Porch Pirate

[willnotwill]

 PORCH PIRATE

“Fuck,” I said to myself and then for good measure I said it out loud.   “Fuck.”   I sat there resigned in my car outside my storage locker looking at the police car in the rearview mirror.   The officer was walking my way.    I had thought he was trying to pass me when he activated his lights as I was turning into the complex.

I can’t afford even a ticket.   But I suspect there was more to it than this.

“License, please,” then “Can you step out of the vehicle,” the officer said as he approached my rolled down the window.   I complied.   He walked me to the rear of the car.

“Can I ask where you’ve been for the last hour?”

“Just out running errands,” I tried.

“Uh, huh.   Can you tell me what those packages are in the back seat of the car?”

I knew I was beyond a traffic ticket.    Another police car pulled in and then a plain car with two men in suits.   The officer instructed me to stay put and went back and joined the huddle now forming.   One of the suits came forward.

“Do you want to tell me about the packages in your car?    I can see names on some of them.    Names that don’t appear to be yours.”

I sighed.  “I think I better exercise the right to remain silent.”

“Probably not a bad idea.    You’re going to be placed under arrest in a minute.   Is this your storage locker?”  

I paused not saying anything.

“My partner is up at the office checking with the manager.   We’ll get a warrant to search it.”

I was sunk.   He went back to the huddle of the officers.   I remained leaning against my car pondering my situation.    How low could I get?    I had lost my job two months ago and burned up what little savings I had.   I got evicted, and I moved my belongings into this locker and had been living in my car.    I had come up with this idea of making a little money.   I’d pick up boxes, always ones from Amazon or places I knew would cover the person who I was stealing from.    Some of them were things I need.   Some I could sell.  The rest I stuck into the locker until I could figure out what to do.     

I was taken to jail and booked.     The magistrate decided in the spirit of the Christmas season not to make me post a bond.    I was released on my own recognizance.   I looked at the wall on the public side of the jail.   Tons of cards for various related professionals had been jammed in every cranny around the signs and window frames, mostly bail bond companies but there were a few attorneys.   One caught my eye.

“Just because you did it doesn’t mean you’re guilty.”

I snatched it up.    I’d give this guy a call.

I met with him the next day and dumped my whole story on him.   He just sat there and nodded his head and made notes.   When I finished, he smiles briefly.   “Not to worry.   I mean you are in trouble, but you’re not going to jail.     I’ll work with the DA and see what proof he has.   Mostly that’s going to be the boxes in your car and any items in the locker they can positively identify as being stolen.   However, that will be hard since you threw away the shipping boxes.   Unless they have some witness or video of you, that’s all they had.”

I started to feel better.

“Besides, it’s Christmas, and Judge Green isn’t that much of a hard-ass to lock you up.”

A few days later I was in court for what was supposed to be a preliminary hearing.    Just as the formalities started my lawyer stood up and called for a sidebar.    He and the DA went up to the judge and talked privately for a minute and then returned.    My attorney turned to me and told me to say “Yes, your honor” to all the questions.

My attorney made a motion to waive the preliminary hearing, and that was approved without objection.    He then entered a plea of guilty.   The judge asked me several questions about whether I had done things and that I had advice of my lawyer and that I understood it all.   I didn’t know if I did, but I just answered “Yes, your honor,” to all of them.

“Does the state have anything?” the Judge asked.

The DA passed up a form.   “This is a list of the unrecovered items that we know the defendant stole. The rest has been returned to the owners.   There are also a few things that were recovered but can’t be returned for various reasons that remain in the state’s custody.   Those are noted at the bottom.”

The judge turned to me.   “I understand you are currently unemployed and living out of your car?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“OK, I sentence you to one year of probation.   I also remand you to the county alternative housing program until such time as a reasonable abode can be found for you.   I order restitution be made in the sum of,”  he consulted the paper, “$2,432.   Which you will pay in addition to the court costs and probation fees. “   He grabbed a highlighter off his desk and drew a few lines on the paper on his desk.

“You will report to the probation office, fifth floor of this building immediately.”   He banged the gavel.   It was over.   I  turned to the lawyer.   “Alternative housing?”

“Halfway house.    You need a place to live.   It isn’t jail.    More like staying at the YMCA.   I told you Green wasn’t a hard ass.”

I went upstairs to the probation office.    It was a zoo of people like me waiting to see their officers.   I signed in at the desk and was told to wait as it would be a bit before my paperwork got up from the courtroom.    Hell, I wasn’t going anywhere.

A bit over an hour later and I was getting hungry.   But I heard a voice call my name.    I looked up and saw a woman standing holding a file.   I waved and went over to her, and she led me to an office.

“I’m Helen Green, and I’ll be your probation officer.”

“Like Judge Green?” I blurted out.

She looked annoyed at me.   “Please don’t interrupt.   But yes, he’s my father.”

She then laid out the rules.    She owned my life for the next year.   I’d be living at the halfway house until I found a job and could get into an apartment.   I would start making payments on the fees and restitution as I was able.     It seemed rigid but fair.    “Plus,” she said.  “You will comply with any other instructions I give you.    Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.   You do drugs?”

“No, ma’am.”

“We’ll see about that.   Follow me.”

She led me down to a small room.   It had a sink and a toilet, but it was more like a doctor’s examining room than a bathroom.   “Strip.”

I was a bit shocked, but I started to comply.   I got down to my boxers, and she stared impatiently.    I got them off.   I reddened a bit from the embarrassment.    She handed me a plastic cup.     Now, I realized.   I went and stood by the toilet and tried for a few seconds and finally got a stream going to fill the cup to the mark.    I relieved the rest into the toilet.   It was strange having the woman watching me pee.

“Place the cup on that table and then wash your hands.”

I did as instructed.

“You can have a seat,” she offered.   She didn’t offer to allow me to dress.

She pulled on rubber gloves and opened up some packages.  She dipped something into the cup waited a bit and then stared at it.    She disposed of it all.   Pouring the urine into the toilet and dumping the rest into a red trash can.   Removed her gloves and proceeded to wash her hands.

She then returned to me.   “OK, you're clean.    That’s one thing I won’t have to deal with.    I can have you retested at any time during your probation, so don’t start.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

There was a knock at the door and another woman passed in two packages.   “Are these what you wanted?” she asked Helen.

“Yes, thank you.   And could you bring that yellow case from my office to me.”   The woman agreed and left.

Helen presented the two items to me.   “Do you recognized these?” she asked.   I shook my head.

“These are part of the stolen property found in your possession.”   I looked at them again.   I  guess they may have been.   “Given their medical nature, we couldn’t return them to the rightful owners.    You’ll have to reimburse them.”

I had no idea where this was going.    She tore open one of the packages and extracted one item and held it up.   “Do you know what this is?”

I looked at it.    “I guess it looks like a big diaper?” I meekly said.

“It is a big diaper.  Get up on the table.”

She slid the thing under me and then did it up.    She told me to sit up again, and it was clear I was now in a diaper.

“As I said, I can add conditions to your probation.    Judge Green.   Daddy, if you wish, sent you to me because he saw these items on your inventory.”   She showed me the paper with the highlighted items that the judge had marked.   It was the two packages of adult diapers.    “He gives cases like yours to me as it’s a specialty of mine.    Let me make it simple for you.   You will wear diapers for the next year.   If you don’t, you WILL go to jail.”

I gulped.   This was a bigger sentence than the one the judge handed down.   Diapers?  For a year?

“Don’t worry.   You’ll get used to it.   They all do.”

“They do?”

“You’re not so special.    You’re not the first criminal I’ve had in diapers.”    The woman returned and entered without knocking.   She was carrying what appeared to be a toolbox.    “Thanks, Gwen,” she said.

“I see you have another one,” Gwen said looking at me giggling.

Helen ignored her and opened the box.   She sorted through the contents and pulled out something.   It was a large pair of panties.    I realized they were made of some sort of plastic.   “Pull these on.”

I stepped into them and pulled them up.   She came to me and snapped something at the waistband behind me.   “You are now locked in.    Don’t try to remove them.    You can get dressed now.     The receptionist will arrange transportation to the house.    I’ll arrange to have your diaper changed later.

“Diaper changed?” I said to myself, but I guess it was loud enough for her to hear.

“Yes.  If you haven’t figured it out.    You are to use the diaper from now on.    If you are reasonably compliant, we’ll forgo the locking pants, but for now, they’re to make sure you don’t take the diaper off.   Besides, with time you’ll get so you don’t even think about it before you go.

“You mean?” I started.

“You’ll likely be incontinent.   Don’t worry.   Most of my charges don’t have any problem getting potty trained after their probation is up.”

I cringed at the word “potty.”    “Most?”

She smiled slyly.   “I’ve got a few who have got, what you might call, a life sentence.”

She reached over and picked up my boxers and dropped them in the trash and then did the same with her gloves.   She shook my hand.    “Good luck.   I’ll be in touch.   After you’re dressed, see the receptionist.”

She left, and I looked down at my plastic encased midsection.   Life sentence?    What had I gotten myself into?

After another hour I was in the lobby of the halfway house.   Another woman greeted me and took me into a room with larger lockers.    “Place your clothes in the locker.    When you leave the building, you can sign out here and get dressed.  When you return, sign in and undress.   Our residents do not wear street clothes.”    I got undressed except for the plastic pants over diapers.

She led me into the residence proper.   There were indeed other men there.   They sat around in their underwear.   None were in diapers, mostly in some sort of briefs of various colors.   She led me to a door and opened it.   Inside, was a desk and a bed.   “This is your room.   The bathroom is down the hall,” she started and then cut herself off.   “I forgot, you’re not going to need that.”

She left.   I just sat on the bed thinking about the whole thing.   I was hungry and scared.   A young man wearing black briefs showed up and knocked on the frame.   “New here?   I’m Mack.”

“Jake,” I answered.

“I see you’re one of Helen’s boys,” he said looking at my pants.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Let me show you around.”   He showed me the common area with the TV, a smaller room with some computers, the dining room.

“When do we eat?” I asked.   “I’m starving.  Didn’t have lunch.”

“Dinner’s in an hour,”   He led me to another room.   “This is my room.”   He opened up a drawer and threw me a candy bar.   “You can pay me back.”   I was grateful.

I just sat there eating the bar.   After a while, I heard a chime.   Dinner.   Everybody sat around the tables in the dining room, and food came out family style.   It was pretty good, and there was a good amount of it.   “New guy,” I heard realizing I was being addressed.   “You can do dish duty.    We take turns, but you can have mine to pay me back for the candy.”    I helped another guy, Jim, I found out his name clear the tables and load up the dishwashers and clean the pots.   All through this, I realized that I had to pee.

I went back to my room and sat down.   The pain in my bladder grew more intense.    I tried to go but couldn’t.   I finally stood up and closed my eyes.   I felt the warm wetness spread through my crotch.   Crikes, I was peeing my pants intentionally.   I felt the weight of so much water now on the outside sagging the diaper.

About nine o’clock a woman came in carrying several items.   “I’m here to change your diaper.”

She spread a pad on my bed.  She extracted a key and unlocked my pants and slid them to the floor.   She directed me to the pad.   She tore the tapes of the diaper and removed it.    “This is a pretty lousy diaper.   You should have stolen a better brand.”   I tried to ignore the comment.    She was wiping me, and my penis grew erect.   “You’re not supposed to be enjoying this.   But, I guess there are all kind of weirdos in the world.”    She put the new diaper in place.   “Get back in the rubber pants,” she said.   I stepped into them, and she did them up and locked them.   Then she was gone.

I decided to try to sleep at that point.    Weirdo?   Loss of toilet training?   What was to become of me.

I awoke in the morning.    It took me a second to realize where I was.    On the whole, the bed was better than sleeping in my car.    Then I realized I had to pee and remembered the diaper.   Oh, hell.    I stood up and got the flow going easier this time.     A chime sounded for breakfast.    I was back in my room after breakfast sitting in the soggy diaper when I heard voices.

“How’d he do?”

“He had a wet one last night.   Haven’t checked this morning.   Those ones he’s wearing aren’t very absorbent.”

“We’ll get him some better ones before he goes out.”

Helen walked into my room.

“Well, how is it going.”

“OK, I guess.    I’ve wet them again this morning if you’re curious.”

“I’m not.    It’s to be expected.    I’m here to tell you about what I expect for you for job searching.”

She laid it out for me.   The unemployment office had web services I could check on the computer for.   I should find at least three today to apply for.   If I was lucky, I might get an interview.”

She changed my diaper and then was gone.   I waited my turn for a computer and spent the morning looking at listings.   I applied for six.   Hell.   I did need a job.   And though this place wasn’t bad, I wanted out.    Lunch came and went.  After lunch, I had another needed diaper change.

“No, poopy yet?” the woman stated examining the removed diaper.   “If you don’t go soon, we’ll have to give you something for that.”

Ugh.   I’d suppressed the idea of having to poop in the diaper.   I resolved to put that off as long as possible.    I hung around the common area playing cards with the other guys.   Other than these guys being in their undies and me in a diaper it was like staying at the Y I guess.

The next day I spent more time on the computer looking for jobs and making applications.    More wet diapers but I withheld having to poop.

Helen came by the next day.   I proudly told her that I had over a dozen applications and not just junk ones.   These were jobs I thought I could get.

“That’s good progress.   I do have one concern though.”

What hadn’t I done right?

“You’ve not pooped yet.”

“I’ve not needed to.”

“It’s been three days.   I better help.”

Great I thought.   Helen had me on the bed and removed my wet diaper.    She reached into her purse and came out with a package and peeled it open.    I felt something being pushed into my rear end.
“This will help.   Try to hold it for at least ten minutes.”    She did up the diaper and left.

“Try to hold it?”   That’s all I’ve been doing.    A few minutes passed, and I felt a burning in my rear and then the pressure building.   After a few minutes of agony, I succumbed and let nature take its course.   At first, I was relieved at the easing of the pressure.     Then I felt the mass of poop, constrained by the diaper mushroom around my ass.   This was terrible.   The chime rang.   Lunch.   I made my way to the lunch room and had little choice.    I sat down smooshing it into my rear even more.   Great.   Here I am sitting in a pile of my own feces for no good reason.   How could this be worse?

Mack leaned over.  “You stink,” he said.

That was worse.

With great relief, the jailer came in and changed my diaper.   “I see we’re making progress,” she said noting the mess I had made.

Just great.   I heard my name being called out.   I went up front.   “Phone for you.”

I picked it up.  I answered with my name.   “Hello, Jacob.  My name is William West at Sabasys.   You applied for a  job here, and I was wondering if you could come in some time this afternoon for an interview.”

I cupped my hand over the phone and turned to the attendant.  “Job interview, this afternoon.”

“We’ll get you there.”

I made the arrangements with Mr. West.   The attendant told me that Helen had left interview clothes in my locker.    I went over and found a suit, dress shirt, and all the other things I needed.    I got dressed.    I was driven over to the interview and felt confident, other than the fact that I knew I was wearing a diaper underneath.   Hopefully, that would escape notice.

I got back to the halfway house and put the suit away and returned diaper-clad to the common room.   “How’d your interview go?” Mack asked.   “Good, I guess.   They said they’d let me know.”    I got a few emails of rejection and another interview.   Finally, I got a call from West.   They were offering me a job, and I immediately accepted.

The next day I awoke, ate breakfast and soiled the diaper.   It was still disgusting, but I guess I’d have to get used to it.    Helen arrived to make the change, and I gave her the details of my new job.

“Good, then tomorrow we can get you out of here.   I’ve lined up an efficiency apartment for you.   What’s the dress on the job.”

“It looks like they dress casual.   Not jeans, but not suits or ties.”

“Fine do you have that in your locker?”

“Do I still have a locker?”

“Yes, other than the stolen property, it and your car are still there.”

“Yeah, I have clothes in there.”

“Ok, we’ll go retrieve them on the way.   We’ll still need to take you shopping.”

“What for?”

“You’ll need better diapers.”

 

[Fulldiaper]

Great start Will, I look forward to seeing more of this one. Not harsh or humiliating, but strict and methodical. I do hope that you'll continue.

[YourFNF]

2 hours ago, willnotwill said:

 PORCH PIRATE

 

I'm pretty sure this isn't constitutional.....

I'd be calling my lawyer back and be like "What the fuck? Fix this..."

?

[Hawkx1]

Ok so I could’ve seen wearing the diapers that couldn’t be given back and by then he’d either have grown to like wearing diapers or had been completely un-potty trained.  But why have him be back in diapers for a year just because he stole one pack of diapers?

[bigbear95]

I take you were inspired by your post in the diapers in the news section. Good story so far, can’t wait to see where it goes. 

[Crinkleybutt]

This is an interesting premise and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes.

[willnotwill]

Helen cleared out her schedule for the next day, getting Jake settled was going to take most of it.   Gwen stuck her head in.
“Going to be out of the office, tomorrow?”
“Yeah, moving Jake into his apartment.”
“He’s cute.”
“You want him?”
Gwen just blushed.

I woke up int he halfway house, hopefully for the last time.   I ate breakfast and pooped, and Helen arrived right on time.   She changed me and this time she left off the plastic pants.    For the first time in days, I was free of them.  We headed it to the locker room.   I put on clothes.   Hopefully, this was the end of me running around in just a diaper.
“Where are we going first?” I asked trying to start a conversation.   Helen just seemed to ignore me.    We pulled up in front of a store.  Ace Medical Supplies.   We went inside.
“Hi, Helen,” the clerk called to her.   “What do you need today?”
“This boy needs to be set up with diapers and stuff.”
“OK, what is the little guy wearing now?” she asked smiling.
“He’s using up some Prevails he stole,” she said.  I cringed at being reminded of my larceny.   “But he’s starting a new job, and he needs something serious.”
The clerk looked at me as if to size me up and then searched through a cabinet.  “Here’s a sample of a DryPlus in size medium.    See if that works for him.”
Helen took me into the back and changed me into the sample.    It was thicker than the ones I had been wearing.   Helen smiled.   “These will work fine.”   I got dressed and headed out into the store proper.
“What else will he need?” the clerk asked.  “Wipes, cream?”
Helen agreed.   After a few minutes, I was carrying several bags of the new diapers plus a shopping bag with the creams and wipes in it to Helen’s car.    We drove off and soon were at another shopping center.   Babyland.
“Why are we here?” I asked.
“We need to get you a diaper bag.”
We went inside and found the selection.    After offering a pink one to me with a smile, Helen picked up a small black knapsack.   “How about this.    Plenty of room for diapers, a pocket here for your cream, and another for your wipes.”   We purchased this and made our way to our next destination.
We arrived at a small apartment complex.    I immediately recognized my car as being parked out front.   We went up to the door and pushed in.   We entered a small apartment, and the woman I saw earlier in Helen’s office was busy inside.
“Here’s your new home,” Helen announced.   “Gwen will take it from here.   Good luck with the new job.  I’ll see you in a few days.”
Helen left the apartment, and I turned towards the young woman.   She smiled.

 

[jeremy12312]

On 12/5/2018 at 8:32 AM, willnotwill said:

“I’ve got a few who have got, what you might call, a life sentence.”

This phrasing reminds me of another wonderful story of yours, "Four Strikes".  Any chance you could repost that since it got eaten up by the server?

[willnotwill]

I have a copy.    The PO here (and the reference to the life sentence) is from another story "Restricted License."

[BabyLock]

How APT-pa-pro - tis the season for these thieves to run around disrupting the gift giving plans of homeowners.

But the authorities are getting really smart with this electronic age of GPS - TV camera door bells and the alike.

You can steal it - you can run - but you can't hide from being caught and with consequences (OH this story hits oh so close to home) -

So what is it about you an adult stealing baby cribs diapers wipes ????? And you are not in a CARE Facility but oh so soon to be --------- 

[CDfm]

I have really enjoyed the beginning of this story. Great job willnotwill. He does seem to be accepting the diapers and using them for all of his needs very easily. I think that his Lawyer would have a pretty good case for cruel and unusual punishment. But then I have a sneaking suspicion that his Lawyer is in on the hole thing as well. I wish I still had a like left to give today. I ran out early today. I will be watching for more. 

[Sarah Penguin]

[Fulldiaper]

Great twist for Jake to Gwen. Please do continue, Will. Thanks

[kirababy]

looking forward to more - this is nicely paced and enjoyable to read