Author: Kevin

This is a true account based on memory only. I tried to make is as accurate as possible (But because I spent a little time in the hospital) things are going to be a little distorted. I'll try to make is as 100% accurate as I possibly can.

Hello. My name is Kevin Tajiri. I live in Philadelphia with my two parents. Right now, I'm eighteen, but these accounts start way back in my Middle-teens (At age 16). In case you haven't noticed (From my name), I am partly Japanese. My father (Who is fully Japanese and does not speak English with the best of them) works in Japan, as a successful business man. He visits me four times a year (He stays a week at a time, once at Christmas, once for my birthday, once at the beginning of my Summer break, and he comes by once during the year and surprises us all) My mother is a combination of German and Irish (I inherited her blue eyes). She stays at home most of the day, except for a part time job she has during the weekend. Each year, my Father sends us some money for us to live off of. We aren't rich, we're just very well off.

Well, enough about that; I shall now start with why I am writing this. I've always been very fascinated with Diapers. I tried infantilism, but I'm not really into it (My obsession with Diapers apparently is not sexual) In this story of my account, I will tell about my life, and how I get Diapers now.

Back when I was sixteen, and my obsession was repressed, I was working at a 7/11 (It's a dangerous job, but someone's gotta do it) I quit a year ago, for a job at Walmart. Anyway, I had just gotten off shift, and I was on my way home (In a nice car my Father had bought for my sixteenth birthday) On the way home, some idiot cut me off in my lane, and jammed on their breaks. Well, I did not know why at the time (I was driving the speed limit, unlike some of those bastards you see on the road), this caused a small automobile accident. I did not have time to Jam on my breaks, and neither did the person behind me. Three cars crashed that day, and I was in the middle of it. Luckily, no one was killed, but I was in for a surprise when I came to..

I awoke couple of hours later in the Hospital. The crash had broken my left knee cap, bruised my kidneys and bladder, and to top it off; my head hurt like hell. First thing I saw was a doctor, sitting besides the bed, taking notes. At the time, I had no idea of what had happened (All I knew was I hurt really bad, and wanted to go back home)

I turned my head to the doctor, and asked "What happened?"

The doctor glanced over at me.

"You were in a car accident. You're very lucky to have come out of it like you did. To put it in lay men's terms: All that happened to you is you broke your left knee cap, and bruised your kidneys, and bladder really badly. Right now, we've got you hitched up to a catheter (Ouch!), the damage to your kidneys and bladder was minimal, but you might be incontinent for the next couple of weeks."

"Well, at least I'm alive." I thought out loud. "Do you know when I'll be going home?"

He smiled.

"Well, if all goes according to plan, you'll be going home in five days."

I was relieved, but I had more questions to ask the doctor.

"I want to ask you something, doctor." I said. "When you say 'incontinent', what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, like I said, your kidneys and bladder were damaged."

"And what does that mean?"

"Okay. Let me put it in lay men's terms." he cleared his throat. "That will make it so you may have involuntary contractions of your bladder, and your bladder will be very weak. This means that you won't be able to hold your water very well. "And what does all that add up to?" I have to admit, I was getting pretty impatient with his beating around the bush. "You might need diapers for a couple of weeks after you leave here."

Well, at the time I was very frustrated with that, and hoped it would not be necessary. I had no desire to wear diapers back then (Even though I was a little fascinated with them). I still had questions to ask the doctor. I wasn't about to get hung up on one thing like that!

"Oh." I say to the doctor in reply. "I hope I can recover all the way before I leave here."

He nods in acknowledgment.

"Can I ask you another question, doctor?"

He nods.

"How is my car?"

"What do I look like, a mechanic?" he says in reply. "I'm sorry, but that's a question you'll have to ask a family member."

I wondered where my family was. My mother, I thought she'd be there for me.

"Is my mother allowed to see me yet?"

He looks at the clip board at the foot of my bed.

"I've got other patients to see." He gets up on his feet, and heads towards the exit of the room. "To answer your question, your mother wasn't allowed to see you until you awoke, it's not visiting hours yet, but maybe she'll be in tomorrow."

He left the room, and dimmed the lights.

I fell asleep in the strange new bed. The strange noises sang me lullabies as I drifted off.

I awoke the next morning. Nurses were doing things to me, daily things. First, I performed some pretty painful exercises that involved stretching my back (I did not know it at the time, but they had done some surgery on my kidneys, and I had stitches all in my back) Next, I ate breakfast, followed by seeing the doctor. After that, I lay there, too tired to do much of anything, but watch Fox on TV.

Much later in the day, my Mother came to see me. She was very, very concerned about my well being.

"How's my boy?" she asked me the moment I saw her. "Even though it's Sunday, I've got all day to spend with you!"

"What did you quit?" I asked her, still having my sense of humor about me.

"No, I got the day off!" she exclaims. "Now, is there anything you'd like to ask me, or say to me?"

"Finally, someone to talk to." I thought out loud. "Tell me, how is my car?"

She sits down besides me.

"Right now, your car is getting repaired." she says, smiling. "Anything else you want to say to me?"

I wanted to know how I got into the crash, and she was the one to ask.

"Yeah, will you tell me exactly what happened to put me in here?"

She backs up from me.

"Do you remember anything?" she asks.

The only thing I remembered at the time was "I was on my way home from work?"

"That's right," she says in a soothing voice. "You were on your way home from work, and some jackass cut you off, then jammed on his breaks. You did not have enough time to put on your breaks, and you smashed into him. The person behind you smashed into you; you were sand-witched between two cars."

"Are the other drivers okay?" I then asked her.

"The driver in the back got away with a few lacerations to his head, and the driver in the front took off, with little damage to his car."

"You mean he ran off?!" I half exclaimed in frustration. "He did not try to help me."

"Now you know the world is full of inconsiderate people. Look, all they know is he was driving a Gray station wagon."

"I hope they catch the bastard." I said in frustration. I had to calm down. "Well, at least I'm okay."

"Do you want to ask me anything about your injuries?" she then asks. "I don't know what you've been told."

"I've been told that I broke my knee, I'll be out of here in about four days, and there's a chance I'll be incontinent for a couple of weeks."

"Well, I just got an update on your condition. You're doing good, Kevin! When you go home, you'll need crutches for a couple of months, and about being incontinent, I'm understanding to that. I'll get you what ever you need, if you are."

I've always been very happy to have such a sympathetic mother. I would then have to show her what machines they've got me hitched up to. I know she'd ask me questions if I did not.

"Mom, do you know what they've got me hitched up to?"

"I was wondering that. You know I've always been fascinated with little do-hickeys, and machines."

I pointed at the different things, and told her what they were. If I haven't said this already, in school, I was studying nursing, and I knew a great deal about these machines. But, at the time, it was the middle of the Summer, so I was starting to get a little rusty. Anyway, I showed my mother everything. Everything, but the catheter, which I just told her they had me hooked up to one. "My poor baby." was her response. You know, I've never thought of it before, but maybe saying "My poor baby." or what ever other variations there are of that saying, helps trigger an infantilistic urge in some of us? I don't know, but when ever my Mom called me baby, it would make the hair on the back of my neck stand up (I don't know why, like I said, I'm not into infantilism, but for some reason, getting called baby, by ANYBODY, turns me on ever so slightly. I guess it's like a pet name.)

When the day was over, she left with a smile on her face. He presence had lifted my spirits a great deal. I slept comfortably that night.

In the morning, I went through the same routine that I had the previous day (The exercises were ever so slightly less painful) I did not see my family that day. It was pretty dull. Until the end of the day, I was in for a hell of a surprise.

The doctor came in, and they wheeled me off into another room. I knew what they were about to do, and believe me, I knew it was going to be painful. They took out he catheter, and said "I no longer need it, this is the time to see what my bladder can put up with." When I say getting the catheter removed was painful, I mean real painful. They said it was for my own good.

They wheel me into a new room, where I fall asleep. They had given me a bathroom, and a better view of the scenery out of the window. Little did I know that I wasn't going to be using the bathroom very much, if at all.

I wake up the next morning in a puddle, both warm and damp. I'd wet the bed. What's strange is that, if memory serves me correctly. I knew exactly when I was peeing, even though I was asleep. I know it sounds funny. I had no desire to go, I just went in my sleep.

I page the nurse, and she cleans me up. She gave me the option of wearing a diaper (One of those nasty green hospital diapers), which I turned down at the time (If only I knew why). I went back to sleep.

I awake even later, this time not in a puddle. I woke up to hear my mothers voice.

I opened my eyes, and looked up at her.

"They've moved you to a new room." she says. "And took away some of the machines. You look, great."

I have to admit "I feel okay."

"That's good." she says smiling. "I can't stay very long, but I'm gonna say this before I go. Tomorrow you can come home, the doctors said so. I'll be by in the early afternoon, with a surprise."

"A surprise." I mumbled, I was pretty tired. "What type of surprise?"

"You'll see tomorrow, I'll have it then."

As if someone had suddenly turned on a switch, the bed sheets grew very damp the moment she finished that sentence. I wet myself, a second time. She did not seem to notice, but I did. This time, I did not even realize I was peeing, it just came out. At the time, I figured because she's right there, and she's my mother, I'd tell her what had just happened.

"Mom, I just had an accident. Will you get the nurse?"

"Sure, baby," she says, walking out of the room. "I'll be right back."

In a matter of minutes, she comes back with a nurse.

"What can I do for you?" the nurse asks me.

"I wet myself. Please get me some clean linens," I said in reply.

She walks out of the room, and comes back in with clean supplies My mother watches her change my bedding, and change my shirt. She then asks me if I need to be wearing a diaper. This time, I cave in, because I did not want to wet my sheets again, and I did not want to be a bother.

"Yes. This is my second accident today, it's really embarrassing to wet yourself, please get me some diapers."

She walks out of the room, for the moment.

"You know." my Mother begins to say. "You're in a hospital, and you've been in an auto accident. Wearing diapers does not make you a baby. I think it's better that you accept your need for them, instead of constantly wetting yourself. I'm proud of you."

I could tell she was trying to make me feel better, and it was working. My spirits were lifted! Unfortunately, those kind words helped trigger something. The words "I think it's better that you accept your need for them" started my wanting diapers. At the time it meant nothing, until a few weeks later, then they meant something.

In a matter of minutes, the nurse returned with a small package of diapers (I don't know why, but these ones weren't Green). Since I was able, she asked me: "Do you want me to put them on you, or do you want to?"

I looked at the package. Something about feeling like a baby getting his diaper changed turned me off. I wanted to do it myself.

"I think I'm able enough to put one on myself."

She opens the package, and sets one on the bed in front of me. I look up at her, and I look up at my mother.

"Can I have a little privacy please?" I ask.

"Certainly." my mother says, as they step outside of the room.

I looked down at the diaper. It looks exactly like a babies diaper (Like I said, not green; instead Plain white, single tapes on either side), but no dumb cartoon animals on the front, and it's considerably larger (To fit me). I open it up, and look inside. Judging by the concave(ness) inside, it's got a hell of an absorbency. I lay down flat, on the bed, and put it under my backside. I then pull the two sides together, and seal the tapes on either side. Suddenly, a very warm, comfortable feeling filled my entire body. It was like I'd been waiting my whole life to be wearing them again. Off the record: No, I did not get an erection, or any other sexual gratification, I just felt. at ease. very comfortable. "I'm wearing a diaper." I thought. "I'm wearing a diaper, and I like it." Immediately after thinking that, I put my shirt over the diaper, put the blankets over my body.

When set, I called my Mom back in. The nurse comes in with her, and sets the package under my bed, just so I could easily reach them.

The nurse said, before leaving "There are ten in this package. Call us if you need more." the nurse then leaves.

When all is calm again, my mother asks me "How do you feel, wearing a diaper?"

It's a reasonable question, if you think about it. At the time, I did not want to say something like "great" or something to that effect, because she might have looked at me funny. Instead, I said "It feels okay, I guess. It's not uncomfortable, or nothing."

She smiles, and replies "Remember, you're still a grown-up, even if you need to wear diapers."

She had drilled that into my head far enough, but I just smiled, and thanked her for the reassurance. She left soon after. Me, I lay there in my diaper, thinking about the life I was soon to return to.

I changed myself for the first time about four hours later. I reached over for the diapers, grabbed a hold of them, took off the damp one, and put on a new one. This made me feel really nice inside, I guess it was the security of wearing a diaper, and the feeling of being at ease. I put the used diaper in the trash can, and the clean ones back under my bed, just in grasp.

Well, a couple of hours later, I discovered that I could still take a crap in the privacy of a bathroom. At least I wasn't incontinent that way.

Well, I slept comfortably that night. I knew I wasn't going to wake up in a puddle. Having a diaper on actually helped me relax quite a bit.

I woke up very early the next morning. I changed myself, and got ready for the exercises that awaited me. I did them more easily than the last time. This time they actually almost did not hurt. After the exercises, I saw the doctor, whom told me that I was going to get discharged that very afternoon (earlier than they had planned), and that I should come back in three weeks for a check up, and to get the staples removed.

The day went on. I had a couple of nurses come in, and check on me. I asked one of them, "Since I'm going to leave later, is it okay if I take the package of diapers with me?"

She replies "In order to have gotten the diapers in the first place, they would have had to have been paid for, so to answer your question. yes, you can keep that opened package of diapers."

Well, I was overjoyed. I'd already used almost half of the package, but this meant that I would have something to wear, that I was going to like, for another day or two.

A nurse came by, a little later. I could hear my mother's voice, she was here to pick me up. The nurse had another package of diapers, and a set of crutches. Before I could say anything, a doctor came in. He explained my predicament to me, and told me to take it easy. When he left my mother came in. She had some clothes for me to wear, and a bag for anything I needed to bring home with me. All I really had was a couple packages of diapers, and a prescription for a heavy-duty pain killer. She packed the bag, as I carefully put on the pair of jeans she had brought me. I have to admit, with a screwed up knee, it hurt a little putting my jeans on. My knee had a brace on it, which I had noticed for the first time (I was really out of it when I was in the hospital) I had to rip my jeans along the side (Just a little) to fit into the pair of pants. Well, when all was packed, and my clothes were on, I looked at myself in the mirror. The Jeans did not conceal the diaper as much as I wished they could have, but it wasn't that obvious that I was wearing diapers. All I did to make it less obvious was untuck my shirt, and allow it to cover my diapered area.

When all set, I left my room, limping on my crutches. My mother filled out the paper work at the desk, and then we left the floor, into the elevator we went.

"So, Mom. you said you'd have a surprise for me?" I ask her.

"Yeah, I have two surprises for you. One of them is in the car, and the other one, the one I did not expect is at home."

The elevator dinged, and we both got out, and headed towards the exit. I think to myself "I can't wait until I'm back home, these surprises will definitely cheer me up." little did I know how true that was.

We got to the parking lot, I look for our an (I figured Mom would bring the van, because I was hurt, and there was a good chance I'd want to put my leg up) I sight the blue van, and we both head towards it. The windows are tinted, so it's hard to see who, or what is in there from a distance. She opens the door, and I see. my father! My father had come all the way from Japan, under such little notice, just to be with me. Believe me, I was so fucking happy I could have cried! (Forgive the language, but it's true, I had never been so happy in my life!)

"How's my son?" my father asks me.

"I've been better," I say, as my Mother opens the door behind my father to let me in.

"I was very, very worried about you, Kevin." I get off the crutches, and kneel towards my father, on my good leg. I gave him a hug, it felt very good to see him. "I'm very happy to see you, Kevin. Even though. I can only stay for a few days."

"It's okay, Father. I'm happy you're here, regardless of how long you can stay."

I get back on my crutches, and get into the back seat of the car. Things are set up so I can easily put my foot up. I take advantage, and put my leg up (I don't know the mechanics behind it, but I felt much better when I straighten my leg, and rested it against something)

My mother got in the front of the car, and closed the door. She started the engine, and we headed off back home.

"So. what have you been up to?" my Father asks me.

"Well, let me see. I'm was doing quite well in school, it's summertime now, and I was going to join Track next year. I hope to be able to."

"Good. good. Did I mention I have a surprise for you back at the house?"

"No, but mother said there was an unexpected surprise for me back there."

"Well, I hope you like it."

Well, the hospital wasn't too far from home. We were almost there, already. We live in three story house, near a good sized pond I usually swim in during the warm Summer days. I couldn't then, with my knee the was it was, and the staples in my back.

We were then at my house. All three of us got out of the car, and I slowly went inside. When inside of the house, I sat down in my favorite chair (The one in my living room) Both of my parents were around me, helping me relax. When all was settled, I turned to my Dad.

"So Dad, you said you had something you wanted to give to me?" I ask him.

"Oh yes, I will go get it now."

He leaves the room, and I turn to my Mom.

"Do you know what it is?" I ask her.

"Just watch." she mouths, pointing me in the direction of where my Dad went.

I turned back, and waited. patiently.

My Dad appears, coming out from the room. He is pulling something big by a leash, it's not too hard to figure out what it is.

"A dog!" I exclaimed. "You got me a dog, thank you father, thank you!"

About half way into the room, he stops, and says "Sit." and the dog does as it's commanded.

I get up, and grab my crutches. I wobble over to my father, and ask "What's its name?"

He smiles. "His name is Kioshi (For those of you whom don't speak Japanese, Kioshi means "quiet bear", I think it's based on some old Japanese poem, or something like that). He's a Japanese Akita. I was planning on giving him to you for your birthday, but because you were recently injured, I thought I'd give him to you now to cheer you up."

"One of the best things I've ever been given!" I exclaim. "I'll cherish him."

My father then said "Because your knees were hurt, your Mother will walk him until you get better. Okay?"

"I don't have a problem with that." I said. "As long as I can keep him."

"Yes. He's yours."

Well, the day went on. My father and I discussed what I had been doing, and what I was planning. He asked me if I wanted to talk about the accident, and I said yes. I explained what had happened, and explained my situation. It wasn't until I got to the word "incontinent", that he started asking questions. You see, my father does not speak good English, and he was unfamiliar with that word at the time.

"What's is incontinent?" he asked me. "When you say you're going to be incontinent for an ungiven time, what do you mean?

Well, all I had to do was stand up, and pull my pants down a good 1* inches.

"Ah, your Mother told me about this." he says, looking at my Diaper. "I am very, very sympathetic to your wants and needs." he clears his throat. "So tell me. I gather incontinent means you can't not control your bodily functions?"

"I don't hold my liquids very well." I say, pulling my pants back up, and sitting back down. "Any other questions?"

"No."

Well, the two days went by. To spend time together, my Father rented some movies, and we played some video games together. I found myself changing my diaper many times during those days. It's hard to believe, but I was starting to feel my need to go. It was sort of a pain in my upper back, followed by a sharp pain lower stomach. I did not bother trying to hold it in, it was too painful, and I wanted to keep wearing diapers.

My mother got me more diapers. She got me probably two hundred dollars of them. Each was a different brand (Some of them were Attends; others were Goodnights, which did not work too well; and others were Depends, which I did not like one bit) In the end, she was buying Goodnights, and Attends, the best of the two. I like the Attends better, because they were like the ones the Hospital gave me (The re-sealable kind) and they are VIRTUALLY invisible under a pair of boxer shorts and Jeans. The only hint to the fact that I was wearing a diaper was the little crinkling noise it might make when I moved my legs.

My Father left, and I was healing. I'd still change my diapers, which I'd grown fond of doing. It was only a matter of time before I no longer needed to wear the diapers.

Well, I'll flash forward a couple weeks, because nothing interesting happened. The only real interesting thing that happened (That's important to the story), was the pain started to go away. Instead of feeling a pain when I needed to go, I felt like I used to, the only difference was I'd have to go REAL badly all of the sudden, and of coarse, I'd try to make it (I have to admit, when my mother potty trained me, she did a good job of it), but I'd rarely make it, and I started accepting these accidents, and as I did not make it in time, it became a lot easier "Not to make it in time".

I went to the doctor for a check-up. He removed the staples (I expected it to be more painful than it actually was) He then examined my back, and said "Well, you're looking much better. Are you still not able to hold your pee like you used to?"

"Well, I'm still in diapers, but I'm making it more often, but I still have an accident once and a while that keeps me from being able to hold it like I used to."

"As long as you're getting better. Give him another week, then bring him back to me."

Well the week went on, and something happened that changes this story traumatically. I was able to hold my pee again. My mother was overjoyed when she asked me how that was going, and I told her (I don't like lying to my parents, if they ask me a direct question) She went and told my father, and he was happy to hear about it, too.

I went back to the doctors, and he was happy to see the progress I had made. He took the brace off of my leg, and gave me a smaller one. I could comfortably fit into a pair of pants, comfortably stand up, and I could walk with a limp. The only problem was. I was back using the toilet. No more diapers for me, or so my mother thought.

I started to get desperate. We lived close enough to a Wal-Mart, that I could easily buy my own if I really wanted to. I never worked up the courage to. I had another alternative. I thought about peeing my pants again, and again, and again; maybe that would get me put back into diapers. I peed my pants a few times, and it felt pretty gross. I did not like the feeling of it dribbling down my leg. I wet the bed a two times, in the morning, I'd just empty my bladder into my sweat pants (I used to sleep in sweat pants). It felt too gross to do constantly (Granted my mother thought it was because of the accident the I was wetting the bed and wetting my pants, but at the same time she thought I was doing pretty good, because I had only wet the bed a few times, and she's the type of mother to think that "No one's perfect.")

Well, I went back to work at 7/11. I worked happily, and I have yet to get into another auto accident yet.

I got so desperate, that I went to Yahoo, and put in "Buying adult diapers". I was surprised by what I came up with. I came up with a sight under the headline of "Tips for teens who want to wear diapers" What came out of that site was the best info I'd ever gotten. The best info I got from that sight was: That it's normal if some teens want to wear diapers, and a lot of them do. If I wanted to wear diapers during the day (And have no one know about it), first thing I had to do was get my hands on them. I had to go in the early morning (Like around six or something) and purchase them (I bought myself some Attends) The thing that worked up my courage is that most of the cashiers really don't pay attention to what you are buying, and some of the older ones don't know what they are! Well, I got a hold of the Attends, and it was time for the second step. If I wanted to wear them during the day, I'd have to have something to cover up the damn crinkling noise. The solution the web site gave me was to get a pair of wind breaker sweat pants. I had plenty of them, it was only a matter of getting them out of my closet. I put on the attends, a pair of boxer shorts, and the wind breaker sweat pants, and it was literally impossible to tell I was wearing a diaper.

The weeks went on, and I got better. No one ever knew I was wearing a diaper. Before the end of the summer, I had another bout of knee surgery, which put me down for another three weeks. After that, I was up and about just in time for school. But before school started, something rather rash happened.

I was just getting off of he Internet (The day I discovered this site) and I walked past my mother in the Hall. I was getting ready to take Kioshi for a walk.

"Hey Kevin, can I talk to you for a second?" my mother asks, as I pass her.

"Sure Mom." I innocently say. "About what?"

I follow her into her room, and she sits down on the bed.

"Kevin, last week I had a conversation with Mrs. Benton." she sighed. "Apparently her son was going into pornographic sites. She found out about that, by checking the history folder, something I recently checked just for laughs, on our computer. I found some pretty weird stuff. Stuff about advice for teens who want to wear diapers, and other paraphernalia about people in diapers. Tell me, Kevin; why do you look at this stuff? Do you look at it for laughs, or do you take it seriously. Please tell me the truth."

That was the first time my mother ever said that to me. "Please tell me the truth." I wasn't about to lie to her, I'd tell her the answers to anything she asked me.

"I take is seriously, Mom." I say, in reply. It's strange, but I did not feel any shame (Nor do I now) for what I've done.

"Well, I read what you read at these sights. I've noticed you've been recently wearing wind breaker sweat pants. They recommend that if you want to hide the fact that you're wearing a diaper, you should wear those types of pants. " she cleared her throat. "I'd like to take a look at what you've got on under your pants, and boxers, please." she requested. It's interesting that I never actually receive orders from my parents, but I am inclined to comply to their requests.

"Okay, I will. But I fear that you will not like what you see."

She smiles.

"I'll never judge you. As long as your my baby, and your not hurting anybody, I understand your wants and needs."

I stepped away from my mother, and pulled my pants and boxer shorts down a good two inches, showing her what I was wearing underneath. Her facial expression did not change, and in a matter of seconds, she said "Okay, you can pull them up," in a normal tone. I pulled my pants up, and made eye contact with her.

"Do you have anything you want to say, Mom?" I ask her, patting her on the shoulder.

"The human mind is a very strange thing," she said. "It's not my place to stop you from doing what comes natural to you. If you want to wear diapers that's fine with me; hell I'll even buy them for you. Just let me ask you this. If you can answer me: Why? Why do you wear diapers? Is it sexual, is it emotional; what do you have to say for yourself?"

"You could call it a security problem, Mom." I say, still making eye contact. "In diapers, I feel comfortable, and safe. I feel less paranoid, and less confused. I'm happy you let me stay in diapers, I'm going to wear them all the time, everyday."

"A security problem, egh? Can I ask you another question?" she said, apparently trying very hard to think about how to word her question right.

"Sure, Mom." I say, in reply.

"When did you discover your liking of diapers? Was it when you got hurt?"

"Yes, Mom." I say, in reply.

"Are you sure you want to wear diapers all the time?"

"Yes, Mom."

"You still use the toilet, don't you?"

"Only to crap, Mom."

"I have nothing more to say, but I'll close by saying this. I'm going to have to tell your father about this. I have a feeling he won't know what to say. Don't worry, he's got an open mind, and I'm sure he'll be understanding. Do you understand what I have to do?"

"Yes, Mom."

Well, she told my Father about her discovery over the phone. He actually thought she was joking at first, because he'd never heard of such a thing, but after some discussing it over the phone, my father had quite a bit to say: "If he wants to be in diapers, that's okay with me. He says he's got a security problem, see if you can get him some help, someone to talk to, like a therapist, or some other mentor. I wish I were in town, because I feel this is something that is better to be discussed face-to-face, but I can't come until his birthday. The fact that he wants to wear diapers does not change my opinion of him. He's still my boy, and I love him dearly, I just feel that this is a very bizarre hobby for him to take up. I wish I could stay on longer, but I have to go. I'll close by saying: You have my support." With those words he hung up. My mother and I really did not have much to discuss over the issue, the day went on as if nothing had happened.

The days went on, and Summer was coming to an end, until I got a call from my girl friend, Lauren. She had been in Arizona all Summer, and had just gotten back. She wanted to see me, at my place. Of coarse, I said "Yes" in a heartbeat, and she was to come over the next day. We were to do great stuff together. I had a whole list of movies for Lauren to watch (We really like to watch bizarre movies together. The movies my father had rented I had made copies of, and she showed interest in watching them) I had Fritz the Cat; Evil Dead; Dead alive; Heavy metal and Meet the Feebles, not to be confused with Meet the Beatles, or Meet the Deedles (Which was a very bad film) this one is with puppets, whom massacre each other at the end.

Well, I had her over, and we watches most of those movies. We were watching Meet the Feebles, and we were. enjoying each others company. We were kissing, and I had my hand under her skirt, feeling her up between her legs. She went into my pants, and was very surprised by what she found.

"Hey, Kevin," she says, pulling her lips from mine. "I just went into your pants, and I felt something rather strange. It feels like the elastic top to a diaper. I thought you said you are over the incontinence from the accident. Why are you wearing a diaper?"

I got up, straightened my back, and sat up against my pillow

"Now, the reason I'm your boy friend is because you understand me, right?"

"Yeah, Kevin, I understand you," she said, giggling. "But I'm lost to why you're still diapering yourself."

I cleared my throat.

"The reason I'm doing that is because. I want to." I sighted. "I do it because it feels good, it makes me relax."

"I heard about this. Isn't that a form of infantilism? Are you a AB?"

"Not exactly." I say, standing up. "I don't like dressing up like a baby, or acting like one, I'm only into the diapers. The word for that is 'DL' or diaper lover. I love diapers, and I'm not going to pretend I don't."

"Well, Kevin. I'm going to be honest with you. I always wondered what a diaper felt like. Would you mind if I asked you to diaper me?"

I knew right off the bat she'd get a sexual rise out of my diapering her. I'd read all about this type of play, and I was more than game to try it. You see, I don't believe in sex before marriage, but I do believe in sexual acts, as long as they don't get out of hand (I had my hand up her skirt while we were kissing). Besides, I knew I'd get a chance to look at her pussy, and I wanted to see it.

"Sure, just lie down on my bed, and I'll get everything set up.

I went into my dresser, and got a diaper ready. I did not know if it would fit, because I grew quite a bit over the Summer. When the summer first started, I was 115, the same weight as her. But because I had been less active than I usually was, I weighed 150 (At 5'10", I was pretty solid) I hoped it would fit.

She lay on the bed. She was wearing a Green-black plaid skirt, unless someone looked up her skirt, no one would know she had a diaper on. I approach her, and open the diaper. I pulled the skirt up, and looked at her panties. She was wearing plain white panties (She obviously was having her monthly visitor, because I could see she was wearing a pad. I pulled her panties down to her knees, and looked at the birth giving parts of her body. She was sixteen, so she's got pubic hair.

"Raise your bottom." I said.

She raises her backside a couple of inches, and I slide the diaper under her. I pull the two sides together, and taped it up nicely. She let out a smile, as I lowered her plaid skirt, and backed up (She apparently got a little rise out of the whole diapering thing)

"Okay, you can stand up, now."

She gets up, panties still hanging down at her knees. She takes them off, and puts them in a pocket in her skirt. She then looks at me.

"It fits." she says smiling. "It fits, and. I like it!" she picks up her skirt, and looks down at her diaper. She lets out another smile, and looks up at me. "Thank you."

"If you want more, I can give you a few more."

"That's good." she says, lowering her skirt. "I'll take as many as you can give me."

"I'll give you ten, but no more. If you want more, you can get them at Walmart."

She picks up her skirt, and looks down at the diaper.

"I need to pee." she says. "It's hard to just go where you stand."

"You're telling me." I say laughing. "Tell me, do you have to go badly?"

"Enough so that if I wasn't wearing a diaper, I'd cross my legs."

"Lay down on the bed." I said, pointing at my bed. "I know of a way to get it out of ya."

She lays down on the mattress, and I approach.

"What are you going to do?" she asks.

I knew she was really ticklish. The thing that gave me this idea was when we were younger (About kindergarten age), tickled her for a very short amount of time, but she was so ticklish that I caused her to take a nice, long pee in her overalls (I say it was nice because when she had the accident, she did not cry, she giggled, well after I stopped tickling her. She enjoyed the feeling of the warm pee filling her panties, dampening her jeans, and dribbling down her leg. It makes me wonder it she has some pants peeing fetish) Her parents diapered her for seven years after that accident (Because she was constantly peeing her pants and wetting the bed) She was diapered all the way to the beginning of middle school!

Without a word, I start tickling her. In a matter of seconds, she's begging for me to stop, so I tickle her even harder. She gets what I'm trying to do, and in about a minutes time, she says "Okay, I'm wet, I'm wet!!!" and I stop tickling her about ten seconds later.

I get up off of her, and she lifts her skirt. The entire front of the diaper was a dark yellow color, and my bed sheets were a little damp.

"I guess you really had to go." I said. "Don't worry, I'll change you."

I get another diaper, and change her. I threw the saturated diaper in the trash.

We continue watching the movies that I'd made copies of. At the end of all the movies, she spends the night. We find something very interesting to do that I want to share.

I brought Kioshi into my room, and closed the door.

"Kioshi want to wear a diaper?" she asks him, opening up a diaper that she'd poked a hole in the bottom of (For his tail) with my knife.

I start to rub Kioshi's stomach. He falls over on his back, and starts to pant with euphoria. She opens the diaper, and I raise his back side. She slips it on him, and closes it up tapping the two ends together. Again, another prefect fit! There were three diapered individuals in my room. It did not stay on very long, though; Kioshi soon tore it off. It was funny while it lasted, though.

That night we slept together. It was a good night. I woke up the next morning, with my hand in warm water, wearing a soaked diaper. She'd done that bed-wetting trick on me, which at the time I thought was pretty funny (I did it on her another time when she slept in my room)

It was a nice get together, and she left with some diapers in the bottom of her book bag soon after. To this day she still wears diapers.

More weeks pass, and school starts. Because school has started again, I'm forced to quit my job at 7/11 (Work really kills my grades). In place of that job, I took a laid back job at Wall-mart (They had an opening my friends told me)

No-one at school ever found out that I was wearing diapers. I wore them the whole year. They found out about my girl friend, though, but they were very merciful, because some of her grade school friends were present, and they said that "She's still in diapers. She's been in them all her life." and things straightened themselves out.

Anyway. The years go by, with me still in diapers, and I eventually graduate. . I study at home, and my girl friend eventually moves in with me. I'm still at home to this day, my girl and I are engaged to be married. My father gave me A LOT of money, and I soon plan to move out. I put most of it in the bank. This has been my story, thanks for reading.