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  1. This scenario has been done before, but that's no reason not to give it another go! The Boarder Chapter 1 Tim had never thought that, at 27 years of age and with a half decade of business success behind him, he'd ever find himself without a roof over his head. Yet here he was, alone in London, with barely the clothes he stood up in, standing in the rain outside a corner shop scanning the various bits of paper stuck to the inside of the window advertising bicycles, lounge suites and local accomodation. Tim shook his head as he scanned the ads for flats to let and room and board. 200 pounds a week. 195 pounds. 160! The city deserved its reputation for expense, he thought, and shivered, shifting his feet in the shallow, icy slush covering the footpath. Damn London, he thought. It had started well enough. Lex Grabbit and Run Awa was one of the agile new investment companies that had started up after the Global Financial Crisis. Tim was one of the smart young operators who had taken the company's bait, he remembered with a feeling of quiet anger. Lex and Run promoted themselves as 'Just two young guys with an unerring eye for a way to make an easy quid.' Tim had thought that sounded honest and straightforward enough, and had got an interview with Lex and Run in the subdued luxury of their discreet office in St James. 'Tim,' they'd promised him.'In a couple of months, you'll be living a completely changed lifestyle.' Lex had winked at Tim and Tim smiled and nodded slightly back. He had realised that he had now made some serious progress. Some of these small new companies operated almost under the radar, and some of them were making quite obscene amounts of money. He had lit up the Romeo y Julieta Lex had offered him and agreed to start the following Monday. The first month had been fabulous. His first fortnightly pay was 1000 pounds, which was in addition to the 200 quid Lex had insisted he take 'as a token of welcome' as Tim had left the narrow old oak door into Jermyn Street. 'Get yourself a decent tie, old man, and no offence, lose the fedora,' Lex had said. Tim didn't mind. He took the money and headed off into the wan greyness of the late winter afternoon. He strode off, feeling well pleased with himself. He walked through the park to the Thames, and walked east along the embankment. He stopped after a while, and threw his expensive hat into the swirling river. The next day, Saturday, Tim bought a new silk tie, and on the Monday following, he began work at Lex Grabbit and Run Awa. There were a few other young heroes at Grabbit Awa, as the firm was known to those lucky enough to be business insiders. The business traded on a special, highly exclusive 'dark web' trading board operated by a group called Orlin Owse. Orlins approached 'suitable' clients, and offered them the chance to trade on its LANSCAM trading board, on which certain companies, listed only by number for discretion, traded off-balance-sheet shares for cash. Sometimes, once a company started such a practice, not only were they outlaws to the tax office, but they found the value of the secret shares mushrooming, and started trading in the millions of pounds. The spin off for the investment whizzkids at Grabbit Awa was a generous percentage per trade, in and out, since the buyers were also the company's clients. The young traders would often discuss how ingenious it all was. The first three months had been unbelievable. Tim was making almost 5000 pounds a fortnight by the end of the third month, and was regularly hitting a 1000 pound performance bonus. Tim had proposed his next move over a fine tokay after lunch with Lex Grabbit at the Oxford and Cambridge Club in Pall Mall. Lex had mentioned that there was limited opportunity for employees to invest their own funds, and Tim was glad of the chance. Tim had access to around 100,000 pounds of family money, he told Lex, and felt honoured when the financial guru, after a moment's reflection, accepted the funds and picked up the tab for lunch. Tim's investment would go into loans to buyers on the LANSCAM trading board. The security was the borrowing company's own shares. Bulletproof, thought Tim. 'Your money's secured by the true value of the shares,' Lex had assured Tim as they walked back through the Burlington Arcade. Tim grinned as he realised that he could now actually buy most of the luxury items in the windows they passed. A few months later Tim and other staff members had turned up one Monday morning to find the oak door locked, with a notice taped to it advising that Lex Grabbitt and Run Awa was in fecivership with debts of over 12,000,000 pounds. Worse, when Tim returned in shock to his comfortable Pimlico flat, he found it locked as well, his goods distrained - according the the letter pinned to his door - and his beautiful leased Aston clamped in the basement car park, awaiting a tow truck. The series of court cases that followed was a disaster for the greedy young traders of Lex Grabbit and Run Awa. The company's fat QC got the two directors off, eventually, on appeal. Lex and Run's successful ground of appeal was truth; the court considered that the pair had not lied when they said they had an eye for a scheme to make easy money, and they had invested Tim's money, and a lot of other people's money, exactly where they had said they would, with the collateral precisely as described. Tim and the others had signed up with no duress. Tim had been stunned. Incredibly, LANSCAM had turned out to be a bogus operation, an in house setup running on the local artea network, and Orlin Owse was no international broker but a phoney outfit actually operated from within the office by Lex and Run, who also fabricated the trades on the supposed trading board. The numbered companies were entirely fictitious, with all funds invested actually going into the pockets of the duo. Even the entity which paid the young traders' salaries, Pond Sea Skeam Plc, was paying the men with money from their own investments. To top it off, the trader's secret login names, Tim realised now, were not the jokey, ironic references he had thought, but were in fact subtle clues to the hidden nature of the operation: Tim's code was 'Born yesterday' and one of his colleagues, 'Last shower'. Tim had been devastated by the court's decision. If only there had been some sort of clue - anything - to indicate what was going on behind the facade. The cunning of it all, he thought. He wondered if Lex Grabbit and Run Awa were even the real names of the two masters of deception. Unfortunately, they were now nowhere to be found, it seemed. Most of the other rich young patsies had slunk home in shame to their crumbling ancetral piles, but Tim couldn't face what there was of his family, who were not even in the country anyway, and with whom he had limited contact and that mostly through his accountant. It had taken Tim only a week to run through the cash he had had in his wallet. Ever one to keep up appearances, he had paid his last week's rent in full, and had left, announcing that he had the chance to move somewhere 'more suited to his lifestyle.' 'Luggage, Mr Osborne?' the concierge of the flats had asked as Tim turned to go. 'Er, no,' said Tim, and continued towards the big glass doors. 'I see,' replied the concierge. 'Good luck.' Now Tim stood on suburban London corner with exactly nineteen pounds and a few coins to his name. He was looking at a carefully written card which looked like an invitation to a fancy wedding, or a christening. The postcard-sized note offered 'comfortable, full board accommodation' for the 'right boarder'. It offered 'Help around the house' in return for some rent and stated that there were 'two kindly landladies'. Tim smiled. He could just imagine two motherly old ducks, catering to his every need in return for changing a few light bulbs. Every cloud, he thought to himself. It was almost dark when he reached the large, neat-looking Ruislip terrace. Tim had got off the Tube at Ruislip not for any particular reason. He'd just been wandering, slowly, around London since leaving his old flat, and his new cashed-up lifestyle, behind. Ruislip had seemed as good as any place to start afresh. Miami and Sue were younger than he expected. Both in their late 30s, he thought. Mimi was the more talkative one. She had explained the terms and introduced Sue. 'Everyone calls me "Aunty Sue,' Sue had said with a laugh, shaking Tim's hand. 'Even our big boy boarders,' Sue had added. She was a buxom woman, with a warm laugh and friendly eyes. Well-built but a little plump, Sue seemed oblivious of her large breasts, swelling under the thin knitted top she wore over a pair of close-fitting jeans. Tim occasionally visited 'cameltoe' soft porn websites, and was an admirer of the exciting feature visible on ladies in tight pants. 'Aunty' Sue's broad cameltoe, bulging gently under her blue jeans, did her proud, thought Tim. Mimi was more formally dressed, in a black skirt, a white blouse with a stunning double string of pearls around her neck, and black high heeled shoes. She was full figured too, but not quite as chubby as Aunty Sue. 'I'll show you your bedroom and just go through a few last things,' Mimi had told Tim as she led him by the hand upstairs after their conversation over a delicious cup of hot chocolate. 'A nice touch,' thought Tim as he held his new landlady soft fingers and followed her up the mustard carpet of the stairs and into a short passageway. He felt quite at home already. Mimi had explained a few details about the hours she and Aunty Sue liked to keep, then looked at Tim as they sat together on the big, soft bed in the room. 'Now, what about bed-wetting?' she asked. Tim could only blink back at her. My God, he thought. Mimi had just put her finger on a very sensitive area of Tim's personal life. He had wet the bed regularly until his early teens. So regularly that his mother had him in diapers every night. He had been put in pullups for long car trips, even as a university student, Worse, he had soiled himself on occasion when he had not been able to reach a toilet in time. The last time he had wet his bed was... a week ago, he thought with shame. It was an accident, of course, because he was so worried about his future. He had stayed in his flat all the following day, moving the fan heater around on the wet mattress trying to make sure there was no tell-tale stain. Not that it mattered, he thought. He'd never darken that doorstep again. 'Well?' asked Mimi. Tim's focus returned to the present. 'Erm,' he said, 'Not really.' 'Not really,' repeated Mimi, placing her hand gently on Tim's. 'When was the last time, honey?' 'The l;ast time?' Tim replied, feeling the blood rush to hsi cheeks. 'It was, I think, last, I mean it was in... er... ' 'No matter,' said Mimi with a smile. 'Our younger boarders are often a long way from home in a strange city, just like you. That can have its implications.' Mimi smiled. 'There's plastic sheet on the bed anyway. I'll leave it there just in case. Now, I'm going to go downstairs and talk to Aunty Sue. I didn't see you bring much in the way of belongings, so you can wear a pair of pyjamas from the third drawer of that chest of drawers over there,' Mimi said, indicating a large Victorian duchess chest against the far wall. 'Do you at least wear knickers under your jarmies?' 'No,' replied Tim, a long-time naked sleeper. This was so embarrassing, he thought. 'That's not very hygienic, Tim, or nice.' said Mimi with a frown. 'I'll let it go for tonight, but we'll have to find some undies for you to wear to bed. Well, it's getting late,' ahe continued. 'Why don't you hop into your jarmies then pop down and say goodnight to us before you get into bed?' Tim wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't that late, he thought. He used his company phone, which was no longer connected, as a watch, but it was in his pocket and he didn't want to appear difficult by taking it out and looking at it. He could look at it later but he supposed he would have to get changed into pyjamas regardless. And he'd have to go downstairs and say goodnight to his landladies before he went to bed. Still, it's a good place, he thought, even if this was a bit of a weird start. He had told Mimi his approximate position, and she had been kind enough to not expect rent for three months in return for Tim helping around the house. It was a bit more than changing lightbulbs, however. Tim had agreed to help clean and cook, as well as do the laundry. Still, he could look for a job in his time off, he thought. There must be some places where people didn't snigger when they saw that he had been part of the crew at Grabbits. The story, with the names of the individuals concerned, had shot around the financial services community, and Tim realised that his reputation, in the City at least, was in tatters. After Mimi had left the room, Tim opened the third drawer and looked through the neat pile of folded pyjamas there. All the garments were soft, furry flannel, with long legs, long arms and in either pastel colours or cartoon prints. Jesus Christ, Tim had thought. He wondered how old the previous boarders had been. It was odd. The clothes seemed large enough, although Tim was slightly built, if carrying a little condition at the moment. Good living, he told himself. The least objectionable pair of pyjamas was pale yellow. Tim put them on reluctantly. There was no fly, he noticed. No drawstring, either, just a soft but effective elasticated waist. Tim rolled his eyes and sat back on the bed for a while before venturing downstairs. He could hear the rustle of plastic sheet on as he stood up in his pastel pyjamas. Well, he thought. I'd better go and say goodnight to Mimi and Aunty Sue. The Boarder Chapter 2 Tim found his landladies sitting near the fireplace in the large living room. Mimi was reading and Aunty Sue was knitting. The ladies looked up and smiled as Tim entered the room. He had to walk carefully as the pyjama pants were a little long. 'Hello, honey,' said Mimi. 'All ready for bed?' 'Yes,' replied Tim. 'Don't you look sweet!' said Aunty Sue, putting her knitting on her lap. Tim smiled uncertainly. He wasn't sure he looked 'sweet'. More embarrassed than anything. He remembered having to say goodnight to his own aunt when he stayed at her house, years ago. 'Well, what about a kiss goodnight?' said Mimi, patting the side of her well-upholstered chair in an invitation for Tim to come closer. Tim approached her, and bent towards her proffered cheek. As he did so, Mimi put her hand on his backside. 'Very nice,' she said, gently turning Tim around before reaching out with both hands and tugging upwards the waistband of his pyjama pants. 'They're a little long for you, sweetie,' she said. 'Aunty Sue will take them up for you.' Tim felt the pants riding high now on his hips. He had taken off his underpants, and felt a little uncomfortable at the way the soft fabric now pulled upwards in front, showing his modest 'package' as a noticeable bump. After he had kissed Mimi on her warm cheek, the woman patted him on the backside and propelled him towards Aunty Sue, who sat smiling at him. 'Welcome to our family,' Aunty Sue said. After the horrors of the last few weeks, and the spectre of homelessness, Tim couldn't help feeling grateful for his present situation, even if these two ladies were a little over the top. 'Thank you,' he said sincerely, kissing Aunty Sue who also patted his bottom as he did so. 'Our pleasure,' said Mimi. 'Now, honey, your bathroom is at the end of your hall, so you can do your teeth and have a wee before you get into bed. We're a sit down house, by the way. Little boys can be messy, so you'll sit on the toilet for everything, OK?' Tim looked at Mimi's smiling face. This was over the top, he thought. Still, he thought, he'd humour this pair. He didn't want to appear ungrateful. 'OK,' he said. 'Off you go then,' said Mimi. 'Sleep tight. And don't feel nervous about being in a strange new house. You're very welcome here, and the plastic sheet is there if you do have a little accident.' Tim blushed. 'OK,' he said, looking downwards. 'Goodnight Mimi and, er, Aunty Sue.' The women laughed. 'Goodnight, Timmy,' said Mimi. 'See you in the morning.' Tim retreated upstairs. He found the bathroom at the end of the short hall, and was soon standing at the white basin, looking at the Disney toothbrush on the glass on the side of the hand basin. He put some toothpaste on it and began brushing his teeth as he looked around the brightly lit room. There was no shower, only a big bath. Typical English, Tim thought. They must have had a kid here, he thought. There were a few rubber bath toys on the ledge at one end of the bath. A fat little pig in a princess outfit, a yellow duck and a foam teddy bear wearing a short dress and a ribbon around its neck. Tim smiled. His own childhood had been quite austere, with no such friendly-looking toys. There was a low bench against the wall under the window. It was padded and covered in what looked like soft plastic. Tim wondered why it was there as he finished brushing his teeth and sat as instructed, peeing gently into the toilet bowl. He was surprised to feel the sudden urge for a bowel movement, and enjoyed the next few minutes as he always did. He'd often wondered if everyone felt that way about that bodily function. He wiped himself carefully and pulled his pyjama pants back up. He turned to the bath toys as he left the room, and couldn't resist an urge to say goodnight to them. He turned out the light, closed the door and was soon in his soft new bed. He felt the slight slipperiness of the plastic sheet as he climbed into the bed, but had no time to think about it. He fell asleep almost immediately and slept soundly through the night. To be continued.
  2. Oops, I've done it again! I know there are some unfinished stories around, but this one was running through my head last night. Sorry about the odd formatting. I wrote this last night on an iPad in Pages, and it's gone a bit weird. Where To Now? Chapter 1 1/8/15 It was a Sunday morning, and the sun was streaming into the comfortable furnished bedroom through the tall French doors to the patio. Eva was still asleep in the big bed, having hardly moved since the she and Bob had undressed and stumbled into bed after a lengthy dinner at Eva’s boss’s house the previous evening. Bob was awake, his eyes wide. His hangover seemed a remote care compared with his present fears. He slid his hand towards his legs. It definitely had happened. He had soaked the bed. ‘Eva, wake up,’ he said, pushing his wife’s bare shoulder. 5/8/15 ‘Oh, Bob,’ said Eva, looking at Bob’s embarrassed face. ‘That’s three times in five nights.’ ‘I don’t know what’s wrong,’ said Bob dejectedly. ‘Maybe it’s alcohol, or something. We did have a lot to drink at Jen’s.’ ‘That was days ago,’ said Eva. ‘It must be something else. You really have to see Sally, Bob, even if it’s embarrassing. And you have to tell her about, you know, when you were younger. What you told me.’ Bob didn’t answer straight away. He climbed out of bed, and sat on the bedclothes next to Eva. ‘I still think it’s that big dinner. I’m sure it won’t happen again. I’ve just got a feeling,’ said Bob. ‘Anyway, just to make sure, I’ll lie on a towel on a plastic, a garbage bag or something.’ ‘Bob, you can’t sleep on a garbage bag,’ said Eva. ‘Or towels. I think you should see Sally.’ ‘Let’s just try it,’ said Bob. ‘I’m sure it won’t happen again. I feel different this morning.’ Eva looked at him. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘One more night. This mattress won’t take another wetting, and I’ve ordered a new one anyway, so it won’t matter, but if you do wet, we go to Sally, OK? Understood?’ Bob nodded. He was the boss at work, and he felt a little uncomfortable with the way Eva was telling him what to do like this. Not that it mattered. The problem would stop. It did when he was younger. After he was finally potty trained, he had a few relapses, but they only ever lasted a few nights. Bob didn’t like thinking about his secret past. His last relapse was when he was 20. A week of humiliating bedwetting, then, nothing. He had been living in a share house, and it had taken a bit of clever work to deal with the issue without being sprung by his house mates. There had been one or two cases of damp underwear, too, but nothing abnormal, or at least, unexplainable. He was sure the problem was more common than people thought, because no-one ever talked about it. He was quite normal. 6/8/15 Bob woke on a saturated towel. The garbage bag prevented the pee soaking into the mattress, and his hip was in a shallow pool of pee. Gingerly, Bob climbed out of bed, and was trying to pull the mass of wet toweling and plastic off the bed when Eva woke up. She didn’t say anything; she just looked at Bob. ‘I’ll call Sally after breakfast,’ she said. ‘I think you should take the day off, too. I’m sure Sal will see us straight away, and I think you might need a rest day. You keep saying how stressed you are at work. I think that’s what might be behind this, actually.’ Bob shrugged. He’d accepted that this would happen as soon as he woke up and realized his predicament. Anyway, he thought, a day off work was a good idea. He had plenty of underlings who could look after things. ‘You’ve got some new underwear in your drawer,’ said Eva as Bob emerged from the shower. ‘Without any stains on the front. I suggest you wear those to see Sally.’ Bob grunted in reply. What guy didn’t have a few marks on his underpants? ‘I’m not going to strip at the doctor’s,’ he said. ‘You don’t know,’ said Eva in response. Bob opened his sock drawer and took out a pair of bright white underpants. There wasn’t much conversation on the way to the clinic, and soon enough, Bob found himself sitting in Sally’s small consulting room. He was happy enough to let Eva do the talking. Bob simply felt embarrassed. Eva described what had happened. Bob made his excuses. ‘OK,’ said Sally, a non-nonsense woman a few years older than Eva and Bob. ‘Let’s have a look at you.’ Eva had worked with Sally a few years before, and the two had got along well. Sally had been their local doctor ever since. Bob stood up, not sure what Sally wanted. ‘Pants off, please,’ said Sally. Bob undid his belt and dropped his pants to his ankles. ‘Right off, please,’ said Sally. Bob stepped out of his pooled pants and stood in his shirt, with his hands in front of him. Sally stepped forward and moved his hands aside. ‘A little damp, I see,’ she said, her latex-gloved fingers touching the front of Bob’s underpants where a dark patch about the size of an orange disfigured the new white cotton. ‘That’s normal,’ said Bob defensively. ‘It happens to everyone.’ Sally didn’t answer, She looked quickly at Eva. ‘When was the last time you used the bathroom, Bob?’ she asked. ‘This morning,’ he said. ‘It’s just a bit of, you know, dampness,’ ‘Do you always know when you need to use the bathroom?’ asked Sally. Bob paused for a moment. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Except at night,’ offered Eva. This is excruciating, thought Bob. ‘We’ll get to that,’ said Sally. ‘Now, Bob, I want you to take off your underwear.’ Bob groaned. ‘OK,’ he said, and complied. Normally, Bob wouldn’t have minded some woman asking him to strip. But this reminded him of going to the doctor’s with his mother when he was a child. He was glad he didn’t have an erection. Sally had a good look and feel, asking Bob about his habits. They then talked about Bob’s bedwetting, and some ‘strategies’ for managing it. ‘It might not even happen again,’ said Bob as Sally was telling Eva about fluid regimes and even about protective bedwear. ‘We’ll see,’ said Sally. ‘We can’t be too optimistic, given your history.’ ‘My history?’ said Bob, glaring at Eva. ‘Did you…?’ ‘Bob, it’s in your medical history,’ said Sally. ‘Which I have. Your family doctor was very thorough.’ ‘Christ,’ said Bob. ‘Bob, this is for your benefit,’ said Eva. ‘Try to be adult about this.’ ‘I am being adult,’ said Bob crossly. Sally seemed to ignore him, and continued talking to Eva. ‘I’ll put these in a plastic bag,’ said Sally, picking up Bob’s damp underpants. ‘I have some disposable pants he can wear home.’ Great, thought Bob. Sally produced a white papery looking garment. She handed it to Bob, who put the pants on with obvious distaste. He pulled them up to his waist. ‘They’re huge,’ he complained, looking down at his encased loins. ‘They’re full cut for maximum protection,’ said Sally. ‘If you need it. Now, I’d like to see you both again in a week. I’d get a plastic sheet for the bed, too,’ she advised Eva. ‘The drug store down the street has them.’ There wasn’t much more to be said. Bob was glad to pull his trousers over the big white underpants. They weren’t just huge, they were made of layers, Bob thought. Like those old people’s pants. He would change as soon as he got home, he thought. 'Now, Bob,' said Sally, turning in the swivelling chair she now sat in, opposite Eva and Bob, who were both seated in slightly plainer chairs. 'When you wet during the day, do you get much warning?' she asked him. 'Well,' said Bob, it's just very slight dripping, after a pee, you know. Like that,' said Bob, hoping that would satisfy Sally's humiliating curiosity. 'Any involuntary dampness is clinically wetting,' Sally assured him. 'So do you get any warning before your daytime accidents?' Bob was feeling angry. They weren't 'daytime accidents', they were minor, insignificant... things, thought Bob, searching for some noun that didn't give what was happening any status. Christ, he thought, he couldn't even refer to it in his own head b any name other than 'that thing' or just 'that'. 'I wouldn't call them accidents,' Bob said firmly. 'Oh, I'm sorry,' said Sally. 'Do you mean to wet during the day sometimes?' Bob was taken aback. Sally sounded perfectly serious. What really shocked Bob was some little part of him, some distant, high pitched voice, was shouting 'Yes! Yes!' 'Of course I don't,' said Bob. He almost felt the little figure in his head who had been shouting turn away in silence, and start to walk into the thickening fog that was developing around the little person. 'Little person,' Bob thought. 'Odd. I wonder what that means, if anything?' 'I see,' said Sally. 'They're still clinically 'daytime accidents'. Now, with what Eva has told me about your recent behaviour, wetting the bed at night and denying you have a problem - but we'll talk about that - I'll combine all those factors to give you a diagnosis.' 'Behaviour?' Bob interrupted. 'It's not behaviour, Sally, it's just, just a thing that happens sometimes. It’s not serious. I've had it before.' Instantly, Bob regretted what he had said. ‘I’ve had it before.’ Why non earth did he say that? Both women were looking at him. 'They both know anyway,' Bob thought crossly to himself. 'What's the big deal? Apart from trying to super embarrass him, and he doubted they would do that. At least not both together. And not Eva, thought Bob. Probably not. Would she, he wondered. For the first time, he felt a little scared of his wife. What did she think of what was going on? Every day this week he had ended up with damp underpants. Quite damp, a couple of times. He had been lucky to get his trousers in the wash without Eva noticing. Although this morning she seemed to suspect something. Bob had wet the bed again last night, but that wasn't the important bit. When Bob came out of the shower, he found Eva holding the jeans he had been wearing the day before. 'Honey, these smell very badly of pee,’ Eva said. ‘I'm going to wash them. I noticed it after you'd gone to bed last night. You'd soaked these jeans right down both thighs. No wonder you rushed in, then played computer games until it was dark, then tried to sneak these into the laundry basket. I found them in there this morning.' Bob had protested, but Eva had made it a rule now that Bob was to change his trousers every day, while his previous day's clothing were being washed. Bob objected strongly. He'd had a couple of slightly more serious ‘things’ happen in the last few days, but there were good reasons each time, and the other times were just what always happened. So why make a big deal of it and say my pants need washing every day because, something happen? Eva had just shrugged, so Bob supposed the rule still stood. He had got used to Eva’s rules. She would only make a rule like that if she really thought it was more than just a slight blip in what had been happening for ages, Bob reasoned. Well, off and on, for ages, he thought. He had been properly out of diapers in the day and night just after he turned 10. That wasn’t unheard of, surely. Then at 20, he had a couple of weeks of serious bedwetting and real accidents in the daytime, which was a bit unusual, admittedly. Bob remembered how scared he had felt at the time, and how hard he had fought against the problem. It had gone away after a few weeks, but maybe it was back, for a few days anyway, thought Bob. He just had to get through a short time of this. Eva would eventually forget about it, if it bothered her at all, and all would be well. 'Bob?' Sally was asking him. 'Where were you? You just drifted off while I was talking to you!' Bob felt oddly vulnerable. He looked at Sally. ‘Sorry,’ he said. 'I was saying, Bob, that considering all the facts, a sound diagnosis isn't hard to arrive at,' said Sally. 'I could have told you that,' said Bob cheerfully. 'So hurry up, Sally, I've got things to do.' Bob looked at Eva for confirmation. It had taken this doctor’s appointment, to have been dragged to a medical clinic to have some medical friend of Eva’s hear all about his most intimate things, all confessed while standing naked in front of this professional sort of psychologist or whatever she was specialising in after working at the same hospital in which Eva had been engaged to advise on catering. Anyway, Bob was now back in charge. It was all bullshit and not serious. Bob sat back to wait for Sally's diagnosis. 'Bob!' said Eva. 'You don't speak to Sally like that!' Bob felt himself flinching the straightened his back. He apologized again. This was demeaning, and he couldn’t wait to leave. 'Eva,' Sally said, 'I'm classifying Bob as a bedwetter, with mild daytime incontinence. No faecal incontinence at present. My recommendation is for Bob to wear diapers at night, and query his need for at least pullups during the day. I want to trial some unisex training pants during the daytime, starting now. Also query Bob taking long service leave, leave of absence, or a more permanent adjustment in his employment. And I'll need to see you both in a week,' concluded Sally, closing her file and standing up. 'Thank you, Sally,' said Eva. 'This is crap,' said Bob. 'Eva, we're going.’ Bob didn’t like the way Sally had addressed her ‘diagnosis’, which was crap, to Eva and not to him. He stood up and went to take Eva by the arm, but she stepped back. 'No, Bob, I don't think it is,' said Eva with a seriousness that shocked Bob. 'The other two adults in this room, Bob,' are as aware as you are of your problems. But only two of the three adults here are admitting that there are any problems at all.' 'There aren't any problems,' said Bob. Sally answered him by moving towards him, and reached out to his belt. 'My God,' thought Bob, then remembered that Sally was a doctor and probably did that all day. Sally rapidly had Bob's pants unbuckled, unzipped and around his ankles. Bob stiffened as she felt his underpants, without the latex glove on the time. Bob could feel it now, too. 'You are quite wet, Bob,' said Sally, squeezing Bob’s genitals gently but firmly though his wet underpants. Bob looked down to see a few drips hit the industrial carpet and make tiny wet patches before disappearing as the surrounding fibres wicked the moisture away. The few drops continued for a few seconds before becoming a stream. Bob could do nothing about it. 'It's OK, honey,' Eva was saying soothingly. Bob needed her assurance. He was fighting hard not to cry. He had been trying to ignore the fear that it might be serious, and now it seemed that perhaps it was. For today, anyway, he thought. It will pass. Probably, he admitted to himself, then he felt himself blacking out, or something. Some time later, Bob was surprised to find himself sitting on the floor. 'Welcome back,' Sally was telling him. Bob tried to think what had happened, but couldn't recall anything. 'You more or less collapsed, Bob,' said Eva. 'You zoned out completely.' 'We know you put up a struggle against your situation, honey,' said Eva, but you just couldn't cope. You started crying and you couldn't tell us what was wrong...' 'You couldn't verbalise,' said Sally. Bob couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'You'd wet quite a lot, honey' said Eva. 'Well before you started getting upset. You didn't even notice you were doing it, but we did. You were squirming as you talked, then you stopped squirming and went on getting upset as if nothing had happened.' 'Which along with everything else makes you clinically a bedwetter with some daytime incontinence, and part of the treatment for both is the wearing of protective clothing in addition to other management strategies. Eva will explain more about that to you when she gets you home,' said Sally. Bob really did feel like crying. Either this was a very bad dream, or he had relapsed again, and worse than he remembered when he was 20. This could take two weeks to go, like it did then! He recalled it getting so bad that he had to leave his share house and move back home with his mother, who put him in diapers day and night, which he was sure made things worse. Eventually, he seemed to almost will himself out of it. And this was only about day two this time. Or day three, perhaps. With good excuses almost every time, he told himself. But now, he didn't even know he had peed, and he couldn't even stop when he was peeing his pants in front of two women, one of them his wife. Bob suddenly felt freezing cold. His back was cold. Bob didn't have to turn to know who or what was behind him. He saw who it was quite clearly in some sort of compelling mental hologram. Standing behind Bob as he sat on the floor between the two women, was the child he'd heard so often, but had never seen so close. A pudgy face, with red cheeks and framed by blonde curls, seemed right in his face. 'You're a baby!' the apparition shouted at Bob. He felt the child's fizzing breath and shivered. 'I'm not a baby,' said Bob, almost crying. 'Shh,' said Eva. 'We know you're not. Not really. But you are having a few problems, honey, and we want to deal with them in the best way possible.' Bob was shocked that he had spoken aloud. He felt Sally release her grip. He realized too that he had finally stopped peeing. 'What's happening to me!' Bob asked himself. 'Am I going insane?' 'Bob, we're here to help,' said Sally. 'My diagnosis, which is correct, by the way, has probably given you a shock. You're probably asking yourself all sorts of dire questions. Am I going mad? Even, should I commit suicide? But asking those questions is a waste of time, Bob. You are not mad or going mad, and your life is not and will not be so bad that you would ever want to end it.' Bob was silent. How did Sally know what he was thinking? He realised that he could not help but trust her. He really did have problems. The treatment was not anything Bob would ever want, but it was the best way of dealing with this. Sally said 'protective clothing'. That he needed it. She meant diapers. He had to wear them now. He needed them. That conclusion thudded in Bob's brain. 'I need diapers,' he told himself several times. What a shocking thing to say. To have to do! 'I need to wear a diaper,' he told himself. He felt Sally's hand in his arm. 'Yes, honey, but it may not be for all that long. I have some pants for you to wear home, and Eva knows what to do about your clothing after that. Belinda has some underwear and pants for you in the next room,' Sally said. Bob was confused. He wasn't sure at all what was going on. He didn’t even know when he was speaking aloud or just thinking. He needed to wear a diaper now, that was obvious. But there was something else that was concerning him. For the life of him, Bob couldn't think what it was. He thought it had been important, but it probably wasn't. He let Sally take his hand and guide him into the next room. Then he remembered something. It wasn't the thing he was looking for, but it was something. 'Eva,' he said accusingly, 'Have you been talking to Sally about this without telling me?' Eva looked steadily at Bob. 'Bob, of course I have been talking to Sally. Why shouldn't I? My husband of 30 years old starts wetting the bed and wets in the daytime too, and is childish enough about it to try to hide his wet pants by sneaking them into the wash, and in general denies that he is what he is,' she said. Bob said nothing. He looked at the floor, and let Belinda pull him gently into the next room and close the door. Bob only realised he was crying when Belinda started tenderly wiping his face. 'OK, mister,' Belinda said. 'One dry diaper, coming up!' Bob stopped crying. He couldn't help but giggle at Belinda's pantomime way of expressing herself. She was a big woman, with big soft breasts - Bob saw that immediately and was finding it hard to think of anything else. He tried to suppress his giggle, but only succeeded in sounding even more pathetic. Bob really was wet, and Belinda helped him onto a long, low table. She took a few minutes before Bob was trussed up in a thick, taped diaper. Bob didn't speak during the procedure. He did exactly as he was told, and when Belinda had him in his training pants, she produced a pair fo pael yellow track pants the clinic kept for such emergencies. She tugged them up high around Bob’s waist. Bob soon found himself back in Sally's consulting room, holding his wife's hand and politely saying goodbye to Sally. 'And say thank you to Sally for lending you such a nice pair of pants, please Bob,' Eva said. What’s the use, Bob thought. 'Thank you, Sally, for giving me such yummy pants!' Bob said, then let his mouth hang open. How could he be talking like that? He looked down at his pants. He thought he could notice the slight extra thickness of the training pants. And the pants weren't yummy. They were a sort of icky yellow. He swung around Eva with one step and wrapped his arms around her. He didn't know what else to do. Bob was acutely aware of the pants as they walked past the people in the waiting room. Bob was glad that he didn’t see anyone in the waiting room who had seen him go into the doctor’s office wearing the trousers Eva was now carrying in a plastic bag. Except the receptionist, he thought with a groan to himself. The girl smiled warmly at Bob as they passed her. He glanced away, and hurried through the door. 'Come on, baby,' Eva said, taking Bob’s hand as he stood looking vague at the entrance to the clinic. He trailed her to the carpark, and got into the passenger side as Eva held the door open. They drove in relative silence for the first half hour of the 50 minute journey. At the half hour point, Eva stopped at a 24 hour bakery. Bob had realised he was wet as he got out of the car. The shop was small, busy and not well lit. Eva had insisted he come into the shop with her, and Bob had felt safe enough taking the chance. However, he took Dr Sally's advice and held on to Eva's hand as they entered the busy shop. Bob was actually glad of the training pants as he followed Eva through the shop. He could feel their wet weight. It was a strange feeling, but Bob understood that it was nothing to be ashamed of now. As Sally had told him, it was a 'clinical' thing. Eva bought her items, and the couple left the shop without incident. 'I think I'm a bit wet,' said Bob quietly as they returned to the car. 'I know, honey. I'll change you when we get home,' Eva had replied. She's pretty calm about it, thought Bob. I wonder how she knew? By the time they arrived home, Bob was feeling keen to get out of the cold, clammy underpants. At least he’d feel normal again. Eva had other ideas. Against Bob’s strong objections, she put him in another pair of the damned training pants, citing doctor’s orders. ‘Don’t you remember what Sally said?’ Eva asked him. So much had been said, and Bob was so annoyed, and then had blacked out, that he hardly remembered anything Sally had said. He wasn’t usually so out of it, he thought, but these were unusual times. ‘Not really,’ Bob said quietly. ‘Oh, Bob,’ said Eva. ‘She wants you to wear these training pants during the day for a while, and keep track of your daytime wetting.’ ‘It’s not daytime wetting!’ said Bob. ‘Bob, I haven’t got time for this,’ said Eva. ‘We will follow Sally’s instructions, so, leg in please.’ ‘I can do it,’ said Bob, trying to take the offending pants from Eva. ‘No, Bob,’ Eva said. ‘I’m in charge of this. And I don’t want a fight tonight, either.’ Bob cringed. He remembered at last what Sally had said. ‘Incontinence pants at night.’ They weren’t what he was wearing now. He had a vision of his mother putting him in his thick nighttime diapers. He kept quiet and let Eva pull up his training pants, then he stepped back into the awful yellow track pants. The sooner they were well worn and in the wash to go back to Sally, the better, he thought. 7/8/15 The previous night was something of a blur. Bob had endured the ignominy of being taped into a thick diaper by Eva, but at least he felt more comfortable now than he had waking up on the wet towels and the garbage bag. ‘How are you feeling, honey?’ asked Eva. She was already up, and Bob rolled over. He knew he was wet. ‘Hop up, and into the shower, then I’ll get you ready for the day,’ Eva said. ‘Are you wet?’ she added. ‘Yes,’ said Bob. Eva said nothing, but pulled back the bedclothes and untapped his diaper while Bob lay back on the bed. Eva was businesslike about the whole thing, patting Bob to lift his bottom, or to turn this way or that. Bob decided he had to put up with the process, for the time being anyway, and tried to think of anything else. The last thing he wanted was to have an erection, and fortunately that didn't happen, even when Eva wiped and powdered his soft penis. He couldn't have Eva thinking he was getting any sort of sexual kick out of this. Free at last, Bob got into the shower. 'Honey,' called Eva while Bob was enjoying a good soap and wash, 'If this goes on much longer, I want you to shave your pubic hair, please. Sally said your hair, even though there's not much of it, is a hygiene problem. You can use my shaver, the pink one on the shelf.' 'OK,' said Bob grumpily. There was no chance of him having to do that, he thought. Anyway, she might consider shaving, he mused. Eva didn't believe in women shaving, and sported a huge thick bush of glossy, curly dark hair. It made Bob feel embarrassed about his blonde wisps, and he wanted to keep what he had. Eva was waiting when Bob emerged, and she helped him not his revolting training pants. Bob noticed now that they had a pattern on them. Eva caught his eye. 'They're balloons,' she said. 'Some of the others have flowers.' 'Great,' said Bob, looking down as Eva pulled the pants over his buttocks. 'Well, they would use the same material they use for toddlers' trainers,' said Eva. 'And they're unisex, so boys and girls have the same patterns.' 'I'm a man,' said Bob shortly. 'In case you hadn't noticed.' Eva gave Bob a playful pat on the smooth bulge at the front of his trying pants. 'Sure you are, Bobby. A man who wets his pants like a little boy and has been put back in diapers,' said Eva. She was surprised at Bob's reaction. She hadn't meant to be cruel, only ironic, but Bob seemed quite upset. 'I'm not a little boy,' he said, his voice quavering. 'And I don't wet my pants, I just need some help sometimes in case I have an accident. And don't call me Bobby.' it took Eva a few minutes to calm Bob down. She was thinking of Sally's words on the phone earlier: 'He's probably scared of what's happening, hence the defiance,' Sally had said. 'But it's a childish defiance. He'll fold soon enough if you're firm with him. Being frightened is a double-edged sword. It means that he'll tend to do what he's told, especially if it's by an authority figure he hopes will help him now. That's you or me, Eva.' Eva smiled as she finished dressing Bob. She had told him she didn't mean what she said, and for him not to worry about the appearance of his trainers. After all, only she and Sally would see them. Wearing the training pants under his jeans was an odd feeling, but Bob soon forgot about it. Eva suggested that he do some gardening, and he spent the next hour happily weeding. He had always found it a very therapeutic activity. To be continued.
  3. Robin's Tale Chapter 1 This tale probably began when Robin and Sue first met. It was an unlikely pairing - the statuesque, athletic girl and the bookish, slightly chubby, somewhat shorter man 4 years her junior. The romance raised eyebrows, certainly those of Sue's father's second wife Kay who felt that her step-daughter had made a poor choice. Robin was a writer, and perennially short of funds, while Sue was the only daughter of a wealthy businessman. After seeing each other for a couple of years, the couple was married one January, soon after the death of Sue's father. The pair moved into a large house on an acreage between two towns. Robin was struggling along as usual with contracts here and there, while Sue had more or less taken over her father's firm and was in fact the breadwinner. The house was in Sue's name - Kay wouldn't hear of anything else. Sue appointed good managers and was able to devote much of her time to her hobbies of running and gym work, while Robin kept hoping for his big break. Kay and Sue got on well. Both were tall and well-built, and shared an interest in keeping fit. Then, after two years of relatively uneventful marriage, things changed. 'Here?' said Robin with some concern. 'Can't she go somewhere else? She's got plenty of money. Why does she have to live with us?' 'Because I want it that way,' Sue told him. The question of who had the most authority in their marriage had never been so starkly obvious, thought Robin. He was used to Sue getting her way on small things. He found her hard to argue with in matters like where and when they went out, since it was usually her money they were spending. It had become a habit between them and Robin rarely objected to Sue's choices. They were generally the right choices, Robin thought, and life was easier when he went along. Sue had even started buying Robin's clothes. That was cool, thought Robin. She tended to order him around a bit, but he understood that she was busy, and he knew he could 'drift' a bit. He was happy enough, but having Kay move in with them was something else. Kay made no secret of her opinion of Robin. But after a few gripes, he accepted the inevitable, just as he accepted most of the other problems he encountered in life. So Kay moved into the spare bedroom, and Robin had two women telling him what was what. A few weeks after 'invasion day', as Robin considered it, Kay was helping Sue with the washing. 'Sue,' she was saying , holding up a pair of Robin's underpants, 'Why do you put up with this?' Kay waved the once white underwear at Sue. 'Look at these stains,' said Kay with disgust. 'And they're all like this.' Sue defended Robin, as she always did. 'He's a guy, Kay,' she said. 'All guys do that.' 'No they don't,' countered Kay. 'And if you had spent a bit more time when you were younger seeing men instead of prancing around a gym, you might have learned a bit more about men and made a better choice than that little weed. Your father never...' Sue knew where this was going. 'OK, I'll speak to him. OK?' she said crossly. 'Well, make sure you do,' said Kay. 'This is unacceptable in a four year old, let alone...' 'I said I'd speak to him, Kay,' said Sue. 'Can we drop it?' 'I'd spank him,' said Kay, 'You can deal with these,' she added, dropping the underpants in the laundry basket and walking out of the laundry. Sue had dealt with them before, and with Robin's other issues. His occasional bedwetting, and his very occasional wet pants. A hangover, Robin said, of urinary tract infections he'd suffered as a child. Sue felt sorry for Robin, and had let the matter end there. To be continued.
  4. Young Chris in London

    Young Chris in London Chapter 1 Chris was a stranger in a strange land. He’d been in London for a week now, and the excitement of being in one of the world’s great cities was giving way to the realisation of the great cost of maintaining himself there. Having no contacts in the city or even in Britain, Chris had been staying in a pub Battersea, in what for London was medium priced accommodation, but which for Chris and his New Zealand ideas of value was ruinously expensive. The short, slight 25 year old Kiwi with lanky blond hair was taking advantage of his total anonymity to make his first tentative moves beyond his own bedroom in relation to his deepest, darkest personal secret – his interest in diapers, or more properly, age play, as he had found from the numerous internet sites he frequented in the privacy of his student accommodation in Auckland. Chris had even gone as far as buying packs of adult diapers from a medical supply store near his lodgings in New Zealand. He had been very nervous the first time he bought them, ‘for his grandmother’, but after tow or three purchases, he had become braver, realizing that the lady in the store didn’t really mind why he was buying them. The last time he had bought them the lady had even suggested his grandmother might prefer ‘Molicare Super all in ones’ which he found much more interesting than the Molicare pullups he had been buying on the strength of an ad he’d seen. The all in ones were even more like real baby diapers than the pullups, and Chris loved wearing them at night. He could even use them while lying down without fear of the leaking which occurred with the pullups. Much searching on the internet had revealed a contact at East Molesey near Hampton Court. By googling the phone number given, Chris had found that it was a custom maternity wear shop operated by Louise, the same name as in the discreet ad for ‘AB Services’ which was his starting point. Chris took the train and bus towards Hampton Court with a stomach full of butterflies. He hadn’t dared travel with any of his ‘supplies’ in case his luggage was opened, and now, unknown London, he was wondering where his amateur sleuthing would lead him. Soon enough, he was standing in front of a neat little shop offering ‘custom maternity wear and goods. He was wondering what excuse he could invent to enter such a place, when he saw a small card in the window. ‘Board and lodging for the right clean, responsible tenant’ he read. ‘Students very welcome. Mrs Louise Brooks’. There was a nearby address. The butterflies in Chris’s stomach were now flying in circles. He memorized the address and found the A to Z app on his phone. Walking distance, he thought happily, and set off with his soft luggage, glad of his habit of travelling light. Mrs Brooks’ house was liked so many others in London, a dark brick Victorian terrace with a small, well kept garden and a clean little van in the front yard. Chris walked up the few steps to the front door and pressed the polished brass buzzer. He had a half-formed plan to be a casual customer who had seen the card in the shop window. While he was waiting for a response, it occurred to him that it could seem odd that a travelling student would have seen the ad in the maternity shop window, but before he could think further the door opened. A tall, pleasant woman of about 40 stood smiling in front of him. She looked as tidy as her front garden. Her abundant auburn hair was neatly styled into a loose bun. She was nicely made up and her well-built, mature form was clad in a soft floral dress that moved gently in the cool late afternoon breeze. Chris became aware of the woman's sweet perfume as he stood on the doorstep. ‘Hello,’ she said warmly. ‘Hi,’ said Chris in his light voice. ‘I saw your ad in the shop window.’ ‘Well, come in,’ said the woman. To be continued.
  5. Robin's Tale Chapters 1-6

    The weekend's here and I have some ideas! I'm looking forward to a bit of the ol' creative writing!
  6. Robin's Tale Chapters 1-6

    I have some spare time coming up and I'm looking forward to doing some more writing.
  7. Little Annie Chapter 1 Ann Southern was a short girl with a high opinion of herself. Ann came from a privileged family, and though she was spot on five feet tall, and a little chubby, she carried herself as if she were a model. She had an annoying habit of being condescending to everyone, despite usually having to look up at them while she did it. She always knew a better way of doing something, and liked to let people know. She had been an excellent student, which made it worse. She often did have the right answer. It just got up people's noses to be lectured by this small, round faced, flat chested young lady. After leaving school, she decided to bestow her genius on the world of journalism, and after exasperating the editors of a few small publications, she scored a job with a pair of women who published a life-coaching blog from their property in the better class of rural neighbourhoods near her home town. Ann was an only child, and at 23 was left alone with a decent bank balance by the early death of her father who had brought her up after her mother's death when Ann was very young. It suited Ann to be her own boss in the world, just as it didn't really suit anyone else to do the job. Ada Vincent and her friend Cally Thorpe had drifted into online publishing from their previous business operating a homemakers' magazine. They needed a writer who could also program, and when Ann answered the ad they placed around the publishing world, they were initially impressed by the petite girl's confidence and ablities. Ann was hapy to move into the self-contained flat in the couple's ranch, and didn't seem worried about the modest pay. She was going to be a major online publisher, she told the women, so she needed to learn the ropes at a small, basic operation. Thanks very much, Ada thought, and Cally began to wonder if they'd made the right choice. However, the arrangements were settled, and Ann arrived to take up residence with them, as she put it. The two publishers really needed someone with Ann's undoubted skills to help their growing enterprise, and Ann was hired despite the oddly guarded references she had produced. Ann lied that she had had only two jobs in journalism before. She'd had four, but only two of her references were kind enough to be useful. Those had been written by employers who had been glad to see Ann go, but nevertheless felt sorry enough for her to overlook her most aggravating traits in their letters. 'I wouldn't normally be interested in accommodation like this,' Ann was saying as Cally helped her unpack her two suitcases in the pleasant little flat. 'I've always had an en suite,' she went on. 'With a bath. But I always make do.' 'I'll unpack those, thank you,' she said rather sharply to Cally who had unzipped a soft suitcase of clothing on the bed. Cally raised her eyebrows, and caught sight of two large packs of panty liners on one side of the case before she let its cover drop again. 'Are these the only towels you have?' asked Ann, unfolding a pink towel from the bed. 'I'm used to bath sheets.' Cally thought the towel Ann was holding up was big enough to be a bath sheet for her small frame. 'That's it, I'm afraid,' Cally replied. 'You'll just have to make do.' Ann glanced at her. 'I suppose I will,' said Ann. 'I should have brought my own.' Cally felt a sudden urge to put Ann over her knee, but banished the thought. 'There's soap over here,' said Cally, and couldn't resist leaning over as Ann began to unpack her clothes. Cally was well built, with a curvaceous figure that she liked to make the most of. She smiled to herself as she leaned over the bed to pick up the soap that had been by the towel. Cally deliberately pressed her large, soft breasts against Ann's shoulder as she did so. Take that, you rude little girl, Cally thought uncharitably as she felt Ann react slightly. There was quite a contrast between Cally's generous globes and Ann's little mounds, nestled in the unnecessary bra that looked to Cally suspiciously loose and padded. 'What dainty feet you have,' Cally said sweetly as she stood up again. 'Do you have trouble finding nice shoes in that size?' She wanted to say 'grown up shoes', but didn't want to start a war with this strong-willed little girl. To be continued.
  8. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    Thanks CDfm! It's good to get out of my comfort zone, and I'm glad I can do it. It's hard work though. : )
  9. Robin's Tale Chapters 1-6

    Robin's Tale Chapter 6 Robin needed a lot of assurance to step into the white pullup Kay offered him. Sue had listened with Robin to Kay's convincing argument for him wearing the absorbent pullup. First, it wasn't a diaper. It was a pullup. An adult pullup at that, intended to help people in Robin's position - who had occasional accidents that weren't their fault. It was resuable if it wasn't needed, and it was indistinguishable when on from ordinary underwear. Lastly, said Kay, they were a very comportable garment, so she'd been told. After Kay's description, Robin was actually keen to wear it. It was comfortable too, and warm. And it made him feel not only secure, but a little bit special. Kay tugged the pullup right up tight, and Robin stepped into the track pants. Sue was a little shocked to see how smooth the front of the pants looked. Robin didn't seem to notice, but Sue pulled them down slightly until the fabric fell outwards, to give at least the appearance that Robin was male. With Robin's long blond hair which he often wore in a ponytail in the approved fashion for highly creative folk, his slight chubbiness, smooth crotch and long hair made it difficult at first sight to guess his gender. Even when he was in jeans people regularly made that mistake. Robin didn't seem upset by it. Sue thought that Robin probably regarded gender as something minor like hair colour. Sue had heard one of Robin's stream of editors ask in puzzlement whether the narrator in a particular manuscript was male or female. I dunno, Robin had answered. Whatever you like, I suppose. The distinction didn't seem important to him. The trip back home was uneventful. Robin continued to look out the window and the women continued their discussion of Sue's workplace. Robin told Sue how comfortable the pullups were, and Sue was happy Robin was happy. Kay seemed ot think getting Robin into them was a job well done, and she was vindicated a few days later when Robin came into the house one afternoon and asked if he could have another pullup because he had wet his pants while gardening. He said he was thinking of something else, so it wasn't his fault. He wet the bed a couple of days later, saying that he was dreaming he was wearing his pullup. When he wet the bed again, two days later, Sue and Kay had a discussion. Kay suggested that action should be taken. afgain, Sue agreed. Kay's ideas were practical and would help everyone. Robin's occasional bedwetting had got the mattress to a state Kay said was beyond redemption. Both sides were now stained and the fabric had split. They'd tried a plastic undersheet, but Sue found it impossible to sleep on it. Robin was happy enough in pullups during the day but baulked at a diaper at night. I'm not a baby, he objected, and later told Sue of his bad memories of being kept diapered at night until he was almost twelve, with the attendant taunting from his younger, undiapered siblings. He was very sensitive about it. A temporary fix was decided on, whereby Sue and Kay would share the double bed in the main bedroom and Robin would sleep on a plastic undersheet in Kay's former bed in the spare room, with 'cuddling rights' regularly allowed - with Sue only, of course. They would 'see how that went' according to Kay. The arrangement was put into place. The first night was awful. Sue could hear Robin crying gently by himself, although he denied it in the morning. No, said Kay, leave him, she told Sue firmly. He has to get used to it. She did her best to console Sue, and Sue even put her arms around Kay as she went to sleep. The second night, Robin went to bed early on Kay's recommendation, but woke and appeared at Sue and Kay's door as the two women were gettign changed for bed. Kay gently told Robin that they were getting changed and it wasn't appropriate for him to be in their bedroom while they were changing. Robin accepted that and went back to bed. On the other hand, Kay said it was quite acceptable for Sue to help Robin along with his showering and bedtime, regardless of Robin's state of dress. Robin tended to dawdle and was generally quite inefficient, and so with Kay's 'training', his bedtime began to be a more orderly affair. Robin responded well to routine, and already tended to do whatever he was told by Sue. It began to make no difference whether it was Sue or Kay getting him settled for the night. Robin loved being invited to the main bedroom for cuddles before going back to his bedroom. Sue was happy for this to happen every night, but Kay was of the opinion that good things should be rationed, and could be used to keep Robin 'up to the mark' as she put it. If Robin had been organised and helpful during the day, he had a good chance of a nice cuddle that night. Sex didn't seem to be on his agenda. Over the first few weeks of the new arrangement, Robin began to adapt to the changed situation. He became very trusting of Kay, and told Sue as much. It was in Robin's nature to trust people who extended kindness and care towards him. He had what Kay called a dependant personality, which alarmed Sue but as Kay explained it, it was a good thing, both for him and the two women. He began to rely increasingly on Sue especially, and would wait for either of the women to help him into a fresh pullup. He had begun to have his accident s more regularly now that he was confident his clothing would stay dry. Sue became concerned about the cost, but Kay, who seemed to know about these things, assured her there were cheaper, even washable alternatives they could use. Sue began to look forward to climbing into bed with Kay every night. She didn't like to admit it, but Kay was almost as good to sleep next to as Robin was. Sometimes, when Sue was pleasantly relaxed in bed with Kay, Robin would appear, wanting his pullup changed, or wanting to talk. While 'back to bed please' was the common response, Sue felt a little guilty, but as time went on Robin seemed to realise that if Sue and Kay were tucked up in their bed, his presence wasn't always welcome if it was past his bedtime. Kay instituted an early bedtime for him to help him sleep better, in order partly to cut down on his bedwetting and the resulting washing of sheets. After the first month, Robin was wetting two or three nights a week. It would have been a lot more, Kay said, if he didn't adhere to his early bedtime. He was usually asleep by the time Sue went to kiss him goodnight and go to bed herself. Robin stopped writing so much. However, there were plenty of things for him to do at home, and either Kay or Sue often took him out in the huge garden. He enjoyed running around the garden, although Kay or Sue usually took a book and sat on a bench while Robin invesitigated the pond or the creek at the bottom of the garden. They preferred to be there, as Robin was capable of losing track of time, or even wandering into the neaby woods and losing his way, as he had done to the consternation of Sue and Kay. He would also wet sometimes and forget to tell one of the women, and complain loud and long about the resultant rash. That became less of a problem as the women started checking his pullup when the opportuity arose. Robin out up with it, but was always glad to get back to his activities. He enjoyed making things, and Kay bought him some Lego and other items which he adored. Sue was happy he was finding such pleasure in simple things. Sue's work could increasinlgly be done at home, and with effectively two homemakers, the housework wasn't a chore, although Robin could be relied on to do less and less of it. He'd stopped mowing the lawns when Kay had said that he was finding the various procedures involved with the ride-on mower difficult to manage. It was easier and simpler to get someone in. So life proceeded happily at the property. Sue noticed the changes only when she looked at old home movies. Then she'd look across at Robin with his Lego or whatever and think how much happier he was now, and how much happier she was. Sue knew things were good when for her birthday Kay arranged for a friend of hers to spend the evening as company for Robin, who got bored with sitting in a restaurant, and the two women spent a lovely night out. Robin didn't drink now anyway. Alcohol had started by ensuring that he wet, not always convenient when out, but now it actually made him unwell. It was just as easy to leave him home enjoying himself. That night, too, was one of the best Sue had spent. The pair ended up in bed somewhat drunk, and actually kissed and cuddled before falling asleep. Sue woke up entwined in Kay's arms, after a wonderful dream which she couldn't quite remember other than it being wonderful. If Sue noticed the chnages and justified them on the grounds of both her and Robin being happier, Kay seemed to regard them as approaching the ideal situation. It was Kay who introduced most of the changes in the way things were, and as for Robin, he seemed to enjoy each new way of doing things as much as the women. By summer, Robin was happy to wander around the house and garden in just his pullup and a t-shirt. He was wetting so regularly at night that Kay had found some resuable towelling squares, similar to a child's diaper which together with a plastic panty Kay called at first 'continence management apparel'. After a while Sue and Kay referred to the rig as Robin's 'diaper', even in Robin's hearing. He seemed to take that description as he took everygthign else - happily. He wore the towelling and plastic most of the time now, both under his clothing and by itself if they were home. For trips away, Kay found another product, similar to a disposable tape on diaper. Robin was quite happy whatever he was dressed in. Andrea, Kay's friend who was a pediatric nurse during the day, often came around to help out with Robin in the evening or on her days off. It was djuring one of her visits that it was brought home to Sue how much things had changed. To be continued. (No time to edit - apologies for typos)
  10. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    I reckon it's the other way around, Ellie. I think Kilroy was around in WW2, and Foo followed, in Australia at least.
  11. Robin's Tale Chapters 1-6

    Robin's Tale Chapter 5 Sue and Kay talked about Sue's job all the way into the centre of the town. Robin was supremely bored, and since his comments about the interesting things to be seen as they drove along were brushed off with a polite 'Yes dear,' he resorted to sitting quietly in his seat. He didn't care about stock levels and human resources. That was all Sue's area. She didn't talk to him about it and he had no reason to join in the women's discussion. About half way in their journey, the beers Robin had consumed began to make themselves felt. He tapped Sue on the shoulder and interrupted her discussion with Kay by saying quietly 'I need to go, Sue.' Kay said nothing as Sue asssured Robin that she was driving as fast as she could and that he should try to hang on. About five minutes later, Robin interrupted Sue again with a more urgent plea. Sue reassured him again. Then they encountered roadworks. It took a good ten minutes to get through the traffic restrictions and after that Robin was quiet. Kay awaited the upshot with interest. When they got to the mall parking lot, Robin announced that he would prefer to stay in the car. 'Really?' said Sue. Robin was always keen to go to the mall. There was a large aquarium in one of the walls there, and he often stood in front of it watching the fish while Sue shopped. It was one of the great attractions of the place for Robin. 'Suit yourself,' said Sue, and she and Kay made their way towards the large buildings. After a few dozen metres, Kay made an excuse and went back to the car. Approaching it quietly, she opened the rear door, to find Robin, as she had suspected, with the front of his jeans soaked, and very upset about it. Robin looked at her with a horrified expression and tried ineffectively to cover his wet crotch with his hands. 'Did you have an accident, Robin?' asked Kay kindly. 'No!' said Robin, glaring at her. 'Leave me alone!' Kay ignored him. 'It's OK, honey. It was a long trip, and with those roadworks. It could have happened to anyone,' she said. 'And you did go at home when Sue asked you to. So it's not your fault, is it?' Robin seemed to calm down a little, and grasped at Kay's suggestion. 'No, not my fault. An accident,' he said, trying to hold back tears. 'Of course it was,' agreed Kay. 'And anyway, wet pants, or even messy pants, aren't the end of the world. It happens to lots of girls and boys, and even grownups, too, sometimes. Why don't you come with me and we'll get you changed and fixed up. You can hold my hand all the way, and no one else will notice a thing.' Robin was torn between falling into the arms of this caring, competent lady, or taking care of himself, as he told himself a man of 28 should be able to do. After a short struggle, Robin gave in as he usually did in such internal tussles. After all, when he held Sue's hand he felt able to withstand almost anything. This wasn't much different, despite the misgivings he had had about Kay. She cared, and that's what Robin responded to more than anything else in his life. He wet a little more as they made their way back to where Sue was waiting, but it didn't matter. Sue was smiling at him and had her arms outstretched. 'He had an accident.' Kay announced as they approached Sue. 'Not his fault.' Robin said nothing as the women took one hand each and led Robin into the mall. They passed a couple of people who didn't seem to notice anything amiss, and a young mum with a little girl who stared silently at Robin's soaked pants as the trio walked past. At Kay's suggestion, they found a family bathroom, and Kay stayed with Robin as Sue went to buy him new pants. 'It really was an accident,' repeated Robin after Sue had left. 'I know, honey,' said Kay. 'Sue told me it happens sometimes.' Robin just nodded, and sat quietly. Sue reappeared after a few minutes wirth a shopping bag. 'They're just cheap track pants,' she said. 'But they will do the job. With some new undies,' she added, removing the two items from the bag. 'I've got a better idea,' said Kay, going to the door. 'I won't be long.' 'She's a very good friend, as well as my step-mum,' said Sue after Kay had left. 'I've never lived with her because she married Dad long after I'd left home, but I know she cares about you,' Sue went on. 'Despite what you might think. She cares about both of us.' Robin looked trustingly at Sue. 'I know,' he said, 'I'm sorry I didn't like her.' 'That's OK,' said Sue. 'Let's get those wet jeans off you.' Sue helped Robin out of his jeans, and soon he stood in front of her in his top and underpants. Sue smiled at the modest little bump in his wet undies. Their sex life was infrequent and nothing great when it did happen, but Robin was a great cuddler. He seemed content just to curl up against Sue night after night. It was sweet, Sue thought. Sue didn't know quite what to think of lurid tales of hot, energetic sex. She assumed they were a kind of urban myth. Kay arrived back with a large plastic pack. 'I've got some special pants for you, Robin,' she said. Sue was looking on in surprise. 'What are they?' Robin asked, looking at the package. 'They're special pants just for people like you,' said Kay, opening one side of the pack and pulling out a thick, white, flattish object. 'They help if you have an accident. They keep you dry.' 'Not, not diapers!' said Robin, alarmed. Kay laughed. 'No, honey, they're not diapers,' she assured him. To be continued. abraca-pocus! http://www.upsidedowntext.com/ Heh. Thanks Britnee. I'll now amaze my friends!
  12. Robin's Tale Chapters 1-6

    Thanks Britnee. I must learn how to do those tricks with text!
  13. Robin's Tale Chapters 1-6

    Robin's Tale Chapter 4 It was a short walk across the garden to the separate garage. Kay walked behind Sue and Robin, and smiled as she saw Robin reach out to take Sue's hand, which she automatically held until they got to the garage. Kay wondered why Sue was driving. No one seemed to have discussed it. 'Hop in the back, honey,' Sue told Robin, 'I'd like to talk to Kay.' Robin climbed into the back seat without hesitation, while Kay got in the front. She thought of her own late husbands, neither of whom would ever have thought of getting in the back seat, let alone letting their wives drive them around. Both were mature men, she thought. That was the difference. This poor, beautiful girl, she thought as she looked across at Sue - ran the household, supported it, in fact, and cared for a husband who seemed to need the same parental guidance as a child. Perhaps that was too harsh, she told herself, then listened for a moment to Robin, who was babbling about whether there would be horses in the paddocks they passed on the way into town. 'Shush for a moment, dear,' said Sue, and Robin fell silent. 'Kay, do you need anything special in town?' she asked. 'Oh, just some make-up and a couple of things from the chemist,' Kay said. 'I want to look my best for you,' she added with a laugh. Sue laughed too. She liked Kay, despite her remarks about Robin, She was half right, anyway. Sue did have odd maternal feelings towards Robin. She had since she and Robin first met. She tried to discount them, but they came to the fore occasioallly. Sue thought back to when she and Robin had first met. They'd met at a party, and Robin had dropped her home. Sue wasn't sure what to expect from the young man whose shy manner had attracted her and made her feel safe in suggesting that since they lived close to each other, he could drop her home. It had been a long drive, and Sue couldn't understand why Robin was so reluctant to come in to her house for a cup of coffee. It was only after she had accepted that he wasn't coming in and she put her hand on his thigh as she kissed him goodnight that she felt the wetness there. That's when Robin had told her about his troubles with urinary tract infections, and that on rare occasions he wet his pants after a few drinks if there were no places to stop. The odd bond they'd formed on the basis of that shared personal secret grew into a romance, then a wedding. Both Sue and Robin had had a sheltered upbringing in many ways, and neither was aware that there could be any underlying psychology in their attraction to each other. It took a perceptive but blunt woman like Kay to sense what was going on between the two. To be continued.
  14. Robin's Tale Chapters 1-6

    Robin's Tale Chapter 3 Both women wanted a soft drink, so Robin prepared them and brought them out, then returned to the house. Kay watched him retreat inside. 'He hasn't got much of a package down there,' she observed. 'What do you mean?' asked Sue. 'You know, down there,' Kay said, indicating her crotch, tightly clad in her tan slacks. Sue looked slightly shocked. 'He's OK,' she said, staring at Kay. 'Not much of a lunchbox,' she said. 'More like a light snack.' Sue rolled her eyes and said nothing. 'We'll be leaving for the mall in about 20 minutes,' she said, reminding Kay of their planned trip and changing the subject. 'Better remind Junior,' she said. 'It looks as though he's settling in for an afternoon on the beer,' she added, watching through the kitchen window as Robin got himself another beer. 'He knows,' said Sue, and made a mental note to hurry Robin along. Robin went to the study with his beer and a spare. The time for departure approached, and both women went inside. Sue got her purse, and the two ladies went to the study. 'We'll be leaving for the mall in a few minutes, honey,' said Sue. Robin finished the sentnece he was typing and stood up with a slightly boozy grin, 'Ready now,' he said. 'Let's go.' Sue smiled at Kay, then looked at Robin. 'Have you had a pee?' she asked. 'Ah, right,' said Robin, and disappeared towards the bathroom. 'I think 'MILF' applies to you, Sue,' said Kay, patting Sue on the taut backside if her designer jeans. 'MILF'? queried Sue. 'Mummy I'd like to fuck,' said Kay with a smirk. 'Kay!' said Sue, blushing. 'For a start, I'm not a mummy!' 'Could have fooled me, Sue,' said Kay. 'You wash his wet undies, remind him to have a pee,,,' 'Kay, he sometimes, he forgets and it's a long trip on the freeway, and...' Sue thought of the last time Robin had forgotten to go to the bathroom before a longish trip. He'd wet his pants in tearful, apologetic desperation. 'I thought so,' said Kay. 'He needs to be in pullups. You should have met more men.' 'Pullups?' said Sue. 'Here he comes,' she added. Kay shook her head. 'OK, let's go!' said Robin, and they headed out to Sue's car. To be continued. - Short chapters because I'm writing between phone calls.
  15. Robin's Tale Chapters 1-6

    Robin's Tale Chapter 2 The following day, Robin spent the morning with an editor, which was always a stressful process for him. He disliked having his words changed, and on this occasion he had been kept waiting over an hour until the editor could see him. Robin had to wait. He took it as yet another expression by someone of their greater power. It sometimes occurred to Robin that life would be easier if he really were powerless, like a child. Then he wouldn't go through this awful stress of wondering why he was always the one to accommodate everyone else's wishes. He had tacitly accepted Sue's role as decision maker in their marriage and found his position quite comfortable, although he'd never openly admit it. There had been other writers waiting to see the editor as well while Robin was sitting in the little ante-room, and he hadn't wanted to lose his place in the queue by visting the bathroom on the next floor. As a result, he had felt himself dampening his pants a little. Fortunately, his interview was short, and he had rushed to the bathroom immediately afterwards. He was glad he'd been wearing dark pants, because the damage was a little worse than usual. His crotch was wet as well as his underpants. At least the pants only needed washing, not dry cleaning. He changed as soon as he got home, throwing his pants and underpants into the washing basket. He knew Sue would be understanding; she'd seen it before, he thought. 'What was wrong with the pants you came home in?' asked Kay as Robin joined the two women on the patio looking over the garden. Sue glanced at Robin. 'Uh, too hot,' replied Robin, sitting down on a chair between the women. 'So you put jeans on?' continued Kay. 'Yep,' said Robin. 'I've just remembered something,' he added, standing up and going back into the house. He hated being quizzed by Kay. She always seemed to have some ulterior motive. 'More stained undies, I'd say,' said Kay, looking at Sue. 'None of your business,' said Sue shortly. Robin went to the fridge, found a can of beer and chugged it in annoyance at Kay's remark. Then he opened another can, took a mouthful and went to the outside door. 'Drink, anyone?' he called. To be continued
  16. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    'Foo' is the name for the dopey-looking grafitti figure of a face peering over a wall or fence with hands either side. All you can see is the top of the head, the eyes and nose and the fingers either side. Try googling 'Foo was here' images. Maybe it's not that well-known!
  17. Bad Husband, Better Baby

    Thanks, Elfy!
  18. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    Thanks for the comment. I'm not trying to go down the underage sex path. She's really 23 after all!
  19. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    Little Annie Chapter 10 Ann sat in the bath, letting Cally's big hands spread soapy water over her. It was lovely, like a warm, wet massage. She was having an easy time physically, but a difficult time in her head. When she stopped simply enjoying the sensation of being gently washed and rubbed, she found herself torn between two opposing thoughts: on one hand that she needed this looking after; she had more or less mentally collapsed again as she knew she had when Cally put the cake on the table, and she needed to be taken care of so that she didn't stay a blubbering mess. On the other hand, she was 23 years old, an independent woman, and she should not be letting this maternal lady undress her and treat her like a child in the way she was now. She was an adult. Everything about her was adult. But as she told herself how mature she was, a little voice in her head spoke up. 'Not quite,' it said. Ann knew what the little voice was referring to. She still wet her bed, 21 years after her mother had so gruesomely died. And she wet her pants. And it was getting worse. It shouldn't matter, she told herself in her internal debate. It's just like wearing glasses, she said to herself. 'Is it?' came the little voice. 'What about Tigger? You really talk to him, don't you? And you like playing with dolls when you can, and you like brightly coloured clothing but you won't wear it, and you don't like alcohol, and you suck your thumb sometimes, and what about your wish last birthday, and you did want to call this lady mummy, didn't you? Why don't you add it all up then think how adult you are?' 'No!' said Ann. 'No what, honey?' asked Cally. Ann sat still for a moment. 'Nothing,' she said. 'I was just thinking.' Cally smiled. 'Don't think, baby,' she said soothingly. 'Just relax. Enjoy your bathtime.' Ann smiled too, and leant back as Cally's hands rubbed her tummy. 'Bathtime,' she thought. She remembered her mummy talking about bathtime. So bathtime had to be OK. And this was real. The little voice in her head wasn't real. 'Cally,' Ann said, looking up at Cally's face. 'Do you ever have funny thoughts?' 'Like what, baby?' asked Cally. 'Like thinking you shouldn't like something. Like a little voice saying you shouldn't like things?' Ann said quietly. Callly stopped her soaping and rubbing. She squatted next to the bath, and kissed Ann on the cheek. 'What things, Ann?' she asked. 'Bathtime,' said Ann seriously 'Being looked after like this.' Cally laughed. 'Oh, that little voice,' she said. 'That's the voice of self denial. It's like a guilty conscience, except you haven't done anything wrong. Every well brought up girl, and everybody, really, has that. Sometimes, honey, things happen because you need them, and that's why you want them. Like being looked after. Your daddy did the best he could for you, but he couldn't really take care of you like your mummy would have, could he? That sort of caring stopped when your mummy was gone, didn't it?' Ann leaned over and pressed her face into Cally's arm. Cally sat quietly for a few moments, then Ann looked up at her. Cally's heart went out to the poor little soul who looked up at her, blinking back tears. 'Oh, Ann darling,' she said, kissing the girl. 'Sometimes, we want what we need. Just relax honey, and let life happen to you. That's what Ada says, and she's right. It works if you're in the right place with the right people, and you're here with us now, baby. We have the care you want. I know it's only been a short time, but I know we have the love you want, Annie.' Cally felt Ann relax completely. In her head, Ann felt the little voice give up and fall silent. Two words, love and Annie, which Ann hadn't heard since her mother used them, had banished the sceptical little voice. She had always been Ann to her rather formal father, but she was Annie to her mummy, and to this lovely new person as well. She knew she was in the right place, with the right people. She could relax, totally. Cally smiled as she watched Ann overcome her conflicts. The girl smiled and closed her eyes, and Cally wasn't surprised to see a small yellow plume of pee curling into the bath water from Annie's loins. Ann seemed oblivious. Cally used the sponge to wash the last of the soap from Ann. 'Come on, baby,' she said. 'Time to get dressed.' she put her arms around Ann's small frame and lifted her from the bath. She kissed her again and carried her to the bedroom, where she lay the girl on the bed. Ann hadn't opened her eyes since she'd closed them in the bath. 'Happy, baby?' asked Cally with another kiss. 'Mmm,' murmured Ann. 'Very.' Ada came in, drinking a cup of coffee. 'All clean?' she asked, putting down her coffee and sitting on the bed next to Ann. 'Yes, thanks,' said Ann, opening her eyes. 'I'll do that,' said Ada, taking the towel from Cally. Ada finished drying Ann, turning her over on the bed then turning her face up again. 'There you are,' she said. 'All warm and dry.' Ada leaned over suddenly and blew a long raspberry on Ann's chubby tummy. Ann squealed and giggled. Ada didn't let up, and soon Ann was crying again, with tears of tickled happiness. Ada finished her routine with a barrage of kisses, moving up and down Ann's torso from her breasts to her pubis. It didn't matter, thought Ann as she felt the lovely tingling gonfrom her skin to deep inside her. She wanted this because she needed it. Actually, she wasn't sure what she wanted, but this was pretty close to whatever it was. She found herself reaching up for Ada's big breasts which filled the space above her. Ada sat on the bed, and put one hand behind Ann's back, lifting her so that she lay across her lap. Eyes shut again, Ann kissed her wonderful breasts. They were so soft. Ann couldn't help her kisses turning into something else, and she felt a oft buzz through her body as her lips closed around one of Ada's big, brown teats. Ann felt weightless and euphoric. She thought she heard music,mand felt the room spin around her and Ada. Then it was over. She was back in the world. Cally was standing next to her. 'First leg, honey,' she was saying. Ann watched as Cally pulled first one leg of her new pants then the other over her feet and up her legs. She didn't know what she'd been worrying about. They were very pretty pants, with pictures on them. Ann could feel that they had a bit of padding in them, but so did her combination of pads and panties. But these were all in one. 'If you do have a little leak,' Cally was saying, 'Either let us know or we'll check you, and then we can put you in a new pair. No more pads, sweetie, and no more awful stretchy fat lady pants!' 'And,' said Cally, tugging the training pants high and snug up Ann's waist, I bought you some proper pants to wear. You can still wear your skirts, but now you have a choice, and here's a start! Top first,' said Cally, 'Arms up!' Cally slid a new bright pink t-shirt over Ann's upstretched arms. Ann would normally have flinched at such a colour, but now it made her feel happy. 'Pink,' she said with a giggle. 'That's right, honey,' said Cally. 'Now these, honey.' Ann stuck her legs out while Cally put them into the legs of a bright yellow corduroy shortall. 'You can go barefoot for the time being, honey,' said Cally. 'Just relax.' 'Relax,' thought Ann as she watched herself in the mirror. She hadn't felt so relaxed in years, nor had she felt the random pulls and tugs of a shortall. Her panties were super comfortable, so was her top,and her new pants. She was so lucky. She went to each of the women in turn and gave them the biggest hug. 'Well,' said Cally, lets go and sit where it's cosy in front of the fire,' said Cally. 'And Annie, here's someone we can't forget.' 'Who?' asked Ann. 'Tigger!' said Cally, producing Tigger from behind her back. 'Oh, thank you!' said Ann, and gave her another hug. She looked at Tigger. 'You fixed his eye!' she squealed. 'He got sick of squinting,' said Ada. Ann giggled. She felt a tiny leak, but it didn't matter now. She was being looked after. To be continued.
  20. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    Little Annie Chapter 9 Cally and Ada were in the kitchen. 'Well,' said Cally. 'What do you think, Ade?' Cally had put down the bag containing Ann's new underwear and was helping Ada make lunch. 'She's certainly physically perfect,' replied Ada. 'Mentally too. As I said, all that swagger, if swagger's the right word for such a little lady, is just front. I think deep down, she wants a mummy. It's easy enough to break through her 'mature woman' defences. Underneath is a little girl who struggles to keep her panties dry.' 'Not so deep down,' said Cally with a smile. 'She's pretty upfront about her Tigger. And it's hard to be the big grown up when you wet the bed, and your pants!' 'Plus she's cute,' said Ada. 'The way she adjusts that ridiculous bra around her little chest when she thinks no one is watching. A bra was the last thing I wanted to wear when I was growing up.' She paused, stroking one of her tanned breasts. 'It still is,' she added with a giggle. Cally looked out of the window. 'Speak of the little cherub,' she said. 'Here she comes. Good grief, what does she look like?' Ada peered through the window. 'All she needs is a string of pearls!'' she said, watching Ann stride towards the back door. Soon enough the door opened. 'Hullo,' said Ann politely. 'Well, well,' said Cally. 'Are you selling insurance, or real estate?' 'Neither,' replied Ann seriously. 'I'm simply properly dressed.' She looked at calmly at Ada. 'To each her own,' Ada laughed, and with an exaggerated flourish, executed a low, naked bow towards Ann. 'Madam.' 'I usually dress properly,' Ann stated defiantly. 'It shows respect for myself and for others.' She looked again at Ada. 'Don't look at me,' said Ada. 'I'm not the one who's playing dressup.' 'I'm not playing,' retorted Ann. 'Just because I'm not dressed like a kid on holidays doesn't mean I'm playing anything. These are my work clothes.' 'Me too,' said Ada. 'Freshly trimmed' she added, running her fingers through the heart-shaped thatch between her legs. 'Well I think it's bizarre,' said Ann matter of factly. 'Why?' asked Ada. 'I've had a diamond, and a spade. The club was too fiddly, but the heart is good.' She continued to stroke her crotch. 'I didn't mean that,' said Ann crossly. 'I meant going around naked at all. Why do you do it?' 'I was born this way,' said Ada sweetly. 'Just like, well I assume just like you were born wetting your pants.' Ann looked angry. 'Ada, you have no right to speak to me that way. It's unprofessional and in fact it's probably harassment. If...' Ann stopped in mid sentence, and looked panicked. She turned towards the door into the hallway, and headed quickly towards it. Cally stepped in her way. 'Cally, no...' said Ann, trying to push the woman out of her way. 'Ann, Ada had no right... ' began Cally, but was interrupted by the sound of liquid hitting the polished timber floor. Ann's push turned to a desperate hug, her arms wrapped around Cally's torso. 'I was really trying...' Ann sobbed. Cally held Ann close. 'I know, honey, I know,' she said consolingly. Ann continued to sob. There was no trace of the dignified littel woman who had walked through the door. 'We understand,' said Cally. 'Ada understands too, and she's sorry, aren't you Ade?' Cally tipped Ann's head up a little and kissed the top of it. 'Ann, we care about you,' she said. Ann seemed lost in her misery. The flow to the floor quickly slowed to a trickle, then stopped altogether. 'I was trying,' she repeated, her sobbing voice muffled against Cally's warm midriff. 'Of course you were, honey' Cally said. 'Come with me.' With Ann in one arm, Cally picked up the package she had left on the table, and headed for the bedroom. Ann's mature bravado had vanished as she stood quietly in front of Cally who was seated on the bed. 'Hey,' Cally said, pushing a wet strand of Ann's hair from her face. 'It's nothing to worry about. Wet pants aren't the end of the world, Ann honey. It happens to lots of people. I've wet my pants too, did you know that? And I really am a grown up woman.' Ann stopped sniffling and looked at Cally questioningly. 'That's right, sweetie. I was on the freeway, going to a meeting. The traffic was so slow, and I held on as long as I could, but I just had to go. I was all dressed up too, just like you, and I had to come home and change, and then I was late,' Cally told her with a smile. Ann did her best to smile back. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered. 'No need to be sorry, honey.' said Cally. 'Now. lets get you out of these things.' Cally lifted the front of Ann's satin lined skirt. Her stretchy briefs were dark with pee, and so were the inside legs of her pantyhose. The edges of Ann's carefully placed pad peeked wet and forlorn from the hems of her panties. 'Panytyhose,' said Cally. 'You are dressed up, aren't you sweetie?' Ann nodded, and wiped her eyes. 'I'm sorry,' she said again. 'Oh, shush,' said Cally with a laugh. 'There's nothing to be sorry about. Now you just relax, and let Cally take care of you. I'll be mummy for now, OK?' Ann smiled bravely, and nodded. Cally continued undressing her. Ann offered her each foot in turn, and Cally removed her shoes and put them to one side. Then she pulled down Ann's wet pantyhose and her soaked briefs. She unbuttoned and removed Ann's blouse and reached around behind her to unclip her bra. As she took took it off, Ann put her little hands up to cover her chest. 'Hey,' said Cally, gently pushing Ann's hands away. 'I'm mummy, remember?' Ann nodded, and lowered her hands.Cally leaned forward to give Ann a big kiss on the forehead. Cally watched Ann begin to smile. 'What do you say, honey?' prompted Cally. 'Thank you...mummy,' said Ann. 'That's better,' said Cally. 'Now, we have to get you nice and fresh and clean. Shower or bath? There's plenty of time. Your choice.' 'Bath please,' said Ann with a grin, hugging the seated Cally again. 'OK, my little water baby, bath it is. Off we go!' said Cally, disentangling herself from Ann's arms and leading the girl to the bathroom. To be continued.
  21. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    Little Annie Chapter 8 After cleaning up the breakfast dishes, Ann made her way to her flat. She changed out of her brief tennis skirt, and had a shower, carefully conducting the leg and crotch shave she had been postponing. After her shower, she was pleased to find that her stock of control briefs and pads were still in their place. She had half expected Cally to have removed them. Ann carefully arranged a pad in the crotch of a fresh pair of control briefs. It's a perfectly good system, she thought, as long as she kept an eye on things. She ran her fingers over the shiny, taut front of her briefs, and put on a bra, making sure the padding was perfectly in place. She added a nice white blouse, then stepped into one of her designer skirts. She decided on some makeup, and spent some time sitting in front of the mirror applying it. Then she tidied her hair and found a pair of pretty earrings, and after a moment's thought, pulled on a pair of pantyhose and elegant black court shoes. After a final check in the mirror, she was satisfied with her appearance. Properly dressed, she felt that she had put the uncomfortable events of the previous day well behind her. She was the new live-in employee, and would start again on a decent footing. Except for the training pants, she remembered, but she would deal with that and with Cally. And her naked friend, she smiled to herself. But there was nothing that she couldn't handle. Before she returned to the house, Ann spent some time stripping her bed and fitting the waterproof undersheet to the mattress. As she always did, she tried to separate herself from the reason she was putting the cover on the mattress. She was merely attending to a minor medical issue she had, she would tell herself, as she did when replacing the pads in her panties. Even the doctor had agreed with that attitude. 'Some people wear glasses or a hearing aid, or use a stick,' the doctor had told Ann. She just needed a little help with a similar but different problem. No big deal. Ann remade the bed, painted her nails then settled down on the bed with a book. She usually read with Tigger next to her, and remembered that he was still sitting in the bedroom in the house. She reminded herself to collect him. Some time later, heard Cally's car arrive. She rolled her eyes at the thought of having to deal with Cally and the infamous new underpants. She would put Cally straight soon enough. Despite the fracas the previous day, everything was under control. Ann kept reading. It was approaching lunchtime when Ann walked across the lawn to the kitchen door full of confidence in herself as a mature young woman. To be continued (apologies for brevity).
  22. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    Trading pants - you swap them for training pants! : )
  23. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    Little Annie Chapter 7 Ann got up and had a shower. She had to put off shaving yet again. She hadn't been ordered to get up since she was in boarding school, and grumpily dried herself and picked up the skirt Cally had got from her flat for her. Great, she thought. Instead of one of her nice woollen designer skirts, Cally had made the worst possible choice - a short pleated skirt Ann wore for playing tennis in the summer. Not only was it not very warm; it was short, and no, thought Ann picking up a vest and the blouse Cally had left for her, no undies and no bra either. How did Cally expect her to get dressed without half her clothes? And socks and sneakers? Oh well, thought Ann, she could get properly dressed before she had breakfast. She pulled on the vest and inspected her boyish chest in the mirror. It was cool, and about the only things that made her look female were her two little nipples pushing against the cotton vest. Ann thought of Cally's boobs again, and of Ada's respectable pair which she'd seen so well displayed earlier. She came a very poor last in that company, she thought unhappily. Putting her blouse on didn't help much. The material was thin, and her vest was clearly visible beneath it, just as a bra wasn't. She stepped into her skirt and pulled that up. It was meant to be worn with acceptably visible tennis knickers, and it was so short that her bare bottom stuck out of it if she even slightly bent over. What are they trying to do, she thought suddenly, remembering that both ladies clearly liked girls. No, she thought guiltily, they're too nice. The short white socks and pink sneakers didn't help the overall effect, as Ann saw in the mirror. The preppy look was gone. She looked like a twelve year old going to the beach. That made her wish she at least had her swimsuit on under the short skirt. Oh well, she thought. She was hungry and she could smell bacon. She headed for her flat via the kitchen. 'Ah! Here's our baby!' Cally said cheerfully as Ann entered the kitchen. 'Good morning,' Ann said. 'Thank you for looking after me last night. I'm sorry about all the fuss.' 'Not at all,' said Ada. Ada was still undressed. At least Cally had jeans and a sweater on. 'Our pleasure,' said Cally with a smile. 'Where are you off to?' she added as Ann reached the back door. 'To get the rest of my clothes,' she said, opening the door. Cally stepped over and closed it again. 'You're dressed very nicely,' she said. 'You can go to your flat after breakfast, and I think Ada told you I'll be buying you some pants in town this morning. 'I don't need more pants'' objected Ann. 'And I want a warmer skirt, and a bra.' 'A bra?' Cally asked. 'Ann, please sit down and have your breakfast. I have some things to say to you as well.' Ada had pulled back a chair for Ann and Cally put her hand behind Ann's back and ushered her to it. Ann was about to remove the cushion from the seat of the chair when Cally put her hand on it. 'No, Ann, the cushion stays please. We want to see you while we're having a meal with you,' she said. 'You looked like Foo yesterday,' said Ada with a giggle. Ann shot her what she hoped was a filthy look, but sat down. Relations with Cally and Ada had been so warm, that even Ann's habitual quick tongue was silent. She didn't get much of that sort of warmth and didn't want to risk losing it. She sat up on the cushion, thinking that it was nice to be able to rest her elbows on the table for once. She could feel the coarse hippy tapestry stitching of the cushion against her bare behind. 'Good,' said Cally. 'Now, it's scrambled eggs and bacon. Would you like tomato as well?' it smelled delicious. 'Yes thanks,' said Ann. She was happy to be eating such a good breakfast, but she was still annoyed at being told what to do. Cally served up the breakfasts, and the two women sat down. Apparently it was quite normal for Ada to be innher naturalmstate like this. They're still hippies, thought Ann. The food was as good as it smelled, and Ann enjoyed a few mouthfuls. She wondered what Cally had to say. 'What do you want to talk to me about?' she asked. 'Your underwear, Ann,' said Cally, looking straight at her. Ann groaned. 'Cally,' she began. 'No, Ann,' Cally interrupted her. 'I want you to listen.' Ann took a deep, very audible breath and looked down with great interest at her breakfast. 'Ann, I know you're doing your best with your pads and those briefs, and I imagine you are trying to manage your nighttime wetting as well.' Ann looked up at Cally, her eyes widening slightly. 'I thought so,' Cally continued. 'We are your employers, and your landladies as well, but we also care about you, even given the little we know of you so far. While we don't have children of our own we both know enough about children...' 'I'm not a child!' Ann interrupted angrily. '...children and younger people to know a little about problems like yours,' Cally continued. 'We're not just farmers. Both Ada and I have worked with young people and, well for a start, I know there are better ways of handling your daytime issues. So that you can wear pants as well as skirts and dresses, for example.' 'Do we have to talk about this?' said Ann angrily. 'I mean it's personal. I hardly know you.' 'Ann, please,' said Cally calmly. 'Who do you know that you can talk to about it?' Ann could feel her blood rising. It was personal, but Cally was right. There was no one else she could talk to. Ann had even lied, out of shame, to her doctor. She had told her it was getting better, and had even worn thin cotton panties to her last checkup as proof. Then she'd soaked her underwear. in the car park as soon as she left the doctor's rooms. The truth was, she was leaking more now than she ever had, and sometimes she didn't even feel it until it had happened. Ann was angry, but she also had a faint hope that Cally might have some magical answer for her problem. 'Would you rather not talk about this now?' Cally asked, hoping her reading of Ann's face was correct and that the timing was right for Ann to approve going further with this. 'It's OK,' said Ann quietly. 'Good,' said Cally. 'Now, those briefs you wear and the pads are not the best solution. The pads are not very absorbent if the problem gets worse,' Cally paused, and saw a look of confirmation in Ann's distressed eyes, ' And those control briefs are not made for that. They're for ladies who want their tummies to look smaller than they are.' 'Although you're not exactly waif-like,' interjected Ada, giggling again. 'Shush, please Ada, I'm being serious,' said Cally without looking at her friend. 'We're trying to help Ann.' 'I'm going to town today, Ann, and I'm going to get some special new panties for you,' said Cally,'Nice, fashionable panties that a girl like you can wear, which...' 'You mean training pants!' said Ann, 'Like, like little kids' training pants!' No!' 'Not at all,' said Cally. 'They're not called that. They're called continence garments. That's what your problem is called, Doctors call it a continence problem, don't they?' 'Yes,' said Ann quietly. She had been told that many times, and seen it on her medical forms. She didn't even like saying the words. 'Good,' said Cally. 'That's settled. 'I'm going to town after breakfast. You can stay here with Ada. 'OK,' said Ann uncertainly. 'Where's Tigger, Ann?' Cally asked. Ann brightened up. It was silly, but her much-valued, worn out little tiger was very familiar to her in this strange place, and thinking of him cheered her up. 'He's on the pillow,' Ann said. She didn't add that she had sat him there so he could look around. 'Right,' said Cally. 'I'll strip that bed before I go. I didn't want to wash him accidentally.' 'You might drown him,' said Ada with a grin. Ann and Cally both gave Ada a look. 'I'm sure you had a favourite toy when you were little,' said Cally. 'I've got one now,' said Ada with another grin. 'I'm not little!' objected Ann, feeling more her old self again, while Cally glared at Ada. Ada stood up,and began collecting the breakfast dishes. Ann stood too, to help. She had to tug her short skirt down to a decent length. 'Nuisance, aren't they,' said Ada as she gathered the plates. 'What are?' asked Ann. 'Clothes,' replied Ada. 'I haven't got the body for it,' said Ann as she stacked the plates next to the sink. She wished she had her friend the bra on. 'Maybe when you grow up,' Ada said, wiping the big wooden table. 'I am grown up!' retorted Ann. 'No one's really grown up,' said Ada with a laugh. Ann looked down past her flat chest to her little skirt. She didn't look or feel very grown up next to this big, naked woman. Cally was going to town to buy some sort of training pants for her, and she'd just wet her bed, twice. She didn't feel very grown up. She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around Ada and ask her for a hug. She really was grown up, she told herself. To be continued. '
  24. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    Little Annie Chapter 6 The next morning, Ann woke early. She wasn't happy to find that she'd wet again but, she thought, at least her hosts were expecting that it might happen. Ann rolled to one side of the folded towels, wondering about the events of the previous day. She felt well rested and bright, even if she was in a strange bed which belonged to the only two people who knew her secret. Ann had started wetting the bed again after her mother's untimely death, and had never really grown out of it. She managed the problem by never drinking in the evening and by making sure she went to the bathroom before going to bed. Even so, she had a waterproof mattress protector folded in the bottom of one of her suitcases, although there had been no opportunity to put it on her new bed. Ann had an ongoing issue with daytime leakage too, and she managed that as well in her usual careful manner. Her doctor had diagnosed urge incontinence due to a weak sphincter in her baldder. That had nothing to do with her mother's gruesome death. Just my luck, Ann thought. She avoided wearing pants, and used pads inside control panties. She knew the skirts made her look a bit preppy, but she felt they made her look older and more authoritative as well, so she was quite happy wearing them. If the worst did happen, as it had yesterday, she could usually get away with wet panties under the skirt. She hadn't had much trouble with a boyfriend findng out, because she had still never really had a boyfriend. She didn't have many close female friends either. She knew that most people found her a little prickly, and she liked it that way. She was not in the habit of letting people into her personal life. And here she was, having been undressed and put to bed by two virtual strangers, who also knew about her wetting accidents. Ann was thinking about this when the bedroom door opened and in walked Ada, naked and holding a folded towel. 'Good morning, honey.' she said. 'How are you feeling?' Ann's eyes widened. 'OK,' she said. She was having trouble taking her eyes from Ada's full, naked, tanned body. Ada dropped the towel on the bed. She smiled at Ann. 'I don't wear much around the house,' she said. 'Among friends.' Ann took her eyes from Ada's thick pubic hair which was carefully trimmed in the shape of a heart, and returned her smile. 'I can see that,' she said. Ada wasn't nearly as tall as Cally or as well built, but she was nicely proportioned. Lovely breasts, thought Ann as she watched Ada moving around the room. 'Cally says you're to have a shower before breakfast,' Ada informed her. 'She'll be in to strip the bed after you get up. She's brought you a skirt and a top from your flat. They're in the bathroom. She said she'll get you some more suitable underwear in town this morning. Hers are adult sized, and, well, I don't wear any.' Ann didn't respond well to being told what to do, and felt a little miffed at the control Cally seemed to have assumed over her movements. And she was very particular about her underwear and preferred not to have someone buy it for her. 'I'm an adult,' she said. 'Of course you are, honeybunch,' Ada said breezily. 'Cally's making breakfast. Don't dawdle,' she added and left the room. To be continued.
  25. Little Annie Chapters 1-10

    Little Annie Chapter 5 Ada and Cally settled into the double bed in the second bedroom. 'She's not the tough little customer she thinks she is,' said Cally, snuggling up to her friend. 'Not by a long way,' agreed Ada. 'Ah, your feet are cold!' 'Sorry,' replied Cally, 'What do you think happened to her mother?' 'Died, I'd say, or left,' said Ada. 'Who would leave that little sweetie?' said Cally. 'Mm,' said Ada. 'Maybe she left the father.' 'Wouldn't have thought so, said Cally. 'He sounded pretty good. He brought her up. A good school, and she's got nice manners.' 'Whatever happened to her mum, she's pretty traumatised by it,' said Ada. 'Yeah,' mused Cally. 'I think the cake brought it on.' 'Her mum was killed by a cake, maybe,' said Ada. 'Don't be stupid,' said Cally, deliberately pushing the soles of her feet against Ada's calves. 'Doesn't work,' said Ada. 'They're warm now.' Cally reached out in the darkness with one hand and felt Ada's face. 'Eww!' she said, 'Are you sticking your tongue out?' 'Yep,' giggled Ada. 'Grow up!' said Cally. Ada responded by blowing a loud raspberry on Cally's neck. 'Good night, Ada,' said Cally with finality. Ada propped herself up, gave Cally a big kiss on the ear and turned over to sleep. (There's more to come. This is just a little interlude)