Student Court

[willnotwill]

Ok, here's another story fragment. One of these days I'm going to weave these into a longer piece, but feel free to run with it yourself.

--

Here Bill was in the assistant principals lair again. He handed the secretary the "discipline notice" he'd been given prior to being sent down. Improper Lavatory Behavior was what it said. She ordered him to have a seat and wait. He thought about what was next. This wasn't the first time. He feared he knew what was next. He'd be given a good talking to by the assistant principal. He'd then get his punishment. It would be unpleasant. Lavatory infractions led to a suspension of Lavatory Privileges. He'd had it before. The first time was a day, the second a week. During those times he had to come to school in a diaper and had peed in them several times and even one unfortunate day, pooped in it.

A minute later the secretary came back and handed him a piece of paper. Student court is next Monday before school. You'll probably want to go speak to your guidance counselor as defense. In addition, a parent must sign this form and return it before then. He looked at it, it was indeed a summons to student court. He went up to the counseling office and managed to get an audience with his counselor.

The counselor explained student court was what it sounded like. Student judge, student jury. Either the AP or a student would be the prosecutor. The court was the due process for the benefit of the accused when the outcomes were serious such as suspension, expulsion, long running other sanctions...

"Well lets look at your case," the counselor typed on his computer. "Improper lavatory behavior, third offense. That's pretty serious. Any time you've got repeat offenses they tend to throw the book at you."

Now Bill was really nervous. "What are they going to do to me?"

"Well I can pretty much guarantee the prosecutor is going to ask for the full penalty: revocation."

"Revocation?"

"You'll be in diapers until graduation."

"Is there any chance?"

"Well you do have the advantage of a jury of your peers. It's going to be other students, and while sometimes they can be harsh, you can appeal to their friendly side. I suggest you go in and admit your failing, suggest that you do need to be punished but not the full amount and that you've learned the errors of your ways....yada yada."

Well, Bill thought it over. He had a few days before court, but he crafted his plan. It had to work, they had to listen.

"I can be your 'lawyer' during the trial if you'd like, but it would be best if you made the appeal and I can help you with that."

Monday morning soon came. The judge was sitting up on the bench. There was a case before his. No jury trial and it was disposed of with a three day suspension. Next came a jury trial. The prosecution again asked for a three day suspension, the defendant maintained his innocence. The jury after deliberation while finding the student guilty but only gave a three days of Satruday detention instead.

"William Bryant." His case was called.

The prosecution started: "On February 11, Mr. Wilson, a math teacher, alerted to a loud noise in the boy's bathroom in the Math wing entered to find the defendant repeatedly and violently kicking the door to one of the stalls in a way to make a loud noise and cause potential damage to the facilities. This is his third offense. In addition while serving a one week lavatory restriction during the second offense, he was observed entering a rest room in violation of the restriction. Leniency was extended to him and he was only given an extra day of restriction. We recommend revocation of his lavatory privs."

Now was my turn: "I with great shame admit the allegations. I had just had a bad argument with my girlfriend and I was angry and wanted to blow off some steam. I admit that it was wrong, and I should have dealt with it another way. I understand this charge is serious and I need punishment. However, I believe I can learn to over come this. I ask that I only receive ..." This is where I spent a considerable amount of time trying to pick a number between zero and forever that would sound good to the jury, "...two months of restriction so that I can learn my lesson and then show I have reformed my behavior."

The counselor patted me on the shoulder and told me I did a good job. The jury filed out to deliberate.

Minutes passed. They must really be talking about that. A note came out from the jury room and was handed to the judge. He made a few notes on it and handed it back.

"Mr. Smith, Mr. Bryant, I have received question from the jury. They wanted to know if they were bound to pick one of the two recommendations that you each proposed. I told them they were free to use one of them or to pick anything else they wanted out of the Student Discipline Manual."

The counselor said to me privately, "Well that's a good thing I think. It means they aren't just going to go with the prosecutor plan, but they may pick something in the middle, or they might give you less than you asked for."

The jury filed in. "Have your reached a decision?" the judge asked.

"We have. We, the jury, having found William Bryant guilty of Improper Lavatory Behavior recommend that his lavatory privileges be revoked and that he wear diapers to contain his bodily function."

There were gasps from some of those watching. The counselor patted me on the shoulder, "Sorry kid, thought you had swayed them." I was aghast, almost three years of diapers laid ahead of me.

"Furthermore," the jury foreman continued but was not well heard in the buzz of the room. The judge slammed his gavel and it got quieter, "FURTHERMORE," the juror continued, "because of his violation of previous restriction, we recommend a uniform modification that he not wear trousers over the diaper so it is clear he is on restriction."

The judge banged his gavel. "So ordered, sentence to begin immediately."

My head reeled. The assistant principal and the school nurse pulled me aside. My pants were gone, and then my underwear and a diaper was done up on me. "Back to class now," the AP directed. With red face and in a semi daze I walked out into the hall to the stares and giggles of the student body.

[DailyDi]

very nice

[babynicole]

please continue!

[Fulldiaper]

Yes please do continue. I'm looking forward to his further adventures.

[WBDaddy]

Aight, I'm taking up the gauntlet here... but I'm leaving a cliffhanger of sorts to make it easy for someone else to follow me.

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It'd been nearly three months, and the school year was blessedly drawing to a close. Throughout the first weeks of this hell, I had held on to the hope that the relentless teasing would die down when people got bored of harassing "diaper boy", but it seemed the second portion of the court's sentence served as a daily refresher in the hallways, and it never, ever let up. My social life was completely destroyed, and thanks to my parents being fed up with my behavior at home, my bladder control was starting to slip as well; every time I so much as talked back to Mom or Dad, or got into the tiniest bit of trouble in school, my "lavatory privileges" were revoked at home in lieu of other forms of grounding. For the entire time I resisted this punishment, holding out when the need arose, defiantly refusing to use the garment at school until my bladder was so cramped I could barely walk, trying to make sure I did my other business either before I left for school or after I got home, but my bladder was weakening, despite my resolve.

Today, though, was different. Today was the last formal day of school, and tomorrow was Field Day, which was nothing more than a big social over at the local park, occasionally interrupted by idiotic sporting events like relay races and what-not. No one would miss me if I didn't show up to that, for sure. So, despite the usual barrage of teasing in the halls, I was smiling, knowing that I'd finally be rid of these accursed things for the next few months. I managed to find a little extra fight, only having to stop at the nurse's office twice, and I even held on to it until I was a few paces from her door, so I avoided all the "EW, it's WET!" shouts I had grown accustomed to hearing.

I even had the forethought to pack underwear and a pair of trousers in my book bag that morning, very quietly, so I could change directly after the final bell, to thumb my nose at the bastards who had created my misery. Sure enough, when three o'clock rolled around, the mass exodus from the school began, as did my search for someplace quiet to change. I couldn't get into the rest rooms; even at this point in the day, they were watched by hall monitors. Luck finally smiled on me as I discovered an empty classroom and an unlocked door. I ducked inside and hurriedly changed, then ducked back into the hall and took off for the nearest exit, hearing only a few scattered shouts of "HEY DIAPER BOY - WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH PANTS ON?!" before I burst out into the sunshine and dashed on to my waiting bus outside.

Outside of the usual ribbing, not much was made of my lack of "protection", and it began to fade into the back of my mind. The bus dropped me off a block up from my house, as usual, and I hoofed it to the door. Much to my surprise, Mom's Camry was sitting in the driveway. I tensed a bit, wondering what would have brought her home from work so early, but entered anyway, quietly and with as little fanfare as possible. I started upstairs toward my bedroom, but I was stopped cold on the first step when I heard her shrill voice ring out clear through the house: "BILL?! KITCHEN! NOW!"

Dread filled my entire being as I made my way to the kitchen, a dread that was quickly confirmed as I entered the room. Mom was sitting at the table, hands folded quietly, and what appeared to be the entire contents of my underwear drawer sat in front of her, along with a pair of pinking shears. I stammered "M...M...Mom? Wh-wh-what's going on?"

"Sit." I sat.

"I was called at work today and informed that you are suspended tomorrow for violating your uniform restriction. Care to explain?" she said flatly as she picked up a pair of briefs from the pile and casually tossed them into the trash can after mangling them beyond recognition with the shears. My eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

"I... I changed after school! The bell had already rung! I swear!"

"So you couldn't wait the thirty minutes it took to get home before doing this?" Boxers this time, flannel plaid print, my favorite winter underwear. I was horrified, and I struggled to form the words to beg for mercy.

"Come on, Mom! I've been wearing these damned things for three months!"

"And whose fault is that?" Another pair of half-shredded briefs flew across the room. I found myself counting the pairs that were left - seven altogether, not including the ones I had on.

"But... Mom... Please! I need those!"

"Not anymore you don't." Another rustle of the garbage bag. It was like some twisted game, find the right thing to say to make her stop before the inevitable conclusion came crashing down.

"What do you mean?" My voice was nearly a squeak at this point. I knew damned well what the answer was, but I couldn't accept it... "I won't have anything to wear under my pants!"

Another pair went flying. "What pants?" she asked smoothly.

"My... pants... that I'll be wearing during... the summer..."

Down to four now. "Oh, it'll be much too hot for pants. You won't need them except maybe when we go out."

"Why, Mom? Why?" I felt the reality close around my throat, and I started to choke up.

Three. "Because you obviously didn't learn a DAMNED thing in the last three months!" she shouted, staggering me with the sudden show of anger.

Two. "Do you know how SICK I am of getting calls from school, letting me know you're in trouble? Do you have any idea how OLD it's gotten, signing off on documents acknowledging your INFANTILE behavior?"

The last pair now sat by itself on the table, and I stared at it. "You know what they told me today?! Do you?!" she shouted as she stood up, snatching the garment and drawing my eyes to it in her hand.

I shook my head as she unleashed her rage on it with the shears, then slammed it down into the can. "They told me that you're going to be on a three strikes rule next year. Do you know what that means?!"

I shook my head again. "One day suspension for the first infraction - ANY infraction - of the rules. A week for the second. EXPULSION for the third. Do you know what's going to happen to you if they kick you out next year?"

"N-n-n-n... no" I was trembling by this point.

"Well you're about to find out, mister. PANTS OFF!"

[diaperedcoach]

this is a great short story, does anyone know if it was every finished or countiued?

[WBDaddy]

this is a great short story, does anyone know if it was every finished or countiued?

Well, my addition was only a couple weeks ago after it lay dormant for some time, so I'm going to guess "no" on that. I was hoping maybe someone else might be inspired by what I threw in there, but it's early yet...

[babynicole]

love your continuation WBDADDY

[WBDaddy]

Thanks. I'd love to see someone add another chapter, just to see where it goes. I have a few ideas on where to take it, but it's not really my story, so I'd rather someone else contribute, instead of me "taking it over"...

[WBDaddy]

Gah. Fuck it. It's been nearly a month, and this has been brewing in my head for a while.

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The shock of my mother's tirade finally broke loose at that moment, and my rage gauge redlined as I realized what she was about to demand.

"FUCK you. I'm NOT doing this." I shouted, standing up from the table.

"Fuck me?!" she roared as she steadily walked toward me, backing me up against the refrigerator. "Fuck me?! The fuck you're not! I'm your fucking mother, not your fucking housekeep! You think your fucking father is going to say any different? I already fucking called him, before you got home, and he thinks this is a fucking great idea! So if you think you're fucking man enough, I suggest you pack your shit and get the fuck out! "

I was stunned. My mother had never used that word in front of me in my life, up until that moment. I stood there in silence, awed at this performance, completely dumbfounded at what to say next.

"I told you to take your fucking pants off, mister, and now you can take your fucking shirt off too!"

Still stunned, I complied. She then cut my underpants off with the shears she still held, leaving me naked and even more bewildered.

"Now get your ass out into the living room and plant it on the floor!" she screeched. My head dropped as I meekly walked out and sat down in front of the TV, facing her as she followed me.

"Lay down and DON'T move a muscle!"

"Mom, I can put them on..."

"SHUT UP AND LAY DOWN!" she screeched. I quickly dropped my head to the floor and waited. I couldn't believe I was about to be diapered by my mother for the first time since I was a toddler. I lay there and stared at my naked crotch, having long since been ordered by the school nurse to shave, which was rapidly enhanced by my mother introducing me to Nair. She stormed up the stairs and quickly came back down, diaper in hand.

"Pick your butt up!" she shouted. Once more I complied instinctively, feeling every bit the role of the naughty toddler as she quickly slipped the diaper under me, smacking my thigh when I didn't drop quickly enough. She taped me up, then stood up and reviewed her handiwork with a satisfied look on her face.

"You don't get to put your own diapers on anymore. You lost that privilege when you decided to act like a spoiled brat at school." she snapped. "Had to try and get the last word in before school let out. Hope it was worth it, because it's gonna be a long summer for you, little boy!"

The last two words stung me as I lay there. Foolishly, I tried to negotiate my already sealed fate. "Can I... go put some clothes on now?" I asked meekly.

"It's summertime, far too hot for clothes. You wore this outfit when you were two, and you'll wear it now, unless we decide to go somewhere that requires you wear shoes and a shirt."

Her omission of the words "pants" or "shorts" was not lost on me as I processed this bit of information.

She exhaled sharply and announced, "Now, you can go to your room until I call you for dinner. If I hear one word out of you other than 'I need my diaper changed, Mommy', I swear to God I'll take you to the grocery and buy you a pacifier and a bottle!"

I kept silent as I slowly walked up the stairs, every bit as dizzy as when the jury announced that terrible verdict what seemed like forever ago. I entered my room and found a whole new shock. Gone were my TV, my game console, and my laptop. Horrified, I tore through the room. My dresser was empty, save for a stack of diapers in the top drawer and the second drawer full of t-shirts. Closet was devoid of clothing as well. My desk drawers had been cleaned out completely. Shocked once more, I sat on the bed and just stared at the wall. Her footsteps came thumping up the stairs once more, and she burst in without warning.

"Oops, I forgot something." she said flatly as she pulled the second drawer open, gathered up all the shirts, and walked back out without a word. I listened silently to her movements and deduced that all my clothes were being stashed in garbage bags in my parents' room. Holy shit! I thought. They're serious about this! I was torn between panic and despondency, finally settling on the latter as I crawled under my blanket, the last respite of coverage I had available to me, and shed tears over my fate.

A short time later I heard Dad get home, and the two of them spoke in hushed tones I couldn't hear from upstairs. After this quiet exchange, Dad went back out the front door and came back in a few minutes later. He trotted up the steps and stopped at my bedroom, and I turned over to look at him. He said nothing as he produced a screwdriver and, to my horror, began to remove the hinges from my bedroom door.

After he took the door down, he looked at me and said "Take the covers off." flatly. I pulled back the covers to reveal my near-nakedness. "Good. You even think about taking that diaper off and you'll regret it. Dinner will be ready soon." He left, taking my door with him, back downstairs and back out the front. No doubt what little was left of my privacy had just been banished to the garage for the summer.

I was silent through dinner, and afterward my mother changed my diaper and sent me to bed. I decided it was pretty well futile to argue a six-thirty bedtime, not to mention I wasn't exactly in the mood to parade around in nothing but a diaper for any longer than I had to. Shockingly, I found myself falling asleep rather quickly. Unfortunately, I woke a few hours later needing to both pee and poop. This was something I was more than accustomed to doing already, but there was a special level of humiliation involved this time, as I got out of bed, squatted, and did my business.

Seeing no other alternative, I poked my head out of the bedroom and shouted "Mom...my... I need... a... diaper change..."

Just saying it killed a piece of my soul. Her response did much more damage, though. "Bring me a diaper, little boy."

No, she wasn't going to come up and change me, she wanted me to drag my fully loaded self down the stairs and let her change me in front of Dad in the living room. Perfect. Could this possibly get any worse? After the deed was done, complete with the requisite references to 'stinky britches' and 'big messes', I was sent back to bed to mull that question over until I finally fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning to pounding on the front door. Still half-asleep, I was vaguely aware as my mother answered the door, and a number of boxes were brought in and shuffled about, followed by her unnervingly cheerful salutation as she closed the door. Her footfalls up the steps sharpened my focus, and by the time she came into my bedroom, I was sitting up, wondering what sort of madness was to come.

She pulled my blankets off and said, "Good morning, little boy! Time to get your diaper changed!"

"Mom, I don't..."

"Don't backtalk me. Get up." she said sternly, grabbing me by the hand. I rose and followed her as she practically dragged me down the stairs. Sitting in the living room was a large box, nondescript save for "TBHC, LLC" on the bottom right of each panel, along with FedEx Overnight stickers announcing how the hell it got here so fast.

"Lay down, little boy," she cooed.

She ripped open the box and pulled out a clear plastic bag containing a stack of what had to be the thickest diapers I'd ever seen. She ripped it open and showed me the front. It had what looked like Hello Kitty spawn all over the front, like it was made for mutant five-foot-tall babies.

"Isn't that cute?" she cooed sarcastically. "You like your new diapers with the cute little baby animals all over them? No? Well you'd better get used to them, because I've got five more cases on the way, enough to last the whole summer! Now pick your butt up!"

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I flexed my legs and she slipped it under me. Without waiting for her order, I dropped back down onto what felt like a pillow compared to the school-issued diapers. She quickly taped me into the monstrosity, which felt every bit as bulky everywhere else.

"Now get up!" she shouted. I stood up and looked down. It was every bit a massive sized diaper designed for a baby. I looked at her plaintively as she assessed her handiwork.

"Perfect. You act like an infant at school, and now you can look like one too."

"Mom... please..."

"I don't want to hear it, Billy. You're going to be a good little boy for the next three months, because every time you don't, I'm ordering another case, and you can wear whatever is left after the summer is over to school in the fall."

This revelation hit me like a hammer. My social life was already ruined by the revocation and the no-pants sentence. This would get me killed if I showed up at school wearing these...

[WBDaddy]

Any interest in this continuing? Anyone else like to contribute?

[littlepiggy]

Please do continue!

[WBDaddy]

I finally recovered my wits sufficiently and spoke up. "Can I go back to my room now?" I pleaded.

"No, you can sit right down, fold your hands, and watch TV quietly until I get your breakfast ready."

I managed the few steps over to the couch and sat down, grabbing the remote in frustration.

"Give me that!" she snapped, snatching it from me as I turned the TV on. She turned around and set the station to Nickelodeon, which had already started it's "Nick Jr." programming for the day, much to my chagrin.

"Come on, Mom, really?"

"Fold your hands in your lap and be quiet until I call you for breakfast."

She departed, remote still in hand, and I sat and sulked, staring off into the window as the idiotically over-wrought fourth-wall massacre that was Dora The Explorer assaulted my ears. My eyes drifted downward, awed at this utterly massive disposable garment between my legs, and I breathed a sigh of relief when it occurred to me that she still had to work during the day, so there was only so much she could do.

Another thought crossed my mind: Why is she here today? Shouldn't she be at work?

"Billy! Come get breakfast!" she shouted, breaking my concentration.

Sighing, I got up and half-waddled my way into the kitchen, crinkling the whole way like I had shopping bags attached to my feet. When I arrived and sat down at the still-bare table, I looked up and asked, "Aren't you late for work, Mom?"

She turned around, grinning, with a bowl of oatmeal, which she placed in front of me with a spoon. "I took the day off because I need to find you a babysitter for the summer, of course," she said as she sat down across the table, smiling and staring expectantly.

The oatmeal weirded me out, but the babysitter revelation nearly made me throw up. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" I snarked as I picked up the spoon.

Definitely the wrong thing to say there. "Don't you sass me, little boy! You're the one who can't act like the young adult he's supposed to be! You think I'm enjoying the idea of wasting money on someone to watch you because I can't trust you to even comply with a simple order from the school? You think I don't have better things to spend that money on, like the car your father wanted to buy for you, so he could teach you to drive and you could get your license in October when you turned 16? No, instead I have to spend all that money on diapers to put on your bottom and a babysitter to make sure they stay there. How pitiful is that?"

I was silent, but inside I was dying. She didn't stop there, either.

"You just don't get it, do you? You have a simple job in this household; you go to school, learn what they're trying to teach you, and stay out of trouble. And you even get to take three months off every year to relax and do nothing but goof off with your friends. You can't sit there and call me every nasty name you can conjure in your head, little boy, but one way or another, I'm going to get it through that thick skull of yours that you WILL do the job that is expected of you, or your life from now until you turn 18 is going to be HELL, from the moment you wake up until you close your eyes to sleep at night."

She took a huge breath, sighed, and said "Now, eat your breakfast, or I'll put it in the refrigerator and you can have it for lunch cold!"

My eyes widened. Dusty old memories of her pulling that stunt on me when I was young came rushing back, and I reluctantly began shoveling the flavorless glop as fast as I could. She stood up and stormed out of the room, leaving me to this miserable bowl of mush and my miserable thoughts.

As I ate, I could hear her in the downstairs office, tapping away at her keyboard. My bladder awoke, and I didn't even try to fight it. I was astonished at how much the bulk between my legs expanded. My morning pee was usually a pretty heavy one, and even when I was being "grounded" at home, my mother would allow me to use the bathroom in the morning because the school-issue diapers had no chance of holding it all. This behemoth was taking everything I had and turning it into a veritable balloon in my crotch, forcing my thighs apart as I sat stunned.

Thankfully, I was just finishing the oatmeal when Mom returned to the kitchen. "You finished. Good. You may go back and watch TV."

"I... Mom... Do I have to?"

"You may go back and watch TV." she repeated, menacingly.

"Can you... I mean... I need... my diaper changed." I choked the words out as I stood up.

"You need what?" she asked expectantly, looking at my swollen crotch with mild amusement.

"I need... my diaper changed... Mommy." My diaper. It felt like vomiting every time I said it.

"After I'm done cleaning up in here I'll change your diaper. You may go sit on the FLOOR and watch TV while you wait."

There was no end, seemingly. I went from changing myself at home, to Mom insisting on doing it for me, to now having to beg for a change and then wait until she decided to do it? I was quite certain at this point that someone had switched my mother's brain with that of the Marquis De Sade himself. I trudged, spread-legged and clumsily, back out to the living room and dropped down to the floor with a nearly audible squish, cringing at the sensation.

I strained to listen as Mom's cellphone rang a few minutes later and she began chatting. I heard little words and phrases, things like "special needs" and "big baby", followed by something-o-clock and a loud "Wonderful! See you then!" Her footfalls toward the living room announced her, and I turned around and looked up, bracing myself for new misery.

"We ready to get our wet little diapee changed?" she cooed, reaching into the box that still sat menacingly next to the couch. "Lay down, little boy."

I complied. She kneeled down beside me and began the chore. "Wonderful! I've already got two appointments this afternoon and one for tomorrow. Several of my Facebook friends have college-aged girls looking for extra work this summer, so we've got plenty of candidates to choose from, and I suspect we'll have plenty more before too long."

As she taped me back up, she said "Don't be so sad, sweetie. I'm sure you and your new sitter will have lots of fun together. I'm already working on a list of suggestions for outings she can take you on so you're not sitting around the house bored all day."

Outings... of course. The hole just keeps getting deeper...

[WBDaddy]

After I swallowed my desired response to that last comment, Mom sat me back up and left me to my own devices once again, sitting in front of some bizarre show about a bunch of bugs and a spider, as she headed back to the office, humming merrily. On her way out of the room, she said, "If you behave yourself between now and lunchtime, I'll let you wear a t-shirt this afternoon."

It was a strange incentive, and I couldn't help but wonder the motivation behind it. I sat in silence, the impending horror of some sycophant college kid with a mean streak toward men entering my life as an authority figure weighing heavily on my already over-stressed brain. I gave zero thought to my bodily functions as they took place, beyond the progressive swelling between my legs. An hour and a half or so later, based on how many shows had completed their cycle, Mom finally resurfaced.

"Excellent. We now have twelve prospective sitters to interview, three today and nine tomorrow. I'm sure your Dad won't mind going golfing for the day while we figure out who will be best able to take care of you from now until September, right?"

Her use of the word "we" was unnerving, though I dismissed it.

"Anyway, come sit down in the kitchen and I'll make you a sandwich."

She was way too happy for me to be anything but nervous as I followed her back into the kitchen. The fact that it was only eleven o'clock, and the oatmeal she fed me for breakfast still weighed heavily on my stomach didn't help.

I watched silently as she quickly slapped together a peanut butter sandwich and poured a glass of milk, then brought them both over.

"Eat up now, so we can get you down for your nap."

"Mom, please, really?"

"You're about to lose that shirt, little boy."

Her tone silenced me once more, though I seethed at the idea of lying in bed in the middle of the day for however long she decided was appropriate. I ate as she hovered over me, alternating between scolding and encouragement until the moment I drained the last of the milk, then shooed me up to my room.

"Any noise up here and you're in trouble." she announced from the doorway, the bare wood where the hinges of my door once sat a stark contrast against the white trim. It only occurred to me after she left that she either didn't bother to check my diaper or ignored the fact that it was obviously wet, but this was a mere needle in the haystack of disorganized thoughts I wrestled through as I lay there, grateful once more for the only covering I had available, that being my top sheet, as I discovered Mom had removed my blanket this morning while I was downstairs.

Sleep did not visit me in the seemingly endless stretch of time I lay there, but a knock on the door snapped me out of the trance-like state I was in. I heard Mom open the door, and a brief exchange of greetings happened before she dropped another set of devastating words: "Make yourself comfortable! I'll go get him!"

I flinched with each thump up each step, my back to the door, trying vainly to pretend I was asleep. I was surprised when she went straight past my door and into her bedroom, but the rustle of a garbage bag told me why she'd passed. Seconds later, a piece of cloth hit the back of my head, and my mother loudly announced, "Wake up sleepyhead! Come down and meet this nice lady who wants to take care of you!"

I didn't move, hoping she'd leave. At once I felt her breath on my ear as she whispered fiercely, "I know you're not sleeping. If you make me drag you out of bed, you'll come down as naked as you are now."

That was all the prompting I needed. I hurriedly sat up and threw the t-shirt on as she stood there, arms folded and smiling. Somehow she'd manage to find one of the few shirts in my drawer that only came down to my waistline, leaving me with no help at all covering my clearly sodden undergarment. I started to point this out to her, but she snatched me by the hand and pulled me straight out of the room and down the steps. Obviously I wasn't getting a change before I met...

She was chubby, but her weight actually softened her facial features enough to where her sharp nose wasn't nearly as severe as it would have been on a thinner woman. Her brown hair was tied back into a neat little bun, and she blushed and turned her head when she saw me enter the room, diaper in full view, Mom practically dragging me out on display.

"Sit down on the floor, Billy," Mom ordered, and I complied, blushing fiercely, doing my best to conceal as much of the embarrassing underwear as I could, knowing it was an exercise in futility. The girl sitting on the sofa looked as red in the face as I felt.

"Oh, Marcie," Mom laughed, "what's wrong, honey? He's just like any other toddler, just bigger!"

"I... I guess I couldn't quite visualize what you were describing until..."

"Yes, it is quite a shock, seeing a fifteen-year-old boy in diapers. I was just as shocked when he came home from school like this, after he was sentenced to revocation this year."

Marcie, still fixated on Mom's face and avoiding looking at me as best as she could, seemed to respond to this a bit. "Yeah, I mean, I heard about the whole lavatory ban thing when I was graduating, but I'd never seen anyone actually wearing..."

"A diaper? Yes, Billy was a special case. They decided that, since he had already been caught trying to use the bathroom while he was on restriction, that it needed to be very clear that he wasn't allowed in the bathroom anymore. When he got caught taking his diaper off at school yesterday, we decided that we should help him get used to wearing them, so we wouldn't have this problem next year."

I managed to lift my gaze enough to watch her eyes bulge. "So... he wears diapers all the time now?"

"Why yes he does, at least until he proves next year that he doesn't need help remembering his punishment and why he got it."

"So, he knows how to change himself and stuff, he's not..."

"No, for the duration of the summer, he's not allowed to touch his diaper. A grownup will change him when they feel it is necessary. And with these extra-absorbent diapers we got for him, it won't be necessary very often, unless of course he makes poop, right Billy?"

I dropped my head into my knees and said nothing.

"Oh... well... I've changed babies plenty of times, but certainly never someone this old..." Marcie said nervously.

"You know, it's really not that much different. Here, I'll walk you through it." Mom offered.

"MOM!" I pleaded.

"Shush, Billy. You obviously need a change now anyway. And is the bottom of that t-shirt getting wet too?" she suggested.

"No... it's dry!" I protested.

"Well then lie down, because either Marcie here is going to change you, or I'm going to change you and she can watch."

I thought I might pass out from the shock, but I managed to drag myself into position in the middle of the floor, staring straight at the ceiling as Mom once again destroyed what I thought an unbreakable record in my personal humiliation...

Marcie's trembling hands made their way through the motions, with Mom's constant guidance. One by one the four tapes were pulled away, as I heard Mom retrieve another diaper from the shipping box. Cool air blew over my damp crotch as she pulled the front down, and I shuddered.

"Oh my, he's completely bare!" Marcie announced. I wanted to cry, or shriek, or run out of the room, but instead I lay there paralyzed.

"Yes, we depill him every two or three weeks. Don't want him getting a rash. Hold on a moment, and I'll fetch the baby powder."

Baby powder?! This was a first. She hadn't even done that today! Footfalls up the steps and quickly back down.

"Considering how many changes he'll be getting this afternoon, I wouldn't bother with this..."

What... the... fuck?!

"...but you'll certainly need to know the proper technique for powdering an oversized baby like Billy here if you want to work for us. Now, just sprinkle it all over..."

I guess my mind broke for a minute, because all of a sudden I was somewhere else, lying in a field of grass, the soft, warm summer breeze blowing over my naked body. I stared bewildered at clouds rolling by, the slightest bead of sweat trickling off my forehead and down my cheek, as the blades of grass began to tickle my feet as they swayed back and forth. All at once, the grass lashed my thigh with a slap.

"Pick your butt up, Billy!" Slap! My mother's sharp hand struck my thigh once more, and I launched back into the miserable reality.

"There you go," she continued, obviously addressing Marcie, though I still couldn't bear to look, though I instinctively flexed my hips and pushed my naked crotch into the air. "Yep, you can't pick his bottom up to powder that, so you've got to just put some on the back of his diaper, and he'll settle into it."

Mom talked her through the process of snugging up the lower tapes, then the top ones. I guess Marcie was intent on making an impression, as she nearly cut the circulation to my legs off, as tight as it was cinched.

"Great job!" Mom praised.

"Th... thank you." Marcie responded meekly.

"I told you it wasn't all that different from diapering other babies!"

"No, I guess it isn't."

"Mom..." I tried to cut in.

"Shush, Billy. The grownups are talking."

"But..."

"Does someone need a spanking?"

"No..."

"Then be quiet and let the grownups talk."

They chatted further, Mom discussing expectations and discipline and the like, and Marcie mostly silent as she took it all in. I just sat there with my head between my knees, huffing the sickly sweet smell of the powder and wishing I'd been born to a different family, somewhere far away from here...

[WBDaddy]

I sat through another eternity of Mom questioning and Marcie answering until they finally stood up. Mom shook Marcie's hand and ordered me to do likewise, which was as an awkward a moment for her as it was me, and she was out the door.

"After that display, I should take your shirt." Mom snapped as she closed the door.

I was dumbstruck. "What did I do?!"

"Well let's see. nearly throwing a tantrum when you needed your diaper changed, then sulking like a two-year-old in timeout the rest of the interview? I suppose it doesn't matter, she's obviously not cut out to handle a big baby like you."

No longer 'little boy', now it was 'big baby'. "I'm not a baby!" I shot back, immediately regretting it.

"Well that settles that!" she snapped, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling my arm down, jerking me into a bent-over position. She pulled the shirt over my head in one quick move, and I had nothing left to do but raise my arms feebly as she ripped it the rest of the way off.

"Now, any more misbehaving and I'll pull that diaper down and spank your bare bottom in front of our guest. AND I'll order you another case of baby diapers for fall!"

Back to virtually naked and up against the proverbial wall, I bowed my head. The doorbell rang a moment later, and Mom lifted my chin and shot me a wicked glare as she stuck her finger an inch or two from the bridge of my nose. "I mean it!" she hissed.

The door opened and a very, very attractive blonde walked in, petite, with a girl-next-door cuteness to her facial features, which were immediately exaggerated as she covered her mouth and giggled at the sight of me.

"Danielle, say hello to Billy. Billy?" Mom said expectantly.

I lifted my eyes and struggled to keep them focused on her face as I reached a trembling hand out, which Danielle accepted and shook lightly as she smiled and stifled another giggle. "I'm sorry, really. Those are the most darling diapers I've ever seen!" The erection I had inadvertently developed when I saw her and touched her hand quickly went flaccid.

"Aren't they cute?" Mom cooed. "I bought them online. Perfect for my big baby boy! Sit down, Baby Boy!" she instructed, and I collapsed, Indian style, where I stood.

"He's so cute, and just as shy as a toddler too! Poor guy, you're just so embarrassed by all this, aren't you? What in the world did you do to get in this much trouble?" Danielle cooed.

Mom went through the whole miserable story again, my misbehavior at school, the sentencing, the suspension, and even embellished on my behavior in the last interview as she explained my wardrobe.

"Oh you poor little guy!" Danielle remarked. "I hope we get along better!"

Not surprisingly, Danielle was practically ecstatic to have a go at a diaper change when Mom offered. Unfortunately for me, nature took over, and when she removed the front of my diaper, I was standing at full attention, covering my eyes at the shame of it. A series of sharp slaps on my thigh from my mother cured that problem fairly quickly, and the two women cooed and doted over me as they replaced the still-dry diaper, but not before wiping me down with a cold wipe and laying on another thick layer of powder.

The fear of my mother's reprisal keeping my temper in check coupled with Danielle's nearly sadistic pleasure in adding to my humiliation was finally too much, and tears began to flow freely.

"What is the matter, baby boy?" Mom asked, feigning concern. "Are we still tired? Did we not get enough of a nap?"

I bit my lip hard, but said nothing as I trembled.

Danielle, to my further surprise, stood up, grabbed my hand, and pulled me over onto her lap on the couch. "Poor little boy, he's just having a tough day, isn't he?" she cooed as she held my head to her breasts. My erection came back in full force, thankfully concealed by the thick padding, but I did my level best to mask how much I was turned on by this whole exercise.

This, apparently, displeased my mother. "You may go lie down and take another nap, Billy." she said stiffly.

I pulled myself up to a stand and trudged out of the room, and Danielle called after me, "Have a nice nap, sweetie! Maybe I'll see you Monday!"

Once out of sight, I practically ran up to my room and did the most degrading thing I'd ever done in my life - I grabbed the front of that diaper and masturbated to the image of that buxom blonde and her combination of syrupy cat-calling and exaggerated "caretaking". Afterward, there was nothing but shame, heavy, rank, soul-rending shame at what I'd done. That and my bowels demanding audience. I trembled as I lay over on my side, pushing it out as fresh tears began to streak my face, and when it was over, and I'd added a heavy dose of urine to the disgusting mess in the front, I collapsed into fitful sleep.

[CDLover]

Would I be humiliated or thrilled???

[willnotwill]

I'm really liking where this is going. I'm pleased that I could instigate a great story line. I was asked if I had any other ideas and I have some for the school year but it needs another character, so rather than interfere with where WBDaddy is going with the main character, I'm going to get started on a female character...

---

"Students on Lavatory Restriction must wear a diaper..."

Debbie had read this in the Student Code of Conduct book ten times. At first she was shocked that the school could even mete out punishment like that but something kept tugging at her.

She began to fantasize about that punishment. The concept scared her. She'd be embarrassed and repulsed by the idea. And the concept of using it was even more repulsive. This would never happen to her. She was always a good girl. She'd never seen the principal's office or detention in ten years of going to school.

Still the idea played with her. She kept going back to the code of conduct for the details. Lavatory Restriction could be invoked for abuse of the lavatories and in certain other cases. Generally, it went like one day on restriction for the first offense, a week for the second, and then the dreaded revocation of lavatory privs for the third. She kept her ears open and heard of certain students having been sentenced to it in various degrees. She couldn't imagine it herself. It was all too severe, but still the concept intrigued her for some reason.

One day she had boarded the bus for the ride home. A not-too-close friend, Linda, boarded and plopped down beside her. Linda's eyes were red. Had she been crying?

"Are you OK?" Debbie asked.

"Yeah, well no I'm pissed. Had a run in with Mr. Dennis. Tried turning on the ol' water works but it didn't soften the bastard's heart any."

Mr. Dennis was one of the assistant principals and Linda had obviously tried crying to get out of whatever mess she had gotten into.

"What happened?"

"I was caught hanging out in the girl's room during fifth period. I've got chemistry in sixth period with Matt and I wanted to make sure I looked good."

Linda was boy crazy if nothing else. Matt was her lab partner in Chemistry and the new object of her desire.

"Any how I got caught and you can't work your way out of it with Dennis. He through the book at me."

Debbie snapped to attention now.

"Lavatory Restriction?"

"Yep." She handed over the papers she was carrying. One was a letter to the parents informing them of what had transpired. The other was the details of the restriction. Debbie read this carefully. It detailed what kind of diapers, when LInda was to report, etc... She read it three times.

When she got home Debbie got on the internet. She now had details and she searched for adult diapers as described in Linda's letter. Wow, there were more than a few. She looked at sizing. She looked up her own waist and hips in the size chart. She'd be a small. What was she doing? She was not on Lavatory Restriction and she certainly wasn't going to be.

After Linda's day in diapers, Debbie found she wanted details. She had to be careful. She wanted to seem concerned, but not ghoulish nor let Linda know that there was some fascination in the underlying punishment.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

"Ah, it was nothing." Linda said. "I mean it felt weird and frankly I had to put on a skirt because all my jeans are too tight to wear that thing under. Other than that, dealing with my parents was worse than what happened at school. Hell, Matt kept his eyes on me all sixth period. I think it was just the skirt. I don't wear them much, but if it turns him on, maybe I should."

It went on that her father had made her pay for the diapers as part of her punishment. Linda went on about Matt and how she was wasting money she could have spent on cosmetics.

"Like I paid $18 and only used two out of the whole bag."

"Two?" Debbie asked.

"I did have to go."

"Eeeuuu..." Debbie pretended disgust.

"It's no big thing, it's just pee," Linda stated.

Debbie dared not prolong the conversation and Linda was well onto talking about Matt anyhow. Still her mind wandered to her envisioning what Linda's day was like. Dressing, peeing in the diaper. The fact that there was a whole bag of diapers less two still somewhere at Linda's intrigued her as well. Could she get one? They were just going to waste. No she couldn't ask that.

Weeks went on, but still Debbie's mind kept wandering to the subject. She reread the code of conduct. She spent time online looking at medical supply sites envisioning diapers. Could it happen to her. Could she make it happen? She dreamed of it happening. She figured, she could do it. Linda just hung out int he bathroom during class. She had never cut class let alone did something that could get her in deep trouble. Still it nagged on her. She decided she would do it. She planned that she'd just linger in the bathroom and get caught. It wasn't a heinous crime and she could explain it to her parents. All she would have to do is go in between classes and stay there. Monday I'll do it. After third period she went in and pretended to pee. She just sat there in the stall. The bell rang. She couldn't do it. She hustled off to class. Tuesday she didn't even get that far. Wednesday the teacher in math was going to go over the questions on the recent exam that Debbie got a 100% on. If there was a class she could miss this was it. She lingered in the stall until the bell rang. When the bathroom grew quite she came out. Linda was just doing makeup. Debbie didn't carry much, but she had some lip gloss. She pulled the little brush from the bottle and began to intently apply it. Minutes passed. She reapplied the same thing three times. This was stupid. Nobody was coming and she was just wasting time in this stupid bathroom.

She decided she'd just go back to class. She'd make up some excuse with the math teacher. It wouldn't be a problem she was ten minutes late to class. Out to bathroom door and she tuned towards class.

"Young lady!" a voice boomed behind her.

Mr. Dennis. "Do you have a pass."

She turned, nearly petrified. "No," she said sheepishly.

"Do you have any excuse for this misbehavior?"

"No."

"Come with me."

Oh my god. It was happening. It was actually happening. She wanted it to stop. Could she get out of it. What excuse could she give? She was sick? She started to cry, but remembered Linda trying that.

In his office, Mr. Dennis started his lecture. "You are well aware that to be out of class requires a pass. You also should understand from your review of the code of conduct at the beginning of the year that you're expected to use the lavatory on your own time. I'm going to give you a day of lavatory restriction. Do you know what that entails?"

Debbie couldn't even speak at this point. "Good." Mr. Dennis was shuffling papers. "Please show these to your parents." It was the same papers she had seen with Linda. He also handed her a hall pass and told her to get back to class. Linda read over the papers on the way back to class. It was the same as LInda's except they now had her name on it. It was going to happen. She was filled with dread and excitement. Her restriction was set for the following Monday.

When she got home she told her mother she had been in a little trouble at school and handed over the papers. At first mother clucked at her for being in trouble but she got angry? This is the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. She was going to give this Mr. Dennis a piece of her mind. Debbie wanted to avoid the fuss. Part of her hoped mom would get her out of this. Part of her wanted her not even to try.

The next day when she got home, there it was on the counter. A bag of Super Adult Briefs, size small. She stopped and examined the bag. Just touching the plastic itself was electric.

"The woman at MedMart said those were the best they had. I talked to Mr. Dennis, but I got nowhere. I guess you made your bed, you'll have to lie in it. I figured you shouldn't be any more uncomfortable than you need be."

"Thanks, mom." was all Debbie could muster. She wanted nothing more than to rip the bag open and try one.

"Perhaps you should go upstairs and make sure they fit, dear."

"I guess you're right," Debbie said trying to hide any real interest.

She went upstairs and red the bag. There were pictures on the back showing how to put them on, but other than having two tapes per side, they were no different than baby diapers really.

She opened the bag and pulled one out. She just stared at it for a while. Then she slid off her jeans and panties and plopped down on the bed and put it on. She stood up and looked in the mirror.

She realized her shirt was tucked into diaper and pulled it out. She looked for a while. She started to get hot. This was all so strange. She pulled her jeans back on and she could struggle and get them fastened. While she didn't wear hers as tight as Linda, it was still a tight fit with the diaper, she could hardly move. She took them back off. Linda had suggested a skirt. She had a dress in her closet and slipped that on. That was a lot easier. She spun around in front of the mirror. It didn't show which was good. She still however felt the bulk between her legs. Was she going to walk bow legged? No it was't that bad.

Her mother came up and knocked. She opened the door.

"Well?"

"They fit fine. The jeans were a bit tight over them but I think I'll wear this on Monday."

"Good. You can change back now. Your father got home and dinner's almost ready."

Debbie toyed with the idea of leaving the diaper on, but no, she wasn't ready for that. She very carefully undid the tapes and stored the bag of diapers and the one she had tried on in the closet and put her t-shirt and jeans back on and went down to dinner.

Monday morning came. She ate breakfast, showered, made sure to pee one last time. It was her big day and she was excited. She had laid the diaper and dress out the night before. She had also packed a small gym bag with two extras and some wipes as advised in the instructions from school. She got dressed and headed out for the bus.

Sitting on the bus, she felt the bulk of the diaper. Every time she moved her legs it was electrifying. She was scared someone would find out, she could never be as nonchalant about it as Linda. But she was excited never the length. She reported to the office and Mr. Dennis asked if she was wearing her diaper. She lifted her skirt to show him. He lead her to the "changing room" and showed her were to stow her bag. "Only during passing time or lunch, and I'd recommend lunch when you have time to do it. I will not be writing passes for you spending too much time changing."

Off she went to homeroom...

[WBDaddy]

While Will catches up to me in the chronology of the story, I'm going to spend a little quality time on the "nanny interview" process.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It couldn't have been long after I dozed off when I heard Mom closing the front door and storming up the steps. My eyes flew open just as she reached the doorway with a fierce look on her face and started to speak, then apparently was taken aback by the smell.

"Good lord, child, you stink!" she snapped, grabbing my hand and pulling. I quickly scrambled to my feet as she practically dragged me down the steps, then assumed the position in the middle of the living room, grateful for the prospect of a clean diaper, for the mess in practically all parts of my current one.

She cleaned me up quickly and without much fanfare, grumbling about "that little whore isn't getting within a dozen feet of my son," and other epithets expressing her displeasure with Danielle's performance. On one hand I was relieved that I wouldn't be spending the summer with the blonde who took far too much pleasure in the "caretaking" aspect of the job. On the other hand, I couldn't help but regret not being around the incredibly sexy nineteen-year-old, particularly after the whole lap situation, and I wondered how far exactly she would have taken that aspect of it.

Regardless, it was a mere few minutes later that the door knocked and I was quickly snatched to a stand as my mother answered the door to the third interviewee of the day. Mom shook her hand and showed her in, beelining directly for me as I stood there, red-faced for the third time in as many hours.

Melissa, as Mom had introduced her, was a mask of shock as Mom pressed us into shaking hands, hers visibly trembling as much as mine prior to them meeting. I resumed my assigned position on the floor, and the two women sat down. Mom launched once more into the story of how I came to be in this state, but Melissa's green eyes remained fixated on my form in front of Mom's legs as I sat there trying to maintain at least a neutral face.

"...Melissa?" Mom asked expectantly. I hadn't caught her question, and apparently neither had the short, heavy-set redhead. Melissa's eyes jerked up toward Mom for the first time since we all sat down.

"I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"I said, do you have any experience with children who aren't potty trained?"

"I... yes, I babysat for several people in my neighborhood when I was... around Billy's age..." She returned her gaze back to me in wonder.

"Well good. It's really not much different when they're this size..." and just that quick Mom was encouraging a third stranger to demonstrate her ability to change my diaper. This time was dramatically different, however. Melissa only managed to pull the top tapes off, and when the third ripped the front panel, she let go and backed up.

"I... I can't do this, I'm sorry," she said, standing up. "I apologize for wasting your time, Mrs. Bryant." She started to edge toward the door. "I just... I thought I could... I mean..."

Mom looked surprised, but righted herself quickly. "Well, that's alright, sweetie. Thank you for stopping by anyway." She walked toward the door and let Melissa out, leaving me lying there with my diaper half off. I heard her walk into the kitchen and rummage through a couple of drawers before she returned with a roll of packing tape.

"No sense in wasting a perfectly good diaper, now, is there?" she asked rhetorically, pulling the wings back taut with a large slice of the tape on each side. She turned the TV on and, seeing the afternoon cartoon lineup, switched it over to the Disney channel.

"Maybe we can go out for dinner this evening, and then we can stop at the video store and pick some age-appropriate videos for you, Billy. Won't that be nice?"

My response consisted of a shudder.

"On second thought, maybe I'll just send you to bed without dinner, and your father can stay here and keep an eye on you while I go shopping for you, since you're still determined to sulk all the time. I'll talk to him about it when he gets home. You may go to your room until then."

Still silent, I waddled my way back upstairs to ponder my fate.

[willnotwill]

Continuing Linda's story...

As she walked down the hall she looked at herself. Could others tell? She couldn't tell when Linda was on restriction. Sitting down in homeroom she felt the padding below her and between her legs. It was electric. She was actually doing it. What was this about this that was so exciting? She could hardly pay attention to what was going on. She stood up for the pledge, again the bulk between her legs as she stood at attention jolted her. The day went on, she tried to keep her mind on things but it was hard. The dress added to the excitement. She rarely wore them and moving through the halls the breeze on her bare legs up to the point of the diaper just reminded her of what was going on under the dress.

After lunch she realized that she had to pee. She knew that it was required that she do so in the diaper. She held it for a while but during the droning of her next to last class she decided to try. She couldn't at first. Years of training kept her for being able to sitting in class. She closed her eyes and thought about it. A trickle started and she quickly stopped it. She opened her eyes and looked around. All the students were sitting there either looking at the teacher or half asleep. She tried again this time letting the flow go. She felt the warmth build as she experienced the relief. Again she was excited. Here she was in the middle of History peeing away. Again she looked around as if someone was going to detect what she was doing, but no, they were still the same.

As she walked to her final class she felt the diaper pull at her hips. Obviously it was much heavier having soaked up the load of pee. There wasn't too much of a feeling of being wet, though when she sat down she felt it.

Linda caught her on the bus. "Trying to catch a boy?" she asked.

Debbie didn't catch that this was a reference to the dress.

"Or did you get lavatory restriction?"

Now Debbie caught on. She blushed.

"I'm sorry for you. Mine sucked."

"It's OK, it's over now. I'll change when I get home."

When she got home her mother inquired how her day went. "It wasn't too bad. I gotta change though."

She grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen and went upstairs. She took off the dress and stared a second at the wet saggy diaper in the mirror. She began to have second thoughts about the whole idea. As exciting as it was, this is the reality. A girl standing in a soaked diaper. Sitting in her own pee all the last hour. She ripped off the diaper and stuffed it into the plastic bag and tied it off before she could smell it. She headed off into the shower and got back to normal.

---

She thought her experiment would satisfy her for a while. The aftermath reminded her it wasn't all fun and games. One evening she went to the closet and retrieved the diaper she had test fit when they first arrived. She put it back on. She climbed into bed and gently rubbed herself to sleep.

As time went on the desire started returning stronger. Could she do it again? This time it would be a week. No, she couldn't keep doing this. If she'd get caught a third time, she'd be irrevocably going to school in diapers. That would be terrible, or would it? No she couldn't risk it a second time. Sure she could. She went back and forth for weeks.

[willnotwill]

More of Debbie's story...

It was during this period that Bill Bryant came to her attention. Here was a boy openly walking around wearing a diaper and from appearances using it. From listening to the scuttlebutt without appearing too inquisitive, she found out he had been put on revocation as well as getting a double whammy from the student court of the uniform modification. She'd seen other students on uniform modification, but that usually meant a day or week wandering around in the underwear, but this obviously intrigued her.

One day she watched intently as she saw Bill walking down the hall towards her and turned and followed him with her eyes as he walked away.

"Nice ass in that diaper, but no way I'm going to hang out with a boy in soggy pants."

It was Linda speaking. She knocked Debbie out of her daze. Of course Linda was only interested in the guy where as Debbie was looking at the diaper.

"Oh, I wasn't... I mean it's just so weird I had too look."

"Love it when the guys get a uniform modification. 'specially the ones in briefs. Love getting a look at the shape of their package."

Debbie felt safe that her cover wasn't blown. To Linda, everything was about guys.

Still now the desire was getting stronger as was the idea of finding out more about Bill. After a week or so, she figured out his schedule. She managed to find herself where she knew he would be.

One day as he was approaching she pretended to "accidentally" drop her books. It was a lame trick, but it worked. As she stooped down to pick up her books, he stopped and got down to help her.

Their eyes met for a second as he handed her one of her books.

"Thanks," was all she could muster.

"No problem," he said and he stood up and he was gone.

She was blushing and she was in a daze at the encounter. Damn it....why was all this happening. The bell rang for class. She felt a welling of resolve. She slowly walked down the hall. She saw a teacher waking towards her and she sharply turned into the girl's room and placed her books down and slid down the wall and sat there. A minute or so later the teacher entered. "Young lady? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class? Do you have a pass?"

Debbie just sat there silent.

"Young lady!" The teacher said with more emphasis.

Debbie stood up. The teacher wrote out a discipline slip and directed her to the office. In short order she got a scolding by Mr. Dennis and a week's worth of lavatory restriction to "think about it."

"Fine," Debbie thought and went back to class.

[WBDaddy]

Bill's miserable summer continues... but with a little silver lining.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

After what seemed an eternity, Dad came home. I could hear them speaking in low tones in the living room, but couldn't make out the conversation, which made me even more nervous. A few minutes later, I heard heavy footfalls up the stairs, definitely my father's. I sat up and turned toward the doorway just as he arrived.

"Dinner's almost ready, Bill, but I thought we needed to have a conversation here."

"Yes, sir." I gulped.

"Mom says you gave her a hard time when she was interviewing sitters this afternoon."

I was appalled. "N... no! I didn't!" I tried my level best not to snap, but after that nightmare, I couldn't believe she went the extra step to throw me under the bus with Dad.

"Then let's hear your version of the events."

Trembling, I explained the non-stop surprises, her insisting that each of them take a turn at changing me, the shirt/no shirt game, how I tried to just be quiet and stay out of the way.

"Come on, Dad. I mean, how did she expect me to react when she gave me no warning on any of this crap? Am I suppose to be all happy that she's going this far out of her way to humiliate me?!" My tone was rising, despite my best efforts to control it.

"Alright, Bill, that's enough," Dad said firmly, but without malice, as he sat down next to me on the bed. "I'll talk to you mother about it. However, you know more of the same is coming tomorrow, so you need to adjust your attitude. Tonight, I'll order us a pizza, and you can go to bed after dinner."

"Why is she doing this, Dad?"

"You want the truth? If it were me they were calling and dragging out of work all the time to deal with your behavior at school, I'd be a hell of a lot more pissed off than she is right now, and if you had cursed at me like you did her, I'd have slapped the taste out of your mouth. The sooner you quit acting like a delinquent, the better chance you have of her calming down and backing off some of this stuff. Are we on the same page here?"

Truthfully, I would rather my dad kicked my ass a few times and it be over than deal with this nightmare, but I had to concede the point. "Yeah, Dad. I'll try harder tomorrow."

He put his arm around me and said, "I know you will." He looked me up and down, stopping at my crotch area. "You don't need a change, do you?"

I shook my head. "Good. I'll go get you a shirt to put on, and we'll call you when dinner gets here, okay?"

I nodded. He left the room, then returned to the doorway and tossed me one of my longer t-shirts, smiling as he turned to walk back down the stairs.

[WBDaddy]

By the time the pizza arrived, the tone of the conversation downstairs had taken quite an edge as Mom and Dad argued, no doubt about Mom's punishment and what she probably perceived as Dad undermining it. I almost didn't want to come down when Mom yelled up the stairs, knowing me wearing a shirt would no doubt cause even more consternation, but I figured the alternative of disobeying her would be worse. I quickly made my way down the steps and into the kitchen, where Mom and Dad were already sitting at the table. Sure enough, Mom's eyes became slits when she saw how I was dressed, and she shot a look at Dad that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Thankfully, everyone was silent at the table, and I ate quickly, actually looking forward to being sent to bed, if for no other reason than to get away from that whole mess. The only words spoken were right as I was finishing.

"Do you need a change?" Dad piped up.

"I... guess I should, since I'm going to bed."

"I'll be up in a minute."

By the look on her face, this statement disarmed Mom completely, but I didn't stick around to hear a verbal reaction. I ran back up the stairs and waited patiently on my bed until Dad showed up in the doorway a few minutes later.

"Ready?" he asked. I nodded.

He made surprisingly short work of the process, then sat down next to me on the bed again.

"I went to the mat for you tonight, Bill. Please, don't make me regret it."

"I... I won't, Dad."

"Seriously. You give your mom any more shit like you did on Thursday, and I'm stepping out of the way. I don't think I need to tell you what that means."

"No, you don't." I shuddered, recalling the vague threats she'd already made.

"Alright, get some sleep. First interview tomorrow is at nine. I got her to let you keep the shirt as long as you behave yourself."

"Thanks Dad."

I laid down and he covered me up. "Goodnight, Bill."

"Goodnight, Dad."

[WBDaddy]

The next morning, Dad woke me up early, around 7:30, to let me know he was leaving and remind me of my promise to, in essence, let Mom do what she wanted and not make a scene. Mom, surprisingly, let me take a shower before breakfast, which was a welcome privilege, after yesterday's nightmare. I was actually starting to develop a rash, and I was definitely not happy about it. The side benefit of the shower was I got my morning pee out of the way, the first time I'd relieved myself somewhere other than my pants in nearly three days. I almost felt human again, for that brief minute.

After I showered and dried off, Mom diapered me back up and gave me a clean shirt.

"Think we can act like a human being today instead of a troll under a bridge?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes, Mom."

"Good. Let's go eat breakfast so we're ready for the first interview today."

Mom actually gave me regular cereal for breakfast, which made me start to wonder if Dad had really gotten to her a little the night before. Unfortunately, any notion of that was quickly dispelled when the first girl showed up, ten minutes early. Mom launched straight into the routine she'd established, insisting that I be standing and shake the woman's hand when she arrived, sitting me on the floor in front of her as she gave the whole spiel all over again about my delinquency at school, and, of course, insisting that the now-nervous girl demonstrate her ability to change my diaper, despite the fact that I didn't even need it. She fared little better than Melissa, though, bailing out before she managed to get the front of the diaper pulled down.

I began to tune it all out after a while, showing little expression other than a forced smile whenever Mom patted me on the shoulder, as college kid after college kid came and went, either running out of the house in horror as Melissa did, or bursting into uncontrollable giggling, to the point where Mom actually showed one girl the door. I wound up getting changed successfully four times over those first seven interviews, with Mom actually having to change me herself after lunch, since I'd made sure to save my more embarrassing business for a time when I knew there was no chance of a stranger having to clean it up.

Then came the last one. Anita was her name, and she was a svelte brunette with a quiet demeanor about her. She was attentive and responsive as Mom went through the routine, but her face showed nothing but compassion when it came time for the humiliating change, and she was gentle, yet quick throughout the process. I was mesmerized as she continued talking to Mom, occasionally shooting me glances of acknowledgement as she explained her prior experience in a nursing home after high school and in an adult group home the previous two summers. Mom was taken aback at the idea that the girl would be willing to take such a low-paying job after that kind of work, and Anita explained patiently about the burnout, the crazy hours, and the government regulations and other red tape that interfered with her ability to care for her clients.

"Well, you know, there will be some expectations here regarding overnight stays," Mom suggested.

"Of course," Anita said crisply.

"In fact, his father are going to be taking off to Maine for a week in July. Normally we'd take him with us, but we decided when we set out to hire a sitter that we could use some alone time, something one doesn't get much of when one has a teenager around."

"Completely understandable. As long as you can give me a week or so advance notice, I'm completely flexible."

"Well, then, Anita," Mom said as she stood up, "you've got the job! You'll start on Monday, at eight o'clock sharp!"

Anita also stood and shook Mom's hand vigorously. "Thank you, Mrs. Bryant. I'm sure Bill and I will have a great time this summer!"

I was somewhat in awe as I stood up in response to a nudge from Mom's toe, and I reached my hand out reflexively. "Pleasure to meet you, Bill! I'll see you again in a couple days!"

Just like that, she was out the door. And I had a babysitter for the next three months. And... I really didn't mind it all that much.

[diaperpt]

Great additions all around! I love the collaboration.

[willnotwill]

Debbie's story continued:

Mom didn't say much when I showed her the paperwork. She just asked if I had enough diapers. I did.

Monday came along and it was time to diaper up. I put the diaper on and pulled on the dress and off I went. As with the first time, I was excited. The air on my legs up to the bulk of the diaper was exhilarating. I was naughty and nobody else knew. When I had to go late in the day I went. Again I checked around, but nobody knew. The second day was equally good. I didn't worry about peeing before school. I wet myself during second period but decided to keep in the wet diaper until lunch. Walking down the hall I felt the weight and increased bulk of the now wet diaper. A little dampness while seated heightened the situation.

Walking to lunch I met Bill coming the other way. I patted the front of my dress over the diaper. Did he notice? Would he understand what I was getting at?

This was the first day I had ever changed at school. Mr. Dennis had showed me a small room when I checked in. It had a lot of cubby holes where we could store our diapers and a couple of small rooms we could change in. I went in, set a sheet of paper provided on the hard changing table and did a quick change. I could get used to this I thought. It was way better than using the bathroom even without the added benefit of the charge it was giving me.

Wednesday the world changed for me. By the middle of first period I began to cramp. I became aware that I was going to have to poop. I needed to use the bathroom, but it was forbidden to me. I did my best to hold it in but moving between third and forth period classes I had to succumbed. At first I felt relief that the pressure was gone in my bowels but soon the sticky mess mushroomed through the diaper over my rear. I didn't have time to make it to change so I moved to class and sat down gingerly. I smooched into the mess. I was disgusted. Here I was sitting in a pile of my own shit and it had been entirely of my own doing. As I sat there I also began to realize that I was beginning to smell. Finally the bell rang and I moved as fast as I could to the changing room. It took a whole package of wipes to clean myself up. It was truly disgusting wiping poop off myself. I put the replacement diaper off and scrubbed my hands. Leaving the room I almost crash headlong into Bill. He's standing there in his diaper smiling. I can't look at him and run out.

My world has changed. This isn't exciting or fun anymore. I just want out and back in panties. I want to be allowed to use the toilet. I don't want to look at Bill in his diaper. I don't want to have anything to do with this disgusting pastime anymore. Problem is I still have two more days of this. It's not something I'm anymore looking forward to. I spend my last two days. It's no fun. Even peeing brings shame to me, the weight and wetness reminding me of how stupid I've been. If I never see a diaper again it will be too soon.