Chapter One: The Birthday Party
September 24th, a crisp, brisk early fall day, unusually cool for Illinois, greeted thousands of new and returning students with its windy "Hello." Midwestern University began its term late and ended early, an oddity for a school that called itself "the Harvard of the Midwest," but Tommy didn't really care about such things. He couldn't even keep his mind on which courses he was taking or who his professors were. All he really could think about was the condition in which he found himself as he wandered down the campus lane searching for the building which housed the first class of his college career.
He had arrived in town only a few days earlier, a lone seventeen-year-old from the northeast, ready to strut his stuff in the highly respected university's English Department. He was a writer and a lover of literature, and he hoped to go far in his field. Throughout high school, Tommy had received extremely high grades and commendations from his teachers. Partially, this was the result of his hard work, but it probably also stemmed from the fact that he had very little in the way of a social life. Ever since some unfortunate instances in grammar school and junior high, he had been shunned by most of his classmates. Girls snickered at him in hallways, remembering things he wished they had forgotten. Most of the boys simply ignored him most of the time. Only a few of them ever spoke with him, and fewer still spoke without making snide comments. He had only two real friends, but he was never certain that they were not friendly merely out of sympathy.
Even when he graduated as class valedictorian, Tommy could find little respect from his peers. His teachers loved him, but the sneers and whispers that had accompanied him for years never completely died down, and there was always someone around who would get a kick out of resurrecting them suddenly in unexpected places.
Tommy turned down the central university footpath in the direction of the library. He could see it in the distance, its three gigantic towers dwarfing everything in its vicinity. His class didn't begin for an hour; he thought maybe he would hide there for a while and sort things out. How had all of this happened?
Sitting alone in a quiet wing of the third floor of the stacks, he thought about his life. It had begun normally enough: the first child of a family of six, he had assumed his share of the household duties at a young age. His parents expected him to help out, and it seemed only reasonable; there was a lot to do. At one point in his childhood, he had four siblings in diapers at the same time. Actually, it had been down to three briefly, but his mother had put his oldest sister back in diapers when she had wet her bed for several nights in a row, and she then found it impossible to stay dry for several years. Two of the others made it to regular underwear before she did. Tommy remembered watching as his mother diapered her, lifting her bottom expertly and powdering her backside before pinning her into thick cotton and sliding extra-large plastic pants over her thickly padded rear. He remembered his mother's voice, chiding her, taunting her in baby talk for being six years old and still in diapers when her three-year-old brother was out of his.
And he remembered his own confusion as he watched her get put to bed on her rubber sheet. He could not figure out why, but he knew that he wished it had been him.
He had been toilet-trained early; two siblings in the two years after his birth had clinched that: his mother needed some kind of relief. So it had come as a bit of a shock when, after years of being dry, he had had these odd thoughts. And what happened at David Whatley's seventh birthday party, an event that would begin his downward spiral on the social ladder, came as even more of a shock.
Tommy shuddered in his private carrel. He felt awkwardly tight around the groin area. He stood up, quickly adjusted himself, and sat back down, praying that no one had seen him.
It was true, he reflected: it all started at that party. But the day was nothing unusual, a bright, summer day, and the kids were the same ones he had played with all of his life. Some of them liked him; some didn't. The loudest of them all, Kenny MacGregor, hated him. And Kenny was there, but Tommy simply stayed in a part of the yard where Kenny was not, and for most of the day he had no problems. Shortly after the cake had been served, he and David had taken a walk down the path in the woods. After they had gone perhaps half a mile, Tommy decided that they should turn back. He had to go to the bathroom, and the woods were full of poison ivy. But halfway back, they ran right into Kenny and his crew.
Kenny stood there in the path, menacing, a tall third-grader who had earned his reputation as a bully. Tommy paused a moment, but he figured that being with the birthday boy should help him get safe passage, so he moved on, trying not to acknowledge Kenny's glare. As soon as he was within arm's reach, though, Kenny grabbed him.
"Where are you going, Sissy?"
Tommy tried to remain calm; Kenny was probably just blowing off steam for something.
"Let me go, Kenny; I have to go to the bathroom."
It was the wrong thing to say. Kenny laughed at his friends. "Sissy has to go to the bathroom. Isn't that just too bad. She should have thought about that before she came way out in the woods."
Tommy had never been sure whether he was more annoyed by the fact that Kenny called him "Sissy" or by Kenny's constant use of the feminine pronoun to refer to him. But this was not the place to argue semantics. His bladder was on overtime.
"Kenny," he said, "just let us pass. Come on; you don't want to make trouble. This is David's party."
Kenny motioned to David. "That's right, " he said. "Happy birthday, Dave. You just run on home, OK? Sissy and I have things to talk about."
David looked at Tommy, unsure of what to do. Suddenly Tommy burst free from Kenny's grasp and ran. With his bladder about to burst, he had to try something. But it didn't work. Kenny's friends caught him and held him as the bully approached.
"I'm not kidding, Kenny," he whined. "I've got to go bad."
Kenny glared at him, and then he smiled a malicious smile. "So go."
Tommy was not sure he had heard correctly. Kenny repeated himself. "You've got to go so badly, Sissy, then go. You're not leaving here before we all see once and for all what a sissy baby you really are. Don't let her go, guys."
Tommy struggled against his captors and his bladder, but he lost both battles. In only a moment, he felt the river of warm pee flowing down his legs. Tears welled up in his eyes as Kenny and his buddies jeered; even David joined in. After he had finished, they let go of his arms. He stood in a shameful puddle, his pants soaked through, crying deeply. He hardly even realized that Kenny had led David off somewhere; he only heard the laughter.
Chapter Two : Jimmy
There were people in the library now, a few obviously studious types who had arrived early to begin their research. One girl sat across from him in another carrel, her red hair hanging loose about her face. He wondered how long she had been there; had she seen him before? Could she tell?
His childhood had changed in that instant at the party. Suddenly he became "Baby" to everyone except for Kenny, who stubbornly continued to call him "Sissy." There were other incidents, too, that kept the legend up. Something inside him had snapped on that day, and more accidents followed; doctors his mother made him see said there was nothing physically wrong, that he would outgrow it. But he kept having occasional accidents throughout grammar school and into junior high--not many, but they were embarrassing. His mother never put him back into diapers, even though a part of him often wished that she would; she had finally toilet trained her sixth child, and she was not about to turn back. Even when he began to wet the bed, she did not change. She brought out his sister's old rubber sheet and put it on his bed, but that was it. And so things remained throughout junior high and into high school, as the new friends he made were contaminated by the old enemies who followed him. And always there was Kenny, ready and willing to tell all of the stories to anyone who would listen.
The girl in the next carrel stood up and moved down the stacks, reached for a book, and returned to her seat. She wore a full skirt and a light sweater, not out of place for the weather, but Tommy couldn't take his eyes off of the sweet pastel colours and swirling childlike patterns. She glanced over at him, smiled, and went back to her reading.
Tommy had arrived at Midwestern hoping to put all of the baggage of his childhood behind him. No one else he knew was coming here; he could finally make a new start. He was going to live with his aunt and her family; saving the room and board was the only way his parents could afford to send him here. When he arrived at Aunt Julia's house, everyone was happy to see him. He and his aunt and cousins had sat around all afternoon talking about family get-togethers and old times.
He had hardly seen his cousins in years; this was his first visit ever to Chicago and they hadn't been out east in so long he couldn't remember. Chrissie was sixteen now and had turned into a striking young woman, as beautiful as she was friendly. Uncomfortable around girls, he found himself intimidated a bit by her, even if she was his cousin. Her sister Dana was thirteen, and looking at her Tommy could see what Chrissie had looked like a few years ago: Dana had the same eyes and face, the same general appearance--only her body lagged a bit in maturation.
His third cousin, Jimmy, stayed in his room for most of the afternoon. At first, Tommy had forgotten about him in all of the trips down memory lane, but soon he recalled and asked his cousins.
"Jimmy won't come down, Tommy," said Chrissie.
"He's afraid to," added Dana. "He's afraid to let you see him."
Chrissie cut her sister off. "Dana! That's not nice. You shouldn't be that way about Jimmy. He is your brother."
Dana smirked. "Yeah," she said, "he's my brother. But is he my older brother or my younger one?"
Tommy listened intently to all of this, unsure what to make of it. He didn't remember Jimmy at all; had he even made that last trip out east? He knew though that Jimmy was fifteen, the middle child in his family. So what was the confusion? Dana giggled and left the room with a smile at Chrissie. His eldest cousin watched him silently for a few moments, and then sighed.
"I guess you'll know about Jimmy soon enough," she said. "I might as well tell you, since Dana has spilled the beans."
"Tell me what?" he asked.
"About Jimmy. You see, he's not entirely well…"
"He's not well? He's PERFECTLY well, and you know it." Tommy looked up. Aunt Julia had entered the room, interrupting Chrissie's explanation. "The child is simply incorrigible."
"But, Mother, I…"
"Don't give me any of that, young lady. And don't make excuses for your brother. Tommy," she said, shifting her attention to him, "you will see Jimmy soon enough, but here is all you really need to know: Jimmy is a baby. He acts like a baby, so we treat him like a baby. About three years ago, he began to have accidents in his bed. At first, we tried to ignore it, just an unusual reaction to puberty or something. But it got worse. Soon it was three times a week, four times a week, or more. I tried everything, but he would not stop. Finally, I had had it. I told him that, if he did not stop wetting the bed immediately, he would be treated like the baby he obviously was.
He wet the bed that night, and it was the last straw. When he got home from school, I sent him upstairs and told him to take a shower. When he got out of the shower, he found that he did not own any adult underwear any longer; I had thrown it all away. What he did own was a large supply of cloth and disposable diapers. He was told that he would be wearing them until he stopped wetting the bed. At this point, he has been in them around the clock for over two years."
Tommy's eyes glazed over. The carrel across the way was empty; the girl was nowhere in sight. He wondered where she had gone. He hadn't even noticed her leaving. As he stared distractedly at her carrel, he saw something odd on the carpet beneath it. He couldn't tell what it was, but it caught his eye. Slowly, he rose and walked over to where she had been sitting. Looking around to see that he was alone, he bent over and picked it up. It was a diaper pin.
Aunt Julia had finished talking, and Tommy could only gape. Jimmy was kept in diapers like a baby? Could this be true? Aunt Julia rose to leave the room. As she walked out, she said, "You'll meet him at dinner. He eats first, you know."
Chrissie stayed behind. "Mother gets very upset about Jimmy," she said. "She can't abide that kind of uncleanliness. It's not that she's one of those real neat freaks, but it just sort of disgusts her that he has no control at night."
"But she said he's been in diapers for two years. Surely not during the day too?"
"Yes, all the time. Mother says he can get out of diapers when he stops wetting the bed, which he has found impossible. She treats him like a baby. He sleeps in a crib… well, kind of a child's bed converted into a crib; he eats out of a high chair with a bib on, and he is fed before the rest of us."
"He is fed?"
"Yes. Mother insists that he be treated like a real baby whenever he is at home. And she makes him come straight home from school. Not that he wouldn't anyway; he's usually pretty wet in the afternoon. Mother does not let him touch his own diapers."
Chrissie and Tommy talked for quite a while about Jimmy. Tommy was very glad that his own wetting history was a secret, and he certainly hoped it would stay that way.
Chapter Three : The Old Barn
Tommy walked slowly and deliberately up the stairs of Granite Hall for his first class. The building was old, the oldest one on campus, and he thanked goodness that the weather was cool. With no air conditioning in the room, he was sure that his condition would cause him to sweat profusely in the heat. Then a familiar feeling came over him, and he knew that sweat was the last of his worries.
Dinner that evening had been a fascinating event for Tommy. It began about an hour before he and the girls sat down to eat, when he was finally introduced to his cousin Jimmy. Aunt Julia had led her son into the family room while Tommy and Chrissie were talking. Dana followed, eager to see her cousin's reaction to the baby. And Jimmy was indeed a baby, in everything but size. He was dressed in what Tommy immediately realized was a large copy of a popular kind of baby clothes that he had seen advertised on television; the particular outfit was a frilly top with ducks and rabbits on it and a ruffled pair of green panties over an obviously diapered bottom. A large blue pacifier hung on a ribbon from his top. He had no shoes on over his bootie-like socks with lace at the ankles, and he carried a frazzled teddy bear in his left hand, the one that his mother was not holding.
Tommy had been prepared for meeting Jimmy, but the sight still shocked him. He tried very hard to suppress a laugh at the ridiculous child, but a small chortle escaped. Jimmy turned to his mother suddenly and buried his head in her bosom; Aunt Julia looked down at him and patted his head.
"Now, now, Jimmy; this is your cousin. He doesn't mean to be rude to you. If you are this concerned about how you look to others, you should do something about it. It's all up to you, you know."
As they walked into the kitchen for dinner, Tommy pulled Chrissie aside.
"You told me he was kept as a baby, but why is he wearing clothes that were made for a girl?"
Chrissie whispered, "Mother doesn't think that the punishment is having any effect on Jimmy. His wetting seems to be getting worse instead of better. He used to have accidents only at night, and not even every night. When he wet during the day it was simply because he was not allowed out of his diapers. But lately he's been wetting much more frequently, and he's even messed himself a few times. Mother thought that she would add a layer to the punishment, and she's now dressing him as a baby girl. Sometimes she calls him Sissy."
He started. The name flew up at him from his past: Kenny MacGregor taunting him, calling him that name, Sissy. Then there were the accidents, and everyone made fun of him, and he felt so alone. And then there was the summer after fourth grade.
Tommy tried to pay attention to the professor as he introduced some ideas about the poetry of Keats. It was a poem he had read in high school, and one he liked, but the voice seems to come from within some kind of cavern. He couldn't follow it. His pen was writing some notes, but he didn't know what they were, and he wasn't sure he cared. His mind was in an old barn nine years earlier.
Tommy had tried to stay away from trouble all summer, staying out of sight whenever kids were around and reading a lot. They managed to get him anyway. They had caught him when he was out riding his bike and forced him to come with them. Kenny was the leader, of course, and Tommy thought that he might have been able to handle him if he had been alone, but there were just too many to fight or run away from. Tommy felt very anxious as they turned into the barn at the old Crawford place.
It was an old farm that hadn't been lived in for years, and all of the kids knew it as a hangout; their parents wondered why it had not been condemned, and would have died to think of their precious children in such a place. Tommy was told to get off of his bike and walk back to one of the old stables. There were more kids there, both boys and girls now, and they snickered as he walked in. Tommy looked quickly about the crowd for anything like a friendly face, but there were none; these were all kids who made fun of him on a daily basis.
"Welcome, Baby," said Ann, one of the girls he particularly disliked. "We've been waiting for you."
Kenny pushed him to the ground. "Sissy won't come out to play; she's afraid of us. She's afraid she'll wet herself again."
"Leave me alone, Kenny," Tommy protested, but he was just met by laughter.
"Leave you, Sissy? Are you afraid? Do you think I would ever hurt one pretty little hair on your head?" Tommy couldn't speak. "No, I'm not going to do anything at all. Ann and her friends wanted to see you today, so I helped out."
That news somehow managed to unnerve Tommy even more than the mere thought of being Kenny's captive. What could Ann want with him?
She smiled sadistically. "You aren't going to wet yourself, are you, Baby? We couldn't have that. We just couldn't live with ourselves. Could we, girls?"
There was a chorus of snickers. Ann continued. "Let's make sure that Baby stays dry, all right?"
Suddenly ten pairs of arms swarmed over Tommy's prone body, and before he could even begin to fight, the girls had removed all of his clothing. He lay there in the hay, completely naked and defeated. A few of the girls laughed and pointed to his penis, which felt like it was shrivelling and moving indoors for the rest of the day.
From a backpack, one of the girls brought out several large white pieces of cloth. As four or five of them held him down, the others quickly and effectively pinned him into the diapers. Kenny and the boys stood back, laughing at the spectacle. Then Ann brought out some large, frilly plastic pants, pink ones with lace on the bottom. Tommy kicked and cried, but they were too much for him; he found himself lying there, diapered, swaddled within a pink lace covering, surrounded by his classmates, on the stable floor.
"There now, isn't that better?" asked Ann. Then she turned to the rest of the girls. "I think she'll be too cool like that, though, don't you?"
Tommy knew it was far from over. The tone of her voice convinced him that the day's humiliation was going to continue. And he had noted that Ann had called him "she."
The girls brought something else from the back pack, which one of them referred to as a "diaper bag." It was a large girls' playsuit, pink with little bows, in a style that most of those present had long outgrown. Tommy couldn't fight; he let them slip it onto his unprotesting body. Then one of them produced a baby bottle filled with water and sat down beside him on the hay, pulling him over onto her lap.
"Is Baby thirsty?" she asked.
There was no way out, and it didn't matter anymore anyway. He drank meekly from the bottle while Ann took photographs with a Polaroid. Everyone laughed, talking about what great fun it would be to show the pictures at school in the fall. Then the girl who had fed him suddenly pulled away in disgust.
"Yech!," she said. "She's all wet!"
Tommy was surprised to realize that he was indeed soaked. He had always realized before that he was desperately in need of a bathroom, but this time he had thoroughly wet himself without even being aware of it. The diapers had not held it in, and the girl who had fed him was all wet. Ann came over to him, speaking in the way one would talk to a baby.
"Does the baby need a change? Did Baby wet her diapers? Bad girl! And all over Susie, too. Well, we'll have to do something about that."
The girls descended on him again, pulled off the soaked diapers, and dried him with a towel that must have been in the backpack. Expecting a new diaper, Tommy was surprised to find himself thrust face down over the lap of the girl, Susie, who had fed him.
Ann's voice laughed somewhere above him as several hands held him down. "Go ahead, Susie; you teach her not to wet all over people."
Tommy felt the hard sting of Susie's hand on his bottom. He screamed and tried to pull away, but the girls held him tighter. Then more stinging slaps, as each of the girls took her turn spanking him. Then harder slaps added to the others, as the boys each got a turn. Finally, the only one left was Kenny.
"Well, Sissy, I guess we'll see you around." Kenny whacked Tommy several times, harder than any of the others, and then walked away. Some of them laughed as they walked out. Through his tears, Tommy realized that they were all going, that their fun was over. He waited on the stable floor, sobbing, until he knew that they all were gone, and then he got up, rubbing his red, sore bottom. He looked around the barn for his clothes, but they were nowhere to be found, and Tommy knew why they were laughing at the end. He had nothing at all to wear home except the pink playsuit. It was either that or ride home naked, with his red butt high in the air for everyone to see, since there was no way he could possibly sit down. Completely alone and broken, Tommy dressed himself in the playsuit and headed home, certain that everyone in town must be watching him.
The professor was through with the lesson. Somehow, Tommy had written several pages of notes, but he had no idea at all what might be on them. He did know that the earlier familiar feeling was still with him and getting stronger. He needed to go to the bathroom, and soon. Another problem to deal with. He waited until the room was almost empty and stood up, guiltily adjusting his crotch. For a moment, he thought no one could have noticed, but then he knew someone was outside of the window. He only caught a glimpse as she quickly moved away, but he knew instantly that it was the girl from the library. There was no way to catch her, and he had other concerns right now, so he quietly moved out into the campus morning.
Chapter Four : More About Jimmy
Every step was hard for him. Tommy walked slowly, determined not to wet himself, but with each passing moment he began to feel that the accident would be inevitable. He was sure everyone must know both his condition and his predicament.
After enduring taunts of "Sissy" and "Baby" for most of his life, he had looked forward to college far away, a place where finally he could escape his misery. How had things gone so completely wrong?
Dinner on the first night at his aunt's house had been, to say the least, interesting. As Chrissie had told him, Jimmy was fed first. Tommy watched intently as his fifteen year old cousin was strapped into a large high chair, tied into a bib with teddy bears on it, and subjected to having his little sister, Dana, spoon-feed him something that looked like mashed carrots.
"It's her turn tonight," Chrissie said. "We all take turns feeding him. I think Mother would let Dana do it all the time otherwise; it really humiliates him because she's younger. But I've always told her that I really want to, so she lets me. I don't, really, but I can't stand to add to his misery."
Tommy was beginning to understand that Chrissie was a special person, and he found himself attracted to her more and more. She didn't act like the beautiful girls he had known in school. She was sweet, sensitive, and thoughtful. He found himself almost admiring his cousin. Somehow, though, he felt that it would almost be worse for Jimmy to be babied by Chrissie than by Dana. Dana teased him and reminded him of the fact that he was fifteen and in diapers. Chrissie, in her effort to be nice to her brother, seemed to take her role more matter-of-factly. In changing him and feeding him and watching him with no taunting, she was responding to him not as a fifteen year old at all, but as if he were really a baby.
Jimmy's dinner was almost finished; Dana was cleaning him up. It appeared to Tommy that the boy was not allowed to do anything for himself during the meal; this seemed to be the rule. Jimmy sat there passively and Dana did everything for him.
"Why does he just take it like that?" he asked Chrissie.
"There's nothing he can do, and he knows it," she responded. "He tried to fight it when Mother first put him into the diapers, but he found out quickly that she meant business."
"What do you mean?"
"It didn't take long for everyone in school to realize that Jimmy was diapered; I mean his pants were so thick, and it always humiliated him. Especially when his diapers leaked between his legs after he was wet, because he wasn't allowed to change them himself. After a week or two, everyone knew; they all started teasing him, and he came home one day fighting mad. He tore off the diapers, yelling at Mother that she couldn't do this to him any more."
"Mother didn't yell back; she didn't argue. Jimmy didn't have any underwear, so he just put his pants back on without anything at all under them. He stayed that way all day long. That night, when he had fallen asleep, Mother went into his room. She tied his hands to the bed and then woke him up. Dana and I were in the next room, but we heard it all. She told him that he would never speak to her that way again or even think about disobeying her. Then she spanked him on his bare bottom; we could hear the slaps. He couldn't escape, and he screamed and cried for her to stop. Finally, she did. We heard him whimpering as she put new diapers on him.
Mother didn't untie Jimmy until morning, and he was very wet. When she changed his diaper, she did something else: while she was cleaning him, she slipped a suppository up his rear, giving him a small slap at the same time, a "reminder," she said, of what would happen if he ever took his own diapers off again. A couple of hours later, in math class, the suppository took effect. Jimmy couldn't hold it, and he just exploded into his diaper. He had to sit in the mess the rest of the day. Of course everyone knew. He hasn't so much as protested since."
Tommy turned into a wooded area near the main footpath. His bladder was about at the breaking point. He had read somewhere that a famous astronomer had actually died from holding his bladder: he held it back rather than get up from a king's banquet, and the thing burst. That's about what his felt like. There was no way to avoid the inevitable end of this struggle. Alone, he stopped beneath an oak and relaxed.
He felt the warm flow, as he had many times before. It seemed to take hours. When at last it stopped coming, he allowed himself to look down.
As wet as he knew he was, he looked dry from the outside. He blushed both at the wetness and the dryness. As he walked slowly on toward his next class, his very full diaper oozed between his legs.
Chapter Five: Baby Tommy
It had happened on the third night at his aunt's house. Tommy had tried everything he could to stay dry. He went to the bathroom far more frequently than he needed to. He hardly drank anything at all. He even set his alarm to go off (quietly) in the middle of the night, so he could empty his bladder before any kind of accident could occur.
From long history, though, he knew he would not get away with it for long. So when he awakened soaking wet on the third night, he was prepared. He had stashed some dry underwear and a towel in his nightstand; he would dry himself off, change his underwear, and put the towel beneath him for the night. The bed would dry during the day.
It all might have worked well, except for one thing. Tommy had not counted on the fact that Aunt Julia had placed one of those bed wetter alarms under his sheets. At first, he thought it was his own alarm, and in his confusion tried to turn it off. All he succeeded in doing was setting that alarm off too. As he danced around on his wet bed trying desperately to quiet the noise, the door opened. In the hall before him stood Aunt Julia, with Dana and Chrissie right behind her. Tommy knelt quietly on his bed, his soaked underwear and drenched sheets in plain view.
Aunt Julia walked over to the bed, reached down and found a switch, turning off the alarm. Then, without looking at Tommy or even acknowledging him, she reached past him and turned off the clock alarm as well. Then she turned back to the door.
"Chrissie," she said, "get me the things stacked on Jimmy's dresser."
Chrissie looked solemnly at Tommy, then left the room without a sound. Dana stood there, suppressing a giggle.
Tommy's confusion was dying down, but he could not tell what to expect. Aunt Julia did not seem upset or even surprised. He knew that he had not wanted this to happen, but now that it had he wished she would betray some kind of reaction.
He did not have to wait very long.
"Tommy," she said in a flat voice, "you should be ashamed of yourself."
"It was an accident," he stammered. "It won't happen again; it must have been something I ate."
She looked cross. "Don't ever lie to me, young man. You know as well as I that this is not the first time, and it will not be the last."
Tommy stared at her, unable to respond. How could she have known? Just at that moment, Chrissie appeared in the doorway with a pile in her hands. Tommy saw thick cloth diapers, large plastic pants, some kind of clothing, baby wipes, and diaper pins.
"Mother," she started to say, "Is this really necess…?"
"Yes." Aunt Julia cut her off, her voice deep and final. "This is what happens when people behave like babies." She turned to her nephew. "Tommy, when you came here, you agreed to live by the rules of this household. One of those rules, you must understand, is that we do not tolerate this kind of behaviour."
Tommy tried to interrupt. "I know, Aunt Julia, and I'm sor…"
"Sorry will not do it, Tommy. Young men who wet their beds are just overgrown babies, and they will be treated that way as long as they are in my house. Chrissie?"
She turned to her daughter, who grudgingly gave up the pile in her hands.
"Now," she said to Tommy, "take off those wet pants. Dana, you change the sheets. And put on the rubber one; your cousin evidently needs it."
Tommy stood there, unsure of what to do. He knew that he did not wish to take off his underwear with his two female cousins in the room.
"Now!" his aunt insisted. And Tommy began slowly slipping the wet underwear down his legs, acutely aware of Dana's smirking face as she pulled the rubber sheet onto the bed, and appalled by the thought of Chrissie seeing him in this humiliation.
His aunt took his underwear out of the room, leaving him standing, naked, next to the bed that his thirteen-year-old cousin was remaking as a baby's. Chrissie had not left the doorway. Aunt Julia reappeared as Dana pulled the draw sheet tight over the rubber one. Tommy blushed even more than he was already to note that the draw sheet Dana was using had little pink and purple bows on it.
"Lie down," Aunt Julia demanded. Tommy obediently stumbled onto the bed, feeling the too-familiar rubber sheet beneath the regular one. "Dana, get me the powder."
His aunt began to wipe his crotch with a few of the baby wipes. She then instructed him to lift his legs, which he did, not knowing what else he could do. She slid several thick cotton diapers under him. Dana returned with the powder, handed it to her mother, and waited.
"Do you want to do it?" Aunt Julia asked. Dana immediately shook her head yes. Chrissie, in the doorway, started to protest, but was quickly quieted by a glance from her mother. Dana took the powder back and shook some over Tommy's groin and rear, rubbing it in carefully. She smiled at her cousin.
"We don't want you to get a diaper rash, Tommy," she said.
This was too much for Tommy. Tears that had somehow failed to come before now flooded his face. He began sobbing and pleading.
"Please," he cried, "I'll do anything you want. Anything. Please don't do this. Please!"
Aunt Julia pulled the diaper up around his waist and held it there as Dana pinned it together with two pins shaped like yellow duckies. As she pulled the lace-fringed plastic panties up over the diapers, she said calmly, "Babies who wet their beds need to be in diapers."
She gave Tommy a pat on his thickly padded rear. "There, I think you'll be fine. Now, put this on."
Tommy stared at the clothing she was giving him; slowly he realized that it was an oversized cotton nightie in a style like a little girl might wear. He sobbed again, looking to Chrissie in the doorway for any help she could give. She turned her head. Unable to do anything else, Tommy drew the soft garment over his head and let it drape around his legs. His aunt looked at him in silence for a moment. Finally, she spoke. "I can hardly believe that I am going to have to deal with two babies. Now go back to sleep; we'll take care of you in the morning."
Aunt Julia and Dana left the room, turning off the light. Chrissie lingered a moment in the open doorway, then left, wordlessly, closing the door behind her.
Tommy lay in the dark, feeling the bulk of the diapers between his legs. He sobbed quietly, unsure whether the diapers themselves and the little pink nightie were more embarrassing or the fact that Chrissie had seen it all. In a little more than twenty minutes, he had been reduced to the same condition as his babified cousin Jimmy. The panties even had lace on them. He cried some more, remembering Dana's smirk and her remark about diaper rash.
Well, he determined, there will not ever be two babies in this house. This is the first night and the last. I'll never wet the bed again if I have to stay awake all night from now on! Slowly, though, he allowed himself to drift back to sleep.
Chapter Six: Morning Mistake
In the morning, Tommy awoke to discover that he was dry. Quietly saying a prayer of thanks, he slipped free of the diaper and panties and went off to the shower, hoping to clean himself off, have breakfast, and go off to his classes before anyone else got up.
After one of the fastest showers of his life, he towelled off and headed back to his room. Quickly he got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen to grab a bagel or something. He was staring into an open cabinet when a sound behind him made him jump; he turned and saw Aunt Julia standing in the doorway, holding a diaper.
"What is this?" she asked almost emotionlessly.
He didn't know what to say. "It… uh… looks like a diaper."
His aunt frowned. "Yes, it does, doesn't it?" She moved slowly in his direction; there was suddenly something menacing about her. "Do you know where I found it?"
Tommy had a good guess, and he thought he would be better off if he said it than if he pretended not to know.
"In my room?"
His aunt laid the diaper on a counter. "Yes, Tommy, in your room. May I assume that this is the diaper that I pinned onto you last night?"
"Yes, Aunt Julia," he said, "I took it off to shower because, as you can see, I was dry this morning, and… "
"I told you not to remove it, didn't I?" she asked, cutting him off.
Her tone was becoming less and less friendly, and angrier. He felt suddenly guilty of something, but he wasn't sure what.
"Yes, Aunt Julia, but…"
"There are not 'but's,' Tommy. I told you not to remove it, and you deliberately removed it! Isn't that true?"
"I didn't think…"
"Isn't that true?" she repeated, and she stood waiting for an answer. Tommy realized that he could not escape this. He wilted.
"Yes," he said quietly.
Aunt Julia's expression softened a bit, and Tommy allowed himself a fleeting thought that perhaps all would be well after all, but it lasted only a moment.
"Tommy, I don't think you understood me last night," his aunt began. "Babies who wet their beds do not change their own diapers, they do not bathe or dress themselves, and they most certainly do not wear big boy underwear."
Tommy felt suddenly self-conscious, recalling Chrissie's face in the doorway and Dana's condescending tone. "I'm not a baby!" he protested.
"Did you wet your bed?"
He knew better than to try to argue. "Yes."
"Then you are a baby. Or do you know of many adults who do that?"
Tommy had no answer to that. He stood there, waiting for her to make the next move, dreading what it might be. She sat down in a chair by the breakfast counter.
"Take off those clothes," she said.
Sheepishly, he pulled down his pants and removed them, revealing his green undershorts. One quick glance told him that he wouldn't get away with that, and he slowly dropped them to the floor.
"Come here," she said firmly.
As slowly as he could move, Tommy walked toward his aunt. When he got near her, she reached out quickly and, in one deft move, had him lying face down over her lap. Before he could even react, the first crack struck him.
"Ow!" he wailed, flinching from the pain. She was using a spoon or a spatula or something; he couldn't see it, but it hurt. He tried to pull away, but she was holding him tightly; undoubtedly she had practiced this manoeuvre many times on Jimmy.
She continued to speak as she spanked him. "Don't you ever forget that you are living in my house, little boy. In my house, I am used to being obeyed."
Tommy's tears streamed down his face, and he screamed with every whack.
"Do not ever let me discover that you have disobeyed again, or your punishment will be much worse than a little spanking, I assure you."
He felt himself released, and rolled, crying, to the floor. This was a "little" spanking? He had not been spanked like this since he was a small boy.
"Now lie down. On the floor."
His throbbing buttocks told him he couldn't win, and he obediently laid himself down on the cold floor, shivering as he made contact. His eyes glanced up at his aunt as she replaced a large paddle on a hook near the sink. It looked as if it would hurt just about as much as it did. Aunt Julia instructed him to raise his legs, as she had last night, and he found himself being pinned back into the diapers. As she was finishing the second pin, Tommy saw Dana come into the room. She looked surprised only for a second.
"Changing the baby, Mom?" she asked.
He blushed; this was too much. Before he could say anything, though, Aunt Julia responded. "Little Tommy here apparently forgot that he was only a baby, and he has been thoroughly spanked for it. Please get me his plastic pants, Dana."
Tommy lay on his back, too embarrassed to move. Dana returned quickly with the same lacy panties he had worn to bed, and knelt beside him.
"It's all right," his thirteen-year-old cousin cooed. "This is just to help keep you nice and dry."
She slid the panties over his legs and tucked them carefully over his diapers. Then she and Aunt Julia pulled up his pants, and his aunt told him to get up.
"You'll be late if you don't get going," she said.
Surely she didn't mean for him to go out on the campus in diapers! Tommy looked down at his padded body; everyone would know, he thought. They'd have to know.
He pleaded with his aunt. "Aunt Julia, please don't do this. I'm eighteen years old, and I'm in college. I shouldn't be put back in diapers!"
She looked at him with that same emotionless expression.
"Yes," she said, "you're right. You shouldn't be wearing diapers. But you shouldn't be wetting the bed either. Now go to your classes, and don't even think of touching those diapers."
Tommy slipped out the door and into the early morning air. His diapers were so thick that he felt as if he was waddling. People were looking at him, he felt. People could see; they'd know. Everyone on campus would know that Tommy was wearing diapers.
How things had changed so quickly, he thought. He had come here to escape the taunting, and now his life was worse than ever. And it had all happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Tommy walked slowly back to the main path, his soaked diaper squishing between his legs. He needed a change badly, but his aunt had said not to dare. Resigned, he moved in the direction of her house, hoping she would be there.
Chapter Seven: Chrissie
"Aunt Julia?" he called, as he entered the house. "Aunt Julia?"
Chrissie walked into the room. "There's no one home but me," she said. "Dana is still at school, and Mom went to pick up Jimmy; I think she was going to take him to the park." She paused. "Sometimes she takes him there to play." Another pause. "You know, with the other babies."
Tommy had not expected this. He had assumed that Aunt Julia would be home and that she would be able to change his diapers. And the more he heard about how she punished her own son, the more he was certain he did not want to cross her in any way. But now he was desperate for a change, and he was not sure what to do.
His cousin watched him for a moment as he stood there, doing and saying nothing. Her eyes sunk to the extra padding he wore, which was now loosely hanging around his crotch. "You're wet, aren't you?" she said, matter-of-factly.
Sheepishly, he nodded. Chrissie was about the last person on earth to whom he wished to confide this information.
"Very wet?" she asked.
He felt his face turning many shades of red. Unable to find words, he simply nodded his head again.
Chrissie took a few quick steps across the room and took him by the hand. "It's all right," she said, "I can change you."
"No!" Tommy pulled away suddenly. Then, because Chrissie had obviously been shocked by the outburst, he added, more softly, "I mean, I'm OK; I can wait for Aunt Julia."
A smile briefly crossed Chrissie's face, but she swallowed it. Tenderly, she said, "You're embarrassed, I know; I can't expect you to be anything else. But you're soaked; I mean it's leaking through your pants. You really need a change."
For the first time, Tommy became aware of the wet spots that were growing on his jeans. They started just below the diaper's leg openings and spread out and up on his upper thighs; the plastic pants were certainly leaking. He thought about all of the people he had passed on the path from the campus; every one of them must have seen it too.
Chrissie must have been reading his mind. "It's OK; I'm sure no one else noticed. But we've got to get you out of those wet pants."
Tommy held his ground. "I--I can't," he said.
Chrissie smiled again, more gently and intentionally this time. She knew exactly what he was feeling, he was sure, but it didn't change anything. He couldn't go with her; he could deal with it from Aunt Julia, but not from Chrissie.
"Come on, Tommy," she said, trying again to take him by the hand. The movement felt exactly like an older sister pulling at her small brother's arm. "Mom will be furious if you get the furniture wet, and I'm not even sure what she'd do then. You've got to let me do this."
Tommy felt the tears welling up in his eyes again. His cousin saw them, and stopped her tugging. She reached up and dried his eyes with her fingers; he felt the softness of her hand on his skin. She looked sweetly and gently into his eyes, her firm hand preventing him from looking at the ground.
"Come on, Tommy," she said again, "it's all right."
He shook his head slowly, his tears rolling down his cheeks. "No," he said; "I'll wait."
She stood for a long time, as if debating something. Finally, she spoke. "Tommy, I've got to tell you something. After you left this morning, Mom had a talk with Dana and me. She said she does not want to be responsible for taking care of two babies."
Tommy blushed deeply at the word. She continued. "She said she has already got her hands full with Jimmy. She told us--she told us that we were in charge of you."
"What?" he cried, unsure of how to react. His mind whirled with thoughts of Dana's laughter and her comments while he was being diapered. He did not like the idea of his younger cousins being "in charge" of him, whatever it might mean.
Chrissie saw his confusion. "That's what she said, Tommy. And Dana started right away with plans for taking you and Jimmy both to the park, and even setting up a playpen in the yard when it is warm." She paused. "Dana thinks it's all a big joke, Tommy. But I want to try to make you as comfortable as possible. Won't you let me?"
He stood there, frozen, his sobbing growing more audible.
"Or," she said, "you can wait a little bit longer, and Dana will be home. I don't think she'll be as nice about it."
Almost imperceptibly, Tommy nodded, and through his tears he watched as Chrissie turned to go upstairs. "Come with me," she said.
They walked together up the stairs, and Tommy was surprised to see her turn to the right instead of left toward his room.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
She reached her hand toward Jimmy's door. "Mom moved your things in here during the day," she said quietly. "She said you ought to be with Jimmy in the nursery."
The nursery! Tommy stood in amazement as the door swung open, revealing what probably was the largest bedroom in the house. Facing each other, on opposite walls, were what appeared to be two oversized cribs. A second, closer look revealed them to be converted youth-sized bed; where Aunt Julia could have gotten them, he couldn't figure out. And how she had gotten a second one on such short notice-- Then he remembered the alarm under his sheets.
He turned to Chrissie. "She knew all along, didn't she?"
"Yes, Tommy. We all did. Mom prepared us for last night the first day we heard you were coming. Dana was really eager, Jimmy didn't seem to care at all, and I--I hoped that it wouldn't happen. When you got through the first couple of nights dry, I thought maybe Mom had been mistaken, but…"
Her voice trailed off, and Tommy began to realize the full extent of his fate. He looked around the room again. It was equipped with a low-lying, adult sized changing table complete with large stacks of diapers and plastic pants. There were baby toys in the cribs, and bottles on a shelf in the corner. Above them, another shelf full of stuffed animals smiled down at him.
Chrissie motioned him in. "Hurry up," she said. "Dana will be home any minute."
He climbed onto the changing table and lay down. Deftly, as one who has done this kind of thing before, Chrissie slid the plastic pants down his legs and off. She reached for the diaper pin; Tommy instinctively shied away. Firmly, she held him still while she undid the pin, removed the diaper and dropped it into a large diaper pail that he had not noticed before. He blushed even more when he noticed that it was one of two in the room, and it had his name stencilled onto its side. "Baby Tommy," it said.
Chrissie grabbed a new diaper from the stack and slid it beneath him. She wiped him off with baby wipes from a dispenser at the end of the table, pulled the new diaper up between his legs, and pinned it on. He saw that the pins had little balloons on them. She took out a new pair of plastic pants, green ones with no lace, and slid them onto his diapers, making sure that the leg openings were watertight.
"That ought to hold you," she said. "Let's go back downstairs."
Tommy balked. "What about my pants?" he asked.
Chrissie paused enough to make him sure he was not going to like the answer. "Mom said that, for the first two weeks at least, you are not to wear anything over your diapers in the house. She wants you to get used to them. I'd let you wear them, Tommy, but Dana will be home, and--"
"Why are you so concerned about her, Chrissie?" he asked. "I mean, you are older than she is. Can't you control her?"
Chrissie looked at her cousin, his body wrapped ridiculously in thick diapers, and only a t-shirt hanging loosely over them.
"Not in this, Tommy. I said that Mom had placed us in charge of you. That's not quite true."
"She said that I couldn't be trusted to treat you properly. She said I am getting too sensitive, that my reluctance doesn't help babies to grow up and become toilet trained."
Tommy winced again; the vocabulary here was getting really hard to take. Chrissie continued, "I'm only in charge when Dana is not home. Mom said that Dana is to be in charge of you while you are here. Dana will be your babysitter when she is home."
Tommy stared, aghast, and listened with Chrissie as the front door opened and his youngest cousin, now his babysitter, came home from school.
Chapter Eight : Dana
"Where is everyone?" Dana called from the kitchen. Tommy and Chrissie could hear the refrigerator door open and close.
"Chrissie? Jimmy? Tommy?"
She came out into the foyer just as they were descending the stairs. Chrissie came down first, followed by her cousin. Tommy's green plastic pants puffed out below his t-shirt; he wore nothing else. Dana looked up at him.
"Don't you look adorable!" she said in a baby-talk voice. "Those panties are so cute on you!"
Chrissie stopped in front of her sister. "Don't do it, Dana," she said. "He's embarrassed enough."
"You've got nothing to say about it," her sister answered. "Mom put me in charge of Tommy, not you."
Tommy stood on the stairs, listening to the argument. He was older than either of them, yet there they stood, debating which of them should be his babysitter. And the outfit he was wearing made their argument seem completely appropriate. His face grew redder by the minute.
Dana continued, "Just stay out of my way, Chrissie. I swear, if you interfere, I'll let Mom know, and you know what will happen then."
Chrissie looked away silently. There was a very slight blush on her cheek. She looked back at Dana. "Just try to be sensitive," she said, and walked away, leaving Dana and Tommy alone.
Dana looked up at her cousin, who was still standing frozen on the stair.
"Come on down, Tommy," she said. "Look what I've got for you."
For the first time, he noticed what she held in her hand: a large pink baby bottle. She held it out toward him. "I made you some nice juice," she said.
Tommy stared at Dana, her sweet-looking pubescent frame standing at the foot of the stairs holding a baby bottle for him to drink from. She was little more than a baby herself, he thought. Then he thought that this was going way too far.
"I'm not going to take that," he said.
"I said I'm not going to take that, Dana. I'm not a baby. I'm older than you are, and you can't order me around."
She stood quietly for a moment, her hand still outstretched with the bottle. Slowly, she lowered it, and walked off into the kitchen. Tommy couldn't believe it. For the first time since he had arrived, it seemed, he had actually won a standoff with someone in this house. Elated, he bounded down the stairs and into the living room to find Chrissie and tell her.
She had turned on the television and was sitting on the couch when he came in. He sat down beside her.
"I think it will be OK," he said.
"I told her off," he replied.
"You did what?"
"I told her off. I told her that I wasn't going to be babysat by someone five years younger than I am."
Tommy's smile began to melt as he realized that, for some reason, Chrissie did not share his elation.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"You shouldn't have done that, Tommy," she responded. "I'm afraid you might have made it worse."
Suddenly, Dana walked into the room. Tommy's eyes rooted immediately to the paddle she was carrying in her hand. She walked quickly to the couch; there was nowhere for him to go. Still, he thought, she's only thirteen and much smaller than I am; there's no way she can spank me.
Dana stopped within reach of Tommy. She looked sternly at him, then turned to her sister.
"Hold him," she ordered.
Chrissie hesitated only a second, then firmly grabbed onto Tommy and flipped him over onto his belly. He was too startled to offer resistance, and quickly she had him pinned.
"Chrissie" he cried.
"I'm sorry, Tommy," she said, looking away.
Dana knelt over him. "I'm sorry, too, Tommy, but you need to learn, as Chrissie already knows, that Mom's word is the final authority here."
Tommy felt his diapers and plastic pants come off, and then the crack of the paddle as it exploded on his rear. He cried out in pain; if anything, it was worse than the spanking he had received from Aunt Julia in the morning. Again and again, Dana smacked him, until he was convulsing with tears and sobbing uncontrollably. It took him several seconds to realize she had stopped.
His diapers were gently being pinned back on, and he saw through his tears that Dana was doing the pinning. She slid the plastic pants up his legs, as she had done in the morning. Then she sat next to him on the couch and very sweetly placed his tear- stained head in her lap. She held up the bottle again; as soon as he saw it, he began sobbing again, but he knew he had no choice. He took the offered nipple into his mouth and began to suck.
Chrissie got up from the couch and slowly left the room. Tommy saw her stop at the doorway and look at the picture she had left behind: her little sister holding a baby bottle for her older cousin, dressed only in diapers, to suck on. She shook her head and walked away.
Dana softly sang some kind of lullaby. Tommy finished the bottle, and she let him sit up.
"Do you understand, little Tommy, that I am your babysitter?" she asked.
"Good," she said. "I'll be very good to you as long as you obey me. But if we have any more trouble, I won't be as nice next time."
Tommy felt the burning on his buttocks, and he knew there would be no next time. This was to be his life from now on.
Chapter Nine: A Walk in the Park
Dana stroked his head gently.
"Now, Baby, I think we need to get you a bit of sunshine. Let's go see if we can find Mom and Jimmy; they must have gone to the park again."
Tommy stopped his rhythmic sucking, and looked up at his cousin with suddenly frightened eyes.
"No, Dana, please," he sputtered. "Let's just stay here."
She smiled. "Silly baby," she said. "You should know that being all cooped up inside isn't good for you."
She lifted his head from her lap, and gently wiped off his mouth. Tommy submitted meekly.
"Now, get up, little boy; we really need to get going if we are to find them."
She pushed him aside and went out into the foyer. Tommy sat rigidly on the couch, terrified of what was about to happen. It was one thing to wear diapers under his clothes while otherwise occupied with the daily routine of a college student; it was quite another to be taken for a walk to the park by his thirteen-year-old babysitter.
"Come on, Tommy!" she called from the hall.
He felt himself rise from the couch and started slowly walking out of the room. Dana stood in the doorway, holding a pair of pants and a light jacket.
"Here," she said. "You'll need these; it's getting a bit cool out there."
Grateful that she did not intend for him to go to the park in his green plastic pants, he quickly slid into the clothes she offered him, and followed her out thought he door. He had been out all day in diapers, but this felt completely different; Tommy felt that everyone would have to know this time.
Dana reached over and took his hand, and he instinctively shied away.
"Come on, Tommy," she said. "Babies can't walk down the street unless they are holding hands with someone. Now take my hand right now."
He felt the burning in his buttocks, and knew what would happen if he disobeyed. His fingers slowly curled about hers.
"That's better." They started walking down the street toward the park. Tommy felt the stares of everyone who passed them by, and he knew without looking that each of them was stopping or looking back at him after he had passed, incredulous at the big baby who was being taken to the park on a September afternoon. A little girl, no more than three, smiled at him as he passed her; perhaps, he thought, she sensed a kindred spirit.
"Ah, here we are." Tommy realized that they had reached the park. A quick glance around told him that it was not very full; there were some kids playing basketball at the other end, and a few people sitting on benches reading, and, at this end, a small playground. He thanked whatever was left of his good fortune that this was a town park; townies and college students rarely mixed, so he was very unlikely to run into classmates here.
A voice from across the playground called out, "Dana, honey, we're over here."
He saw Aunt Julia sitting at a bench with a book. In front of her, sitting in the sand, was Jimmy. He was digging with a group of children, helping them to build castles. Tommy was led over to them. Dana and her mother exchanged hellos, and his aunt looked at him closely.
"I see little Tommy came out to play with his cousin," she said, pointedly. "Go play in the sandbox, dear, while Dana and I have a nice chat."
Tommy stood momentarily still, but sharp memories of earlier in the day told him what he had to do, and he sat down next to Jimmy in the sand. The cousins did not look at each other for quite a while. The other children left them alone, and they simply sat there, silently scratching in the sand. Finally, Jimmy spoke.
"I'm sorry she got you, too," he said.
Tommy looked up and clearly saw his cousin for the first time. Jimmy was wearing red pants, which Tommy could see had snaps at the crotch. His shirt was flannel, with a subtle pattern in it, which was hard at first to ascertain, but which turned out to be teddy bears. He had a light yellow jacket over it, but it was open. Tommy looked at his own clothes, which were perfectly normal except for the bulge beneath the pants, and wondered whether he too would suffer the same fate.
"Jimmy," cried his aunt's voice behind him. "Come here, honey; let me check to see if you need a change."
His cousin rose and left the sandbox. My God, Tommy thought, surely not right here, right in the middle of the park. But his aunt slipped her fingers into Jimmy's waistband and shook her head. "Oh dear," she said. "We have been out here quite a while, haven't we?"
She motioned to the bench, and, blushing, he lay down upon it. Tommy watched as she unsnapped his pants and pulled down his pink plastic pants. She unpinned the wet diaper, powdered him, and quickly pinned on a new one. Then she pulled up the plastic pants and resnapped the red outer ones, sending him back to the sand. As Jimmy sat down again, Tommy saw the tears in his eyes.
"Tommy, it's your turn," he heard his aunt call. His face blushed deeply, but he knew he was dry, so it was not going to be a problem. Still, he saw the eyes of the little children at the other side of the playground, which had watched the spectacle of Jimmy being changed, now fall upon him as his aunt slipped her fingers into the bands of his diaper.
"You're fine," she announced, patting his rear. "Go back and play for a while."
Silently, because neither of them knew what to say, Jimmy and Tommy sat digging in the sand. Finally, mercifully, Dana called to them that it was time to go home.
As they left the park, Tommy thought he recognized someone lurking over by the swings. A familiar pastel sweater caught his eye, but then disappeared into a group of young kids. It was her; he knew it. She was there. She had seen; she knew. But who was she, and why was she watching him?
Chapter Ten: Going Home
Tommy walked toward home, his hand firmly held by Dana, his mind focused on the mysterious girl. As he walked, though, he became aware something new, an urging from his bowels which was, at first, simply annoying, but with each step grew in urgency.
Still several blocks from home, he suddenly knew with horror that he would never make it. He tried to slow his pace but Dana kept pulling him forward. Finally, he simply stopped.
"Come on, Tommy," she said. "We've got to get home."
Aunt Julia and Jimmy turned to look at him. His face was tear-stained.
"Dana, I've got to get to a bathroom, and I don't know if I can make it."
She let go of his hand. "Babies don't use bathrooms, Tommy. You know the rules."
He clenched his legs tightly together. "This isn't funny, Dana," he said. "I've got to--" He fought for the words. "I've got to shit badly."
Her face turned harsh, and he immediately corrected himself. "I mean I've got to go pooh-pooh." She smiled at the correction, and looked at her mother, but said nothing. Suddenly, Tommy's body was wrenched by a terrible spasm, and he doubled over, his bowels exploding into the diaper. His face reddened with the pressure of the expulsion; he found himself squatting in the middle of the sidewalk, pushing with all of his might against something he could not control. Then, just as suddenly as it had come on, the pains stopped, and Tommy stopped pushing.
He could not believe what had just happened. He had wet himself all of his life, but nothing like this had ever happened before. He felt the weight of the messy diaper dangling between his legs. He wanted to hide; he wanted to run