Diaper boy

Babyfur Comic: Aether Foundation Infiltration 2

Babyfur Comic: Aether Foundation Infiltration 2Order by Rogeykun

Draw by tato

Source: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/31921479/

Yes this was what i thought would happen when he starting to act all fuzzy. But i was expecting a pacifier instead of a baby bottle. But maybe that is going to come in the next page?

He sure is one cranky fuzzy angry diaper boy right now. But i bet this Sylveon have everything a baby needs. Even if it is a big baby like this one.

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Super squish pamps – diaperfox25

Someone sure have been a good boy here :) Looks like someone sure is not ready to be moving on to some big boys pants anytime soon. He sure show that diaper who is the boss ;)

(Visited 55 times, 34 visits today)

Def a record for me – yggiToryM

Someone sure have been drinking allot of fluid to be able to produce this kind of soggy diaper. Good think he decided to add to 2 ABU Power Ups to the mix. But it sure most be kind of nice to be wearing this squishy heavy diaper between your legs :)

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Well, that didn’t take long – DiaperSome

Giggle looks like this diaper boy decided to make this clean and dry diaper stinky and messy straight away. Way wait when you really need to go now? The diaper needs to be use at some point ;)

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Room and Board Part 1

This story is written by Babydoc

It had seemed like an ideal situation: reasonable rent, near the campus, well-furnished. It had only a few drawbacks, including a relative lack of privacy, since it was just a room in some lady’s house, and the fact that the lady seemed a bit odd. She was in her late fifties, he thought, and there wasn’t anything he could put his finger on, but her whole attitude seemed just a little off-kilter, as though she was concerned about things most people quietly ignored. Near the end of his first visit, for example, she had asked, out of the blue and suspiciously, if he wet the bed. Shocked and a little insulted, he stammered a denial. But she’d just looked at him, as though she didn’t quite believe him. And she’d said that she wouldn’t rent to a bedwetter, and she showed him a clause in the lease to prove it. He wasn’t worried, as he’d never wet his bed that he could remember, but he certainly thought it strange.

Everything else about the room, he decided, however, was pretty good, and with such a housing shortage in this small college town, he was happy to find an opening on such short notice. The deal included no meals, although he was invited to cook for himself, and he agreed to some nominal chores around the house. As he signed the lease, he thought about the upcoming year, hoping it would be everything he’d expected.

Even into the second week of classes his decision seemed wise. No one other than the lady lived there, and since he spent most of his time at class or in his room, he didn’t run into the lady too much. She didn’t work outside the home, but she apparently had an odd schedule. He never knew when she might be home, but this didn’t bother him. He was happy for a quiet place to live and study.

One day near the end of the second week he came home from classes to find her in his bedroom, pulling the sheets off of his bed. He knocked quietly on the open door to let her know he was there. “I didn’t know laundry service was included,” he said, putting his books on a chair.

She whirled around to face him. He stepped back, a bit alarmed at her sudden movement. “I thought you said you weren’t a bedwetter,” she snapped.

“I’m not,” he said. He had never wet his bed.

“Look at these sheets. What do you call that?” She held up a sopping wet sheet. He moved closer, not accepting her accusation. But as he leaned over he could see that, yes, there was certainly a large yellowish stain that smelled of urine. While he tried to recall having wet the bed the previous night, she kept talking.

“Do you have any idea how much a mattress costs?” she asked rhetorically. “I should have known: you *look* like a bedwetter, that’s what the neighbors said. I should never have let you stay here. Oh, dear! I hope the waterproofing held!” She pulled back the wet sheet to reveal the mattress, which, indeed, was not wet. “Oh, thank goodness. It held this time.” She turned back to him. “What have you got to say for yourself?”

“I…I…don’t remember doing that,” he murmured, intensely embarrassed about the whole incident and the fuss she was making. He had racked his brain, but could not remember anything about it. Yet he could hardly deny those sheets; he couldn’t explain it other than that he must have blocked it out of his memory. “But I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t forget that this was a condition of the lease!” she told him, shaking her finger. “I should throw you out of here right now. But I’ll give you a choice,” she said, appearing to calm down. She rolled the sheet up and set it on the floor by the door, then sat on the bed.

“There are two ways to resolve this. Once, you pack up and get out right this minute. But the problem with that is that you’ll have trouble getting another room with the poor referral I’ll have to give you. In this small town, leaving my house might very well be the same as leaving college; I can’t think of any openings at all, much less for a bedwetter. No one wants to open their home up to that kind of abuse.”

He started to panic as he realized she was probably right. It had been luck, he thought, to stumble on this nice place. Since the college had underestimated acceptances, the dorms were full and every house in town was occupied. What could he do?

“Or two,” she continued with a hint of a smile, “we do things Mama’s way.”

This made him slightly uncomfortable. Again he thought, she sure is weird. But he didn’t really have much of a choice. He at least had to hear her out.

So he, too, sat down. “And what would that be?”

“I want you to be able to stay here, but I also want to be able to make sure the bed stays completely dry. How does that sound to you?”

He wasn’t sure. “Okay, I guess,” he replied hesitantly.

She paused. “Good. Then you’ll see the wisdom in wearing some protection. You see, we could protect the bed itself with a plastic or rubber sheet, but then we still have the sheets with which to deal. No, this is really the only way.”

He didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. Protection? At first he’d thought she’d meant wearing a condom, but that didn’t seem to make sense…

When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “It’ll only be when you sleep in your bed, of course, and you might find it embarrassing, but you could also see it as very appropriate to use an infantile solution for an infantile problem,” she rambled on, and he began to get the picture. She saw a look of horror pass over his face, and knew he’d caught on.

Her tone of voice told him she wasn’t kidding, but he couldn’t believe she was suggesting what he thought she was.

“You can’t mean…”

She nodded, her face serious as stone. “Yes. It’s your choice: you can wear diapers to bed, or you can try to find another landlord’s bed to soil. You pick.”

He stared at the floor, stunned at her absurd proposal. Would she really toss him out? A quick glance at her face was enough to convince him that she would, probably in a heartbeat. And then what would he do? He hardly knew this small town…

He felt his face flush red as he realized he’d have to take her up on her offer. He cleared his throat nervously and looked up toward her, though he couldn’t meet her stare.

“How, uh, long would…*this* go on?” he asked her without emotion, trying to remain distant and seem unaffected.

“Forever, of course,” she said. And then quickly, “While you’re in *this* house, I mean. You think about it, but if you’re still here tonight, I’ll take that as an agreement to stay. In that case, come tell me when you’re ready to go to bed, and we’ll get you all set up.” She smiled and stood, then turned back before she felt. “Otherwise, feel free to use my yellow pages to book a hotel room, which is probably all you could find. Don’t really know what you’d do with your stuff, though. Well, that’s not my problem. Either way, get those smelly wet sheets in the washer immediately, or all bets are off and I confiscate your deposit.” She left.

He spent a little while sitting in silence as he stared at the bed. How could he live with himself for doing such a silly thing? It was embarrassing enough to have wet the bed, but then to be caught and have to be diapered was even worse. How grown-up he’d thought he was coming to college! And then this, the most infantile, embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him. But what choice did he have now? He’d paid rent for this month, and he hardly had cash to be throwing around, even if he could find another place that would allow a “bedwetter,” since it appeared that this was what he was. No, he’d have to sleep in this bed for a while, at least until the end of the month, when his rent was due. Perhaps by then he could find another place.

He washed his sheets, the whole time trying in vain to remember when he’d wet his bed. He must have repressed it, he thought. And the whole thing must have been due to the stress of starting college. Damnedest luck, though, to start wetting his bed now, in this woman’s house, of all places. Now he had to go through this embarrassing ordeal.

After dinner and studying, he nervously approached her as she sat reading. “I’m, um, ready to go to bed now.”

“Ah,” she said, getting up. “You’ll want your diaper then, right?”

“Right,” he murmured, blushing. She disappeared into her bedroom, and he heard the sound of a package being ripped open. She returned not long thereafter carrying a large, white, disposable diaper, which she extended to him and which he hesitantly took.

She indicated the bathroom, saying, “You may change in there; for now we’ll see how you do by yourself. I’ve left some baby powder by the sink for your comfort, and I’d advise you to use it, since it can get pretty hot under the plastic of your diaper. I’ll also tell you now that I’ve left some baby wipes for your use in the morning if you should need them. One more thing: be sure to use the toilet before you put the diaper on. For reasons which will become obvious, you won’t be able to use the toilet again until the morning. Come out when you’ve finished and we’ll take it from there. And just yell if you need help in there,” she said, smiling.

He turned without saying a word, since he could think of nothing appropriate to say. He entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him, immediately setting down his diaper and then eading for and using the toilet. What was that all about, he wondered as he urinated. Bathroom “restriction” hadn’t been part of the bargain. He could understand the necessity of the diaper, but how did it help for him not to use the bathroom? He’d obviously have to ask about that in a minute.

He returned to the sink near the door, picked up his diaper, and briefly considered using the powder before he rejected this idea. It smelled like babies, and he didn’t want to be reminded of how infantile this whole thing was every time he took a breath. So next he took off his shoes, undid and removed his jeans, and pulled his boxers down and off. He was ready, he guessed.

He stared at the diaper on the sink counter, then picked it up and tried to discern how it was supposed to be put on. He hadn’t ever babysat, had no younger siblings, and couldn’t remember his own diaper usage from his childhood, so he was working entirely from scratch. He opened it up, correctly surmised the purpose of the tapes, but saw that the tapes could be fastened either in the front or the back. He tried to slip it through his legs as he stood there in front of the mirror, but, he had no luck. It was only once he’d sat down on it that he realized the tapes had to fasten in front for him to put it on himself at all, since he couldn’t reach the back like that. He actually managed to get it on properly, and after he stood up, he readjusted the tapes so the diaper wouldn’t slide back down his legs.

He looked at himself in the mirror now, standing there in his t-shirt and diaper, and was so embarrassed for having to go through this. Imagine him, having wet his bed! He wouldn’t have believed it had he not seen the spot on the sheets. Facing this “solution” was far harder than any of his classes.

He put his pants back on, not wanting her to see him like this. It was bad enough she’d know he was wearing the diaper at all. He gathered his shoes and underwear and walked to the bathroom door, hearing for the first time the rustle of the plastic of the diaper under his jeans. It made him cringe.

When he reentered the hallway, she was waiting right where he’d left her, and her expression as he approached seemed odd. Her eyes gleamed, and her face radiated happiness, as if she actually enjoyed seeing him in a diaper. Well, he thought, she is protecting her mattress and keeping a tenant; she ought to be somewhat satisfied.

“Alright,” he said to the floor. “I’m all set. I’m going to bed.”

“Not yet,” she told him cheerfully. “First I need you to take those silly pants off and let me see just how well you did with the diaper. It doesn’t help at all if it’s not on properly,” she explained as he stared at her incredulously.

His face flushed deep red as he accommodated her, his hands slowly undoing his buckle and zipper and letting his jeans drop to the ground in front of her.

“You can just step out of those,” she said quickly. “You shan’t need them around here at night, after all.”

His face aflame, he did so, deciding already that he would never be able to tell anybody, not even his family, about this humiliating experience. He’d come to college to grow up, but now look at him!

She knelt in front of him, her face uncomfortably close to his diaper as she inspected his handiwork. He nearly fainted as she reached out and retaped two of the tapes, and he bit his lip when her fingers tugged at the leg elastic and gently pulled the waist up befor deciding she was satisfied.

“Not too bad, for your first time. It’ll get easier, I’m sure. You’ll be allowed to continue diapering yourself for now, unless I notice you having any difficulty with the job.” He couldn’t imagine her putting his diaper on for him; it was bad enough that he had to do it at all.

“Now stand there for just another moment, please,” she instructed him before disappearing back inside her bedroom and reappearing with what looked to him like a huge pair of plastic underwear. She couldn’t mean…

“These are plastic pants, for you to wear over your diaper,” she explained, holding them down to the floor, obviously meaning for him to step into them.

“Hold on,” he said, getting a little overwhelmed. “I didn’t agree to this.”

“But they’re totally necessary,” she said. “All diapers leak, especially at night, and then all of our efforts will be for nothing. Come on, you’re already wearing the diaper; these are hardly any worse.”

He sighed and stepped into the legs of the plastic pants, which she expertly tugged up his legs. “Wait,” he protested. “They don’t fit. They’re way too tight.”

“No, no,” she said, snapping the waistband up above his diaper. “That’s how they prevent leaks.” She spun him around to inspect the rear. He felt a slight tug at the waistband, but didn’t suspect anything unusual until he heard the distinct clicking of a lock snapping shut.

“Hey! What’s that?” he cried, craning his neck around to see what had just been done to him.

“Don’t worry,” she cooed to him. “It’s just a little lock. I have to know you won’t take all of this off during the night. You might not even mean to, but things could get dislodged as you toss and turn in your sleep, and my mattress could end up getting wet. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

He tested the waist of the plastic pants. It was not uncomfortably tight, but would not give at all. “Well, no, of course not,” he said uncertainly. This was more than he’d bargained for, but what could he do?

“This is why I made sure you used the bathroom. I didn’t want to surprise you, you see. Of course, if you still need to go during the night, it wouldn’t be unheard-of actually to use these things; that’s what they were meant for.

“Now, they shouldn’t be uncomfortable, just a little inconvenient, but I have to be able to keep an eye on my little bedwetter, don’t I? I have the key, of course, and in the morning I’ll be more than willing to unlock you so you can get ready for school. And don’t worry, you’ll get used to all this; in a couple of weeks, it’ll all be second nature to come to me each night for a fresh diaper and your plastic panties. It may seem odd now, but it all makes perfect sense, and you’ll get used to it.

“Now let’s get some sleep, okay?” And with that, he watched her disappear into her bedroom and close the door.

He stood there in the hall for a moment, trying to absorb his present situation, but he couldn’t. He wandered back in to the bathroom, noting that the crinkly sound from the diaper was slightly muted now, and he stared at himself again in the mirror. Now he stared at the balloon-like plastic pants he wore, the white tranlucent material still affording him a view of his diaper. He could see the lock on the back now, but couldn’t reach it, nor did he have the key. He wondered where it was, but only idly, since he guessed that letting himself out would be construed as bad faith, and he would be tossed out the door. Indeed, the only shred of dignity to which he clung was the fact that he had managed to keep himself off the street tonight. Ah, well. His ego would heal itself in time, and this was only a very temporary situation.

He headed back to his bedroom, and thought wryly about her invitation to use the diaper for its intended purpose. Right. How embarrassing would that be, to face her in the morning not only in a diaper but in a *used* diaper? He couldn’t be *paid* to submit himself to such humiliation. And how comfortable could it be? So although he was a little worried about his nightly habit of using the toilet in the middle of the night, he still resolved not to use his diaper. He’d simply have to train himself out of that habit for a while.

He wasn’t surprised to find that he didn’t sleep too well that night. The diaper and plastic pants were too new and strange as sensations: bulky yet tight, and warmer than he’d expected. He saw, by the morning, why the powder had been recommended. And he really ended up missing his midnight bathroom trip. By the time his alarm went off in the morning his bladder felt very full, and he eagerly sought out the lady, who was in the kitchen, to unlock him. She did so, and had him remove his plastic pants and give them to her before giving him leave to run to the bathroom. As he struggled out of his plastic pants, she glanced at the indicator strip on the diaper.

“Didn’t use it? You might as well, you know: you’d never be able to tell yourself, it’s such a good diaper these days. And think how much more comfortable you’d be during the night, especially toward morning. Anyway, you’re free to change yourself now. Just bring me the diaper when you’re through, and I’ll show you what to do with it.”

He half-grunted a reply as he dashed off to the bathroom, where he quickly ripped off the diaper and relieved himself in the toilet. He also had his morning bowel movement, an event so regular it had been a joke at home throughout his life. Every morning, without fail, sometimes before, often during, and if not, then immediately after breakfast each and every morning. His family at homne had literally set their clocks by it.

After a shower, he dressed and headed back out to the kitchen, carrying his diaper with him. She was cleaning her breakfast dishes at the sink, and he cleared his throat to tell her he was back.

He held the used diaper awkwardly toward her; she showed him how to wrap it up in itself, and a special little diaper pail in the kitchen where he was to deposit the previous night’s diaper when he had removed it. He was to wrap the diaper in front of her and deposit it there each morning.

“But you don’t really have to throw it away,” he protested. “I didn’t use it, you know.”

“You let me worry about that,” she chided. “I don’t like my boys to wear the same diaper two nights in a row, regardless of whether or not they used it. It just isn’t right.”

He was late for classes, so he just shrugged and left. On his way to campus, though, he wondered about her comment. “Her boys?” What did that mean? There wasn’t anyone else in that house, he knew. She must have had some sons when she was younger. Great, he thought. I get to be lumped in with diaper-wearing toddlers just because I wet the bed.

That night went much the same as the previous night: he went to her when he was ready for bed, he received a diaper, went into the bathroom and peed. This night, though, he put a small amount of the baby powder on his inner thighs to cut down on the sweating he did the night before, and was surprised to experience a flood of remote feelings from his childhood return as he inhaled that infantile perfume. Weird, he thought. He managed to put the diaper on a little more quickly tonight, then went out into the hall to have the diaper adjusted and to have his plastic pants put on and locked. Tonight she complimented him on how nice he smelled, causing him to blush; apparently the powder brought back memories for her as well, he thought. She wished him good night and he went to bed. Again he had trouble sleeping, although he had to admit the powder helped. But his bladder was so uncomfortable as the night went on, and he tossed and turned as morning approached.

When she unlocked him that morning, her comments returned to the subject of using the diaper. “I don’t understand why you don’t just use the diaper instead of being uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter, since we always throw the diaper away anyway, no matter whether you use it or not. Yes, I want to see your diaper in the morning as you dispose of it, but *I* certainly don’t care whether it’s used or not. Oh, well, no sense arguing: it’s *you* that’s uncomfortable.”

After a week of wearing the diapers at night, he began to get more comfortable with them, managing to sleep fairly well, at least in the beginning of the night. He’d used more and more powder each night, as he discovered how nice it felt, and he began not to notice the smell as much. He was even starting to retrain his body not to need the midnight bathroom trip anymore, mostly by restricting fluids after dinner. That way, he wasn’t tempted to use the diaper, and he felt slightly less embarrassed about his diaper-wearing that way. He noted the fact that he hadn’t wet the bed since that one night, which reinforced his impression that it must have been a fluke.

On Friday of that week, he was invited to a party on campus by several of his second-year classmates. He was happy about this opportunity to get his social life in gear, and about the prospect of drinking, which he had done only sporadically in high school and in minimal amounts. He politely informed his landlord, who simply asked him to keep things quiet upon his return that night. She told him to wake her, if she was asleep, for his diaper; she didn’t mind, she said.

So he went off and happily found that beer was readily accessible in the fraternities, even to underage guys like himself. His inexperience, however, led to the consumption of a bit too much alcohol, and after several beers, he couldn’t remember why drinking so much was a bad idea. He walked home at one, and was surprised to find the lady still up, reading.

He was afraid she’d make a big deal about smelling like beer, but she said nothing, handing him his diaper as usual. His foremost thought, as he went through the motions of peeing and then putting his diaper on, was that he’d gotten too buzzed. Not being an experienced drinker, he was nervous about having a hangover tomorrow; he’d asked a friend how to prevent post- party headaches, and the friend had advised him to replace fluids, since dehydration led to many of the hangover symptoms. So once he had his diaper on, he drank deeply from the bathroom tap, until he was satisfied that he’d done all that he could.

The lady smiled as she handed him his plastic pants, but she still didn’t say anything. She’d smelled the beer, and heard the water, and she suspected that tonight would be a special night for him. But he still hadn’t figured out why the beer and water might have been a bad idea.

When he awoke at about three, however, his bladder ready to burst, he quickly realized his mistake. It was actually painful, and much as he tried, he couldn’t drift off back to sleep again. Fully awake, he thought about what he could do about his problem. He could try to hold out until morning, which seemed impossible at this moment. He could wake up the lady and beg for use of the bathroom, but considering all of her urging to use the diaper, he (correctly) thought that she wouldn’t be pleased to be awakened for such a reason. No, he knew his fate was decided, and his face burned with embarrassment even thinking about it. For the first time since he was a baby, he was going to have to “use” a diaper.

The pain convinced him to do it sooner rather than later, so he took a deep breath and pushed his diaphragm down, forcing the urine in his bladder out his urethra into the waiting diaper. He felt a warmth spread between his legs, and was surprised when it didn’t really feel that bad. It spread through his whole diaper area, to his bottom and to the front. Before he knew it, the pain was gone, and the warmth sent him drifting back to sleep…

He woke up at eight thirty that morning, his bladder once again full. By this time, however, his diaper *was* not feeling very comfortable, now being rather cold and damp. He gingerly got out of bed, noting thankfully that the plastic pants had done their job. He felt the wet disposable diaper cling to his skin, and he made his way as quickly as possible to the kitchen, where he knew he’d find the lady.

She was indeed there, and as she caught sight of him waddling in with a saggy, boggy diaper, she let out what was apparently a shriek of joy. He suddenly regained his self-consciousness, which had been momentarily suppressed by his discomfort. He realized he was there in front of her with a visibly wet diaper! How embarrassing. And she was anything but discrete about it.

“Well, well,” she chirped happily. “Finally getting some good use out of those, I see. Glad to know I’m not wasting my time and money. Wow, and a thorough job, too, she said as she unlocked him. “It’s not that bad, is it? Well, congratulations.”

He said nothing, but scurried away to the bathroom to make himself more comfortable. He could think of nothing but his embarrassment at having been seen in a wet diaper. It took some courage after he had showered and dressed to return to the kitchen for breakfast. But he discovered, when he did, that she had prepared a huge meal for him, the first time she had ever done such a thing. He was surprised and pleased, but felt sheepish about handing over his heavy wet diaper to her. He was also embarrassed to have to ask his next question:

“How do I, um, clean those plastic pants? They, uh, got a little wet, too.”

But she sang, “Oh, never mind them. Just leave them in the bathroom and I’ll make sure they’re cleaned. Don’t give them another thought: it’s not at all a big deal.”

And, happy not to have to deal with them, he sat down for his breakfast.

Her special hospitality that day didn’t end there. She cooked the other meals for him and did his laundry, and he really had to admit that he liked the help and attention.

That night, of course, he did not wet his diaper, and the next day she hardly spoke to him at all. The difference in her attitude was obvious, and he thought it odd. She clearly wanted him to wet his diaper at night, but *why* would she want that? The best answer that he could come up with, considering her frugal nature, was that if he wet at night, then she wasn’t “wasting” her money on diapers that weren’t used. He had to admit that as weird as she was, he did like her, and he certainly did appreciate her help with chores, which left him more time to study and relax. So…what would be the harm in indulging her a little? She’d already seen him in a wet diaper, and she didn’t mind. Plus, without his midnight bathroom break he did get uncomfortable toward morning. Why not take advantage?

He therefore began presenting a wet diaper to the lady every morning, and every morning she would coo and fuss, and that evening he’d have a good dinner and help with favors and chores. This went on for several weeks, and just as wetting a diaper every night seemed more and more routine, so, too, did he forget about finding a new place to live. She made the rest of his life so pleasant that he almost didn’t mind the weird diaper thing, which to him grew less and less weird as time went on. He got to where he wouldn’t even pause before peeing in his diaper if he woke during the night, and even found himself thankful for the diaper, since he didn’t have to get out of bed to use the bathroom.

This story is written by Babydoc

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 2

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From dry to wet – DiaperSome

Thats way you have to wear your diaper so it can be there to help you when you end up whit a accident or dont have time to go visit the big boys potty.

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Something silly – yggiToryM

Looks like someones plushy friend is in need of a thick and good diaper to :)

They sure look cute when they are padded together :)

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Kenny Part 18

This story is written by Les Lea

Although the days that followed hung heavy on my shoulders, it was the nights that were worse. Nearly every morning I’d wake up absolutely sodden. Sometimes I’d remember that I’d had a terrible dream but quite often I didn’t remember anything… and that worried me. I’d slipped into being able to wet the bed so easily that I now thought I must have a problem.

Mum wasn’t around much so it was left to auntie to deal with my ‘problem’ but I think she accepted that it was all down to the stress and upset I’d given myself worrying about the upcoming trip and my absolute conviction that we were about to move. I’d not told Jake about my fears as I didn’t want to get him all worked up again, and dear auntie couldn’t put my mind at rest so, as a result, my pajamas and diapers took the full impact of my anxieties.

Even though I tried to hide what was happening from everyone auntie had seen my predicament growing and had done her best to keep its effects to a minimum. She asked me if I needed help but I thought this was something I had to do myself. Every night I made sure I was well diapered and wearing my plastic pants and in the morning, with mum away in the capital, it was auntie who took away and washed the soaked material.

A couple of times I’d arrived home and to my horror had seen the freshly laundered cloth diapers hanging out in the back garden along with my plastic pants. I didn’t want Jake to see them and start asking questions so I mentioned my concerns to auntie who agreed to have everything dried and stored away before we both got back from school. Unfortunately, sometimes she’d been busy and had forgotten so, as we entered through the front door she would make a sudden bolt out the back to bring it all in.


It was strange that during the day at school I was fine, and like Kenny, had taken to wearing my briefs under my shorts and no other protection. We appeared to have no problem in that area though, come the night, I was still unhappy about what was going on at home and told him about my soaked diapers. I voiced my concerns to him that, despite mum only recently saying we weren’t going to move, I was anxious that we might have to. Kenny, lovely Kenny, looked me straight in the eyes and said.

“Do you miss your mummy?”

“Erm, well, yes, of course I do.” I mumbled back wondering how he could ask such a question.

“Do you think Jake does as well?”

“Yes.” I wondered where he was going with this.

“Well… just think how much your mummy is missing you and Jake.” He looked at me to see I understood. “Twice as much.”

“But,” I sort of pleaded, “I don’t want to go somewhere else. I want to be here… with you.”

Kenny held my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Do you think you mummy wants to go?”

When he gets this solemn I find it difficult to hold his gaze because I know he’s pointing out something I have selfishly ignored. “No… I suppose not.”

“I think your mummy is doing her best to stay but, she has to work and if that work is elsewhere, she has to go.”

I knew all this. I wanted him to… I don’t know… tell me I was right and that… er… if the worst came to the worst I could go and live with him and … and… I ended up just sighing.


Kenny also had news for me. During the coming vacation he and his parents were flying to Scotland to see his grandparents… on his father’s side. He was very excited about meeting them as apart from speaking on the phone, he’d only met them when he was a baby and didn’t remember the occasion. He showed me some photographs of boys over there who wore plaid skirts, but he said they were tartan kilts, and it was the national costume. I vaguely remembered this fact from some old movie but it hadn’t sunk in.

He produced another photo of a young man, in his teens, who was looking very striking wearing only his kilt and boots, his chest was naked and pale but had a dark patch of hair… then Kenny nudged me and asked if I knew who it was. I had no idea but the smile and conspiratorial way he was looking at me suggested that I should so I stared harder.

“Is that… erm… is that, your daddy?”

My stunned recognition produced a huge smile that spread across his face and he burst into giggles.
“Yes it is. He was 15 at the time. Doesn’t he look handsome?”

Although at first I thought it looked bizarre, I had to confess there was something very manly about the image. He showed me more photos of men in kilts and apparently, in the army there, they all wear them. They looked fantastic and I told him he had to get a photo of him wearing one for me.


My upcoming trip to the capital was almost forgotten as we talked about Scotland and what he expected to see when he got there. His grandparents live just outside Edinburgh (which Kenny said is pronounced – Edin-bro) and there are historical castles and parades and mountains and lochs (again he said it was pronounced – locks)… ooh and bagpipes, which we both had a good laugh about. He was very excited about the flight, as he said that they’d be in the air for over ten hours and that apparently they show films and stuff. Yes he was very excited and he said that the only thing that would have made it even better was… if I was there with him.

Kenny has the habit of saying the most wonderful things just at the right time and not for the first time (and I doubted it would be the last) I was so grateful that he was my friend.

I asked him if his daddy still had his kilt and he said he did but it was back in Scotland, though he doubted that he’d get into it these days. Apparently they are quite expensive to buy so you never get rid of them… you pass them on to the next generation.

“Oh, so you might have a kilt to wear when you get there,” I enquired.

“S’pose so,” his eyes lit up, “let’s hope so and then I can get that photograph for you.”

When not in class we spent a great deal of time discussing Scotland and what they planned on doing on their trip. There was hardly a break went by without he didn’t come up with another piece of information about the place or something he hoped to do once he arrived.


Because Kenny was going to be in another country, oddly, my trip to the capital didn’t seem as worrying as I was imagining. However, one night as I lay in bed I was suddenly engulfed with ‘thoughts and what ifs’, which had me panicking. What if they decide to stay there? What if he finds a new best friend? Or worse still, what if the plane crashes? Suddenly I was terrified I might not see him again and I was sobbing loudly when auntie came in to see what the problem was.

She hushed and shushed and calmed me down as I lay there unsure of why I’d let my thoughts get so out of hand. Auntie’s reassuring influence was a great help and I was surprised when she asked if I’d wet myself because I quickly realised that I had. Until auntie had asked I was totally unaware of what I’d done but, as usual, once she knew of the situation auntie was quickly on it. My pajamas were off, as were the plastic pants and pull-ups and I was wiped, powdered and thickly re-diapered in record time. She went to my closet and pulled out the pink quilted diaper cover that I had now inherited from Kenny (as he had done mine) and pulled it into place.

“No matter where you go… or Kenny goes,” she said as she eased up my pajamas, “you two will always be together.” She touched her heart briefly. “You boys will always be connected.”

Her words were very comforting and I slipped into a deep sleep reassured that all would be well.


The week building up to recess was full of daily tests and like the rest of the school I had to work hard to keep up. Jake was constantly asking me questions, which, as the older brother I was expected to know the answers to. I tried to help him as best as I could and as I studied he would sit on my bed and we’d work together.

One night, when I thought he’d already gone to bed, I was changing myself and he walked in as I was slipping a pair of thick rubber pants over my thick night time diaper. Again I was caught off-guard and about to shout at him when he said.

“Are you OK?” He came over and put his arm on my shoulder. He was wearing his favourite shorty pajamas that auntie had made for him. The look of concern quickly dispelled my anger and I felt tears begin to well up.

I put my hand on his. “Just really…” I wasn’t sure what to say, “worried about… stuff… the tests…”

I wanted to say ‘and our visit to the capital’ but it was him who said it. “Yer… and mum looks really tired from all her trips… I bet she wishes we could move to save all that travelling.”

He pulled slightly away from me and then added some words I never thought I’d hear from him. “It would stop you being so stressed as well.”

As he said this he sort of looked at my thick padding, “You’ve been having a pretty awful time of it yourself.”

He patted the front of my rubber pants and, at the same moment, I was surprised to feel a huge weight lift from my shoulders. Jake has never been stupid or slow and I was ashamed that I had assumed he had no idea what was happening when in fact he knew but had said nothing so as not to embarrass me. At that moment I loved my little brother and almost squeezed him too tightly showing my appreciation.


“I miss having mum around. I love auntie being with us but I want mum. I want to be with mum.” Jake had put into words much of how I was feeling.

We lay in my bed together talking about what we thought might happen. Like me, he had also decided that this trip to the capital was for us to check things out. He told me how he didn’t want to leave his friends but he wanted mum around more. And, in a very grown up assessment said that we’d moved once and that was great, so who was to say another move wouldn’t also be good?

I was quite pleased with how Jake had taken on the mantle of the older, wiser, clever (my addition) brother and had come to such conclusions. Like Kenny had done, he made me think and perhaps, instead of fighting or worrying about what might happen, I should just go along with it and be positive. I thought Kenny would be proud of me… but then I thought more of Kenny and I knew it was because of him I didn’t want to move.

“If we did move,” Jake continued, “You’d miss Kenny a lot wouldn’t you?”

It was if he was reading my mind. “Just think how cool it would be to show him around the capital on school breaks.” He was smiling to himself as if he’d come up with a really clever plan. “You could become a tour guide.”

He was babbling now, well I thought he was and I just wanted to sleep so, I pulled the cover over us both, hugged him tightly, kissed the back of his head and told him to shut up. He made no move to leave and go to his own room… and I was very grateful to have my brother to cuddle all through the night.


The following day was amazing. I woke up dry (and still snuggling my brother), mum had returned overnight and I breezed through the school tests. Even Kenny commented on how more relaxed I looked and I happily grinned knowing how right he was.

Now I didn’t feel guilty I could talk about going to the capital with the same interest that Kenny had shown for Scotland (except without the kilts) and actually started reading more about the place and making plans to what I’d like to see. Kenny helped, suggesting places he’d love to visit, places he’d heard his mummy and daddy talk about and things he’d found of interest on the net. Even our teacher, Miss Pendle, heard about both our trips and had set us the task of being ‘roving reporters’ so on our return we could tell the class all about our ‘exciting experience’ (her words).

We were both so pleased with our new titles that our thoughts moved to becoming junior journalists on the town’s paper. The fact that in a very short time we’d gone from wanting to be Boy Scouts, pilots and a host of other things (and done nothing about any of them) didn’t matter because… our teacher had said we were to be ‘reporters’. We spent a couple of lunchtimes practicing reading the news on a pretend TV news programme. We kept saying something, and like they did on the real news, we handed over to each other for the next item.

“Coming up – Kenny Morrison and Simon Hudson bring you the latest news, sport and weather.” We’d shuffle some imaginary papers, look at each other and fall into hysterics.


We spent the last day at school making promises and hugging one and other. Kenny was actually going to be flying out early the Saturday morning and we were flying to the capital Saturday afternoon. He said he was excited but also worried about his first flight although his daddy had tried his best to allay any fears. However, he did say he was scared of having to use the bathroom so his mummy had told him not to worry as she would get him well padded before the trip and he could do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. This seemed a great idea and I suggested to mum that it might be a good idea for me to be protected in a similar way prior to our departure.

She wasn’t keen and kept insisting that we’d only be in the air for a couple of hours, if that, but I was resolute that I didn’t want to embarrass myself on my first flight. She pointed out that Jake wasn’t going to be wearing a diaper and plastic pants so didn’t see why I should but as I said I’d do it myself the conversation ended with her shrugging her shoulders.

Auntie whispered that she’d get me ready to make sure I didn’t look too padded and that she’d also been busy and had made special new outfits for Jake and me to wear during our visit


On the day of the flight we actually found out she’d made several. We had blue hoodies and jogging pants (mine with an ‘S’ and Jake’s with a ‘J’ on the front), because she said that the capital can get cool this time of year, and sets of shorts, shirts and t-shirts that looked fantastic for during the day.

I’d had a shower and just about to get ready for the flight when auntie came in to supervise. I didn’t need her but the fact that she’d gone to so much trouble made me happy to let her get involved. As I sat on the bed wrapped in a towel she went to the closet and pulled out a thick, terry diaper. She oiled and powdered me and fastened it in place, then, as a surprise, she fished from her bag another ‘special’ quilted diaper cover in purple. My eyes lit up in delight and auntie said that it was ‘royal’ purple for her little prince. She tugged it into place and got me to stand up and see how it looked and felt. It was awesome.

She suggested that I travel in the hoodie and joggers, and went and suggested that Jake did the same (he had already decided that’s what he’d wear). With the loose pants in place my padding didn’t look too obvious and I was so happy with what auntie had done I gave her a huge hug and kiss.

All the way through our flight I wanted to go for a pee but decided I’d try and hold out until we landed. I don’t know why I made that choice seeing as how I was so adamant that I needed my protection but it pleased me that I could do so. However, I was so desperate to go when we were being driven to our hotel that I couldn’t hold out any longer and had my first wetting experience in the capital.

When we got to our room, mum and auntie were sharing one and Jake and I had another, which was connected by a door, auntie whisked me to the bathroom and, armed with all the stuff she needed, cleaned me up before anyone else was aware. This time, instead of a diaper, auntie decided that as we would be going out and seeing the sights, I’d feel better wearing a pair of briefs, which I happily slipped into.


The view across the city from our room was fantastic and we were eager to explore as soon as possible. Looking out of the window Jake was busy trying to pinpoint exactly where certain places were but in the end had to admit he had no idea. We were just about to go out for a meal when the heavens opened up and it began to pour down so we ended up eating in the hotel’s restaurant, which was very nice but we wanted to see the sights. The weather stopped us going much further but as the hotel was huge, and had loads of things to do, we changed our plans and played in the ‘Games Arcade’, while mum and auntie sat in the lounge opposite drinking coffee and chatting.

At one point I went to ask mum for some more money but I wanted to check out another area for kids. Sadly it was for those who were much younger and although I was tempted to jump in the ball pool, I decided that a ten year-old should be more responsible. However, that little trip took me in a circular route and I ended coming up behind mum and auntie. I wasn’t being sneaky or anything but I over-heard mum saying to her sister that she was dreading tomorrow and was finding it difficult to explain her plans to us. Auntie suddenly caught my eye and, as my heart sank, she swiftly changed the subject.

I knew all my worries had been for a reason and the realisation I was right gave me a queer, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was strange that, although we knew that this trip might mean an eventual move, to have it confirmed like this had an unfortunate effect. I wish had still been wearing my protection as it would have come in useful.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 17

Chapter 19

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