Welcome to the Joint Training Command

Me and my buddies all decided to enlist after the Towers and what happened thereafter. The government had merged all basic training into one glob, which made about as much sense as anything back then. I asked about it and was told, “We’re gonna teach everybody everything.” I thought good luck with that. But one good thing was I got to be with my buddies at least for a while longer. And after all, PT is PT, more or less. I thought.

We just got to our barracks and began to stow our stuff when some meanie showed up and ordered us to completely strip and stand at attention. I thought it was for bug spray, or vaccination, like that. No. “You will make best efforts to defecate in the head, and failing that, tomorrow morning.”

“Following this, you will proceed to the group showers and thoroughly scrub and rinse, and report back here in formation.”

I thought this guy was a nut. “By order of the Secretary of Defense, all inductees shall be thoroughly diaper trained as a proven method of avoiding enemy detection by means of concealing their bodily wastes. They shall be trained in individual, buddy system, and group procedures towards this end. The initial conditioning period shall last 3 months and run concurrently with other training.”

I nudged Fred, I whispered, “Well, it’s better than being blown to bits.”

The male medic got Fred first, and diapered and duct taped him up (that was on account the diapers could fall off when they got wet),and asked him if he could handle his buddy (meaning me.) We both said sure, and he did a good job. Eventually we all got done, and they brought in Gatorade and beer. “Y’all drink a Gatorade apiece then as much beer as you want.” If you need them, there’s extra diapers and plastic pants over yonder in the corner. Tomorrow we’ll start using the other kind.”

“Oh boy, am I gonna get drunk, this is a little weird.” We barely got half our Gatorade down when most of us had to piss like race horses. Diapers were totally soaked in short order. Fred and me changed our buddies 10 at a time until we all got done. (It wasn’t bad, only 25 guys, counting us.) We started sucking down the beers, and I detailed a couple of our future Rangers to handle the change this time. Rob and Joe came over and took care of us, and Rob cracked me up, “I couldn’t help but notice you had an erection when I changed you”; “tell me about it”, “naw, I have the same damn problem”.

We sucked some more beers down and felt a lot more relaxed. And needed to pee some more, and get changed again. Meanwhile Rob came over and offered a solution to our problem. He just rubbed my diapered crotch, and I thought my head would explode. “Teach your buddies how to do that, and maybe we’ll get some shuteye.”

Next morning, same drill. Guys had to poop, get her done. Showers. Jocks, PT shorts and shirts. 2 mile run. Breakfast. Don’t ask me to discuss grits. After that, we were ordered back to barracks to get back into diapers. So we all stripped and waited for the inevitable. Except this time the medics brought out these thick, fluffy cloth diapers. They stacked them in 3 and this time they went for Fred. They pinned them on him real tight both at the thigh and waist, then got his plastic pants on, which fit real tight over those diapers. I have to admit I was a little turned on.

They took care of me, too, then I told them we did the heavy lifting last time, so get a couple other guys to make the rounds. We just shoved T-shirts and shorts on for chow, came back to the barracks, where there was an amazing quantity of Gatorade, beer, and snacks to be had. And more of those thick, fluffy, cloth diapers and plastic pants.

The medics showed up with MORE of that stuff, followed by the creep. “You boys have 2 days off. Live it up.”

Okay. Fred and I, and none of us really understood the whole deal. But those cloth diapers sure felt good when they were warm and soaked, and so did a buddy helping you out feeling more comfortable. I had a feeling that none of us could go back to feeling “normal” again, but, hey, screw it. Too late. We went on to do what we needed to do. And came back with a liking for cumming in our wet diapers.

I knew one thing, the creep needed a taste of his own medicine. The medics despised him too, so they armed me with one of those injector things loaded with “a special blend”. A day or so later, creep arrives, and my beefier buddies were lying in wait to strip him naked and give him the shot, followed up by diapering him up like a dumpling. We force fed him a few beers, and nature took its course. Actually not, he was still a prick.

After our service was over, I reckon it was inevitable me and Fred got a big house together, and made our fellow diaper buddies welcome. But by that time, we didn’t feel like victims anymore. And, we “live it up”. Visitors beware.