Published: March 8th 2023, 3:41:20 pm
"Awww, hehe. Little bro is trying to get hard! That's so cute! Lucky it's diaper sized!" And sure enough, he is able to pull the diaper up between my legs and tape it up without a problem, despite my erection. "I doubt that little guy is ever gonna give us problems when it's time for your diapers, buddy."
"Can we just finish, please," I ask, my face burning hot with embarrassment.
"You can finish in your diapers, buddy," says Donovan. "But I'm not gonna help you. Cute of you to ask, though."
"That's not what I meant!" I protest, but Donovan is already wiping his hands off on the towel and picking up my discarded pants. He kneels in front of me, holding them open.
"Come on, step into your pants, buddy boy. You can put your hands on big bro's shoulders if you need to." I do as I'm told, knowing it's better than being dressed on my back. Next, I let him put my shirt on. "That's it, kiddo. Reach high for the sky! Annnd, there we go. You know, we need to get you some cuter clothes while we're at it..."
"But I have class-"
"No, you don't. I messaged all your professors and told them you were sick today. You're coming with your big bro for some quality time and to get all the supplies you need to be a good boy for me."
"You can't do that!" I say. "They're my classes!"
"Give me your feeties," he says, putting my socks on and at the same time completely undercutting my protests. "Good, and here come your shoes. I need you to stand up so I can tie them better."
"I-I can tie those myself," I say, weakly, but he's already finishing the first and starting on the second. Somehow, this makes me feel even more childish than being dressed. Before I know it, I'm back in my revealing sweats, diaper bulge sticking out all around, along with the rest of the clothes my bro has me wearing, and I'm not happy about it.
"Okay," he says, finally, as he steps back to admire his handiwork. "That was more work than it had to be. I hope you don't give me this much trouble every day."
"I don't wanna go shopping," is all I can say. I cross my arms and look away, not caring that it looks like a childish act of defiance. He sighs.
"Alright, tell you what. You can go to class looking like that if you want to..." He eyes my diaper bulge meaningfully. "I'm sure no one will notice the big diaper bulge and the crinkle in your pants. Meanwhile, I'll buy whatever I think is best for my little bro..."
"No way I'm letting that happen," I say, eyeing him with suspicion. "I'm coming with."
"I knew you'd see it my way," he says with a grin. "Maybe we can find you some pants that actually fit around your diapers, too."
*****
The ride to Bullseye is an awkward one. We don't have a car so we have to take the light rail from campus. Luckily it's just a couple of stops away, so we're there in no time. Still, it feels like forever. At the stop I feel like everyone is staring at my big diaper bulge, which is pushing my sweats to the limit. And then, on the ride, I'm forced to stand because there are no seats left, and I feel like no matter which way I face, someone is getting a full view of my poofy diaper outlined in my sweats. It's eye-level with anyone seated and my shirt isn't long enough to cover anything up. I can't wait to get some more appropriate pants.
The stop can't come soon enough and I practically barrel out of the car, except big bro grabs my hand to slow me down.
"Ah, ah, ah! No running, buddy! You hold your big bro's hand." He says this loudly, making no attempt to be discreet, and I look at all the stares we're getting. I quickly comply, hoping that I never see these people again. Being led to Bullseye by my younger brother makes me feel weird. He really has been working out and he's bigger and more muscular than when I left high school. And even then he was on the wrestling team and getting pretty buff - buff enough to turn me into a pretzel if he wanted to.
He grabs a cart, and not the typical one but a flat-bed one like you would get at an IDEA furniture store or a COSTCUT wholesale store.
"Are we really going to buy that much stuff?" I ask, dreading the answer.
"Diapers take up a lot of space, buddy boy. Trust me. Now you're in charge of pushing the cart, okay? Can you take that big boy responsibility" I roll my eyes.
"I can push a cart, Bro."
He smiles and pats my head. "Good boy. I knew you could do it!" It's not even worth fighting so I let his condescending praise slide. At least he's being 'nice' and not a snotty brat like he sometimes was when we were younger.
We walk into the big store which sells everything from clothing to toiletries and even groceries. I look around, again feeling like people are staring even though they probably aren't.
"Okay, kiddo, first stop, let's get you some new clothes."
I can't agree more, but I am perplexed when he leads me toward the junior's section instead of the men's section.
"Why are we going here?" I ask.
"Your clothes are too serious for a little bro. We're getting you some clothes that are cuter as well as roomy enough for your diapees."
"Shh, not so loud," I say, but he just gives me a stern look and admonishes me to be more respectful of Big Bro.
"Let's see... oh! Look at all these cute shirts! I think these will be perfect for you!"
He begins grabbing all sorts of childish shirts - a Muppet Avenue T-shirt with Melmo and Large Bird smiling from the front. A Pawsome Squad hoodie with 'Ready for Action' on the front and a little removable cape. A Greenie polo with the Australian pup family playing in the nursery. A Mitchell mouse button up T-Shirt with the happy smiling faces of Mitchell and friends. Even a onesie with some baby characters I've never seen before and the word Mocha-Melon splashed across the front in bright colors.
"What the hell is Mocha-Melon?"
"Language! It's your new favorite show, buddy! You're gonna watch it every day and learn so much."
"Aww, geez, would you knock it off, Donny? I'm not a baby."
"Call me that one more time and I won't hesitate to put you over my knee right here in the middle of the store."
"You wouldn't!" I say, jumping away and covering my rear instinctively.
"Just keep pushing," he says, crossing his arms and looking down at me with authority, and of course I obey. I realize not only is he bigger than whan he was in high school, he's more intimidating. Next, we stop at the pants. Since I'm not the largest guy in the world, the larger sizes meant to people around 16 fit me perfectly.
"Let's see," he says, holding up a pair of khaki green and purple shorts with Blarney's face on the leg. "These look roomy enough..."