One day in early November, John was not at school. I figured that he had a cold or something and I stopped at his house after school to see how he was feeling. There was a police car out in front of the house! I didn’t know whether to go up to the door or not, but I was so worried that I finally went and knocked. Mrs. Olson opened the door. She looked as white as a ghost!

“John has been kidnapped! His father escaped from prison and broke into the boys’ bedroom last night. He chloroformed Josh and John and then took John away with him!”

I think I turned as white as Mrs. Olson. I called my Mom and told her what had happened, and I stayed at the Olson’s house for a while hoping that there would be some word of John. Finally, I went home. Mrs. Olson told me that John’s father was a very violent man and had been responsible for John’s bladder and kidney injuries.

“If John’s father hated him enough to hurt him that badly, why would he come and kidnap him?” I asked my Dad.

“Sometimes even very abusive parents have attachments to their children. Also, he may blame John for his imprisonment and want to get even. Either way, John is in grave danger. I just hope he can manage to escape,” my Dad said.

John woke up with a splitting headache. He felt disoriented and when he opened his eyes everything was dark. He reached for the lamp over his bed, but his hand hit what felt like the ceiling. Then he realized that he was not in his bed. He heard an engine running and soon he realized that he was in the trunk of a car. His father! That must be it! Panic gripped him. His hands and legs were tied, and he had tape over his mouth. He felt around in the trunk and found a small flashlight. He managed to switch it on and he examined the inside of the trunk. He was hoping to find a knife, but the only tools were a tire jack and a lug wrench. The lug wrench had a pry handle on one side. “If only I can pop the trunk!” John thought. Just then he felt the car slow down and stop. John hid the flashlight and the lug wrench under some rags. Then he pretended to still be asleep.

“Wake up you stinkin’, pissy freak. I need to get some sleep and I don’t want you smothering in there. That would be too easy a death for you after what you did to me!” John’s father hissed.

They were in a wooded area with no houses or other buildings in sight. John’s father lifted him out of the trunk and carried him to a tree. Then he tied John up around the tree.

John’s nighttime diaper was completely drenched. He didn’t feel like pooping in it because he was really scared “poopless”.

John’s father was eating some chips, but he didn’t offer any to John. He also didn’t give him anything to drink.

“I don’t want you pooping in your pants, so you don’t get any food. You won’t pee so much if I don’t give you anything to drink. After a few days when we get far away from here I may feed you, if I feel like it. If you weren’t such a little slob and used the toilet like a normal kid, it would be different.”

“You’re the reason I wet my pants. I don’t have any choice!” John said.

“What have I told you about back-talk?” said John’s father, who then punched him in his mouth.

John’s father curled up in a sleeping bag and went to sleep. John just lay against the tree miserably.

“If he puts me back in the trunk, maybe I can escape,” thought John.

After several hours, John’s father woke up. He put John back in the trunk and started the car. As soon as they started to move, John got out the flashlight and lug wrench and started working on the trunk latch. It took a couple of hours, but finally he had it unlocked. They were traveling too fast for John to jump out, though.

“What if he stops and comes back here and finds the lock sprung?” John thought.

He thought about hitting him with the tire iron. He wondered if he could bring himself to kill his father. He didn’t like the idea of killing anyone, and although his father had been brutal to him, he could not say that he wanted him dead. Still, if he didn’t kill his father, then his father might kill him. All of this was going through his mind when he felt the car slow again. The car stopped and he waited. His father did not come back to the trunk. John lifted the lid a little bit and looked out. They were parked at a convenience store. His father had gone inside. Quickly, John opened the lid and rolled out. He was still tied up, but he was able to roll under a truck that was parked next to the car. Then he peeked out from under the truck and noted the license plate number of his father’s car. John could always memorize numbers really easily and this really paid off now. John just hoped that his father left before the driver of the truck.

John’s father walked out with some groceries and got in the car. Without checking the trunk, he drove off. When he was out of sight, John went to a phone booth and dialed 911. Within a few minutes three patrol cars pulled up. John told them the license number of the car and the direction that his father had taken. Two of the cars went off in pursuit and the other took John back to his home. The Olson family was ecstatic. Mr. Olson called me and my parents brought me right over there.

After John was almost hugged to death, Mrs. Olson took him into the bathroom and bathed him. He usually just took showers, but she seemed to want to mother him a bit more now. Then he was put in clean cloth diapers and plastic pants. She took him to the kitchen and made pancakes and sausage for everybody.

After about an hour the phone rang. John’s father had led the police on a high-speed chase. Finally, his car had gone over a cliff. John’s father was dead.

“He probably thought I was still in the car,” said John. “He wouldn’t have cared.”

Even with the shock of his father’s death, John was so relieved at being home safe that we had a good celebration. My parents understood that I would not be parted from John today and I was allowed to stay home from school with him. He needed the time to recover and everybody thought that having his best friend by his side would help. It was a Friday and so that gave us a long weekend together. This was my longest period so far to be in diapers full-time.

“I wet my diaper!” I said on Saturday morning.

“Well, of course you did. What of it?” asked John with a laugh.

“You don’t understand, John. I did it in my sleep!”

“Wow! That’s great! You are getting to be a real diaper boy!”

“Yeah!” I said. Just thinking about it was making me really hard.

“Uh, John, are you well enough to—you know?”

“To hump my favorite diaper boy? Sure! Nothing could keep me from that!”

He got on top of me and began moving his hips against me. Then he stopped. He reached down and unpinned my diaper and slid it down to my knees. Then he did the same to his diaper.

“I want to be a little closer to you this morning,” John said.

Soon we were moving against each other with a passion that we had never had before. We both came, and then we embraced each other. John kissed me.

“You mean so much to me, Brian. “

“Same to you, John. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you.”

We put our diapers back on and went down to breakfast. Mrs. Olson and Sue had made a feast for everybody. We had bacon, eggs, pancakes, and cornbread. On top of the pan of cornbread they had used pieces of bacon to spell, “Welcome Home, John!”

The whole weekend was a big celebration! We played games in the yard, went out for hot dogs and ice cream, and rented three movies! We did have to catch up on our homework on Sunday, but John and I were so happy to be together that we even enjoyed that!

On Sunday night after dinner, I went home. I had been in diapers full time for almost three entire days. That night, I wet my bed.

“Um, Mom, I had a little accident in my bed last night,” I said, hanging my head.

“Oh, dear. Did you wet your bed?”

“Yes, I did,” I said.

She looked me in the eye and asked,” Brian, have you been wearing diapers at John’s house?”

“Yes, Mom,” I answered truthfully.

She thought for a minute and then said, “Well, I know that you want to be like John and his brothers, so I guess that it is natural for you to want to wear diapers with them. I don’t know about letting you wear diapers to school, but would you like to wear diapers the rest of the time like John?”

“Can I?” I asked incredulously.

“Well, I will talk to your father about it and if he agrees, then you may wear diapers. ”

“Gee, Mom! You’re great!” I said.

My father took a little convincing, but in the end, he understood that I wanted to be like my friends, and he agreed that wearing diapers was, after all, a harmless “sport.”

I could hardly wait to tell John and the other Olson’s!