Back to Basics (Chapter Six)

This has been written for a US audience by a guest writer. Thanks to James for allowing me to publish it on my Patreon.

“Now get lost, Wayne, we have stuff to do,” he said, smacking my behind on the plastic, making a loud noise.

“Man, I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Axel said. 

As I crinkled away to try to find a hiding place to die in, I heard Adam say “We’re not trying to be mean. He wets every night, and if he’s not in diapers the smell gets putrid.”

The Axel incident may have prepared me for an even worse one. Adam had a new girlfriend, Rachel. 

She had already made it clear that she thought I was an infantile geek, and I tried to keep my distance from her, especially when I was in diapers. 

She could be scathing about my wetting and the fact that I still wore diapers. (‘My brother is three and even he doesn’t wet the bed.’) 

One evening Adam was in the process of diapering me when she walked in. The diapers were covering me, but weren’t yet pinned on. 

His cell-phone rang, and I was left lying there like that. I tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing, and I probably wouldn’t have been able to speak anyway.

“Adam, we have to go.” She was looking at me with the look she reserved for the lowest of the low—a pathetic diapered bedwetter. 

She resented the fact that her boyfriend had to ‘baby-sit’ me, as she put it, something which was sort of true, as I was never allowed to be alone, and sometimes this interfered with Adam’s plans. 

Adam was in a deep discussion with his friend Charlie, which didn’t sound like it was about to end soon. He motioned to her.

“Hook him up will you?”

“What?”

“Pin him up him for me, and put him in his plastic pants. I have to talk to Charlie about later.” He went back to his conversation. She didn’t hesitate.

“Have you been powdered?” I couldn’t answer. 

She lifted my diapers and saw that I hadn’t been. Then she grabbed the Johnson & Johnson’s and sprinkled powder all over my front. She repositioned the diapers and pinned them on me, first the left side, then the right. Tight. 

My eyes were closed, but I felt as my feet were inserted into the pair of plastic pants that Adam had selected. I felt them go up my shins and calves, my thighs. They crinkled a lot.

“Lift your butt.” I did as I was told, and she pulled the plastic pants over my diapers. 

I felt her checking at the legs and waist to make sure I was completely covered.

“There. You know, I’ve changed lots of diapers on lots of babies, Wayne, and so far you’re the biggest one.” 

I got off the change table, and on shaky legs slunk out of her sight just as Adam ended his call.

I was standing in the den where my parents were watching TV when Adam and Rachel came in to announce they were going over to Charlie’s.

“Don’t you feel a bit silly being in diapers in front of Adam’s girlfriend?” my Dad asked. 

He never missed a chance to shame me, maybe thinking it would somehow help me stop wetting.

“Um, I guess so,” I answered lamely. He couldn’t possibly know how foolish I felt right then. Adam and Rachel started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” my Dad wanted to know.

“Guess who diapered him?” Adam asked. My parents looked at Rachel quizzically.

“Adam was on the phone, and we were in a hurry. Don’t worry; I’ve changed lots of babies. I know what I’m doing,” Rachel said. I thought my parents would be upset, but they laughed.

“So you were changed by an expert,” my Mom said to me, and they all laughed. “Rachel, we should hire you to baby-sit.” I didn’t know if she was kidding.

Adam’s new girlfriend inspired him to new heights of hygiene, with not very happy results for me. 

I had to have a shower in the mornings, for obvious reasons, but now as often as not I couldn’t get in the bathroom because Adam was suddenly so meticulous about cleanliness. 

That particular problem was solved after I came home with a note for my Mom from Mrs. Collins, my home-room teacher. More than once I had been forced to go to school without showering, and as the day wore on my urine smell became obvious and offensive, not to mention the source of much ridicule from several students, including Kevin Jones and his brain-dead friends from the mall (‘I think Wayne forgot to wear his diapers last night…’) 

But then there was another problem. Adam had been complaining about my doing diaper laundry in the washing machine. He claimed that my diapers left a ‘pee smell’ in the washer, and he didn’t want his clothes to become, as he said, ‘contaminated’. 

He argued and harangued until my Dad cut him off by announcing that from now on I could wash my diapers in the laundry room sink and hang them to dry on the rack that was there. 

This was a pain, of course, and time-consuming, but the fact was that I could never get them as clean as the washing machine, with the result that they always had a slight but unmistakable smell of urine. 

So when I was in my diapers I always smelled of pee and baby powder only sweetened it a little.