Deeker Diaper Stories

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Deeker Diaper Stories
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Chapter 8

 

Batgirl returned to the Batcave after she called police to pick up Daggett and his thugs. During the drive she couldn't stop thinking about the kiss, she didn't know what to think. When she arrived to the Batcave, Dick was sitting on the Batcomputer and Alfred was serving dinner to him.
"How did it go?" Dick asked when Batgirl jumped out from the Batmobile.
"What?" Batgirl asked.
"Did you find Daggett?" Dick asked.
"Yeah, I found him"
"And?"
"He doesn't have Nora" Batgirl answered and walked to the storage.
Dick cursed and Batgirl removed her costume, then she noticed something. She had been so confused
I had no clue what to expect now. The girls had said we would just walk around town, but after being tricked into a diaper and a pushchair, I had no clue what the truth was anymore. The shirt was actually made of latex, not just shirt fabric, and I began to notice it was crushing my ribs, but it looked more like the movie. I was furious, but I wasn't spitting out my pacifier, for fear of the electric shock collar, but it wasn't just that. I strangely liked it. The pacifier that is, not my predicament. Our town takes Halloween very seriously, so trick-or-treaters start at 4:30 and everywhere you look from then on out, EVERYONE is in costumes,
I knocked on the door with great nerves. Was this a good idea? I mean, I love Harley Quinn more than any other 15 year old boy on the planet. And I'll confess, I've secretly always want to crossplay as her, though was this too much? Mary approached me at school with the idea. Her group of friends were doing a gender-swapped adult baby suicide squad costume, and they needed a guy for Harley. They were all in the Drama class as well, so I knew they would get completely into character, and Mary, who was gonna be the Joker, would be cruel to me, and expect me to pretend to be infatuated with her, like the real Harley. So, Crossdressing, Babificat
  James’ mom had made him babysit Abigail before, but never overnight. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but apparently there was no one else to do the job, so he had no choice.
  He was brought to Miss Ramsey’s house shortly before evening, already set for his stay, and making sure to wear sweatpants to cover up his shame.
  “Welcome, welcome!” Miss Ramsey ushered James and his mother in, leading them to the nearest couch. “Now, I have to get going as soon as I can—James, your mom says you’re still wetting the bed. I know you like to wear pull-ups at night, but I just don’t trust the
“What’s your name?” Jackson teased in a cloying baby talk, the eleven year-old kneeling smugly on the carpet in front of his tiny older cousin sat miserably atop the plastic potty chair. “Edward.” The thirteen-year-old spat through gritted teeth, clenching his fists tightly against his bare knees as he stared out longingly at his jeans and underpants bundled up on the carpet a few paces away. He wanted desperately to simply stand up and put them back on - but he knew from experience that it would be no use. Jackson might have been two years younger, but compared to the teeny tiny teen he was a veritable giant. Edward knew by now that any attempt to get up would only result in him being bundled summarily atop the potty chair again, perhaps with an admonishing tap on his backside to boot. “Silly billy!” Jackson chortled, making Edward cringe back towards the tall plastic backrest as he placed an unwelcome interfering finger atop the smaller boy’s button nose, wiggling the digit
Chase stood there looking at the three of them with his arms crossed, his brother, sister and cousin were all digging deep into their cousin’s dress-up box. His parents had dropped the three of them off at their cousin’s all the time for free babysitting from his Aunt. It always ended up with them playing whatever game his cousin, Chloe, and his sister, Emily, wanted to play. He looked at Grant, his younger brother and rolled his eyes. He always seemed happy to play whatever the girls wanted, whether it was dolls or some version of them “playing pretend”, this left him being the only one pouting. “Come on Chase, you have to pick something for dress-up!” Emily announced. Chase felt if he rolled his eyes one more time he would get a headache. “Why bother, I know the only thing that’s in that box is princess and fairy dresses. You have nothing for me and Grant!” He claimed trying to get some type of sympathy from Grant who was still digging through the box. He knew from previous
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SANTA'S HELPER -------------- Mark is my little brother. He's eight years old. I'm Allen, and I'm eleven. Both of us were pretty average as far as boys go, but we did have our differences. I had blonde hair and his was brown. My build was small, but I was still tough, tough enough to play football, anyway. Mark didn't like sports. He liked Pokemon. I couldn't stand Pokemon. I could list a million examples of how Mark and I were different, but his Pokemon obsession was the one thing that set us apart the most. Christmas was coming again, and I hoped Mark would finally come to his senses and give up believing in Santa Claus this year. I gave up believing in Santa Claus when I was six, but I've still gotten lots of nice presents every year since then. Mark still firmly believes that there is a Santa Claus. He thinks there's some big fat bearded dude in a red suit who goes "ho ho ho" all the time and-- get this, he flies around the world in one night-- by reindeer! One of them even supposedly has a red nose-- and it glows! Then, he stops on everyone's rooftop and comes down their chimneys to drop off presents. Who thinks up this nonsense, anyway? I figured that Mark would have abandoned believing that something so absurd exists as of last Christmas, but this Christmas he is just as convinced as ever that there is a Santa Claus. I decided to have some fun with this. Mark has been wanting Pokemon stuff for Christmas: Pokemon shirts, Pokemon underwear, Pokemon books, Pokemon videos. If it has the name Pokemon on it, he wants it. He even said this himself that if it says "Pokemon" on it, he wants it. He told Santa (that is, "Santa" at the mall, of all places in the entire world and he'd be at the mall in Boise, Idaho at the exact same moment we were there) that he wanted all this Pokemon shit. I didn't want my little brother to be disappointed in Santa, so I decided to play Santa myself to make sure Santa wouldn't let Mark down. I have a friend named Tyler. He, too, has a little brother about Mark's age. His name is Troy. Troy has a little bit of a problem with keeping his bed dry. To resolve this situation, his parents have him wear diapers to bed. For years Troy wore very huge, thick and bulky cloth diapers to bed. They were pinned onto him several layers thick because he was a heavy wetter. I watched him get diapered many, many times. Troy's mother had just ordered some brand new cloth diapers for him and some plastic pants, but after they arrived she decided to switch Troy to wearing disposables since he was starting to use the thicker cloth diapers too much and he was pooping in them as well. He was also wanting to wear them in the daytime when he wasn't at school and his mother wanted to put a stop to this after finding out from the Internet that boys who are kept in diapers tend to develop a desire to keep wearing them. She figured that with disposables she could keep a limited supply on hand to curtail Troy's apparent desires to wear diapers when he didn't need to wear them. As it turned out, the new cloth diapers were no longer needed. I asked Tyler what his Mom was going to do with them. "I dunno," Tyler said. He then looked at me funny. "Why? Do *you* want them?" "Well, yeah, I do," I said sheepishly. I knew Tyler must have thought I had gone totally nuts, but before he had a chance to comment, I explained my reason. "Mark wants all this Pokemon shit for Christmas, and he said he would like *anything* that has Pokemon on it." It didn't take Tyler long to figure out where this was leading. "You want to make Pokemon diapers or something, right?" Tyler said. "Yep!" I said with a devilish smile. I explained to him that I could get some T-shirt transfer paper and download Pokemon graphics from the Internet and then print them out on the transfer paper. From here the images could be ironed on to the diapers. The best thing about this was that Tyler knew how to iron, so he went in on this effort with me and agreed to help. It was our first day out of school for the Christmas break. Tyler and I went to the office supply store and picked up some T-shirt transfer paper. Then we went back to Tyler's house and got on the Internet. We hit the search engines and brought up a plethora of Pokemon web sites. I located some larger images that I could print out so that they would look nice once ironed on to the diapers. Just for fun I decided to alter the Pokemon logo on the graphics and make them all read "Poopemon" instead. These were diapers that the graphics would be placed onto, after all. Tyler and I were laughing so hard thinking about how long it would take Mark to notice that his diapers said "Poopemon" on them instead of Pokemon. By the end of the afternoon we had taken all twelve of the diapers and ironed Poopemon images onto them. All of them featured the Poopemon graphics on the butt, the same place as where they put the pictures on some boys' underwear. Each diaper came in a re-sealable bag, which made it easy to repackage the individual diapers. While we were at it, I decided to make an official- looking label to stick on the present after I wrapped it. I found a box with a UPS shipping label and modeled my label after it, including the bar codes, which I scanned in. I then did some editing and put "Santa's Workshop, 1225 North Pole Street, North Pole" in place of the return address that appeared on the original label. Obviously I substituted Mark's name and our house address, too. The "1225" address was chosen to coincide with the date of Christmas, 12/25, just for good measure. There was also a supply of diaper pins with the new diapers, so of course I tossed these in. Tyler was also, pardon the pun, gifted when it came to wrapping presents, so I had him wrap the box which contained the diapers. After it was wrapped I stuck the official-looking label on it and carried it home with me. I sneaked the present into the house without anyone noticing and I placed it under the tree where it blended in with all the other presents. I even stuck it in back behind all the other presents. This way nobody would see it until Christmas, and it would likely be Mark's last present to open by being placed in back. This was one Christmas I couldn't wait for! The look on Mark's face upon realizing that Santa Claus brought him diapers would be priceless! Christmas morning had arrived and Mark was already awake. He was squatting down in front of the Christmas tree. He had on a T-shirt and, of course, Pokemon underwear, with the Pokemon logo emblazoned on the butt, just like on the diapers that he would soon be getting. Seeing that he didn't wipe his butt last time he pooped, there was a visible brown streak on the seat, further justifying his need for diapers. Just as I had planned, Mark had opened all his other gifts, including the set of toy race cars that he got from me, not "Santa." Santa's gift would be coming up shortly, I couldn't wait! "Uhh, thanks, Allen," Mark said as he sounded disappointed when he found out that I had gotten him something *other than* Pokemon! "You sound like you don't like your gift," I said, trying to sound serious, like my feelings were hurt for his lack of appreciation. "I told you that I wanted Pokemon stuff," Mark said as he ripped open my present. "Well, there *is* more to life than Pokemon, you know," I said. Mom nodded in agreement when I looked at her. "I don't really want these," Mark said as he threw down the package of race cars. "Mark!" Mom scolded him. "That's no way to treat your brother! You tell him that you're sorry!" "All right, I'm sorry!" Mark pouted. "I don't think you are," Mom scolded him again. "It's not nice to do that to someone when they give you a gift that you don't really like." "But I wanted Pokemon stuff and I TOLD Allen this!" Mark whined. "Yes, Mark, but you don't always get what you want," Mom said. "And Allen is right, you don't have to have all Pokemon stuff." By this time the gift-opening session was about to draw to a close. Just as I had planned, Mark's gift from "Santa" remained the last one to be opened. "What's this?" said my Dad, who had distributed the last of the gifts. He examined the gift that had been tucked so far back behind the tree. "What's it say?" my Mom asked. She hadn't seen the gift, either. "It's from Santa's Workshop," my Dad read the label. "It has Mark's name on it, so it must be Mark's." "Who's it from?" I asked. I could barely contain my laughter. I had to turn my head away while I suppressed my laughs and smirked. "Well, it must be from Santa," my Dad said. My Mom couldn't identify the package, either, of course. "Oh boy! Must be more Pokemon stuff I asked Santa for!" Mark said as he jumped up and down. Never mind the fact that he already had a Pokemon shirt, a set of Pokemon stickers and a Pokemon video given to him, not to mention more Pokemon underwear that he could leave his skidmarks in for all of us to see every time he bent over. Mark quickly ripped open the package and then examined the contents. He picked up one of the diapers, opened the bag in which it was contained, and then he unfolded the diaper. I had the video camera rolling, recording every second of my little brother's astonished expression. "What did you get?" my Dad asked Mark. "It's Pokemon, but I don't know what it is," he said. "Looks like diapers," My Dad said, sounding puzzled. "Diapers?" my Mom also questioned. "I must say that everyone's jumping on the Pokemon bandwagon, but Pokemon DIAPERS?!" I couldn't stand it anymore. I started laughing, fearing that I would give myself away. "Stop laughing!" Mark whined. "I can't believe Santa brought you Pokemon diapers!" I said, trying to sound surprised. "Why did he bring me *diapers?*" Mark asked. "Check the back of your underwear for starters, that might be a good reason," I said with a smile. "Allen!" my Mom scolded. "Take a look!" I said as I pointed out the poop stain on Mark's butt. "You don't exactly do a very good job wiping yourself, Allen," Mom said, dishing back to me the embarrassment that I had given Mark. This gave Mark a chance to laugh. "Yeah, maybe *you* should wear those diapers!" Mark exclaimed. "They're yours, *you* wear them!" I said. "I don't wanna wear diapers!" Mark cried. "Why not?" I asked Mark. "They say Pokemon on them, right?" I said. I was still waiting for him to noticed that they actually said "Poopemon." "Yeah," Mark replied. "You said you would take *anything* that says ' Pokemon' on it." "I didn't think I'd get Pokemon diapers!" Mark complained. "Only babies wear diapers!" "There must be bigger kids who wear them, too, or they wouldn't make them big enough to fit you," I said. "Since Santa brought them to you, you'd better wear them, or he'll be mad at you and not bring you anything next year!" "Mom!" Mark cried. "Santa brought me diapers!" He ran over to my Mom, who hugged him and comforted him. "It must have been a mistake, honey," my Mom told Mark. "Even Santa makes mistakes. Look at all the other little boys and girls he has to deliver to." "Hey Mark, they're *not* Pokemon diapers!" I told him. I couldn't stand to wait any longer. "look at what it says!" "It says POOP-emon," he said as he took a closer look at the diaper. I started laughing even more. "Mom!" Mark bellowed. "They say POOP-E-MON!" I could barely stand it. I kept saying "Poop-e-mon! Poope-e-mon!" over and over, just to rub it in. "Allen, enough!" My Mom shouted. "Come here! Stop teasing your brother!" I went to see Mom in the kitchen. I knew the gig was up at this point. "Where did you get those diapers?" Mom asked me. "I didn't get them, mom, Santa did!" "Oh, so now *you* believe in Santa!" Mom said. "I do now," I said. Mom wasn't buying it. She knew that I had set up this whole thing myself. "You did this, didn't you, Allen?" my Mom said. "Answer me!" "Yes, Mom, I did," I confessed. Mom asked me where I got the diapers and I explained to her what I did, including the images downloaded from the Internet that were ironed on to the diapers. "Why, of all things, did you get Mark diapers?" Dad asked. "Because I just wanted to see how far he'd take this Pokemon obsession he has," I answered. "Well, if I recall correctly, Allen, you went through a Power Rangers phase a few years ago," Mom said. "If we had given you Power Rangers diapers, would you wear them?" "No, probably not," I said. "Then what makes you think that Mark would wear them?" my Dad asked me. "Because they say Pokemon on them, well, Poopemon, but same thing, you know," I said. "I got so tired of Mark believing in Santa Claus, and I got tired of him asking for Pokemon stuff! He said he would take *anything* that said 'Pokemon' on it, so I just wanted to see how serious he really was." Mom continued to stare at me with a stern look to further show her disapproval. "Look, it was just a joke, all right?" I tried to defend myself. "You've embarrassed your little brother and you ruined his Christmas!" my Mom said. "You go in there and confess to him and apologize this instant!" "Yes, Mom," I said. I went back to the living room and confessed to Mark that I made up the diapers. "They came from Santa!" Mark said, still sobbing. "They came from me," I said. "And you should know by now that there is no such thing as Santa Claus, anyway, so I wanted to teach you a lesson." "There is too a Santa Claus!" Mark contended staunchly. "Okay, then there is, and he brought you diapers, okay!" I said. I decided that Mark was still settled on thinking that Santa Claus exists and that Santa brought him diapers. I wasn't going to argue with him anymore about it. I did as Mom told me to do and I confessed, but Mark still didn't believe me in spite of the fact that the gift "Santa" brought him was something that Mark didn't really want. Mark was still sobbing when Mom returned to the room. "I was bad this year!" Mark said. "I knew I'd get in trouble for breaking Mrs. Wilson's window!" "Now Mark, that was last summer and it was an accident, and Mrs. Wilson forgave you for it," my Mom said. "Now come on, it's Christmas, let's enjoy the day." I was so disappointed. All that work and all that setting it up for nothing! I had to get back at Mark for something! I sat there on the couch moping, thinking of something that I could do. Dad had gone outside to shovel the new-fallen snow out of the driveway for the guests we were expecting later today. As I got thinking about the "Poopemon" diapers, I got an idea. Mark was preoccupied with his toys, so I figured this was a good time to go ahead with my plans. I had to take a shit, so I figured the timing for this was perfect. I went back into Mark's bedroom and
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