'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 1
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	I was to turn eight years just a few days after Thanksgiving, though my 
grandmother always gave me my birthday present on the big Turkey Day instead as 
this was the day when my family visited with Grandma for the big feast. My 
twelve-year-old sister Amy and I had stayed with Grandma for a few days over the 
previous summer. At bedtime when I stripped down to just my underpants and a 
shirt, Grandma noted how all of my underwear was so dingy and stained, both in 
the front and the rear. Seeing that I needed some new underpants, she decided to 
buy me some new briefs for my upcoming birthday. She knew that I especially 
enjoyed the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers, so she bought me a three-pack of 
boys' briefs colorfully printed in this theme.
	I felt a little embarrassed to receive underwear as a birthday gift, 
especially with my sister and two cousins present, but to me, it was perhaps the 
best gift I had ever received and I looked forward to wearing something that 
didn't reveal my body's elimination problems, at least not yet. I have two 
separate, but equally embarrassing problems. The first of these problems is that 
I am a bedwetter. My mother often talked about-- or threatened, as I perceived 
it-- putting me into diapers, but my father often pre-empted this measure from 
being taken. Now that my parents were divorced, I faced a greater chance of 
getting put into diapers now. I hadn't been diapered for bedwetting since I 
outgrew the largest size available at the supermarket. After I outgrew diapers I 
wore training pants, which I also eventually outgrew as I continued wetting my 
bed.
	Rather than to continue handling my wetting problems with diapers and 
absorbent underpants, my parents felt that I would overcome my bedwetting by 
making me deal with the consequences of a wet bed and the embarrassment of 
wearing pee-stained underwear. My bedwetting problem was now only handled by 
using a rubber liner on my bed.
	With my father out of the family, it was now entirely up to my mother to 
decide how to deal with my accidents. She felt that now I was eight years old 
and showing no signs of progress, perhaps putting me back in diapers was the 
only choice. In fact, I was now wetting my bed more often than I used to, which 
I blamed on the stress of the divorce.
	I also have a tendency to poop my pants. I hate using a toilet in any 
place except for home, and even there I don't like having to go Number Two. My 
sister teases me for stinking up the bathroom or she points out that I didn't 
wipe, which was often quite evident as I didn't always remember to flush the 
toilet when I was done. Because I couldn't keep my underwear clean in the first 
place, I never bothered to wipe after a bowel movement and this only added to 
the prominent brown stains in the seats of my once-white briefs. My mother and 
father often scolded me for not wiping, even though my underwear was too stained 
up for wiping my bottom to make any difference.
	At first, my parents refused to let me have the new underwear. They felt 
that since I wet my bed and pooped my pants that I should be punished by being 
forced to go around in my dingy, stained underwear for not handling my body's 
wastes more responsibly. My mother and grandmother had a long talk about the 
issue, and eventually, Mom was talked into giving me a fresh start. Get rid of 
all my old, dirty underwear and give me some brand new, clean pairs that I would 
want to try to keep clean.
	Now that I was being given another chance, Mom became very serious about 
teaching me to keep both ends of my underpants clean. She bought me a couple 
packages of brand new pairs of white briefs and told me that if I wanted Santa 
Claus to bring me any toys for Christmas then I would have to keep my underwear 
clean. Otherwise, I would get diapers for Christmas instead.
	I returned to school the following Monday after a four- day reprieve over 
Thanksgiving. My actual birthday was on the day before and I was filling giddy 
about becoming an eight-year- old at long last. I had on my brand new Power 
Rangers underwear, proud to be wearing them and enjoying their newness.
	Trouble began that day when I had also been holding back a bowel movement 
since morning. I especially hated using the toilets at school for anything but 
for peeing in. The other kids made fun of me at the beginning of the school year 
when I went into the bathroom to poop. They all knew it was me that was farting 
so loudly in the stall and stinking up the entire bathroom. After that incident 
I vowed never to use a toilet at school again for a bowel movement, no matter 
how badly I had to go. On this particular day I was pushing my limits.
	I made it all the way through the day to the last bell, sitting on my heel 
and tightening up my buttocks to hold back my bowel movement until I got home. 
By then, a big snowstorm had rolled in, which would make the ride home on the 
bus take longer than I expected. It was the first big storm of the winter 
season. People were usually not prepared for it and cars were sliding off the 
road or driving very slowly. The rest of the kids on the bus and I got stuck 
waiting in backed-up traffic. I figured I should have been home by the time the 
bus finally got to its first stop.
	I couldn't hold it in too much longer. I was so afraid of losing it now 
and ruining the new briefs I was wearing. I was wedged between the bus window 
and my sister and her friend Marlene who had sat down with us on the crowded 
bus, so I couldn't very easily get into a position to sit on my heel. I tried to 
pinch my buttocks together, but it did me no good as the pressure in my bowels 
gave. Suddenly I let another messy accident unload into my pants and also into 
my new underwear! This was the first time I pooped my pants in the presence of 
other classmates. I tried to act as if nothing happened, but when some kid 
asked, "man, who farted?" I knew that I was in trouble.
	Everybody knew that I was the source of the foul odor and they could tell 
it was more than just a fart. They laughed at me and called me every name that a 
typical grade- school-aged kid fascinated with bathroom humor could think of. 
Amy was so embarrassed and some of the kids even started laughing at her and 
falsely accusing her of doing the same thing.
	I cried all the way home from the bus stop. My sister scolded me for the 
embarrassment that I had caused her. The deep snow accumulation and the sharp 
wind blowing against us made the walk home even more difficult. Then, to make 
matters worse, I slipped and fell on some ice, and as I landed on my butt, my 
weight splattered the mess around in my pants even more. The cold air froze the 
moisture in the seat of my pants, making the whole ordeal even more 
uncomfortable.
	I felt so ashamed that I ruined a pair of my Power Rangers underwear. I 
knew that they would never be the same again and would always bear a big brown 
stain in the seat, which even the large print on the back of them could not 
conceal. After I cleaned myself up and changed I tried to wash out my briefs in 
the bathtub since I didn't know how to run the washing machine and Amy was 
unsympathetic and unwilling to help me. My efforts did little to restore my 
underwear to a clean state and rid them of the incriminatingly indelible 
evidence.
	Mom came home late that evening because of the snowstorm. She was tired 
and cranky from trying to get home fighting traffic in such weather. The last 
thing she needed to deal with was my dirty underpants. I didn't want to tell her 
about what happened, but Amy was quick to say something about my accident.
	"Mom! Johnny pooped his pants again!" she said.
	"What else is new?" she sighed. "He'll never learn, will he?"
	"Nope, he won't! He did it on the bus, and he did it in his new Power 
Rangers underwear, too!"
	I ran off and hid in my room, but my mother quickly located me under my 
bed. She made me come out to talk to her about the problem. As usual, the threat 
of putting me in diapers came up, and while I used to think my mother was just 
crying wolf when she threatened to put me back in diapers, I cringed and cowered 
at such a thought, realizing now that Mom was more serious about it.
	The next day things were back to normal and school was still in session in 
spite of the storm. Like other kids, I hoped for a cancellation of school, but I 
had an especially good reason to want to stay home. I now had a reputation of 
being known as "Stinky Pants" at school.
	On the other front-- literally the front-- I had my recent bedwetting 
incidents to deal with. I had gone for over a week without wetting my bed and I 
began to feel more hopeful about overcoming at least one of my bathroom-related 
problems. One cold winter night I woke up to discover that I had wet my bed 
again! I exclaimed, "oh, no!" as I reached down and felt the dampness in my 
crotch. My sheets were soaked in urine as were my underpants and my T-shirt. As 
luck would have it, I was wearing another pair of the Power Rangers underwear, 
now tarnished with a big piss stain in the fly front. I got up and turned the 
light on to survey the damage. My bed had a big wet spot right through the 
center of it as I expected. I looked at my alarm clock which read 3:07 A.M. 
There was nothing I could do about it at this hour.
	I knew the routine all too well. I stripped off my cold, wet underwear and 
T-shirt and put on some dry ones, which I hoped would stay dry until I got up 
again to go to school. I put on a gleaming white pair of underpants which were 
still in their package with the strip of cardboard folded up inside. I grabbed a 
spare blanket from my closet and then picked up my pillow from the bed. I lay 
down and curled up on the floor of my bedroom right next to the heat vent where 
I could keep warm and hopefully resume my sleep. As I thought about my other 
recent incidents of bedwetting, I thought, "Why does this keep happening?"
	6:15 A.M. arrived with the jarring buzz of the alarm clock. I had set it 
back fifteen minutes earlier to wake myself up ahead of time so that I could 
move back to my bed. My mother was due in at 6:30 to check on me and see that I 
was awake and I would be seen in my bed when my Mom turned the light on. Right 
around 6:30 the light clicked on as I had been expecting. I pretended to be 
asleep, but I was already awake and more alert than my mother expected me to be. 
I was lying on the edge of my bed where it was still dry. I got up and promptly 
went out to the kitchen table to eat my breakfast before getting dressed. My 
mother had her back turned while she was busy getting out the cereal and the 
milk, and therefore didn't notice that I had changed my underwear overnight as I 
entered the kitchen.
	"My, you're unusually rambunctious this morning!" my mother said as she 
heard me behind her pulling up a chair sooner than she expected. By the time she 
turned around my underwear was out of view. I sat down at the table and began 
eating my cereal. I felt uneasy about having to tell Mom about wetting my bed 
again and I hoped to avoid discussing the matter altogether, even though I knew 
she would find out eventually. By the time I got finished eating my cereal Amy 
was on her way into the kitchen. Amy always got herself dressed before eating 
breakfast, unlike me, as I always waited until after I ate before putting on my 
clothes. I also didn't like sitting at the kitchen table with my sister as we 
fought often. As I left from the table, my sister watched me walk back towards 
my bedroom. She noticed that I was wearing plain white underpants instead of the 
Power Rangers underwear.
	"Didn't you have on your Power Rangers underwear last night?" she pointed 
out.
	Suddenly, everything stopped. Mom looked up from the newspaper she was 
reading at the table. She took a look at me donning a white pair of Fruit of the 
Looms and asked me why I changed my underwear. I knew I had no time to make up a 
plausible excuse, so I told her the truth, plain and simple.
	"I wet my bed again," I confessed humbly. "I'm sorry."
	Mom set her newspaper down and followed me to my bedroom. She went in and 
took a look at my bed. She pulled back the sheets and looked at the spot on it. 
The air stank of urine.
	"Johnny!" she scolded me.
	"I couldn't help it!" I cried. My mother walked over to my clothes pile in 
the corner and retrieved the wet pair of Power Rangers underpants.
	"Remember what I said about Santa giving you toys?" she reminded me as she 
held up the wet briefs by the waistband.
	"Yes," I sniffled.
	"Now hurry and get dressed!" my mother ordered me as she hastily stripped 
the bed and carried the sheets out to the washing machine.
	"Can you remember to transfer these to the dryer when you get home?" I 
faintly heard Mom talking to Amy out in the kitchen.
	I went through my entire day at school thinking about having wet my bed 
again. Every time after I wet my bed the night before I would go to school the 
following day and look around my classroom and wonder how many of the other kids 
in that small room also wet their beds. I felt like I was all alone and nobody 
else wet his bed. I had a feeling that there were some others who didn't wipe 
their butts well enough to keep their underwear free of skid marks, however, and 
I also knew of one kid who pooped his pants in class last year. I knew just how 
he must have felt when it happened to him.
	After my sister and I got home from school she went straight to the 
washing machine to transfer my bed sheets into the dryer.
	"Just think, Johnny," she said. "I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't 
for you wetting your bed!"
	"I can't help it!" I defended. "Do you think I do it on purpose?"
	"I wonder if you do," she answered, though It was meant to be a rhetorical 
question only.
	"You don't wipe your butt, for one thing," she elaborated.
	"I do, too!" I argued, though she was right.
	"You're never in there long enough!" Amy contested as she went on to state 
her other observations about my use of the bathroom.
	"I've heard you go in there, fart it out, flush, and then open the door. 
Sometimes you don't even flush, and I've gone in after you, and I look in the 
toilet, and all I see are just your stinky little turds floating around! There's 
no toilet paper, so I know you don't always wipe your butt! Maybe that's why on 
some boys' underwear they put a picture of a cartoon character on the butt, so 
nobody sees that you didn't wipe!"
	Having heard enough, I yelled "Shut up!" and tried to hit my sister.
	"Remember!" Amy said as she backed away. "Santa sees you when you're 
sleeping, and he knows when you're awake!" Mentioning Santa Claus usually helped 
to get me to behave since I still believed in the red-suited man.
	"And he knows when you wet your bed and poop your pants!" Amy added. She 
turned her head away and suppressed her laugh. She just loved teasing me and 
going along with me about my belief in Santa Claus.
	"Will he still bring me toys?" I asked with a concerned tone.
	"Only if you don't wet your bed and poop your pants. Otherwise, he'll 
bring you diapers!"
	"But I'm eight years old now!" I cried. "Only babies wear diapers!"
	"You were still wearing them when you were five," Amy reminded her me. 
"And besides, Santa doesn't care how old you are. He brings diapers to all the 
little boys in the world who wet their beds! He also brings diapers to all the 
boys who poop their pants and don't wipe their butts!"
	"I won't let it happen again!" I pleaded.
	"Tell that to Santa when we go to the mall this weekend!" Amy said.

'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 2
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	I wet my bed again later that week and by the end of the third week in 
December I had wet my bed three more times! It seemed like I was going to find 
that jolly ol' St. Nick would forego his toy bag and reach into the bag of 
diapers that he brought with him while making his global Christmas Eve rounds. 
The thought of getting diapers made me think about Santa Claus differently than 
before, forcing myself to doubt for the first time that he even existed, though 
the thought quickly perished from my youthful mind.
	Saturday afternoon arrived, and Christmas break had begun, no school until 
next year! I went with my mother and Amy to the mall as we had been looking 
forward to doing all week. Mom split off to do her shopping while Amy and I went 
around to look in other stores and gather more ideas to fulfill our Christmas 
wishes. Amy had to stay with me and keep a watch on me. I went through the toy 
store and said, "I want this, and I want this, and I want this..."
	Seeing that I would most likely want to spent a lot of time in the toy 
store, Amy decided to leave me there and look in the clothing store across the 
mall. After a half hour or so had passed, we met again with Mom and we ate lunch 
at the food court. After we ate, I asked if I could go see Santa Claus. Mom 
looked down the busy mall and she could see where Santa Claus was sitting. There 
was a long line of kids and their parents mobbed all around Santa.
	"I don't think so, Johnny. Look at that line!" Mom exclaimed.
	"But I want to talk to him!" I pleaded.
	Mom tried to dissuade me from going to see Santa Claus, but I was still a 
firm believer in spite of my recent lapse of doubting Santa Claus' existence and 
I insisted on talking to him.
	"What for?" Mom asked. "To talk him out of bringing you diapers? I think 
he's pretty much made up his mind on that one!"
	"I just wanna tell him what toys I want!"
	"Oh, okay," Mom groaned. "Amy, can you take him to see Santa?"
	"Sure," she said without any reluctance. "He'll tell you that he's 
bringing you diapers," she said to me, "and in front of all those other kids, 
too!"
	"Santa wouldn't do that!" I denied Amy.
	Mom said she would be back in a half hour to meet with us again and we 
would leave at that time. Amy escorted me over to see Santa Claus, where I 
stepped in line and stood behind dozens of other kids-- most of them younger 
than me-- waiting to give Santa Claus their wishes. Amy used this time to browse 
in a couple more clothing stores.
	The line slowly inched forward. While I was standing there I felt myself 
badly needing to poop. I managed to stave off the urge once already when I was 
sitting down to eat. I was already on my way to see Santa Claus and I felt that 
this was probably my only opportunity to see the big man in the red suit. I 
didn't want to step out of the line and lose my place. Mom wasn't going to wait 
for me again, so I knew not to miss my chance. Just like the restrooms at 
school, I also didn't like having to use public restrooms to poop since I felt 
so embarrassed by making sounds and odors that others in the restroom would 
sense.
	About twenty-five minutes had passed before I finally got to the front of 
the line. Amy had finished her shopping and she was waiting for me on the other 
side of the crowd. Mom had since then joined her in the wait. At long last it 
was my turn to sit on Santa's lap to tell him that I was a good boy and to tell 
him about all the toys I wanted. I tried to keep a straight face as I talked to 
Santa Claus, but the pressure in my bowels was building. I couldn't very easily 
cross my legs where I was. Suddenly, right there, while sitting on Santa Claus' 
lap, with dozens of other kids and their parents at the scene, I pooped in my 
pants! Without even saying goodbye to Santa, I suddenly fled from his lap and 
went running to my impatiently waiting mother. I didn't even take a candy cane 
from one of the elves standing by. Santa was waving his hand in front of his 
face to fan away the odors of my accident.
	I was extremely humiliated! The back of my pants was wet from the load of 
poop I discharged. The kids standing in line saw me suffering in this terrible 
ordeal and they all laughed at me. My sister and my mother didn't give me any 
sympathy as they were also embarrassed about the situation. They quickly 
escorted me out of the mall. Upon reaching the parking lot, I was scolded all 
the way to the car as we trudged through the snow and slush.
	"Why didn't you go to the bathroom?!" my mother demanded to know.
	"There was a line!" I cried. "I didn't wanna lose my place!"
	"You mean you couldn't even hold it while you were waiting? How long were 
you holding it?"
	"Just a few minutes," I sobbed. "I don't like using other bathrooms, just 
at home!"
	"Really, and why is that?"
	"Because everybody will laugh at me for pooping and stinking up the 
bathroom!"
	"It looks like you did that anyway, only it wasn't in the bathroom, but in 
front of hundreds of other people! You really embarrassed me, Johnny!"
	"And me!" Amy added.
	When we got to the car, my mother removed the contents of one of the 
plastic bags she was carrying and then she laid the empty plastic bag flat on 
the seat. She told me to sit on it. I climbed into the car and Mom slammed the 
door. I continued to cry as I waited to get home. The smell of my accident was 
stinking up the car, and in spite of the cold weather, everybody cracked their 
windows to let the foul air out.
	When I got home I went into the bathroom to clean myself up. I stripped 
off my pants and then my underwear. It seemed to be rare bad luck for me as I 
had now ruined all three pairs of my Power Rangers underwear on their maiden 
voyages, so to speak. This accident was so huge. Lots of smelly poop coated the 
entire back half of my underpants and the print on the seat of my briefs did no 
good to conceal what had happened. I was especially upset that out of all the 
white underpants I could have worn instead, this was the day I would have an 
accident and ruin my Power Rangers underwear! It was Saturday, however, which I 
chose as a special day to wear them.
	After I got myself cleaned up I left my soiled clothes in the bathroom and 
went into my room to put on another pair of underwear and some pants. My mother 
told me to go back into the bathroom and get my dirty clothes off the floor and 
to bring them to her. I cried again as I shamefully carried the poop-covered 
briefs and pants out to the laundry room where my mother was waiting.
	"You did it in your Power Rangers underwear, too!" my mother exclaimed. 
"It looks like Santa Claus won't be bringing you any new underwear, unless you 
consider *diapers* to be underwear!"
	Mom then threw the ruined underpants into the garbage and said, "You know 
these are too ruined now!" She handed me my pants and told me to throw them in 
my hamper. She also said that I would have to do my own laundry tonight if I 
wanted any clean pants to wear.
	Later that evening Mom had a Christmas party to go to. She expected to be 
gone late, so my sister and I would have the evening to ourselves. Mom left at 
about 6:30 and gave us some money so we could order a pizza and have it 
delivered. Only a few minutes had passed since Mom left. Again I had yet another 
pooping accident in my pants! This was the first time in awhile since I could 
recall messing my pants twice in one day. I tried to be discreet about it as I 
got up from my chair to go into the bathroom, but Amy was too perceptive to 
ignore the wet spot on my jeans and the smell that filled the air.
	"Did it again, didn't you?" she said as I thought I had made it to the 
bathroom without my sister knowing what had happened. I spent several minutes in 
the bathroom cleaning myself up. I also used this moment to cry as I was so 
distraught by this accident. I felt that my chances of looking good to Santa 
Claus were diminishing greatly.
	I walked back to my bedroom completely naked as I carried my crap-filled 
jeans and underpants with me. I went into my bedroom and dropped my clothes into 
my hamper, spreading the fresh fecal matter onto other clothing in the pile. I 
went to my underwear drawer and selected a pair that was already stained so that 
if I had another accident it wouldn't really matter. I had another pair of clean 
pants, fortunately. I put these on and I went back out to join my sister, who 
had since then ordered the pizza.
	As it was a busy Saturday night, the pizza wasn't expected for forty-five 
minutes. During this time I felt that I had to poop again! I had plenty of 
warning, and the bathroom wasn't that far away. But I let myself have another 
accident! I felt as if I didn't care anymore. I knew I was to do my own laundry 
tonight, but I decided to let it wait until I felt better about the situation I 
was in. I didn't even bother to get up to change right away, but my sister still 
detected the strong odor of my poop. She confirmed her suspicions and took a 
deep whiff of the air.
	"Phew! Johnny! Not again!" she groaned.
	"I can't help it!" I cried.
	"We do have a toilet in this house, you know," my sister remarked snidely. 
"You ought to try using it sometime!"
	With my head shamefully hung low, I dragged my feet as I entered the 
bathroom and dealt with yet another mess I created in my pants. I felt so 
hopeless now and feared that I would have another accident for sure. After I 
cleaned up I quickly strode naked past my sister and went to my bedroom to 
change into clean underpants again.
	I put on another clean pair of underwear and then I began to search for a 
clean pair of pants. I couldn't find any, so I searched high and low for 
something to wear. I went back to my hamper to retrieve one of the two pairs 
that I had already worn and deposited in my laundry. Much to my surprise, I 
found out that they also got poop smeared onto them from the first pair of 
soiled pants I dropped onto the pile. I thought about wearing a pair of my 
shorts, only to remember that my Mom gave them all away after the summer weather 
ended since I had outgrown them all. I finally resigned myself to going around 
in my underwear for the rest of the evening. I figured I would need to get ready 
for bed sooner or later anyway.
	As I sat down in front of my sister she noticed that I had on just my 
underwear and she did not trust that one single layer of cotton covering my 
behind to contain any accidents. She didn't want me to take any chances.
	"Hold it!" she said.
	"What?"
	"You have another accident and you're gonna spill shit all over that 
floor!"
	"I am not! I'm okay now!" I insisted.
	Amy suddenly got up and stood in front of me.
	"Get up!" she said.
	I obediently rose to my feet, but I wasn't sure what my sister was going 
to try to make me do now.
	"Come to your room," she said, directing me to go ahead of her and lead.
	As I walked down the hall, Amy looked down at my rear and noticed that 
some of the poop from the last accident didn't get wiped up and it had soaked 
into the pair of underpants that I was wearing.
	"You still didn't clean yourself up!" she yelled.
	"What are you doing?" I asked her. Without hesitating, she walked straight 
over to my underwear drawer and pulled out a tall stack of my white briefs.
	"Put these on!" she ordered as she handed me the stack. I looked up at her 
and asked, "What for?"
	"Since we don't have any diapers around here-- at least not yet-- this 
will have to do for now. Besides, you'll just keep pooping in your underwear, 
anyway."
	"I think I'll be okay now," I said.
	"Let's not take any chances, shall we?" she replied.
	I figured out that Amy wanted me to wear several pairs of underpants 
together to simulate a diaper. It wasn't the first time for me to wear my 
undergarments in multiples. When I was wearing training pants, my mother usually 
put me in two, sometimes three pairs, which was where Amy got the idea of 
applying this method of multiplicity to my underwear.
	Amy insisted that I wear the extra pairs of underpants. I knew I would 
look and feel silly wearing them all together, though at the same time I felt 
that I would be better off having some extra protection as if I were in a 
diaper. Amy watched as I put on each pair. By the time I pulled on the eighth 
and final pair in the stack, my rear end was padded up and my underwear 
resembled a diaper from the combined thickness of my briefs and the white 
fabric. Amy giggled as she watched me walk around in my underwear.
	"You even look like you're wearing a diaper!" she said. "It makes you look 
cute!"
	The "diaper" actually felt pleasing to me and the sensation of the extra 
layers over my small genitals gave me an erection. I looked down at my crotch 
and noted the way my underwear bulged out. I felt good about being "diapered" 
and it made me feel more secure about having another accident, just as long as 
nobody else saw me. Unfortunately, this was not to be the case. The pizza 
delivery showed up a few minutes later. At that time Amy was busy on the phone 
talking to her friend Marlene, mostly about making me wear several pairs of my 
underpants because of my accidents. When the doorbell rang she told me to answer 
it. Before I even got up to open the door I looked down at my bulging crotch and 
the blend of waistbands running across my stomach. I hesitated to allow anyone 
else to see me like this. Amy became impatient.
	"Johnny! Get the door! The pizza's here!"
	Seeing that she wasn't about to get off the phone and get the door 
herself, I got up and anticipated what the pizza delivery person would say to 
me. I slowly opened the door and was greeted by the pizza delivery driver. He 
looked at me standing there with several pairs of briefs pulled up high on my 
waist. He could tell I was embarrassed about my state of dress, especially with 
eight pairs of briefs on me, though it was probably nothing unusual for the 
pizza driver to see kids running around in their underpants, although perhaps I 
was the first he had seen wearing several pairs. Most likely the delivery driver 
saw older kids in their diapers, however. The driver just had his job to do and 
he didn't say anything to me about my underwear. He handed me the pizza and I 
handed him the money.
	"Give him a tip!" Amy reminded me. I gave back a dollar of the change and 
then the driver wished us a good evening. He also handed me two small Christmas 
candy canes and then he quickly headed back out on his way to his next delivery.
	I spent the rest of my evening in my "diaper" watching "Christmas 
Vacation" and "Home Alone" with Amy. Just when the second movie was started, I 
felt another batch of poop getting ready to squirt out of me. This time I 
thought I could make it to the bathroom, but I didn't feel that I needed to get 
up and use the toilet since I was "diapered." I just sat back and let the poopy 
discharge flow out into my briefs. It wasn't nearly as much as I pooped out 
before, but it was enough to cover my behind in wet shit and stink up the room. 
I also expelled a juicy fart and Amy knew from its sound that I dumped into my 
briefs again.
	"Phew! Did you have *another* accident?" Amy asked. I looked at her and 
didn't say anything, though the expression on my face was a sufficient "yes" 
answer. I remained sitting and continued to watch the movie as the mess in my 
briefs wasn't enough to warrant getting up to change myself. I sat in my poopy 
underpants until the movie was about to end. Even more poop was processing and 
waiting to come out of my bottom. This time it was going to be a big mess 
soaking into my underwear if I didn't get up and try to get to the bathroom. By 
this time I had passed most of my solid stool matter and now I was mostly 
producing water mixed with dissolved fecal content.
	I got up and ran into the bathroom where I stood at the toilet and started 
removing my underpants while at the same time trying to hold back the mess that 
was about to spew out of my butt. I started pulling my briefs down, but I only 
got the first three of them off before I let up on the pressure I was applying 
with my buttocks and let the liquefied shit pour out into the remaining five 
pairs. It soaked all the way through the cotton layers and I was such a mess 
now! I pulled off my underpants and stepped into the shower to clean up again. I 
left my stinky underpants on the bathroom floor and ran into my room to change.
	Amy went into the bathroom behind me to use it, but when she saw that I 
left my underpants lying on the floor she yelled to me, "get your smelly butt in 
here and take your smelly underwear with you!"
	I was debating whether or not I should try wearing several pairs of 
underwear again since I ended up having to clean myself up either way, plus the 
fact that having to pull down the extra pairs of underwear made it more 
difficult for me to get them all off to use the toilet. On the other hand, maybe 
the extra layers in the front would also serve as a diaper in case I wet my bed 
tonight. I knew I had drank a lot of pop while eating pizza and watching movies.
	Amy barged into my room and caught me completely naked. I held my hands 
over my genitals.
	"Oh come on, Johnny! I know what you look like down there! I told you to 
get your filthy underwear out of the bathroom!"
	"Let me get dressed, okay?" I demanded.
	"What are you going to wear?"
	"I dunno."
	"You made a real doozy of a mess in there! I think you should wear even 
more underpants this time!"
	Amy went to my underwear drawer and dumped its entire remaining contents 
on the floor.
	"Well, start putting them on!" she said. I felt that trying to wear the 
rest of my underpants would be unreasonably thick, not to mention tight around 
my waist and uncomfortable.
	"They won't all fit!" I complained.
	"Then put on as many as you can fit!" she told me.
	"I don't think I'll have any more accidents tonight!"
	"Sure, that's what you said *last* time!"
	I knew that my sister would not give up until I complied with her wishes. 
I started picking up my underpants from the floor and putting them on over my 
other pairs. I managed to get fifteen pairs on before they would no longer fit 
over the bulging mass of cotton briefs bunched together. Amy was satisfied with 
their thickness. She suppressed a giggle as she noticed the mixture of red, 
black and blue stripes of my waistbands all showing at the same time. There were 
several more pairs of underwear scattered about the floor. I gathered these up 
and put them back into the drawer. As I bent over I felt the elastic of my 
waistbands push into my stomach. They were so tight and snug, but the feeling 
was still tolerable.
	"Now go get your dirty underwear from the bathroom!" Amy reminded me. "I 
need to go in there!"
	Why don't you get them?" I asked.
	"No way! I'm not touching them! They're gross!"
	I walked into the bathroom and picked up the soiled underwear and carried 
it back to my bedroom, where I deposited it in my laundry. I went back to watch 
the rest of "Home Alone" with Amy. When I went to bed later I felt the extra 
padding of my briefs press up on my body as I rolled around on the mattress. In 
spite of the constricting pressure of the waistbands, the diaper-like feeling of 
my multiple underpants felt so soft, and the tight wrap of cotton over my butt 
and my genitals produced a feeling of security. My little penis was pressed up 
against my waist by the tight, thick wall of fly fronts. My penis was erect and 
it had been ever since I put the briefs on, and it felt so good to me, who had 
yet to discover why this felt so good.
	"Maybe diapers won't be so bad," I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 3
--------------------------------------

	I woke up the next morning, now just three days before Christmas, and 
discovered that I had wet my bed again. This time, however, my extra underwear 
saved much of my bed from getting deluged in urine. Only a small spot was 
concentrated where I had been lying was affected. Much of the wetness was soaked 
up by the fifteen pairs of underwear that I was wearing. The entire front of my 
underwear was soaked and the wetness ran back through my crotch and back up into 
my butt.
	I got up from my bed and stripped off my soaked underpants. I replaced 
them with a dry pair and went around that morning wearing them as I often did on 
weekend mornings. Amy was already awake as was Mom.
	"Did you change your underpants?" Amy asked me, noting that I was back to 
wearing just one pair.
	"Change your underpants?" my mother repeated as she looked at me and 
scowled. "Did you wet your bed again, Johnny?"
	"You should have seen what he did last night!" Amy said. "But we got the 
problem taken care of!"
	My mother got up and went straight into my bedroom and I followed her, 
sweating in nervous agitation. Mom went to my bed and saw the wet spot in the 
middle of its mattress. She was surprised to see that it was much smaller than 
usual.
	"It doesn't look like you wet very much," Mom said. "But you still wet. 
I'm afraid Santa Claus won't be bringing you any toys this Christmas."
	"So will he bring me diapers instead?" I asked.
	"Do you want him to bring you diapers?" my mother asked. "Between your 
bedwetting and messing accidents, maybe he should!"
	My mother detected the strong pee and poop odors in my bedroom.
	"It really stinks in here!" she said. "Did you have more than just a 
bedwetting accident?"
	"Well, I-"
	"Remember, Santa Claus doesn't like it when you lie," my mother warned me. 
"Did you?"
	"Yes," I confessed with tears filling my eyes.
	"Show me what you did," she said.
	I led my mother over to my hamper. I lifted the lid and showed to her the 
piles of urine-soaked and poop-covered underwear all bunched together. She 
picked up some of the wet briefs and confronted me, demanding an explanation.
	"So this is what you think your brand new underwear is for? They're all 
soaked and bunched together like this! What were you doing with them?"
	"I wet the bed last night," I said shamefully.
	"I know you did, Johnny, and it looks to me as if you put all these 
underpants on like a diaper!"
	"Amy told me to wear them like this!"
	My mother ignored me as she continued to discuss the matter, this time 
about the pairs that were stained with diarrhea.
	"What are all *these* pairs doing in here?! They're filthy! When did you 
do this?"
	"Last night," I whimpered. "After you left. I had diarrhea!"
	"So you just put on some extra underpants and considered the problem 
solved, huh?" Mom scolded. "It looks like you didn't even try going to the 
toilet!"
	"I couldn't help it!" I defended. "Amy told me to wear them like that 
because I was having accidents!"
	"Accidents are not, if you'd rather pretend that you're wearing diapers 
instead of trying to get to the toilet, then you belong in diapers!"
	I watched my mother angrily carry away my hamper, which now contained 
every pair of pants I owned and most of my underwear, too. When she came back 
she brought me a laxative pill. Every time I had accidents in my underwear my 
Mom would make me take a mild laxative so that I would learn to get to the 
bathroom when I needed to go. The laxative would provide me more "opportunities" 
to get to the toilet, but most of the time all I ended up doing was pooping in 
my underwear even more.
	This time, I wouldn't need to worry about trying to get to the toilet 
anymore. Mom decided that she wasn't going to wait for Santa Claus to bring me 
diapers, and apparently she already had some ready to give me, even though 
Christmas was still three days away. She brought to me a large, unwrapped 
cardboard box containing two dozen diapers folded and packed together with six 
pairs of plastic pants and lots of large diaper pins.
	 "Merry Christmas, Johnny," my mother said with a sarcastic tone.
	My mother told me to strip off my underpants right there in the front room 
with my sister present. Naked from my waist down, I nervously stood as I watched 
my mother prepare the diapers to put on me. I looked at the diapers and I 
couldn't believe how big and thick each one of them was! I was especially 
surprised to see that my mother was going to put two of the super-thick diapers 
on me as I watched her fold them together and lay them down on a pad that she 
also bought for changing my diapers. She told me to sit down on the diapers and 
to wait for her to return. As I obediently set myself down on the diapers I 
covered up my genitals with my hands, shivering apprehensively. She came back 
into the room with a container of powder that she had bought. She started with 
my diapering by generously applying the sweet-scented powder to my genitals and 
rear end. She then drew the diapers tightly into my crotch and pulled them up 
over my stomach and my butt. She fastened three pins into each side of the set 
of diapers. Over the big mass of cotton layers went the plastic pants. They fit 
snugly over the diapers and their tight bands gripped my legs and waist.
	When Mom finished diapering me she told Amy not to worry about changing me 
since I was diapered heavily enough that I could go all afternoon without a 
change, even with the laxative. Meanwhile, I stood in the middle of the room 
wondering when I would get some pants to wear.
	"They're all in the wash, Johnny," my mother said. "And as soon as they're 
clean, they're going to the Salvation Army. They won't fit you anymore."
	I gasped. I couldn't believe that my mother was taking my pants away!
	"So what am I gonna wear?" I asked.
	"Diapers," my mother replied tersely.
	"And what else?"
	"Diapers," she repeated. "That's all you'll have until you go back to 
school."
	"And that won't be until NEXT YEAR!" Amy teased me.
	"What'll I wear when we have company?" I asked my mother.
	"I said diapers! That's all you will have, Johnny! Diapers!"
	"She said DIAPERS, Johnny!" Amy repeated.
	Mom then left for the afternoon to buy groceries for Christmas dinner and 
to take care of some last-minute Christmas shopping. I was stuck at home with my 
sister that Sunday as she baby-sat me. I wanted to play in the snow with the 
other kids in the neighborhood. I sat on the couch and stared out the window as 
I watched the kids in the street having snowball fights, building snowmen and 
sliding around on their sleds. I couldn't go outside and join the other kids 
since I had no pants to wear. They were all in the washing machine, for one 
thing.
	While Amy was to see to it that I did not go into the bathroom, I had 
another reinforcement applied to me. Before my mother left for the supermarket 
she bound my hands with some wide mailing tape. She had me put my hands behind 
my back while she ran the tape around my wrists about six times. Now I could not 
remove my diapers and use the toilet if I needed to, and right now I needed to 
poop as the laxative was taking effect. I tried to keep myself from pooping my 
diapers since I knew that once I pooped them I would have to wear the diapers 
that way for several hours before anyone changed me.
	I couldn't hold my bowel movement for very much longer and the pain and 
pressure was building in my intestines. I felt so helpless as I shit into my 
diapers and also peed in them as well. My thick diapers drew the wetness into 
their fabric and they also held in the large, messy volume of wet poop in the 
back. While I felt wet and messy on the inside of my diapers, the outside showed 
no indication that I had done anything in them. Until it became obvious that I 
needed to be changed, my diapers would be left alone.
	The afternoon seemed to pass so slowly. I couldn't play with any of my 
toys since my hands were restrained. I alternated between watching TV with my 
sister and looking outside to see if it was still snowing. The winter solstice 
was bringing an early end to the afternoon daylight as my mother finally got 
home at that time. By then I had peed some more into my diapers and I also 
dumped out another large, smelly pile of poop that was squished and packed into 
the rear of my diapers for much of the day. They had started leaking out the 
rear and into the plastic pants. I couldn't wait to be changed out of my messy 
diapers, but I had to wait awhile longer as my mother brought in the groceries 
she bought along with the other purchases she made.
	"How's Johnny doing in his diapers?" Mom asked Amy.
	"He's doing fine. He can't do much about it with his hands all taped up! 
He's been really smelly for awhile."
	"Well, let's get him changed," Mom said as she looked at the brown liquid 
that had seeped into my plastic pants. "It looks like that laxative really did 
its job!"
	At long last I was going to be changed out of my well- used diapers and my 
bottom would be wiped clean of the poop that was smeared onto my buttocks all 
day long. This time Amy was going to learn how to change my diapers, so Mom told 
her to watch her diaper me.
	Mom faced the rather unsavory task of cleaning up my mess. Poop was 
splattered everywhere around my buttocks as I lay there on the changing pad with 
my hands still taped behind my back. I felt Mom using some old rags to wipe up 
the excess poop first and then use baby wipes to clean up the rest of the big 
mess. After I was finally cleaned up Mom got more diapers ready. She powdered up 
my genitals and my butt, which gave me an embarrassing erection, much to my 
sister's amusement. Mom proceeded with diapering me and she explained out loud 
to Amy what she was doing. Just like she had done before, she prepared a double 
set of diapers and pinned them up around my waist.
	"Make sure they're pinned on really tight," Mom said as she grabbed the 
plastic pants and started pulling then up past my loins.
	Mom then went into the bathroom to wash her hands before she started 
dinner. While she was cooking she got stuck on the phone talking to her sister 
Margaret, who called to confirm their plans to arrive tomorrow evening. I had 
been worrying all along about how my cousins Derek and Bobby would react when 
they saw me in diapers, not to mention my Aunt Margaret. I was most concerned 
about Derek, who was twelve years old. He had Attention Deficit Disorder and he 
often acted up at the worst times. Bobby was the same age as I, eight years old. 
He was quite intelligent, but he was also very shy and he didn't talk much, so 
it was difficult to tell what he was thinking. My mother told Aunt Margaret 
about me wearing diapers so she and the boys wouldn't be so surprised when they 
showed up and saw me wearing them.
	The phone conversation lasted long enough for my mother to finish dinner 
and serve it. The laxative was still working in my system and I discharged yet 
another large load of poop into my diapers. I was once again waiting to be 
changed and my skin was itching, but my mother wanted me to eat first since I 
would have to get undiapered and take a bath after dinner anyway. At least my 
hands were cut out of their tape restraints by this time.
	I still had to wait for my mother to take care of one more job before 
changing me out of my soiled diapers. While she was out shopping she purchased a 
replacement door knob for the bathroom. This one required a key to open it so I 
would not be able to go into the bathroom to use the toilet. Only my mother and 
sister would have keys. Within minutes she had the knob in place. Amy was handed 
one of the two keys that came with the new doorknob while the mother kept the 
other one. I complained about being locked out of the bathroom and I whined 
about the way I was being treated, especially with getting my hands taped up.
	"That's why I got the locking door knob," my mother said. "Would you 
rather have your hands taped behind your back again?"
	"No," I answered without hesitation.
	After Mom took my dirty diapers off she left me naked as she escorted me 
into the bathroom. I watched my mother insert her key to the bathroom door, a 
vivid reminder to me that my diaper-wearing would be strongly enforced. My 
mother drew some bath water for me and then supervised me as I sat on the tub 
and got myself cleaned up. While I was bathing, my Mom told me that she or Amy 
would have to accompany me when I needed to use the bathroom to brush my teeth 
or take a bath.
	After I finished my bath my mother dried me off and took me out into the 
front room again and put more diapers on me. Amy watched again as Mom 
demonstrated each step, again placing emphasis on the diapers being tight and 
snug so they wouldn't leak. At least now I didn't have to worry about waking up 
in a wet bed tomorrow morning. My thick diapers and huge, but tight-fitting 
plastic pants assured me that my bed sheets would remain dry no matter how much 
I wet.
	I woke up on the next morning to discover that I wet overnight, making it 
two consecutive nights of having wet in bed, something which hadn't happened to 
me since last summer. I felt my wet diaper clinging to my tender skin. I reached 
down underneath my bottom and I felt the bed sheet. It was completely dry for 
once! It felt so much different to me to have my wetting contained in a thick 
set of diapers sheathed by plastic instead of wet, cold underpants and bed 
sheets. I wasn't ready to admit it, but now I liked having diapers on and I 
favored getting my diapers wet instead of my bed. I was just concerned about the 
relatives that were coming for Christmas and seeing me in diapers. Aunt Margaret 
and cousins Bobby and Derek were due to arrive later that day and they would be 
staying until the day after Christmas.
	I was changed into another set of double diapers before my mother left for 
work that morning. She reminded Amy to check on me periodically and change me 
when I needed it. As Mom went out the door she carried a large plastic bag that 
contained my pants and underwear, destined for the Salvation Army.
	During the day I wet my diapers a number of times and I also pooped in 
them heavily. Amy could tell from the odor that I needed to be changed, so she 
told me to get on the changing pad on the floor.
	"No!" I refused. "I won't let you change me!"
	"Gee, you'd think I'd never seen you naked before!" my sister said 
sardonically. "If you don't let me change you, you'll have to wait until Mom 
gets home from work!"
	"I can wait," I said.
	"You wanna go that long in poopy diapers, that's fine with me!" Amy told 
me. "You're the one who has to smell and wear stinky diapers all day long!"
	I was willing to wait out the long afternoon and endure the feeling of my 
poop squishing around in the back of my diapers, anything to avoid putting 
myself in such a compromising position as having my sister change my diapers. 
Amy stayed away from me to avoid having to smell my strong odors.
	When Mom came home from work later that evening she expected Amy to have 
changed my diapers at least once, but when Mom removed them, she could tell that 
they had been on me all day long and were in a long overdue need of changing.
	"Didn't Amy change you today?" Mom asked me as she pulled away the 
drenched and soiled diapers.
	"I don't want her to change me!" I protested.
	"Amy is the only other one here who can change you when I am gone!" Mom 
said. "I think now would be a good time for her to get a chance to change you!"
	"No!" I cried. "I'd rather you do it, Mom!"
	My mother ignored me and instead went to Amy to bring her out to the front 
room. Amy came out from her bedroom and walked up to me. I was lying naked on 
the floor with my dirty butt still in need of wiping.
	"Wipe his butt!" the mother said to Amy. "Wipe it good!"
	"He's gross! He stinks!" she exclaimed.
	"I'd get used to it, Amy," Mom told her. "He's going to be like that a 
lot. And someday you'll have a baby of your own to take care of, so this will be 
good practice for you!"
	Amy knelt down and stared at the big pile of poop that I dumped into my 
diapers as they laid loose beneath my crap- covered bottom. She squeamishly 
winced as she took an old washcloth which was designated for use with my messy 
diaper changes. She held her nose while trying to clean up my behind single-
handedly. Amy acknowledged her need to become accustomed to this vile chore and 
accepted her duty to perform it. Slowly, but surely, Amy got my butt wiped clean 
and ready to cover up in thick diapers again.
	"The worst part is over," Mom said to Amy, standing over her to watch her. 
"Now comes the fun part!"
	"You mean, *diapering* him?" she smiled.
	"Of course, Amy."
	Mom had gotten the other four diapers from the washroom and handed them 
down to her. She grabbed two of them and folded them together as she had watched 
her mother do a couple of times. She looked back at her mother, who nodded her 
head to gesture to Amy that she was doing it right.
	Amy stopped for a moment and looked at me right in the face and smiled. I 
was so embarrassed and uncomfortable having to let my sister work her hands 
around such an intimate and sensitive section of my anatomy exclusive to my 
gender. I tried not to have an erection, but I just couldn't control it as my 
penis stood straight up.
	She went back over to the two diapers she had folded together and then 
before she put them underneath my bum she stopped again, noting the other two 
diapers that were remaining. She gave me a wry smile and then grabbed the other 
two diapers.
	"Can I put more than two diapers on him?" she asked Mom.
	"It'll be awfully thick on him if you do," Mom replied. "but I guess it 
doesn't matter since it's all he'll be wearing for awhile. Besides, he doesn't 
seem to mind wearing wet and dirty diapers for long periods, so we might as well 
start diapering him more heavily!"
	Amy added the other two diapers to the set before she stuffed the fluffy, 
thick stack of white cloth beneath me. I obediently set my rear end on the 
ample, soft materials before Amy drew them up over my stomach. She locked three 
of the large pins into each side of my quadruple diapers and then she covered up 
the diapers with my plastic pants. They were stretched tightly by the bulging 
volume of cloth packed inside of them, but they were still able to fit.
	Amy watched me toddle off to my bedroom, looking at how much diapering she 
wrapped over my butt. She felt so proud as she looked at how well she diapered 
me for the first time. Mom, too, was also proud of Amy's innately proficient 
diapering abilities.
	"You're a natural, Amy," Mom lauded her.
	"Those diapers ought to last through tomorrow," Amy said to Mom.
	"Probably, but we'll still need to check on him," Mom replied.

'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 4
--------------------------------------

	Later that evening Aunt Margaret and her boys arrived. I sat in my room, 
cringing and crying, knowing what humiliation I had yet to face. I stayed in my 
room for as long as I could to avoid being seen in diapers, but I knew that 
sooner or later I would have to come out and greet the guests. I heard the 
doorbell ring and I listened to the commotion of voices and everyone's baggage 
being carted into the house.
	Minutes later my mother came to my bedroom and told me to come out and 
help my cousins carry their bags in.
	"But I can't be seen like this!" I whimpered as I looked down at layer 
upon bulging layer of cloth in my crotch. My mother wasn't going to let me 
embarrass her like this, so she grabbed my wrist and literally dragged me out of 
my room.
	"No. Mom! No!"
	"Johnny! You are making even more of a scene! Now come on!"
	"But..."
	My mother scooted me through the hall and pushed me out into the living 
room. I stood still and felt my body freeze as a surge of adrenaline shot 
through my veins. As I made my initial appearance in my diapers, my cousin Derek 
started laughing. Bobby, however, stood still with a blank stare as he looked at 
me. I fled across the living room and hid behind the chair. My mother went after 
me.
	"Johnny! Get out from there! Stop hiding behind the chair!"
	"But, Mom!"
	Having no patience, she grabbed me and pulled me up by my arms. I was 
kicking my bare legs and making a spectacle of myself as my mother sat down and 
held me with my hands locked in her arms.
	"I'm sorry about his behavior," Mom apologized to her sister Margaret. "I 
told you that he's in diapers now, so I'd get used to seeing him this way."
	"I didn't think that was all he would be wearing," Aunt Margaret replied. 
"But I would do the same thing to my boys if they kept having accidents!"
	Bobby turned to my mother and looked at her. He asked, "do you mean that, 
Mom?"
	"Of course I mean it!" she replied firmly. "You think I'd put up with your 
wet and dirty underpants? It's bad enough you boys don't wipe!"
	"I thought only babies wore diapers!" Derek said.
	"You'd be surprised, Derek," his mother replied.
	"He looks like a doofus standing there in diapers!" Derek said. I buried 
my face in my hands as a wave of shame came over me. "And geez, aren't they on 
him just a little thick?"
	Everyone brought their belongings into the house everyone got settled down 
for the evening. Derek needed to use the bathroom right away and he was the 
first to find out that he couldn't enter it without a key.
	"What the hell?" he said as he tried to turn the locked knob on the 
bathroom door.
	"Derek!" his mother scolded. "Don't say that word!"
	"But this door is locked and I need to go to the bathroom!" he exclaimed, 
trying to force open the unyielding door. My mother handed Derek her bathroom 
key and explained to everyone that the door had a lock on it to keep me out of 
the bathroom so I would have to use my diapers whenever I needed to pee or poop.
	"If you need to go to the bathroom, come to Amy or me for a key," Mom 
said.
	"This is stupid!" Derek complained as he opened the door.
	Right behind Derek, Amy was waiting to use the bathroom. Just to be 
spiteful, Derek closed the door on her so she would have to re-open it herself.
	"Oh, I suppose you need a key!" Derek mocked as he returned to the 
bathroom door and handed it to Amy.
	"No thanks, I got my own key!" she said as she grabbed her key from her 
pocket and waved it in Derek's face before she opened the bathroom door. Before 
she even closed the door again she hollered and complained to Derek for getting 
pee on the floor, leaving the seat up and not flushing the toilet.
	"Derek!" Aunt Margaret scolded him. "I'm ashamed of you!"
	"I wanted to go to Dad's house for Christmas!" Derek moped. Derek and 
Bobby had also endured watching their parents go through a divorce early this 
year and they were both close to their father.
	"That's no excuse to make a mess in the bathroom!" Aunt Margaret scolded 
him some more. She then said, "Maybe *you* should wear diapers if you keep doing 
that!"
	"No!" Derek protested.
	"All right, then you'd better behave!"
	All evening long I felt very uncomfortable having my two cousins and my 
Aunt Margaret seeing me in diapers now. Bobby kept quiet about it while Derek 
kept harassing me. He called me names and he was talking to me in a baby-talk 
voice. I fought back and told Derek to shut up several times. When the tension 
escalated to a hitting fight, Aunt Margaret intervened.
	"Enough, Derek!" his mother shouted. "I don't want to hear another word 
about Johnny wearing diapers!"
	Derek was known to test his limits and often times he pushed things too 
far and dealt with the consequences of his defiant behavior, which was often a 
hard spanking. In spite of his mother's warning, Derek continued to tease me for 
wearing diapers.
	His mother got up and grabbed him. Derek fought to get away from her, but 
she was too strong for his aggressiveness to break him free. She dragged him 
over to the chair in which she was sitting and then she reached for the zipper 
on his pants. She unfastened his pants and took them down to his ankles. Next 
she pulled his underpants down. To add to Derek's embarrassment, his underwear 
contained a highly visible swath of unwiped fecal matter in the seat, its brown 
color contrasting against the white fabric of his briefs.
	"Don't spank me, Mom!" Derek cried. "Not in front of everyone!"
	It wasn't the first time Derek was spanked in front of other family 
members, but this didn't help to make getting spanked any less painful. His 
mother's hand started slamming down on his behind. Derek cried loudly and begged 
for his mother to stop. His howls rang throughout the house and Bobby and I were 
both frightened by the scene, so we fled for my bedroom. Inside the room with 
the door closed we could still hear my Aunt Margaret's hand striking Derek's 
behind repeatedly along with his helpless bawling.
	While we were in my room I was squatting down on the floor. Bobby pointed 
to my crotch and he said, "boy, you sure wear lots of diapers!" I didn't say 
anything as I continued to listen to Aunt Margaret's hand slapping Derek's butt. 
Her method of spanking involved waiting several seconds between each swat to 
prolong the spanking. Finally the spanking stopped and Bobby and I returned to 
see what had happened. We stood at the end of the hall to look.
	Derek's behind was painted deep red. He was left crying for several 
minutes with his pants and his underwear still down. After his crying subsided, 
Aunt Margaret stripped off his pants and underwear completely. She folded them 
up and handed them to my Mom. Derek was forced to stand naked in front of Aunt 
Margaret along with Amy and Mom.
	"Why are you taking my pants away?" Derek whimpered to my Mom.
	"Your mother wants to put you in diapers for your behavior!" she said.
	"Mom!" Derek cried as he looked as his mother. "Why? What did I do?"
	"Since you can't stop making a big deal out of Johnny wearing diapers, 
Derek, then by having you wear them, you'll be just like Johnny and you won't 
have any reason to torment him about it!"
	Bobby and I trotted back to my bedroom as my mother approached the 
hallway. She came through the door shortly after we had entered the room. She 
then grabbed four diapers and a pair of plastic pants from what used to be my 
underwear drawer. She also grabbed a handful of the big diaper pins. Pretending 
like I hadn't known what was going on, I asked Mom, "Are you changing me now?"
	"Not yet," she said.
	"What are getting my diapers out for?" I asked, even though I knew the 
answer, which was, "they're for Derek!" I couldn't help but to be tempted to 
watch what would happen, so I left my room and followed her. Bobby got up and 
joined me. Once again we stood at the end of the hall as we watched Derek get 
diapered up. Derek was trying to get away, but my Mom held down his ankles and 
Aunt Margaret held down his arms. Amy got the job of diapering him. She stacked 
the four diapers together and pinned them up high and tight around Derek's body. 
Derek had given up his fight by this time and he allowed Amy to pull the plastic 
pants up over his diapers without showing any resistance.
	Derek began to cry some more and he apologized for his behavior and 
promised he wouldn't say another word about me wearing diapers. Aunt Margaret 
wasn't going to back down and trust Derek to suddenly mend his ways. She would 
make Derek stay in diapers for at least the rest of the night.
	Bobby had been looking at me going around in his diapers all evening and 
he became curious what it would be like if he were wearing diapers, too. He had 
isolated himself in thoughts of fantasies of being in his brother Derek's place 
that evening, minus the spanking. He imagined himself being on the floor getting 
all that wonderfully fluffy thick cloth-- white as the new fallen snow outside-- 
wrapped and pinned around his waist. He wanted to know what it felt like to pee 
and poop into such thick diapers.
	Now with both Derek and me diapered up, Bobby became jealous. He felt left 
out by not being in diapers like Derek and me. Bobby thought of repeating his 
brother's act and teasing me for wearing diapers, but his shyness prevented him 
from doing this. He also didn't want to risk getting spanked and endure the 
stinging pain that he knew would linger for hours afterward. He thought of 
asking me to diaper him after we were sent to bed, but again, Bobby felt too 
reserved to make such a request. He didn't feel comfortable about asking Derek 
to do it.
	About an hour later Derek complained that his diapers were wet and he 
needed to have them taken off- he didn't ask to be *changed*-- but he wanted the 
diapers to be removed from him altogether. Aunt Margaret examined the front of 
his diapers and determined that he was still a long ways from needing a change.
	"You have a lot more wetting to do, Derek," his mother said as she patted 
the front of his diapers. "Those diapers can take quite a bit more!"
	Just before bedtime, I was changed out of my wet and poopy diapers. My 
mother decided to continue Amy's practice of diapering me in quadruple-thick 
diapers. She took this a step further and doubled up my plastic pants, too. 
Before we were sent to bed, my mother asked Bobby if he needed to go to the 
bathroom first, reminding him that this would be his last chance until tomorrow 
morning. Derek and I, of course, were not expected to use the toilet and we were 
sent straight to bed.
	"I don't want you running to me asking for a key to the bathroom in the 
middle of the night!" my Mom warned Bobby.
	"Or me!" Amy added. "Because I won't give you one!"
	Bobby needed to pee, but rather than use the bathroom, he told my mother 
and his mother that he didn't need to go. He wanted to save his pee for wetting 
into diapers later on, hoping he could muster up the courage to ask me to put 
some on him.
	"Well, do you need to go?" Bobby's mother asked him once more.
	He hesitated and then said, "no."
	"Are you sure?" Aunt Margaret asked.
	"Yes!" Bobby replied adamantly.
	"Okay, then it's off to bed!"
	Bobby gave his mother a goodnight kiss and then he trotted off to my 
bedroom. He stripped off his pants and shirt and left his underpants on. They 
showed visible signs of poor wiping as the skid marks in the seat indicated. He 
put on a loose white T-shirt and then he hopped into my bed. We three boys were 
crammed together like sardines as we all shared my bed, even though my bed was a 
double, thank goodness.
	Very little was said among us as we fought for the covers and tried to get 
comfortable and get to sleep. Bobby wasn't very talkative and Derek was still 
upset from the way he had been treated. Bobby lay awake as he kept thinking 
about asking me to put diapers on him. He was afraid that I would fall asleep on 
him and he would have to go through the night wishing he had diapers on. He also 
felt his bladder muscles straining to hold back his pee. It was too late for him 
to get up and go to the bathroom now.
	Finally, he propped himself up and gave me a light nudge.
	"Are you still awake?" Bobby whispered.
	"Yeah, I am," I replied.
	Another minute or so passed silently. Bobby stared out the window through 
the spaces in the window blinds and watched the snow flakes gently falling in 
the glow of the street light. He must have thought to himself, "now or never, 
this is it," and then he prepared to ask me to diaper him.
	"Can I ask you to do something?" Bobby stammered nervously.
	"Sure, what is it?" I inquired.
	I lay still for several seconds and said nothing
	"What is it?" I asked again.
	Bobby felt so anxious. He already had one foot in the door, so to speak, 
and he couldn't allow himself to turn back. He was hesitant to say the word 
"diaper."
	"I wanna wear...uh, you know, your, your under...wear, you know, the kind 
of underwear...that you wear, Johnny."
	Bobby thought that Derek had fallen asleep by this time. He was surprised 
when Derek suddenly spoke up.
	"He's saying he'd like to wear your diapers, Johnny!" Derek said loudly.
	"Would you like to put one on?" I offered to Bobby.
	First there was a brief pause, and then Bobby said, "Uh, yeah. But can 
you, uh... help me with it?"
	"Do you really want to wear a diaper?" I asked Bobby, just to be sure this 
was what he was wanting.
	 "Y-yes," he answered.
	"You might as well," I said. "Then all of us will be in diapers."
	"Whoopee," Derek replied sarcastically. "I wanna take this damn thing off! 
It's itching!"
	I got up from my bed and turned the light on. I opened my diaper drawer 
and handed Bobby a diaper and some pins.
	"Well, put it on!" I said to Bobby.
	"I uh, don't know how," Bobby uttered sheepishly. "so I want you to do it 
instead."
	"My Mom and my sister always put them on me," I said. "I've never put my 
own diapers on."
	"Can you try?" Bobby asked.
	I had already learned enough from watching my mother and sister diaper me 
and, upon my observations, I agreed to help Bobby into diapers.
	"Can I wear a whole bunch of diapers at a time like you wear?" Bobby 
asked. He didn't stammer this time and he was getting more comfortable with 
expressing his wish to wear diapers. He even said the word "diaper."
	I returned to my diaper drawer and retrieved three more diapers along with 
a pair of plastic pants. I laid them down in a stack on the floor and then I 
told Bobby to take his underwear off. Just as Bobby felt himself shedding his 
inhibitions about wearing diapers, he suddenly became embarrassed about exposing 
his penis to me, and he was even more embarrassed that he had a hard-on. Slowly, 
he pulled off his underwear and revealed his stiff little dick.
	He sat down on the pile of diapers and then I pulled the ends of the 
diapers together and tried to fasten the pins. I didn't get the diapers pinned 
on Bobby as tightly as my mother and sister were capable of doing, but Bobby was 
quite comfortable nonetheless. The warm, soft fabric in his crotch excited him 
and his young peter attained its fullest erection yet.
	Bobby was able to put the plastic pants on by himself, though he had to 
struggle to get the waistband to go over the bulging white fabric. I helped him 
and pulled his plastic pants up even higher, eliminating the slack that had been 
folded down a couple inches below the top of the diapers.
	"These feel so good!" Bobby said gleefully.
	"Wait'll they're wet and your balls start to itch," Derek complained. 
"Then tell me they feel good."
	I got up and turned the light back off before returning to bed. Bobby lay 
still, readying himself to let loose his pee. He anticipated the warm, wet 
feeling that peeing in his diapers would produce. He let out a small trickle of 
urine. It splashed up towards the top of his diapers and trickled back down into 
the cloth. He let out a few more spurts of pee, uncertain of how well his 
diapers would absorb it. Assured that there was lots of cloth between his body 
and his plastic pants, he let out more and he flooded his diapers. The warm 
liquid drenched the inner layers of his diapers and coated his tender skin. It 
trickled back towards his butt and soaked into the crotch.
	After Bobby stopped peeing in his diapers he said, "I can't believe what 
I'm doing! Now I have a wet diaper on and I'll have to wear it the rest of the 
night!"
	"See? I told you so!" Derek exclaimed.
	For the rest of the night Bobby worried about how to change out of his 
diapers in the morning without his mother or anyone else knowing he was wearing 
them. The dampness of his diapers lingered and irritated his skin. Eventually 
Bobby fell asleep in spite of his discomfort.
	Derek was unable to sleep in his wet diapers, so he took them off in the 
middle of the night while Bobby and I were asleep. Derek got up from the bed and 
removed the pins, then he let the sodden diapers drop to the floor. He groped 
around in the dark to locate his bag of clothing. He blindly rooted through the 
bag for a pair of underpants and then he put a pair on to replace the diapers he 
had been wearing. He climbed back into bed and went to sleep.

'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 5
--------------------------------------

	Christmas Eve morning had arrived. Mom had already left for work and she 
was going to come home early as she had always done on Christmas Eve. Aunt 
Margaret was home with us that day to baby-sit. Bobby and Derek were both still 
asleep when I got up and joined Amy at the breakfast table. Shortly after I 
finished the breakfast Aunt Margaret served me, Derek woke up and was about to 
take his place at the table. Before Derek even got a chance to sit down, Aunt 
Margaret confronted him about the fact that he had his pants on. There was no 
way he could have gotten his pants on over the diapers he should have been 
wearing.
	"Derek!" she demanded. "What happened to the diapers you were wearing last 
night?"
	"I took them off," he answered as he pulled up a chair.
	"You were to leave them on!" his mother reminded him.
	"But they were wet and itchy!" Derek complained.
	"Now you know how Johnny feels, or do you? I think you need to wear them a 
little longer."
	"No! I'm not wearing diapers!" Derek hollered.
	"Just for that little outburst, not only am I putting you back in diapers, 
but I'm giving you a bi-i-i-g spanking!"
	Derek got up from the table and he tried to run away, but Aunt Margaret 
grabbed him in the living room. She took him over to the couch and she yanked 
his pants down, then his underwear. Within seconds he was over his mother's knee 
with his bare bottom sticking up, still showing signs of redness from the last 
spanking he got, and now his rear end was about to be reddened once again.
	 "No, Mom! Don't spank me!" Derek pleaded, his words interrupted by his 
howling from each stinging swat. "It's almost Christmas!"
	"That it is," his mother said as she stopped. "And you have been a bad boy 
this year, Derek!"
	I retreated to my bedroom, or at least I pretended that I did. I felt 
scared to watch Aunt Margaret spank Derek again, but at the same time I felt 
compelled to watch. I stood at the end of the hall and peeked out to the living 
room where I saw Aunt Margaret spanking Derek some more. After seeing the 
horrified look of Derek's face and hearing his piercing screams, I couldn't bear 
to watch or listen any longer, so I quickly dashed into my bedroom. As I 
entered, Bobby was sitting up and wide awake.
	"What's going on out there?" Bobby asked as I shut the door behind me.
	"Derek got in trouble for taking off his diapers," I replied.
	"I don't know what to do about *my* diapers!" Bobby whined. "Mom will 
spank me for wearing them!"
	"After she spanks Derek for *not* wearing them?" I asked.
	"But he was *supposed* to wear his, and I wasn't! I gotta take these 
diapers off, now!"
	"So take them off!"
	"But what do I do with them?" Bobby whimpered.
	"Stash 'em! I'll sneak 'em out later!" I suggested.
	"Oh, no!" he exclaimed as he looked down at his crotch. It was saturated 
with pee, much of it which had come from leakage. Bobby's diapers had been 
pinned on too loosely and a large gap had formed between the diapers and his 
body, allowing much of the urine to spill into the plastic pants and then onto 
the mattress of my bed.
	"I got your bed wet!" Bobby exclaimed.
	"It's not the first time," I admitted. "I have a rubber liner underneath, 
anyway."
	Bobby got out of the bed and started removing his plastic pants. The pool 
of urine that had collected in the crotch of the plastic pants spilled onto the 
carpet. Just then Bobby and I heard Derek coming back to my bedroom crying his 
head off. As the door opened, Bobby was surprised to see that his mother was 
also there with him.
	 "Bobby!" his mother exclaimed. "What are *you* doing in diapers?!"
	Bobby stood frozen and paralyzed with fear as his mother stared at him. 
His plastic pants were pulled down a little ways from when he began removing 
them. He didn't know what to say to his mother.
	"Why are you wearing diapers, Bobby?" his mother asked again, demanding an 
explanation.
	"Because Johnny and Derek were wearing them," Bobby answered slowly.
	"So you thought you should be wearing them, too, is that I'm getting 
here?" his mother asked.
	"Uh, huh," Bobby uttered.
	Aunt Margaret went up to Bobby and looked at how loosely his diaper was 
pinned on and allowing such a wide gap to form.
	"Obviously you put these diapers on yourself!" she said.
	"Actually, Johnny did it," Bobby said.
	"Johnny, I'd leave the diapering up to your mother and sister for awhile," 
Aunt Margaret advised me as she began removing the pins.
	"And you've used them, I see, Bobby," his mother noted when she removed 
Bobby's diapers and saw that he had wet in them. "Did you wet them overnight?" 
she asked.
	"I did it after I went to bed," Bobby answered.
	"After you were asked if you needed to use the bathroom?"
	"Uh, huh," Bobby confessed. He could sense from the tone of his mother's 
voice and the look of her face that he was about to get into trouble, too. She 
sat down and took Bobby over her knee and began spanking him, too. As she sat 
down on the bed she felt the wet spot from where Bobby's diapers had leaked from 
being on too loose.
	"You even got Johnny's bed wet!" she exclaimed. "And now I'll have to 
change my pants!" This incident earned Bobby a few more spankings than he would 
have originally gotten. I stayed in my room in spite of the unpleasantness of 
watching Aunt Margaret come down so hard on Bobby. Perhaps I stayed to watch 
because it made me feel good not to be the one getting spanked, kind of like the 
feeling I get watching a scary movie. Derek was forced to stay in my room and 
watch his brother get spanked. Derek's underpants were still off of him and he 
was naked from his waist down.
	Watching his brother get spanked was almost as bad to Derek as he knew 
that this was how he looked and sounded when his mother did the same thing to 
him. Derek was forced to witness the grimaced look on Bobby's face and watch his 
tears drip off of his face and to the floor. He had to listen to Bobby's 
anguished cries for mercy while his mother continued to spank him more.
	While Bobby was left to cry off his spanking, Derek was pinned back into 
the same diapers that he had taken off from the previous night. They were still 
damp in the crotch and the wetness felt cold against Derek's skin. His body heat 
helped to warm up the wet fabric a little, but the wetness itself lingered, and 
more of it would be added as Derek was needing to pee again.
	"I was going to take them off of you this morning," Aunt Margaret said to 
Derek, "but since you took them off yourself, I'm going to make you wear them 
all day today! In fact, I may just decided to keep you in them until you decide 
to straighten up your act!" Aunt Margaret then called Bobby over to her as it 
was his turn to be diapered. After Bobby had a chance to cry off the hard 
lashings he got, Aunt Margaret went to my diaper drawer and pulled out four more 
diapers, which were the last ones that were still clean. She stacked them up and 
made Bobby sit on them. As she wiped his butt dry he winced in pain from the 
spanking. She applied some powder and some lotion, which helped to alleviate the 
swelling, stinging agony of his beaten buttocks. In spite of his upset feelings, 
Bobby's penis stood straight up and as stiff as it could be as his mother 
started diapering him. She pinned up each layer individually and she had to use 
the rest of the diaper pins to do it. She wanted Bobby to wear his diapers 
really tight so he would get a better idea of how they're supposed to fit and 
feel.
	"They're too tight!" Bobby whimpered.
	"That's how they're supposed to be, Bobby," his mother said. "I just 
wanted you to know how they're really supposed to feel after you've worn them 
that way for several hours."
	The afternoon seemed to pass so slowly. We all stared out the front window 
and watched the snow falling. We wanted to go outside and play in it with all 
the other kids who must have been having a good time out there. Aunt Margaret 
refused to take us out of our diapers and give us our pants.
	Aunt Margaret served us some bean and bacon soup and sandwiches for lunch. 
She also made us help her with some of the household chores, including laundry. 
Aunt Margaret started with my shirts and then she put my diapers in the wash 
after letting them soak for awhile. All of us boys were stuck inside the house 
all day long with nothing to wear but our shirts and lots of thick diapers. 
Bobby and I played together for much of the day. We both sat in the living room 
and played with my Legos, Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars, which were Bobby's 
favorite toys as well as mine. Derek just sat in front of the TV and moped, 
complaining about having to wear wet diapers all day. Later on he got up and 
asked Aunt Margaret if she could take his diapers off since he needed to poop.
	"What for?" Aunt Margaret asked him. "Isn't that what your diapers are 
for?"
	"But it'll be all messy and stinky!" Derek complained.
	"Well, Derek, that comes with the territory when you're in diapers!" Aunt 
Margaret said. "I'm definitely not going to take your diapers off just so you 
can poop; it defeats the whole purpose of making you wear them! Besides, there 
are no clean diapers left and you'll have to wait until more of them have been 
washed."
	Derek tried to hold back his bowel movement. He attempted to employ the 
heel-sitting trick that I had used a number of times in class and in other 
places where I didn't want to use the available facilities and stink them up. 
His diapers were much too thick for heel-sitting to be effective. He stood up 
and tried to cross his legs, but he couldn't do anything to tighten his buttocks 
with all those thick diapers on him.
	After several more minutes of straining his sphincter muscles, Derek gave 
up the fight to hold back his poop and he dropped a big shit into the back of 
his diapers, at least it sounded big. He was so heavily diapered up like Bobby 
and me and there was no visual way to tell what he had done in them. He let out 
a juicy fart whose sound was muted by his diapers, but they didn't do much to 
mute the smell in spite of their thickness. Everything smelled bad enough in the 
house since we were farting all afternoon long from the bean soup we were 
served.
	Mom came home early from work that afternoon as it was Christmas Eve. She 
and Aunt Margaret went out to do some last-minute Christmas shopping before all 
the stores closed. Aunt Margaret mentioned that she needed to pick up some more 
gifts for her boys. Given her present disposition towards their behavior, I had 
to wonder what she intended to get them.
	While Mom and Aunt Margaret were out shopping, Mom called to remind Amy to 
transfer the diapers in the washing machine over to the dryer and to tell her 
that they would be home soon. I looked at the Caller ID display on the phone and 
I noted the name of the place from which Mom had called. It was a place where I 
knew diapers for older children and adults were sold. I had a feeling that Aunt 
Margaret was buying some diapers for Derek and Bobby. Now I had learned that the 
diapers I had supposedly gotten from "Santa Claus" were really from Mom. Santa 
Claus still hadn't yet to come to our house, and now I knew Santa would still 
bring me toys after all! I didn't tell Bobby or Derek what they would probably 
be getting for Christmas. I thought I'd let them find out tomorrow when they 
ripped open their packages, which is how most Christmas presents are supposed to 
work, anyway.
	After Mom and Aunt Margaret returned from their shopping we finally got 
our diapers changed. Mom worked on changing mine while Aunt Margaret went to 
work on Derek and would change Bobby into his diapers afterward. Since Derek was 
forced to wear the same wet diapers he had on since last night, she decided to 
change him first. Bobby was sent to the laundry room to get the diapers out of 
the dryer and bring them back into the room. I could hear Amy helping him get 
the diapers for him. As Bobby returned with a tall pile of diapers stacked in 
his arms, he exclaimed, "They're warm!"
	Amy had followed him into the room and she offered to change Bobby. Aunt 
Margaret said, "go right ahead, dear. Then we can all relax and have dinner 
sooner."
	Bobby showed no objections to having Amy change his diapers. In fact, he 
was showing a slight smile as Amy set him on the bed and laid him down. She 
reached around his waist and pulled off his plastic pants and then she removed 
the pins that had been keeping his diapers up so tightly around him all day. As 
Bobby had only wet his diapers-- albeit quite heavily-- Amy didn't have a messy 
butt to deal with. She just wiped his skin dry and applied some more powder and 
lotion. She was careful to avoid hurting his tender skin which was still 
sensitive from the spanking.
	She took four diapers from the stack Bobby brought in the room, and then 
she layered the four diapers together. Bobby's little erection was sticking up 
as he watched Amy slide the diapers underneath him. She pulled the diapers far 
up into his crotch and she fastened them on him using lots of pins. She handed 
Bobby a pair of plastic pants which he put on himself.
	As Derek and I both pooped in our diapers, Mom and Aunt Margaret were 
spending more time on us while Amy had already finished diapering Bobby. While 
Mom was busy wiping up my bottom I turned my head and looked at Derek. His 
bottom was so heavily soiled and the smell of his messy butt overshadowed the 
odors of my own dirty diapers. Derek looked really embarrassed that I was 
watching him get diapered up again. I could tell he didn't want me to stare at 
him, but I couldn't help it, especially seeing how large of a hard-on his nearly 
pubescent penis was capable of producing. He gave me a cold stare and said, 
"quit looking at it!"
	"He won't have anything to look at now," Aunt Margaret said as she pulled 
the diapers over his erection and concealed it from view. His diapers were too 
thick to tell he had such a big boner underneath them.
	As Mom pulled the diapers up into my crotch I felt their fresh-out-of-the-
dryer warmth, which was a feeling I had enjoyed before with putting on 
underpants that had just finished drying. With diapers the sensation was much 
more pleasing, especially since Mom put them on me more tightly this time and 
she used more pins than before.
	After we had dinner and watched some Christmas movies on TV we went to 
bed. This time Bobby was not offered a chance to use the bathroom. The three of 
us climbed into my bed. Our bare legs were rubbing against each other as were 
our diapered butts. I got the middle of the bed and I was stuck in between Bobby 
and Derek, both of whom who had their cold feet pressing up against me.
	As it was Christmas Eve, none of us were able to sleep, though we all 
anticipated Christmas Day differently than most other kids who were dreaming of 
being showered with the toys they had wished for. All I wanted to know is if I 
would still get any toys and not just more diapers.
	The night seemed to drag on. It was snowing again as I stared out the 
window and watched it against the street light. I kept listening for Santa's 
sleigh to make its landing on our rooftop, but all I could hear were my two 
cousins breathing on each side of me, plus some occasional, diaper-muffled farts 
left over from today's lunch.
	Just as I had finally gotten comfortable and was ready to fall asleep, 
Derek awakened me. He had scooted his body to the far edge of the bed. He was 
moving his arm back and forth, enough to shake the bed. At first I thought he 
was just scratching an itch, but he kept it up for several minutes. I asked him 
what he was doing, and he said, "nothing!"
	"Do you have an itch?" I asked.
	"You could say that," he said.
	"I'd go into the bathroom and get you something, but of course, it's 
locked and..."
	"It's not that," Derek said.
	"Then why do you keep doing that?" I asked him as he resumed his activity.
	"It feels good," he said.
	"So what are you doing?"
	"Nothing, okay!" he snapped. He then got up from my bed.
	"Where are you going?"
	"I'm sleeping on the floor!" Derek said as he took his pillow with him. 
"It's too crowded in your bed!"
	"Fine, whatever," I thought as I scooted over and spread my limbs out and 
enjoyed the extra space I now had in my bed. Derek asked for a blanket and I 
told him I had some on my closet. He turned on the light without warning me 
first, thus blinding me. After Derek selected a blanket he turned the light back 
off.
	"It's really warm by the heat vent," I suggested to Derek, having spent 
many a night on the floor myself after wetting my bed. Not since I was put into 
diapers did I have to leave my bed because I had gotten it wet.
	I tried to resume sleeping, but I was too wide awake now and most likely I 
would be awake upon sunrise. I lay still for about another half hour. At that 
time I could hear Derek's plastic pants rustling around as he started 
"scratching his itch" again. He was moving his entire body around on the floor 
rather vigorously. Maybe he had fallen asleep and he was having a bad dream, but 
Derek was moaning and it sounded like whatever he was doing made him feel good. 
He was whispering, "oh yeah, oh yeah." Suddenly he stopped his activity. I 
figured that he was definitely awake, so I asked him again what he was doing.
	"Shit!" he exclaimed. "Weren't you asleep?"
	"No! It's Christmas Eve! I never sleep on Christmas Eve! Now why won't you 
tell me what you're doing?"
	"Oh, dammit!" he said. "I might as well tell you so you'll shut the hell 
up about it! You'll be doing it soon anyway!"
	"What? What is it?" I asked.
	"You ever heard of jacking off?" Derek asked me bluntly.
	 "Uh yeah, some of the older kids at school talk about it. They say they 
that when their dick gets hard they play with it and it feels good. Sometimes--"
	"Congratulations!" Derek interrupted me. "You passed the exam!" Derek said 
with sarcasm. "Now don't say nothing to nobody about it!"
	"Okay," I said, "but I'm kind of wondering how you're doing it with 
diapers on."
	"Why don't you try it and find out?" he said. "I'm going to sleep now, so 
shut up!"
	Bobby was sound asleep as I could hear him snoring lightly. As I had been 
thinking much about wearing diapers my dick had been getting stiff off and on 
with such thoughts. I sometimes handled my penis when it got stiff because it 
felt good to do this, but I was never able to make it feel the way the older 
kids explained it. It was supposed to tingle and then shoot out some white 
stuff. This sounded scary so I had avoided it. Tonight, however, I felt less 
inhibited. I spent the entire day seeing my two cousins going around with their 
butts just as thickly diapered up as mine, and the sight of them in diapers kept 
me excited throughout the day for some reason I didn't really understand. I 
started playing with my own hard-on and it felt good as I expected it to feel. 
After awhile it began to tingle. I was becoming afraid that I would "overdo" it, 
so I stopped.
	Derek was still awake and he could tell that I was trying to jack off.
	"Shit, don't tell me *you're* doing it now!"
	"You told me to try it," I said.
	"You're only eight years old!" he exclaimed. "You won't get nothing! You 
gotta wait until your dick gets a little bigger first-- if it ever does!"
	Derek laughed for a moment and then I never heard another word from him. I 
managed to get to sleep again, though it must have been a short sleep. I had 
been asleep long enough to wet my diapers, however. Daylight was just getting 
ready to light the snowy, overcast sky as I woke up and realized that Christmas 
morning had arrived at last!

'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 6
--------------------------------------

	I was the first one to be awake as I got out of bed Christmas morning. 
Bobby was still sound asleep in my bed. He was even sucking on his thumb in his 
sleep, which I thought made him look cute. As I left my room I stepped over 
Derek as he was curled up on the floor. His blanket was only partially covering 
him. His bare legs and thick diapers were showing. Several memories of spending 
my nights on the floor came back to me as looking at him lying there reminded me 
of those times I woke up in the middle of the night to a wet mattress. My 
diapers were wet again, which I was now getting used to wearing upon waking up.
	When I went out to the living room Aunt Margaret and Mom were already 
awake. They were getting the turkey and other items prepared to serve for the 
big dinner later that day. I had some cereal to hold me over until we ate later 
on.
	The others had gotten out of bed shortly afterwards. Derek complained that 
his diapers were wet and he was tired of wearing them and he wanted them off. 
Bobby didn't say anything about his, and I couldn't tell if he had done anything 
in them because they were so thick on him.
	I walked over to the fireplace and looked in my stocking hanging above it. 
Among packages of candy and some other small toys, I was given a plastic box 
that contained diaper pins, and lots of them! They were bigger pins, too. Maybe 
this was Santa's way of hinting at what he left me under the tree. I went back 
to the Christmas tree to check my presents more closely. There was one large box 
much like the one that contained the diapers that Mom gave me for Christmas 
early. This one was wrapped, however, and it was labeled "from Santa Claus."
	I looked around and noted two other large presents that were each about 
the same size as the big package that had my name on it. One of them was 
addressed to Bobby and the other, to Derek. These were from their mother, 
however. After everyone ate their breakfast, Bobby, Derek and I were all given 
diaper changes. This time Amy changed me and Mom changed Derek. I had just 
deposited a fresh bowel movement into my diapers before I let Amy deal with the 
mess. She gagged on the odors and she nearly barfed into the bucket that was 
used to carry the diapers back to the laundry room. In spite of the big stench, 
Amy got my butt wiped clean and she tightly pinned me back up into a thick bunch 
of diapers again. Derek's diapers were very wet, as were Bobby's, but neither of 
my cousins had pooped in theirs yet. Derek had pooped his diapers only once 
since he was put into diapers, but Bobby had yet to make stinky in his diapers. 
In fact, ever since Bobby was diapered yesterday morning he hadn't produced any 
stool at all. He was constipated, his mother determined. According to Aunt 
Margaret, Bobby hadn't pooped since the day before, and she also mentioned that 
Bobby had a tendency to become constipated. Aunt Margaret asked my mother for a 
laxative, and before Bobby's diapers were changed he was given two laxative 
pills, double the usual dosage. The back of his diapers would soon be loaded 
with all the shit his body had produced over the last two days or so. Because 
Bobby was given an extra dose of the laxative, he was expected to produce a very 
voluminous series of messy bowel movements. To handle the extra load, Aunt 
Margaret put Bobby into a set of six diapers. His plastic pants would not fit 
over them, so Bobby went around wearing just the incredibly thick bunch of 
diapers. She put them on him so that they were given an extra-high rise in the 
rear since he would need the additional capacity back there. Down each side of 
his diapers ran a row of diaper pins so closely spaced that they overlapped each 
other. Upon Grandma's arrival we would begin opening presents. Grandma was 
expecting me to be in diapers as my Mom had told her about it. About an hour or 
so after my cousins and I were given our diaper changes Grandma showed up at the 
door. She had been told by my Mom that I was wearing diapers, so she expected to 
see me wearing them. Even Grandma agreed now that I should be wearing diapers 
after she found out how much of a struggle I had given my Mom over wetting my 
bed and pooping my pants. She was disappointed to hear what I had done to the 
underwear that she had given me for my birthday and she felt that I belonged in 
diapers for this, too. Grandma didn't expect to see me diapered up so heavily, 
however. She was even more surprised to see that Derek and Bobby were also in 
diapers. When she asked Aunt Margaret why her boys were in diapers, Aunt 
Margaret said, "Derek wouldn't stop teasing Johnny about it, and Bobby just 
wanted to wear them, so I decided to make things easier on everyone and keep 
them both in diapers!" "At least you won't have to change them so often," 
Grandma remarked as she noted how we were each bundled into so many diapers. 
Meanwhile, Derek had fled to my room since he didn't want Grandma to see him in 
his diapers. Aunt Margaret went after him and cornered him in my room. Everyone 
could hear what was going on in there from the living room. "I don't want 
Grandma to see me like this!" he cried. "Why not? Everyone else has!" Aunt 
Margaret said. "Now stop this nonsense and get your butt out there!" "No!" he 
whined. "You're lucky you have all those diapers on you, because I'd really 
spank you right now!" Aunt Margaret escorted Derek back out to the front room. 
Tears were streaming down his face as Grandma greeted him. Grandma tried to 
assure Derek that she had seen other boys his age in diapers when she worked in 
the pediatric ward at the hospital. As she was retired and now working part-time 
as a cleaning lady, she told us that she still sees her share of older boys in 
diapers at the houses she cleans. This did nothing to comfort Derek as he sat 
down on the couch and moped. Mom, Aunt Margaret and Grandma chattered for awhile 
before we got to opening our gifts. During that time Bobby's laxative treatment 
was taking effect. While we were sitting next to the fireplace he squirted out a 
load of poop. Even through six layers of diapers I could hear it and smell it as 
well. It was only the beginning of what was yet to come. After Mom checked on 
the turkey and the other food that was being cooked, she joined the rest of us 
around the Christmas tree to open presents. Derek got up from the couch so that 
Grandma and Aunt Margaret could sit there. Mom was sitting in her recliner and 
Amy sat by the Christmas tree to distribute gifts and to operate the video 
camera. When Derek saw that she was videotaping he started to flee from the 
room, but Aunt Margaret told him to stay put or she would spank him and she 
would also make sure that Amy got it in tape if she did spank him. Derek then 
obediently sat down between Bobby and me by the fireplace. All three of us had 
to sit with our legs widely spread apart because we each had so many diapers on. 
Amy started out with handing out smaller presents. I was glad to see that I got 
a few toys after all as I opened various boxes of Legos, Matchbox and Hot Wheels 
sets as well as a couple games. Even Derek and Bobby got some toys, though Bobby 
ended up opening Derek's presents since he just sat still and moped the whole 
time. After I had opened several gifts I was handed a package that I knew was 
clothing and not a toy from the feel of the package, though I suspected that it 
may have contained diapers instead. Expecting to see the virgin white cloth of 
new diapers, I was surprised to see blue denim instead. At first I thought it 
was just a pair of pants, but as I unfolded it I realized that it was a pair of 
overalls. When I laid them out flat in front of me I saw that they were quite 
large around the middle. I presumed that the purpose of this was so that they 
would fit over my diapers. "Those are only for wearing to school and whenever 
you're out of the house, Johnny," Mom said to me. "Other than that you'll just 
be in diapers like you have been the last few days." Bobby and Derek also each 
received an identical pair of overalls from his mother. They also provided extra 
capacity around the waist to fit over their diapers. Bobby accepted his gift 
without any argument. He liked the idea of being expected to wear diapers from 
now on and thanked his mother. "You do realize that you'll only wear those 
outside of the house, Bobby," his mother said. "You'll be treated just like 
Johnny and you'll be in diapers the rest of the time." "Okay," Bobby accepted. 
Derek wasn't so accepting of his overalls. He opened up the package and then 
threw it down and protested. "I ain't wearin' these!" he said. "You will unless 
you want to go to school in diapers!" Aunt Margaret said. Derek then threw a big 
temper tantrum in front of everyone and Amy even got him on videotape. He 
started protesting about having to wear diapers and overalls. He then kicked 
everyone's presents around the room and he almost knocked over the Christmas 
tree. He then picked up his overalls and threw them into the fireplace where 
there was a log still burning! Aunt Margaret quickly got up and ran over to the 
fireplace and pulled them out before they caught on fire. She set them down on 
the hearth. They were only damaged on one of the legs as it had gotten seared 
and was smoldering. Derek then ran to my bedroom, where Aunt Margaret caught up 
with him. He was hollering and swearing. He started kicking my stuff around my 
room and then he tried in vain to take his diapers off, though there were so 
many pins holding them on that they he couldn't pull them off of his body. He 
ran back out of my room and back out to the kitchen. Aunt Margaret caught up 
with him and she tried to hold him down. My Mom had to go in there and help Aunt 
Margaret hold him down. "Derek!" she scolded. "I will not tolerate this 
behavior!" Aunt Margaret started taking his diapers off while threatening to 
give him the biggest spanking ever. "You want these diapers off? Well, they're 
coming off now because you're getting a really big spanking!" "No, Mom! No!" 
Derek cried. Luckily for Derek, my mother intervened and suggested to Aunt 
Margaret that there were other, more appropriate ways to punish Derek for his 
misbehavior, such as laxatives. Aunt Margaret decided that this would be more 
appropriate for the situation at hand and she gave Derek the option of either 
swallowing two laxative tablets, or getting his bottom severely beaten. He chose 
to take the laxative pills, which would ultimately carry out the duration of the 
punishment for several hours like the pain that followed a spanking. At least 
the pain from a spanking decreased as time passed, but being in diapers and 
continually soiling them, adding more and more poop to them, would become 
increasingly uncomfortable. After Derek was settled back down the gift opening 
resumed as we got down to the larger presents that were addressed "from Santa 
Claus." There were three similarly- sized packages for Derek, Bobby and me. I 
grabbed mine first and started opening it. For a brief moment I thought it was, 
at long last, the video game system I had been wanting for the last three 
Christmases, but the weight of the box quickly dismissed this hope. I had a 
feeling that it was going to be more diapers, and upon opening it, my feelings 
were confirmed. I pulled away the cardboard flap and saw the gleaming white 
fabric of more new diapers. Santa Claus delivered what he promised. In addition 
he also included some more pairs of plastic pants which were even larger. The 
diapers were also larger as I pulled one of them out of the tightly-packed box. 
Not surprisingly, Derek and Bobby each received identically-packed boxes of 
diapers from Santa Claus as well, along with the necessary diaper pins. Derek 
had resigned himself to his fate of being in diapers and he didn't show any 
signs of objection other than pouting. Right away Aunt Margaret took off his 
plastic pants and put two more diapers on top of the four he was already wearing 
so he would also be well-diapered for the laxative once it kicked in. Santa also 
made sure that Derek's plastic pants could handle such an extremely thick 
diapering as they were very large. Aunt Margaret put on him one of these pairs 
and she just barely got them to fit over his huge diapers. Bobby was also put 
into his plastic pants now that he had some of his own that would fit. "Maybe 
next year Santa will reconsider and bring you boys toys again," Mom said to the 
three of us. "But as you're all growing boys, he'll have to make sure you always 
have diapers that will fit you, too, and diapers don't last forever, especially 
if you're taking laxatives all the time!" Later on we were served our Christmas 
dinner. By then Derek had started pooping in his diapers and Bobby had already 
loaded his up with some more fresh loads. Likewise I had dropped a big load in 
mine, though it wasn't induced by a laxative. Amy didn't even want to sit with 
us at the designated kiddie table as the smell of three boys in heavily soiled 
diapers wasn't too appetizing to her. Once the early evening rolled around and 
after we had eaten dessert, we three boys were all changed out of our diapers, 
though we were each changed one at a time since we would all need baths. Mom 
worked on getting the dishes washed from the dinner while Amy and Aunt Margaret 
did the diaper changes. I watched as Bobby was changed first. I looked at him 
lying there on the changing pad that Amy had brought out from my room. I knew 
that once those diapers came off, a big smelly, poopy mess would greet Aunt 
Margaret. As I looked at Bobby with his legs up and spread apart I saw how he 
had purged out much of his bowels' poop accumulation and how his diapers were so 
deeply smothered all over in his shit. His mess had gone up past his balls and 
had spread to the front of his diapers. The poopy mass obscured the wet, yellow 
pee spot that otherwise would have been visible. Aunt Margaret had a lot of 
butt-wiping and genital wiping to do to Bobby before he was clean enough to be 
taken into the bathroom where Aunt Margaret scoured him thoroughly. Derek was 
next to be changed. He, too, had dropped quite a bit of poop in his diapers, 
though Bobby was definitely the winner had it been a contest. The bottom four 
diapers were placed in the bucket that already contained my other diapers that 
Bobby was wearing. A second bucket had been brought out to hold Derek's two new, 
but wet diapers that were added to his original fourfold diaper stack. Derek was 
then taken into the bathroom for his bath, but as the laxative was still working 
in his system, he squirted a load into his bath water and Aunt Margaret had to 
start all over with him again. While Derek was in the bathroom getting cleaned 
up, Amy worked on re-diapering Bobby. She went to his box of new diapers and 
pulled six of them out and she stacked them on the changing pad. Bobby seemed to 
enjoy getting his nuts and his ass powdered up prior to getting several of his 
brand new diapers yanked up into his crotch and pinned up high above his 
waistline. Once he was in his plastic pants he was turned loose while she 
started on Derek. "I don't want her to do it," he said sullenly. "You let her 
diaper you, Derek, or it'll be a spanking *and* a laxative pill!" Aunt Margaret 
warned. Derek quickly retreated from his resistance and took his position on the 
changing pad. Amy layered together another set of six diapers that came from his 
box. "I don't need that many diapers," Derek said to Amy. She looked down at his 
crotch and noticed his large erection surrounded by some pubic hair sprouts. 
"From the looks of your wiener, it looks like you're looking forward to wearing 
them!" Amy smirked. She brought the diapers up over his body as far as she could 
pull them up and then she locked the pins into the fabric. Derek was then let 
go, where he ran to the couch and sulked some more. Aunt Margaret then took my 
diapers off and dealt with my mess. "I'm glad you're not on laxatives," Aunt 
Margaret sighed with relief as she had already dealt with cleaning up her two 
sons' mega-messy bottoms. My bottom was only moderately messy, comparatively 
speaking. By the time it was my turn in the bathroom the air really stank, even 
with the fan going and the window above the tub cracked open. It was cold in the 
bathroom and I shivered as I stepped out of the bath water and dried off. I 
walked naked over to Amy, where she already had my diapers waiting along with a 
big pile of safety pins. I looked at the stack of diapers and questioned how 
many of them she was going to put on me. She counted them out in front of me. 
"...six, seven, eight!" she said. "Eight?!" I gasped. "Remember when you thought 
eight pairs of underwear was thick?" she remarked. Compared to what she was 
about to put on me, eight pairs of underwear worn together seemed like a thong 
bikini. I could tell from her wry smile that she was getting some satisfaction 
on making me wear so many diapers at a time. She used every diaper pin she had 
available to fasten all of the diapers on me. Even as big as my plastic pants 
were, I didn't think they stood a chance of fitting, but Amy managed to force 
them on top of the overly-abundant volume of diapers. As we went to bed that 
night I had a lot to think about on that last night that Derek and Bobby were 
staying as guests for Christmas. I wondered how my life would be affected as 
would the lives of my cousins. I knew it would be the Fourth of July before we 
would see each other again. Derek again chose to sleep on the floor. I imagined 
this was so that he could "scratch his itch" again. I could barely keep my body 
balanced as my diapers were so thick around me that I didn't have a flat side to 
lay on. Even in my double bed, Bobby and I were forced to cross our legs as our 
diapers kept them so widely spread apart. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought 
about how this would very likely be a Christmas that I would never forget. The 
next morning came early as Aunt Margaret woke us up to get her boys ready for 
the long drive home. Mom made us some breakfast before she gave everyone a 
goodbye hug and a kiss and took off for work. As Derek and Bobby had only peed 
in their diapers, they were left unchanged as they gathered their stuff up and 
took it out to the car. I watched Derek and Bobby walk out into the snow as they 
left. They looked so silly wearing their dark-colored heavy winter coats that so 
starkly contrasted with their white, bulging, ultra-thickly diapered butts 
protruding out so prominently. Their skinny, bare legs had nothing to protect 
them from the blowing cold wind except for their tube socks. I waved goodbye to 
them before they climbed into the car. Through the front window I watched them 
drive away. As I sat around in my diapers that day I enjoyed the return of the 
solitude that I missed for three days. I played with the toys I had gotten and I 
had time to think. I had a lot to think about. I thought about how my life was 
going to be changed, as were the lives of Derek and Bobby. I wouldn't see them 
again until we gathered the following summer over the Fourth of July. Most 
likely the three of us would spend the whole time just wearing diapers and 
shirts. The same would go for the many more years of Christmas gatherings.