Every time I see a kid in diapers, I remember what happened to me the summer I was 14.

I had just found out how good things could be between my legs. I got caught by my mother. Mom blew up. Finally she yelled that she was going to send me to live with Grandma for the summer.

I was so upset about how she had surprised me, I was more concerned about being made to spend the summer with Grandma. But as I got to thinking about it I realized I was in more trouble than I realized.

Grandma was nice but also very prim, proper and strict. She always bugged me. It was easy enough to get along with her when we went to visit but a whole summer of that? The more I thought about it the less I liked it.

I tried to talk Mom out of her plan but she wouldn't even hear me out. She said that she had explained the whole thing to Grandma and that Grandma was very concerned about me and wanted to help out. When Mom said that Grandma had already started to shop for me I got real nervous.

As usual, Mom made me dress up for the train ride. I had to wear a pink cotton dress, white socks and my black patent mary-janes. I almost never wore dresses. So far Mom had me wear those things only on special occasions or when I was bad. The dress she picked was a little too small so I was always having to be careful how I sat or bent down. I hated the outfit but I knew by then that complaining about it would only make things worse. I felt a lot younger than 14 as I took my seat and waved good bye to Mom.

Before she put me on the train Mom warned me that she supported Grandma all the way and not to come crying to her if I didn't like my summer vacation. That made me wonder what she meant and by the time I got to Grandma's town I had a headache from worrying about it.

Grandma met me with a pleasant smile but I could tell that behind it lay her determined look. In the car on the way home she started talking about if I was going to dress like a girls had I should act like one. She made me agree with her even though I didn't know what she was talking about. I only knew that I wasn't going to like what was surely about to happen. I started to ask what she meant but she just ignored my questions by changing the subject slightly. She was bold enough to ask just how far I had got before Mom found me.

When we got to her big old house, Grandma took me to what would be my room for the summer. I got a shock when I discovered that there was an old- fashioned metal baby crib in the corner. In addition to the baby crib, an a old dresser, there was also a big white dresser that looked brand new. At first I just guessed that the baby crib and dresser were for some of my younger cousins who lived in the same town and maybe slept overnight.

Grandma told me to put my things in the dresser and not to go into the white dresser at all. Of course, being told not to do something just made me want to do it all the more so I was crazy with curiosity by the time I had unpacked.

Guessing I still had some time before Grandma came looking for me I went over to the crib and the dresser. The crib seemed a little bigger than normal. Maybe they made them bigger in the old days. This one had white enamel bars and a new white rubber mattress cover. I noticed that something seemed to be hanging down between the crib and the wall so I had a look.

At first I couldn't figure out what all the canvass straps were for then I noticed that they were sewn in a grid pattern. When I saw the metal clasps on the ends of some of the straps I figured it out: the canvass straps formed a webbed top that could be locked. I started to wonder why anyone would want to be able to lock a crib but then the white dresser caught my attention. Maybe it held the answer.

I listened for the sound of Grandma coming and instead heard her banging some pots in the kitchen. Since she would be busy there for at least a few seconds I decided to have a peak. After easing the first drawer out very gently I discovered it contained baby powder, vaseline, diaper pins, baby wipes - all the stuff you would need to take care of a baby. 'So what', I thought, there was still nothing to make Grandma tell me not to look there.

The next drawer was full of baby disposable diapers. Again, that was no reason for Grandma to order me to stay out of the dresser.

I hit pay dirt on the third drawer. It was full of plastic panties. I didn't notice anything strange at first and I had started to close the drawer when it hit me: these panties were far too big for a little baby or even a toddler. With trembling fingers I held a pair up to my waist and discovered they were plenty big enough to fit me. My throat got dry as I put them back carefully, leaving them just as I had found them. A suspicion was forming in the back of my mind but I just couldn't accept it yet.

I opened the fourth drawer. I didn't need to pick up one of the cloth diapers to know that they were huge - many times bigger than a baby would need.

Suddenly I remembered Mom and Grandma talking about taking a gift away if it was abused. I ran my fingers across the fluffy soft cloth as I tried to believe what seemed to be unbelievable. Was Grandma going to make me wear diapers?

My throat got dry as I thought about it. I began to fit the clues together. Mom and Grandma had discussed this. It had probably been Grandma's idea. I remembered her remarking crossly, after my little brother had wet himself accidentally, that the best cure for wetting was a set of diapers worn all day.

Mother had disagreed then but she maybe she had changed her mind. She had been pretty mad about catching me.

I sat down on a chair and stared at the partly open drawer of diapers. Suddenly I remembered the straps on the crib and looked at it again. Yes, it was just big enough for me, especially if I curled up a little.

Just then I looked up to see Grandma standing in the door. I expected her to be mad because I had disobeyed her but instead she had a strange look on her face. She came into the room and said it was just as well that I had looked since I was about to find out all about it anyway.

She started to talk about what I had been doing when Mom caught me. She gave me a long speech how it was improper to have "hot pants". Just as she was finishing she reached over and started to undo the buttons on the back of my dress.

I knew by then that she was going to make me wear diapers but I felt powerless to stop her. I felt hypnotised by her authority so I sat there and let her strip me down to my panties. She even took off my socks and shoes.

I guess it was the sight of the cloth diapers being spread out on the bed that snapped me out of it. I started to cry and plead with her, promising to be good, promising anything if only she wouldn't make me wear the diapers. I even hugged her around the waist as she fluffed out the plastic panties, begging her not to put me into diapers.

She didn't even acknowledge my protests until there was a big stack of diapers, a can of powder, four pins and a pair of plastic panties arranged neatly on the crib - waiting for me. Only then did she turn and give me a lecture about how it was too late for promises and pleading. She said I could show her how mature I was by calming down and accepting my punishment.

When I didn't stop crying she lowered the side fo the crib, clanging of the metal bars scared me into silence. Grandma pointed to the diapers I sullenly went to the crib and laid down on top of the diapers.

I was still wearing my panties and it terrified me when Grandma pulled them off. Now I was totally naked, lying on the diapers, with Grandma between my legs. I looked down at the hard I had between my thighs and blushed. It had been a long time since anyone had seen me naked.

Grandma just smiled and picked up the can of baby powder. She spread powder all over the area that would be covered by the diapers, both front and rear. Then she gently pushed my knees further apart and pulled the diapers up between my legs.

I felt like the big cloth pads were swallowing me. Grandma pulled the diapers tight before she started pinning them and I had to hold my legs even wider apart. It was a very strange feeling -I suppose that I had some distant memory of having been changed when a toddler. Once she had put one pin on each side at the waist she put a second pin in but lower down, near my hip. I discovered this made the diapers a lot tighter but I dared not complain because the crib was there, ready and waiting for me and I didn't want her to lock me inside it all ready.

When she was satisfied with the fit of the diapers she put my ankles through the leg holes in the pink plastic rumba panties and started to work them up my legs. The elastic around the waist and leg openings of the panties felt scratchy on my skin. She helped me stand up. It was then that I noticed how thick the diapers were and how they made me keep my legs apart more than usual. I stood stock still, mesmerized by the strange feelings of being in diapers, while she pulled the plastic panties up, over the diapers, and into place. She circled me, tucking in bits of cloth here and there, making sure that all of the diapers were captured inside the plastic panties.

I took one step and started to cry all over again. The diapers felt thick and babyish. I hated them and I hated Grandma for making me wear them but I couldn't say those things so I just stood there and bawled my eyes out. Grandma ignored my tears. She just slipped my dress over my head, pulled it into place and started doing up the buttons. When she was finished she took me by the arm and led me over to the full-length mirror and made me stand sideways so I could see how my dress was too short to cover the rows of fake lace that had been sewn into the seat of the pink rumba plastic panties. I will always remember her words:

"See, Barbara, how your diapers and plastic panties show beneath your dress? This is how a baby girl is dressed and this is how you will spend the summer if you do exactly as you are told and generally stay out of trouble."

"BARBARA my name is Bill Grandma". She said "that for the summer I would be Barbara or Barbie". Or did I want to be called Bill dressed in diapers rumba panties and a dress.

She then softened her tone and invited me to come down to the kitchen with her for a glass of lemonade. I tried to stop crying as she led me along by the hand. It was hard to walk with the thick diapers bunched between my thighs and the elastic of the plastic panties rubbing against my skin. I could hear the plastic crackle each time I moved and I could sense the hem of the back of my dress riding too high, showing the world my shame. I justed hoped she would not take me out dressed like this.

There was something else I noticed. The smooth, soft cloth, coated with baby powder, was teasing my dick. That, more than anything Grandma did or said, helped me to quiet down. It felt good and I was terrified she would guess it aroused me. I was blushing furiously by the time we got to the kitchen. Fortunately Grandma thought it was shame and embarrassment from being put into diapers.

Grandma had me sit at one of the kitchen chairs. While she poured me a big glass of lemonade I tried get used to the strange feeling of sitting down in such thick underwear! She pointed out that I was diapered an allowed to sit only on chairs that had vinyl seats. After she sat down she went over the rules I was to live by for the summer.

She explained that the diapers were meant to prevent me from touching myself. She put me in diapers I would not allowed to touch them or the plastic panties for any reason, the toilet would be off-limits and I was to tell her when I needed to have a BM. She explained that she had disposable diapers big enough for me and that she would change me into a disposable before I had the BM.

I didn't like the sound of that at all. Right now the diapers were thick and comfy, if not a little warm because of the plastic panties. But the thought of actually having to use the diapers hadn't really occurred to me. I suddenly realized that Grandma had more in mind than just making me wear funny clothes to humiliate me - I was expect to actually depend on the diapers.

A shiver ran down my spine. It had been a long time since I wet my pants and I didn't want to find out what it felt like. I didn't feel so comfy any more. Now I felt trapped. I wanted to run away and take the diapers off but I knew Grandma would stop me.

She got very serious when she mentioned me putting my hands inside my diapers. She had a real bee in her bonnet about masturbation so I resolved right then and there to be very careful about not getting caught. I listened to her rules about needing permission to go anywhere without her, bed-time and all that stuff but I was already trying to figure out a way I could avoid having to use the diapers. The thought obsessed me so much that Grandma thought I was day-dreaming and told me to pay more attention.

She pointed to a baby-theme calendar on the kitchen wall and told me it was my punishment calendar. Whenever I did something wrong Grandma would put a "D" on however many number of days she thought I needed to wear diapers for to learn to behave. If she put a "C" on a day it meant I had to sleep in the crib that night and if she put an "S" on a day it meant I got a spanking - one stroke for each day since I had arrived (today was day 1).

My head was spinning from all the rules and threats of punishment but the next thing Grandma said sent a wave of fear rushing through me. She warned me that whenever someone asked why I was wearing diapers I had to tell them the truth.

I gulped and asked her what "the truth" meant.

She told me that I was to say that I had been caught playing around and had been put back into diapers as a reminder to behave like a proper young girl.

I felt my face flush hot with the thought of it. I was sure I couldn't bring myself to do that but I didn't say anything to Grandma. There were no marks on the calendar. Maybe that meant she would take the diapers off soon. If I was really careful I might not ever have to wear diapers or explain them to a stranger. I began to understand Grandma's system. I hadn't even been there a day and she had already found the one thing that was sure to control me. I trembled at the thought of being seen in diapers.

As if she was reading my mind, Grandma then announced that she was taking me to the shopping mall - now.

I began to sob, beg and cry all over again. I remember feeling the hot tears stream down my face even as I realised my diapers were getting more uncomfortable by the minute (hot and itchy) from my perspiration and, worse, I was going to need a bathroom soon. Grandma listened to me for about two minutes and then went over to the calendar. She put a "D" in each of the next five days and a "C" in today's box. The she told me I had exactly one minute to go upstairs and put my sandals on or she would add a lot more "C"s to the calendar.

It was all the encouragement I needed. I didn't stop to think that I had just earned five days in diapers or that I was going to have to sleep in the crib that night, I just knew that I didn't want to do anything to get into more trouble. I listened to the rustle of my dress against my plastic panties as I quick- waddled up the stairs.

By the time I found my sandals and put them on and got back downstairs I was only sniffling. Grandma made me blow my nose before she took me out to her car.

I wanted to run to the car so no one would see how I was dressed in but Grandma held my hand tightly and took her time.

There weren't many people on the street so I guessed I hadn't been noticed. But the shopping mall would be different. People couldn't help but notice me. I almost started to cry again until Grandma noticed and warned me that there was room for lots more letters on the calendar.

I was sullen and quiet as we drove through town. I hated each stop light, each block for taking me closer to the mall. As it turned out we didn't go to a mall - at least not a first. We parked in front of a strange looking store that had wheel chairs and crutches on display in the window. It wasn't until we got inside that I understood that this was where Grandma had bought the over-sized diapers and plastic panties for me. There were racks of them. I stared hard. My throat went dry.

Grandma went to the order desk and told the clerk that she needed diapers big enough to fit her grand-daughter. I was caught off guard and felt my cheeks get hot while I stared at the floor, too embarrassed to look at the clerk.

The clerk was an older woman but still younger than Grandma.

I got the feeling she wasn't exactly surprised to see a 14 year old girl in diapers. Still, I found myself tugging the hem of my dress down in a futile attempt to hide my ballooning plastic panties.

The clerk asked in a kind and polite tone why I needed diapers and I almost fainted when Grandma told her the truth.

The clerk's attitude changed a lot. She made a comment that suggested she approved of the way I was being punished and then she led us over to where they kept the adult diapers.

I had to stand there, red-faced and ashamed while I listened to them discuss the various brands of diapers and how effective each one was for various kinds of incontinence. My need for a bathroom hadn't gone away only now a new feeling joined in my chorus of discomfort - I was going to have a BM.

Just as that thought crossed my mind I heard the clerk ask Grandma why she wanted disposable diapers for me. Grandma told her that the disposables were mostly for when I was going to have a BM. She didn't want to have to wash dirty cloth diapers. The clerk then recommended Attends in the junior size. She remarked that the Attends had a plastic inner lining that wasn't very comfortable for the patient but didn't break down either.

Grandma told her that "the comfort of the patient is not of primary concern in this case".

The clerk picked up two bags of the diapers at the same time I felt a spasm from deep inside me. My BM was coming faster than usual; maybe I had eaten something that didn't agree with me.

With my heart racing and my cheeks flushed I tugged at Grandma's sleeve and then whispered my request. I was going to have a BM very soon. Could I please have a disposable diaper? It felt very strange to have to ask for a diaper. The older woman didn't think it was so strange. Grandma looked inquiringly at the clerk who suggested that we use the ladies' bathroom in the rear of the store because there was an old couch there that would make things easier.

She led us back through the stacked boxes to an old, but clean washroom. Grandma made me hold up my dress while she pulled down my panties, unpinned the diapers and pulled them off me. I watched her fold them up and put them in the big purse she carried. Suddenly I could close my legs again, there was no moist, itchy heat between my legs and I felt normal. I looked down at the pink plastic panties bunched around my ankles and felt sad. It wasn't going to last. There were 5 "D"s on the calendar and that meant it was going to be 5 more days before I would feel this way again. I noticed the clerk was spreading out an Attends on the couch.

The clerk took over, guiding me onto the disposable diaper and dusting me with powder. She explained that using powder was very important with Attends unless Grandma intended that I get very itchy very quickly. Grandma's face took on an interesting look and she said she would remember what the clerk had said.

The clerk pulled the diaper up between my legs and pinned it tightly. I could tell it was a lot thinner than the three cloth diapers I had been made to wear all afternoon. I flexed my legs a little and discovered I could close them normally. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

Just then I felt another reminder that I needed to pee and that there was a BM about to come out. Before anything else could happen, Grandma asked the clerk about double or triple diapering using the Attends. The clerk asked Grandma if she would like a demonstration and Grandma agreed. I felt disappointed.

The clerk took another Attends out of the package and made me lift my hips so she could slide the diaper under me. I heard her explain to Grandma that when double or triple diapering with attends it was important to puncture or slit the plastic backing of the inner diapers to allow maximum absorbency. She then took a pair of medical scissors from her lab coat and used them to cut the shell of the diaper I was wearing. Then she pulled the second diaper into place, taped it snugly and asked Grandma if she wanted a third diaper added.

Grandma said that two would be enough this time. The clerk helped me to my feet and then pulled my plastic panties up.

There was less bulk with the two Attends and so the panties were looser. Even still, there was enough padding between my legs to make me keep them spread. I would still walk funny and I could tell that my dress still rode high enough to display my secret to anyone who looked.

Standing up made my need "to go" all that worse and I clenched my thighs to try and hold it back. The two women commented that my diapers would soon be put to good use. I was afraid they were going to just stand there and wait for me to wet and mess but then the clerk asked Grandma how she meant to stop me from taking off my diapers, using the toilet and putting them back on again. Of course, that meant I would have a chance to touch myself. When Grandma replied that she didn't have that problem solved completely, other than keeping an eye on me, the clerk said she had some ideas and asked Grandma to follow her.

Grandma agreed and told me to stay in the bathroom until I had done my business, just in case the diapers leaked.

Another spasm hit just as they left the bathroom. I was standing there with my legs clenched tight trying to resist the urge to put my hand between my legs. I didn't want to wet and mess my diapers. I was terrified of what it would feel like and besides, I was too old to need diapers.

Suddenly I remembered what the clerk had said about taking off my diapers and using the toilet. Now my pulse raced for a different reason. Dare I try? Could I possibly get away with it? With my heart in my throat and constant, fearful glances at the still-open door I stepped in front of the toilet and peeled down my plastic panties. I was about to release the tapes of the outer diaper when I realized that the diapers might be loose enough to push down, like a pair of panties. It took some wriggling but it worked. As soon as the diapers were down to my knees I sat on the toilet and concentrated on letting go. After holding it for so long it seemed to take some time to relax the muscles.

I was staring at the floor, concentrating on pushing out the first big piece of poo when I suddenly felt someone's hand at the back of my neck, pushing me off the toilet. I was propelled forward, almost hitting the wall. When I looked up I saw that the clerk had come back. Her white nurse's shoes were too quiet to warn me. Grandma was standing behind her looking very cross.

No one said anything until the clerk told Grandma that I hadn't had time to do anything in the toilet but that "some material was part-way out of her". It was true. I could feel the hard log holding my little bum hole open. I prayed it wouldn't end up on the floor.

Grandma was furious but the news that she and the clerk had returned in time to stop me brought a smile to her face. She pointed silently to the couch and I waddled over, the diapers and panties around my feet made a swishing sound on the floor. It felt scary to walk with the poo half out of me.

As the clerk began to replace my diapers I started to cry.

I had to "go" so badly and I had almost gotten away with not having to wet and mess. I was shaken up and ashamed and afraid of the diapers all at the same time. This time the clerk made sure the diapers were taped very snugly. She even went out to the stock room to get some packing tape to reinforce the diaper tapes.

Once my plastic panties were in place again the clerk remarked to Grandma that maybe it was time to put some of their ideas to work. Grandma agreed, passed something to the clerk and then each woman took one of my wrists.

Before I knew what was happening they were fitting strange-looking mittens onto my hands. They didn't have thumbs and the interior was very smooth and slippery. The outside seemed to be made of some kind of nylon and it was slippery too.

There were small buckles at the wrist of each mitten and once these were fastened they dropped my hands.

I held out my hands and stared at these strange things. The clerk told me to try and release the buckles. I knew it was a trick but I still did it. It was then I discovered that the slippery inner and outer linings stopped me from being able to use my hands for anything. I couldn't grasp or hold anything. I felt again how tightly the clerk had taped my diapers. There was nothing I could do about it now even if they left me alone for hours. Just as the first tears trickled down from the corner of my eyes, I felt a little warm rush between my legs.

"Oh. No!" I heard myself say as I stared at my waist. The trickle quickly became a torrent. Resigned to the fact that I had lost control I instinctively parted my legs a little more and gasped with relief while my bladder emptied. I felt the hot pee flood into the diaper and the absorbent padding soak it up. The progression of sensation between wet and dry was strange and I felt mesmerized by it. I could feel the progress of the pee as it travelled throughout the diaper.

Just then I felt another wave of pressure from my rear passage and suddenly knew I would not be able to resist it. No matter how much I didn't want to, I felt my self start to mess my diapers. I was so surprised that, later, Grandma said I stood there with a far-away look on my face with my mouth hanging open.

She said it reminded her of when she was toilet training my mother.

I felt the poo escape from me and meet the resistance of the tight diaper. This made it spread and although the sense of relief was wonderful, the feelings from my diaper made me feel sick to my stomach.

By the time it was over I was breathing heavily. My cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and my diaper felt so wet and dirty that I was afraid to move.

There was a long pause when nobody knew what to say. Then the clerk asked Grandma if she wanted me to be changed before they left the store. I hoped against hope that Grandma would agree. I gave her my most pleading look but held my tongue.

Grandma looked me up and down, as if she was weighing her decision. Their conversation still rings in my ears.

Grandma said "Does she need to be changed. I mean, will the diapers leak or let the mess out if she walks or sits down? I have my car to think about." "No. Not really. The new Attends have mess protector bands like the baby disposables. She is double-diapered, so that will take care of any more urine and the plastic pants are big enough to cover the leg openings if anything does escape. No, you don't need to change her but she is going to be one sorry young lady in a couple of hours if you don't." "Why?" Grandma asked sincerely.

"Because the Attends were developed to be worn without plastic pants. That's why there is tight elastic at the waist and leg openings. The designers allowed for air circulation by the way the diaper is taped. When you put plastic panties over an Attends it gets pretty hot and itchy pretty fast. One of my customers called it a private sauna from hell." Grandma just smiled, thanked the lady for her advice and escorted me from the room. As soon as I took my first step I knew it was going to be a long afternoon. I could feel the luke-warm mush in the seat of my diaper shift with every movement of my body. My diapers were also much heavier and made more noise when I walked. I realised too that the clerk was right. My plastic panties had been in place only a few minutes and yet already I could feel the heat building. By then I was out of tears. I just sniffled and stared at the floor a lot as we went to the cash to pay for my new diapers.

On the way back to the car I was too miserable to worry about people seeing my plastic panties. I wasn't looking forward to having to sit down in my messy pants and I was trying to decide whether or not to plead with Grandma to take me back to the store for a diaper change. I looked at the determined look on Grandma's face and decided not to risk making her more angry.

When we got to the car Grandma wouldn't let me get in until she had spread out a plastic bag on my seat. The car was very hot from the sun and the bag stuck to my thighs as soon as I sat down. I didn't think about the bag very much though, because sitting down also made my poo spread out, covering my bottom. I almost gagged at the thought of it but Grandma ignored me.

I didn't know where we were going and I didn't care. I could smell my dirty diapers and already I was hot and itchy inside them. When I saw that Grandma had turned her head to make a lane change I tried to scratch through the diapers but the mittens and the thick padding prevented me from getting any relief.

I knew things were about to get worse for me when Grandma pulled into a shopping mall. I had forgotten about the promised shopping trip. Before, I had been afraid of people seeing me in diapers, now I had a lot more to be scared of. I was wet and messy and I was sure that anyone who got close to me would be able to tell right away.

There wasn't a lot I could do about it. I was sure that Grandma was going to punish me for taking off my diapers in the medical store. She hadn't said a word in the car and that meant she was still mad. I thought about the calendar in the kitchen and all the "D"s that were on it after just a few hours. If I said anything else to Grandma I might make her angry and things would just get worse. So I got out of the car very carefully, peeled the plastic bag off the back of my thighs and let Grandma take my arm to lead me into the shopping mall.

As soon as we got inside the mall I knew that my worst nightmare had come true. People walking toward us started to stare as soon as they saw my plastic panties poking out from underneath the hem of my dress. When they saw the mittens on my hands they stared harder. My face was a permanent shade of crimson but Grandma pretended not to notice the attention we were getting.

The worst times were when someone overtook us from behind because we were walking so slowly. They would find excuses to look back and get a good look at me. I shuddered to think that the smells from my diaper would be worse behind me than anywhere else. With every step I took the poo shifted a little, reminding me how dirty I was. The diapers also seemed to have become very heavy. They sagged down between my legs more than I remembered and that made them all the more visible. If anyone didn't actually see that I was wearing diapers and plastic panties then the sounds they made as I walked would tip them off.

Grandma took us to a department store and headed for the teen's section. I didn't want anyone to get close to me so I gripped Grandma's hand a little tighter, trying to tell her that I was afraid. Of course, if Grandma understood the signal she chose to ignore it. I had yet to learn that Grandma thought it was a good thing to embarrass me.

A young sales girl approached us. Grandma told her that we needed several pairs of shorts for me. As if the girl didn't already know, Grandma reminded her that I was in diapers and the shorts would have to be large enough to fit over them. The girl looked at me again. She was only a few years older than me and I could tell she was feeling sorry for me. I could also tell she wanted to know why I was in diapers but was too shy to ask.

She suggested we go to the ladies' section where there were larger sizes. On the way, Grandma answered the question. She told the girl that I had burned my hands recently and that the mittens were bandage covers. Since I couldn't help myself in the bathroom it had been necessary to put diapers on me. The girl gave a polite reply but I could tell she was still very curious and wasn't really convinced.

The girl showed Grandma a pair of baggy Bermuda shorts that looked like they could cover all of my diapers. Grandma told her that she wanted a more traditional style of shorts for me. When the girl held up a very brief pair that would definitely show at least my plastic panties Grandma nodded and the girl held them to my waist to see if they would fit.

As she stretched them around the bulge of my diapers I saw her nose wrinkle. She looked at me strangely and then asked Grandma if there was a possibility that I might have messed myself. After Grandma nodded the girl said quietly that I wouldn't be allowed to try on any clothes until after I had been changed.

Grandma thanked her for her time and said we would return in a few minutes. She took me by the hand again and led me to the women's washroom. I was scared of what might happen and I had forgotten that my cloth diapers were in Grandma's purse.

There was a couch in the washroom and a couple of ladies were there touching up their make-up. Grandma told me to lie down on the couch to have my diapers changed. At the mention of the word "diapers" both women turned and stared at me. By this time my diapers were really sagging and they could tell at a glance that this 14 year old girl was in diapers and plastic panties. I blushed hard under their gaze and looked away.

Slowly I sat down on the couch, not wanting to lie down because then all of my diapers would be in plain view.

Grandma came back carrying a few paper towels, some of which were wet. Without saying a word and acting as if I were a toddler she pushed me back on the couch, pushed up my dress, peeled my plastic panties down to my ankles and started to release the tapes of the diapers. The two women looked on in shocked amazement.

Before she removed the Attends, Grandma spread out the cloth diapers I had been wearing earlier and slid them under me. Then she told me to lift my hips and keep them up while she cleaned me up a little. I felt the Attends being pulled away and then Grandma used a wet but clean part of one of the diapers to wipe my bottom. Reminding me to keep my hips up she took the Attends across the room and after rolling them up and sealing them with their tapes, put the diapers in the garbage bin. She returned and used the paper towels to clean up the rest of the mess on my bottom before telling me I could lower my hips.

She pinned the cloth diapers very tightly, using four pins, just like she had the first time. Then she had me stand up while she pulled my plastic panties into place. The women had silently stared at us through all of my diaper c I was also glad to be free of the wet and dirty disposable diapers. They had become so hot, itchy and uncomfortable that I couldn't think of anything else. The cloth diapers were thicker and it was harder to walk in them but I was clean and more comfortable. I now knew when I was well off. We went back to the sportswear section and found the same clerk.

An hour later I had two casual summer dresses and four pairs of shorts. Despite the clerk's concern that all of them exposed my diapers Grandma had gotten her way. The worst part of the whole experience had been when Grandma wouldn't let me use a change room. She said that she had to help me and there wasn't room for two of us in the small stalls. So she made me try on the shorts and dresses right there in the middle of the store, with my diapers in full view of everyone.

By then I was sure that there could be nothing worse than what had already happened. It seemed like the whole world knew I was in diapers. I had almost gotten used to being stared at.

Then Grandma took me to the baby department and told me to pick out a diaper bag for myself. I wanted to ask why but I soon had it figured out for myself. It would be twice as humiliating to have to carry a diaper bag while obviously wearing diapers.

I tried to find a plain one but it was hopeless. I stood in front of the rack of diaper bags and stared. All of them had big baby motifs and the word "Diapers" in big letters. Finally Grandma stepped forward and picked out one in bright pink, handed me some money and told me to go pay for it. Because of the mittens I had to be very careful about holding the bag and the money.

I listened to the crackle of my plastic panties as I walked toward the group of sales clerks at the cash. They began to stare, especially when they compared what I was wearing to what I was carrying. By the time I got there my cheeks were red hot again and my hands were trembling.

The clerk gave me a sympathetic look as she rang in the sale and started to put the diaper bag in a sack. Then she looked at my hands. I could see the question in her eyes but she only asked if it would be easier for me if she put the strap of the bag over my shoulder for me. I nodded and she came around to help me. She even attached the cash receipt to a tag on the bag so store security wouldn't bother me. Grandma was standing at the end of an aisle watching it all and smiling.

By then my cheeks felt like they would be flushed red for the rest of my life. I was really wrung out from being embarrassed and humiliated. I still didn't want to risk talking to Grandma so I just hoped that as she led me out of the store and back into the mall that we were heading back to the car.

But that wasn't her plan. She took me to a lunch counter and ordered an extra large coke for me. I didn't want it, even though I was thirsty, because I guessed that she wanted me to wet my diapers and I hated the thought of having to do that. I was dry and as comfortable as I could be, wearing plastic panties and all, and I didn't want to be wet or messy again. She made small talk with me about how nice my dresses and shorts would look on me. She didn't mention the fact that I was in diapers or that I was going to be punished some more when we got home. I knew she wouldn't forget what had happened at the medical store.

For the rest of the afternoon I had to follow her from store to store as she shopped for herself. I soon had to pee very badly and although I tried my best to hold it in I had to wet my diapers twice before she finally led me out to the car to go home. By then the plastic panties (which I had come to hate with a passion) had made my diapers hot and humid. The pee made them heavy and I noticed that I was much more aware of how wet I was when I was wearing cloth diapers. As I got onto the plastic bag on the seat of the car, Grandma asked me how wet I was. I gave her a one-word answer, "soaked". It was the first word I had said to her in many hours.

By the time we got home it was time for dinner. Grandma took me and our parcels upstairs and changed me into two of the Attends diapers. She spoke baby-talk to me and pretended I was a little toddler who had to wear diapers. I knew enough by then that these were less comfortable than the cloth diapers but I didn't complain. She had yet to tell me what my punishment would be for trying to take my diapers off. At dinner she took the mittens off my hands so I could eat. Again she made small talk but I was just concerned about the 5 "D"s on the calendar and what would be added.

Finally, over dessert, she raised the subject of what had happened in the medical store. "You were very naughty this afternoon," she said as she sipped her coffee.

"Yes, Grandma, I was bad. But I'll be good from now on, you'll see. I promise I'll never do that again." "How do you think you should be punished? You are already confined to diapers for the next five days." I hated her for asking that question. It invited me to define my own punishment. I just sat there silently until it was obvious she wouldn't continue until I gave her some kind of answer. "I dunno." was all I could think of to say.

"Well then, let me give you a choice. Would you rather be very uncomfortable for a short period of time or just a little uncomfortable for a long period of time?" How was I supposed to answer that? I wanted to run away from her, tear off the diapers and be normal again but I knew that my mother supported Grandma. I thought about it for a few seconds and then made my decision. "A short time." "It's agreed then. I'm going to put you to bed right now.

You've had a long day and I don't think you'll be going to sleep very early." She got up from the table and looked at the calendar. She picked up a pencil and put an "C" on the next two day's squares. I breathed a sigh of relief. Sleeping in the crib for two more nights didn't seem so bad a punishment.

She saw my expression and commented, "Don't look so relieved. The next two days are for good measure. I have more in mind for you than just sleeping in the crib." I wanted to protest that three days was a long time for a "short period" but I held my tongue. I was in enough trouble already.

She took me upstairs and helped me undress. My diapers were still dry (although getting hotter and itchier by the minute) so I was surprised when she laid me back on the bed, pulled down my plastic panties and began to release the tapes of the diapers.

Maybe she was going to change me into cloth? I didn't know what was happening so I shut up and let her do what she wanted.

When the diapers had been released and folded back she went to the white dresser and took something small from one of the drawers. It was a little foil package shaped like a bullet. I watched her unwrap it. Then she took my hand and put a little, round plug of what looked like wax in my palm.

She stood back with a look of triumph on her face. "Do you know what that is?" I shook my head. "It's called a suppository. It will make you move your bowels. I want you to put it in your bum." Suddenly I understood what she had meant by short term discomfort. I had been miserable when I was in wet and messy diapers. Now she wanted me to have to sleep in them. The worst part was that she wanted me to put the damned thing in my bottom myself. I thought of a hundred things to say to her, a thousand protests about how this wasn't fair. But the still itchy diaper under me reminded me that she had control and that I could still make things worse for myself.

I bit my tongue and tried to do as she wanted. I had never put anything up my bottom before and it was hard to do it with her watching. I reached between my legs and did it by feel. As my fingers touched my little rosebud I realized I was still pretty dirty back there from having messed earlier in the afternoon. The little bullet slipped in and I wiped my fingers on the exposed diaper. I felt dirty, ashamed and full of dread and what was about to happen to me.

She refastened my diapers, snugly, and pulled up my plastic panties before sending me waddling off to the bath room to brush my teeth and wash my hands. By the time I returned to the bedroom she had fetched the mittens from the kitchen. I gulped when I saw the metal barred cage lying ready for me. It seemed so small. Suddenly I was very aware of the thick diapers between my legs and the slight burning in my poop chute. Before I could think about it I was pleading for leniency. "Please don't make me sleep there, Grandma. I'm being punished enough. I'll be good, you'll see. I promise I'll be good!" She didn't even answer, she just smiled and pointed to the crib. After a few seconds she said, "You made your choice, Barbara, now it's time to accept it." Sadly, I climbed into the crib and held out my hands for the mittens she presented. I already knew that they would make me helpless and I hated her for that. After the buckles were secure she raised the side of the crib with a loud clang, pulled the canvass webbed top into place and began to fasten the straps with the little turn-keys provided. There were no locks. Without the mittens I could have escaped easily. But the mittens were in place and even so, where would I escape to? She said she would get a bottle for me and disappeared. It was then that I noticed the intensity of the burning in my bowels. I knew then it was only a matter of time before I had to mess these nice clean diapers and then sleep in them. I started to cry.

She brought me a large baby bottle full of apple juice and after passing it to me through the bars, sat on the bed to watch me while I drank it. She took the empty bottle away and wished me a good night. After the door closed I realized it was not even dark out. As I waited for the load of poo to arrive I started to cry. I wouldn't have let that boy into my pants if I had known that this could happen to me.