Mrs. Rhyan’s Magic Panties
Jake’s seventh summer started out simply enough. School was about to let out for the summer break, the weather was warming and Jake was busily making plans on how to spend all his free time. Little did he know how the next few months were going to change things, for life. As usual, his mother was trying to arrange day care for the hours she would be at work now that school was out. In previous years, their next door neighbor had taken Jake in, but this summer, the family had plans and couldn’t take him every day. He was a bit sad, he would miss playing each day with Austin, his best friend, next door neighbor and classmate. But Austin’s mom had left a referral with Jake’s mom to one Mrs. Rhyan, a young lady who occasionally sat for them on weekends and such. Jake was a little apprehensive, he wasn’t sure staying with someone he didn’t know was going to be any fun and when he learned he might be staying at Mrs. Rhyan’s house instead of his own, he was downright depressed. “Don’t worry hon,” his mother consoled him, “I’m sure there are tons of kids in her neighborhood and you’ll get along fine. We’ll meet her and spend some time with her before we decide about it.” The Saturday meeting date quickly arrived and Jake was up early, feeling nervous, and, as with many kids his age, wet. It wasn’t often he wet the bed anymore, but even at twice a week, he felt ashamed and little babyish every time we awoke with wet pj’s and sheets. His mom largely ignored the problem, confident that he would someday grow out of it but it still bothered Jake a great deal. So, on this warming Saturday morning, Jake tried his best to be happy about his upcoming summer despite a less than stellar beginning. “Hello and welcome,” came the matronly voice from the other side of the screen. Jake and his mother stood on the porch of 334 Sycamore Street precisely at 10 a.m. Mother had made sure Jake was neatly dressed in a dressy short set that Jake detested. He’d have much preferred plain old jeans and a t-shirt or at least some play shorts. He thought this capri set made him look stupid and babyish but his mother wanted him to look sharp for their first meeting with Mrs. Rhyan. “Come in,” the door swung wide and Jake got his first look at Mrs. Rhyan. She was not as old as he had expected nor as ugly has he had dreamed she’d be. In fact, Jake was taken aback a little by her beauty and her generous smile. Probably ten years or so younger than his own mother, Mrs. Rhyan appeared barely old enough to be a parent to Jake. She was plainly dressed which only accentuated her natural beauty. “Hi, young man, you must be Jake,” she said as she extended her hand to the boy. Jake shook her hand reluctantly. The house was modest, much like Jake’s own and the many others filling the suburban neighborhoods of Jake’s childhood. Neat and orderly, the living room where they stood now smelled faintly of fresh cookies. Jake liked that and it put him a little at ease. On the porch waiting for the minute or so for Mrs. Rhyan to answer the door seemed like an eternity to Jake. He was nervous, very nervous; so nervous we thought he might start crying at any moment. It was small consolation when he finally met Mrs. Rhyan that she was someone he hardly expected. He stood cautiously and nervously as Mrs. Rhyan and his mother exchanged pleasantries, gaging the room and the house. “Let me show you two around,” said Mrs. Rhyan finally and they strolled through the living room and down the hall to the back of the house. Passing Mrs. Rhyan’s bedroom they stopped short and she pointed out a small room with a bed and some toys, “This is the rest and playroom,” she said proudly and the two women began chatting about something that poor Jake blanked on immediately. As he stood in the doorway of the room and the narrow hall, he looked anxiously across the hall and through another door. Through the opening he saw two cribs, a corner of a changing table with stacks of diapers and other baby things. Jake couldn’t look away. As if something had hypnotized him, he focused on a very small corner of the changing table where a diaper and a pastel blue plastic baby panty had been stacked near one another. Mesmerized, Jake stood and stared. “Oh my god, Jake, look at you. What have you done?” Mother’s voice cracked the spell and he looked into her face and instantly knew he was in trouble. But for what? Then he felt the last little trickle of warm pee-pees run down his leg and into his socks and shoes. He had wet his pants! “What’s gotten into you?” mother continued, “I am so sorry. He hasn’t done that in ages,” she said apologetically to Mrs. Rhyan. “Really, he wets his bed a little but this hasn’t happened in years!” “Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” Mrs. Rhyan immediately reassured, “he’s probably very nervous, it’s not a problem at all.” For just a moment, Mrs. Rhyan caught Jake’s eye and, it was hard to tell, but he swore that her eyes flashed or sparkled or something and…she grinned. Yeah, smiled slyly like she had a secret or that she knew something or that she shared something with Jake. Jake was spooked. It didn’t take much to bring reality back crashing around him though. As mother continued to profusely apologize, Mrs. Rhyan retrieved a few baby wipes from the room across the hall and they all retreated to the kitchen. Mrs. Rhyan handed a fresh chocolate chip cookie to Jake, against mother’s wishes, “Don’t worry, please, I’ve seen it happen thousands of times. He didn’t even get the floor wet,” she said. Jake sat forlornly at the kitchen table on a plastic covered chair in his wet shorts and underwear, eating his cookie as mother and Mrs. Rhyan went through the details of childcare. “See you next week then, bright and early Monday morning,” said Mrs. Rhyan as Jake and his mother walked to the car. Once again, as her eyes flashed, Jake sensed he saw something in her eyes and her smile again but was too caught up in the shame and humiliation of his condition. “I never, Jake…what got into you?” fumed mother once they were in the car headed back home. He could only look at her sheepishly. “I hope this isn’t a sign of your behavior to come. I’m just happy Mrs. Rhyan could overlook such a babyish thing and still agree to take you this summer.” Jake wanted desperately to tell mother all about what he saw in Mrs. Rhyan’s eyes, to beg that she make other arrangements, to explain that he wasn’t even aware he was wetting his pants, to apologize..anything. But he could only look out the window and concentrate ever so hard on not crying.
Monday morning and Jake was up early, relieved his bed was finally dry. He hadn’t been so lucky Saturday night. His dreams had sent him on a rollercoaster ride of psychic pain and pleasure and, when Sunday morning arrived, he awoke confused and soaking wet. His dreams had been filled with the images of toddlerhood, teddy bears and binkies and favorite blankets and cuddly cribs…and the nightmares of potty training and the humiliation of diapers. But the most striking feature of his dreams was the reoccurrence of Mrs. Rhyan’s twinkling eyes. As he dressed himself in the clothes his mother had laid out for him, Jake grew more and more apprehensive. It wasn’t as if Mrs. Rhyan was mean or even scary, in fact there was something very reassuring about her. But he couldn’t shake the feeling he was headed into something he couldn’t begin to understand or control. Mrs. Rhyan’s screen door swung shut and Jake watched as his mother drove off to work. “Well, young man, what would you like to do this morning?” Mrs. Rhyan inquired, “Help me with my chores or watch some television and play while I finish cleaning up?” Her voice was only added more hypnotic qualities to Jake’s still hypnotic state. Everything from the time he set foot in her house seemed like a dream to him, something that was happening to someone else while he watched. “I’d like to watch TV I guess,” he heard himself say. “Great, the TV’s in the playroom,” she said and flashed a smile with her eyes. As he passed the “nursery,” Jake looked away. But sitting watching cartoons in the playroom, he couldn’t resist looking through the door and into the room. Soon, he wasn’t even paying any attention to the TV, he was craning his neck, almost against his will, to see what he could see. The door, slightly ajar, obscured most of the room except for the corner of the changing table where Jake’s troubles all began on Saturday. He could see the diapers, all folded neatly and stacked and just the corner of another stack of baby panties, in all different colors. The TV soon faded into the background, he couldn’t even hear it anymore. Time seemed suspended and Jake felt himself get up and walk to the edge of the playroom to get a better look at the nursery. Some part of him was daring the other part to get closer…closer. When Mrs. Rhyan’s voice broke the spell, Jake found himself just inside the nursery, “Did you want to play with something in here?” she asked, eyes sparkling brilliantly as they had the Saturday before. “Uhhhh..no… I was just…curious,” Jake was confused and angry at himself. “Do you take care of babies too?” he asked, trying to cover up his interest. “Yes I do,” she said, “I love babies and toddlers. In fact, tomorrow, you’ll be meeting little Koda and Kolton, the two children I also care for here during the week. Kolton is three and Koda is almost five, closer to your age.” There was the sparkle again, right in the corner of Mrs. Rhyan’s eyes, flashing as she talked to Jake. “Well, feel free to come and go about the house as you please Jay” (she called him Jay, something everybody had called him as a baby and toddler and a name he hated and always, always associated with being a baby). The rest of the day passed, much too slowly for Jake. He had played some outside in the backyard where Mrs. Rhyan had a sand box, a climbing device and a very cool club house. He willed himself to stay away from the nursery, afraid if he might repeat the accident from Saturday. And he decided he loved Mrs. Rhyan’s chocolate chip cookies…they tasted like nothing he had ever tasted and they always felt warm, fresh baked and satisfying, even from the cookie jar in the kitchen. After lunch, Mrs. Rhyan suggested Jake nap, something he hadn’t been required to do since he was four. He protested vigorously but gave in when Mrs. Rhyan suggested they call it a rest and said he didn’t have to sleep he if didn’t want to. “Now, your mother mentioned you sometimes wet when you sleep, would you feel more comfortable in a diaper?” Mrs. Rhyan finally asked, the flash in her eyes. “No,” said Jake emphatically, the thought of it scared him, “no…I don’t wear diapers anymore.” “Okay, I just want to make you comfortable,” said Mrs. Rhyan. “But I am going to ask that you take your shorts off and put them here,” she motioned to a chair in the playroom, “and you can rest or play quietly on this mat for about an hour.” Jake did as he was told and quietly played until the undeniable urge to sleep swept him away…
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When Jake awoke, there was that terrible feeling of not knowing exactly where he was and then the even worse feeling of wetness all around him. Even though it had only been a nap, he had soaked his underwear, the pad and even the bottom of his t-shirt. The horror and embarrassment of this sent him into a panic, he furtively scanned the room for anything that might help him clean this mess up, cover it up or just make it go away. “Oh, you’re awake dear,” Mrs. Rhyan was standing over him. There was no denying the accident now. “Oh, look at you,” she continued with just a hint of exasperation in her voice. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” She led Jake across the hall and into the nursery. Jake couldn’t say a word as she delicately removed his yellow stained underpants and wet t-shirt. “Let’s get you some dry things Jay,” Mrs. Rhyan was reaching into a drawer the contents of which Jake was sure was diapers. He couldn’t see, it was a top drawer, and he was on the brink of crying when, to his great relief, she pulled out a pair of underwear. But wait…it wasn’t underwear at all…it was white alright but he could see as she turned that the briefs had a thick cloth panel in the crotch. As she came around behind him to slip them on he could see faint yellow stains in the crotch. These were training pants! “I’m sorry I don’t have any big boy pants for you but these should do,” she said as she slipped them to his knees and turned toward the changing table for a baby wipe. Clean, powdered and now in training pants, Jake was visibly disturbed. “Don’t worry hon,” Mrs. Rhyan reassured, “no one will notice the difference. Come on, let’s get some cookies.” Oh…those chocolate chip cookies, Jake could eat dozens of them. But after four he was feeling quite content and even relieved Mrs. Rhyan hadn’t forced him into diapers. The training pants were okay, he rationalized, as long as he could get his shorts on, no one would notice. Oh yeah! His shorts! With crumbs still streaming from his mouth he swung on the kitchen chair to ask for his shorts back. But he couldn’t find the words. He knew what he wanted… but the words wouldn’t come. He cleared his throat, swallowed hard and tried asking again… but nothing. Mrs. Rhyan suggested he play out back in the sand box and he found himself, much to his chagrin, saying okay and heading to the back door. Well, it looked like no one could see him and the thoughts of all those cool toys just begging to be used wiped the last reservations he had about playing outside in just training pants from his mind. Hours later he heard mother’s car, and he jumped up to greet her. He could hear Mrs. Rhyan shout hello and through the kitchen window, he watched as mother sat down and Mrs. Rhyan served her a plate of those delicious cookies and a cup of coffee, never noticing Jake. Then it hit him, he needed to go potty…bad. He tried to move his legs, to stand and head towards the house but they felt like a ton of bricks. The urge pressed hard on his bladder and Jake knew he’d have to hurry. His legs just wouldn’t cooperate fast enough. He tried to shout as he struggled up the steps…I NEED TO GO POTTY! But, as he opened the screen door to the kitchen, it was almost as if the pants he was wearing drew the moisture from his body. As he entered the room, a large yellow wet spot darkened the soaker panels of his pants and little bits dribbled down his legs. He was wetting his pants again. He expected mother to be quite upset and Mrs. Rhyan to be furious after he had wet himself at nap time. But to his complete surprise, neither of them barely noticed. Mother chuckled a bit and Mrs. Rhyan simply guided him down the hall to the bathroom, pee streaming from his pants. In the bathroom, and without a word, she stripped him down and sat him on a potty seat atop the toilet where he finished peeing. Mrs. Rhyan left the bathroom and returned with mother in tow…he could hear them in the hall…”you know boys will be boys,” said Mrs. Rhyan. “I know,” said mother, “he has been just a devil to train.” Train? Jake, except for an occasional nighttime accident, was perfectly potty trained, he thought to himself. He knew how to use the potty, this was humiliating and getting scary. Normally mother would be furious as she was the day he had wet his pants before. They both came into the bathroom and Mrs. Rhyan helped Jake off the potty, wiped him again with a baby wipe and helped him into another pair of training pants, this one with little animals on them. On the ride home, mother never even mentioned the accident…she could only go on and on about what a find Mrs. Rhyan was…and those chocolate chip cookies! Didn’t Jake think they were delicious? Dazed, confused and a little tormented Jake readied himself for bed that night, careful not to drink any liquids and resolute in staying awake all night if that’s what it took to keep his bed dry. The next morning, he awoke with the sun, sopping wet, even wetter than normal. His jammies were soaked to the neck line and his bed was soaked to the mattress. Mother never said a word. After breakfast, he returned to his room to find his favorite pair of short-alls (they were filled with pockets to keep his stuff in, loose and cool) laid out on the bed next to a t-shirt and…another pair of training pants! He shot to his dresser and ripped open the drawer where his underwear was kept but there was no underwear, only training pants and a lone pair of plastic baby panties. Resigned, he slipped the little cotton toddler pants on, grateful that his short-alls (a short version of coveralls) were plenty baggy enough that no one could tell he was wearing the training pants.
Self-conscious and already a bit dazed, Jake once again entered the nether world of Mrs. Rhyan’s home. Sure that everyone could tell he was wearing training pants, he was grateful mother seemed to ignore the plastic panties in his drawer at home. At the door, mother went on and on about how good Mrs. Rhyan’s cookies were and begged for the recipe and left with a small bag of them on Mrs. Rhyan’s insistence. It was a bright sunny day and Jake gobbled a few cookies, some milk and made his way to the back yard. It was a warm sunny day and Jake set out to make this a better day. After an hour or so— he was busy setting up a fort in the clubhouse—, the back door swung open and Mrs. Rhyan appeared with two more kids. Jake was introduced to Kolton and Koda, “Jay, this Kolton and this is Koda,” Mrs. Rhyan said politely and they all said “hi.” “Now I expect you all to play together nicely please,” continued Mrs. Rhyan in a more authoritarian tone, “and behave.” Jake immediately noticed Kolton’s shorts bulged with diapers. “How old are you?” asked Koda, gregariously. “I’m six,” Jake said proudly, “almost seven.” “Kolton’s three and a half and I’m five,” said Koda, holding up five fingers, “My birthday is in two weeks and then I’ll be six.” As she lifted her arm to show Jake her fingers, the hem of her sundress came up, revealing to Jake that she, too, was wearing diapers! The pink plastic panties she was wearing stretched modestly over a thick white diaper. Jake was aghast. Koda was almost as old as he was. The sight of the Koda’s diapers and plastic panties first sent shivers down Jake’s spine and then he got a little tingly, that feeling that this was all really a dream returned. Jake invited them to his fort and they all clamored inside and began to play. What seemed like hours passed, Jake was absorbed by the sight of Koda’s diapers. Every time she moved small patches of pink plastic and white diaper flashed and each time Jake caught sight, he felt a tingle and was reminded of his own training pants beneath. At one point, Koda briefly stopped, sat down and fidgeted a bit. With her dress hiked up, Jake could clearly see Koda wetting her pants. Her eyes watered and a large yellow wet spot spread through the crotch and seat of her panties. Just then the back door swung open and Mrs. Rhyan called for the children, it was already lunch time. As Jake exited the club house he felt an urge to go potty himself and mentally fought hard to hold it. He could feel a little wet spot form in the absorbent panels of his own pants and no matter how hard he tried to hold it, the wet spot kept getting bigger and bigger. Headed toward the house, he broke into a run as his potty streamed from his pants and ran into his socks and shoes. Jake stood in front of Mrs. Rhyan startled and out of breath, again ashamed at the accident he had just made in his pants. “Seems all of you probably need some dry pants,” said Mrs. Rhyan nonchalantly as she ran her finger along the edge of Koda’s diaper and patted the back of Kolton’s drooping shorts, the familiar sparkle flashing again in her eyes. No one said a word about Jake’s accident and the children were herded into the nursery. Where there was two cribs only yesterday, now there were three, Jake noticed as Mrs. Rhyan lifted Kolton onto the changing table. Three cribs…that meant she might be expecting another baby? Does Koda really sleep in a crib? Kolton…maybe…but Koda? “Is another baby coming?” Jake asked haltingly not really wanting to hear an answer. “Oh, you might say that,” said Mrs. Rhyan as she changed Koda’s wet diapers. Koda’s baby panties were down around her ankles and a fresh diaper was being pulled between her legs and pinned. Jake was deathly afraid he was next. “Don’t worry about it now,” said Mrs. Rhyan as she unsnapped Jake’s short-alls, “let’s get you some dry pants and let’s go eat lunch. Jake’s wet training pants were replaced with a pair of dry ones, but noticeably thicker ones and they all went to the kitchen for lunch. After lunch they played in the playroom for a while until Mrs. Rhyan announced it was nap time. She herded her charges into the nursery, placing Jake in the bathroom on the potty chair and proceeded to check Kolton and Koda’s diapers again. Both were dry and, leaving only Kolton’s t-shirt on, she removed their clothes and lifted them each into a crib. Jake half expected to return to the playroom like yesterday and rest in there while the others napped in their cribs. “Okay young man, your turn,” Mrs. Rhyan said to Jake as she lifted him effortlessly off the potty. His chest heaved and Jake felt as if he was going to lose the lunch he just finished eating. No way…not me…please, I don’t want to do this. But his lips never moved, he never budged. With the familiar grace, Jake was lifted to the changing table and his training pants removed. “We don’t want an accident like yesterday, do we?” queried Mrs. Rhyan kindly. Slipping a diaper from the shelf beneath the table, she lifted Jake’s legs with ease. Jake was sure the diaper would never fit him, he was much too big. Mrs. Rhyan slipped the diaper under his bottom, “Oh my, mmmmm.” This was it, he wasn’t going to have to wear a diaper. “I forgot,” said Mrs. Rhyan, “you’re quite a heavy wetter,” and she replaced the first diaper and grabbed another, thicker diaper from beneath. The diaper seemed to expand as Mrs. Rhyan pulled it between his legs, fitting him perfectly as if it were made for him. By now, he was practically crying. But then the diaper was pulled up between his legs and he felt the warmth of the padding and caught the scent of the baby powder Mrs. Rhyan had liberally applied and taste of chocolate chip cookies sat on his tongue and something changed. As the tapes snapped on either side of his diaper, Jake was caught in the nether world again, feeling both terror at having to be back in diapers and secure that no matter what happened his bed would be dry. A sparkle in her eyes, Mrs. Rhyan selected a pair of baby blue pastel plastic panties, the same ones that Jake had seen his first visit and slipped them up and over his diapers. As she did, Jake felt another tingle…almost as if he had no control over his potty at all. From the table, Mrs. Rhyan swung Jake to the floor and folded the final edges of his diapers under the elastic edges of the baby panties. He could see himself in the mirror and felt ashamed, standing in nothing more than his diapers, bulging out like a toddler, and his t-shirt. “Up we go,” and Mrs. Rhyan swung Jake into the empty crib. Jake wanted to yell, stomp his feet, cry out, climb out…but all he could do was lie down. Then the final insult, Mrs. Rhyan produced three baby bottles and handed one to each of her charges. Against everything in his being, Jake wanted to fling the bottle but again, he couldn’t. His hands grasped the bottle and slowly placed the nipple in his lips. There was the taste! Freshly baked chocolate chip cookies flowed through his mouth as the warm liquid inside the bottles was sipped out. The last thing Jake remembered before falling hard asleep was the urge to pee as if the pants were mysteriously drawing it out of him. Indeed, a large wet spot formed in Jake’s diapers and slowly spread through his panties…
In that netherland between sleep and wakefulness, Jake slumbered briefly, snug, warm and comfortable. Squeezing his legs together he was gently reminded of the diapers between his legs. He was barely aware of a warm squish as the saturated polymers redistributed their wetness when Jake moved his legs under his blanket. Becoming more aware, he was momentarily pleasured by the feeling and noticed the plastic panties slipped generously on the sheet underneath. As he awoke, he again felt the urgent need to pee followed quickly by a slight spasm and a warm wetness spreading again around his loins. Alarmed, he stood immediately in the crib and his panties sagged noticeably under the weight of the wetness. Mrs. Rhyan was in the room and greeted Jake with a quiet hello and a smile. “I see we’re up and it looks like we need a dry diaper,” she said as she lifted Jake from the crib and on to the changing table. “My, my, we’re very wet! Maybe you need a thicker diaper young man.” Indeed, Jake was so wet that the diaper had begun leaking into the plastic pants. Mrs. Rhyan made some comment about being surprised Jake hadn’t gotten the sheets wet. When Mrs. Rhyan slipped the baby panties down, untaped the diaper and wiped him clean, Jake expected to have his underwear returned and lay shocked when Mrs. Rhyan slipped another diaper under his bottom and quickly taped it around his waist. He was being put back into diapers! Again, the core of his being wanted to yell out in protest, he wanted to fling his body from the table and run from the room and never come back! But he could only lay there and fret. The other two kids stirred while Jake’s baby panties were being slipped over his diapers and Mrs. Rhyan helped him down from the table. He stood watching the other two get changed, standing in his diapers, plastic panties and t-shirt when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrored door of the closet. He was fascinated by his look. He looked nothing like the 8-year old he knew he was…his crotch and bottom bulged hugely with the bulk of the diapers whose outline was just visible under the now pastel yellow panties, the little elastic edges of the panties straining against the soft bulk beneath. He felt greatly shamed by his appearance yet the feeling of it made him warm and comfortable and cared for…like the toddler whose image appeared in the mirror. Hoping against hope that Mrs. Rhyan would at least let him have his short-alls back so he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the day with these diapers showing, Jake was happy when Mrs. Rhyan grabbed them from the changing table and proceeded to help him on with them. Relieved that his diapers and baby panties were at least covered, he hardly noticed the changes in the garment he had first put on that morning and had shed before his nap. But as Mrs. Rhyan helped him on with his shoes, he watched as the crotch gapped noticeably as he brought his leg up to tie his shoe. There were snaps now on the legs, even placed all the way around…just like a babies! Even more horrifying was the very audible crinkling noise his plastic panties made when he walked, which, with such thick diapers on, was more like a toddler waddle. They all sat in the kitchen and Jake temporarily forgot about his situation when those wonderful cookies appeared with a glass of cold milk. After the snack, Mrs. Rhyan ushered the three into the backyard and told them to go ahead and play for a while. Soon, an afternoon thunderstorm, common to area, began, at first with singular large drops, quickly becoming a downpour. All three kids ran to the house and resumed play in the playroom. Involved with a game with Koda, Jake was only remotely aware of his babied state, content to let it pass with time. Suddenly, he felt a brief spasm and noticed again he was wetting his pants without control. And then…from deep in his tummy…he felt pressure, the kind of pressure that would have ordinarily sent him scurrying to the potty with due haste. He desperately wanted to run down the hall to the bathroom, shed his diapers and complete his business on the potty. He wanted to shout to Mrs. Rhyan in the next room that he needed to go. But the more he struggled to do these things, the more paralyzed he became. The more he struggled to hold on to his poop, the more relentless the pressure became until, as if drawn from him against his will by the very diaper he was wearing, he felt himself relax…and then, squatting with bent knees, he was pushing…pooping his panties. A little at first, then as he pushed in earnest, large wet poops pushed out, up his bottom and into his crotch, filling the back of his panties…once, twice, three times he pushed hard until the pressure was gone and more wetness flowed forth without a hint of abandon. He had pooped his pants…actually messed in his diapers and now it was spreading, squishing around his loins and bottom as he moved. “I think somebody’s pooped their panties,” said Mrs. Rhyan as she entered the playroom to check her charges. “Was it you?” she asked as she kneaded the back of first Kolton’s diapers, then Koda’s. Then standing with her hands on her hips, she looked right at Jake. “Must be you young man, do you have poopy panties?” “No,” said Jake sheepishly, afraid to admit his accident…”it’s not me,” he pleaded as she spun him around and felt the back of his panties. The diapers were a little too thick to make certain but with a quick whiff at the seat of his pants, she knew it was him.
As summer drew on Jake grew more and more dependent on diapers and plastic panties, wearing them now almost all the time. Even out on trips to the beach and park, Jake was diapered like Koda and Kolton. He was certainly self-conscious about wearing them, a little tortured even, especially when other kids would stare at him, but nothing he did or said ever made a bit difference. At home, diapers and an array of plastic panties had replaced his underwear and even the training panties that had been in the dresser only weeks before. His mother had said nary a word about his infantile behavior and even began to mimic some of Mrs. Rhyan’s habits at home, like bottles at bedtime. Even a trip to nearby Disneyland was made with Jake in diapers under a short set that only accentuated the fact he was not toilet trained. Despite all this, Jake was beginning to get used to it. Resigned to the fact that he could no longer hold it at all, he grew increasingly grateful that at least the diapers and baby panties however visible for their bulk and rustling, kept everything neatly and tidily in his pants. Summer passed and Jake eventually went back to school, still in diapers and wet every night. Mother and Mrs. Rhyan had remained close and Mrs. Rhyan would occasionally stop by on the weekends with a plate of cookies. Eventually, as years passed, Jake mastered daytime pottying again for the most part but never ever regained nighttime control. Even as a teenager, he wet his bed nightly and mother insisted on diapers and plastic panties which she helped him with every night.
For Jake, diapers eventually became a thing of the past. As he matured, even his nightly wettings abated with only an occasional relapse but the vivid memories remained, hidden well within his mind. Every once in a while, he would think of Mrs. Rhyan, kind thoughts really, and they always brought about a sense of immediate bathroom urgency much to his chagrin. Catching a rare glimpse of a toddler or baby in diapers seem to have much the same effect and he even caught himself a few times spotting his underwear as he remembered his own baby panties. As a young adult, Jake had met and fallen in love with a wonderful girl and soon they were engaged. She seemed to possess all the qualities Jake had yearned for in a companion: she was beautiful, talented, assured, loving and especially nurturing…something that Jake found exceptionally appealing. He spent a lot of time with his fiancé and one day, standing in a grocery line Jake was surprised by a familiar voice behind him, “Hi, Jake…” The voice, it was so familiar, rushes of emotions shot through his body…it couldn’t be…she would have to be at 70 years old by now…he turned and there, behind him line was Mrs. Rhyan, as young, as confident, as loving as the day he met her! “Hi…uh, Mrs. Rhyan…huh…,” he stammered. “Oh Jake you’ve grown to be such a lovely boy…how are you?” Mrs. Rhyan continued. “Fine Mrs. Rhyan, this is my fiancé, Julie…Julie this is Mrs. Rhyan…uuhhhh,” Jake was taken aback. The couple exchanged greetings. “I used to sit for young Jake way back when,” continued Mrs. Rhyan, when he was just a lad…still a babe really.” Jake was by now bright red, certain Mrs. Rhyan was going to begin telling stories about changing diapers. “Just here buying some ingredients for those chocolate chip cookies you liked so much,” she continued happily. “So nice to see you Jake, please say you and Julie will come visit me sometime, I’m in the same house you know.” And as she reached out and touched Jake’s arm, Jake, unable to do a thing, watched helplessly as a dark, wet spot formed in his crotch and spread down each leg…