Mitch

I had never done anything like this before. In fact, I felt completely detached from the experience—as if it were someone else experimenting with this diaper. My fingers worked clumsily as I re-taped it for the third time. I didn’t know why I had stolen three of my cousin Larry’s diapers (especially considering the hell I always put him through for needing them) nor why I had been curious about what it felt like to wear them. I finally got it closed correctly and moved about the room. I was conscious of the massive amount of material between my legs… but not in an uncomfortable way. The crinkling noises it made were louder than I had expected. Luckily, I was alone in the house with nobody around to hear.

I made my way to the bathroom but the mirror was too high for me to get a good look at myself. I descended to the living room and stood in front of the big mirror. I was taken aback by how much I looked like Larry. People had been saying that for as long as I could remember but this was the first time I had really seen it. We were born just a couple of months apart and I had always assumed that our relatives were reacting to the fact that we were of the same general build and tended to dress more or less alike (except for the diapers, of course!). The longer I looked at myself, the creepier it felt.

I was just about to head back upstairs when I heard a key being inserted into the front door. I knew that it was my mother coming home from the grocery store. I saw the door begin to open and realized that I couldn’t reach the stairs without being seen. My only other option was to scoot into the kitchen… where I knew my mom was heading next! I quickly and quietly exited into the garage. I was momentarily surprised to find it wide open. I remembered that I was supposed to be cleaning it. I dismissed the idea of lowering the door because I was sure that the sound of the motor would draw my mom’s attention.

“Mitch!” I heard her call. “Mitch! Where are you? Didn’t I tell you to clean the garage before doing anything else?”

I heard her put bags on the counter.

“Mitch!” she called again. “Mitch! Answer me!”

Her voice was getting farther away. My heart skipped several beats. She was probably heading up to my room… where she would find my shirt, pants, underpants, and the other two diapers on the bed. I did what I normally did when I was in a panic: I froze. I heard my mom coming back downstairs.

“Mitch! Come here this instant! I know what you’re up to! Don’t make me come looking for you!”

I regained some of my composure and decided that my best bet was to run around the house and enter through the front while my mom was looking for me in the back. I ran out the back door of the garage just as my mom opened the kitchen door. I ran the length of the back of the house and turned the corner. I didn’t have much time, so I took a deep breath and ran around to the front. I trembled at the thought of anyone seeing me. Hopefully, I was moving so fast that they would think that I was wearing a bathing suit… or even my underwear… anything but a diaper! I didn’t bother with the front door since my mother had closed it behind her. I turned the last corner and headed for the open garage. I yelped when I saw her standing there, waiting for me. I vainly tried to scrunch down so that she couldn’t see the diaper.

“Isn’t this a cute picture!” she said sarcastically. “And, just how long have you been wearing Larry’s diapers?”

“Never!” I replied without thinking.

“Never? Then what’s that? Or are you wearing a diaper you went out and bought for yourself?” she asked, waving the other two in the air.

“No!” I screeched. “I’ve never bought diapers!”

“Well, what’s the truth then? Where do these diapers come from?”

“Larry,” I admitted.

“Does he know that you have them?”

“No,” I admitted again.

“Then you stole them,” she said.

I remained silent, unwilling to voice the truth of the matter.

“Why?”

“I was curious,” I answered,

“Curious about what?” How they feel when they’re wet?”

“No!” I protested.

“Then why did you wet it?” she persisted.

I looked down at the wetness indicator and noticed that it had changed color. My mother read the shock in my expression.

“You didn’t know?”

I was totally embarrassed.

“It was an accident!” I explained.

“Really? And how many times have you mocked your cousin over his accidents? Should I treat you the same way now and announce to whoever might come by that you’ve just wet your diaper?”

I was stunned that she should suggest such a thing.

“We’ll finish this discussion later. Help me take in the rest of the groceries.”

I turned around and saw the car parked halfway down the driveway.

“Somebody might see me!”

“If you had finished cleaning the garage like you were supposed to I could have parked the car right here. Come on, stop wasting time.”

She grabbed my upper arm and pulled me toward the front of the garage.

“Ow!” I complained. “You’re hurting me.”

“Your little fanny is going to be the next thing to hurt if you don’t get a move on.”

She was very red in the face, a sure sign that she wasn’t going to back down. I walked out with her and she handed me four bags from the open trunk.

“I can take more,” I said.

“That’s enough for now,” she answered.

It took four more trips to bring all the stuff in. I think my mother was disappointed that no one came by to see me in my diaper. She had me help her put the groceries away. As I was doing so I wet the diaper again. This was a big mistake. It wasn’t fastened as well as I had thought and I had to continually tug at it to bring it back up.

“I’ll take care of that as soon as we’re done here,” my mom said.

“I can take it off by myself!” I answered sharply.

“I know that,” she answered. “And watch your tone! I meant that I’ll take care of putting the next one on you.”

“I don’t want to wear another diaper!” I insisted loudly.

“This is the last time I’m going to warn you about your tone! You decided to put yourself into diapers, I’ll decide when it ends.”

My mom’s face was bright red again. I backed down and tried pleading.

“Please,” I said as contritely as I could. “Don’t make me wear another diaper!”

My mom looked at me for what seemed a long time.

“How come you took three diapers?”

“I don’t know,” I answered lamely.

“You must know,” she countered. “People don’t do things without reasons.”

I wished that I could have said that she knew very well that I did lots of stuff for no particular reason but that would have landed me in even more trouble. I remained silent. She sighed.

“Come with me,” she said grabbing my hand.

I tried to resist but she would have none of it. She finally let go when we got into my room.

“Wait here while I prepare things,” she ordered.

I heard the linen closet open and close and then the medicine cabinet. Lastly, the water ran for a few seconds. She returned and spread a towel on he bed.

“Lie down and I’ll take off your diaper.”

I stared at her coldly, refusing to budge.

“One last time… on the bed.”

I caved in and began sobbing.

“Please… no,” I sniffled.

“On… the… bed,” she repeated in a determined tone.

The diaper came off and she began to wipe my diaper area with a warm cloth.

“Of course, we won’t always have the luxury of a warm cloth,” she explained. “I’ll have to get some disposable wipes when I get you more diapers.”

“No…” I whimpered. “Please don’t do that.”

“Stoop crying,” she suddenly ordered. “Now lift up.”

The fresh diaper was slid under me. My mom spread baby powder on my front and then, lifting me behind the knees, powdered my bottom. I felt completely humiliated. She taped up the diaper snugly. I got up and she took away the towel, my shirt, and my underpants.

“You are to stay here until dad and I call for you. And hang your pants in the closet.”

As soon as she had left I threw the pants across the room in frustration. The belt buckle clunked loudly against the wall.

“I said to hang those pants up!” she called from the hallway.

I picked them up and did as I was told. It took a while for me to calm down. As I did, I began thinking of answers I should have given earlier. For instance, why I hadn’t I said that the other two diapers were merely backups in case I ruined the first one trying to get it on? The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to kick myself. It seemed clear that I might have gotten away scot-free if there hadn’t been two other diapers for her to discover. Why had I taken three???

My mind wandered to thinking about my dad. He hated coming home to problems… and this was going to be a big one. I already knew most of his speeches by heart. He would undoubtedly remind me that I was “twelve years old and that it was high time that I started acting responsibly.” Beyond that, I also knew that he would support whatever my mom wanted. I hoped that her threat to buy me more diapers was exactly that… just a threat. There didn’t seem to be any point to sitting in my room worrying. I wondered if my mom would let me finish cleaning the garage. (It would be one less thing for my dad to get mad about.)

“Mom!” I called from the doorway.

There was no answer.

“Mom!” I called again… still no answer.

I left my room and called again from the foot of the stairs.

“I thought I told you to stay in your room,” she reminded me as she walked into the living room.

“Can I finish cleaning the garage?”

“Too late,” she answered. “I already did.”

“Oh… thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome… but you owe me.”

“I know,” I answered glumly.

She looked at me for a few seconds and sighed.

“Tell me again. Why did you take three diapers?”

My prepared answer about wanting backups no longer seemed very strong. I didn’t say anything. She sighed again.

“I could understand taking one if you were curious. Taking three seems like you had some kind of plan. What was it?”

“I didn’t have a plan!” I whined.

She sighed for a third time and sent me back to my room. It was an agonizing two hours before I was called down to the den. My dad delivered his stock speech and I was sent back upstairs.

Larry

I overheard a phone conversation between my mom and my aunt Brenda. Apparently, my cousin Mitch had done something to land himself in trouble again. Whatever it was must have been pretty bad because even my mom seemed upset by it. I hoped that whatever it was would get him sent to boarding school or, even better, to jail.

“Larry!” my mom called a little while after getting off the phone. “Aunt Brenda, uncle Bill, and Mitch are coming to dinner.”

My mom saw my obvious distaste over the announcement.

“Honey, I know that Mitch has acted terribly towards you but I think things have just evened out. He’s coming over to apologize to you.”

“Apologize? What for?”

“For having stolen some diapers from you.”

“Diapers?” I asked in amazement. “Why did he take diapers from me?”

“Apparently he wanted to wear them. Aunt Brenda caught him in the act. He tried to get away by running outside in nothing but a diaper.”

I was dumbfounded. Mitch wanted to wear diapers? That couldn’t be. He had made my life miserable because I had to wear them all the time.

“Unbelievable, huh?” my mom asked.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He went outside in nothing but a diaper?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes. Aunt Brenda says he ran out of the backyard, across the front yard and into the garage.”

This made me giggle. I hoped that someone from school had seen him.

*****

Mitch

My dad came to my room to tell me that we were going over to aunt Loretta and uncle Ron’s for dinner.

“The first thing that you’ll do is apologize to Larry for stealing his diapers. Get off the bed. We’re leaving right away.”

I walked over to my bureau to get pants and a shirt.

“No,” my dad said. “You’ll go dressed exactly as you are.”

“No!” I protested loudly. “They’ll laugh at me!”

“Maybe,” he conceded, “but it won’t come close to making up for what you’ve done to Larry over the years.”

I looked down at myself through tear-filled eyes.

“Instead of crying, you should begin preparing your apology,” he said, leading me roughly by the hand.

We arrived at my aunt and uncle’s in a matter of minutes. My dad parked on the street and I looked the neighborhood over. Things were pretty quiet at this end of the street. I got out and ran to the side door where my aunt greeted me coldly. My mom and dad followed a few seconds later.

“Ron and Larry are in the den,” she announced.

*****

Larry

I could hardly believe what I saw after my uncle parked his car: Mitch ran to the side door wearing nothing but his shoes, socks and a diaper! This was going to be great! He came into the den with my mom and his parents. Everybody was staring at him. His eyes were red and his hands were shaking. His voice came out sounding all squeaky.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know that it’s bad to steal.”

There was a pause of several seconds and I wondered if that was going to be it. I didn’t care if he said any more: just seeing him standing there like a scared little baby in a diaper was great revenge fall by itself.

“Is that all?” my uncle Bill asked. “What about the rest?”

“The rest of what?” Mitch asked.

“All the things you’ve done to Larry over the years. Apologize for those, too.”

This was obviously a surprise to him. It sure didn’t look like he wanted to do it but I guess he felt that it was in his best interest to apologize some more.

“I’m sorry about all that stuff, too,” he added.

I put my hand out and we shook. I couldn’t help smirking at him in exactly the same way he smirks at me when I have to ask for a diaper change. My mom and aunt Brenda went to finish getting supper ready.

“Dad,” I asked, “is Mitch going to be allowed to sit at the table without a shirt and without plastic pants?”

*****

Mitch

I snapped my head up and looked at my uncle. What did Larry’s question mean?

“It’s not for us to interfere in the punishment that uncle Bill and aunt Brenda have given Mitch,” my uncle answered.

“No,” my dad interrupted. “You made those rules for good reason. Would you mind lending Mitch a shirt and plastic pants?” my dad asked Larry.

“Sure!” Larry answered quickly. Then, turning to his dad, he added, “Can I dress like I normally do on hot days?”

His dad gave his permission and Larry smirked at me on his way out. I didn’t mind getting a shirt to wear… but his stupid plastic pants were something altogether different. I had teased him mercilessly about wearing them, never missing an opportunity to call them his baby pants. Larry returned quickly. He had taken off his pants and had exchanged his shirt for a black t-shirt. (I never knew that he dressed this way around the house and I would have liked to say that he looked like a baby, except that I was going to be dressed exactly like him in a few seconds.) He handed me an identical t-shirt and plastic pants. I put the shirt on before unfolding the pants. I was momentarily confused about which way was the front.

“The tag goes in the back,” Larry said helpfully (but with a really smarmy expression on his face).

My aunt called us to the table.

“Look, mom,” Larry said, “Mitch and me look exactly alike.”

No one missed his point: if he looked like a baby then so did I. A few minutes after we started eating my mom asked aunt Brenda where she bought Larry’s diapers and plastic pants. I nearly choked on my fried chicken.

“Langer Pharmacy,” she answered. “They have the best prices and keep a good stock on hand. Even if they have to special order something, it usually arrives in two to three days.”

“What size do you get for Larry?”

“Just a second,” my aunt answered cryptically. Turning to Larry, she asked, “Honey, have you noticed that you need more frequent changes than you used to?”

Larry looked uncomfortable about the question.

“I guess so,” he answered.

“Well, I think it’s time you moved up to a new size. Don’t you?”

Larry agreed reluctantly. His plastic pants squeaked as he squirmed in his chair. I was very happy that the tables had turned and it was his diapers that were the center of attention.

“In that case,” aunt Brenda said in answer to my mom, “I’m going to start buying him ‘youth large’ diapers and plastic pants.”

“Is Langer pharmacy open tonight?” my mom asked.

“Yes, until nine o’clock. We can go after dinner if you’d like.”

Larry had that smarmy look on his face again. I felt like throwing up.

“Mom, do I have finish my dinner?” I asked.

“If you’re not feeling well, I can pack it up for you to eat tomorrow,” my aunt volunteered.

I thanked her and asked if I could be excused. The answer was no.

“How about nighttime cloth diapers?” my mom continued.

“They usually have them in stock. I’ll need to get Larry new ones, too. We can share what they have on hand if they’re short.”

“Mom,” Larry interrupted, “are my new diapers going to be thicker? I’m kinda sick of them leaking all the time.”

“You’re right, honey. Don’t worry. I’ll look into it.”

I felt the room spinning. I didn’t dare ask if my mom planned on buying me thicker diapers, too. Larry’s daytime diapers were already pretty obvious, especially after he wet; his nighttime ones were huge.

“Aunt Brenda,” Larry said to my mom, “if Mitch is going to wear cloth diapers at night, he’ll need special pajamas, won’t he?”

“Yes, he will.”

“They take a couple of weeks to come after you order them. He can borrow a pair of mine until then.”

“Isn’t that nice of Larry?” my mother asked me. “Thank your cousin.”

Thank him! I ought to punch him in the nose! His special pajamas were baby-looking one-piece pajamas. I looked in disbelief at my mother.

“Well?” she asked impatiently.

I opened my mouth but no words came out. Instead, I threw up all over my shirt… that is, Larry’s shirt. I wasn’t the least bit sorry.

*****

Larry

My mom and aunt Brenda went shopping right after dinner. I asked my mom again if she would get me thicker, more absorbent diapers. I sort of knew that I needed better ones but I wanted especially wanted to make sure that my aunt bought really thick ones for Mitch, too. I watched TV until my dad and uncle Ron asked me to check on Mitch (who had been sent to lie down in my room). Before tonight, I would have dreaded having to speak to him but not any more. He was lying on the bed with his arm over his eyes.

“Is the baby feeling OK?” I asked.

“I’m not a baby,” he answered.

“Let’s see…” I said mockingly, “baby diaper and baby pants… you sure look like a baby.”

These were the exact words he used on me all the time. I struck a nerve, causing him to jump off the bed and grab me by the shirt. I didn’t flinch as he raised his fist over his head.

“Go ahead!” I said. “Make sure that you leave a nice big mark. I can’t wait to see what your parents do to you next.”

He pushed me away in frustration.

“Leave me alone,” he said.

“Your dad wants me to check if you need your diaper changed.”

Actually, he asked me to ask if he need a diaper change but I wanted to make him feel what it was like to be treated like a baby all the time. I walked over and put my hand on the front of his plastic pants. He jumped back and told me to stay away. I guess that this was a good example of the main difference between him and me: he was pushy and antagonistic while I preferred being friendly and cooperative.

“OK,” I smiled, “I’ll tell your dad that you wouldn’t tell me and he can deal with you himself.”

“No, wait!” he pleaded, changing his tone completely. “I don’t want my dad to change my diaper. Would you help me?”

This was a surprise. I considered his request for a few seconds. I saw this as a great chance to get him up onto my changing table and humiliating him more.

“Alright,” I agreed. “Has your mom shown you how to do it right?”

“No,” he added.

“Then, I’ll have to do everything. Take off your shirt and shoes and lie down on the changing table.”

Mitch looked at me skeptically.

“Why do I have to take those off?”

“Because your shoes might get caught in the plastic pants and rip them, and your shirt’s going to be in the way.”

He hesitated.

“Ok, I’ll get your dad if you don’t trust me.”

“No, wait!” he said.

He meekly took off his shirt (actually, it was another of my t-shirts) and shoes.

“Get on the table.”

For a second I thought that he was going to complain again but he didn’t. I had him lift up so that I could remove his plastic pants. The leg bands were slightly damp and the odor of pee was very strong.

“You’d better be careful in school. Another wetting and your plastic pants would have leaked,” I advised.

The look of horror that crossed his face was priceless. I decided to lay it on even thicker.

“Yeah, what would your friends think if you started wetting your pants like a baby?”

I guess I hit a nerve again, except that this time his eyes watered and he looked away toward the wall. I un-taped his diaper and had him lift up again. I rolled it into a ball and threw it into the pail with my own wet diapers. He jumped when I started cleaning his diaper area.

“I can do that,” he complained.

“I can do it better,” I responded. “Now, turn over so that I can clean your behind.”

When I had him turn over again he was red with embarrassment over his aroused state. I actually felt sorry for him and didn’t make any comments. I got out a new diaper and taped him up. After pulling his plastic pants over the diaper, I had him stand up so that I could check him.

“What are you doing?” he exclaimed as I ran my fingers around the leg openings.

“Your diaper is sticking out. That could cause you to leak,” I answered nonchalantly.

His whole body shuddered. I had struck another nerve. I hope he had really scary nightmares about leaky diapers and being laughed at in school.