"I am eighteen. Why does this stupid law even apply to me?" John shouted; the boys voice crashed against his mother like waves upon a rocky shore. "Because you are a boy. Besides, I don't have a choice either." Fatigued from a night of endless screaming sessions Johnathon relented. "Fine." His retaliation came in one primal scream. He might have been a lad, but John knew there was ultimately nothing he could do. His dad and mom had no choice anyway. The law had already been passed and events were in motion.
John stomped up the stairs; the remnants of anger present in his footsteps. Here he was an eighteen-year-old man, getting ready to be put into a diaper. He wasn't a baby and the lad resented being treated like one. Hell, he would have settled for drinking that weird milk. Just so long as he didn't have to wear a diaper.
When he reached their bedroom the boy's rage had fully subsided, usurped by dread. The bland mix of beige and black that made up their chambers somehow adding to his unease. He'd always hated his folks' drab taste in fashion. They were too obsessed with everything looking neat and orderly unlike his boyfriend. Just then he'd wondered if his lover was fairing any better. He'd probably adjusted to the situation better than John. James was always the more easygoing of the two of them.
"Mom, dad! I am ready!" John yelled from his position on the bed. Taking his place, he sat in preparation for the humiliation that was too soon befall him.
"I am on my way, honey!" She replied from downstairs. Fear overtook him when his mom answered because he knew what it meant. It signaled the end of his independence and the beginning of a horrible new life. All he could do is sit and wait until she arrived. In the meantime, John's gaze lazily crawled over his surroundings until he reached a window. For a split second he thought about running away from this insanity. It was a nationwide law, but maybe he could live off the land. The youth chuckled to himself at the absurdity of his comment, before he collapsed onto the bed.
Heavy footsteps from the hallways alerted him to his mom's presence. When she appeared in the door with a white bag that he could only wonder about. "From now on your father and I will be the ones changing your clothes. You will always wear diapers, but if you behave, I will let you wear clothes over them. Do you understand me?"
John simply nodded at his mother's words still defeated from their screaming match. Thankfully, the diapering itself was mercifully quick. She placed a mat under him and raised his legs. John squirmed as she slid off his pants and underwear before powdering his rear. It wasn't so bad until he felt the diaper envelope his loins. The feel of the cloth around his legs made him shift uncomfortably, which caused his mother to giggle.
After the diapering he looked down at his waist with shame, but at least he could wear clothes. The idea that the outfits he'd have to wear were going to be infantile was a downer. John would adapt though, or he at least hoped he could. "Where is dad anyway?" The boy asked, hoping to deflect attention from his diaper-clad buttocks.
"He went to pick up your new clothes and formula."
"Formula?" John answered with an "Yes" from his mom.
"Now put your pants back on so you can help him when he arrives"