Daveys Story

Davey's Story - The 2012 Rewrite Chapter 8.htm

DAVEY'S STORY

The 2012 Re-write

Copyright © 1998 by JD

Rewrite Copyright © 2011 by JD

Warning: The story you are about to read contains diaper use, violence, adult language and strong sexual content. The following is evil, illegal, should be banned, and all that other blah, blah, blah. If reading a coming of age story of self-discovery about pre-adolescent and adolescent boys that wet their beds, wear diapers, and explore their awakening sexuality with each other does not tickle your pickle (or if the law in your area says that pickle tickling is illegal) then don't read it.

Please remember to support Nifty with any donation you can so that they keep bringing us our favorite stories! Remember no donation is too small!

Chapter 8: Grandmother

"What are you doing here?!"

"I had nowhere else to go!" My mom tried to explain to the elderly lady who had let us in.

"I already told you that you cannot stay here!" The elderly lady responded sharply.

"But Mother..." (That's right; the elderly lady was my Grandmother who I hadn't seen in years and to be honest didn't care to ever see again.) But before my mom could finish her sentence, she was once again cut off.

"Don't `MOTHER' me! I told you that if you ever wanted to stay under my roof, you would only do so if you got yourself clean and away from those pieces of scum you call `Boyfriends'!" My grandmother stated with definite finality in her voice; a voice that had no emotion in it whatsoever. "And it appears from the looks of it that you have certainly have not accomplished that!"

"MOTHER, IF YOU WILL LET ME FINISH WHAT I WAS SAYING, I WOULD VERY MUCH APRECIATE IT!" My mother yelled and was looking angrier by the second. "Now, I really can use your help!"

Grandmother gave my mom a stern look. "Don't you raise your voice at me `young lady'!"

"GOD-DAMN-IT MOTHER! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SUCH A BITCH?!"

Now some people would be shocked by the language that was just spewed from my mother's mouth, but both Tony and my mom both talked this way all the time, so I was pretty much used to it. Even though I was used to it, I was not dumb to think that my grandmother was. I had expected her to get really mad for what my mother had just yelled at her, instead though, Grandmother just shook her head and as she started to walk away from us, she sternly said, "When you stop acting like a child and are willing to discuss this like a mature adult, please come and find me." With that said, Grandmother disappeared somewhere to the back of her old, dusty, apartment.

Mom stared so hard at the back of her retreating mother; that I swore she was boring mental holes into her wrinkly, skinned, bony back! After she completely disappeared though, Mom's composure changed completely.

I looked up at Mom and then back in the direction of where Grandmother disappeared to. I wasn't sure what to do. We had only just gotten there and never once did Grandmother say hello or greet us in any manner. She in fact did not even welcome us in her door, unless you call her last statement to my mom a welcome.

As I said, we had only just got there and Mom's mood had already been bad even before Grandmother opened her door. She was still of course pissed at Tony about their argument and how he just dumped us at the rest stop.

Now, while Mom was all pissed about the argument that sent Tony on his way, I was secretly cheering inside! Tony was now history! I hoped that the last I ever see of him, is the back of his head through his car window, as he drove off in a fury that I have never seen him match before.

--------------------------------------------------

Mom and Tony's argument, like many before it, started over me. Tony was not happy at all about the close call they almost had with Hilda, and the possibility of her calling the police.

Not long after we sped away from the truck stop and my new and only friend Hilda, Tony scared the living shit out of me when he started yelling at Mom right out of the blue. This of course only got Mom angry and before long, they were yelling back and forth at each other.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!" My mother snapped at Tony.

"My problem is the same as always, you and your fucking little shit!"

I may not be the brightest 10 year old but I did know that Tony was referring to me as the `fucking little shit'! I felt anger burning my cheeks in fury at Tony's comment. I only wished I was big enough to punch his lights out, maybe someday but for now I gritted my teeth and kept my mouth shut.

"What am I supposed to do, chain him up?" Mom shot back at him angrily.

"For starters!" Tony sneered in agreement.

"FUCK YOU TONY! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT ANYWAY!"

"DEBBIE, YOU KNOW, YOU'RE SUCH A BITCH!"

"IF I AM SUCH A BITCH, THEN WHY DO YOU WANT TO ALWAYS FUCK ME?!" My mom retaliated with words filled of strong poisonous venom. Now I have heard the language many times before but Mom has always at least made sure that I never once saw her, sexually with another man. So in all truth, I really didn't know what Mom and Tony meant when they started to use this language as no one has never explained it to me. The only reason that I know it is bad, was because I have gotten in trouble at school for using it at other students and even teachers.

"I SWEAR DEBBIE, IF YOU AND YOUR BRAT DON'T LEARN TO BEHAVE; I WILL NOT HESITATE TO KICK YOU OUT OF THIS CAR!"

"IS THAT HOW YOU ARE GOING TO DEAL WITH EVERYTHING?! I AM SICK AND TIRED OF YOU CONSTANTLY MAKING THREATS!" Mom spat at Tony. And when I say spat, she actually spat a large glob of something, in his face!

This back and forth verbal abuse went on for several miles, then, just as quickly as it began, it stopped! The funny thing is; the quietness that filled the car; was louder than the argument that preceded it.

Tony and my mom had fought several times before, so this wasn't totally new to me. Like every other time they argued, they eventually gave each other the silent treatment (and they call me the kid). After about 15 or 20 minutes of silence, normally their anger would fade. The problem this time though, was that their anger never faded away. Maybe Mom was feeling truly guilty about leaving me outside all night long. Whatever it was that made this rift worse than any other, it definitely wasn't only about me being found with Hilda at the truck stop. For now though it was quiet and I was actually enjoying that quietness; even if the anger was still so thick in the air, that you could slice it with a knife.

Amazingly, for the next few hours, no one said a word. I for sure wasn't dumb enough to say anything. I didn't want to give Tony a reason to stop the car and back-hand me. So I just sat quietly on the plastic covered back seat and stared at the passing scenery, as we drove down the highway. Soon though, I started to feel a familiar feeling. It was an urgent need in my bowels. Breakfast had made its way through me and now wanted out the other end. I was now in a predicament! I knew that there was no way I wanted to chance trying to ask for Tony to stop so I could use the bathroom. With them still both pissed, especially Tony, I knew if I attempted to vocalize anything, he was liable to hurt me badly just to relieve some of his frustration and anger. On the flip side though, if I went in my pants and Tony smelled it, he would definitely kill me! As I said, I was in a bad predicament and didn't know what I should do!

Finally when I thought I would not be able to hold it any longer, I saw a sign that offered hope and decided to take a chance. The sign read – `Rest Stop 1 mile ahead'.

"Um Mom..." My voice wavered and stuttered from the fear I was feeling. I was still afraid of Tony smacking me into next week! "C-c-c-can I-I-I... I m-mean, c-c-can we st-st-stop at the..."

"Davey, not now!" Mom angrily spat out and interrupting me in the process.

"But Mommmmmmmmmm!" I whined. At this point, my extreme need over powered my fear of being beaten to death. "I really need to poop and if we don't stop now, I am going to have an accident!" I cried out, desperate for relief.

Mom sighed, then turned around and looked at me. I guess she was trying to ascertain if I was lying or not. I guess she could tell I wasn't lying, because she then turned and looked back at Tony, and said the first thing to him since the argument a few hours back.

"Tony, stop at that rest stop up ahead!" And I could tell by the way she demanded it, that she was very much still angry at him.

"Debbie, don't you fucking tell me what to do!" Tony shot back.

Mom just scowled, and then, as if she was trying to spit each word with snake venom at him, she spat, "TONY JUST FUCKING DO IT!"

"Fucking brat!" Tony angrily mumbled to himself, but loud enough for me to hear his displeasure. Again I felt anger burn through me but I let again let it go. By now, I guess I was use to this type of treatment from Tony.

You know, I was telling Dad about some of the things that Tony did to me that confused me. I guess I could never (and still don't) understand why Tony seemed both to hate me and not want me around, but at the same time does want me around. Dad tried to explain it and I now understand it better. He told me at the time that Tony was definitely the definition of an oxymoron. Not really understanding the word `oxymoron' or what Dad was talking about, I had quickly agreed with him anyway. I then proudly announced that, "he sure was a moron!" Dad realizing that I misunderstood the word laughed hard and tried to explain what he meant. All I can say is that I still don't understand what the word meant entirely.

As for Tony, he didn't say another word. Suddenly he jerked the car to the right as the exit ramp to the rest stop appeared. For a moment, due to the sudden jerking change of direction, two thoughts rushed forward. The first thought was that, we just might crash! The second thought was, I am going to puke my brains out! I didn't feel safe until he slowed the car down, at which I sighed a breath of relief and got over my nauseousness.

Once we stopped I tried to open up my back door, but I forgot about those stupid child locks Tony had engaged on his car. Boy I really hated those locks! Because of those locks, I always felt trapped inside his car (and that was the last thing I wanted to feel around Tony!). Anyway I had to urgently wait for my mother to get out, so that she could free me. All along I could feel my turd pushing against my bum hole, screaming, "Let me out... let me out..." trying desperately to free itself from the dark confines of my intestines.

"What...?" Mom asked. I had took her by surprise and bolted past her the moment she had opened the door for me. In fact, I didn't wait for her at all, how could I when I was now frogging a turd! I ran all the way to the men's room.

Mom did yell something else at me but by that time, I was too far away to hear or really care. I just had one thing on my mind; I needed to make it to the toilet before an unwanted stinky present, found its way into the backside of my pants.

As I banged through the door, I ran into some small old man, who was caught by surprise and went sprawling backwards. Fortunately for the old man, the wall caught his fall and kept him from falling flat, on his old bony butt. I am ashamed to say that I only mumbled "sorry", as I ran past him, making my way to the first stall I came to. I didn't even waste time trying to lock the stall (This was a mistake); I just ran in and pulled my pants down. As I was pulling my pants down I was getting ready to plop my butt down on the toilet seat. Before I could sit down though, I was confused when I saw the white thing wrapped around my waist. This was when I was reminded of the obvious; I was still wearing the diaper that Hilda had put on me.

I was stunned only for a split second, and then I felt my bowels start to give. Without wasting any more time, I yanked the diaper down, as if it were a pair of underwear, ripping one side of it as I did so. I finally planted my butt down on the seat, just in the nick of time, as I lost all remaining control of my bowels and exploded into the rest stop toilet. It turned out that behind that turd was a large amount of diarrhea that just kept coming and coming. This was definitely not good, as diarrhea was something that I was not able to hold for long and in most cases, ended up in my pants instead of the toilet. Still for now, I had relief.

"Whew, that was close!" I murmured out loud and then looked up as I heard someone else enter the men's room.

I suddenly realized the mistake I had made, in my haste to not poop myself, I had not shut and locked my stall door! Sadly, I wasn't able to get up and shut and lock the door, before a teen about 14 or 15 years old appeared in front of my stall.

The boy stared at me for a minute or so. Then, when his attention was drawn down to the diaper that was still between my legs, a huge smirk appeared on his face.

As his face filled with joyful amusement, mine turned bright as my gaze was drawn down to what he was looking at. The torn diaper was, of course, in plain sight and still clinging to one of my ankles. In shame, I covered my eyes as large, warm, salty tears, started to form and spill out of them. Of course, finding this funnier than shit (excuse the pun here), the teen started to laugh uncontrollably at me. Humiliated more than ever, I quickly got up from the toilet and slammed the stall door shut, making sure it was locked this time, before replanting my butt back on the toilet seat and finishing my poop.

I could hear the boy still laughing but was relieved that he never said anything to me. He just laughed as he relieved himself at one of the urinals on the opposite wall of the bathroom, across from the toilet stalls. I of course was horrified that the boy saw me with that diaper between my legs, but what made it worse and even shocking was, when I had looked down at it, I instantly saw that I had peed in it at some point. I had peed in it so much in fact, that it was bloated to almost the bursting point.

"Dang! When did I pee?" and didn't even realize I had said this out loud until the boy sniggered loudly through his continued laughter.

Again I felt my face burn red with a flash of embarrassment. I didn't start to feel better until the boy left. He was still laughing as he walked out of the bathroom; and it didn't pass my attention that he failed to take the time to wash his hands before doing so. Even though he was gone and I was done pooping, I decided to keep my butt planted on that toilet seat for several more minutes, before getting up. I was just hoping that he would be long gone by the time I came out of the men's room.

When I finally was able to stop my tears, I wiped my butt and started to get up, when I again remembered the very sodden diaper between my legs. I sighed as I ripped the other side of the diaper that was still straddling my right ankle. Finally freed of it, I dumped the diaper unceremoniously on the floor next to the toilet, before pulling my pants up.

"Well looks like I have to go `commando'." I sighed

Because the truck stop didn't carry underwear in my size and we had left so suddenly, I hadn't been able to get the clothes that I had been wearing, when I entered the truck stop, back from Hilda. So my underwear, along with the rest of my clothes, was of course, left behind.

As I was washing my hands, I realized (or should I say, was surprised) that Mom hadn't come looking for me yet! Considering how abruptly I took off and how long I had been in the men's room, she would have normally been screaming inside the bathroom to find out what was taking so long. It didn't take me long though to find out why she never came looking for me.

As I walked back out to the sunshine, my attention was immediately brought to the two people screaming at each other in the parking lot. Of course when I realized who they were, I started to feel ashamed and self-aware of all the attention they were bringing to themselves. Anyway it seems that as I was going through that bit of humiliation with the diaper and the teenager, the argument between Tony and my mom had resumed, and it appeared that it had gotten violent!

I saw that two men were holding Tony back while another man was doing the same with my mother. Even with two men holding back Tony, it seemed that they were struggling to do so. These men may have temporarily stopped whatever physical fight had been going on between Tony and my mom, but it hadn't stopped them from yelling at the top of their lungs at each other.

As I got closer, I could see a dark bruise on the left side of my mother's face, where Tony had obviously struck her. I also noticed that she, like I moments before, had been crying through her nuclear fueled anger. She was also sending curse word after curse word at Tony and the man that was holding her back as well!

Now when I saw that bruise on my mother's face, anger boiled hot inside of me! As the thought of all the things this guy had not only done to me, but also my mom came to me, my mind must have blown a circuit. Without thought or concern for my own safety or wellbeing, I rushed towards Tony and the 2 men who were still holding him back. Before either of those men could react and stop me, I plowed both of my small fists into Tony's gonads at top speed! Also with Tony being held back, this time he wasn't able to stop me as my fist sunk into his fleshy groin, that I knew, almost always smelled like old moldy cheese!

Tony screamed in pain and crumpled to the ground instantly. I have to say, I was quite satisfied and proud with myself, when I heard that howl of pain erupt from him! Even though I had some long needed satisfaction, I still was very, very, angry with him.

"Fuck you bastard! Don't you `EVER' (and I put a lot of emphasis in the word ever.) touch me or my mom again!" I screamed at him and attempted to slam my fist into his face this time. One of the men though saw it coming this time and stopped me before I could land my blow. It was probably for the best anyway as I was more likely to hurt my fist, than his face.

Tony wasn't able to get up for several minutes and as he howled in pain and fiery anger. While Tony was down on the ground, Mom quickly started grabbing our few measly bags out of the car (well that is the stuff we were capable to get as there was a few boxes of stuff in the trunk). For a brief moment there, I almost started to cry, when I remembered about Harold. Instead, I put on a brave face for my mom as she pulled the last of our things that she could get, from Tony's car. She then turned her anger back on Tony and told him where exactly he could go! You know, some people think I have got a filthy mouth and their right but I learned it from the best, my mom and her boyfriends. Talking about my filthy mouth; that has been one thing that Dad has been trying hard to get me to control; so far he has tried to be understanding about it. Something tells me though; that he will not be as understanding about it from this point on.

When Tony was finally able to get back up on his feet he didn't waste any time, he gave us all the finger, then jumped into his car and sped away, unfortunately before Mom was able to liberate our things from the trunk of his car.

"There went the rest of my Toys!" I thought to myself but then I decided that it was worth it if we got rid of Tony once and for all!

One of the men that had been holding Tony back, and his wife, offered us a ride to the nearest town. Mom had thanked them for their help and promised to pay them back when they offered us some money. Mom then got us a cheap motel room that we stayed at for a couple days. Yesterday Mom had come into the room after once again being out all night and told me to get cleaned up. She informed me that we were going to see her mother, my grandmother. A woman who smelled of denture cream and baby powder, a woman that I remember spanking me the last time I saw her around 2 years ago.

I of course didn't want to go anywhere near Grandmother but it didn't matter what I wanted; so after a few minutes of what I felt was obligatory whining, I did as I was told; and a couple hours later, we were on the bus, heading to Grandmother's house (actually she lived in a rundown apartment building). Now here we were, finally at our destination. After spending a day cramped on a bus, neither of us, especially Mom, was in a good mood.

--------------------------------------------------

So as I was saying we were still standing there right in the doorway entrance of my grandmother's apartment. I was not sure what to do and it didn't look like my mom was quite sure either. Then again it was hard to tell as she still looked pretty ticked even though it had been a few days since the fight between Tony and herself. (By the way, during the last few days since Tony took off, I noticed that Mom really didn't talk to me that much, that is when she was even around, which was pretty much only to sleep. I guess she felt that at 10 I was capable of watching and taking care of myself even though the law would disagree.)

Anyway, once again I got sidetracked. So here we were at my grandmother's place and I could tell (or at least I thought I could) when I looked at my Mom, that like me, she wasn't sure what to do. I did know one thing, I was tired, hungry, and so far had managed to keep my pants clean. In fact, Mom had helped me clean up in a women's bathroom at the bus station before leaving and walking over to Grandmother's. The problem was though, after the long walk, I needed to use the potty and I was pretty sure my pants weren't going to remain clean for long if I didn't make it to a toilet and fast.

"Mommy, I really need to peepee!" I pleaded in desperation, while grabbing at my little fire hose to try and keep it clamped shut!

"Oh Davey, Please try and hold it!" Mom begged in desperation. This was the event that finally made Mom decide to enter Grandmother's apartment. She put aside her anger and grabbed my hand and rushed me inside.

It turned out the bathroom wasn't very far but unfortunately it was still too far for my little bladder to hold. As I lost control, I felt the wetness grow under my hand; which was still clamped on my spraying fire hose, trying to stop the flow. Mom didn't notice it was too late until we made it to the bathroom, that's when she looked down at me and noticed the large growing wet spot forming around my tightly clamped hand and running down almost the entire length of my right leg.

"Daaaaaavvvvvvvveeeeeeeyyyyyy!" Mom cried in disappointment. She looked at me and asked in exasperation, "Do you still need to go?"

A little ashamed, I shook my head no, as I felt the last little bit flow out of my little fire hose. "I'm sorry Mommy, I didn't mean too!" I bawled.

I was in tears as I felt the hot shame of once again not making it to the toilet. Actually to be honest with myself, I probably wouldn't have thought twice about it, if it had happened anywhere else other than Grandmother's. Shoot I never got through a day at school (When I even went that is.) without wetting my pants, so I was use to public wetting and humiliation. It was just that I remembered how my Grandmother felt about my lack of control over my bodily functions. This is what was making me feel so ashamed. I also knew that it wouldn't improve things for my mother with her own mom.

I have to say, that I felt a little better when Mom didn't get upset with me. "No baby, it's my fault." Mom sighed. "I should have made sure you got to a potty as soon as we got here. Oh well, she was going to find out that you still have accidents sooner or later anyway."

As I already pointed out, I knew from the past that Grandmother was very upset that I still had potty accidents. In fact the reason why she spanked me the last time I saw her was because I peed my pants while sitting on the floor watching TV. I knew if we stayed here, I would have to try extra hard at keeping my pants dry and clean. This would be a very hard accomplishment for me to achieve, but I was prepared to at least attempt it, even though I knew deep down that it would be a lesson in futility (By the way, I only recently found out from Dad what the word `futility' meant but back then, I had no idea what it meant, let alone that the word even existed!).

For now, I was stuck in those wet pants. Mom had decided to travel light as we walked to Grandmother's; so once we got off the bus she put our bags in a locker she rented at the bus station. She told me that if Grandmother let us stay she would have her drive us back down to the bus station to retrieve our bags. If instead she chose not to let us stay, Mom said we would just be going back to the bus station anyways. She of course never told me what we would do once we got back to the bus station, that is, if Grandmother threw us out. To be honest at the time I didn't even think about what would happen if Grandmother didn't let us stay. Nope, I just did as I was told and was happy with it being just Mom and me again! By the way, for those who were wondering, it never occurred to me where Mom had gotten the money to not only pay for that locker or bus ride or even that matter, the motel room (The money that those kind people had given us, had only paid for the first night according to Mom.). All I could figure was that she must have found a job and was working all that time she left me alone in the room. Yes, I was that gullible! Because of all that is going on with the court case, I now know what Mom was doing to earn all that money!

Anyway, with all our stuff back at the bus station, it meant we were traveling light. That of course meant that I did not have any clean and dry clothes to change in to. I am sure that Mom at that moment regretted not having a clean pair of jeans and underwear for me to change in to.

Even though we had some stuff in the bus locker, it still wasn't everything we managed to rescue from Tony's car before he took off. Because the bus limited the passengers to one small bag each, Mom just shoved our essentials into a couple paper grocery bags. The rest of the stuff was left in their boxes. Besides, even if we could have taken it with us on the bus, there was no way we were going to be able to take all of our stuff to Grandmothers. If it hadn't been for the nice people that gave us a ride after Mom and Tony's fight, Mom would have just thrown the rest of the stuff away. Fortunately, the nice people who gave us the ride helped us further, by paying for a month's rent at a storage place (That's right, I forgot to say that they paid for that as well.). That is where we unloaded the few boxes we had. I kind of wonder though if Mom actually has any intentions of ever going back and getting our things, as it was mostly junk that according to her, could be replaced cheaper than it would be to go back and get it all. Mainly Mom was just glad that we had someone so nice to give us the ride that also had the room for all our stuff. It turned out that some of that junk was a few of my toys that hadn't made it into the trunk and I wasn't happy that Mom refused to allow me to at least bring one with me. So this of course meant that those few toys ended up in the storage locker, because of this, I had been pretty bored the last couple days. I wasn't even lucky to have a TV to distract me, as the one in our motel room didn't work. The only thing it picked up was snow. Mom had also made it clear that I was not to take one step out of the room when she was not there. When we first checked in, she had me hide when she went in to get our room. I knew because of this that she didn't inform the manager that she had a kid. I wonder what the manager said when he found out that I had wet the bed? In fact, because the bed was so wet, Mom slept on the floor. Boy, am I glad that she didn't make me sleep on the floor.

So anyway, once again I have gotten sidetracked. So there I was standing in Grandmother's living room in my freshly peed pants holding Mom's hand, when Grandmother walked into the room with a glass in her hand and a dry sour look on her face!

"I see the boy still hasn't learned how to use a toilet yet!" Grandmother said, her voice dripping with disgust.

"Mother, please don't!" My Mom warned her. "I really don't feel like arguing anymore."

Not knowing what to do, I just stood there dumbly, hoping that Mom would come to her senses and get us far away from here.

"Humph!" Grandmother said in response, under her breath.

Mom rubbed her temples, as if she had the beginnings of a real-hum-dinger of a headache. She then sat down on Grandmother's couch, surprisingly, picking me up and setting me into her lap as she did so. I guess Mom did this to make sure I didn't get any of Grandmother's furniture wet, at least, that is what I guess. One thing I could tell though was that she didn't seem to mind, that she herself got a little wet from my pee.

"Mother, I don't have anywhere to go. Trust me; if I did, I would not have come here. If anything, please take Davey in for me until I can get us a place to live?" Mom pleaded.

"Debra, you're my daughter but you're also a drug addict. You belong in a strict rehab program. As for your son, he would be better off in the care of the state!"

I could feel from the tension in my Mom's chest; that she was starting to get angry again. But before she could blow her stack completely, she forced herself to take a few deep breaths and remain calm.

"Okay Mother, you win! If I go to rehab, will you take in Davey until I get out and get us our own place?"

As Mom asked this, I just had to turn and look her in the face. I needed to know how serious Mom was with this crazy proposal. Trust me, when I saw that she was 100% serious, my hopes and wishes of a new life with my Mom seemed to vaporize in front of my very eyes!

All I could do was hope for a miracle, one where Grandmother shoots down Mom's idea in a heartbeat! I looked over at her desperate for this to happen. I found out that trying to read Grandmother's thoughts was definitely not easy. Unfortunately though I was about to find out that Grandmother and I would have an opportunity to get to know each other better. Regrettably that is, most likely on both our parts.

"I would consider it, only if you agree to certain conditions." Grandmother finally agreed.

I never fully did hear all of Grandmother's conditions because Mom figured it was better, and Grandmother agreed, that I go outside and play while they discussed it. So at this, I was sent outside to play for a while.

Not knowing what to do, I went downstairs and out the back door, where I found a small playground area. I decided to swing on the swings and headed for that. No longer inside my Grandmother's apartment, I was no longer bothered about being seen in my very noticeable peed pants. No, what was bothering me was, that I had no idea what was being discussed between my mom and her own mother. I knew that they were discussing me and I didn't really like that one bit. I truly felt that I had every right to be present when someone was talking about me. But of course, I was just a kid and kids are never allowed to do anything, even if it meant something like, `where I was going to be living'!

I am not sure how long I was outside swinging but eventually I was called back inside. Mom had me follow her into Grandmother's kitchen, where sat me down at the kitchen table and explained that she was going to be away for a while. She explained that she was going away so that she could get better. She went further on to tell me what I already had figured out, that Grandmother would be taking care of me. We both cried for a while then Grandmother came into the kitchen to let Mom know that she got her into a local rehab program and that they had a room available now. I don't think Mom was really thinking that it would be so quick, as I could see the disappointed look on her face when grandmother made her announcement.

Things from that point happened quickly. First we went to the bus station to retrieve our stuff. Then with a lot of arguing on Grandmother's part, she dropped Mom and me off at the local nearby McDonalds, where Grandmother left us. She refused to stay and took herself and our stuff back to her apartment.

This McDonalds unfortunately didn't have a play area but to be honest I enjoyed the half hour we sat there and ate our lunch. Never once did we talk about Grandmother, Tony, or any other upsetting things. Instead we talked about nonsense stuff. I really enjoyed that time but soon Grandmother was back and it was over.

We went directly from McDonalds to the place where Mom would stay while in the drug rehab program. As we hugged goodbye, she promised to get through the program quickly and be back to get me as soon as she could. She told me that she knew living with Grandmother was going to be rough for me but that I needed to try and behave as best as I could. She explained that it would be in my best interest to make as little of a fuss as possible and obey Grandmother as it would keep me on her good side. Finally before she left, she expressed my need to try and stop having accidents. She explained that if the accidents continued, Grandmother would most likely make my life miserable; she hinted that this was one of the things they had talked about earlier when I was outside. Then after a second quick hug, Mom was gone! I didn't realize that the program didn't allow children visitors and that the only contact I would have from my mom would be a phone call once a week, which lasted for less than five minutes; because of this, I would not see her again for Months! She went in the program on November 27th 2009. She would not be released from the program until May 27th 2010.

--------------------------------------------------

Life at Grandmothers was... well... have you heard of the statement `Not a Picnic' before? Well, at Grandmother's, it was much worse! From day one, she made sure I knew what the rules were. The list of rules she gave me were numerous; with most of them being of course common sense things, like don't play with the oven or go in her room. Then again I don't think Grandmother thought I had any common sense.

If there was one thing I really hated, it was when talking to me she never once referred to me by my name, but instead by `BOY'; like `You boy, do not run in my home!' or `Boy, finish your homework/assigned chores, before going outside to play!' I was given even more rules over the first couple days at Grandmother's. The worst of which, turned out to be how Grandmother would punish me for my accidents. In fact, it was only the second day when Grandmother exploded and yelled that she had enough of me peeing myself and all over her furniture. The funny thing was, I never sat on her furniture as she wouldn't allow me and was one of her rules.

"Damn it boy, why didn't you use the toilet?!" Grandmother berated me.

Like the last time I had been at Grandmother's house, I had been watching cartoons on TV and I hadn't even noticed that I had to pee, let alone did so in my pants! So when Grandmother yelled at me, it took me a few seconds to figure out why she was so upset. Plus she had scared me quite badly and if I hadn't already relieved my bladder, I would have certainly done so then.

Grandmother yanked me off the floor when I didn't respond to her question quick enough. Then without any warning, she yanked my wet pants and underpants off of me. When she saw that at some point I had also pooped in them a little, she about blew a gasket. Boy was she mad.

"Boy, I don't know what I am going to do with you! I swear your mother babied you too long. I promise you now, you will either learn to use the toilet like anybody your age does, or you will regret it!" Grandmother threatened me angrily and then she dragged me half naked to the bathroom, almost pulling my arm out of its socket in the process.

Once we were in the bathroom, without any warning, she yanked off my shirt, leaving me totally naked. She then commanded me to get into the bath tub while she filled it. Once the tub was filled, she proceeded to bathe me in a manner that could not be described at all as lovingly! I swear she had in her attempt to wash me, removed several layers of my skin in the process.

Once she had me cleaned I had hoped I was going to be sent to get redressed and therefore get away from her, but instead, I found out how serious and mad she was.

I wasn't even expecting it. One minute she was roughly drying me off with a towel, and then the next minute she was spanking me. When her hand struck me that first time I yelled not only in pain but surprise as well. Now I am not going to say that it was the worst beating I ever got, but I will say that she gave Tony a run for his money. By the time she was done spanking me I had lost count on how many times she hit my poor burning hot behind. I think the only reason she stopped was because her hand was starting to hurt. Oh I know this because she actually stated it. When she was done defacing my poor boy but, I managed to get a glimpse of my rear-end in the mirror attached to the bathroom door. All I can say was that my butt was brighter red than Rudolph's nose. If I had thought my punishment was now over, I soon learned otherwise. Grandmother instead made me sit on the toilet and kept me there for more than an hour. Until I proved to her that I actually went both poop and pee into it. Let me tell you that my legs were so sore and stiff, that I was not able to walk without a very noticeable bit of pain and stiffness. Finally I was sent to my room where I hid out the rest of the day.

While in my room, I moped to myself. "I wish Mom were here, I hope I don't have to stay here much longer!" I thought to myself while crying into my pillow.

In the end I fell asleep on the bed, still buck naked. Later when Grandmother came and got me for dinner she was not happy to find that I never got redressed, and that I had once again wet all over the bed.

By the way, it turns out that the bed I was sleeping in, use to belong to my uncle, my mom's brother. He too was a bed wetter and because of this, Grandmother had a rubber sheet on his bed, which by the way was still luckily on it. Still, she was not happy that I had peed it again, as I had wet it that first night there as well.

When she had found me and the bed soaked that morning she was furious. It also didn't take her long to smell that I also had deposited a load into the back of my underpants sometime during the night as well. At least this morning she allowed me to go clean up myself while she stripped my bed and remade it with clean sheets.

This time I knew she was not going to be so nice about it, if you call her yelling and screaming at me, about my lack of control, nice. I of course was right about this.

"DAMN IT BOY! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU?!" She yelled as she yanked me forcibly out of bed and disgustingly, threw me to the floor.

Shocked out of my peaceful sleep by being ripped from my bed and thrown to the floor, I found myself crying loudly as I lay there naked on the floor.

Grandmother didn't care that I was scared or possibly even hurt. "Boy, I am telling you right now that I am not going to be washing your sheets every day!" She announced sternly to me. "If you are going to be that lazy and pee all over yourself rather than get up and use the bathroom like any civilized being, you are going to be the one cleaning it up. And trust me, you will be cleaning those sheets in the tub by hand, because there is no way that I am going to allow you near my washing machine and dryer, let alone use them.

And starting that afternoon, I began my new chore of washing my wet bedding. It took me over 2 hours to clean those sheets and blanket to her liking, before she had me take them outside and put on the clothes line, which was next to the playground area. I was relieved when she allowed me to clean up and get dressed before sending me outside to do this.

After I finished hanging up the stuff, she sent me to the kitchen to eat my dinner. On the table I saw a bowel containing my dinner. It turned out to be, now stoned cold, Spaghetti-Ohs. Now as a kid I know I should like them, but I never did like canned Spaghetti-Ohs, let alone stone cold. Still, I forced them down as I had missed lunch due to my long afternoon nap.

Later on that night, when I was sent to bed, I found that I was not able to sleep. Instead, I spent the first couple hours tossing and turning due to all the sleep I had gotten earlier. I also found myself crying about my predicament. Eventually, I managed to cry myself to sleep; not knowing that the worst was yet to come.

--------------------------------------------------

Over the next few days I started to fall into a pattern. Grandmother would wake me in the morning and have me strip my bed of its wet things. Then I took it all into the bathroom and along with my pajamas, washed it all in the tub. I would then wash myself.

After everything was washed (including my body) and inspected, Grandmother would allow me to get dressed for the day. I was then sent out to the clothesline where I had to hang everything up on. Once I was done doing this, I was finally allowed me to eat my breakfast, which usually consisted of cold cereal.

After breakfast was over, I had to wash my dishes I used and was then sent to the bathroom where I was made to sit on the toilet until I both peed and pooped in the toilet. Some days, this could take a couple hours before I was able to accomplish enough, to get permission to go outside and play.

I was not allowed back inside (except to use the toilet) until Grandmother called me in for lunch. Before I am allowed to sit down and eat my lunch, I would be subjected to a pants inspection by Grandmother. She would make sure that I had not wet or pooped in my pants while outside. She even made sure that they passed a smell test as I found out the third day I was there.

The day in question, I had been outside playing until Grandmother had called me in for lunch and sometime during that morning, I had wet my pants. I didn't even notice until later, when I felt the wetness on the front of them as my hand brushed across the front of my pants. It turned out that I hadn't peed that much, so I was happy that they had dried out before Grandmother had called me inside for lunch. I was slightly proud of the fact that I thought I had gotten away with my accident after Grandmother checked for wetness and then looked into the backside of my pants to make sure I hadn't messed them.

Grandmother then told me to go eat my lunch but stopped me before I even took a step. She then wrinkled up her nose as if she smelled something bad and took a noticeable sniff test of the air. I had thought I was home free but I guess she must have noticed the smell of dry urine. She then ordered me to stand in front of one of the kitchen chair, which she sat down on and proceeded to smell the front of my pants. Of course the sniff test revealed my earlier accident. I was then taken to the bathroom where I was stripped and once again washed and spanked; after which, I was allowed to go eat my lunch.

Now getting back to my daily routine; once I was finished with my lunch, I was once again made to sit on the toilet. I was made to sit there until I did my business. This time at least, if I pooped earlier, whether it was in my pants or the toilet, she wouldn't make me do so again if I couldn't produce something after an hour of trying.

The rest of the day I was given a choice. I could either go back outside to play or I could play quietly in my room. Sometimes, very seldomly though, Grandmother would allow me to watch a little TV. If at any time during the day I was found wet or messy, I was then taken to the bathroom where I was bathed and after which, I was spanked.

Dinner time was always between 5:30pm – 6:30pm, which I usually ate, like my first two meals, alone at the kitchen table. After dinner I was allowed to either watch TV or play quietly in my room, until bedtime that is.

Once I had my pajamas on, before I went to bed, I once again had to sit on the toilet and if I didn't at least pee before going to bed, Grandmother would take delight in spanking me before letting me go to bed. If I pooped in my pants during the night, which I did almost every night without fail, I was spanked after my toilet time after breakfast.

In the end I was getting spanked at least twice a day for accidents. Because Grandmother was getting tired of hurting her hand when she spanked me, she went out and bought a ping pong paddle, which she now uses to spank me with. At first, when she started to spank me with that ping pong paddle, I screamed and hollered like there was no tomorrow! Eventually though, I was able to learn to bear the pain and sort of get use to the constant spankings. Don't get me wrong, they still hurt like the dickens; I was just able to stand them better after getting used to them.

I truly think it was only because of two things that I did not go mad, while staying at Grandmother's. The first thing would make most kids cringe and normally it would be the same for me. But because it got me away from Grandmother 8 hours of the day, I found it a relief! The second thing would forever impact me; I finally made a real flesh and blood friend close to my own age! Right now I really don't want to talk about my friend, maybe later.

It wasn't until the 3rd week that I was at my Grandmother's, that I finally started school. Someone in the apartment building had called child services on my Grandmother. According to the report, they had noticed that I was not attending school. Grandmother assured the investigating case worker that she was going to enroll me, but hadn't yet had a chance to do so. The case worker didn't leave until Grandmother promised her that I would be registered for school the very next day.

As promised, Grandmother enrolled me into the local grade school and even though I hate school, it still was better than being under my grandmother's thumb all day. It also gave me something to do, even if it was school work. This school of course was no better than any of my previous schools, so my teachers didn't notice that I was extremely behind. Pretty much, all I had to do was show up, and like before, I got the distinct feeling I would be passed on to the next grade if I did so. For those who are wondering, at the time I really didn't think it was a big deal that I wasn't actually really learning anything.

While at school, I pretty much stayed to myself and for the most part I was left alone, at least for the first couple days. On the third day of school, I pooped in my pants during morning before first recess. Of course, it didn't take long for people to notice the smell. Up until then, I had been lucky not to poop myself while at school. Also, since no one paid enough attention to me, students and teachers alike, no one noticed my constant wet pants. In fact, I hadn't yet even used the schools bathrooms, let alone been inside one. Instead I just went in my pants, sometimes even doing it purposefully rather than asking for permission to use the bathroom and drawing unwanted attention to myself. Actually, I was quite surprised that no one had yet noticed my wet pants. On top of all that, somehow through luck, I managed to not poop myself while at school the first two days. I wish I could say that I didn't poop myself at all those first two days, but if I did I would be lying. I got through the day at school only to mess myself on my walk home those days.

Anyway, it didn't take long for the teacher to track down where the bad smell was coming from. As soon as she found out that it was coming from me, she wrinkled her nose in disgust and sent me to the school nurse. Of course, I was wet as well and when I was made to get up and go see the nurse, everyone also noticed that I had wet my pants as well. As I made my way out of the classroom, I heard the normal taunts and jeers from the other kids and by the time I was out the door, I had tears flowing down my cheeks.

After that day, the kids seemed to pay more attention to me, or at least the condition of my pants. In fact it was only the very next day when one of the students noticed that I had wet myself. He had seen the condition of my pants as we were getting up to go to recess. I of course, was sent to the nurse again. To make matters worse, I didn't even make it to lunch before someone had finally noticed that I was wet again. The sad thing is that, I had wet myself again before the first recess was even over with. Miraculously though, I had successfully managed to hide the fact that I had wet myself again from everyone for the time being. The trouble was, the more I wet myself throughout that morning, the more noticeable it was becoming. Eventually as stated, one of the students noticed I was wet again and of course, I was sent to the nurse.

I was sent back to the nurse the third time that day for wetting my pants, and it was barely past noon. The problem is that, I wasn't paying enough attention to my bladder until either it was too late, or like at lunch, did it without even noticing it. It took some kid noticing it as I got up from the lunch table. As soon as he noticed that I wet my pants, he broadcasted it to the rest the lunchroom. With us being outside of the classroom, it didn't take long for a commotion to start, as other students came to see my wet pants for themselves. Of course this got the lunchroom monitor's attention and when she came to find out what all the commotion was about, I was quickly ratted out to her. If the monitor hadn't shown up when she did, I would have probably ended up in a fight. For now though, I took the teasing and laughing, but I knew I would soon have to put a stop to it all and prove that I was not going to allow it to continue, at least not without a fight. My hope was that after I showed my worth in a fight and that I don't back down, that maybe I would earn a little respect and soon the other kids were tire of trying to make fun of me for having accidents. In the past this has worked best for me and so I decided that the next time someone made fun of me, I would do my best to make it the last time!

Anyway, when I showed up for the third time that day with wet pants and it only being my fourth day at my new school, the nurse began to realize that I was not properly potty trained like 99.99% of the other students at the school. I was sure that other than the crippled kid who was in a wheel chair and couldn't move from his neck down, that I was the only other student who wet their pants still. Of course, if I had thought about it some more, I would have quickly realized that this was just not the case.

Unlike my other schools I went to, which in the beginning started with calling my mom (Who by the way was rarely home to answer the phone anyway.) to just eventually ignoring it for the most part, this school dealt with a pants wetting or soiling a little different than I was used to. The school kept spare pants, in various sizes in the nurse's office, just in case such an accident occurred. The problem was that the school did not keep an endless supply and by the third time that day, there were no longer any spare pants that would fit me.

A decision was made and my Grandmother was called. Now the day before, they had sent me home with my dirty and wet pants in a plastic grocery bag. When Grandmother found out what happened, she made sure that I returned my loaners to school that next day. Of course, by the time I had gotten home that day, I had not only wet myself but also pooped again. When Grandmother found out that I not only had wet and messed my own pants plus the school pants, she was furious! She immediately had me strip and roughly bathed me. She then proceeded to give me my worst spanking she had yet to give me. I then had to clean all the wet and smelly clothes by hand.

With as upset as Grandmother was with me for messing and wetting myself the day before, I was certainly not looking forward to finding out how truly mad my grandmother could get! So I pleaded with the nurse for another possible choice.

"Please don't call my grandmother!" I begged. "I am alright, I have accidents like these all the time; so I am use to wearing my clothes like this!"

"I am sorry Davey, but I just can't let you walk around in peed pants all day." The nurse replied kindly.

"You don't understand what my grandmother will do to me if she has to come to my school and miss her stories! (Grandmother was really into all the afternoon soaps that came on after lunch and it was another rule that I was to never interrupt her while she was watching her soaps, otherwise according to her, I would not live to regret it.) Please I'm fine, so please don't call her!"

"If there was another way, I would be more than willing... well actually, there might be another way, though you may not like it any better than the alternative." The nurse said in thought.

Feeling a little bit of hope, I perked up instantly when she said that there might be another way. "I swear! I will do it if it does not mean that you have to call my grandmother!" I committed myself before hearing what the other way would entail.

"Hmmm, maybe it would be for the best anyway." The nurse said quietly to herself. She then looked me into my eyes, "You admitted that you have these types of accidents all the time, is this correct?" She asked.

"Yes, all the time." I mumbled in agreement; nodded my head just in case she failed to hear my answer.

"I see... Okay, how about this then?" The nurse asked after thinking to herself for several minutes. "The school has a small supply of diapers on hand (She never did explain to me why they had a supply of diapers.) and if you agree to wear one for the rest of the day, I won't call your grandmother. But I will still be sending a note home to her to have signed and returned to me. I want her to consider sending you your own personal supply of diapers to use here at school."

At this point I was confused and more than a little embarrassed at the idea of wearing a diaper. Then again, it hadn't been that long ago that Hilda had put a baby diaper on me and after I got over the initial embarrassment, I had no problem with her doing so. Then again it might have been because I felt more comfortable knowing that she wore diapers as well. But this time would be different; as I was sure the nurse didn't wear diapers. Still I preferred it over calling Grandmother. There was one thing though that bothered me.

"Uh... If there are no more pants, what will I wear over the diaper?" I asked worriedly.

The last thing I wanted to be doing is going around for the rest of the school day wearing a diaper in plain view of everyone.

"That is the thing; we do have more pants, just not in your size. Still, with the diaper on you could get away with wearing one of the bigger pairs we still have. Normally they wouldn't fit you as they would be too big and I don't have a belt that you could use to keep them up. But with the diaper on, you would easily be able to keep the pants on as the diaper bulk will fill the pants out more." The nurse explained.

Hearing this made me feel a lot better about this plan. "Okay, I would much rather do that, then bug my grandmother during her stories." I said with a breath of relief.

"Alright then, why don't you get up there on the table." The nurse pointed at the table next to me.

Confused and getting embarrassed again, I asked, "can I put it on myself?"

"I am not sure about that. Have you ever put a diaper on yourself before?" She asked me.

Seeing where she was going with this, I lowered my head and stared at my feet. "No, I haven't," I almost whispered.

"That is what I figured. I think it would be best if I do it. This way we can be sure that it is on properly and have less of a chance of leaking."

Now so far, the nurse had yet to see my little fire hose as I always cleaned myself up before changing into the clean clothes she gave me, and I did all of this in the bathroom attached to the Nurse's office. But now, there was no way to keep her from seeing me down there.

Wanting to get this over with as quick as possible, I tried to get up on the table but it was too high and I was too small. "I can't get up by myself!" I surrendered to the reality of the situation. "Can you help me up?" I asked in defeat.

The nurse smiled at me and picked me up and sat me on the table. "Sorry Davey, sometimes I forget how small you are."

Once I was situated, the nurse started to remove my wet pants and underwear and placed the stuff in, what turned out to be, a dirty clothes hamper to be washed later that night. As soon as I was naked from my waist down, she proceeded to wash me really good with a warm soapy cloth. She made sure every part of me below my waist was washed thoroughly; including my little fire hose, my bottom and butt crack, and even in between my toes which tickled like crazy. When she was sure that I was all washed up, she used a large fluffy towel to dry me off with. Now washed and dried she went and got the rest of the supplies she needed.

"I noticed that you are getting a bad diaper rash down there, so I am going to put some special cream on it to make it heal fast." The nurse explained when she returned.

As promised, she rubbed this cream all over into my groin area and butt. When she finally lowered my butt back down I felt it come into contact with the diaper. I hadn't seen her do it, but she must have placed it there when she was rubbing in the cream or right after. Before she taped the diaper on, she sprinkled a generous amount of baby powder on me. Finally, she brought the diaper up between my legs and taped it snugly on me.

It wasn't until the nurse helped me off the table that I noticed how much thicker this diaper was compared to the baby diaper that I wore a few weeks ago; the one that Hilda had put on me. I tried to put my legs together, but the bulk of the diaper made it near impossible to do. Not really sure if I was going to be able to walk with this diaper, I took a few testing steps. Even though I had a noticeable waddle, I was at least happy that I could walk.

Through all of this, I hadn't realized it, but the nurse was in the clothing cupboard looking for a pair of pants for me to wear. The pair that she finally brought to me was indeed large and I was sure they would not fit me, but the nurse insisted that I at least try them on. I was surprised when they indeed did fit and because they were a little big, they hid the diaper bulk better than one of my own pair could have. They were a little long but after rolling up the pants cuffs, I was able to easily get around with them on.

Before the nurse excused me so that I could go play before recess was over, she gave me the note that I was to have signed by grandmother and returned the next day to her. She also made me promise to come to her for a change if I used the diaper. Finally I was let loose to play for the last few minutes of recess.

--------------------------------------------------

"Grandmother, I am sorry! I swear I couldn't help it!" I wailed as I felt the ping pong paddle sting my still wet butt for the tenth time.

"Boy, if you were sorry, you would not embarrass me by wetting yourself and depositing that nasty dirt in your pants instead of the toilet like a normal civilized person does!" Grandmother spat out as she smacked my butt with the paddle for the eleventh time. "And don't you tell me that you couldn't help it, if you were not so lazy to use the toilet, you would not be embarrassing me and yourself like this!"

"Grandma, please!" I shouted out without thinking.

"What did I tell you about calling me that?!" Grandmother hollered in fury and landed `several' quick swats on my already blistered butt at once.

"I am sorrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyy Grandmother." I cried out as she smacked me with that blasted paddle once again. "I promise, I won't do it again!" I bawled. (Yes, that was another rule! I was to never, never, never, call Grandmother anything but Ma'am or Grandmother; especially not grandma! I guess she found it too sweet sounding for such an old sour puss as herself!)

I had just got home from school a few minutes ago and even though I was afraid to, I went ahead and handed Grandmother the note the school nurse had given me. I knew that I was probably going to regret doing so, but I was sure that I would regret it worse, if I didn't.

As Grandmother read the note, (Which by the way, I had no idea what it said. I had already tried my best to sound it out and read it but of course, other than a word here or there, wasn't able to.) her face got redder and redder! I was almost sure it was going to burst as her anger fueled the pump that was pumping all that blood into her head!

As soon as she finished reading it she had immediately instructed me to undress, which I did without hesitation. I was truly afraid of what Grandmother would do to me if I didn't obey her. I started with my shoes, pulling them off without even untying them. I wasn't wearing any socks so I pulled my pants off, exposing the diaper that the school nurse had put me in a couple hours before school got out. (Yes, I had wet the first diaper she put me in and this was the second one.) I then finally I pulled my shirt off and dropped it next to me. I was now standing there nervously, in nothing but in my soggy diaper. Standing there I recognized a familiar stink emanating from myself. It was then that I realized that I also had a small load in the back of my diaper. I must have deposited it back there on my way home from school. I guess Grandmother must have also smelled it, or maybe it was just seeing me standing there in nothing but a wet diaper; whatever it was, it angered her so much that she flew into a rage that I had never yet seen!

"Did I tell you to undress to your diaper?!" She shouted at me.

Not knowing for sure what to do, I quickly pushed the diaper down as if it were a pair of underwear and stepped out of it.

"Don't leave it on my floor, you stupid boy! Pick it up and throw it in the trash!"

I looked down at my diaper and saw the small turd that I had deposited in it. I then picked up the heavy wet and soiled diaper and started to head for the kitchen trash can.

"You stupid boy! Did I say put it in `my' trashcan? I meant put it in the dumpster outside! My god boy, why would you think I would want that smelly nasty thing inside my home!"

I started to put my pants back on, but Grandmother stopped me.

"Did I tell you to get re-dressed?" Grandmother demanded.

"But Grandmother, I am naked!" I pleaded.

You can say I was more than shocked when she demanded me to do this. I mean, was she really expecting me to walk all the way down to her apartment building's dumpster with nothing on? I got my answer a second later.

"Well, I guess you need to be quick about it then so that no one sees you!" Grandmother sneered.

Still shocked but scared to anger her anymore, I quickly ran the diaper down to the dumpster. Luckily I didn't run into any of Grandmother's fellow neighbors. I wasn't as lucky once I got outside. There were a few kids on the playground who noticed me streaking and they started to holler and whoop at me. I did my best to just ignore them, besides they were jerks anyway. Once I threw the diaper into the dumpster, I ran back up to Grandmother's apartment as fast as I could, I didn't even pay attention to whether anyone saw me or not on my way back up.

I was no sooner in the door, than she started to whip me with that damn ping pong paddle. I was surprised that she didn't wash my butt first. I guess my butt must have not been poopy.

Now after several swats later of that painful paddle, I was bawling like the baby I felt I was. I am not sure in the end how many swats she had given me. All I know was, it was more than she had given me yet at any one time.

"Get dressed!" Grandmother ordered. Again, I was a little surprised that she didn't make me get washed up, but I didn't argue with her about it. I just quickly got redressed.

As I was pulling my pants on, Grandmother got up and retrieved her purse and coat. She then stood and stared at me impatiently while I finished putting on my shirt and shoes. Because I was without a diaper or pair of underwear, I was going commando. My little fire hose, must have been irritated because as it rubbed against my zipper I almost shrieked in pain. Somehow though, I managed to keep myself from doing this. I was too afraid of doing anything to upset Grandmother anymore at this point! Still I couldn't help being curious as to where we were going so quickly.

"Where are we going?" I asked hesitantly as we headed out of the apartment. I did this before I could stop myself from doing so.

"To get my `baby' grandson his diapers!" Grandmother sneered.

Like a whipped dog, I followed Grandmother down to her car. Silently, I got into the back seat and buckled myself in. As we drove the 15 minutes to Wal-Mart, I tried to figure out where we were headed. Of course, as we pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot, I got my answer.

"Come on you stupid boy, get out of the car!" Grandmother demanded. And because I wasn't following her instructions fast enough, she grabbed my ear and yanked it.

"Owwwwwwww!" I cried but at least somehow managed to get out of the car.

Grandmother, who seemed to be satisfied that she had hurt me, let go of my ear. "If you don't want me to do that again, I suggest you obey me and do what I say quickly!"

Rubbing my sore ear and scared that she would yank it off, I quickly followed Grandmother into the store and all the way to the pharmacy counter.

"Can I help you?" Asked the nice lady behind the counter.

Grandmother scowled, as if she was upset with how friendly the lady was being. Trying to put the employee in her place Grandmother slapped her wrinkly hand down onto the counter top before telling her why we were there.

"My grandson, this nasty boy here..." Grandmother pointed at me as she said this. "...school sent a note home with him today, saying that he needs to wear diapers to school from now on!" Grandmother stated curtly.

The lady, who I could tell was trying to do her best to not yell at my grandmother, looked at me, giving me a compassionate look. "Oh... I am so sorry for your grandson. Has the little guy have been having troubles with getting to the bathroom on time at school?" The woman asked kindly.

If she hadn't guessed by now that Grandmother was in no mood for `nice', especially when it deals with me; she should have after Grandmothers response to her question.

"Don't be sorry for him!" Grandmother snapped sternly. "He is nothing but a lazy brat who would prefer dirtying his pants than go to the boys room! I plan on breaking him of this habit, even if it kills him!" I noticed that she said `killed him' and not `killed her' like the saying goes.

The woman scowled and gave grandmother an unpleasant look. I am not sure if grandmother noticed; if she did, she didn't care. The employee who became stiff and robot like, told my Grandmother of the only option Wal-Mart had offer a kid my age.

"We only have one option for children his age and that is GoodNites. Does your grandson need them for wetting or soiling or both?" She asked.

Grandmother, sounding happier that the woman wasn't being so sappy, answered her. "The boy wets and messes himself all the time!"

Trying to ignore my grandmother's rudeness, the lady answered, "GoodNites, while good for children with wetting problems, are not great for kids with no control and for bowel issues." She explained.

"What about baby diapers? I heard they make some now that fit boys his size!" Grandmother snapped.

"Well they do, but I wouldn't recommend them as they are not meant for older kids." The lady tried to explain to my grandmother. "I would highly recommend a youth diaper made specifically for kids his age." The lady then tried to say something else about her own son, but before she was able to finish what she started to say, Grandmother cut her off.

"I don't care if they were or were not made for older lazy boys! I just want to know if they will fit him?!" Grandmother demanded to know.

The lady once again scowled at my grandmother before answering her. "If you get a size 6 diaper, they should fit him. You can find them in aisle 20." The lady pointed towards the aisle as she said this.

Before she could say anything else, Grandmother grabbed my hand and yanked me towards the aisle that the woman behind the counter pointed to.

"Grandmother, please! You're hurting me!" I cried out in shock and pain.

Grandmother never replied to my outcry, instead she continued to drag me to where the diapers were at.

I was amazed when we got to the diaper aisle and saw the shelves full of diapers. Now don't get me wrong, it isn't like I never saw diapers in a store before but that was before... well before looking for diapers specifically for me! Now before you say that it happened with Hilda, remember that she bought them while I was showering. So I wasn't present. Plus I am positive that the selection of diapers that the truck stop had was nowhere near the selection that Wal-Mart had.

Anyway there I was looking at all those diapers, wondering how many there could fit kids my size. I wasn't brought out of my daze until Grandmother flung something into my arms.

As I had been in my trance, Grandmother had quickly located the cheapest size 6 brand diaper they had and grabbed a large bag of them, that she of course ahem... `Handed to me' Yeah right! Before I could even respond, she grabbed another bag that she also flung at me. (I might be getting a little over dramatic here but so what, I hated my grandmother!) At least now with both my hands being used to carry big bags of baby diapers, they were now at least free from being grabbed and yanked around the store. Still remembering earlier when she grabbed my ear. I didn't hesitate and quickly followed Grandmother, as she headed back towards the counter and the lady we were just talking to a moment ago.

Once again the lady came up to help us, though this time not as cheerful as she had been when we first came into the department. As she rang up the two packages of diapers, she gave me a concerned and comforting look that also showed how sorry she felt for me. Grandmother, I guess, chose to ignore it as she got out the money to pay for the diapers. It wasn't until the lady started to put the packages of diapers into two separate large bags that Grandmother barked at her out of anger and stubbornness.

"Don't you dare bag them! The boy will carry them out like they are." Grandmother sneered with a slight smile on her old wrinkly face. I guess at the thought of me being seen carrying the diapers to the car and then into her apartment. "I want everyone to see that the lazy boy refuses to use the toilet and is forcing me to buy him diapers because of it."

The lady behind the counter looked shocked and then furious, as she handed the two bags of diapers to me. I could tell that she wanted to give Grandmother a piece of her mind but chose to keep quiet and, I guess, keep her job.

All the way out to the car, I was afraid that someone that I knew would see me carrying those diapers and following my Grandmother. Luckily, we didn't run into anyone I know and were soon in the car and headed back home. (Then again, I really didn't know anyone or at least anyone I cared enough to be worried about their opinion of me.) As we approached Grandmother's apartment door, I was starting to breathe a little easier as it looked like we would soon be out of sight from everyone and I could finally put the diapers away and out of sight. Of course I had to think that too soon.

"Well good afternoon Rose." Another elderly lady said as she came out of her apartment, which was right across from Grandmother's apartment. Oh by the way, in case you didn't catch it, Rose is my grandmother's first name.

"Good afternoon to you too Alice." Grandmother said with a large smile playing on her face.

I guess you could say that Alice was Grandmother's best friend here at the apartment complex. It is really hard to imagine her friendly with anyone, but it appears that Alice is the only one who can get past Grandmother's rocky stubbornness and bad mood. But to be honest, Alice was the exact mold of my Grandmother. They were both stubborn and rude people. They also both seem to dislike me very much. Alice is also the only person in the apartment complex that knows about my toileting problems... well at least that I know of. I am sure others know by now considering how many times I walked around in wet and messy pants. Plus my constant bedwetting has me hanging my sheets everyday on the clothesline. And of course, I couldn't forget earlier when I was forced to run naked to the dumpster with a soiled diaper in hand and all the kids outside had saw me and made fun of me. But at least, these people haven't talked directly to me about it and made it known that they know for sure, that I have a constant problem. Alice on the other hand has been just as bad as Grandmother about it. They both love to talk about how disgusting of a boy I was that I would rather use my pants and bed than a toilet. So you get the idea of why I cringed when I saw that Alice had no intention of going on her way but was insisting on talking right there in the hallway.

"So you have been to the store?" Alice asked as she eyeballed me and the two packages of baby diapers I was still carrying.

"Yes, the boy's school demanded that I put him in diapers." Grandmother stated exasperatedly. "This boy is going to drive me out of house and home, the way he eats and now the diapers!" She stated sternly.

I couldn't stand it when Grandmother said things like this. I mean, I barely eat anything; and so far as much as I know, outside the diapers and little food I eat; I didn't cost her hardly anything.

For the next fifteen minutes I had to stand there holding the diapers for all to see as Grandmother and Alice continued to bitch about me in the open hallway. A part of me will always suspect that they did this on purpose to make sure that others would go by and see me. Of course, several people did go by as they talked and looked at me there holding the diapers. Luckily no one went by that I really knew. Then again, as I said before, I really haven't tried to get to know anyone there. As far as I was concerned, I was not planning on being there much longer. Unfortunately, I was not aware of how long my mom would be in the place she was at currently. I figured she would be back to get me any day.

I felt relieved when Grandmother and Alice (I of course had to call her by her last name `Mrs. Perkins'.) finally finished their conversation and Grandmother let me into the apartment where I could run to my room. Once there, I dumped the diapers on the floor next to my bed, which I then flew into and cried into the pillow until my tears ran dry. I decided I was going to try and not think about those diapers again, but no matter how much I tried not to, that was all I could think of. I found myself dreading when it came time tomorrow when I was sure that Grandmother would insist on putting me into my first one. Unfortunately for me, this was going to happen a lot sooner than I expected.

--------------------------------------------------

"Boy, get out here now!" I heard my grandmother yell from what sounded like the living room.

I was not sure how long I had been in my room feeling sorry for myself since we got back from Wal-Mart. As I said earlier, my tears had long come to an end, not because I stopped crying but because I was no longer able to form them. I was still dry sobbing in my pillow though. At least I do know now one of the reasons I had ran out of liquid for my tears. It seems as I was laying there on my bed and crying, I had of course wet myself. I didn't realize this until Grandmother had called for me and I started to get up.

"Damn!" I thought to myself. "Well at least I didn't soak it." I said quietly as I checked the bed then myself.

I was sure the bed would dry before tonight but after checking my pants, I knew there was no way they would dry before Grandmother saw me. For a brief moment I considered changing them but knew that if I didn't go right now, Grandmother would come looking for me and would punish me severely for trying to hide it from her. With a sigh, I walked out to see what she wanted.

"Boy your mother is on the phone for you." Grandmother informed me as I entered the living room.

Before I could grab the phone, Grandmother saw that I had wet myself. I shook from fear as she flew into a rage! Without even saying anything to my mother, she hung up the phone and exploded her fury out on me!

"What the hell am I going to do with you boy!" Grandmother screeched at me. "I have had it boy, I swear on my grave that you will either learn to use the toilet or regret the day you were born!" She promised.

Once again, I was ordered to strip. This time though, after I was naked, she got up and grabbed my ear and dragged me that way all the way to the bathroom where she once again washed me roughly. If I had thought my little fire hose was sore before, it certainly was after Grandmother washed all the skin off of it!

Once I was washed and dry, she once again grabbed my ear and dragged me into my bedroom where she located the diapers that she had purchased earlier.

As she ripped one of the bags open (She had let go of my ear finally.) and dug out a diaper, I realized what was about to happen.

"But Grandmother, I thought I was only going to wear them to school!" I asked in surprise.

"Boy, until you learn to use the toilet, you will learn to hate these diapers!" Grandmother stated dryly and cracked a smile. "And I mean it!"

I wasn't sure what Grandmother meant by this but I was soon to find out. For the time being, she made me lay down on my bed. She then proceeded to spank me with the ping pong paddle that I hadn't even noticed she had until now. After she had me sufficiently hollering in pain she began to diaper me. I also want to point out that she showed none of the caring and grandmotherly/ motherliness of diapering that Hilda had shown me. I guess it is hard to explain as it was not so much as the action but the feelings going into the action that I am talking about. It wasn't until she had me completely diapered that she informed me about what she meant.

"Boy, from now on, if you are going to wet and dirty yourself like a little baby, you will be made to wear diapers like one. From now on, while home you will not be allowed to wear anything to cover your diapers except when playing outside..."

At this I breathed a sigh of relief; that is until Grandmother told me the next part.

"...that is unless it is warm enough to just be outside in your diaper. On days that it is warm enough, you will be expected to play outside in nothing but your diaper!" She didn't stop here though. "Anytime you are found in a wet diaper, you will be given a severe spanking then put into another diaper. It will even be worse if the diaper is found to contain any of your nasty dirt!"

I was starting to shake again out of fear as I realized how often I would be spanked every day. A part of me wondered if she would also spank me for every time I went in my diaper at school.

"You are not to touch your diaper or remove it, do you understand this?!" Grandmother demanded.

"Yes Grandmother." I answered shakily.

"Finally, you will be expected to take your dirty diapers out to the dumpster after you have been changed and before you are allowed to get redressed. It will not matter how cold it is, you will not wear anything over your diaper while disposing of your dirty one."

At this last proclamation from my grandmother, I actually realized that I would rather be naked like earlier, than be seen wearing nothing but a diaper while carrying my used one to the dumpster. I realized the laughing stock I would become.

Grandmother must have seen the realization appear on my face. "Yes, you will dispose of your dirty diapers while wearing nothing but a diaper. If I find out that you did this any other way unless I tell you different, you will be severely punished in a way that you have not yet seen!"

Somehow that open threat scared me more than anything else my Grandmother had done to me yet to date!

"Now get out of my sight!" Grandmother commanded me and I was about to do as she said (It didn't seem to matter that I was in my own bedroom when she said this.) when I remembered about my mother.

"Can I talk to my mommy now?" I asked in a small and feeble voice. I was still scared to death of the threats that Grandmother just dropped on me.

"You stupid boy, you lost that opportunity as soon as you wet your pants. Then as an afterthought she instructed me to wash my bedding and wet pants then left, going back out to the living room.

"At least I won't have to do this anymore!" I thought angrily to myself, as I stripped my wet bedding. The fear I had been feeling moments before had simmered into anger almost as soon as Grandmother was out of sight.

By the time I was done washing my bedding and pants in the tub, it was raining outside and Grandmother surprised me when she put the stuff into the dryer. I half expected her to make me still hang it all outside. I was made to remake my bed as soon as the sheets were dry though.

The rest of that day I spent inside my room. Grandmother made me sit in my wet diaper until after dinner; that was when she changed me, making sure to spank me before putting me in my clean diaper. I was put into another diaper before I was sent to bed.

As I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep that night I wondered how much longer I would have to stay here with Grandmother. I was starting to hate her more and more every day and even considered running away. I was sure that Grandmother wouldn't even bother even looking for me if I did. If only I had known at that time, that there was someone out there, who wanted me and had been looking for me for years. If I had known that my father was still alive and looking for me, I would have gone to the police and told them who I was. Then again, maybe I wouldn't, I still would have been too scared of what Grandmother would have done to me if it had backfired in my face.

Still, I am sure that if it hadn't been for a new friend, my first real friend around my age; I would have ran away at some point over the next few days of misery that my grandmother had put me through.

--------------------------------------------------

"Son, wake up." I heard a voice beg me. At this I sat up and blinked my eyes.

When I became aware enough I saw Dad looking at me worriedly and was confused as to why he was so worried looking.

"What's wrong Dad?" I asked as I rubbed the crust of sleep from my eyes.

"You were screaming in your sleep."

I looked at Dad in shock, "I was?"

It was then that I started to recall the vivid dream I had been having of my time that I spent at my grandmother's and burst into tears.

"Now, now Davey, you are okay." Dad cooed soothingly as held me in his arms.

He patiently waited for me to cry all the pain I was feeling out of me and when that happened, he waited even longer until I was ready to tell him about what upset me.

When I did finally tell my dad about the nightmare, it just came gushing out of me, like a busted pipe. It wasn't until I finished that I realized that my Dad was crying.

"Daddy, please don't cry!" I sniffled, about to start crying again myself.

"Oh Davey, I am so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. The type of punishment that your grandmother handed down on you was implorable and she was very wrong. I just wished that the prosecutor felt they could pursue a case against her as well. What she did was criminal and she should be charged!" My father almost spat out that last part.

Dad and I talked for a while until he saw me start to yawn, it turned out that it was still very early and I had only been asleep for a few hours before waking up screaming. So I was still tired and sleep was calling me back.

"Looks like my little guy needs to get some more sleep." My dad grinned at me.

I grinned back and yawned once more.

Dad just laughed before suggesting a diaper change. I fully agreed to the change as I had fully soaked the diaper I was wearing. Dad, unlike my grandmother, was very caring and gentle with my diaper change. He quickly had me out of the wet diaper. Wiped clean with some baby wipes, and then greased and powdered like a doughnut, before finally pulling the clean diaper over my little fire hose and taping it on me.

"How would you like to sleep with me for the rest of the night?" Dad suggested.

"Can I, please Daddy?" I begged in my sweetest voice.

Dad laughed once again, then picked me up and carried me to his bed where we both snuggled into bed with each other. As I fell back asleep in my dad's strong protective arms, a thought had occurred to me. I suddenly realized the true reason why I had been screaming as a part of my dream had been forgotten, whether purposefully or not, I am not sure.

The real reason I was screaming like I was, had nothing to do with Grandmother, but about something that happened while I was there.

The biggest scar I carried turned out not to be physical but mental. A scar that I was still too afraid to even talk about with my Dad, at least not yet. For now, I tried to put it out of my head as it was the last thing I wanted to think before falling back to sleep. Instead I thought about how my life has been since I went to live with my dad.

I am not sure how this brought on my new dream; just that somehow, it just did.

--------------------------------------------------

Authors Note: This following part of Chapter 8 is going to be told from the investigator's (Jim Franklin) point of view, the one who was looking for Davey. Later after he found Davey, the investigator told him everything he went through to find him. So in this dream Davey is having, he is remembering the story from the investigator point of view as if he was speaking and not Davey.

I am not sure why, but for some reason, the last dream I had that night, was really weird. It was as if I was a different person. As if somehow I became Jim Franklin, the investigator who was looking for me. Somehow, I became him in the dream and started to retell the story of how I found... well me!

"I first met your father in 2007, the day after Justin Hawk contacted him. He hired me to locate you and all I had to go on, was an old address for you and your mother in Las Vegas. The apartment wasn't even rented in your mother's name it turned out. She had used cash to pay her rent and used the name Felicia Grace. Amazingly, though she was trying to erase herself, she continued to call you `Davey Long' instead of using a fake name. I guess this was done because it was easier and less confusing for you."

"I arrived in Las Vegas a week too late, you and your mother had disappeared once again. I had hoped that your mother would end up registering you in school wherever you turned up at; so I located the school you had attended in Las Vegas. When I found the school I asked them to contact me if they received a request for your school records to be transferred to a new school. I had figured that eventually you would be enrolled into a new school and they would end up sending a request for a copy of your records. Unfortunately, your mother was too smart for me on this as she found ways around the records request. Because of this, I was back to square one."

"I then started looking into your mother's history while living in Las Vegas and found out some interesting things which gave me a new start but also scared me for your wellbeing."

"Several people who knew you and your mother in Las Vegas told me your mother was a drug addict and often left you unsupervised. This of course confirmed Mr. Hawk's suspicion that she was a drug user."

"I was also able to back track your mother from the time she left your father till the time she skipped out from Las Vegas with you. I was able to get your school records and even a copy of your birth certificate which actually amazingly listed Jeff Brown as your father on it."

"At this point we had enough evidence to show that Jeff Brown was most likely your father. I decided to advise him to seek custody of you, so when I did find you, that we could get you out of your mother's unstable hands. He did this without ease and soon had paperwork saying he was the sole custodial parent."

"Probably the most damaging thing we heard was from your neighbor lady who sometimes watched you. Your Father and his friend Justin had prayed that this was just a rumor and not true, but I had a bad sinking feeling it was."

"The next big lead came a few months later. I had learned that your mother was seeing a guy by the name of Tony Bernelli, so I was on the lookout for him as well. When his name popped up on an investigation report a few counties over from where I was at the time, I drove as fast as I could to the county police department. I showed them my paperwork which included the court order to make your father the sole guardian of you if and when we found you. Unfortunately, again, I was too late. Tony had taken off with you and your mother. It would be over two years before I got another good lead in your whereabouts. I did manage to find where you had been at times, but I was always way too late."

"Once again, Tony became my lead. I had been running my daily internet search when his name once again popped up in an arrest report which was in the local paper's police log."

"Tony had been arrested for being `Drunk and Disorderly'. When I saw the report I placed a call to the local sheriff and found out that he had already been released. I will never understand why they released him before they got his records. The guy had three arrest warrants out for him in two different states."

"I was still hoping to catch up to him before you all fled, so I caught the first plane out there and did manage to find where you had been staying, but once again I had been too late. From the looks of it, you guys had left in a hurry. I didn't want to lose you guys again so I got a description of Tony's vehicle and gave it to the police."

Over the next few months, I scoured each large city between there and the Pacific Ocean. I knew so far that you had always stayed in large cities, most likely because it was easier to stay lost in them."

"Eventually, I came across the people who had helped you and your mother out at the rest stop and gave you a ride. It was from them that I got the break I had wanted to get. Your mother had told the people where you two were heading, where she hoped to get help from her mother. That is when I found out that your father had been wrong and that your grandmother was indeed still alive. Once I found out this, I started to look for her. I was sure if I found your grandmother, I would find you. Because she wasn't really trying to hide, other than from her own family, I was able to locate her pretty quickly. For once, I had arrived at my destination, to find you and your mother still living with your grandmother. When I saw you for the first time, I was happy to see that you appeared to have been in good health and maybe even a little happy. I hadn't known at the time that your mother had just come back from being in a drug rehab program and that you were happy because of it and the fact that you hadn't seen her for six months."

"I really wish I had done things differently and gone to the local police first, but I had located you and I didn't want to take the chance of losing you again. I took a couple pictures of you and sent them to your father. You of course know the rest. I had introduced myself to you while you were outside playing by yourself. I had intended on trying to get you off the property and down to the police station. So I told you why I was there but before I could get you to come with me, your grandmother came out and started that scene and someone called the police."

"I was taken to jail on suspicion of kidnapping. It took a while before the police were able to verify my story and the custody papers I gave them. By the time I returned with the police, your mother had once again had upped and left!"

"You will not believe how much that frustrated me and your father. Luckily the police were so embarrassed over the incident that they went to work immediately trying to find both you and your mom, or Tony, who we suspected was with you."

"With help from your grandmother and quick police work, we soon located you. It was the happiest moment I had since I started this investigation. When I called your dad and told him that you were safe and could be picked up as soon as he got there, I couldn't help but cry with joy. I was happy because the investigation had ended with the result of us finding you alive, unfortunately you didn't escape it unscathed. I really wish I had been able to find you sooner!"

--------------------------------------------------

Suddenly, I morphed back into my own body and as the remnants of the dream started to fade, I woke up. It was finally morning.

"Good morning sleepy head." Dad said softly. "I hope you didn't have any more nightmares."

I yawned and shook my head no. "No nightmares, but I did have a real strange dream that I was Mr. Franklin." I said, as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"Mr. Franklin the investigator?"

I yawned again and nodded my head yes.

"Hmm... I guess I could see how that would be a strange dream."

I could see that Dad had been up for a while. He was dressed and had already made coffee with the in-room coffee maker. The news was playing on the T.V. and he seemed to be in a good mood.

"You're not still mad at me for what I did last night?" I asked meekly.

"Oh Davey, I was never mad with you. I was upset at what you did but I would never be mad at you. I do want you to learn proper behavior. I just don't want anything else bad happen to you." Dad paused a moment as if to collect his thoughts before going on. "I need you to know that I hated punishing you; that I never want to have to do it again. Even so, I have to teach you that when you misbehave that you will be punished. I only hope that you understand this, and that you will always know that I don't do this out of hate for you, but love!"

I didn't respond as I felt ashamed, not of my dad but from my own actions that forced Dad's hand to have to punish me. I could tell that he was sincere in his wish to never have to punish me again and I decided right there and then, that I would try extra hard at being good and not falling into my old bad habits. The thing I knew that I really needed to work on the most was my bad language. This one I knew would be a hard one for me, but I was determined to rid myself of this foul mouth habit of mine.

Dad's demeanor changed suddenly from the sorrow filled person he had briefly become, to one of `let's get down to business' seriousness.

"So how about we get you out of that diaper and into the tub." Dad suggested, breaking the silence in the room. "You could really use a bath from the smell of it." Dad joked.

"Daaad! I just had a bath last night!" I whined.

"Daaaaaveyyyyy! You're going to get another one whether you like it or not!" Dad, goofing around, whined back. He then smiled at me. "You smell worse than a skunk!"

I took a quick sniff of the air and winced at the nostril filled stink that overwhelmed my nose and made my eyes start to water. Dad was right, I did smell bad! At some point during the night, I had soiled my diaper and from the smell of it, it was pretty bad! At that moment I was glad I wasn't the one changing my diaper; I would have gagged and died before I even got it off of me!

"Ewww, it does smell bad!" I coughed and stated dramatically through a muffled voice.

I was trying to cover my whole face with my hands while trying to protect it from the stench that emanated from my diapered butt. As I had scooted in the bed a little, I realized something else. From the wetness I could feel under me, I had sprung a leak at some point, most likely after Dad had gotten up. I had soaked Dad's bed and a sudden, un-rational burst of fear, forced my mind to slip back; back to a time at Grandmother's place.

--------------------------------------------------

"OH MY GOD, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO BOY!" Grandmother roared so loud that she scared me out of my sleep and gave me the closest thing I could describe as what a heart attack felt like.

We had a half day at school that day and Grandmother must have forgotten about it. I had come home from school and found the apartment locked and grandmother not home. Not knowing what else to do, I sat outside the door and waited for Grandmother to come home from wherever she was.

I was not sure how long I had been sitting there but I was starting to get tired and my belly had started to feel bad, at some point I* dozed off. I was awakened when Grandmother's landlord shook me awake.

"Little boy, wake up." I heard someone say from a faraway distance.

With great difficulty, I opened my eyes and saw Mr. Carey, the landlord, looking down on me. Suddenly I was afraid which was not helped due to the fog of sleep my mind was still stuck in. I remembered how adults didn't like it when kids my age were left alone and I was afraid that if Mr. Carey made a fuss about it to Grandmother, she would most likely get very angry at me and punish me. I wasn't sure what to do and I guess the landlord saw the fear in my eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry little one. I didn't mean to startle you there. Aren't you Rose's grandson?" Mr. Carey asked me.

Not knowing what to say, I just nodded my head. Just that act alone brought back the ickiness I had been feeling, as my head throbbed and my belly gurgled. I did my best to shake it off for the time being. I figured once I got some more sleep I would feel better.

"Oh my, don't tell me she gone off and locked you out of the apartment?" he asked out of concern.

"No, she just told me to wait here for a few minutes, she had to go back down to the car and get something she forgot." I lied and was surprised at how authentic it sounded, considering how tired and sick I was. Then again, maybe it sounded authentic because I was tired and sick and wasn't able to truly hear how it sounded. Still, he must have bought it because the next thing I knew was that he dug out his keys and let me into the apartment.

"There you go little one. Tell your Grandmother I let you in." He asked as made his way down the hall.

Shutting the door and looking around the quiet apartment, I considered for a moment just going back outside the door and wait for Grandmother to come home. The only problem was that I didn't want to be caught outside the apartment by Mr. Carey; he might get to suspicious if he saw me just sitting out there again. Also, I found the longer I was on my feet, the worst I felt. On top of that, I was still tired and figured that I would get a little sleep and therefor feel better. In my sick, tired, mind I did something that I knew I was not allowed to do and normally wouldn't have if I had been able to think at all, I sat in my Grandmother's chair and promptly fell asleep.

Now, I had no idea that my Diaper was already so full that it had started to leak a little. I also didn't know just how sick I was. All I knew was, that I was just so tired and wasn't feeling that great all of a sudden. So I quickly fell asleep without another thought in Grandmother's comfortable chair.

So Grandmother screaming at me was the last thing I had expected. In fact, I had forgotten that I was even in her chair. All I knew that moment was that I thought I was having a heart attack and that I really, really, didn't feel good at all! Between being frightened so bad and being sick, I had no warning whatsoever when I opened my mouth to say something and instead vomited all over me, Grandmother, and her chair, plus got a good portion of the living room as well.

This of course didn't make matters any easier and the tension rose between Grandmother and me. In fact, Grandmother resembled more a volcano exploding over and over again, than a human being.

"OH, YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE BOY!" Grandmother Shrieked.

All the screaming Grandmother was doing was not helping me feel any better; in fact it was making me feel a lot worse! I tried to get up out of her chair but before I could get on my feet, I threw up again. I must have passed out because I didn't re-awaken until the next morning and even though I was feeling a lot better than I had the day before, I was still long from being well again. Even so, Grandmother was still angry at me and when she showed me her damaged chair, I couldn't really blame her.

I knew I was not allowed to sit on her furniture and because I had misbehaved, I had ruined her chair. My diaper I had been wearing that day had leaked and I not only ended up getting my pee on the chair but I also had bad diarrhea which overfilled my diaper and stained her chair along with my breakfast and lunch from yesterday.

"Boy, do you see what you have done to my chair?" Grandmother asked me sternly. "You know you are forbidden to sit on any of my furniture other than your chair at the kitchen table!" Grandmother added angrily.

Sick and quite upset at myself, I said nothing at all, in fear of provoking her into an uncontrollable rage. I just stood there and stared at my feet as she yelled at me about being a lazy-no-good-for-nothing snot-nosed-boy.

My punishment was swift, Grandmother hadn't bothered to clean me up yesterday but dumped me into the tub for the night where I guess she figured I could puke, piss, and shit my brains out all I wanted. This is of course where I found myself when I woke up the next day.

Now that I was awake, she insisted on giving me a bath but instead of using soap on me she used Comet kitchen cleaner. Let's just say by the time my bath was over, my skin was red and raw all over from where she had used that scouring powder on me. It had eaten into my skin and caused chemical burns that hurt worse than any spanking she had ever given me. Oh, and talking about spankings, it didn't end there. After I was clean, she gave me the worst spanking yet, in fact she ended up breaking that ping pong paddle over my butt. (Don't worry, she replaced it almost immediately!) I was then made to scour her chair clean. Over the next 2 days, which was the weekend, I attempted to clean my mess from her chair, in the end though; I was not able to get it cleaned to her satisfaction.

Since I was not able to clean the chair properly, I was told that I would have to earn the money to replace the chair. So over the next couple weeks, I spent time doing odd jobs for other people in apartment building, some of them I hated. Eventually though I was able to earn enough money to buy Grandmother a new chair. Luckily for me I had people who paid me quite well, most likely more than I was ever worth. Because of this I earned the money faster than even Grandmother could believe.

In the end I did learn one thing. From that point on, I didn't sit on a stick of her furniture again, that is except for my bed. I even stood at the table to eat my meals. Not even when Mom finally got out of rehab and she asked me to sit next to her on the couch, did I break this habit of not sitting on anything of grandmothers again. I had been humiliated through the whole process and the one thing I left out was that when Grandmother set me up to do these jobs, she made me tell each of my employers that I was a lazy boy who ruined her chair by peeing and pooping on it rather than getting up and going to the bathroom. She also put a notice up on the Apartment Notice Board. This notice stated very clearly what I did; now every kid in the place, except for one, sniggers behind my back and taunts me. And to make matters worse, Grandmother has forbidden me to defend myself, even if they took the first swing. I was supposed to just allow them to make fun of me and beat me up! Did I tell you yet how much I hated my Grandmother and how much I hated living with her?

--------------------------------------------------

Anyway, as I recovered from the remnants of the onslaught of this memory, I started to cringe. A part of me knew without doubt that what I was feeling was irrational but that memory with Grandmother was overpowering my rational mind.

All I could think was, "What was Dad going to do to me when he found out that I not only wet his bed but the hotel's property?"

As I said, it was an irrational thought, but when you have lived the life I have, you are allowed an irrational thought a time or two. I of course knew deep down that Dad would never be upset about my wetting his bed. I mean, he was far from being as strict and inhuman as Grandmother had been. But, when you have been punished so much, for things you can't control; you can't help but believe that you will always be punished for such things.

Still trapped in my fearful state-of-mind, Dad started to realize something was wrong.

"Davey! Why are you cringing?" Dad asked as he approached me and then took me into his arms; picking my small shaking body up from his bed that I had been lying in.

Crying from fear and shame I wasn't able to talk for a few moments, until I was able to recompose myself.

"Daddy! I am so sorry! I peed all over your bed!" I blurted out and hung my head in shame.

I took a deep breath and started to cry again as I tried to explain.

"My diaper leaked! "I'm sorry; I got your bed all wet!" I cried.

"Now now, don't you worry about that. Do you really think I wouldn't have made sure they protected both beds just in case?" Dad asked me calmly.

I sniffled a little and watched as Dad pulled back the wet bedding. Relief filled me immediately when I saw the familiar rubber sheet underneath a cloth mattress protector, which explains why I didn't notice it was there.

"The mattress is protected, so all you got wet was the bedding itself." Dad continued. "As you know, they have these new-fangled machines that actually clean bedding. I think they call them washing machines!" Dad joked, trying to make me laugh.

I wiped a few tears from my eyes, "Dad, that was bad!" I groaned. Still he accomplished what he had wanted, and that was to get me to smile. I tried to hide it from him but I wasn't fast enough.

"Too late, I saw that smile you are trying hide from me." At this, he reached down and started to tickle me.

"STOOOOOOOOP!" I screamed in laughter. "Pleeeeeaaaaase, you are going to make me pee myself."

"I think you are a little late on that one Squirt!" Dad laughed.

"Hey!" I shouted through my giggling.

Dad continued to tickle torture me and soon I was again flooding my already leaking diaper. I am not sure if it was because he noticed what had happened or if it was something else, but Dad chose to end my tickle torturing and allow me to get my breath back.

"Daaad, you made me pee myself!" I whined and followed it with a burst of laughter.

"Well Squirt, how about we get you out of that dirty diaper then." Dad laughed

"Heyyyyy!" I shouted again at his use of `Squirt'. I tried to give him my serious face but failed miserably when I broke out in laughter after Dad made a goofy face at me.

"Alright you little giggler, let's get you out of that smelly diaper and into the tub.

I watched as Dad located my diaper bag and pulled out the supplies he needed to clean me up. When he laid my changing mat down on the foot of the bed, I started to get ready to get up on it. I barely took two steps before Dad reached down and picked me up. He gently laid me down on my changing matt and started to remove the tapes of my well used diaper. We would both soon wish he had not done so.

"EEEEWWWWWW... Gross! I can't breathe!" I cried out being way over dramatic, but still getting the point across that this was one stinky diaper!

There have been many times that I thought I had smelled bad after pooping myself, but this time... Well let's just say, I outdid myself this time! As Dad pulled back the front of my diaper and exposed my little fire hose, that awful stench exploded into the room. I tried my best not to, but I started to gag on that god awful smell that flooded out of my diaper. I was almost positive that later, everyone in the hotel would be talking about that bad smell they smelled this morning.

"My gawd, did something crawl up and die in you last night!" Dad joked as he tried to fan the stench of my shit from his nose.

"It sure smells like it!" I continued to gag.

"I think we need to hose you down." Dad joked.

He quickly re-taped my diaper before picking me up and carrying me into the bathroom where he placed me on my feet in the tub.

He once again un-taped my diaper and carefully removed it. Making sure not to make too much of a mess. He then rolled the diaper up into a small tight ball and dropped it into the wastebasket, which he then removed the bag from it and tied it closed.

"This diaper, we will need to take directly to the dumpster, it is too smelly to leave in the room." Dad announced as he turned back to me and turned on the bathwater.

He made sure the water was the right temperature before turning on the shower. Luckily the shower/bathtub had one of those shower hoses that he could use to hose me down with. I just stood there, trying my best to not breathe through my nose, as he rinsed away the filth of my poop accident from my body. Once he had all the filth rinsed down the drain, he went to work soaping me all up. He made sure he got into every crevice and hiding spot, making sure that I was completely soaped down.

Unlike when Grandmother washed me, Dad was more gentle and caring. He took his time making sure that he never did something that might hurt me. Even though I didn't think it needed to be, Dad insisted on washing my hair again. I just stood there and let him wash me, enjoying the sensation that came from the loving care that he was putting into this endeavor. I also think Dad was getting enjoyment out of it as well.

Now get your mind out of the gutter, because I didn't mean it that way!

Once Dad was satisfied that I was squeaky clean, he turned off the water and started to dry me off.

"Well we don't have to go to court again till tomorrow, so we will be most likely hanging out around the hotel today. Maybe if you want we can even go swimming later. I will leave it up to you whether or not to wear a diaper today. That is unless we go to the pool. The hotel has a policy that children who are not completely toilet trained must either wear a swim diaper or will not be allowed to swim in the pool." Dad informed me.

"If I wear a swim diaper, will everyone else see that I am wearing one?" I asked out of fear. Later I would completely forget about this discussion and to be honest, I wasn't even sure what a swim diaper was. I had heard of them mentioned but I have never seen one before.

"Your swim trunks should hide the swim diaper completely so you shouldn't worry about that." With that said, Dad ruffled my hair a little and smiled at me.

I know I usually give you a choice, but I agree with the hotel on this. If you were to have an accident while swimming in the pool, you could get other people swimming sick. So it is only fair to the other swimmers, do you understand honey?"

I nodded my head yes. I actually already knew of similar policies at some of the local pools I have been to, while on the run with Mom. Of course I didn't know how to swim so I never went swimming in any of these pools.

"Okay then, you will wear a swim diaper when swimming but for anytime else, it is up to you if want to go diaper-less." Again, I would completely forget about this conversation.

As I was thinking about Dad's offer. Dad took it upon himself to open the windows and air out the room. He was trying to get rid of the smell of my shitty diaper that was still lingering in the room.

As for me, I was thinking how it would be nice to be able to be diaper free for the day, especially after being stuck in them for the last few days. Then I remembered the other night in the Game Room and that I would be hanging out all day with my new friend Billy. Even though Billy knew I had accidents, I really didn't want to go through the embarrassment if I had another accident in front of him. I also knew the likelihood of an accident would be greater since I would be playing and not paying attention to my bathroom needs.

After careful consideration, I gave Dad my answer. "I think I should wear a diaper." I told Dad after thinking how I would feel if I had an accident and was not wearing one.

"Alright buddy, just let me know when you need to be changed. And do me a favor will you kiddo, don't even worry about having an accident, just promise me you will have fun. If you have an accident so what, I'll have you cleaned back up in a jiffy!" Dad promised as he picked me up and carried me back to the bed, where he once again laid me on my changing pad and started to diaper me in one of my thick night time diapers. For some reason I didn't object to this as I guessed Dad also realized I would be playing with a friend and not paying attention to my bodily functions, so therefore needed better protection.

As I felt Dad lay my butt down onto that thick soft diaper, I felt a soothing sensation overpower me. If someone had told me a few months ago that at some point I would like how it feels to be diapered, I would have said they were crazy! At that point in time I hadn't felt how it was to be diapered by someone who truly loves you. Yes, not every person who ever diapered me was like Grandmother or later Tony, but those people were either doing their job or didn't quite have the same loving touch my father had when it came to diapering me. I knew from the way my Dad diapered me that he truly loved me. For now I just enjoy the love and sensations that his love brought into it.

Once he had me perfectly situated on the diaper, he rubbed diaper cream into my groin and little fire hose, butt cheeks, and butt crack. I actually enjoyed the feelings of this part the most and so did my little fire hose as it always got big and felt good during this part of the diapering.

After he was sure he had me adequately greased down, he sprinkled baby powder all over my front and backside. Then using one of the wet wipes he cleaned the powder and cream from his hands before pulling the front of my diaper up snuggly between my legs and taping it securely.

Now, adequately diapered, Dad helped me into my clothes and even put on my socks and shoes and tied them for me. I just let him do it even though I knew how to do all that myself. I knew that it allowed Dad to experience some of the stuff he missed since he was not there when I was young. To be honest, I kinda liked the baby-like treatment that he gave me at times. It showed me how much he cared for me as it was nothing like what Grandmother did. Even though she treated me the same way, she did so to humiliate me and not out of the loving care that my dad did it in.

"Well, how about we go and find your Uncle Justin and wrangle us up some breakfast?" Dad asked after he finished tying my shoes.

I was all for that idea, "where are we going to have breakfast at Dad?"

"Well, I was thinking we could go back to McDonalds and that way you can play for a while in their Playland again."

My face lit up with that suggestion "Cool! Yeah let's do that!" I babbled excitedly. Then I thought of something. "Can I see if Billy can come with us?" I begged my dad.

"Hmmm, I don't know about that." Dad joked. When he saw the look I gave him though, he burst into laughter. "Davey, you're always so serious!" Dad laughed.

I just gave him an evil eye until he gave in, though I knew it was all an act that he was pulling just to get my goat.

"Okay, do you know what room he is staying at?"

One of the things I had learned from Billy before I was beat up, was that he and his family were staying at the same hotel as we were. In fact his room was surprisingly only a couple rooms down the hall. So we soon found ourselves outside of Billy's family, hotel room. It turned out that Billy was still asleep but jumped out of his bed as soon as his dad woke him up and told him I was there to invite him to breakfast. I actually saw him spring out of his bed like a jack rabbit from where I stood in the opened doorway.

I learned something about Billy just then, something that explained why his brother teased him and why he was so interested about me. I decided for now not to let him know that I saw what I was sure I saw. Instead I waited in the hall patiently for him to get dressed and join us. I even closed the door to give him some privacy.

While waiting there for Billy my mind turned over the image of Billy springing from his bed. It kept replaying it as if on a loop. Was I dreaming or did I see what I was positive that I saw. I of course knew the answer but my brain was still trying to find fault in my evidence. Still there was no way it could convince me otherwise. I had definitely seen a saggy diaper between Billy's legs where his pajama bottoms had been pushed down far enough in the back to expose it.

--------------------------------------------------

web counter