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Diaper Stories

» » Adult Diaper Story 001 php « «

===== Part 01 =====

I was shocked. My father held up a disposable baby diaper that he'd found in my closet. He and my mother looked at me seriously.

"Do you like to wear these?" he asked me again.

Perhaps it was something in his voice, the total lack of anything threatening, but I answered, "Yes."

"Is it because they help keep your bed dry?"

"Yes ..."

Mom said, "Let me ask this way. If you had your choice, if nobody would know, would you wear diapers just to bed, or all the time?"

I swallowed. My throat had suddenly become very dry. "All the time," I answered.

"That's what we thought," Mom said. "Don't worry, dear, you're not in trouble. We just want to know about these things. Now, come upstairs."

"But I have to put my Legos away," I protested.

"No, you don't," said Dad. "You'll be right back to them in a minute. We just have to show you something first."

===== Part 02 =====

I was the last one up to my room, because my parents had such long legs compared to mine. The first thing I saw was Mom, holding open my underwear drawer so that I could see inside.

There were diapers in my underwear drawer.

As had happened when Dad had shown me the diaper he had found in my closet, I was too shocked to speak for what seemed like minutes. Mom took one of the diapers out and showed it to me. It looked bigger than the diapers I liked to put on at night. "Pharmacies in our area sell these for children with bedwetting problems ... and children like you," she said.

"You want me to wear those at night?" I asked, my eyes wide in amazement.

Dad answered, "No, we want you to wear them all the time. We can give your underwear away to Goodwill. That is, if that's what you want."

What an offer! How could I say no?

===== Part 03 =====

"Before you say yes," Mom said, holding the diaper, "you have to know what it means. You must use your diapers for everything, both number one and number two. You won't be using toilets anymore."

This sounded great to me. "Yes," I said.

"If we do catch you using a toilet, it's back to underwear for you, and we'll never make this offer again."

That limited my options, but it was fine with me. "Yes," I said.

"You'll be changed, or at least checked, in the morning, at noon, in the afternoon, and at bedtime."

That made sense. "Yes," I said.

"In between those times," she went on, "you'll have to ask one of us if you need to be changed, and that includes your sister. I'm sure she's gotten very good at changing diapers from her babysitting."

My sister? Well, of course she'd find out about this, if my parents hadn't already told her. "Yes," I said.

"When we go out, we'll be bringing along a diaper bag for you, and your father may have to change you in public restrooms."

That would be embarrassing, but who would see me? Only people I didn't know. "Yes," I said.

"Do you still want this?" Dad asked.

I swallowed again. What would happen if the other kids at school found out about it? What would my friends say? My mind found ways to rationalize everything. The kids at school would tease me, but I thought I could take it. And if my friends were really my friends, they'd stay my friends no matter what. Once again, I said, "Yes."

===== Part 04 =====

"All right," said Mom, "take off your shoes, pants and underpants and come sit on your bed."

I did. I hate when my shoelaces tangle when I'm in a hurry. I sat on the bed with my bare bottom. Mom had gotten some baby powder >from another dresser drawer.

She opened up the diaper and said, "OK, scoot back and lie down." When I did, she slid the back end of the diaper under me with my excited cooperation. She sprinkled powder all over the places that would soon be once more perpetually covered by diapers, and spread the powder with her hand. Then she flattened the front of the diaper against my groin and fastened it with the tapes.

Mom dusted her powdered hands off against each other and said, "All right, Chris, put your pants and shoes back on, and go finish playing with your Legos. It's almost bedtime, and tomorrow's a school day."

"Thanks, Mom," I said, and I meant it. It felt strange, wearing diapers instead of underwear under my pants, but it was exciting too. I'd dreamed of being able to wear diapers without having to hide it, and now my dream had come true.

===== Part 05 =====

It felt weird, I thought. The diapers filled my pants out, and they crinkled whenever I moved. As I played with my Legos on the living room floor in front of the TV, my thirteen-year-old sister Sarah walked by. "So, you're back in diapers now," she remarked.

"Yeah!" I answered. "Umm, Mom and Dad said I could ask you to change me?"

"They told me," she said, apparently unexcited. "Just don't ask too often." She sat down to watch TV.

"Chris, time for bed," called Dad from upstairs.

"Aww," I complained. I started putting my Legos away.

I took off my clothes and put on my pajamas, the fabric whispering against my diaper's outer plastic. I got in bed, but I found that I couldn't lie on my side like I always did, because my diaper bunched uncomfortably between my legs. I curled one leg upward, and the bunching eased. I supposed that I'd have to sleep like that from now on.

As I went off to sleep, I started dreaming about being a little baby again, sleeping in a crib, sucking on a pacifier ...

===== Part 06 =====

My alarm clock beeped. It was 7:00, time to get up. I was happy when I realized that I hadn't wet the bed overnight. Then I reached down to take my pajamas off and remembered that I was in diapers. They felt like very wet diapers, too. I had wet in my sleep, but the wetness hadn't made it to my bed.

I wasn't going to be able to get dressed until somebody changed my diapers. Nobody else was up yet, though, so I took my pajamas off and tried to change myself.

Everything went smoothly until Dad came in. I had rolled up the wet diaper and was reaching into the drawer for another one when I heard him say, "No, Chris; I'll change you."

He took out the baby powder and some baby wipes. As he cleaned my diaper region with one of the wipes he told me, "We've got to make sure you're cleaned off with every change, or you might get diaper rash." He finished and put a fresh diaper on me, then opened my closet door and tossed the old diaper into a diaper pail that I hadn't known was there. "OK, get dressed now," he said. I did, then I washed up in the bathroom, then I went downstairs for breakfast.

===== Part 07 =====

I was so scared that somebody was going to find out I had diapers on. The things made crinkling noises every time I moved, and I had to walk all the way to school! Okay, it was only six blocks, but it seemed like a mile in diapers.

I saw other kids, also on their way to school. They looked at me, but no more intently than usual, I hoped. I caught up with two of my friends.

Jeff and Dave were talking. "OK, so Superman comes from Krypton," said Dave, "but I bet you don't know what planet Spider-Man comes from." I didn't know either. Obviously they didn't notice my diapers.

We arrived at school, I went into our classroom, and Mrs. Evers began today's math lesson. Multiplication. Yuck.

As I sat there, I almost forgot that I had diapers on. I certainly wasn't thinking about them. As time went by, though, I became aware of the fact that I needed to pee.

What could I do? If I waited, it would only get worse. The diaper was there, so I let go. I could feel the warm wetness, and then I felt it spread. I didn't have to go anymore, but I was worried: Would it leak out? When I stood up, would there be wet spots on my pants? I didn't dare look down, for fear someone else would see me looking down, and what if there were something to look at?

Then it was time for music class, which was held in another classroom. I had to get up. I decided I'd check my pants out while everybody else was busy getting ready to go. I didn't know what I'd do if they were wet ...

===== Part 08 =====

... but fortunately, my pants weren't wet, front or back. My diaper had done its job. I worried a bit about what would happen if I had to go again before I went home for lunch, but I decided not to worry about it unless it happened. I went to music class, which was always fun. Singing and clapping in rhythm; was this learning or playing?

Of course I didn't know about it at the time, but I later found out that my parents had a talk that morning before Dad went to work. It must have gone something like this. He said, "So, do you think it'll work?"

Mom said, "You mean putting Chris back into diapers? Hmm, at the very least we won't be washing his sheets anymore."

"Yeah, but we'll have to change him again, and that's almost as bad."

"Well, remember why we're doing it," Mom said seriously. "The doctor said his wanting to wear diapers was probably a sexual thing, and we don't want to traumatize him by making him feel guilty about wanting them. That could lead to his developing a fetish for them when he gets older."

Dad added, "And maybe if we make him wear diapers he'll get sick of them, and he won't want them after a while."

Mom nodded. "Maybe. But remember, that's only a possibility."

"I don't want to have to go on changing Chris' diapers for the rest of his life!" Dad exaggerates when he gets angry.

Mom smiled. "We won't, of course. If time goes by, and he still wants to be in diapers, we'll just have to show him how to change himself. Then the only difference between raising him and raising any other boy will be the expense of the diapers."

After music class came reading class, but first everybody who had to was allowed to use the bathroom. If I hadn't wet my diapers during math, I definitely would have had to go by now. But I remembered my mother's words: "If we do catch you using a toilet, it's back to underwear for you, and we'll never make this offer again." For all the fear and embarrassment, I liked being in diapers, so even if I had held off until now I'd be wetting my diapers instead of using the bathroom.

"Don't you have to go, Chris?" asked Mrs. Evers, startling me a little.

"Um, no, Mrs. Evers, I'm fine."

"You're sure? You usually go at this time, and I don't want you disrupting class by asking to go." Most of the students were out of the bathroom by now.

"Really, ma'am, I don't have to go right now."

"All right. Just making sure."

Unknown to me, the class bully Curt was talking to one of his cronies, Stu. "Look at Miss Chris over there. He doesn't have to go to the bathroom. I'll bet that diaper baby's wetting his diapers right now." He laughed.

Stu laughed too, one of those "it's not really funny, but I'd better laugh anyway or he'll think I'm a dweeb" laughs. He said, "Yeah, Chris Miss." They were just making cruel jokes, of course; there was no way they could have known I really did have diapers on.

Curt smiled a smile that said, "I made a joke, he laughed. See? Everybody thinks I'm the coolest." This is not what he said, of course. He just smiled that self-satisfied smile, then picked another boy in our class to make fun of.

When everyone was out of the bathroom, Mrs. Evers walked the class back to our regular classroom for reading.

===== Part 09 =====

Well, it wasn't long until I had to pee again. There I was, sitting in class, and I'd passed up the chance to go earlier. What was more, I'd already wet my diaper earlier in the morning, and I wasn't sure they could absorb another drenching.

I thought about my options. I could wait until lunchtime, go home, and use the ... no, I couldn't use the toilet, could I? I could go home, get a change, and wet my diaper then. But would they change me again before I went back to school?

I couldn't think of what to do, so I tried to hold on and kept listening to the teacher. Soon, though, my body made up my mind for me. It was almost lunchtime, and I had to go! I tried to cross my legs, but I didn't want to wring any wetness out of the diaper, so I couldn't cross them very far. I fidgeted a little, but it didn't help much. Finally, I wet the diaper just a little, to relieve the pressure.

I could feel the warm wetness, but then it disappeared, just as it had earlier when the diaper was completely dry. I let a little more go, and it disappeared as quickly. This was working. I felt less pressure, and I didn't think the diaper had leaked.

As the minutes ticked by to lunchtime, though, the pressure built up again, but just when I thought I'd have to let a little more out, the teacher dismissed class, and I got up.

What luck! When I was walking, I didn't feel like I had to go. I'd just walk home, then I could wet my diaper before Mom changed me. I got my book bag and walked out the door.

As I quickly walked home, I wondered whether I could count on my luck every day, or whether I'd have to do something about it. Before I got any further on that thought, I heard a nearby loud whistle. I was nearing the train tracks, and a train was coming. If I had to stop, I might wet my diaper! Keeping moving was the only thing keeping me from letting go. I could see the train coming now. I ran for the tracks, but the train was far faster. I had to stop.

As I caught my breath after running, the pressure returned in full force. I knew there was nothing I could do. My bladder involuntarily let go. I felt myself soaking my diaper, and I knew it wasn't going to absorb it all this time. The only question was whether the end of the train would pass by before I was finished.

It did. I ran the rest of the way home, and I could feel the wetness down the legs of my pants. I hoped to God nobody saw me. Mom met me at the door (how did she do that? Maybe she could hear my footsteps on the porch) and said, "My goodness, what happened to you?"

===== Part 10 =====

"Had to go," I said, short of breath; "diapers ... couldn't hold it."

"I'd better change your diapers," Mom said, "and your pants! You really did a number on them. C'mon upstairs."

We climbed the stairs to my room. She said, "If one diaper isn't going to hold you from morning to lunchtime, maybe we'll have to get you changed more often."

"More often?" I wondered what that meant, but we were in my room, and Mom had me lie down so she could change me.

"Your father and I don't have time to come to school to change you," she said, after stripping off my wet pants, "so we'll have you take some extra diapers to school in your book bag, and you can go to the nurse's office when the others go to the bathroom." She unfastened my soaked diaper and dropped it into my diaper pail.

The nurse? That wasn't part of the deal! "But Mom," I said, "why bother the nurse? I mean, I'm not sick or anything."

As she cleaned my diaper region with a baby wipe she said, "I don't know who else is going to do it. Or would you rather not wear the diapers? That's always an option."

"No!" I said. "I mean, I want to keep wearing the diapers."

She sprinkled baby powder all over me. "OK, then you'll have to report to the nurse in the middle of the morning and the middle of the afternoon, or they'll call your name on the PA."

"But what if the nurse tells other people?"

"Chris, she's a professional. They don't talk to anybody about their patients."

"OK," I said. What choice did I have? Mom put a fresh diaper on me, found me a dry pair of pants, and put an extra diaper into my book bag while I put the dry pants on and my shoes back on. We went downstairs for lunch.

===== Part 11 =====

After lunch I headed back to school with my fresh pair of pants. I hoped I could make it through the whole afternoon without having to wet the diaper I wore underneath them. I remembered what Mom had said as I got ready to leave: "Remember, during your afternoon break go to the nurse and have her change you."

"But Mom," I had said, "I'm sure the nurse is busy. Why should we bother her?"

"If you're going to wear diapers at school, you're going to have to get them changed while you're there. Who else is going to do it? Your teacher? Remember, you can't change them yourself; that's part of the deal."

I had sighed resignedly.

"Remember also," Mom had concluded, "you don't have to wear these diapers. You can quit anytime you want."

"No!" I had objected. In the short run, giving the diapers up would mean that nobody at school would ever have to find out about them. But in the long run, it would also mean that I would never be allowed to wear diapers again!

"All right, then. I'm writing you a note for your teacher and one for the nurse. Don't forget!" Mom had written two notes that were now in my book bag.

As I walked back into the building, I was unaware that Curt and Stu were hanging around by the doorway. "Hey, look," Curt said quietly to Stu, "there goes Miss Chris. And there's ... wait, was Chris wearing those khaki pants this morning?"

"No, he had jeans on this morning," Stu said.

"I wonder why the change. Hey, didn't I see him running home just a little while ago...?" Curt had a nasty grin on his face.

The afternoon went all right, but the milk I'd drunk at lunchtime came back to haunt me during social studies. Almost unworried, I wet my diaper, knowing now that holding it would just lead to an accident later. But I also knew that this would mean I'd have to see the nurse.

When the afternoon break came, I gave Mom's note to Mrs. Evers, then took my book bag and walked slowly toward the office. It felt like my heart was in my mouth. I stood before the door, paused, and finally knocked.

The door opened. "Hello," said the nurse. "You can just come in; you don't have to knock." I'd seen her before when I'd fallen and scraped my knee at recess. She wore a white coat and had short black hair. "May I help you?"

"I ...." Suddenly I couldn't talk. "I have a note from my mother." I handed it to her.

"Hmm," she said, and read the note. "I see. Well, give me one of the dry diapers your mom packed and hop up on the table."

I found the diaper Mom had packed in my book bag and handed it to the nurse. As she unfolded it I got up and sat on the examination table.

"Lie down," she said. I did; my feet stuck off the end of the table. She set the diaper down, undid my pants and slid them down to my ankles. "Goodness, you certainly are wet!" she said when she saw my diaper, which she then unfastened.

Then she took me by surprise by lifting up both my feet with one hand! While I gaped in amazement, she slid the wet diaper out from under me, wiped my bottom with a baby wipe, and slid the dry one back under. Before I knew it my legs were back down and she was wiping the rest of my diaper region. She sprinkled some powder on me, taped the diaper up, and slid my pants back up, with my astonished help.

As she fastened my belt, she said, "Now I'll expect to see you every morning and afternoon. If I don't, I'll have you called here on the PA. Your mother makes it quite clear that you must be changed at both recess times."

"Yes, Nurse Ames. Thank you." I left her office and went to enjoy the rest of recess. Being lifted up by the legs like that had felt really familiar, and had made me feel really helpless. Why, I wondered, didn't my parents change me like that? Probably, I thought, because it had been years since they had changed a diaper. Nurse Ames, however, must have changed diapers very often.

===== Part 12 =====

After school that day I walked home with my friends Dave and Jeff. Jeff and I both liked to read comic books at Dave's house, and I'd often go there after school. But this afternoon I was wet. I couldn't go to Dave's house, at least right away; I needed a diaper change.

"You guys can come over today," Dave said. "Mom said she'll be cleaning tomorrow afternoon, not today."

"Cool!" said Jeff.

"OK," I said, "but I have to go home first. I should drop my stuff off."

"Bring it along," Dave suggested. "You always do."

"Umm, well, it's always so annoying to carry this thing. I'll just drop it off, then I'll be right over."

"OK." Whew! It sounded like they bought it. I hurried home, where Mom changed my diaper.

I walked out the door toward Dave's house with Mom calling after me, "Have fun! Be back by suppertime." So far, so good. I just hoped Dave and Jeff didn't notice my diapers.

I got to Dave's house and rang the doorbell. Dave let me in, and we went up to his room. Jeff was reading some of Dave's Electro-Man comics, and Dave unpaused his video game. "I got the new issue of 'Eliminator,'" Dave said. "Jeff's got it."

So I read comic books. It was always great when Dave got a new issue of something. While Jeff and I were reading, Dave won a round on his video game.

"Look at this, guys," he said, "I beat the Slayer. Now the crowd wants me to finish him off. I could rip out his heart by pressing button A, but watch what happens when I hit button B." He pressed, and I quite clearly saw a fearsome-looking guy in armor shrink into a tiny, helpless baby in diapers. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"I guess," said Jeff in a dubious tone of voice. "I'd have ripped out his heart. The graphics are better."

I said, "Yeah, but that is kinda cool. I don't think I've seen anything like it before." I was amazed that they'd put something like that in a video game, but I hedged a little because I didn't want anybody to think I was too excited by it.

Dave said, "That's what I always do when I beat 'em." That was interesting, because that's what I would do too, if I could ever win a round on that game. Of course, in an ideal world I'd have liked to see a video game where I was the one who got turned into a baby.

"Well, whatever," said Jeff. "Can I play after you?"

The rest of the afternoon went pretty much like that, until I started to feel the need to make a BM. I knew I had diapers on, but I didn't want to make a mess in them at Dave's house! They'd smell it, of course, and it would be really embarrassing. So I tried to hold it in. Sitting on my foot helped. The muscle spasms made me wet a little, but I knew the diaper could handle that.

Finally, it came time for me to go home. So, still feeling the need to poop in my diapers and slightly the wetter for the experience, I walked slowly home.

===== Part 13 =====

I tried to hold it in, but I knew I'd be messing my diapers within minutes. Still, I tried, although it made me walk funny. I hoped I'd get home before the inevitable happened, but I wasn't sure I could.

The inevitable happened. I could no longer prevent my bowels >from releasing their tension, and I felt the mess come out into the seat of my diapers. I kept walking, so only a little came out, but already I needed a change in a big way. And what would happen at the stoplight, where I usually had to wait for the "walk" sign? Maybe I'd get lucky.

I wasn't lucky. Standing there, I struggled to keep from messing and I struggled to keep the struggle from showing on my face, but I wasn't successful in either. My bowels relaxed, and I filled the seat of my diapers up the rest of the way.

I felt so helpless and babylike! This was, however, a feeling that I liked, for some reason, in a way, kind of. My bowels no longer hurt, but I felt what I was sure was a huge mess under my pants. I was going to let go of my bladder too, but I found out that I already had. I was wet and messy. "Wow!" I thought. "Just like a baby."

After what seemed like an hour's worth of walking, I got home. Coming in through the door, I saw Mom making supper. "Mom," I said, "I, uh, need a diaper change real bad."

"Try your father, dear," she said. "I'm busy."

I went to the living room, where Dad was resting after his day at work, and said the same thing. Dad took a breath through his nose. "You sure do need a change!" he said. "But I just sat down. Your mother's making supper; try your sister."

"Sarah? But ... what if she's busy?"

"Tell her I said she had to change you. OK?"

"OK ...." I went upstairs, where Sarah was usually in her room before supper. I knocked on her door, which was usually closed.

"What is it?" I heard Sarah answer. "Supper ready?"

"No," I said. "Dad said I should ask you to change me."

Sarah quickly opened the door. "Oh, darnit. Let's go to your room, then."

We went to my room. "I ... um, need a change real bad."

"Eww! Yeah, I think you do. And I was hungry just a minute ago! Oh, well. I deal with poopy diapers all the time when I babysit, so I'll just imagine you're one of those kids."

I liked the idea of being thought of as "one of those kids," because they were babies who still had to wear diapers. "OK, hop up on the bed," Sarah told me. I got on my bed and lay on my back as she got out the baby wipes, powder and a new diaper.

She took my pants down and unfastened my dirty diaper. I lifted up my legs, and she carefully moved the soiled diaper to one side. "Phew!" she said. She put the new diaper underneath me and cleaned me off with some baby wipes, throwing the dirty ones in the diaper pail. She powdered me and fastened the new diaper, then left me with my pants down as she took my dirty diaper to the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush, then she returned with the rolled-up diaper and dropped it into the diaper pail too. Meanwhile, I had pulled my pants back up.

"Thank you, Sarah," I said. I felt a lot better.

"You're welcome," she said, "but I hope Mom and Dad don't always saddle me with the dirty jobs."

"Supper!" called Mom from downstairs. We washed our hands (Sarah washed hers a bit more carefully than I did) and went down.

That evening was mostly uneventful. I usually ... well, I used to go to the bathroom just before bedtime, but this time I wet before bedtime, and Mom changed my diaper. I got into my pajamas, and she kissed me goodnight, turned out the lights and closed the door.

Once all was quiet I got out of bed and stole silently across the floor to my desk. In a drawer was a box of pencils, and the box had a false bottom. Underneath the false bottom I found my pacifier, one of the things I'd bought along with the diapers I used to buy. I got back into bed and fell asleep quickly, feeling secure with my diapers and pacifier.

===== Part 14 =====

The alarm clock beeped, and I whacked the button to shut it off. I stretched, feeling warm and relaxed. I gradually realized that my bladder had certainly felt relaxed overnight, since my diaper was quite wet, and fortunately still warm under the covers. I got up, noted that the bed was completely dry, and remembered my pacifier.

It had been in my mouth before I'd gone to bed the night before, but it was gone now. Where was it? I panicked for a moment -- when Mom and Dad had found out about my diapers, they'd put me back into diapers full-time. What if they'd found my pacifier -- what would they do? To my great relief, though, I found it under my pillow. It must have fallen out of my mouth during the night. I retrieved it and returned it to its hiding place.

I waited for Dad to come in and change me, as he had the morning before. He came, not saying much, but he's usually not very talkative first thing in the morning. While he was changing me, though, I noticed something. There were Legos on my desk.

They hadn't been there the night before. I thought I'd picked all my Legos up after I'd gotten done playing with them. Their presence could mean only one thing: my parents had brought them up during the night. They had opened my door while I was asleep. Had they seen my pacifier?

Dad stopped as he was sprinkling powder on me. "Something wrong?" he asked, noticing my sudden gasp and wide eyes. "Cold hands?"

"Yeah," I said, because I didn't know what else to say. He finished changing me, I put on my clothes, and we went downstairs for breakfast.

===== Part 15 =====

That morning at school, I first began to feel that the deal I'd made with my parents hadn't been a mistake. I already knew that wearing diapers felt good to me, and yesterday had reassured me that as long as I didn't try to go the whole morning or afternoon without a change, I'd never leak. Nurse Ames was the only one at school who knew I always had to wear and use the disposable diapers under my clothes, and she wouldn't tell anybody. I could actually live this way.

At recess that morning, while the others were using the bathroom (why do teachers always call it a lavatory?), I went to the nurse's office for a diaper change. I didn't know it at the time, but Curt tried to follow me.

"Hey, where's Chris going?" Curt asked his friend Stu, as he saw me walking away down the hallway.

"Dunno," Stu answered.

"I'm gonna follow him, and see where he's going," Curt said. "Distract the teacher."


"I don't know. Think of something."

As Stu got Mrs. Evers' attention and told her about his dog, Curt tried to sneak off after me. But grade school teachers have eyes in the backs of their heads. Just before Curt had rounded the corner to freedom, she turned and called out, "Curtis!"

"Er, yes, Mrs. Evers?" Curt responded, trying to look innocent.

"Where were you going just now?"

"Um, nowhere, ma'am."

"That's good, because roaming the halls without a pass gets you a night after school."

Under Mrs. Evers' watchful eye Curt had to behave that morning, so I got my diaper change without his discovering me and headed to recess. That afternoon, though, I wasn't so lucky. Jimmy Randall and Kevin Dell got into a fight in line, and Curt managed to slip away while Mrs. Evers was stepping in to stop it.

He quietly caught up with me, never getting close enough that I could see him or hear his footsteps. With the craft of an expert snitch he followed me to the nurse's office and saw me go inside ... but then someone stepped in front of him. "Curtis Harris," said the vice-principal. "May I see your hall pass?" Mr. Walden was a very tall man.

"I, um, I think I have it right here, Mr. Walden," Curt said, fumbling through his pockets.

"While you look, shall we return to your classroom?" asked Mr. Walden rhetorically, guiding Curt down the hallway with a big hand on the back of Curt's head.

Curt hadn't find out about my diapers, but he had found out where I went at recess time. Meanwhile, I began to like having my diaper changed by Nurse Ames.

She treated me exactly as she would treat a baby, changing my diaper with that quick efficiency of hers. I guess it made me feel more like a baby, which I liked. "Nurse Ames?" I asked, as she was taping up my new, dry diaper.

"Yes, Chris, what is it?" she responded.

"You're really good at this. Changing diapers, I mean. Do you change a lot of diapers?" I refastened my pants.

She smiled. "Thank you. Yes, I do. I've had a lot of experience changing babies. You're bigger than the babies I usually change, but in the hospitals and schools where I've worked I've changed much bigger people than you."

Bigger than me? "Oh," I said, somewhat amazed. I thanked her and headed for recess.

===== Part 16 =====

After school I did what I'd done the day before -- went home, got a diaper change, and went over to Dave's for a couple of hours. When I got back my diaper was still clean and dry, so I sat with Dad in front of the TV until Mom was done with supper.

During supper, Mom announced, "Kids, we're going out tonight."

"Oh, no," interrupted Sarah.

"Yes, that means you'll have to stay and watch Chris."

"But I was going over to Sharon's."

"Well, have Sharon over," suggested Mom.

"Can I?" Sarah asked. "That'd be OK."

"Sure," Mom said, "unless your father objects." She looked at Dad. He shook his head as if to say he had no problem with it.

This was neat. I liked it when my parents went out, even if Sarah did have to watch me. It meant that Mom and Dad wouldn't be telling me to take the garbage out or put dishes away or anything like that. The conversation turned to other matters until supper was over.

Afterward, Dad rinsed the dishes off and put them in the dishwasher while Mom took a shower. He didn't turn the dishwasher on, though, until she was out of the shower. When they were both ready to go, they called us both downstairs. Mom said, "Okay, we've put the number of the theater on the fridge. Sarah, the usual. Keep Chris out of trouble and make sure he goes to bed by 9. Oh, and change his diaper when it needs to be changed, especially right before bed."

My diaper! That's right! She'd have to change me. I was wet now, too! I remembered that I'd wet it during supper. Oh well; she'd changed me before ... wait a minute. What if she had her friend over?

"If you have your friend over," Mom continued, "go ahead and do anything you want, as long as you don't mess up the house or make too much noise."

If Sarah's friend Sharon came over would Sarah tell her about my diapers? Oh no! I could just imagine Sharon watching Sarah change me. I would die, right there and then!

===== Part 17 =====

I briefly squinted in the blaze of the car's headlights as I watched our parents pull out of the driveway and drive down the street. "Sarah," I asked my sister, "could you please change my diaper?"

"What, already?" she replied. "Well, I might as well get it over with, so I won't have to do it again until your bedtime. C'mon, let's get upstairs."

We went to my bedroom. My bed had become something of a changing table. I already had a plastic sheet under the regular sheet, because before my parents had put me back into diapers I'd been a chronic bedwetter. As I'd gotten used to over the past few days, I took my pants down and lay on the bed with my knees apart.

I lifted up as Sarah took my wet diaper off, then again as she slid a dry diaper under me. It was kind of embarrassing, my sister changing my wet diaper, not to mention my sister seeing my genitals, but this wasn't the first time she'd changed me, and I hadn't died then. She sprinkled powder and taped the diaper back up. "There ya go," she announced.

"Thank you, Sarah," I said as I pulled up my pants.

"Don't mention it," she said. "Why don't you go watch TV or something? I'm gonna be on the phone."

"Um, OK." On the phone? Was she going to call Sharon? Was she going to invite her over? Was she going to tell her about my diapers? Was she going to show her my diapers? I went downstairs to watch TV, to try to take my mind off the questions that I knew only time would answer.

About half an hour later Sarah came out of the kitchen, where the phone was, and said, "Sharon's coming over. Be good and don't bother us, OK?"

Tempting, but if I barged into her room roaring with my monster mask on my head she might retaliate by showing Sharon that I was diapered. "OK, I'll be good."

"Y'know, you've sure had a better attitude since they put you back in diapers. I think it agrees with you."

"Mmm," I said. I wanted to let her know I'd heard her, but I didn't want to say yes or no.

"Why did you want them to do it, anyway? Most kids want to look and act as grown-up as they possibly can. Do you like wearing and using diapers like a baby?"

What could I say? "Yeah."

"Does it feel good?"

"Yeah ..." I was going to expand on that, or maybe I wasn't, but then the doorbell rang. Sarah went to get it.

It was Sharon. They went up to her room to talk about whatever teenage girls talk about, but Sarah left the door open, so she could hear if I got hurt and yelled. I went back to watching TV.

As I watched, I thought. If I didn't wet my diaper between now and bedtime, she wouldn't have to change me. I resolved to hold it.

Upstairs, Sarah and Sharon were talking. They talked mostly about their friends, music, and boys. "Julia once went out with a guy who liked to be spanked," Sharon said.

Sarah laughed. "Really? No way."

Sharon said, "No, really. Some people get into really weird things."

Sarah thought for a moment, then asked, "Hey, have you ever heard of anybody who likes to wear diapers? I saw some on a talk show once."

"Actually," Sharon answered, "Debbie once told me that one of her friends went out with a guy who was into that. Bottles, bibs -- pretty different."

"Hmm," Sarah said. "I also saw a show about ..."

About an hour and two TV shows later I wasn't sure I was going to make it. I could feel that my bladder was definitely fuller than it had been, and to make matters worse I was starting to feel like I had to go Number Two. I really didn't want a messy diaper if Sarah decided to show Sharon how she had to change her eight-year-old brother's diapers.

As bedtime approached, those two were still up there, probably trying on each other's clothes or something, and I was still downstairs, pretending to watch TV and realizing that I wasn't going to make it. I was concentrating on holding my bladder back when I heard Sarah call, "Chriiiiiis, bedtime!"

Had I made it? I stood up to go upstairs. Nooooooo! Under the added pressure my bladder let go. My diapers were flooded, and Sarah would have to change me. I felt the warmth spread between my legs, then gradually dissipate. I resigned myself and went upstairs.

Leaving her room, Sarah turned her head back and said to Sharon, "I just have to get my little brother ready for bed. It'll only take a few minutes."

"Need any help?" Sharon asked.

No, that's OK, I thought, gulping.

"No, that's OK," Sarah answered, to my relief.

"OK," Sharon said as Sarah took me to my room.

"Let's get you changed first," said Sarah. I took my clothes off and lay on the edge of my bed in nothing but my wet diaper. Sarah got out the wipes, powder and a fresh diaper.

Then from the door we heard a voice say, "Wow, so how long has he had to wear diapers?"

My eyes darted toward the doorway, and Sarah turned her head somewhat more slowly. "Just a few days," Sarah said to Sharon.

"Ooh, can I change him?" she asked, moving into the room.

Noooo, I thought, but I was paralyzed with terror.

"Sure," Sarah said, handing her the wipes, powder and diaper.

"Cool! Does he have a problem? Is he sick?"

"Um, not really," said Sarah. "I think he likes it."

"Does he like being a baby?" Sharon said to me, unfastening my soaked diaper. "Is he so happy in his dydees?" She was using that tone of voice you use when you're trying to make babies laugh.

Sarah took her literally. "I'm not sure whether he likes being a baby, but he certainly likes to be in diapers. He was wearing them on his own, but he agreed to be kept in them all the time if he'd use them for everything."

"Then he's a _real_ little baby," Sharon said to me, using the wipes, then the powder. "He's gonna have to be put in his crib in a nice, dry diaper, so he can sleep like a baby, sucking his thumb." She unfolded the fresh diaper. "Oh, look how red baby is! And I can tell he likes this." She put the dry diaper on me as I sort of went numb with embarrassment.

"Err, thanks, Sharon," said Sarah. "Chris, get your pajamas on now." I slowly got up and got my pajamas out of their drawer.

"Maybe I should tell all his friends how much of a baby he is," Sharon said as I put my pajamas on. Oh no!

"She's just teasing, Chris," said Sarah. "Now go wash your face and brush your teeth."

When I was gone she said to Sharon, "That wasn't very nice. Look how much you upset him."

"But he liked it," Sharon protested. "And I won't tell his friends. I don't even know who they are."

"He doesn't know that. I think you should apologize."

Sharon sighed. "OK."

When I returned from the bathroom, Sharon said to me, "Sorry if I embarrassed you, kid. I was just having fun. And I won't tell your friends. OK?"

For all the embarrassment, I actually did like it, a little. "OK," I said, as I climbed into bed. Sharon left the room.

"You OK?" asked Sarah. I nodded. She smiled and turned out the light.

===== Part 18 =====

My eyes flew open. It was Saturday morning, time to watch cartoons! I sat up in bed -- and realized that I shouldn't have. Something reminded me of the night before.

Our parents had been out, seeing a movie, and my sister Sarah was watching me. She'd had her friend Sharon over, so I'd tried not to use my diaper, because I was afraid Sarah would change me in front of Sharon. I'd managed to keep myself from messing, but not wetting, so she'd changed me in front of her all right. Sharon had teased me, saying she'd tell all my friends that I wore and used diapers. I was still worried, even though Sarah had assured me that Sharon had just been teasing, and even though I knew that Sharon didn't know any of my friends.

Back to the point -- sitting up had been a bad idea, because during the night I'd filled my diaper right up. Now I was sitting in the mess. How was I going to get changed and get downstairs to watch cartoons? And why had I messed my diaper while I was asleep? I guessed I'd been holding it back, so when I fell asleep my control relaxed. I know now that there was more to it than that, but that's all I knew at the time.

I figured I'd just have to find somebody to change me. I knew my parents didn't want me to change myself. I got up, kind of waddled uncomfortably across the room, and opened my door.

Luckily, Mom was up. I saw her coming out of the bathroom. "Mom," I said, "I --"

"Need a diaper change?" she finished. I nodded. "OK; back to your room."

I'd taken my pajamas off and laid down on my bed with nothing on but my wet, messy diaper. I'll never forget this moment. Mom peeled off the tapes, lifted the diaper away and said something like, "Pew! I'm going to clean up some of this, but before I put a fresh diaper on you you're taking a bath. We can't go to Wonderworld with you smelling like this."

We were going to Wonderworld? All right! Although the amusement park was only about an hour's drive away, we only went there about twice a year. But ... this time, I'd be in diapers the whole time! They'd have to change me in some kind of public restroom or something! And I was going to miss all my Saturday morning cartoons.

===== Part 19 =====

Dad parked the car and turned off the engine. "Okay, everybody out!" he called. Each of us opened a door and got out. Dad opened the trunk so he and Mom could get the things they were going to carry around all day: Dad's camera, Mom's bag, and so forth.

"All right," said Mom, pointing, "the entrance is that way. Let's go!" We started walking ... and I noticed that Mom had a bag that was different from the one she usually brought along. This bag was big and white, decorated in pastel colors, and it looked like it was made of some kind of plastic. It had elastic pockets on the outside and some compartments with zippers. I had a sneaking suspicion that this was my diaper bag, though it was a little bit bigger than most diaper bags I'd seen.

We finally reached the entrance to Wonderworld. As Dad bought tickets, Mom said, "Let's all start the day fresh ... Sarah, do you have to use the bathroom? Chris, do you need a diaper change?"

Sarah said yes, but I said no: my diaper was fine. I was conscious of its thickness under my pants, but I'd gotten used to it, so I didn't notice it until something called attention to it. The only thing I minded about all this was Mom's saying "diaper change" in the middle of a crowd of people.

When Mom and Sarah came back from the bathroom, we all entered the park. "What do you want to do first?" Mom asked as we walked in.

"Ride the Super Looper!" said Sarah and I, mostly in unison. I think roller coasters run in the family. We all knew where it was, and we got there quickly. Since it was still early, there wasn't much of a line.

I don't know about you, but I've always loved roller coasters. The way they build up to a suspenseful height and then let you drop is like watching a really great movie. They design them that way on purpose. The Super Looper puts you through one loop, then slows down, then does two loops ... well, you just have to ride it. You swear you're not going to scream, but the thing just rips the yells out of your lungs.

When we got off, my heart was pounding. "That was great!" I said. "Can we ride it again?"

"Later," said Mom, smiling at my enthusiasm. I'd already had enough fun for a day -- an ordinary day. But then Mom asked me a question that changed the way I'd be thinking the rest of the day.

"How's your diaper now?" she asked laughingly.

It hadn't occurred to me to think about it since getting off the roller coaster. My face paled and I stared astounded. My diaper was wet, and I hadn't even noticed myself wetting it.

===== Part 20 =====

"Mom, I'm ... I'm wet," I said, "and I didn't even notice when it happened!"

"Hmm," she said, leaving her feelings about it an enigma to me. "We'd better get you changed, then. If we don't, you might leak next time you wet."

I wasn't sure I liked her talking about my diapers in public, but what could I do about it? Dad pointed toward a small building and said, "There's a baby changing room over there, between the restrooms."

"Your turn, I believe," Mom said to Dad, handing him the diaper bag.

"Come on, Chris," Dad told me. I hesitated, but ... Mom was right. Did I want to leak later? No. Was there anywhere else where Dad could change my diaper? No. Was I against being treated just like the little babies in the changing room? Well ... no, not really. We headed toward the restroom building.

* * * * * * * * *

Not far away, Curt and his sisters were having a lovely time at Wonderworld. "That was great!" said Leslie, the oldest one. "I love roller coasters!"

"Ugh," said Laura, the younger one, who was still older than Curt. "Let's go on the ferris wheel next."

"No, let's go on another roller coaster!" Curt demanded, seeing a map and starting to run toward it.

Leslie grabbed Curt's hand and said, "Stay with us. Mom said we could only come here if we stayed together."

Then Curt thought he saw someone familiar over by the restroom building. That looks like Chris, he thought. But he's going into the baby changing room ...

"C'mon," Leslie said. "Ferris wheel's this way." She pulled him away, and Laura followed, walking slowly and somewhat unsteadily.

* * * * * * * * *

We had to wait for a changing table to open up, so I looked around the room. The tables were metal and stuck out from one wall. On the other walls there were trash cans, sinks, paper towel dispensers, and a vending machine that sold things like diapers and baby wipes.

Every now and then a parent would finish changing a child and the two would leave, and almost every one of them looked at me on the way out. I knew what they were thinking, too: "That father doesn't have a baby with him! Maybe that boy's with him. But he looks too old to be in diapers!" I swallowed and tried not to notice, although I now know that they probably weren't really paying me much attention at all, and even if they were, what does it matter?

When we finally got a table, Dad took a plastic-coated changing pad from the diaper bag, spread it out on the metal table and lifted me up onto it. I lay down and looked around as Dad took my pants down and unfastened my diaper. The other babies ... heh ... were lying on similar changing pads, but mine was much bigger than theirs. I wonder where Mom and Dad had gotten such a huge changing pad. It was as if it had been purposely manufactured for changing older children who were still in diapers.

Dad had thrown out my wet diaper and slipped a dry one under my bottom; now he was cleaning me with a baby wipe and spreading powder around. The babies on either side of me were getting similar treatment. In a way it excited me, being changed exactly the same way those babies were. Dad fastened my fresh diaper on and pulled my pants back up. He lifted me up and put me back on the floor, then folded up the changing pad, put it away and went to wash his hands.

As I fastened my pants back up, I looked at the people who were in the room changing their babies, and felt glad that I didn't know who any of these people were. There probably wasn't anybody I knew in the whole park.

Meanwhile, over on the ferris wheel, Curt was thinking. Mostly he was thinking about how annoying his sisters were, but somewhere in there he was putting together what he'd seen me doing: going to the school nurse twice a day, going home for lunch and coming back wearing a different pair of pants, going into the baby changing room with my father and no baby. I'm sure he had a pretty clear picture by that time, but now he needed confirmation.

===== Part 21 ===== I sat in my dry diaper and played video games. I usually went over to Dave's house on Sunday afternoons. In fact, I usually went there on Saturday afternoons too, but yesterday we'd gone to Wonderworld, so today I had really wanted to go over to Dave's place. Getting my parents to agree, though, had really been hard.

"Well, remember," Mom had said after lunch, "you can only stay for a few hours, because you're going to need a diaper change."

"Aww, Mom," I'd complained, "can't I stay the whole afternoon? I can hold it long enough!"

"The way your school days go shows that you can't go from lunchtime to suppertime without a diaper change. So you're only staying until mid-afternoon ... unless you want me to send over some fresh diapers for you and try to convince Dave's mother to change you."

"Aww!" I had repeated.

"Or you could always call the deal off," she had added, "but remember -- that would mean no more diapers ever!"

"OK," I had said, defeated, "when do you want me home."

The rest of the day at Wonderworld had been fun, but predictable. I didn't unknowingly wet my pants on any other rides, but maybe I was paying more attention. Or maybe my parents' timing got better -- come to think of it, for the rest of the day we only went on the big scary rides right after my diaper changes.

I didn't want it to, but time to come home arrived as usual. "Uh-oh, it's 3:00," I said. "My mom wants me to go home now."

"But it's only 3!" Dave said, amazed. "Jeez, what is it, chores or something?"

"Something like that," I said. I wished I could tell Dave about my diapers and how much fun they were ... most of the time. But I knew he'd laugh at me and probably stop being my friend. He'd probably ask if my diaper was wet, and I'd have to tell him it was, which was the truth, and I'd feel even worse. At the door I said, "See you in school tomorrow!"

"OK, see you there!" said Dave.

===== Part 22 =====

Monday at school was much the same as Friday at school, except that it was the start of a week instead of the end. As usual, halfway through the morning came the usual bathroom break and recess, and I headed to the office to see Nurse Ames.

Unknown to me, Curt was trying it again. Sneaking down the hall, he spotted Mr. Walden, the vice-principal, doing his routine hall patrolling. Luckily Mr. Walden was walking away, so he crept back to the last corner until Mr. Walden had turned another corner, far down the hall. This was his chance! As quickly and quietly as he could he sneaked up to the door of the nurse's office, put his ear near the crack and began to listen.

Back inside, I was on the examination table, with my pants down so Nurse Ames could change my diaper. "Goodness, you're wet!" she exclaimed when she unfastened the tapes. "Your diaper always seems to be soaked at your morning changing."

"Yeah," I said, blushing slightly. "I think it's from all the water, milk and juice I drink at breakfast."

"Well, we'll soon have you nice and dry. Lift up, now."

I did, and she removed the wet diaper and slid a dry one under me in one fluid motion. "You know, this morning I didn't notice I was wetting my diaper until I was almost finished."

"That will happen, when someone starts using diapers exclusively, though in your case it seems to be happening rather quickly." Nurse Ames finished with the baby wipe and got the baby powder. "If you keep it up, your muscles may get so weak that you'll have to be potty-trained all over again. Still, I suppose your parents and your doctor know what they're doing."

Doctor? I suppose they'd been discussing my diapers with Dr. Underwood, our family doctor, and put something about it in the note they'd sent with me the previous week. "I guess so," I said as Nurse Ames taped the new diaper securely up.

"Well, Chris, there you go. See you this afternoon!" She put things away and dropped my rolled-up wet diaper into the trash can, one of those silver metal ones with a push-pedal that school nurses always seem to have.

"Bye, Nurse Ames, and thanks!" I turned the doorknob and opened the door ... just in time to see a figure in blue jeans, a brown jacket and a backwards red baseball cap run down the hall and around the corner. That looked like Curt, I thought -- uh-oh. My heart felt like it was trying to leap down into my diaper. Behind me Nurse Ames also watched Curt run away and raised an eyebrow.

The rest of the day I felt very, very nervous and afraid. I wondered how much Curt had heard, and what he would do. The meaningful glances he gave me during class didn't help. At lunch Mom wondered if I was all right, and at my afternoon diaper change Nurse Ames wondered the same thing. I must have looked worried. Both times I told them that nothing was wrong, but I don't think they believed me. At the end of the day I went home and felt relieved that I didn't have to worry about my family -- they already knew everything. More than I thought, in fact.

===== Part 23 =====

Dinner that night was unremarkable; the fact that I was in diapers never even entered the conversation. When Dad asked me how school went, I felt uncomfortable and only said, "Fine." The rest of the time, though, I felt great. Although that Curt guy knew about my diapers, which made me uneasy because I didn't know whether he'd tell or what he'd do, at home everybody knew about my diapers, so being at home was a big relief.

After supper I went up to my room to find something to do, but then I heard Dad calling me. "Chris," he said, "come downstairs. We need to talk to you."

I would probably have been more frustrated if I'd actually found something to do before he called me. I went downstairs, and Mom said, "Why don't you sit down on the couch." Now I felt nervous. That was when I noticed that Mom had something in her hand.

I sat down, but Mom and Dad remained standing. Mom said, "Can you tell us anything about this?" She opened her hand, revealing ... my pacifier! Pink transparent rubber, I'd know it anywhere. What were they going to do? Were they angry? Oh, yeah, she'd asked me a question. What should I say?

"It's ... um ... it's ... my pacifier," I stammered.

"Why," asked Dad, "do you have a pacifier?"

"I ... uh ... it ... makes me feel ... little."

Mom sounded concerned. "Do you like to feel little, Chris?" she asked.

"Er ... yes."

"Why?" Dad asked.

"Uh ..." I hesitated. I don't know why I hesitated. "It feels good."

They looked at each other, then Dad turned back to me and said, "We'll decide what to do."

What to do? Oh, no! And I thought home was safe! They told me I could go back upstairs, so I did, but I didn't feel much like having fun now. What were they going to decide? What were they going to do? Was I in trouble? Were they going to punish me?

I sat on my bed. My diaper and the plastic sheet rustled under me. Then I saw Sarah at my door. "I heard," she said. "They found your pacifier."

I nodded, looking morosely at the floor. "Yeah."

"I didn't tell."

"Thanks," I said. Wait a minute. "You knew?"

"Yeah," she said. "So you want to be, like, a baby again?"

"Well," I said, "not really. I mean, if there was a magic wand that could turn me into a baby, I'd probably use it, but only if I could turn back when I wanted. 'Cause babies can't do stuff. They can't play with Legos, because they might try to eat them."

"And everything they do, their parents have to watch them," Sarah added.

"Yeah! But it makes me feel good to feel little."

"Yeah," she said. "Well, I don't think they're going to punish you or anything. So don't worry."

Easy for her to say. "I'll try," I said. She did this neat wave thing with her fingers and her eyebrows and went back to her room. Sometimes Sarah can be so cool.

I didn't get much sleep that night, but I must have dozed off sometime, because I was wet in the morning and I didn't remember it happening.

===== Part 24 =====

School the next day started out unremarkable, though I was waiting for Curt to make his move. I knew he knew I was in diapers, and I knew he knew that Nurse Ames was changing me in the mornings and afternoons. I just didn't know what he'd do about it.

As usual, I went to Nurse Ames' office during the morning break. The trek down the hall was one nervous step after another, as I constantly expected Curt to pop out from behind a corner and confront me. I looked left, right and behind me as I walked, but there was no sign of Curt. I made it to the nurse's office without seeing him.

"You don't seem your usual happy self today, Chris," Nurse Ames said as she changed my wet diaper. "Is anything wrong?"

"Well, not really ...." Was it safe to tell her?

"Go ahead, Chris, you can tell me."

"Well ... there's ... there's this guy, and I think he knows that I wear diapers, and I don't know what he's going to do."

"I see." Nurse Ames taped the fresh diaper up. "Are you scared that he might tell your friends?"

I pulled my pants back up. "Yeah," I said. "But he might do other things too, but I don't know what."

"Are you worried that your friends won't be your friends anymore if they find out?" she asked.

She'd hit the nail on the head. "Yeah! And if he tells everybody, then everybody would laugh at me and stuff."

"Well, I think that your friends would still be your friends, no matter what they knew. I know all about your diapers, don't I? And I'm your friend."

"You are?" Somehow I'd never really thought of her as a friend, but this did help.

"Certainly, Chris. You'll be fine."

I felt a little better, but I still didn't feel like everything would be fine. I thanked her, left, and went outside for recess.

As soon as I was outside, there was Curt. "I know you wear diapers," he said in a loud whisper. "What's it worth to you for me to stay quiet?"

===== Part 25 =====

I don't know where Curt learned to talk like that. Maybe he watched too much TV. "I ... I don't have anything," I said, feeling very scared. "What do you want?"

"That's right," he said. "You wouldn't have any lunch money, because you go home for lunch ... and for a diaper change, I bet. But you always get good grades. How about you let me copy off you every time there's a test, and I don't tell anybody your little secret. How's that, Sissy Chrissy?"

"Um ...." I thought. For one thing, copying was wrong -- at least, every teacher I'd ever had was firmly against it. For another, Mrs. Evers' policy if she caught anybody copying was to give zeros to both the copyer *and* the copyee, and to send them *both* to the principal's office! Would I rather risk that, or risk Curt's telling my friends about my diapers?

"Hurry up, Miss Chris! I think I'll tell your friends first, then I'll start telling everybody else."

"OK, OK, I'll let you copy my tests." He probably did anyway. "Are you gonna tell?"

Curt paused. "Not now," he said. "I might want something else sometime."

The bell rang, too late to save me. "We'll talk later," said Curt. Everybody went back inside for the rest of the morning's classes.

===== Part 26 =====

Between recess and lunch I couldn't concentrate. "Three is greater than or less than seven ... Chris?"

I had only barely heard Mrs. Evers. "Uh ..." I said. What had those numbers been? Three and seven? I hoped so. "Less than," I said.

"That's right, so we put a 'less than' sign between them ..." What was I going to do? I didn't think there was a test that day, so I didn't have to worry about Curt copying off me. But still, he could get caught one day, and that meant I could get caught, and we'd both fail the test.

Besides, he still knew I wore diapers all the time, and he held all the cards. What was keeping him from telling everybody I wore diapers like a baby? Only the fact that I had something he wanted. And perhaps a perverse pleasure in playing this little game. Suddenly I was angry. How dared he play games with my life?

"With fractions, it helps to put them into similar terms," Mrs. Evers was saying.

But what could I do? How did I get out of this neat little trap he had me in? Then I thought of what Nurse Ames had said earlier that morning. "I think that your friends would still be your friends, no matter what they knew," she had said. "I know all about your diapers, don't I? And I'm your friend."

What if I told them? A scary option, because they might stop being my friends. I bet I knew what Nurse Ames would say to that; probably something like, "If they would stop being your friends just because of a little thing like this, are they really your friends?"

That settled it. I was going to break apart Curt's stupid plan by telling my friends myself. But I wouldn't tell Curt about it. No, I wanted to see his face when he tried to tell them and found out they already knew.

"Now, three sevenths is greater than or less than one third?" Mrs. Evers was asking. I raised my hand. "Chris, do you know?"

Nine is greater than seven. "Greater than," I said confidently.

"You have the right answer," said Mrs. Evers.

===== Part 27 =====

I struggled through the rest of the morning and went home for lunch, as usual. I was a little uneasy because of the talk they'd had with me the night before, but Mom behaved as if it hadn't happened. That made me nervous, but I had other things on my mind.

For the rest of the day I was anxious for school to end, so I could go over to Dave's house and tell him about my diapers and about Curt's plan.

"That guy who knows about my diapers," I said, as Nurse Ames changed me during the afternoon recess, "he wants me to let him copy off my tests, or else he'll tell my friends."

"What a mean thing for him to do," she said, untaping my wet diaper. "What are you going to do about it?"

She lifted my legs up by the ankles, slid the wet diaper out >from under me and slid a dry one back underneath. "At first I wanted to go along with it," I said. "But then I got mad. I'm going to tell my friends all about my diapers, and then he can't do anything."

"What a daring plan!" she exclaimed, cleaning my groin area off with a baby wipe. "You have to either fight or give in, and you're fighting. But what if he threatens to tell everybody, not just your friends?"

I hadn't thought of that. "Umm, I don't know."

"Seems to me you have a choice if that happens," she said, sprinkling baby powder. "Tell everybody, or head that problem off some other way."

"What other way?"

She folded the dry diaper up over me and taped it securely. "I doubt you're the only one with a secret," she said.

I refastened my pants and thought. How much did she know about the kids at this school? Probably a lot; she could read anyone's medical file if she wanted to, and she'd probably seen all the kids naked at one time or another. Was this a hint? Why not ask? "Do you know something, Nurse Ames?" I asked.

"Nothing I can tell you," she said. I suppose that was a sign of her professionalism. If she'd been the type who would tell me about Curt, she'd probably have told others about me. "Have you ever been to his house?"

I looked confused, and she smiled, and I went out to recess. Curt left me alone.

===== Part 28 =====

As happened almost every day, I walked home from school with my best friend Dave. Something was different today, though -- I was going to tell him a big secret about myself, something which would probably change the way he thought about me, and I wasn't sure if he'd still be my friend after I told him.

"I got to level four the other day," Dave said, talking about one of his video games. "I still haven't beaten your Space Avenger record, though."

"Keep trying," I said. "I think I just got lucky." We reached his house, he unlocked the front door, and we went inside and up to his room.

As usual, my spring jacket went on a chair and my book bag went on the floor. When would be a good time to say something? My diaper wasn't wet yet; I'd been too nervous to relax.

"I want to play Tournament Fighters," said Dave. He put the cartridge into the game and turned everything on. Immediately he was controlling a nasty-looking armored character, fighting another.

"Umm, Dave?" I asked, looking for a was to start this conversation.

"Yeah?" He knocked his opponent down with a flying kick.

"I got something to tell you, but I don't know what you'll think."

"OK, what is it?" He swung his sword, but the other guy blocked his attack.

"Err, I, uh ... wear diapers," I spit out. Here it comes, I thought.

"You what?" As I'd thought he'd be, he was surprised. "Diapers? You mean like, baby diapers?" His opponent was able to get up while he was distracted.

"Yeah, only they're my size." Maybe if I appeared willing to talk openly, he'd ask more questions and maybe understand.

"Wow, like all the time, or just at night, or what?" He blocked his opponent's attack by raising his sword.

"All the time," I answered. "I had to tell you because Curt found out, and I didn't want you finding out from him."

"Oh. Yeah, Curt might just go around telling people for jollies. But why do you wear diapers?" Whoosh, went the other guy's sword as it missed Dave's character.

"My parents made me," I said, which wasn't completely true.

"Why, what did you do?" Dave swung and scored a hit!

"Actually they found some of my diapers in my closet." That wasn't completely true either.

"Why did you have diapers?" Angered, Dave's opponent attacked savagely.

"I bought them."

"OK, why did you buy them?"

I hesitated. "Because I wet the bed," I finally said.

"Oh. So, how long do you have to wear them?" Dave was defending himself valiantly, but he hadn't regained the upper hand yet.

"Um ... there's more." I took a deep breath. "I found out I liked them, so I started wearing them at other times, under my clothes. But my parents said that either I have to wear them all the time or give them up. And I don't want to give them up!"

"Wow," Dave said. He paused. Then he asked, "And do they make you use them?"

"Yeah," I said. "For everything. I have to go see the nurse at school twice a day."

Dave finally got in another attacking blow, and although the opponent parried it Dave was on the offensive again. He was silent for a minute while he continued his attack. Then he said, "Got him on the run now. Uh, actually, Chris ... that sounds really cool."

"It what?" My turn to be surprised!

"Yeah," Dave said as he scored another hit, "I wish my parents would do that."

"Uh ..." I was amazed! "Well ... why don't you buy some diapers?"

"Never thought of it, I guess," he said, and he dealt his opponent the final blow. The Emperor gave a thumbs-down, and he pressed the B button. "Never really thought about video games either, until my parents got me this one for Christmas."

Dave's defeated opponent shrank and turned into a diapered infant.

===== Part 29 =====

I reflected on the way home. Dave had been far more than receptive when I'd told him that I wore diapers and that I liked it. It looked like my best friend was more like me than I'd previously thought. Also, he'd suggested a plan.

"OK, what should I do when Curt tells me?" Dave had asked.

"You could just not be surprised and say you already knew," I had said.

Dave had replied, "Yeah ...," then thought for a few moments. "I have a better idea. Suppose I pretend to be surprised. Then Curt wouldn't even know I knew. He'd find out sometime, I guess, but it would take a while."

"Hey, that's a great idea!" I had responded. "OK, so that's what you can do."

Dave had also suggested that when I told my other friends, such as Jeff, I shouldn't tell them that I liked it; just that my parents were making me wear diapers. I would try to get them to feign surprise and shock, as Dave planned to do. That was assuming that they stayed my friends, but Dave's acceptance made me feel better. If I lost any friends as a result of this, at least my best friend would still be there for me.

As I walked, I remembered that Curt's house was just a few blocks away, if I turned left instead of going straight. Then I thought about what Nurse Ames had said about Curt earlier that afternoon: "Have you ever been to his house?" I turned left.

Curt's house came in sight. I saw a girl sitting on the front porch swing, probably one of Curt's two older sisters, I forgot their names. I stopped walking. I could visit his house, but what would I do once I was there? I couldn't just drop in and say, "Hi, Curt, how's it going?" He'd probably beat me up.

I turned right and headed home, wondering what my parents would do that night. I decided I'd try going there again once I had some idea what to do there.

===== Part 30 =====

When I got home, Dad changed me as Mom made supper. During supper, I was sitting on pins and needles as well as on my diaper, because of the previous night's conversation.

It reminded me of what they'd done when they'd found my diapers. Then, they had confronted me with them and forced me to make a deal: wear diapers all the time, or never wear diapers again. It seemed that they'd talked with our family therapist, Dr. Underwood, before doing that, because they'd been all ready to diaper me. But this time, they'd done nothing after confronting me. They'd said that they would decide what to do, but they hadn't done anything yet. What were they going to do? Had they talked to Dr. Underwood? Nobody was saying anything about it!

"So, how was your day, Chris?" Mom asked. If she only knew!

I didn't want to tell anyone about the trouble I'd been having with Curt or the conversation I'd been having with Dave. I think it was because I didn't want anybody spoiling the neat plan Dave and I had, and because Mom and Dad might use the trouble I'd been having as another suggestion that I might want to give up diapers -- which I didn't want to do! -- and maybe because I wanted to be independent, to settle it on my own. The trouble with Curt didn't make me feel like a baby, and I didn't want to meet it like a baby would, by going to my parents and letting them fix it. That makes sense.

"Fine," I said. "We learned about greater than and less than in math today."

"That's good. Do you get it?"

"Yeah, it's easy."

After supper I expected them to call me downstairs for another talk, but they didn't. I just kind of waited nervously in my room and played halfheartedly. When were they going to call me downstairs?

It was almost bedtime, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I went down the stairs, diaper rustling softly under my pants in the quiet of our house in the evening, and asked them. "What are you going to do?" I asked.

They knew what I meant. They looked at each other, then Dad said, "You'll find out soon."

"Er, will I like it? Will I hate it? You're not going to tell me anything?"

Mom smiled in a sad way, as if she were doing something that she didn't like but which was necessary, and said, "It has to be a surprise. Now, it's time for bed, and you'll probably need a change, so back upstairs."

I sighed and went back up the stairs. She was right about my needing a change, and she was probably right about it having to be a surprise. Was there another "deal" coming? Or something different? How soon was "soon?" I sighed and sat down on my bed.

===== Part 31 =====

It was the next morning, and I had just had my wet diaper changed by the always-helpful Nurse Ames. I headed out to recess.

Curt didn't bother me when I went outside, thank goodness, but he was out there bothering some girls. In a corner of the playground where the teachers couldn't see he was chasing some girls holding ... a snake? What was he doing with a snake? Well, chasing girls, obviously, but where did he get it? I stared, trying to make sure it was a real snake.

I heard Tina Mack say to a couple of girls who were watching >from a distance, "What a jerk! But Sandy and Jenny are such wusses anyway, scared of snakes and stuff." That long, straight brown hair of Curt's, along with his blue jean vest, gave him a tough, rebel appearance. The vest, which was too big for him, looked like it had once been a jacket but the arms had come off. Curt's friend Stu looked on, smiling with glee.

Just then, Curt saw me staring, stopped brandishing the snake, and glared back at me. The girls who were watching pretended they hadn't been, the girls he'd been bothering ran away, and Curt came toward me. I took some steps backwards, but he started running. He grabbed the front of my jacket and said in no uncertain terms, "Whatchoo starin' at? You tell anybody, and you know what I'll tell."

"No!" I said. "I won't tell anybody. I swear."

"You better not," he said, and let me go.

That afternoon, I'd been worrying about whether there was going to be a test, and suddenly I felt like I had to make a BM. I'd never done that during school before, because everybody would be able to smell it. I tried my best to hold it off, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Maybe I could time it just before recess.

I kept holding it, and I succeeded. Just before recess I was walking down the hall toward Nurse Ames' office, and I felt my insides cramp again, so I stopped and just let it come out, like I did at home. I felt the mess fill my seat and hoped it stayed in my diaper. Finally, it was over. I had messed my diaper, and I was at school!

I went in to see Nurse Ames, worried about whether she'd be bothered by my messy diaper. "Whew," she said, "did we make a mess this time?"

I nodded sheepishly. Once I'd lowered my pants I lay on the edge of the table, as usual. "Well, don't worry; lots of babies make messes." I supposed she meant that she'd changed lots of messy diapers in her day. She carefully removed my diaper and went to flush the mess down the toilet and toss the dirty diaper.

As she did this, I remembered that she'd dropped a hint the day before about going to Curt's house. "Nurse Ames," I said, "about Curt. I was going to go to his house like you said --"

"I said no such thing," she interrupted, making me feel uncomfortable. But she hadn't really *told* me to go there; she'd just *suggested* it.

"Um, well, anyway, I went to his house, and there was somebody on the porch, and I didn't know how I was going to get inside, so I just went home."

Nurse Ames busily cleaned me up with a baby wipe. "Who says you have to get inside?" she asked.

"Uh, I suppose I could try to get close and watch, but how do I see inside without somebody seeing me?"

She folded the fresh diaper over me and fastened the tapes, saying, "Who says you have to watch?"

"What else would I do? Listen, smell, feel, taste ... listen. Do you suppose I could hear anything?"

"You never know until you try," she said enigmatically, tossing my wet diaper in the trash can as I put my clothes back in order. I thanked her and headed out to recess. I didn't even see Curt that time, and there hadn't been a test, so I'd avoided trouble for another day.

===== Part 32 =====

"I gotta go over there," I whispered urgently to Dave as we walked home from school. "There's gotta be something I can find out!"

"But what if he sees you?" he whispered back.

"He won't see me. I'll hide somewhere."

We reached Dave's house. "OK, good luck!" he whispered, and went inside.

I walked in the direction of Curt's house, trying to think where I could hide and still be close enough to hear. Now, the neighbors on one side of the house had a hedge, but it was on the side of the house that was closest to school. If I hid behind that, Curt would immediately see me as he walked home. That left the other side. I thought there were some bushes over there.

It was decided. I took a roundabout way, came at Curt's house >from the other direction, and guiltily sneaked into the neighbor's yard. This neighbor had bushes and trees and plenty of cover. I didn't want to ever have to mow this person's lawn! I was hoping the neighbor wouldn't see me, but I didn't see a car in the driveway or any lights inside. Probably nobody was home. I picked a bush that was close to Curt's house but not too close to the street, and waited for Curt to get home.

Through an open window I heard what sounded like a TV on inside the house. Listening more, I heard what I thought was an afternoon talk show. If I could hear that, I could probably hear what people were saying, I thought. Over on the sidewalk a few kids walked by, going home from school, but nobody saw me, away from the sidewalk and under a bush. But it seemed Curt was taking his own sweet time walking home. How long did it take him?

Finally I saw him, walking slowly up the concrete front steps. He didn't look the self-confident bully part, as he did at school. He looked as if he didn't want to be here. I couldn't see the front door >from where I was, but he must have quietly gone inside.

"Curt, is that you?" I heard a woman's voice say.

There was a pause. "Yeah, Mom," said Curt's voice, sullenly.

"Curtis, get in here this instant!" the voice said sharply. After a pause I heard Curt's mom bawl him out about the snake incident at school. Somebody must have told. I hoped Curt didn't think it was me. When she was done being angry, she said, "You know what this means. Go upstairs and get ready for your punishment."

Uh-oh, I thought, looks like Curt's in trouble. There was silence then, except for the TV talk show. More quietly I heard Curt's mom say, "Girls, why don't you get dressed up; I think it's a nice day for a walk in the park, and then we can go out for supper."

More talk show. I looked around to make sure nobody could see me. It seemed that the open window only let me hear what went on downstairs, because I couldn't hear a word Curt or his sisters were saying, if anything. During the lull I felt the need to pee and immediately, almost automatically, let go in my diaper.

"Leslie, Laura, be sure and help Suzy with her hair," said Curt's mom. It sounded like the three girls were going out to dinner and Curt was staying behind. Well, he had been pretty nasty to Sandy and Jenny at school; maybe being left all alone at home without supper would teach him a lesson.

Once again, silence. Something was going on upstairs that I couldn't hear; presumably the girls were getting dressed up. I had no idea how girls got dressed up, but with Sarah it usually meant spending lots of time in the bathroom followed by lots of time in her room with the door closed. I listened carefully, but heard nothing except the TV.

"Suzy, you look so pretty!" said Curt's mom's voice. "Why don't you go out on the front porch and enjoy the fresh air while the rest of us get ready?" I heard the front door open, but like I said before I was too far back to see it. Sure enough, Suzy slowly walked out onto the porch and sat down on the swing.

I could only see the back of her head; perhaps that was just as well, because if I'd been able to see her face she might have been able to see me. She had long, straight brown hair that was very shiny, as if it had just been washed. It was tied with a light blue bow, and the dress she wore was also light blue.

Suzy idly swung back and forth in the swing, not turning her head at all, and I waited quietly as one TV talk show ended and another began. Then, the TV abruptly shut off, and I heard the front door open again. "OK, come on, Suzy, let's get in the car," said Curt's mom.

I saw Suzy and two other girls, both apparently older than her but both with straight brown hair of different lengths, walk down the front steps, followed by the mother, who locked the door behind her. They walked away to the other side of the house, out of my sight; presumably they were going toward the driveway. That was the last I saw of them that day.

The question was, what had I learned? That Curt's mother punished him by going out and leaving him alone in the house without dinner? How was that helpful? The car drove away, and I walked home without answers.

===== End of Part 32 =====

So has Chris learned anything useful about Curt? And just what is the surprise his parents have for him, anyway? Coming up: part 33 of "The Diaper Deal." Stay tuned!

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