Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your
contribution is not tax-deductible.)
PayPal Acct: 
Feedback: 
Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):
| [ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 ] |
| Subject: Re: Why were you put back into nappies? | |
|
Author: Rhonae |
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 00:54:24 04/05/16 Tue In reply to: Thomas 's message, "Why were you put back into nappies?" on 14:44:44 08/14/15 Fri I will try to be brief with this but it might be difficult. My Mother and Aunt one summer decided to go on a lengthy road trip in my Aunt's new car. We didn't have a lot of money so we would be camping all the way. I was 13 and my brother was 7. Both of us were small for our age and quite under the control of our strict and over-protective Mother. Auntie was very proud of her new car, including the nice interior, and she kept it immaculate. She asked our Mom if her nephews ever had accidents on car rides. My Mom said not for a long time but admitted that we would be putting in much longer hours in the car than we'd ever done. My Aunt said 'they're still very young and I wouldn't want anything to happen to my upholstery'. Mom agreed and said she'd take care of it. A day or two before we were to set out on our trip Mom called a family meeting, which included our Aunt. Mom told us of Auntie's concern about her car's back seat and it getting stained and smelly with urine. My brother and I insisted that we wouldn't have any accidents in the car. Mom said we couldn't be sure since we'd never traveled that long before. Mom went on to say that in order to cover the distances we would have to stay in the car for long periods of time. She insisted that we couldn't be stopping every so hours to let us relieve ourselves or we wouldn't make enough time to get to our night's camping destination. She said Auntie and her as adults could hold it in for many hours but she expressed doubts that we could. We could tell by our Mother's face that our assurances were not convincing her. She also said she had worries about where we would be going to the bathroom. Often it would be in less than ideal places such as road stops and gas stations. Not only was she concerned about cleanliness and hygiene for us, but that being women, Auntie and her couldn't always go into the washroom with us. In most places she couldn't take us into the ladies room because we were, especially me, too old for that and it would anger some women. She said she couldn't go in the mens room with us and she didn't feel safe letting us go in alone with dirty old men and perverts lurking in there. She couldn't always let us go outside some where either. And even in the camping parks the rest rooms were often a distance from the camp site and she and Auntie would have to accompany us and still they couldn't go inside to make sure we were safe. We could tell our pronouncements that we would be alright were not being heard because Mom had already made up her mind and we knew it. We could only wait and dread what her decision would be. To our horror, she calmly announced that her solution was that my brother and I would have to wear diapers and plastic pants during the whole trip. My Aunt looked relieved and smiled, clapped her hands and whispered 'Yes!" out loud knowing her new car's interior would be safe from her nephews accidents. My brother and I were shocked and opened our mouths to protest, but Mom cut us off abruptly with "I've made my decision, and that's that, I don't want to hear your whining and arguing with me..or else!" My brother and I, from many painful past experiences, didn't want to know the "or else". My brother quickly accepted his fate, but me, being older, wasn't quite ready yet to give up the fight. I protested that as I was older..13 in fact..I should not have to wear diapers for the trip. My Mother said, "No"...she didn't want to take the chance that I might, despite my age, have an accident in my Aunt's car. Besides, she said, the both of you can share this together rather than one being singled out. Foolishly, I continued to argue until my Mother put an end to it by yanking down my shorts and underpants and giving me a good bare bum over her lap spanking right there in the living room with my Aunt and brother watching until I was crying and agreeing with every thing she said. So during the trip my brother and I wore disposable diapers and plastic pants 24/7. A rubber sheet was laid across the back seat and, for added assurance, quilted plastic changing pads were placed on each side for us to sit on. When my Aunt and Mom stopped for a break during the day, if we were wet or soiled, they would lay my brother and I down across the quilted pads in the back seat and change our diapers. It proved convenient for the women, and despite the effort required to keep us in dry diapers and plastic pants, they seemed pleased with not having to bother finding a suitable place for my brother and I to relieve ourselves. This went on for the first week and a bit until one day during a layover at a camp ground, Mom and Auntie sat my brother and I down for a a talk. To our great surprise, they told us that they had been thinking that maybe they shouldn't require us to use diapers on the trip. We were both big boys who didn't wet ourselves anymore and maybe Mom and Auntie would just have to trust that we wouldn't soil our Aunt's upholstery and they would have to put up with the time and trouble of trying to find safe and clean places for us to relieve ourselves. Mother told us it wouldn't be easy and we'd lose a lot of time and she would still worry about us when we went into a washroom alone but she said it was our holiday too and she thought it was only fair that we have the choice of how we were going to spend the rest of our trip. We were surprised, Mom being so understanding after she had made up her mind about something. Mom removed our diapers and plastic pants and replaced them with our shorts and our boys underwear that she had thoughtfully brought with her. Before she turned us loose to play, she told us that she and Auntie still preferred us to wear the diapers for the convenience and protection they offered. They really wished that we would choose the diapers, for our own sake, as well as Mom's and Auntie's. But they were leaving it up to us, they said. Take the afternoon to think about it and decide what you want to do, and then we'll discuss it again at bedtime. You know what Auntie and I want you to do, Mom said, so you just go off and think about what you want. My brother and I were ecstatic, almost a whole day without those dreaded diapers and the shiny, crinkly plastic pants. As we played through the day, sometimes with other kids, including girls my age, which I had begun to notice, and sometimes by ourselves, as it came closer to supper time we began to think about what Mom had told us. Finally, we couldn't put it off anymore and my brother spoke, he said he didn't want to disappoint Mom and Auntie who really seemed to want us to wear the diapers. I said I didn't like disappointing them either, but they said it was our choice and I preferred to feel like a big boy again than a little kid in diapers. My brother said it wasn't so bad wearing the diapers, but I told him that's because he's only 7 while I'm a 13 year old teenager. He again reminded me Mom and Auntie would be disappointed, but I was having none of it. I saw a tear run down his cheek, I knew he wanted to please Mom and agree to the diapers. My brother and I, despite our age difference, had always been close, I hated seeing him sad. Still I told him he could agree to the diapers but that I wasn't going to wear them again. He quietly sobbed on the way back to the campsite and I was feeling worse and worse. He told me he didn't want to wear them by himself and I again told him I wouldn't agree to them. But as I listened to him sobbing as we walked back I felt my resolve begin to weaken and I thought about how I would disappoint my little brother, who looked up to me, as well as my Mother and Aunt. I hated myself for not being tougher. After supper, Mom and Auntie asked us if we'd made up our minds on whether we we wanted to wear diapers on the rest of the trip. Mother looked at my brother and asked what he had decided. He looked at me and I thought he was going to cry...why did he have to do that, I lamented. Finally, he said he'd decided to wear the diapers, that they weren't so bad after all, and he admitted he kind of liked them. He glanced at me with pleading eyes. My heart sank. Mom and Auntie smiled and turned to me. And what have you decided, they asked. As my brother and my mom and Aunt looked at me, expectantly, my strength to say no began to crumble. Finally, impatiently, Mom said, "Well, what's it's going to be?" My head dropped and I shuffled a bit, and then blurted out, "I..I want to wear diapers too". Mom and Auntie grinned and said "that's wonderful...we thought you would say that". Mom added, "It makes it so much easier for everyone". My Aunt nodded in agreement. I believe then that my Mother, feeling like she had given up some of her authority having allowed us to decide for ourselves on one of her decisions, felt like she now had to reassert her control once again. Mom continued, "Now, since you've both decided on your own you want to wear diapers, there'll be no hiding the fact anymore, you'll have your diapers changed whenever and wherever your Aunt and I wish, when it suits us not you, whether you're wet or soiled, it'll be where and when we decide. If you have to wear a wet dirty diaper until we get around to changing you..so be it...you'll have to put up with it". Mother was in her element laying down the law again. Now there was no longer the inconvenience for our Mother and Aunt of crawling around inside the tent in the cramped space to change our diapers in order to shield us from prying eyes. No more fouling the tent with our smelly diapers. In our Mother's mind, now that we had asked to wear diapers, she insisted there would be no more hiding. From then on we were changed in the open air on the picnic table, lying on our plastic quilted changing pads with all our baby powder, baby oil, baby cream spread about in easy reach for our Mother or Aunt to attend to us. And while they were careful not to expose us needlessly, they made no effort to hide what was being done either. Even when teenage girls of babysitting age came around to satisfy their curiosity, Mother made no attempt to shield us from their scrutiny. She talked to them and answered their questions as if she was diapering a toddler instead of a 13 year boy nearly their own age. My embarrassment knew no bounds as I lay on the picnic table on the changing pad while Mother removed my wet diaper, oiled and powdered me, my plastic pants left scrunched and bunched around my ankles for all to see as I had my legs lifted high in the air to fit the new diaper in place and the tabs done up snugly. Finally, she worked the plastic pants back up my legs to the bottom of my diaper, then she would help me down from the picnic table and make me stand before the gaze of the smirking, giggling girls to pull my plastic pants the rest of the way up and over my diaper. Then she would turn me loose in the midst of the teenage girls to go play with my brother, sometimes with a tee shirt on and sometimes with only my puffy plastic pants and diaper. I was always too intimidated to ask for my shirt or my shorts. The girls milled about discussing me among themselves in a way I knew wasn't as a potential boyfriend but more like a toddler they were babysitting. I got used to it and eventually just went and sat in the grass with my brother, identically attired, to play with his trucks and cars while the fascinated teenaged girls watched and snickered. Our vacation and car trip continued with my brother and me full time in diapers and plastic pants and our Mother and Aunt two very happy campers. I apologize for this awful long personal account. I hope it doesn't crash the system. Thank you so much. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
| Subject | Author | Date |
| Re: Why were you put back into nappies? | mikki | 11:57:18 04/05/16 Tue |
|
||