diaper | My Retraining

Main Sections

My Retraining

Author: Anonymous

I was in my early teens when my dad took off. It really upset my applecart, so to speak. I started having really violent spells when I'd hit, kick or punch anything in sight, just to get rid of my anger and frustration. I had other symptoms too, like moodiness, poor appetite and, worst of all in my mother's eyes, I had become a bed wetter again.

My mom wasn't in the best of shape to deal with me so she recruited my older sister to help look after me. Terry, my sister, is twelve years older and she had just finished her third year of psychiatric nursing. Since I was acting "crazy", mom thought Terry was the best person to look after me. It was agreed that Terry and I would go to the family cottage for at least a month.

Our family's cottage is 90 miles from the family home but only half an hour from the city where Terry was going to college. That was a big plus for Terry since it meant she could keep up with her college friends. Mom had promised to pay Terry for her time and that made my sister even happier.

I didn't really care. All I knew was that I was miserable and that I was in trouble with mom in a big way. Spending the summer at the cottage seemed pretty good compared to the screaming matches that happened every time mom found wet sheets on my bed in the morning.

Terry and I set off to the cottage but instead of taking the usual route we ended up at her university. I thought she just wanted to pick up a few things from her apartment in town but she drove to the university campus and parked next to the teaching hospital. I knew it was a hospital for kids because she had taken me there after I got a touch of frost bite when I visited her during Christmas break.

Terry told me to get out of the car using a tone of voice that made me bite back a "Fuck Off!". She escorted me into a long hallway. I tried to read the signs as we turned this way and that but it was only when we got to the one labeled, "C. Johnson MD, Program Head, Juvenile Psychiatry" that I had any clue what was going on. I was about to tell Terry that I didn't need a shrink but the door was already being opened and before I knew it I was looking at C. Johnson herself.

She was a lot to look at. On the young side of forty, she was slim and had that easy kind of good looks that make any woman of her type the prettiest in the room. Being a shrink also made me putty in her hands, as I was about to find out.

C. Johnson became Cheryl as soon as the introductions were over. The conversation went pretty smoothly.

"So, Terry, this is Jamie. You've told me so much about him. Any new developments?"

Terry relaxed back into her chair and threw me a Cheshire cat smile before she said anything. "Nothing new. He's still violent, still abusive and still wetting the bed every night."

I opened my mouth to protest but Cheryl reached across the desk and gently gripped my arm. "Don't be shy. I'm Terry's thesis supervisor and she has discussed your case with me already. I'll be the consulting physician from now on."

Her touch had a strange effect on me even as her words sent new questions churning. Consulting physician? What was there to consult on? I wanted to protest or at least find out what she meant but the warmth of her hand on my bare arm, the faint traces of her perfume and her self confidence held me in a spell.

She turned her attention to Terry. "Do you have the paperwork done?"

Terry nodded and handed over a few legal looking papers. I recognized my mother's signature. Cheryl looked at them briefly, smiled and then set them aside. She squeezed my arm gently as she turned back to me.

"Do you trust me, Jamie?"

I felt my cheeks flush again. They had turned crimson at Terry's mention of my bed wetting and now I was the center of attention. I didn't like it.

I shook my head slightly and mumbled, "I dunno, guess so."

The grip on my arm tightened. She wasn't going to let me stare at the floor. She wanted my attention. Part of me was more than willing to give it to her but another part of me felt a little scared at this two-on-one situation. Another whiff of her perfume changed my mind and I found myself gazing into her hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle with power.

It was as if her next words were delivered by the touch of her hand rather than her voice. I felt them instead of hearing them. "You are hurting because a trust bond was broken when your dad left. You will hurt until a new trust bond is built. Your mom can't handle it right now but your sister can. I want to help you build that trust bond. Will you let me help you?"

I nodded without breaking eye contact. The mention of my father had suddenly made me start to cry and before I knew it I was sobbing uncontrollably.

Cheryl looked at Terry and said, "He's the best candidate I've seen. I'll bet this emotion turns violent pretty easily."

I hadn't stopped looking at her as she said this. Her words and her touch suddenly made me trust her. I didn't care what she wanted to do. I had a sudden surge of faith that the two women in this room were the only people I could count on. I started to cry even harder.

Cheryl got up from her desk without letting go of my arm and escorted Terry and me toward the sofa set in the corner of her office. After we were settled and someone helped dry my tears Cheryl got to the point.

"Jamie, I want you to keep an open mind. Do you think you can hear me out without reacting?"

I nodded, still feeling safe and secure. Cheryl started to speak in a soft but firm tone. "The earliest bond between care-giver and child is comfort. By keeping a baby dry and comfortable a trust bond in formed. We want to recreate that bond."

I sniffled, still awash in my warm fuzzy feelings from Cheryl's touchy-feely maneuver.

She continued, "Terry and I have been doing some research involving diapers...."

My head snapped up in surprised suspicion. Cheryl laid her warm soft hand on my arm and let me calm down for a moment before she continued.

"We've found that a brief return to diapers in the care and custody of a care-giver can do wonders to restore a patient's confidence in the world."

My warm fuzzy was turning luke-warm fast. I gripped her arm and said, "You want me to wear diapers?"

She nodded and I felt a pit form in the bottom of my stomach. I started to turn away but Cheryl took my head in her hands and made me look at her. Those eyes began their bewitching as soon as I looked into them.

"Yes, Jamie, we are going to put you back into diapers - but only for a few weeks. It'll be at the cottage, mostly, or here at the Institute but no one but us will know."

Looking into her irises I felt the trust return. It was hard, really hard, to look into her eyes and think about what she was saying. She kept saying reassuring things, soothing my fear and shame. I glanced at Terry and saw the smirk had been replaced by a seemingly sincere look of concern.

Cheryl kept explaining how it was all so harmless, how it would all be so private and how it really was all for the best. Slowly it began to work on me. Soon it sounded like the most natural thing in the world and the more she talked about the privacy at the lake the more I found myself nodding. I guess I would have agreed to anything just to stay in those warm powerful eyes.

Before I knew it we were all standing up and moving toward the doorway. I had a sinking feeling that I had agreed to something that I wasn't going to like but I couldn't put my finger on it.

We went back into the spotless corridors, the three of us walking in step. I wanted to ask where we were going but it didn't seem right, didn't seem the thing to do. Soon we were passing wards with beds in them occupied mostly by little kids but some were as big as me.

Finally we turned into a small examination room. There was a large table in the center of it, covered by a paper sheet. Cheryl closed and locked the door and then motioned for me to get on the table. Terry started to sort through a cupboard at the end of the room.

I felt scared, "Uhm, what are we here for?"

Cheryl smiled as she guided me to lie down on the table. Then she sent her long slim fingers to work on the snap of my shorts. It was all I could do not to stop her.

"Ssssssh," Cheryl cooed, "it's best that we start right now. Just relax and we'll have you all bundled up nice and comfy in a few seconds."

Her touch and voice lulled me into a feeling of security. I let her open my shorts and pull them and my underwear down my thighs. The paper sheet felt strange beneath my buttocks. The cool air seemed to scream out my nudity and I tried to cover myself but Cheryl moved my hands away.

Even after Terry passed the extra large disposable diaper to Cheryl I felt unable to move. Cheryl fluffed it out, an exact replica of the Huggies and Pampers I had seen kids in my neighborhood wear.

Terry came up along the other side of the table. I felt her hands on my naked hips and I obediently lifted my bottom.

I looked into Cheryl's eyes as I sensed the diaper being slid beneath me. They were warm eyes, trust-filled eyes and confident eyes. I focused on them as I lowered my bare bottom onto the paper lining.

It was warm, warmer than the paper sheet - and soft, softer than the thin padding on top of the table. I stared hard into Cheryl's eyes while Terry expertly drew the diaper up between my legs, forcing them a little wider apart in the process.

As soon as the thick crotch of the diaper began to caress my genitals I began to get hard from the strange sensation. It was embarrassing but already the diaper tapes were being fastened, making the garment snug, hiding the erection and enclosing me in soft warm padding.

It was an incredible feeling, it was as if the diaper was covering all of me, not just my loins. I heard myself gasp with surprise. All this time Cheryl never let my eyes stray from hers. As the diaper had enclosed me it was as if she had held me in her power while it had happened.

I flexed my thighs against the strangely thick padding and squirmed a little. Cheryl's hazel eyes shifted toward Terry for a second before she said, "And now for your plastic pants."

I looked up at Terry just in time to see her fit a pair of frosty plastic panties over my ankles. The elastic on the legs and waist bands felt scratchy as she worked the panty up my legs and over my knees. Then I had to lift my hips again while both women worked the panty up over my diaper and into place.

Cheryl helped me off the table. As soon as I stood I was very much aware of the diaper's bulk between my thighs and a growing, gentle warmth as it and the plastic pants trapped my body heat. It was so distracting that even after Cheryl handed me my shorts I couldn't seem to remember to put them on and she had to do it for me.

Lucky for me that I had been wearing a larger size of shorts. They only barely covered the diaper and plastic pants and were tight enough to press the diaper against me. I took a few trial steps and felt myself waddle from all the padding. Worst of all there was a tell-tale crackling sound from the diaper and the plastic pants. I looked up at Cheryl and blurted out, "I'm scared. It feels funny and everybody will know I'm diapered - they'll laugh!"

Cheryl crouched down and took my hands in hers. Her touch reassured me. "The only people who will know," she said quietly, "are those people who are caring for you or other kids who will also be in diapers. C'mon. I'll show you."

She led me back out to the corridor. We went to a large window that overlooked an enclosed outdoor play area. There were about two dozen kids playing in there and all wore only a T-shirt and diapers. A few of the kids were even older than me.

I looked down at my bulging shorts and then caught my reflection in the glass. I had to admit that it wasn't really that obvious that there was a diaper under my shorts. I tried to relax while Terry and Cheryl led me out of the building.

It was a short walk for them but it seemed miles long to me. With every step the diaper shifted, rubbing me in very sensitive places and reminding me of its presence. The longer I wore the plastic pants the hotter they got. By the time we reached the parking lot I was having second thoughts about the whole deal but it didn't seem to be the right time to complain, especially since Cheryl hadn't let go of my hand since the examination room and I really liked having her touch me.

We stopped beside a green mini-van and I was surprised when Cheryl unlocked the large side passenger door and motioned for me to get in. There was a clear space behind the driver's and passenger's seats but the rest of the van was full of big boxes with the names of medical supply companies stenciled on them. I was staring hard at them when Cheryl tapped me on the shoulder, "Strip down to your diapers, please. I have new clothes for you to wear from now on."

I was suddenly scared but one look at her eyes began to melt my resistance. Without moving my eyes away from hers I pulled off my T-shirt, peeled down my shorts and slipped off my socks and shoes. I put my hands on the plastic pants but she gently grasped my wrists and pulled them away.

"No...." she cooed. When I said `down to your diapers' that included the plastic panties. Besides, it's a big rule that you must never touch your diapers and plastic panties or try to put your hands inside them." I nodded mutely. Then Terry handed her a garment.

Cheryl fluffed it out. I had never seen one before then but I now know it to have been a diaper shirt, basically a T-shirt with a cotton panty attached, making it a sort of body suit for toddlers. Only this one was too big for a toddler - it was made of pale blue jersey cotton and meant for me.

Cheryl bunched the material down to the waist part of the panty and held it open so I could step into it. I did so reluctantly, persuaded only by my crush on Cheryl. She pulled the panty part up my legs and over my diaper. Then I had to hold out my arms in front of me so she could fit the sleeves. Finally the garment was fastened up my spine using buttons that were enclosed in little pockets after being fastened. Later I would discover that this made it almost impossible for me to open them by myself. But for the moment I was happy to have my diapers hidden from view. At Cheryl's command I scampered into the passenger seat and fastened my seat belt. A few moments later we were headed for the cottage. Terry followed in her car.

I was surprised when Cheryl pulled into a Burger King. She entered the drive-through lane and ordered a large diet Sprite with no ice. I started to ask for some fries but she shushed me and told the order taker that the drink was all we would need.

I started to ask Cheryl why I couldn't have some food but she shushed me again and told me to be quiet for now. When the drink came she told me to drink it all and then she would explain. A few seconds later we were back on the road again. I couldn't see Terry's car any more and I guessed she had gone on to the cottage ahead of us.

I didn't really want the drink but I gulped it down to please Cheryl. Having the straw in my mouth meant I couldn't talk and so I studied her. She was wearing a summer suit and I thought her nylons and high heeled white pumps looked really classy and sexy. She had taken off the suit jacket before climbing in and her blouse was sheer and elegant without being too immodest or suggestive. She had a respectable bosom but nothing showed from under her slip and blouse. As I stared I realized my diaper was getting hot and itchy. Remembering that I wasn't supposed to touch it I squirmed in my seat.

Cheryl glanced over, "Itchy?". I nodded while making a show of drinking the Sprite. She smiled and turned her attention back to the road. "You'll get used to it."

But I couldn't seem to get used to it. The diaper seemed to wrap my most private and sensitive places in a warm damp blanket. If not for the odd itch here and there it might have been even pleasant. As I stared down at the strange bulge at the crotch of the one piece garment I noticed that I now experienced two worlds: one confined inside the tight elastic bands of the plastic panty and the big world I shared with everyone else.

Although no one but me could know what happened in my diaper world it nonetheless colored everything I said did and felt. It was like wearing a pair of sunglasses, everything was colored by what I wore between my legs.

Cheryl kept an eye on me from the corner of her eye and I found myself staring at her from time to time. The more I studied her the prettier she became and anytime I felt anxious about wearing a diaper and this strange sort of body suit the memory of her touch and the occasional trace of her perfume seemed to calm me.

She wasn't talking very much so I stared out the window. I could feel a pressure building in my bladder and so I began to struggle with what it would really mean to be wearing a diaper. I guess I started squirming a bit because Cheryl said to me in a calm, soothing voice, "I know you'll need to pee soon. Don't worry about it. Just let it happen. Pretend you're a little kid who has no control. Just relax. Let it happen."

Her voice began to blend with the road noise and the roar of the wind. She repeated the soothing thoughts over and over again until my eyes began to feel heavy. Soon I could smell her perfume more clearly and heard only her voice.

My need to pee was increasing steadily but I was only a little uncomfortable, not desperate. I knew that we would get to the cottage soon and I thought I could hold on for that.

"Wet yet?" Cheryl asked softly.

A little startled, I looked at her as my cheeks burned at the overt reference to my diaper. I shook my head.

"Waiting 'till we get there?"

I nodded.

She flashed her perfect white teeth in an indulging smile. "There's no need to wait, Jamie. You're in diapers now. Waiting is only important if you need a toilet. You don't need a toilet anymore - or at least for a long while." Her tone softened into that same hypnotic, seductive, velvet tone. I watched her perfect lips make them and breathed in her power and confidence.

I felt myself relax into her presence, surrendering myself to her as though she could even breathe for me. Sealed inside the cockpit of her van and insulated from the outside world by speed and her touch on the controls I felt safe and secure for the first time in months.

I wanted my pee to start to flow of its own accord - just the way she wanted but in truth I had to urge it on more than a little. My fear of wetting had been groomed, like the nap of suede, into a new direction - that of welcoming the event. Her words continued in a soft monotone and I let her voice recede into the background as I tried to relax my bladder.

When it finally started I felt gripped by it. I was a child again, not caring about anything. Cheryl's voice continued to coax me and I relaxed some more, letting the warm wetness blossom around my erection and balls. Next to orgasm, it was the most wonderful, naughty feeling I had ever known.

On and on it went, a slow steady stream of hurt, fear, anxiety and pain that was magically transformed by the pads around my loins into the warmth of Cheryl's touch and caring.

I guess I must have gone into a bit of a daze because the next thing I knew Cheryl's normal voice was asking me if I felt better. I looked up to see that she was smiling like a proud mother and the twinkle in her eye said she knew I had wet.

I blushed and squirmed a little. Wearing the diaper was one thing, wetting it was another but having someone else know what was going on in my private little diaper world seemed invasive and humbling.

When I was sure Cheryl was busy with some traffic I ran my hands over the taunt blue cotton that covered the bulge of my diaper. It seemed so strange that beneath its placid shell such wonderful feelings were coloring my mind.

I pressed the bulge tentatively and was surprised that I could barely feel the pressure. The rest of the trip was lost in sensory daydreams as my imagination focused on the feelings from my diaper, the heat-retaining plastic pants and my bare feet on the new carpeting of the van.

***

I looked at the smirk on Terry's face and then glanced at my room again. It didn't look like it belonged to me anymore - maybe to some toddler or baby but not to me.

My bed had been stripped down to a white vinyl mattress cover that was so new I could smell it's chemical perfume. Two boxes of Pampers stood in the corner each marked "Institutional Use - Oversize". Beside them was a stack of what could only be cloth diapers and on the chair that usually served as my clothes rack there was a pile of frosty plastic pants in a variety of colors but obviously big enough for me. My dresser, usually the camping spot for my fishing gear, now featured a starched white cover and containers of Vaseline, baby powder and other baby supplies.

I opened my mouth to protest but Terry stepped forward and gently put her hand over my lips. "Shhhhh..." she cooed as she guided me to a sitting position on the bed and then made me sit down, "just relax and do what you're told. It'll be good. You'll see."

With her hand over my mouth I wasn't inclined to protest. Besides, Cheryl had almost hypnotized me in the car. I think the diaper had something to do with it too because it seemed to rob me of any ability to get mad. I was still spending too much effort balancing its strange sensations and everything else that was going on.

Before I knew it Terry was pushing me onto my back. A protest formed in my throat but one look at her made me stifle it. She took both my ankles in her left hand as she lifted them. Then I felt her fingers invade the crotch area of my diaper and plastic pants. When she turned her head I followed the motion and saw Cheryl standing in the door way.

"He has wet, but only once and the Pampers are taking care of it. I don't think he needs to be changed quite yet."

Cheryl gave me an indulging smile, "Do you need to be changed? Would you like a nice fresh diaper?"

Before I could recover from my surprise she turned back to Terry and said, "Since he's not exactly in tears about it, I agree. He'll probably be all right until we put him down." She looked at her watch. By my reckoning it was about 4:30.

"Yes. There's only a couple of hours before bed. Leave him in the diaper shirt until then." Terry nodded and stood up, essentially releasing me. Cheryl disappeared down the hall while my sister and I looked at each other.

A lot was said in those few seconds and all of it without a word being spoken. I lay there with my legs spread apart, a partly wet diaper cupping my groin and my room turned into a nursery. She stood and looked powerful, commanding. I waited for her to say something but she never did. After what seemed a long time she took my wrists, pulled me erect and then gave me a gentle push toward the door. Her playful slap on my diapered bottom was barely felt through all the padding.

Cheryl was making dinner in the kitchen. I went into the living room, suddenly feeling strange. Every time I took a step or moved or sat down I was quickly reminded that I was wearing a diaper. Every time I felt a twinge from my bladder I wondered what it would be like to wet the diaper again. My ears told me that the plastic backing of the Pampers and the plastic panty that covered it made crackling sounds when I walked. In short, I was too absorbed by what I was wearing to give much thought to television, playing outside or anything else.

I sat down on the floor cross-legged and thumbed through a comic book. The pressure in my bladder was growing steadily and I knew I would soon have to pee again. Only this time Cheryl wasn't here to soothe me into it. The more I thought about it, the worse it got and soon I was rocking back and forth. Then, without really meaning to, I relaxed enough to let it go.

The hot rush made me moan. I was captured by the sensations of what seemed to be a flood of warm water rushing into the diaper and being absorbed by the thirsty padding. I felt the urine progress down between my legs and then rise up along the my bottom. I was mesmerized by it and although my cheeks were burning from surprise and shame I had to admit that it thrilled me a little. As the pee began to cool the rush ended. Suddenly it didn't feel good anymore and the squishy feeling I got from my bottom made me feel dirty and ashamed.

I suddenly realized that Cheryl was watching from the kitchen door. "Still not used to it yet, huh?"

I shook my head.

"Don't worry, I know some kids at the hospital who have been in diapers for years and some of them say the same thing. Well, try not to focus on it too much. Terry and I will keep an eye on you and change you when you need it. Don't bother asking for a change, we'll pretend we didn't hear you."

She smiled one of her special smiles and half turned back to the kitchen. Then she stopped and turned back to face me before saying, "You're not allowed to take them off you know."

"Take what off?" I blurted out though I had already guessed what she meant.

She giggled. "Your diaper, silly! Think of it as doctor's orders. You'll be kept in diapers until we decide otherwise." There was a pause while she watched me instinctively rub my hands over the seamless cotton that protected my diapers from my probing hands. I could feel it all through the thin material: the waist band of the plastic panty, the hard little squares of the diaper tapes and the thick padding that was pressed so tightly against my most private places.

Just as I was about to say something, anything to get my dibs in, she shook my world again. "That's why the clothing is designed so you can't get your hands inside to get at your diapers or take them off."

I felt my jaw drop as the meaning hit me. I looked down at my bulging waist area and then up at her but by then she was gone and I was left to idly run my fingers over the taunt cotton shell and wonder what was to happen to me.

I guess I was still trying to digest what Cheryl had said by the time she called for supper. I ate my dinner slowly and without much enthusiasm. My diaper was wet and heavy as it clung to me with a clammy efficiency that felt awful. I wanted to beg for a change by then but Cheryl's words were still too fresh in my mind. I prayed they would change me but if my sister and her friend thought about my condition they didn't do anything about it.

Normally in the summer time I was allowed to stay up quite late, at least until 9:30 but it was just past 8 when Terry came into the living room, turned off the TV and before I could say a word, pulled me to my feet and began to lead me from the room as if I was a child too small to understand English.

"Hey!" was all I could manage to say and it sounded pretty limp, even to me.

"Hey yourself. Cheryl says you need extra sleep so its off to be for you. Don't make a fuss or you'll get in trouble."

It wasn't very far from the living room to my bedroom so it's not surprising that I hadn't thought up a smart retort by the time Terry pulled me into my room and pushed me onto my bed.

I was instantly aware of two things - a very strong dose of Cheryl's perfume had been sprayed around and there was a very strange looking garment on the bed beside me.

Cheryl was sitting on the chair in the corner. The pile of plastic panties had been moved to the floor but she played with a yellow pair as if she had never seen them before. She waited until I had locked eyes with her before she spoke.

"It's time you got your night diapers. You won't give us any fuss, will you? You're such a good boy. I really wouldn't want to have to punish you."

I gulped, "Punish me?"

She gave me a condescending look, "Yes, punish you. Diapers are a part of your therapy. Therapy makes you better. So if we have to be a little stern when it comes to the rules, we will be."

Without thinking, I blurted out, "So what are the rules?"

Cheryl lowered her gaze. She seemed to be studying the plastic panty as she spoke. "You will accept the fact that you will be kept in diapers until I decide otherwise. You will wait to be changed, without asking for a diaper change or complaining about being uncomfortable. You will do what you are told without back-talk or other fussing."

There was a pause while she ran her hands over the frosty plastic. "If you misbehave you will be punished. I won't tell you how you'll be punished but I promise you that you won't like it."

By the time she had finished my cheeks were crimson and even though I hadn't done anything I felt like bursting into tears.

"What's wrong," she asked.

I just sobbed. Nobody wanted to comfort me. Then after a while I heard Cheryl say, "Double diapers for overnight, Terry and make sure the sleeper is on tight enough to keep him out of trouble." Then she strode out of the room.

Terry looked at me impatiently. If you have to pee again do it now.

I shook my head, even though I probably could have let a little water go if I had wanted to. I was so desperate to be rid of that wet diaper I would have said or done anything.

Without another word, Terry rolled me onto my tummy and began to work on the buttons that ran down the back of the diaper shirt. I could feel the tight cotton loosening and only then did I realize how snug the garment had been and how good it felt to have it taken off.

I guess I must have been perspiring under the shirt because the air of the bedroom felt especially cool against my torso. Terry rolled me onto my back, making sure my diaper area came to rest on a plastic coated changing pad. She pulled the diaper shirt down my legs and then reached up for the waist band of my plastic pants.

"My goodness!" she said with artificial cheerfulness, "You have learned to use your diapers, haven't you. Such a big baby makes big pee pees!"

I bit my lower lip. I wanted to tell her not to be mean to me but I wanted to be let out of that wet diaper even more.

She had my plastic pants off in a jiffy and then she opened the tapes of the Pampers. She grabbed my ankles in my left hand and hoisted my bottom off the diaper while she slid it out from under me. Then, still holding my bottom high, she slid two Pampers beneath me. As she lowered my damp bottom onto the warm soft dry pads I thought nothing had ever felt so good.

Terry surprised me by reaching for a big can of baby powder and dusting me with it, front and back. The first diaper was pulled up between my legs and fastened. As its soft, warm lining made contact with my cool (but no longer damp) skin I heard myself gasp with delight. Terry smiled back and winked as she used a pair of scissors to poke holes in the crotch area of my diaper.

The second diaper was a whole new experience. Terry guided my legs further apart as she brought the diaper into position and as its tapes were being fastened I was overcome with a feeling of being bundled up in padding so well that nothing could ever hurt again.

She fitted a pair of frosty white plastic pants over my ankles and worked them to my knees before pulling me to my feet. That's when I found out just how thick my double diapers really were. It seemed as if the bulk at my crotch forced my legs miles apart but as I looked down at Terry's strong slim fingers working the plastic pants up my legs I saw that my feet really weren't very far apart at all.

She made me hold out my arms while she leaned over me, checking the waist and leg bands to make sure that all the diapers were captured inside the panty. Then she turned to the strange garment on the bed.

As she picked it up and got it ready for me to step into I realized it was a one-piece sleeper. I had only ever seen them on little kids. I thought of complaining that I didn't want to wear kiddie clothes but then I looked down at my bulging diaper panty and decided not to risk getting into trouble.

Before I knew it I had stepped into the legs that Terry had held open for me and she was fitting me into the garment. I had to hold out my arms so she could fit the sleeves over then and then I felt her raise the zipper that was at the back of the garment.

The blanket like material felt warm and cozy compared to the cool evening air. It was like wearing pajamas and I decided I really didn't mind it too much at all.

Terry went to get something from one of the drawers in my dresser. I tried to see what it was but she concealed it in her hand as she came toward me and ordered me to turn my back to her. Much as I was curious I did as I was told and soon her fingers were doing something to the zipper at the back of my neck. Suddenly there was a rasping sound followed by the snip of a pair of scissors. Terry told me to turn around.

"There you are." she said while gently guiding me onto the mattress. When I was positioned on the white vinyl cover she drew a light cotton blanket over me.

Suddenly my warm, safe secure little world got scary. I wanted my bed to be just like it used to be. "There's no sheets." I whined.

"That will come later." she said quietly, "Things aren't the way they were."

"But I'll be cold! I need more blankets!" I protested, hoping to delay her departure.

She shook her head, "you'll be fine; the sleeper will keep you toasty warm."

I changed position, fighting the bulk of the diapers between my thighs, suddenly very aware of being enclosed in the sleeper and not liking how the sleeper slid on the taunt vinyl.

Terry was watching me intently. After a few minutes of my squirming she said, "Remember, don't fiddle with your diapers, stay in bed until we come for you and don't ask for a diaper change - it won't do you any good." After a pause she continued with, "Good night, little Jamie." and turned off the light before slipping through the heavy curtain that was the door to the room.

I felt stunned. I didn't have even a pillow and as I tossed and turned on the mattress cover the slippery sounds began to terrify me. I didn't care what Terry had said, I wanted my flannel sheets and heavy blankets back, not to mention my feather pillow. It took me what seemed to be an eternity but in reality was likely about ten minutes to summon up the courage to speak.

"Terry? Cheryl?" I said in a mild calling voice. I knew they were only a few feet away, watching TV with the volume turned low.

There was no answer so I called again, this time a lot louder, "Terry? Cheryl?....I, I can't sleep. It doesn't feel right."

Still no response. I waited some more, passing the time by listening to the TV program and wishing I could be out there with them. Suddenly it seemed wrong to be in bed so early and to be bundled up in diapers like a baby.

I tried a new tack. "Can I come watch TV? I'm not tired yet."

I was rewarded with the sound of footsteps. Cheryl stepped through the curtain. "You're being naughty, you know. Doctor's orders are doctor's orders."

I searched her face for some sign that she wasn't mad at me but both her voice and expression were neutral.

"It doesn't feel right," I pouted softly.

"What doesn't feel right?" she said levelly.

I clutched at my sleeper, "This," and then ran my hands over the mattress cover, "and this." Suddenly I couldn't bear to meet her eyes so I stared at her sneakers while I waited for her response.

Her voice turned soft, understanding, compassionate, the way it had been in her office, "I know its tough but there is a schedule to keep up. If we let you stay up for an hour of TV you'll have to do something in return to speed up your therapy."

"What?" I whispered.

"Drink two bottles of milk and agree to sleep with a pacifier in your mouth."

I felt a spark of suspicion. "A pacifier? What's that?"

She turned on the warm charm in her voice. "Some people call it a soother - it's just a rubber nipple."

Now I knew what she was talking about. Picturing it in my head made me think of babies and that reminded me of what I was wearing. Somehow being in diapers didn't seem so bad when Cheryl was with me. A desire to be close to Cheryl blew away everything else in my mind and I nodded.

Cheryl took my hand and helped me to my feet. I still couldn't look at her but just her touch was wonderful. I caught a faint trace of her perfume and even though it was hard to walk in my double thick night diapers I felt thrilled to be beside her.

Terry got up from the couch and smiled at me before saying to Cheryl, "Want me to see to the bottles?"

Cheryl's voice had a professional tone in it when she said, "Sure. Lace them both. You know what to do."

I didn't know what the term "lace" meant but was too grateful to be near Cheryl to bother asking. She and I sat down on the couch and she made sure I snuggled up close. I was beaming with contentment and didn't bother to watch Terry get the bottles ready.

When Terry came back from the kitchen she was carrying two extra large baby bottles of warm milk. As soon as I saw them I knew I didn't want them but one look at Cheryl told me there was no use in trying to wiggle out of them. I took one of the bottles and put its warm rubber nipple to my lips. I could smell the milk before I tasted it and it seemed to bring back some ancient memory. I didn't have time to think about it because Cheryl took the bottle from my hands and pressed it into my mouth, forcing me to suck on it. I tried to move her hands but she was firm and so while the two women watched their program I sucked noisily on the bottle, trying not to choke.

As soon as the first bottle was empty Cheryl tried to put the second one to my lips. I tried to fuss so she pulled me across her lap into the classic nursing position and supported the back of my head with her right hand while using her left to guide the bottle. My hands fluttered uselessly for a second before I gave up and began to suck again. My tummy was pretty full from the first bottle but I was sure Cheryl would get mad if I fussed any more.

By the time that bottle was full I felt bloated. Cheryl took it away and I looked up at her with hurtful eyes. "That wasn't nice!" I sniffled.

She looked down at me with an amused grin. "You could have spent the last half hour alone in your room."

I wasn't mollified, "It still wasn't nice." I pouted.

Cheryl didn't even skip a beat, "It wasn't supposed to be. It was the price you paid for staying up later. Now, if you don't be quiet right now I'll ask Terry to get your pacifier for you right away."

She seemed to grow hard and cold in an instant. "That's it! Terry, get the pacifier with straps if you please. I think a pair of mittens are also in order."

While Terry got up from the couch Cheryl pushed me off her lap and into a sitting position. Then she drew both my wrists behind my back and held them tightly.

I pulled against her grip. "I hate you!" I screamed and kept on screaming until Terry came back with some strange looking stuff in her hands.

Cheryl pushed me onto my tummy on the couch, still holding my wrists. I felt her and Terry each take a wrist and fit something strange over my hands. There was some tightening and fumbling and then, to my astonishment, my wrists were joined together, still behind my back.

Trussed like a chicken I was hauled to my feet just in time to see the over-sized amber soother before it was pushed into my mouth. There was a tangle of leather straps which were quickly drawn into place around my head and tightened, all despite my grunting, squirming protests.

The soother had a big plastic bulb on it that seemed to fill my mouth without choking me. I could breath all right but the big plastic shield of the device felt strange on my lips and I felt a bit of drool start. I really didn't like this thing and tried to tell Cheryl and Terry but all I got out were angry grunts.

Satisfied with my condition, the women pulled me back toward my room. I was pushed onto my bed and my hands were unfastened. Before I could react they were gone.

The room swirled around me in confusion. I held up my hands to see that they were now confined in huge canvass mittens. The inside lining was slippery and loose. I tried to grip the little buckles that kept them on my wrists but soon gave up.

I next turned my attention the straps that held the soother in place but they were at the back of my head and were also too small for me to grip while wearing the mittens.

I was mad but all I could make were muffled grunting sounds. I was really uncomfortable and the sound of the women in the other room laughing at jokes on the TV made me even angrier.

I heard someone coming toward my room, likely on the way to the bathroom. I rolled onto my feet heavily, ready to confront whoever it was and make them take the damned thing out of my mouth.

The footsteps stopped. I guessed she had heard the floor boards creak. There was a moment of silence before her cool words pierced the thin curtain like shards of glass: "If you leave that bed I'll make sure you're fastened to it from now on."

My anger burst like a bubble. The adrenaline drained from me. Suddenly the sleeper seemed too hot, my diapers too thick, the mittens too tight and the soother too big. They pressed inward on my world each irritant reminding me of Cheryl and the control she had over me.

I slowly sank onto the mattress, sitting at first, then lying down. Cheryl's footsteps disappeared and then I heard the bath room door.

The room was dark and I `saw' with my senses, feeling all the strange things my body experienced. I suddenly realized I had to pee very badly and before I really knew what was happening there was a warm blossom between my thighs. My imagination tracked the wetness as it crept downward into the seat of the diaper.

A feeling of weakness and fatigue washed over me. I felt myself drift into sleep despite my discomforts.

Chapter Two

The next morning I awoke bathed in sweat. The cottage heated up pretty quickly and if you slept in much past eight o'clock you didn't need an alarm clock. As soon as I came awake I felt faint from the heat and knew I had to move my bowels very soon.

I felt slimy everywhere, especially around my mouth where the plastic shield of the soother had made me drool all night. When I moved my head I could feel a puddle of wetness on the vinyl mattress cover.

The sleeper had become damp from my perspiration and the clump of diapers between my legs had turned into a hard wet lump that chaffed the insides of my thighs.

I groaned into the rubber thing in my mouth. It had made my jaws ache and of all my miseries it was one of the worst. I thought about getting out of bed but remembered what had happened just before I had fallen asleep.

My bottom felt really full and I turned onto my tummy to see if it lessened the pressure any. It had the opposite effect and I grunted some more as the pressure built. I wanted to turn over again to stop things from happening but I was afraid to move.

Having my weight on my tummy wasn't very good either so I got up on all fours. This was the easiest to bear but I suddenly sensed my control weakening. The next little spasm was more than I could handle and suddenly my bottom was oozing hot mush into the seat of my diapers.

I heard myself make surprised little grunting sounds as the need to expel took control of me. My arms got tired and I took my weight on my elbows but my bottom stayed high in the air as nature took its course.

I grunted and moaned, dreading yet welcoming the release. It felt awful and I hated the warm soft pudding- like feeling.

When it was over I felt frozen to the spot, afraid to move. I listened to my labored breathing and smelled my own sweat mixed with the vinyl of the mattress cover, stale spittle and faint traces of baby powder and Cheryl's perfume.

Holding my buttocks high like that let me feel how heavy my diaper had become. I could only remember having wet once, just before going to sleep. I must have wet during the night and that scared me. Memories of summer camp and kids being taunted for being bed wetters flooded into my mind. I began to tremble.

Cheryl's voice startled me: "That looked interesting."

I looked sideways to see that she had slipped through the curtain. I guess she had watched me mess.

She was wearing a pair of white shorts and a bikini swimsuit top. As soon as I saw her I caught her perfume. It dissolved me into tears and my heart sang when I saw her expression soften.

"There, there," she cooed while she sat down on the bed and began to guide me into lying on my tummy, "I'm here now and it's a new day. We'll get you fixed up right away."

I sobbed with relief that she had come and that I wasn't in trouble anymore. I could barely keep still while her nimble fingers worked at the buckles of the soother harness. As soon as it was loose she gently eased it from my mouth and quickly wiped my lips and chin with a clean dry cloth.

I let my tongue explore its new freedom while my mittens were removed. Just being close to Cheryl made me feel better, even though every movement I made caused the load in my diaper to shift.

I was mesmerized with her as she stripped off the sleeper and then led me down the hall to the bath room where I stood in the tub while she lowered my plastic panty and expertly loosened the diapers.

I took a deep breath and trembled with apprehension while the heavy, messy diapers were lowered down my legs. Cheryl expertly popped them into a plastic bag and sealed it. Then she reached for the hand-held shower nozzle and made sure the temperature was just right before turning me around and sending the warm stream of water on its mission to my bottom.

"That feels better, doesn't it?" she said over and over again as the she used the shower to clean me up. I had long since stopped crying but I felt mute, unable to say anything. For the first time since going to bed I felt safe and cared-for and I didn't want that to change - not ever.

She dried me off with a big fluffy towel and then took me by the hand to lead me back to my room. I was stark naked and it felt funny to not have thick padding between my legs.

As soon as we entered my room the spell began to wear off. She asked me to stand quietly while she got a diaper ready for me. I watched her go to the big box of Pampers and take one out. I gulped and felt my face turn red. "Uh," I gasped, "Do I have to wear a diaper?"

Cheryl gave me an indulging smile. "Still thinking about how you spent the night, huh? Well, yes, you do have to wear a diaper and no, it won't always be like last night." She paused until that had sunk in and then said, "Jamie, you were bad last night and so you were punished. If you do as you are told there will be no punishments. So why don't you scoot over here right now and get diapered before you risk another punishment."

That was all I needed. I got up onto the bed and put my naked bum, still warm from the shower, onto the middle of the Pampers. Cheryl powdered my diaper area and then taped the diaper snugly. She worked a pair of blue plastic pants up my legs and then put me into the same pale blue diaper shirt I had worn yesterday.

At first the diaper felt warm and soft but by the time she was fastening the buttons on the diaper shirt the plastic pants were making me sweat and the diaper shirt was putting a lot of pressure on the bulge between my legs. I grunted and said, "I don't like this thing it makes the diaper too tight."

Cheryl was behind me and she leaned forward to rest her chin on my shoulder, very affectionately, as she replied. It gave me a strong dose of her perfume. "Hush now. The diaper shirt is tight so you'll feel your diaper all that much more. And these special buttons are designed so you can't reach around and take the diaper shirt off. Don't bother to even try or you'll be punished."

I decided to keep quiet. When she had finished with the shirt I looked for my socks and shoes but they were still in the van. Cheryl told me I wouldn't be allowed shoes for the time I was in diaper therapy.

We joined Terry for breakfast and I began my first full day of "diaper therapy". It was pretty simple, really. I wore a diaper, plastic pant and a cover shirt - nothing else. If I made mention of the fact I was in diapers neither woman acknowledged what I had said. Every now and then one of them would check my diaper and change me if I was wet.

The best part was swimming time, about mid-morning. I was taken to my room where my diaper was removed and my regular swim suit put on. It felt wonderful to wear something normal again and I scampered down to the dock happy as a lark. Terry and Cheryl came in swimming with me and for about an hour I almost forgot about diapers and how I had spent the night.

Terry got out of the water first, leaving Cheryl and me to play a while longer. I thought nothing of it until I saw her coming down from the cottage. She had changed into a dry bathing suit and she was carrying a fresh Pampers and a pair of plastic panties for me.

I felt the smile vanish from my face and I stopped horsing around with Cheryl the moment I saw the diaper in Terry's hand. I glanced at Cheryl quickly, hoping against hope that she would not make me wear diapers again right away, but her face was set in a determined look. "It's OK," she whispered as if she was actually helping me, "you'll get used to wearing and using your diapers soon."

"But I don't want to get used to it..." I moaned as Terry reached down for my hands.

"Buck up, there kiddo." Terry chided as she peeled down my bathing suit, leaving me wet, naked and shivering, even though it was probably one of the hottest days of the summer.

I watched her spread out the giant hour-glass shape of the Pampers on the dock. Why did she have to do it here where any boater could see? I looked around anxiously but the lake was empty. At Terry's bidding I slowly lowered myself onto the waiting diaper. It and the dock were both warm from the sun and I couldn't help but feel a rush of security as the warm dry pads were drawn up between my legs and taped snugly. I watched Terry fit the semi-transparent plastic pants over my ankles and work them up my legs. Then I lifted my hips to let her pull them over the diaper. Shortly after that the familiar heat blossom started as the plastic pants and diaper trapped my body heat.

I stood up, took a step and immediately felt the familiar chafing and heard the tell-tale crackle of the plastic diaper shell and the waterproof panty. Cheryl was right - I was getting used to it in a way.

"No diaper shirt?" Cheryl asked Terry as they watched me get used to being in diapers again.

Terry directed her reply more to me than Cheryl, "Oh I thought we might try a few hours without it. If a certain somebody can keep his hands off his baby gear he just might earn a reward or two."

"Or at least avoid another punishment..." Cheryl said coyly as she climbed onto the dock. "Let's see if you're right. Dry diapers are one thing, wet or messy ones are another. He's probably emptied his bladder a couple of times while swimming - why don't you get him a bottle or two to prime his pump a little."

I looked a Cheryl with eyes burning from betrayal. She was supposed to be helping me! Now, thanks to her, I was going to have to drink a lot so I would wet my diapers.

She escorted me up the short hill to the cottage. Without the diaper shirt I could hear and see my diapers and plastic pants very easily. It was hard not to run my hands over them, to feel so much from inside and yet be prevented from feeling anything from the outside.

Both women kept a sharp eye on me as I forced myself to drink two baby bottles full of Kool-aid. By the time the last bottle was empty I was feeling really full.

The women stretched out on lounges on the deck to sun themselves. I quickly discovered I wasn't allowed out of their sight, mostly because I wasn't wearing a diaper shirt or other clothing that would prevent me from touching my plastic pants or diaper. Having nothing better to do, I let Terry rub sun screen all over me and then sat in a corner of the deck in the sunshine, feeling the hot sun turn my diaper into a sauna while my bladder filled. It wasn't long before I was squirming (to their delight) and wetting myself.

I had been able to resist the itches and scratchiness when the diaper was fresh and dry. It was harder after the sun went to work on things but after I was forced to wet myself it was almost impossible. As sensing this, both Terry and Cheryl kept an eye on me as I struggled to control the urge to plunge my hands beneath the waist of my plastic pants and diaper and scratch like mad.

Finally I said, "Do I have to sit in the sun?"

"No." Terry said, "you just have to stay in sight.... unless of course you would like a nice tight diaper shirt or sleeper... then you can go anywhere you want."

I made a face at that suggestion and then crawled into the shade part of the deck.

After a while Terry went in to make lunch. It was served on the deck and by the time I sat down to my sandwich it was all I could do not to scratch at the hundreds of itchy points inside my steamy diaper and plastic panty. I must have been squirming a lot because both women looked at me and smiled condescendingly.

When the meal was over I volunteered to clear the table. Both Cheryl and Terry had a couple of glasses of wine with their sandwiches and so I thought they might not notice that I was out of their sight while inside the cottage.

I was right. Both women returned to their lounge chairs while I took the first and second loads of dishes to the kitchen. By the third load I was pretty sure they were both too sleepy to notice how long I was gone. So on my next trip I stayed in the kitchen the extra second it took for me to plunge my hands inside my diaper and scratch at all the itchy places that were driving me crazy. It was wonderful and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from moaning with pleasure. Then I went out to the deck and cleared the rest of the table.

I started to run the water to wash the dishes but Terry called for me to come out to the deck. When I walked through the screen door to the deck neither woman looked sleepy any more. They were standing side by side with curious looks on their faces. I was immediately on my guard.

"Lets have your hands." Cheryl said simply.

I held them out and she opened a small foil package. It contained a folded towelette which she used to wipe my hands. To my amazement streaks of purple appeared all over my fingers and part of my palms. There were disapproving murmurs.

Cheryl led the attack. "What's the rule about hands inside diapers?" she demanded and then continued before I could answer. "This proves you broke our trust. As soon as you were alone in the kitchen you behaved very badly."

I felt tears well up in my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whimpered, "I was so itchy...."

"That doesn't matter," Cheryl continued, "you've been bad and now you must be punished." She turned to Terry. "Any ideas?"

Terry adopted a far-away look. "Double diapers, Ducolax and a strait jacket? Until morning?"

Cheryl cringed visibly. "Easy, girl. Don't play all your cards at once." She turned to me. "Double diapers it is, with a suppository and you'll wear double cuffs instead of a strait jacket and only until supper." Turning to Terry she said, "Don't try that kind of routine over-night unless you're prepared for a very tired and cranky patient the next day." Then she strolled off the deck like a monarch.

It must have been nearly 100 degrees on that deck but I suddenly felt cold. I didn't know what a strait jacket was, or `double cuffs' or Ducolax for that matter but I was well acquainted with double diapers and by the look in Terry's eyes I was in for a bad time.

My throat had turned to saw dust. "What's a strait jacket?" I rasped nervously.

Terry crossed her arms over her chest, "It holds your arms like this so you can't get into any more trouble."

"...And the cuffs?"

"You'll find out soon enough." she said with just a hint of satisfaction.

A long second passed while I tried to digest that. Then Terry stepped forward and guided me toward the door to the cottage, "Come along, we may as well get started."

Cheryl was in my room when we got there. She had spread out a fresh Pampers on the bed and there were two sets of what looked like leather hand cuffs beside it.

Without saying a word, Cheryl reached out peeled down my plastic pants. Then she put her hands on my shoulders and guided me onto the waiting diaper. I felt her fingers on the tapes at one side of my diaper. She released it and then hoisted my legs into the air. Before I knew it, Terry had passed her something and it was being pushed into my bottom. A protest choked in my throat while my half-wet diaper was refastened. Then the second diaper was applied.

As soon as I felt the same bulk that had been part of my punishment last night I got really scared. I pleaded to be let off but the women ignored every word I said.

Once my plastic pants were back in place they had me stand and then Terry told me to hold out my arms in front of me. Each of them took a set of the leather handcuffs and bound one of my wrists. This left a cuff dangling free on each wrist.

I was really confused. Standing and then moving in the double thick diapers was bad enough but as they led me back out to the deck I began to tremble with fear. At the same time I felt a strange itch from inside my bum and the memory of having messed myself that morning sent panic surging through me.

As soon as we got to the deck Cheryl and Terry had me sit down in the shade with my back to the cottage wall. Then they made me flex my knees and at the first touch of the spare leather cuffs on my ankles I suddenly understood what it was all about. I whined in protest but their nimble fingers soon had the buckles tight.

If it hadn't been for the double diapers it might not have been too bad but being forced to reach forward as if to grasp my ankles put a lot of strain on my lower back and crotch. The extra padding fought the position and although I struggled a little there was nothing I could do to get comfortable.

"Awww..." I began to complain but stopped short when Terry produced the soother and harness I had worn last night. I really wanted to complain but I didn't want it as much as I hated that soother thing.

Without a word Cheryl went back to her lounge chair and Terry disappeared into the cottage. She was back a few seconds later with a baby bottle full of Kool-Aid. "You can hold this between your knees while you suck on it," she said while putting the bottle into position, "just remember - every time you drop the bottle I'll add another 15 minutes to your time in this punishment. Got it?"

I nodded and leaned forward that extra inch to bring my lips to the nipple. Just as I began to suck and swallow I felt the first cramp from my bottom.

It was hard, really hard, to keep that bottle between my knees, suck and try and fight the growing storm in my bottom. After a few minutes I was so miserable that I was determined to keep the bottle from falling just to avoid even one extra minute of punishment.

When Terry heard the raspy sounds of the bottle nearing empty she went into the cottage and prepared a fresh one. She also brought a cool damp cloth which she used to wipe the sweat from my forehead while she replaced the bottles.

"Uncomfy?" she cooed softly, sympathetically.

I nodded.

"There, now, it will be all right. Just a few more hours."

I whined a protest into the nipple of the bottle.

Terry smiled indulgently, "It won't do to complain. You knew the rules and you were bad. Bad boys get punished." She reached down to my bulging crotch and stroked it lightly. I could barely feel the pressure of her hand through all that padding. "Have you messed yet?"

I shook my head furiously. No, I had not messed. I was trying desperately not to mess.

"Not to worry. You will mess. It's part of the punishment so stop trying to fight it."

Two more bottles later the storm in my bottom broke. I had never before felt such a compelling need to expel. I lost track of everything else while my wrists pulled against their tethers to my ankles, deep moans and grunts punctuating some pretty disgusting sounds from my diaper area.

Terry came over to put the half-full bottle back between my knees. "Please," I gasped, "let me loose".

She shook her head slowly while she smiled as if addressing a toddler. "You dropped the bottle." she said simply. "That means an extra 15 minutes." She rose and strolled over to her lounge chair before I could say or do anything else.

It was the longest three hours of my life and I still don't know how I endured it. By the time Terry looked at her watch, near dinner time, and then released the cuffs from my ankles I felt permanently molded into that half crouch position. She had to help me to my feet and when I moved the load in my diaper shifted and I caught a whiff of what I had done down there.

I was one contrite little boy as she led me to the bathroom where my sodden and messy diapers were removed and I was sprayed clean. Then it was back to my room for two more diapers and the night sleeper. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. Terry took sympathy on me by giving me a bottle of "liquid meal replacement formula", turning off the light and letting me drift off to sleep. It was probably not much later than 6:45 p.m.

Chapter Three

I woke up the next morning when Cheryl started breakfast. I was soaked beneath my plastic panty but dry and warm everywhere else. Terry stuck her head through the curtain on the way to the bath room. "Hi. It's OK to get up, in fact you'd better get your padded bottom to the table right away. Cheryl wants to take you to the clinic for awhile and then we have some shopping to do."

I was a little stiff from my session on the deck yesterday afternoon but felt a lot better after my "big sleep". Cheryl greeted me warmly and then eyed the bulges made by my diapers.

"I presume you're soaked, young man."

I felt my face turn hot. I nodded while absent-mindedly running my hands over the blanket material of the sleeper.

"The nice part about sleepers and diaper shirts," Cheryl intoned as she turned her attention back to the stove, "is that they keep young hands from getting into trouble." She threw me a mother-knows-best look. "And I trust we'll have no more trouble from you."

I gulped and nodded. Two punishments were enough. Whatever they wanted me to do or wear - it couldn't be as bad as the punishments they dished out.

I ate my scrambled eggs and then went back to my room where Terry was waiting for me. She released me from the sleeper, stripped off my plastic pants and then sent me down the hall to the bathroom wearing just my diapers.

Cheryl had just finished her shower so she helped me out of the diapers, started the water running again and let me have a shower by myself. It was strange to be alone for a few seconds. Ever since we had left Mom, someone else had helped me in the bath room.

When I was finished Cheryl helped me to dry off and then sent me back to my room where Terry would diaper me for the day. The early morning air felt cool on my bottom and my room was even colder because Terry had opened the window to air the room out.

She was dressed and smiling as I scrambled onto my bed and put my bottom on the waiting diaper. She dusted me with powder and then taped the Pampers snugly. I immediately had that warm dry rush of comfort feeling and I must have giggled as she began to fit a pair of royal blue plastic pants over my ankles.

"My goodness," she exclaimed, "is it possible you've come to like your diapers."

I felt my cheeks get hot. "Sometimes its nice." I murmured but deep inside I knew she was right.

I had to wear a diaper shirt but I didn't really mind. I knew that with it on I couldn't get into trouble by putting my hands inside my plastic pants or diaper. Terry gave me a pair of loose shorts that hid most of my diaper bulges.

I was left to put my shoes and socks on and then Terry asked me to finish unloading Cheryl's van before the trip back to Kingston.

During that time Cheryl finished dressing. The next time I saw her she was wearing a trim business suit and high heels. Her perfume made my head spin and I knew I had a crush on her. When she asked if I would like to ride up front with her I blushed.

On the way into town I kept staring at Cheryl - her pretty face, full bosom and long slender legs. I'm sure she knew what was happening because she kept looking at me and smiling.

Just as we got to the outskirts of town I felt a small burst of pee arrive in my diaper. I must have gasped because both women asked me if I had just wet. Again I blushed and nodded but they just congratulated me and said I shouldn't try to hold my pee while in diaper therapy.

When we got to the university Cheryl took me inside while Terry took the van to do some grocery shopping. We went to her office where we sat on the couch and she asked me a lot of questions and we played some silly games that she called "exercises". After about an hour she said she had some work to do but that there were lots of kids here that I could play with while we waited for Terry to come back.

After I agreed she stood up and told me to slip off my shorts, socks and shoes. Then she released the buttons on my diaper shirt and took that off too. I was standing in front of her wearing nothing but a diaper and plastic pants. It felt very strange indeed.

She went to a closet and took out a piece of leather in the shape of a T. As she came toward me she explained that there were special rules for the play area. "You're pretty big and some of the girls are as big as you. We've found it makes sense if big babies like you have their diapers locked on so there's no risk of hanky-panky."

I gulped. "So?...."

"So we ask you to wear this retainer belt while you're in the play area."

I was nervous and suspicious. This sounded like a punishment but I was being asked to wear it. "How does it work?"

She held the cross bar of the T in her hands and let the stem drop toward the floor. "This part goes around your waist..." she pointed to the long stem of the T, "and this part runs between your legs. Want to try it?"

In truth I really wanted no part of it but standing there with her so pretty and me reduced to my diapers and plastic panty I didn't feel like I had a lot to say about it so I just nodded.

At her request I turned my back to her. She brought the belt into position around my waist with the crotch strap running downward from the front. I felt her tighten the waist portion then she pulled the long piece into place and I felt its pressure between my legs. Tighter and tighter it got but just before I was about to complain I heard the click of a pad lock and I felt her step away. "There, now. All done. The play area is down the hall to the left. There's a big sign."

Suddenly I was being escorted to the door. "Don't worry about time. I'll come for you." Then I was out in the hall, the hard polished floor cold on my feet compared to the carpet in Cheryl's office. I looked down at, but dared not touch, the wide black leather strapping that ran around my waist and between my legs. It was tight enough that I could feel it but not uncomfortable.

I looked down the corridor and saw a sign that said "Atrium - Observation Area" beside a big glass door. There was no one else in sight and so I walked slowly down the shiny hall way, half hoping and half dreading that I would meet someone else.

I peered into the play area but there was a row of hedges planted need the doors to stop the view from where I was standing. With the hall still empty and me feeling very exposed I decided to go through the door - it was a fire door crash bar type.

I was so nervous and scared that I was trembling as I moved past the screen of trees and got my first view of the play area.

There were about 10 kids in what was basically an indoor park. The five smallest ones, aged 6 to 8 were playing in a sand box. Two pre-pubescent girls were playing catch with a ball. Two early teen guys were playing badminton and a girl closer to my age was reading a magazine under a tree. They were all dressed exactly the way I was and all, like me, were bare foot. The girls all wore a tight fitting vest-like thing over their breasts that seemed to be made of the same elasticized material as tube tops. It hid all of the bosom and was obviously intended to stop wandering fingers too.

One by one I made eye contact with everyone. Only the oldest girl, the one reading under the tree even smiled. Feeling very self conscious I decided to walk toward her. The closer I got the more attractive she seemed. I also found myself staring at her semi-transparent plastic panties and the bulging Pampers diaper clearly visible beneath them.

She followed my gaze and smirked. "What are you staring at? They've got you all decked out the same way."

"Uh, sorry. I'm not used to meeting anyone....."

"Since they put you back into diapers?", she laughed cynically, "I guess not. Don't sweat it. You'll get used to it."

I sat down beside her, more to unlock my eyes from her diaper than anything else. I introduced myself.

"Lisa. Inmate number 458923," she sneered.

I was confused. "Inmate?"

She looked at me as if I was slow on the uptake, "Naw, I was kidding. Folks sent me here after I got busted for DWI. It was this or reform school." She patted the wide strip of leather that cleaved a path between her legs. "Maybe reform school would have been better."

Lisa told me she had been at the "place" for about a month. Her diaper therapy had been like mine - getting into trouble, really bad punishments and eventually not fighting it anymore.


Main Sections