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Radio Diapers Fiction by Angela Bauer, as told to her A message from Angela On 29 February 2020 the talented author shared with us here in DD the beginning of his story ME AND MOM. Long ago my loving husband also was active here on DD. He never resigned, but the stopped posting. He asked me to tell him when I see a story I think will interest him. I felt sure he would enjoy ME AND MOM. Last Friday morning before I left for my law office I left my husband a note that Les Lea had posted Part 3. During my lunch that day my husband left me a message that ME AND MOM jogged his memories of a childhood as a radio actor. He was dictating all that. What follows is the transcription of this, with minor editing. We both hope readers enjoy. Chapter 1 Starting in September 1936, when I was 4, I was an actor on New York City network radio for ten years. This was before television took over. For me those were very good times. One day when I was in pre-school I was reading a story to fellow students when a woman I did not know walked into the room. She stopped to listen, sometimes turning her back to me. At the end of that day I was surprised that my Granny had accompanied my nanny to walk me the few blocks to the loft apartment I shared with my parents. As we walked, Granny told me I had the chance to be on Radio. I replied, “But I’m not allowed to touch the radio!” “No, silly boy, nice people want you to go to a radio studio and talk on the radio,” Granny said. “Tomorrow I’m taking you to the radio studio.” When we came to Granny’s apartment building she left us. Nanny walked me the half block to our building. I had finished my dinner when my folks got home. Mom told me that the woman who had listened to me reading had become her friend at Vassar: “Donny, you be extra polite and obey her instructions. If I get any hint you acted up you’ll get the spanking of your life. There will be no mistake about that!” Nobody had even smacked me at the time. I had never been threatened with spanking. After Mom finished talking to me, Nanny got me ready for bed. Perhaps because I was 4, I should have been embarrassed. Maybe I was not the only boy my age who was still diapered for bed. My memory was vague about details before I turned 4. Somehow I remember going to bed without a diaper, but I also remember being diapered on trains and when Dad drove us across the Hudson River, through the Holland Tunnel, to visit relatives. That fall I was going to a new school. None of the other students knew I often wet my bedtime diapers. The next morning Nanny removed my wet diaper before she bathed me and dried me. I expected to be dressed in shorts, shirt, tie and jacket. All that came later. When I was dry there already was a diaper spread out on the changing table. Probably the normal reaction should have been disappointment or even resentment. Frankly I felt relieved, because if I wet my diaper I would not be scolded. Often I did not wet while awake when diapered. Nanny had selected a pair of shorts I usually wore on car trips which were large enough my diaper and PlayTex pants did not show. Granny came to our loft. Nanny and I would go to the radio studio with Granny. I confessed about Mom threatening to spank me if I was not on my best behavior at the studio. “Silly Boy, if you embarrass me at the radio studio, I’ll spank you in front of everyone. Be on your best behavior!” Granny commanded. Quite a few times previously Granny had mentioned spanking all 5 of her own children, including my mom. Nanny carried the same diaper bag as went with me on trips. At the radio studio I recognized the lady who had listened to me reading at school. There were several other adults around. I was given a sheet of typed words to read. It was clear to me that the adults approved. One thing was clear the woman who had first seen me, Mrs. Virginia Woodhouse, was in charge at the studio. She asked me to read using the youngest voice I had. I pretended to be a friend from my previous school. That performance delighted all the adults. Granny was asked to bring me back to the studio to rehearse for my first radio play the next day. Mrs. Woodhouse told me clearly and directly that there would be a few other child actors in the radio play. She asked if it bothered me to be wearing a diaper. I told her that I wore diapers during trips and that I understood the reason. Then Mrs. Woodhouse got more serious. She said that it was vital that nobody fool around, be silly or misbehave at the studio: “The adults know I will fire them if they are not professional. Children know that the guardian, such as your grandmother or nanny, will be instructed to spank very hard to punish misbehavior. Do you understand?” Knowing I would not misbehave I told her I understood. Before leaving the studio Mrs. Woodhouse’s assistant showed us what she called a ‘green room’ which was equipped with a changing table. Nanny used that to check my diaper. Although I had not wet Nanny changed me as Granny and the assistant watched. This did not embarrass me. That clearly pleased the assistant. Chapter 2 The following day I was brought back to a radio studio by Granny and Nanny. That time they handed me a script. I was starting to read the script when Nanny told me to use the toilet in the green room. Meanwhile she spread-out a diaper on the changing table. When I finished on the toilet I removed my shoes, trousers and underpants. Nanny helped me onto the changing table. She only applied a little baby lotion before pinning my diaper snuggly. Then she pulled on a pair of PlayTex latex baby pants. I was helped off the table so I could redress. I remembered my slacks were very snug. Granny noticed and said, “On the way home we’ll stop to buy you a pair of trousers large enough to fit over your diaper.” Everyone in the cast held scripts. We each read our lines. The director would stop sometimes and ask us to say a line differently. Then we performed to show again as a rehearsal. That ended an hour before the first broadcast for the East Coast. During the wait I asked to use the toilet. I undressed again. Nanny removed my PlayTex baby pants and diaper. I peed into the toilet. Nanny told Granny that my diaper was still dry. Granny told her she might as well re-use it. Finally I redressed. The show was a half-hour. We all were told to be back in time for a second performance three hours after the first performance. That second performance was for the West Coast, which came as a surprise to Granny, Nanny and me. It turned out until the late 1940’s it was not allowed to play a recording of the show for the West Coast. At least I was paid for the rehearsal and both performances. Since there was a large department store just across the street from the radio studio, Granny decided we would leave me diapered and buy me larger trousers. A producer phoned the store to expect us and to expedite fitting my trousers. Those would be altered by the time the West Coast performance ended. We started back to the studio with time to spare. Unfortunately as we crossed the street I could not help wetting my diaper. When we reached the green room there was no time to change my diaper. Strangely I did not mind performing in a wet diaper. In fact I wet during the performance, fortunately while waiting for my next line. Apparently nobody noticed that I was wet. Previously I had expected to go home without a diaper. As soon as we could return to the green room, as I was undressing Granny told Nanny to clean me and re-diaper me for the trip home, by way of the store. Much to my surprise I did not mind my wet diaper. To me it was comforting. I did not remember wearing a wet diaper. At home when Mother was told about my wetting, she instructed Nanny to diaper me for bed. Nanny asked, “Ma’am, should I give him a spanking before I diaper him for bed?” I know the possibility of me being spanked for misbehavior at the radio studio had been mentioned, but I did not remember actually getting spanked. Mother took her time thinking. Finally she told Nanny, “No, don’t spank him, this time. If he is wet in the morning, diaper him for school!” Although I had never been diapered at that school, Granny had told me I had been diapered at previous toddler schools. When Nanny walked me the few blocks to school the next morning she carried my diaper bag. While we were walking Mother had phoned the school. A teaching assistant accepted my diaper bag and assured Nanny that my diaper would be checked and changed as needed. About an hour after class started I asked to use the toilet. My teacher replied, “That is good to know, but today you are wearing your toilet. After you are wet you’ll be changed.” That seemed fair, since over half of my classmates were still in diapers. That was the reason for the teaching assistant. During the day I was changed following lunch and again just before Nanny came to walk me home. She was told about both of my diaper changes. It came as a surprise, when we did get home, that a changing table for older children, like the one at the radio studio, had been installed in my room. I asked to use the toilet. Nanny told me to undress. She put me on the table to remove my diaper, which was still dry. After I did pee significantly into the toilet and wiped myself, Nanny cleaned me again. Then she lotioned me and re-used the diaper. Just before dinner I asked to use the toilet. Mother said, “Since you will be diapered for bed, you need not ask to use the toilet. By the way, they liked your performance so much that tomorrow you have another radio job. You’ll be in diapers all day!” Mother was not scolding. I actually felt happy. My diapers were not uncomfortable. I was not teased, scolded or spanked for wetting. I had trousers which fit over my diapers. I would not be discomforted hold back my pee. All things considered, for me being diapered was a good thing. Chapter 3 Time went on. Soon I was working on radio two or more days a week. My school told my parents that while I was still in nursery they had no problem with my attendance, but if my radio career was going to continue I would need to go to a school for professional child performers. The Professional Children’s School (PCS) was in an office building convenient to Broadway theaters and the network radio studios. Before my nursery school term ended I was tested. My parents agreed that I would skip Kindergarten and start First Grade in the fall of 1937. PCS realized that youngsters on Broadway and network radio always were diapered when rehearsing and performing. Therefore PCS had several teaching assistants to change diapers as needed. Occasionally I did sometimes wake up dry two days in a row. If I did not have an early audition or rehearsal I would go to school un-diapered. Before I left school for a job I would de diapered by the time Granny and Nanny arrived. A supply of my diapers and PlayTex baby pants was kept at school. Shortly before I started attending PCS, Mother told me she had signed a permission form authorizing them to spank me when they felt I needed punishment. A few days later I watched in a green room as a woman spanked a girl taller than me. The girl cried a lot. Then she was diapered. I admit to being fascinated. After we finished the East Coast performance I told Granny that while I was terrified about getting spanked, I was also curious. Granny turned to Nanny, asking, “Which of us should spank Donny first?” Nanny replied, “Mrs. Harris, I think you should go first. He is a scamp so I dare say I will need to spank him frequently.” That same girl and her mother watched as Nanny removed my diaper. Granny placed me bare-bottom over her lap and spanked me with her hand until I was blubbering far more than had the girl. Before we started the West Coast performance I had wet enough I needed a diaper change. When we got home Nanny told Mother about my spanking from Granny. Her reaction was to instruct Nanny, “Tomorrow take Donny to a store and buy him a proper spanking hairbrush! If my mother does not know of the right store just ask Mrs. Woodhouse!” In fact Granny did take us to our local drug store which had a selection of hairbrushes. She bought one for my diaper bag and one for her own purse. Although Nanny did spank me a few times for misbehaving at home, and I got spanked at PCS, I did not get another spanking in a green room. A few days before First Grade ended in May 1938, Mother told me that Mrs. Woodhouse would be joining us for dinner that evening. The radio program I did that day was produced by a different advertising agency. At dinner Mrs. Woodhouse introduced me to her son Joel. He turned out to be a year older than me, but had not skipped a grade. Joel would be attending PCS that fall for Second Grade. Granny was going to be Joel’s agent. After we finished dinner Nanny took me to my room for a diaper change. As soon as I was un-diapered I used the toilet to poop. I wiped, but Nanny never-the-less wiped me again before she diapered me. The surprise came as my PlayTex baby pants were being pulled up when the tall and mature-looking Joel was led by his hand, like a toddler, by Mrs. Woodhouse. She undressed him, revealing a soaked diaper which reeked of poop. She was carrying a discreet diaper bag I had assumed was a large purse. Joel climbed up without assistance. His mother removed it, and then used a couple of wash rags to thoroughly clean him. He was double diapered. She changed his PlayTex pants. I could not help noticing inside Joel’s diaper bag there were two baby bottles in pockets, as well as a heavy hairbrush. We returned to the living room, where Mrs. Woodhouse sat at one end of the couch. Joel snuggled with his head on her lap. Soon after Joel was comfortable, Nanny brought Mrs. Woodhouse both a large bib and a warmed baby bottle of milk. She tied the bib around Joel’s neck and held the baby bottle while he suckled it like an infant. His expression was beatific. Once he finished his bottle, Mrs. Woodhouse burped him, and then handed the baby bottle and bib back to Nanny. Mrs. Woodhouse told mother, “Kate, Joel has never had a dry night, nor has he ever given up the bottle.” “Donny has only had a few nights without a diaper, but he has not asked for a bottle,” Mother responded. I noticed that when Joel was working in radio, his mother was producing the show. Granny would be serving as agent for us both. My Nanny would deal with changing our diapers. That worked out because DyDee Service supplied Joel’s and my diapers. That year I did at least 3 radio shows a week, while Joel only booked a show every couple of weeks. I also noticed that he was naughty enough he got spanked most times he was on the air. Usually his mother administered Joel’s spankings, but if she was very busy producing she asked Nanny to spank Joel with a hairbrush until he sobbed like an infant. After New Year’s Day of 1940 I stopped wetting during the day. The only time I wore a diaper to school was when I had a radio job with no time to be changed at the studio. For months I did not wet at a radio studio. One afternoon a producer who often hired me told Granny, “We realize Donny is still young, but we have decided to bend the rules for him. Don no longer is required to be diapered while performing.” Granny responded, “Thank you. Today Donny is already diapered, so let’s keep him like that. We’ll play it by ear from now on.” I’m not sure if they realized I could hear their conversation. That threw me into panic! I was actively afraid that once Mother knew I no longer was required to be diapered while working I would be subjected to another bout of toilet training to keep me dry at night and on trips. By then I considered my diapers both functional and comforting. I was afraid that if I relapsed to bedwetting I would be scolded and spanked. I admit toward the end of the East Coast broadcast I deliberately wet my diaper. As soon as the director signaled we were off the air I told Nanny that I had wet. When it was too late to change before the West Coast broadcast I deliberately wet again. This I had to perform that broadcast in a wet diaper. The downside was that as soon as we got home I was ordered to bring the hairbrush to Nanny. She spanked me so hard I had bruises. It was worth it, because I was diapered nearly all the time until PlayTex baby pants went out of production in early 1942, when I was nine years old.

“Kayee, go take a seat while I check you in.” The nine year old girl nodded and made a dash for a pair of seats tucked away in the corner away from the others. She looked around the psych’s office glumly. Generic landscape pictures hung on the white walls, and the floors were covered with fake wooden planks instead of carpet. There was a table in the center of the room covered in People magazine’s and issues of Web Md’s. It wasn’t as child friendly as her normal doctors office, whose toy basket overflowed with germ ridden teddy bears and outdated hard cover I SPY books. This was a different kind of doctors office. This doctors office was for crazy people. Her head twitched as she wondered what they were going to do to her in there. “Hi, we have a 10 o’clock to see Dr. Marzan.” Kaylee heard her mom say at the front counter. “That’ll be a $60 co-pay.” The receptionist said back. Kaylee’s stomach dropped a little. Sixty bucks? Was that how much it cost her mom every time she took her to the doctor? She had been to the doctor a lot recently. Kaylee tried to do the math, but quickly gave up. Her head jerked violently to the side as she punched the air in front of her. The door opened and in walked a mother and a boy she guessed around five. She let out a bark followed by a high pitched whine. Kaylee saw the receptionist look up at her, before she looked away. “You nervous?” Her mom asked as she took a seat next to her. “A little,” Kaylee admitted. She grimaced before the muscles in her face finally relaxed. “IT’S TUESDAY!” She felt all eyes on her. What a stupid thing to yell. It was Friday. “Oh, is it Tuesday now?” Her mom said. “Bummer, I had been looking forward to the weekend.” “WEEKEND WEEKEND!” Kaylee yelled. “FUCK OFF! FUCK OFF! FUCK OFF!” She could feel her mom tense beside her. “You are nervous.” Her mom stated matter of factly. “Mrs. Shepard,” a voice called. Her mom stood and beckoned Kaylee to follow, but an elderly man held up a hand to stop her. “I want to have a minute with your mom alone for a few minutes. How about you wait there and I’ll come call you when I’m ready for you.” Doctor Marzan said. Kaylee gulped. She didn’t like being alone in public. “Here, “ Her mom said handing her something out of her purse. Kaylee’s heart soared as she took the red and black case. “Play with that until it’s time for you to come in.” Kaylee eager bounded back to her seat, all anxiety of being in the public eye long forgotten as she undid the zipper to reveal her Nintendo Switch. Oh, I’ve missed you! Kaylee thought as she turned it on. She had gotten it taken away last week when her mom had been called to the principal's office to come pick her up. She hadn’t been in school since. She didn’t mind; she hated it there. “SHUT UP!” Kaylee yelled into the quiet office as she tried to remember what she had been previously working on in Mario Odyssey. After only ten minutes of smashing through brick walls as a T-rex she felt the urge to shake her arm out. She tried her best to ignore it, but before she could stop herself, she let go of the Switch as she flapped her arm up and down. Kaylee let out a gasp as she helplessly watched her game tumble to the hardwood floor. She shot down out of her seat and scooped it up off the floor. There, impossible to ignore, was a big crack across the screen. “No!” she whimpered. Her mom had specifically told her she wouldn’t buy her another if she ever broke it. She had only had it for three months! She hit the power button, relieved to see it come back on. She’d be in trouble for sure, but at least it still worked. She let out a loud series of barks as her neck twisted to the side. “Mommy, why’s that girl barking?” The boy from earlier asked loud enough for Kaylee to hear. She could hear his mother quickly hush him. “FUCK OFF! SHUT YOUR FAT ASS!” Kaylee yelled looking down at the screen. She gulped. She hadn’t meant to say it. “Do not talk to my son that way!” the mother snapped. Kaylee looked up to see the lady glaring daggers at her. “I’m telling your mother you said that when she comes back out here!” Kaylee’s heart dropped. “I-I didn’t mean too!” She tried to say “I have turnips!” She could feel her eyes begin to burn. It was like school all over again. Her face twisted into a snarl and she let out another quick succession of barks. Her hand shot up and punched herself in the face. “David, let’s move.” the other lady said. She grabbed her sons wrist and pulled him as far away from Kaylee as she could get. She dropped her voice, but Kaylee could still here her say, “She’s obviously not all there.” Tears pricked her eyes as her vision began to blur. Her hands shot up, her neck craned as she yelled. “PEANUT BUTTER!” She hated being in public alone. “Kaylee, we’re ready for you. “ Her mom called. Kaylee looked up, tears still streaming her cheeks. “What’s wro-” Her mom begun to ask before stopping and spying the cracked device clutched in her daughter’s hands. “I told you to be careful with that!” her mom said in a disgusted tone. Kaylee shrunk back. She let out several barks, shook her head from side to side, and her body pushed. “No!” Kaylee thought, suddenly frozen. Not again! She could feel warm liquid beginning to pool under her. Her body stopped pushing and she frantically clutched herself to stop the leaking. Her mom threw her hands in the air and let out a grunt of exasperation.“See this is what I was talking about!” She half yelled to the doctor. “She pees herself almost every time she gets in trouble!” Kaylee’s face burned. Did she have to say it in front of everyone? Doctor Marzan pushed his hands out and lowered them gently down as a signal to calm down. “Let me talk with her alone.” Kaylee sniffled and wiped her runny nose down her arm as she waddled down the hall in semi wet pants. Once they were in the back, he led her to the bathroom so she could finish peeing and clean herself up. She threw her wet underwear in the trash can and scrubbed at her pants with a wet paper towel. Once she re-emerged, she followed the Dr to a room and took a seat across from his desk. “So your mom tells me you’ve been getting in some trouble at school.” He said. Kaylee nodded. Her left eye twitched. “You want to tell me in your own words what happened?” “I kicked this guy Jake in the nuts.” She mumbled. “And why did you do that?” “He was making fun of my turnips, him and his friends.” She admitted. “Turnips?” “The noises I make and all the… “she waved her hands in the air for emphasis. “Oh, the tourette's. I see” “Yeah, that thing. I always get the name wrong.” she said with a shrug. Her arm jerked out to the side. “So what kinds of things do they say to you?” he asked as he took notes. She shrugged. “They copy me, call me a freak. Tell me I need to be in the retard class.” “Do your teachers know they do this?” “Yeah, but she doesn’t care. She usually just sends me to the office.” “Wait, your teacher sends you to the office when they pick on you? Why?” “She doesn’t like my tics. Or me.” Kaylee said before letting out a loud grunt. “Why do you say she doesn’t like you?” “Another teacher told me to hand my teacher a stack of handouts. She was in the teacher’s lounge and FUCK OFF, sorry.” she said. He nodded to her to continue. “Well when I opened the door I heard her in there talking about me to the other teachers. She-She...She said she wished I wasn’t in her class because I was annoying and that I needed to be in the specials needs department.” “That must have been hard to hear. Did your tics get worse after that?” Kaylee shrugged. “I don’t want to be in special needs.” She said feeling a tear fall down her face. “I’m not stupid.” “Being in a special needs classroom doesn’t make you stupid.” He said. “I was normal last year and then.” She shrugged and threw her hands up. “Well, sometimes tics can manifest after a stressful event. Did anything happen differently this school year compared to last?” “We moved.” Kaylee said after a pause. “That’s about it.” “Being in a new environment can be stressful. Did you leave behind friends?” “Yeah.” “Did you have any friends in the school you were going to?” Dr Marzan asked. “Yeah, back in Texas.” “No, I mean here in this last one.” “Not in the school I’m going to now. I’m…” Kaylee paused. “Not very popular.” She trailed off. “Do you know why you’re not in school right now?” Kaylee shook her head. She didn’t know, she was just happy she wasn’t there. “You were expelled for attacking another student. Jake you said his name was. I need to know, do you ever have thoughts of hurting other people? Even the ones who deserve it?” Kaylee shook her head. So that’s why her mom was so mad at her this week. She had gotten expelled. “He dared me to hit him, so I did.” “You said earlier it was because he was making fun of you.” “He was, they were, “ She tried to say thinking of how to explain. “I was having punching tics, while they were standing around me.” She demonstrated by punching the air. “So they started laughing and egging me on to hit him. Said they’d give me a free shot, then Jake said I was too retarded to even land a hit and… yeah. That’s when a teacher saw me.” “Do you think they wanted you to hit him because they saw the teacher coming and wanted to get you in trouble?” “Yes.” “So you don’t normally want to hurt anyone?” “No.” “What about yourself? Do you ever want to hurt yourself?” “No, I don’t want to, but sometimes I do anyway. My hand hits my face. I feel this pressure sometimes and it’s like, I have to.” “We call that a premonitory urge. Do you feel this urge with all your tics?” “Sometimes, but when they’re strong I don’t feel anything. It just happens. Like when I yell. I feel a pressure in my throat, but I don’t know what’s going to come out.” “I want to ask you about one more thing before I invite your mom to come back in.” Kaylee nodded. “Tell me about the accidents.” Kaylee blushed. “It’s like the other stuff.” “What do you mean? It’s like a tic? You’re mom is concerned you might have been acting up for attention or something.” “No!” Kaylee insisted. “I- I can’t control it! When I tic, sometimes my body pushes without meaning too.” “And that makes you pee?” “Yes,” Kaylee blushed before letting out a bark. “I don’t do it on purpose. It’s like when I say stuff, or rock my head side to side. Sometimes It just pushes.” “I see, well how often does this happen? Once a day? Once a week?” “Umm, well, lately a couple times a day.” Kaylee admitted. “My mom gets really mad when it happens.” “Wouldn’t it be more convenient if you wore some kind of absorbent pad or something?” “I guess.” She said with a shrug. “So how about you wait out front while I talk to your mom one more time?” “Okay.” she said getting up to leave. “Oh, and Kaylee.” She looked up and met his gaze. “You’re not a freak.”