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Title: | Community Service
Name: | Anonymous
Email: | Not given
Gender: | Male
Current Age: | 22
Posting Date: | 09/13/09
Story Contents: |
A- Post-toddler (4-8)* |  | R- Sisters, other girls* |
B- Pre-teen (9-12)* |  | S- Babysitters |
C- Teen (13-17) | ● | T- Masturbation |
D- Adult (18+) |  | U- Sexual situations |
E- Cloth diapers* |  | V- Gay |
F- Disposable diapers | ● | W- Erections | ●
G- Pee | ● | X- Bedwetting |
H- Poop* |  | Y- Accidents | ●
I- Exposed diapers/pantslessness* | ● | Z- Punishment/Diaper Discipline |
J- Multiple diapers* |  | 1- Female Domination* |
K- Baby paraphernalia |  | 2- Enemas |
L- Mother |  | 3- Restraints |
M- Father |  | 4- Crying |
N- Aunt |  | 5- Spanking |
O- Uncle |  | 6- Humiliation | ●
P- Brothers (diapered) |  | 7- Babying |
Q- Brothers (not diapered) |  | 8- Regression |
*Denotes Deekerian story elements
Summary: | A young man about to graduate high school needs community service hours to get into the college he wants. The only way to get the hours is to be a patient at the nursing home, which eventually results in diapers...
Deekerian Score (20 is max.) [?]: | 2 (10%)

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    “You are a solid B student, well rounded in most areas, and a good
    candidate for this school,” the recruiter said.

    I was pleased, though I sort of had expected it.

    “Thank you,” I said.

    “There is one issue though, are you planning on getting the civic duty
    seal?”

    “I wasn’t, I thought you said I was well rounded?”

    “You are, but the civic duty seal would give you that extra edge,
    probably mean a scholarship too.”

    I paused, “Well then, I guess I need to do community service.”

    And with that the interview ended.

    That was in January, and I figured I had plenty of time.

    Now it was May, and I was frantically searching for a way to get in 144
    hours of service. The library was a common place to get hours, and so
    of course it was full. I tried homeless shelters, everything, and
    nothing was available. I gave up and resigned myself to community
    college for a year.

    And then, I was driving home one day and saw it: The Golden Days
    Nursing Home. Maybe I could work there? I pulled in – cutting across a
    few lanes of traffic in the process.

    I parked sort of crooked and walked in.

    “Hi, can I help you?” spoke the secretary.

    “I’m looking for a place to do some community service,” I explained.

    “Well, we can give you a few hours, but most of the volunteer positions
    are already full.”

    I paused, thinking that a few was better than none, but realized I
    wouldn’t get the seal if I didn’t get all 144 hours.

    “I really need a lot of hours, actually, is there any way I could get
    that? I could work like 20 hour shifts,” I was near begging, but still
    held a little dignity.

    “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do,” she said.

    I looked at her nametag, it read Mary Beth.

    “Mary Beth, please, I’d do anything, this is my last chance,” I said,
    “I have to get these hours to get into the school I want.”

    She seemed sympathetic, but shook her head.

    I was about to leave when I noticed a chart in the lobby. I walked over
    to it and it was a map of who was in what room. I noticed that several
    of the rooms were empty.

    “Why are so many of the rooms empty?” I asked.

    Mary Beth sighed, “Wish I knew. We aren’t really in that great
    financial shape, so maybe we just can’t take in that many patients, but
    I don’t think many people know about us.”

    I thought for a second, “What if I was admitted as a patient? I could
    get 24/7 community service hours, and then at the end of it, I’d write
    an article for the paper or something, it would get you all the
    publicity you needed and me the hours.”

    She paused, then grinned and laughed, “You know that might just work,
    let me call up the coordinator and see what he thinks.”

    I walked to the bathroom as she picked up the phone, and I noticed that
    the rooms did seem kind of nice. I washed my hands and walked back out.
    When I saw Mary Beth again, she was standing beside a man who I assumed
    was coordinator.

    “Hi,” he said, “I’m Steve. I hear you have an interesting proposal.”

    “Yes sir,” I said, “If you will allow it.”

    “Come with me for a minute,” he said and I followed him to his office.

    When we got there he sat down at his desk and I sat in a chair on the
    opposite side. He handed me a sheet of paper and I started reading.
    Basically, it said that it cost $6,000 a month to care for a patient.

    “Lot’s of families can’t afford to have a family member live here. We
    aren’t much more expensive than other facilities either, but the costs
    keep going up. I like you idea, but even if you were here a week, that
    would be about $1,200 dollars.”

    “Sir,” I said, “You already have the staff, I assume, and I’m sure
    meals for a week and that sort of thing wouldn’t be that much. I think
    it would be worth it if I could write a positive review in the paper
    for you.”

    “This is true. Why don’t I give you a call later today, after I talk
    with the paper, and I can give you a final decision.”

    I thanked him with a handshake and walked out the door.

    I got the call a few hours later and Steve explained, “The paper loved
    it, it’s a human interest story and will be on the front page of the
    regional section unless it’s a slow news day, when it could be front
    page. They even offered to pay any expenses we have so we can actually
    put you through the whole gambit. The only issue for both Golden Days
    and the paper is that we need to be sure you will follow through. If
    you quit after half a week, then we both are out a lot of money and
    resources. So we need you to sign a contract. In exchange for the
    community service hours you need, you will agree to complete the full
    week as a patient here, and then write an article in the paper about
    your experiences. Preferably the more positive ones.”

    He pulled out the contact and said, “If you are willing, we can begin
    this Saturday. You’ll have to come about 11 for an orientation of
    sorts, but we will officially admit you at midnight. You will be here
    until the following Saturday at midnight, at which point you will be
    free to go. If you should decide to quit before then, you will owe us
    the cost of keeping you for the week, the $1,200 and owe the paper
    about a $500 missed deadline fee.”

    I paused, decided that it was okay, and signed the contact. And that
    was that.

    My parents drove me over to Golden Ages about quarter til 11. As soon
    as I walked in I was led to a conference room. They gave me my room
    assignment and asked if I had any questions. I told them that if I was
    going to be a patient, I would have to know anything I patient would
    know, but they said I would just learn on the go.

    They explained that they had assigned me care based on their average
    patient, which made sense, and went over a few of the rules of the
    home. I would have a television in my room and could request reading
    material. There was a buzzer if I needed assistance but a staff nurse
    or intern would be around on a regular basis to see how I was doing and
    give me my medication – they had decided that to make the experience
    more real they would have to give me some “medication,” just placeboes,
    but all of their patients had to take real medications several times a
    day.

    It was about 5 till midnight when Steve stood up and a nurse walked in.

    Steve said, “For the weekend, your nurse will be Ms. Janice. Come
    Monday we will assign a weekday worker to you.”

    I nodded. Ms. Janice was about 45 years old, and looked friendly
    enough. Steve walked out and I was left sitting in the conference room
    with her. She smiled and then handed me a new set of clothes, “The
    patients all wear those most of the time.”

    I nodded and was about to go change into them, basically scrubs, when I
    saw that in the between the top and pants was something white. I pulled
    it out and gawked for a moment – it was an adult pull-up!

    Ms. Janice noticed and explained, “82 percent of our patients have some
    level of incontinence. We use various garments for different levels,
    and this was the median.”

    I must have looked horrified, as she said, “Don’t worry. It’s just to
    get you thinking and feeling like a patient. There are bathrooms on
    every hall of course. You not thinking on bailing on us already?”

    I had been, but I laughed and said, “It would cost me almost $2,000 to
    bail, I can’t do that now.” And took the clothes and walked into the
    bathroom. I took off my tee and slipped on the light blue scrubs
    easily, but when I took my pants off I paused. I paused again as I slid
    my boxers down, and paused again as I pulled up my new underpants. Then
    I slid on the scrub pants and carried all my old clothes out to the
    conference room.

    Janice took them and said, ‘See, that wasn’t so bad. Now come with me.”
    I followed her and she led me to one of the empty rooms, 243.

    She left me alone to get settled as she dealt with my old clothes,
    which I would get back at the end of the week. I hopped onto the bed
    and flipped the TV on. They had cable so I watched a baseball game.
    Didn’t think it was so bad.

    Janice came back in and smiled as I shouted at the tv as the Braves
    botched a double play. “You’ll probably fit right in, a lot of the guys
    watch sports in the entertainment room.”

    I grinned, maybe I would fit in.

    She handed me a few pills of different sizes and a glass of juice. I
    took them with a few swallows and commented, “By the end of the week
    I’ll probably be complaining about these things like everyone else to.”

    She laughed, and then said seriously, “You probably will. Now, I have
    to ask this to all my patients, so, Do you need to use the bathroom?”

    I laughed, “Nope.”

    She smiled, “Okay. Just so you know its just down the hall and on the
    left. If you do have to get up and go to the bathroom in the night, you
    have to let one of us know – for security reasons. Just press the
    assistance button. During the day, you are free to go wherever you want
    in the home, except for the other patient’s rooms. You also need to be
    in your room at mealtimes unless you have signed up to participate in a
    common meal – that way we can give you your medications.”

    I nodded. She asked if there was anything I needed, and I said I’d
    probably want some reading material tomorrow. She asked if I was
    planning on participating in the church service and I said no that I’d
    just sleep in. Then she said, “Lights out are usually about midnight,
    so goodnight.”

    She flipped the lights off and I crawled under the covers. The tv still
    was on, as the game was in the 8th. When it was over I was about to
    fall asleep when I decided I did need to use the bathroom. I got up and
    walked out the door, and was almost immediately stopped by one of the
    late night nurses running her rounds.

    “Can I help you?” she asked, not as nice as Mary Beth had when I first
    came in, but firm enough to remind me I forgot to press the assistance
    button. I explained that I just had to use the bathroom and she said,
    “Okay, wait in your room for just one moment then I can come with you.”

    That was a little embarrassing I thought, but did as I was told.

    As she walked down the hall with me she explained, “A lot of our
    patients try to escape at night. If their assist light is on we know
    that someone is with them. It’s when someone is missing with the light
    off that we have an issue. Sometimes it’s just a case of dementia.”

    I nodded – that made sense. She waited outside the bathroom door as I
    walked in. I had forgotten about the pull-up but was able to get past
    the thought and after washing my hands walked back out.

    “So do you actually have to help some people use the bathroom?” I
    asked.

    She smiled and said, “No, those who need that kind of help are on a
    different wing and are more one on one.”

    I came back to my room and she pulled out a gizmo and pressed it to the
    assist panel. The light dimmed, and she laughed, “assistance given.”

    I slept well the rest of the night, and woke up to Ms. Janice saying,
    “Good morning.”

    I opened my eyes and she handed me a tray with breakfast and with my
    pills. I took them and started eating. She laid some new clothes on a
    table on the other end of the room, “We make sure you have clean
    clothes every day, so just toss these in that hamper,” she said
    pointing to a hamper I had missed last night, “And then we will get you
    some of that reading material.”

    She left and I turned back on the TV, then crawled out of bed and
    changed. My change included a new pull-up, and it was just as strange
    to put it on this time. The books didn’t come for a while, so I found
    another ball game – Nats and Padres, one that no one could rightfully
    care about.

    After a little while I got up and went to the bathroom, then wandered
    around the home for a while. It was kind of disturbing – those who had
    lost their minds more than those whose bodies had gone.

    I went back to the room and the books were there so I started reading,
    but soon got bored. I decided a nap would be a good choice, and fell
    asleep.

    About dinner time I woke up to Janice saying, “You need to take your
    medicine.”

    I groaned and said, “This medicine makes me cranky.”

    Janice laughed. Then she said, “I get off about six, so I don’t know
    who you will get as your weekday worker, but good luck.”

    I nodded and picked back up the book. She walked out and I found myself
    very interested in it all of a sudden. When I was finished with the
    book, I realized it was already 10 o’clock. I fell asleep fairly soon
    after that and woke up to the sound of a new nurse.

    “Hi, I’m Mrs. Applebee,” said about a 55 year old lady, “It’s time for
    you medicine.”

    I looked at it and commented, “This doesn’t look like my usual stuff.”

    She smiled and said, “That’s okay, I assure you this is your medicine.”

    I took the juice and swallowed the pills. “So you’re my weekday worker
    huh?”

    She said, “Yeah, me and some of the interns.”

    “Alright, well what is there to do around here? I’m getting pretty
    bored.”

    She laughed, “Sorry, not much, the game room isn’t open until later.”

    She left and I just flipped on the tv. Pretty soon though, I was
    feeling a little woozy. I thought I was just tired, so I laid back
    down, but I still felt strange. I laid there for a few minutes before I
    pressed the assist button and then passed out.

    When I came to, Steve was standing over me, “I’m so sorry, are you
    alright?”

    I was a little out of it still, but asked, “What happened?”

    “You were given the wrong medication, it made you pass out. Mrs.
    Applebee has been let go.”

    I tried to sit up but quickly got a headache and laid back down again.

    “Don’t worry, you’ll be okay after a while. Just take it easy. We can’t
    give you any more food or anything until its out of your system, so no
    dinner tonight. Just rest.”

    I didn’t think I had much of a choice. I slept the rest of the
    afternoon, and when I woke up, I really had to use the bathroom. I
    pressed the buzzer and waited.

    It seemed like forever, but finally a nurse came by.

    I explained to her that I needed to use the restroom and she said, “I’m
    sorry, your chart says you are under strict orders to not get out of
    bed until tomorrow.”

    “But-“

    “That’s final,” she said.

    “Well, what should I do?”

    She came over and pulled down my pants. I immediately blushed and got a
    little stiff. She laughed, “Most of our patients can do that anymore,”
    and paused, “You’re in a pull-up, so that’ll have to do. I’ll send one
    of the intern’s over to change you in a little while.”

    “Excuse me? Change me?”

    “Yes, change you. You are under strict orders –“ “I know, but I can
    change myself.”

    “How, if you can’t leave your bed?”

    “I’ll manage.”

    “No, for the next day or so one of the interns will have to help you.
    I’m sorry.”

    She walked out the door and I was nearly bursting. And soon, I was
    soaked. And embarrassed. It took me a few minutes to admit I needed
    help but finally hit the assist button.

    A few minutes later in walked Megan. Megan was the cutest girl in my
    class.

    “Megan?” I asked, “What are you doing here?”

    “I’m an intern here, what are you doing here?”

    “Trying to get my community service hours.”

    Steve walked in about that time, “How you doing?”

    “A lot better,” I said, “Those medicines really took it out of me.”

    “Good to hear, and I see you’ve met Megan.”

    “Yes sir,” I said simply.

    “I’ll fill Megan in on your situation later, but for now, she will be
    your weekday worker as we try to find a replacement for Mrs. Applebee.”

    I shuddered and Megan kind of looked puzzled.

    Steve stepped in, “So, why did you press the button?”

    I explained that I had pressed it earlier to use the bathroom and was
    told I had been ordered bed-ridden. Steve nodded, and then turned to
    Megan, “Alright, yeah, he is bedridden, so I guess you’ll have to put
    him in the maximum absorbency briefs.”

    I paused for a just a second before it dawned on me, “You mean
    diapers?”

    “I’m afraid so. It’s not that uncommon for our patients to have to use
    them. But don’t worry, you’ll be out of them by tomorrow,” and with
    that Steve left.

    Megan kind of stood there, then said, “I’ll be right back.”

    She came back with the biggest, thickest diaper I have ever seen.

    “So are you going to tell everyone in school about this?” I asked,
    basically humiliated at the prospect of having a hot girl put me into
    diapers.

    She smiled and said, “It would be worth it, but the Hippocratic oath I
    signed says I can’t. If I break it, I am banned from anything medical
    for like 20 years. So no, no one will no unless you tell them. And I’m
    sure you won’t do that.”

    Then she pulled down my pants and took her nails and pulled apart the
    seams of the pull-up. She pulled it off and rolled it up without
    comment, then started to wipe me clean. Again, I got stiff, but she
    ignored it and started to unfold the diaper. She had me lift as she
    slid it under me and as I lay back down and my bum hit it, I had to
    admit it felt good. Then she sprinkled some powder on me and started to
    tape up the sides as she folded the top over me. Then she pulled a
    little on the front, shifting it from one side to the other, and then
    patted me right on the front, “Snug and comfortable?” she asked, barely
    stopping herself from giggling.

    “So when can I get out of this thing?” I asked.

    “Home rules are that you have to prove you don’t need it,” she said,
    then smiled, “So press the assist button if you need to use the
    bathroom and I’ll decide if I want to be nice or not. I’ll bring your
    medicines by later.”

    She pulled my pants back up and then left, and burst out laughing as
    soon as she thought she was out of earshot.

    I was still worn out, so I just fell back asleep.

    She did come back with the medicines and I made sure they all looked
    right this time. This time she sat down and started talking with me for
    a little while. I admitted to having a crush on her in school, and she
    admitted to never having noticed me once. Of course, she said, “But
    hey, now I won’t be able to not notice you.”

    “So I have a chance?” I asked.

    She laughed, “You might be a little young for me – I don’t date guys in
    diapers.”

    I laughed too, “I think in this case its too old. But hey, why not date
    the rich old guy?”

    She smiled, “Maybe your not so bad. You’re going through a lot to get
    your service hours at least. Well, I’ll be back in a while.”

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