    Orphanage Blues

    by Paddypee

    Chapter One

    	When a boy of twelve, my parents were killed in an auto
    accident, leaving me an orphan Having no next to kin, I was
    placed in an orphanage.
    	Being twelve, there was little chance of my ever being
    adopted. You could say I was stuck there for the next
    several years. the orphanage was rather large. There were
    over 500 kids housed in the ramshackle building. There was
    also a shortage of bathrooms. When I entered the facility I
    was measured by a stick; I've always hated these kinds of
    tests. Being very short and small for my age, I felt
    discriminated against.
    	Needless to say, I was several inches shorter than the
    stick, so I was shuffled off with the other short kids,
    mostly three four and five year olds, that being how short I
    was their size. We were escorted into a room where we were
    assembly lined. We were told to undress, or undressed in
    some cases and directed to a line leading to a bathing area.
    I was getting my bath and, rather enjoying being given a
    bath when I noticed that the child in front of me, being now
    dry, was being diapered. I didn't think much of it until I
    was toweled dry and then laid on a changing table. "Surely
    they're not going to put diapers on me," I thought . I
    thought wrong!
    	"Hold it!" I protested. "I'm too old to wear diapers!"
    I tried to get off the table. Evidently, they were
    accustomed to some protests, for I didn't get anywhere. They
    ganged up on me and forced the diapers on me, ignoring my
    pleas and crying and whatnot. In those days, cloth diapers
    were all that was available; bulky, obvious and very heavy
    when wet. Noisy plastic pants were put on over these to
    prevent leakage. I tried to remove them and was strapped
    into bed for my efforts. I left all alone in my diaper for
    the night.

    Chapter Two

    	Diapered and strapped to the bed and needing to go to
    the bathroom, I struggled valiantly against nature for
    several hours, crying for someone to release me and let me
    use the toilet. It was all in vain as the hot shame of
    uncontrolled urine cascaded and  trickled into the soft
    folds of my hateful diaper. I began to cry at long last. I
    was grieving for myself and for my lost parents.
    	I cried myself to sleep and woke up actually feeling
    better than I'd felt since my parents accident; however, I
    had a wet, very wet diaper on and felt somewhat intimidated
    when the nurse came into the room to check on me. The first
    thing she checked was my sopping diaper, of course.
    	"My, you sure are wet," she said. "Lets get you changed
    and then I'll feed you and then you get to see the
    headmistress about this protest of yours about wearing
    diapers."
    	 True to her word, she changed and fed me a good
    breakfast and soon I was standing before the headmistress.
    She informed me that she was going to show me special
    clemency by giving me a test to see if I actually could be
    amongst the undiapered population. I agreed to take the
    test, anything to get out of these diapers.
    	 I was made to drink three tall glasses of juice which
    took a while as I had just had breakfast and my stomach was
    full. Then I was strapped to a chair with electric sensors
    attached to my crotch that would automatically stop a timer
    at the first sign of wetness.
    	 "If you can hold your water for two hours you will be
    allowed to join the big boys and girls who don't have to
    wear diapers" the headmistress told me "Otherwise, I'm
    afraid I've just wasted my time."
    	 Damn I had to pee already and she hadn't even started
    the clock yet.