Preschool Training
PRESCHOOL TRAINING
(the first section of this story is true but the rest is all from my imagination)
By the time I was about 3 years old, my mom thought I should be done
with potty training. Mostly I was, except that sometimes, for some
reason, I didn’t always make it to the toilet. My mom held her tongue and put
up with my sometimes-frequent messes until I was 4. Around that time, I
started going to a babysitter named Mrs. Gloria. She kept three
children besides me and she expected nothing less than excellent toileting
skills from each of us.
We were all around the same age but I seemed to be
the only one who could really invoke the wrath of Mrs. Gloria. At least
3 times a week, I would have an accident and it was usually a messy
one. I would try to hide it. I would stay as far away from Mrs. Gloria as
possible, I would try to stay seated or I would lie down and pretend to
be asleep. I used to beg the other children not to tell.
But to be honest, they didn’t have to. She knew all my tricks. Sometimes I think she intentionally let me wallow in my mess for a while before she
acknowledged it. I knew the look that said I was in trouble. She would wait
until we were all in the living room together, stand directly in front of
me and stare at me for a full thirty seconds. Mrs. Gloria would then walk over and sit in her recliner. She would wait for another 30 seconds and then call me over to her.
Everyone in the room would sit and watch in silence as I made my journey to the recliner. When I got there, she would bend me over, pressing one hand on my back. With the other hand, she would pull open the waistbands of my pants and underwear. After she had peered into the back of my pants and confirmed the soiled state of my behind, she would snap the elastic back into place and send one of the other kids after my baby wipes as she took a firm hold on my wrist.
With wipes in hand, she would pull my pants and underwear off and place them on the floor with the contents exposed. She would then take off my shirt and bend me over once again. Without saying a word, she would wipe me clean. When she was satisfied that I was thoughrally clean, she would abruptly jerk me over her knee and spank me rapidly with her hand until I was crying loudly.
At that point, she would stop and send another child to get the hairbrush. I was too fearful of what was coming to be grateful for the 2-minute reprieve. With the hairbrush, she would whack my tender red butt until I stopped crying. I knew that all I had to do to put an end to the spanking was to dry my eyes but for some reason, it always took me at least 5 minutes to stop sniveling.
After one of these episodes, I was sent to face the wall beside the TV. naked until my mom came to pick me up. Sometimes this took hours. During this phase of the punishment, I had to stand on a towel while the other kids watched a movie. Occasionally, Mrs. Gloria would come over and spread my cheeks apart to see if I was pooing again. I was not allowed to move from my spot so of coarse, I often wet the towel.
When this happened, she would come over and wipe me with the baby wipes just as thoughrally as if I had messed myself and then she would spank my thighs until they were as red as my bottom. Apparently, my mother thought this method of punishment equal to the crime. When she would come in to pick me up, she would carry me to the car with a towel pulled up between my legs. She would lecture me all the way home all the while threatening to put me back into diapers. For the rest of the day, I would have to sit on the couch naked with a towel beneath me.
Mom would take me to sit on the toilet every 15 minutes until dad got
home at around 6:30. He would then spank me, put me into bed with no
sheets, only a waterproof cover and turn out the lights. It took me
another year to learn to control my functions. I would still wet the bed once
every couple of months but all I got for those accidents was a spanking
and a lecture. I wouldn’t think about the threat of diapers for quite a
few years. Until…………
My life at 13 seemed to be going just fine. Though I had bad childhood
memories, they didn’t dominate my thoughts in any way. That was before
I realized how suddenly old threats can pop up and take over.
My eighth grade year was halfway over. I was already thinking about
high school. I didn’t realize that day that my past was about to come back
to haunt me. It started in P.E. We were playing basketball and my
stomach began to cramp. I had gas and there was so much noise in the gym
that I decided to just let it out.
It was too late when I noticed the wet feeling in the back of my shorts. I went to the bathroom to acces the damage. It scared me a little as traumatic memories surfaced for a few seconds. But, I decided it wasn’t too bad. I cleaned myself up the best I could and since it was almost time to go home, I put the stained underwear back on under my shorts. At the house, I changed my clothes and put my dirty underwear at the bottom of the garbage can.
The rest of the day went smoothly enough and by the time I went to bed, I had almost forgotten about my accident at school. However, as soon as I woke up I was unpleasantly reminded. My bed and I were soaked. Just as I was peeling back the covers, my mom walked in to wake me up. Initially, she was just surprised that I was already awake. When she noticed the bed, she
stood there staring for a minute before she said anything.
”I can’t believe you pissed the bed.” She made me strip out of my wet underwear and sent me to shower while she took the sheets off the bed. After I was dressed, she made sure I was adequately scolded before sending me off to school. She also said she was going to tell my father as soon as he got home. I was relieved to get out the door and into the fresh air. My head was spinning a little. I was as shocked as mom. I felt ashamed.
My first class helped clear my mind. But in second period, my fears were
renewed. We had a test that day. Once Ms. Bounds started the clock, no one
got out of their seats until she called time. About halfway through the test, I felt my bowels roll. I clenched my cheeks to hold it in. I could just see myself, 4 years old again, standing there naked with a red butt. Flashbacks, or at least something more substantive than memories, flooded through my head.
I was brought back to the present by the warm lump in my pants, pressing against the seat of my chair. No one said anything but I noticed a few people sniffing the air and looking my way. When Ms. Bounds called for us to bring our tests to the front, I quickly untucked my shirt before I got up. I walked as fast as I could without running and tried to blend in with the crowd making its way to the front of the room. As I laid my paper on the desk, I looked at Ms. Bounds and saw that her nose twitched right before she raised her head. I
turned around and just when I thought I had made it safely back to my seat,
I heard my name.
I walked back up to the teacher. She told me to turn around. As I did so, I put my hands behind my back to do what I could to cover the bulge. Immediately, I felt something warm and sticky on my shirt. Ms. Bounds told me to go straight to the principal’s office. When I asked if I could stop by the restroom on the way she said, “On second thought, just stand where you are. The bell is about to ring and I’d like to accompany you to the office. By this time, most of the class had figured out what I’d done. They were all trying to suppress giggles and looks of disgust.
I felt like I was at the babysitter’s waiting for my mom to come and witness my disgrace. Ms.Bounds had a rep. for being strict, so no one said anything as they filed out after the bell. “Why did you mess yourself in my class, young man? Come on, we’re going to call your parents. You can’t stay at school like this.” I knew she didn’t really expect me to answer so I kept my mouth shut. She made me stand beside her as she spoke to my mother on the phone. I blocked out the conversation. I was so scared. Things were happening so fast. I wasn’t sure what to expect but I knew I was in for it.
After Ms. Bounds hung up the phone she said, “Your mother is on her way. She wants you to stand here. She’s coming to pick you up.” I wanted so badly to go wash up. Even though mom already knew I messed myself, her seeing me this way was like her catching my with dirty pants when I was 4. I started crying, not really sobbing, just standing there with tears running down my cheeks. I hated myself for it but I couldn’t help it. Ms. Bounds stayed with me until my mother got there.
Mom came into the office, thanked my teacher, and grabbed my hand firmly. As she led me down the hall, the kids lingering there were a little bolder than they had been in class. They were screwing up their faces and pointing me out to each other. I just tried not to look at them as I continued to cry. When we got to the car, there was a towel on the seat for me to sit on. Mom hadn’t spoken to me so far but she was about to say her piece. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re shitting your pants like a baby and you can’t even keep dry at night. I found your filthy underwear when I was taking out trash today. Well, enjoy the feel of those undies you have on right now because it’s the last pair you’ll wear for a long time.”
I didn’t say anything. Speaking could only make things worse. I knew that she was threatening me with diapers again but I didn’t take it too seriously. I wondered if I would get a spanking. I hadn’t had one in years. My head was so jumbled, I didn’t realize we had stopped until mom opened my door and took my hand to pull me out of the car.
We were in the Wal-Mart parking lot. I couldn’t believe that I was being led through the isles with my underwear full of shit and the back of my shirt smeared brown. She picked up a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt from the boys section then pulled me to the pharmacy. She grabbed a bag of x-large overnight adult fitted briefs and handed them to me. I was almost catatonic at this point. When we got to the counter, Mom took the bag of diapers from my hand and set it on the counter with the clothes.
After she paid, she handed me the diapers and led me through the door to the ladies restroom. She pulled out the changing table from the wall and set the clothes on it. Then she reached down, undid my pants, and pulled them to my ankles. I could feel the lump loosen a little in my crack. Just then, an older lady walked into the restroom. She stared at us for a moment and then began to fix her make-up in the mirror. Mom pulled a diaper out of the pack and paused. “Oh, I forgot the wipes.”
She looked over at the lady, “would you watch him for a minute while I go out there and buy some wipes? He’s way too messy to clean with regular toilet paper. You may need to hold his hand to keep him from touching the mess.” The lady said she’d be happy to watch me. So, there I was, this old lady holding my hand and cooing at me. “Let’s see how dirty that little behind is, I think I have some wet ones in my purse. I bet your mom would appreciate a little help.
It must be exhausting to care for such a cute little big boy all the time.” She lifted my shirt and frowned a little. “You must be training since you have these underwear on. Maybe you’re just not quite ready.” She began to pull open the back of my underwear and I put my hand on the waistband to stop her. “No!” She said as she smacked my thigh. “Don’t touch. I guess I need to start cleaning you up before you spread this mess all over yourself.”
I didn’t know what to do. It was too much to take in already. I was standing in the middle of the ladies restroom at Wal-Mart with only a t-shirt and a loaded pair of undies on. I couldn’t move as the lady slowly pulled down my underwear to contain the mess. She pulled up one foot at a time to take them completely off. She slid them to the side so that I could finally see how bad they were. The entire back from the waistband all the way to the front of the crotch was covered with sticky brown poo. No wonder my shirt was smeared with it.
The lady rummaged through her purse and pulled out a packet of wet
wipes. She took one out and lifted up the front of my shirt. She wiped me down with wet cloth. I thought that when mom came in she would stop this lady. But all she did was thank her for her help and asked her to hold my hands while she finished cleaning me. Two more women came in while they were doing this but both of them went into the stall and left without saying anything.
Mom took off my shirt and laid me down on a changing pad she had purchased with the wipes. She lifted up my butt and slid a huge diaper beneath me. The lady pinched my cheek and left while mom rubbed diaper cream into my groin and up my crack. Then she sprinkled powder between my legs and brought the diaper up. The diaper was so big that she had to fold it down in front. After she fastened the tapes, she stood me up and took the clothes off the changing table.
First, she took the tags off the shirt and pulled it over my head. It barely reached my belly button. Then she slid my legs one at a time into a pair of sweat pants that would have been too small even without a bulky diaper. They only covered half of the diaper. She put the remaining diapers into a pastel Winnie the Pooh diaper bag along with the wipes, cream and powder. She put all of my dirty clothes into the garbage and led me out of the ladies room and into the crowded parking lot.
I was grateful to be in the car and on my way home. I thought I was hallucinating when we pulled up in front of the school building. Mom opened my door and began to pull me toward the office. She sat me down in a chair while she spoke with the secretary. Then she left. A few minutes, later a seventh grade boy I recognized named Jessi walked into the office and up to the secretary’s desk. As they spoke to each other, they glanced in my direction.
This kid was kind of annoying. He had skipped a grade and he thought he knew everything, which made him a teachers pet. When he started walking towards me, I was ready to hit him. I just knew he was coming over to say something smart-ass and I really couldn’t take anymore. But I held my composure when I realized that the secretary was also coming over. “I think you know Jessi. He’s going to be your babysitter for the rest of the day. Now be a good boy for Jessi. He’ll check your diaper every once in a while and
if you need to be changed he’ll bring you to me and I’ll help him clean
you up.
Stand up, we need to put this harness on you so Jessi can make sure you don’t wonder off.” When I stood, she put a baby harness around my chest with a leash attached to the front. She handed the end of it to Jessi. “Jessi, if he gets into anything bring him in here so we can call his mom to come and speak to him.” As we started to leave, Jessi looked beside the chair and said, “Don’t forget your diaper bag.” Humiliated, I grabbed the bag and followed Jessi through the hall to the cafeteria.
Now the whole school would see me all at once. They must have been warned beforehand not to make an issue of me because they mostly just glanced and giggled. When we got to the table, our trays were already waiting for us. I wasn’t too hungry but I was dying of thirst. I reached out to open my juice and Jessi slapped my hand. “Little boys who are still in diapers cannot drink juice from a carton like that, they spill it on there pretty clothes.” He then took the diaper bag and rummaged through it until he found a sippy cup that I had never seen before.
He opened the juice and poured it in the cup. He put the lid on and handed it to me. I was too thirsty to be picky about what I was drinking out of so I turned it up. While I drank, Jessi cut up my hotdog into tiny pieces. As soon as I put down the juice, he was holding a piece of it in front of me. “Open wide.” I did not feel like eating from this kid’s hand so I kept my mouth closed and turned my head.
Jessi grabbed my chin and turned my face toward his. He squeezed my jaws tightly trying to force my mouth open. “Diaper babies gotta eat so they can make good poopies in their dipies. We don’t want to have to tell his mommy that he was bad.” With that, I opened my mouth. Any mention of my mother was enough to make me submit to almost anything. After he forced a few more bites down my throat, he seemed satisfied. He stood up to leave so I got up and picked up the bag.
“Wait a minute, I think we need to check that diaper before we leave.” He pulled the front of my pants down to the crotch and stuck his fingers into the leg opening of my diaper. Without thinking, I grabbed his hand to stop him. “Bad boy! Don’t touch that little wee-wee.” He tore open one side of the diaper and pulled it back to reveal one cheek. Then he started spanking me so loudly that the whole cafeteria got quiet and stared at us.
He pulled my pants down and pushed me into the seat while he pulled them completely off. “You don’t need these, you’re soaked, let’s go get you changed.” Without redoing the diaper, he took the bag and led me towards the office. I wasn’t sure why he was lying, I wasn’t really wet. At least I thought I wasn’t. I looked down and saw that he was right. The front of my diaper was yellow and soggy. I had wet myself without even knowing it.
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t felt that mushy cotton until just now. The secretary undid the remaining tapes on my diaper and took it off while I was
standing. To my horror, when I looked down at the open diaper I saw a thick
smear of brown. “Jessi, make sure you always check the back too. This
is one stinky boy.” She showed him how to bend me over and wipe me. “Make sure you clean this area well. Put the wipe over the tip of your finger and rotate it in this hole just a little after a dirty one.” She laid me down, showed him how to apply the cream and powder, and then demonstrated how to diaper me.
When they were done, Jessi took me to class without my pants. He checked my diaper every 10 minutes or so. He made sure he did it when people were looking and he bent me over every time to make sure he got a good look at the back. There was one more diaper change. This time he decided he could do it himself. He took me behind the teacher’s desk. I was shocked that I had wet again without knowing it.
When he had me taped back up, he said it was naptime and took me to
a mat in the corner. I was more than happy to escape this day so I
gladly slept. I woke up to mom opening my diaper. I had slept the rest of the day and through the night. It was morning. “ Wakey-wakey, lets get you ready
for your first day of preschool. What a messy boy you are this morning.”
The previous days events came rushing into my head with the smell of my dirty bottom. Mom wiped me and took me into the bathroom where there
was a tub of sudsy water waiting. I hadn’t taken a bubble bath in years.
I sat in the water while mom washed my hair with baby shampoo. Then she
told me to stand. She cleaned me then turned me around and ran the washcloth up my crack.
After she dried me off, she led me into the bedroom and laid me on a pad beside the bed. She applied cream to my diaper area and powdered me before taping me into one of the enormous diapers she had purchased the day before. She dressed me in an outfit I had never seen before. It was like a baby’s onesie. The legs came down to the middle of my thighs and there were snaps in the crotch. You could clearly see the outline of my diaper underneath.
She put socks on my feet with the ankles rolled down and then she put Velcro shoes on my feet. “This new outfit will make it easier for the teacher to change you.” When we pulled up to the school, I mentally prepared myself. I figured I had already been through the worst of it. The novelty would eventually wear off and the other kids would leave me alone. But when mom attached the harness and started leading me toward the preschool building, I didn’t know what to think.
When we got to the classroom, it was full of 4 year olds. Mom sat me down in the center of the room and told me to play with the other kids while she spoke to my teacher. “Hey, aren’t you sposed ta be a big boy? Why you wearin a diaper? I don’t wear one no more, see. ”The little boy pulled down the side of his shorts reveal a pair of superman under-roos.
When I looked toward the front of the room, my mom was gone and the teacher was on her way to greet me. She bent down and placed her hand on my knee. “Hello Ben, welcome to preschool. My name is Miss May. I think you’re going to have lots of fun here. Lay back and let’s check that diaper and then we’ll have snacks.” She guided me back with one hand behind my head and the other on my chest.
She unsnapped the crotch of my onesie and slipped two fingers down the front. Then she lifted one of my legs and peeked into back of the leg hole. “Wow, what a big boy, look at that clean diaper! Your mommy said that we should start potty training you today. It looks like were off to a great start.” Without snapping the onesie, Miss May helped me up and led me by my hand over to a desk in the back of the room.
It was the first time I had noticed that there was another adult in the room. “Mrs. Brown, I need to take Ben to sit on the potty, could you watch the class
for a minute?” I was then taken into a small bathroom behind Mrs. Brown’s desk. Without closing the door, Miss May took off my diaper and helped me down onto a little musical potty chair. “If you do a poo-poo or a tinkle, you get to push the button and hear a song. “
I didn’t care anything about hearing a song but I hated diapers and this was my chance to get out of them. For some reason I had been messing and wetting myself without even realizing it. Also, my old childhood traumas kept haunting me. And, I really did want to please this woman. She was the first person who had been genuinely nice to me. Everything she did was gentle. I almost didn’t mind her babying me.
I tried hard but all I managed was a little trickle of pee. That seemed good enough for Miss May. She clapped and showed me where the music button was. “What a big boy. This means you get to wear training pants.” She held up a pair of blue terry cloth training pants. She wiped me before pulling them on and snapping my crotch. As I ate goldfish crackers and drank apple juice from a sippy cup, I noticed that the kids had stopped staring at me and kind
of seemed to accept me as one of their own.
After snack time Miss May left the room to take a phone call. I was rolling a toy car back and forth to one of the kids when I smelled something. Then I felt it, still mushing its way into my training pants. I couldn’t stop it. As I
continued to fill my pants, I tried to think of a way to hide but it was too late. Just as I plopped down on my butt determined to stay seated for the rest of the day, Mrs. Brown came walking through the center of the room.
When she passed me, she sniffed at the air, walked over to the only kid in the room in diapers, and pulled open the back of his pants. Satisfied that he was clean, she walked back toward me. “Someone made a poo-poo. If you tell me now you won’t get a spanking.” She announced to the class. When no one answered, she started checking one by one. When she got to me, I scooted back a little. That was enough to release the fumes from my pants and put her search to an end.
“Stand up.” She unsnapped my onesie and peered into the back of my training pants. “Get in that that bathroom now.” She got my diaper bag from my cubbyhole while I walked to the bathroom. When she got to me, she smacked my dirty behind three times, spreading my mess all through my crotch. “When I ask who did it I want an answer. After I clean that messy bottom I’m going to spank it.”
She pulled off all my clothes and held up the soiled training pants. “Do you see these? Look what you did.” I stood there with red face and poop caked all over my behind, staring at my dirty training pants. It was too much. I started crying. Actually, I was sobbing. With hiccups and snot running from my nose. Mrs. Brown cleaned me roughly but efficiently then led me into the room, put me over her knee, and spanked me in front of everyone.
Just as she was done, Miss May walked in. She came over and laid me on a changing pad in the bathroom while she spoke to Mrs. Brown. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Miss May didn’t sound happy. She came back over to me and cleaned my face with a tissue. I was still crying and she tried to comfort me. She rubbed cream onto my sore bottom and put a diaper on me. I had soiled the onesie, so she wrapped a blanket around me and rocked me on the floor until I calmed down.
To be continued