Name: Kevin
Ages: 16-17

	This is a true account based on memory only. I tried to 
make is as accurate as possible (But because I spent a 
little time in the hospital) things are going to be a little 
distorted. I'll try to make is as 100% accurate as I 
possibly can.

	Hello. My name is Kevin Tajiri. I live in Philadelphia 
with my two parents. Right now, I'm eighteen, but these 
accounts start way back in my Middle-teens (At age 16). In 
case you haven't noticed (From my name), I am partly 
Japanese. My father (Who is fully Japanese and does not 
speak English with the best of them) works in Japan, as a 
successful business man. He visits me four times a year (He 
stays a week at a time, once at Christmas, once for my 
birthday, once at the beginning of my Summer break, and he 
comes by once during the year and surprises us all) My 
mother is a combination of German and Irish (I inherited her 
blue eyes). She stays at home most of the day, except for a 
part time job she has during the weekend. Each year, my 
Father sends us some money for us to live off of. We aren't 
rich, we're just very well off.
	Well, enough about that; I shall now start with why I 
am writing this. I've always been very fascinated with 
Diapers. I tried infantilism, but I'm not really into it (My 
obsession with Diapers apparently is not sexual) In this 
story of my account, I will tell about my life, and how I 
get Diapers now.
	Back when I was sixteen, and my obsession was 
repressed, I was working at a 7/11 (It's a dangerous job, 
but someone's gotta do it) I quit a year ago, for a job at 
Walmart. Anyway, I had just gotten off shift, and I was on 
my way home (In a nice car my Father had bought for my 
sixteenth birthday) On the way home, some idiot cut me off 
in my lane, and jammed on their breaks. Well, I did not know 
why at the time (I was driving the speed limit, unlike some 
of those bastards you see on the road), this caused a small 
automobile accident. I did not have time to Jam on my 
breaks, and neither did the person behind me. Three cars 
crashed that day, and I was in the middle of it. Luckily, no 
one was killed, but I was in for a surprise when I came to..
	I awoke couple of hours later in the Hospital. The 
crash had broken my left knee cap, bruised my kidneys and 
bladder, and to top it off; my head hurt like hell. First 
thing I saw was a doctor, sitting besides the bed, taking 
notes. At the time, I had no idea of what had happened (All 
I knew was I hurt really bad, and wanted to go back home)
	I turned my head to the doctor, and asked "What 
happened?"
	The doctor glanced over at me.
	"You were in a car accident. You're very lucky to have 
come out of it like you did. To put it in lay men's terms: 
All that happened to you is you broke your left knee cap, 
and bruised your kidneys, and bladder really badly. Right 
now, we've got you hitched up to a catheter (Ouch!), the 
damage to your kidneys and bladder was minimal, but you 
might be incontinent for the next couple of weeks."
	"Well, at least I'm alive." I thought out loud. "Do you 
know when I'll be going home?"
	He smiled.
	"Well, if all goes according to plan, you'll be going 
home in five days."
	I was relieved, but I had more questions to ask the 
doctor.
	"I want to ask you something, doctor." I said. "When 
you say 'incontinent', what exactly do you mean by that?"
	"Well, like I said, your kidneys and bladder were 
damaged."
	"And what does that mean?"
	"Okay. Let me put it in lay men's terms." he cleared 
his throat. "That will make it so you may have involuntary 
contractions of your bladder, and your bladder will be very 
weak. This means that you won't be able to hold your water 
very well.
"And what does all that add up to?" I have to admit, I was 
getting pretty impatient with his beating around the bush.
"You might need diapers for a couple of weeks after you 
leave here."
	Well, at the time I was very frustrated with that, and 
hoped it would not be necessary. I had no desire to wear 
diapers back then (Even though I was a little fascinated 
with them). I still had questions to ask the doctor. I 
wasn't about to get hung up on one thing like that!
	"Oh." I say to the doctor in reply. "I hope I can 
recover all the way before I leave here."
	He nods in acknowledgment.
	"Can I ask you another question, doctor?"
	He nods.
	"How is my car?"
	"What do I look like, a mechanic?" he says in reply. 
"I'm sorry, but that's a question you'll have to ask a 
family member."
	I wondered where my family was. My mother, I thought 
she'd be there for me.
	"Is my mother allowed to see me yet?"
	He looks at the clip board at the foot of my bed.
	"I've got other patients to see." He gets up on his 
feet, and heads towards the exit of the room. "To answer 
your question, your mother wasn't allowed to see you until 
you awoke, it's not visiting hours yet, but maybe she'll be 
in tomorrow."
	He left the room, and dimmed the lights.
	I fell asleep in the strange new bed. The strange 
noises sang me lullabies as I drifted off.
	I awoke the next morning. Nurses were doing things to 
me, daily things. First, I performed some pretty painful 
exercises that involved stretching my back (I did not know 
it at the time, but they had done some surgery on my 
kidneys, and I had stitches all in my back) Next, I ate 
breakfast, followed by seeing the doctor. After that, I lay 
there, too tired to do much of anything, but watch Fox on 
TV.
	Much later in the day, my Mother came to see me. She 
was very, very concerned about my well being.
	"How's my boy?" she asked me the moment I saw her. 
"Even though it's Sunday, I've got all day to spend with 
you!"
	"What did you quit?" I asked her, still having my sense 
of humor about me.
	"No, I got the day off!" she exclaims. "Now, is there 
anything you'd like to ask me, or say to me?"
	"Finally, someone to talk to." I thought out loud. 
"Tell me, how is my car?"
	She sits down besides me.
	"Right now, your car is getting repaired." she says, 
smiling. "Anything else you want to say to me?"
	I wanted to know how I got into the crash, and she was 
the one to ask.
	"Yeah, will you tell me exactly what happened to put me 
in here?"
	She backs up from me.
	"Do you remember anything?" she asks.
	The only thing I remembered at the time was "I was on 
my way home from work?"
	"That's right," she says in a soothing voice. "You were 
on your way home from work, and some jackass cut you off, 
then jammed on his breaks. You did not have enough time to 
put on your breaks, and you smashed into him. The person 
behind you smashed into you; you were sand-witched between 
two cars."
	"Are the other drivers okay?" I then asked her.
	"The driver in the back got away with a few lacerations 
to his head, and the driver in the front took off, with 
little damage to his car."
	"You mean he ran off?!" I half exclaimed in 
frustration. "He did not try to help me."
	"Now you know the world is full of inconsiderate 
people. Look, all they know is he was driving a Gray station 
wagon."
	"I hope they catch the bastard." I said in frustration. 
I had to calm down. "Well, at least I'm okay."
	"Do you want to ask me anything about your injuries?" 
she then asks. "I don't know what you've been told."
	"I've been told that I broke my knee, I'll be out of 
here in about four days, and there's a chance I'll be 
incontinent for a couple of weeks."
	"Well, I just got an update on your condition. You're 
doing good, Kevin! When you go home, you'll need crutches 
for a couple of months, and about being incontinent, I'm 
understanding to that. I'll get you what ever you need, if 
you are."
	I've always been very happy to have such a sympathetic 
mother. I would then have to show her what machines they've 
got me hitched up to. I know she'd ask me questions if I did 
not.
	"Mom, do you know what they've got me hitched up to?"
	"I was wondering that. You know I've always been 
fascinated with little do-hickeys, and machines."
	I pointed at the different things, and told her what 
they were. If I haven't said this already, in school, I was 
studying nursing, and I knew a great deal about these 
machines. But, at the time, it was the middle of the Summer, 
so I was starting to get a little rusty. Anyway, I showed my 
mother everything. Everything, but the catheter, which I 
just told her they had me hooked up to one. "My poor baby." 
was her response. You know, I've never thought of it before, 
but maybe saying "My poor baby." or what ever other 
variations there are of that saying, helps trigger an 
infantilistic urge in some of us? I don't know, but when 
ever my Mom called me baby, it would make the hair on the 
back of my neck stand up (I don't know why, like I said, I'm 
not into infantilism, but for some reason, getting called 
baby, by ANYBODY, turns me on ever so slightly. I guess it's 
like a pet name.)
	When the day was over, she left with a smile on her 
face. He presence had lifted my spirits a great deal. I 
slept comfortably that night.
	In the morning, I went through the same routine that I 
had the previous day (The exercises were ever so slightly 
less painful) I did not see my family that day. It was 
pretty dull. Until the end of the day, I was in for a hell 
of a surprise.
	The doctor came in, and they wheeled me off into 
another room. I knew what they were about to do, and believe 
me, I knew it was going to be painful. They took out he 
catheter, and said "I no longer need it, this is the time to 
see what my bladder can put up with." When I say getting the 
catheter removed was painful, I mean real painful. They said 
it was for my own good.
	They wheel me into a new room, where I fall asleep. 
They had given me a bathroom, and a better view of the 
scenery out of the window. Little did I know that I wasn't 
going to be using the bathroom very much, if at all.
	I wake up the next morning in a puddle, both warm and 
damp. I'd wet the bed. What's strange is that, if memory 
serves me correctly. I knew exactly when I was peeing, even 
though I was asleep. I know it sounds funny. I had no desire 
to go, I just went in my sleep.
	I page the nurse, and she cleans me up. She gave me the 
option of wearing a diaper (One of those nasty green 
hospital diapers), which I turned down at the time (If only 
I knew why). I went back to sleep.
	I awake even later, this time not in a puddle. I woke 
up to hear my mothers voice.
	I opened my eyes, and looked up at her.
	"They've moved you to a new room." she says. "And took 
away some of the machines. You look, great."
	I have to admit "I feel okay."
	"That's good." she says smiling. "I can't stay very 
long, but I'm gonna say this before I go. Tomorrow you can 
come home, the doctors said so. I'll be by in the early 
afternoon, with a surprise."
	"A surprise." I mumbled, I was pretty tired. "What type 
of surprise?"
	"You'll see tomorrow, I'll have it then."
	As if someone had suddenly turned on a switch, the bed 
sheets grew very damp the moment she finished that sentence. 
I wet myself, a second time. She did not seem to notice, but 
I did. This time, I did not even realize I was peeing, it 
just came out. At the time, I figured because she's right 
there, and she's my mother, I'd tell her what had just 
happened.
	"Mom, I just had an accident. Will you get the nurse?"
	"Sure, baby," she says, walking out of the room. "I'll 
be right back."
	In a matter of minutes, she comes back with a nurse.
	"What can I do for you?" the nurse asks me.
	"I wet myself. Please get me some clean linens," I said 
in reply.
	She walks out of the room, and comes back in with clean 
supplies My mother watches her change my bedding, and change 
my shirt. She then asks me if I need to be wearing a diaper. 
This time, I cave in, because I did not want to wet my 
sheets again, and I did not want to be a bother.
	"Yes. This is my second accident today, it's really 
embarrassing to wet yourself, please get me some diapers."
	She walks out of the room, for the moment.
	"You know." my Mother begins to say. "You're in a 
hospital, and you've been in an auto accident. Wearing 
diapers does not make you a baby. I think it's better that 
you accept your need for them, instead of constantly wetting 
yourself. I'm proud of you."
	I could tell she was trying to make me feel better, and 
it was working. My spirits were lifted! Unfortunately, those 
kind words helped trigger something. The words "I think it's 
better that you accept your need for them" started my 
wanting diapers. At the time it meant nothing, until a few 
weeks later, then they meant something.
	In a matter of minutes, the nurse returned with a small 
package of diapers (I don't know why, but these ones weren't 
Green). Since I was able, she asked me: "Do you want me to 
put them on you, or do you want to?"
	I looked at the package. Something about feeling like a 
baby getting his diaper changed turned me off. I wanted to 
do it myself.
	"I think I'm able enough to put one on myself."
	She opens the package, and sets one on the bed in front 
of me. I look up at her, and I look up at my mother.
	"Can I have a little privacy please?" I ask.
	"Certainly." my mother says, as they step outside of 
the room.
	I looked down at the diaper. It looks exactly like a 
babies diaper (Like I said, not green; instead Plain white, 
single tapes on either side), but no dumb cartoon animals on 
the front, and it's considerably larger (To fit me). I open 
it up, and look inside. Judging by the concave(ness) inside, 
it's got a hell of an absorbency. I lay down flat, on the 
bed, and put it under my backside. I then pull the two sides 
together, and seal the tapes on either side. Suddenly, a 
very warm, comfortable feeling filled my entire body. It was 
like I'd been waiting my whole life to be wearing them 
again. Off the record: No, I did not get an erection, or any 
other sexual gratification, I just felt. at ease. very 
comfortable. "I'm wearing a diaper." I thought. "I'm wearing 
a diaper, and I like it." Immediately after thinking that, I 
put my shirt over the diaper, put the blankets over my body.
	When set, I called my Mom back in. The nurse comes in 
with her, and sets the package under my bed, just so I could 
easily reach them.
	The nurse said, before leaving "There are ten in this 
package. Call us if you need more." the nurse then leaves.
	When all is calm again, my mother asks me "How do you 
feel, wearing a diaper?"
	It's a reasonable question, if you think about it. At 
the time, I did not want to say something like "great" or 
something to that effect, because she might have looked at 
me funny. Instead, I said "It feels okay, I guess. It's not 
uncomfortable, or nothing."
	She smiles, and replies "Remember, you're still a 
grown-up, even if you need to wear diapers."
	She had drilled that into my head far enough, but I 
just smiled, and thanked her for the reassurance. She left 
soon after. Me, I lay there in my diaper, thinking about the 
life I was soon to return to.
	I changed myself for the first time about four hours 
later. I reached over for the diapers, grabbed a hold of 
them, took off the damp one, and put on a new one. This made 
me feel really nice inside, I guess it was the security of 
wearing a diaper, and the feeling of being at ease. I put 
the used diaper in the trash can, and the clean ones back 
under my bed, just in grasp.
	Well, a couple of hours later, I discovered that I 
could still take a crap in the privacy of a bathroom. At 
least I wasn't incontinent that way.
	Well, I slept comfortably that night. I knew I wasn't 
going to wake up in a puddle. Having a diaper on actually 
helped me relax quite a bit.
	I woke up very early the next morning. I changed 
myself, and got ready for the exercises that awaited me. I 
did them more easily than the last time. This time they 
actually almost did not hurt. After the exercises, I saw the 
doctor, whom told me that I was going to get discharged that 
very afternoon (earlier than they had planned), and that I 
should come back in three weeks for a check up, and to get 
the staples removed.
	The day went on. I had a couple of nurses come in, and 
check on me. I asked one of them, "Since I'm going to leave 
later, is it okay if I take the package of diapers with me?"
	She replies "In order to have gotten the diapers in the 
first place, they would have had to have been paid for, so 
to answer your question. yes, you can keep that opened 
package of diapers."
	Well, I was overjoyed. I'd already used almost half of 
the package, but this meant that I would have something to 
wear, that I was going to like, for another day or two.
	A nurse came by, a little later. I could hear my 
mother's voice, she was here to pick me up. The nurse had 
another package of diapers, and a set of crutches. Before I 
could say anything, a doctor came in. He explained my 
predicament to me, and told me to take it easy. When he left 
my mother came in. She had some clothes for me to wear, and 
a bag for anything I needed to bring home with me. All I 
really had was a couple packages of diapers, and a 
prescription for a heavy-duty pain killer. She packed the 
bag, as I carefully put on the pair of jeans she had brought 
me. I have to admit, with a screwed up knee, it hurt a 
little putting my jeans on. My knee had a brace on it, which 
I had noticed for the first time (I was really out of it 
when I was in the hospital) I had to rip my jeans along the 
side (Just a little) to fit into the pair of pants. Well, 
when all was packed, and my clothes were on, I looked at 
myself in the mirror. The Jeans did not conceal the diaper 
as much as I wished they could have, but it wasn't that 
obvious that I was wearing diapers. All I did to make it 
less obvious was untuck my shirt, and allow it to cover my 
diapered area.
	When all set, I left my room, limping on my crutches. 
My mother filled out the paper work at the desk, and then we 
left the floor, into the elevator we went.
	"So, Mom. you said you'd have a surprise for me?" I ask 
her.
	"Yeah, I have two surprises for you. One of them is in 
the car, and the other one, the one I did not expect is at 
home."
	The elevator dinged, and we both got out, and headed 
towards the exit. I think to myself "I can't wait until I'm 
back home, these surprises will definitely cheer me up." 
little did I know how true that was.
	We got to the parking lot, I look for our an (I figured 
Mom would bring the van, because I was hurt, and there was a 
good chance I'd want to put my leg up) I sight the blue van, 
and we both head towards it. The windows are tinted, so it's 
hard to see who, or what is in there from a distance. She 
opens the door, and I see. my father! My father had come all 
the way from Japan, under such little notice, just to be 
with me. Believe me, I was so fucking happy I could have 
cried! (Forgive the language, but it's true, I had never 
been so happy in my life!)
	"How's my son?" my father asks me.
	"I've been better," I say, as my Mother opens the door 
behind my father to let me in.
	"I was very, very worried about you, Kevin." I get off 
the crutches, and kneel towards my father, on my good leg. I 
gave him a hug, it felt very good to see him. "I'm very 
happy to see you, Kevin. Even though. I can only stay for a 
few days."
	"It's okay, Father. I'm happy you're here, regardless 
of how long you can stay."
	I get back on my crutches, and get into the back seat 
of the car. Things are set up so I can easily put my foot 
up. I take advantage, and put my leg up (I don't know the 
mechanics behind it, but I felt much better when I 
straighten my leg, and rested it against something)
	My mother got in the front of the car, and closed the 
door. She started the engine, and we headed off back home.
	"So. what have you been up to?" my Father asks me.
	"Well, let me see. I'm was doing quite well in school, 
it's summertime now, and I was going to join Track next 
year. I hope to be able to."
	"Good. good. Did I mention I have a surprise for you 
back at the house?"
	"No, but mother said there was an unexpected surprise 
for me back there."
	"Well, I hope you like it."
	Well, the hospital wasn't too far from home. We were 
almost there, already. We live in three story house, near a 
good sized pond I usually swim in during the warm Summer 
days. I couldn't then, with my knee the was it was, and the 
staples in my back.
	We were then at my house. All three of us got out of 
the car, and I slowly went inside. When inside of the house, 
I sat down in my favorite chair (The one in my living room) 
Both of my parents were around me, helping me relax. When 
all was settled, I turned to my Dad.
	"So Dad, you said you had something you wanted to give 
to me?" I ask him.
	"Oh yes, I will go get it now."
	He leaves the room, and I turn to my Mom.
	"Do you know what it is?" I ask her.
	"Just watch." she mouths, pointing me in the direction 
of where my Dad went.
	I turned back, and waited. patiently.
	My Dad appears, coming out from the room. He is pulling 
something big by a leash, it's not too hard to figure out 
what it is.
	"A dog!" I exclaimed. "You got me a dog, thank you 
father, thank you!"
	About half way into the room, he stops, and says "Sit." 
and the dog does as it's commanded.
	I get up, and grab my crutches. I wobble over to my 
father, and ask "What's its name?"
	He smiles. "His name is Kioshi (For those of you whom 
don't speak Japanese, Kioshi means "quiet bear", I think 
it's based on some old Japanese poem, or something like 
that). He's a Japanese Akita. I was planning on giving him 
to you for your birthday, but because you were recently 
injured, I thought I'd give him to you now to cheer you up."
	"One of the best things I've ever been given!" I 
exclaim. "I'll cherish him."
	My father then said "Because your knees were hurt, your 
Mother will walk him until you get better. Okay?"
	"I don't have a problem with that." I said. "As long as 
I can keep him."
	"Yes. He's yours."
	Well, the day went on. My father and I discussed what I 
had been doing, and what I was planning. He asked me if I 
wanted to talk about the accident, and I said yes. I 
explained what had happened, and explained my situation. It 
wasn't until I got to the word "incontinent", that he 
started asking questions. You see, my father does not speak 
good English, and he was unfamiliar with that word at the 
time.
	"What's is incontinent?" he asked me. "When you say 
you're going to be incontinent for an ungiven time, what do 
you mean?
	Well, all I had to do was stand up, and pull my pants 
down a good 1* inches.
	"Ah, your Mother told me about this." he says, looking 
at my Diaper. "I am very, very sympathetic to your wants and 
needs." he clears his throat. "So tell me. I gather 
incontinent means you can't not control your bodily 
functions?"
	"I don't hold my liquids very well." I say, pulling my 
pants back up, and sitting back down. "Any other questions?"
	"No."
	Well, the two days went by. To spend time together, my 
Father rented some movies, and we played some video games 
together. I found myself changing my diaper many times 
during those days. It's hard to believe, but I was starting 
to feel my need to go. It was sort of a pain in my upper 
back, followed by a sharp pain lower stomach. I did not 
bother trying to hold it in, it was too painful, and I 
wanted to keep wearing diapers.
	My mother got me more diapers. She got me probably two 
hundred dollars of them. Each was a different brand (Some of 
them were Attends; others were Goodnights, which did not 
work too well; and others were Depends, which I did not like 
one bit) In the end, she was buying Goodnights, and Attends, 
the best of the two. I like the Attends better, because they 
were like the ones the Hospital gave me (The re-sealable 
kind) and they are VIRTUALLY invisible under a pair of boxer 
shorts and Jeans. The only hint to the fact that I was 
wearing a diaper was the little crinkling noise it might 
make when I moved my legs.
	My Father left, and I was healing. I'd still change my 
diapers, which I'd grown fond of doing. It was only a matter 
of time before I no longer needed to wear the diapers.
	Well, I'll flash forward a couple weeks, because 
nothing interesting happened. The only real interesting 
thing that happened (That's important to the story), was the 
pain started to go away. Instead of feeling a pain when I 
needed to go, I felt like I used to, the only difference was 
I'd have to go REAL badly all of the sudden, and of coarse, 
I'd try to make it (I have to admit, when my mother potty 
trained me, she did a good job of it), but I'd rarely make 
it, and I started accepting these accidents, and as I did 
not make it in time, it became a lot easier "Not to make it 
in time".
	I went to the doctor for a check-up. He removed the 
staples (I expected it to be more painful than it actually 
was) He then examined my back, and said "Well, you're 
looking much better. Are you still not able to hold your pee 
like you used to?"
	"Well, I'm still in diapers, but I'm making it more 
often, but I still have an accident once and a while that 
keeps me from being able to hold it like I used to."
	"As long as you're getting better. Give him another 
week, then bring him back to me."
	Well the week went on, and something happened that 
changes this story traumatically. I was able to hold my pee 
again. My mother was overjoyed when she asked me how that 
was going, and I told her (I don't like lying to my parents, 
if they ask me a direct question) She went and told my 
father, and he was happy to hear about it, too.
	I went back to the doctors, and he was happy to see the 
progress I had made. He took the brace off of my leg, and 
gave me a smaller one. I could comfortably fit into a pair 
of pants, comfortably stand up, and I could walk with a 
limp. The only problem was. I was back using the toilet. No 
more diapers for me, or so my mother thought.
	I started to get desperate. We lived close enough to a 
Wal-Mart, that I could easily buy my own if I really wanted 
to. I never worked up the courage to. I had another 
alternative. I thought about peeing my pants again, and 
again, and again; maybe that would get me put back into 
diapers. I peed my pants a few times, and it felt pretty 
gross. I did not like the feeling of it dribbling down my 
leg. I wet the bed a two times, in the morning, I'd just 
empty my bladder into my sweat pants (I used to sleep in 
sweat pants). It felt too gross to do constantly (Granted my 
mother thought it was because of the accident the I was 
wetting the bed and wetting my pants, but at the same time 
she thought I was doing pretty good, because I had only wet 
the bed a few times, and she's the type of mother to think 
that "No one's perfect.")
	Well, I went back to work at 7/11. I worked happily, 
and I have yet to get into another auto accident yet.
	I got so desperate, that I went to Yahoo, and put in 
"Buying adult diapers". I was surprised by what I came up 
with. I came up with a sight under the headline of "Tips for 
teens who want to wear diapers" What came out of that site 
was the best info I'd ever gotten. The best info I got from 
that sight was: That it's normal if some teens want to wear 
diapers, and a lot of them do. If I wanted to wear diapers 
during the day (And have no one know about it), first thing 
I had to do was get my hands on them. I had to go in the 
early morning (Like around six or something) and purchase 
them (I bought myself some Attends) The thing that worked up 
my courage is that most of the cashiers really don't pay 
attention to what you are buying, and some of the older ones 
don't know what they are! Well, I got a hold of the Attends, 
and it was time for the second step. If I wanted to wear 
them during the day, I'd have to have something to cover up 
the damn crinkling noise. The solution the web site gave me 
was to get a pair of wind breaker sweat pants. I had plenty 
of them, it was only a matter of getting them out of my 
closet. I put on the attends, a pair of boxer shorts, and 
the wind breaker sweat pants, and it was literally 
impossible to tell I was wearing a diaper.
	The weeks went on, and I got better. No one ever knew I 
was wearing a diaper. Before the end of the summer, I had 
another bout of knee surgery, which put me down for another 
three weeks. After that, I was up and about just in time for 
school. But before school started, something rather rash 
happened.
	I was just getting off of he Internet (The day I 
discovered this site) and I walked past my mother in the 
Hall. I was getting ready to take Kioshi for a walk.
	"Hey Kevin, can I talk to you for a second?" my mother 
asks, as I pass her.
	"Sure Mom." I innocently say. "About what?"
	I follow her into her room, and she sits down on the 
bed.
	"Kevin, last week I had a conversation with Mrs. 
Benton." she sighed. "Apparently her son was going into 
pornographic sites. She found out about that, by checking 
the history folder, something I recently checked just for 
laughs, on our computer. I found some pretty weird stuff. 
Stuff about advice for teens who want to wear diapers, and 
other paraphernalia about people in diapers. Tell me, Kevin; 
why do you look at this stuff? Do you look at it for laughs, 
or do you take it seriously. Please tell me the truth."
	That was the first time my mother ever said that to me. 
"Please tell me the truth." I wasn't about to lie to her, 
I'd tell her the answers to anything she asked me.
	"I take is seriously, Mom." I say, in reply. It's 
strange, but I did not feel any shame (Nor do I now) for 
what I've done.
	"Well, I read what you read at these sights. I've 
noticed you've been recently wearing wind breaker sweat 
pants. They recommend that if you want to hide the fact that 
you're wearing a diaper, you should wear those types of 
pants. " she cleared her throat. "I'd like to take a look at 
what you've got on under your pants, and boxers, please." 
she requested. It's interesting that I never actually 
receive orders from my parents, but I am inclined to comply 
to their requests.
	"Okay, I will. But I fear that you will not like what 
you see."
	She smiles.
	"I'll never judge you. As long as your my baby, and 
your not hurting anybody, I understand your wants and 
needs."
	I stepped away from my mother, and pulled my pants and 
boxer shorts down a good two inches, showing her what I was 
wearing underneath. Her facial expression did not change, 
and in a matter of seconds, she said "Okay, you can pull 
them up," in a normal tone. I pulled my pants up, and made 
eye contact with her.
	"Do you have anything you want to say, Mom?" I ask her, 
patting her on the shoulder.
	"The human mind is a very strange thing," she said. 
"It's not my place to stop you from doing what comes natural 
to you. If you want to wear diapers that's fine with me; 
hell I'll even buy them for you. Just let me ask you this. 
If you can answer me: Why? Why do you wear diapers? Is it 
sexual, is it emotional; what do you have to say for 
yourself?"
	"You could call it a security problem, Mom." I say, 
still making eye contact. "In diapers, I feel comfortable, 
and safe. I feel less paranoid, and less confused. I'm happy 
you let me stay in diapers, I'm going to wear them all the 
time, everyday."
	"A security problem, egh? Can I ask you another 
question?" she said, apparently trying very hard to think 
about how to word her question right.
	"Sure, Mom." I say, in reply.
	"When did you discover your liking of diapers? Was it 
when you got hurt?"
	"Yes, Mom." I say, in reply.
	"Are you sure you want to wear diapers all the time?"
	"Yes, Mom."
	"You still use the toilet, don't you?"
	"Only to crap, Mom."
	"I have nothing more to say, but I'll close by saying 
this. I'm going to have to tell your father about this. I 
have a feeling he won't know what to say. Don't worry, he's 
got an open mind, and I'm sure he'll be understanding. Do 
you understand what I have to do?"
	"Yes, Mom."
	Well, she told my Father about her discovery over the 
phone. He actually thought she was joking at first, because 
he'd never heard of such a thing, but after some discussing 
it over the phone, my father had quite a bit to say: "If he 
wants to be in diapers, that's okay with me. He says he's 
got a security problem, see if you can get him some help, 
someone to talk to, like a therapist, or some other mentor. 
I wish I were in town, because I feel this is something that 
is better to be discussed face-to-face, but I can't come 
until his birthday. The fact that he wants to wear diapers 
does not change my opinion of him. He's still my boy, and I 
love him dearly, I just feel that this is a very bizarre 
hobby for him to take up. I wish I could stay on longer, but 
I have to go. I'll close by saying: You have my support." 
With those words he hung up. My mother and I really did not 
have much to discuss over the issue, the day went on as if 
nothing had happened.
	The days went on, and Summer was coming to an end, 
until I got a call from my girl friend, Lauren. She had been 
in Arizona all Summer, and had just gotten back. She wanted 
to see me, at my place. Of coarse, I said "Yes" in a 
heartbeat, and she was to come over the next day. We were to 
do great stuff together. I had a whole list of movies for 
Lauren to watch (We really like to watch bizarre movies 
together. The movies my father had rented I had made copies 
of, and she showed interest in watching them) I had Fritz 
the Cat; Evil Dead; Dead alive; Heavy metal and Meet the 
Feebles, not to be confused with Meet the Beatles, or Meet 
the Deedles (Which was a very bad film) this one is with 
puppets, whom massacre each other at the end.
	Well, I had her over, and we watches most of those 
movies. We were watching Meet the Feebles, and we were. 
enjoying each others company. We were kissing, and I had my 
hand under her skirt, feeling her up between her legs. She 
went into my pants, and was very surprised by what she 
found.
	"Hey, Kevin," she says, pulling her lips from mine. "I 
just went into your pants, and I felt something rather 
strange. It feels like the elastic top to a diaper. I 
thought you said you are over the incontinence from the 
accident. Why are you wearing a diaper?"
	I got up, straightened my back, and sat up against my 
pillow
	"Now, the reason I'm your boy friend is because you 
understand me, right?"
	"Yeah, Kevin, I understand you," she said, giggling. 
"But I'm lost to why you're still diapering yourself."
	I cleared my throat.
	"The reason I'm doing that is because. I want to." I 
sighted. "I do it because it feels good, it makes me relax."
	"I heard about this. Isn't that a form of infantilism? 
Are you a AB?"
	"Not exactly." I say, standing up. "I don't like 
dressing up like a baby, or acting like one, I'm only into 
the diapers. The word for that is 'DL' or diaper lover. I 
love diapers, and I'm not going to pretend I don't."
	"Well, Kevin. I'm going to be honest with you. I always 
wondered what a diaper felt like. Would you mind if I asked 
you to diaper me?"
	I knew right off the bat she'd get a sexual rise out of 
my diapering her. I'd read all about this type of play, and 
I was more than game to try it. You see, I don't believe in 
sex before marriage, but I do believe in sexual acts, as 
long as they don't get out of hand (I had my hand up her 
skirt while we were kissing). Besides, I knew I'd get a 
chance to look at her pussy, and I wanted to see it.
	"Sure, just lie down on my bed, and I'll get everything 
set up.
	I went into my dresser, and got a diaper ready. I did 
not know if it would fit, because I grew quite a bit over 
the Summer. When the summer first started, I was 115, the 
same weight as her. But because I had been less active than 
I usually was, I weighed 150 (At 5'10", I was pretty solid) 
I hoped it would fit.
	She lay on the bed. She was wearing a Green-black plaid 
skirt, unless someone looked up her skirt, no one would know 
she had a diaper on. I approach her, and open the diaper. I 
pulled the skirt up, and looked at her panties. She was 
wearing plain white panties (She obviously was having her 
monthly visitor, because I could see she was wearing a pad. 
I pulled her panties down to her knees, and looked at the 
birth giving parts of her body. She was sixteen, so she's 
got pubic hair.
	"Raise your bottom." I said.
	She raises her backside a couple of inches, and I slide 
the diaper under her. I pull the two sides together, and 
taped it up nicely. She let out a smile, as I lowered her 
plaid skirt, and backed up (She apparently got a little rise 
out of the whole diapering thing)
	"Okay, you can stand up, now."
	She gets up, panties still hanging down at her knees. 
She takes them off, and puts them in a pocket in her skirt. 
She then looks at me.
	"It fits." she says smiling. "It fits, and. I like it!" 
she picks up her skirt, and looks down at her diaper. She 
lets out another smile, and looks up at me. "Thank you."
	"If you want more, I can give you a few more."
	"That's good." she says, lowering her skirt. "I'll take 
as many as you can give me."
	"I'll give you ten, but no more. If you want more, you 
can get them at Walmart."
	She picks up her skirt, and looks down at the diaper.
	"I need to pee." she says. "It's hard to just go where 
you stand."
	"You're telling me." I say laughing. "Tell me, do you 
have to go badly?"
	"Enough so that if I wasn't wearing a diaper, I'd cross 
my legs."
	"Lay down on the bed." I said, pointing at my bed. "I 
know of a way to get it out of ya."
	She lays down on the mattress, and I approach.
	"What are you going to do?" she asks.
	I knew she was really ticklish. The thing that gave me 
this idea was when we were younger (About kindergarten age), 
tickled her for a very short amount of time, but she was so 
ticklish that I caused her to take a nice, long pee in her 
overalls (I say it was nice because when she had the 
accident, she did not cry, she giggled, well after I stopped 
tickling her. She enjoyed the feeling of the warm pee 
filling her panties, dampening her jeans, and dribbling down 
her leg. It makes me wonder it she has some pants peeing 
fetish) Her parents diapered her for seven years after that 
accident (Because she was constantly peeing her pants and 
wetting the bed) She was diapered all the way to the 
beginning of middle school!
	Without a word, I start tickling her. In a matter of 
seconds, she's begging for me to stop, so I tickle her even 
harder. She gets what I'm trying to do, and in about a 
minutes time, she says "Okay, I'm wet, I'm wet!!!" and I 
stop tickling her about ten seconds later.
	I get up off of her, and she lifts her skirt. The 
entire front of the diaper was a dark yellow color, and my 
bed sheets were a little damp.
	"I guess you really had to go." I said. "Don't worry, 
I'll change you."
	I get another diaper, and change her. I threw the 
saturated diaper in the trash.
	We continue watching the movies that I'd made copies 
of. At the end of all the movies, she spends the night. We 
find something very interesting to do that I want to share.
	I brought Kioshi into my room, and closed the door.
	"Kioshi want to wear a diaper?" she asks him, opening 
up a diaper that she'd poked a hole in the bottom of (For 
his tail) with my knife.
	I start to rub Kioshi's stomach. He falls over on his 
back, and starts to pant with euphoria. She opens the 
diaper, and I raise his back side. She slips it on him, and 
closes it up tapping the two ends together. Again, another 
prefect fit! There were three diapered individuals in my 
room. It did not stay on very long, though; Kioshi soon tore 
it off. It was funny while it lasted, though.
	That night we slept together. It was a good night. I 
woke up the next morning, with my hand in warm water, 
wearing a soaked diaper. She'd done that bed-wetting trick 
on me, which at the time I thought was pretty funny (I did 
it on her another time when she slept in my room)
	It was a nice get together, and she left with some 
diapers in the bottom of her book bag soon after. To this 
day she still wears diapers.
	More weeks pass, and school starts. Because school has 
started again, I'm forced to quit my job at 7/11 (Work 
really kills my grades). In place of that job, I took a laid 
back job at Wall-mart (They had an opening my friends told 
me)
	No-one at school ever found out that I was wearing 
diapers. I wore them the whole year. They found out about my 
girl friend, though, but they were very merciful, because 
some of her grade school friends were present, and they said 
that "She's still in diapers. She's been in them all her 
life." and things straightened themselves out.
	Anyway. The years go by, with me still in diapers, and 
I eventually graduate. . I study at home, and my girl friend 
eventually moves in with me. I'm still at home to this day, 
my girl and I are engaged to be married. My father gave me A 
LOT of money, and I soon plan to move out. I put most of it 
in the bank. This has been my story, thanks for reading.