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Author Topic: Grandma's Way Author unknown  (Read 28149 times)

Kita Sparkles

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Grandma's Way Author unknown
« on: May 26, 2011, 04:01:02 pm »

Grandma's Way

Every time I see a kid in diapers who seems too old to be
wearing baby things I remember what happened to me the summer I
was 14.

I guess you could say I was "boy-crazy". I had just found
out how good things could be between my legs. Masturbation and
the wickedly wonderful feelings I got when a boy felt me up had
become the focus of my life. Anyway, I got caught by my mother
while I was making out with a boy. My panties were down and my
dress and temperature were sky high.

Mom blew up. She kicked my boyfriend out and tore into me
like it was the end of the world. Finally she yelled that she
was going to send me to live with Grandma for the summer so I
could learn to appreciate "the gift of being a woman".

I was so upset about how she had surprised us and treated my
boyfriend that at first I was more concerned about being made to
break up with my boyfriend than having 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 about my dresses being too short and not wearing
a bra. 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 and when I did I liked
something sexy with nice nylons. So far Mom had let me wear
those things only on very special occasions. 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 how girls had a "gift" that shouldn't
be just thrown away or abused. Then she went on to say that
whenever somebody abuses a gift it should be taken away from them
for a while. 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 by 'taking the gift away' but she just ignored my
questions by changing the subject slightly. She was bold enough
to ask just how far my boyfriend and I had got before Mom found
us.

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,
opposite the normal youth bed I had expected to see. In addition
to the old dresser I was used to 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 old 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 with the boy.

I sat down on the edge of the bed 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 came and sat on the bed next to me and started to talk
about what I had been doing with the boy when Mom caught us. She
gave me a long speech about the sanctity of womanhood and how it
was improper for a girl to have "hot pants". Just as she was
finishing she reached over and started to undo the buttons on the
front 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 back 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 bed - 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 like a
lady.

When I didn't stop crying she pointed to the crib and told
me that the crib was where bad little girls were sent, in
diapers, and had to stay until they behaved. To make her point
she crossed to the crib and lowered the side. The clanging of
the metal bars scared me into silence. After Grandma pointed to
the diapers I sullenly got onto the bed and laid down on top of
them.

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
curly hair 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.

When she was satisfied with the fit of the diapers she put
my ankles through the leg holes in the plastic 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
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 not do exactly as you
are told and generally stay out of trouble."

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.

There was something else I noticed. The smooth, soft cloth,
coated with baby powder, was teasing my nether lips. 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 back 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 when I was diapered I was 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 (or anybody else touching me down there, for that
matter). Whenever 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 change and I was really
glad to be able to get out of there.

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.

Chapter Two


I woke up very early the next morning because my wet and
messy diapers were so uncomfortable. I remembered how ashamed I
felt as I had filled them with uncontrollable bursts of hot mush.
Then my water had given way, as if it had a mind of its own, and
I was soaked. I had cried myself to sleep.

The thought of having to spend two more nights in the crib
made me anxious. I was hot from wearing the plastic panties and
from lying on the rubber mattress cover. I itched where my skin
was sweaty but I couldn't scratch because of the mittens. I was
also feeling very stiff and cramped because I had to fold my legs
in order to fit into the crib.

As I tossed and turned, as much as the crib would allow, I
was shocked to discover something. The warm, wet padding of the
diaper rubbed against my nether lips in a very pleasant manner.
I began to experiment with positions and I finally found that if
I laid on my back with my knees flexed the crotch of the diapers
got tighter and I could make the nice rubbing happen just by
flexing my legs together.

Pretty soon I was pressing my thighs together furiously and
a delicious orgasm was building. When I came I had to bite my
tongue to stop myself from crying out. I knew my face was hot
and flushed from excitement and I prayed that Grandma wouldn't
come in and guess that I had found pleasure even from wet and
messy diapers. Suddenly the idea of sleeping in diapers didn't
seem so bad.

Grandma was true to her word. She made me wear and use
diapers for the next five days and I had to spend the next two
nights in the crib. I guess I got used to it in a way because
Grandma treated me as if there was no question that I needed to
wear and use diapers. She even spoke nicely to me and began to
use more baby powder whenever it was time for me to have a BM.

We didn't go out anywhere during those days so I had
forgotten how embarrassing it was for me to be seen. She did
have some of her friends over to play bridge but after a brief
introduction I was allowed to play in my room. If the ladies
asked Grandma about my diapers I don't know what she told them.

If she had a short errand to run she would put the mittens
on me and strip me down to my bra, diapers and plastic panties.
I quickly realized she wanted me to be prevented from tampering
with my diapers. Being dressed only in the diapers and panties
meant I wasn't likely to wander outside.

The only reason these days were at all tolerable was the
delicious orgasm I treated myself to each morning. After I
started sleeping in the youth bed I found a lot more positions
that made the rubbing nice. I was always careful to be as quiet
as possible and to try and wake up a lot earlier than Grandma so
I would look normal when she came for me in the morning. (One of
the rules was that I had to stay in bed until she woke up and
came for me.)

That first night was the only night that Grandma
deliberately made me sleep in messy diapers. However she always
made sure that I had enough to drink before bed that I would have
to use my diapers either before I went to sleep or during the
night. She thought she was punishing me. I just dreamed of how
nice a wet diaper could be and did as I was told.

Finally the fifth day arrived. If nothing went wrong I
would be free of diapers that night. Much as I liked the
orgasms, they weren't enough to make me like diapers. I still
shuddered at the memory of what it was like to be stared at
because of my plastic panties. As I lay in the youth bed, the
sheets damp from my best orgasm yet, I wondered if I should risk
a second orgasm, just to tide me over until Grandma made me wear
diapers again.

The house seemed pretty quiet and I was sure it was still
pretty early, so I started the rhythmic squeezing again. I
closed my eyes and began to drift with the pleasure. I wanted to
rub my nipples but Grandma insisted that I sleep in an
old-fashioned, hard shell bra. Because it was my second time in
an hour it took longer for the climax to build. Still it was
wonderful. Finally I was bathed in wave after wave of pleasure.
Just as I opened my eyes I heard Grandma's bedroom door open and
her footsteps in the hall.

I knew it was too soon. I was still breathing heavily and my
face was sure to be red and flushed. I heard her pass my room
and go to the bathroom. I breathed a sigh of relief because
every second counted. I heard the toilet flush and her footsteps
approaching. I tried to take control of my breathing and think
of ordinary things to make my face go back to normal but I
doubted Grandma would be fooled.

She breezed in with a cheery greeting and then I watched her
face change as she picked up on the clues. She asked me if I was
sick and when I said I was fine she suddenly decided that I would
be changed right then and there instead of after breakfast.

She kept looking at me as she laid out a big stack of cloth
diapers and a fresh pair of plastic panties. I tried not to meet
her eyes because I was sure she could see the guilt in mine.

Normally she took my mittens off during this first diaper
change of the day. I wouldn't have to wear them again until bed
time unless she went out on an errand. I held up my wrists after
she helped me out of bed but she shook her head and said maybe
they had better be left in place for a few more minutes. By then
I was sure she was at least suspicious if she hadn't already
guessed I had learned to masturbate while in diapers.

She peeled down my wet panties and then made me spread my
legs while she worked at the pins of my soaked cloth diapers. As
soon as the diapers were loose she plunged her hand inside and
felt my nether lips. Then she withdrew her hand and sniffed at
her fingers.

I could see her mood darken. "You've been abusing yourself
again!" she accused. "How long has this been going on?"

I told her only this morning but she didn't believe me. She
pushed me down onto the waiting stack of diapers and began
muttering how I hadn't learned my lesson and that she would have
to take 'extra measures' to make sure I behaved myself. I was
plenty scared so I didn't say anything. One thing was for sure
though, I wouldn't be getting out of diapers that night after
all.

Grandma removed the mittens so I could eat breakfast. After
the meal she made two telephone calls. The first was to someone
named Norma who was asked if she would look after me today and
the second was to the clerk at the medical supply store. Grandma
was very frank with her and after Grandma listened for a while
she agreed to visit the store.

I was told to go get dressed in a pair of shorts and a
t-shirt. I moved as fast as my diapers would allow. All I knew
was that someone new was going to be taking care of me. I knew I
was in trouble - the question was, what would my punishment be?
I also wondered what Grandma would do to stop me from
masturbating. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely
fasten the buckles on my sandals.

Just as I finished, Grandma came into the room, took out the
pink diaper bag and began to stuff it full of cloth and
disposable diapers and a few pairs of plastic panties. She
hadn't said much to me since she discovered my secret. I wanted
to ask her what was going to happen but I was too scared. I even
wet myself, just thinking about it.

When she was ready she made a motion that I should follow
her. We went to the kitchen where she started filling baby
bottles with apple juice. I looked at the baby calendar and felt
a chill run through me. There was a "D" in every day for the
rest of the month and a "C" in every day for the next two weeks.
There were also four "S"'s, one on every Friday for the next
month. Today was also one of those Fridays.

After the baby bottles were ready Grandma put the mittens
back on my hands. Then she led me outside and next door.

Even standing on the porch I could tell that the people who
lived here were dirty. There were old Pampers boxes on the
veranda, some with used baby diapers inside them. As soon as the
door opened I got a whiff of dirty carpets, greasy food and dirty
diapers. I almost gagged.

One look at Norma, the mother, told me a lot. She was in
her mid-thirties, had greasy hair, wore dirty clothes and had an
exhausted look on her face. A little boy, about four years old,
clung to his mother's leg. His face was dirty and his hair was a
mess but what really caught my attention was that his only
clothing was a very wet Pampers diaper.

We went into the dirty and messy living room where there was
a play pen, a box of diapers and some other baby supplies strewn
about. The little boy began to complain about his wet diaper so
Norma put him into the play pen, made him sit down and handed him
a half-full bottle of juice.

With no further distractions, Grandma began to tell Norma
the truth about why I was wearing diapers and what the mittens
were for. I felt my face grow hot with shame at her graphic
descriptions and I wanted to crawl under the carpet when she told
this stranger why a babysitter was necessary today. Norma grunted
a lot, asked if we had brought any diapers for me and if there
were any special rules.

At this point, Grandma suggested they speak privately and so
the two women went to the door and dropped their voices to a
whisper. Then Grandma came part way back into the room, told me
I would be staying with Norma for the day and to be on my best
behaviour or there would be trouble about it for sure. Norma saw
Grandma out and then came back to the living room.

"Diapers as a punishment, huh?" she said with her hands on
her hips. "Gotten used to it yet?" I shook my head.

Norma then launched into a bit of a speech about how her
house was full of diapers. She told me she had a six year old
girl at school who needed night diapers, the four year old boy
wasn't completely toilet trained and giving birth to the baby
upstairs had damaged her bladder so she had to wear "protection"
most of the time.

She asked me if I was wet and I told her I had only peed a
little, at breakfast. Then she made me take off my shorts so she
could see. As soon as my shorts hit the floor she picked them up
and told me she would keep them until it was time for me to
leave. "We don't go much for clothes 'round here" she said, "best
ya got something to go home in." Then she asked me to take off
my shirt and when she saw the bra I had to take that off too.
When she saw the look of fear on my face at being almost naked
she laughed and said she would get me a shirt to wear.

She came back with a dirty t-shirt that smelled like she had
worn it for a couple of days. I didn't want it but if it was all
she was going to give me to wear I had no choice, so I put it on.

Then she made me stand up so she could get a good look at
what I was wearing. Before I knew it she was pulling down my
plastic pants and unpinning my diapers. I didn't know what was
happening until she said she hated cloth diapers because of all
the work of washing them and that if I had disposables she might
as well "get me into one" right away. I had to lie down on the
smelly carpet and let her get one of the Attends from my diaper
bag. She slid it under me and began to tape it closed until I
asked for some baby powder. She seemed irritated but she did
powder me before taping the diaper expertly. I stood up and
watched her handle my plastic panties. "I don't know how ya take
the heat," she commented, "but yer grandma wants ya in 'em so it
ain't my problem." She tossed the pants at me. "Put 'em on!"

She watched as I stepped into the panties and pulled them up
over the plastic shell of the Attends I was wearing. Then she
motioned for me to hold out my wrists. To my surprise she
started releasing the buckles on my mittens. "No good having you
out of commission. I could use some help around here. You be
good now, or I'll have to put these back on before I use my strap
on your prissy little bottom."

Norma told me to change the little boy (Jason) and then take
him out to the back yard and play with him. She warned me not to
try anything with my diapers because she would be keeping an eye
on us.
I hated the thought of being made to expo
Logged
There would be a lot less work-related stress and heart attacks if corporations would start installing playgrounds and having a recess period!  (Especially if the playground has swings!)

Kita Sparkles

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Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown
« Reply #1 on: May 26, 2011, 04:03:08 pm »


I hated the thought of being made to expose my diapers and
plastic panties all the time. I tried to console myself with the
thought that there was no one around to notice me.

Grateful for something to do I picked Jason up and looked
for some diapers for him. The box of Pampers in the corner were
too small a size. Norma said there were more in the upstairs
bathroom. So I took Jason upstairs, noticing that the smell of
stale pee got worse. I found the diapers in the bathroom and
cleaned the poor kid up with a wet cloth before I took him to his
room to be changed. He was pretty good about it and didn't fuss.

I felt more than a little sorry for the kid. There was a
crib and a youth bed in the room so I guessed that he had to
sleep with his baby sister. If the living room smelled bad then
this place was worse. Two diaper pails gave off the pungent
odour of stale urine and both sets of sheets were badly stained
by pee and other fluids. I couldn't wait to get out of there.

When his new diaper was in place and snug I let him up and
did a little quiet exploring before going downstairs. Norma's
room was a mess. There was a big diaper pail in the corner and a
big bag of Attends beside her bed. I wondered if she had to wear
a diaper all the time and wondered again why she would choose the
Attends when cloth diapers were so much more comfortable.

As we passed through the kitchen Norma gave me two bottles
of apple juice. I told her I didn't think the boy was that
thirsty but she just laughed and said one of the bottles was for
me. I didn't want the bottle but I didn't want to get into
trouble with Norma either. I said nothing more and took the
bottles from her.

We went out to the sand box and I watched Jason start to
play. It felt really strange to be sitting outside, wearing only
diapers and a t-shirt as I sucked on a baby bottle. An hour went
by and Norma came out with another bottle of juice - for me.

I got a little mad. "You really want me to wet, don't you."

"Nah. I don't care. Yer Grandma said to make ya drink lots
so yer diapers get wet. I'm just doin' my job.

Norma did her job very well. Just before lunch I was so wet
from the hot sun on my plastic pants and my almost constant
wetting that my diapers were leaking, leaving dark patches on the
wooden sides of the sand box. I had never worn diapers this wet.
When I stood up they seemed to hang from my waist and even
started to slip off. I dared not try to adjust them in case
Norma thought I was trying to take them off so I took Jason's
hand and waddled toward the house.

By then the day had warmed up quite a bit. My diapers had
become hot and itchy but I had fought off the almost constant
urge to use my freed fingers to gain some relief. I had seen
Norma's face at the back door enough to know I was being watched.


As we went into the kitchen I felt a trickle of pee drip
down my leg but I quickly forgot about it because as soon as I
saw Norma I stopped in my tracks and stared.

She was wearing a pair of terry cloth shorts that clung
tightly, just like the ones that Grandma had bought for me the
day before. Like mine, her shorts revealed the bulk of a diaper
underneath them and I could see wisps of blue plastic peeking
over the top of the waist band and out from around the leg
openings. She must have been very wet because there were darker
patches where her diaper had leaked. She was standing by the
stove with her legs spread a little.

She turned and looked at me with a funny expression on her
face. "Looks like we both need a change." she said and blushed a
little.

She led the way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Jason
went to look at the things on her dresser while she spread out an
Attends on her bed. She said that she wasn't supposed to leave
me alone or let me change my own diaper so I had better get a
diaper from my bag and she would "see to me".

By the time I got back to the bedroom she was lying on the
bed, had pulled the fresh diaper into place and was taping it. I
looked down at the discarded diaper and was shocked to see she
had messed in it a little. Suddenly I realized that she hadn't
had enough time to clean herself up and therefore must be dirty
under that nice new diaper. I shuddered.

She looked at my surprised face. "What's with you? I told
ya I needed protection." She stood up wearing only her shirt and
the diaper and motioned for me to lie down. I really didn't want
to but I had no choice.

The bed smelled as bad as the couch. I wondered what her
husband did and why he let her keep the place so badly but at the
first touch of her hands on my plastic pants I was suddenly more
concerned about what she was doing to me.

She had my panties off in an instant and tore the tapes of
my Attends expertly. She asked me if I was dirty and I shook my
head. She pulled the wet diaper out from under me and slid a
fresh one into place. Just before she pulled it up between my
legs she asked me how many diapers I had brought with me. I told
her there were three more in my diaper bag and she said she had
better do something to make them last longer.

She disappeared, leaving me lying half naked with Jason
staring at me. I wanted to cover my private parts but since she
might take that as being bad I just hoped the kid was too young
to know what was going on.

Norma came back with two baby Pampers, taped end-to-end to
make a long narrow diaper. She made me lift my hips while she
put them in the centre of the Attends and then pulled all the
diapers into place. It happened so fast and I was so intimidated
by her that I forgot to ask for powder.

The Pampers had a paper lining that was softer and nicer
than the Attends but the extra bulk in my crotch seemed
incredible. I had to open my legs wide while she taped the
Attends and then she told me to stand up.

"Tapes won't take the pressure," she commented as she picked
up a wide roll of packing tape. She started a band of tape over
one of the Attends tapes and then walked around me, winding the
tape onto my diaper and covering all the diaper tape fasteners.
She made the bands tight and by the time she finished I was sure
I wouldn't be able to push these diapers down.

"I don't like this!" I blurted out.

She just smiled at me as she handed me the fresh pair of
plastic panties I had brought. "Too bad. Ya gets caught, ya
gets punished." Then she told me to change Jason while she went
to get the baby.

I took a few steps and immediately was aware of the extra
bulk. The crackle of the disposable diapers and the rustle of
the plastic pants made me glad so few people were around. I
quickly noticed that the Pampers felt a lot nicer on my private
parts. A soft glow was building. Part of me wanted to plan a
few minutes alone so I could enjoy it but that seemed impossible.
The bath room was off-limits and Norma seemed to have a mother's
knack of always knowing where I was and what I was doing.
Suddenly I felt trapped in the diapers and more that a little
frightened when I thought about the rest of the summer.

As I changed the little boy I wondered why a four-year old
was still in diapers. I asked him if he had started school but
he just shook his head. He was one of those kids who could talk
up a storm with someone he knew but was dead silent with
strangers. The tan marks around his waist told me he had been
running around dressed only in a diaper since the weather got
warm. Norma didn't seem to be trying to toilet train him. I
wondered how late she would leave it. I had heard stories that
the schools wouldn't accept a child still in diapers.

When Jason and I got to the kitchen I noticed a
six-month-old baby in a high chair. The little girl had already
made quite a mess of her lunch but Norma wasn't paying attention.
She was standing at the counter fixing some food, wearing only
her diaper and a shirt. It really bothered me that this woman
was so unconcerned about being seen in a diaper while I was
terrified of the same thing.

Norma told me to sit Jason at the table and to take a seat
as well. There were big baby bottles of juice at two places and
I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something that
would get me into more trouble.

When Norma brought the food to the table I almost broke my
resolve. She put a bowl of pureed food down in front of Jason
and me but she had fixed a sandwich for herself. She saw me
staring at it with a look of disgust.

"It won't hurt ya." she mumbled through a mouth full of
food.

"I'm not a baby!" I pouted.

"Nah. 'Course not. Big girls get to wear clothes, not
diapers. Only babys wear diapers." she paused to let her next
words sink in, "finish what's in front of ya or I'll fill yer
deedees with it!"

I hated it. I hated every mouthful of the bland, tasteless
paste. Jason gobbled his down and asked for more but I had to
stifle a gag reaction just at the sight of it. One of the worse
parts was having to drink from a baby bottle. I had managed it
all morning but here, sitting at the table, it felt really awful.
I hated the taste of the rubber nipple because I doubted Norma
had washed it very well, if at all.

After lunch Norma made me wash the dishes while she changed
the baby and put her in the play pen. When she came back she
ordered me and Jason to follow her upstairs. With sinking heart
I noticed she was heading for Jason's room. I wanted to ask her
why, but I was beginning to learn to keep my mouth shut.

She lowered the side of the crib and hoisted a protesting
Jason into it. I guessed he had just recently been promoted to
the youth bed and didn't want to be a baby just like his sister.
But Norma ignored him and he quietened down when she showed him a
pacifier with long ribbons attached to it. As soon as he was
settled she turned to me and pointed to the youth bed.

"You gets an afternoon nap, just like the rest of the kids."

I looked at the bed and smelled the pungent stench of the
room, made worse by the summer heat and the partly closed window.
"I don't need a nap." I said carefully.
"I says ya do! Now get yer diapered butt onto that bed
while I gets ya fixed up."

I had no idea what she meant by that but I didn't have much
of a choice so I held my breath, laid down and tried to pull the
hem of my t-shirt down over my bulging plastic pants. It was
futile. The shirt was just too short to do the job.

When Norma came back she was carrying the roll of wide
packing tape. 'What now!' I wanted to scream but instead I just
waiting for instructions.

"Hold yer hands like yer pray'n" she ordered and I did. She
started to wrap the tape around my hands, binding them together.
I wanted to weep. Grandma must have really betrayed me to this
woman. In the back of my mind I had wondered if the nap might
give me a chance to sneak a finger or two inside my still-dry
diapers and rub myself off. Well, the tape would take care of
that. But there was still the gentle rubbing from the paper
lining of the Pampers she had made me wear. I doubted she could
tell they felt so good so I shut up and let her bind my hands.

"That should keep ya outa trouble" she commented as she
pulled the dirty sheet over me and then strolled out of the room,
the plastic shell of her diaper rustling loudly with every step.

I tried to ignore my revulsion at the condition of my
surroundings. Instead, I concentrated on the softness of the
bulk between my thighs and tried to encourage the warm little
spark to blossom into a wonderful fire.

Although my hands were taped together I could still use them
to put some pressure on my crotch. I kneaded and pushed, flexed
my legs together and squirmed in delight as the soft, dry padding
of the diapers caressed my most sensitive places. I let myself
get lost in the sensations, allowing the warmth to blossom in my
loins until it was all I could do not to moan out loud.

Finally I exploded in a burst of pleasure, rocking back and
forth as I pressed down hard on the pads that covered my loins.
As I drifted back into reality I was afraid that Norma might have
heard or seen me but the house was quiet. Jason was staring at
me curiously through the bars of the crib. I started to drift
off to sleep but just before I slipped away I felt myself let go
of my aching bladder, not caring that I was wetting my diapers,
just happy to have had an orgasm in the middle of the nightmare.

I must have slept for a couple of hours because the next
thing I knew I heard the sounds of a little kid crying. I
guessed that Jason's older sister had come home from school.
Norma's voice was gentle, soothing the kid. I was surprised, I
didn't think of her as a kind person.
As soon as I heard them on the stairs I decided to pretend
to still be asleep. I was comfortable and left alone where I
was. Getting up and attracting Norma's attention wouldn't be an
improvement. I kept my eyes open just a little so I could see a
little of what was going on.

The little girl's name was Karen and Norma was being very
comforting about the fact that she had wet her panties while at
day camp. I could remember being her age and having the
occasional accident. Norma was trying to console her
embarrassment but nothing she could say seemed to calm the girl
down. I began to wonder why she didn't take the soaked panties
off the girl and then she said the one thing that Karen obviously
wanted to hear: "You want me to put a diaper on ya, don't ya? I
can tell. That's OK, I'll get ya fixed up. Just take off yer
pants and lie on the floor."

I had seen a lot of strange things in the past two days but
this six year old girl, actually asking for a diaper, knocked me
over. Norma kept looking at me so I had to try very hard not to
let my eyelids move. Still, I stared and stared as Norma put a
super toddler Pampers on her daughter, helped her up, patted her
padded bottom and offered her a snack. At the mention of food
Jason started fussing so Norma picked him up out of the crib and
took the kids down stairs.

I was grateful that I was alone again but my thoughts
weren't on another orgasm. I was suddenly very aware that I
needed to have a bowel movement and the fear of messing myself
was creeping over me like a shadow. I twisted and turned and
tried to find a position where the cramps weren't so bad but
nothing helped.

The worst part was what was happening in my mind. I was
already in disposable diapers so even if I went to Norma there
was nothing she would do. I kept looking ahead for some chance,
some occasion when I could sneak away to the toilet and be spared
the worst part of being in diapers.

Of course, there was nothing to look forward to. Grandma
was angry with me for masturbating. There were a lot of "D"s on
the calendar. Norma had me where she wanted me to be. No one
was inclined to help me. I had nothing to look forward to but
the fact that, sooner or later, I was going to have to load my
diapers like a toddler.

The more I tried to hold it back the worse the cramps got.
Finally I knew there was no point in torturing myself so I laid
on my back, flexed and spread my knees and tried to let it come
out.

I had expected it to burst from me but I really did have to
work at pushing the mush out of me. That made it all the worse,
first having to work so hard to hold it in and then having to
grunt and groan to expel it.

Finally it began and suddenly I knew I couldn't stop it. My
imagination pictured what was happening in my diapers and it
almost made me sick. Still, it felt pretty good to be rid of the
cramps and I tried to concentrate on that.

When it was over I lay very still, hoping that somehow I
wouldn't have to let my own waste touch me. Another part of me
knew I was being stupid on that point but for at least fifteen
minutes I was frozen in that position, hoping I would never have
to move again.

That's the way I was when Norma found me. She came into the
room, sniffed the air knowingly and smiled with satisfaction.
"Messed yerself, did ya? Well don't expect me to change ya. Yer
granny's due soon anyhow. C'mon. Ya may as well be where I can
see ya." She grabbed my taped hands and almost forcibly pulled
me from the bed. Standing up made the load in my diapers shift
and I grimaced with disgust. Norma just smiled again and told me
to go to the living room and change the baby.

Every step along the way was a chapter of misery. I hated
the feeling of the luke-warm mush as it was pressed against my
skin. Sometimes I caught of whiff of it and almost gagged. By
the time I got to the living room I would have given anything to
be changed. Even if it had meant more time in diapers I would
have agreed. Anything was better than the way I felt.

The baby was obviously messy as she lay in the play pen but
my hands were still taped together so there I couldn't do
anything about changing her. I waited for Norma and wondered
what Grandma had been doing all day.

As it turned out, Grandma arrived before Norma had a chance
to release my hands. The strange smile she wore and the fact
that she didn't seem to be angry with me anymore actually scared
me a lot. I knew Grandma had some plans for me and having to wait
and see what they were was real torture.

I was made to thank Norma for her hospitality and then I had
to fetch my diaper bag. I noticed that there should have been
three Attends left instead of one and guessed that Norma had
helped herself while I was sleeping. Both Norma and Grandma knew
I was wet and messy but neither of them said or did anything to
acknowledge it. I suppose it was part of Grandma's game to make
me ask to have my diapers changed.

I couldn't take Norma's shirt off because my hands were
taped but no one seemed to care about that. Norma handed my
clothes to Grandma and told her I had been "pretty good". When I
suddenly realized that Grandma was going to make me walk home
with my wet and messy diapers in plain sight I began to fret but
one look from that stern face helped me to keep quiet. As
Grandma cut the tape on my hands I just concentrated on the baby
calendar in the kitchen and prayed I could keep it clear for the
rest of the summer.

It was probably only about 500 feet from Norma's house to
Grandma's, but for me, walking in my wet and messy diapers, with
my plastic panties exposed for all to see and the diaper bag on
my shoulder as proof of what I was wearing, it seemed like a
mile. I was sure that every person in sight stopped and stared
and that even the cars passing on the street slowed to get a
better look at me. By the time we crossed her doorway I was
almost in tears and ready to accept any terms Grandma offered, if
only she would cease the punishment of being made to wear and use
diapers.

Grandma chatted merrily about her day of "special shopping"
and asked me inane questions about how I had liked my stay with
Norma. I knew she was baiting me. Once inside Grandma's
pristine house the odours from the shirt were very evident, not
to mention the smells from my loaded diapers. Grandma marched me
upstairs to the bathroom where she donned a rubber apron and
supervised my taking a shower. She peeled down my plastic
panties and as soon as she started to cut through the packing
tape that held my disposable diaper in place I began to be afraid
of what would be revealed. I trembled in dread but she seemed
not to be concerned. I expected her to comment on the packing
tape but she said nothing. I interpreted her silence to the fact
that she and Norma must be in each other's confidence.

But when the diaper finally fell away from my hips as I
stood in the bath tub it was not the smell or the obvious mess
that brought Grandma to comment, it was the arrangement of
Pampers inside the Attends. While I stood there naked and
fearful she commented that "it looked like a good idea" because
it added a lot of bulk between the legs and the added absorbency
meant I could go longer between changes. She asked me to remind
her to buy Pampers tomorrow but somehow I didn't think she would
need any prompting.

Grandma had me cleaned up in a few minutes. She did it all,
washing and then drying me, as if I were a real baby. Looking
back on it I suppose she didn't want to give me a chance to touch
myself but at the time it just made me feel that much more
helpless.

It felt so wonderful to be free of the uncomfortable, bulky
diapers, and the hot plastic panties, even if it was only for a
few minutes. I felt clean again and the only thing that dimmed
my mood was the thought that another set of diapers and another
pair of plastic panties were waiting for me just a few steps down
the hall. I thought of asking Grandma to give me another chance,
to plead that I had already learned my lesson; but Grandma was
wearing her determined look and I knew by then she would want to
punish me some more for having found a way to gain pleasure -
even through thick diapers.

She saw the look in my eyes and said, "Come now, Barbara!
You know perfectly well why you are being punished. You could
have been free of diapers in just a few days but you persisted in
your disgusting habit and so your punishment must also continue."

I didn't reply. I was afraid to say anything in case I got
myself into more trouble. Grandma wrapped me in a big towel and
took me to my room.

It was hard to sit there on the bed and watch her prepare a
thick stack of cloth diapers for me. She used so many that I
guessed she didn't want to have to change me until morning. I
shuddered at the thought of being made to wear wet diapers for
the next 12 hours but if Grandma noticed, she didn't say
anything.

When she told me, I laid down on the diapers and watched
Grandma put oil and powder on me. Then she pulled the diapers
into position, forcing my legs wider apart than was comfortable,
and pinning them as tightly as she could. The diapers were so
tight that a protest rose to my lips but I stifled it. Grandma
noticed and reminded me that cotton stretches when wet and she
didn't want the diapers to come loose in the middle of the night.

She handed me a fresh pair of plastic pants and told me to
put them on. I hated the thought of what they were going to do
to me but I didn't have any choice. As soon as I stood up I
realized that these must be the thickest diapers she had ever
made me wear. I stepped into the pants and worked them up my
legs. They covered the diapers but only just barely and the
plastic was tight as it strained to cover all the cloth. I
looked over and saw my reflection in the mirror - a 14 year old
girl with small breasts wearing a huge diaper and a pair of
translucent plastic panties. Was this how I looked to Norma and
the kids? How could they not laugh? I blushed deep red.

Grandma gave me a bra she had bought on her shopping trip.
It looked like something from the 1950's. It was thick and
reinforced and awful but I put it on. It was then that I
discovered that its cups were so well reinforced that I couldn't
touch my nipples through them. She also gave me a night shirt
that was too short to cover all of my diapers.

After dinner I had to do the dishes and wash out the few
cloth diapers and plastic panties that had been used. She made
me hang them out on the back clothesline but by then it was
almost dark and I didn't think anyone would see me. I was more
concerned by the fact that having those things in full view on
the line would attract a lot of attention from anyone who cared
to notice.

I was allowed to watch TV with her for a while before it was
time for bed. Grandma made me drink a lot of lemonade. We both
knew she wanted me to wet my diapers. In fact I already had to
pee quite badly but I was holding back, hoping to not have to
give her the satisfaction of seeing me wet and uncomfortable.

Since we had come back from Norma's I had been wondering
what Grandma had bought on her shopping trip. It wasn't a
curious kind of wondering, more like dread - a prisoner waiting
to hear her sentence. When Grandma stood up, turned off the TV
and announced that it was time to "put me down for the night" I
knew my time had come. As we crossed the kitchen I looked at the
calendar with all its "D"s and "C"s. To my horror I saw the "S"
on today's date and realized I had forgotten that I was to get
spanked for the first time tonight.

She took me to my room and told me to take off the night
shirt. I watched her spread out a plastic covered changing pad
on the bed. I told her I wasn't wet and she gave me a very
strange look. "Why not?" she demanded, "you've had four glasses
of lemonade and you've not been changed since I brought you back
from Norma's." She glared at me for a few long seconds and then
continued. "It's foolish to try and hold your water like that.
You will be in diapers for a long time. You may as well get used
to wearing wet ones. I want you to release your water right
now!"

"Please no, Grandma!" I blurted out. I wanted to stay dry
and comfortable as long as possible.

"Do as you are told! If you lose control when I spank you
things will get even worse!"

A sense of defeat washed over me. With cheeks red from
shame I spread my legs a little and then released a flood into my
diapers. I gasped with surprise at the feeling of the hot pee
creeping through the cloth. Grandma looked satisfied.

I was ordered onto the changing pad. Grandma pulled down my
plastic panties and unpinned one side of the diapers. She pulled
the whole arrangement down my legs and set it on the dresser top.
I saw her open a drawer and take out an 18" long plastic ruler.
She told me to kneel on the floor and rest my chest on the bed.
Slowly, fearfully, I did as I was told.

"Two strokes, Barbara, because this is only your second
day." Then I heard the whoosh of the ruler cutting through the
air and then a stripe of pain across my tender behind. I heard
myself inhale sharply but I didn't have time to cry out before a
second band appeared just below it.

I started to cry and was limp and miserable in her hands as
she helped me up. Then I had to watch through my tears as she
spread out my wet diapers on the changing pad. She made a motion
with her hand as if to invite me to take my place on the diapers.

"Aren't I going to get dry ones?" I pouted, no longer caring
about getting into more trouble.

"Do you think you deserve to be comfortable? I don't. Get
onto these diapers right now or I'll spank you some more!"

The threat of more spanking was enough to get me into
action. I put my bottom on the wet pads, grimacing with disgust
because they had already cooled and felt awful. She pinned the
diapers as tightly as before and then fitted the plastic panties
over my ankles. I stood up and pulled them into place.

I watched Grandma go to the closet and come back with a
strange pair of pants made out of nylon-like canvass. They were
huge, certainly big enough to cover even my super-thick diapers.
There was a kind of belt around the waist and each leg opening
and it seemed as if a rigid reinforcing panel had been sewn into
the middle of the pants from front waist to back waist. The
panel was at least four inches wide and I knew just by looking at
these pants that they would prevent me from closing my thighs. I
gulped and trembled as she showed them to me.

"These pants will make sure you behave yourself at night.
The panel prevents you from closing your thighs or pressing at
yourself through your diapers." She held them out for me to step
into and I did. She brought them up into place and began to
fasten the straps around my legs and waist.

I had to part my legs as wide as possible to allow the pants
into place and now, having to stand still while she locked me
into them I began to dread having to sleep in them. When she
finished, and stepped back, she invited me to take a few steps.
I found I could walk but only with a lot of effort and
uncomfortable rubbing from the hard plate between my thighs.
Being made to wear diapers was a holiday compared to this
torture.

Grandma helped me into the crib, found my mittens in my
diaper bag and put them on my hands. All this time I was
sniffling and generally feeling sorry for myself. The pants kept
my thighs so far apart that I wondered if there would be enough
room for the side of the crib to close. I was staring at the
buckles on the leg bands of these strange pants when suddenly
Grandma started doing something to my thigh.

It was a leather cuff and as soon as she had it fastened she
showed me that it was attached to a metal bar about 18" long and
there was another cuff at the other end.

"Oh no!" I sighed as she fastened the other cuff. The pants
pushed my legs apart and this bar arrangement pulled them back
again, effectively locking my legs in a wide, knees flexed
position. I was very uncomfortable.

My voice was very soft and quiet, "Grandma, I won't be able
to sleep like this."

She started to raise the side of the crib. "I'm sure you
will get used to it. At least I can sleep better knowing that
you won't be able to harm yourself anymore."

I wanted to protest again but the words wouldn't come. I
lay there, flat on my back with my legs locked wide apart. I
stared at my mittened hands, cursing them for being so useless.
My diapers had warmed up a little but still felt cool and soggy.
The fire in my bottom had subsided to a dull ache but was still
very sore. Worse yet, I sensed another bowel movement coming. I
watched Grandma turn out the light and then listened to her
footsteps down the hall. I had never known such torture.

I guess I finally did get some sleep. One of the most
subtle, and worst parts of the way I was fixed was that I
couldn't move. I couldn't turn over or even adjust my position.
About an hour after Grandma left I wet again. This time, feeling
the pee invade my diapers reinforced how helpless I felt. I
could do nothing to avoid it or direct it. I just had to lay
there and wet myself like an infant.

I woke up just as I started to mess. It terrified me and I
tried valiantly to stop it but having my legs locked so wide
apart made it hard to control my bottom. I gasped, grunted and
groaned in frustration as the soft warm mush began to fill my
diapers. I hated the feel of it and was reminded of what had
happened at Norma's but this time there was nothing I could do to
help myself. I lay awake for the next few hours, waiting for
Grandma.

That first night in the leg brace and hard pants (Grandma's
names for them) broke my spirit. I stopped resisting and just
tried to do what I was told when I was told. I didn't even
complain when the second night came around and I had to watch as
the pants and brace were applied again, ensuring an almost
sleepless night and a very early awakening.

During the day Grandma dressed me in just a t-shirt over my
old-fashioned bra and, of course, diapers and plastic panties.
She gave me lots of housework to do and made sure that I got
plenty to drink.

If we had to go out anywhere she let me wear a dress but
always one that was cut too short to hide my shame. She took to
sewing lace ruffles into the seat of some of my coloured pants,
making me look like a big baby girl.

Day after day passed, with only the end of the "C"s and the
"S"s on the calendar to look forward to. If I needed to move my
bowels and was not wearing a disposable diaper I had to go to
Grandma and ask her to change me. That was the only time I was
allowed to ask for a diaper change.

I got so used to being in diapers that after a few weeks I
realized that I had sort of lost control of my water. I didn't
think about peeing, it just happened. Messing was something
different. I never got used to it and always tried to have it
happen just before Grandma was due to change me. Of course, her
rule about changing me into a disposable just before I messed
guaranteed that I always spent at least a few hours in a messy
diaper.

Whenever I had my period Grandma kept me in disposable
diapers around the clock. I quickly came to hate those diapers
because of the heat and the itch. Only once did I have to spend
a night in disposable diapers, the hard pants and the leg brace
but it was enough to discourage me from ever risking that
punishment when I had my period.

The summer dragged on and I kept hoping that I could be good
long enough to be let out of diapers. Looking back on it I guess
Grandma intended that I spend the summer in diapers because just
as I got to the last "D" on the calendar something would happen
that would let her write a lot more "D"s.

After a while I began to think of things as normal if all I
had to wear were cloth diapers and a pair of plastic panties. If
Grandma was going out for a while where I wasn't invited she
would put the hard pants and the mittens on me and leave me to
wander the house in my spread-leg gait, counting the minutes
until she returned and I could be comfortable again.

When she did take me out I was always dressed so that my
diapers showed at least just a little. I never did get used to
that and although I knew better than to protest I knew that my
red face was enough to tell Grandma that I was suffering.

Grandma used humiliation when she really wanted me to
behave. There was one time when she took me to visit a friend of
hers in a nearby town. I had to pack my own diaper bag and carry
it. She didn't tell me we were going to a private home so I had
prepared myself for another afternoon of being stared at in
public. When I finally found out where were headed I almost
fainted.

When we got to the town, Grandma pulled over to the side of
the road and wrapped my hands in gauze bandages and white tape.
By then I knew that she was going to use the burned hands story
so I just shut up and let her do it.

Grandma's friend was an older, widowed woman who treated me
like I was a lot younger than I was. She noticed my hands first
and Grandma gave her the burns story. As soon as I sat down the
woman saw my bulging plastic panties and before she could ask,
Grandma pointed out that because of my bandages I couldn't help
myself in the bathroom.

I was surprised when the woman asked, sincerely, why Grandma
didn't just come to the bathroom with me instead of making me
wear diapers all the time. Grandma replied that some of the
medication I had to take caused loose bowels and therefore going
with me would be unpleasant, if not impractical.

The woman seemed fascinated by my diapers and kept asking
questions about them. Grandma didn't encourage her to change the
topic and so I had to endure their attention, including a request
to lift my dress and model my strange underwear. I almost
fainted from embarrassment.

The worst part was when I needed to be changed. Grandma
asked if the woman minded and she replied that we could use a
bedroom. Grandma thanked her but said she would change me right
there on the carpet.

She spread out a changing pad and had my wet diapers off in
a few seconds. My heart sank when she laid out a couple of
Attends with a couple of Pampers added as soakers. The woman
asked a lot of questions about the adult disposable diapers and
Grandma kept up an extended conversation while I lay there,
half-diapered, having to suffer through it all. Finally she
finished diapering me and I went back to my chair. I hid my face
in a magazine to hide my flaming cheeks.

As the end of August approached I became very aware of how
little control I had of my water. I began to worry that once I
went back home I would still need diapers, especially at night
when I seemed to wet a lot without knowing it. So in a way, I
was glad when Grandma told me she would be sending some diapers
and plastic panties home with me just in case Mom needed them.

When the day came when Mom would come for me I was so
excited I could barely contain myself. Grandma woke me up early
and took the mittens off my hands. Then she released the hard
pants (even though I was sleeping in the youth bed I still had to
wear those awful pants every night). She took off my diapers and
sent me to the bathroom to shower. It was the first time I had
been allowed to shower alone since I had arrived at Grandma's but
I didn't use the chance to masturbate.

When I came back to my room Grandma inspected my vulva to
see if I had behaved myself and when she was satisfied she gave
me a pair of my normal panties to wear. They felt so wonderful I
wanted to do a dance to celebrate. Then she gave me one of my
old bras and that felt pretty good too. I had only short dresses
but that didn't bother me anymore. It was one thing to give the
world a peek of your panties and another thing altogether to show
diapers and plastic panties.

As Grandma started to pile things up by the door I watched
anxiously for any sign of the leg brace or the hard pants. I
detested both things so badly that it would have broken my heart
to know that they were even in the same house.

Finally I heard Mom's car and rushed outside to meet her. I
was so glad to be going home. I felt like I was being let out of
prison! I hugged her in the yard and then, suddenly, felt my
water give way. I took a step back and we both stared as
dribbles of pee trickled down my legs.

The look on Mom's face darkened. Then she looked past me at
Grandma. "I think you've kept her in diapers a little too long."
was all she said.

Grandma came out into the yard and took my hand. "She
needed the diaper training. A few relapses are to be expected."
Then she said to me, "I guess we had better put you back into
diapers, at least for the trip home."

The phrase 'back into diapers' stuck in my mind as Grandma
led me upstairs to my room where those wonderful normal panties
were taken off and I was bound up in two cloth diapers and a pair
of the plastic panties with the ruffles sewn along the seat. I
hated how used I had become to wearing diapers and I was
terrified that the accident in the yard would make Mom want to
keep me in them once we got home.

Mom asked me a lot of questions about the summer and how
often Grandma had made me wear diapers. She didn't seem
surprised when I told her that I hadn't been out of diapers since
the day I arrived. She said that the experience had probably
done me good and that she hoped I had learned my lesson well. I
wanted to ask her if she was going to make me wear diapers as a
punishment but I was so afraid of a positive answer that I just
couldn't bring myself to form the words.

When we got home she helped me unpack. While I had been
away she had cleaned out a lot of my clothes from the closet and
the dresser. With a sinking heart I watched her put the diapers
that Grandma had sent away with my other things. The worst part
of all was the fact that every time I opened my closet door I
would be looking at a bag of Attends. She took my diaper off and
said that she wasn't mad about me wetting but that if I started
wetting she would diaper me - not because I was being punished
but to keep the carpets and furniture dry. She also suggested
that I wear diapers to bed until I woke up dry 30 mornings in a
row. I didn't argue. I wasn't going to have to wear diapers in
the day time and there was a good chance I wouldn't have to wear
the uncomfortable Attends ever again.

I wet for the first few nights back at home but Mom didn't
make a fuss about it. She purchased a plastic mattress cover for
my bed and promised not to hang my cloth diapers out on the line
for everyone to see.

Life generally got back to normal for a few weeks. I had a
couple of day time accidents but I sensed I was regaining my
control of my urine. I had my 15th birthday and as a special
present Mom announced that I could start wearing pantyhose and
higher heeled shoes on special occasions. I was so excited that
I went out and bought a new dress, special nylons and a new pair
of shoes with heels much higher than anything I had ever been
allowed to wear before. I modelled the outfit for Mom, grateful
that for once I had skirts that were modest enough to cover my
underwear properly. She was a little concerned about how sexy I
looked and said she had to think about whether or not I would be
allowed to wear the clothes to the Fall dance at my school.

By the time the dance came around I had a new boyfriend who
was still "too old" by Mom's opinion. I started to get ready
just after dinner by taking a bath and shaving my legs and
underarms. I did my make-up and perfume in the bathroom and then
put on a bath robe to go to my room.

I stopped stock still when I found Mom in my room but when I
saw the cloth diapers and plastic panties on the bed beside her
my heart began to sink.

Mom saw the look on my face and started to console me. She
said she knew how much I was looking forward to the dance and how
I wanted to wear my new outfit. Nonetheless she had some
concerns about my new boyfriend and she didn't want a repeat of
what had happened last spring. Therefore she had decided that I
should go to the dance with diapers on underneath my dress as a
reminder not to let boys get too fresh.

I was so stunned that at first I just couldn't picture how
it could possibly work. Mom took charge and led me over to the
diapers. She took off my robe and made my lie down on them
before she used a lot of powder. Then she pinned them the way
Grandma had, using four pins, before she pinned them comfortably
snug. She teased me that it had been a long time since she had
put a diaper on me.

I stood up and was reaching for the plastic panties when she
said she wasn't finished. She had a needle and thread ready and
a few seconds later had sewn the diapers on my body. She
explained that it would be too tempting for me to go to the
ladies room, take off my diapers, do naughty things and then put
the diapers on before I came home. To be truthful, the thought
hadn't occurred to me but now it was impossible anyway. I put
the plastic panties on and then began to work the pantyhose up my
legs while Mom watched.

The pantyhose covered my diapers but just by taking a few
steps we both knew they would slide down off the plastic panties
and I would be spending a lot of time adjusting them. Mom looked
thoughtful for a moment and then disappeared down the hall. She
came back with a garter belt and a pair of stockings.

I had never seen a garter belt before and she had to show me
how to put it on. We lengthened the garters while Mom told me
how sexy a garter belt was and how it drove some men wild. "But
you won't let any wild men get close enough to find out, will
you?" she said in a tone that was almost teasing.

The stockings were a lot easier to put on than the pantyhose
and from that moment onward I've preferred them for that reason.
It felt very strange to be in diapers and yet feel the taunt
garters pulling at the tops of my stockings. It also made me
feel very sexy and soon my diapers were damp from my own juices.

My date came to pick me up and off we went to the dance.
Mom was right about the diapers. I was so afraid of someone
discovering them that I made sure my boyfriend didn't try to pat
my bottom while we were dancing and I let him know in no
uncertain terms that kissing was as far as I was going to go.

The girls kept bugging me to go to the ladies room with them
to gossip. How could I tell them that I wouldn't be needing a
toilet for the rest of the night? I went anyway and pretended to
use one of the cubicles.

Mom had given me a curfew of midnight but she may as well
have saved her breath. By 11:00 I had wet to the point where I
dared not wet anymore. I was scared that I might lose control so
I told my date to take me home. I had had a good time but a
chaste one.

As soon as I got in the door Mom was anxious to know about
the dance. I knew she really wanted to check my diapers so I
told her I had to pee real bad and she could come with me to the
bathroom if she wanted.

I had to release all my garters and struggle to get the
diaper pins loose before I could sit down. I didn't make it
because of the sewing. Before Mom could get the diapers loosened
I flooded them. They held the water but now they were very
heavy. Mom helped me take off my dress and then she released the
diaper pins and inspected the stitches that had acted as diaper
locks all night. Satisfied that there had been no tampering she
congratulated me and left me alone to do my business.

When I got back to my room Mom was waiting beside a thick
pile of cloth diapers and a fresh pair of plastic panties. I was
upset because I had been dry long enough not to have to wear
diapers at night anymore. She explained that she could tell from
the condition of my diapers that I had been aroused during the
evening and she wanted me to sleep in extra thick diapers tonight
to remind me of my summer at Grandma's and the lessons I had
learned.

Remembering the way I used to be able to rub myself off when
wearing diapers I pretended to be angry but in fact I was looking
forward to a wonderful orgasm. I let Mom put the diapers on me
and then we said good night. Before I drifted off I had a
wonderful masturbation session and another one the next morning.

Mom continued to make me wear diapers from time to time as a
chastity device or to remind me of Grandma's lessons. I tried to
protest appropriately but in fact I looked forward to having the
soft thick pads pinned tightly in place and then being left alone
to enjoy a delicious orgasm.

I don't think Mom ever figured out that I had come to enjoy
wearing diapers. She didn't notice when I took some diapers to
university with me. I wore them to class under full skirts and
even went out on a date wearing them. No one discovered my
secret.

I still wear diapers for fun. Sometimes I'll sew them on
before I go shopping and wet myself merrily all afternoon,
relishing the thought that no one else is aware of my private
world.

Thanks Grandma!
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There would be a lot less work-related stress and heart attacks if corporations would start installing playgrounds and having a recess period!  (Especially if the playground has swings!)

powderhair

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Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown
« Reply #2 on: May 30, 2011, 05:45:47 pm »

You always have good taste in stories Kita. :)
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kenk7us2002

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Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown
« Reply #3 on: May 30, 2011, 09:46:00 pm »

Kita did you write this
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Kita Sparkles

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Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown
« Reply #4 on: May 31, 2011, 06:37:45 pm »

No - that is why I posted "Author Unknown" and put it in the Non-Member stories section.  Powderhair is not saying she thinks I wrote it, just that she likes that I posted it.
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There would be a lot less work-related stress and heart attacks if corporations would start installing playgrounds and having a recess period!  (Especially if the playground has swings!)

LyleWise

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Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown
« Reply #5 on: August 07, 2013, 03:38:03 am »

« Last Edit: August 07, 2013, 05:09:55 pm by Renko Yanagi »
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Renko Yanagi

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Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown
« Reply #6 on: August 07, 2013, 05:11:16 pm »

EDIT: See Renko's post below

Hi. Your post got cut off because you tried quoting the complete first post. You'll need to repost your reply since it was lost.

I had to edit your post to fix the quote because it was completely broken and blocking new replies :)
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ausdpr

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Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown
« Reply #7 on: November 28, 2013, 06:20:19 pm »

This was one of the first abdl stories that I ever read, if not the first, and the 14 year old protagonist seemed mature and old when I read it, so it may have been 16+ years ago :/. The story's themes, from discovering the giant plastic pants, to messing at stores, and so on, are still oddly fresh in my memory now, and I think it was one which may have influenced the tastes of a bunch of us writing things today (but then, I possibly liked that story more than the others because it matched my pre-existing tastes).
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