Date: Sun, 17 Jun 2012 15:24:38 -0700
From: Jay roberts <diplomat1501@msn.com>
Subject: "Diaper Boy Gets Job, Part One"  by Jay Roberts   Gay Adult

"Diaper Boy Gets Job, Part One" by Jay Roberts    Gay Adult


****I am writing a diaper boy story after a long time because a nice reader
requested I I hope he likes it.  As for the rest of you, if you are over 18
please join us if you are younger, please leave.


+++One more statement before beginning the story, please make a
contribution to Nifty.  There is nothing like this great collection and
available free.  If you are very rich then you might mail a check for a few
thousand dollars.  If you are like the the rest of us, $25, $50 or more is
greatly appreciated.


I saw the young man through the glass partition from my office.  He was
speaking to the receptionist.  I glanced down at his resume that was
sitting there.  A recent high school graduate.  He looked much younger than
eighteen.  Perhaps it was his slightly overweight body, or was it those
lips, reddish and puckered.  She pointed to my door and in a moment he was
knocking hesitantly.

I am, George Yonkman the founder and president of the Sweet Bottom Diaper
Service.  At the age of thirty, I had come a long way and had been written
up a few years ago as businessman of the years.

 There are not many real cloth diaper services left in the US.  Most new
mothers go for the Pampers type.  There are a few who use cloth diapers and
wash them at home, but our customer is often a working mother who still
prefers real diapers but is pressed for time.

We take away the dirty ones in a covered plastic pail.  We give you a fresh
pail plus your new supply of sweet smelling (scented with the same odor as
baby powder) clean pure while and neatly folded.

Not every job seeker wants to handle dirty diapers before they get triple
washed in our stainless steel machines.  Few young men want to do girls'
type work in folding either.

BUT there is a kind of young guy who welcomes this work.  It's my task to
check them out.  And today I have this boy coming for an interview.

"My name is William Goody."  He grinning cutely, "But my friends call me
Billy."

{Billy Goode, I thought, cute!}

I read the hand written resume he handed me.  The writing was a childish
scrawl but it but the words were of interest to me.  I noticed that his
mother had died when he was very young and he was raised by his father.
Reading between the lines, I could see that his father, a traveling
salesman was rarely home.  Here you had a boy yearning for tenderness; a
boy who missed out of the ministrations of a caring mother.

He stood in front of my desk.  "Sit down lad."

He looked at me questioningly as their where two chairs.  One close to me
and the other quite far across the room.  "Sit here!" I said rather harshly
without meaning to.

One's clothes speak in a loud voice and I checked him out.  He was wearing
tan cotton pants and an unironed, but carefully smoothed shirt, no tie, but
a cheap blue blazer.  He looked correct, but this was a poor kid from the
quality.

"Do you know what this job is?"

"Not really," he said in a smooth, flutey tenor.

That was not the best answer.  He was naive.  He should have researched a
bit.

I leaned back in my chair. This position made my crotch tight and showed
off the shape of my junk.  Ha ha, he was interested in pricks and probably
didn't even notice it.  "Well we are all about diapers."

Another mental ha ha.  His eyes squinted at the word 'diaper'.  What have
we got here?

"Yes diapers."  I punctuated the word by grabbing a fresh diaper from the
stack behind me and tossing it to him.  His young face reddened and the
blush, I could see from his open top two shirt buttons, continued onto his
smooth, hairlesschest.

At this point I noticed that he must not have that swimmer flat, but
muscular chest, no, his breasts were full and forming an outline on his
shirt.

"Feel that diaper," I ordered.  "Feel how soft it is."

To my delight, he didn't feel it with his hand as one might expect, no he
rubbed it on his smooth cheek and he inhaled with closed eyed pleasure.

"Smell it!" I bellowed.

He inhaled and his cheap thin pant front exploded into a massive erection.
That part of him, at least, was quite mature.

"Let me lay it out for you.  The diapers come in smelling like mustard gas.
It'll choke you up.  Half contain shit that must be shaken out.  You wear
gloves and a mask, but it still stinking and disgusting as you toss them
into our mighty washing machines."

"From the washers, after three cycles, you take the soaking mass and push
it into the dryers.  Then comes the folding operation.  On a good day,
you'll fold a thousand.  Do you think you can handle this job?

He stood up, his erection even more obvious.  "Sir, I knew I wanted this
job just from the name.  I remember back when our baby sitter diapered me
and....er....well you know."

My voice became soft and caressing.  "Yes I know boy, come over and sit on
my lap."

If you said that to any ordinary boy, he would run out the door.  But this
was a diaper boy in front of me.  He yearned for the comfort I offered.  He
was sniffling a little, poor kid, overcome by the warm, pleasant safety I
was offering.

I felt his slightly over sized, warm bottom settle on my lap and
immediately his head fell on the space between my shoulder and my head.  I
patted his head.  "There, there you are such a baby, but it's sweet."  He
nodding happily at my words.


End Part One