I felt the cold air rush around my penis. I
opened my eyes, and looked up at my Mommy. She smiled down at me. I opened my
mouth, but before I could ask for it, she stuck my pacifier in. I sucked
contently. She finished wiping around the base of my very erect penis, and
grabbed the powder. She sprinkled some on. The smell of pee was replaced by the
lovely aroma of powder. She rubbed it in, teasing my penis. She then instructed
me to lift my legs. She slid the old diaper out from underneath me. She told me
to turn over, and I complied. She sprinkled some powder over my soft cheeks,
and rubbed it in there too, ensuring to get right into the crack. I turned over
again, and she slid a fresh diaper under me. I smiled, but it quickly faded
when she drifted off into the blackness.
I woke up. Mom was shaking my shoulder gently.
I battled with my eyelids, trying to get them open. After a couple of seconds,
I broke the crust that had formed during my sleep.
“Morning, sleepy head” she said to me with a smile.
“How’re the diapers?”
“Wet, but if you wait a couple of seconds, you
can have a load too.” I said. She didn’t mind me talking like this. She
preferred it to some of the other names for it. I don’t know what she would
have done if she had heard me say ‘shit’. I glanced across the room, and saw my
sister just getting up. She looked tired, and made her way into the bathroom.
That’s one thing I don’t have to worry about in the morning. I just let go what
needs to come, which usually isn’t much, as it usually comes out whilst I
sleep. Mom left, so I had time to do what I usually did in the mornings. I made
sure that she was downstairs, and started to rub the front of my diaper. Just a
couple of minutes of this action made me shoot my semen into the front of my
diapers. I then let my bowels go.
‘I love my life’ I thought to myself.
You see, I have never been potty trained. Well,
never successfully, anyway. From what I’ve been told, it was started when I was
two. Mom and dad had decided that they had had enough with waiting for me to
‘show signs’, so they just went straight on a tried. Only, I didn’t like the
idea. I didn’t want to give up my diapers, but not because I liked them (not
then, anyway), but because when I did try to hold it in, I couldn’t. Besides, I
liked not having to get up from whatever I was doing to go to the toilet. The
battle that ensued lasted for over two years. They tried everything: Treats;
‘Big boys don’t wear diapers’; even punishment in the end. But it didn’t work.
It seemed that nothing they could do would make me want to give them up. So
they gave up. I had won; they just refused to try any longer. But they didn’t
completely give up. They kept making it obvious that I was in diapers. They
wouldn’t let me have any other clothes on unless we were going anywhere where
it was completely necessary. They were biased to my sister, who had been
trained at the age of one and a half. When I turned five, I decided that I
would have to explain my side of the story to them. I finally managed to get
them to listen to me, and explained that I had difficulty in holding it in.
they knew, deep down in their hearts, that I had tried to train, but I had
failed. Or at least, I had tried for the first 6 months or so. Then I just got
bored. So, I had access to my clothes, they stopped being biased, and
everything was ok.
I have not used a toilet once since that day.
Even when puking, I refused to use the toilet. Instead I have a bucket that
lives in my room. If I’m going to throw up, I throw up in the bucket. Then Mom
puts the puke into the toilet. For five years, I have only been into the
bathroom to have baths, and to do my teeth. That’s it. Of course, nowadays,
with no dad, that means that there is never any chance of the seat being left
up.
The story of dad is a strange one. Mom and dad
are still happily married, but they live apart. As far as I can tell, Mom
refused to move one time, but dad went through with it. So now, we live about
15 minutes drive away from each other. We get together sometimes, for a meal,
or an outing. But other than that, we don’t really see much of him. So that
leaves me, Mom and my sister: Nancy. She’s two years older than me, at 12.
She’s the one that usually changes my diapers. She has had this chore since I
was 6 and she was 8. She doesn’t mind, and has found it interesting over the
years. She has watched my penis go from very small, to quite small, and now its
starting to grow with the onset of puberty. But it’s not huge yet.
She walked back in. I saw her glance over at me,
and a smile started in her face. I think she knew what I did.
“Are you ready for a change?” she asked, whilst
undressing. She’s never been worried about being naked in front of me. She has
shared a room with me since we were tiny, so we are used to seeing each other.
“Guess.” I replied sarcastically.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then” she said,
smiling even more. She pulled the changing mat out from under the chest of
drawers, and sat on top. I let her take over. She pulled my shirt over my head,
and tossed it onto my bed. She pushed me into a lying position, and started to
work on my diapers. She pulled away the plastic pants, and felt the front of
the mass of fabric.
“You’ve soaked them good” she said, as she
started to undo the pins.
“Well, you saw how much I drank yesterday.”
“True,” she replied, “And I suppose you’ll want
to refer to the fact that you didn’t have to get up in the middle of the night
to pee.” She said.
She knows me too well.
“Well, you did get up four times. That’s a new
record” I said.
She smiled.
“Last year, you only managed three.”
“I really don’t see how you can stand to just
lie there and pee on yourself. And then you lie in your own pee. You must have
been wet when I went out the fourth time.”
“Yes, but I didn’t want to get out of bed, as I
was nice and warm and cosy.” I said.
By this time, she had removed the first diaper.
It was slightly yellow at the front, and was quickly discarded into the pail.
She started work on the second one, noticing that there was a slight brown
stain on the back of this one.
“Have you got the shits again?” she asked.
“Don’t let Mom hear you say that. Why do you
ask?”
“Well, the back of your diaper is brown, and
this is seven layers. That’s a huge amount of poop.” She said, patting the
clean part of my buttocks. I savoured the feeling of my loose stool being
mashed against my butt.
“You like that, don’t you” she said, after
noticing my smile
“And so what if I do?” I replied.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, its just
weird, that’s all.” She said.
Within a couple of minutes, she had got all of
my diapers off, and there was a large pile in the pail. She then set about the
laborious task of wiping up all of the excess poop. As she did this, my penis
started to stiffen. She smiled.
“You like?” she asked, in a seductive manner.
I giggled, knowing that she liked it when I
did. It gave her the feeling that I was just a little boy, as I was at heart.
As she touched my penis, I winced slightly.
“You really shouldn’t play with yourself in the
morning. It really ruins my fun in the change” she said. I knew what she was
talking about.
“It’s this puberty business” I replied, “it
makes it impossible not to.”
“I suppose,” she replied, “but you could let me
do it for you”
This was a new one. She’d never even
acknowledged my habits, let alone offered to assist me. I made a mental note to
take her up on that offer tomorrow, or maybe even later today.
She finished off the change, being careful of
my sensitive organ, and pinned me into a ten-thick diaper, ensuring, of course,
that I had at least ten pins on each side for each diaper. If you do the maths,
that’s a hell of a lot of pins!
We went downstairs, me waddling like a
three-year-old, and Nancy just walking normally. We took our seats at the
table. I, as usual, was sat in my high chair with the table fixed around me.
That’s another thing you’ll find about me. I like re-visiting my childhood. I
had an OK childhood, I mean, it’s not as though I didn’t have any fun, but I
just didn’t want it to end. As Mom started to take away some of my ‘little boy things’ I expressed a
dislike. So, she just ended up bringing them back again.
So now, even though I am ten years old, I still
play with toys made for kids more around the age of five. I still have quite a
lot of Lego, which I flatly refused to give away (and, even though she doesn't
want anyone to know, Nancy likes to play with too!), as well as some Fisher
Price toys that we got at a jumble sale. In fact, if you look around my life,
you will find that i can be a lot more childish than i look at a first glance.
That is, if you look around my life. You may not see it if you were just
passing through the house, reading the electricity meter, but if you actually
got to know me a bit, then you would see it.
After breakfast, I waddled into the lounge, and
grabbed a couple of my favourite matchbox cars. As I started to drive them
around the rug in the middle of the room, Nancy came in and turned on the TV.
She was flicking through the channels, when she came across a diaper advert.
Ever since i had started to wear diapers full time again, I had looked out for
diaper adverts on TV. She automatically stopped flicking when she saw my head
snap up to watch the ad. It was one of the old ones. For Goodnights, as it
happens. I went back to driving my cars, and she went back to the flicking.
After about five minutes of it, she got bored, and suggested that we played
with the Lego together. There we go – you see, she likes the Lego.
After breakfast, I waddled into the lounge, and grabbed a couple of my favourite matchbox cars. As I started to drive them around the rug in the middle of the room, Nancy came in and turned on the TV. She was flicking through the channels, when she came across a diaper advert. Ever since I had started to wear diapers full time again, I had looked out for diaper adverts on TV. She automatically stopped flicking when she saw my head snap up to watch the ad. It was one of the old ones. For Goodnights, as it happens. I went back to driving my cars, and she went back to the flicking. After about five minutes of it, she got bored, and suggested that we played with the Lego together. There we go – you see, she likes the Lego.
I agreed, and got up. Just as I got to my feet, I felt my bowels let loose. There was a muffled fart to accompany it. Nancy glanced at me, and I just smiled. She shook her head, almost definitely thinking how weird I am. But then, who isn’t? (Weird that is, not thinking I’m weird)!
We went upstairs, and got out the large box that I had. Nancy tipped the entire contents into the middle of our floor, and started to sort the pieces. I helped, and pretty soon, we had piles of bits, all categorised in the usual way.
“What do you want to build?” I asked, letting another load go into the back of my diapers.
“A toilet?” Nancy asked, sarcastically.
“OK.” I replied, “If that’s what you really want…”
“No, Timmy, not a toilet.” She said, pretending to be annoyed.
We both giggled.
“I don’t know.” She finally said, “Why don’t you choose?”
“Well, anything I choose, you always disagree with, so you choose.” I replied.
“Tell you what,” she replied, “whatever you choose, I promise to build”
“OK.” I said, thinking, “I choose … uh …” I looked around, “our bedroom” I finally said.
“Our bedroom?” she asked, hinting at a dislike of the idea.
“You said you’d build it, no matter what.” I said, before she could suggest something else. She agreed, and we set to work.
I let my bowels loose at least another three times during that Lego session. Nancy was right, I did have the shits.
The fourth time I dirtied my diapers, Nancy stopped what she was building.
“Are you going to keep doing that?” she asked.
“Yes. Why?” I replied.
“It’s disgusting. I think I’d better change you before you overflow.”
“OK. It’s getting cold now anyway.” I said, knowing this would annoy her slightly.
She helped me up onto the top of the dresser, and started the laborious task of unpinning my diapers.
“Geez, Timmy, it’s got a brown stain on the outside. That’s ten diapers thick. You definitely have the shits.” She said, whilst starting to unpin my first diaper.
I just smiled. I always have, and always will enjoy the feeling of fresh poop in the back of my diaper.
Needless to say, when she got down to my bare butt, there was a huge mess. It had even made its way up to near my belly button.
“I’m not wiping this.” She said in disgust. “Come, and I’ll wash it off in the bathroom.” She said, leading me out of our room. She helped me into the bath, and then started up the shower attachment. She washed the excess poop off my butt, and grabbed an old towel specifically used for these occasions. She wiped the last of my poop off with that, and led me back to our room. She then started to powder. She did my butt first. By the time she had powdered the whole of that, my penis was rock hard. She knew what I wanted her to do, and therefore she did.
“We’ll have to get rid of this.” She said, “Otherwise your diaper won’t fit properly.”
Even though a diaper would fit over my erection, my hormones stopped me from disagreeing. She started to rub it. I closed my eyes, and smiled.
“I take it you like that, then” she said, speeding up.
Now, this was quite embarrassing for me, as I had never even acknowledged that I masturbated to anyone, never mind my sister. But for some odd reason, the embarrassment just seemed to add to the pleasure of the experience. After a couple of minutes, I had forgotten about my embarrassment, and just let the natural thing happen. I shot my load all over my stomach, and Nancy just kept rubbing. Only when I started to show signs of it hurting, did she stop.
“There,” she said, “I bet that feels better?”
I giggled, and nodded.
She wiped up my semen with a wipe, and proceeded to diaper my, now soft, penis, being careful not to touch it too much as it hurt.