FemDl
1 members like this


Views: 9539 Created: 2007.10.16 Updated: 2007.10.16

Diapered Giant

Chapter 1

From the start, Randy Wolfe was a big boy. At birth, he weighed a whopping 11 pounds, Huge for a first baby. Both his parents were quite large and came from large-size families. His mother, Grace, was a tall, wide-bodied woman with long, sandy hair and a pretty face. His Father, Shane, was a big Negro man, over six feet in height and powerfully built.

Shane was a very successful veterinarian, specializing in animal massage. Grace was a registered nurse. Between them, they were quite rich and lived in a comfortable house on the edge of town.

Apart from his size, Randy seemed like a normal baby boy. He was one of those placid types who rarely cried unless in need of something. The one strange thing about him was the speed at which he seemed to be growing. Friends and relatives joked that he’d be over seven feet tall when he was full grown! He was also an unusually quick learner. By 6mths, he was crawling. He walked at 10mths and was talking well before his second birthday. By then, he was over 3 feet tall and still growing fast.

By four years of age, Randy was out of diapers except at night. Before his fifth birthday, He was completely trained. His potty training had gone smoothly and everyone was proud of him. He even proved to be something of a role model in nursery school, with his skills, confidence and gentle ways. His nursery school teacher encouraged his parents to skip kindergarten, since he was fast acquiring most of the things taught there. So he entered first grade at five. Being much bigger than many five-year-olds, he fitted in fairly well with the older kids. His birthday being in June fitted in perfectly.

Towards the end of first grade, Randy and his parents began to notice a curious thing. As mentioned, Randy’d had little trouble getting potty trained and could hold his urine for up to four hours if necessary. Now, however, this "dry time" began gradually to decrease. At first, nobody was too worried; but as time passed, it began to grow more noticeable. At seven, it had dropped to three hours, where it stayed till he was almost eight. Then he began having occasional accidents. His dry time shortened rapidly over the course of a year. By the time he was approaching nine, he couldn’t go more than two hours without a washroom break, and that was pushing it. One day, after an embarrassing accident at school, he came to his parents.

"Mum?" he asked, "Am I getting sic?"

"I don’t think so, dear," Grace answered. "Why do you ask?"

"I keep having to wee," Randy explained, "it’s getting harder to hold it."

"Does it hurt to wee?" Shane asked.

Randy shook his head.

"We’ll speak to Dr. Shermann at your next checkup," Grace promised.

At the doctor’s, Randy told of his problem. Dr. Shermann had marveled at the boy’s health from the first. His large size had prompted him to keep an eye out for Diabetes, but Randy had always tested negative. The rapid growth had been due partly to genetics and partly to mild Gigantism, a condition cause by an excess of Growth Hormone. There was no family history of bladder or kidney trouble, so this turn of events was a puzzle.

"I’ll run some more tests," the doctor promised. "Perhaps something was missed."

Randy’s parents prayed for the best, but his dry time continued to shorten until he was having to go about every hour. Naturally, this posed a problem at school. He had to run to the washroom after every class, as well as during recess and lunch. It was getting scary and frustrating for everyone. He kept having to leave play to use the washroom and it was hard to concentrate on anything. He couldn’t even get a full night’s sleep! Finally, Dr. Shermann suggested they let him do an internal exam of the bladder itself.

"What’ll that mean?" asked Randy nervously.

"You’ll have to spend a day or two in hospital," Dr. Shermann explained. "We need to find out how much urine you’re actually producing and make sure there aren’t any new problems that don’t show in regular tests."

The family consented. Anything to solve this maddening mystery! They decided to have the test as soon as school was out for the summer.

For 24 hours, Randy’s washroom use was monitored. He was ten now, and found this embarrassing, but he didn’t complain because he understood why it was happening. Each time he needed to go, he had to notify a nurse who would give him a special container to wee in. This was then added to a collecting jar.

The result of this exam proved his urine production to be normal for his age. The problem was that, though he continued to "shoot up", as his mother jokingly put it, his bladder was lagging far behind. It was growing, but much more slowly, and would always be on the small side. Poor Randy was very disappointed at the news.

"What will this mean?" he asked the doctor.

"I’m afraid it may mean you’ll have to wear a catheter," Dr. Shermann told him. "You’ll produce more urine as you grow, but your bladder won’t be able to keep pace."

Randy shuddered. He’d seen catheters before when his mother once took him to work with her.

"Won’t that bet in my way?" he wondered.

"It might," Grace answered, "Especially with the way you like to play."

Randy was an active child and enjoyed running, cycling and similar sports.

"Is there anything else?" Mrs. Wolfe asked, turning back to the doctor.

"The only other choice," he replied, "would be to go back in to diapers."

"Oh no!" Randy gasped, turning white. "Not diapers! I’m too big! They’d never fit me!"

"Couldn’t this be fixed surgically?" Shane asked.

"I don’t like to suggest that unless absolutely necessary," the doctor said. "It’s a risky procedure."

Tears welled up in Randy’s eyes. "What’ll my friends think when they see me in diapers?: he asked. "And where can we find any that fit me?"

"I can answer your second question," Dr. Shermann said, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. "There are several places that sell diapers for older kids, even adults."

Randy gaped. "I thought diapers were only for babies," he said, "or those too weak to look after themselves. I’m neither."

Grace hugged her son, her own heart quaking. "I know this is murder for you, honey," she said, "but think of it this way: if you wear diapers, you won’t have to keep running to the washroom or worry about ruining clothes and furniture. As for what your friends think, we can only hope for the best."

"I guess so," Randy agreed, trying to hold back his tears.

Suddenly he went rigid. "Where’s the washroom?" he gasped.

"That way," Dr. Shermann answered, pointing through the main door of the office. "Men’s is the first door on the left."

Randy snatched up the key and fled.

While he was gone, Dr. Shermann turned the subject to the various different styles of diapers.

"If he must wear them full-time," Mr. Wolfe said, "we best use cloth. It’d save money in the long run."

"It’d be better for the environment, too," his wife added. "Are there any styles that fasten without pins? He’ll want to diaper himself when he’s older."

Dr. Shermann handed them some brochures. As they began leafing through them, Randy returned from the washroom looking doleful.

"What’s wrong?" his mother asked.

"I didn’t make it," Randy half-sobbed. "I wet my pants."

Actually, his shorts were still dry. Only his underwear was wet.

"Maybe you better take a diaper now," Dr. Shermann suggested. "I’ll send a nurse in to help."

Randy accepted tearfully. Everything seemed to be going to pieces for him. For all he knew, his life would never be quite the same.

"Who’ll change me?" he asked his mum as she helped him in to a disposable diaper.

"Daddy and I’ll help you out at first," Grace promised. "Then we’ll show you how to do it yourself."

"And what about school?" Randy went on. "The nurses won’t want to change a kid my age, and everyone’ll laugh at me in PE."

Grace’s heart broke. The situation made her think of a girl she’d known in high school. The poor dear had been born with abnormally large ears whose long lobes quivered or flapped whenever she moved her head. Other kids teased her mercilessly, calling her "Miss Big-ears," or "Bunnygirl." Only grace had stood by her, listening to her sobbing pleas for friendship. The girl’s parents hadn’t been rich and couldn’t afford the plastic surgery that would reduce and reshape her ears. It wasn’t until tenth grade that the needed operation was finally performed.

Now, looking at her diapered son, Grace couldn’t help wondering if the horrible fate of teasing awaited him. Why were kids so cruel? It simply wasn’t fair!

Comments

diaperedxboxman 14 years ago