Unfortunately, my next trip to the mall was not a pleasant one at all. Let em set the stage for you. It was Spring of the same year, and I was now 9. I had been under a lot of stress lately, and for some apparent reason, I began having accidents again. I wet the bed about once a week, and since it wasn't much of a problem, my parents merely remedied it with a plastic sheet over my mattress. It worked in preventing damage. I also frequently found myself just barely making it to the bathroom in school. Perhaps even worse was that my grades were dropping. I was usually a B+ student, and I was now earning C's and D's. My parents were more concerned then they were upset.

On one particular day, I most definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed...and it was a wet bed. I grumbled, cursed to myself and got everything cleaned up. This nearly made me late for school. When I got there, I found out that I had a surprise test in social studies, and I did horribly on it. What was worse yet was that most of my classmates picked this particular day to be more obnoxious then ever, so our teacher punished us by keeping us inside after lunch.

During lunch, Bruno the class bully hurled a pickle at me. I called him a name, and he threatened he'd get me for it. I wasn't too bothered by it after all that had happened today. I reported back to class for 'indoor recess' (it was more like detention), which seemed to last forever. I felt the urge to pee, but I thought I could hold it out a bit. I was wrong.

When the urge got very strong, I raised my hand. It took Mrs. Ebza awhile to notice it. "yes, Steven?" she asked.

"Mrs. Ebza," I said. "Can I please use the bathroom?"

"First of all, it's may I, and secondly you may not. You should have gone during lunch." Why did she have to give me a hard time? I said please, didn't I? I had no choice but to repeated the request.

"May I please go," I said. "It's really an emergency."

"Very well," she sighed. "Go sign the sign-out sheet." As I was getting up to do so, the inevitable happened. I began to flood my shorts right in front of the entire class. There was a lot of laughter as I exited the room. I rushed to the bathroom, but by that time, it was too late. My shorts were entirely soaked.

I grumbled and headed to the nurse. There was a bit of a line ahead of me, which led to a very long and humiliating wait. Finally, the nurse was ready to see me. "What seems to be the problem, Steven?" she asked.

I plead my case as plainly as I could, emphasizing that it wasn't my fault. Nonetheless, she seemed to think it was. "This isn't the first time this has happened, you know," she said. Yeah, I really needed to hear that! She asked me if I had another pair of shorts, to which I replied yes, I thought I did. I went to my locker and got them (we had lockers back in elementary school, they were just very small). The nurse explained that I couldn't wear my soggy underpants underneath them and then gave me 2 options: call my mom or wear training pants. Since I didn't want my mom yelling at me and giving me the third degree, I took the second options. The nurse sighed and led me to a room which had a changing table in it. She set me down on it and removed my wet clothes and put them in a plastic bag. Next, she took a pair of cloth training pants (which resembled really thick underwear). She said she normally kept them in case a kindergartner or first grader had an accident. Thanks for making my day a lot worse!

After I was dressed in the training pants and short shorts which revealed much of them, I was sent back to class. By the time I got back, recess was just ending. At least I missed most of it. People were still giving me dirty looks when I went in and got my books. I then stepped out into the hallway and was ready to go to my next class (art) when I was tripped from behind.

"So how's the pants-wetting baby?" asked Bruno. "Baby need his diapers changed?"

"Shut up and go to hell!" I said. It was rather loud and I was surprised that those words came out of my mouth. Apparently, so was he, and he was angry as well.

"You're going to die, you little punk!" he said. He picked me up and shoved me against the lockers. Mrs. Ezba came out and saw this and was about to break it up when I snapped. I kicked him in the shins and he doubled over in pain. He went to punch me, but instead smashed his fist into the locker. Just when I thought it was over and I had one, he hit me in the jaw with his left hand. It hurt like hell and I burst out into tears. At long last, another teacher came and the fight was broken up. We were both taken to the principal's office. As Bruno had a reputation, he didn't have a whole lot to say for himself. He took his suspensions as it was given to him. I desperately pleaded my case to Mr. Connors, and I got a few classmates and witnesses to vouch for me. He looked at me, stroked his chin for a minute and said. "Well Steven, this is your first time doing anything seriously wrong here, but I'm going to still have to punish you. I'll call your mom to pick you up. You'll be serving a week's detention instead of a suspension when you get back from spring break.

I was now scared in addition to beaten. My mom would kill me! I could tell by the look in her eyes when she came to pick me up. "Not one word," she said when I got in the car. The ride home was totally silent. When we got home, she took me into the bathroom and looked me over. She put some ice on my jaw, and after that sent me to my room. "Stay right there while I decide what to do with you. Don't move and don't take those training pants off!"

I sat in my room for awhile, and threw my shoe against the wall to vent some of my anger. It didn't help. After awhile, I felt the urge to move my bowels. I yelled down to my mom, who was on the phone, that I needed to go and she yelled back to me to use my training pants. I shrugged my shoulders, figured what the hell and dumped my load.

After awhile, my mom came up to talk to me. "I was one the phone with Roseanne (my friend Gary's mom), and she told me what happened. While I'm glad you stuck up for yourself,. Punching somebody like that is unacceptable. We did not raise you that way!"

"I'm sorry but it wasn't my fault...." She cut me off and continued. "I was originally going to give you a spanking, followed by one from your father, and a week's grounding without any privileges."

"But it's spring break!"

"I know, so I've decided to be more lenient. There is an alternate punishment, but you'll have to go along with it no questions asked. You give me any trouble and I'll give you a spanking. It too will last for one week. You got that, young man?"

"Yes mom." "Good," she said. "Now take off your shorts and we'll go to the mall."

"I can't go like this."

"You can and you will." She tugged them off of me, allowed me to put my shoes back on, and dragged me to the car in just my messy training pants. The ride there was silent as well. In as much as I didn't want a spanking, I was very hesitant about my mom's course of action. I was downright scared when we parked near the Macy's entrance, but I wasn't about to complain.

We got some odd looks form the moment we entered, but my mom ignored me. We walked right to the escalator and took it upstairs to...oh no, the baby department! I knew what was coming and I dreaded it. Mom took me over to the counter. The same salesperson who was there when I was 4, a middle aged black woman, was still working there, only now she was in charge of the department.

"Back again, I see," she said. She obviously remembered me.

"Yes, well Steven's been a bad boy lately and he could use some diaper discipline," my mom explained much to my chagrin.

"Oh really," said the saleswoman (her name tag read Victoria). "well we have the perfect thing for him. She showed my mom a pair of plastic pants that had a lock on them. There was no way in hell I was going to be wearing them!

I went along with the embarrassing procedure of having Victoria measure my waist. She got about 2 dozen or so cloth diapers and a couple of pairs of plastic pants, all locking and handed them to my mom. Mom thanked her and dragged me off to the changing room. She got me up on the table, which was intentionally oversized, but did not take off my poopy training pants. She pulled them down and put an ample amount of powder on me. Instead, she took about 5 or 6 diapers and pout them over the training pants and pinned them tightly shut. Over these went the plastic locking pants. "No, please not those," I said. My mom ignored em and slapped my thigh so I'd cooperate. On they went, and pretty soon I heard the clicking of the lock. Next, my mom took a bottle filled with some sort of liquid and shoved into my mouth. Ugh, it was Castor Oil! She told me I'd better not spit it out and made me drink down the whole thing. It was repulsive.

Just when I thought it was over, mom pulled out a leash-type device and attached one end to my wrist and the other end to hers. She stuck a pacifier in my mouth and warned me that I'd better keep it there and at last we were done. By this point, I had been transformed into a completely helpless baby!

Mom purchased a few more things and we left the baby department, but not Macy's. Mom decided to do some shopping for herself, so we entered the woman's clothing section. I was forced to stand by her side while she looked through dress after dress, blouse after blouse. People who passed by kept on pointing at me and making all sorts of comments. One lady even called both me and my mom crazy. The only thing I could do at all was to pee my diapers, and that didn't help things too much.

Mom took her sweet time, and when she finally found something for herself, I was ready to applaud. We left Macy's at last and entered the rest of the mall, with me in my diapered condition. I felt like disappearing, as there were hundreds of people there and they were all pointing at me. Mom pretended they didn't exist and strolled through the mall casually, dragging me along with her.

"Why is your son wearing a diaper?" asked a woman with a child of her own.

"Oh, Steve's been a bad boy lately."

"And this helps correct that?"

"It's working so far."

"Maybe little Sal could use some diaper punishment in the near future as well."

"Mom!" the boy whined.

"I've told you for the last time not to interrupt me while I'm speaking!" scolded the boy's mother. "Now come along and I'm going to buy you some diapers and spank your bottom!"

"No!" the boy shouted as his mother dragged him away. As we parted company, I gave him a pitying glance.

Later on, we encountered a teenage girl and what appeared to be her younger brother. "See," said the girl. "Your not the only kid who needs diapers."

"Actually, Steve doesn't need them," explained my mom. "He's just been bad lately and this is his punishment."

The girl frowned a bit then answered. "Oh. Well my brother's a bit of a handful, too. He wears diapers because he keeps on having accidents and it's just easier this way."

"Interesting," said my mom.

By now, I was fighting to hold back tears. My bowels were also straining as the castor oil was having its effect. I began dancing from foot to foot until my mom told me to cut it out. The tears began pouring out as I was left with no choice but to poop in my diaper in front of everyone in the mall.

"Oh, he just went, didn't he?" asked the girl.

"Yes. The castor oil I gave him appears to be working."

"Well, aren't you going to change him?" she asked.

"Not just yet," mom replied. "I don't want him to be enjoying this."

"Well he's going to get a rash."

"I put plenty of powder on, and besides, I've been his mother for all his life so I should think I know what I'm doing!"

"Sorry."

"Since you seem to be a responsible enough young lady to care for his needs, perhaps you won't mind watching him for a moment. I have to go buy something that I don't particularly want him to see."

"Sure."

"Thanks, dear. I won't be long."

Mom un-tethered me and handed the end of the leash to the girl and took off. I was now in the hands of a total stranger. Could my day get any worse?

The girl's brother, who was visibly diapered under his pants stared at me in awe. Here I was an older boy then he and wearing layer upon layer of thick diapers that were recently dirtied. He must have been pretty excited.

"Well what am I going to do with you, Steven?" the girl asked. I shrugged my shoulders. "Bet you want those smelly diapers off, huh?" I nodded. She smiled and paced back and forth. Was this some kind of sick joke to her or something? "Well your mom said not to take them off, but I think I can make you feel better anyway. She sat down on a nearby bench and made me sit on her lap. It was pretty awkward. "My name's Felicia," she told me. "And I love babies. I want to have one as soon as I'm married." Why was she telling me.

"It's cool talking to you since you can't say anything mean back." She patted me on the head. "My brother Normie's been wearing diapers since he was 5. He's 6 1/2 now. I don't think he was potty trained for more then a year and even then most of his underwear was dirty."

Normie blushed and turned away from his sister. "Bet you thought you were the only kid in diapers, huh?" I wish I was able to tell her that I wasn't. "Hey I wonder what you did that was so bad anyway. Did you steal something?" I shook my head. "Did you get in a fight?" I nodded. "What are you, some kind of bully?" I shook my head again. "Oh, I see. Poor Steve, some kid beat you up and you have to walk around like this all day on top of it." I nodded. It was good to be able to tell somebody my side of the story and have them understand it even though I hadn't really said anything at all.

My mom returned from her little errand with a mysterious item in a bag. Given her recent purchases, I quite frankly didn't want to know what it was. She thanked Felicia and picked me up. "Bye," said the girls and her brother in unison.

I felt like dying when we stopped right out front of the arcade. Inside were several teenagers with nothing better to do then waste money and loiter around. The mall rats. My idols. However, they'd turn on me instantly if they saw me like this. Mom was sure to make sure they did. She tethered me to a bench outside the arcade and took the pacifier out of my mouth (so I could explain why I was wearing diapers to them).

"What happened to you?" said a voice from behind. I was much relieved when I found out it was Chad. His brother Sam was also with him.

"Let's just having the worst day possible," I answered. I went into a few of the details.

"Ouch," he answered. "Hey, this is my brother Sam."

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he answered back. "So you wear diapers too?"

"Yup as of now I do, and I saw 2 other kids today who were wearing them or would be wearing them also."

"Awesome."

"So I take it your not going to laugh at me?"

"No, but they might," Chad said, pointing to the kids exiting the arcade. They were carrying on and laughing, but stopped when they saw me.

"What the fuck do we have here?" asked one of them. Chad tried to explain my plight, but they ignored him and began teasing me. "I don't believe this. How old are you, kid?"

"9," I answered.

"9 and wearing diapers. What the hell is wrong with that. I was out of diapers when I was like 2. Your pretty pathetic."

While they were laughing at me, Chad alerted my mom. She was a bit hesitant, but when she saw the harassment I was receiving, she rushed over to my defense. "Leave my son alone," she said.

"Well, lady, if you don't want us cracking on him, watch how you dress him!"

I was untied and dragged out of there, again in tears. The car ride home was rather unpleasant. When I got home, the details of my punishment were a bit better explained. "I was under the impression that what was causing you all this trouble was a negative attitude," said my mom. "I figured a little embarrassment could change that. However, it seems I was wrong. The problem isn't you as much as it is the rest of the kids your age. It's peer pressure. Those kids were little monsters, and if they are the mature bunch, I could just imagine what 9 year olds are like. I'm sorry, Steven."

"Am I still in trouble?"

"Yes and no. The fight wasn't your fault and you've had a very bad day. But we still have to do something about your problems."

"I think you've done enough," I said timidly.

"Steven, I am your mother and my first and foremost cause is caring about you. Don't ever forget that. If something is bothering you, you should have told your father or I. Now is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

"I don't know," I answered. "My grades and all the trouble and stuff...I can't help it. I know it's wrong but it seems normal."

"The best explanation I can give you is that your growing up."

"But I don't like it!" "Hmm...while I can't turn back time, I know something that might set you back on track."

"What is it?" I asked, even though I already knew.

I had a pretty interesting spring break. I was diapered and babied the whole time. In essence, I was grounded to my room, but I didn't mind. I was given a few toys to play with and sat on my carpeted floor in just my thick diapers. My sister would usually walk in and check on me. Sometimes, she'd bring me a bottle and feed it to me. Other times, she'd check my diapers and if necessary change them. She said it was fun talking care of me and she enjoyed giving the attention almost as much as I enjoyed getting it. The mystery item in the bag turned out to be an old fashioned spanking paddle. It was never once used on me. Instead, it hangs in the attic as a reminder just in case. On Monday when it was time to return to school, I returned wearing the training pants. They were washed and cleaned and felt comfortable to be wearing. Nobody could tell I had them on.

Even detention wasn't so bad. I sat in Mrs. Ebza's room for a few minutes after school each day for that entire week. The sun was shining and the windows were open. And a light breeze blew in. It wasn't exactly what I would call hard time.

By the end of the year, my grades were back up to all B's. I even earned an A- in conduct. This lead others kids to start calling me a teacher's pet, but I still pulled my share of stunts (throwing paper airplanes and such), and I'd sit by and smile while my classmates got detention. That kid Bruno punched a 1st grader and was expelled for good. Peace was again restored to my clustered life, and things were normal again. Sometimes, I'd sit back and think about the mall and my adventures there. Whenever I got bored, I'd ask myself whether it was time to go there again.