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    Grandma's Way Author unknown

    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

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    Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown


    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!

  3. #3

    Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown

    You always have good taste in stories Kita.
    There is hope for the hopeful

    "get me a hose"
    "why?"
    "because I've got a plan that involves a hose"

  4. #4

    Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown

    Kita did you write this
    Lord its hard to be humble when your perfect in everyway I love to just look in the mirror I get better looking each day.

  5. #5
    Her Eminence Diamond Diaper Club
    Kita Sparkles's Avatar
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    Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown

    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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    Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown

    Quote Originally Posted by Kita Sparkles link=topic=4625.msg46041#msg46041 date=1306443662
    EDIT: See Renko's post below

  7. #7
    Administrator 1,000 Post Golden Diaper Club
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    Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown

    Quote Originally Posted by LyleWise link=topic=4625.msg55894#msg55894 date=1375864683
    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

  8. #8

    Re: Grandma's Way Author unknown

    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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