The Toilet Permit

[willnotwill]

Someone mentioned a potty training permit in one of the other threads.   That gave the idea for this story...

I don’t recall going through the process of toilet training.    I do remember afterward when I got my new government ID proclaiming that I was trained.   My card allowed me to get into bathrooms unescorted.   I felt so grown up.   Other than that, I hadn’t given it much thought.   I remember my brothers and sisters getting trained.   First, they wore diapers and then training pants, and my parents would escort them into the bathrooms while they were training.

Years passed.   I was in my teens, and all of it was a distant memory when I had an accident at school.   I don’t know what happened, but I pissed my pants.   It probably wouldn’t have been a big deal, but someone noticed the stain and made enough of a scene that the teacher sent me to the nurse.    The nurse called my mother, and she brought me dry clothes.     I was mortified, but I soon forgot all about it.

A month later, I was sitting in math class.   A rumbling in my gut started.   I realized that I wasn’t going to make it through the hour.   I raised my hand.

“Can I have a pass?”

“Can it wait?” the teacher asked.

“It’s an emergency.”

The teacher nodded, and I hustled out of the room.    It was getting dire.    I squeezed my butt together as tight as possible as I walked toward the bathroom.    I touched my ID card to the door to gain admittance.   As the door unlocked, I pushed in and realized that although I was so close, I hadn’t made it.    Liquid stool squirted out into my underpants.    I got into the stall as a second wave hit.   I got my pants down, and the rest went into the toilet.

I surveyed my underpants.   They were a mess.   I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and tried my best to clean them up and then myself, but it was hopeless.    I did the best I could and pulled up my pants.   I washed my hand but had no clue what to do.   I headed to the nurse and explained what happened.

She was very sympathetic and said she would call my mother for new pants.    She suggested I get out of what I was wearing, and she would help me as soon as she finished on the phone.    Sheepishly I got out of my soiled trousers and boxers and carefully set them aside.   I stood there embarrassed, naked below the waist.

The nurse returned and set some things down on the examining table.   She patted the table, and I got up on it.    She started wiping my rear end.   More embarrassment, here I was, a sophomore in high school having my butt wiped.    Then I got a shock.    She slid something under me and then up between my legs.   I soon realized I was being diapered.

“A diaper?” I said incredulously.

“You can’t be wearing underwear now,” she said.    “I’m done.   Your mom will be here soon with your pants.   We can talk further then.”

I sat there looking at the diaper.     This was silly.    It was just an accident.    I heard my mother outside, and then she came into the room.     She handed me a pair of trousers.

“Underwear?” I asked.

“No,” she said.

I pulled the pants up over the diaper.     The nurse entered.   “Can I see your ID card?” she said.

I handed it over, and she left the room for a minute and then returned and handed it back to me.   I looked down at it.   There was a hole punched into it.    I looked confused, and the nurse must have noticed.

“I had to punch out the T. in addition, your card has been recoded to remove toilet privileges.”

“What?”

“You are no longer allowed to use the toilet.”

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“If you have to go, use your diaper.    If you need a change, come here.   I have an assistant who usually handles changes.”

Use the diaper?    I had a million questions.   The first one, I blurted out, “For how long?”

“Until you go through toilet training again, and then you can take the test and get your privileges.”

Toilet training?   What did that mean?   I was toilet trained.   “Toilet training?” I asked out loud.

“Yes, first you’ll need to get a toilet training permit, and then after a period of training, you can apply to take the test and get the T back on your ID, and it will open the bathrooms again.”

“So, until then, I have to wear diapers to school?”

“Until then, you have to wear diapers all the time.   You won’t be able to unlock bathrooms anywhere with your ID, and even those that don’t require a card to enter will sound an alarm if you go in there.”

I was stunned.   Were they telling me that I couldn’t use the toilet?

“How do I get trained?”

“First, you have to go get a toilet training permit.”

[Orion]

I love this concept! Can't wait to see how you continue this. 

[aldl4811]

Yikes! Fun start!

[Kaleros]

Interesting start. I wonder where things go from here.

[D503]

Nice. Can't unlock bathrooms? So no self-changes when out or only in special change rooms?

[willnotwill]

I went back to class.    It felt odd to have the diaper on.   I was sure someone would notice, but nobody seemed to mind.     The last few periods dragged on.   I swung by the nurse and asked for more information about the permit.   She told me that I needed to go to the government center to apply for it.

The government center was a few blocks from the high school.    I remember going there when my friend Walt applied for his learner’s permit to get his driver’s license.   When the dismissal bell rang, I made my way down there.    I walked into the lobby and stared at the directory.   Where do you go for this?    Not seeing anything that stood out, I went to the information desk.

“I need to know where to go for a permit,” I asked.

“Driver’s licenses in room 205,” she said.

“Umm, not that kind of permit,” I said.

“Well, what kind?  Building permit?  Hunting permit?”  she started listing the choices.

“Toilet training,” I said quietly.

“Potty permit?   At your age?”  she chuckled.   I nodded sheepishly.

“Public health office.    Room 304.”

I rode the elevator to the third floor.   I hoped I’d not have to explain myself again.    I went into the room and up to the window.   “I need a toilet training permit,” I said quietly.

“Fine, can I see your ID?”

I slid my card over to her.   She put her finger on the hole that was punched into it.    “I see you need a new ID either way.    Your parent needs to sign for the permit, but if you want, you can take the test now and get it out of the way.”

It didn’t even occur to me that I needed parental permission to be potty trained.   “Test?”

“Yes, twenty questions.   Multiple choice.”

“I don’t remember that from when I was little.”

“It’s only for people who have had their permits revoked.”

“Oh.”    Well, I didn’t know what it covered, but how hard could it be.   I’ll take it, and if I don’t pass, at least I’ll know what to study when I come back with my parent’s signature.

I was led to a computer in a little booth, and I started the test.    I quickly realized I was over my head.  There were questions about the forms of incontinence that I just guessed at.    There were questions on anatomy.   I knew that kidneys pulled urine out of the blood and went to the bladder, but what were all the tubes called.     I guessed again.    I went back to the window.

“I’m afraid you didn’t pass.    Here’s a little book to help you study.    You can retake the test in thirty days.”

“Thirty days?”

“Those are the rules.”

I realized I’d blown it.   Now I knew I was stuck in diapers for a month, and then I could do whatever the training required.    The woman at the window also gave me a form for my mother to sign to bring when I returned.

I got home and found a bag of diapers in my size on the kitchen counter, along with a package of pull-ups.    I confessed to my mother that I had failed the test and showed her the form to be signed.   She just shook her head.   “I guess I’ll have to put these away for now,” she said, picking up the pull-ups.   “I’ll order a case of diapers for you.”

Shortly my father arrived, and he and mom talked while she got dinner ready.    We sat down for dinner.  After a short time, my father said, “We were hoping we could get you into training right away, but you messed that up.    Had got your learner’s permit, we could let you use the toilet at home in the name of training.    As it is, you’re going to have to use your diaper for the time being, at home and school.”

I swallowed hard.   I was hoping the diapers were only going to be needed at school.     I also realized that I had not peed since this all started, and I had to go.     I stood up and put my dishes in the sink, and then stood there.    It took a second to get it started, but I wet the diaper.    I felt the warmth spread across my middle, and then the diaper began to sag a bit.

Mom came up and put her hand on my shoulder.  “Did you just go?”   I nodded.  “You used to get that same look on your face when you were a baby.”    I felt about two years old when she said that.  “Come upstairs, and I’ll change your diaper.”

[Bonsai]

Would be nice to explore what happens in case of toilet trespassing, or if you get caught doing your business behind the bushes...

[Pierry Louys]

Interesting developments! Like they said who rush things get worse results 

[maly]

I really like the idea of this, looking forward to more.

[Baby Toni38]

Great Idea,  please keep it going. 

[willnotwill]

“Ah, mom,” I protested.

“Son,” my father said in that tone that meant he was serious.   “Go with your mother.”

I went upstairs, and my mother spread a towel on my bed.    “I guess I’m going to have to get a proper changing pad for you.” She patted the towel, and I got up on it.   She lowered my pants and then undid the diaper.   She plucked a few wipes from the container she had brought up and started wiping me.

“See, this isn’t so bad,” she said.   I remained silent.  She did up the diaper, leaving me to pull my pants up.

I moped around about my situation and went to bed.    I awoke the following day having to pee.   I stood up to head to the bathroom and felt the diaper.   Oh, yeah.   I stood there for a minute and flooded the thing.   At least it was absorbant, if nothing else.   It now sagged heavily at my hips.    My mom knocked on the door.  “Need a change?”    I admitted I did.

Mom drove me to school that morning.   She had a bag with extra diapers for me, and we went to the nurse who showed us a special room with its dedicated aid.   “This is where we take care of little boys and girls who aren’t potty trained.” The nurse said.   I felt like a two-year-old.   They showed me where to store my supplies.   I declined that I needed a change.   I was told I could come down when I did.

I noticed that morning getting dressed was that my trousers, which were already on the tight side, were even tighter over the diaper.    Mom caught this as well and told me she’d pick me up after school, and we would go shopping for new ones.  “You’re outgrowing them even without the diaper.”

I made it through to lunchtime without using the diaper but finally had to let loose in it.   I thought about getting a change, but I wasn’t ready for the embarrassment of having the aid change me.   I figured I could make it the rest of the day.   

We made our way through the mall, heading for a store that sold Dockers.    Mom stopped me and asked, “Is your diaper wet?”  I nodded.   “Well, let’s get you changed.”  She looked at a sign with the mall map but failed to find what she was looking for.   She went up to the information counter.

“Do you have a family bathroom?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I need to change my son’s diaper.”

“There are changing tables in the ladies’ room.”

Mom looked over at me.    I couldn’t go into the ladies’ room.    The woman at the info desk quickly summed up what was going on.  “Oh, it’s OK for him to go in there if you are with him.”

Great, I thought.   Mom led me to the ladies’ room.    I tried not to look around too much.   Mom saw the changing table and headed over toward it.   There was already a woman using it.    A girl about my age was lying on it.   She saw me and turned away quickly.

“I’ll just be a second,” the girl’s mother said.    A moment later, she pronounced that she was done, and the girl hopped off the table.     I took her place, and my mother pulled down my pants.    I looked over toward the door, and the girl who had just been changed was looking at me.   When she saw me look at her, she just nodded and headed out the door.

I was preoccupied with thinking about what I had just seen when I realized my mother was talking.  “What?” I asked.

“I asked if you had made a poopie yet?”

“Oh, um, no.”

“Well, you shouldn’t hold it.    Just do it, and we’ll get you changed right away.”

Great, I’d not yet come to the reality that I’d be crapping myself.    But my mind went back to the girl.

[willnotwill]

I spent another day diapered at school. I wet myself twice before lunch. I figured I better get changed before I sprung a leak. I showed up in the changing room, and just as I opened the door, someone pushed out of the room in a hurry. I spun around and looked. It was that girl from the mall. I wanted to chase after her, but the aide was calling my name. I went inside.

It was odd having someone other than mom changing me. Hell, it was strange getting changed at all. Still, my mind drifted back to the girl. What was my fascination with her? Did I find her attractive? Did I just want her as a kindred spirit? Changed, I headed off to lunch. I scanned the cafeteria, looking for her without results. I settled down and ate.

All the way home, I tried to figure out a strategy to find the girl. Perhaps I could hang out in or around the changing room, hoping to catch her there again. Maybe the changing aide would tell me who she was. My head was still working on the problem when I got home. Mom wanted to know if I needed a change, and I was a little wet, so I let her change me for the distraction more than anything else.

“I see you still haven’t made a poopie,” she said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What? Oh, um, no,” I stammered.

“Well, I talked to the doctor. He gave me advice on something that will help.” I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I felt something pushed up my rear a second later.

“What the f---,” I started and quickly recovered from saying the F word to my mother.

“This will help. It says to try to hold it in for ten minutes.” She was doing up the diaper. “Let me know as soon as you go.”

I decided not to put my trousers back on. I went over to the computer and webbed surf. I tried to keep my mind off of what was about to happen. After ten minutes, I felt a slight burn down there. I tried to ignore it, but the pressure soon grew unbearably. I stood up. I thought better about it and wanted to hold it, but it was too late. A sizeable amount escaped into the diaper. At first, I was relieved that the pressure subsided, but soon the space in the diaper was filled and the mess mushroomed all over my rear.

A second wave hit, and more was deposited. Was this ever going to end? A third hit, and I finally felt like it was over. “Mom!” I cried. She soon returned and spread a pad on the bed. I tried to lie down on the bed gingerly but ended up sitting down in a pile of my own feces. What was the point of this? I positioned myself on the pad, closed my eyes, and tried to ignore what was about to happen.

“Whew,” Mom said. “You shouldn’t hold it so long.” That was the truth. I felt her scraping large amounts of poop off my rear. Wipe after wipe went to my butt. She must have used an entire package of them when she was ready to put a clean diaper on me.

“Are you sure I have to do this?” I asked. “Can’t I just poop in the toilet?”

“No, dear. The doctor said the same thing as the school nurse. You need to be using the diaper.”

Just great, I thought.

I crossed off another day on the calendar toward when I could retake the toilet training exam—only twenty-seven more days of this. I found a bag on the counter with more diapers to take to the changing room at school, so I stuffed it under my arm and headed out the door. I got to the changing room and stowed them in the cubby they had assigned to me. As I went out the door, that entered.

I wanted to catch her this time. I waited outside the door to give her some privacy if she was getting a change. A few minutes later, she emerged. “Hi,” was all I could think of saying.

“Oh, hi,” she responded. “Can’t talk, gotta go.” She pushed past me and was gone.

Was she actively avoiding me? Did she not like me? Shy? What was going on?

Another day passed. I was getting into the swing of things. I’d force myself to poop in the morning and have Mom change me right away. The last thing I wanted to do is have to do that at school. I was keeping a low profile when wetting, but the smell of poop would undoubtedly give me away. I saw the girl again on the way into the building. I waved at her. She saw me and then spun away. What was it?

That afternoon, Mom was waiting for me when I got home. She asked if I needed a change, and we headed up to my room. “I understand you’ve been bothering a girl at school,” she said. That took me back. Bothering? I just tried to talk to her. I told Mom that. “Well, her mother called. I think we better go over there and resolve the problems.”

We drove over and went up to the door. The woman I had seen changing the girl that day at the mall greeted us. “Come in, come in,” she said. She seemed pleasant enough.

“I know you probably didn’t think you were doing anything wrong,” she began. “But, Kim had a good reason not to want to talk to you. However, since I talked to your mother, I decided it was probably OK.”

I didn’t understand what was going on. What good reason? The woman seemed to expect my confusion. “It’s probably easier if Kim explains it. She’s up in her room. First door, at the top of the stairs. Why don’t you go visit her?”

I mounted the stairs and found the door. There was a little plaque with a unicorn and the name Kim on it, leaving no doubt. I knocked. The door swung open, and there she was. “Your mom says I should talk to you.”

“Oh, hi. Come in and sit down, and I’ll tell you about it.” I entered, and she pointed at a beanbag chair on the floor. I plopped down on it, and she sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m Jason, by the way. I’m sorry if I bothered you, but ever since I saw you at the mall, I figured we had something in common.”

“Kim, obviously,” she said, pointing a thumb at herself. “Yes, I remember you. It’s OK. I just thought I’d get into trouble if they caught me talking to you.”

“In trouble?”

“Let me tell you my story. A bit over a year ago, I was arrested for shoplifting. They put me on probation, and one of the conditions was that I wasn’t to hang around with my old friends or anybody else who was into illegal things.”

“You thought I was a criminal?”

“I didn’t know why you were in diapers. I thought it might be for the same reason I am. I didn’t want to risk it. My probation is almost up.”

“Wait. The reason you are? I lost my toilet license because I had a bunch of accidents at school. What is your reason?”

“I told you I’m on probation. They took away my toilet license as part of that. I’ve been using diapers for almost a year now.”

“Wow,” I said aloud. “A year? I was bummed that I screwed up and have to wait a month to start training again.” She looked puzzled. “I stupidly took the permit test without studying. I’m waiting out thirty days to retest.”

“Oops,” she said. “I’ve just started studying for the exam. I’ve been reading the potty training book over and over. I want to be ready as soon as my probation is over and my parents decide to let me start.”

“You think they won’t give you permission?”

“It’s a possibility. Dad threatened to keep me in diapers until I was old enough to move out, but I think that was an idle threat.”

“Well, I’m going to nail it on the retest,” I said hopefully. “Mom already signed the application. I want to get the toilet training period started and done with and get back to normal.”

“I hear you. Do you think you’ll have problems with potty training?”

“I hope not. My accidents at school were just bad luck, I think. I’d not had any since I was toilet trained the first time. It’s a formality, I guess.”

“I’m hoping I get control back quickly, but I don’t know.”

“Get control back?”

“I’ve been using diapers for a year. You get used to it after a while. I mean, you never get used to it, but you end up going without thinking about it.”

My head swam. It hadn’t occurred to me that this would happen. I also became aware that I needed to pee. I tried to suppress it. We talked further, and the urge to go increased. She eventually realized my discomfort.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Um, I have to pee.”

“Well, do it.”

“I’m a little nervous doing it in front of you.”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t care. I’m already pretty wet.”

It took me a minute to relax enough to get started, but I finally got it going. Kim must have sensed my relief. “Feel better now? Good. Let’s go get changed.”

We headed down to the living room, where our mothers were still chatting. “We need our diapers changed,” Kim said matter-of-factly.  Kim’s mom stood, and then my mother.

“You can sit and relax,” Kim’s mother said. “I’ll change them both.” Kim’s mother led us to a room. There were diapers on the shelf and a padded table. “Who wants to be first?” Kim answered that question by hopping up on the table. Her mother started the process and talking to me at the same time. “When we realized Kim was going to be in diapers for an extended period, my husband built this changing table.”

“Looks very nice,” I said, trying to be polite.

“I told your mother that he would be happy to make one for you.”

“I’m hoping that I won’t be needing one much longer,” I said.

“You never know.” With this, she was pulling Kim’s pants back in place. Kim hopped down, and I had no choice but to take her place. Again, it was odd having someone other than Mom change me. I had gotten used to the aide at school, but this was different. I also knew that I was becoming erect.

She giggled. “I’ve not changed a boy’s diaper since Kim’s brother got toilet trained before she was born. At least you aren’t peeing on me in the process. I had to put a little teepee over his thing to avoid getting sprayed.”

I got red with embarrassment. I closed my eyes and hoped things would be done soon.

[Pierry Louys]

Cute chapter 

[twentyfifth]

I'm loving this ? thank you!

[willnotwill]

Kim and I went back and discussed studying for the test together for a bit before my mom announced we needed to get back home so she could cook dinner for Dad. We made our goodbyes. As we drove away, I smiled. It was nice to have finally met Kim.

I got into a ritual as the days progressed. I’d get up and force myself to poop so I could get Mom to change me right away. I discovered when doing this was already wet. I couldn’t remember the actual wetting. I shuddered to think about what Kim had told me about losing control.

I was down to just over a week left before the retest when my parents came to me. Both looked somber, though my father’s attitude was darker. “Son, my cousin Bruce has died.”

“Oh, no,” I said, though I really didn’t know Bruce that well. I knew he and Dad were close since they were kids. “What happened?”

“Cancer. Pretty fast,” my mother explained. “The funeral’s this weekend and your father and I are going. We’re leaving Thursday evening.” She paused. “We don’t think it’s a good idea for you to miss any school over this.”

Were they talking about leaving me home alone? My mother seemed to sense my confusion. “I’ve made arrangements with Kim’s parents that you stay at their house for the weekend. That seemed best as Kim’s mother is familiar with the diaper situation.” Her stress on situation clued me in that this whole toilet training fiasco was hard on her besides it being hard on me.

“OK, that will work,” I said.

I ran into Kim at school and told her I was spending the weekend. “I know,” she said. “Mom told me this morning.” We made plans. I would walk home with her on Friday. Mom had already said she’d drop off my stuff before they left town.

“Maybe we can study together,” I said.

“We’re not in any of the same classes,” she said, confused.

“I’m talking about the toilet training exam,” I said.

“Oh, I guess we can do that. I don’t know when Mom is going to let me take that.”

“When is your probation up?”

“Next week.”

“Then you and I can do it together,” I said, cheerfully.

“Well,” she started, and then trailed off.

“Well, what?” I asked.

“She’s made comments about keeping me untrained.”

“Why would she do that? My mom can’t wait to get me out of diapers.”

“She thinks it’s helping my behavior.” There was an awkward pause, as I did not know what to say. Then she added, “But, I guess it doesn’t hurt to be ready to take it if she does.”

That Friday, I followed her home. Her mother met us at the door and led us off for the required diaper changes. She asked what we were going to do that evening and I mentioned studying for the exam. She seemed to approve of the idea. Maybe she was planning to let Kim take the test. For dinner, we had pizza and Cokes.

“This is a treat,” Kim explained. “We don’t get either of these often.”

We spent the rest of the evening studying. At bedtime, Kim’s mother came into the room and announced it was time for bedtime diaper changes. I watched Kim get up on the changing table. After her wet diaper was removed, something different was put on. It was a cloth diaper being pinned up.

“This is what I wear to bed,” Kim explained.

“Cloth is really much better for your skin,” her mother explained. “It is however unwieldy for school.” Her mom slid a pair of plastic pants up over that. Kim got down off the table and went over to her bed and plucked pajamas out from under her pillow.

I was up on the table next. After removing my diaper, Kim’s mom asked if I wanted wanted to try a cloth diaper as well. “Sure,” I said. She pinned one on me and followed it with the plastic pants. I went over to my bag and got out my pajamas. I struggled to get the bottoms up over the diaper and I couldn’t.

“See,” her mom laughed, “Unwieldy. You can just wear your pajama top and forget the bottoms. Babies go around like that all the time.” I bristled at the idea of being equated to a baby, but I was wearing and using a diaper. I threw the bottoms back in my bag and pulled on the tops. Kim’s mom left the room and Kim giggled.

“You look cute like that,” she said. I blushed and then looked at her. She was wearing a one-piece outfit that even had feet attached like a little kid.

“You do, too.”

“You want the top or bottom?” she asked. I was a bit confused. Then she pointed to the bunk beds. “Top or bottom?”

“Oh, top, I guess.” I went to climb up to the upper bunk when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and Kim leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

“Good night,” and turned to pull down the covers on her bed. Smiling, I started up the ladder.

 

 

[Sir Stinkypants]

Interesting premise! Thanks for sharing, it’d be fun to read more!

[Jericho2020]

Here’s hoping for Kim and Jason!

[AdultInnocence]

Found this when looking for something else to read. Like the concept of it.

[TheBabyPants]

Loving the story as usual

[willnotwill]

I was sitting with Kim in my arms. I leaned over to kiss her and suddenly the earth shook.

“Wake up sleepy heads,” I heard. I opened my eyes and found Kim’s mother shaking the side of the bed. I heard some vague muttering from down below. It took me a second, but then I remembered I was sleeping in Kim’s room. I had been dreaming.

“Time to get up,” Kim’s mother said again. I swung my legs over the side of the bunk and slid down the latter. Kim was now getting to her feet as well. She instinctively headed to the changing table and hopped up.

Her mother pulled down the plastic pants and unpinned the diaper. I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on, as I didn’t want to be accused of staring. I heard Kim plead, “No, mom. Do we have to do this today?”

“It’s Saturday,” her mother said. I looked over and noticed tubing running into Kim’s diaper area. It ran to a bag of liquid hanging up next to the table. Her mother operated a clamp on the tubing. “Kim always gets an enema on Saturday.”

Kim just groaned. Her mother continued. “When she first started wearing diapers again, she held it so much; she got stopped up. Your mother said you had the same problem.”

“Yeah, she gave me a suppository.”

“She told me. This works well, too,” she explained. “There, all set.” Her mother quickly repined the diaper and pulled the plastic pants back up. “Hop down while I take care of Jason.” Kim got down. She bent her knees, and I knew she was expelling all that liquid into her diaper. I got up on the table.

My diaper came down and then what I feared was going to happen came. I felt the tube inserted in my rear. I felt the liquid run in. More and more of it came. I cramped. I didn’t think I could any more when Kim’s mom pulled my diaper back into place and then yanked out the tube. “Swap places with Kim,” she said.

I did as I was told. I managed about two steps before the liquid came gushing out. I expelled more of it along with some chunks of solid stool. Yuck.

We spent the rest of the day studying for the test and playing games. I was really having a fabulous time with Kim. That night we got our cloth diapers and pajamas for bed. After her mother left, Kim threw her arms around me and kissed me hard. It was electric. We kissed for a long time and then finally I crawled up to the upper bunk.

I was lying there thinking just how wonderful things had turned out. I knew that tomorrow, I’d go home, but Kim and I had something special. I felt the bed shake a little and then I realized that Kim had climbed up to my bunk and was snuggling next to me. Contented, I wrapped my arms around her and we snuggled for a while.

After a time she kissed me again and climbed down and got into her bunk. “Good night, Jason.”

“Good night, Kim.”

Sunday morning was just normal diaper changes. Kim’s mother made a big breakfast, bacon, eggs, coffee cake, juice, fruit. It was fabulous. We hung out all day until my parents swung by to pick me up. Mom loaded my stuff into the car and dad drove us home.

“So what did you do all weekend?” my mother asked.

“Just hung out, mostly,” I said. “We spent some time studying for the toilet training written test. I’m eligible to take it again a week from Tuesday, and Kim is, too.”

“So you think you’re going to go into potty training?” my father said.

I was a little taken back by that. It seemed to be a given that I’d start training immediately. Mom had bought me training pants already, and I’d be in them if I hadn’t screwed up the test. My mind flashed to Kim’s comments about her mom not signing her off for the permit.

“I’m hoping I will as soon as I pass the test. I’ve studied real hard this time.”

“We’ll see,” he said.  My mother said nothing.

The week went by and I was happy as long as I could see Kim from time to time. It wasn’t just having a kindred spirit in diapers, but I was quite attached to her now. We made plans for the weekend. We’d meet up at the mall on Saturday.

Saturday morning rolled around. I wanted to get changed, showered, and dressed so I could meet Kim. I hopped out of bed with a wet diaper. Again, I didn’t remember using it. Had I wet in my sleep, or did I just wake up, realize I had the diaper on, and then go back to sleep afterward. My mom popped through the door. “Ready for a change?”

“Yes,” I said. I hopped up on the table. I inquired further. “You are going to sign the toilet permit application?” I said, hopefully.

“Well, I had assumed that it was just a formality. But after talking with Kim’s mother and your father, he’s not sure you should rush into this.”

Not sure? Rush? I was trying to figure out what to say next as my mother balled up the wet diaper and threw it into the covered can, which was now my diaper pail. Rather than putting a clean diaper on me, she told me she’d be right back.

I had a few seconds to stew over the permission issue. I had time to work on them. At least I could take the test and get it out of the way. But they just had to let me start training. A moment later, mom came in carrying something that froze me in my thoughts.

“Kim’s mother said you had an enema last Saturday,” she announced, holding the bag and hose.

“Mom, I don’t need that.”

“We think it wouldn’t hurt you.” I sighed in resignation. This wasn’t the battle I wanted to fight. It was more important to get out of diapers entirely. I felt the nozzle invade my rear and the water start in. When finished, Mom taped a new diaper up and yanked the nozzle out. I made it for a few seconds and then flexed my knees and pushed out the watery mess. Several squirts later, I told her I was done and wanted to take a shower.

 

[willnotwill]

I fumed the rest of the day. How could they think any of this was a good idea? I feared it was my father I had to work on. Sunday, I came up with an idea. I would wait until my mother was busy to put my plan into action.

The opportunity came after lunch. Mom announced she had to run down to help with her Garden Club project. My diaper had been wet for a while, it was probably getting pretty ripe. I squatted down and pushed out a large load in the diaper. Then I steeled myself and sat down in it. It was now a proper mess. I went and found my father watching TV.

“Dad, I need my diaper changed,” I announced.

He looked at me a second like he was going to suggest having Mom do it and then he remembered. “As soon as the commercial comes on.”

I sat down next to him on the sofa, further squishing into the mess. I could sell the poop wafting up and I’m sure he could now as well. The game cut to a beer commercial and I stood up. Dad followed me back to my room. I had already laid out the stuff. I hopped up and waited.

He tentatively undid the tapes and pulled the diaper away. It was ripe in there. I saw him wrinkle his nose as he balled up the messy diaper trying not to get any on himself. He wasn’t as adept as mom. Mom would have used some of the diaper to remove as much of the mess as possible before starting in with the wipes.

He put several wipes on his hand and started. They came away totally brown without making much of a dent in the mess. He sighed and grabbed for more. Wipe after wipe came at me. He used up almost the entire box before he decided he was done. He wiped his hands on a fresh wipe and then set about putting a new on me. He fumbled with the process. I could have helped him, but I played dumb.

Finally, he went off to wash his hands. I went back to the sofa, sitting there in just the diaper since he’d not bothered to pull my pants back on for me. The game was well back in progress. One of the home team players hit a grand slam before he got back into the room. I recapped it for him. He never said a word. I just sat there in the diaper. After a while, I wet the diaper. The smell wasn’t obvious as before, but I’m sure he must have been aware of it.

Mom came home and saw me sitting there. “You need a change. Seriously, dear, you can’t let him just sit there in a wet diaper.”

“I already changed his stinky diaper,” he countered.

“Well, he needs another. Come, Jason.” Mom led me back to the room and changed me. She looked around at the remnants of the previous change and just clucked her tongue and cleaned that up. I smiled. Perhaps I’d given them both a bit of a reality check.

I heard nothing more the rest of the day or on Monday. Tuesday morning was the day that Kim and I planned to take the test. I came down and found the application for the permit on the table with my father’s signature on it. It had worked.

I got to school and ran into Kim. I pulled out the application to display the signature. She reached into her bag and pulled one out as well.  We hugged. We’d both start our training this evening after we passed our tests.

That afternoon, we made the way to the permit office and handed over our applications. We sat down at the computers for the test. I went through confidently answering the questions. I went back and checked the answer twice and submitted the test. Kim got up shortly after I did. We sat there nervously waiting for the results.

The clerk announced we had both passed. We were handed new IDs proclaiming we were in toilet training. “Here’s your potty training logs and the information on phase one of your training. Good luck.” We received our materials and hugged and went home. Both of us were eager to get into pull ups and on with our training.

[Bonsai]

Good job on helping dad to make a wise decision ?

[willnotwill]

I got home and showed my new permit to my mother. Now, toilet training could begin. She went and got the pullups. I tore into the bag and extracted one. I ran upstairs and peeled the diaper off and put on the training pants. Mom came in and asked if I wanted to try the toilet. Boy, did I.

She escorted me to the bathroom, and I sat on the toilet. It was hard having her watch. It was as bad as when I first tried to go in the diaper. After a time I announced that I apparently didn’t need to go. Mom made a note in my log and I got dressed.

It was nice not having as much bulk between my legs. I made it through dinner and at bedtime Mom again watched me on the toilet. This time I could pee. “That’s the ticket,” she said. She made an entry in my logbook, and I went off to bed.

Mom woke me up the next morning. I looked down at the pullup and realized I had wet it. In fact, it had leaked a bit onto the sheets. “Oh, dear,” Mom said when seeing this. “I guess you better continue to sleep in a diaper for a while.”

I got dressed and headed to school. Upon arrival I went to the nurse and showed her my permit. She had me sit on the toilet, and I wasn’t able to go. Kim came in just after I stood up. “How’s it going?” I asked.

“Good. I was so happy to be able to poop in the toilet this morning.” I gave her a thumbs up. I’d have to do that myself. That night mom watched as I pooped. She applauded and made an entry in my book. “I pooped in the toilet,” it read.

The week progressed. I knew the next step was to allow me unsupervised use of the toilet. I couldn’t wait. I needed another week of this before that could happen. Saturday morning, mom came in holding the dreaded bag.

“Aw, mom. I don’t need that. I’ve been pooping in the toilet just fine.”

“It’s still a good idea,” she said. “You can still evacuate it in the toilet.” I grumbled, but allowed her to put the pipe in my rear. After being loaded, I went straight to the toilet and sat down. I planned to go out with Kim that night. We still weren’t in the second phase, and there wouldn’t be anybody to escort us to the toilets, so we were back in diapers.

“I can’t wait for this to be over,” I said.

“Me, too. It won’t be much longer,” Kim said. “I’ll start phase two as soon as school gets out.”

That was about two weeks away. “Why wait until then?” I asked.

“Did you read how phase two works?” she countered.

“No, doesn’t it just let us go solo to the toilet?”

“It does, but while we do that we have to wear just our training pants.”

“Yuck.” I said. Now I had to contemplate whether I wanted to go around school in a pullup or wait another two weeks. “I guess I’ll wait, too. At least I can use the toilet, even if Mom or the nurse have to watch. I hate having to go in the diaper. Like, here I am sitting in a pile of my own crap for no earthly good reason.”

“I hear you.”

“Wearing them to bed is bad enough. Even now sucks.”

“You wear them to bed?”

“Yeah, I seem to actually have become a bedwetter through this.”

“You need an alarm. Mom got me one, and it worked pretty quickly.”

I resolved to ask Mom. Seeing how she always seemed to be conspiring with Kim’s mother, I was surprised I didn’t already have one.

 

[D503]

Very nice - so embarrassing - almost worse than the diapers!

[Diaperboyks]

Looking forward to the next chapter