Please be advised the following story will discuss Man/boy love, as well as aspects of diapers, scat, incest and medical fetish. It is for fantasy only and never happened. The author does not condone this type of behavior, but recognizes that boy love is a very real issue among many and that words are an effective and victimless means to express one's desires. Please feel free to e-mail comments and suggestions to the following address: (firstname.lastname@example.org). Do not send pictures or attachments as they will not be opened. I am not a professional writer and this is my first attempt at a series. If there is a positive response, each chapter will get progressively longer and the relationship will become increasingly intimate.
I let go of his hand and went to answer the door. It was difficult to walk with the huge erection I was sporting but never the less, I made my way over. I was greeted by Zachary's friend Timmy whom was peering in through the screen door. He had his baseball cap and his little league uniform on and was asking to see Zachy. Not missing the opportunity to talk to him, I let him in and watched his expression of shock as he looked over at Zach lying over Lauren's lap on top of an opened Pamper with a jar of Vaseline next to them. I wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps he had memories of having his temperature taken in his bottom also? My mind wondered to thinking about his sweaty baseball uniform and taking in his scent. His breath was fruity and he smelled of boy sweat and Johnson's Baby Shampoo. I needed to focus on handling the crisis, so I quickly returned to reality. After all, he was only nine years old and that is somewhat young to be thinking about such intimate things.
Lauren was speaking in a calm way and stroking Zach on the back, while at the same time looking at me as if to say, "hurry up and make him go away." I gave Timmy some reassurance that Zach was not feeling good but would be ok and was about to send him away when he turned and yelled to Zach, "my mom takes my temperature in my bum too so don't worry, it's no big deal." He then bolted home to change after his game. I walked back to the "scene" stupefied with sexual tension. Why was all this happening to me? I could not understand that for some reason, boys' bottoms were now the focus of the entire day. It had always been my secret lust and now I was being tantalized by all angles.
Lauren had placed the thermometer back in the jar of Vaseline so it would be ready when I returned. Zach was still lying in the "nursery position," but now he was telling us he was going to be a good boy and go poopie. Lauren stated he was just trying to avoid the thermometer and she was going to take his temperature any way. She explained to me that the insertion itself may be enough to stimulate him and make him go. I sat down and admired his boy bum and wondered what thermometer would really find in his hole. Again he tried to cover his hole but I held his hand and Lauren again spread his little boy hole. The perfect little pink bud winked at us. It appeared a little dirty but never the less, the process continued. She held the Sponge Bob thermometer up with a large glob of Vaseline on its tip. Ever so gently she pushed the tip into his bottom. Zachary pushed back and grunted in an attempt to keep it from sliding in, but this just made its penetration all that much easier as she inserted the instrument a full two inches.
Zach grunted and pushed like a toddler trying to relieve himself. Now picture this eleven year old beauty lying on a Pamper, his legs draped over his mom's and the thermometer protruding out of his anus. Lauren started to talk baby talk and "draw' letters and numbers on his back, having him guess what they were. I held his hand and tried to sniff the air for his scent. There was the odor of Pampers, Desitin and pee, but nothing else as of yet. I was trying to manage my breathing and my erection while at the same time I took mental pictures of what was occurring in front of me. With his bottom spread wide I could see where the excess lubricant had pushed up around the thermometer and against his clenched anus. Lauren switched so her had was cupping his bottom, with the thermometer sticking between her fingers like a cigarette. I was so aroused I was not able to even speak. The entire event was right out of my imagination. The boy of my dreams laying there showing all his most intimate and beautiful places, his mommy comforting him and making for a future Freudian nightmare.
It wasn't long and Zachary stopped grunting and said he had to go poop. "No honey, we have to let the thermometer do its job in your bottom. Squeeze your Uncle Jimmy's hand and try not to push on it any more." I wondered what he was thinking as I looked at the character thermometer sticking out of his butt. It was a strange juxtaposition to say the least, the entire juvenile theme just served to add fuel to my fire. "Ok baby, mommy is going to take it out of your bottom now and see if you really did have to go. You know I can see if there is poop there or not." She winked at me and slapped his thigh in a playful manner. I stood by, waiting in anticipation for the withdrawal.
Inwardly I thought to myself I would make it my goal to try to snatch the thermometer before she washed it and keep it for my own "use." What a trophy that would make indeed. I listened as Sponge Bob sang his song and Zachy pushed one more time, this effort rewarded by Lauren's hand shifting and beginning to pull out the thermometer. I focused on his little starfish mouth, which if one used his imagination, was trying to either suck in or push out the item imbedded in the it. I felt him breath out, as if relieved in some manner as it slid out. As it came out there was the distinct sound of a little bottom passing air. The entire seen was almost too much for me to handle but the clincher was when the thermometer came out and there was the distinct brown smear of little boy poop on at least one inch (that together with Vaseline). I was now dizzy but held on for the possibilities that lay ahead. Lauren said with a distinctive tone, "I told you I thought you were constipated and holding again, there is poop on the thermometer. That is why you have poopy pants all the time. I am going to give you something to make you poop." As she was stating this she was cupping his bottom as he lay over her lap. "No mommy, I don't wanna get a suppository!!!" I let go of his hand and ran to the bathroom, pretending to have a coughing fit.
3AM -Back To The Present
I gathered my clothes as my mind raced thinking of my little nephew needing my help. I told the social worker to consider me a legal guardian and set off to pick him up at their home. I wondered what condition I would find the little boy in as I arrived. Would he be in a diaper? Would I get to change him and attend to all his anal needs (as deemed medically appropriate)? I had to get myself together as that little boy needed me and I needed to help him. As I approached the house there were a number of people milling around, none of whom were attending to said child. I was told he was sleeping in his room and that I could gather him and his things. I cracked the door to his bedroom and was greeted by the smells reminiscent of a nursery. Powder, Desitin, pee and a little poop all were in the air. I allowed my eyes to adjust to the dark and peered over the sleeping boy. There, laying on his stomach with his top leg pulled up, was an eleven year old boy wearing a disposable diaper that obviously needed to be changed. I admired his diapered boy bottom as he slept. It was heavy with urine and I gently sat down on his mattress to wake him. I saw in my distant vision a fleet pediatric enema sitting on his bureau. Now I was really having a "hard" time with the entire situation.
I put my hand on his diaper and felt the swollen material. There is no denying he was soaked. I could feel the heat of his body through the wet disposable. As my eyes got even more adjusted I could see the diaper was falling down and was rewarded by a view of the top of his crack. The smooth white skin of his back contrasted the diaper that, dipping down from his spine, allowed me to see his boy crack where it began. As I listened to his rhythmic breathing it was clear to me he was deeply sleeping. The social workers and authorities has left me alone with him so I ventured to savor the moment in a harmless manner that would fulfill one of the fantasies I had always entertained. I put my nose up to the top of his crack and inhaled deeply, savoring the perfume of the boy.
I was rewarded by a slightly fecal and sweaty smell that struck at the very essence of my sexual being. It was almost like rising doe smells in the cooking process to make bread. The aroma, combined with the sights of the boy and the room served to bring to me to an orgasm in my pants that was immediate and required not manipulation. It was a harmless release of sexual tension with the only consequence being some dirty underwear on my behalf and a little bit of guilt. I basked in the afterglow as I got up and browsed around his room. There were the usual boy items of sports posters, action figures and pokemon cards. Little League pictures and assorted sneakers (all small enough for his little boy feet) were seemingly everywhere. The room was essentially a normal little boy's room the exception being a large assortment of disposable diapers in youth sizes, pampers in size 7, a well used rectal thermometer, tub of Vaseline, Desitin cream, a diaper Jeanie, pampers wipes, bag enema set, fleet enemas for kids, dulcolax suppositories, glycerin suppositories and lastly, a bottle of mineral oil and Fletcher's Castoria.
I looked at his desk and found a schedule and medical records detailing his treatment for what was called chronic constipation and soiling. It was some kind of program that required him to poop regularly with the aid of medication and diapers. I turned to him and took a deep breath, thinking to myself that I was going to get to tend to this child in ways that were going to be very intimate and legal...To BE Continued...