When Diapers Changed From Underwear Too...Almost everything in this story happened to me but the times have been edited and moved around a little so things hang together. Had I have had any idea what sexuality was at the time I could have scarred myself emotionally for life but I like to think that Helen was every bit as embarrassed, self conscious, frightened, and vulnerable as I was at the time. Looking back I can see this as one of my first sexual fantasies. At least it was when I finally figured out what those were.
I would have thought that this would have changed by now (i.e. spanking kids for wetting themselves) but it seems that many of us share the generational crime of Incontinence. I know that I Never once wet my bed on purpose and being spanked for doing something that I Knew that I Had Never Done (even though I had but just didn't know it)!!! It Really Pissed me Off! (Sorry 'bout that ... I couldn't help it :-} )
The diapers, that I had to wear, didn't bother me that much because I had spent so many of my early years in diapers anyway. So I have just the opposite attraction to the diaper/spanking experience... for me it was the Diapers and not the spankings that I liked. It wasn't the diapering and diaper changing portion that I found so stimulating. That's was nice but the wearing part part was what I really enjoyed at the time. How they felt just after a bath and a freshly pinned diaper for bed... Waking up to the sounds and feelings of me filling my diaper when I was already late getting up for my morning paper route... Sitting down to breakfast and feeling my full diapers mush up and out over my butt and hoping that my Sisters and their friends aren't going to notice this time... And ... Wondering what it would have been like if I had "Ever" been able to attend one of those Sleep Over’s that Helen's (the diapered bed wetting girl I was in Mad Puppy Love with) Grandma & Grandpa would throw for her when ever she came to visit for a few weeks at a time in the summer.
Helen was the girl that really focused me on Diapers as a turn on. None of the fantasies I had about Helen ever happened in real life but there were many times that I would catch sight of her cloth diapered bottom sitting at the kitchen table or on the floor in the living room when I would collect for the weekly newspaper bill. I would knock on the kitchen door and her Grandma would yell "come in" (people did that back then). When I would open the door I would sometimes catch Helen sitting at the table in the breakfast alcove or trying to get up and race out of the kitchen. But the only way she could get back to the rest of the house was past me and it was always great fun for me because Helen would be angry with Grandma for letting me in, she would try and pretend that the Baby Doll Nightie or the Blanket Sleepers she was wearing really did cover up her diapers well enough that I couldn't notice her diaper bulge. And the most memorable time was when I heard Helen's Grandma telling her (as I approached the door step) "to sit back down and finish her oatmeal while it was hot and she would get her poopy diaper changed after she had finished her oatmeal and after she was finished filling it up". That's when I knocked on the door.
Grandma opened the door right away and Helen was standing next to her chair in just a diaper and a regular pajama top. She had a pained look on her face and she was sort of hunched over with a hint of a squat as she leaned on the table with both hands. I could tell just by looking at her that she knew that I knew she was wearing a diaper. And I knew that she was pooping in that diaper. I remember her trying to slip into the chair to try and hide the diaper and rubber pants she was wearing but it didn't help because she was still in full view from where I was standing. When she sat down, though, it was a priceless moment. I had just watched her finish pooping in her diaper and then watched as she tried to act like she really hadn't just mooshed that mess in the seat of her pants up her front and back as she sat down. It took a few minutes for Grandma to get the money and then for me to make change and punch her card to show she had paid for that week. And while that was going on I just watched Helen and wondered how full her diaper really was, and wouldn't it be neat if I could change it for her.
Then another another "best part" happened because Grandma just up and asked me why I was acting like I had never seen anyone fill their britches before? I wasn't sure why she was asking me that and then she reminded me (and Helen) that as she recalled, she had just changed both me and Larry's (my best friend, next door neighbor, and fellow paper boy) poopy diapers the weekend before Helen got there and she wouldn't be a bit surprised if I hadn't already filled the diaper I was wearing under my overall cutoffs. Now it was my turn to be embarrassed.
Now even though we never really talked about it, I think we both first realized that we both still wore diapers and that both of us sometimes filled them up just like Helen was doing right then. And that's about when I noticed that she had started to stare at the shortall I was wearing over the night diaper I was still wearing. Even back then, cloth diapers were very bulky and it was rather complicated so taking them off or putting them on really required adult help or supervision. Since I always got up early for the news papers, most of the time had them folded and delivered before anyone else in my house was even awake I just got dressed and left my overnight diaper on. The only exception was on Sunday mornings. Sometimes my mother or Larry’s father would drive us around our paper routes and after we finished take us to an early morning breakfast. On those mornings my mother would always check me (and Larry if he slept over) to see if we were wet. If we were, then rather than just taking our diapers off for the day, my mother would just change us into dry diapers for the paper routes and breakfast. I think it was just understood that by the time breakfast was over that I, at least, would be wet again and probably would have filled the seat of my diaper by the time we got back home.
So there I was… Standing there in that deliciously awkward moment... We were both just 11 years old, and I know that Helen Knew that I was staring at her diapers. I knew that Helen’s diaper was Wet and Messy and while she looked me right in the eyes she gave me the sweetest smile with a hint of a grimace at the end as she tried wriggling her bottom into a better position so she could finish filling her diaper. What really got to me was all of her extra hip movement and the smile that said she liked what she was feeling as she rocked from one slippery cheek to the other... add to this that we never once broke eye contact as I watched her work herself into position all the while trying to poop while sitting down. I can vividly remember the Startled/Surprised look in her eyes when she leaned back slightly and with a “muffled rumble” erupted into the front of her diaper so quickly that she barely had time to stand up a little bit and I could see in her eyes that she could feel the mess filling up her midsection front to back because at first, her hands started to “fly” to her mouth, (the surprise) then, first one and then the other hand flew to the front of her diaper and the seat of her diaper. While I watched those same areas expand and stretch under her rubber pants that covered her diaper. But what really felt right about the whole experience was looking at Helen as she realized how full of poop her diapers really were. She was still looking me in the eyes as she sat back down to finish her breakfast. She knew that I was still mostly staring at her diapers all the while trying to look her in the eyes but as I watched she gave me a sly smile as she started to squeeze her legs tightly together. At the same time I could see the strain at the corner of her eyes and lips as she pushed a little more poop into the seat of her diaper. Then she just relaxed and sat all the way down and started back into her oatmeal. As I said good by and turned to leave I could just see the small dark stains on the top inside leg bands of Helen's rubber pants. And not for the first time I wished that I was the one who would get to change her diapers. Just wanted to sit at the table and talk with her.
It seems like this could have happened last week, but in truth it was almost 50 years ago. So much of that summer is lost to me but this collection of my memory’s shine. Makes me wonder what I would do if someone named Helen sent me a friend request and started filling in the details…
There is a comfort in remembering a new beginning.