It all started with the most innocent of reasons. My mother, who was a Registered Nurse, found out that the hospital where she worked paid a premium for night shifts. That was a pretty good reason for her to switch to working nights but when she realized she wouldn't have to pay for after-school baby sitters for me it made even more sense.
She knew there were lots of extra beds in the kids ward so why not take me to work with her and let me sleep at the hospital? Her boss and coworkers agreed and I went along with it all. I was only 9 and still pretty impressed with hospitals - based on medical dramas on TV. I figured it would be exciting - and I was right but in ways that I couldn't have predicted.
Although only 9 I had discovered that I liked to be helpless. Whenever we played at tying each other up I was always the first to volunteer to be the victim. There was something powerful about being unable to move. I was too young to think of this in a sexual context but that didn't stop me from being attracted to it.
The first night I was to sleep at the hospital was very exciting. Mom helped me pack some clothes and pajamas. I would walk to school from the hospital the next morning. I had to bring my homework with me. We got there a few minutes before Mom's shift started at 7 p.m. She showed me where I'd be sleeping and I got my first surprise of the night. My "bed" would be pediatric crib, complete with a cage of steel bars and rubber covered mattress.
Thinking I'd be afraid of such a bed, Mom began to apologize, saying that she'd make the bed up nice and that I wouldn't have to have the side of the crib closed. How could I tell her that I was thrilled. For the next hour I did my homework at a desk in the nursing station. Then Mom took me to the "day" room to meet some of the other kids who were at the hospital for treatment.
Most of them were really glad to have someone new to play with. I noticed right away that about half of them wore diapers and plastic pants under their hospital gowns or pajamas. I felt strangely attracted to these kids, though I'd never before thought of diapers very much. It's just that these kids, all of whom were too old to be in diapers for the usual reason, looked like they were under a sort of control and THAT did excite me.
About nine o'clock there was a general move towards the wards. I watched as kid after kid stopped by a changing table near the door to have his or her diapers checked. If the diapers were too wet or dirty new ones were swiftly applied. Anyone who hadn't been wearing diapers up to that point was put into them, covered by a pair of heavy grade, frosty plastic pants.
Soon, I was the only kid in the ward not in diapers. No one seemed to care about that so I headed for my crib. I felt strange to be treated differently. Once we were all in bed the nurses went around raising the crib sides. The clanging of the metal bars sounded like a symphony to me. I watched as young face after young face peered back at me through the shiny chrome bars.
I secretly wanted to be like them but I just couldn't find the words to ask - who would believe that I wanted those things to happen to me. As I crawled into my crib Mom assured me that I wouldn't have to wear diapers or have my crib side up - the exact opposite of what I wanted! I smiled and let her kiss me good night. As I listened to the room full of kids toss and turn I began to wonder what it would feel like to be in one of those closed cribs, wearing thick diapers sealed inside frosty plastic pants.
I fell asleep hoping that somehow I'd find out. As it turns out I didn't have long to wait. The next thing I knew I was awake. There was an older woman in a nurse's uniform standing next to the crib. My Mom was beside her and they were talking about me. "I have no problem with him sleeping in an otherwise vacant crib," the older woman said quietly, "but we must respect insurance regulations. The fact that his side is down will encourage others to want their sides open. I must insist that his crib be secured.
"There was a bit of a pause then she continued, with words I'll never forget. "Of course, we can't have you running to him every time he needs to be let out to use the bathroom. Put night thickness diapers on him from now on and make sure he knows that no matter how much he calls for you, he must not expect to be let out for any reason." "Yes, Ma'am" My mother replied.
It was all I could do not to shout for joy. A few seconds later my Mom was back at the crib, gently wakening me. "I'm sorry, Jamie, but the Head Nurse insists that your crib be locked and that means I'll have to put you back into diapers at night. I know it's not much fun but no one but the people here at the hospital will ever know." I pretended to be half asleep as she peeled down my pajama bottoms and then slid a thick pile of cloth diapers underneath my bottom.
It felt just as soft and warm as I'd thought. She fastened them tightly, pinning them at both the waist and legs. I felt as if I was being bound up in warm soft cotton. It was all I could do not to moan with delight. Still feigning sleep I went limp as she worked a pair of plastic pants up my legs and over my diapers. As she pulled them over my bulging diapers I felt a thrill pass through my body. I was in heaven.
She took the bottoms of my pajamas away and then raised the side of the crib. Two resounding clangs announced that, just like every other kid in the room, I was locked in for the night. If I had to use the bathroom my diapers would have to serve. I thought myself one lucky kid indeed. About four or five in the morning I woke up with a full bladder. At home I'd just pad down the hall to the bathroom and then head back to bed.
Suddenly the reality of what had been done to me came into focus. I had to pee really badly. I tried to let it out while lying down but nature wouldn't cooperate. Finally I got up onto my knees and then, with the roof bars pressing into the top of my head (reminding me I was confined) I was able to release the hot pee into my diaper. It was the most extraordinary thing I'd ever felt and I swooned with pleasure.
Once the stream was over I laid back down and felt the thick cloth diapers soak up my pee. I remember looking through the bars and thinking that I was SUPPOSED to wet my diapers. I HAD NO OTHER CHOICE. It was not unlike being tied up and the feelings of being helpless washed over me. I didn't sleep another wink that night but I was sure to pretend to be asleep when Mom came to wake me for the day.
She was all apologies when she realized that my diaper was soaked. "Did you wake up to pee?" she asked, "Did you call for me?". On impulse I lied and it turned out to be a smart move. "Gee, Mom, no, sorry. I don't remember a thing. I just went to sleep and woke up like this." She looked at me strangely and then showed me where I could take a shower. That day at school I couldn't concentrate.
I was so excited about going back to the hospital that I almost forgot my homework at school. When we got to work Mom's boss told her that she didn't want me wearing street clothes in the day room. I had to get into my pajamas right away. She added that I might as well be put into my night diapers at the same time. Mom apologized to me again but I reassured her that it was OK with me because it made me feel more like the other kids.
That seemed to make sense to her and she seemed to enjoy putting diapers on me from then on. For me, being able to run about the day room with thick diapers on, sealed safe inside a pair of plastic pants that soon made everything nice and warm was just about as close to heaven as I could wish to be. When it came time for bed I went straight to my crib and crawled in.
Having a nurse come along to raise the side was just another dollop of icing on the cake. Just before I went to sleep I lay back and let my bladder go. It was wonderful to lie there in the darkness and feel the hot pee creep through my diapers. Things went along just like that for most of the first week. Mom wouldn't be working weekends and I was sad at the thought of going without diapers at night while at home.
Then a miracle happened. I got into a wrestling match with Tony, one of the patients in the day room, and fell on my left arm hard enough to sprain it. It wasn't a very painful injury but I played it up as best I could. The head nurse, my Mom's boss took a look at it and said it would be best if she made sure I slept on my back that night, in case I complicated the injury by sleeping on it. Mom got a strange look in her face but said she would take care of it.
That night, when I was helped into my crib by my anxious Mom I noticed that a leather strap, with two fur lined cuffs attached to it, had been attached over the mattress at the foot of my crib. As I extended my bare legs towards the leather appliance I guessed what those straps would do and suddenly it was all I could do to contain my excitement. Mom, as usual, was all apologies.
"I'm sorry to have to do this to you, Jamie but I have to fasten your ankles with the cuffs. It will stop you from turning over in your sleep and possibly re-injuring your arm. You understand, don't you?" I assured her I did and then watched as she pulled a cuff tight around each ankle. With a not-so-stern warning not to try to release the cuffs she stepped back and then raised the side of the crib into place.
As the lights in the ward dimmed I pulled against the firm leather straps and swooned with joy. Having been in diapers for four nights by then I had learned how to relax enough to wet while lying down and I celebrated my new thrill by soaking my diapers as best I could. I was so excited that it was many hours before I fell asleep.
The next day was the first Saturday I had spent in the hospital. I found out that the routine was different on weekends. Long past our normal wake up time the ward was still dark and almost silent. When the nurses did come, Mom wasn't with them but I was told she would be along later. I hadn't tried to release the cuffs, of course. It was a wonderful feeling though to be free of their grip.
About half the kids were let out of their night diapers and given pajamas to wear. The rest, me included, were changed into lighter grade "day" diapers and fresh pairs of plastic pants. I made a bit of a protest about that but the nurse pointed to my arm in a sling and asked how I expected to manage in the bathroom with my arm like that.
It was all I could do not to smile with glee as I headed off to the day room for breakfast with my plastic pants crackling loudly while the warm thick bulk of fresh diapers made me walk with more than a little bit of a waddle. My dream had come true!