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Caught in the Act the First Time:
The summer of my fourteenth year (1963), I spent in Santa Barbara with my Grandmother and Step-Grandfather. They had just taken over managing a 12 unit motel; they were the only employees living in a small one bedroom attached to the office. I wasn’t officially wearing night diapers anymore. Yet the feel of wearing them made my heart throb wildly in my chest, I was addicted and would secretly wear them when ever I could. Since my brother was still wearing them at night most nights, I snuck a pair of his plastic pants and a set of diaper pins with me. I was sleeping on the couch where it was harder to have privacy at night. Once I found out the routine I was able to diaper myself, with two thin motel towels in the bathroom keeping my robe on, until I got the chance to hop under the covers safely. The hardest part was jerking off without being disturbed. At home I had been secretly wearing plastic pants underneath my briefs and shorts especially at night but often during the day. One time I had even worn a pair of Yellow Snap-On Plastic Pants to school. They became very uncomfortable as they were smaller then the normal slip-on ones my brother had in his drawer. In the bathroom stall I stretched the leg bands so much I was afraid I was going to rip them. Since I was temporarily a member of the Visual Arts Department I had a key to the storerooms in which they were kept. During lunch hour I went in there to eat my lunch and jerk off in those slimy pants that had been teasing me for hours. I hid them in there since my next class would be PE and I couldn’t wear them there. After my last class I returned there and put them back on to wear home. It was so much more relaxing walking home in those stinky, slimy pants then it was during school hours. I never did that trick again even though I desperately wanted to, I just couldn’t get up the nerve again. At this time in my life I wasn’t as bothered by secretly wearing diapers and plastic pants as I became the next year. Sometimes it would bother me enough to get them off as quickly as possible only to have my loins ache for them minutes or hours later. The only times I had risked wearing diapers with the plastic pants during the day was when I was home alone or in the bathroom. And I seldom had the nerve to wear them at night, Mom was still sometimes waking me in the middle of the night to use the toilet and she always watched to make sure I peed or at least tried to.
I didn’t know how much my grandma knew about my bedwetting since she had just moved down from Washington State the year before. For some unknown reason I started wearing one of the towel diapers and plastic pants during the day, I was nervous at first but after the first day that faded totally away and it became part of my routine. I loved it because if I did wet one of them it was easy to sneak it into the laundry room and get a clean replacement to put on. They were coarse terrycloth roughly the size and thickness of 30” x 30” Gerber gauze diaper. Since Grandma took any notice of my slightly bulky crotch or gave any indication at all I felt secure enough to continue doing it.
I got bolder still, enough that I started wearing two at a time; this made my bulk more prominent even with my regular briefs squishing them tightly. I compensate I started wearing my shirttails out of my pants something we couldn’t do in school. It seemed to do the trick so I relaxed enjoying the increased friction on my thighs. It was delightful to have free reign to experiment and even though I had no one to share my joys with I relished the secret thrills. I felt really clever with my devilish behavior. I was sent to the local grocery store one day and spotted a box of Gerber toddler size plastic pants. I wondered how they would feel and if they would fit so I slipped them in my pants, all the while trembling inside as the adrenaline quickened my heart beat intensely. This was a new thrill, shoplifting, the uncertainty of getting caught especially with something I should not be interested in swiping. The thoughts swirling through my brain hoping I was seen stashing the goods and that they didn’t show. Imagine the shame and ridicule I would have had to endure getting caught not only stealing baby pants but wearing them over a diaper at an age when all the boys in the world would have laughed themselves silly at my actions. Getting away with it was the worst thing that could have happened because it fueled my desire for the thrills of stealing, and added hazard to my perverse sexual desires.
Everyday I had to help Grandma clean and prep the rooms to be rented before I was able to explore, The Motel was on a highway 101 which runs the coast of California from San Diego all the way to Portland although some parts of it is not as close to the ocean. Even though we were in a city this part was still underdeveloped so there was lots of open fields and wooded areas to poke around in without getting into trouble. These were my most enjoyable times romping through acres of sparse grass covered hills with thinly populated woods to find places where I could pull of my shorts and underwear with little fear of being seen and jerking off whenever I felt the urge, which was several times a day. It never occurred to me that I could get in trouble for my bizarre behavior.
A few days before it was time to go back home, Uncle Ron, his wife and two year old son came by to visit, Ron was the son of my step-grandpa. They were on vacation and from Alaska. I had never met him or his other two sons, one of which was in prison at the time with a long sentence. They waited until the rest of my family showed up to take me home. The part that interested me was that the boy was still in diapers and I was able to borrow some of his diapers, they were so soft and comfortable feeling and it was great to pee them full and dump them in the diaper pail in the bathroom before changing into a fresh set. Since the weather was so warm he usually was in just a diapers, tee-shirt, socks and shoes. I was envious of him. The strange part about his outfit was that his mother but plastic covered pre-training pants inside out over his diapers, I have never seen anyone do that before or since. This gave me something to think about but since I wasn’t able to get a pair my size until the 90’s, it was interesting but not very fulfilling to me. We stayed another day after they departed, I knew that the drier was full of diapers but kept my mouth shut hoping to be able to steal a few for myself, when they were dry Grandma discovered them before I could appropriate any. Sadly I was back to towel diapers again, but I had gone back to wearing one at time since my parents had arrived partially because I feared my sister would give me away. She probably wouldn’t have done it on purpose but I didn’t want to take the chance.
Since it was late at night when we left I took the chance wearing a double thick towel diapers and plastic pants under my underpants and pajamas. Everyone was too tired to notice. I hid them under my mattress at home, and wore them every night. I frequently wore them under my jeans during the day for the next couple of weeks. One Saturday mom announced at the last minute we were going out to dinner, I barely had time to change clothes and without thinking about just traded play shorts for my kaki dress shorts, I didn’t realize how tight they were until we were driving away, too late to do anything but pray no one would take notice. I was very self-conscious of my padded crotch the whole meal at our favorite Mexican restaurant. This was my most daring experiment; the excitement was building up the whole time and I couldn’t wait to be able to make a trip to the bathroom to satisfy my lust. On the way back home mom made a frightening statement, it was haircut time; school was only a few days away. Her haircutting strategy involved striping to your undershorts before sitting on a barstool while she took her time. That was bad enough but she would make you strip naked afterwards so the hair wouldn’t be carried through the house on your way to the tub or shower.
I tried to slip into the bathroom to get out of the diapers but it didn’t work and the next thing I knew I was down to briefs on the stool knowing my secret had been exposed. Naturally there was no hiding my crotch, but she didn’t act funny or say anything other then what of cut I wanted. This back then amounted to just a few short hairstyles such as a crew cut, a flattop or a buzz cut. I choose a flattop even though it would take longer. Time seemed to standstill and I was apprehensive and tense of every movement in the room fearful that at any moment I’d be slapped silly when she discovered what I was wearing. I couldn’t imagine her not noticing my situation especially when she would press her crotch into one of my hips while she was clipping away with the scissors. That part had always made me wince even though I am sure there was nothing sexual about it, but have always been aware when it happens. The last time I felt a woman’s crotch pressed against my body was during an EKG last month, it is a difficult position to be in sometimes. Are these strangers purposely doing it or is it an unconscious action.
I was squirming by the time mom finished dreading the inevitable but she turned her back and told me to hit the shower. Relieved I made to bathroom and quickly striped off the underpants then slipping off the diapers and plastic pants, like they sewn together, before burying them deep in the clothes hamper. I hoped in the shower my mind whirling in crazy circles in a desperate attempt to put what had just happened in perspective to how my mom usually acted when she caught me in the wrong. Nothing seemed to make sense. When the water was hot enough I entered its soothing flow letting it flow over my head like it was a heated waterfall hoping it would help clear my thoughts. When I heard the bathroom door open, my heart skipped a beat. The shower door was so frosted you could just barely see shadows through the glass. I held my breath and closed my eyes hoping it was dad or my brother using the toilet. Suddenly the shower door opened and I was facing mom, I blinked as my hand bushed water away from my eyes. Then I was focusing on the diapers and plastic pants clutched in her right hand. The moment I was dreading was upon me, my head started pounding as my heartbeat so hard I felt faint. It was all I could do not to start whimpering like a child as she grabbed my arm her long nails pressing into them. I switched my attention to her face feeling her eyes boring into my skull like a drill bit through soft wood. It always felt like she could read my thoughts at these times. She wanted to know why I was wearing them and it was like I was in a trance, I just shook my head no. then she asked if Granma made me wear them and I just stood there my eyes going from hers to the diapers then down, she dug her nails harder into my skin and I just shook my head no again. She tightened her grip on my arm and dug her nails deeper; I realized she wanted me to look at her again which I did. She told me there was something twisted about me and a moment later I was staring at the door again. The whole confrontation was only minutes but time seems to stretch like it’s a rubber band at intense times. It seemed like forever before I heard the bathroom door open and close again. I felt drained of energy and didn’t want to lave the shower weighting what could happen next. I stalled a long time before getting dried off and dressed. I didn’t see the diapers and plastic pants on the floor so I searched the hamper only finding the diapers had become towels again. There was no sign of the plastic pants or pins. I went to my room to put on my pajamas and checked my brother’s drawer figuring they were back in there. To my surprise there wasn’t even one pair left in the drawer. I was perplexed some but knowing that he was still wearing night diapers, which I confirmed when he came waddling later. I was still worrying about my future but I knew I had the pair of Gerber pants stashed in the closet. I hid them in my pillowcase figuring it would be safer to put them on after lights out.
I searched the house every chance I got but it was days before I found those precious plastic pants in a tin candy container, in the hall closet, in an old chest of drawers. The pins were in another tin full of various sized of safety pins. Whenever I borrowed any of them I made sure to replace them as soon as possible. I was sure mom’s wrath would be worse next time.
I had gotten caught because I got carried away and became to bold in my actions. Looking back over the years it was a continuing theme throughout my life.
The summer of my fourteenth year (1963), I spent in Santa Barbara with my Grandmother and Step-Grandfather. They had just taken over managing a 12 unit motel; they were the only employees living in a small one bedroom attached to the office. I wasn’t officially wearing night diapers anymore. Yet the feel of wearing them made my heart throb wildly in my chest, I was addicted and would secretly wear them when ever I could. Since my brother was still wearing them at night most nights, I snuck a pair of his plastic pants and a set of diaper pins with me. I was sleeping on the couch where it was harder to have privacy at night. Once I found out the routine I was able to diaper myself, with two thin motel towels in the bathroom keeping my robe on, until I got the chance to hop under the covers safely. The hardest part was jerking off without being disturbed. At home I had been secretly wearing plastic pants underneath my briefs and shorts especially at night but often during the day. One time I had even worn a pair of Yellow Snap-On Plastic Pants to school. They became very uncomfortable as they were smaller then the normal slip-on ones my brother had in his drawer. In the bathroom stall I stretched the leg bands so much I was afraid I was going to rip them. Since I was temporarily a member of the Visual Arts Department I had a key to the storerooms in which they were kept. During lunch hour I went in there to eat my lunch and jerk off in those slimy pants that had been teasing me for hours. I hid them in there since my next class would be PE and I couldn’t wear them there. After my last class I returned there and put them back on to wear home. It was so much more relaxing walking home in those stinky, slimy pants then it was during school hours. I never did that trick again even though I desperately wanted to, I just couldn’t get up the nerve again. At this time in my life I wasn’t as bothered by secretly wearing diapers and plastic pants as I became the next year. Sometimes it would bother me enough to get them off as quickly as possible only to have my loins ache for them minutes or hours later. The only times I had risked wearing diapers with the plastic pants during the day was when I was home alone or in the bathroom. And I seldom had the nerve to wear them at night, Mom was still sometimes waking me in the middle of the night to use the toilet and she always watched to make sure I peed or at least tried to.
I didn’t know how much my grandma knew about my bedwetting since she had just moved down from Washington State the year before. For some unknown reason I started wearing one of the towel diapers and plastic pants during the day, I was nervous at first but after the first day that faded totally away and it became part of my routine. I loved it because if I did wet one of them it was easy to sneak it into the laundry room and get a clean replacement to put on. They were coarse terrycloth roughly the size and thickness of 30” x 30” Gerber gauze diaper. Since Grandma took any notice of my slightly bulky crotch or gave any indication at all I felt secure enough to continue doing it.
I got bolder still, enough that I started wearing two at a time; this made my bulk more prominent even with my regular briefs squishing them tightly. I compensate I started wearing my shirttails out of my pants something we couldn’t do in school. It seemed to do the trick so I relaxed enjoying the increased friction on my thighs. It was delightful to have free reign to experiment and even though I had no one to share my joys with I relished the secret thrills. I felt really clever with my devilish behavior. I was sent to the local grocery store one day and spotted a box of Gerber toddler size plastic pants. I wondered how they would feel and if they would fit so I slipped them in my pants, all the while trembling inside as the adrenaline quickened my heart beat intensely. This was a new thrill, shoplifting, the uncertainty of getting caught especially with something I should not be interested in swiping. The thoughts swirling through my brain hoping I was seen stashing the goods and that they didn’t show. Imagine the shame and ridicule I would have had to endure getting caught not only stealing baby pants but wearing them over a diaper at an age when all the boys in the world would have laughed themselves silly at my actions. Getting away with it was the worst thing that could have happened because it fueled my desire for the thrills of stealing, and added hazard to my perverse sexual desires.
Everyday I had to help Grandma clean and prep the rooms to be rented before I was able to explore, The Motel was on a highway 101 which runs the coast of California from San Diego all the way to Portland although some parts of it is not as close to the ocean. Even though we were in a city this part was still underdeveloped so there was lots of open fields and wooded areas to poke around in without getting into trouble. These were my most enjoyable times romping through acres of sparse grass covered hills with thinly populated woods to find places where I could pull of my shorts and underwear with little fear of being seen and jerking off whenever I felt the urge, which was several times a day. It never occurred to me that I could get in trouble for my bizarre behavior.
A few days before it was time to go back home, Uncle Ron, his wife and two year old son came by to visit, Ron was the son of my step-grandpa. They were on vacation and from Alaska. I had never met him or his other two sons, one of which was in prison at the time with a long sentence. They waited until the rest of my family showed up to take me home. The part that interested me was that the boy was still in diapers and I was able to borrow some of his diapers, they were so soft and comfortable feeling and it was great to pee them full and dump them in the diaper pail in the bathroom before changing into a fresh set. Since the weather was so warm he usually was in just a diapers, tee-shirt, socks and shoes. I was envious of him. The strange part about his outfit was that his mother but plastic covered pre-training pants inside out over his diapers, I have never seen anyone do that before or since. This gave me something to think about but since I wasn’t able to get a pair my size until the 90’s, it was interesting but not very fulfilling to me. We stayed another day after they departed, I knew that the drier was full of diapers but kept my mouth shut hoping to be able to steal a few for myself, when they were dry Grandma discovered them before I could appropriate any. Sadly I was back to towel diapers again, but I had gone back to wearing one at time since my parents had arrived partially because I feared my sister would give me away. She probably wouldn’t have done it on purpose but I didn’t want to take the chance.
Since it was late at night when we left I took the chance wearing a double thick towel diapers and plastic pants under my underpants and pajamas. Everyone was too tired to notice. I hid them under my mattress at home, and wore them every night. I frequently wore them under my jeans during the day for the next couple of weeks. One Saturday mom announced at the last minute we were going out to dinner, I barely had time to change clothes and without thinking about just traded play shorts for my kaki dress shorts, I didn’t realize how tight they were until we were driving away, too late to do anything but pray no one would take notice. I was very self-conscious of my padded crotch the whole meal at our favorite Mexican restaurant. This was my most daring experiment; the excitement was building up the whole time and I couldn’t wait to be able to make a trip to the bathroom to satisfy my lust. On the way back home mom made a frightening statement, it was haircut time; school was only a few days away. Her haircutting strategy involved striping to your undershorts before sitting on a barstool while she took her time. That was bad enough but she would make you strip naked afterwards so the hair wouldn’t be carried through the house on your way to the tub or shower.
I tried to slip into the bathroom to get out of the diapers but it didn’t work and the next thing I knew I was down to briefs on the stool knowing my secret had been exposed. Naturally there was no hiding my crotch, but she didn’t act funny or say anything other then what of cut I wanted. This back then amounted to just a few short hairstyles such as a crew cut, a flattop or a buzz cut. I choose a flattop even though it would take longer. Time seemed to standstill and I was apprehensive and tense of every movement in the room fearful that at any moment I’d be slapped silly when she discovered what I was wearing. I couldn’t imagine her not noticing my situation especially when she would press her crotch into one of my hips while she was clipping away with the scissors. That part had always made me wince even though I am sure there was nothing sexual about it, but have always been aware when it happens. The last time I felt a woman’s crotch pressed against my body was during an EKG last month, it is a difficult position to be in sometimes. Are these strangers purposely doing it or is it an unconscious action.
I was squirming by the time mom finished dreading the inevitable but she turned her back and told me to hit the shower. Relieved I made to bathroom and quickly striped off the underpants then slipping off the diapers and plastic pants, like they sewn together, before burying them deep in the clothes hamper. I hoped in the shower my mind whirling in crazy circles in a desperate attempt to put what had just happened in perspective to how my mom usually acted when she caught me in the wrong. Nothing seemed to make sense. When the water was hot enough I entered its soothing flow letting it flow over my head like it was a heated waterfall hoping it would help clear my thoughts. When I heard the bathroom door open, my heart skipped a beat. The shower door was so frosted you could just barely see shadows through the glass. I held my breath and closed my eyes hoping it was dad or my brother using the toilet. Suddenly the shower door opened and I was facing mom, I blinked as my hand bushed water away from my eyes. Then I was focusing on the diapers and plastic pants clutched in her right hand. The moment I was dreading was upon me, my head started pounding as my heartbeat so hard I felt faint. It was all I could do not to start whimpering like a child as she grabbed my arm her long nails pressing into them. I switched my attention to her face feeling her eyes boring into my skull like a drill bit through soft wood. It always felt like she could read my thoughts at these times. She wanted to know why I was wearing them and it was like I was in a trance, I just shook my head no. then she asked if Granma made me wear them and I just stood there my eyes going from hers to the diapers then down, she dug her nails harder into my skin and I just shook my head no again. She tightened her grip on my arm and dug her nails deeper; I realized she wanted me to look at her again which I did. She told me there was something twisted about me and a moment later I was staring at the door again. The whole confrontation was only minutes but time seems to stretch like it’s a rubber band at intense times. It seemed like forever before I heard the bathroom door open and close again. I felt drained of energy and didn’t want to lave the shower weighting what could happen next. I stalled a long time before getting dried off and dressed. I didn’t see the diapers and plastic pants on the floor so I searched the hamper only finding the diapers had become towels again. There was no sign of the plastic pants or pins. I went to my room to put on my pajamas and checked my brother’s drawer figuring they were back in there. To my surprise there wasn’t even one pair left in the drawer. I was perplexed some but knowing that he was still wearing night diapers, which I confirmed when he came waddling later. I was still worrying about my future but I knew I had the pair of Gerber pants stashed in the closet. I hid them in my pillowcase figuring it would be safer to put them on after lights out.
I searched the house every chance I got but it was days before I found those precious plastic pants in a tin candy container, in the hall closet, in an old chest of drawers. The pins were in another tin full of various sized of safety pins. Whenever I borrowed any of them I made sure to replace them as soon as possible. I was sure mom’s wrath would be worse next time.
I had gotten caught because I got carried away and became to bold in my actions. Looking back over the years it was a continuing theme throughout my life.