'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 1
--------------------------------------

	I was to turn eight years just a few days after 
Thanksgiving, though my grandmother always gave me my 
birthday present on the big Turkey Day instead as this was 
the day when my family visited with Grandma for the big 
feast. My twelve-year-old sister Amy and I had stayed with 
Grandma for a few days over the previous summer. At bedtime 
when I stripped down to just my underpants and a shirt, 
Grandma noted how all of my underwear was so dingy and 
stained, both in the front and the rear. Seeing that I 
needed some new underpants, she decided to buy me some new 
briefs for my upcoming birthday. She knew that I especially 
enjoyed the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers, so she bought me 
a three-pack of boys' briefs colorfully printed in this 
theme.
	I felt a little embarrassed to receive underwear as a 
birthday gift, especially with my sister and two cousins 
present, but to me, it was perhaps the best gift I had ever 
received and I looked forward to wearing something that 
didn't reveal my body's elimination problems, at least not 
yet. I have two separate, but equally embarrassing problems. 
The first of these problems is that I am a bedwetter. My 
mother often talked about-- or threatened, as I perceived 
it-- putting me into diapers, but my father often pre-empted 
this measure from being taken. Now that my parents were 
divorced, I faced a greater chance of getting put into 
diapers now. I hadn't been diapered for bedwetting since I 
outgrew the largest size available at the supermarket. After 
I outgrew diapers I wore training pants, which I also 
eventually outgrew as I continued wetting my bed.
	Rather than to continue handling my wetting problems 
with diapers and absorbent underpants, my parents felt that 
I would overcome my bedwetting by making me deal with the 
consequences of a wet bed and the embarrassment of wearing 
pee-stained underwear. My bedwetting problem was now only 
handled by using a rubber liner on my bed.
	With my father out of the family, it was now entirely 
up to my mother to decide how to deal with my accidents. She 
felt that now I was eight years old and showing no signs of 
progress, perhaps putting me back in diapers was the only 
choice. In fact, I was now wetting my bed more often than I 
used to, which I blamed on the stress of the divorce.
	I also have a tendency to poop my pants. I hate using a 
toilet in any place except for home, and even there I don't 
like having to go Number Two. My sister teases me for 
stinking up the bathroom or she points out that I didn't 
wipe, which was often quite evident as I didn't always 
remember to flush the toilet when I was done. Because I 
couldn't keep my underwear clean in the first place, I never 
bothered to wipe after a bowel movement and this only added 
to the prominent brown stains in the seats of my once-white 
briefs. My mother and father often scolded me for not 
wiping, even though my underwear was too stained up for 
wiping my bottom to make any difference.
	At first, my parents refused to let me have the new 
underwear. They felt that since I wet my bed and pooped my 
pants that I should be punished by being forced to go around 
in my dingy, stained underwear for not handling my body's 
wastes more responsibly. My mother and grandmother had a 
long talk about the issue, and eventually, Mom was talked 
into giving me a fresh start. Get rid of all my old, dirty 
underwear and give me some brand new, clean pairs that I 
would want to try to keep clean.
	Now that I was being given another chance, Mom became 
very serious about teaching me to keep both ends of my 
underpants clean. She bought me a couple packages of brand 
new pairs of white briefs and told me that if I wanted Santa 
Claus to bring me any toys for Christmas then I would have 
to keep my underwear clean. Otherwise, I would get diapers 
for Christmas instead.
	I returned to school the following Monday after a four- 
day reprieve over Thanksgiving. My actual birthday was on 
the day before and I was filling giddy about becoming an 
eight-year- old at long 0last. I had on my brand new Power 
Rangers underwear, proud to be wearing them and enjoying 
their newness.
	Trouble began that day when I had also been holding 
back a bowel movement since morning. I especially hated 
using the toilets at school for anything but for peeing in. 
The other kids made fun of me at the beginning of the school 
year when I went into the bathroom to poop. They all knew it 
was me that was farting so loudly in the stall and stinking 
up the entire bathroom. After that incident I vowed never to 
use a toilet at school again for a bowel movement, no matter 
how badly I had to go. On this particular day I was pushing 
my limits.
	I made all the way through the day to the last bell, 
sitting on my heel and tightening up my buttocks to hold 
back my bowel movement until I got home. By then, a big 
snowstorm had rolled in, which would make the ride home on 
the bus take longer than I expected. It was the first big 
storm of the winter season. People were usually not prepared 
for it and cars were sliding off the road or driving very 
slowly. The rest of the kids on the bus and I got stuck 
waiting in backed-up traffic. I figured I should have been 
home by the time the bus finally got to its first stop.
	I couldn't hold it in too much longer. I was so afraid 
of losing it now and ruining the new briefs I was wearing. I 
was wedged between the bus window and my sister and her 
friend Marlene who had sat down with us on the crowded bus, 
so I couldn't very easily get into a position to sit on my 
heel. I tried to pinch my buttocks together, but it did me 
no good as the pressure in my bowels gave. Suddenly I let 
another messy accident unload into my pants and also into my 
new underwear! This was the first time I pooped my pants in 
the presence of other classmates. I tried to act as if 
nothing happened, but when some kid asked, "man, who 
farted?" I knew that I was in trouble.
	Everybody knew that I was the source of the foul odor 
and they could tell it was more than just a fart. They 
laughed at me and called me every name that a typical grade- 
school-aged kid fascinated with bathroom humor could think 
of. Amy was so embarrassed and some of the kids even started 
laughing at her and falsely accusing her of doing the same 
thing.
	I cried all the way home from the bus stop. My sister 
scolded me for the embarrassment that I had caused her. The 
deep snow accumulation and the sharp wind blowing against us 
made the walk home even more difficult. Then, to make 
matters worse, I slipped and fell on some ice, and as I 
landed on my butt, my weight splattered the mess around in 
my pants even more. The cold air froze the moisture in the 
seat of my pants, making the whole ordeal even more 
uncomfortable.
	I felt so ashamed that I ruined a pair of my Power 
Rangers underwear. I knew that they would never be the same 
again and would always bear a big brown stain in the seat, 
which even the large print on the back of them could not 
conceal. After I cleaned myself up and changed I tried to 
wash out my briefs in the bathtub since I didn't know how to 
run the washing machine and Amy was unsympathetic and 
unwilling to help me. My efforts did little to restore my 
underwear to a clean state and rid them of the 
incriminatingly indelible evidence.
	Mom came home late that evening because of the 
snowstorm. She was tired and cranky from trying to get home 
fighting traffic in such weather. The last thing she needed 
to deal with was my dirty underpants. I didn't want to tell 
her about what happemed, but Amy was quick to say something 
about my accident.
	"Mom! Johnny pooped his pants again!" she said.
	"What else is new?" she sighed. "He'll never learn, 
will he?"
	"Nope, he won't! He did it on the bus, and he did it in 
his new Power Rangers underwear, too!"
	I ran off and hid in my room, but my mother quickly 
located me under my bed. She made me come out to talk to her 
about the problem. As usual, the threat of putting me in 
diapers came up, and while I used to think my mother was 
just crying wolf when she threatened to put me back in 
diapers, I cringed and cowered at such a thought, realizing 
now that Mom was more serious about it.
	The next day things were back to normal and school was 
still in session in spite of the storm. Like other kids, I 
hoped for a cancellation of school, but I had an especially 
good reason to want to stay home. I now had a reputation of 
being known as "Stinky Pants" at school.
	On the other front-- literally the front-- I had my 
recent bedwetting incidents to deal with. I had gone for 
over a week without wetting my bed and I began to feel more 
hopeful about overcoming at least one of my bathroom-related 
problems. One cold winter night I woke up to discover that I 
had wet my bed again! I exclaimed, "oh, no!" as I reached 
down and felt the dampness in my crotch. My sheets were 
soaked in urine as were my underpants and my T-shirt. As 
luck would have it, I was wearing another pair of the Power 
Rangers underwear, now tarnished with a big piss stain in 
the fly front. I got up and turned the light on to survey 
the damage. My bed had a big wet spot right through the 
center of it as I expected. I looked at my alarm clock which 
read 3:07 A.M. There was nothing I could do about it at this 
hour.
	I knew the routine all too well. I stripped off my 
cold, wet underwear and T-shirt and put on some dry ones, 
which I hoped would stay dry until I got up again to go to 
school. I put on a gleaming white pair of underpants which 
were still in their package with the strip of cardboard 
folded up inside. I grabbed a spare blanket from my closet 
and then picked up my pillow from the bed. I lied down and 
curled up on the floor of my bedroom right next to the heat 
vent where I could keep warm and hopefully resume my sleep. 
As I thought about my other recent incidents of bedwetting, 
I thought, "Why does this keep happening?"
	6:15 A.M. arrived with the jarring buzz of the alarm 
clock. I had set it back fifteen minutes earlier to wake 
myself up ahead of time so that I could move back to my bed. 
My mother was due in at 6:30 to check on me and see that I 
was awake and I would be seen in my bed when my Mom turned 
the light on. Right around 6:30 the light clicked on as I 
had been expecting. I pretended to be asleep, but I was 
already awake and more alert than my mother expected me to 
be. I was lying on the edge of my bed where it was still 
dry. I got up and promptly went out to the kitchen table to 
eat my breakfast before getting dressed. My mother had her 
back turned while she was busy getting out the cereal and 
the milk, and therefore didn't notice that I had changed my 
underwear overnight as I entered the kitchen.
	"My, you're unusually rambunctious this morning!" my 
mother said as she heard me behind her pulling up a chair 
sooner than she expected. By the time she turned around my 
underwear was out of view. I sat down at the table and began 
eating my cereal. I felt uneasy about having to tell Mom 
about wetting my bed again and I hoped to avoid discussing 
the matter altogether, even though I knew she would find out 
eventually. By the time I got finished eating my cereal Amy 
was on her way into the kitchen. Amy always got herself 
dressed before eating breakfast, unlike me, as I always 
waited until after I ate before putting on my clothes. I 
also didn't like sitting at the kitchen table with my sister 
as we fought often. As I left from the table, my sister 
watched me walk back towards my bedroom. She noticed that I 
was wearing plain white underpants instead of the Power 
Rangers underwear.
	"Didn't you have on your Power Rangers underwear last 
night?" she pointed out.
	Suddenly, everything stopped. Mom looked up from the 
newspaper she was reading at the table. She took a look at 
me donning a white pair of Fruit of the Looms and asked me 
why I changed my underwear. I knew I had no time to make up 
a plausible excuse, so I told her the truth, plain and 
simple.
	"I wet my bed again," I confessed humbly. "I'm sorry."
	Mom set her newspaper down and followed me to my 
bedroom. She went in and took a look at my bed. She pulled 
back the sheets and looked at the spot on it. The air stank 
of urine.
	"Johnny!" she scolded me.
	"I couldn't help it!" I cried. My mother walked over to 
my clothes pile in the corner and retrieved the wet pair of 
Power Rangers underpants.
	"Remember what I said about Santa giving you toys?" she 
reminded me as she held up the wet briefs by the waistband.
	"Yes," I sniffled.
	"Now hurry and get dressed!" my mother ordered me as 
she hastily stripped the bed and carried the sheets out to 
the washing machine.
	"Can you remember to transfer these to the dryer when 
you get home?" I faintly heard Mom talking to Amy out in the 
kitchen.
	I went through my entire day at school thinking about 
having wet my bed again. Every time after I wet my bed the 
night before I would go to school the following day and look 
around my classroom and wonder how many of the other kids in 
that small room also wet their beds. I felt like I was all 
alone and nobody else wet his bed. I had a feeling that 
there were some others who didn't wipe their butts well 
enough to keep their underwear free of skid marks, however, 
and I also knew of one kid who pooped his pants in class 
last year. I knew just how he must have felt when it 
happened to him.
	After my sister and I got home from school she went 
straight to the washing machine to transfer my bed sheets 
into the dryer.
	"Just think, Johnny," she said. "I wouldn't be doing 
this if it weren't for you wetting your bed!"
	"I can't help it!" I defended. "Do you think I do it on 
purpose?"
	"I wonder if you do," she answered, though It was meant 
to be a rhetorical question only.
	"You don't wipe your butt, for one thing," she 
elaborated.
	"I do, too!" I argued, though she was right.
	"You're never in there long enough!" Amy contested as 
she went on to state her other observations about my use of 
the bathroom.
	"I've heard you go in there, fart it out, flush, and 
then open the door. Sometimes you don't even flush, and I've 
gone in after you, and I look in the toilet, and all I see 
are just your stinky little turds floating around! There's 
no toilet paper, so I know you don't always wipe your butt! 
Maybe that's why on some boys' underwear they put a picture 
of a cartoon character on the butt, so nobody sees that you 
didn't wipe!"
	Having heard enough, I yelled "Shut up!" and tried to 
hit my sister.
	"Remember!" Amy said as she backed away. "Santa sees 
you when you're sleeping, and he knows when you're awake!" 
Mentioning Santa Claus usually helped to get me to behave 
since I still believed in the red-suited man.
	"And he knows when you wet your bed and poop your 
pants!" Amy added. She turned her head away and suppressed 
her laugh. She just loved teasing me and going along with me 
about my belief in Santa Claus.
	"Will he still bring me toys?" I asked with a concerned 
tone.
	"Only if you don't wet your bed and poop your pants. 
Otherwise, he'll bring you diapers!"
	"But I'm eight years old now!" I cried. "Only babies 
wear diapers!"
	"You were still wearing them when you were five," Amy 
reminded her me. "And besides, Santa doesn't care how old 
you are. He brings diapers to all the little boys in the 
world who wet their beds! He also brings diapers to all the 
boys who poop their pants and don't wipe their butts!"
	"I won't let it happen again!" I pleaded.
	"Tell that to Santa when we go to the mall this 
weekend!" Amy said.

'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 2
--------------------------------------

	I wet my bed again later that week and by the end of 
the third week in December I had wet my bed three more 
times! It seemed like I was going to find that jolly ol' St. 
Nick would forego his toy bag and reach into the bag of 
diapers that he brought with him while making his global 
Christmas Eve rounds. The thought of getting diapers made me 
think about Santa Claus differently than before, forcing 
myself to doubt for the first time that he even existed, 
though the thought quickly perished from my youthful mind.
	Saturday afternoon arrived, and Christmas break had 
begun, no school until next year! I went with my mother and 
Amy to the mall as we had been looking forward to doing all 
week. Mom split off to do her shopping while Amy and I went 
around to look in other stores and gather more ideas to 
fulfill our Christmas wishes. Amy had to stay with me and 
keep a watch on me. I went through the toy store and said, 
"I want this, and I want this, and I want this..."
	Seeing that I would most likely want to spent a lot of 
time in the toy store, Amy decided to leave me there and 
look in the clothing store across the mall. After a half 
hour or so had passed, we met again with Mom and we ate 
lunch at the food court. After we ate, I asked if I could go 
see Santa Claus. Mom looked down the busy mall and she could 
see where Santa Claus was sitting. There was a long line of 
kids and their parents mobbed all around Santa.
	"I don't think so, Johnny. Look at that line!" Mom 
exclaimed.
	"But I want to talk to him!" I pleaded.
	Mom tried to dissuade me from going to see Santa Claus, 
but I was still a firm believer in spite of my recent lapse 
of doubting Santa Claus' existence and I insisted on talking 
to him.
	"What for?" Mom asked. "To talk him out of bringing you 
diapers? I think he's pretty much made up his mind on that 
one!"
	"I just wanna tell him what toys I want!"
	"Oh, okay," Mom groaned. "Amy, can you take him to see 
Santa?"
	"Sure," she said without any reluctance. "He'll tell 
you that he's bringing you diapers," she said to me, "and in 
front of all those other kids, too!"
	"Santa wouldn't do that!" I denied Amy.
	Mom said she would be back in a half hour to meet with 
us again and we would leave at that time. Amy escorted me 
over to see Santa Claus, where I stepped in line and stood 
behind dozens of other kids-- most of them younger than me-- 
waiting to give Santa Claus their wishes. Amy used this time 
to browse in a couple more clothing stores.
	The line slowly inched forward. While I was standing 
there I felt myself badly needing to poop. I managed to 
stave off the urge once already when I was sitting down to 
eat. I was already on my way to see Santa Claus and I felt 
that this was probably my only opportunity to see the big 
man in the red suit. I didn't want to step out of the line 
and lose my place. Mom wasn't going to wait for me again, so 
I knew not to miss my chance. Just like the restrooms at 
school, I also didn't like having to use public restrooms to 
poop since I felt so embarrassed by making sounds and odors 
that others in the restroom would sense.
	About twenty-five minutes had passed before I finally 
got to the front of the line. Amy had finished her shopping 
and she was waiting for me on the other side of the crowd. 
Mom had since then joined her in the wait. At long last it 
was my turn to sit on Santa's lap to tell him that I was a 
good boy and to tell him about all the toys I wanted. I 
tried to keep a straight face as I talked to Santa Claus, 
but the pressure in my bowels was building. I couldn't very 
easily cross my legs where I was. Suddenly, right there, 
while sitting on Santa Claus' lap, with dozens of other kids 
and their parents at the scene, I pooped in my pants! 
Without even saying goodbye to Santa, I suddenly fled from 
his lap and went running to my impatiently waiting mother. I 
didn't even take a candy cane from one of the elves standing 
by. Santa was waving his hand in front of his face to fan 
away the odors of my accident.
	I was extremely humiliated! The back of my pants was 
wet from the load of poop I discharged. The kids standing in 
line saw me suffering in this terrible ordeal and they all 
laughed at me. My sister and my mother didn't give me any 
sympathy as they were also embarrassed about the situation. 
They quickly escorted me out of the mall. Upon reaching the 
parking lot, I was scolded all the way to the car as we 
trudged through the snow and slush.
	"Why didn't you go to the bathroom?!" my mother 
demanded to know.
	"There was a line!" I cried. "I didn't wanna lose my 
place!"
	"You mean you couldn't even hold it while you were 
waiting? How long were you holding it?"
	"Just a few minutes," I sobbed. "I don't like using 
other bathrooms, just at home!"
	"Really, and why is that?"
	"Because everybody will laugh at me for pooping and 
stinking up the bathroom!"
	"It looks like you did that anyway, only it wasn't in 
the bathroom, but in front of hundreds of other people! You 
really embarrassed me, Johnny!"
	"And me!" Amy added.
	When we got to the car, my mother removed the contents 
of one of the plastic bags she was carrying and then she 
laid the empty plastic bag flat on the seat. She told me to 
sit on it. I climbed into the car and Mom slammed the door. 
I continued to cry as I waited to get home. The smell of my 
accident was stinking up the car, and in spite of the cold 
weather, everybody cracked their windows to let the foul air 
out.
	When I got home I went into the bathroom to clean 
myself up. I stripped off my pants and then my underwear. It 
seemed to be rare bad luck for me as I had now ruined all 
three pairs of my Power Rangers underwear on their maiden 
voyages, so to speak. This accident was so huge. Lots of 
smelly poop coated the entire back half of my underpants and 
the print on the seat of my briefs did no good to conceal 
what had happened. I was especially upset that out of all 
the white underpants I could have worn instead, this was the 
day I would have an accident and ruin my Power Rangers 
underwear! It was Saturday, however, which I chose as a 
special day to wear them.
	After I got myself cleaned up I left my soiled clothes 
in the bathroom and went into my room to put on another pair 
of underwear and some pants. My mother told me to go back 
into the bathroom and get my dirty clothes off the floor and 
to bring them to her.  I cried again as I shamefully carried 
the poop-covered briefs and pants out to the laundry room 
where my mother was waiting.
	"You did it in your Power Rangers underwear, too!" my 
mother exclaimed. "It looks like Santa Claus won't be 
bringing you any new underwear, unless you consider 
*diapers* to be underwear!"
	Mom then threw the ruined underpants into the garbage 
and said, "You know these are too ruined now!" She handed me 
my pants and told me to throw them in my hamper. She also 
said that I would have to do my own laundry tonight if I 
wanted any clean pants to wear.
	Later that evening Mom had a Christmas party to go to. 
She expected to be gone late, so my sister and I would have 
the evening to ourselves. Mom left at about 6:30 and gave us 
some money so we could order a pizza and have it delivered. 
Only a few minutes had passed since Mom left. Again I had 
yet another pooping accident in my pants! This was the first 
time in awhile since I could recall messing my pants twice 
in one day. I tried to be discreet about it as I got up from 
my chair to go into the bathroom, but Amy was too perceptive 
to ignore the wet spot on my jeans and the smell that filled 
the air.
	"Did it again, didn't you?" she said as I thought I had 
made it to the bathroom without my sister knowing what had 
happened. I spent several minutes in the bathroom cleaning 
myself up. I also used this moment to cry as I was so 
distraught by this accident. I felt that my chances of 
looking good to Santa Claus were diminishing greatly.
	I walked back to my bedroom completely naked as I 
carried my crap-filled jeans and underpants with me. I went 
into my bedroom and dropped my clothes into my hamper, 
spreading the fresh fecal matter onto other clothing in the 
pile. I went to my underwear drawer and selected a pair that 
was already stained so that if I had another accident it 
wouldn't really matter. I had another pair of clean pants, 
fortunately. I put these on and I went back out to join my 
sister, who had since then ordered the pizza.
	As it was a busy Saturday night, the pizza wasn't 
expected for forty-five minutes. During this time I felt 
that I had to poop again! I had plenty of warning, and the 
bathroom wasn't that far away. But I let myself have another 
accident! I felt as if I didn't care anymore. I knew I was 
to do my own laundry tonight, but I decided to let it wait 
until I felt better about the situation I was in. I didn't 
even bother to get up to change right away, but my sister 
still detected the strong odor of my poop. She confirmed her 
suspicions and took a deep whiff of the air.
	"Phew! Johnny! Not again!" she groaned.
	"I can't help it!" I cried.
	"We do have a toilet in this house, you know," my 
sister remarked snidely. "You ought to try using it 
sometime!"
	With my head shamefully hung low, I dragged my feet as 
I entered the bathroom and dealt with yet another mess I 
created in my pants. I felt so hopeless now and feared that 
I would have another accident for sure. After I cleaned up I 
quickly strode naked past my sister and went to my bedroom 
to change into clean underpants again.
	I put on another clean pair of underwear and then I 
began to search for a clean pair of pants. I couldn't find 
any, so I searched high and low for something to wear. I 
went back to my hamper to retrieve one of the two pairs that 
I had already worn and deposited in my laundry. Much to my 
surprise, I found out that they also got poop smeared onto 
them from the first pair of soiled pants I dropped onto the 
pile. I thought about wearing a pair of my shorts, only to 
remember that my Mom gave them all away after the summer 
weather ended since I had outgrown them all. I finally 
resigned myself to going around in my underwear for the rest 
of the evening. I figured I would need to get ready for bed 
sooner or later anyway.
	As I sat down in front of my sister she noticed that I 
had on just my underwear and she did not trust that one 
single layer of cotton covering my behind to contain any 
accidents. She didn't want me to take any chances.
	"Hold it!" she said.
	"What?"
	"You have another accident and you're gonna spill shit 
all over that floor!"
	"I am not! I'm okay now!" I insisted.
	Amy suddenly got up and stood in front of me.
	"Get up!" she said.
	I obediently rose to my feet, but I wasn't sure what my 
sister was going to try to make me do now.
	"Come to your room," she said, directing me to go ahead 
of her and lead.
	As I walked down the hall, Amy looked down at my rear 
and noticed that some of the poop from the last accident 
didn't get wiped up and it had soaked into the pair of 
underpants that I was wearing.
	"You still didn't clean yourself up!" she yelled. 
	"What are you doing?" I asked her. Without hesitating, 
she walked straight over to my underwear drawer and pulled 
out a tall stack of my white briefs.
	"Put these on!" she ordered as she handed me the stack. 
I looked up at her and asked, "What for?"
	"Since we don't have any diapers around here-- at least 
not yet-- this will have to do for now. Besides, you'll just 
keep pooping in your underwear, anyway."
	"I think I'll be okay now," I said.
	"Let's not take any chances, shall we?" she replied.
	I figured out that Amy wanted me to wear several pairs 
of underpants together to simulate a diaper. It wasn't the 
first time for me to wear my undergarments in multiples. 
When I was wearing training pants, my mother usually put me 
in two, sometimes three pairs, which was where Amy got the 
idea of applying this method of multiplicity to my 
underwear.
	Amy insisted that I wear the extra pairs of underpants. 
I knew I would look and feel silly wearing them all 
together, though at the same time I felt that I would be 
better off having some extra protection as if I were in a 
diaper. Amy watched as I put on each pair. By the time I 
pulled on the eighth and final pair in the stack, my rear 
end was padded up and my underwear resembled a diaper from 
the combined thickness of my briefs and the white fabric. 
Amy giggled as she watched me walk around in my underwear.
	"You even look like you're wearing a diaper!" she said. 
"It makes you look cute!"
	The "diaper" actually felt pleasing to me and the 
sensation of the extra layers over my small genitals gave me 
an erection. I looked down at my crotch and noted the way my 
underwear bulged out. I felt good about being "diapered" and 
it made me feel more secure about having another accident, 
just as long as nobody else saw me. Unfortunately, this was 
not to be the case. The pizza delivery showed up a few 
minutes later. At that time Amy was busy on the phone 
talking to her friend Marlene, mostly about making me wear 
several pairs of my underpants because of my accidents. When 
the doorbell rang she told me to answer it. Before I even 
got up to open the door I looked down at my bulging crotch 
and the blend of waistbands running across my stomach. I 
hesitated to allow anyone else to see me like this. Amy 
became impatient.
	"Johnny! Get the door! The pizza's here!"
	Seeing that she wasn't about to get off the phone and 
get the door herself, I got up and anticipated what the 
pizza delivery person would say to me. I slowly opened the 
door and was greeted by the pizza delivery driver. He looked 
at me standing there with several pairs of briefs pulled up 
high on my waist. He could tell I was embarrassed about my 
state of dress, especially with eight pairs of briefs on me, 
though it was probably nothing unusual for the pizza driver 
to see kids running around in their underpants, although 
perhaps I was the first he had seen wearing several pairs. 
Most likely the delivery driver saw older kids in their 
diapers, however. The driver just had his job to do and he 
didn't say anything to me about my underwear. He handed me 
the pizza and I handed him the money.
	"Give him a tip!" Amy reminded me. I gave back a dollar 
of the change and then the driver wished us a good evening. 
He also handed me two small Christmas candy canes and then 
he quickly headed back out on his way to his next delivery.
	I spent the rest of my evening in my "diaper" watching 
"Christmas Vacation" and "Home Alone" with Amy. Just when 
the second movie was started, I felt another batch of poop 
getting ready to squirt out of me. This time I thought I 
could make it to the bathroom, but I didn't feel that I 
needed to get up and use the toilet since I was "diapered." 
I just sat back and let the poopy discharge flow out into my 
briefs. It wasn't nearly as much as I pooped out before, but 
it was enough to cover my behind in wet shit and stink up 
the room. I also expelled a juicy fart and Amy knew from its 
sound that I dumped into my briefs again.
	"Phew! Did you have *another* accident?" Amy asked. I 
looked at her and didn't say anything, though the expression 
on my face was a sufficient "yes" answer. I remained sitting 
and continued to watch the movie as the mess in my briefs 
wasn't enough to warrant getting up to change myself. I sat 
in my poopy underpants until the movie was about to end. 
Even more poop was processing and waiting to come out of my 
bottom. This time it was going to be a big mess soaking into 
my underwear if I didn't get up and try to get to the 
bathroom. By this time I had passed most of my solid stool 
matter and now I was mostly producing water mixed with 
dissolved fecal content.
	I got up and ran into the bathroom where I stood at the 
toilet and started removing my underpants while at the same 
time trying to hold back the mess that was about to spew out 
of my butt. I started pulling my briefs down, but I only got 
the first three of them off before I let up on the pressure 
I was applying with my buttocks and let the liquefied shit 
pour out into the remaining five pairs. It soaked all the 
way through the cotton layers and I was such a mess now! I 
pulled off my underpants and stepped into the shower to 
clean up again. I left my stinky underpants on the bathroom 
floor and ran into my room to change.
	Amy went into the bathroom behind me to use it, but 
when she saw that I left my underpants lying on the floor 
she yelled to me, "get your smelly butt in here and take 
your smelly underwear with you!"
	I was debating whether or not I should try wearing 
several pairs of underwear again since I ended up having to 
clean myself up either way, plus the fact that having to 
pull down the extra pairs of underwear made it more 
difficult for me to get them all off to use the toilet. On 
the other hand, maybe the extra layers in the front would 
also serve as a diaper in case I wet my bed tonight. I knew 
I had drank a lot of pop while eating pizza and watching 
movies.
	Amy barged into my room and caught me completely naked. 
I held my hands over my genitals.
	"Oh come on, Johnny! I know what you look like down 
there! I told you to get your filthy underwear out of the 
bathroom!"
	"Let me get dressed, okay?" I demanded.
	"What are you going to wear?"
	"I dunno."
	"You made a real doozy of a mess in there! I think you 
should wear even more underpants this time!"
	Amy went to my underwear drawer and dumped its entire 
remaining contents on the floor.
	"Well, start putting them on!" she said. I felt that 
trying to wear the rest of my underpants would be 
unreasonably thick, not to mention tight around my waist and 
uncomfortable.
	"They won't all fit!" I complained.
	"Then put on as many as you can fit!" she told me.
	"I don't think I'll have any more accidents tonight!"
	"Sure, that's what you said *last* time!"
	I knew that my sister would not give up until I 
complied with her wishes. I started picking up my underpants 
from the floor and putting them on over my other pairs. I 
managed to get fifteen pairs on before they would no longer 
fit over the bulging mass of cotton briefs bunched together. 
Amy was satisfied with their thickness. She suppressed a 
giggle as she noticed the mixture of red, black and blue 
stripes of my waistbands all showing at the same time. There 
were several more pairs of underwear scattered about the 
floor. I gathered these up and put them back into the 
drawer. As I bent over I felt the elastic of my waistbands 
push into my stomach. They were so tight and snug, but the 
feeling was still tolerable.
	"Now go get your dirty underwear from the bathroom!" 
Amy reminded me. "I need to go in there!"
	Why don't you get them?" I asked.
	"No way! I'm not touching them! They're gross!"
	I walked into the bathroom and picked up the soiled 
underwear and carried it back to my bedroom, where I 
deposited it in my laundry. I went back to watch the rest of 
"Home Alone" with Amy. When I went to bed later I felt the 
extra padding of my briefs press up on my body as I rolled 
around on the mattress. In spite of the constricting 
pressure of the waistbands, the diaper-like feeling of my 
multiple underpants felt so soft, and the tight wrap of 
cotton over my butt and my genitals produced a feeling of 
security. My little penis was pressed up against my waist by 
the tight, thick wall of fly fronts. My penis was erect and 
it had been ever since I put the briefs on, and it felt so 
good to me, who had yet to discover why this felt so good.
	"Maybe diapers won't be so bad," I thought as I drifted 
off to sleep.

'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 3
--------------------------------------

	I woke up the next morning, now just three days before 
Christmas, and discovered that I had wet my bed again. This 
time, however, my extra underwear saved much of my bed from 
getting deluged in urine. Only a small spot was concentrated 
where I had been lying was affected. Much of the wetness was 
soaked up by the fifteen pairs of underwear that I was 
wearing. The entire front of my underwear was soaked and the 
wetness ran back through my crotch and back up into my butt.
	I got up from my bed and stripped off my soaked 
underpants. I replaced them with a dry pair and went around 
that morning wearing them as I often did on weekend 
mornings. Amy was already awake as was Mom.
	"Did you change your underpants?" Amy asked me, noting 
that I was back to wearing just one pair.
	"Change your underpants?" my mother repeated as she 
looked at me and scowled. "Did you wet your bed again, 
Johnny?"
	"You should have seen what he did last night!" Amy 
said. "But we got the problem taken care of!"
	My mother got up and went straight into my bedroom and 
I followed her, sweating in nervous agitation. Mom went to 
my bed and saw the wet spot in the middle of its mattress. 
She was surprised to see that it was much smaller than 
usual.
	"It doesn't look like you wet very much," Mom said. 
"But you still wet. I'm afraid Santa Claus won't be bringing 
you any toys this Christmas."
	"So will he bring me diapers instead?" I asked.
	"Do you want him to bring you diapers?" my mother 
asked. "Between your bedwetting and messing accidents, maybe 
he should!"
	My mother detected the strong pee and poop odors in my 
bedroom.
	"It really stinks in here!" she said. "Did you have 
more than just a bedwetting accident?"
	"Well, I-"
	"Remember, Santa Claus doesn't like it when you lie," 
my mother warned me. "Did you?"
	"Yes," I confessed with tears filling my eyes.
	"Show me what you did," she said.
	I led my mother over to my hamper. I lifted the lid and 
showed to her the piles of urine-soaked and poop-covered 
underwear all bunched together. She picked up some of the 
wet briefs and confronted me, demanding an explanation.
	"So this is what you think your brand new underwear is 
for? They're all soaked and bunched together like this! What 
were you doing with them?"
	"I wet the bed last night," I said shamefully.
	"I know you did, Johnny, and it looks to me as if you 
put all these underpants on like a diaper!"
	"Amy told me to wear them like this!"
	My mother ignored me as she continued to discuss the 
matter, this time about the pairs that were stained with 
diarrhea.
	"What are all *these* pairs doing in here?! They're 
filthy! When did you do this?"
	"Last night," I whimpered. "After you left. I had 
diarrhea!"
	"So you just put on some extra underpants and 
considered the problem solved, huh?" Mom scolded. "It looks 
like you didn't even try going to the toilet!"
	"I couldn't help it!" I defended. "Amy told me to wear 
them like that because I was having accidents!"
	"Accidents are not, if you'd rather pretend that you're 
wearing diapers instead of trying to get to the toilet, then 
you belong in diapers!"
	I watched my mother angrily carry away my hamper, which 
now contained every pair of pants I owned and most of my 
underwear, too. When she came back she brought me a laxative 
pill. Every time I had accidents in my underwear my Mom 
would make me take a mild laxative so that I would learn to 
get to the bathroom when I needed to go. The laxative would 
provide me more "opportunities" to get to the toilet, but 
most of the time all I ended up doing was pooping in my 
underwear even more.
	This time, I wouldn't need to worry about trying to get 
to the toilet anymore. Mom decided that she wasn't going to 
wait for Santa Claus to bring me diapers, and apparently she 
already had some ready to give me, even though Christmas was 
still three days away. She brought to me a large, unwrapped 
cardboard box containing two dozen diapers folded and packed 
together with six pairs of plastic pants and lots of large 
diaper pins.
	 "Merry Christmas, Johnny," my mother said with a 
sarcastic tone.
	My mother told me to strip off my underpants right 
there in the front room with my sister present. Naked from 
my waist down, I nervously stood as I watched my mother 
prepare the diapers to put on me. I looked at the diapers 
and I couldn't believe how big and thick each one of them 
was! I was especially surprised to see that my mother was 
going to put two of the super-thick diapers on me as I 
watched her fold them together and lay them down on a pad 
that she also bought for changing my diapers. She told me to 
sit down on the diapers and to wait for her to return. As I 
obediently set myself down on the diapers I covered up my 
genitals with my hands, shivering apprehensively. She came 
back into the room with a container of powder that she had 
bought. She started with my diapering by generously applying 
the sweet-scented powder to my genitals and rear end. She 
then drew the diapers tightly into my crotch and pulled them 
up over my stomach and my butt. She fastened three pins into 
each side of the set of diapers. Over the big mass of cotton 
layers went the plastic pants. They fit snugly over the 
diapers and their tight bands gripped my legs and waist.
	When Mom finished diapering me she told Amy not to 
worry about changing me since I was diapered heavily enough 
that I could go all afternoon without a change, even with 
the laxative. Meanwhile, I stood in the middle of the room 
wondering when I would get some pants to wear.
	"They're all in the wash, Johnny," my mother said. "And 
as soon as they're clean, they're going to the Salvation 
Army. They won't fit you anymore."
	I gasped. I couldn't believe that my mother was taking 
my pants away!
	"So what am I gonna wear?" I asked.
	"Diapers," my mother replied tersely.
	"And what else?"
	"Diapers," she repeated. "That's all you'll have until 
you go back to school."
	"And that won't be until NEXT YEAR!" Amy teased me.
	"What'll I wear when we have company?" I asked my 
mother.
	"I said diapers! That's all you will have, Johnny! 
Diapers!"
	"She said DIAPERS, Johnny!" Amy repeated.
	Mom then left for the afternoon to buy groceries for 
Christmas dinner and to take care of some last-minute 
Christmas shopping. I was stuck at home with my sister that 
Sunday as she baby-sat me. I wanted to play in the snow with 
the other kids in the neighborhood. I sat on the couch and 
stared out the window as I watched the kids in the street 
having snowball fights, building snowmen and sliding around 
on their sleds. I couldn't go outside and join the other 
kids since I had no pants to wear. They were all in the 
washing machine, for one thing.
	While Amy was to see to it that I did not go into the 
bathroom, I had another reinforcement applied to me. Before 
my mother left for the supermarket she bound my hands with 
some wide mailing tape. She had me put my hands behind my 
back while she ran the tape around my wrists about six 
times. Now I could not remove my diapers and use the toilet 
if I needed to, and right now I needed to poop as the 
laxative was taking effect. I tried to keep myself from 
pooping my diapers since I knew that once I pooped them I 
would have to wear the diapers that way for several hours 
before anyone changed me.
	I couldn't hold my bowel movement for very much longer 
and the pain and pressure was building in my intestines. I 
felt so helpless as I shit into my diapers and also peed in 
them as well. My thick diapers drew the wetness into their 
fabric and they also held in the large, messy volume of wet 
poop in the back. While I felt wet and messy on the inside 
of my diapers, the outside showed no indication that I had 
done anything in them. Until it became obvious that I needed 
to be changed, my diapers would be left alone. 
	The afternoon seemed to pass so slowly. I couldn't play 
with any of my toys since my hands were restrained. I 
alternated between watching TV with my sister and looking 
outside to see if it was still snowing. The winter solstice 
was bringing an early end to the afternoon daylight as my 
mother finally got home at that time. By then I had peed 
some more into my diapers and I also dumped out another 
large, smelly pile of poop that was squished and packed into 
the rear of my diapers for much of the day. They had started 
leaking out the rear and into the plastic pants. I couldn't 
wait to be changed out of my messy diapers, but I had to 
wait awhile longer as my mother brought in the groceries she 
bought along with the other purchases she made.
	"How's Johnny doing in his diapers?" Mom asked Amy.
	"He's doing fine. He can't do much about it with his 
hands all taped up! He's been really smelly for awhile."
	"Well, let's get him changed," Mom said as she looked 
at the brown liquid that had seeped into my plastic pants. 
"It looks like that laxative really did its job!"
	At long last I was going to be changed out of my well-
used diapers and my bottom would be wiped clean of the poop 
that was smeared onto my buttocks all day long. This time 
Amy was going to learn how to change my diapers, so Mom told 
her to watch her diaper me. 
	Mom faced the rather unsavory task of cleaning up my 
mess. Poop was splattered everywhere around my buttocks as I 
lied there on the changing pad with my hands still taped 
behind my back. I felt Mom using some old rags to wipe up 
the excess poop first and then use baby wipes to clean up 
the rest of the big mess. After I was finally cleaned up Mom 
got more diapers ready. She powdered up my genitals and my 
butt, which gave me an embarrassing erection, much to my 
sister's amusement. Mom proceeded with diapering me and she 
explained out loud to Amy what she was doing. Just like she 
had done before, she prepared a double set of diapers and 
pinned them up around my waist.
	"Make sure they're pinned on really tight," Mom said as 
she grabbed the plastic pants and started pulling then up 
past my loins. 
	Mom then went into the bathroom to wash her hands 
before she started dinner. While she was cooking she got 
stuck on the phone talking to her sister Margaret, who 
called to confirm their plans to arrive tomorrow evening.
I had been worrying all along about how my cousins Derek and 
Bobby would react when they saw me in diapers, not to 
mention my Aunt Margaret. I was most concerned about Derek, 
who was twelve years old. He had Attention Deficit Disorder 
and he often acted up at the worst times. Bobby was the same 
age as I, eight years old. He was quite intelligent, but he 
was also very shy and he didn't talk much, so it was 
difficult to tell what he was thinking. My mother told Aunt 
Margaret about me wearing diapers so she and the boys 
wouldn't be so surprised when they showed up and saw me 
wearing them.
	The phone conversation lasted long enough for my mother 
to finish dinner and serve it. The laxative was still 
working in my system and I discharged yet another large load 
of poop into my diapers. I was once again waiting to be 
changed and my skin was itching, but my mother wanted me to 
eat first since I would have to get undiapered and take a 
bath after dinner anyway. At least my hands were cut out of 
their tape restraints by this time.
	I still had to wait for my mother to take care of one 
more job before changing me out of my soiled diapers. While 
she was out shopping she purchased a replacement door knob 
for the bathroom. This one required a key to open it so I 
would not be able to go into the bathroom to use the toilet. 
Only my mother and sister would have keys. Within minutes 
she had the knob in place. Amy was handed one of the two 
keys that came with the new doorknob while the mother kept 
the other one. I complained about being locked out of the 
bathroom and I whined about the way I was being treated, 
especially with getting my hands taped up.
	"That's why I got the locking door knob," my mother 
said. "Would you rather have your hands taped behind your 
back again?"
	"No," I answered without hesitation.
	After Mom took my dirty diapers off she left me naked 
as she escorted me into the bathroom. I watched my mother 
insert her key to the bathroom door, a vivid reminder to me 
that my diaper-wearing would be strongly enforced. My mother 
drew some bath water for me and then supervised me as I sat 
on the tub and got myself cleaned up. While I was bathing, 
my Mom told me that she or Amy would have to accompany me 
when I needed to use the bathroom to brush my teeth or take 
a bath.
	After I finished my bath my mother dried me off and 
took me out into the front room again and put more diapers 
on me. Amy watched again as Mom demonstrated each step, 
again placing emphasis on the diapers being tight and snug 
so they wouldn't leak. At least now I didn't have to worry 
about waking up in a wet bed tomorrow morning. My thick 
diapers and huge, but tight-fitting plastic pants assured me 
that my bed sheets would remain dry no matter how much I 
wet.
	I woke up on the next morning to discover that I wet 
overnight, making it two consecutive nights of having wet in 
bed, something which hadn't happened to me since last 
summer. I felt my wet diaper clinging to my tender skin. I 
reached down underneath my bottom and I felt the bed sheet. 
It was completely dry for once! It felt so much different to 
me to have my wetting contained in a thick set of diapers 
sheathed by plastic instead of wet, cold underpants and bed 
sheets. I wasn't ready to admit it, but now I liked having 
diapers on and I favored getting my diapers wet instead of 
my bed. I was just concerned about the relatives that were 
coming for Christmas and seeing me in diapers. Aunt Margaret 
and cousins Bobby and Derek were due to arrive later that 
day and they would be staying until the day after Christmas.
	I was changed into another set of double diapers before 
my mother left for work that morning. She reminded Amy to 
check on me periodically and change me when I needed it. As 
Mom went out the door she carried a large plastic bag that 
contained my pants and underwear, destined for the Salvation 
Army.
	During the day I wet my diapers a number of times and I 
also pooped in them heavily. Amy could tell from the odor 
that I needed to be changed, so she told me to get on the 
changing pad on the floor.
	"No!" I refused. "I won't let you change me!"
	"Gee, you'd think I'd never seen you naked before!" my 
sister said sardonically. "If you don't let me change you, 
you'll have to wait until Mom gets home from work!"
	"I can wait," I said.
	"You wanna go that long in poopy diapers, that's fine 
with me!" Amy told me. "You're the one who has to smell and 
wear stinky diapers all day long!"
	I was willing to wait out the long afternoon and endure 
the feeling of my poop squishing around in the back of my 
diapers, anything to avoid putting myself in such a 
compromising position as having my sister change my diapers. 
Amy stayed away from me to avoid having to smell my strong 
odors.
	When Mom came home from work later that evening she 
expected Amy to have changed my diapers at least once, but 
when Mom removed them, she could tell that they had been on 
me all day long and were in a long overdue need of changing.
	"Didn't Amy change you today?" Mom asked me as she 
pulled away the drenched and soiled diapers.
	"I don't want her to change me!" I protested.
	"Amy is the only other one here who can change you when 
I am gone!" Mom said. "I think now would be a good time for 
her to get a chance to change you!"
	"No!" I cried. "I'd rather you do it, Mom!"
	My mother ignored me and instead went to Amy to bring 
her out to the front room. Amy came out from her bedroom and 
walked up to me. I was lying naked on the floor with my 
dirty butt still in need of wiping.
	"Wipe his butt!" the mother said to Amy. "Wipe it 
good!"
	"He's gross! He stinks!" she exclaimed.
	"I'd get used to it, Amy," Mom told her. "He's going to 
be like that a lot. And someday you'll have a baby of your 
own to take care of, so this will be good practice for you!"
	Amy knelt down and stared at the big pile of poop that 
I dumped into my diapers as they laid loose beneath my crap-
covered bottom. She squeamishly winced as she took an old 
washcloth which was designated for use with my messy diaper 
changes. She held her nose while trying to clean up my 
behind single-handedly. Amy acknowledged her need to become 
accustomed to this vile chore and accepted her duty to 
perform it. Slowly, but surely, Amy got my butt wiped clean 
and ready to cover up in thick diapers again.
	"The worst part is over," Mom said to Amy, standing 
over her to watch her. "Now comes the fun part!"
	"You mean, *diapering* him?" she smiled.
	"Of course, Amy."
	Mom had gotten the other four diapers from the washroom 
and handed them down to her. She grabbed two of them and 
folded them together as she had watched her mother do a 
couple of times. She looked back at her mother, who nodded 
her head to gesture to Amy that she was doing it right.
	Amy stopped for a moment and looked at me right in the 
face and smiled. I was so embarrassed and uncomfortable 
having to let my sister work her hands around such an 
intimate and sensitive section of my anatomy exclusive to my 
gender. I tried not to have an erection, but I just couldn't 
control it as my penis stood straight up.
	She went back over to the two diapers she had folded 
together and then before she put them underneath my bum she 
stopped again, noting the other two diapers that were 
remaining. She gave me a wry smile and then grabbed the 
other two diapers.
	"Can I put more than two diapers on him?" she asked 
Mom.
	"It'll be awfully thick on him if you do," Mom replied. 
"but I guess it doesn't matter since it's all he'll be 
wearing for awhile. Besides, he doesn't seem to mind wearing 
wet and dirty diapers for long periods, so we might as well 
start diapering him more heavily!"
	Amy added the other two diapers to the set before she 
stuffed the fluffy, thick stack of white cloth beneath me. I 
obediently set my rear end on the ample, soft materials 
before Amy drew them up over my stomach. She locked three of 
the large pins into each side of my quadruple diapers and 
then she covered up the diapers with my plastic pants. They 
were stretched tightly by the bulging volume of cloth packed 
inside of them, but they were still able to fit.
	Amy watched me toddle off to my bedroom, looking at how 
much diapering she wrapped over my butt. She felt so proud 
as she looked at how well she diapered me for the first 
time. Mom, too, was also proud of Amy's innately proficient 
diapering abilities.
	"You're a natural, Amy," Mom lauded her.
	"Those diapers ought to last through tomorrow," Amy 
said to Mom.
	"Probably, but we'll still need to check on him," Mom 
replied.


'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 4
--------------------------------------
	
	Later that evening Aunt Margaret and her boys arrived. 
I sat in my room, cringing and crying, knowing what 
humiliation I had yet to face. I stayed in my room for as 
long as I could to avoid being seen in diapers, but I knew 
that sooner or later I would have to come out and greet the 
guests. I heard the doorbell ring and I listened to the 
commotion of voices and everyone's baggage being carted into 
the house.
	Minutes later my mother came to my bedroom and told me 
to come out and help my cousins carry their bags in.
	"But I can't be seen like this!" I whimpered as I 
looked down at layer upon bulging layer of cloth in my 
crotch. My mother wasn't going to let me embarrass her like 
this, so she grabbed my wrist and literally dragged me out 
of my room.
	"No. Mom! No!"
	"Johnny! You are making even more of a scene! Now come 
on!"
	"But..."
	My mother scooted me through the hall and pushed me out 
into the living room. I stood still and felt my body freeze 
as a surge of adrenaline shot through my veins. As I made my 
initial appearance in my diapers, my cousin Derek started 
laughing. Bobby, however, stood still with a blank stare as 
he looked at me. I fled across the living room and hid 
behind the chair. My mother went after me.
	"Johnny! Get out from there! Stop hiding behind the 
chair!"
	"But, Mom!"
	Having no patience, she grabbed me and pulled me up by 
my arms. I was kicking my bare legs and making a spectacle 
of myself as my mother sat down and held me with my hands 
locked in her arms.
	"I'm sorry about his behavior," Mom apologized to her 
sister Margaret. "I told you that he's in diapers now, so 
I'd get used to seeing him this way."
	"I didn't think that was all he would be wearing," Aunt 
Margaret replied. "But I would do the same thing to my boys 
if they kept having accidents!"
	Bobby turned to my mother and looked at her. He asked, 
"do you mean that, Mom?"
	"Of course I mean it!" she replied firmly. "You think 
I'd put up with your wet and dirty underpants? It's bad 
enough you boys don't wipe!"
	"I thought only babies wore diapers!" Derek said.
	"You'd be surprised, Derek," his mother replied.
	"He looks like a doofus standing there in diapers!" 
Derek said. I buried my face in my hands as a wave of shame 
came over me. "And geez, aren't they on him just a little 
thick?"
	Everyone brought their belongings into the house 
everyone got settled down for the evening. Derek needed to 
use the bathroom right away and he was the first to find out 
that he couldn't enter it without a key.
	"What the hell?" he said as he tried to turn the locked 
knob on the bathroom door.
	"Derek!" his mother scolded. "Don't say that word!"
	"But this door is locked and I need to go to the 
bathroom!" he exclaimed, trying to force open the unyielding 
door. My mother handed Derek her bathroom key and explained 
to everyone that the door had a lock on it to keep me out of 
the bathroom so I would have to use my diapers whenever I 
needed to pee or poop.
	"If you need to go to the bathroom, come to Amy or me 
for a key," Mom said.
	"This is stupid!" Derek complained as he opened the 
door.
	Right behind Derek, Amy was waiting to use the 
bathroom. Just to be spiteful, Derek closed the door on her 
so she would have to re-open it herself.
	"Oh, I suppose you need a key!" Derek mocked as he 
returned to the bathroom door and handed it to Amy.
	"No thanks, I got my own key!" she said as she grabbed 
her key from her pocket and waved it in Derek's face before 
she opened the bathroom door. Before she even closed the 
door again she hollered and complained to Derek for getting 
pee on the floor, leaving the seat up and not flushing the 
toilet.
	"Derek!" Aunt Margaret scolded him. "I'm ashamed of 
you!"
	"I wanted to go to Dad's house for Christmas!" Derek 
moped. Derek and Bobby had also endured watching their 
parents go through a divorce early this year and they were 
both close to their father.
	"That's no excuse to make a mess in the bathroom!" Aunt 
Margaret scolded him some more. She then said, "Maybe *you* 
should wear diapers if you keep doing that!"
	"No!" Derek protested.
	"All right, then you'd better behave!"
	All evening long I felt very uncomfortable having my 
two cousins and my Aunt Margaret seeing me in diapers now. 
Bobby kept quiet about it while Derek kept harassing me. He 
called me names and he was talking to me in a baby-talk 
voice. I fought back and told Derek to shut up several 
times. When the tension escalated to a hitting fight, Aunt 
Margaret intervened.
	"Enough, Derek!" his mother shouted. "I don't want to 
hear another word about Johnny wearing diapers!"
	Derek was known to test his limits and often times he 
pushed things too far and dealt with the consequences of his 
defiant behavior, which was often a hard spanking. In spite 
of his mother's warning, Derek continued to tease me for 
wearing diapers.
	His mother got up and grabbed him. Derek fought to get 
away from her, but she was too strong for his aggressiveness 
to break him free. She dragged him over to the chair in 
which she was sitting and then she reached for the zipper on 
his pants. She unfastened his pants and took them down to 
his ankles. Next she pulled his underpants down. To add to 
Derek's embarrassment, his underwear contained a highly 
visible swath of unwiped fecal matter in the seat, its brown 
color contrasting against the white fabric of his briefs.
	"Don't spank me, Mom!" Derek cried. "Not in front of 
everyone!"
	It wasn't the first time Derek was spanked in front of 
other family members, but this didn't help to make getting 
spanked any less painful. His mother's hand started slamming 
down on his behind. Derek cried loudly and begged for his 
mother to stop. His howls rang throughout the house and 
Bobby and I were both frightened by the scene, so we fled 
for my bedroom. Inside the room with the door closed we 
could still hear my Aunt Margaret's hand striking Derek's 
behind repeatedly along with his helpless bawling.
	While we were in my room I was squatting down on the 
floor. Bobby pointed to my crotch and he said, "boy, you 
sure wear lots of diapers!" I didn't say anything as I 
continued to listen to Aunt Margaret's hand slapping Derek's 
butt. Her method of spanking involved waiting several 
seconds between each swat to prolong the spanking. Finally 
the spanking stopped and Bobby and I returned to see what 
had happened. We stood at the end of the hall to look.
	Derek's behind was painted deep red. He was left crying 
for several minutes with his pants and his underwear still 
down. After his crying subsided, Aunt Margaret stripped off 
his pants and underwear completely. She folded them up and 
handed them to my Mom. Derek was forced to stand naked in 
front of Aunt Margaret along with Amy and Mom.
	"Why are you taking my pants away?" Derek whimpered to 
my Mom.
	"Your mother wants to put you in diapers for your 
behavior!" she said.
	"Mom!" Derek cried as he looked as his mother. "Why? 
What did I do?"
	"Since you can't stop making a big deal out of Johnny 
wearing diapers, Derek, then by having you wear them, you'll 
be just like Johnny and you won't have any reason to torment 
him about it!"
	Bobby and I trotted back to my bedroom as my mother 
approached the hallway. She came through the door shortly 
after we had entered the room. She then grabbed four diapers 
and a pair of plastic pants from what used to be my 
underwear drawer. She also grabbed a handful of the big 
diaper pins. Pretending like I hadn't known what was going 
on, I asked Mom, "Are you changing me now?"
	"Not yet," she said.
	"What are getting my diapers out for?" I asked, even 
though I knew the answer, which was, "they're for Derek!"
I couldn't help but to be tempted to watch what would 
happen, so I left my room and followed her. Bobby got up and 
joined me. Once again we stood at the end of the hall as we 
watched Derek get diapered up. Derek was trying to get away, 
but my Mom held down his ankles and Aunt Margaret held down 
his arms. Amy got the job of diapering him. She stacked the 
four diapers together and pinned them up high and tight 
around Derek's body. Derek had given up his fight by this 
time and he allowed Amy to pull the plastic pants up over 
his diapers without showing any resistance.
	Derek began to cry some more and he apologized for his 
behavior and promised he wouldn't say another word about me 
wearing diapers. Aunt Margaret wasn't going to back down and 
trust Derek to suddenly mend his ways. She would make Derek 
stay in diapers for at least the rest of the night.
	Bobby had been looking at me going around in his 
diapers all evening and he became curious what it would be 
like if he were wearing diapers, too. He had isolated 
himself in thoughts of fantasies of being in his brother 
Derek's place that evening, minus the spanking. He imagined 
himself being on the floor getting all that wonderfully 
fluffy thick cloth-- white as the new fallen snow outside-- 
wrapped and pinned around his waist. He wanted to know what 
it felt like to pee and poop into such thick diapers.
	Now with both Derek and me diapered up, Bobby became 
jealous. He felt left out by not being in diapers like Derek 
and me. Bobby thought of repeating his brother's act and 
teasing me for wearing diapers, but his shyness prevented 
him from doing this. He also didn't want to risk getting 
spanked and endure the stinging pain that he knew would 
linger for hours afterward. He thought of asking me to 
diaper him after we were sent to bed, but again, Bobby felt 
too reserved to make such a request. He didn't feel 
comfortable about asking Derek to do it.
	About an hour later Derek complained that his diapers 
were wet and he needed to have them taken off- he didn't ask 
to be *changed*-- but he wanted the diapers to be removed 
from him altogether. Aunt Margaret examined the front of his 
diapers and determined that he was still a long ways from 
needing a change.
	"You have a lot more wetting to do, Derek," his mother 
said as she patted the front of his diapers. "Those diapers 
can take quite a bit more!"
	Just before bedtime, I was changed out of my wet and 
poopy diapers. My mother decided to continue Amy's practice 
of diapering me in quadruple-thick diapers. She took this a 
step further and doubled up my plastic pants, too. Before we 
were sent to bed, my mother asked Bobby if he needed to go 
to the bathroom first, reminding him that this would be his 
last chance until tomorrow morning. Derek and I, of course, 
were not expected to use the toilet and we were sent 
straight to bed.
	"I don't want you running to me asking for a key to the 
bathroom in the middle of the night!" my Mom warned Bobby.
	"Or me!" Amy added. "Because I won't give you one!"
	Bobby needed to pee, but rather than use the bathroom, 
he told my mother and his mother that he didn't need to go. 
He wanted to save his pee for wetting into diapers later on, 
hoping he could muster up the courage to ask me to put some 
on him.
	"Well, do you need to go?" Bobby's mother asked him 
once more.
	He hesitated and then said, "no."
	"Are you sure?" Aunt Margaret asked.
	"Yes!" Bobby replied adamantly.
	"Okay, then it's off to bed!"
	Bobby gave his mother a goodnight kiss and then he 
trotted off to my bedroom. He stripped off his pants and 
shirt and left his underpants on. They showed visible signs 
of poor wiping as the skid marks in the seat indicated. He 
put on a loose white T-shirt and then he hopped into my bed. 
We three boys were crammed together like sardines as we all 
shared my bed, even though my bed was a double, thank 
goodness.
	Very little was said among us as we fought for the 
covers and tried to get comfortable and get to sleep. Bobby 
wasn't very talkative and Derek was still upset from the way 
he had been treated. Bobby lied awake as he kept thinking 
about asking me to put diapers on him. He was afraid that I 
would fall asleep on him and he would have to go through the 
night wishing he had diapers on. He also felt his bladder 
muscles straining to hold back his pee. It was too late for 
him to get up and go to the bathroom now.
	Finally, he propped himself up and gave me a light 
nudge.
	"Are you still awake?" Bobby whispered.
	"Yeah, I am," I replied.
	Another minute or so passed silently. Bobby stared out 
the window through the spaces in the window blinds and 
watched the snow flakes gently falling in the glow of the 
street light. He must have thought to himself, "now or 
never, this is it," and then he prepared to ask me to diaper 
him.
	"Can I ask you to do something?" Bobby stammered 
nervously.
	"Sure, what is it?" I inquired.
	I lied still for several seconds and said nothing
	"What is it?" I asked again.
	Bobby felt so anxious. He already had one foot in the 
door, so to speak, and he couldn't allow himself to turn 
back. He was hesitant to say the word "diaper."
	"I wanna wear...uh, you know, your, your under...wear, 
you know, the kind of underwear...that you wear, Johnny."
	Bobby thought that Derek had fallen asleep by this 
time. He was surprised when Derek suddenly spoke up.
	"He's saying he'd like to wear your diapers, Johnny!" 
Derek said loudly.
	"Would you like to put one on?" I offered to Bobby.
	First there was a brief pause, and then Bobby said, 
"Uh, yeah. But can you, uh... help me with it?"
	"Do you really want to wear a diaper?" I asked Bobby, 
just to be sure this was what he was wanting.
	 "Y-yes," he answered.
	"You might as well," I said. "Then all of us will be in 
diapers."
	"Whoopee," Derek replied sarcastically. "I wanna take 
this damn thing off! It's itching!"
	I got up from my bed and turned the light on. I opened 
my diaper drawer and handed Bobby a diaper and some pins.
	"Well, put it on!" I said to Bobby.
	"I uh, don't know how," Bobby uttered sheepishly. "so I 
want you to do it instead."
	"My Mom and my sister always put them on me," I said. 
"I've never put my own diapers on."
	"Can you try?" Bobby asked.
	I had already learned enough from watching my mother 
and sister diaper me and, upon my observations, I agreed to 
help Bobby into diapers.
	"Can I wear a whole bunch of diapers at a time like you 
wear?" Bobby asked. He didn't stammer this time and he was 
getting more comfortable with expressing his wish to wear 
diapers. He even said the word "diaper."
	I returned to my diaper drawer and retrieved three more 
diapers along with a pair of plastic pants. I laid them down 
in a stack on the floor and then I told Bobby to take his 
underwear off. Just as Bobby felt himself shedding his 
inhibitions about wearing diapers, he suddenly became 
embarrassed about exposing his penis to me, and he was even 
more embarrassed that he had a hard-on. Slowly, he pulled 
off his underwear and revealed his stiff little dick.
	He sat down on the pile of diapers and then I pulled 
the ends of the diapers together and tried to fasten the 
pins. I didn't get the diapers pinned on Bobby as tightly as 
my mother and sister were capable of doing, but Bobby was 
quite comfortable nonetheless. The warm, soft fabric in his 
crotch excited him and his young peter attained its fullest 
erection yet.
	Bobby was able to put the plastic pants on by himself, 
though he had to struggle to get the waistband to go over 
the bulging white fabric. I helped him and pulled his 
plastic pants up even higher, eliminating the slack that had 
been folded down a couple inches below the top of the 
diapers.
	"These feel so good!" Bobby said gleefully.
	"Wait'll they're wet and your balls start to itch," 
Derek complained. "Then tell me they feel good."
	I got up and turned the light back off before returning 
to bed. Bobby lied still, readying himself to let loose his 
pee. He anticipated the warm, wet feeling that peeing in his 
diapers would produce. He let out a small trickle of urine. 
It splashed up towards the top of his diapers and trickled 
back down into the cloth. He let out a few more spurts of 
pee, uncertain of how well his diapers would absorb it. 
Assured that there was lots of cloth between his body and 
his plastic pants, he let out more and he flooded his 
diapers. The warm liquid drenched the inner layers of his 
diapers and coated his tender skin. It trickled back towards 
his butt and soaked into the crotch.
	After Bobby stopped peeing in his diapers he said, "I 
can't believe what I'm doing! Now I have a wet diaper on and 
I'll have to wear it the rest of the night!"
	"See? I told you so!" Derek exclaimed.
	For the rest of the night Bobby worried about how to 
change out of his diapers in the morning without his mother 
or anyone else knowing he was wearing them. The dampness of 
his diapers lingered and irritated his skin. Eventually 
Bobby fell asleep in spite of his discomfort.
	Derek was unable to sleep in his wet diapers, so he 
took them off in the middle of the night while Bobby and I 
were asleep. Derek got up from the bed and removed the pins, 
then he let the sodden diapers drop to the floor. He groped 
around in the dark to locate his bag of clothing. He blindly 
rooted through the bag for a pair of underpants and then he 
put a pair on to replace the diapers he had been wearing. He 
climbed back into bed and went to sleep.

'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 5
--------------------------------------

	Christmas Eve morning had arrived. Mom had already left 
for work and she was going to come home early as she had 
always done on Christmas Eve. Aunt Margaret was home with us 
that day to baby-sit. Bobby and Derek were both still asleep 
when I got up and joined Amy at the breakfast table. Shortly 
after I finished the breakfast Aunt Margaret served me, 
Derek woke up and was about to take his place at the table. 
Before Derek even got a chance to sit down, Aunt Margaret 
confronted him about the fact that he had his pants on. 
There was no way he could have gotten his pants on over the 
diapers he should have been wearing.
	"Derek!" she demanded. "What happened to the diapers 
you were wearing last night?"
	"I took them off," he answered as he pulled up a chair.
	"You were to leave them on!" his mother reminded him.
	"But they were wet and itchy!" Derek complained.
	"Now you know how Johnny feels, or do you? I think you 
need to wear them a little longer."
	"No! I'm not wearing diapers!" Derek hollered.
	"Just for that little outburst, not only am I putting 
you back in diapers, but I'm giving you a bi-i-i-g 
spanking!"
	Derek got up from the table and he tried to run away, 
but Aunt Margaret grabbed him in the living room. She took 
him over to the couch and she yanked his pants down, then 
his underwear. Within seconds he was over his mother's knee 
with his bare bottom sticking up, still showing signs of 
redness from the last spanking he got, and now his rear end 
was about to be reddened once again.
	 "No, Mom! Don't spank me!" Derek pleaded, his words 
interrupted by his howling from each stinging swat. "It's 
almost Christmas!"
	"That it is," his mother said as she stopped. "And you 
have been a bad boy this year, Derek!"
	I retreated to my bedroom, or at least I pretended that 
I did. I felt scared to watch Aunt Margaret spank Derek 
again, but at the same time I felt compelled to watch. I 
stood at the end of the hall and peeked out to the living 
room where I saw Aunt Margaret spanking Derek some more. 
After seeing the horrified look of Derek's face and hearing 
his piercing screams, I couldn't bear to watch or listen any 
longer, so I quickly dashed into my bedroom. As I entered, 
Bobby was sitting up and wide awake.
	"What's going on out there?" Bobby asked as I shut the 
door behind me.
	"Derek got in trouble for taking off his diapers," I 
replied.
	"I don't know what to do about *my* diapers!" Bobby 
whined. "Mom will spank me for wearing them!"
	"After she spanks Derek for *not* wearing them?" I 
asked.
	"But he was *supposed* to wear his, and I wasn't! I 
gotta take these diapers off, now!"
	"So take them off!"
	"But what do I do with them?" Bobby whimpered.
	"Stash 'em! I'll sneak 'em out later!" I suggested.
	"Oh, no!" he exclaimed as he looked down at his crotch. 
It was saturated with pee, much of it which had come from 
leakage. Bobby's diapers had been pinned on too loosely and 
a large gap had formed between the diapers and his body, 
allowing much of the urine to spill into the plastic pants 
and then onto the mattress of my bed.
	"I got your bed wet!" Bobby exclaimed.
	"It's not the first time," I admitted. "I have a rubber 
liner underneath, anyway."
	Bobby got out of the bed and started removing his 
plastic pants. The pool of urine that had collected in the 
crotch of the plastic pants spilled onto the carpet. Just 
then Bobby and I heard Derek coming back to my bedroom 
crying his head off. As the door opened, Bobby was surprised 
to see that his mother was also there with him.
	 "Bobby!" his mother exclaimed. "What are *you* doing 
in diapers?!"
	Bobby stood frozen and paralyzed with fear as his 
mother stared at him. His plastic pants were pulled down a 
little ways from when he began removing them. He didn't know 
what to say to his mother.
	"Why are you wearing diapers, Bobby?" his mother asked 
again, demanding an explanation.
	"Because Johnny and Derek were wearing them," Bobby 
answered slowly.
	"So you thought you should be wearing them, too, is 
that I'm getting here?" his mother asked.
	"Uh, huh," Bobby uttered.
	Aunt Margaret went up to Bobby and looked at how 
loosely his diaper was pinned on and allowing such a wide 
gap to form.
	"Obviously you put these diapers on yourself!" she 
said.
	"Actually, Johnny did it," Bobby said.
	"Johnny, I'd leave the diapering up to your mother and 
sister for awhile," Aunt Margaret advised me as she began 
removing the pins.
	"And you've used them, I see, Bobby," his mother noted 
when she removed Bobby's diapers and saw that he had wet in 
them. "Did you wet them overnight?" she asked.
	"I did it after I went to bed," Bobby answered.
	"After you were asked if you needed to use the 
bathroom?"
	"Uh, huh," Bobby confessed. He could sense from the 
tone of his mother's voice and the look of her face that he 
was about to get into trouble, too. She sat down and took 
Bobby over her knee and began spanking him, too. As she sat 
down on the bed she felt the wet spot from where Bobby's 
diapers had leaked from being on too loose.
	"You even got Johnny's bed wet!" she exclaimed. "And 
now I'll have to change my pants!" This incident earned 
Bobby a few more spankings than he would have originally 
gotten. I stayed in my room in spite of the unpleasantness 
of watching Aunt Margaret come down so hard on Bobby. 
Perhaps I stayed to watch because it made me feel good not 
to be the one getting spanked, kind of like the feeling I 
get watching a scary movie. Derek was forced to stay in my 
room and watch his brother get spanked. Derek's underpants 
were still off of him and he was naked from his waist down.
	Watching his brother get spanked was almost as bad to 
Derek as he knew that this was how he looked and sounded 
when his mother did the same thing to him. Derek was forced 
to witness the grimaced look on Bobby's face and watch his 
tears drip off of his face and to the floor. He had to 
listen to Bobby's anguished cries for mercy while his mother 
continued to spank him more.
	While Bobby was left to cry off his spanking, Derek was 
pinned back into the same diapers that he had taken off from 
the previous night. They were still damp in the crotch and 
the wetness felt cold against Derek's skin. His body heat 
helped to warm up the wet fabric a little, but the wetness 
itself lingered, and more of it would be added as Derek was 
needing to pee again.
	"I was going to take them off of you this morning," 
Aunt Margaret said to Derek, "but since you took them off 
yourself, I'm going to make you wear them all day today! In 
fact, I may just decided to keep you in them until you 
decide to straighten up your act!"
Aunt Margaret then called Bobby over to her as it was 
his turn to be diapered. After Bobby had a chance to cry off 
the hard lashings he got, Aunt Margaret went to my diaper 
drawer and pulled out four more diapers, which were the last 
ones that were still clean. She stacked them up and made 
Bobby sit on them. As she wiped his butt dry he winced in 
pain from the spanking. She applied some powder and some 
lotion, which helped to alleviate the swelling, stinging 
agony of his beaten buttocks. In spite of his upset 
feelings, Bobby's penis stood straight up and as stiff as it 
could be as his mother started diapering him. She pinned up 
each layer individually and she had to use the rest of the 
diaper pins to do it. She wanted Bobby to wear his diapers 
really tight so he would get a better idea of how they're 
supposed to fit and feel.
	"They're too tight!" Bobby whimpered.
	"That's how they're supposed to be, Bobby," his mother 
said. "I just wanted you to know how they're really supposed 
to feel after you've worn them that way for several hours."
	The afternoon seemed to pass so slowly. We all stared 
out the front window and watched the snow falling. We wanted 
to go outside and play in it with all the other kids who 
must have been having a good time out there. Aunt Margaret 
refused to take us out of our diapers and give us our pants.
	Aunt Margaret served us some bean and bacon soup and 
sandwiches for lunch. She also made us help her with some of 
the household chores, including laundry. Aunt Margaret 
started with my shirts and then she put my diapers in the 
wash after letting them soak for awhile. All of us boys were 
stuck inside the house all day long with nothing to wear but 
our shirts and lots of thick diapers. Bobby and I played 
together for much of the day. We both sat in the living room 
and played with my Legos, Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars, 
which were Bobby's favorite toys as well as mine. Derek just 
sat in front of the TV and moped, complaining about having 
to wear wet diapers all day. Later on he got up and asked 
Aunt Margaret if she could take his diapers off since he 
needed to poop.
	"What for?" Aunt Margaret asked him. "Isn't that what 
your diapers are for?"
	"But it'll be all messy and stinky!" Derek complained.
	"Well, Derek, that comes with the territory when you're 
in diapers!" Aunt Margaret said. "I'm definitely not going 
to take your diapers off just so you can poop; it defeats 
the whole purpose of making you wear them! Besides, there 
are no clean diapers left and you'll have to wait until more 
of them have been washed."
	Derek tried to hold back his bowel movement. He 
attempted to employ the heel-sitting trick that I had used a 
number of times in class and in other places where I didn't 
want to use the available facilities and stink them up. His 
diapers were much too thick for heel-sitting to be 
effective. He stood up and tried to cross his legs, but he 
couldn't do anything to tighten his buttocks with all those 
thick diapers on him.
	After several more minutes of straining his sphincter 
muscles, Derek gave up the fight to hold back his poop and 
he dropped a big shit into the back of his diapers, at least 
it sounded big. He was so heavily diapered up like Bobby and 
me and there was no visual way to tell what he had done in 
them. He let out a juicy fart whose sound was muted by his 
diapers, but they didn't do much to mute the smell in spite 
of their thickness. Everything smelled bad enough in the 
house since we were farting all afternoon long from the bean 
soup we were served.
	Mom came home early from work that afternoon as it was 
Christmas Eve. She and Aunt Margaret went out to do some 
last-minute Christmas shopping before all the stores closed. 
Aunt Margaret mentioned that she needed to pick up some more 
gifts for her boys. Given her present disposition towards 
their behavior, I had to wonder what she intended to get 
them.
	While Mom and Aunt Margaret were out shopping, Mom 
called to remind Amy to transfer the diapers in the washing 
machine over to the dryer and to tell her that they would be 
home soon. I looked at the Caller ID display on the phone 
and I noted the name of the place from which Mom had called. 
It was a place where I knew diapers for older children and 
adults were sold. I had a feeling that Aunt Margaret was 
buying some diapers for Derek and Bobby. Now I had learned 
that the diapers I had supposedly gotten from "Santa Claus" 
were really from Mom. Santa Claus still hadn't yet to come 
to our house, and now I knew Santa would still bring me toys 
after all! I didn't tell Bobby or Derek what they would 
probably be getting for Christmas. I thought I'd let them 
find out tomorrow when they ripped open their packages, 
which is how most Christmas presents are supposed to work, 
anyway.
	After Mom and Aunt Margaret returned from their 
shopping we finally got our diapers changed. Mom worked on 
changing mine while Aunt Margaret went to work on Derek and 
would change Bobby into his diapers afterward. Since Derek 
was forced to wear the same wet diapers he had on since last 
night, she decided to change him first. Bobby was sent to 
the laundry room to get the diapers out of the dryer and 
bring them back into the room. I could hear Amy helping him 
get the diapers for him. As Bobby returned with a tall pile 
of diapers stacked in his arms, he exclaimed, "They're 
warm!"
	Amy had followed him into the room and she offered to 
change Bobby. Aunt Margaret said, "go right ahead, dear. 
Then we can all relax and have dinner sooner."
	Bobby showed no objections to having Amy change his 
diapers. In fact, he was showing a slight smile as Amy set 
him on the bed and laid him down. She reached around his 
waist and pulled off his plastic pants and then she removed 
the pins that had been keeping his diapers up so tightly 
around him all day. As Bobby had only wet his diapers-- 
albeit quite heavily-- Amy didn't have a messy butt to deal 
with. She just wiped his skin dry and applied some more 
powder and lotion. She was careful to avoid hurting his 
tender skin which was still sensitive from the spanking.
	She took four diapers from the stack Bobby brought in 
the room, and then she layered the four diapers together. 
Bobby's little erection was sticking up as he watched Amy 
slide the diapers underneath him. She pulled the diapers far 
up into his crotch and she fastened them on him using lots 
of pins. She handed Bobby a pair of plastic pants which he 
put on himself.
	As Derek and I both pooped in our diapers, Mom and Aunt 
Margaret were spending more time on us while Amy had already 
finished diapering Bobby. While Mom was busy wiping up my 
bottom I turned my head and looked at Derek. His bottom was 
so heavily soiled and the smell of his messy butt 
overshadowed the odors of my own dirty diapers. Derek looked 
really embarrassed that I was watching him get diapered up 
again. I could tell he didn't want me to stare at him, but I 
couldn't help it, especially seeing how large of a hard-on 
his nearly pubescent penis was capable of producing. He gave 
me a cold stare and said, "quit looking at it!"
	"He won't have anything to look at now," Aunt Margaret 
said as she pulled the diapers over his erection and 
concealed it from view. His diapers were too thick to tell 
he had such a big boner underneath them.
	As Mom pulled the diapers up into my crotch I felt 
their fresh-out-of-the-dryer warmth, which was a feeling I 
had enjoyed before with putting on underpants that had just 
finished drying. With diapers the sensation was much more 
pleasing, especially since Mom put them on me more tightly 
this time and she used more pins than before.
	After we had dinner and watched some Christmas movies 
on TV we went to bed. This time Bobby was not offered a 
chance to use the bathroom. The three of us climbed into my 
bed. Our bare legs were rubbing against each other as were 
our diapered butts. I got the middle of the bed and I was 
stuck in between Bobby and Derek, both of whom who had their 
cold feet pressing up against me.
	As it was Christmas Eve, none of us were able to sleep, 
though we all anticipated Christmas Day differently than 
most other kids who were dreaming of being showered with the 
toys they had wished for. All I wanted to know is if I would 
still get any toys and not just more diapers.
	The night seemed to drag on. It was snowing again as I 
stared out the window and watched it against the street 
light. I kept listening for Santa's sleigh to make its 
landing on our rooftop, but all I could hear were my two 
cousins breathing on each side of me, plus some occasional, 
diaper-muffled farts left over from today's lunch.
	Just as I had finally gotten comfortable and was ready 
to fall asleep, Derek awakened me. He had scooted his body 
to the far edge of the bed. He was moving his arm back and 
forth, enough to shake the bed. At first I thought he was 
just scratching an itch, but he kept it up for several 
minutes. I asked him what he was doing, and he said, 
"nothing!"
	"Do you have an itch?" I asked.
	"You could say that," he said.
	"I'd go into the bathroom and get you something, but of 
course, it's locked and..."
	"It's not that," Derek said.
	"Then why do you keep doing that?" I asked him as he 
resumed his activity.
	"It feels good," he said.
	"So what are you doing?"
	"Nothing, okay!" he snapped. He then got up from my 
bed.
	"Where are you going?"
	"I'm sleeping on the floor!" Derek said as he took his 
pillow with him. "It's too crowded in your bed!"
	"Fine, whatever," I thought as I scooted over and 
spread my limbs out and enjoyed the extra space I now had in 
my bed. Derek asked for a blanket and I told him I had some 
on my closet. He turned on the light without warning me 
first, thus blinding me. After Derek selected a blanket he 
turned the light back off.
	"It's really warm by the heat vent," I suggested to 
Derek, having spent many a night on the floor myself after 
wetting my bed. Not since I was put into diapers did I have 
to leave my bed because I had gotten it wet.
	I tried to resume sleeping, but I was too wide awake 
now and most likely I would be awake upon sunrise. I lied 
still for about another half hour. At that time I could hear 
Derek's plastic pants rustling around as he started 
"scratching his itch" again. He was moving his entire body 
around on the floor rather vigorously. Maybe he had fallen 
asleep and he was having a bad dream, but Derek was moaning 
and it sounded like whatever he was doing made him feel 
good. He was whispering, "oh yeah, oh yeah." Suddenly he 
stopped his activity. I figured that he was definitely 
awake, so I asked him again what he was doing.
	"Shit!" he exclaimed. "Weren't you asleep?"
	"No! It's Christmas Eve! I never sleep on Christmas 
Eve! Now why won't you tell me what you're doing?"
	"Oh, dammit!" he said. "I might as well tell you so 
you'll shut the hell up about it! You'll be doing it soon 
anyway!"
	"What? What is it?" I asked.
	"You ever heard of jacking off?" Derek asked me 
bluntly.
	 "Uh yeah, some of the older kids at school talk about 
it. They say they that when their dick gets hard they play 
with it and it feels good. Sometimes--"
	"Congratulations!" Derek interrupted me. "You passed 
the exam!" Derek said with sarcasm. "Now don't say nothing 
to nobody about it!"
	"Okay," I said, "but I'm kind of wondering how you're 
doing it with diapers on."
	"Why don't you try it and find out?" he said. "I'm 
going to sleep now, so shut up!"
	Bobby was sound asleep as I could hear him snoring 
lightly. As I had been thinking much about wearing diapers 
my dick had been getting stiff off and on with such 
thoughts. I sometimes handled my penis when it got stiff 
because it felt good to do this, but I was never able to 
make it feel the way the older kids explained it. It was 
supposed to tingle and then shoot out some white stuff. This 
sounded scary so I had avoided it. Tonight, however, I felt 
less inhibited. I spent the entire day seeing my two cousins 
going around with their butts just as thickly diapered up as 
mine, and the sight of them in diapers kept me excited 
throughout the day for some reason I didn't really 
understand. I started playing with my own hard-on and it 
felt good as I expected it to feel. After awhile it began to 
tingle. I was becoming afraid that I would "overdo" it, so I 
stopped.
	Derek was still awake and he could tell that I was 
trying to jack off.
	"Shit, don't tell me *you're* doing it now!"
	"You told me to try it," I said.
	"You're only eight years old!" he exclaimed. "You won't 
get nothing! You gotta wait until your dick gets a little 
bigger first-- if it ever does!"
	Derek laughed for a moment and then I never heard 
another word from him. I managed to get to sleep again, 
though it must have been a short sleep. I had been asleep 
long enough to wet my diapers, however. Daylight was just 
getting ready to light the snowy, overcast sky as I woke up 
and realized that Christmas morning had arrived at last!
'TIS THE SEASON TO BE DIAPERED: PART 6
--------------------------------------

	I was the first one to be awake as I got out of bed 
Christmas morning. Bobby was still sound asleep in my bed. 
He was even sucking on his thumb in his sleep, which I 
thought made him look cute. As I left my room I stepped over 
Derek as he was curled up on the floor. His blanket was only 
partially covering him. His bare legs and thick diapers were 
showing. Several memories of spending my nights on the floor 
came back to me as looking at him lying there reminded me of 
those times I woke up in the middle of the night to a wet 
mattress. My diapers were wet again, which I was now getting 
used to wearing upon waking up.
	When I went out to the living room Aunt Margaret and 
Mom were already awake. They were getting the turkey and 
other items prepared to serve for the big dinner later that 
day. I had some cereal to hold me over until we ate later 
on.
	The others had gotten out of bed shortly afterwards. 
Derek complained that his diapers were wet and he was tired 
of wearing them and he wanted them off. Bobby didn't say 
anything about his, and I couldn't tell if he had done 
anything in them because they were so thick on him.
	I walked over to the fireplace and looked in my 
stocking hanging above it. Among packages of candy and some 
other small toys, I was given a plastic box that contained 
diaper pins, and lots of them! They were bigger pins, too. 
Maybe this was Santa's way of hinting at what he left me 
under the tree. I went back to the Christmas tree to check 
my presents more closely. There was one large box much like 
the one that contained the diapers that Mom gave me for 
Christmas early. This one was wrapped, however, and it was 
labeled "from Santa Claus."
	I looked around and noted two other large presents that 
were each about the same size as the big package that had my 
name on it. One of them was addressed to Bobby and the 
other, to Derek. These were from their mother, however.
        After everyone ate their breakfast, Bobby, Derek and I 
were all given diaper changes. This time Amy changed me and 
Mom changed Derek. I had just deposited a fresh bowel 
movement into my diapers before I let Amy deal with the 
mess. She gagged on the odors and she nearly barfed into the 
bucket that was used to carry the diapers back to the 
laundry room. In spite of the big stench, Amy got my butt 
wiped clean and she tightly pinned me back up into a thick 
bunch of diapers again. 
        Derek's diapers were very wet, as were Bobby's, but 
neither of my cousins had pooped in theirs yet. Derek had 
pooped his diapers only once since he was put into diapers, 
but Bobby had yet to make stinky in his diapers. In fact, 
ever since Bobby was diapered yesterday morning he hadn't 
produced any stool at all. He was constipated, his mother 
determined. According to Aunt Margaret, Bobby hadn't pooped 
since the day before, and she also mentioned that Bobby had 
a tendency to become constipated. Aunt Margaret asked my 
mother for a laxative, and before Bobby's diapers were 
changed he was given two laxative pills, double the usual 
dosage. The back of his diapers would soon be loaded with 
all the shit his body had produced over the last two days or 
so. 
        Because Bobby was given an extra dose of the laxative, 
he was expected to produce a very voluminous series of messy 
bowel movements. To handle the extra load, Aunt Margaret put 
Bobby into a set of six diapers. His plastic pants would not 
fit over them, so Bobby went around wearing just the 
incredibly thick bunch of diapers. She put them on him so 
that they were given an extra-high rise in the rear since he 
would need the additional capacity back there. Down each 
side of his diapers ran a row of diaper pins so closely 
spaced that they overlapped each other.
        Upon Grandma's arrival we would begin opening presents. 
Grandma was expecting me to be in diapers as my Mom had told 
her about it. About an hour or so after my cousins and I 
were given our diaper changes Grandma showed up at the door. 
She had been told by my Mom that I was wearing diapers, so 
she expected to see me wearing them. Even Grandma agreed now 
that I should be wearing diapers after she found out how 
much of a struggle I had given my Mom over wetting my bed 
and pooping my pants. She was disappointed to hear what I 
had done to the underwear that she had given me for my 
birthday and she felt that I belonged in diapers for this, 
too.
        Grandma didn't expect to see me diapered up so heavily, 
however. She was even more surprised to see that Derek and 
Bobby were also in diapers. When she asked Aunt Margaret why 
her boys were in diapers, Aunt Margaret said, "Derek 
wouldn't stop teasing Johnny about it, and Bobby just wanted 
to wear them, so I decided to make things easier on everyone 
and keep them both in diapers!"
        "At least you won't have to change them so often," 
Grandma remarked as she noted how we were each bundled into 
so many diapers.
        Meanwhile, Derek had fled to my room since he didn't 
want Grandma to see him in his diapers. Aunt Margaret went 
after him and cornered him in my room. Everyone could hear 
what was going on in there from the living room.
        "I don't want Grandma to see me like this!" he cried.
        "Why not? Everyone else has!" Aunt Margaret said. "Now 
stop this nonsense and get your butt out there!"
        "No!" he whined.
        "You're lucky you have all those diapers on you, 
because I'd really spank you right now!"
        Aunt Margaret escorted Derek back out to the front 
room. Tears were streaming down his face as Grandma greeted 
him. Grandma tried to assure Derek that she had seen other 
boys his age in diapers when she worked in the pediatric 
ward at the hospital. As she was retired and now working 
part-time as a cleaning lady, she told us that she still 
sees her share of older boys in diapers at the houses she 
cleans. This did nothing to comfort Derek as he sat down on 
the couch and moped.
        Mom, Aunt Margaret and Grandma chattered for awhile 
before we got to opening our gifts. During that time Bobby's 
laxative treatment was taking effect. While we were sitting 
next to the fireplace he squirted out a load of poop. Even 
through six layers of diapers I could hear it and smell it 
as well. It was only the beginning of what was yet to come.
        After Mom checked on the turkey and the other food that 
was being cooked, she joined the rest of us around the 
Christmas tree to open presents. Derek got up from the couch 
so that Grandma and Aunt Margaret could sit there. Mom was 
sitting in her recliner and Amy sat by the Christmas tree to 
distribute gifts and to operate the video camera. When Derek 
saw that she was videotaping he started to flee from the 
room, but Aunt Margaret told him to stay put or she would 
spank him and she would also make sure that Amy got it in 
tape if she did spank him. Derek then obediently sat down 
between Bobby and me by the fireplace. All three of us had 
to sit with our legs widely spread apart because we each had 
so many diapers on.
        Amy started out with handing out smaller presents. I 
was glad to see that I got a few toys after all as I opened 
various boxes of Legos, Matchbox and Hot Wheels sets as well 
as a couple games. Even Derek and Bobby got some toys, 
though Bobby ended up opening Derek's presents since he just 
sat still and moped the whole time.
        After I had opened several gifts I was handed a package 
that I knew was clothing and not a toy from the feel of the 
package, though I suspected that it may have contained 
diapers instead. Expecting to see the virgin white cloth of 
new diapers, I was surprised to see blue denim instead. At 
first I thought it was just a pair of pants, but as I 
unfolded it I realized that it was a pair of overalls. When 
I laid them out flat in front of me I saw that they were 
quite large around the middle. I presumed that the purpose 
of this was so that they would fit over my diapers.
        "Those are only for wearing to school and whenever 
you're out of the house, Johnny," Mom said to me. "Other 
than that you'll just be in diapers like you have been the 
last few days."
        Bobby and Derek also each received an identical pair of 
overalls from his mother. They also provided extra capacity 
around the waist to fit over their diapers. Bobby accepted 
his gift without any argument. He liked the idea of being 
expected to wear diapers from now on and thanked his mother.
        "You do realize that you'll only wear those outside of 
the house, Bobby," his mother said. "You'll be treated just 
like Johnny and you'll be in diapers the rest of the time."
        "Okay," Bobby accepted.
        Derek wasn't so accepting of his overalls. He opened up 
the package and then threw it down and protested.
        "I ain't wearin' these!" he said.
        "You will unless you want to go to school in diapers!" 
Aunt Margaret said.
        Derek then threw a big temper tantrum in front of 
everyone and Amy even got him on videotape. He started 
protesting about having to wear diapers and overalls. He 
then kicked everyone's presents around the room and he 
almost knocked over the Christmas tree. He then picked up 
his overalls and threw them into the fireplace where there 
was a log still burning! Aunt Margaret quickly got up and 
ran over to the fireplace and pulled them out before they 
caught on fire. She set them down on the hearth. They were 
only damaged on one of the legs as it had gotten seared and 
was smoldering.
        Derek then ran to my bedroom, where Aunt Margaret 
caught up with him. He was hollering and swearing. He 
started kicking my stuff around my room and then he tried in 
vain to take his diapers off, though there were so many pins 
holding them on that they he couldn't pull them off of his 
body. He ran back out of my room and back out to the 
kitchen. Aunt Margaret caught up with him and she tried to 
hold him down. My Mom had to go in there and help Aunt 
Margaret hold him down.
        "Derek!" she scolded. "I will not tolerate this 
behavior!"
        Aunt Margaret started taking his diapers off while 
threatening to give him the biggest spanking ever. 
        "You want these diapers off? Well, they're coming off 
now because you're getting a really big spanking!"
        "No, Mom! No!" Derek cried.
        Luckily for Derek, my mother intervened and suggested 
to Aunt Margaret that there were other, more appropriate 
ways to punish Derek for his misbehavior, such as laxatives. 
Aunt Margaret decided that this would be more appropriate 
for the situation at hand and she gave Derek the option of 
either swallowing two laxative tablets, or getting his 
bottom severely beaten. He chose to take the laxative pills, 
which would ultimately carry out the duration of the 
punishment for several hours like the pain that followed a 
spanking. At least the pain from a spanking decreased as 
time passed, but being in diapers and continually soiling 
them, adding more and more poop to them, would become 
increasingly uncomfortable.
        After Derek was settled back down the gift opening 
resumed as we got down to the larger presents that were 
addressed "from Santa Claus." There were three similarly-
sized packages for Derek, Bobby and me. I grabbed mine first 
and started opening it. For a brief moment I thought it was, 
at long last, the video game system I had been wanting for 
the last three Christmases, but the weight of the box 
quickly dismissed this hope. I had a feeling that it was 
going to be more diapers, and upon opening it, my feelings 
were confirmed. I pulled away the cardboard flap and saw the 
gleaming white fabric of more new diapers. Santa Claus 
delivered what he promised. In addition he also included 
some more pairs of plastic pants which were even larger. The 
diapers were also larger as I pulled one of them out of the 
tightly-packed box.
        Not surprisingly, Derek and Bobby each received 
identically-packed boxes of diapers from Santa Claus as 
well, along with the necessary diaper pins. Derek had 
resigned himself to his fate of being in diapers and he 
didn't show any signs of objection other than pouting. Right 
away Aunt Margaret took off his plastic pants and put two 
more diapers on top of the four he was already wearing so he 
would also be well-diapered for the laxative once it kicked 
in. Santa also made sure that Derek's plastic pants could 
handle such an extremely thick diapering as they were very 
large. Aunt Margaret put on him one of these pairs and she 
just barely got them to fit over his huge diapers. Bobby was 
also put into his plastic pants now that he had some of his 
own that would fit.
        "Maybe next year Santa will reconsider and bring you 
boys toys again," Mom said to the three of us. "But as 
you're all growing boys, he'll have to make sure you always 
have diapers that will fit you, too, and diapers don't last 
forever, especially if you're taking laxatives all the 
time!"
        Later on we were served our Christmas dinner. By then 
Derek had started pooping in his diapers and Bobby had 
already loaded his up with some more fresh loads. Likewise I 
had dropped a big load in mine, though it wasn't induced by 
a laxative. Amy didn't even want to sit with us at the 
designated kiddie table as the smell of three boys in 
heavily soiled diapers wasn't too appetizing to her. 
        Once the early evening rolled around and after we had 
eaten dessert, we three boys were all changed out of our 
diapers, though we were each changed one at a time since we 
would all need baths. Mom worked on getting the dishes 
washed from the dinner while Amy and Aunt Margaret did the 
diaper changes. I watched as Bobby was changed first. I 
looked at him lying there on the changing pad that Amy had 
brought out from my room. I knew that once those diapers 
came off, a big smelly, poopy mess would greet Aunt 
Margaret. As I looked at Bobby with his legs up and spread 
apart I saw how he had purged out much of his bowels' poop 
accumulation and how his diapers were so deeply smothered 
all over in his shit. His mess had gone up past his balls 
and had spread to the front of his diapers. The poopy mass 
obscured the wet, yellow pee spot that otherwise would have 
been visible. Aunt Margaret had a lot of butt-wiping and 
genital wiping to do to Bobby before he was clean enough to 
be taken into the bathroom where Aunt Margaret scoured him 
thoroughly. 
        Derek was next to be changed. He, too, had dropped 
quite a bit of poop in his diapers, though Bobby was 
definitely the winner had it been a contest. The bottom four 
diapers were placed in the bucket that already contained my 
other diapers that Bobby was wearing. A second bucket had 
been brought out to hold Derek's two new, but wet diapers 
that were added to his original fourfold diaper stack. Derek 
was then taken into the bathroom for his bath, but as the 
laxative was still working in his system, he squirted a load 
into his bath water and Aunt Margaret had to start all over 
with him again.
        While Derek was in the bathroom getting cleaned up, Amy 
worked on re-diapering Bobby. She went to his box of new 
diapers and pulled six of them out and she stacked them on 
the changing pad. Bobby seemed to enjoy getting his nuts and 
his ass powdered up prior to getting several of his brand 
new diapers yanked up into his crotch and pinned up high 
above his waistline. Once he was in his plastic pants he was 
turned loose while she started on Derek.
        "I don't want her to do it," he said sullenly.
        "You let her diaper you, Derek, or it'll be a spanking 
        *and* a laxative pill!" Aunt Margaret warned. 
        Derek quickly retreated from his resistance and took 
his position on the changing pad. Amy layered together 
another set of six diapers that came from his box.
        "I don't need that many diapers," Derek said to Amy. 
        She looked down at his crotch and noticed his large erection 
surrounded by some pubic hair sprouts.
        "From the looks of your wiener, it looks like you're 
looking forward to wearing them!" Amy smirked. She brought 
the diapers up over his body as far as she could pull them 
up and then she locked the pins into the fabric. Derek was 
then let go, where he ran to the couch and sulked some more.
Aunt Margaret then took my diapers off and dealt with 
my mess.
        "I'm glad you're not on laxatives," Aunt Margaret 
sighed with relief as she had already dealt with cleaning up 
her two sons' mega-messy bottoms. My bottom was only 
moderately messy, comparatively speaking. By the time it was 
my turn in the bathroom the air really stank, even with the 
fan going and the window above the tub cracked open. It was 
cold in the bathroom and I shivered as I stepped out of the 
bath water and dried off. I walked naked over to Amy, where 
she already had my diapers waiting along with a big pile of 
safety pins. I looked at the stack of diapers and questioned 
how many of them she was going to put on me. She counted 
them out in front of me.
        "...six, seven, eight!" she said.
        "Eight?!" I gasped.
        "Remember when you thought eight pairs of underwear was 
thick?" she remarked. Compared to what she was about to put 
on me, eight pairs of underwear worn together seemed like a 
thong bikini. I could tell from her wry smile that she was 
getting some satisfaction on making me wear so many diapers 
at a time. She used every diaper pin she had available to 
fasten all of the diapers on me. Even as big as my plastic 
pants were, I didn't think they stood a chance of fitting, 
but Amy managed to force them on top of the overly-abundant 
volume of diapers.
        As we went to bed that night I had a lot to think about 
on that last night that Derek and Bobby were staying as 
guests for Christmas. I wondered how my life would be 
affected as would the lives of my cousins. I knew it would 
be the Fourth of July before we would see each other again.
Derek again chose to sleep on the floor. I imagined 
this  was so that he could "scratch his itch" again. I could 
barely keep my body balanced as my diapers were so thick 
around me that I didn't have a flat side to lay on. Even in 
my double bed, Bobby and I were forced to cross our legs as 
our diapers kept them so widely spread apart. As I drifted 
off to sleep, I thought about how this would very likely be 
a Christmas that I would never forget.
        The next morning came early as Aunt Margaret woke us up 
to get her boys ready for the long drive home. Mom made us 
some breakfast before she gave everyone a goodbye hug and a 
kiss and took off for work. As Derek and Bobby had only peed 
in their diapers, they were left unchanged as they gathered 
their stuff up and took it out to the car. 
        I watched Derek and Bobby walk out into the snow as 
they left. They looked so silly wearing their dark-colored 
heavy winter coats that so starkly contrasted with their 
white, bulging, ultra-thickly diapered butts protruding out 
so prominently. Their skinny, bare legs had nothing to 
protect them from the blowing cold wind except for their 
tube socks. I waved goodbye to them before they climbed into 
the car. Through the front window I watched them drive away.
        As I sat around in my diapers that day I enjoyed the 
return of the solitude that I missed for three days. Iplayed 
with the toys I had gotten and I had time to think. I had a 
lot to think about. I thought about how my life was going to 
be changed, as were the lives of Derek and Bobby. I wouldn't 
see them again until we gathered the following summer over 
the Fourth of July. Most likely the three of us would spend 
the whole time just wearing diapers and shirts. The same 
would go for the many more years of Christmas gatherings 
that lied ahead.