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willnotwill

For Sarah Penguin: Captain Continency and Forces of Evil

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I don’t remember other than being a normal kid until the incident in the second grade.    I remember sitting at my desk working on some school work independently.   I suddenly had to go, and I raised my hand to ask permission, but as I did, it started to come out.   I escaped notice, or so I thought and ran down to the bathroom to finish, but my pants were a bit damp.

This happened a few more times.   I was hoping that nobody was noticing, but one day as I stood up, Rose, the girl who sat across from me called out, “Billy wet his pants!”   The whole class turned to look at me and started to laugh and point.   I wanted to die.   I started to cry, and I wet further.   Finally, the teacher pushed me out of the room and down to the nurse’s office.

My mother was called, and she showed up shortly with a change of clothes.   While I was changing, I could hear the nurse and my mother talking.    “He’s been wetting the bed,” I heard her say.   I had thought I’d covered that up as well.   I wasn’t able to make out much of the rest.   Finally, I returned to class dejected.   I heard snickering as I made my way back to my desk.

When I got home, my mother was waiting.   “What are we going to do with you?”   I didn’t answer.  I didn’t have an answer, and I figured the question was rhetorical.   “We can’t have you going around wetting  your pants like a baby.”

One morning my mother announced I was going to the doctor.  “I don’t want to see the doctor.   I don’t want a shot.”  As far as I was concerned that was the usual outcome.

“This is a special doctor,” mom explained.  “He’s not going to give you a shot.   He’s going to find out why you wet the bed.”   Well, I was happy I wasn’t getting a shot, but I didn’t want to go into the whole wet the bed thing.   I’d rather not think of it.

Anyhow, I met with the doctor.   He was a gently spoken man.   He referred me to tests, and I spent the day getting checked out.    The total.   He had no idea.   He gave my mom a prescription for a nasal spray I was supposed to take before bed.   Some sort of magic stuff.   He gave me a special watch.   This I was interested in.   However, what it did was tell me periodically to go to the bathroom.   Great.

On the way home, we stopped off at the pharmacy.   While we were waiting for the nasal spray to be ready, she took me down an aisle.   The diaper aisle!   “I don’t want diapers!” I protested.

“Shush,” Mom countered.   “You won’t get diapers as long as you don’t fuss.”   She went passed the regular diapers and stared at the packages.    She picked one up.   The package said Bed Mats.    You can sleep on these, and it won’t damage the mattress if you wet.   OK, I thought.  That’s OK.   She picked up another bag.

“Look dear.   They have Spiderman ones.”   GoodNites bedtime pants.   I looked at the package.   They tried to make them look like underwear, but I knew what they were.   Ugh.   We got both packages and returned to the pharmacy and rang things up.

That night I went to bed on top of the mat and with my new Spiderman underpants.   It felt weird, but I figured it was better than nothing.    The stuff up my nose burned a little.   This went on a few nights.   I remember waking up one morning and heading to the bathroom.    I guess I had neglected to lock the door as my sister came barging in.   I quickly pulled up the goodnite.

“Pull-ups!  Pull-ups,” she cried.   “I’m a big boy now!”  She was mimicking the commercial.

“They’re spiderman underwear,” I protested.

“They’re pull-ups!”

Now I might have lived with this if the nose drops had worked or if the goodnites and the mat had been sufficient.   But there were times the goodnite leaked, and I wasn’t over the mat when it happened.    Mom just clucked as she changed the bedding.   Worse, I was wetting during the day again.

“Are you going to the bathroom on time,” my mother would ask.   I swore I was.   In fact, I hated the stupid watch.   The alarm was a constant reminder that I was different than anybody else.   I tried to go to the bathroom whenever I could, but I hid the thing in my backpack.

I had other noticeable pants wetting and was again sent to the nurse.   Again my mother came.    She brought a goodnite with her this time and dry pants.   I was admonished to try harder.    The next morning I took off my goodnite, now wet as usual.   I went to find my regular underwear to get ready for school, and I couldn’t find them.

“Mom, I can’t find any underwear.”

My mother came into the room.   “Your father and I think it’s probably best if you wear goodnites from now on.”

“But they’re bed pants,” I protested.

“They’ll keep you from wetting your pants,” Mom countered.   There was no arguing.   No more underwear for me.   Ugh.   I headed off to school with a goodnite on.   At least nobody knew I had them on.

I had another night where I wet through the goodnite.   The next evening before bed mom came in.  “I’ve got a different kind of pant for you tonight.”    I was apprehensive.   I got panicked when I saw it.

“That’s a diaper,” I protested.

“It’s an incontinent pant,” my mother countered.

“I don’t want to wear it.   I’ll wear the goodnite.”

“No dear,” she said forcefully.    I let her tape it in place.    No mistaking it, no matter what it was called, I was wearing a diaper.

At this point, the story wouldn’t end up being much different than other kids.   There were plenty of kids wearing goodnites during the day and a few wearing diapers to bed.   Other than a little ribbing from my sister, life wasn’t too bad other than not knowing why this was happening.   Then one day I wet through the good night at school.    My crotch was dry but wet crescents formed on my pants where the leg holes were.    Once again, I was sent to the nurse, and my mother brought me clean clothes.   There was a more hushed conversation before I was sent back to class.

Weeks later it happened again.    It was close to the end of the day when I ended up in the nurse’s office.   There was the usual phone call to mom, and then the nurse hung up.

“Is my mom coming?” I asked.

“No, son.”

I didn’t know what to make of that.   She went to a cabinet and then came back to me.   “Lie down on the cot for me,” she asked.

I did what I was told.    She unfastened my pants and pulled them off.    She then pulled off the soaked goodnite.    I was embarrassed by being naked there.    She then brought an item up to me.   “No!” I screamed.   “I don’t want a diaper!”

“I’m sorry dear.   But the goodnites don’t seem to be doing it for you.   You’re wetting more than they can handle.”    I started to cry again as she fitted the thing on me.      She picked up my pants and put them in a plastic bag as I had seen her do with my wet clothes before.    She handed them back to me.

She looked up at the clock.   I followed her look.   It was now five minutes before dismissal.    “You can wait here until it’s time for the bus.”   I thought a second.   My pants.

“What about my pants?”

“It’s a warm day.   Your mother says you can just go home as you are.”

I started to cry as it hit me.   They expected me to go out wearing just a diaper in front of everyone.   I couldn’t imagine how bad it was going to be, but I was going to find out.    I got to the bus ahead of everybody else and went way to the back and sat down and set the plastic bag with my pants down on my lap.   I was hoping to escape notice.    It worked until it was my stop.   I tried to nonchalantly make my way off the bus.   At first, it seemed to work.    Nothing happened until I reached the very front of the bus and then I heard it.”

“He’s wearing a diaper.   Billy’s wearing a diaper!”

The taunt progressed through the bus.   “Diaper boy!   Diaper boy!”   I ran down the steps, off the bus, and all the way home.   I was crying inconsolably.   How could they do this to me?

Indeed.    I wore diapers from that moment forward.   Mind you I had pants on, but the damage had been done.   I was diaper boy and retained that name.   When I got to middle school, it was refreshed a new when we had to change for gym class, and the locker room saw what the nature of my underwear was.   I cried a lot which didn’t help dispel the impression that I was just a big baby.   My life was hell.

My life turned again in high school.   It was the first day.   I was hoping that things would be better in the new school.   Of course, I was still diapered.   In a week or so, gym class would start again, and all the students who didn’t already know would see my diaper again.   At least today didn’t seem too bad until dismissal.

I walked out to the buses to find it was pouring down rain.   Oh, hell, I thought.    No raincoat, no umbrella, I was going to get wet.    I got off the bus and walked the block towards my house.    I was getting soaked.   Oddly, my insides were dry.   The diaper was working both ways.   I’d just about made it home when there was an odd hiss.  This was followed by a bright light and a large crack, and then I don’t remember what came next.

I remember my mother shaking me.    I opened my eyes to see her and my sister standing over me.    I tried to sit up.   “What happened?” I asked.   I looked around, and I could smell smoke.

“I think a lightning bolt hit that big tree over there,” my mother said.   I looked a the tree, and it was split down the middle.   It was smoldering a bit which was what I was smelling.    She helped me to my feet.  “Do you feel OK?” she asked.

I shook myself.    I was cold and wet, but I didn’t feel too bad.    I just sort of ached all over.   “Just wet,” I said.   We made it to the house, and I went upstairs and stripped out of all my wet clothes.   I ripped off the diaper.    I noticed something.   While it was wet on the outside, there wasn’t a trace of wetness on the inside.   It was like I hadn’t used it.   I shrugged and through it in the pail and got a fresh one and then put on dry clothes.

I came downstairs, and my mom again asked how I was.   I told her other than being a little sore I was fine.    She checked on me again before I went to bed, but I was still fine.    I slept soundly that night.

The alarm went off the next morning.   Time to get ready for school.   I had to pee very badly, so I took the diaper off before heading to the bathroom.    I had to check it twice.   It was dry.   I hadn’t wet the bed last night.     Odd.   I went to the bathroom and peed and got ready for the day.    After lunch, I had to pee again.   I went to the restroom and into a stall and untapped the diaper and sat down and peed.   As I did so, I examined the diaper.   It was still dry.

And so it went.   I had dry diaper after dry diaper.   Whatever had happened, just getting older or getting struck by lightning, I wasn’t wetting anymore.    I gave it another day.   I went to my mother and explained my dryness to her.   She expressed surprise.   “Well, I hope it works out for you.   You’re really getting too old for diapers,” she said like that wasn’t obvious.

I requested underwear right away, but she turned me down.   The downside was that I’d start gym class in the diaper again.     It was soon the first day to dress out, and I got to the gym as fast as I could hoping to change before other’s got there.   I got my gym shorts out and quickly pulled my pants off in hopes of getting the shorts pulled up before people noticed.

“He’s wearing a diaper,” I heard.  I had now gotten the shorts on but not soon enough.

“Diaper boy, diaper boy,” a boy I hadn’t met before was taunting next to me.   I screwed my eyes shut and made a fist determined not to cry.   I thought to myself, how would you like it if you wet your pants.  

My eyes were still shut when I heard someone else cry, “Look he’s wetting his pants.”   I looked down at my shorts but they were dry, and I felt dry.   Then I realized the comments were directed at someone else.   I looked over at the boy who had been taunting me, and he was staring in awe at his crotch.   A large wet spot had formed.    I got my shirt on and got out of the locker room.

That was strange.   I was thinking about the boy experience wetting and he wet.   That was a strange coincidence.    We were playing basketball.   I missed an easy shot, and someone said “Nice airball, diaper boy.”   I stared at him and balled up my firsts again.   And then I saw it.    A stain was starting to form on his shorts.    I snapped out of my concentration, and he realized he was starting to wet and ran towards the bathroom in a panic.

Was I actually causing this? I wondered.    Did I have the power to make people wet their pants?    I figured it was just coincidence.   It was just probably the power of suggestion.     That night I was brushing my teeth.   My sister came in and got ready to brush hers.    I was getting ready for bed, so I was just in my diaper and t-shirt.

“What’s up, diaper boy?” she said.   She wasn't mean.  It was just the term she had adopted for me.    I ignored it as usual.     I rinsed my mouth and headed from the room.   As I left the room, I paused.    Sis was as good as anybody to test on.   She’d been tormenting for years.    I watched her as she busied herself brushing.   I stood back and made a fist.   Wet yourself and see how it feels I thought.

Nothing happened.   Yeah, just a coincidence and wishful thinking.   Then she sprayed toothpaste at the mirror as she cried “Oh my god, oh my god.”   She turned, and I could see her pajamas were wet in the crotch.   She slammed the bathroom door shut.   I sat down hard on the floor.

I had made her pee.   I had made the others pee.   What had happened?   Was it the lightning.    In addition to not wetting myself was I now invested with the superpower to make others wet their pants.   This was definitely strange.

The next morning we were at the breakfast table.    “Have a dry night?” I said quietly to my sister.

“You’re one to talk, diaper boy,” she retorted.   I backed off.   I waited a minute and made a fist.    Time to wet, dear sister.    I watched her face intently.    I saw it.    She bolted out of her chair and ran out of the room.    I’m pretty sure she was wet.    Her wearing different pants when she returned confirmed it.

We got our books and headed out to school.     I spoke to her just before we headed our separate ways.  “Better be nice to me from now on, or you’ll be wetting a lot more.”

A week went by, and I finally convinced my mom to let me try underwear again.    She got one package of three, and after three days of not wetting them or the bed, she allowed me a complete set.   I was happy.   Hopefully, this would all blow over now.

“Did mommy buy baby training pants?” my sister jabbed at me later.

“They’re regular underwear.   I don’t wet anymore.”

“You’ll always be diaper boy to me,” she said.

“I warned you,” I said.    I made the fist and concentrated.    A stain rapidly appeared on my sister’s crotch.   “Mom, Sissy is wetting her pants.”

Mom came running in and saw that indeed I was telling the truth.    “He did it to me,” my sister yelled.

“I didn’t touch her,” I protested.

“Don’t be rediculous.   How can he make you wet your pants?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know how but he did.   He did it yesterday and this morning, too.”

“Go get cleaned up, dear.”  Sis stormed from the room.

“She can have my diapers,” I suggested.

Indeed things blew over.    I rarely heard any mention of diapers at school anymore.    I started to have some real friends.   I even thought about girls.   There was one, in particular, Mary.    We had a lot of the same classes, and I spent a lot of time watching her.    How could I get her to notice me, I thought.

One day I was walking down the hall after school.   I had photography club that day.    I had ten minutes before the activity bus left.    It was then I saw Mary and a boy standing in one of the alcoves leading to a classroom.

“Leave me alone!” I heard Mary protest.   I saw her try to push past the boy, but he blocked her path and pushed her back.   She struggled further.    

I sprung into action.    I grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled.   “She said to leave her alone.”

He was bigger than me, and he turned and just threw me aside.   “Get outta my way you little shit,” he said.

I grew angry.  My fists balled up.   I’ll show you shit, I thought.    I heard what I thought was a fart.   Then I definitely could smell it.    He just stood there with his mouth open as he couldn’t believe what had just happened.   Mary pushed past him, and he started walking oddly down the hall due to the load in his pants.

Mary came over to me.   “Are you OK?” she asked.

I got to my feet.   “Yeah, I’m OK.   You?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m OK.   Thanks for getting that guy off me,” she said.

“I don’t think I did much good,” I said.

“Well, you distracted him so I could get away.   I don’t know what happened to him after that.”

“It smelled like he crapped his pants,” I suggested.

She giggled.   She had a beautiful smile.    “I was thinking the same thing.    He smelled pretty bad, but he might have just had a smelly fart.”

“Well, we can imagine that he did poop.”

“I’m Mary,” she said continuing the laughing.

“Jake,” I said.

“Going home on the activity bus?” she asked.   I nodded.   “Let’s sit together.”

I was in heaven.    I had vanquished the villain with my superpower that made him crap his pants, and I won the heart of the girl.   This sounded like a massively comic book.   Tune in next time when Captain Continency one again fights the forces of evil.

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My sister continued to be a pain.   She just wouldn’t let it drop, so I would wake up in the morning and give her a little karma.    She’d wake up to a wet bed any morning following a day she’d teased me.   It began to attract my mother’s attention.   I was hoping she’d be wearing the diapers in the house now.

One evening Sis started in on me again.   She blamed me for her bedwetting.   It was preposterous, except that It was true.    I pretended that she was insane.    Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.    “If I had that power over you, I’d not just make you pee; I’d make you poop your pants.”

That took the wind out of her sail a bit.   She stopped to consider the logic of that.   She didn’t have a snappy retort for that, so she just turned and walked away.    I let her get a few steps and then let her have it.   She dumped in her panties.   She snapped around to look at me.   I just smiled.

“Mom!   Billy made me poop my pants!”

Mom came in, and it was clear that Sis had pooped.   She sent her off to clean up.

“I wish you wouldn’t provoke your sister,” Mom admonished.

“Me?   She’s the one who has teased me nonstop about me wetting for years.    Now, she’s wetting, and she blames me.   I didn’t say anything to her.”

“Just try your best not to antagonize her.”

I couldn’t believe it.   My parents acted like my wetting was my fault.   Now Sis’s problems were all my fault.    I went to bed, but the injustice of it all kept me awake.   I tossed and turned.    Served them right if they all wet their beds.

The next morning I came down and fixed my breakfast.   My mom passed through the kitchen toward the laundry with an armload of bedsheets.   Oops, I had caused one or both of my parents to wet in my rage.   I needed to be careful about that.

The good news is that Mary and I were hitting it off well.   We spent more time with each other.    Friday came, and we decided to go to the school Football game together.    I met her at the field, and we headed to the concession stand for hot dogs and drinks.   Heading for our seats a cheerleader came up to Mary.

“Hi, Mary,” the girl said.

“Uh, hi Veronica,” Mary replied without much enthusiasm.

“I see you’re going out with Wet Willie, the diaper boy.”   There was a definite smirk on her face.

“Come on,” Mary said to me.   “Ignore her.”
“Yes, come on, Eric,” she said to a male cheerleader standing behind her, and they headed

Wet got to our seats.   “What was that all about?” I asked.

“Oh, Veronica and I have been rivals since we were in elementary school.   She’s a real bitch.   She has been insufferable since she beat me out for the cheerleader squad and for the attention of Eric.   Why did she call you that?”

“I used to have a problem with wetting.   I’ve outgrown that.   Kids used to tease me a lot, and occasionally some still do.   I was Diaper Boy or Wet Willie forever.”

“Figures she’d dig up dirt on my boyfriend.   Why Willie?”

“My name’s William Jacob Martin.   I decided when I got to high school I’d remake myself and use Jake instead of Billy.”

“It suits you.   I like it.”   Mary smiled.   “I just hate that Veronica.    I’d love to get even with her.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Keep an eye on her.   Especially her legs.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

The cheerleaders were down on the track that circled the football field doing various cheers and flips and thing.    Then Eric hoisted Veronica up, and she sat her rear cradled in his upstretched hand.    I concentrated.

The next thing she was on the ground again.    Eric was shaking his hand in disgust trying to get the pee off it.    Veronica stood there dazed.   Her left leg glistened with pee.    More fell straight down from her skirt.   A large puddle formed on the track at her feet.   She ran off.

“Did you do that?” Mary asked me.   “What did you do?”

“She peed herself.    Yes, I made it happen.”

“How?”

“Well, I don’t know.    I didn’t just grow out of wetting.   I got struck by lightning.   After it happened, I could make others wet.”

“Who have you done it to?”

“People who teased me about my wetting.   A couple of boys in gym class.   My sister.   Mild managed Jake Martin by day, Captain Continency by night.   Striking terror into the hearts of the evil.”

We both broke into laughter at the last one.

“And that boy that was giving you a hard time the day we met…” I started

“He really did poop his pants?” Mary said with recognition.   I nodded.   We laughed again.

“My hero,” she said throwing her arms around me and giving me a big kiss.   I could get used to this.

We watched the game and had fun.    Our team was behind but managed to pull to a one-point lead late in the game.   The other team had the ball and had advanced toward our end zone.    There were just a few seconds on the clock.    They sent in their field goal team.

“Well, boys and girls, it comes down to this.   North high has time for one play.   They make this field goal, and they win the game.    Here’s the snap.   The kick.   He shanked it.   The Eagles win! The Eagles win!”

The stands went wild.    I watched with a smug look as the disgusted kicker walked oddly off the field.   The beginnings of a brown stain started to appear on his uniform pants.

“Did you do something to that kicker?” Mary asked.

“I may have distracted him during the kick.”

“You should use your power only against the forces of evil.   Opposing football players are not evil.”   She gave me a stern look.    Then we both broke into laughter.

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I had stopped by Mary’s house after school one day.    Her mohter served us cookies.

“So how does it work?” she asked.

“I just have to think real hard to do it.    The first few times I was just mad because I was being teased and I wished the teasers would wet their pants and it happened.   After a while I practiced on my sister and even myself to get It under control.”

“You did it to yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s it like?”

“You want to know?     Go sit on the toilet like you’re going to go but don’t.    Let me know when you are ready.”

She went into the bathroom.   Through the door I heard, “I’m ready.”

I gave her a quick burst of pee.   I heard an “ooh” behind the door.   Then I gave her a longer one.    After a minute or so I let her rear loose.

“You, OK?”  I asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’m done,” I said.

“I’ll be right out.”

We put on the TV and caught a news item.    “That’s the guy who raped those little girls,” Mary sasid.   We listened.   The case against him was apparently thrown out on some technicality.

“We go live to the courthouse,” the TV said.    The scene was a man in a suit speaking into a set of microphones.    The rapist with a smug extension was standing to his side.

“I am happy the court ruled on the violation of my clients rights.   I’d like to say that we were prepared to go to trial and would my client would have been found innocent as he is.”

“What bull,” Mary said.   “He kept the girls panties in his pocket.    Look at his smirk.  He’s probably thinking of the next girl.”

Mary thought a second and then said, “What’s the range on your power?”

I hadn’t really thought about it but I gave it a try.   I made tight fists and concentrated.   I opened both sphincters.    “I think it’s working,” Mary said.     I looked at the screen and the smirk was gone.   He looked confused.    He bolted from the scene.    The lawyer was confused and stopped talking as the cameras whirled around to try to follow the fleeing man.

“Well, that was a tiny bit of justice,” Mary said.

“Yeah, he better get used to diapers. “

“How so?”

“When I open someone’s sphincters, I have to also close them again.     He ran away before I did that.    He’s going not going to have control.”

We laughed.   “Hopefully that should thwart furhter attacks on little girls.”

“Captain Continency strikes another blow to evil!”

 

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