commando_kyle_on_diaper_patrol
COMMANDO KYLE ON DIAPER PATROL
Kyle was thrilled to hear that his younger sister, Lisa, would be going off to spend three
weeks 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 named
Stevie who was 3 and who still wore diapers all the time, he had known that there was
something he couldn't resist about diapers and the concept of being diapered. It was
then that he realized that he wanted to wear diapers too. He had talked Stevie into taking
off his diapers once so Kyle could try them on, but it wasn't long before Stevie's mother
caught on and put a stop to their friendship. In the intervening 4 years, he found that it
was hard to get access to diapers since he didn't have any other association with small
kids and didn't have an easy way to buy diapers. He tried towels, but they were not
realistic and felt wrong. He put several T-shirts in his underpants and they felt better than
towels, but never soft enough. He tried many sheets of the softest facial tissues and
those 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 focus
for his fantasies. He would count how many times the word 'diaper' appeared in a
catalogue. He would cut pictures of plastic panties out and paste them on other pictures
of 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. It
was fun to play 'commando'. He dressed in black, dirtied his face, ran from shadow to
shadow and looked for ways to be irritating to adults. One of his personal favorites was
to run up to someone's door, knock loudly on it and then run only twenty feet back and
throw himself to the ground and pretend he was invisible. Naturally, someone who was
inside a bright room would answer, look around, see nothing, and close the door. This
was fun for a ten year old and he was good at it, but it was the sneaking around the
neighborhood, 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. He
was stunned, excited, and overwhelmed with a desire to 'own' several real baby diapers
and 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 overcome
with exhilaration. Here in his grasp were several dozen diapers and many plastic pants
and he had wanted this for so long. There were so many and they were so fresh. Then
realizing his danger, he yanked three diapers off the line and also pulled the largest pair
of plastic pants off with them. Not stopping to look around, he bolted for the shadows
again. 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 very
afraid that he had been seen. He finally made it to his building and quickly took refuge in
some shrubs in a corner. He had to make sure the coast was clear so he stuffed the
diapers into the plastic pants and pushed them deep into the greenery. He went inside to
find his mother asleep on the sofa and obviously not rousable. In minutes he had quietly
gone back out, stuffed his booty into a paper bag and bee-lined for his room. His
exhilaration was at its peak as he lied out the real diapers on his bed and fondled the
plastic pants. He was in a frenzy to find two safety pins and vowed to buy real diaper pins
soon. At last, after search high and low, he had found two large safety pins and retreated
to his room and his passion. He quickly yanked of his now grassy shirt and pants and
threw himself on his bed after kicking off his sneakers. Laying on his back, he started a
fantasy that had been in his mind regularly for years.
He fantasized a loving mother, asking him to lift up and pulling off his underpants. She
then expertly folded two soft diapers and placed them under him. Pulling the soft bundle
up between his trembling thighs, he was delirious as the diapers were fastened around
his skinny waist. He just lay there in sensual ecstasy before he could contemplate adding
the 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 allow
him 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 his
own room. He decided to spend the whole night in those diapers and hide them in the
morning. He pushed the extra diaper under the sheets, down at this feet. It was an hour of
intense 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?
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