2011

Camilla nodded her slowly and left the room, it didn't take her long to come back holding two items a chair and a paddle, she presented the paddle to Madison who flinched and squirmed uncomfortably, it was pink with bright sparkly gold letters that said her name, it was the kind of paddle she saw in Alice's room that had Alice' name on it that Ana had spanked her with. Camilla gave the paddle to Madison who looked at it deeply, it was big enough to cover both her cheeks and light enough to be fast, but strong enough to hit with some force, if Madison hadn't used the potty earlier she would have used her diaper now.

WHY such a "tall" gear with that engine? I dropped back into "realistic" (3.73:1) since my drag days ended, and through the pipes on street tires I can get an 11.19 @ 122mph out of it...slicks and a 4.56;1 gear would likely put me in the 10.4x-10.5X range but then t's not drivable on the highway, and after my last restoration, I like showing it, MELTING the X-PENSIVE rubber and once in a while opening the dump pipes, then driving softly when the cruiser inevitably shows up LOL! What is yours in? Mine is in the pic in my avatar ('78 Monte Carlo, DRASTICALLY stiffened frame, BIG brakes, tubular control arms but stock height  550lb srings up front, OEM on the rears as now I love winding, twisted mountain roads and finding "the edge"..... LOVE scaring the ever living shit out of people!

I've read about the concept...but wasn't aware we did it here...PA is the nation's largest waste importer (last I checked at least) so YOU'D THINK we'd FAR MORE of these plants......I just checked, Pa has 6, none within 90 miles of me and we're getting most of NYC's solid waste in landfills in this area. BACKWARDS ASS LOGIC! I read they handle enough trash for 25k people (I'm sure there are larger ones out there) but I see the trash trucks all day every day on the highways around me, and they're heading to landfills up here!

Maddison froze in place and thought about her situation; it made sense, yet it was strange. She took a deep breath and said, "Mom, I trust you, so we can do this." Maddison finished, "I accept what I have to do."

Sorry for the long delay folks, I find my muse when it hits me and I have the energy   Chapter 5   Still tormented by the growing pain in my guts, I flipped onto my knees, my forehead pressing firmly into the padded surface of the exam table as I clutched at my stomach with my heavily mittened hands. As a new wave of pain hit, I became momentarily distracted, only to find my bladder releasing a heavy and hot torrent of piss into the abundant padding of my ridiculously thick overnight diaper. I gasped in shock, and sadly this was enough of a further distraction to release what faint hold I had over my anal sphincter.   As the first wave of semi-solid mush started to escape, I found myself leaning farther forward onto my head, pushing my padded ass high into the air as my body pushed the first of its contents into the seat of my Pamper. Now compared to yesterday where I had intentionally shit my diaper (yes that pains me to say) at the intentional whim of my lizard brain, today my lizard brain was running on a fully autonomous path. Whether from the shock of the glass invader, or the medication in the lubricant that the nurse had used, things were on full autopilot. There was nothing I could do to prevent wave after wave of mess from pushing its way out of my body and into the rapidly expanding seat of my diaper. When at long last the relentless onslaught had subsided, I slumped onto my belly, burying my face into the table, stiffling my sobs.   It wasn’t long before I felt Mom’s hand on my shoulder as she spoke. “Oh honey, it’s ok, it was just a poopy accident. Thank goodness we kept you in your overnight Huggies today, not a drop of it escaped. And since you weren’t even wearing your pants, we didn’t have to worry about them getting wrecked either. Over all, I think we can call this one a big win for a big job. Now don’t you worry, Momma will help get you all cleaned up and into a nice fresh diapey and you will feel so much better.” Still too shocked to really process events I allowed myself to roll over, prompted by her hand on my shoulder, only to be hit by a sickening squelch as the weight of my body pressed down into the mass of muck that now occupied the seat of my diaper, spreading it in every direction. All I could do was lay there frozen as she lifted my diaper bag from the floor and set it by my feet on then examination table.   Slowly and methodically, she began to extract the required contents to change my messy diaper. First and foremost came a fresh diaper, fortunately of the daytime variety. FYI, you get a real impression of where your life has sunk to when you realize that you are now considering yourself fortunate to be getting changed into a daytime diaper. Next was a tub (bag I guess?) of adult sized wipes, a bottle of baby powder and a tub of rash cream which she sat on the counter beside her. Not wasting any time she grabbed a pair of gloves from one of the boxes on the wall, making a comment that she might need to stock up on them if messy accidents were going to become a more common occurrence, and pulling over a trash can. With swift and surprisingly practised motions, she had the 4 tapes of my diaper torn open and the front splayed down between my legs. Needless to say, the odour in the room instantly became significantly more foul with this action. Reaching for some wipes, she furiously began wiping at my crotch, dragging as much of the mess down into the already destroyed diaper as she could.   At some point she must have decided she had done what she could, as he hoisted by rear into the air by grabbing my ankles with one hand and dragging my well used diaper out with the other before rolling it and dropping it onto the trash bin, all the while keeping my legs held up. She proceeded to grab more wipes and continue the process before finally becoming satisfied and releasing my legs, ditching her gloves with the last of the used wipes in the bin.   She then proceeded to grab my fresh diaper from beside my head, fully unfurled it to its massive length, creased it down the middle before twisting and manipulating it in several directions, all the while accompanied by a cacophony of plastic crinkling. At long last she seemed satisfied and in one fell motion, had my legs scooped up again and the clean diaper slid up under my butt.   Next came the tub of diaper rash cream as she commented on how I was already getting red down there. She proceeded to generously apply the cold, thick cream into every nook and cranny she could find before wiping here hand with yet another wipe. She had just picked up the bottle of baby powder when there was a knock at the door. “Yes, come in. Oh! Dr. Arnold, that was quick. I can just finish changing Dylan’s diaper real quick and then you can examine him.” “Oh that won’t be necessary Mrs. Marshall, you can just leave his diaper open underneath of him like that, it will make my exam much quicker.”   With that, the Dr. proceeded to ask Mom for a rundown of what had been going on, since apparently the opinion of a 16 year old boy meant nothing in the matter. Mom of course spared no details, walking the doctor through the incident in the store, my messy accident in the parking lot, the soaked evening diaper at home, the overnight debacle, and of course, the very recent mess right here in this room.   “Well, I see, this is a very sudden onset, of course young teens often go through periods of rapid change and growth in their bodies. Hopefully there is nothing serious and we can soon chalk this up to mere growing pains.”   With that, Dr. Arnold began examining me, starting with basic checks looking in my ears, nose and throat, checking I guess for obvious signs of infection. The next part was rather intrusive, I will spare the details, by my nether regions were examined, searching for signs of ‘physical damage’ as he worded it, before he began examining my belly.   The belly exam was physically uncomfortable as he palpated and probed, and was interrupted by a sudden gasp from my mother which was followed by her rushing in and suddenly fulling the front of my fresh diaper up between my legs. It took me a second to realize, but the blossoming warmth growing in the crotch of my diaper, being pressed in place by my mother’s hand, made it clear that I had started wetting myself while being examined. Mom started to stammer out some words of apology only to be cut off by the doctor.   “Nothing to worry about, I should have expected it, it is common in patients with these types of conditions, although they are usually much younger and their diapers much smaller. But in any case, no harm, your actions saved both the table and myself from unpleasant circumstances.”   Dr. Arnold stepped back from the exam table, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he looked over the charts. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that Mom was currently holding the front of my diaper up to catch the remaining dribbles. “Well, physically speaking, Dylan seems perfectly healthy,” Dr. Arnold began, pulling a stool over and sitting down. “His reflexes are responsive, and there are no signs of a localized infection or physical blockages. Since the physical exam shows no significant findings, I want to look a bit closer at his routines. Susan, what can you tell me about his recent sleep patterns?” Mom sighed, smoothing down the front of my fresh diaper, though she didn’t tape the sides yet, leaving me awkwardly pinned to the table. “Honestly, Doctor, his sleep routine has been a total disaster lately. He stays up far too late locked in his room gaming with his friends. I’ve caught him up past two in the morning on multiple occasions.” “I see,” Dr. Arnold nodded, writing something down. “And what about his intake before bed? Any fluids or snacks?” “Oh, absolutely,” Mom said, giving me a pointed look that made my face burn. “He has a terrible habit of drinking pop and snacking on junk late at night. Between the caffeine, the sugar, and the absolute lack of discipline with his bedtime regime, he’s just completely thrown his internal clock out of whack.” Dr. Arnold leaned back, crossing his arms. “That actually makes a lot of sense, especially given his documented history with nocturnal enuresis. When a teenager has a history of bedwetting, a completely disrupted sleep cycle can cause the brain to misfire. He’s likely falling into such an exhausted, deep sleep state that his mind simply misses the physical cues to wake up and use the washroom. This may also be carrying over into the daytime as his body is simply too far out of whack to maintain basic routines. We already have rather recent sets of scans and blood work from his last annual visit, none of which were indicative of any issues. Because of that, I really don't think further medical testing or expensive specialist visits are necessary right now. Our primary focus needs to be resolving this sleep pattern and enforcing a strict routine.” Mom nodded in agreement. “That’s exactly what my husband and I were thinking. But what can we do to get his sleep under control if his internal clock is this broken?” “I’m going to write a prescription for a specific sleep-aid medication,” Dr. Arnold explained, pulling out his pad and scribbling quickly. “It will help regulate his sleep cycle and force his body into a consistent rhythm. However, Susan, you need to be aware of the immediate side effects. Because this medicine regulates deep sleep, it may make him sleep so heavily for the first few weeks that it will be almost physically impossible for him to wake up to use the toilet. While it may have an immediate effect of intensifying his lack bladder control at night, the goal is to help restore regulation and regular function during the day. Once we see a return to more normal daytime patterns, we can consider reucing his dosage or modifying his medication routines. Hopefully with some luck we can get him back out of diapers and into pull ups at least during the day in short order. After that, we can focus on sleep quality and getting back to dry nights too.” My lizard brain practically short-circuited. A pill that forces me to wet the bed? And what were they talking about, I hadn’t been wetting the bed recently with the exception of last night. I had been dry for a year an a half dammit! “So,” Mom clarified, a knowing smile creeping onto her face, “he absolutely must be heavily diapered every single night?” “Without exception,” Dr. Arnold replied firmly. “Until we get his daytime routine stabilized and his sleep cycle locked in, full protection is a medical necessity. He simply won't have the conscious choice to stay dry.” He handed the slip of paper to Mom. “Take this to your pharmacy, they seem well versed in helping you with Dylan’s issues and can help fully explain the effects of the medicine. They may be able to help offer some options for heavier overnight protection too.” “Absolutely, we will head right over. I already have some extra thick nighttime diapers for Dylan, but if you are concerned that his bedwetting may increase, I will certainly see what they can do to help.” “I would suggest that you inquire about booster pads, they are similar to Dylan’s diapers, but they are an insert that will both absorb additional urine but also allow it to flow through into the main core of the diaper. I should also note that it will be important to keep Dylan well hydrated before bed while on this medication, while it may be detrimental to the state of his diapers in the morning, it is essential for his overall health.” “Oh, absolutely doctor, we will take every step necessary to get my little guy back to some dry clean days, and hopefully eventually some nights too!” Now I’m not sure where the absolute panic set in, but somewhere in amongst all of these conversations between Mom and the doctor—the sleeping medications, the almost forced bedwetting, the additional bedtime fluids which seemed like the absolute opposite of what was needed, finding ways to make my bedtime diapers even thicker than they already were, ‘hoping’ to get me dry during the day... in true lizard-brained fashion, I panicked. I bolted straight up on the exam table and spun myself to the side, simultaneously shedding my now somewhat soggy “fresh” diaper that had been held merely by the weight of Mom’s hand on my crotch. I crashed straight through a cart of medical equipment, sending pieces scattering all across the exam room. I stumbled to the side, only to stop in horror as I came to the realization that my body was now releasing a fresh fountain of hot urine as I stood naked but for my t-shirt. I looked down to see the damage, watching as the golden stream continued to flow without control, arcing neatly right onto my sweatpants, which had landed in a heap on the floor at the foot of the table, seemingly knocked askew in my panic to get off. I hung my head in shame, watching the stream trickle down to dribbles, only interrupted by a noise best described as “harumph” coming from my mother. This was immediately followed by a searing pain as she seized me by my left earlobe to drag me back to the exam table. As if to exaggerate her hurry, the pain in my ear was followed by pain in my butt cheeks as I received three stinging slaps while being encouraged back onto the table. What ensued next was a rather frantic re-diapering, punctuated by the exasperated and panting voice of my mother... “Dylan... James... Marshall.... what in the world... has come over... you! Look at the mess you made! You peed all over the floor, well, mostly on your own pants, but still. Look at this!” Every break in mom’s speech was filled by the sounds and actions of the new diaper being applied to my ass. The unfurling of the plastic shell, the hasty movements to fluff it out, a cloud of baby powder, the front panel being drawn tightly against my abdomen, and the scritching sound as each of the four tapes was pulled open and then pressed firmly against the highly decorated front panel of my fresh diaper. “I can’t believe you! You are acting more like a three year old than a sixteen year old, and that isn’t even accounting for the disasters that you are causing in your diapers. To be honest, a 3 year old would probably be easier to handle than you today.” “Once you are dressed, you can clean up every bit of the mess that you made before we head straight to the pharmacy for your new medications and supplies!” With that, Mom turned and began rummaging in my diaper bag, the truth be told I wasn’t really sure what she was looking for until she turned around, a look of absolute exasperation on her face. “Dylan! I explicitly told you to pack an extra pair of pants. Seriously, I am starting tho think that you actually like parading around in public with your Pampers on display for the world to see! And don’t you think for one second mister that this is going to interrupt any of our plans on the way home. I told you yesterday that I have zero qualms about dragging you around dressed just as you are.” I stared into the open diaper bag, my jaw dropping as I realized I had grabbed the spare daytime diapers, but left the extra sweatpants sitting right on my bed at home. My lizard brain had panicked to save my dignity, but instead, it had just guaranteed that I was about to give the entire medical centre a front-row seat to my new Pampers.