Subject: Mrs Aspic's Magic Panties (Part 1-3)
From: Sam <yosam@pacbell.net>
Date: Fri, 01 Dec 2000 19:57:51 -0800
Lines: 303
Newsgroups: stories

As requested by LilAndy.... Here ya go.. I did have a copy.....


Mrs. Aspic’s Magic Panties

   Steven’s seventh summer started out simply enough. School was about to let out
for the summer break, the weather was warming and Steven 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 Steven 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 Rachel,
the little girl next door and his classmate. But Rachel’s mom had left a 
referral with Steven’s mom to one Mrs. Aspic, an older lady who occasionally
sat for them on weekends and such.
        Steven 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. Aspic’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 
nieghborhood 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 Steven 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 everytime
we awoke with wet pj’s and sheets. His mom largely ignored the problem, 
confident that he would some day grow out of it but it still bothered Steven a
great deal. So, on this warming Saturday morning, Steven 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. Steven and his mother stood on the porch of 334 Sycamore Street
precisely at 10 a.m. Mother had made sure Steven was neatly dressed in a dressy
short set that Steven 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. Aspic.
        “Come in,” the door swung wide and Steven got his first look at Mrs. Aspic.
She was not as old as he had expected nor as ugly has he had dreamed she’d be.
In fact, Steven was taken aback a little by her beauty and her generous smile.
Probably ten years or so older than his own mother, Mrs. Aspic appeared decades
shy of grandmotherdom to Steven. She was plainly dressed which only accentuated
her natural beauty. “Hi, young man, you must be Steven,” she said as she 
extended her hand to the boy. Steven shook her hand relunctantly.
        The house was modest, much like Steven’s own and the many others filling the
suburban neighborhoods of Steven’s childhood. Neat and orderly, the living room
where they stood now smelled faintly of fresh cookies. Steven liked that and it
put him a little at ease. On the porch waiting for the minute or so for Mrs.
Aspic to answer the door seemed like an eternity to Steven. 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. Aspic, that she was somone he hardly
expected.
        He stood cautiously and nervously as Mrs. Aspic and his mother exchanged
pleasantries, gaging the room and the house. “Let me show you two around,” said
Mrs. Aspic finally and they strolled through the living room and down the hall
to the back of the house. Passing Mrs. Aspic’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 Steven 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.
    Steven couldn’t look away. As if something had hypnotized him, he focussed on
a very small corner fo the changing table where a diaper and a pastel blue
plastic baby panty had been stacked near one another. Mesmerized, Steven stood
and stared.
   “Oh my god, Steven, 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 potty 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. Aspic. “Really, he wets his bed a little but this hasn’t
happened in years!”
   “Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” Mrs. Aspic immediately reassured, “he’s probably
very nervous, it’s not a problem at all.” For just a moment, Mrs. Aspic caught
Steven’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 Steven. 
Steven was spooked.
     It didn’t take much to bring reality back crashing around him though. As
mother continued to profusely apologize, Mrs. Aspic retrieved a few baby wipes
from the room across the hall and they all retreated to the kitchen. Mrs. Aspic
handed a fresh choclate chip cookie to Steven, 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. Steven sat forlornly at the kitchen table on a plastic
covered chair in his wet shorts and underwear, eating his cookie as mother and
Mrs. Aspic went through the details of childcare.
    “See you next week then, bright and early Monday morning,” said Mrs. Aspic as
Steven and his mother walked to the car. Once again, as her eyes flashed,
Steven 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, Steven...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. Aspic could overlook such a
babyish thing and still agree to take you this summer.” Steven wanted
desparately to tell mother all about what he saw in Mrs. Aspic’s eyes, to beg
that she make other arrangements, to explain that he wasn’t even aware he was
wettig his pants, to apologize..anything. But he could only look out the window
and concentrate ever so hard on not crying.


••••••

    Monday morning and Steven 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 reoccurence of Mrs. Apsic’s
twinkling eyes.
     As he dressed himself in the clothes his mother had laid out for him, Steven
grew more and more apprehensive. It wasn’t as if Mrs. Aspic 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. Aspic’s screen door swung shut and Steven watched as his mother drove off
to work. “Well, young man, what would you like to do this morning?” Mrs. Aspic
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 
Steven’s still hypnotic state. Everything from the time he set foot in her
house seemd 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,” Steven 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
Steven’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 Steven 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. Aspic’s voice broke the spell, Steven 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,” Steven 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 Lisa and Jamie, the two children I also care for here during
the week. Jamie is three and Lisa is almost five..closer to your age.” There
was the sparkle again, right in the corner of Mrs. Aspic’s eyes, flashing as
she talked to Steven. “Well, feel free to come and go about the house as you
please Stevie” (she called him Stevie, 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 Steven. He had played some
outside in the backyard where Mrs. Aspic 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.
Aspic’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. Aspic suggested Steven nap, something he hadn’t been
required to do since he was four. He protested vigorously but gave in when Mrs.
Aspic 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. Aspic finally asked, the
flash in her eyes. “No,” said Steven emphatically, the thought of  it scared
him, “no...I don’t wear diapers anymore.”
   “Okay, I just want to make you comfortable,” said Mrs. Aspic. “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.” Steven did as he was told and quietly played until the undeniable
urge to sleep swept him away....



====================================================================================


When Steven 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. Aspic 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 lead Steven
across the hall and into the nursery. Steven couldn’t say a word as she
delicately removed his yellow stained underpants and wet t-shirt. “Let’s get
you some dry things Stevie,” Mrs. Aspic was reaching into a drawer the contents
of which Steven 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 panties 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 panties, Steven was visibly
disturbed. “Don’t worry hon,” Mrs. Aspic reassured, “no one will notice the
difference. Come on, let’s get some cookies.”
        Oh...those chococlate chip cookies, Steven could eat dozens of them. But after
four he was feeling quite content and even relieved Mrs. Aspic hadn’t forced
him into diapers. The training panties 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. Aspic 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 the thoughts of all those
cool toys just begging to be used wiped the last reservations he had about
playing outside in just training panties from his mind.
        Hours later he heard mother’s car, and he jumped up to greet her. He could
hear Mrs. Aspic shout hello and through the kitchen window, he watched as
mother sat down and Mrs. Aspic served her a plate of those delicious cookies
and a cup of coffee, never noticing Steven. 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 Steven
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 panties 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 panties and little bits dribbled down
his legs. He was wetting his pants again.
        He expected mother to be quite upset and Mrs. Aspic 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. Aspic simply rushed him down the hall
to the bathroom, pee streaming from his panties. 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. Aspic left the bathroom and returned with mother in
tow...he could hear them in the hall...”you know boys will be boys,” said Mrs.
Aspic.
        “I know,” said mother, “he has been just a devil to train.” Train? Steven,
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. Aspic helped Steven off the potty,
wiped him again with a baby wipe and helped him into another pair of training
panties, 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. Aspic was...and those chocolate chip cookies!
Didn’t Steven think they were delicious?
        Dazed, confused and a little tormented Steven 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 panties and a lone pair of plastic baby
panties. Resigned, he slipped the little cotton toddler pants on, grateful that
his short-alls (a short verison of coveralls) were plenty baggy enough that no
one could tell he was wearing the training pants.


*********
        Self conscious and already a bit dazed, Steven once again entered the nether
world of Mrs. Aspic’s home. Sure that everyone could tell he was wearing 
training panties, 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.
Aspic’s cookies were and begged for the recipe and left with a small bag of
them on Mrs. Aspic’s insistence.
        It was a bright sunny day and Steven gobbled a few cookies, some milk and made
his way to the back yard. It was a warm sunny day and Steven 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. Aspic appeared with two more
kids. Steven was introduced to Jamie and Lisa, “Stevie, this Jamie and this is
Lisa,” Mrs. Aspic said politely and they all said “hi.”
        “Now I expect you all to play together nicely please,” continued Mrs. Apsic in
a more authoritarian tone, “and behave.” Steven immediately noticed Jamie’s
shorts bulged with diapers.
        “How old are you?” asked Lisa, gregariously.
        “I’m six,” Steven said proudly, “almost seven.”
        “Jamie’s three and a half and I’m five,” said Lisa, holding up five fingers,
“My birthday is in two weeks and then I’ll be six.” As she lifted her arm to
show Steven her fingers, the hem of her sundress came up, revealing to Steven
that she, too, was wearing diapers! The pink plastic panties she was wearing
stretched modestly over a thick white diaper. Steven was aghast. Lisa was
almost as old as he was. The sight of the Lisa’s diapers and plastic panties
first sent shivers down Steven’s spine and then he got a little tingly, that
feeling that this was all really a dream returned.
        Steven invited them to his fort and they all clamored inside and began to
play. What seemed like hours passed, Steven was absorbed by the sight of Lisa’s
diapers. Everytime she moved small patches of pink plastic and white diaper
flashed and each time Steven caught sight, he felt a tingle and was reminded of
his own training panties beneath.
        At one point, Lisa briefly stopped, sat down and fidgeted a bit. With her
dress hiked up, Steven could clearly see Lisa wetting her pants. Her eyes
teared and a large yellow wet spot spread through the crotch and seat of her
panties. Just then the back door swung open and Mrs. Aspic called for the
children, it was already lunch time. As Steven exited the club house he felt an
urge ot 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 panties 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
panties and ran into his socks and shoes.
        Steven stood in front of Mrs. Aspic 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 panties,” said Mrs. Aspic non-chalantly as she ran her finger along
the edge of Lisa’s diaper and patted the back of Jamie’s drooping shorts, the
familiar sparkle flashing again in her eyes. No one said a word about Steven’s
accident and the children were herded into the nursery.
        Where there was two cribs only yesterday, now there were three, Steven noticed
as Mrs. Aspic lifted Jamie onto the changing table. Three cribs...that meant
she might be expecting another baby? Does Lisa really sleep in a crib? 
Jamie...maybe.....but Lisa? “Is another baby coming?” Stevcen asked haltingly
not really wanting to hear an answer.
        “Oh, you might say that,” said Mrs. Aspic as she changed Lisa’s wet diapers.
Lisa’s baby panties were down around her ankles and a fresh diaper was being
pulled between her legs and pinned. Steven was deathly afraid he was next.
“Don’t worry about it now,” said Mrs. Aspic as she unsnapped Steven’s 
short-alls, “let’s get you some dry panties and let’s go eat lunch. Steven’s
wet training panties were replaced with a pair of dry ones, but noticable
thicker ones and they all went to the kitchen for lunch.
        After lunch they played in the playroom for awhile until Mrs. Aspic announced
it was nap time. She herded her charges into the nursery, placing Steven in the
bathroom on the potty chair and proceeded to check Jamie and Lisa’s diapers
again. Both were dry and, leaving only Jamie’s t-shirt on, she removed their
clothes and lifted them each into a crib. Steven 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. Aspic said to Steven as she lifted him
effortlessly off the potty. His chest heaved and Steven 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 familair
grace, Steven was lifted to the changing table and his training panties
removed. “We don’t want an accident like yesterday, do we?” queried Mrs. Aspic
kindly. Slipping a diaper from the shelf beneath the table, she lifted Steven’s
legs with ease. Steven was sure the diaper would never fit him, he was much too
big. Mrs. Aspic 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.
Aspic, “you’re quite a heavy wetter,” and she grabbed another diaper from
beneath and folded under Steven as a doubler. The diaper seemed to expand as
Mrs. Aspic 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 cloth and caught the scent of
the baby powder Mrs. Aspic had liberally applied and taste of choclate chip
cookies sat on his tongue and something changed. As the pins snapped on either
side of his diaper, Steven was caught in the nether world again, feeling both
terror at having to bve back in diapers and secure that no matter what happened
his bed would be dry.
        A sparkle in her eyes, Mrs. Aspic selected a pair of baby blue pastel plastic
panties, the same ones that Steven had seen his first visit and slipped them up
and over his diapers. As she did, Steven felt another tingle...almost as if he
had no control over his potty at all. From the table, Mrs. Aspic swung Steven
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. Aspic swung Steven into the empty crib. Steven wanted to
yell, stomp his feet, cry out, climb out...but all he could do was lie down.
Then the final insult, Mrs. Aspic produced three baby bottles and handed one to
each of her charges. Against everything in his being, Steven 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 chcoclate
chip cookies flowed through his mouth as the warm liquid inside the bottles was
sipped out. The last thing Steven remembered before falling hard asleep was the
urge to pee as if the panties were mysteriously drawing it out of him. Indeed,
a large wet spot formed in Steven’s  diapers and slowly spread through his
panties...



*********

        In that netherland between sleep and wakefulness, Steven 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
bulky cloth redistributed it’s wetness when Steven 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. Aspic was in the room and greeted Steven with a quiet hello and a smile.
“I see we’re up and it looks like we need a a dry diaper,” she said as she
lifted Steven from the crib and on to the changing table. “My, my, we’re very
wet! Maybe you need a thicker diaper young man.” Indeed, Steven was wet to the
pins. Mrs. Apsic made some comment about being surprised Steven hadn’t leaked.
        When Mrs. Aspic slipped the baby panties down, removed the diaper and wiped
him clean, Steven expected to have his underwear returned and lay shocked when
Mrs. Aspic slipped another diaper under his bottom together with a thicker
doubler and quickly pinned 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 Steven’s baby panties were being slipped over
his diapers and Mrs. Aspic 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 cuaght 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 cotton bulk beneath. He
felt greatly shamed by his appearence 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. Aspic 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, Steven was happy when Mrs. Aspic 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. Aspic
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 kicthen and Steven temporarily forgot about his
situation when those wonderful cookies appeared with a glass of cold milk.
After the snack, Mrs. Aspic ushered the three into the backyard and told them
to go ahead and play for awhile. 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 Lisa, Steven 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 desparately 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. Aspic 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 panties 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
panties....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. Aspic as she entered the
playrrom to check her charges. “Was it you?” she asked as she kneaded the back
of first Jamie’s diapers, then Lisa’s. Then standing with her hands on her
hips, she looked right at Steven. “Must be you young man, do you have poopy
panties?”
        “No,” said Steven 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 Steven grew more and more dependnent on diapers and plastic
panties, wearing them now almost all the time. Even out on trips to the beach
and park, Steven was diapered like Lisa and Jamie. 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. Aspic’s habits at home, like bottles at bedtime. Even a trip
to nearby Disneyland was made with Steven in diapers under a short set that
only accentuated the fact he was not toilet trained.
        Despite all this, Steven 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 Steven eventually went back to school, still in diapers and
wet every night. Mother and Mrs. Aspic had remained close and Mrs. Aspic would
occasionally stop by on the weekends with a plate of cookies.
        Evetually, as years passed, Steven 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 Steven, 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 awhile, he would
think of Mrs. Aspic, 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, Steven had met and fallen in love with a wonderful girl and
soon they were engaged. She seemed to possess all the qualities Steven had
yearned for in a companion: she was beautiful, talented, assured, loving and
especially nurturing...something that Steven found exceptionally appealing.
        He spent a lot of time with his fiance and one day, standing in a grocery line
Steven was surprised by a familiar voice behind him, “Hi, Steven...”
        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. Aspic, as young, as confident, as loving as the
day he met her! “Hi...uh, Mrs. Apic...huh....,” he stammered.
        “Oh Steven you’ve grown to be such a lovely boy...how are you?” Mrs. Aspic
continued.
        “Fine Mrs. Aspic, this is my fiance, Beth...Beth this is Mrs.
Aspic....uuhhhh,” Steven was taken aback. The couple exchanged greetings.
        “I used to sit for young Steven way back when,” continued Mrs. Apsic, when he
was just a lad...still a babe really.”
        Steven was by now bright red, certain Mrs. Aspic was going to begin telling
stories about changing diapers. “Just here buying some ingredients for those
chcoclate chip cookies you liked so much,” she continued happily. “So nice to
see you Steven, please say you and Beth will come visit me sometime, I’m in the
same house you know.”
        And as she reached out and touched Steven’s arm, Steven, unable to do a thing,
watched helplessly as a dark, wet spot formed in his crotch and spread down
each leg...

the end