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DrunknFox last won the day on January 7 2016

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  1. Hey guys, sorry I haven't posted an update, been busy with adult-stuff, but I should keep to the regular schedule for now. Hope this clears things up. We're about half-way through. I've got ideas flowing like crazy now! --- CHAPTER 10 “For nearly three decades, children, teenagers, and young adults have succumbed to wearing diapers, long past the age of where they’re needed. Recycling Plants are understaffed with employees, stuck dealing with the wretched smell of dirty diapers. Hundreds of thousands of employees are having to work overtime just to pay for their children’s undergarments. All of these things are terribly designed and orchestrated, just to please lobbyists working for the government.” It’s incredible how powerful Activists have become in the last 60 years alone. Mass Media has held the name of Activists so high, that major Progressive movements have acted as a mediator between victims and the government. This was the case with me, which allowed Craig’s organization to essentially pay-out my punishment, so long as they kept me out of trouble. Unfortunately, all Craig could do was keep me isolated from the media while his legal team fought for lenience toward my house-arrest. I really didn’t care anymore, since all I wanted to do was be left alone in shame. It was the next day, and the man returned. Craig, as I came to know him, was the activist founder for the Anti-Diaper Law Organization (ADLO). For the past 20 years, Craig has been working to band together people who were against the Diaper Law. As it turned out, after I was arrested and put on house-arrest, Bryon submit my story to the local servers, which went national, then international; going ‘viral’ as some would call it. My parents were out at work, and Vanessa had begrudgingly received approval to let Craig in, being that his activist organization paid for time to meet with me in my own home, as I stated. He asked me a few personal questions, and our conversation lasted a bit over an hour. “…The way I see it, Owen, you could make a real impact on this country for the better. Tell me about why you don’t want to wear diapers.” He said, pulling out his see-through tablet, and beginning to type up my thoughts. “Umm… I don’t know, I just realized it hasn’t always been this way, I guess.” I muttered. “Uh-huh, and you don’t want to wear them?” He asked, still looking over at me. I looked down, and felt frozen for a second. Although I appeared to be this ‘I don’t want diapers’ kid, I was still dressed in a long sleeved t-shirt and a bright white diaper. “Well… I just don’t want to need to wear diapers.” I admitted, looking over my bulging white crotch, then curling my legs up against me. “Not only need, but the need to use them, right?” He continued, as if I were back in therapy. “Yes, I don’t want to use them either. If I need to use diapers, then why does our house have three bathrooms?” I continued. Craig looked up and down at me, consistently writing into his tablet while I spoke. “So, would you say you’re close to being potty trained?” He asked, putting his stylus up to his lips. “What?” I asked him, as that phrase hadn’t crossed my mind in a long time. “Do you need to wear diapers, or can you, if you needed to, travel across the country without them?” He asked. I trembled a bit at the thought of having to wear underwear. “Uhh… No… I am not.” I shamefully admitted, keeping the truth intact. Craig looked up from his tablet, then paused for a second, and kept glancing back down. “So you’d liked to be potty trained… our team can help you. Can we help you do that?” He continued to ask, swiping through his phone. “Uhh… I guess? I don’t think the law would like it, but really, I don’t know. I’ve never tried to use the toilet.” I continued, while Craig sent out a few virtual messages. “Well, I recommend we get you started on a two-week potty-training crash course. It’ll be quick, but brutal; however, I’m sure you’ll benefit tons from our regiment. It’s one of the top programs for kids who’ve turned 18.” Craig said, beginning to put his tablet into his bag. Craig stood up and reached out his hand. “Are you leaving?” I asked him, still curled up against the back of the sofa. “Yeah, I’ve gotta take care of some paperwork back at the office. I’ll pull a few strings for you, Owen, and make sure you’re both out of trouble, and out of diapers. It may take some time, but I’ll keep in touch.” He said, while I stood up, and shook his hand. Now, I’m pretty short, about 5’ 2”, but Craig absolutely towered over me; nevertheless, I shook his hand, and walked him to the door. “Expect me to come back around in a month and a half; New Years.” He said, putting his hat back on, and saying goodbye. Then I closed the door. As I turned around, Vanessa was standing by living room wall, pointing upstairs. Vanessa changed me into a fresh diaper, then helped me back to my feet, where I was then sent to my room to start working on my homework again. The feeling of having a wet diaper peeled off me once again sparked the feeling of hopelessness, since I had no clue that I was wet. Without my knowledge, I must have peed involuntarily while Craig was sitting right in front of me. So much for being mildly potty-trained. I felt hopeless…. … Two weeks later in December, I got a phone call from a woman at ADLO. In the call, she said I had been approved to begin the potty-training program. It was scheduled to last two-weeks, so it would end before Christmas. According to the representative, the program was cleared through the Sheriff’s Department, however, it would be mandatory for Vanessa to attend, since she was made a temporary legal guardian over me for the time being, and since she was court-ordered. Allegedly, the ADLO slipped the Sheriff’s department some money, which cleared nearly all of my probationary terms, except for the 24/7 overwatch. My parents got home later that evening and Vanessa spoke to them about the phone call. I watched their faces when Vanessa told them everything she heard over the speaker-phone. Neither of my parents were phased. Mom even turned around when she heard Vanessa say ‘ADLO’. Dad glanced at me for a split-second, then wouldn’t look at me for the rest of their conversation. Ever since Craig and the Activists first came to our door, neither one of the seemed the same. My parents haven’t told me much about what’s been going on with them, so I knew something was up, but I didn’t want to dig deeper, I knew whatever it was, it wasn’t good… _______
  2. CHAPTER 9 It was a month into my isolation from my peers, while being on something of a juvenile house-arrest. I was sitting downstairs on the couch, doing my virtual homework in only a diaper and a white t-shirt. Mom and Dad were at work, and Vanessa, my court-ordered babysitter was in the family room, typing up a report for her job. It was the Monday before Thanksgiving, where our house had been quiet, and still. The silence in the house was interrupted by a knock at the front door. As per my instructions, I was not allowed to answer the door, since I had lost all of my house privileges. Vanessa got up and walked over to the door, peered through the peep-hole, then opened the door. “Hi, is Owen home?” a voice asked, but I didn’t recognize it. “No, I’m sorry.” Vanessa responded, while I sat in plain view of the entry way. “But I can see him right there.” The voice responded. I didn’t bother looking over. “He’s unavailable at the moment, can I send a message to him on your behalf?” Vanessa continued. “Yes, please, we’d like an interview with him. This is regarding the Anti-Diaper Law Protests.” The voice continued. I looked over, and quickly got a glimpse of a woman holding a microphone, and a cameraman behind her, pointing the lens at Vanessa. “Well, I’ll pass the message along, but he’s currently under a strict no-contact watch. Have a nice day.” Vanessa nodded, before she shut the door. I wanted to say something, but I knew I didn’t have the rights to say anything. Mom and Dad came home early, less than four hours after the people came to the door. “Owen, to your room, NOW!” Dad shouted, pointing upstairs. I knew what to do, but I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t dare ask questions, lest the punishment grow worse. I’ve been doing much better the last week and a half, so Mom and Dad haven’t been hand-washing me in the bath anymore, but they still keep supervision on me. While I sat in my room, I put my ear to the floor to try and listen in on their conversation. They must have known I was trying to spy on them, because they whispered the entire time. “…the media is covering this….” Mom blurted out at one point, “….it’s ALL over the news…” Dad would say loudly at another point. They spoke quickly, then stopped talking altogether. I kept my ear to the floor for a while after their voices stopped, just in case they kept talking, but after a while, I realized they took the conversation into the garage. I ended up falling asleep on the floor while I waited. When I woke up, Mom was crouching right next to me. I was laying on my back, and sporting a wet diaper that was ballooning around my crotch. “Hey, Owen, let’s get you changed and downstairs. There’s something for you outside.” She said with a lighter tone to her voice. She didn’t look happy, but I could tell she was nervous a little. I grew a tad excited. Mom didn’t walk me into the changing room, but instead changed my diaper right there on the floor. Then she helped me into a nice collared t-shirt and into pants. That was the first time I’d worn pants since I left the sheriff’s station nearly a month prior. Mom walked me downstairs, where a nervous Dad was holding onto the door handle. “What’s going on?” I asked, before Dad opened the door, to a flash of light, then another, and another, intermittently blinding me. I covered my hand over my eyes and tried to see who was on our porch. “Owen! Owen! Is it true you don’t wear diapers?” A female’s voice said, over the crowd of voices. “Owen! When did you stop wearing diapers?” A male’s voice echoed another question, followed by, “Is it true that your parents are abusing you?” The voices continued. I tried to walk out so I could start to answer the wide array of questions, but Dad put his hand on my shoulder and shook his head. Suddenly all questions stopped at once, “Alright, enough! Stop trying to get answers out of him, leave the boy alone!” A loud, masculine voice called out. “I have only one question for you; will you help us get kids out of diapers?” The voice roared above the murmurs of the flashes of light. A heavyweight man, about six-feet tall walked in front of the entire crowd, to where he was nearly inside our house. “What?” I asked. I turned around and saw both Mom and Dad, looking away. The decision was up to me, but I had no idea what the man was talking about. “Please, we’ll pay for your tickets, we’ll talk with the Sheriff, we’ll change your diapers for pete’s sake!” The man continued with a forceful, and merciful tone. “I… uhh.” I started, but was cut off. “We’ve heard all about you through the enormous news coverage, please! I just want to know, will you work with us?” The tall man, dressed in a suit, asked. The entire crowd of 20 or so stopped talking. I turned back around to Mom and Dad. Neither of them would make eye contact. “I have to talk to my Mom and Dad first.” I replied. My answer was met with a harsh silence. Nobody wanted to say anything, not even the Man said a word. They all turned to my parents, who wouldn’t even look in the direction of the crowd. “Mom, Dad? What’s going on?” I asked, tugging on my Dad’s shirt. A single tear rolled down his face, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “They found out about your refusal to wear diapers…” He said at such a low volume I could barely understand. “Who?” I continued. “The Protestors.” Mom finished answering in monotone. I had so many questions, I really had no idea who any of these people were, or why they were crowding our porch on our cul-de-sac. The man tapped on my shoulder, “Excuse your mother’s language, Owen, we’re not protestors, we’re activists! And we want to make a statement to the New United States Government.” The man continued, catching me wide-eyed and bushy-tailed at this new found information. “We want you! We want you to show the world that kids your age, and even younger, don’t need diapers!! We’ve done it in the past, we used to be diaper-less since age 2, so why do we need them up to age 22?” The man shouted, prompting a roar from the crowd of people behind him. I was speechless… ______
  3. It's so sweet to hear her say such nice things about Eric Andre (her boyfriend). His TV show makes him look like a mentally unstable person, and sometimes he can be a bit of a nut, but then you hear her say things like this, and it's comforting. I figured he was a super nice guy outside of his TV show.
  4. After taking some time to reflect on this story, I found a direction to write with, and I think you guys will really enjoy it! I sure do hope so, I'm having fun! Once again, thank you for the feedback! Onward!! ______ CHAPTER 8 In a flash, everything my parents had told me came to bite me on my naked butt. The law getting involved, my Aunt getting jail time for sending her kid to school with a diaper, Bryon’s avoidance of law breakers. The fact was hitting me hard, as I knew I was caught; if I don’t wear a diaper, it’s against the law. I honestly thought it was just another dumb thing parents said to their kids to make sure they behave, but I was wrong. I stood, fearfully still, until the drone’s lights and alert siren chirped off, then was approached by two towering police officers. “Are you Owen?” The thinner officer asked me, while the larger officer walked behind me. “Y-y-yes, s-s-sir.” I shook, holding my hands in front of me. “Well, well, what seems to have happened here? Your diaper came off. Is everything alright?” They questioned me, their stern voices remaining at the same pitch. “Y…yeah.” I couldn’t stop shaking. “Come with us, please.” The officer said, walking me over to the squad car. As we walked, I could feel a stream of urine drain down my legs and into my pants, as we made our way across the field, making it that much worse. The self-driving patrol car ride made it that much more difficult, as thoughts of regret, loathing anticipation, and anxiety filled my mind before we got to the station. The officers seemed to never take their eyes off me behind their sunglasses, which sorta makes sense, since they didn’t put me in handcuffs. “Seems like you wouldn’t be sporting those wet pants if you kept your diaper on.” One of them said a few minutes before the car stopped, and they helped me out. Finally, we walked in. I was taken to a medical supply room, and robotically changed into a bright orange diaper, complete with a stamped number, before I was taken to a room with a desk, where two officers began asking me questions. “You’re not in trouble, Owen, but we just want to know, what were you doing? Were you with anyone? Was someone hurting you? Do you need help?” The barrage of questions, combined with my non-stop crying made it difficult to concentrate. All I could think of, was how much trouble I was going to be in, when my parents came. What would happen to them because of me? After an hour, my parents finally came, and I was let out to the waiting area, where Mom and Dad saw me, acknowledged me, then signed a bunch of paperwork. “…and here’s the ticket for littering, sign here. We’re not going to book you for anything, this time, since he didn’t have a lot to say, and his babysitter called in beforehand, so it seems he’s at fault for this. We can’t do much, since it’s his first offense and he’s still a minor, but we strongly suggest you sign him up for therapy, or have him see a behaviorist therapist.” The police dragged on before they continued with the consequences. Mom and Dad looked incredibly tired and distraught. Their Straight-A’s child had now become something of a felon in the eyes of the law. Mom and Dad had me ride home by myself, while they stayed behind and spoke with the officers. They spoke quietly, and with a calm demeanor before they watched me get into the self-driving car and drive off. A rush of sudden disappointment and shame came over me as I saw my parents holding their heads in their hands, weeping. I felt terrible. I’ve…. done it. I went against the law… and the law won. All of this… over diapers. … The next three weeks went by horribly. I’d rather not discuss what happened, because it’s incredibly embarrassing. Mom and Dad took me out of public school, and had a court-ordered babysitter watch me 24/7 until I could get my act together. When they got home everyday, I was treated like a real infant; hand feeding me, locking high-chairs, hand-bathing me, everything to enforce the fact that I needed to be looked after. It was incredibly humiliating, and all I wanted to do was run away and hide. The second week, Mom brought me to Grandma’s house, where the embarrassment was even worse. Along with the seemingly endless consistent surveillance over me, I was made to attend “counseling”, which was a two hour therapy session, where I spoke with a counselor on why I felt the way I did. My counselor guessed I wanted to be freed from all clothing entirely. He said I felt like I was on a leash, and was pulling, when I should refrain from the tension by minding my authority figures. After all, ‘what good was I really doing to myself?’, or so he recommended I think about. During this period, Dad made me read a 300 page text-book on the “Diaper Law”, which was officiated by the federal government, to prove both my parents’ points, and to further understand the law. I read through it alright, and while it does make sense, historically, it felt too out of place. Dad kept getting upset with me, when I’d try to question about this or that from the past, and he kept reminding me about why we don’t live in the past anymore. He would specifically bring up how cars were run with cancer-causing carcinogens up until four decades ago During this time, I lost all contact with my friends from school. Frankly, I don’t blame them; I’m sure Bryon wouldn’t have even wanted to talk to me by now. I’m sure everyone thought I was a g-damn idiot. Can I blame them? Not really. I was a total jerk, and pushed too hard toward what I thought was right, while not listening to anyone else’s reasoning. It was wrong of me to go against the law…. ______
  5. Hey everyone! Thanks for the feedback! I really like that you're enjoying the story so far! It's the feedback that keeps me writing this story, and the fact that I like where Owen's going with his charade. Anyways, on with the story! ______ CHAPTER 7 The car stopped in front of our house, and reversed into the driveway. “Well, you can program the car to take you home, but until then-“ I began as I stepped out, but Staci followed. “Let’s check your diaper, Owen.” She said, pulling down my pants as I stepped onto the lawn, violating my personal space. “Hey, woah!!” I barked out in surprise, as my undergarments were exposed to the empty neighborhood. “Whoops, we should get you into a dry diaper before you get a rash.” She cooed, and walked me up to the front door. I angrily tried to pull up my pants while sneering at Staci’s backside as she ‘trespassed’ into my house. ~Dear Owen, It is with sincere regret and sympathy for you, that we, your parents, have to assign someone to watch you while we’re away. Your behavior has gotten desperately way out of hand, especially for someone your age. If you can’t be trusted to mind both us, and the law, then we have no other choice but to keep you under supervision until you learn to behave. Signed, Mom and Dad~ I read the note, while Staci undid my diaper, cleaned me up, then put me into a new diaper. “There, all done. Do you want something to eat?” She said, with a cheery smile. “No thanks, I’m full from all this crap I have to deal with.” I replied, while ironically still lying down on a diaper changing table. “That’s not a nice thing to say. Your parents love you, and want you to respect them… and the law.” She said, as I refused to look at her. Staci let me get up from the table after checking my diaper’s fit. “Those look nice on you, I don’t see why you don’t enjoy them?” She asked, while she folded her arms. I was enraged on the inside. It was pretty mean of me to do it, but I really felt a bit of pity revenge was necessary… at the time. I took a few steps out of the room, crouched down a bit, then messed myself while in her direct line of vision. It was just as nasty as I could remember, although I’d been doing it all my life. I turned around and smirked at her, then stood back up, “Want to do it again?” I said, sneering at her. She wasn’t angry, but just a bit confused as to why I didn’t let her know beforehand that I had to go. Staci, once again, changed me. To a degree, I guess I lost, since I was once again at her merci as she got me all cleaned up. “Maybe next time, you should tell me you have to go before I change you?” She tried to compromise, but I was upset. When she finished, I got up from the changing table, then walked out of the room to grab my phone from my desk. “What’s the matter?” She asked. I didn’t respond. I took out my phone and called Bryon. “Hey, Owen, what’s up.” He said over the phone. “Bryon, can we meet up at Anchor Park?” I asked, knowing it was between my house and his. “Sure, Owen, is everything alright?” He asked, sounding concerned. “I’ll tell you everything when we get to the park.” I said, putting my phone back into my jeans pocket, then putting my jeans back on. I had to get the hell out of this house. “Woah, woah, there big guy, you can’t leave, you have homework to do.” Staci sternly said, holding me by my arm as I opened the front door. “I-I’ll get it done when I get back.” I threw my arm out of her reach. “No, you’ll get it done right now, then, maybe you can see your friend.” She said, after listening in on my conversation. I walked outside anyways, then made the short trip to the park. “What’s up?” He asked, as I sat down across from him on the park bench underneath some trees. “Bryon, it’s terrible! My parents….” I began looking around, both to keep my tears away, and to see who was listening, “… my parents hired a babysitter for me!” I just about broke down, but I held it together. “What?! Aren’t you 13?” He said. “YES! I am! I’m in high school!” I said, feeling vindicated of anger and thought. He looked over me, then his brow lowered, and the questioning began. “Is this because of your, ‘oh, we shouldn’t be wearing diapers, it’s not normal, it’s weird and strange and gross’ thing?” He said, mocking me. I didn’t know how to respond frankly. “It…. I-it’s more than that.” I began. Bryon stood up, “I don’t think I can help you, Owen.” He said, beginning to walk away. “Wait, Bryon!” I shouted, and he turned around, “Seriously, what were you thinking? What did you do this time?” He said, irritated. I told him everything. “Jeez, Owen, that’s spiteful, and in the ‘House of God’, too.” He said, looking at me with disgust, while he sat back down. “Well… in hindsight, it almost got me out of church sooner.” I chuckled. “Yeah…. but… at what cost?” He said, feeling a mix of empathy and humiliation. “Even three year olds know to hold it in until the end of whatever they’re doing. I get that you’re against always wearing diapers, and all, but there’s…. unspoken rules and things like that. It’s always been that way.” He continued, arguing against my case. “But… not always…” I began. Bryon rolled his eyes. “I mean…. even you!! You said, you didn’t like wearing diapers.” I argued, recalling what he told me last week, when he said he had to deal with it. “Yeah, it’s not the world’s greatest thing, but it’s not like I can help it. I don’t even wear the best diapers, just the most efficient ones.” He said, pulling open his shorts to look at his puffy white diaper. “But you said you didn't want to.” I stretched the truth. “No, I said if my Mom found out I wasn’t wearing them, she’d send me away, and that’s the truth. It’s not that I don’t like wearing diapers, it’s just…. Man, you’re hard to reason with. It’s the law, Owen. We wear diapers until we’re 18, then we ween off of them. What’s so hard to understand?” He said, really getting upset and frustrated with me. “Why can’t we start weening off them today?” I asked. He exaggeratedly shrugged, “Beats me, but until we’re of age, we have to wear them. It’s black and white like that. I pee 5 times a day, I get changed 2 or 3 times, and life goes on. You’re the only person I know who questions it, and we’re not living in the past anymore.” He said, standing up, frustrated, and beginning to walk away. “Diapers are for babies, and that makes you one.” I shouted at him before he got to the playground area. “What did you just say?” He said, turning around with a look of shock and disbelief. “I said, diapers are for babies! And you should know, since you act like one!” I said, folding my arms toward my chest. He stood still for a moment, “You would know, you’re wearing one.” He said, mocking me, and folding his arms as well. “Oh yeah?!” I smirked, challenging him. I pulled down my pants, and in the middle of the park, took the top two tabs of my diaper, ripped them off, then repeated with the bottom two. My diaper fell to the ground with a thud. Bryon’s mouth was wide open, as if he’d never seen someone naked before. “How about now? Still a baby?” I asked, continuing to smirk, and feeling the wind between my legs. “You…. Y-you better put that back on!” He said, pointing at the dry diaper still laying on the ground. “You gonna put it on me?” I challenged him. Bryon, now looking at me like I was a psychopath, trembled, then turned and began fast walking away. I let out a short laugh, then pulled up my jeans, and left the diaper lying on the ground. I wasn’t going to pick it up, that’s for sure. I turned around and took a single step forward, before I heard that all too familiar sound; the buzzing and chirping of a police-drone, flying toward me at a million miles-an-hour. It came to about 6 feet away from me, and began lighting me up with a spotlight, and spinning a red and blue flashing light. “Alert…. Alert….” The drone chirped over and over. I began shaking in fear, and took another step forward, before it grew a tad louder, and chirped again. ____
  6. CHAPTER 6 Saturday began my weekend, away from school, but stuck with family. Mom and Dad made sure to keep a close watch on me, especially with the way I’ve been acting up. I had no electronics, except for my school tablet, but since my homework was done, they made me stay downstairs, and especially away from the bathrooms. I sulked on the inside, but pretended it was just a normal weekend. On Sunday, Mom woke me up early for church. It’s always such a waste of 2 hours, to have to go wake up early every Sunday, then sit in a large room with 200 other people, while we read a book that’s already been read a million times. “C’mon, Owen, I’ll change you before you get dressed in your nice clothes.” Mom said, helping up from my bed, and into the changing room. “Ugh, okay.” I complained, irritated that I had to wake up early once again. Mom removed my wet diaper, then routinely cleaned me up and put me into a dry diaper. “I wouldn’t want you stinking during the sermon.” She said. And that hatched an devious idea…. We took our car into the parking lot, then left, while it self-parked in the parking garage across the street. The line into church was longer than usual, which I devilishly grinned as we slowly made our way into the oversized cathedral. Over the years, religion spiked in the US, which explained why this church has expanded and been under construction constantly since we’ve been going here. “Mom, I need to use the bathroom.” I said, when he entered the threshold of the church doors. “You’re wearing a diaper, Owen, you should know this by now.” She said. I felt nervous and shaky as we walked in. An hour into the sermon, the entire church remained silent, while the pastor rambled on about whatever. For 13 years, I usually phased out of whatever he said, and tried to think of other things. “Mom, I told you, I need to use the bathroom.” I complained again, whispering to Mom once more. “Then go!” She insisted, getting annoyed with my constant requests to leave. But I took her advice. As the pastor’s voice began to rise, I hunched over in the seat, and messed my diaper, making that familiar crackling noise, and ended with a small spurt as I went. Unfortunately, at the same time, everyone rose and stood up while the organ began playing, indicating some local band was going to perform for the church. Mom looked down at me while she rose, and caught me purposefully using my diaper. “Oh, dang it, Owen.” She said, grabbing me by the arm, and forcefully walking us out of the main hall. “Seriously, Owen? Why do you have to humiliate me and you in the middle of the church?” She irately said, while she wiped me clean on one of the bathroom changing tables. “I told you I had to use the bathroom, you should’ve let me go.” I smirked. “Then you should’ve gone before the session began, so I could’ve cleaned you up beforehand.” She argued back. “I took your advice, and used my diaper. That’s what it’s there for, right?” I continued to smirk, folding my arms behind my head. She didn’t reply. Instead, she finished changing me, then pulled me back into the cathedral. She was not happy. Church ended soon after, and we all left. Mom was in a bad mood, and Dad was confused. The ride home was silent and awkward, but I knew I won that round. I spent the majority if my time in my room, while my parents discussed my behavior and what to do. I could hear them through the floorboards, and they really argued for a while, until it was time for bed. Dad came upstairs and silently changed me, then helped me into bed. “You’re really going to regret this, Owen. Please, I don’t know why you’re doing this, but please stop.” He softly said before he shut my door, and let me go to sleep. It was only 8 o’clock at night… The next day, school went by quickly, and it appeared everything was back to normal. Bryon went on about his boring weekend, while I told him I was in the same boat. This might as well have been the first weekend I didn’t do a single productive thing, except for the drawing I was working on. School ended, and Bryon and I walked back to our pick-up spot, where he said goodbye, and I waited for my car. My car came by, and when I got in, a woman, sitting in the back seat, said hello. “Hi, is this the wrong car?” I asked, looking around at our self-driving vehicle. “Nope, Owen, right?” She asked, while I inspected the interior of our car to make sure it was ours. “Uhh, yeah, but who are you?” I asked, facing the lady once more. “I’m Staci, your babysitter.” She said, while the car took off, back home. My heart stopped. After the diaper-law passed, having a baby-sitter began one of the most humiliating things a teenager can have. Most kids after age 7 don’t have a babysitter. This is by far, the worst punishment I could’ve ever asked for. “Uhh, no, I think you have the wrong family, or wrong person, or wrong life!” I snapped at her, as we were midway to our house. “Don’t talk back to me, Mister.” She pointed her finger at me, getting up to my face. This is absolutely ridiculous. ______
  7. CHAPTER 5 I woke up early the next day, on a Friday, and stumbled out of bed, as my wet diaper swung around like a pendulum between my legs. I walked into the bathroom, took it off, and threw it away into the trash can, which had a digital read-out, to measure how often I trashed my diapers. I turned on the shower, and yawned while the water heated up. As I stared at my naked self in the mirror, my eyes glanced to the toilet, which I rarely used. I could feel I had to poop, which was a bit rare for me to do in the morning. The sight of the toilet, and growing pain in my lower abdomen made me feel like taking a risk. I poked my head outside of the bathroom door, saw the coast was clear, then I closed it and locked it. My arms shook as I lifted the lid, and sat down on the cold plastic seat. I felt like I was angering the Gods, as I grunted and pushed, eventually using the toilet the way it was intended. It felt… bizarre and unearthly, as the water splashed back onto my butt. A little pee came out, but nothing too much, since I guess I emptied my bladder in my sleep. When I finished, I couldn’t help but feel bemused by the proper use of the toilet. I felt disgusted and horribly degenerated to know that I went backwards on everything I’ve known since I’ve been alive. I closed the lid, then was struck with the terror, of realizing I had to flush. Mom would surely hear, and I was sure I would be found out. I slowly flushed anyways, trying my hardest not to make a lot of sound. After my shower, Mom met me in the changing room. I got up on the table, and she greeted my crotch with a cloud of powder, followed by the familiarity of a new diaper. “Owen, I heard the toilet flush this morning while you were in the shower. What did you do?” She asked, interrogating deeply with a stern demeanor. I had to think quick, “Oh sorry Mom, I was reaching for my tooth brush and accidentally slipped while putting my hand out.” I said, making just enough eye contact with her. She didn’t look relieved, but I’m sure she bought it. The rest of my school day went uneventfully. I could tell Bryon didn’t want to hear about my thoughts anymore, so we talked about other things, like new-wave podcasts and VR-Talk Shows on the media-stream. I tried to put my mind on other things, but every once in a while, I’d catch myself, eye-ing the waistband of another kid’s diaper, or spot someone else using their diaper in the middle of class. In our last class of the day, I was soaked and needed a change. As usual, I asked the teacher to be attended to, so I left and went to the nurse’s station. That’s what we call it these days, but in reality, it’s 8 changing stalls with tables and privacy panels, and a machine that does all the work. I walked into one of the stalls, laid down on the table, and pressed the button, where the laser guided changer walked through the steps of changing my diaper. First the tapes are removed my 4 pincer-like claws, followed by an arm than pulls back the diaper. Then another arm lays a diaper under me; a small puff of powder is applied to the diaper, then the machine pulls the diaper up, over, and finalizes it by using the first 4 pincers to tape it on completely. All-in-all, it takes about 20 seconds, and puts the students into a thick white diaper. It’s not the best, but it holds enough to last a good 8 hours. More wealthier families have these in their homes, but there’s no way Dad would let us get one. “Hey Owen, what are you doing this weekend?” Bryon asked, as we got to the top of the hill. “I don’t know. Church on Sunday… every Sunday.” I groaned. “Want to spend the night at my house, tonight? My Dad’s out of town again, and I just got the holographic Zombie shooter for the Xbox 2000.” He said, motioning guns with his hands. “Sure, I’ll face-message my Mom, and let her know not to pick me up. Do you have supplies?” I asked. He nodded, we both knew what I mean. Unfortunately, Mom reminded me that I was grounded, sternly scolding me for asking to spend the weekend with a friend, while her hologram-face stared into my soul. Bryon looked away as Mom dug into me, then hung up before saying bye. “Sorry, Bryon.” I shamefully apologized, while he scratched his neck and nodded his head. “I-I understand.” He replied, before his Mom came to pick him up. I waved goodbye, then caught up to my Mom’s self-driving car, which was in pulling up as Bryon’s car left. “I hope you’re soaked today.” Mom said, leering at me as I got in and closed the door. “No, I got changed during the last class.” I said, feeling belittled. Mom pulled me close, then pulled my down pants and unsnapped the onesie, exposing a slightly damp diaper, which I wet while we were waiting at the park. “Good. I also want you to know, that you’re cleaning the bathroom, since someone used the toilet upstairs recently. I don’t know who, but since I’m sure it wasn’t you, right?” She continued her investigation. “No, Mom, it wasn’t me. I swear.” I lied again, trying to look out the window, but she kept glaring at me. For the rest of the night, I did my homework, had dinner, then was dragged along to go see a movie. I knew my parents was punishing me, because they bought me the largest size drink before we went it. I didn’t care for the movie, since it was a romantic comedy, and had terrible B-list actors. Admittedly, I was soaked at the end of it, and ended up leaking down my leg when I waited for my parents to get out of the bathrooms, ironically. Dad changed me in the back seat of the car when we got out of the movies. This is a pretty normal thing to do in public, which isn’t embarrassing, but he had to say loudly, “Quit fidgeting, you’re 13 now, hold still!” while I laid motionless. I made eye contact with a few people who passed by, while they checked to see who the immature kid was. My face was probably a deep red shade. We got home, and I immediately went upstairs so I could be by myself, but my parents didn’t trust me, and instead had me come back downstairs, where we played board games until I could barely keep my head up. Mom and Dad looked at each other as I couldn’t keep my head up, then they walked me upstairs and put me to bed. I figured this was part of the punishment while being grounded. ___
  8. Thanks everyone for the feedback! I really appreciate it! ______ CHAPTER 4 Mom drove me home, and walked inside with me. “Half day today, for me, Owen. Do you need a change?” She questioned, as I walked upstairs. “No, thanks. I’m dry.” I said, continuing upstairs. “Dry? Did you get changed by the nurse before Chemistry?” She continued. “Nope, I didn’t use my diaper today.” I continued, as I made it to the top of the stairs. Mom grew very, very concerned. “Is…. Is everything alright, do you need to see the doctor?” She went on. “No, Mom, I’m fine, I just didn’t use my diaper.” I went on, growing more irate than usual. “Then how did you go to the bathroom?” She asked, her voice beginning to tremble. “I took off my diaper, and peed outside.” I admitted. It shouldn’t be a big deal, decades ago, people never wore diapers, I don’t understand… Mom just about had a aneurysm, and fast-walked upstairs, quickly grabbing me by the back of the neck, and pulled down my pants to reveal the dry diaper that I was wearing. “Dammit Owen!!!” She yelled, and nearly pushed me onto my bed, where she quickly made me lay down, and spanked my bottom until my butt was red and sore. “You do not do that! After all I told you, after what we talked about!” Her voice cracked. I squeaked and shouted as she laid her open hand to my diapered-bottom, until she flipped me back over and laid me still. The heavy spankings left me teary eyed, and had me emotional, which lead to me having an accident anyways, soaking my dry achievement from the day. ______ Mom opened my dresser, took out a fresh diaper, and in a matter of a minute, had me in, not only in a new diaper with a fresh coat of powder, but also in a onesie. “Wait until your father gets home!” She commanded, while she left my room, and went downstairs. I heard her whimpering as I did my homework; my eyes dripped tears onto my tablet. I seriously didn’t think this was such a big deal. A few hours later, Dad came home, and I got severely nervous. Dad is usually more calm than Mom, but when he punishes me, it’s nothing to be thrilled about. I heard him walk through the door, followed by Mom sobbing and explaining everything to him. Dad sighed, took a few minutes, then greeted me upstairs. “What wrong, Owen?” He asked politely. I broke down, as usual, “I just don’t understand why we need them? Why is it so wrong to just go to the bathroom, without diapers?” I managed to summarize in one summary. Dad just exhaled, and told me what he usually does, “You’ll understand when you’re older.” He said, which was followed by him removing all of my electronics from my room. “You made your mother cry, Owen. I can’t let that go unpunished.” He said, empathetically. That somehow made me feel even worse. He continued his charade of grounding me from everything I enjoyed until I was left with my tablet from school. “You know, when I was your age, school was a lot more free than it is now, and I’m sorry you feel that the law is bullshit, but so do so many other people. We all have to do what we’re told.” He said, as he took my monitor away. I felt hopeless… The next day at school, Mom dropped me off without saying a word. I was made sure to be diapered, and walked into school, feeling more humiliated than normal by sporting a onesie under my jeans. Onesies, to us, are outfits for babies and toddlers. If you’re wearing once, you’re seen as immature and youthful, something no one wanted to be seen. Bryon didn’t sorry for me. When I told him, he had no sympathy, and lectured me on my foolishness, “I tried to tell you. It’s a shitty law, but we have to obey it, like it or not.” His words acid to my ears. All throughout the day, it’s all I could think about; everyone except the teacher was wearing a diaper in class. If I needed to pee, I wouldn’t have to leave, but at the same time, neither would anyone else. In a way, it was disgusting, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Two hours into my classes, I relieved myself in my pants, and nobody batted an eye. At lunch, I caught two girls pulling down their shorts to reveal their cool new ‘stylish’ diapers to other classmates; I guess her parents were rich enough to afford top of the line diapers, which somehow made her better than her peers. They were thinner, and less absorbent than other diapers, but the brand-name made it look better. Meanwhile, I was stuck, wearing a onesie over my diaper, keeping it contained and pushed against my skin. Granted, no one could see it, but it felt like I was 5 again. After school, Bryon and I walked through the school grounds, and caught three kids messing their diapers in between the cement halls, presumably before they went to change at the nurse’s station. I guess to a certain extent, diapers are the ultimate freedom, since you’re free from having to use the bathrooms, which were condemned for 3 years at our school before the law passed, due to terribly poor hygienic conditions. “So that means you’re done with the whole ‘diapers are bad, stop using them’ thing, right?” Bryon asked while we waited by the chainlink fence for our parents to drive up to. I sighed, “I guess for now.” I said. “Good, I didn’t want to be friends with a conspiracy freak.” Bryon said, mispronouncing ‘conspiracy’. “I guess… It’s a fucked up law, but if it’s that enforced and that troubling to my parents, then I probably shouldn’t challenge it.” I said, feeling defeated. “I’ll say…” He replied, before his Mom showed to pick him up. Mom picked me up shortly after, and acted like nothing ever happened. “How was school today?”. I sighed, “Fine, I guess. Exam in History, but I’m sure I did fine.” I continued, feeling exhausted with everything. “Good!” She said, as I closed the door to her self-driving car.
  9. CHAPTER 3 After having my diaper changed, Mom sent me to bed, turning out my light, and leaving my door open. She never once checked my chair, but I assumed I covered it up fine enough. I guess I didn’t leak enough to really make an impact. I got into bed, took off my shirt, then went to sleep, anxious to see Bryon again, and tell him what I think. … The next morning, I woke up earlier than normal. I was wet, which isn’t unusual, but my thoughts returned to me from the night before, and questioned why. ‘Did teens from the 1990s wet the bed in their sleep and have to wear diapers?’ I wondered while I took a shower. Mom came in and put me in a new diaper, then left while I got fully dressed. After a small breakfast, she drove me to school, then left for work. “Bryon!” I called out to my obviously tired friend, who walked into school sporting dark rings around his eyes. “What’s up, Owen?” He said, managing to work up a bare smile. “So I was thinking about our conversation yesterday, and I talked to my parents. Even though they think it’s illegal for me to not be confined to diapers, I’m sure I could get away with it.” I hushed my voice a bit. “It is illegal, Owen. Are you still on that? I thought you were just ranting because you were being grouchy.” He said. “No! I wasn’t grouchy! Think about it! Why do we all need to wear diapers? Last night, I used my diaper to mess, and it was gross, and disgusting and humiliating! Do you really want to subject your parents to that?” I ranted onward, as Bryon’s smile slowly faded into a frown. “Look around, Owen.” He slowly said, pointing outward and circling 360º, “Everyone here uses diapers. Everyone here gets changed by someone or something, and everyone here accepts it, and deals with it. You’re the only person I’ve met, who actually thinks like that.” He argued. “Because I’m the only one that pays attention!” I stammered. “No, because you’re the only one who thinks outside the box. And that’s fine, really it is. But if so many people are benefitting from it, why is it such a problem? Are you still wearing a diaper now?” He, again, skeptically turned on me. “N-no!” I announced, trying to both lie, and sound proud at the same time. Bryon didn’t look enthused, and quickly, yanked on my pants, pulling them down to my knees. Not a single soul turned to look. “C’mon, Owen. Stop this.” He said, while I pulled up my jeans. “No, you stop this! Is everyone seriously this brainwashed?” I continued to argue. “My Mom kept me up until 2 in the morning last night, telling me that if I failed the exam from yesterday, she’s going to ‘knock me back to 2010’. We all have more important concerns, Owen. Can you please, and for the last time, please, drop it?” He pleaded, sounding desperate to change the subject. “Fine….” I gave in, “But I’m going to stay dry for the entire day, just to prove a point.” I conceded. “Whatever works.” He said, loosing all faith. But I wasn’t swayed. I had a point to prove. Three hours later, by the Fourth class, I was a bit worried about keeping my word. I could feel that I had to go, but my pride was too much. “Mr. Thompson, may I see the nurse?” I called to my English teacher, who was half way into his lecture on ironic symbolism in film and television. He nodded, and let me leave the room. There was an itch in my bladder, I could feel I had to pee, but I was afraid my incontinence would give in. I walked out of the classroom, and made my way between the buildings, to the abandoned classrooms above the football field. I knew if no one saw me, I’d have nothing to hide. I looked around, checked my surroundings, and didn’t see anyone, or any drone-surveillance cameras flying about; the coast was clear. I pulled down my pants half-way, and quickly untaped my diaper onto my jeans, exposing my genitals to the brick wall behind me, The air was cool and freeing to my body, which was an other-worldly feeling. I stared ahead at the brick wall, and tried to imagine myself peeing. Waterfalls, flowing rivers, dripping water, anything to get me going. It took a second, but after a minute, I released the finest yellow stream I’ve ever seen. The wall in front of me turned a darker shade of beige, as I sprayed it with a dose of pee. It was a small flow that lasted about 10 seconds, until my stream was reduced to drips, softly dampening my dry diaper that lasted me through the day. When I was done, I quickly re-taped on my diaper, and turned around to walk back. As I headed back from the bungalows, a security officer caught me by the arm, “Where were you going?” He asked, suspiciously, knowing i just came from the abandoned bungalows. “Uhhh….” I had to think quick, “My Mom called me in class, and I wanted to take the call somewhere secluded.” I said, pointing at my smart-watch. “Why’d you walk so far away?” He asked, less threateningly. “Because she was in the city, and it was hard to concentrate.” I lied more. He let go of my arm, then followed me back to class. I lasted through the next 6 hours of school, then was let out after Chemistry, where Bryon and I walked back to our parent’s cars. “I did it, Bryon.” I said, pulling him aside from all the other students. “Did what?” He asked, his brow starting to lower, as he realized what he got himself into. “I’m still dry!” I said, with enthusiasm, as I lowered my jeans, revealing a bright white, dry diaper. His eyes grew wide, and he pulled me toward the fence, blocking me from the other students. “Pull your pants up!” He looked around, and told me, authoritatively. I did as he asked, “Why?” I asked. “You can’t do that in public! After what you’ve told me! I’m pretty much an accessory!” He said with great paranoia. “It’s fine, no one’s gonna find out.” I smirked. “No, Owen, you don’t understand…. Never mind, tell your parents, they’ll understand.” He said, as he continued walking. “Wait, Bryon” I called out for him. “What do you mean?” I grew worried, catching up to him. “No, just… ask your parents.” He insisted, not even wanting to look at me. “How is this a crime?” I pestered him. “Look….” The 15 year old said, pulling me into the small patch of land, filled with trees, away from the sidewalk. We got a bit into the trees, before he looked around, pulled down his shorts, and revealed a very wet diaper, “See how much I went today? If my parents found out I didn’t use my diapers, they’d send me away to the military! Seriously, stop.” He continued, growing serious. “So you don’t like to wear diapers?” I egged him on. He angrily pulled up his shorts, and continued walking away. “I’m serious, Bryon!” I said, but he was silent. He got into his Mom’s car and drove away. I take it, he was serious…. ------
  10. Continuing ___ CHAPTER 2 Crap! I’d gone without a diaper for nearly three hours, and already I had an accident. I checked the time and saw that my parents would be home in 20 minutes. Quickly, I threw my pants into the dirty hamper, then put on a diaper as fast as I could. My chair was saturated in urine; the smell of it would definitely be suspicious if my Mom came into my room… and I wouldn’t even want to think if Dad came in. In a flash, I came up with a great idea! What if I threw the powder onto the chair and helped soak up some of it, while getting rid of the smell? Yes! After I wiped myself down, powdered my crotch, and put on a diaper, I took a handful of the bright white powder, and sprinkled it onto my chair. Then I took a towel and dabbed it on the cushion to help soak up what was left. While I got some pee out of it, I ended up making my black cushion look spotty with powder. That would have to do for now. They’re going to be home any second. “Owen, we’re home!” Dad said, walking through the garage door, catching me a tad off guard while I tried to wipe away the spottiness from my chair. “Hi Dad.” I yelled from upstairs while they slammed the garage door like they usually did. I then walked downstairs to greet them in the kitchen. “How was your day?” Mom asked me, as I walked through the threshold from the living room. “Oh, good. Had a chemistry test, but not too much else.” I answered mildly. “Oh good. Dinner should be arriving in a few minutes. Dad said, while he hung around in the kitchen, going through his watch to make sure he didn’t miss any notifications. “… Owen, psychology of colors is a lot different in terms of what the client wants to see, versus what the customer thinks, you know? It’s kind of a long ordeal at work.” My Dad said with a mouthful of food. While we were sitting down and having organic beef. “Ah.” I tried to sound interested, before I took another mouthful. Dad works for a major marketing company, and seems to have endless stories of topics way beyond my thinking. “So, I was wondering…” I began, trying not to seem embarrassed, bringing up my thoughts. “What is it, honey?” Mom asked, seeming a bit concerned. I tried to scale it down, “Do you know if they sell pull-ups?” I asked, working my way up my thought process. “Pull-Ups?” Dad asked. “You know… like, pull-on diapers?” I continued, my face turning a bit red. “I mean, I think… for adults, and elderly people. But you’re way too young for that.” Mom said, taking another bite. “I’d like some, soon. I was wondering if I could try not wearing diapers for a little while.” I said, looking down. I didn’t want to see their reactions, and I was too embarrassed. Dad cleared his through, and Mom went silent for a second. “Owen, you can’t do that. That’s against the law.” He said. “Yeah, but… Why?” I asked. The air was void of any sound, while they thought about what I just said. “We don’t make the law, Owen…. It’s just…. the law. Diapers are good for you, like vegetables. Why don’t you try some?” Mom said, handing me a bowl of potatoes. I scowled a little, then thought about dropping the subject. “But what if?-“ I began, before Dad interrupted me. “No buts, eat!” He said, ending my thought-process entirely. After dinner, I walked back upstairs while Mom and Dad talked amongst themselves, presumably about what I just said. They cleared the table, then bagged up the food-packaging for recycling the next day. “That’s dangerous thinking…” was all I heard, before their voices became muffled upstairs. If anything, it was good to know what side they stood on. An hour or so after I had my short discussion at dinner, I got the urge to poop, as I always did. It was in the middle of my VR-gaming session, and there was no way I was going to attempt any funny-business now, especially with Mom and Dad on the hook about my recent thoughts. Granted, I was in the middle of gaming, so I did what I always did. I ran into a corner of the video game’s map, hid from other players, muted my microphone, and took a short break so I could crouch and mess. The familiar method of going in my diaper took over, as I grunted, pushed a little, and let go of my defecation. With a short spurt of pee, I finished going to the bathroom, and continued my game, turning back on my microphone. No more than 15 minutes later, the smell caught my olfactory senses, and I knew that I was in need of a change. I said my goodbyes to my server-friends, and went to let my parents know I needed a change. I walked over to the bannister, and said I needed a change to my parents downstairs, who were watching the daily media-stream. Dad put the projection on hold, while Mom walked upstairs to take care of business. When she got up the stairs, she motioned me to walk into the changing room, where the changing table was, and the family computer room existed. “You know, Owen, I wish I could agree with you, and I’m sure you’ll do fine when you’re older, but it is what it is.” She said, while she wiped down my behind. “Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to do this.” I said, as I cowardly wretched from both the smell, and the cold wipe. “Imagine a world, where I could wipe my own butt.” I tried to coax her. “It’s not like it matters to me, I’ve been doing it since you were born. What matters is the law. I told you about my sister, who potty-trained your cousin, right?” She asked, while she got out the powder, and began to sprinkle me with it. “No? Tell me.” I asked, scratching at the wall to my left. “Owen, don’t do that! Well, your Aunt sent your cousin, Nathan, to school when he was 9, without a diaper, and she was investigated by the CPA for nearly a year. She was taken to jail for a week, and had to pay a very hefty fine! I wouldn’t want that to happen to me. Plus, you always look adorable when you wear these.” She confessed, finalizing my diaper change by pulling up the thick white plastic diaper. I didn’t understand why that had to be. “I’m serious, Owen, the fines are a lot stricter, and they’re starting to imprison parents of diaper-less kids. You wouldn’t want to live with Grandma for the next 4 years, just because you thought differently, would you?” She asked, putting me in a hard place. “…No…” I said, thinking about how well I had it. “And I know I wouldn’t want to be in jail. So please, keep your diapers on.” She pleaded, as she helped me back up, her height towering over me, even though I was 5’ 4”. I nodded my head, and promised I would. That sounds terrible, that wasn’t in the research I did…. ___
  11. So, I guess I used the term wrong, and now I'm a bit confused about what "diaper dimension" stories are? I thought they were stories, where wearing diapers were mainstream; sort of an alternate universe? Clearly, I'm wrong, something to do with the amazon? lol
  12. Sorry, I edited the tags. Wasn't sure what that term meant
  13. Hey everyone, so after reading the thread about "What if Diapers became Mainstream", as well as @omo90210 's story, "Potty Law", I came up with a good writing prompt to start a new story. I hope you like it! Be sure to check out @omo90210 and his story as well, since this story kinda takes place in the same time-line as theirs. I edited the tags as well. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 1 The year is 2065. A hundred years ago, the 1960s flourished with psychedelic music, and a counter-culture era toward a free society of arts and music. I can only assume it was glorious, and I definitely would’ve loved to have experienced that first hand. These days are a lot more different, so I can assume. My name’s Owen. I was born on October 10, 2050; the Semi-centennial year, marking 50 years after the turn of the millennium. That makes me 14, so I’m just starting high school. These days are a lot different from the past. About two decades ago, the government passed a law, mandating all kids to stay in diapers until age 18; I read about that in history class. Even most people after age 18 are stuck in diapers until they learn to use the toilet, and some don’t at all. It’s affected everything; the way nurses have to handle rashes, disposal and changing tables in schools, sales and marketing, and especially the social aspect. I guess that’s where my story comes in. I’m a bit different, I always thought it was weird. I don’t understand what the big deal is with diapers. It was about 6 months ago, in October, I was in school, waiting to take our Chemistry Exam. I was sweating a bit, and the air was a tad rancid with the smell of urine and baby powder. The teacher had to run into the hallway to send the exam through the router, when I tapped on the side of my arm by my friend, Bryon. “Hey, did you study?” He asked, whispering to me. “A little before class, did you?” I replied. “No, not at all. If I fail this test, I’m going to freak out.” He said, shaking a little. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do fine.” I confided in him, until our teacher walked back in and began handing out tests. The class remained silent for the duration of the test, I paid close attention to the questions, and made sure all of my answers were checked off on my tablet. Halfway through, I felt the slight need to pee, but wasn’t fazed for a second, when my bladder emptied itself into my diaper; it’s become second nature now. I continued with the test, and finished it after maybe 45 minutes, finalizing my answers by hitting “Submit to Teacher”, sending her the information. The rest of the class continued working, until the last person finished a few minutes before the chime rang, ending our last class for the day. “How do you think you did?” I asked Bryon while we left class together. “I don’t know, Owen, I just made sure I answered everything as best as I could.” He replied, adjusting the straps on his backpack, “What about you, Mr. Straight-A’s? How do you think you did?” He asked, shining a huge smirk at me. “Gee, I don’t know…” I began, before a leering glance beamed from Bryon, “I mean… I don’t? I got… a bit distracted when I felt like I had to pee.” I lied. I was sure I aced the exam. “Pfft, please… Mr. Know-It-All-Owen over here, you’re wearing a diaper. You can actually feel when you have to pee?” Bryon skeptically smirked, catching me in a lie. “Uhh… kinda. I can definitely feel when I go, but I can also feel when I’m about to. I don’t want to live in diapers forever.” I joked. “You probably won’t with your brains, but who would want to live without diapers? Could you imagine when people actually had to… stop what they were doing, or wait, to use the bathroom?” Bryon went on. “Yes, people did that for centuries! People these days are so backwards! What were they thinking when they passed that law?” I went off on Bryon. He just shrugged. “I don’t know, Owen. It seems a lot nicer. A lot more convenient, and sanitary, that’s for sure. I mean, I get that we’re exposing our skin, and all that, but did you know hospitals used to inject people with poison when they had cancer?” He asked, as we left the school ground and went to get picked up by our parents. “I did. That doesn’t make it right, though, I’m just sayin’.” I continued, steaming from the topic of diapers. Something about it just doesn’t make sense to me… Mom dropped me off at home, then left to finish her 14 hour shift at the hospital. As usual, I closed the front door and went up to my room. I removed my pants, then set my backpack on my bed, digging out my tablet to go over the notes for tomorrow, and take down additional notes on my personal computer. I usually did my homework the second I got home from school, so I could spend time with my parents when they got off work. After an hour of taking notes, and studying for the next day, I put my tablet back in my backpack and noticed my diaper was sagging to the maximum level recommended by my parents. I took out another from my drawer, opened it up and laid it on my bed. From there, I ripped off the tapes, and felt the cool air surround my crotch. I wiped myself clean with the alcohol-prepped sanitary wipes my Mom has been using on me since I was born; I guess it’s supposed to keep my ‘area’ from catching infections and what-not. I laid down on my bed, and positioned the diaper under me, when I remembered my conversation from today; why do we wear diapers? For a silly law? Are we crazy? I let go of the diaper’s front and set it back down. ‘No! I’m done with diapers.’ I thought. I stood back up, folded and put the diaper back into my dresser, then put my pants back on. I’m not going to conform to society’s norms. I don’t care if it’s a law. I’m done. I continued to feel heated over the whole thing. Granted, I’ve thought about this for a few weeks now, but Bryon’s argument really got motivated to make a change for the better! I got back onto the world wide server, and went about searching across the millions of pages about anti-diaper families and anti-government propaganda. The world-wide server had tons of individual links to different social movements going against the ‘diapering’ as the mainstream-server called it. Pages upon pages flashed into my head; ‘We’re Toilet-Trained and Proud!’, ‘Diapers are for Cowards!’, ‘I Remember Diapers symbolizing Weakness’, and more articles came to my search history. I was really liking what they had to say; how diapers shouldn’t be regulated by the government, and how diapers shouldn’t be a mandated tax to people over the age-restriction. Since the law went into affect in 2031, social movements have gone mainstream into trying to fight it, but apparently our New Government has kept silent about these organizations. On the flip side, only 11% of voters opposed the law, while 89% voted for it. I was a bit horrified when I saw the numbers. The more I researched the law, the more I felt sick. For over three decades now, the law has been in effect, and the results on the law turned up very positive; three-decades worth of better concentration in school for students, renowned donations and government grants to fund higher-education and better education to more schools, decreased criminal by minors across the US, and decreased poverty by the government funding diapers. I was intrigued by my research and findings, and pulled out my phone to text my friend all about my research, until I looked down, and saw that my chair was wet. ---
  14. I'd hate it. I'd go against the mainstream, despising the norm of wearing diapers, but secretly enjoy it myself. I'd also call myself a hipster for wanting to wear diapers before everyone else. "Pssh, I was wearing diapers long before it was cool."
  15. Grew up on cable. Nickelodeon was prominent in my family. Disney was too 'girly' and kid-ish for me. Cartoon Network was a treat growing up, since only my mom had it, as she had comcast, while my Dad only had cable, until around 2009. I grew up on shows like Angry Beavers, Fairly Odd Parents, Cat-Dog, Rocko's Modern Life, Hey Arnold. They heydays of Nicktoons in the late 90s, early 2000s.