    Growing Up In Nappies

    Summary: A retrospective story on Lewis as he remembers growing up in
    nappies, and looks forward to the rest of his school career and life.
    story:

    Growing Up In Nappies- Part 1

    	I remember my first day of school, all those years ago. My
    parents had been trying to potty train me for months already. I had a
    potty in my room that I had been using almost every day, and every
    other night ... but the times they came to empty the potty were as
    frequent as the times they had to change my training pants. The day
    before school started they tried so hard to get me to prove I could
    stay dry, and they gave me a pair of big-boy underpants. I was so happy
    to get them! Something new and exciting for a five-year-old. But it
    wasn't even lunchtime before I'd wet them for the first time, and
    before I went to bed, they took off another soiled pair. When I went to
    sleep, I was in a nappy once again.
    	The next morning, I didn't get the big-boy underpants again, but
    I didn't mind ... they turned out to be uncomfortable when I did my
    wees and poos in them, so they obviously weren't for me, I felt! My
    mother started the morning by changing me in to another nappy, not even
    a training pant, and said she was sure lots of other children wore
    nappies, too. Of course they did, I thought! As far as I was concerned,
    boys wore nappies (and I could only assume girls did, too) and the
    toilets were for grownups.
    	My nappy was already wet when I walked away from my mum for the
    first time and entered the school. I can't remember all the details of
    that day, but what's very clear is the memory of sitting in my new
    chair and doing a poo in my nappy, watching the boy across from me
    fidgeting to try and stop going to the loo in his pants when the
    teacher said he'd have to wait to use the toilet, and wondering why he
    didn't just put on a nappy. It was only a few days later that I
    realised that I was the only person in the class who wandered off with
    the teacher's assistant once or twice a day to have my nappy changed -
    and I never felt that I was weird for it ... all I kept thinking was
    how strange it was of all the other boys and girls not to wear one,
    too!
    	I guess that's why I suddenly became so much harder to potty
    train. When I began to realise that potty training would mean no more
    nappies and having to wait for the teacher to say I could do a wee or a
    poo, I resisted it. The potty in my room began to go completely unused,
    except for when my parents would try and make me sit on it for whatever
    reason. I would usually then just wait for them to give me a new nappy
    before I even tried to relieve myself. I wanted to keep them!
    	They left it for my first year at school, then tried again over
    the summer holiday. That phase of toilet training must have lasted
    three years, as I was nine before they finally gave up and left me in
    nappies, assuming I would grow out of it. A year or two afterwards,
    they took me to doctors and had me tested for conditions, gave me
    medications, stuff like that ... nothing "worked" because there was
    nothing to cure. I just like my nappies and I wasn't giving them up. My
    parents were aggravated by this sometimes ... one time, for instance,
    they simply took away all my nappies for a few days and wouldn't buy me
    new ones. I was so confused by everything I just stayed in bed and
    cried, wetting the bed and making messes in it. They felt they were
    being cruel and gave me my nappies back. Later that year though, they
    tried something else - spanking me during every nappy change. That
    lasted a few months, but they gave it up when they realised it wasn't
    working.
    	I stayed at that same primary school all the way through. The
    kids in my class grew up with me, and were perfectly used to my wearing
    a nappy. Some of them even changed me on occasion. And I did have a few
    friends - I'm not gonna pretend that the kid who wears nappies was
    super popular, but I wasn't unpopular either.
    	Primary school didn't last forever, though. I knew that most of
    the people I would be at secondary school with were not from my last
    school, and they wouldn't be used to having a kid in nappies. Before I
    went, I was scared, and I even volunteered to try some potty training
    by myself. But at that time, wearing the nappy had become so ingrained,
    I couldn't shake it. I managed to make it to the toilet, or the large
    potty in my room my parents bought me, for a poo about four times out
    of five ... but the times wee and poo ended up in my nappy proved that
    there was no way I was heading to secondary school dry and in
    underpants.
    	Before I started there, the head of the lower school assured me
    and my parents that I would not be the only person in my year or in the
    whole school who went to the sick room at least once a day for a nappy
    change, although he admitted most of those who did that had special
    needs. I was embarrassed at the prospect of ending up being known as
    the guy whose only friends are from the special classes ... I know that
    sounds mean, and I have nothing against anyone with special needs ...
    but I still wanted to try and be as popular as I could.
    	On my first day, I tried to keep my nappy dry as long as I could,
    but I was so damn nervous that it ended up wet, just like my first day
    of school seven years previously. I knew from experience no-one could
    smell my nappies unless I did a poo, so I tried not to let my
    nervousness show. With any luck I could master holding on for poos and
    so I might have been able to get through the next few years with my
    nappies undetected.
    	That first day's lunchtime, my form teacher discretely showed me
    where the sick room was. As promised, there was the short queue of
    people who wore nappies to school. Again, without wanting to sound
    mean, some of them were clearly from the special needs classes. The
    only ones who looked normal were a boy about my age (who I later found
    out was actually autistic) and another boy who must have been at least
    16. My form teacher asked this boy to look after me.
    	Even though he was five years older than me, Sam became a close
    friend of mine for the two years he was still at the school. He seemed
    to be as glad to find a "normal" nappy wearer as I was, even with the
    age gap.
    	But it turned out I was naïve to expect to get through all those
    years at secondary school without anyone finding out what was
    underneath my trousers the entire time. And unfortunately, I found out
    only one week in to my time there...

    Growing Up In Nappies- Part 2

    	I was dead nervous about my first PE session. I knew what
    happened at boys' schools in the UK during the first term of the year,
    at least - rugby. I'd never played at Primary school, and it scared me
    a bit. It always looked so violent and all that. Not to mention it was
    the first time I'd be attempting to hide my nappy as I put on my kit in
    the changing rooms.
    	Having both those things to be nervous about, I discussed them
    with Sam over lunch. He told me to try and enjoy it ... these
    experiences are what you make of them! And he told me that it would be
    easy to hide my nappy in the changing room as long as I got their early
    and got in to one of the cubicles instead of the main changing area.
    Taking heed of his advice, I asked if we could go change each other in
    the sick room straight away so I could head for the changing rooms
    afterwards.
    	He said he didn't need a change, but we finished our lunches
    quickly and headed for the sick room. After he took my wet nappy off, I
    did a poo in to it so it was out of the way, then he cleaned me up and
    wrapped me in two nappies so I'd be well protected for the rugby.
    	I went to pick up my kit bag and headed straight for the changing
    rooms ... there were only one or two guys dotted around the main area
    in various stages of undress. I gulped when I saw that the cubicles
    were only curtained off from view - there was no way to lock myself
    away from anyone who wanted to peak in and see me. Slowly telling
    myself that no-one would randomly want to see me undressing, I sidled
    in to an inconspicuous looking box in the corner of the changing room
    and closed the curtain behind me. For the first five minutes, I just
    sat on the little bench and stared at the curtain, testing my theory
    that no-one would want to open it, almost frozen in fear.
    	When five minutes were up, though, the bell rang, and it wasn't
    long before every other boy in my year was filing in to the changing
    rooms... increasing the chances that one of them would see me.
    Ultimately, though, I wasn't as scared by this as I was the voice of
    the PE teacher shouting over the noise, "Anyone not ready to go in five
    minutes will be spending the next two hours running around the fields
    in whatever they happen to be wearing at that time!" Being unable to
    tell at this early stage of my school career whether or not he was
    joking, with shivering hands I pulled off my shirt, then shoes and
    socks.
    	Taking a deep breath, my trousers came off last. I was standing
    just in my nappies for a second or two ... seconds that seemed like
    days as I desperately clambered in to my gym shorts, praying that they
    covered the white plastic of the nappies. After twelve years of wearing
    a nappy, I knew that the "bulge" didn't matter - people just assumed
    you had a big butt if they saw a bulge, which was fine by me, I had a
    big butt anyway. But it was the white plastic I had to be careful about
    hiding.
    	Partially relieved to have them covered up once again in what I
    was supposed to be wearing, I pulled on my jersey, then the thick socks
    and rugby boots. With a minute or two still to spare, I reached in to
    my nappy and felt that I'd already wet myself ... not surprising when I
    was nervous, I suppose. And it was only the inside nappy that was wet,
    despite the slits, so far, so that wasn't too bad.
    	Straightening up once again, I headed out in to the main changing
    room, mentally bracing myself against the one-hundred boys that I
    thought could start pointing and laughing at any moment ... but it
    never came. Feeling like a kid getting away with stealing sweets from a
    shop, I walked out of the changing rooms, where a number of other boys
    were already ready.
    	It took nearly another ten minutes for everyone else to be ready,
    telling me that of course the teacher was kidding after all. But in
    those ten minutes, it was just time to get more nervous. Other boys
    around me were talking about how much they were looking forward to
    rugby, which only made me more nervous. I sat on a bench outside to
    wait. Suddenly I felt, with panic, the feeling I'd only just started
    getting used to - I needed to poo again. I looked hastily towards the
    changing rooms, where there were toilets, but the teacher had finally
    come out of there with the last of the boys, and was directing everyone
    towards the field. It was too late.
    	I was so nervous that I didn't want to get up from the bench, for
    fear that it would cause my muscles to let go and I'd shit my nappy.
    Seconds later, though, the teacher passed where I was and pointed
    towards me and some other boys, saying, "Let's go, lads!" as if we were
    about to do one of the most exciting things ever.
    	Too scared of what would happen if I didn't do so, I got up and
    started walking, concentrating hard on not pooing. When we got to the
    fields, the teacher lined us up, and once everyone was ready, said,
    "Right, lads. One of the most important skills in rugger, what we're
    gonna practice today, is tackling."
    	That was too much ... first day on the job, and we were getting
    right in there with the most violent (as I saw it) thing. I let go of
    the concentration on my but to soak in the fact we were about to have
    to push each other around ... and so my butt felt that it was okay to
    let go. I let a load in to my nappy, and once I'd started I couldn't
    stop. With my cock joining in the fun, I wet and messed the doubler
    more, probably, than the one Sam had just taken off me not twenty
    minutes ago. As this only made me more nervous, I struggled to pay
    attention to what the teacher was telling us to do.
    	After a warm up run and stretches, all during which the nappy's
    load was shifted around significantly, giving me an oddly pleasant
    feeling in an unpleasant setting, we got in to pairs. I was paired with
    someone who wasn't even in my form, whose name I didn't know. With
    black hair and an oddly mature stature for a twelve-year-old, I thought
    he was kind of cute, but didn't have time to think about that. I was
    supposed to tackle him to the ground, then be tackled by him, all the
    while hoping that while we were doing it, he didn't smell the firm load
    of crap nestled against my backside.
    	The teacher blew his whistle, and I ran towards my partner. He
    tried to dodge me, but I stuck on course, grabbed him round the waist
    and got him to the floor. I had to admit to myself that it was a bit of
    fun. He smiled at me and said, "Good job!" I wondered if his demeanour
    meant that he'd played rugby before.
    	We got up and got a distance away again, and a minute or two
    later the teacher blew the whistle again. This time, I was really
    nervous ... I was about to be pushed to the ground. As my partner got
    close, I chickened out and got out of his way. But he seemed to mistake
    it for sportsmanly dodging, and followed me. I continued to try and get
    out of his way, and put my hand out to prevent him from knocking me
    down. Clearly determined though, he grabbed me by the waist of my
    shorts and pulled me to the ground with him. At first it was a shock,
    but it didn't take me long to realise it didn't hurt as much as I
    thought it would, and eventually I smiled and exhaled in relief. Then,
    I realised he was still held on to the waist of my shorts ... and he
    had pulled them down ever so slightly. I was lying on my front, and I
    craned my neck around to see him lying similarly, with his hand pulling
    down on the shorts, his eyes focussed widely on the top of my nappies.
    Promptly, his mouth spread in to a wicked smile, and with strong hands,
    and with no resistance from me, petrified, he pulled my shorts down all
    the way and said, loud enough for at least the closest dozen boys to
    hear, "Lewis, are you wearing a nappy!?" with a laugh.
    	Everyone stopped what they were doing, and the laughing and
    pointing quickly spread around the entire group. I shook off my fear as
    it quickly turned to embarrassment, and still lying down, I took both
    my hands to the edges of my shorts to pull them back up again, but I
    couldn't against the stronger hand of my partner.
    	Quickly, but not quickly enough, the teacher intervened and got
    the boy off me so I could pull my shorts back up with tears in my eyes.
    He stopped everyone laughing, told him to run laps for the rest of the
    session, and continued to try and teach the rest of us rugby.
    	Mere hours later, though, we were back in the changing rooms.
    Enough people ran ahead of me to take up the cubicles so I was forced
    back in to the main changing area. Intellectually, I now knew I had
    nothing to hide, and like back at primary school, everyone could see my
    nappy because everyone knew it was there. But I still felt scared at
    pulling my shorts down, which I eventually had to do. "Oooo, nice
    nappy, Lewis," said the nearest person. Another half a dozen laughed.
    	"Wait," said another, "eeew, Lewis, have you actually shat
    yourself?" I turned beetroot red, realising that now we were away from
    the fresh air, it was easier to smell the contents of my nappy.
    	Unexpectedly, at that point, I felt a spank on my butt. I whipped
    round to see the spanker laughing himself to death as if he'd just told
    the best joke the school had ever heard. Other people were laughing
    too. One said, "It's only fair! My little brother gets spanked when he
    wets himself."
    	"Well, in that case," said another voice. It belonged to my
    partner, who'd returned from his laps. With the same strong arms, he
    grabbed my hands, pulled me towards him as he sat on a bench and tugged
    me over his knees. He then started to give me a proper over-the-knee
    spanking. It wasn't to hurt me, they were just light spanks, and I
    cried because of the embarrassment, not the pain. His hand contacted
    the back of my dirty nappy about ten times before the loud voice of the
    PE teacher bellowed, "That's enough!!!" The boy was taken off to see
    the head teacher, and everyone else was told to let me change in peace.
    	I was never treated that badly about my diapers by anyone ever
    again at the school. People clearly got over the novelty and didn't
    want the same punishment as that boy, who turned out to be called
    Terence, got - he was put in a month's worth of Saturday detentions.
    But, with my secret out already, life was never normal for me at
    school...

## Rate This Story: ### 4 3 2 1 ##### Click "Submit" at bottom when finished. ###### "4" = highest rating (The following information requested is optional, though your participation is highly encouraged.)
Name: |
Age: | <8 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 >18
What diapers do you wear? | Cloth Disposable Multiple Underpants I do not wear diapers
Are your diapers plain white? | Always Usually Sometimes Rarely Never I do not wear diapers
Do you wear multiple diapers? | Always Usually Sometimes Rarely Never I do not wear diapers
Are you pantsless at home while in diapers? | Always Usually Sometimes Rarely Never I do not wear diapers
How do you use your diapers? | Pee Poop
Who else in your family has read this story? | Mother Father Older Brother Younger Brother Older Sister Younger Sister
Your comments: |
Parents' comments: |
Brothers' comments: |
Sisters' comments: |

CAUTION!!! Pressing "Reset" will delete ALL of your data entered!