Commando Kyle On Diaper Patrol

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Kyle was thrilled to hear that his younger sister, Lisa, would be going off to spend threeweeks with Aunt Betty and Uncle George. It would mean that he could once again play'commando'. Since he had been 6 years old, when he played with a neighbor kid namedStevie who was 3 and who still wore diapers all the time, he had known that there wassomething he couldn't resist about diapers and the concept of being diapered. It wasthen that he realized that he wanted to wear diapers too. He had talked Stevie into takingoff his diapers once so Kyle could try them on, but it wasn't long before Stevie's mothercaught on and put a stop to their friendship. In the intervening 4 years, he found that itwas hard to get access to diapers since he didn't have any other association with smallkids and didn't have an easy way to buy diapers. He tried towels, but they were notrealistic and felt wrong. He put several T-shirts in his underpants and they felt better thantowels, but never soft enough. He tried many sheets of the softest facial tissues andthose were soft enough, but didn't last long and he couldn't wet them.
He had found that Sears catalogues had lots of pictures of diapers, plastic pants, and kids who probably wore diapers, and this became an obsession of sorts and a focusfor his fantasies. He would count how many times the word 'diaper' appeared in acatalogue. He would cut pictures of plastic panties out and paste them on other picturesof kids more his age. Eventually though, he just had to get some real diapers. It was while he was out playing 'commando' one night that his desires were realized. Itwas fun to play 'commando'. He dressed in black, dirtied his face, ran from shadow toshadow and looked for ways to be irritating to adults. One of his personal favorites wasto run up to someone's door, knock loudly on it and then run only twenty feet back andthrow himself to the ground and pretend he was invisible. Naturally, someone who wasinside a bright room would answer, look around, see nothing, and close the door. Thiswas fun for a ten year old and he was good at it, but it was the sneaking around theneighborhood, unnoticed, that he enjoyed the most.
After a fast dash and a hard, rolling landing in the dark grassy spot, Kyle looked up to see a line full of freshly laundered diapers and plastic pants waving in the gentle breeze. Hewas stunned, excited, and overwhelmed with a desire to 'own' several real baby diapersand plastic pants. If he was caught, it would mean extreme embarrassment and some kind of punishment. The embarrassment by his peers would be the worst. He pondered this dilemma for about five minutes, then something deep inside of him took control. He did the combat crawl, rolled and ended up near a shrub that would be his last chance to stop. In the end it was ridiculous to think he could have done anything else. He had wanted real diapers ever since he had found himself alone in a laundromat and had played with some diapers from a dryer that had just stopped, when he was eight.
He stopped for a moment inside the wafting storehouse of babyhood and was overcomewith exhilaration. Here in his grasp were several dozen diapers and many plastic pantsand he had wanted this for so long. There were so many and they were so fresh. Thenrealizing his danger, he yanked three diapers off the line and also pulled the largest pairof plastic pants off with them. Not stopping to look around, he bolted for the shadowsagain. Blocks from his apartment, where he lived with his divorced and alcoholic mother, and his eight year old sister, he was thrilled to have his own diapers and veryafraid that he had been seen. He finally made it to his building and quickly took refuge insome shrubs in a corner. He had to make sure the coast was clear so he stuffed thediapers into the plastic pants and pushed them deep into the greenery. He went inside tofind his mother asleep on the sofa and obviously not rousable. In minutes he had quietlygone back out, stuffed his booty into a paper bag and bee-lined for his room. Hisexhilaration was at its peak as he lied out the real diapers on his bed and fondled theplastic pants. He was in a frenzy to find two safety pins and vowed to buy real diaper pinssoon. At last, after search high and low, he had found two large safety pins and retreatedto his room and his passion. He quickly yanked of his now grassy shirt and pants andthrew himself on his bed after kicking off his sneakers. Laying on his back, he started afantasy that had been in his mind regularly for years.
He fantasized a loving mother, asking him to lift up and pulling off his underpants. Shethen expertly folded two soft diapers and placed them under him. Pulling the soft bundleup between his trembling thighs, he was delirious as the diapers were fastened aroundhis skinny waist. He just lay there in sensual ecstasy before he could contemplate addingthe plastic pants. He rolled around on his bed loving the thickness and the softness and the thought that this was real. Tears from some long repressed sense of missing comfort and safety clouded his eyes. Here he was in real diapers, diapers that had been used many times by some other lucky little kid he didn't even know. Real diapers, placed on that other child by a loving mother who took good care of him. It was wonderful. Then he remembered the plastic pants and realized they were too small. Determined, he had to try anyway but the legs were to tight. He pulled the panty off and cut the leg holes to allowhim to pull them on. Success. After a while he decided to pull on his pajama top and go to bed. His sister was staying with their grandparents and wouldn't be home until later. Thank goodness he had hisown room. He decided to spend the whole night in those diapers and hide them in themorning. He pushed the extra diaper under the sheets, down at this feet. It was an hour ofintense happiness before he drifted off to sleep. He woke early as the sun came into his room and as he came to a sense of panic engulfed him. In the night, who knows when, he had kicked off the sheet. The breeze coming through the window was pushing his bedroom door up against the door jam and then the door would fall back, slightly open. OPEN! He was lying on his bed, his diaper exposed and the door had somehow opened! Had Lisa seen him? Had his mother come in during the night to check on him and found him diapered? He quickly pulled the sheet over himself, pulled off the plastic pants, and unpinned his diaper. Filled with fear and shame, he stuffed all the objects of his fantasies into the paper bag and hid it in his closet. Was this going to be the worst morning of his life?