store to get the 
diapers. Billy and I had the house to ourselves as the rest of his family was 
gone. While we sat down in the living room I looked at the end table by the 
chair I was sitting in. On it was a copy of the story about the boy who got put 
into diapers to keep him at home and out of trouble.
	"Did you know your story is sitting out?" I pointed out to Billy.
	"Yeah, that's the one Kevin and I got into a fight about," Billy said. "I 
wonder why it's just sitting here."
	Billy picked up the story and returned it to his bedroom. While we were in 
there, Billy saw that Kevin's underwear drawer was sitting open-- and empty! 
Likewise, Kevin's closet door was opened. For a moment Billy thought that 
someone had tried robbing the place, but he then he had a much more likely 
explanation for why Kevin's underwear drawer had been emptied:
	"I think Kevin's going to be put into diapers so he'll stay home and stay 
out of trouble, just like the kid in this story."
	"You think so?" I asked Billy, surprised that his parents would resort to 
such a measure to discipline Kevin. On the other hand, with as much trouble as 
Kevin had been getting into lately, according to Billy, perhaps this was the 
only thing his mom and dad could do to save Kevin from taking the wrong path in 
life. It worked for the kid in the story, so it might work for Kevin. It gave 
Billy and I something else to talk about on our way to the bank, which, 
fortunately, was open on Saturdays. Billy knew the prices of the products in the 
store quite well and estimated that I should take out eighty dollars for the 
things I wanted to buy. I was surprised that it would take this much money.
	"When you look at how much material goes into them you can see why they 
cost a lot," Billy told me, being careful not to say the word "diapers" while 
standing in a long line at the teller window. After withdrawing eighty dollars 
from my savings account-- a hefty chunk of change for a twelve- year-old-- I was 
ready to go to the store and get the diapers I wanted!
	The store was a still a long walk away, but at least it gave me time to 
prepare for making the purchase. Up until we had left the bank I was quite calm 
and relaxed, yet excited and exhilarated in anticipation of wearing my very own 
diapers to bed tonight. I was beginning to feel nervous, hoping that the 
embarrassment of making the purchase would not overtake my desire to have some 
diapers tat I could call my own. My heart pounded ever so furiously as we got 
closer and closer to the building. We had come this far already, so there was no 
turning back. I tried to set my mind at ease by thinking we were just going into 
any other store, but I knew exactly what I wanted and realized that I would need 
to overcome the embarrassment to reach my goal.
	Billy, of course, knew exactly where the incontinence products were 
located and led me straight to the section in which they stocked diapers and 
bedwetter pants. Most of the offerings in the diapers and diaper pants were 
white. Though other colors were also available, I still chose white as this was 
what I preferred in much the same way I preferred white underwear over colored 
underwear.
	Billy knew I would want to get my money's worth, so he picked out for me 
the thickest diapers they had available, and they were quite thick! The package 
was even labeled "extra heavy duty, for severe bladder and bowel incontinence". 
Billy also told me to get some plastic pants for those rare opportunities of 
being home alone when I could actually use my diapers.
	"You'll want to wear them, anyway," Billy said as he grabbed the package 
with a pair of heavy-duty plastic pants. They looked so big, even for being 
still folded in the package. I couldn't wait to see how big they would be when I 
opened the package and unfolded the plastic pants! I was getting stiff in my 
pants looking at everything I was buying and was about to be wearing! My arms 
were full as I carried a pair of plastic pants and as many diapers as I could 
afford along with a set of large, long safety pins to keep them on.
	Now I was faced with the hard part, paying for them. It wasn't the fact 
that I was parting with a good portion of eighty dollars that was difficult. It 
was dealing with the embarrassment of approaching the clerk and presenting to 
her my purchases. How often did twelve-year-old boys come into a medical supply 
store with eighty dollars to buy diapers?
	There were no other shoppers in the store, luckily, as I was feeling very 
self-conscious about others seeing me buy diapers, let alone the clerk. However, 
the clerk at the counter has her full attention focused on us, two boys looking 
over the merchandise in the diaper section of the store. She seemed nonchalant 
about our presence and, aside from an occasional glance, she was busy tending to 
her other duties.
	I was hesitant to step up to the lady and present to her my purchase. I 
thought of the questions she might ask me:
	"Why are you buying these diapers?"
	"Do you really need these diapers?"
	"Do your mom and dad know you are buying these diapers?"
	"Are you using your own money to buy these diapers?"
	"Just go up there," Billy coached me. "Just pretend you're buying candy or 
something. You won't ever get them if you don't pay for them."
	"Well, here goes," I said, feeling as nervous as ever. "Didn't come all 
this way for nothing," I thought.
	I forced myself to walk to the counter, trembling with each step. I 
thought my knees would collapse! Billy prodded me along and walked ahead of me. 
The lady at the counter seemed to recognize Billy by the way she looked at him. 
In fact, she even commented that Billy's mom had been in the store earlier 
today.
	I was at the point of no return now. Actually, I could have aborted my 
mission and left the store, but then I would never want to enter the store again 
since the clerk would remember me as someone who chickened out on at the last 
second on buying diapers! I was committed to my objective and I thought of how 
richly I would be rewarded for doing this for myself.
	I set the packages on the counter and reached into my pocket for the big 
cash outlay, at least it was to a typical twelve-year-old. I don't think I had 
ever before carried four twenty-dollar bills that I could call my own. I was to 
part with most of it very quickly.
	"How are you boys today?" the lady kindly asked us as she picked up one of 
the bulky packages and punched the keys on the register.
	She finished punching in the last item and announced my total. I was 
definitely committed to the purchase now and couldn't back out of it, so I 
handed her the money. I was even more embarrassed by the way my hand was shaking 
than the fact that I was buying diapers in the first place.
	"I'm probably the only one who's done this," I said to her just to let out 
some nervous energy. My voice cracked.
	"Oh, no," the lady said. "You'd be surprised how many young lads come in 
here and buy these," she said. In a way, I was surprised to hear this, but in 
another way, I was not. Perhaps Billy and I were not the only kids in this town 
who liked to wear diapers, whether by choice or by necessity.
	As for the clerk, I had a feeling that she had seen quite a few nervous 
kids like me buying their own diapers for the first time after she told me that 
she had seen other kids come in. It didn't seem to strike her as an unusual 
occurrence to see kids shopping in the store without their parents. She doled 
out my change and sincerely wished us a good afternoon as she handed me a large, 
brown paper bag that contained my purchases. I thought of what the lady might 
have been thinking when we left: "And they *always* buy the *thickest* ones!"
	Billy and I were out of the store now with the diapers I wanted. Billy 
gave me the high five and said, "you did, man! You did it! You got your own 
diapers!"
	"I know! I feel so much better to have them! I'm glad that's over with, 
having to buy them!"
	"Are you putting them on tonight?" Billy asked me.
	"Hell yes! I can't wait!"
	I only had one other problem to deal with. I had to smuggle my diapers 
into the house without anyone seeing that I had bought them. I asked Billy if he 
could come back with me and sneak the bag of diapers to my bedroom window after 
I entered my house. Billy agreed to do it for me, but he needed to check in at 
his house and let his mom know what he was doing.
	After spending the leftover money on lunch we went back to Billy's house. 
Billy set the diaper bag in the garage where he could retrieve it on his way 
back to my house. He didn't want his mom to see that he was helping me buy 
diapers, and I really didn't want her to know, either, though she knew I liked 
to wear Billy's diapers.
	As I came in the front door with Billy I saw Kevin run out of the living 
room and downstairs to the bedroom. I could see his long, slender bare legs 
striding swiftly as he dashed towards the stairs. I also got a good enough 
glimpse of him to see that he was wearing diapers! I could see his padded butt 
bouncing down the stairs as he disappeared from sight, obviously embarrassed to 
be seen in diapers.
	I followed Billy down the stairs to the bedroom. Kevin was sitting in the 
corner in a heavy, white diaper and a short, striped shirt that looked like it 
belonged to a toddler boy. The underwear drawers-- now diaper drawers-- were 
closed. Gone from the closet were Kevin's pants and any shirts of his that 
looked like they belonged to an older boy. They had been replaced with several 
short striped shirts similar to the one he had on right now.
	Kevin wouldn't talk to either one of us, at least not for a few minutes. 
His head was hung low, as if he had just been punished. He finally looked up at 
us. His eyes were swollen and his face was red, as if perhaps he had been 
spanked.
	"Thanks a lot, Billy," Kevin mumbled. "You and your f**king diaper 
stories!"
	"What?"
	"Look at what you got me into! I have to stay home in diapers now, because 
one of your stories suggested it!"
	"You've been getting in a lot of trouble, Kevin, and I think this will do 
you some good."
	"Shit, my friends will laugh at me and leave me if I go to school like 
this!"
	"I think that's the idea, Kevin. I hate those stoner freaks you've started 
hanging around with. Peter was a good friend."
	"I don't care, Billy, just get the hell out of here and leave me alone!"
	Billy and I left his house after Billy got the bag of diapers out of the 
garage. When we got to my house I went inside and went straight to my bedroom, 
though I was temporarily detained by Katie when she asked me, "what did you and 
Billy do all day?"
	"Nothing," I said to brush her off. She followed me to my room.
	"You guys had to have done something," she persisted.
	"Look, Katie, I don't ask what you and Vicki do together, so I don't think 
it's any of your business."
	"You went over to Billy's and wore diapers with him, huh?"
	"No, I did not!"
	I didn't want Katie to follow me into my bedroom and see Billy's face in 
the window. I ended up having to go into the bathroom just to get rid of Katie.
	"Oh, so you *do* use the toilet still!" she remarked before I closed the 
door. I had to make it look like I had a valid reason to be in the bathroom, 
even though I didn't have to pee or poop. I waited about a minute and then 
flushed the toilet. I left the bathroom and went straight to my room where Billy 
was waiting patiently for me to open the window. I slowly opened it so nobody 
would hear it sliding. Billy handed me the bag of diapers and then took off for 
his house.
	"See you tomorrow maybe, if not on Monday!" he said as he left.
	Now I was alone and free to enjoy my diapers for a little while, at least 
until dinner was ready.

MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: PART 14
---------------------------------

	I was overflowing with excitement to try out my new diapers! Billy had 
done his job and successfully helped me to get the diapers into my room by 
passing them through my window. He was a hero for a day! All I needed to do was 
close the window before getting my diapers on. I anticipated getting my pants 
off and diapering myself as I slowly pulled the window shut again.
	Suddenly my excitement vanished when I made a startling discovery. I 
looked down at the ground and saw that Billy and I had created some very 
incriminating evidence. We left tracks in the otherwise smooth blanket of snow 
that originated by the front door and stopped at my window! There was a set of 
tracks left from when I retrieved my soiled underpants from outside my window. 
Billy left a new, distinct set of tracks of his own when he delivered my diapers 
to the window. Fortunately it was starting to get dark and by the time dad got 
home he wouldn't see the tracks. On the other hand, it didn't look like it would 
snow this evening and the tracks would still be there, visible in the daylight 
tomorrow morning.
	I had to do something to obscure the tracks or think of a plausible 
explanation for why they led to my window. I thought about going out there and 
making several more tracks and then say that Billy and I were playing in the 
snow, but mom and Katie had been home most of the day and knew that Billy and I 
were gone the whole time.
	I decided to go outside and play in the snow by myself, just so that it 
looked like I was trying to pass the time. This way I could make enough tracks 
to obscure the lone tracks that Billy and I created earlier. I spent about 
twenty minutes making snow angels, throwing snowballs across the street and just 
making tracks in the snow. I even made a small snowman. I just had to look like 
I was playing in the snow when, in fact, I was just covering my ass. As soon as 
the yard looked good and "played in" I went back in the house and to my room to 
cover my ass again, this time, in a more literal since, with the diapers, of 
course!
	I went straight back into my room and retrieved the diapers from 
underneath my bottom dresser drawer where I stashed them before going outside. I 
hurriedly grabbed the bag and pulled out of it one of my newly acquired 
treasures. I had my pants and my underwear off, my penis sticking straight out 
as erect as it could be without being handled.
	I couldn't wait another second to put the diaper on! I laid one of the 
diapers down on the floor and then sat on it. I felt the thick, soft, fluffy 
layers beneath my butt, anticipating having the same, comfortable feeling 
wrapped all around me by the time I had it pinned on. I pulled it up into my 
crotch as high as it would go and pinned each side. It felt tight and secure, 
which I felt was pretty good considering this was the first time I had diapered 
myself in this particular fashion. I still wished that someone else could have 
pinned them on for me and left me completely helpless.
	I put the plastic pants on and pulled them up as high as they would go. 
They went even higher than the diaper, which had my entire stomach covered. The 
elastic bands allowed it to fit securely, but there was a lot more capacity in 
them for more diapering. I decided to try wearing a double diaper when I went to 
bed later this evening.
	I knew I was taking a chance by being caught in the diaper, but I couldn't 
help but to enjoy wearing it for a couple hours before dinner. I sat on my bed 
and drafted out the diaper story that I thought of earlier today. All the while 
I kept thinking about how warm and wonderfully thick and soft my diaper felt 
tightly hugging my rear end. I kept it on until I heard dad come home. By that 
time mom had dinner ready. I took the diaper off and stashed it underneath my 
bottom drawer. I got my underwear and my jeans back on as mom came to my door to 
call me out. How little she knew of what I had been doing.
	I spent the rest of the evening playing on the computer and reading diaper 
stories from the Internet, printing a couple more of them out to read in bed 
tonight while wearing my new diapers.
	I then typed the story that I had written by hand in my bedroom earlier 
this evening. Since it was a short story, I got it done fairly quickly. It 
didn't even fill two complete pages. All I could come up with for a title was 
"Framed and Blamed." I also wrote about today's experience and added it to my 
newly created "Diaper Diary". I sent copies of the story and today's inaugural 
"Diaper Diary" entry to my e- mail friends Jake and John just as I got online 
this evening.
	As it was Saturday night I had plenty of time to respond to my e-mail and 
chat with Jake. I told him more about my day and he was very delighted when I 
told him that I went out and bought my own diapers with my own money. I also saw 
John in the chat room and told him about today's experiences, which he too, 
enjoyed very much.
	Bedtime came shortly, and, to mom's surprise, I was unusually cooperative 
in going to bed when I was told. As I promised myself, I would go to bed double-
diapered. Just one of the diapers was thick enough, but having two of them on 
really aroused me. The plastic pants were still loose enough that they looked 
like they could fit a third diaper in with the others, so I took the plastic 
pants down and added a third diaper and re-pinned them on. Now I was really 
padded up! This was the perfect time to read a diaper story, I decided.
	I had so many stories to choose from that it would take me several nights 
to read them. I could read three stories a night for the next month and not read 
the same story twice. After I printed up all my stories and all the ones Billy 
had written, including a couple new ones over Christmas break, I would have 
enough stories to last a lifetime, at least at the rate I was collecting them 
and writing my own.
	I sat in bed with my legs spread open, feeling the wide crotch of the 
diaper and the plastic pants spanning and stretching across my genitals, ready 
to take its first peeing and pooping, only that I had to refrain from using the 
diapers until I had a safe opportunity to do so. It seemed like such a waste, 
pardon the pun, not to use them. They had to be broken in sooner or later. I did 
masturbate in them, however, the evidence of which was relatively less 
conspicuous than if I had peed or pooped in them.
	 Sunday night, my urges to put the diapers to use were too great to 
ignore. Even though I told myself I wouldn't use them, lest I get caught, I was 
too consumed in the feel of wearing the diapers. I then abandoned all self-
restraint from making a mess. I had to pee and poop now, and I had this 
wonderful brand new diaper padding me up so nicely. I was very much tempted to 
go ahead and put the diaper to use! Instantly I let it out from both ends of me, 
flooding the front and back of it! I savored the naughty feeling that had 
suddenly overcome me.
	After the excitement of loading poop into the diapers had subsided, I had 
to again deal with the problem of getting myself cleaned up. I had no choice but 
to get up and deal with the mess right there and then. I couldn't wait until 
morning and deal with it then since everyone would be using the bathroom to get 
ready for school or work.
	I still had a couple more pairs of underwear that I could afford to use up 
on wiping up the excess poop on my bum. I certainly couldn't run the shower as 
it was too loud and others would hear the water running, even over the noise of 
the furnace. Since everyone was asleep, however, I could still go into the 
bathroom and use water from the sink instead. I decided to fill the sink with 
water and then dip the underpants in the water to rinse them out as I continued 
cleaning myself. When the water got too dirty I could drain it and refill the 
sink. It would take awhile, but hopefully I could avoid getting caught and 
getting punishment this way. Anything to avoid a spanking was worth it. I found 
three of the mostly badly stained pairs that remained in my underwear drawer and 
took them into the bathroom with me.
	I turned the furnace up enough to keep it running longer to obscure the 
inevitable splashing sounds I would be making in the bathroom. I was then safely 
in the bathroom, ready to clean myself up. I took off the diaper and noted how 
the once virgin-white fabric inside of it was tarnished now, broken in and ready 
for more soilings later on. The front panel, stained yellow, had also been 
initiated. I shook the excess poop into the toilet and tried to wipe as much of 
it out of the diaper as I could. I managed to get most of it, though there was 
still a wide, dark brown swath that would always be embedded into the fabric.
	I spent the next ten minutes quietly wiping up my stool onto my old 
undies, shaking as much of the mess into the toilet as I could. Then the furnace 
kicked off and I had to sit out the silent period. I even turned off the light 
to avoid being detected, though this could not stop anyone from getting up to 
use the bathroom if they needed to, which is what I found out when I heard the 
doorknob jiggle.
	"Dammit!" I thought as my I felt heart drop into my stomach. "Why do I 
always time these things so poorly?"
	I was cornered again! I was in trouble no matter who it was on the other 
side of the door. It turned out to be Katie. She had to have known it was me in 
the bathroom, because she said, "Michael, let me in there right now, or I'll go 
wake mom and dad!"
	I was shocked to realize I had brought nothing clean with me to wear back 
to my bedroom! I used all three pairs of briefs for wiping up my mess, and the 
only other thing to wear was the dirty diaper and plastic pants! I either had to 
put them on again or appear before Katie naked. I decided not to opt for the au 
naturel look, so I quickly pinned the diaper back on. It was not only wet but 
now cold as it went up over my waist. Katie was getting impatient.
	"Five seconds, or I get mom and dad up!" she warned.
	I opened the bathroom door and shamefully appeared before Katie with the 
huge, bulky diaper on, now only loosely pinned on and sagging down from my 
loins.
	"Just what I thought!" she said. "Man it stinks in here! I see you got 
some more of Billy's diapers!"
	"Uh...Katie," I hesitated.
	"What? You know I'm telling mom about this!"
	"These are, uh, my diapers," I stammered nervously.
	"Oh they are, huh?"
	"I bought 'em" I confessed. "I got them today."
	"Then I'll tell mom and dad about that, too!"
	Just at that moment mom had gotten up and wanted to know what was going 
on, why Katie and I were both in the bathroom at 2:00 in the morning. Mom then 
looked at me and saw me wearing my diaper. The smell I created was still 
lingering heavily in the air. The sink was still full of diluted poop.
	"I caught him *again*, mom!" Katie said so proudly.
	"Michael!" mom sternly scolded. "I knew it wouldn't last long, I just knew 
it wouldn't! It hasn't even been a day! I can see you're using Billy's diapers 
again!"
	"These are mine, mom!" I defended. "I bought them myself!"
	"You want them bad enough to buy your own, is that what you're telling us, 
Michael?"
	"Well...I..."
	"It's two in the morning! Why are you up so late?"
	"I needed to clean up," I mumbled innocently.
	"I just needed to use the bathroom like a normal person would!" Katie 
added. "In fact, I still do!"
	Mom then took me into my bedroom so Katie could do her thing. Mom sat me 
down on my bed. I was still in the dirty diaper. She asked me again, "why do you 
do this, Michael? Why?"
	"I dunno mom. I can't help it."
	"I wish I understood," mom sighed in exasperation. "I've dealt with this 
off and on, but lately, ever since you met Billy, you seem to want to wear 
diapers just like he does. Now here you are, having to clean yourself up in the 
middle of the night! Wouldn't it be easier to just sit on the toilet and get it 
over and done with, Michael? Or would you still just rather wear those diapers 
and make a mess in them?"
	I was hesitant to answer, even as much as I wanted to say "yes."
	"We'll talk about this in the morning, Michael. Now go to bed."
	"I'm still...uh...dirty" I said.
	"Too bad, Michael. You can spend the rest of the night sleeping in your 
messy diaper!"
	Mom re-pinned and tightened my diaper for me before she escorted me to my 
bed. She turned out the light and closed the door. She then came back in and 
warned me not to turn the heat up so high or I'd have to pay the heating bill 
out of my savings account.
	I had a rather rude awakening the next morning. It was about 6:30 when my 
door had swung open and slammed against the wall behind it. The light clicked 
on. An angry voice barked from dad.
	"Son! Get up! Now!"
	I groggily rolled around in bed, not really knowing what was going on just 
yet. Dad wasn't going to wait for me, so he walked over to my bed and grabbed my 
wrist.
	"I said get your butt out of bed!" he hollered.
	"What?" I said, now suddenly awake and scared. I climbed out of bed. It 
didn't take dad long to see the wide, thick crotch and the rest of the diaper on 
me as I extended one leg out and set my foot on the floor.
	"Good God, Michael, what are you wearing?!"
	I was too scared to answer.
	"Why are you wearing that?!"
	Again I was silent as I stood before dad, who was still in his baggy boxer 
shorts, not having yet showered.
	Dad held up the soiled underpants that I left in the bathroom last night. 
Apparently he found them stashed beneath the sink before he got into the shower. 
He virtually rubbed the soiled garment in my face as he demanded to know what I 
was doing?
	"I needed to clean up," I said.
	"This isn't what I expect of my son!" he yelled. "You left a disgusting 
mess in the sink and all over the bathroom! Now bend over!"
	Not again! I cringed in fear as I expected dad to pull down on the diaper 
and start spanking me. Instead he left the room for a second, only to return a 
few seconds later with his belt. No! Not the dreaded belt spanking!
	Dad was hollering and howling as he unfastened the pins and let them drop 
to the floor along with the soiled diaper. He discovered the big mess that was 
still in them from last night.
	"For chrissakes!" he said. "You're a mess, Michael! This is so filthy!"
	Dad then slapped me on the butt out of frustration, though the pain hardly 
compared to what I was about to get with the belt. He slapped the belt across my 
bare buttocks several times, maintaining a painfully steady pace. After about 
thirty excruciating lashes, dad stopped as mom had entered the room.
	"This is your son!" dad shouted at mom, delivering another three lashes.
	"WHAT THE HELL HAS GOTTEN INTO HIM! HE'S WEARING A F**KING DIAPER!"
	Dad stopped, thankfully, and threw the belt at me, hitting me in the back 
with its buckle. I sat on my knees hunched over on the bed crying hard, 
terrified over dad's unabated wrath.
	"Katie caught him last night, and she was yelling at him in the bathroom, 
then I got up and found out what was going on, and sure enough, there he was, 
standing there wearing a diaper that he could poop in!"
	"Gee, aren't we just proud of him!" dad shouted sarcastically. "I've got a 
boy who likes to shit in diapers! AT LEAST CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF, DAMMIT!"
	Dad returned to his rage and whacked the belt across my backside again 
another ten times. Dad was exasperated now. He stomped out of my room and went 
into the bathroom to take his shower. He slammed the door hard enough to break 
the doorknob! He must have been still holding it and pulling the door shut when 
he yanked the knob out of its hole.
	Meanwhile, I was still sobbing, my butt badly swollen and wounded from the 
belt strikes. Once I regained enough composure to talk, I said, "can 
we...sniff...talk about this, mom?"
	"We'll talk about it later! Get yourself cleaned up now!"
	I didn't have long to clean myself up once I got into the bathroom. Katie 
kept nagging me to hurry up. I was trying to hurry as fast as I could, but the 
sticky mess was caked onto my skin. Since the bathroom didn't have a working 
doorknob, Katie busted right in and pulled me out of the bathtub while I was in 
the middle of scrubbing my butt off.
	"I have to get ready for school! You're time's up!"
	"I'm not done yet!" I protested.
	"I don't care! Now get out!" she yelled once more, pressing her hands on 
my wet, bare rump as she scooted me out into the hallway where I was standing 
there naked.
	"Hurry up and get ready for school, Michael!" mom nagged me.
	"Katie pushed me out of the bathroom before I was done!"
	"You have ten minutes to catch your bus! Move it!"
	As I was headed to my room, Katie opened the door.
	"And take this filthy diaper with you!". she yelled as she tossed it out 
on the floor in the hallway. Having no time to deal with it, I threw it on top 
of the pile of clothes surrounding my hamper. detect their presence under the 
bed from their odor. They would have to be washed as soon as I got home from 
school, unless mom got to them before she left for her work.
	I quickly pulled on some underpants and then my jeans. My butt was still 
not totally wiped and the water from trying to get it cleaned off moistened the 
solidified fecal matter still on my rear end, causing it to soak into my 
underwear. I could smell it, too, and I knew that it would cause me a great deal 
of embarrassment from the other kids at school. I figured I could take care of 
the mess in my pants in the bathroom once I got to school, though the lingering 
smell would still be difficult to hide.
	I didn't even have time to eat breakfast, so I gulped down a glass of 
orange juice while I watched Katie, with her hair still wet, tear the house 
apart to find a notebook she needed. Just as I fled out the door Katie's ride, 
which was Vicki and her mom, showed up to pick Katie up.
	I just barely made it to the bus. As I took my seat, panting like a dog to 
catch my breath, I could sense the smell in my pants, as could the girl I ended 
up sitting next to. She winced in disgust as she got a whiff of the air. She 
then looked at me and said, "you stink!"
	I was very embarrassed now. I knew I would stink all day long no matter 
what I tried to do. I was willing to take a tardy for my first class as I needed 
to go into the bathroom and finish cleaning myself up. It took me another ten 
minutes to wipe up the remainder of the mess. There was still a lot of wet, 
stinky poop embedded into my underwear, which would smell for the remainder of 
the day. As I expected, I was late for my first class.
	By the time lunch hour arrived, many kids were aware of me smelling like I 
pooped my pants, which, in fact I did, just that it was last night. Every now 
and then someone in the hall would say, "hey, Stinky!" or, "hey, there goes 
Shitpants!" along with several other derogatory phrases that made reference to 
either my pants, my butt, or that I stank or smelled of shit.
	Needless to say it was a very trying day. It wasn't an easy day for Billy, 
either, as a lot of people thought he was the stinky one. Of course everyone 
knew where one's poop came from, so kids were looking at his rear end, where 
some could see that there was a bulge in there, a diaper!
	Billy was too embarrassed over having everyone find out he was wearing 
diapers to school (actually, pull-on diaper pants, not that it made any 
difference at this point). He didn't talk to me for the rest of the day and even 
went home early as he was too upset to deal with the humiliation.
	The bus ride home was even worse than the ride on the way to school. By 
the end of the day everyone knew that I smelled of poop. I got some jeers from 
the other kids on the bus. Nobody wanted to sit next to me, even though the bus 
was very crowded. I knew how Pigpen in the "Peanuts" comic strip must have felt.
	As I walked home from the bus stop I thought of all the trouble I had 
gotten myself into and vowed never to mess myself in bed if I had school the 
next day. School was not the place to carry over such evidence of pooping 
oneself. I would wait until a Friday or Saturday night when I didn't have to go 
to school the next day and I could clean myself up and get my diapers washed the 
following morning. At least I could still wear them at night.

MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: PART 15
---------------------------------

	There was little left to be revealed about my fetish for wearing and using 
diapers at this point. Spending a day at school reeking of poop was no fun after 
getting teased about it so much. I wasn't very popular to begin with among my 
classmates, but the reputation that I would carry from this day hereafter would 
only make me look more inferior and worthy of ridicule in the eyes of my 
classmates. Whether or not I ever went to school again in dirty underpants, few 
would forget that I was labeled "Shitpants" that day and would forever be 
remembered for it.
	Billy's big secret was revealed. How he could face his classmates with his 
need for wearing diapers now known to the entire student body would indeed be 
difficult for him. I feared that he would cease our friendship because of my 
actions, though he now needed support more than ever. As he had told me at the 
beginning of the year, I was the only true friend he ever had. Likewise, Billy 
was my first real friend. I felt as if I had betrayed him.
	I walked in the door and saw Katie sitting in the chair, presumably doing 
her homework. She was deeply engrossed in her reading. I paid little attention 
to her and to the materials she was reading as I walked by her and went straight 
into the bathroom to clean up the rest of the poop that was still stuck to my 
rear end.
	As I pulled down my pants and my underwear, a strong, foul odor, much of 
it that had been trapped in my pants all day, released itself and wafted up into 
my face. The entire seat of my underwear was smeared with poop that had spread 
throughout the back half of the briefs. On top of the stains that were already 
embedded into the fabric was a much larger, widely spread stain from the diluted 
layer of poop on my butt that I tried to clean off of me with water this 
morning. It all soaked into one layer of cotton, not enough to protect my pants 
from absorbing some of the mess.
	As the bathroom doorknob was broken, Katie was able to barge in on me 
while I was again consuming large lengths of toilet paper to wipe myself up. I 
was in a very compromising position when she swung the door open.
	"How was your day, Shitpants?" she asked me. "I heard that's what everyone 
called you today!"
	"Get out of here, Katie!" I demanded. She ignored me.
	"Boy, do you ever stink! Did you have poo poo in your undies today? Huh, 
huh? Did Mikey have POO POO in his UNDIES!"
	"I said get out!" I yelled. Katie continued to harrass me.
	"You went POO POO! Mikey went poo poo! Mikey went POO POO!"
	I tried to ignore her, but she wouldn't stop. I was wondering why she was 
being so persistent and making such a production of it when she usually just 
said a couple of things about it.
	"Mikey wants to wear diapers!" she teased. "My little brother wants to 
wear diapers! Nice, really thick diapers! You need them on your butt all the 
time because you're such a bad boy who likes to go poo-poo!"
	There was something suspiciously familiar about what she was saying to me. 
It sounded like something that I had written in one of my stories. It wasn't 
possible that she saw my stories, though it seemed as if she had been reading 
them, reciting some of the lines I had written into them.
	"I hope you realize you embarrassed me at school, too!" Katie said. 
"Everybody said, 'your brother must have pooped his pants! He really stinks 
today!' So you know what I told them? I said, 'I'm sorry, he's just my brother, 
and he's got a problem, he likes pooping his pants!'"
	"You told them THAT?!" I shrieked.
	"Yes, I did! And I'm right, you do have a problem! I hope you learned a 
lesson today!"
	"Yes, I'm never doing this again!" I said hastily. "Now get out!"
	"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Michael! Because I know you'll do it 
again! I know you will! I KNOW YOU WILL! You PANTS POOPER!"
	"Will you get the hell out of here!" I shouted.
	"You can't stop me! Dad broke the doorknob this morning!"
	Katie would not shut up. She was really putting on a show.
	"Pants-Pooper! Pants-Pooper! Pants-Pooper! My brother's a PANTS- POOPER!" 
She kept repeating it over and over, ignoring my pleas for her to shut the hell 
up!
	Frustrated, I threw my soiled underpants at her, right towards her face! 
She shielded herself with her arms in front of her and said, "Eeeww! Yuk! Get 
these filthy underpants of yours away from me, you pants-pooping brat!" She then 
threw them back at me, hitting me in the face, and then she charged towards me 
and pushed me into the corner of the bathroom. She held me down and swatted my 
bare butt about six times before I fought her off.
	"You don't know what kind of trouble you're in!" she said as she left, 
allowing me to finish cleaning myself up. She took my pants with her, too, just 
so I wouldn't have them to wear out of the bathroom. Since my underpants were 
too dirty to put back on, I exited from the bathroom naked and went into my 
room.
	The first thing I needed to do was to wash the diaper pants, so after I 
slipped some regular briefs on and a clean pair of pants. I then knelt down to 
retrieve the diaper pants I stuffed underneath my bed this morning. I lifted the 
bed spread and retrieved them, still lying there in a bundle of thick, white 
cotton lined with plastic, skid-marked, with a heavy swath of brown, dried shit 
running through the crotch and spreading out in the seat. I threw them in with 
my dirty socks and underpants and took them out to the washing machine and 
dumped them in. I added plenty of detergent and began the wash cycle. 
Remembering that I left my notebook of diaper stories underneath my bed I made 
the horrifying discovery that it was gone! I grabbed the flashlight that was 
still there under my bed and shone its beam around, seeing only bare carpet and 
dust bunnies, but no notebook!
	"Shit!" I interjected. "Where the hell is it?!"
	I tried to think about what I had done with it last time I had it out. 
Maybe I picked it up and set it down elsewhere in the room. I then clearly 
remembered setting it down under the bed. How could it disappear?! How could I 
allow it to disappear? Did I not push it underneath my bed far enough?
	I rummaged through my desk and looked around my closet. Nothing! I looked 
in every drawer, wondering if perhaps I had placed it somewhere else. Maybe I 
put it underneath my bottom dresser drawer along with the other pair of diaper 
pants that I had bought but had yet to use. The diaper pants were there, still 
wrapped, but the notebook was not!
	I dashed into the computer room and looked in every place I could think 
of. It was not there! Maybe mom saw it lying on the floor and took it! Maybe she 
threw it out on me! I scavenged for it in the garbage, but that only 
accomplished getting my hands and arms covered with wet, sticky gunk. I washed 
my hands off in the bathroom and desperately searched there, knowing it wouldn't 
turn up in the bathroom, but, in my irrational and panicked state of mind, hoped 
that perhaps it would appear.
	The only other possibility I could think of was that it was hidden 
somewhere, perhaps in mom and dad's room, where they would drag it out later and 
confront me about my stories. I started rehearsing my confession, thinking of 
how to explain why I had these stories and had written some of my own.
	Just as I was heading back to mom and dad's room I walked by Katie sitting 
in the chair and looked down at what I thought was her homework. Instead, it was 
my notebook! She had my diaper stories! It was right there on the first page of 
my first story, "Messy Michael."
	"What are doing with that?!" I shouted. I tried to seize it, but she 
quickly shut it and pulled it away from me.
	"Oh, this?" she said as she held up my notebook. "I found it in your room! 
Interesting stories you've been writing, Messy Michael!"
	"Don't call me that!" I told her.
	"Why not? It's what you call yourself in your story! It says it right 
here, 'Messy Michael!'"
	My jaw dropped to the floor. I was angry for Katie's outright intrusion 
into my bedroom. At the same time I was mortified as I realized that she now had 
my notebook of diaper stories! I saw it on her lap, open to one of my own 
stories! My most intimate, private thoughts were fully revealed!
	"What the hell were you doing in my room?!" I hollered.
	"I thought it was my notebook," Katie said, "because mine looks just like 
this one, on the outside, that is. It's red, too! Lots of papers in it, too! I 
thought it was my homework, so I went in to get it. I opened it up and found out 
it wasn't."
	"Give it back!" I demanded.
	"No, I want to read it some more," she said, keeping it away from me. 
"it's really, really...interesting. It lets me know just what my little brother 
thinks about all the time!"
	"Give it back!" I shouted. "And stay out of my room! You had no business 
going in there!"
	"I said, Michael, I thought it was *my* notebook!" Katie explained. "The 
one I was looking for this morning! I got home and I was walking to my room and 
I saw it under your bed as I walked *by* your room, so I went in there, thinking 
it was mine, and I picked it up and opened it. I discovered it was yours, but it 
looked so interesting, so I started reading it! You shouldn't have left it out 
if it was that private! Well, too late now! Besides, I've known it along-- you 
want to wear DIAPERS! It just tells me more, it tells me how you think, Michael! 
It tells me everything you didn't want me to know! It tells me how your bratty 
little boyish mind is thinking! You like to shit your pants! You like to be 
irresponsible! Just like I thought!"
	I stood there frozen and rigid as Katie rattled off everything she had 
suspected of my behavior. My skin must have turned pale as I could feel myself 
turn cold and clammy. My knees were getting wobbly. I was too shaken to fight 
back. All I could do was plead for Katie to relinquish the notebook. I was 
panting, practically hyperventilating at the sight of seeing my most secret 
writings suddenly exposed to my sister's eyes and being fed into her mind! My 
speech was hasty and hoarse.
	"Gimme, gimme, givitback! Givitback! Comeon, Katie, Gimmieitback!"
	"No!" she said, holding my diaper story notebook up against her chest. 
"I'm showing it to mom first!"
	Now I was getting defensive. The tension had built up inside of me and 
reached a boiling point. I leaped into the chair and tried to pry the notebook 
out of her tightly- gripping fingers.
	"Get off of me, dammit!" she yelled. "Ow! Stop pulling on my hair!"
	"Give it back! It's not yours!"
	I continued to struggle with her as she fought as hard to keep the 
notebook away from me as I did to get it from her. We had rolled off the chair 
and onto the floor, wrestling each other.
	"Get your smelly butt out of my face!" Katie shouted. "You're not getting 
it back until I show it to mom!"
	The fighting continued for another minute or so. I finally conceded and 
got off of her, exhausting all of my energy. I sat on the floor, trying to catch 
my breath. Katie was busy straightening her hair, still holding the notebook in 
one hand.
	"Don't try getting this away from me!" she said. "I'm stashing it in my 
room, and don't you dare go in there to find it!"
	"You went into my room!"
	"I had good reason! I have finals coming up! I needed my notebook to 
study! I didn't know it was yours, but its too late now that I've seen it! It 
was only a matter of time before someone would find out! I already knew it 
anyway! I can hear you shaking your bed through the wall every night! And I 
*know* you're not thinking about girls when you do it! Good God, Michael! How 
many twelve-year-olds spend their money on bedwetter pants?"
	"More than you might think," I said, regaining some of my energy.
	"Probably immature, irresponsible boys like you, I'm sure! I do know that 
when mom sees this she'll put you in diapers, since you want to wear them so 
bad. And they're really, really THICK, too! This is how you want them in your 
stories and this is how you will get them! You want them to be thick because you 
like to poop and pee in them a lot and you like to show them off because you 
want everyone to know that you're just an irresponsible and immature little boy! 
I was right, boys are so immature and irresponsible compared to girls, and you, 
Messy Michael, prove it in these stories you wrote!"
	"They're not all my stories," I said, though I realized that this excuse 
was of no use. I wasn't thinking at all now.
	"Oh? They aren't? Funny how most of them have boys like you in them who 
wear diapers!"
	I just stood there with my mouth agape. It felt like I was chewing on 
cotton because my mouth was so dry. I couldn't say anything. Katie continued to 
rattle off the key points I made in my stories.
	"I guess this explains all the writing that you were doing, even before we 
got the computer! I suppose this also explains what you do in your bed every 
night, besides shit and piss your undies and your diaper pants that you bought 
yourself! They're your stories, Michael. You wrote them, and they tell me just 
how you want to be treated!"
	"But they're just stories!" I said. "I didn't really mean any of that 
stuff I wrote!"
	"Ha! You go out and buy those diaper pants! What does that say?"
	My defenses were completely decimated now. All I could do was listen to 
Katie stand there in front of me, staring into my stunned face. She had her arms 
folded, still tightly clenching the notebook.
	"Does this mean you just buy them for no good reason?" she said.
	 "I don't think so!" she shook her head.
	"Here, I'll read it, tell me what you think!"
	Katie read the first few paragraphs of my first story and then stopped and 
closed it.
	"I don't think you'd write about yourself this way if you didn't want to 
be treated this way," she said. "That's the last thing I'd do, wear diapers, but 
then, I'm more mature and responsible than you are! Do you agree, Michael-- er, 
Messy Michael?"
	"Well, I--," I stammered.
	"Yep! You agree! You agree that you wish you could wear diapers again? You 
want your diapers to be really super thick and you even want *me* to change 
you?! You want me to lock you out of the bathroom? You want me to bring all my 
friends over so they can see how you have to wear diapers all the time? We can 
arrange that, Michael! I think it would be fun to be in charge of diapering my 
obnoxious bratty little brother! And I *will* make sure they are thick so I 
don't have to see or smell your shit messes anymore! Boy, are you ever going to 
be *diapered* by the time mom sees this and sees what you want us to do to you! 
You asked for it; your stories say it all, Messy Michael!"
	Katie then trotted off to her room with my notebook. She said one more 
thing before she closed the door: "The pictures you drew say that you want to 
wear diapers, too! I can't wait to show all my friends your drawings!"
	It was definitely too late now. And yes, in addition to stories were the 
dozens of pictures I drew of myself in diapers! I had drawn pictures based on 
some of my favorite stories. These pictures were quite explicit in that they 
featured me wearing very thick diapers!
	I didn't know whether to run away from home or stay there and hope the 
ground would swallow me up instead. I moved my wash load over to the dryer and 
then went into my room. I needed to do some studying that night, but right now I 
was in no mood for it. I didn't care right now if I failed every class this 
semester. I sat in my room, thinking about what had happened. Had I only taken 
the extra measure of security of locking it in my private box, this wouldn't 
have ever happened.
	I heard mom get home at about the time I expected her. I didn't know 
whether mom would follow through with my stories and treat me in the ways I 
described, but I did know that a long, serious discussion about it was about to 
come.
	Katie was already on her way out to the kitchen to see mom when I opened 
my bedroom door and saw her running with my notebook. She was eager and 
determined to let mom know about this as soon as possible.
	"Take a look at this, mom!" she exclaimed, holding the notebook.
	"Katie, give me a minute! I need to make a few phone calls! Certainly it 
can wait!"
	Katie sat patiently near mom as she waited for the chance to tell all. I 
nervously stood at my opened bedroom door and waited for the big confrontation. 
Mom finished her last call and hung up. I listened in on the dialog between 
Katie and mom. "Okay, what did you want to show me, Katie?"
	I walked out to the edge of the hall and peered into the kitchen. Katie 
opened up the notebook and leafed the pages to the first page of my first story, 
"Messy Michael".
	"Michael wants to wear diapers!" Katie said out loud. "Read his story! He 
wrote this!"
	Mom sat there and glanced at it, skimming through each page, briefly 
scanning each story that I had written.
	"I can't believe Michael would ever write anything like this! But then, 
when you consider how he's been behaving, I really shouldn't be surprised. Call 
your brother out here, Katie!"
	After I was called to the kitchen table, I sat down and faced the big 
confrontation that I had been nervously anticipating. Mom had the notebook 
opened in front of her, turned to the same page on which Katie had left it to 
present to mom. Mom's first words to me: "Michael, what *is* all of this?"
	I was stunned by the reality of watching this unfold before my eyes. I was 
unable to speak as I was too nervous to formulate words to explain my behavior.
	"Did you write *all* these stories?"
	"He did, mom! That's why he's been on the computer so much lately!" Katie 
said. "That's why he's been doing so much writing!"
	"Gee, and to think he was spending all his time on homework!"
	"They're not all mine," I said in a cracking, hoarse whisper. "Some are 
Billy's."
	Mom continued to go through the notebook, shaking her head in disbelief. 
"Why would you want to be treated this way so badly? I know you've exhibited 
this kind of behavior...I just never knew you were this involved! It obviously 
helps to satisfy a deep need of yours!"
	"Yeah, he shakes his bed every night and I can hear him doing it through 
the wall!" Katie blurted out so plainly and openly.
	"Everything in there is about diapers, mom!" Katie said, turning more 
pages. "These are all the stories he's been writing! I wouldn't be surprised if 
Michael wanted us to do some of this to him!"
	"I don't know, Katie, but now I'm concerned. I just can't imagine Michael 
becoming so obsessed with-- of all things-- diapers! But, Katie, I guess you're 
right, he must want to wear them!"
	"Oh, I know he wants to wear them!" she exclaimed. "Look at the pictures 
he drew!" she said, turning to the very back of the notebook where I kept the 
pictures. "Boy, he sure must want to wear some THICK diapers according to these 
pictures! And he wants *me* to put them on him! Boy, will he ever get his wish!"
	Without even looking, I knew exactly what was in that first picture. I 
drew myself from a rear view, bending over while picking up my toys. Behind "me" 
was Katie, pointing at me saying "Look! Michael's wearing a diaper! He looks so 
funny!" The next picture was me wearing a diaper that was much bigger and 
thicker-- drawn from the rear, of course. It had a caption that said "I got 
diarrhea today and mom didn't want to keep changing me so she put a really big 
THICK diaper on me!" The rest of the pictures were similar as far as depicting 
myself wearing diapers and expressing an extreme wish to be wearing them.
	Mom also read the pages of chat logs that I had printed out. These 
contained my most intimate feelings of all about wearing diapers. I had told 
Jake and John how I wanted to wear diapers so much but that I could never tell 
my parents. I went into the most explicit descriptions of fantasy scenarios I 
imagined myself being in, which would give mom and Katie ideas on how to treat 
me and how to diaper me.
	"Michael!" mom scolded me sternly.
	My heart was racing. I wasn't sure what was about to happen. I prepared 
myself for the worst, but just how bad could the "worst" possibly be? I 
momentarily thought about making a "deal" to confess to my parents that I wanted 
to wear diapers and would agree to a compromise. That plan was completely voided 
at this point. I sat before mom, shaking even more nervously.
	"What is all of this diaper stuff, Michael?" she opened, pointing to one 
of my drawings.
	 I stood there silently, my mouth was dry. Katie was standing off to the 
side snickering.
	"Well, what is it? Why do you do this stuff?"
	I finally spoke up. "I...I...just, just wrote it."
	"Why did you write it?" mom asked.
	"I just, I just...wanted-- to write it..." I paused for a moment. Mom just 
stood there and stared me straight in the eyes. "Keep going, Michael, I'm 
listening," she prompted.
	"I wrote it...because...I..I...I thought about what...it...would be 
like...to...w-w-wear...d-d-di..." I stopped for a moment to regain my composure. 
"diap...diapers." The hardest part of my explanation was over, but I wasn't out 
of the woods just yet. "I don't know why, mom, but I just thought about it."
	"Well, Michael, you've certainly thought about it quite a bit. You've 
written all these stories, and you've drawn all these pictures! You chat with 
these other boys who like to wear diapers like you, I mean...Michael...I..."
	Mom was at a loss for words momentarily before she could get herself back 
on track again and then continued to talk to me about the diaper stories.
	"From what I looked at in this notebook, Michael, and from your recent 
splurge on your savings account, this tells me you don't just think about it all 
the time, but you actually want to wear diapers! I know you do, Michael, 
everything here says it, and the way you have been acting recently says it. 
Maybe that incident out at Aunt Martha's and Uncle Ken's was the start of all 
this. Well, it's been established that you want to be diapered, so don't try to 
argue about it!"
	"What are you going to do, mom?" I asked her.
	"I don't know. I do want to look at the rest of this more closely, and I 
think your dad should see it, too. Now go to your room. I want you to stay there 
until your dad gets home."
	"Spank him, mom! Spank him!" Katie suggested. I recoiled at the mere 
thought.
	"What good will it do?" mom said in exasperation. "Michael has gone too 
far!"
	I knew I was in trouble, I just didn't know exactly what kind of trouble. 
My biggest concern was that I would probably lose my Internet privileges. Even 
though it was the Internet itself that got me into trouble with all the stories 
I had gotten from it and from chatting with fellow diaper buddies, I hated to 
think that I would no longer get to chat with Jake and John and that I couldn't 
get any more diaper stories. And what would happen to my notebook? I worried 
that perhaps it would get thrown in the trash, or worse yet, burned so that it 
could never again be retrieved!
	It was still an hour before I expected dad to get home. I sat in my room, 
just sat, and only sat, thinking about all that had happened and fearing what 
was to come. In the privacy of my room I cried at the sheer humiliation that 
this discovery of my secret had brought about. I was not prepared for it and 
never anticipated it. I lay down, hoping that I'd doze off into a nap so I could 
at least temporarily forget about what was happening today. Instead I just lay 
there anticipating what dad would say when he got home.

MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: PART 16
---------------------------------

	It was 6:30 when dad got home. The matter concerning my diaper stories was 
immediately brought to his attention. I expected him to come storming down the 
hall and busting my door down in a rage the minute he got home and found out. To 
stall him I pushed my dresser in front of my door so he couldn't barge in. As I 
expected, he came right to my room, He pushed the dresser out of the way with 
the door and knocked it over. I was so terrified. I was screaming, "no, dad! No, 
dad! Noooo! Daaaaaad!"
	He was holding my notebook in his hand, waving it in front of me.
	"Your mother showed me this, Michael!" he said. "What in the hell has 
gotten into you, son?!"
	I sat there silently, glancing around the room groping for an answer. All 
I could say was, "I don't know." I could feel the guilty expression beaming off 
of my face.
	Not a word was said as dad grabbed me off of the bed. He held the notebook 
open right in front of my face, shaking the pages angrily.
	"What is the meaning of this!" dad yelled as he slammed the notebook down 
on the floor. "Take those pants off now!"
	Already I was bawling.
	"Don't spank me, dad! I'm sorry!" I begged profusely.
	"Take them off, dammit!"
	"No!"
	"YOU DON'T EVER SAY 'NO' LIKE THAT TO ME! I AM YOUR FATHER!"
	Dad was screaming furiously now. His veins popped out of his broad neck, 
his face was red. His bared his teeth like those of a guard dog. He threw his 
hand back and then slapped me on my butt, still with my jeans on. This hurt bad 
enough, but it was only a preview of what was about to happen. I pulled my pants 
down as he had told me, but I still had my underwear on.
	Dad wasn't at all in the mood to play games with me, especially after 
coming home from a typical eleven-hour stress-filled shift as a manager at a 
hardware store. He grabbed me off the bed and turned me around, slapping me 
again across my behind a couple times before yanking my briefs down. He took his 
belt off and folded it in his hands.
	I cringed as I prepared for an incredible spanking. Very rapidly, dad 
delivered about fifteen leather lashes to my behind with his belt. He then 
slowed down his rate, but the swats came down on my backside harder, which hurt 
worse. It didn't make any difference how much I cried as dad kept at it, again 
increasing the rate and still maintaining the velocity of his belt.
	By the time dad was done spanking me my butt was on fire, at least it felt 
that way. Dad left me hunched over on the bed crying. My underpants were still 
at my shaking knees as I pulled them back up and rubbed my swollen rump trying 
to alleviate the pain. Before dad left the room he said, "we'll talk about this 
later! You just stay right here in your room until I call you out!"
	Dad then slammed the door and left me in my room. I knew I was going to be 
in more trouble over this. I nervously anticipated the worst. I knew a long 
grounding was in order. Hopefully, I thought, this was the last spanking I would 
ever get from him. I could still feel it stinging as if I were still being 
spanked. The loud slaps of leather on my skin still rang in my ears like 
gunfire.
	The next hour passed so slowly. Every minute seemed like an hour. The 
paradoxical silence, only broken intermittently by the cycle of the furnace, 
crashed loudly into my ears. I got up and stood the dresser back up and then 
quietly opened my bedroom door to listen to my mom and dad talk about what they 
were going to do. For ten minutes all dad could do was holler. He must have gone 
out to his shop to hit the punching bag as I could hear the back door slam. Five 
minutes later he came back in, hopefully in a better mood. He must have been as 
I heard mom and Katie talking with him.
	"I say put the brat in diapers!" I heard Katie suggest. "Read this, it's 
just what he wants, the little pants-pooper, him!"
	"I've been reading it Katie," I heard dad say. "No doubt he wants to wear 
diapers! But if we put him in diapers, then are we really punishing him?"
	 "You'd better believe it! He'll hate going to school in them!" Katie 
remarked. "Those kids are pretty mean if they have something to tease you 
about!"
	 "What else can we do?" mom said. "He'll want to wear them whether or not 
we try to stop him. Maybe he'll get tired of having them on all the time, 
especially if we don't change him for several hours after he's used them."
	"He's not the son I expected to raise!" dad said with a raised voice.
	"What kind of son did you expect to raise?" mom asked him. "If this is how 
he turned out, so be it; he's still our son!"
	"Look! I know he's our son! He's not going to grow up to be a man at this 
rate!"
	The fiery, bitter words had rekindled. Mom and dad then started arguing 
over dad's highly distorted and stereotyped profile of what he expected all boys 
to grow up into, big, burly macho hulks who like to work on cars, work with 
tools and play football. No matter how hard mom tried to assert that "not all 
boys or men are into those things," dad wouldn't budge. I really resented dad 
for trying to make me fit into a mold in which I wasn't cast. Maybe this episode 
was the final moment that would once and for all convince dad that, even though 
I did not fit his ideal perception of what defines masculinity, that I was still 
a boy in my own right. Quite frankly, I had to agree more with Katie's ideas and 
expectations of boys, that I was immature and irresponsible.
	Whether the argument was settled peacefully I don't know. Dad must have 
conceded as his last words were, "fine, put him in diapers! If he wants to be a 
baby, let him be a baby! I don't care anymore!"
	Mom then said, "Come on, Katie, let's go get--" I couldn't hear the last 
few words as the furnace kicked on again and drowned out everything I could hear 
in the kitchen. I walked over to the other side of my room and looked out the 
window. I saw the car backing out of the driveway. About twenty minutes later 
mom and Katie were back home. I got up again and listened to the activity out in 
the kitchen. I heard bags rustling. Katie was saying, "I can't wait to see you 
put those on Michael!" I had it figured out that they went out to get me 
diapers, and it would only be a matter of minutes before I would be wearing 
them.
	I heard dad say, "I think it's time to bring Michael out here now." I 
quickly shut my door and went over to my bed and sat on it as dad came to the 
door and knocked on it.
	"Michael?"
	"Yes, dad?" I quivered, looking at him with my teary, red, swollen eyes.
	"Come out here, we need to talk," he said firmly.
	I knew he still wasn't happy, but at least he was keeping his cool. I knew 
that he wouldn't stay calm if I didn't cooperate, so I got off of my bed and 
opened the door.
	"Come out to the kitchen," is all dad said when I opened the door. I kept 
my pants off and followed him out to the kitchen in just my shirt and my 
underwear. He immediately turned away and headed down the hall, looking back to 
make sure I was following behind him.
	I took my chair at the kitchen table and sat down. Mom and Katie were both 
already seated and ready to watch dad confront me about my stories. Katie looked 
so excited anticipating what was about to happen to her little brother. In the 
center of the table was the notebook, which was now closed, some of the papers 
torn loose from the rings by dad's violent handling of the notebook earlier.
	"Your mother showed me this notebook of yours, Michael," dad began as he 
held it up and opened it to the first page, revealing the title page right at 
the front in big, bold letters, reading "MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES." He 
immediately turned it to the next page, on which was printed my first diaper 
story.
	His lecture then resumed:
	"I see that you have found a good way to use the computer we bought for 
you this Christmas, and we're glad to see that you're using it the way we 
intended, to encourage you to write. However, this isn't exactly what we were 
expecting to see you write."
	So far dad was being subtle and somewhat evasive in getting to the point 
of this discussion. He continued:
	"I don't have to tell you what I've seen in this notebook as I'm sure 
you're very well aware of its contents. One thing is very clear as you have very 
explicitly expressed by these stories and these drawings-- you want to be put 
back into diapers."
	 Those words-- "you want to be put back into diapers"-- rang clearly and 
repeatedly through my mind. Dad knew what I wanted, but I wasn't prepared for 
him to find out.
	There was a lot more he had to tell me:
	"You seem to be very happy with this pre-occupation you have with diapers. 
Maybe it's some kind of addiction, maybe you get some kind of high off of it, I 
don't know. I wish I understood. But I don't."
	Surprisingly, most of this seemed to be pretty cool to my dad. He seemed 
to be taking a Ward Cleaver approach to it, a side rarely seen by my own father. 
If the Beaver had been caught wearing diapers, this is probably how his dad 
would have handled it.
	"Your mother and I discussed it already," dad concluded, "and we have 
decided that you will wear diapers from now on. Period."
	While I knew this was what was going to happen, I wasn't ready to deal 
with having my deepest secret exposed to the family in such a blatant way. Every 
thought I had about diapers was on paper. Every word I wrote expressed this wish 
so deeply.
	I acted surprised at mom and dad's decision to put me into diapers as my 
stories so clearly indicated. I said, "you're not serious, are you, dad?"
	"Yes, Michael, we *are* serious," dad stated very matter-of-factly. "I 
think to keep you away from this activity would be harder on the rest of us, and 
on you, because we know this is what you want. Your mother went out and bought 
some more diapers for you while I sat here and read your stories."
	"Wait, dad, I...," I started to say.
	"Don't try to deny yourself out of this one!" dad warned me. "If you want 
to be an irresponsible LITTLE BOY, then this is how you will be treated! Now go 
to your mother; she is ready to diaper you."
	Mom had excused herself from the table and returned with a very large 
stack of diapers and some very big plastic pants, just like what I had written 
about in my own stories, the same ones that I bought for myself. The diapers 
looked like they would be even bigger and more prominent on me than the diapers 
pants that I had bought for myself. The diapers were gleaming of newness and as 
pure white as they'd ever be, and at least as thick, too! I knew they wouldn't 
remain their virgin state after they got broken in with an initial wetting and 
soiling.
	I sat there staring at the stack of diapers hesitantly, unprepared for 
actually getting diapered as I had written about. I knew they were going to go 
on me very thickly.
	"Come on, Michael," mom said with a stack of diapers in her arms.
	"But I, I just--," I stuttered. I couldn't believe what I saw. My parents 
were going to make me wear diapers by force. I couldn't imagine that they would 
ever do this to me. I always thought of this happening only in my stories-- in 
fantasy-- and now it was happening to me for real.
	"It was just a story," I tried to excuse myself. "I-I- I didn't really 
mean it," I said. I didn't feel that I was ready for this, and I certainly 
didn't expect it.
	"You did too mean it, Michael!" my mom countered. "Now get those 
underpants off!" she commanded.
	I stood still for a moment, looking at Katie as she stood there, waiting 
to watch me strip off my underwear. I knew that I was stuck in this situation 
with no way out. The least I could have is some privacy.
	"Can I go in my room and do this?" I requested.
	"Nope. Do it right here, on the floor," mom said.
	"You need to take your underwear off, Michael," Katie reminded me. "Mom's 
waiting to diaper you. I guess I'll take your underwear off for you."
	 Katie then quickly approached me, grabbed my waistband and started 
pulling my underwear off for me.
	"All right! I'll take them off!" I said, fighting Katie away from me. I 
then pulled the briefs back up. She stood back and said, "okay, but this will 
probably be the last time you'll ever take off your own underwear!
	"Take it off, Michael," mom ordered one more time.
	"Wait!" said Katie. She walked behind me and yanked my underwear up into 
my butt.
	"Hah! I just had to give him a wedgie one last time! I know I can't do 
that after he's diapered!"
	"How right you are Katie," mom said. "Even Michael knows that because he 
wrote about it in his stories!"
	And I did write about this, too, among many other details that mom, Katie, 
and dad all seemed to remember quite well. They were getting a lot of ideas from 
my stories. I expected most of these ideas to be executed appropriately as the 
opportunities arose.
	I still had yet to remove my underwear. My mom warned that I would be 
spanked again if I did not take my underwear off. Having taken all the spanking 
I could stand, I pulled the seat of it out of my crack to undo the wedgie that 
Katie just gave me. I turned my back to Katie before removing my underpants and 
baring my reddened, swollen bottom. I'd rather she see my backside than my 
genitals. I was really nervous at this point.
	"Ooh, did dad ever spank you hard!" Katie commented.
	"Katie's going to see a lot more of you being naked like that since she'll 
be doing some of your diaper changes!" mom said. "So get used to it!"
	"First, we have to treat your skin so don't get diaper rash," mom said as 
she applied the powder that she bought along with my diapers. I flinched as mom 
rubbed it over my tender, sore skin on my bum. Next came the long-anticipated 
diapers. She took three of the diapers and put them all together, forming a very 
thick, fluffy pile. She then slid them beneath my crotch and my bottom.
	Mom was not kidding when she said they'd be thick. Even twenty pairs of 
underwear didn't amount to nearly the bulk of three of the diapers. Having no 
control of my body, I became erect at the thought of what such thick diapering 
was going to feel like and look like on me.
	"See, Michael likes it!" Katie quipped, noting my stiff penis.
	Mom then pinned the huge, thick diapers on me very tightly and securely. 
She used six pins on each side just to ensure that they would stay on awhile. 
They were the same large, long pins that I bought so that the could accommodate 
more diapering material. While mom got my plastic pants ready I wiggled my legs, 
much like a baby would do. The diapers felt so thick as I sat up and looked down 
at my crotch. The outer layers of the diapering bulged out several inches away 
from my skin. They were pulled up and packed so solidly in between my legs. 
Katie was quick to observe my leg-wiggling.
	"See, he's already acting like a baby!" Katie shouted out.
	I wasn't sure I could ever get used to being diapered so heavily. Mom saw 
how I was so closely examining the enormous thickness of the triple-thick 
diapers that covered my entire stomach and everything below it all the way 
around to my lower back on the other side.
	"Thick enough for you, Michael?" mom asked me. I nodded my head in 
agreement.
	"Good!" mom said. "You seem to like them to be really thick in your 
stories and in your pictures, Michael. We're just going by what you wrote."
	Last came the plastic pants. Mom unfolded them and held the frosty white 
garment up in front of me. I couldn't help but to be marveled by how big they 
were!
	"These will fit rather tightly Michael," mom said, "but then, you've got 
*lots* of diaper to cover!"
	Mom pulled up the enormous plastic pants over my large mass of diapers 
until they were tightly in place. Mom went around me and tucked the diapers 
inside of the plastic pants. Of course she patted my butt when she was done; I 
expected it.
	Before I got up, I tried putting my legs closer together, but the diapers 
made it impossible to do that. They were so much thicker than anything I had 
ever worn.
	"Okay, you're done," mom said. "How does he look?" mom asked dad.
	"Like a baby boy! Like a damn baby boy!" dad pouted.
	"I am really disappointed in you, son," dad said. "Just don't come to me 
if you need to be changed, you understand?"
	"Yes, dad" I said with a nervous, crackling voice.
	"I get to change you!" Katie said. "Every day after school, since mom 
isn't home then!"
	"No more going over to Billy's!" mom said. "You are grounded! You are to 
come straight home, get your pants off, have Katie change you, and then stay in 
just your diapers until you go to school the next day! And don't ask us to 
change you, Michael! We'll decide when you're ready!"
	"What if Katie isn't home?" I asked.
	"Then you wait," mom answered firmly and swiftly. "Those diapers do *not* 
come off!"
	There was no question that I would not be wearing my pants while I was in 
diapers, which was one of the things I emphasized in my own stories. Still, I 
asked mom about how I would wear pants.
	"You think we'd diaper you up like this, Michael, and then allow you to 
conceal it?!" mom said. "Not according to your stories! Get his pants, Katie. 
All of them! Bring 'em here!"
	"Anything you say, mom!" Katie obliged gleefully as she trotted into my 
room and gathered up all of my pants. Along with them she included my shorts and 
my swimming trunks, leaving me nothing at all to wear except for diapers, not 
that it mattered as nothing else I had would fit over my diapers anyway. She 
plopped them onto the kitchen table and went through the pockets of each one 
before folding them.
	"What will you do with those, mom?" I asked her.
	"I'll have to sell them and get more money to buy more diapers. They won't 
fit you anymore, that's for sure!"
	There was one obvious question that hadn't yet been addressed.
	"What will I wear to school?"
	"Diapers, what else?" mom said. "You do realize that you will be wearing 
diapers to school, you know."
	"Do I get to wear pants?" I asked.
	"I bought you some new pants, too. Go get his pants, Katie," mom said. 
"We'll have you try them on now so we'll know if they fit."
	Katie brought in another bag in which it contained a new pair of jeans. 
They weren't the best as far as style, but at least I wouldn't be going to 
school in just diapers, I hoped anyway. One thing was for sure, they were big! 
They were for someone much bigger around the middle than I was, without diapers, 
that is. Even though they fit-- which surprised me since they looked too big-- 
they didn't come up high enough to go over my diapers. In fact, over two inches 
of the diapers stuck out above my pants and the diapers went up even higher in 
the rear.
	Mom then had me take them off so that she could trim and hem up the legs.
	"You will only wear these in school and in public," mom reiterated.
	"Yeah, Michael!" Katie added. "The rest of the time you'll be in just your 
DIAPERS!"
	Katie finished folding the last of my pants and shoved them into a plastic 
bag.
	"Bye-bye, Michael's pants!" she said, waving her hand ceremoniously in the 
bag.
	"What'll we do with his underwear?" Katie asked.
	"We'll have to throw it out. He's pooped and peed in them all so much and 
they're badly stained. Maybe I can drop them off at the thrift store. If 
anyone's desperate enough to take them, they will."
	Mom and Katie bagged up all of my washed underwear and stuffed it into the 
bag with my pants, ready to be taken to the thrift store. Katie then closed the 
bag by holding it and twisting its top and tying it into a tight knot.
	"Oh, and one more thing, Michael," mom said before she dismissed me.
	"You'll be grounded from your Internet privileges because of this."
	"What?" my mouth gaped.
	"Remember, I told you that you'd better keep your pants clean, and of 
course, you didn't! Quite honestly, Michael, I didn't think it would last very 
long."
	"Can I just write e-mail?"
	"No, Michael! You blew it! No more chatting with your diaper buddies, no 
more getting diaper stories! Heavens, you have enough stories as it is!"
	"When will I get my privileges back-- or will I?"
	"We'll wait and see, but right now, you are in a lot of trouble!"
	I went back to my room and sat down on the floor, totally in disbelief 
that everything that I wrote about was now really happening to me! No longer was 
it a fantasy. It hadn't even been twenty minutes and already the reality of this 
treatment was setting in. I really wasn't prepared to deal with all the sudden 
attention that I was getting. I knew that this treatment wouldn't just be 
temporary. According to my stories, I never got out of diapers once I started 
wearing them. As my mom was trying to follow my stories as closely to the letter 
as possible, I would remain in diapers all my life, at least as long as I was 
living with my mom and dad. Still, I wanted to know what kind of treatment mom 
and dad had in mind for me.
	For the remainder of the evening I waddled around trying to get used to 
wearing such big diapers. Katie kept staring at me, giggling as she observed me 
waddling around. She even took several pictures of me. I was quite a sight, 
indeed, my long, smooth slender legs bowing out from my torso with this massive, 
bulging pure white diaper wrapped around it several layers thick. My plastic 
pants, brand spanking new, so to speak, crinkled and crackled with each step, 
their creases converging towards my crotch. Through the translucent material the 
safety pins were showing and pressing against the tight layer of plastic as if 
to be trying to penetrate it. The diapers rose up so high all around me. Had I 
been wearing pants, the diapers would have been showing above them by at least 
three inches, but since I had nothing over my diapers, it didn't matter how high 
they came up on my body. My diapers were completely exposed, no matter how I 
sat, stood or otherwise positioned myself. My entire front was a big bulge 
formed by the diapers. At least nobody could tell when I had a hard-on, though a 
close examination would reveal whether or not I had used them up front. The rear 
was the most prominent part of my diapers as this view occupied the greatest 
amount of coverage on my body, and, if it weren't for smell, nobody would ever 
know when I soiled them back there.
	I was only in diapers for a few minutes before I felt the need to use them 
already. I waited a few minutes more and then I wet into them. As there was so 
much material in them, they could take a great deal more wetting before a 
changing was necessary. Mom must have been able to tell that I was peeing in 
them from the my face looked.
	"How do those diapers feel, Michael?" she asked me.
	"They're wet now," I said.
	"Get used to it, because we're not going to be changing you several times 
a day. This is what you wanted, isn't it?" mom asked.
	I couldn't lie. "Yes," I said.
	"Good, because there's no turning back now! Katie will change you before 
you go to bed, even though you won't need a change until morning. She just needs 
to get used to changing you."
	Dad then jumped in and said, "in case you change your mind, Michael, and 
decide to go back to the toilet, we'll have that taken care of, too. I'm putting 
a key lock on the bathroom door tomorrow, just like your stories say. I'll get 
one from the store tomorrow. We needed a new knob on the bathroom door, anyway."
	 Mom made me drink two full glasses of water to ensure that I would wet in 
them. After Katie performed my diaper change she was to give me two more glasses 
of water. This was to "condition" me to wet diapers, as mom explained.
	It wasn't long before I needed to wet in my diapers again. The water had 
processed quickly and filled my bladder in what seemed like an instant. This 
time I could feel the materials getting heavier from the weight of my urine 
soaking them, though they were so thick that the wetness hadn't even approached 
the diapers' capacity. The dampness inside of the diapers increased to a fully 
wet feeling. Katie had me lay down on the floor where she undid the tight 
pinning and pulled away the wet diapers. I looked at them as she set them aside, 
noting the large yellow spot that marked the front of them. She wiped up my 
genital area and powdered it for the next diapering. I tried to avoid getting 
hard while she ran the wipes over my balls and around my bottom, but my body's 
reaction to this stimulus was unavoidable.
	Katie laid four diapers down on the floor instead of just three that mom 
had put on me before. I couldn't imagine that they could even go on me so 
thickly, but Katie made sure that they would. After she had the diapers 
underneath me she brought them up very tightly into my crotch, where they widely 
spanned and filled the space in between my legs with their soft, fluffy 
materials. My boner was pressed upward against my stomach as she pulled the 
front of the diapers over my stomach. She pinned them back on as tightly as mom 
did when she diapered me. She also replaced my day shirt and put on my white 
undershirt for me, purposely choosing a smaller shirt that I had outgrown just 
so more of my diapers would show.
	My plastic pants went on tightly and snugly over my diapers as Katie 
pulled them up on me. She even put a second pair of plastic pants on "just for 
good measure," as she explained. She then gave me the inevitable maternally-
driven pat on my bottom and told me to sir on my bed and wait for her to bring 
me two glasses of water as mom had prescribed. She watched me sip the water 
down, some of it dripping onto my plastic pants and trickling down in beads 
towards my crotch. When I finished the second glass, Katie told me to get into 
bed. As my butt protruded towards her she patted my cotton-wrapped tush, again 
failing to resist her temptation to act upon this impulse.
	After I was under the covers she bent down and said, "Good night, baby 
brother!" She then kissed me! Yeecch! She then warned me not to wake her for a 
change, no matter how much I peed or pooped my diapers.
	"You'll have to wait until morning."
	I lay down with my legs forced open, kept widely apart by having so much 
material bunched up in my crotch. I felt so secure in my diapers, knowing that 
if I needed to go to the bathroom, I'd have to stay right there in my bed and 
sleep with pee and poop kept in the diapers for the next several hours until 
someone would change me. I couldn't help but to enjoy the feel of my diapers. 
Never before had I worn something so thick as the diapers I was wearing now. My 
erection still remained from when I got changed earlier and I couldn't help but 
to satisfy it. I massaged the thick bulge of diapering on the front of me, 
feeling how the material went up so high over my stomach as I felt it beneath my 
elbows. I rubbed my hands over the tightly stretched layer of plastic and shook 
the bed vigorously until I ejaculated. Right as I stopped, Katie swung the door 
open and caught me in the act, my hands were still on the front of my diapers, 
the covers thrown off of me.
	She turned on the light and handed me my notebook.
	"You can have your stories back," she said, tossing it onto my chest. 
"You're going to break your bed if you're not careful," she added as a way of 
hinting that she knew what I had been doing.
	After Katie left the room and turned the ceiling light off I turned my 
lamp on and glanced through my stories. It felt different to read them while 
knowing that the rest of the family has also read my explicit descriptions of 
peeing and pooping in diapers and enjoying the feelings it produced, along with 
my repeated expressions of my desires to be diapered. After a few minutes of 
reading my stories over, I set the notebook down under my bed to keep it out of 
sight of others, though I realizing now that it was pointless to try hiding it 
at this point.
	As I drifted off to sleep I pondered an old adage that was ringing so very 
true at this moment:
	Be careful what you ask for; you might get it.

MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: PART 17
---------------------------------

	I woke up the next morning and was reminded of how thickly diapered I was 
when I rolled over onto my stomach and felt the materials pressing up into my 
crotch. I had wet into them overnight, just as the four glasses of water I drank 
the night before were expected to make me do. I just hoped someone would change 
me before leaving to school, where I wasn't at all looking forward to going.
	Mom came in and threw back the covers, seeing me lying there awake, though 
my eyes were closed as they had not yet adjusted to the bright overhead light. 
My legs were spread apart, between them, sopping wet, yellow-tinged diapers. Mom 
ran her hand over the bulge on the front of my diapers and saw my yellow liquid 
squishing around in the cotton layers, all sealed in by my plastic pants. She 
sighed for a moment, looking at me lying there as if I were her little baby boy 
again still asleep in his crib. She said, "my, what a wet little boy we have 
this morning! I'm sure I'll get used to changing you every morning again after 
eight years, and you'd better get used to it, too, Michael."
	Mom then returned with a new stack of diapers and a clean pair of plastic 
pants. While I was still lying on my bed she pulled off the plastic pants and 
undid the diapers. She wiped me dry and applied a generous layer of powder. When 
mom saw that Katie could get four diapers on me, she decided to do the same and 
diaper me up just as heavily for the day as Katie had diapered me for bed last 
night, For me there was no distinction between nighttime diapers and daytime 
diapers.
	Mom then got out my pants. I expected her to at least let me put them on 
myself, but instead mom put them on for me. I wasn't even allowed to change my 
shirt. She took off my white undershirt and changed it with a regular shirt, 
though she told me that she would replace my shirts, too, and find something 
that would look more appropriate on a toddler. She felt that if didn't want to 
be responsible enough to go to the toilet then why should I be expected to be 
responsible for dressing myself, either? Perhaps all of this would lead to my 
not having any responsibility at all.
	Going to school this morning would be tough, I realized as I noted how 
conspicuously my diapers exposed themselves above my pants, and the bulge! I 
tried to tuck the diapers down in my pants, but there was way too much material 
in them to stuff them in my pants, so I had to leave the top three inches 
showing. At least my shirt was long enough to cover my diapers as was my coat, 
though neither of these could conceal the bulge underneath my pants. I knew that 
by the end of the day that I would lose any acceptance and respect that I ever 
had from anybody, which wasn't much.
	I then went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Katie had walked by and 
told me that brushing my teeth and taking closely supervised baths would be the 
only time I would ever see the bathroom. I ate a quick breakfast and got my 
school bag ready. Before I left for the bus I asked mom if I could take extra 
diapers along in case I needed to change.
	"Nope, and don't ask why because you already know!"
	The bus ride with the other kids marked the beginning of what I would deal 
with for the rest of the day. As it was too dark outside and that the bus was 
dimly lit, nobody could tell that I had diapers on, at least visually. There was 
no mistaking the crinkling sound in my pants, though. As I took my seat and sat 
my butt down I could feel my weight shifting the plastic pants around ever so 
noisily, at least to me as I was paying so much attention to every move I made 
and everyone who appeared to be looking at me. I really didn't want to step off 
that bus and walk around the school with diapers on, but I had no choice.
	I walked more slowly than normal, and I had to walk with my legs forced 
apart by the diapers wedged into my crotch. Never before had I felt so self-
conscious at school. I knew that every step I took made a crinkling sound. 
Somebody had to have noticed the extra material under my pants. I knew for sure 
that it wouldn't be long before somebody would find out and tell the whole 
school. In fact, I had just gotten to my locker before going to my first class 
when someone walked by and pointed out that I was wearing diapers!
	"Check it out, guys!" said the boy, one of whom I did not recognize. "This 
kid's wearing diapers!" He was pointing right at my padded rear end. I avoided 
bending over for obvious reasons, but my diapers were still detected when I 
knelt down. I knew that from this very moment on I would forever be known by 
this particular distinction. The girl opening her locker next to me gave me a 
strange look. Next I heard three girls walk by and say, "there's Michael! Look 
at his diapers! See them?"
	Now a small crowd had gathered around my locker to see me with diapers on 
beneath my pants. I was afraid to turn around and face the circle of gawkers 
that swarmed around me. All I could do was stand there with my bulging butt 
facing them. As the warning tardy bell sounded the crowd dissipated, though some 
decided that the sight was worth being late to class. I wish the floor could 
have just opened up and swallowed me right there. I was very embarrassed, to say 
the least. As I walked swiftly to my first class, my fast steps moved my body 
enough to further amplify the sound of the plastic pants. I got some more 
strange looks, and people behind me couldn't miss the constant sound of plastic 
wrinkling in my bulging pants with each step. In spite of my haste to beat the 
bell, I walked in late and I was marked tardy. Walking into a classroom full of 
students who were already seated was embarrassing enough, but the fact that they 
were all staring at my bulging pants made it that much worse. Everyone started 
laughing and pointing at me as I made my way to my assigned seat in the back, 
passing by everyone and drawing long and attentive stares. They ridiculed me for 
my big pants and the ever- present bulge underneath it. The laughter continued 
in spite of the teacher's efforts to quiet the class. I could hear the words 
"diaper" and "pants" in the laughter. I just took my seat and buried my head on 
my desk, which only drew even more attention, especially when I started crying. 
While I refrained from vocalizing my distressed feelings I could do nothing to 
stem the flow of tears.
	During the teacher's dull lecture I thought about how something that 
brought me so much pleasure-- diapers-- was also causing me a great deal of 
misery. I gave it some more thought and reasoned that it wasn't wearing diapers 
that caused me so much emotional pain as the humiliation that it produced. It 
wouldn't have mattered what people were laughing at me about-- getting laughed 
at and mocked by your peers at school for any reason was always hard to take. I 
knew that I was rationalizing, but at least it made me feel better about wearing 
diapers to think of it this way. No mater what perspective I tried to put things 
in, there was nothing I could do to stop the forthcoming teasing that I 
anticipated throughout the day, the week, the rest of the school year-- every 
school year until I graduated. That was over five years from now!
	I was only in my second period class and already I needed to pee. I was 
only at the threshold of sensing the call of nature and could hold it as if I 
were going to wait for the next bell and use the bathroom, though holding it for 
this reason was no longer necessary. Still, the classroom environment was too 
inhibiting to allow me to relax enough to release the flow from my bladder. I 
had to go sooner or later, but right in the middle of class wasn't a good time 
for wetting my diapers. Instead I waited for the next bell and decided to go 
into the bathroom, not for the use of any toilets, but to be in an environment 
in which I was more accustomed to eliminating bodily wastes and that would offer 
me more privacy.
	By the time the bell rang a half hour later my urge to urinate went beyond 
the threshold and I was now at the point that I could not completely ignore the 
feeling in my body, though I wasn't yet at a critical stage. Still, I knew that 
I would continue to feel an increasing need to pee until I wet into my diapers, 
either intentionally or when my bladder could no longer stand the tension.
	All throughout the day, whether I was in class or en route to my next 
class I heard people around me drawing their own attention and the attention of 
others to me wearing diapers. Many of them didn't even know who I was until they 
found out that I was the one in diapers that everyone was talking about. Boys 
and girls alike were teasing me and calling me several different names. In 
particular, there were three girls, Judy, Sarah, and Rhonda, who already liked 
making fun of me and I avoided them. They mockingly flirted with me and 
pretended to have a crush on me, though they really thought that I was a total 
dweeb and just liked to see me run away from them.
	I ran into this particular threesome and hoped to steer away from them 
unnoticed, but they caught me going through the hallway waddling in my big pants 
that were fitted for my equally prominent diapers. Now that they knew I was 
wearing diapers they walked up behind me and started calling me "Baby Butt" and 
offered to change my diapers. When I sped up and walked away from them they 
threatened to "spank me for running away from Mommy."
	After I ditched those obnoxious girls I entered the bathroom and headed 
for one of the stalls rather than stand at one of the urinals out in the open. 
Anyone standing next to me who might catch a glimpse in their peripheral vision 
would see the diapers billowing out from my opened fly and would know that I 
wasn't peeing into the urinal. I couldn't hold onto my penis and would have to 
pinch some material from the front of the diaper instead, which would make my 
mock urination look even more obvious.
	Before I got to the stall door one of the boys who was stepping away from 
the urinal saw me. He was among the growing majority of classmates that knew 
about me having diapers on in school. He asked me, "why are you going in there? 
Don't you have a diaper on?" Another boy who had walked in had overheard the 
other's comments and said, "so *you're* the one I've heard about! The kid who's 
wearing DIAPERS!"
	I shut the stall door and waited until the two boys who had harassed me 
left. Before I heard one of them walk out, he said, "So what are you doing in 
there, kid, changing your DI-DEE?!"
	I tried to stand before the toilet as if I were peeing into it, but there 
was too much traffic going in and out of the bathroom for me to feel 
comfortable. I then sat down on the toilet, my pants still pulled up, and tried 
to pee that way. I tried to shut out the sounds of the others in the bathroom, 
but they were too distracting. I was afraid to leave the stall, knowing that I 
would probably get the same kind of reaction when the other boys saw me exit the 
stall. Wet or no wet, I had to get out of there quickly since the tardy bell was 
due to ring soon.
	I didn't escape the bathroom without getting teased for wearing diapers. 
The boy said, "hey, you're that diaper kid! What'cha sittin' on a toilet for? 
Pulling your pud?"
	That was it! I felt that I could no longer enter a bathroom without 
someone making a comment about my diapers. I realized that it seemed highly out 
of a place for someone in diapers to be seen using a toilet, but there few other 
places within the school grounds that I could go-- literally "go"-- where I 
would be comfortable enough to pee into my diapers. The only other place this 
seemed possible was in the library. If I could withstand sitting through another 
class holding my pee I would stop in the library just long enough to wet my 
diaper. It was too late to do it now as the bell was about to-- damn! I was 
tardy for my next class! Two tardies in one day!
	Again I had to walk into a classroom full of kids who were already seated, 
every pair of eyes fixed on me as I scurried towards my desk. While I didn't 
have to walk to the back of the classroom, I was in view of most of the other 
kids who sat behind me. Now that the news had spread to most of the student 
body, more people knew to look for the telltale bulge in my pants, and no doubt 
did they all see it!
	By now I was getting a bad feeling about keeping my diapers dry until I 
could get to the library. Mr. Turner, my English teacher, was reviewing the 
material that we would be tested on for the final, but he spent more time trying 
to keep the class in order. Everyone was making jokes and remarks about my 
diapers. Mr. Turner didn't even know why everyone seemed to be so unusually 
disruptive today, but he was losing his cool. He threatened to send the next 
person who talked to see Mr. Polk, the vice principal. Considering Mr. Polk's 
notoriety, the threat of seeing him was enough to quiet even the most talkative 
ones.
	Even after the class quieted down, I still felt that being in diapers and 
having a desperately full bladder made it hard to think about anything else, 
certainly not the upcoming test. I wanted to ask Mr. Turner if I could leave for 
the bathroom, but everybody knew that I had diapers on and I would have further 
caused myself more ridicule had I asked to go to the bathroom.
	Suddenly, the inhibiting environment of the classroom gave way to the 
tension in my bladder. My diapers were only slightly damp from nervous sweating 
before I flooded into them. After an initial blast of urine, it trickled out in 
spurts as I kept thinking that I had all of it out of my system, only to 
discover that there was more. I felt like I had completely filled the diapers to 
capacity as the wetness surrounded me. Even after the thick diapers soaked up 
much of my pee they could still take another big wetting, though I was uncertain 
of how well they should hold up and I was afraid to piss another drop into them.
	I couldn't hold still while peeing in my diapers. I shifted around in my 
seat, trying not to draw attention, though everyone around me knew that I was 
wetting my diapers. Even harder to control were my facial expressions. Some of 
the kids around me were surprised to see that I was actually using my diapers in 
the middle of class. I had no choice at this point unless I wanted to really 
suffer. I couldn't concentrate on my studying as I had to sit in my chair 
feeling the constant dampness around me with everyone staring at me. Mr. Turner 
saw that everyone was looking at me.
	"Michael is not the teacher, *I* am!" he shouted. "Everyone look up here, 
at *me!*" A few of the kids still didn't get Mr. Turner's message, so he stopped 
his lesson again and turned his attention to me.
	"Is there something you care to share with the class, Michael?" he asked.
	"N-n-no," I answered very nervously.
	"He's got something to share, but I don't think you'd want it!" sassed a 
kid in the back of the room. The class started laughing. The kid was immediately 
given an "invitation," to put it euphemistically, to visit with Mr. Polk. Class 
resumed with no further disruptions.
	The day was only about halfway over with and I had to go around for 
several more hours with thick, wet, heavy diapers pinned around my waist before 
anyone would change them. This made walking even more uncomfortable. I was 
afraid of the movement of my body shifting the plastic pants around and causing 
them to leak, so I walked more slowly and carefully. I wanted to stop in the 
bathroom and check my pants for leaks, but I didn't dare enter.
	On the way to my art class I bumped into a kid who said, "you guys 
starting a new fad or what?"
	"What do you mean?" I asked him. At least he wasn't taking an outright 
shot at me for wearing diapers, though I was still afraid that he meant trouble, 
too.
	"There's another kid like you going around in diapers, at least that's 
what everyone's been saying about him."
	I got to thinking, "who is this other kid?"
	"He don't let his show like you do, but he's still a wuss, just like you! 
It must be a wussy fad! Diapers! Seventh graders..."
	That was the last I heard from him before his voice faded into the crowded 
hallway. People were still pointing at me and saying, "there's the diaper kid 
everyone's talking about! One of them, anyway!"
	Again I asked myself who this other kid was as I made my way to my art 
class. Another kid asked me what Billy and I planned to do after school.
	"I dunno, why?" I replied.
	"You two are gonna shit your pants together after school?"
	It was becoming more and more apparent that word had gotten around that 
Billy was also a diaper wearer. I didn't see Billy until I got to our art class 
that preceded lunch. No doubt he had heard about me coming to school in diapers. 
When I entered the class and sat down with Billy. His head was hung low. He was 
quite upset. His long-held secret was now just as widely known after several 
years as my secret-- well, for me, wearing diapers to school hadn't lasted long 
enough yet to establish itself as a secret.
	I assumed that it was because I was wearing diapers that it became known 
that Billy wore diapers, too, so I said, "I'm sorry, Billy. You probably want to 
know what happened, huh?"
	"It's not your fault," he mumbled. "Your family found out, didn't they?"
	"Yeah. Everybody knows now, and that's how they found out about you, I 
take it. Everybody knows we're best friends."
	"Yeah, but I didn't find out until third period. I thought they were 
talking about Kevin. He came to school in diapers, too."
	"So how did everyone find out about you?" I asked.
	"Kevin," he said. "He decided to tell everybody that I wear diapers 
because he had to come to school in them, so he's pissed at me now."
	Mr. Williams, the art class teacher, had a very difficult time maintaining 
order in the classroom. Everybody knew that I was in diapers, and they all knew 
that Billy wore them, too, so now that the two of us were together, this offered 
the others twice as many opportunities to laugh at Billy and I. The class 
remained raucous in spite of Mr. Williams' constant demands to keep the class 
quiet. He finally put his foot down and made everybody sit quietly, forcing us 
to all lose a day on completing our final project for the semester, even Billy 
and I, though we were the only innocent ones. I tried to protest this to Mr. 
Williams, but he was just as unsympathetic as everyone else I had dealt with 
today.
	"Seventh graders shouldn't wear diapers!" he said. "In fact, you two are 
the reason my class was disrupted! Go to the principal's office! Both of you!"
	He wrote each of us a hall pass to see Mr. Polk, a mean, vicious, 
despicable man that many feared, but often ridiculed behind his back just like 
any vice-principal with an attitude and a seething, intense dislike for kids; he 
was well-qualified for his job.
	With trepidation in our footsteps we entered the office. There was nobody 
ahead of us, so we were ordered directly into Mr. Polk's office, which purposely 
exuded a cold and uninviting atmosphere. On his wall hung his paddle. It was 
over two feet long, not counting the handle. The wood was at least half an inch 
thick and it even had holes drilled into it to reduce wind resistance and to 
intensify the sting. I had heard about Mr. Polk's dreaded paddle but had not 
seen it until today. Above the nail from which he hung the paddle, there was a 
hand-lettered sign that read THE "BOARD" OF EDUCATION. What sick and sadistic 
humor!
	Mr. Polk gave us each a couple minutes to explain the reason for being 
called to him for discipline, though he didn't really listen to us.
	"We didn't do anything!" I defended.
	"Aw, come on!" Mr. Polk groaned, slamming his fist on his desk. His thick 
eyebrows accentuated his stern face.
	"Mr. Williams wrote on your hall passes that you were disrupting class!"
	"Everybody was laughing at us for wearing...uh...wearing..."
	"I can see that one of you has diapers on! Is that what happened?"
	"Yes," I said, starting to cry. "He made the whole class miss a
	day to work on our assignment and then I told him we didn't do anything, 
and then he yelled at us for disrupting his class, and said that seventh graders 
don't wear diapers and then he sent us down to the principal!"
	"They don't!" Mr. Polk said firmly. "Diapers are for babies!"
	"I uh, I have...to wear...them," Billy uttered very nervously. "A-a-ask 
the n-n-nur-rse!"
	"Me too!" I shot out. "I have to wear them! And I'm not...a baby."
	"A tad excessive, hmm?" Mr. Polk said as he lifted my shirt and took a 
closer look at the white cloth bunched up all around my waist.
	I couldn't speak. Billy was equally inhibited as Mr. Polk stared into our 
eyes and evoked much intimidation. His breath smelled unspeakably atrocious. As 
always, he always took the teacher's side.
	"If Mr. Williams feels that you were disrupting his class, then you 
probably were! I can't stand the thought of boys your age still in diapers!"
	"But some of us have to wear them!" Billy spoke up in defense, but Mr. 
Polk ignored him and ordered each of us to drop our pants and bend over. What 
would he think when he saw my bulging butt sticking in his face? He looked over 
my diapers and all the pins that were holding it up.
	"Get those diapers down and show me some skin!" he commanded me angrily 
and impatiently. He stood behind me and watched as I pulled off my plastic pants 
and unfastened each diaper pin and let the thick, wet set of diapers fall 
loosely to the floor.
	"How pathetic!" Mr. Polk groaned when he looked at down my wet, yellow- 
stained diapers.
	Billy was wearing his diaper pants which were a lot easier to remove. Just 
one firm tug on the waistband and his bottom, too, was bared for Mr. Polk to 
paddle. Billy's underpants were also wet with urine. The odor permeated the air 
in the small, cramped office. My heart was beating so fast that I nearly 
fainted. I was light-headed, seeing stars and hyperventilating. I couldn't stand 
to get another spanking on top of the one I got from dad last night. My skin was 
still tender and red and Mr. Polk was only going to make it worse. It was going 
to really, really hurt.
	Mr. Polk had his board ready to go, but he didn't start in on us right 
away. Instead he made us wait an agonizing two minutes. My hands were shaking 
and sweating, as were Billy's as we gripped onto the edge of the desk and 
awaited the torture. The edge of the desk showed signs of wear from several 
other nervous hands that had grasped it over the years. Neither of us could keep 
a grip with our trembling hands, though Mr. Polk kept telling Billy and I not to 
let go of it.
	He didn't let us know who he was going to spank first. He just swung his 
paddle back and then slammed it down on...me! "OWWWW!" I yelped as that first 
swat came a sharp, loud, stinging WHAP! Then came another, and another! I 
started bawling as he continued to slap that damn torture stick over my behind! 
It especially hurt to get such a severe swatting on top of dad's recent belt 
job.
	When he finally stopped spanking me I started to reach for my diaper pins 
that had fallen off the desk from the vibrations that traveled through my body 
from the paddle. Mr. Polk then grabbed my wrist and told me to stay bent over 
until he said I could move. I quivered helplessly with tears streaming down my 
face. I wanted to wipe them off of my cheeks but I didn't dare move my hands. I 
continued to cry as I felt the pain radiating from my rear end.
	Now Billy was getting his. I felt the vibrations thumping through the desk 
as each loud swat echoed through the small room along with Billy's strained 
wailing. I couldn't stand to see how distressed the look on his face must have 
been, but I could see though my teary eyes in my peripheral vision that he was 
suffering through an excruciating punishment. Meanwhile, Mr. Polk seemed to 
derive some personal gratification as he continued whacking away at poor Billy 
and burning up his bum. Mr. Polk then stopped beating Billy and hung his paddle 
and told us, "now you boys get your britches back on and get the hell out of 
here! I've got more butts to paddle!" He then left his office and left Billy and 
I in there to get dressed again.
	I tried to get my diapers pinned back on the way mom had done them, but I 
had trouble getting them to look so that I didn't appear to have removed them 
when Katie would change me after school. After Billy got his pants up he helped 
me get my diapers on. He had me sit on the floor and pull the soaked fabric back 
into my crotch. He did a pretty good job of re-securing the pins tightly, 
hopefully so that Katie wouldn't notice that they had been tampered with.
	Just as Billy was working on the last pin the door had swung open. Mr. 
Polk was ready to torture his next victim, who was a seemingly innocent boy, 
already visibly perturbed by what he expected Mr. Polk to do to him. The boy 
looked at us, probably not expecting to see me getting diapers put on.
	"Hurry it up, guys!" Mr. Polk snapped at us. "You're already tardy for 
returning to class!" He threw the shaking, sobbing boy down in the chair. The 
kid looked at me silently as I pulled my plastic pants on and then my oversized 
jeans. We then fled from the office and returned to our drawing class. On our 
way out we heard the door to Mr. Polk's office slam very loudly behind us.
	Billy and I walked back to class, each of us tightly clutching onto our 
hall passes. I was still feeling quite distraught over Mr. Polk's terribly 
abusive ways of treating kids. I knew I'd feel his paddle job for quite awhile. 
I especially hated the way he used the word "hell" on us and his blatantly 
sadistic remark on "having more butts to paddle." My face was still covered with 
tears and my eyes were still red and swollen, to say nothing of my behind.
	It wasn't easy to get through the lunch period as virtually everyone in 
the entire school knew that Billy and I were diapers. I waited in the lunch 
getting more teasing and ridicule by everyone who saw me. I hoped that they 
would eventually shut up and leave me alone if I didn't say anything back to 
them, but I was vulnerable and my emotions were fragile. I recalled a story 
about one kid who dealt with his peers by telling them that he wore diapers and 
he didn't care what they thought. He didn't react to their comments and they 
left him alone. I hoped to someday be brave enough to tell people that this is 
how I am and they can take it or leave it, but on this first day of coming to 
school in diapers I wasn't ready to defend myself so boldly.
	Billy returned from doing his diaper change at about the same time I got 
out of the lunch line and sat down. I looked across the cafeteria and saw Kevin 
sitting at a table by himself.
	"There's your brother," I pointed out to Billy.
	"He's by himself. He's not hanging around with those druggie-freak 
weirdos.
	Kevin also spotted us sitting nearby, so he got up and carried his lunch 
over to our table and sat down. I could hear his diapers crinkle as he walked 
and I could see that his pants were fitting rather tightly with a subtle, yet 
detectable bulge.
	"So, how's your day?" Billy asked Kevin.
	"I lost all my friends, thanks to you! They don't want to hang around me 
anymore, because I'm wearing..."
	"They weren't good friends, anyway, Kevin," Billy said.
	"They were, too!"
	"You don't belong with guys like that. Face it, Kevin, you were just a 
wannabe with those guys."
	For the next five minutes I sat there and listened to Billy and Kevin 
argue over Kevin's loss of his stoner friends. Suddenly, Kevin's former friends 
showed up. They harassed Kevin and pointed out his diaper, calling him a baby 
and threatening to beat him up if they ever caught him alone. One of them tried 
to even yank Kevin's pants down, but they fit too tightly over his diapers to 
slide off easily. The boys then took off after they each stole a french fry off 
of Kevin's lunch tray.
	"See what you started!" Kevin accused his brother. "I oughta burn your 
stories for this! Yours too, Michael. You're the wannabe around here!"
	How was I brought into this, I wondered. I said, "excuse me?"
	"You guys and your damn stories! Ahh, I can't talk about it! I'm outta 
here!"
	Kevin suddenly disappeared and we never saw him again for the rest of the 
lunch period. Just after he left, Katie and Vicki showed up.
	"So how's our diaper boy doing today?"
	"Shut up, Katie!" I snapped.
	"Aww, iz dem makins fun of yoo?" she taunted. "Poor baby!"
	"Katie, not here!"
	"Duz wittle baby need his diapee changed?" Vicki mocked me.
	"Stop it!" I demanded.
	"We'd better lay off, Vickie, the baby's getting cranky!"
	"STOP CALLING ME A BABY!" I shouted. Just about everyone heard me and 
looked over towards me. My outburst got the attention of the three girls, Judy, 
Sarah, and Rhonda, who trotted over to our table to find out what was going on.
	"I see you have girlfriends, Michael," Katie said as they approached.
	"They're not my girlfriends," I said.
	"Hi, we came to see Michael!" one of the girls said.
	"Yeah, we think he's cute!"
	"Woohoo, Michael!" Katie said. "They like you!"
	"No they don't," I said, trying to finish my lunch, which had gotten too 
cold to be palatable.
	"Don't you think he looks cute in diapers?"
	"We want to come over and change you, little boy!"
	"I already do," Katie said. "I'm his big sister!"
	"We don't have any little brothers to take care of," one of the girls 
said.
	I had about all I could stand of this immensely embarrassing ordeal. I 
left my lunch tray on the table, still half-uneaten, got up and pushed my way 
out of the huddle. Billy followed behind, carrying with him his lunch that he 
hadn't yet finished.
	I walked to the back of the school building, where we weren't supposed to 
go, but I didn't care. I had to get away from my sister and those other girls 
before they drove me crazy. The constant teasing and tormenting was wearing on 
my nerves. Billy showed up a few minutes later.
	"I can't handle this, Billy," I said to him as I sat down next to the 
wall. "I can't come to school in diapers!"
	"Everybody knows it now," Billy said, "and even if you do stop wearing 
them, they'll all remember and they'll constantly remind you about it, so it's 
too late! Now you know why I didn't want anyone to know I wear them!"
	"We're ruined, Billy!" I exclaimed.
	"We weren't exactly all that popular to begin with," he conceded. "Just 
don't let anyone see that it bothers you, like that one kid we read about. 
Everybody leaves him alone."
	"It's not that easy, Billy," I said, shaking my head. We talked about my 
concerns over the remainder of the lunch period before heading back to class, 
each of us getting laughed at and pointed at. All along I kept thinking of what 
Billy advised me to do: don't let anyone see that it bothers me.
	After lunch came my social studies class. It was a dull class, so I never 
paid much attention to the lesson and often had my mind focused on other 
matters. Today all I could think about were my wet diapers that were making my 
crotch and my balls itch. Of course my bulging pants drew just as much attention 
from the other students as they had done in my other classes, but I remained 
stoic and didn't acknowledge that they were there. It still hurt me inside, no 
doubt.
	By the time I got to my last class, which was math, I could smell the 
urine's odor in my pants. As I could detect it, the other kids could probably 
also sense the offensive odor. At least this drew their attention away from me. 
They didn't want anything to do with a kid in smelly diapers.
	The girl in front of me winced as she returned to her seat after doing an 
exercise on the board. She gave me an odd look.
	When it became my turn to do an exercise on the board I became nervous, 
which is how I would have felt anyway by being in front of everyone. My butt 
faced everyone as I worked the problem out. What I didn't count on, though, was 
that there was a leak from the plastic pants that produced a small, though 
conspicuous wet spot on my jeans towards the bottom of my butt.
	When one kid said, "Hey Michael! What's that wet spot?" I just froze. I 
dropped the chalk on the floor. As I bent over to retrieve it, more of the 
wetness in my crotch was exhibited to the rest of the class. Everyone was 
laughing. I was on the verge of breaking into tears. "Don't let them see that it 
bothers me!" I thought over and over as if it were some sort of mantra.
	I was so glad to hear that last bell ring. This had to have been the 
longest, most grueling day I've ever endured at school. It still wasn't over 
with yet as I had to ride home on the bus with the same kids who had been 
teasing me all day. It was nice to finally be on my way home. At least I could 
enjoy a few hours of solitude before having to go through it all over again 
tomorrow.

MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: PART 18
---------------------------------

	Right as I got home Katie came up to me and ordered me to drop my pants 
for my diaper change. When she pulled down my plastic pants she noted that the 
pins were not in my diapers as neatly as mom would have put them in. As she took 
them out, she reproached me and said, "You took your diapers off today, didn't 
you?"
	"Well...yes," I said. "But it wasn't--"
	"You knew not to take them off!" she said as she took the pins out of my 
diapers.
	"I had to!"
	"Really? And why?"
	I was too embarrassed and ashamed to tell her that I had gotten a spanking 
from Mr. Polk today. I stood there and hemmed and hawed while Katie continued to 
remove the pins."
	"Well, what's your excuse, Michael? Got tired of everyone laughing at 
you?"
	"Well yes, but I mean...it's not that...I--"
	SMACK!
	Katie slapped her hand down on my sensitive bare skin.
	"That's no excuse, Michael! You have no excuse for taking them off!"
	"No, Katie! I can explain! I--"
	SMACK!
	Katie spanked me several times and added more soreness to Mr. Polk's 
spanking, which in turn went on top of dad's spanking. It was too late to try 
explaining to her why I took my diapers off, and the pain was too much for me to 
talk.
	Katie then wiped my crotch and my bottom cry, rubbing over my very 
sensitive skin. She commented that my entire butt was red, but she didn't seem 
to care how it got that way, though she did apply plenty of lotion to heal the 
rash. She then prepared four of those thick diapers on the floor and slid them 
underneath me. I looked at the high stack of cotton fabric and anticipated 
having the set of diapers tightly wrapped around me and heavily pinned up, not 
to be changed until later this evening, perhaps not until tomorrow morning. And 
it was all I would be wearing (with my shirt). Katie folded up my pants and put 
them away until the next day.
	The minute that mom came home Katie told her that I took my diapers off in 
school today.
	"I can explain, mom!" I said.
	"You'd better have a good reason," mom looked at me.
	"Mr. Polk...(sniff)...he...s-s-spanked me today!"
	I started crying as this was the most humiliating and shame-inducing 
experience I ever encountered at school, even more degrading than getting made 
fun of by dozens, perhaps hundreds of classmates.
	"Why did he spank you?"
	"Because...me and Billy were sent to his office because Mr. Williams 
thought we were disrupting his class for wearing diapers. He made me take them 
off!"
	"Oh, I see."
	"I can't go back to school tomorrow, mom. Everyone was making fun of me!"
	"You should have realized this before you asked for it," my mom said.
	"I didn't ask to go to school in diapers! Just at home!"
	"We've already discussed it, Michael! You are going to school in diapers! 
Besides, how would those pants ever fit you unless you wore diapers underneath 
them?"
	"Can I get my old pants back?"
	"No, Michael, no! End of discussion!"
	After dad was home and we had eaten dinner dad replaced the doorknob that 
he broke on the bathroom door. As promised, he got one that used a key lock. Dad 
also installed one of those devices that closes a door automatically so that 
nobody would accidentally leave it open. When he was finished he ceremoniously 
handed mom and Katie each a key and kept one for himself. Of course I was the 
lone non-recipient of a key to the bathroom.
	"Michael is not to have a key to the bathroom, ever!" dad stated 
emphatically as he stood in front of the bathroom door. "That's why the lock is 
there in the first place!" He then closed the bathroom door and had everyone 
test out their keys.
	"You'll have to let Michael in the bathroom every morning so he can brush 
his teeth, and you'll have to supervise him," mom said. "The same goes for his 
baths."
	"I'd better not catch you snooping through my stuff if you need my key, 
Michael!" Katie warned. I'll have it on me all the time anyway."
	"According to Michael's diaper stories, I don't think you'll need to worry 
about him trying to get your key," mom commented. "But just in case he changes 
his mind about all this, I'd make sure he never gets it!"
	After mom and Katie tested their keys, the bathroom door was shut one 
final time, making the toilet hereafter completely inaccessible to me. Twice 
during the course of the evening Katie got up and made a point of her going to 
the bathroom. "You don't have a ke-ey! You don't have a ke- ey! You're not gon-
na get one! You're gon-na get one! You have to wear dia-pers! You have to wear 
dia-pers!" After she exited the bathroom she continued with her taunting even 
though I kept telling her to shut up.
	"You'd better be nice, Michael!" she warned. "I don't have to change you 
if I don't feel like it, and you smell like you need a change, so you'd better 
be good to me unless you want to sleep in your poopy diapers all night!"
	In spite of Katie's warning, she did proceed to change me. I left her a 
big mess, and she was repulsed by its odor and having to handle my soiled 
diapers after she got them off. It gave me some satisfaction to gross out my 
sister with my messy diapers.
	The next several days at school were just as rough as the first day I went 
there in diapers. As much as I did to show no reaction or response to people 
teasing me, a lot of them were persistent and they would not stop. As if I 
didn't have enough to deal with already, the following week was all of our final 
exams. I managed to pass them, though I did poorly on a couple of them. The 
stress I was going through at school made it harder to study at home. Each day I 
came home from school in a wet diaper, though I managed to avoid having bowel 
movements until I got home. Often times, within an hour of my after-school 
diaper change I would poop in my diapers and I would have to wait until my next 
diaper change before bedtime, which was usually four to five hours. One night 
Katie and I got into a spat and Katie refused to change me. Mom agreed that I 
was at fault for instigating the argument, so she too, left me to wear stinky, 
wet diapers until the next morning, almost the next afternoon as it was on a 
Saturday. It was the first day of the second semester as we returned to school 
on the following Monday. All of my classes were full-year classes, so nothing 
changed as far as my class schedule goes upon returning to school that day, or 
at least that's what I thought. After Billy and I were seated in Mr. William's 
class we were immediately sent back to the principal's office.
	"What did we do this time?" I asked.
	"Just go down there," he said. "I don't want you boys in my class any 
more."
	"What do you mean?"
	"It means that you are both being switched to a different class!"
	Nervously, Billy and I went back into the office, expecting Mr. Polk to 
abuse us again with his paddle for whatever reason we had been called in. 
Instead, we were called into Mr. Swain's office. He was the principal, so this 
had to have been really serious. I feared the worst.
	Luckily, Mr. Swain had no intentions of spanking us, but he did inform us 
of a change in our class schedules. He explained that Mr. Williams did not want 
us in his class anymore. When I asked whether or not a teacher could do this, 
Mr. Swain said, "normally, no, however we do take special cases into 
consideration, such as this one, and if a teacher has a good reason to move you 
out of his class, he may do so provided that another class of the same subject 
is available and that the instructor of the proposed substituted class agrees to 
take the student in question. In this case, there were no other classes 
available, but since it is an elective class, you may earn credit in a different 
class altogether. Unfortunately, you would not have the knowledge and 
preparation necessary for most other classes if you were to join them in mid-
term. This left us with only one choice that would still work as it requires no 
knowledge of previously-learned material."
	By this process of elimination, it turned out that the only available 
class was P.E. This meant, of course, that Billy and I would have to undress in 
front of everyone else, and what could possibly be more embarrassing than to be 
wearing diapers in the locker room? I couldn't go through with this. I wanted to 
ask Mr. Swain if we had to start going to P.E., but I was too embarrassed to 
tell him what my concerns were. He told us to report to the gym and speak to Mr. 
Lane, the assistant coach so that he could issue us our gym clothes. That was 
the end of the discussion as Mr. Swain wrote us our hall passes, which only gave 
us five minutes to get to the gym. Otherwise, we would be marked absent for the 
class.
	Reluctantly, we entered into the gymnasium, where both the boys and girls 
were playing separate games of basketball at each end of the court. Neither of 
us even knew who to look for, so we went to the corner of the gym and stood 
until one of the two coaches blew his whistle.
	One of them saw us standing in the corner and asked us what we needed.
	"We got moved into your class," I said as I nervously handed him my hall 
pass.
	"Okay, and...," he said and paused, taking Billy's hall pass.
	"We need to get our clothes," Billy spoke up.
	"Follow me, boys" said the fairly young, tall man in gray sweat pants as 
he led us into the locker room. As we walked back to the storage room he asked 
us what our sizes were. I didn't mind telling him my shirt size, but I didn't 
like having to ask for an extra large-size pair of gym shorts when a medium pair 
would have normally fit my semi- slender body. Billy, as he was much smaller, 
could fit into a small-size pair but needed a medium to accommodate his 
underpants. We were each issued two towels and a combination lock with their 
respective combinations. He pointed out where our two assigned lockers were 
located and told us to get dressed down and go out to the gym.
	For two minutes I sat still on the bench, breathing the sweat-laden air, 
still clutching onto my newly-issued gym clothes. I got as far as opening the 
combination lock, but that was it. Billy was no more ready than I was to strip 
down.
	"I can't go through with this," I said, sighing heavily.
	"I can't either," Billy said. "We can't go out there, not since everyone 
already knows we wear diapers."
	"Better hurry it up, boys!" came the voice of Mr. Lane from the doorway.
	Reluctantly, I began removing my clothes. I started with changing my 
shirt, which was easy enough. I was hesitant to remove my pants, even though 
Billy and I were the only ones in the locker room. As I finally forced myself to 
remove my pants, I thought of how much worse this would be when several other 
boys would also be sharing the same bench, each of them able to see me in my 
diapers.
	I shakily stepped into my shorts and pulled them up over my diapers. The 
shorts were big and loose, even over my bulging thick diapers. My skinny match 
stick legs left plenty of room in the leg openings of the shorts. My white socks 
went up over my calves, leaving my bony knee and my thighs bare. I looked like a 
dork. Billy didn't look much better, either.
	My heart was racing as I approached the doorway that led out to the gym. 
While we stood there waiting for the right time to make our grand entrance the 
girls class was sent running laps around the gym. By comparison, many of them 
had on tighter shorts that conformed to the contours of their rounded butts and 
most of them wore ankle-length socks or no socks at all. A lot of them looked at 
us as they jogged by with their breasts bouncing. Once there was a break in the 
traffic we cut through and joined the boy's class.
	Mr. Burns was the head coach. He blew his whistle to stop the game in 
progress and briefly introduced us to his class. Billy and I were received with 
many disparaging remarks from the other boys as they all knew that we wore 
diapers.
	"Hey, it's the diaper boys!" shouted one kid.
	"Howzitgoin', Baby Butt?" spoke another one, pointing to me.
	"Aren't those shorts just a little big?"
	Soon the comments became less distinguishable as the entire class started 
laughing at Billy and me. Mr. Burns started blowing his whistle furiously to get 
everyone to settle down. Because the class was being unruly, he added two extra 
laps to the six laps he normally assigned everyone to run. Billy and I were 
blamed for being given the extra two laps as we were the ones who caused the 
ruckus. The girls were just finishing up their last few laps as our class merged 
with them. Billy and I were trailing behind as we were not up to running like 
everyone else and that neither of us was very athletic to begin with. It was 
harder for me to run as fast with such enormous diapers on. My plastic pants 
ruffled and crinkled loudly with each stride. My shorts started sliding down and 
exposing my diapers, much to the amusement of two girls who came up behind us on 
their last lap before heading for the locker room. "How cute! He's in a diaper!" 
she commented as she passed by. The other boys started overtaking us on their 
subsequent laps, many of them laughing as I was constantly pulling up on my 
shorts, making jokes about it as they went by.
	Billy and I finished last, as we expected to do. We were each too tired to 
run and walked the last lap and entered the locker room huffing and puffing in 
unison. We went down our row to our lockers on the very end, passing by several 
other boys in various stages of dress, some even having returned from the 
shower.
	Billy and I were the only ones still dressed, and neither of us wanted to 
take our clothes off and show everyone what kind of underpants we wore. I hoped 
to see someone else wearing diapers, but all I saw were other boys wearing white 
briefs; one was even wearing ShowToons, a scrawny kid who could still fit into 
them and apparently chose to wear them.
	I thought about John, the kid I e-mailed who told me that he wore diapers 
to school and undressed in front of his classmates without any care or concern 
towards what others thought about him. I envisioned what it would look like to 
see someone putting on a diaper in front of everyone else. I could never do it 
and be so confident. Right now I was in the same situation as John, except that 
I wasn't so open to let everyone see me in them.
	The other kid saw me sitting hesitantly, partly because I was daydreaming 
about John and wondering how he could possibly sit among other boys and letting 
them see how he wore (and used) his underpants. The boy next to me, knowing that 
I was new to the class, said, "dude, like, you have to take your clothes off and 
shower." He didn't say anything about the obvious bulge of my diaper in my 
shorts, but a couple of other boys were quick to make remarks about Billy and I.
	"What's the matter, don't want anyone to see your DIAPERS?" said one kid 
about halfway down the row.
	"They don't want anyone to see their willies!"
	"They probably need their didies changes and their mommies aren't here!"
	I couldn't get undressed at that point. I just stood there with my gym 
clothes still on. Billy felt just as inhibited. I knew I couldn't stand there 
all day and I would eventually have to change my clothes. We just looked at each 
other and read each others' shared thoughts: They're laughing at us!
	Most of the other boys had gotten dressed and were ready to go while Billy 
and I were still standing there by the lockers without having even taken our 
shirts off yet. While some were standing by the door waiting for the bell to 
ring, many others had gathered at the opposite end of the row of lockers and 
were staring at us, waiting to see us undress and show them our diapers. The 
bell then rang and the crowd fled out the door to go to lunch.
	We finally started undressing. Billy was down to his underpants and then 
had stripped them off. As I expected, the front and the crotch were yellow with 
urine. I had everything off except for the big, billowing diapers that 
surrounded my waist. I knew it would take forever to remove all the pins and 
take off the diapers. Putting them back on would take just as long and I could 
never get it back on without looking like it had been "tampered" with. At this 
point I didn't know if Mom even knew I had been transferred to P.E. in the first 
place!
	Mr. Burns suddenly appeared at the end of the row, idly twirling his 
whistle by its string.
	"Aren't you boys done? It's lunch time!" he hollered. "Get your butts in 
that shower and get moving!"
	Billy had his towel around him as he walked to the shower. I decided to 
leave my diapers on and take my shower while wearing them. It was already five 
minutes into lunch and Mr. Burns was getting impatient. I felt too embarrassed 
to let Mr. Burns see me wearing diapers so I held my towel around my waist as I 
walked to the shower. I stood under the stream of water just long enough to get 
my body wet, along with the exterior of my diapers, though the plastic pants 
repelled much of the water and kept the diapers themselves from getting wet. I 
hurried back to my locker and joined Billy as we hurriedly put our clothes back 
on. While Billy intended to change into a clean pair of underpants in the 
bathroom at the beginning of lunch he ended up changing in the locker room. He 
pulled out of his book bag a clean, fresh pair of underpants and put them on. He 
stuffed the wet pair in a large, resealable plastic bag and stuffed it back into 
his book bag.
	 "This is what I have to do every day before I go to lunch," he said.
	 We were finally dressed and ready to go. Billy quickly ran to the sink to 
wash his hands before we headed towards the door, where Mr. Burns had been 
impatiently waiting. He was scowling at us as we hustled out of the locker room. 
On our way out he said, "you boys can't dawdle like this every day! I need to go 
to lunch, too!"
	By the time we got to the cafeteria it was already fifteen minutes into 
lunch. Billy sat down at our table and started eating while I got my lunch from 
the kitchen. The lunch line was much shorter than usual as most of the kids had 
already been through it. While I was standing there watching the cooks glop my 
food onto my tray three girls had gotten in line behind me and they were 
giggling. I figured that they were laughing about my diapers, but it was more 
than that.
	"Look! He wet his pants!" the girl snickered.
	"Aww, his didee leaked! Maybe he should switch to Huggies!"
	One of the girls then stepped around and stood in front of me. She 
chortled briefly and asked me, "what brand of diapers do you wear?"
	She started cackling along with her other two friends as she went back to 
them.
	"Your butt's wet, you know that?" said another one of the girls. I ignored 
her as the third girl repeated the remark. By then I had paid the cashier and 
walked away from the girls with my tray. I couldn't figure out why they were 
saying I looked like I had wet my pants when I hadn't even used my diapers yet. 
I then figured out that there was still some water on my plastic pants from the 
shower and that it had soaked into my pants, causing me to look like I had wet 
in them or that my diapers were leaking. I did have to pee and I ended up 
wetting my diapers anyway while sitting at the lunch table.
	I stayed in my wet diapers through two more class periods and a bus ride 
home before Katie changed me into some dry diapers. It felt so good to be home 
again, away from all the other kids who teased me all day about wearing diapers. 
If only I didn't have to go back to school again would this be so much better.

MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: PART 19
---------------------------------

	The next day at school was just as rough. The day was off to a hectic 
start as I woke up in poopy diapers that morning and it took mom awhile to clean 
me up. While mom was changing me I asked her if she knew that I was moved out of 
art class and into P.E.
	"Yes," she said. "The school called me at work and told me and they just 
needed my consent to transfer you."
	"So why did you do it? Those kids are making fun of me!"
	"Because I think you need the exercise, Michael. If you're stuck at home 
in diapers all day you'll never get any physical activity. I also think you'll 
further realize what you've gotten yourself into when you have to undress in 
front of the other boys. You're probably the only one in diapers!"
	"Billy's in my class, too; he got transferred."
	"Really? Then you won't feel alone."
	 That was the last thing mom said before she drew the diapers up into my 
crotch and pinned up the sides. I was rushed off to school to catch the bus. 
Everybody on the bus knew I was wearing diapers now. I used to take a seat 
towards the back of the bus, and nobody ever sat right behind the driver unless 
necessary because this looked wimpy, like wanting to sit as close to the 
teacher's desk as possible. Now I took the empty seat right behind the driver as 
the kids wouldn't be as brutal to me there where the driver could yell at them 
if they became too unruly.
	 It seemed like I was getting even more attention from my other classmates 
as virtually everyone in the entire school knew that I wore diapers and they 
were making such a big deal out of it. Most of them made a small remark as I 
passed by, though there were a few persistent ones who followed me as I walked 
through the hall. While many of the students only saw the bulge in my pants, 
those who were in my P.E. class were afforded the extra opportunity to see the 
diapers themselves.
	I sat through each class feeling the soft padding beneath me, reminding me 
of its presence with each move that I made. I counted down the hours and the 
minutes that remained before I would be in the locker room exposing my diapered 
bum to those lucky enough to get to see it. When fifth period arrived I felt 
very nervous and apprehensive as I dreaded P.E. more than any other class.
	I walked into the locker room and was greeted with the aroma of
	perspiration. I approached the row of lockers and walked past several 
other boys who were already undressing. Billy was already there, standing 
hesitantly, fearful of exposing his diaper pants. He finally resorted to 
wrapping his towel around him while he removed his pants, though this only drew 
attention as the other boys commented on him being such a "wussy". I ended up 
being a wussy, too, trying all I could to avoid letting my diapers show. The kid 
next to me yanked the towel away from me, leaving me standing there in just my 
big, bulging diapers! Everyone was looking and laughing at me wearing 
"underwear" that was comparatively much thicker than theirs. I ignored them as 
much as I could and I quickly pulled my shorts on. My face was flush with 
embarrassment.
	Not only was P.E. an unpleasant class for Billy and I because we were 
forced to undress and expose our diapers to everyone, but also because neither 
Billy nor I was very athletic. There were a few activities Billy and I didn't 
mind doing, we just sucked at doing them. Aside from us being diaper wearers, we 
still just looked like a couple of geeky kids. My oversized shorts, my bulging 
diapers, skinny legs, and knee-high white socks made me quite a spectacle.
	Throughout the entire P.E. class we were teased for wearing diapers, 
though Mr. Lane did come to our defense and tell the others to lay off. A couple 
of persistent individuals made a couple attempts (at least one successful one) 
to yank my shorts down. The girls class was nearby, all of them seated on the 
floor before their instructor, all of them looking at me as the incident 
occurred. For this, the offending boys were sent to run laps around the gym for 
the remainder of the class. The rest of us continued to do various activities. 
The hardest activity for me was the jump-roping as my big, loose shorts kept 
sailing southward as I kept jumping up and down. There was no concern, however, 
that my tightly- pinned diapers would go anywhere. By then I had wet in them a 
couple times and I felt the soaked materials moving about my crotch along with 
my jumping.
	In spite of getting picked on for the rest of the period Billy and I 
survived another day of gym class, at least up to where we were sent back into 
the locker room. Once again Billy and I were in the same situation we were in 
yesterday, standing amid several undressing boys, afraid to undress ourselves. 
The same obnoxious kid who yanked my towel away from me told me that I needed my 
mommy to help dress me. I was quickly getting quite annoyed at him, but he was 
so belligerent and easily provoked, so I had little choice but to ignore him.
	Just as Billy and I had done yesterday we waited until much of the class 
had gotten dressed and left before we dressed down ourselves. By then Mr. Burns 
confronted us at the end of the row.
	"What did I tell you guys about dawdling? Why don't you two just skip the 
shower and get your britches back on so I don't have to wait through half of my 
lunch for you!"
	Mr. Burns waited impatiently as he leaned against the lockers while Billy 
and I got ourselves dressed. He followed right behind us as we walked out of the 
locker room on our way to the cafeteria. During lunch Billy and I talked about 
his brother Kevin. I brought up the subject because I knew that Kevin was in 
P.E. class too, and I asked Billy how Kevin was handling it.
	"He isn't," Billy said as he bit into his sandwich.
	"He isn't what? He's not handling it, like us?"
	"He isn't in school anymore."
	"What happened?" I asked curiously.
	"The day he came to school in diapers he walked off the school grounds and 
was caught and they expelled him. He was getting into too much trouble anyway."
	"So where is he now?"
	"At home, in diapers. My Mom's staying home to watch over him. He can't 
leave the house because my Mom won't let him wear his pants, so he'll probably 
stay in diapers from now on and through the whole summer. He'll have to take 
ninth grade over again. Hopefully it'll do him some good."
	At least Kevin was lucky enough that he wasn't subjected to daily teasing 
and ridicule from his classmates as I was. He was especially lucky not to be in 
his P.E. class anymore. I dreaded going to the class, and not just because my 
diapers were more vulnerable to exposure while wearing loose gym shorts, but 
also because this was where my athletic deficiencies became readily apparent.
	Every Friday until the weather got warm enough to return outdoors we were 
to spend the class period either playing basketball or volleyball, alternating 
the games every other week. The girls' class played opposite of us and they got 
volleyball first this week. Next week we would get volleyball and the girls 
would play basketball.
	I wished we could have gotten to play volleyball since I felt I could 
handle this game better and it seemed less aggressive to me than basketball. I 
knew how the game was played, more or less, but I had never actually played 
basketball, not even a casual game of one-on-one in the driveway. Likewise, 
Billy's experience with shooting hoops was virtually nil. We just were not into 
sports, and it was evident to the team captains who selected players out of the 
class to make up their teams. Billy was chosen next to last for his team and I 
was left standing alone to join the opposite team.
	To make matters worse, I wound up on the "skins" team, meaning that we 
were to remove our shirts so that we could identify our fellow team mates. I 
felt even more uncomfortable running around the gym with only a large pair of 
shorts and my diapers underneath it. As I ran throughout the basketball court, 
getting knocked around by the other kids, more or less ignored as the ball was 
passed around me, I was constantly pulling up on my shorts as they kept sagging 
down and exposing my diapers underneath. I felt that I was only getting in the 
way of the other kids and I really didn't know what I was supposed to do. I held 
the ball for about two seconds before a kid from the other team effortlessly 
seized it from my hands. I wasn't even involved in the game after awhile and 
neither was Billy, so we found ourselves off to the side of the court standing 
around. I even put my shirt back on.
	Mr. Burns didn't like our lack of participation and he had already 
developed a dislike for us as we kept holding him up at lunch time. He blew his 
loud whistle and stopped the game. He then walked over towards us.
	"Why aren't you boys playing?" he shouted sternly, his voice echoing 
throughout the gymnasium. You're both standing there with your thumbs up your 
butts!"
	"I'd like to know how he can stick his thumb up his butt with diapers on!" 
commented one kid. Mr. Burns appeared to ignore the remark. During the silence 
that we were given to answer to Mr. Burns there were sporadic comments shouted 
from the other boys. Mr. Burns then stood right in front of us. He maintained a 
stance like that of a drill sergeant. "What's the problem?" he hollered.
	"Uh, I can't play basketball very good," I said sheepishly.
	"Me...me neither," Billy murmured. A round of laughter followed. "Do you 
know how to play volleyball?" he asked me.
	"Yeah, kind of, I think," I uttered nervously. Billy nodded in agreement.
	"Go follow Mr. Lane," Mr. Burns said. "He'll escort you to the girls' 
class where they're playing volleyball."
	Mr. Burns then blew his whistle and resumed the basketball game. Mr. Lane 
led us away from the boys' class and towards the auxiliary gym, as it was 
called, where the girls' class had been playing volleyball. He briefly explained 
to the girls' instructor what was going on and left us with Mrs. Hendricks, the 
girls' P.E. instructor. She told each of us to pick one side of the net and join 
the girls who were already in the middle of a game.
	Being the only two boys in the entire room drew a lot of attention from 
the other girls, but being that they all knew we both had diapers on made our 
presence even more conspicuous. Every one of them was looking at us, wondering 
why we had been temporarily (I hoped) placed in their class. The game went on, 
but not without being surrounded by a lot of giggling and name-calling, mostly 
"Baby Butt."
	Unlike the basketball game, Billy and I were able to participate better in 
volleyball since it was easier for us. I wouldn't have minded playing volleyball 
except that I was surrounded by girls all wanting to take a peak at my diapers. 
One even went so far as to yank my shorts down and let my shorts drop to my 
ankles. I was left standing there with my diapers fully exposed to the girls' 
P.E. class! The game stopped and all the girls were pointing at me and laughing. 
I was stunned and I didn't even pull my shorts up right away, allowing a few 
more seconds of exposure to the amused girls. As I pulled my shorts up Mrs. 
Hendricks blew her whistle and then chewed out the class for the incident. She 
wanted to know who did it, but of course nobody would step forward to confess.
	"If I see it again, you'll all run laps for the rest of next week!" Mrs. 
Hendricks warned the class. She then blew the whistle and resumed the volleyball 
game. The girls around me still gave me a lot of attention for wearing diapers. 
One looked at me and asked me if I actually used them. I didn't know whether or 
not to answer her, and by the time I had thought about it she had already darted 
off to the other side of the court to return the shot. Another girl jokingly 
suggested that I just take my shorts off because they didn't fit anyway and were 
distracting me from the game. She mentioned this because I missed the ball from 
my hands on my waistband instead of poised in the air and ready to strike it 
back over the net. I watched the ball sail by my head and bounce to the floor. 
My inattentiveness to the game gave the opposing team the winning fifteenth 
point. All the girls looked at me scornfully for making their team lose. Mrs. 
Hendricks had us play one more game, and our team won it this time, though was 
called at nine points as the class period was ready to end. After running a lap 
around the auxiliary gym we were sent back to the locker room. Of course Billy 
and I split off from the stampede of girls as we headed to the boys' lockers. 
The boys' class was still out running their laps around the gym, so we were 
stuck in the locker room ahead of the rest of the class, afraid to undress as we 
knew everyone would soon come charging in.
	Mr. Burns wasn't going to wait on Billy and me today, so he stood at the 
end of the row and told us we had better be dressed and ready to go before the 
bell rang, or he was going to send us to see Mr. Polk, who would most likely 
spank us with that awful paddle of his. At this point, anything was better than 
getting that heavy board slapped over my buttocks again.
	Quickly I pulled off my shirt and then wrapped my towel around my waist 
before I removed my shorts. Everyone around us was making remarks about being 
sent to the girls' class because we didn't know how to play basketball, at least 
that's what the rest of the class thought. My reeking diapers repelled some of 
the boys away from me, too. One kid said, "man, you need a change! 
Whhoooowhheeee!"
	Billy had removed his piss-soaked underpants and went into the shower 
completely naked. As I had been doing for the last couple days, I kept my 
diapers on and resigned myself to the fact that people knew I wore diapers and 
that further attempts to hide them from the view of others only brought on more 
ridicule. Very quickly I dashed into the shower with my dirty diapers still on, 
amid several other naked boys. Many of the boys from the other rows had not yet 
seen me wearing just my diapers until they caught a glimpse of me in the shower, 
and they remarked about it. The water sprayed loudly as it struck my plastic 
pants, amplified throughout the entire shower area. I only stood there for 
thirty seconds or so, if that, ignoring everyone the best I could. I retrieved 
my towel and walked back to my locker. As discreetly as I could I wiped off the 
beads of water on my plastic pants. I fetched my pants and got them up over my 
diapers and then finished dressing. To Mr. Burns' satisfaction, we were finished 
dressing in time. We fled out the locker room doors and headed to lunch.
	As we had gotten off to a late start for lunch it seemed to end quickly 
and I was just as glad that classes were resuming, though I just wanted to go 
home at this point. I was very glad to have made as far as my last class, which 
was math. I nervously walked in and received the same kind of looks that I had 
been getting all day today and the day before. I could feel their stares and 
sense what they were thinking. "There's Michael the Baby Butt!" one girl 
laughed. Another girl said "My God! Seventh grade and he wears diapers!"
	I wanted to leave the classroom, and it almost would have been worth a 
truancy to do it. I couldn't concentrate on the lesson since I knew that 
everyone looked at me at one time or another. If I didn't already have enough 
anxiety to deal with, I also had another problem, and it wasn't a math problem. 
I needed to poop.
	The clock indicated that another 35 minutes remained. As each minute 
slowly elapsed as it seemed, the pressure became more pronounced. At fifteen 
minutes before the bell I was still holding it. Fifteen minutes wasn't all that 
long, I thought, but now it was getting more and more critical that I do 
something. I thought about going into the bathroom and "cheating". This meant 
removing the diaper and using the... using the-- toilet! I didn't mind being 
denied use of the toilet at home (in fact I enjoyed it there), but at school, I 
couldn't go around with a stinky bowel movement loaded into my diapers, even at 
the end of the day. I still had the bus to ride home before it was all over with 
for today. It would probably get me a spanking when I got home, but I wasn't 
even thinking that. I asked Mrs. Babcock, my math teacher, if I could be excused 
for the restroom. "Michael, there's only fifteen minutes left," she said.
	"I can't wait that long," I said. "He'll pee his pants if you don't let 
him go!" shouted a kid from the back of the room. The rest of the class laughed 
along with him until Mrs. Babcock chastised the boy for his outburst.
	"Go back to your seat, Michael," Mrs. Babcock ordered me. I tried to keep 
my buttocks tightly together as I walked, but there was so much diaper material 
packed into my crotch and therefore made this impossible to do. Ten more minutes 
remained before the bell rang. I hoped that I could at least hold it until I was 
out of the classroom. I changed the position in my seat and sat on my heel, 
doing all I could do to hold back my bowel movement. I knew the others were 
watching me and they could see that I looked quite uncomfortable at that point.
	Six minutes still remained. I had only completed half of the in- class 
assignment and I knew I was going to get a low grade. "So what!" I thought. My 
priorities were involved in my pants instead of my pencil right now. Mrs. 
Babcock told us our time was up and told us to turn our papers in, finished or 
not.
	I wished that Mrs. Babcock could have come around and collected the papers 
as I was in no position to get up from my seat. I tried to get the attention of 
the girl in front of me to ask her to turn it in for me, but she had already 
gotten up along with everyone else.
	"Michael!" Mrs. Babcock shouted across the vacant desks. "Time's up! Bring 
me your paper now!"
	I was in a big predicament now. If I got up, I would load my pants. If I 
didn't get up, I'd probably get in more trouble. Mrs. Babcock was getting 
impatient.
	"Class, nobody leaves today until Michael turns in his assignment," she 
said.
	The last thing I needed was to get on everyone's shitlist, which I figured 
would be worse in the long run than any other consequences I was about to 
encounter. I got up and quickly ran to her desk to turn in my half-completed, 
hastily scribbled paper. The class applauded, just to be sarcastic.
	Just as I was sitting down, it was too late for my stools to ebb at this 
point. The poop came out loosely and shot straight into the rear of my diapers 
and soaked into several layers. I pooped loudly with an audible, wet fart to 
accompany the discharge.
	There were three girls in the next row all looking at me and wincing at 
what they had suspected. "Eeewww!" one of them said. "He didn't, did he?"
	I tried to sit there and not acknowledge my own accident, but the 
discomforted look on my face told the other kids that I had made in my pants! As 
the bell rang I continued to sit there in my desk. I started crying after the 
last kid left the room.
	Mrs. Babcock walked over to me and asked me what the problem was. "I told 
you I needed to go!" I said.
	"If you had to go that bad, you should have been aware of it before coming 
to class."
	"I didn't need to go then," I said.
	"When did you know that you had to go, just a few minutes ago?"
	"About forty minutes ago."
	"You should have gone then."
	Mrs. Babcock showed no sympathy or understanding and told me I'd better 
get going or I'd miss the bus. She did, however, return my paper and told me 
that I could finish it over the weekend. I made a quick stop at my locker and 
ran to the front of the school building, only to realize that I was too late and 
had missed my bus. I leaned up against the flagpole as I watched the fleet 
stream out of the parking lot.
	I didn't have much hope for catching a ride unless I called mom at her 
work, which wasn't a viable option. Calling dad was out of the question for 
various reasons, mainly that he was too busy at his job to be bothered. I 
started to walk back into the building to get warm when I saw that Katie and 
Vicki were standing outside among others who were presumably waiting to be 
picked up.
	I was up against another dilemma. Do I walk home in poopy pants for three 
miles in the cold, blowing wind and trudging through snow, or do I ask for a 
ride and hope nobody notices the smell? On a warm day I would have opted to 
walk, but I was too desperate and I didn't want icy gusts numbing my face.
	I walked up to the girls and told them I needed a ride.
	"What are you still doing here, Michael?"
	"I missed the bus," I said humbly with my head buried into my shoulders.
	"Oh, and I suppose you want a ride?" Katie said sarcastically.
	"That'd be nice," I answered.
	Vicki's mom then pulled up to the curb a couple minutes later. "Sorry I'm 
late," Vicki's mom apologized. "There was an accident on the way over," she 
explained. There was another accident that she'd soon find out about once I got 
into the car.
	"We have an extra rider today," Vicki said.
	"Miss the bus, eh, Michael?" "Uh huh," I said.
	I got into the back seat with Katie. I sat down and felt the wet gooey 
poop spread around. It wasn't long before the air became very stinky in the 
confining space of the car. "Whoo! Did they serve beans today or something?" 
Vicki's mom asked. "Someone has the gassies!" "Not me!" Vicki affirmed. "T'was 
not I," Katie said.
	Katie then pulled back my coat and my shirt to examine my diapers. 
"Michael did it!" she said so plainly. "Wow! You really stink!"
	I jabbed Katie in the rib.
	"Shut up! I've had enough today, okay?"
	"You pooped your pants in school, didn't you?"
	Vicki turned around in her seat and looked at me. "Didums doo-doo his 
didies?" Vicki said in a baby-talk voice. "Do you wear diapers, Michael?" 
Vicki's mom asked.
	I saw her looking at me in the rearview mirror. I just nodded silently 
since I was, in fact, in diapers. I didn't feel that it warranted explanation, 
but Katie offered to tell Vicki's mom what I was wearing.
	I was glad to be home at last. I started to go back to my room to set my 
book bag down, but Katie told me to stop and set it down in the living room 
since I could take it back there later.
	"Your diaper change comes first thing," she said as she set her own books 
down next to mine. She told me to get ready for my diaper change. I lay down on 
the floor as she prepared a new set of diapers and some plastic pants. She took 
out all the pins and set them aside as she pulled the poop-filled diapers out 
from underneath me. I could feel them peeling off of my behind, leaving Katie to 
deal with the raunchy mess.
	"I hope you don't poop in your diapers very often," she said as she fanned 
my foul fecal fumes away from her face. She used several wipes to get all the 
poop wiped up. Once she had me cleaned up she wrapped several clean diapers 
around me-- six this time, as it appeared in the stack. My plastic pants could 
barely fit over them, though she managed to get the two pairs of them on that 
she liked to make me wear. I continued to sit on the floor while I watched Katie 
fold up my pants. and put them away.
	She came back and picked up the diaper pail and carried it to the bathroom 
toting away my didies. I continued to sit on the floor and watch Katie reach 
into her pocket for her key. As her rear was facing towards me, I took a look at 
it and thought of how her tight jeans and the complete lack of padding 
underneath them was such a stark contrast to the thick, white bulging padding 
that dominated my rear end and left my legs bare. This was all I would be 
wearing for the entire weekend, and every weekend hereafter would be just the 
same.
	As Katie entered the bathroom, I thought of how she had to pull her pants 
down each time she used the toilet, whereas as I no longer could enter the 
bathroom to use the toilet at all. As I peed and pooped, my diapers stayed right 
where they were, pulled up tightly into my crotch and rising up high over my 
stomach and my butt.
	I got up and took my book bag into my room. I tried to work on the math 
paper I brought home, though my concentration was frequently disrupted by 
thinking about how my life had only begun to change from this day forward. It 
was the weekend, I decided, and I wanted to enjoy the time I had away from 
school, so I put away the homework and went to the computer to write another 
story. I decided to gather up all of the bits and pieces that I had written up 
to this point and combine them into one big story. Over the next several months, 
having plenty of time at home, always stuck in my diapers, I worked diligently 
on this story and combined several excerpts from my previous writings. Katie and 
the rest of the family (Mom, at least) read this tome of mine when it was all 
done. It didn't matter that they read it; I had nothing to hide from them 
anymore.

MICHAEL'S DIAPER STORIES: CONCLUSION
------------------------------------

	Katie continued to change me promptly upon my returning home from school 
each day. In fact, I stopped riding the bus and started going to school with 
Katie and riding along with Vicki and her Mom. Life at home was about the same 
every night. We ate dinner around the table as a family just about every night. 
Katie and I continued to get into our spats, though I didn't feel as inclined to 
provoke Katie as much since she could use my constant state of being diapered 
against me if she wanted to. I would remain in only my diapers from after school 
until the following morning. I spent all of my weekends and the entire spring 
break in just my diapers.
	I was still grounded from the Internet as I had violated the stipulation 
of not messing in my pants. I was allowed to use the computer itself, though, so 
I wrote e- mail messages and copied them to a disk which I gave to Billy at 
school to send to John and Jake. Likewise, Billy copied their messages to the 
disk and gave it to me so I could respond back again. As Billy and I never saw 
each other beyond school, we even wrote "e-mail" to each other (we called it "d-
mail," for "disk"), utilizing the same disk exchange method that was used for 
relaying e-mail messages with John and Jake.
	While nobody ever left Billy and me alone at school completely, many of 
the kids stayed away from us since they didn't want to associate with anyone who 
wore diapers. P.E. class was still difficult and there were a few persistent 
kids who could not give it a rest. We were eventually allowed to change in a 
small storage room, which gave us some more privacy, though there was nothing I 
could do about having to walk to the showers with my diapers still on. I 
eventually shed the towel for going en route to the shower since it was no 
secret that I wore diapers. Over time, even Billy overcame his inhibitions and 
learned to ignore anyone that joked about his diapers and his condition that 
required that he wear them.
	At the end of the school year it was decided through more of a mutual 
agreement than a continuation of my punishment that I only wear diapers and a 
shirt for the entire summer. There would be exceptions, such as getting haircuts 
and seeing the dentist, however, these times would only collectively amount to a 
few hours out of over 2,100 total hours over the course of the summer.
	Billy also spent much of his summer in just his diapers, as did his 
brother Kevin, who had straightened up his act and was successfully diverted 
from a potential life of drug-riddled decay and destruction. To go back and 
forth to each others' houses, we waited until dusk to ride our bikes, which we 
did in just our diapers. On many of the warm summer nights other kids were still 
out playing and they all looked at us funny at first, noticing in the twilight a 
white bulge around each of our bodies. After awhile it was what they expected to 
see and, with the exception of two girls who lived down a few houses from to 
Billy, they eventually paid no attention to us.
	By the time the school year ended, my Internet privileges were reinstated. 
Billy had kept correspondence with John and Jake and helped to keep us all in 
touch with each other. I was very eager to share my big story with them, and it 
was well-received by each of them. I even shared it with the everyone else in 
the alt.sex.fetish.diapers group and I received several compliments from fellow 
diaper fetishists, which led me to establishing new e-mail friends.
	As for the story, I gave it a simple title, the same title as my what I 
had given my entire story collection. "Michael's Diaper Stories." I hope you've 
enjoyed reading it.
--------------- "Messy" Michael * * * T H E E N D * * *