Darryl woke up feeling normal again. His flu was gone and he was anxious to be on his way. Marsha Duncan (a pediatrician) and her son Jack had taken Darryl in when he had collapsed at the service station where Jack worked. When Darryl had regained consciousness he was highly embarrassed that Jack had discovered his diapers. For his part, Jack was delighted and admitted to Darryl that he, too, adored wearing them. An instant friendship was established.

The previous night they had talked at length about themselves: their childhoods, their future plans, etc. Before retiring, Jack had disclosed to Darryl that he was also leaving for State College the next day. (Jack was a second semester freshman; Darryl was just beginning his freshman year with the January term.) Since Marsha wouldn’t let her son have a car while at college (“Until you prove that you won’t spend all your time partying—no way.”) it had been decided that Jack would leave with Darryl. Marsha was delighted at not having to ferry him up there herself.

Darryl stretched again, luxuriating in the warmth of his sleeper. He smiled as he wet his diaper. The was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Darryl said.

“You’re looking very well this morning. How do you feel?” Marsha asked.

“Great!” Darryl answered enthusiastically.

“That’s good. Are you ready for breakfast?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’m really hungry this morning.”

“Well, I see you’re getting back to normal fast,” Marsha laughed. “Get up and come down to the kitchen. You can shower and get into fresh diapers after breakfast.”

Darryl was not used to the nonchalant and open way that Jack and his mom spoke about diapers. He pushed the covers back and looked at the yellow sleeper he was wearing. Even lying down his diapered state was obvious. He got up and shyly walked down to the kitchen. Jack, wearing a similar sleeper, was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Hi. How do you feel?” he asked warmly.

“Great, thanks. I’ll feel even better once I get something inside me.”

“Ah, the patient has regained his appetite, I see,” Jack teased. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

“OK, you guys sit down and get out of my way while I finish preparing breakfast.” Marsha ordered.

Breakfast was delicious and Darryl enjoyed every mouthful. He went back upstairs and took a shower, walking back to his room wrapped in a towel. On the bed lay the clothes he was wearing the day he got sick plus a pair of semi-transparent side-snap plastic pants and a cloth diaper. He picked up the diaper and examined it. It was unlike any he had ever seen. It was fairly thick, hourglass shaped, and imprinted with teddy bears. He blushed as he realized how much he wanted to wear it. Until this moment he had expected to go back to his disposables. He jumped as a voice from the open door of the room interrupted his musings.

“That’s Jack’s favorite daytime style. It’s thick enough to last for several hours yet contoured so that it isn’t too bulky. It also has a special soaker in the center that keeps moisture locked in,” Marsha said. “Do you need help putting it on?”

Darryl blushed again as he realized that Marsha was assuming that he wanted to wear it. He wasn’t sure if he could manage to get it on correctly all by himself. In fact, he didn’t even know if there was a “back” and “front” to the diaper.

“Uh, yeah. I think I do,” Darryl admitted.

“OK, spread your towel on the bed. We don’t need a changing pad since you’re already clean.”

Darryl was taken aback. Should he let Jack’s mother diaper him? He had really enjoyed the babying he had been getting over the last few days. “She is a doctor,” he said to himself. “And, she wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t want to do it.” He let go of his inhibitions. He unwrapped the towel from around his waist and laid down on it.

Marsha asked him to lift up so that she could position the diaper under him. She reached for baby powder and sprinkled a liberal amount over his diaper area. She asked him to roll over so that she could do his backside. Her gentle touch was getting him aroused and it was beginning to show. Laying on his back again, she pulled the diaper up between his legs. He felt the bulky fabric and wondered if his pants would show a diaper bulge. She pinned the sides tightly using two pins on each side.

“I could also have used baby oil but I’m presuming that you’re only going to wet this diaper. Jack only uses baby oil at night in case he wants to do more than just wet his diaper.”

“Mom!” Jack protested from the hallway. “Did you have to tell Darryl that?”

“Sorry, honey. But he would have found out soon enough,” Marsha said defensively.

“Well, OK, I guess,” Jack sulked. “Anyway, I see that Darryl doesn’t need me to help him get into his diaper.”

Actually, Jack already knew that his mom was diapering Darryl. He had come to the guest room to show off his baby-print diaper and side-snap plastic pants. Now that Darryl had seen him he went back to his room to finish dressing.

Darryl and Jack went to load up the car. Even though most of Jack’s stuff was already at college they had trouble fitting everything in. It took Jack several minutes to convince Darryl to give up the five bulky packages of disposable diapers that he had brought along.

“You’ve already admitted that you really like the cloth diapers. I’ve got plenty of them for myself at school. You’ll have to get rid of the disposables for this extra supply of cloth diapers and plastic pants to fit into the trunk. You won’t need the disposables. I promise.” Jack insisted.

“But what about the laundry? Cloth diapers will pile up fast. I can’t go into the dorm laundry and wash them publicly,” Darryl retorted.

The argument was settled when Jack agreed to accept all responsibility for washing the dirty diapers.

“But, you’ll take care of hand washing the plastic pants. OK?”

[Darryl would later protest bitterly that he had been tricked. Jack had already contracted with a diaper service to take care of his diapers. All he had to do was drop off the dirty loads and pick up the clean ones.]

It was time to leave. Jack and Darryl said good-bye to Jack’s mother.

“Be careful on the road,” Marsha exhorted the guys as they pulled out of the driveway.

Once on the interstate Jack and Darryl continued their conversation from the night before.

“How did you get interested in diapers?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know,” Darryl answered honestly. “It was something that was always there, at least since I was twelve of thirteen. Every time I saw a diaper ad on TV or saw a diapered kid on the street I would feel attracted to them. For a long time I thought that I would outgrow the urge to wear diapers. It really is only in the last two years that I have started getting comfortable about them”

“Wow,” Jack remarked, “it must have been tough fighting with yourself for all those years. Did you ever get caught? You know, by your parents or anyone?”

“Almost. One time I left a wet diaper under my bed on house cleaning day but luckily my mom never found it. My parents would have gone ballistic if she had.”

“Really?” Jacked pressed.

“Well, maybe not. I’m not sure anymore. In the last few days, I’ve caught myself thinking that maybe I could tell my parents about my diapers. I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to push you but I think that you’d be a lot happier if you did.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Darryl admitted.

The drove in companionable silence for some time.

“Darryl,” Jack began, “there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

Jack’s seriousness worried Darryl.

“What?”

“Do you remember that I said that I called the college to tell them that you would miss orientation because you were sick? Well, that’s not all I told them.”

Darryl was now thoroughly confused. What was Jack getting at?”

“Well?” Darryl prompted.

“I said that you might not need your dorm room because you were thinking of requesting a change into my dorm.”

“So,” Darryl said hesitantly. “What does that mean?”

“I was hoping that you would consider rooming with me. It would be perfect. You’re a more serious student than I am, so your influence would probably be good. When I first applied for State I told them about my diapers (I called it ‘special needs,’ Jack said giggling.) and they consented to giving me a room alone. Because there are no private rooms available to freshmen I was given a double. If you wanted, we could share the room. What do you say?”

Darryl was overjoyed but he decided to string Jack along a little. He kept his face impassive and hesitated for a few moments. Jack was visibly downcast.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I shouldn’t have tried to impose on you.”

Darryl couldn’t keep his straight face any longer. He began whooping and laughing.

“Of course I want to share a room with you. Do you know how many years I dreamed of having a diaper buddy?”

With that they arrived at the campus. Jack directed Darryl to the dorm parking lot. They got Darryl registered and reassigned to Jack’s room. About an hour later they had unpacked the car and were staring at a pile of boxes and suitcases in the dorm room.

“We can get this stuff unpacked later. Let’s go see what’s going on,” Jack said.

Jack gave Darryl the complete tour and introduced him to some of the friends he had made during the first semester. Darryl felt completely at home. College was going to be even better than he had dared imagine. After lunch, they went back to the room to unpack. In the middle of it all, Darryl asked the question that been on his mind all day.

“What about you, Jack? How did you get started?”

Since Jack and Darryl were sorting and putting away diapers and plastic pants he presumed the topic was diapers.

“Actually, it wasn’t my idea. It was my mom’s,” Jack said with a smile.

“Your mom’s!” Darryl fairly screeched in surprise. “Your mom put you back in diapers? When? Why?”

“No, no,” Jack laughed. “It’s not like you’re thinking. Let me show you.”

Jack rummaged around in a file drawer and handed Darryl a stack of papers.

“I wrote the story last semester. I’ve been thinking of posting it on the net. Here, read it and tell me what you think.”

“OK, sounds great. But,” Darryl said sheepishly, “I need a diaper change first.”

“Cool. I’ll change you and then you can change me. One of the greatest things about the dorm is how hot they heat the rooms. I usually don’t wear pants when I’m in here.”

They changed each other’s soaking diapers as if they had done it to each other for years. Not that they were uncaring or blasé, rather it just felt comfortable and natural.

Darryl sat on his bed trying to get comfortable so that he could begin reading Jack’s story. Jack surprised him by jumping on the bed, too.

“That’s enough work for today. I want to read the story again, too,” Jack announced.

He scooted up the bed and leaned back against the wall.

“Read it out loud. OK?” Jack asked.

“It Was My Mom’s Idea” by Jack Duncan.

Hi. My name is Jack Duncan. I’m eighteen years old and I wear diapers 24/7. For those of you who don’t know what that means, it stands for 24 hours-a-day, seven days a week. I’m not sick or anything; I wear them because I like to. I didn’t always know this about myself. It was my mom who got me into wearing diapers.

That may sound kind of weird so I’d better explain how it all happened. My mom is a pediatrician and she had a patient, Nicki, who had a severe wetting problem. He was born in the former Soviet Union and his parents emigrated to the United States a few years after the USSR collapsed, in about 1993, when he was eleven. His dad was a civil engineer who got a job with the local coal mining company where I live. It’s a small place called Porterville. The coal mines directly or indirectly employ just about everybody who lives in and around Porterville. Anyway, they moved here and immediately began trying to find a doctor who could help Nicki. His parents were ready to try anything to make him dry. They brought him to my mom who put him through all the tests she knew about. The conclusions were indisputable: it was a neuro-muscular problem with no known cure. Nicki and his parents were devastated. My mom felt bad for them so she recommended that they visit a specialist at Chicago Children’s Hospital. They spent a lot of money on more tests and exams. The results came back the same. No known therapy and no known cure. By this time, other kids had found out that Nicki wore diapers. A significant number of kids began taunting and teasing him. I knew what was really going on so I tried to protect him from them.

[“That was very kind of you,” Darryl interrupted.

“Thanks. Now shut up a continue reading,” Jack said.]

But it didn’t really do much good. Except for me and a couple of other friends, no one wanted to associate with him. He became extremely depressed. He was a very smart kid (he had mastered English in just a few months) but he seemed to have lost all desire to improve himself. He would show up at school without his homework (even though he had really done it). He even began withdrawing from the few friends he had. He would only reluctantly come out to play with us for fear of being taunted by the others.

One day my mom asked to talk to me after dinner. She told me that Nicki felt isolated because he thought he was all alone in the world with his problem. She thought that his sense of isolation could be lessened if he met other kids with similar wetting problems.

“Jack, do you want Nicki to be happy?” my mom asked.

“Sure, but what can I do?”

“Would you be willing to pretend that you had a problem like Nicki’s? Bedwetting, for instance,” my mom suggested.

“You mean lie to him?” I asked.

“No, honey. Let’s think of it more as therapy. If you pretended to be a boy who has bedwetting problems you could maybe get Nicki to talk openly about his feelings. You would be able to put him at ease. He desperately needs an outlet.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I kind of knew what my mother wanted. She wanted me to be a role model to Nicki: to be someone his age who also wore diapers because of a bladder control problem. If he thought that wearing diapers didn’t bother me, maybe his need for diapers wouldn’t bother him so much.

“How long would I have to wear them?” I asked.

“Well, you wouldn’t have to wear them all the time. Maybe you could have sleepovers with him once or twice a month. No one else would need to know.”

“OK,” I agreed.

My mom gave me a hug and said that she was proud of what I was going to do. She was sure that once Nicki’s self-confidence was built up I could gradually “get cured” and no longer need diapers for sleepovers.

The next problem was to figure out a way to let Nicki in on my “secret”.

“We have time to figure that out,” my mom said. “For now, I’ll order you some diapers from my medical supplier.”

I thought she was going to get me disposables but she explained that it would be better if I wore what Nicki wore. She ordered me a supply of cloth diapers and plastic pants. When they arrived about a week later, I was home sick with a cold. My mom began unpacking the order.

“How come you ordered so many?” I asked pointing to the eighteen thick diapers and twelve plastic pants.

“When you have sleepovers, Nicki is going to see your room. If you only have two or three diapers he might not take you seriously. Didn’t you tell me that you saw lots of diapers at his house?”

“Yeah, but he wears them all the time.”

“And you’re supposed to be wearing them every night when you go to bed. I ordered the same number I recommend that parents get for their bedwetting kids,” my mom responded.

“Where will they be stored”

“In your room, of course. We can make room for the plastic pants in the bottom drawer of your dresser and the diapers can go onto the shelves in your closet. Don’t worry, they won’t be seen by anyone else.”

I was beginning to worry about what I had gotten myself into. I still wanted to help my friend Nicki but it was getting to be much more complicated than I ever imagined.

“I’ll wash these diapers so that they’ll be ready to use.”

A couple of hours later I was resting in bed when my mother came in with the freshly laundered diapers.

“Are you feeling better, honey?” she asked me.

“A little. But my head still hurts.”

My mom felt my forehead and cheeks.

“You still have a slight fever. I’ll get you more aspirin.”

As I was taking the aspirin my mom started putting away the diapers and plastic pants. I noticed that she had also gotten some diaper pins and a container of baby powder.

“Honey, since you’re not going anywhere today, this might be a good day for you to start practicing with diapers in bed.”

“Practicing? What do you mean?” I asked nervously.

“The sooner you tell Nicki about your “bedwetting,” the sooner he’ll start feeling better about himself. When you invite him for a sleepover you’ll have to look natural in your diapers and plastic pants. If the first time you wear them is when he comes over, he might wonder why you don’t seem used to them.”

“I guess that makes sense. If I’m better by Friday, can I invite him over for Saturday night?” I asked.

“We’ll see. You really are something special, honey,” my mom said, giving me a hug. “What you’re doing for Nicki is very kind and very brave. Now let’s get you diapered.”

My mom helped me take my pajama bottoms off. She laid me on a towel and powdered me thoroughly, front and back. By the time she slid the thick diaper under me I was shaking like a leaf.

“It’s OK, honey. Everything will be all right,” she said soothingly.

I calmed down a little bit. She pinned the diaper and slid the plastic pants up my legs. The elastics at the waist and leg openings felt a little snug but, all things considered, it didn’t feel so bad to be in a diaper. My mom asked me to stand up to put my pajama bottoms back on. They wouldn’t fit.

“I guess you’ll need larger pajamas. See, we do need to practice so that we can correct all the unexpected problems we run into. I’ll buy you some new pajamas later today. Now, get back into bed and rest.”

I did as I was told but I had an urgent question to ask.

“Mom, do I have to wet the diapers, too?”

“Eventually, I suppose so. If you have several sleepovers with Nicki he’ll probably think it’s suspicious if you always wake up dry. But, we don’t have to worry about that now.”

I spent the rest of that morning and most of the afternoon in bed. My mom had gone to her practice for a couple of hours to keep her scheduled appointments. When she got back she showed me the new pajamas she had bought. They were pretty cool- they were in a space ship motif that I really liked. Around dinner time, I asked my mom if I could take my diaper off because I needed to go to the bathroom. I had actually tried to wet but I couldn’t get the hang of how to do it. The more I concentrated on wetting, the more impossible it seemed to be. She came in and took the diaper off me.

“I think you did very well for your first time. How did the diaper and plastic pants feel? Uncomfortable?”

“No, not really,” I said. I hadn’t paid much attention to them because of my headache but now that I thought about it they didn’t bother me at all. “I kinda forgot I even had them on.”

“Good. After you’re done in the bathroom come back here and I’ll put you into a fresh diaper.”

I almost objected but something inside me said that it wasn’t worth it. Wearing the diaper and plastic pants was really no big deal.

“OK,” I agreed as I headed off to the bathroom.

I was quickly rediapered and put into my new pajamas. They fit very well but anyone who looked at me would be able to tell that I was wearing something very bulky underneath. With all his experience Nicki would know right away that I was in diapers, especially since the plastic pants rustled and crinkled as I moved. I decided then and there that I would never give anyone else the opportunity to see me this way.

My fever was down so my mom allowed me to watch TV although she insisted that I stay wrapped up in a blanket. She gave me a large glass of juice as she headed off to her home office to write some reports. About an hour later, I was sort of dozing when I felt the urge to pee. I relaxed and the pee started flowing. Not a lot, but enough so that I could feel the warmth as it soaked into my diaper. I was really proud of myself. I had succeeded at wetting my diaper, and I was confident that I could do it again. I remember thinking that my mom would be pleased, too. Now I could invite Nicki to a sleepover and know that I could “accidentally” wet during the night. I really wanted to help Nicki and this first wetting of my diaper seemed like an important step to that end.

I was back in school the next day and my friends were envious of my “day off” until they saw the amount of homework I had to do to catch up with them. I was pretty busy that night and the next day but by Friday I was all caught up. During these days, my mom and I discussed how to reveal my “problem” to Nicki. We decided that my cover story ought be really simple. The final version went something like this: I hadn’t told Nicki about my bedwetting because it had tapered off to practically nothing. Unfortunately, in the last few months, it had returned worse than ever. I wanted to let him know about it because I knew that I could trust him with the secret.

Because of my cold my mom wouldn’t let me invite Nicki until the following week. I took advantage of a moment when he and I were alone to invite him to the sleepover. He started out by saying that his parents wouldn’t allow it. I pressed him until he admitted that he was too embarrassed about his diapers to let anyone see him in them. I pointed out that I saw him in them every day since he wore them under his regular clothes. He said that that was different. It took me two days but I finally convinced him that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. My mom was his doctor and I didn’t care what he wore. I just wanted to have some fun on a sleepover. I told him about my plans: we would go to the video store to pick out some movies and I also had lots of games we could play. My mom called his mom and the plans were all set. He would come over in mid-afternoon on Saturday and stay over until after lunch on Sunday.

Starting on the day I invited him, I wore my diapers to bed every night and also wet them every night. I was becoming an expert diaper wetter.

They day of the sleepover I must have slept in later than usual. I was awakened by a banging on my window. (Most of the houses in town were one-floor and we kids had gotten into the habit of looking for each other by knocking on each other’s bedroom windows.) I jumped out of bed and realized that my wet diaper and plastic pants were giving a prominent bulge to my pajamas. I raced to my closet and stripped off my pajamas and put on a pair of jeans (that I hid my diaper) and a long-sleeved shirt. I ran to the window and opened the curtains.

“Geez, are you still asleep?” my friend Brad asked.

“Of course not,” I lied. “I was just hanging around by myself.”

Nicki and another of my friends, Frank, were standing outside my window holding a football.

“Whatever,” Brad said. “Do you want to come out and throw the ball around?”

“Yeah, sure. Give me a minute to put my shoes on.”

“Hurry up.”

I rummaged around my room and found some shoes and socks to wear.

“Aren’t you ready yet?” Brad called impatiently.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I answered.

I stopped in the bathroom to brush my teeth and to comb my hair. I ran outside to meet them. We started heading toward a vacant lot where we frequently played. My plan was to watch for my mom (who was probably grocery shopping) to drive by on her way home. I would say that I had a message for her from one of her patients. I’d go home and get out of my diaper and plastic pants and rejoin my friends in the vacant lot.

We started tossing the ball around but this quickly got boring. We decided to switch to a game of our own invention that was one-third keep away, one-third rugby, and one-third who-knows-what. The rules were simple. Whoever had the ball ran toward the goal line (the street) until he was touched. He had to give the ball up to whoever had touched him and then that person became the player to stop. Of course, this led to all kinds of arguments and mayhem. (I touched him first.” “No, you didn’t.” “Yes, I did.” “Well, I’ve got the ball so try to catch me.” etc. etc.) The longer the game was played, the rougher it got. We loved it.

We had been playing for a while when I saw my mom drive home. I was so engrossed in the game that I didn’t want to stop, especially since I was the only one who had scored any points. Anyway, I had the ball again and I was doing a good job of escaping from the others when Brad managed to catch me below the knees at the same time that Frank started grabbing the ball out of my hands. I guess my pants must have slipped a little bit because Brad got the idea that he could stop me by pulling my pants down around my knees. He gave them another tug at the same instant that Frank made a second stronger grab at the ball that I was still holding onto tightly. Brad wound up falling over onto his back laughing hysterically because between the two of them they had pulled me right out of my pants. I was left more or less on my feet. I still refused to let go of the ball as I tried to break Frank’s hold.

It took me a second to remember what I was wearing and then everything switched into slow motion. My first thought was totally stupid: “Damn, I should have put on a belt.” Then, I let go of the ball. When Frank turned around to see why I was giving it up, he froze in place. Behind me, Brad suddenly stopped laughing as he sat up. The worst part was the way Nicki was looking at me. His cold stare said it all. “You let me get insulted and abused by the other kids when you yourself also wear diapers. Why did you let me suffer alone? I never want to see you again. Ever.” I knew that I had to say something, and fast, or I would wreck all the plans my mom and I had made to help Nicki.

Nicki turned away and started walking rapidly back toward his house. I went after him.

“Nicki, please. Let me explain,” I pleaded.

He turned around, shook his head, and waved me off.

“Please, Nicki. It’s important.”

I was getting desperate.

“Please, stop. If I have to, I’ll follow you all the way home in just my diaper and plastic pants. You’ve got to listen. Please.”

This caught his attention.

[“It would have caught mine, too,” Darryl teased. “I wish that I could have been there to see you chasing him across the field in your diapers and plastic pants.”

“Enough of that,” Jack answered. “You’re breaking the mood. Get back to the story.”]

He stopped and waited for me to catch up with him. We were pretty close to the neighboring houses but at this point I didn’t care who saw me.

“Don’t you see, Nicki? This is why I wanted to have the sleepover tonight. I needed to tell you. I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier but it’s awfully complicated.”

Nicki’s face softened. I knew that he would listen to me. But what would I say? I wished that my mom were there to help me.

Frank and Brad caught up to us. Brad handed me my pants.

“God, Jack, I’m sorry. I didn’t know… You never even said… Please don’t hate me,” Brad said.

“It’s not your fault,” I answered as I put my pants back on. “I should have worn a belt.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Obviously, they were waiting for me to explain myself. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Do you want me and Brad to leave you two guys alone?” Frank asked.

I guess he felt that since Nicki and I were fellow diapers wearers (so to speak) we probably wanted to talk about it alone.

“No,” I answered. “You’ve been my friends forever. You should know, too.”