This story is written by Les Lea
As we ate a troop of scouts came into our camp (I think the smell of food may have enticed them in) who were greeted enthusiastically by almost everyone. A few of the older boys thought they looked ‘uncool’ but to my and Kenny’s eyes, and those of most of the younger kids and parents, they looked very smart. They were given some food and drink and they were besieged by all of us firing questions at them and mums and dads taking photos of their off-spring standing with this particularly smart group of young men.
Mrs Morrison took some shots of us chatting to the scouts and we were riveted at the number of badges (and how you earned them) as well as all the exciting things that you got up to if you wore such a splendid uniform. Kenny and I had decided that we would love to become scouts and planned on finding a local group in our town.
I said to Kenny that I thought he’d win loads of badges and that he’d have an armful in next to no time for his sporting and soccer skills alone. He shyly looked away and then said something that stopped any further conversation in its tracks. “They should make a huge badge that would cover your entire arm…” I was anticipating some kind of joke, “for the best, best friend ever.”
I was at a loss as to what to say but Kenny’s friend Buddy, who we’d been playing with earlier, waved us over to where he was standing.
“Hey you guys…” he said conspiratorially, “you want to try something…” he peered around checking there was no one else listening, “different?”
We nodded and followed him around the back of the cabins to a little hut that stored a small boat and trailers. There were already another couple of boys there, Craig and Olly, both of them were like Buddy, at a different school and in the year above us but Kenny knew them because they all played against each other in inter-school soccer matches. We acknowledged each other with a “Yo” and waited until Buddy let us in on his ‘something different’.
Suddenly Buddy produced a bottle of beer from behind a little ledge and asked if any of us had tried it before. Both Craig and Olly said they had and liked it, whilst I never had and I doubted if Kenny had either but we didn’t mention this to our older friends. Buddy took first sip and passed it to Craig who took a huge gulp. Olly almost fought it out of his grip to get his turn and then it was passed to Kenny who, just as he was about to take his first taste, was interrupted by the door swinging open.
It was Tim, Buddy’s seven year old brother who wasn’t happy being left on his own. His older brother invited him in and calmed the sudden look of panic on everyone’s face. Kenny took a tentative sip, and by the look on his face he wasn’t happy about it. He passed it to me and I did the same… it was awful. As I passed it back to Buddy, pretending it was great, his little brother grabbed the bottle and also took a huge gulp. It didn’t go down well with him either and most of it bubbled back up through his nose and he sprayed the stuff all around. If we weren’t fairly panicked already the situation might have been funny, however, Tim dropped the bottle and it flooded out across the earthen floor. Buddy promised to get more later but in the meantime we found out a bit more about him and his family.
Kenny asked if his dad had let him have the beer (even though I suspect he already knew it must have been stolen), Buddy just shrugged his shoulders and bragged that he did what he wanted. Apparently, his dad wasn’t his, or Tim’s dad, but their step-dad, his mum had remarried after his real father had run off with a girl at work (not unlike my dad had). The lady with the two children in diapers I’d seen on the shoreline was his real mum but the two kids where their half-brother and sister. He missed his real dad but didn’t get on that well with his step-dad, although his mom seemed very happy with her new husband and all her children.
As the guys talked amongst themselves I began to think of my mum, and what if she re-married. I’d never seen another man in our house, nor had mum introduced Jake or myself to any male friend as far as I could remember. I wondered what it would be like – would I be as unhappy as Buddy was? The conversation between the others faded out due to the lack of beer so the suggestion of a swim was met with cheerful agreement and we all went of back down to the lake.
On our arrival Mrs Morrison called us over and said she wanted some more photos of the two of us. Mr Morrison was fishing at the end of the jetty and had already caught some and she wanted a picture of us holding them up as if we’d been the successful fishermen.
She took a few with Mr Morrison and us all together in shot, then she took a few more of just me and Kenny holding them up. For a joke I was given a big five pound fish to hold and Kenny was given a little tiddler and told to look sad but I was to appear proud of my catch. It was a fun idea and one I hoped would come out well, especially as the idea was that we would then change catch and I’d have the small fish. Mrs Morrison took the first photo and then the fish ‘flapped’ in my grasp. I was taken by surprise as I didn’t expect it to react, it flapped again, and I fumbled trying to keep a grip. Unfortunately, the strength of the fish, its sliminess and my wet hands meant the bold fish slipped from my grasp. There are a series of images that Mrs Morrison took of me trying to capture the escaping, and very much alive, fish as it flapped on the jetty and escaped back into the water.
Everyone was in hysterics but I was mortified that I’d lost Mr Morrison’s catch but after he’d stopped laughing he just said, “So much for our supper.”
We spent the next hour on the jetty trying to catch more fish but only had bites from tiny ones that we threw back.
Later we were walking past Buddy’s cabin and heard crying. Tim had just run out of the front door and looked frightened. “Dad caught Buddy stealing more beer,” he said “and he’s getting a spanking.”
As we neared the door we could see Buddy inside the doorway with his jeans and underpants down around his ankles and what looked like a very red bottom. His hands were up rubbing his eyes and we could hear his sobbing from where we were. Suddenly we heard a grown-up’s voice sternly telling Buddy that he shouldn’t ever lie. A man, who I suppose was his step-dad, saw us looking in and for a few seconds made sure we were aware of the naughtiness of the boy who was being told off, and what the results were. Once he’d made sure we saw the redness of Buddy’s bottom he slowly closed the door as he carried on yelling at his ‘son’ for trying to get his little brother drunk. We heard another slap and another burst of crying. We quickly walked away.
We both felt guilty and wondered if he’d told his step-dad that we were there as well and if he had, were we also going to be spanked. I told Kenny that I’d never been spanked in my life, and as it looked painful, wasn’t sure I ever wanted to be either. Kenny was the same but said that he was always getting his bottom smacked when he wore a diaper. He agreed it was more of a playful swipe than a beating but that whenever he wore a diaper people, grown-ups especially, all wanted to pat his padded bottom. Even at school, if he was wearing a diaper, the teachers, and some of the more brave kids, would always find a reason to pat his bum. When his parents diapered him they always finished by patting his tush and sending him on his way. In fact, he reminded me, that was just what had happened the night before; once we were diapered and in our rubber pants, both his parents had patted our bottoms as we went off to bed.
I wondered what it was about diapers that caused such a reaction.
We went off to play and saw Olly with some older boys but didn’t see either Craig or Buddy for the rest of the day. We wondered if Craig’s parents had taken a dim view of their son drinking and grounded him (or worse) but we couldn’t check and was worried in case the same fate, whatever that was, might fall upon us. However, we were soon involved in games with the other kids and we swam in the cool lake, diving and taking turns to swim between each other’s legs. There was loads of laughter and even all the parents, who were sat in the community area drinking wine, beer and coffee, seemed to be having a good time.
Mr Morrison came up with a list of objects that a group of us had to find and bring back to him. The first ones back with everything won a huge bar of chocolate. Soon the small group of eager participants became about 20, so our chances of winning were a lot less… but we had fun anyhow.
I remembered that one of the things on the list we’d seen in the hut and I suspected that no one else would have known about it. So we furtively passed by Buddy’s cabin… not wanting to be discovered in case we were in for trouble. Hanging up on a line outside, getting the slight breeze and sunshine through the trees, were two big squares of diaper material and a couple of pairs of plastic pants all hanging there drying. I half wished that plastic pants were on the list but they weren’t so after a brief scan (and a lot of wishful thinking) we went to collect the object.
We came 5th and didn’t win anything except Mr Morrison’s heartiest congratulations, which I thought was pretty nice as they were accompanied by a hug.
That evening we ate by the lake and under the stars… it was fantastic. Mrs Morrison had made a special kind of picnic, which I enjoyed more than the barbeque if the truth is told, and it was just us four. There were candles set around the area, a blanket of the ground and warm pies and flans, salad and warm chocolate milk for Kenny and me. Mr Morrison had a cool beer and his wife had a cold white wine. I wondered if you had to drink alcohol when you were an adult. I’d only seen my mum sip a glass of wine on special occasions and she never got drunk like I’d seen some people do. Anyway, both Kenny and I had decided, after the beer tasting in the hut, that we would never drink the stuff again, it was really horrible.
Just as the meal was ending the whole area suddenly lit up. Huge bursts of color filled the sky as fireworks exploded in a mass array of light, bangs, sizzles, whistles, cracks and sparkles. The RV camp was celebrating some kind of special award and had organised this superb display that the entire lake could enjoy. It was fantastic. It only lasted a few minutes but we were all spellbound by this colourful exhibition and were sad to see it end, albeit in one massive, final explosion that burst into a million stars.
The final bang of the display had more or less signalled that it was time for bed and I was hopeful that we would be prepared like last night. Indeed, set out on our big double bed were powders and lotions, diaper squares, pins and rubber pants just waiting for our naked bottoms. Seeing as his wife had made the special picnic it was Mr Morrison’s turn to do the honors and he was very thorough. We washed and brushed our teeth first and then came back to find him ready with the first diaper. This time I went first and was happily wiped, creamed, oiled and diapered, which appeared to be more snug than the night before. Then it was Kenny’s turn, and as with me, his dad tickled and pulled faces at him making him giggle as he pinned him into his padded protection. We pulled on our own rubber pants and told to go and wish Mrs Morrison ‘good-night’. As we walked into the main part of the cabin she took a flash photograph of us. Kenny sort of half-heartedly protested but she insisted that we both looked so damn cute she had to have a memory. She took a couple more and then she kissed us both ‘good-night’ – Kenny nodded a knowing nod to me as we both experienced a slight pat on our bottoms from both of them as we waddled off to bed.
This time Kenny got into bed first so that when I climbed in he was behind me. Once more we weren’t wearing a t-shirt so his warm skin against my back as he hugged me felt really nice. We were still a little bit excited about the firework display to immediately fall asleep so we talked some more about the day’s events. The fish ‘escape’ was the funniest episode and it seemed that our fear about being punished for trying some beer was unfounded. I suggested that we try that ‘rubbing’ thing again but Kenny said he liked things as they were. However, he slipped his hand between my pants and diaper and gently stroked my penis. As he did so he rubbed himself up against my bottom and nuzzled the back of my neck. He said it tickled but he liked the feeling, in fact, he said he was enjoying the whole sensation of hugging me. I was also enjoying the feeling down the front of my pants as his warm fingers circled and outlined my penis. This was better than just rubbing against the mattress and I gave myself to happily sighing in pleasure as Kenny took things to a new and much more intimate level.
In the morning Kenny was still clutching me around my rubber pants but I was dying to go to the toilet. I know I could have gone in my diaper but although I didn’t mind if it was an accident I disliked doing anything in them on purpose. He was still fast asleep but the sun was shining in through the window so I knew it wasn’t too early. I slipped from the bed and made my way to the bathroom and wondered in. To my surprise Mr Morrison was there, naked and taking a shower. I gazed at the first completely naked grown man I’d ever seen and was in awe at seeing so many muscles… and hair… all over a person. He saw me standing there and said “Good morning Champ.”
I was still a bit dazed but noticed his t-shirt and shorts on the floor so I guessed he’d been for an early morning run. He looked over his shoulder at me and all I could do was stutter that I had to use the toilet.
“OK, if you gotta go… you gotta go.”
I was really bursting so I thought I’d better do what I said I was going to do yet I struggled trying to get my little penis down the leg from my diaper and rubber pants. He saw me grappling with the problem and turned to suggest I take my pants off first. It was such a simple idea but I was flummoxed by being in his naked presence. However, I managed to slip them down and was able to pee much more easily.
“You know you could have used the diaper… we don’t mind.” He said smiling as he towelled himself dry.
“Mmmm… ok… but…” I stammered as I looked at his bouncing penis, “I don’t like to go…erm… unless I…” I wasn’t sure how to explain it as Kenny had no control when he went in his pants or diaper. “If I can do it properly, in the correct place… erm… it’s better for me.” I eventually mumbled.
“OK, good for you. I hope you rub off on Kenny.”
I was wondering if he knew about last night but I then realised he wanted my way of coping with things to rub off on him. I wasn’t sure if that was ever going to be possible seeing as how Kenny didn’t want to change. Eventually, Mr Morrison pulled the towel around his waist and, giving my hair a gentle ruffle, said I was a good kid and a great influence to have around.
I pulled my rubber pants back up and returned to bed. Kenny had turned over so I was now going to be hugging him. I nuzzled the back of his head and I had to agree, it really was nice to rub my nose up against his fine short white hair. Even though he wasn’t quite yet fully awake he moaned softly at my attention and, as if it was second nature, I slipped my hand down the front of his diaper. It was warm and wet, yet I didn’t pull away I just kept my hand down and slowly played with him. He wriggled contentedly and I wondered if he wanted more.
As I played with him he suddenly sighed and I felt him pee into my hand, filling his diaper once again. I’d never experienced such a sensation and wasn’t sure if I liked it but, as Kenny seemed happy, so was I.
We stayed that way for a while, until has father came in and said we should ‘rise and shine’ as breakfast was almost ready.
“Come on sunshine,” he said shaking his sleepy son, “let’s get you changed.” He already knew that I was dry so he only had one person to worry about.
Still sleepy, Kenny was lifted from the bed and stripped of his rubber pants. His diaper sagged as it had done the day before so his daddy took him into the bathroom and changed him there. He had him showered and dressed in his swim shorts in minutes, whilst I was still searching around for mine as I’d forgotten that Mrs Morrison had taken them away to dry them out. I half wanted to stay in my diaper and I wondered if I could ever get a pair of plastic pants like the young lad had yesterday – the shiny ones with the colourful, cartoon characters all over them. Thankfully, Mr Morrison returned with my dry shorts and we were called through to breakfast.
The morning was fun and we could occasionally hear waves of sound coming down the lake from the scout jamboree. We would have liked to have visited but we didn’t have time, however, as this was our last morning, we decided to make the most of it. We tried our hand, unsuccessfully, at canoeing – we simply couldn’t get the balance right so we abandoned that idea and set to rowing our little boat. There were still many people around but we could see that quite a few families were packing up ready to return home.
After lunch we changed out of our wet shorts and into something a little drier for the journey home. Kenny was wearing (without a diaper this time) his pink shorts with a striped pink and pale blue top. I was dressed in my dark blue shorts and my striped green and blue top, we looked again like we’d been dressed to coordinate but it wasn’t planned.
After a few more photographs it was time to leave but I had this huge paper cup of juice I wanted to finish first. Just as I was raising it to my mouth we could hear a strange sort of rumbling noise that started to get louder. The rumble began to turn into a roar and we suddenly saw two military jets flying at treetop level zooming down from the north of the lake. As they passed overhead the roar was deafening and as they pulled away the scream from their engines was scarily piercing, so much so that I spilled my cup of juice all over myself.
I looked around and the people watching were cheering the jets (Mr Morrison said they were F-22s, which were based at an Air Force Base about 20 miles away) and I suppose the military power that they represented. I just looked down at my soggy, once clean clothes and felt stupid that I’d reacted in that way. Kenny had been equally shocked by the noise and I noticed that he’d had more of an accident than me and his little pink shorts were a mess… front and back.
Mrs Morrison seemed equipped for just such an emergency and she unlocked the cabin for a quick change. Kenny went first, seeing as he was in more dire need of attention. She had him stripped, cleaned, powdered and in a disposable within seconds. She retrieved the rubber pants from her bag that seemed to hold everything, and slipped them over his hips. She found a white t-shirt from somewhere and pulled it over his head. Finally, she fished his thin white soccer shorts from the bottom of her bag and pulled them over the whole thing. He looked clean and bulky so he was happy… then it was my turn.
Mrs Morrison made me step out of all my wet and stained clothes and put them into a plastic bag… she said it was too late to wash them so it would have to be done when I got home. She also noticed that I’d not only spilled my drink I had also wet myself in all the excitement so, I also got wiped and powdered before, without asking, she put me in a disposable and pulled out some more rubber pants. I couldn’t object as I’d used all my clean clothes that mum had packed, and of course I was really quite pleased with the turn of events… I was back in diapers. Unfortunately, apart from another t-shirt she had no more dry shorts so I was hurried into the back seat, fastened in wearing just my diaper and rubber pants.
It felt strange being dressed like that but I was in no position to complain and Kenny immediately engaged me in talking about a future as the pilot of a jet. As we set off our future as scouts was temporarily forgotten as we discussed the merits of two ten year-old getting into the armed forces.
The journey was long and after about an hour we both must have fallen asleep. I only woke up as we pulled up outside my home. Mum was waiting on the porch and as I clambered from the truck I’d forgotten what I was wearing. I hugged mum and she hugged me and held me close as she got an update on what had happened over the weekend. Mrs Morrison handed her my backpack and explained why I was wearing what I was. Mum was happy with the explanation and handed them a bag saying she hoped they liked cookies. It was then I identified the smell that had greeted my homecoming, while we’d been gone mum had been indulging in her favourite past time… baking.
“Thank Mr and Mrs Morrison for looking after you so well and taking you to the lake,” mum suggested
I did as I was told, although I would have done anyway and thanked them for such a special trip I’d had a fantastic time. Kenny was still asleep in the back seat so we didn’t wake him and I waved my thanks again as they drove off.
My mum looked at my sleepy face and said she thought it was time for bed. As she guided me into the house I felt her patting my padded bottom, Kenny was right, grown-ups just can’t leave such a thing alone. I was exhausted and went to my room to change and get ready for a bath but, still in my padded bliss I just lay out on my bed and fell straight to sleep.
This story is written by Les Lea
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