Published: June 23rd 2023, 6:55:44 am
I stare at the Professor, my mouth dry as the desert and my face most likely drained of color. He's stopped in the middle of his greeting to the class just to stare right at my diaper under the desk, which would be hard to miss given the height of my seat. Then, to my surprise, Professor Poindexter gives me a little wink and a nod and continues with his greeting.
"Good morning, students. I hope you are ready to crinkle - I mean crunch some numbers. Let's get started!"
This draws a giggle from the class, but that's not what I'm focused on because as I am looking at the professor in shock, trying to parse out his reaction, I suddenly notice the big bulge in his pants. I murmur to myself in astonishment.
"I-is that a..,?" My brother looks at me and smirks, before leaning over and whispering.
"You didn't notice? I noticed first thing. That's why I thought this would be a good first class to take you diapered."
I look back at Donovan impressed. He's more considerate than I thought. So the professor wears padding. I wonder if he likes it like I do, or if he just needs it to stay dry... like I do.
"Pay attention, diaper dork," whispers my brother. "We're here to learn, remember?"
I shake my head. He's right. The only way out of college is through, and I want to get through as quick as possible so I can hopefully earn some real freedom. The only problem is... when I look at the board I realize I can't read the numbers...
"B-big bro," I whisper... "Why is the professor writing those funny squiggles?"
"Those are numbers, buddy. Don't you know how to read them?" I look at him, astonished.
"No way, you're messing with me." But I look down at his paper and his notes are all in squiggles too. I look over to my nearest neighbor and them too. Desperately, I open up my textbook and begin flipping through the pages. I can't make heads or tails of the numbers or the letters. I look back up at Donovan in fear, only to see him giving me a smug look. Like he expected this. What did he do?
The professor drones on, and all I can notice is his big diaper butt sticking out as he writes on the board. The crinkle under his pants is deafening. How did I not notice it before? The way the khakis hug the diaper, accentuating the outline. And his tucked in shirt with the bowtie does nothing at all to hide it. I wonder if he's wetting those diapers as he lectures... Does he poop them too?
"Little Dicky... Little Dicky!"
"Huh?" I ask, turning to my brother.
"Time to go! Class is over, were you daydreaming again? Oh, look at you," he says, mopping my face with a tissue. It is then that I realize I've been drooling on myself.
"What the- get offa me," I say, swatting him away, or at least trying to.
"None of that now, kiddo," he says, grabbing my arm with a firm hand and finishing the job of wiping off my face. "Now why were you goofing off? Don't tell me you don't remember your numbers?"
"I-" I pause, then decide to lie. "I do so know my numbers. I was just bored because I already studied this lesson."
"Oh really?" he says, hands on hips. "Then why don't you tell me what he talked about today?"
I begin sweating. If I admit to him that I can't read my numbers right now, he'll just use it as an excuse to further baby me.
"H-he, talked about... calculus... stuff. You know. Calculating."
"Calculus stuff, huh?" he says, slowly, scratching his chin. "Alright, buddy, then real quick, before we go, tell me what the answer is on the board." I squint, trying to make sense of a single thing. I don't even know where the answer would be in that whole mess, so I hazard a guess.
"Uh.... eleventy three?"
"That's not even a number, little bro," he says, adopting a guise of concern. "You know what, I think we'd better take you to the medical center. Something might be going on."
"Stop playing Donovan," I say, looking around at the now mostly empty classroom. "I know you had something to do with this."
"I have no idea what you mean," he says, with a devilish grin. "But we'd better go already. Say goodbye to the professor."
I blush as we walk by and he waves.
"Nice outfit, buddy!" he calls. "Those look like elephant crinklers. Am I right?"
"You're right on the money, professor!" says my brother, with a big smile. "You sure do know your pamps!"
"You could say, I'm something of an expert myself." He gives me another wink, and I bury my face in my hands.
"Sorry, he's a little shy about, it, seeing as he likes them so much. Anyway, we gotta take him to the medical center, seems he's having a bit of trouble with his numbers today.
"Uh oh. Well, I hope you feel better, son. And you, Donovan, you take good care of your brother. And keep up the good work in class."
Donovan leads me away, and I am still in shock at what just happened. It isn't until we're approaching the medical center that I realize that I hadn't gotten to speak during the whole exchange, which only makes me feel like more of a toddler.
"W-wait," I say, as we go into the building. I look around and notice that everything is colorful and there are fun sounds and videos playing on the screen. "This doesn't look like the medical center. Where are we?"
"Oh, this is the C.A.B.S. building." I stare at him blankly. "Oh that's right, I forgot you forgot your numbers and letters. Let's just say it's for special little guys like you. Now let's get you signed in. I'm sure they'll know just what to do with you."
I gulp and look at the front desk hesitantly as we approach. Donovan's words sound ominous, but the cheerful girl at the counter seems friendly enough.
"Hi! I'm Beth!" she says, smiling. "And what brings you two in today? Ohhhh! Look at the CUTIE!"
I'm stunned as she comes down from behind the desk to give me a big hug, and I don't really know how to react.
"Uh, I, uh..."
"Hi Beth! This is my little bro. I heard this center can help little guys like him out when they have problems. Do you think we can see a specialist?"
"Do I? Heck yes!" she says, with a laugh. "Don't worry, about a thing, kiddo," she says, taking my hands and looking into my eyes. "We'll help whatever problem you may be having. Now why don't we get you signed in?"
I smile back, reluctantly. She seems nice enough, at least, and she did say they could help. I feel a little better, and a little relieved. Maybe this will all be behind me soon. Yeah, I'm sure everything will be fine after my visit to C.A.B.S.