Teenage Years - (Chapter 3)

When we moved out to Mission my mom claimed it was so that I could get a fresh start in a more structured school and be away from all the kids that teased and bullied me. I think it was also an opportunity for her to be in a different environment that suited her more.

I was now not wearing girl’s clothing out in public which I preferred but I was still prone to wetting and having accidents, so I still wore diapers almost all the time. Little did she know by this time the true accidents were very infrequent, but I was actually wetting on purpose because I loved the feeling of soft, thick diapers and plastic pants and I was becoming obsessed with masturbating. More about this and being caught next chapter. I still loved wearing little girls clothing and did it at home all the time. However, I was now getting very interested in women’s underwear and lingerie thanks to the many issues of the Sear’s and Eaton’s catalogues that my mom had, and I enjoyed looking at in my room.

Our new house was old and small, but it had a large yard and my mom loved that it had flower and vegetable garden. She enjoyed the country living as well as it was more private, and our neighbors were also members of the same church.  Shortly after we moved in, and the weather got warmer mom started using the clothes line to dry our laundry instead of the dryer.

I was horrified and very upset when I woke up one morning looked out my bedroom window to see the clothesline full of cloth diapers, plastic pants, my ruffled panties, tights, and little girl dresses. I got very upset and yelled at my mother to take them down before the neighbors saw them.

I received an actual spanking for that outburst and lost my privileges for a week. She told me that I should not be so concerned, and no one would care anyways.  My mom then nonchalantly told me that if someone asked, she would tell them that I had “special needs” that required diapers and she reminded me that when we started attending church next week people would probably notice that I was wearing diapers anyways.

It felt like a long first summer in Mission, I did not know anyone and except for going on some long bike rides by myself I spent most of my time at home. My mom did buy a large above ground pool which was quite nice especially as it got hotter. Since I would now be wearing boyish clothes more my mom spent most of the summer sewing shorts and pants that had room to accommodate my diapers and they also had a slight little boyish look to them. We attended church 2-3 times a week and everyone was expected to dress nicely. I still continued to wear frilly dresses around the house and my mom encouraged me to go into the backyard as well while in dresses. The yard was fairly private because of the hedge and fence it really was only the back deck and clothesline that were readily visible to our neighbors.

I didn’t understand why I still needed to be diapered under my bathing suit, but she would not relent, I hated it because they just got soaked and very heavy.  I complained constantly about this and at one point she told if I didn’t stop, she would take away my bathing suits and if I wanted to swim I could either wear diapers and plastic pants or just plastic pants. My reaction was that I would not use the pool any longer. This lasted a couple of weeks until I could not stand the boredom as well as being inside I the hot weather. So one day when my mom went out shopping I decided to go swimming before she got some. Unfortunately, she had taken away all my swim trunks. I decided to just wear a pair of my plastic pants and go swimming.  The worst thing possible could have happened I lost track of the time and my mom came home without me noticing and invited our next door neighbor over for coffee.  I was in the pool in just my plastic pants and my mom told me to get out and help I the kitchen. I was mortified to have to get out of the pool wearing light blue plastic pants that were full of water

The look on the lady’s face was shock at first and then she looked away. As I was in the room drying off and changing, I could hear the lady telling my mom that she had noticed the diapers and plastic pants on the clothesline and was asking if I needed diapers. My mom casually told her that I did and then went on to tell her that when I was stressed or upset, I would ask to wear dresses. I went beet read when the lady mentioned that she saw the pretty dresses and things on the clothesline as well. 

I wanted to hide in my room, but my mom would have no part of it. She came to my room and told me to come greet our neighbor then get to my chores. I was really embarrassed when I came out onto the deck to formally meet our neighbor. She acted as if nothing was amiss and asked me questions about looking forward to the start of the school year and how I was enjoying my summer.

My mom was very forthcoming and everyone in the congregation was made aware that I was I was not a normal boy and I felt more comfortable doing things that girls normally did and were taught. The church elders had no issues, and I was able to attend lessons and classes in Home Economics designed for the girls rather than take classes in woodworking or mechanics like the other boys did. A few parents were initially apprehensive, and I recall a few evenings parents would come to our home along with church elders for an open discussion about my circumstances. I didn’t understand it at the time but many years later figured out that this friendly and open Christian group was very set in traditional male/female roles and for the lack of a better term were very homophobic. As with so many religious groups they tried to hide their views and veil them with phrases rather than saying it outright that they feared I was gay. I didn’t understand what I was overhearing but it all made sense years later. 

Initially these mortified me but mom as so reassuring, and she’d ask me to bake cookies and serve coffee or tea for our guests. I enjoyed this part but since I was diapered, I was worried that our guests would hear the rustling of my plastic pants or notice my padded bottom. These gatherings were held during the summer before I had even started at the school, so my mom had me wear nice shorts and a shirt. Since she loved to sew, she made my shorts like a toddler’s with more room in the bottom and front for the bulky diapers. I will never forget how proud I felt when a few of the ladies said they wished their sons were so well behaved and helpful. 

The new church became a very important part of our lives, I recall that my mom had a very active social life. She was often being invited to the homes of other ladies for coffee and she was constantly reciprocating as well. It being summer and I did not know anyone my age I always had to help out when she had ladies over and my mom always made me wear properly tailored shorts and shirts and since she made most of them, they often had a slight little boy look to them or as she would tell me they need to accommodate my diapers and be modest in design. Worst of all when she had guests, she would always ask me while we were I the kitchen if I needed to be changed. She said it quietly but not exactly in a soft whisper and if I was wet, she would excuse herself from her guests and call me into my room where she would change me. The worst thing of all is that she never made an effort to take down the washing from the clothesline and there were inevitably diapers and plastic pants out on the line.

I complained quietly at first about this and she would just tell me that I was being silly, and no one cared. One particular day I complained a bit too much while we were in my room, and she gave me a couple of hard smacks on my bare bottom causing me to cry out which there was no way her friends did not hear then she scolded me told me that there was nothing to be ashamed of and that they all knew of my diapers so I should stop worrying about it so much.

By August my mom was starting to go out on Friday and Saturday evenings and in spite of my protests she always asked an older lady or one of her friends come over to babysit. I complained about this because I was already 15 years old and didn’t need a babysitter. My mom was ever patient and usually just ignored me and went about making my dinner or getting dressed to go out. However, on this one occasion I guess I went over the line and stormed into her bedroom to complain while she was getting dressed.  I will always remember that she was wearing a beige full slip and I was standing there with my mouth open. Without warning I received a sharp slap across the face which shocked me as she had never done that before and then she sat on the bed and pulled me across her lap. She gave me a couple of smacks on my bottom, but I was diapered so all it did was make a muffled thud.

However, she reached into the waistband of my shorts and with one yank pulled my shorts, plastic pants and diapers down to my thighs. She gave me a spanking with her hand that hurt so much after 3 or 4 smacks, and I was kicking and struggling but she ignored me and continued smacking my bare bottom. 

I was mortified to feel myself lose control of my bladder and I started to pee while laying on her lap. When she felt the wetness, she got very mad and mad me stand up. I was crying more from the embarrassment than the discomfort. She told me to pull up my pants and stand in the corner facing the wall. I had to stand there for what felt like an hour while she got changed and finished doing her hair. 

When mom’s friend arrived to babysit, I could hear my mom explain to her that I had acted up and misbehaved so after dinner I would have no TV privileges and that I was to spend my evening thinking about my behavior.  My mom came into her room and took me into the kitchen and sat me down at the table. She told me that I would have to write the following scripture 250 times even if it took me 2 days to complete. The scripture was:

Colossians 3:20

“Children, be obedient to your parents in all things, for this is well-pleasing to the Lord.”

She told her friend that I was to write lines until 9 o’clock then be sent to bed. Her friend was kind and had pity on me letting me stop writing after an hour so I could watch some TV and then she let me stay up later than 9 o’clock.

The next morning my mom sat me down and warned me that she was disappointed in my behavior this summer and that she would not put up with any more whining and complaining. Her compromise though was as long as I behaved perfectly until school started, she would have a trial period in September where I would not need a sitter when she went out on weekends.

I attended a small traditional Christian school near Abbotsford, and it would be supplemented with home schooling from some church elders and teachers associated with this religious group. There definitely was a slant towards traditional family values and very stereotypical roles within a family. It was almost as if it were modelled after a 1950’s family dynamic or after that popular TV shows like “Father Knows Best” or “Leave it to Beaver”. 

There was a strong emphasis on being properly dressed for any function associated with the church and girls and women were expected to wear dresses or skirts at all times.

I flourished in the home-schooling environment and the teachers at the Christian school demanded more from us than the public school I attended in North Vancouver. I was transformed from being a bored student to was loving the lessons and particularly enjoyed the classes in bookkeeping, accounting and math. As an added bonus the students I the school were far more accepting of this odd boy with long hair and who definitely acted effeminate or as I would later learn more “sissyish” than normal boys. Although I didn’t develop any close friendships at least I was not tormented and bullied.