Starting of with a bang!!

Thank you so much for coming over and checking out my Patreon! I'd like to get this started of with a bang, so please enjoy this diaper story I wrote some years ago. Attached is the complete 50 page file. An excerpt can be found below! 

Back to School Chapter 7: Back to School

"Okay kiddo," Daddy said, patting my butt, "you're all ready for school." 

"I can dress myself you know..." 

"Yeah yeah, huffy pants, that's what they all say. Now have a good day, hun. I've packed some extra diapers in your backpack in case you need 'em!"

Sure. I rolled my eyes. Finally, Daddy let me out of the house. He had to – it was the first day of college classes after the long summer break. Of course I looked like I was dressed more for pre-school than college with my Velcro sneakers, my crotch snap shortalls, and my Blue's Clues backpack, but for once, I didn't care. Now was my chance to end this terrible ordeal. I would go up to the first cop or security guard I saw and tell them everything – how I was held against my will and forced to live like a baby under the guise of some university sanctioned experiment. Sure enough, five minutes later I saw my opportunity.

"Officer, help," I said, rushing up to a couple of cops standing by the entrance to the campus. 

"Calm down, son. What seems to be the problem?" 

"I'm a big diaper boy who needs to use his diapers!"  Wait, that wasn't what I meant to say. A stern look crossed the officer's face, but then his eyes widened at the obvious sound of me farting and pooping and filling my diaper. I had suddenly lost all control and was wetting and pooping my diapers uncontrollably!

"My god," said the officer. 

"That's disgusting!" Said his partner. 

“I- I- I-” I stammered, trying to explain myself before I instinctively bent my knees, grunted, and pushed out another log with a fat wet plop. 

"Get out of here, kid, and clean yourself up." 

"Maybe he's special needs," said the second officer in a low voice. 

"No! I'm trying to tell you," I cried. "I just wear them because I'm a big baby and I need my daddy to  change me! Will you change my di-di-diapee?" 

I threw my hands over my mouth shocked as the police began to laugh, and I ran crying to the nearest bathroom. I didn't know what had happened! In the bathroom I found a stall, wiped myself, and changed into a fresh diaper. Being clean made me feel a little better, but the more I calmed down, the more I felt a creeping sense of panic. Something was terribly wrong. I needed to call 911 or something. I pulled out my cellphone and dialed 911. 

"...Hello?" came Daddy's voice. I had dialed the wrong number by accident but how?

“What did you do to me?"

"Is someone being a tattle tale? Ah ah ah! you should know better than that, you naughty boy." 

"You did this to me! Every time I try to tell someone, I make poopies in my diapers and pee-pees too!" 

"Aww...that's cute how you say it." 

My face was burning red at the humiliation of being made to speak baby talk in place of my own words.

"Now listen boy. You will get yourself presentable and go to class, and then you will come straight home for your punishment. Am I understood?" 

"NO," I yelled and hung up the phone. I'd show him. 

After class I went to my friend Donald's room in the dorms and knocked to be let in. "Hey Nick, what's  up? And why are you dressed like that?" 

I guess he was surprised to see me since I hadn't called – or visited all summer for that matter. 

"It's a long story, I need a place to crash tonight. And, if you have it, a change of clothes."

"Sure thing bud. Uh, my clothes are gonna be a little big for you," he said. "Maybe not in the butt,  though..." 

I waved off any attempt to explain myself, and though he was perplexed, eventually he dropped it. But  that night we were woken up by a knock on the door. It was the campus police. 

"Is there a Nick Carson in here?" 

I sat bolt upright at the mention of my name. 

"Yes, officers, he's here with me, why do you ask?"

"We're here to escort him home." 

"NO!” I cried, leaping up, “I'm not going." 

I had kicked off the sleeping bag that was set up on the floor and was prepared for a fight but stopped as the three of them looked at me wide eyed. Donald spoke first... 

"Did you...did you wet yourself?" he asked, incredulous.

I looked down and saw that the clothes I had been sleeping in were soaking wet, as was the floor. I  had thrown out the diaper I'd been wearing earlier, along with my stupid clothes and backpack...

"I... I... this has never..." I stammered. 

"Get out!" he yelled. “And give me back my clothes! I've got to clean up your mess now. Now I know why you were wearing diapers earlier. If you knew this was gonna happen, why did you take them off?" 

"I- I-" I didn't know. “I'm a poopy baby who needs diapers!" I said as I tried to explain myself without thinking. It was then that I felt a lurch once more and to my horror, I was already pooping myself, and soiling his clothes. 

"Ugh! You didn't! You know what, just keep them. And get the fuck out of my room! God..." he said,  running to open a window. 

I was so embarrassed I just picked up my stuff and left without a word. 

"Come on kid, we'll get you cleaned up," said a sympathetic sounding officer, his partner seemed to be smirking at me.

“I told you we should have called his Daddy this morning!” 

Back in my babyish attire, which the officers had gallantly retrieved and dressed me in after rediapering me, I was dropped off at home, where Daddy was waiting.

"Thank you, officers, I was so worried." 

"I'll bet, seems this little tyke wanted to have a sleepover, but he isn't ready for that yet, I guess." 

One of the cops ruffled my hair. 

"Cut it out!" I said. 

"Be nice now," said Daddy, "Thank you officers, I'll take it from here." 

"Good night, sir." 

Damn.

"How did you find me?"

"I have my ways," said Daddy, smirking.

"You don't have the right. I'm 18! I can do what I want!" 

"Au contraire," He replied with a chuckle. "I'm your legal guardian now. I finished the paperwork  while you were at school today."

"I didn't sign any paperwork!" 

"Didn't you?" He picked up a red folder from the side table in the entry way and showed me its  contents. They were photocopies of a form with my signature. It looked like he had lifted it from my  original agreement to participate in this 'simple psychology experiment'. Next to that was the signature of the Doctor, whom we had visited regularly throughout my 'treatment'. 

"And  you won't have to worry about school anymore,” Daddy added, “because I withdrew you from classes permanently.” 

"This is fraud!" I exclaimed, my face hot with rage. “You tricked me!”

"Prove it," He said. "Oh and good luck explaining any of this in court without pooping yourself instead, ha-ha!" 

"You bastard! You did this, somehow!" 

"Yes, now get on upstairs to bed. I'll be coming in shortly to give you your punishment." 

He bolted the door behind him and watched me reluctantly ascend the stairs to the nursery where my crib was waiting. Five minutes later he came in with the mitts, a paddle, and a bottle of milk. He put the mitts on me and set down the milk. He grabbed me roughly, brought me over to the rocking chair, and forced me over his lap, pulling down the back of my diaper. I shivered in the moments leading up to what I knew was to be the worst paddling of my young life.

“You understand why I'm doing this, don't you little one?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I whimpered.

“It's for your own protection. You can't go around trying to be a big boy. You are a baby and that's all there is to it.”

“Yes, Daddy!” I cried.

“Today was your chance to prove you could handle pre-school, and you failed, so it's back to square one. And just in case you think you're EVER going to get out of diapers again, I'm going to show you what happens to little boys who TRY *whack* to *whack* take *whack* them *whack* off *whack* and *whack* tattle *whack* on *whack* Daddy!”

*whack* *whack* *whack* I screamed and wailed, kicked and screamed, but I could not get away from the burning pain of the paddle. I couldn't count how many spanks he had delivered, but eventually he stopped and pulled my diaper back up. As bad as this was, the sad truth is this was just the beginning of my torture. 

Daddy put me in the crib with the side down and told me to drink my baba while he went and got some more stuff. I did what he said and eventually, he came back with the feeding bag which he set up on a standby the changing table. I hated this, but I knew what he was going to do. He was going to make me drink about a gallon of juice before I went to bed to make sure I was nice and wet in the morning. 

"That's right boy, keep sucking," He said, after he'd strapped me into the changing table and had gotten the feeding tube secured in my mouth. He pulled out a razor and a stack of disposable diapers and stuffers and went to work, while I tried to keep up with the flow of the liquid entering my mouth. 

Four layers of diapers is a lot of padding, so much in fact that's it's impossible to stimulate your  penis through all the layers, no matter how hard you rub. Add to that the mitts, and I had no chance of  getting off. I was rock hard thanks to the stimulation of the wet diapers on my penis,  and all I could do was moan in frustration at my predicament. I was awake writhing and humping the slick plastic floor of the crib until dawn, when Daddy came in to check on me. I must have looked miserable ‘cuz I sure felt it. Covered in sweat, my hair all tangled and wet. Daddy lifted me up by the armpits. 

"Look like someone is grumpy," he said, checking my soggy diapers, which were yellow, and practically dripping as they sagged under their own weight. And at just that moment I felt a sudden rush in my bowels and clamped down hard against the cramps. He noticed and his eyes glinted.

"Ahh, yes. Right on time. That milk of magnesia is doing its job, baby boy. Go ahead and fill your  diapers for Daddy!"

I tried my best to clench my butt against the relentless tide but to no avail. With a mighty groan my hole gave way and the contents of my bowels forced their way through, rushing into my  diapers and filling them with hot mess as Daddy held me at arm's length. 

"Peee yoo! Someone is a stinky boy!" he cried, and I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"Aww, my boy is soo cute when he's bashful. You're red as a tomat'er. Hehe, hey remember that movie we saw with the little talking tow truck, tow mater?"

He continued his innocuous banter through the most embarrassing moment of my life as he carried me over to the changing table, setting me down gingerly on my squishy, tender behind. I guess he wanted to wait a bit to make sure everything was out because he kept on talking for a while, and every once in a while, my bowels would release a little more poop into the diaper. After maybe 10 minutes (though it felt like ten hours), he finally laid me back and began untaping my diaper. I wasn't about to fight him this time, I really wanted out!

"That's a good boy!" he said, like you would talk to a puppy. "Who's a good boy? you are! You are," he laughed as he balled up the dirty diaper and tossed it in the diaper pail. Then he tickled me on the  belly and gave me a raspberry causing me to squirt a little uncontrollably. 

"Oh my, making a mess already, are we? See, I told you you needed diapers! Let's get you padded up again before anything else happens!" 

“I'm sorry you had such a hard day yesterday little one, but don't worry. You'll see, you'll grow to love it here. By the time visiting day comes around, your parents won't even recognize the little brat they sent off to college!”

All I could do was cry, knowing that he was right. Daddy was in complete control, and I wasn't going to be a big kid for a very long time.