LL Medico Diapers and More Bambino Adult Baby Diapers

SallyKAT

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  1. 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 case on the bed which was full of clothing. 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.
  2. 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.
  3. Thanks, BB! I'm glad you liked it!
  4. Hey, syphon. I've had another idea for a landlady story and I've started work on it. I'll finish and post it when I get through my current work contract. Just thought I'd let you know. Sal.

    1. syphon

      syphon

      Hi Sally, thank you, you are the best at these :)

      Was hoping for some breastfeeding in the young chris story ahahah ;)

      Have a nice day,

    2. SallyKAT

      SallyKAT

      Hi syphon

       

      You'll have to imagine the breastfeeding!

       

      Sal

  5. Thank you, Eagle. I'm glad you liked it. I'll look for your stories. : )
  6. Thanks Britnee! I'm just glad to have finished a story. I have a bit of a reputation for unfinished tales, so this reduces my guilt a little, even if the ending was fairly sweet and loving. Not everyone gets the love and happiness they look for, so writing fiction about someone who does find it even in an odd place can't be a bad thing.
  7. Young Chris in London Chapter 8 Chris walked into the bedroom, holding his towel around himself, as Louise turned on the light. 'Just wait here a moment, Chris,' she said. 'I'll be back in a minute,' Louise left the room, and Chris had a chance to look around. Charlie must have brought the dinosaurs up from the kitchen, because they were now in a red plastic box on the floor near his bed. He assumed they were for him, and felt good that Charlie had bothered to bring them up. There were lots of other things in the room too. After what Louise had told him, he felt OK about being interested in the various toys in the room and the colourful cartoon posters on the wall. They were things he would have liked to have openly at least in his room at home. It felt right to have them around him now. 'Let's get you dressed and warm,' Louise said, entering the room with a handful of items. Chris recognised the thick white nappy she had in one hand. That was for him, of course. He felt OK about that, too. He needed to be diapered, as Louise had explained. All was good. He returned Louise's smile with enthusiasm. 'On the bed, please,' said Louise. 'Towel off.' Chris complied happily. He felt safe in Louise's hands. Life was good. He lay on his back and waited while Louise unfolded spread out the nappy, then without being asked, he positioned himself on it. 'You've had a nappy on before, haven't you honey?' Louise asked. Chris nodded. Of course he had, but since his childhood, no-one had ever put one on him. He closed his eyes and thought how lucky he was. Louise spread Chris's knees apart gently and spinkled his groin with the baby powder she had brought from the other room. 'Chrissie needs a nappy at night, so we have everything we need here,' Louise said, patting the talc around Chris's loins. 'Bottom up, please,' she said, and pulled the nappy up between Chris's legs after gently pushing his penis downwards. 'These are for a girl, but they'll fit you perfectly,' she said, adjusting the nappy and sticking the tapes down. 'There we are. How does that feel?' 'Good,' said Chris as he stood up by the bed. 'There's a plastic sheet on the mattress, but you may not need it,' she said. 'Pete had the occasional accident at night. We'll see how we go. Those are quite absorbent.' Chris turned around, feeling the bulk of the nappy. It was thicker than the Molicare ones he had worn before. On an impulse, he reached his arms up and hugged Louise. 'Hey!' Louise exclaimed. 'I'm just dressing you the way you should be dressed!' She gave Chris an affectionate pat on his still tender bottom. 'Now, we need to find you some pants,' she said, looking critically at Chris's now bulky hips. She went to the chest of drawers, and sorted through a few items of clothing. 'Let's try these,' she said, holding up a pair of track pants. She helped Chris step into the pants, and tugged them up mto his waist. The bulk of the nappy meant that the elasticated waist was too low. 'Hmm,' she said. 'No.' Louise removed the pants, and stood looking at Chris for a moment. 'Just the thing,' she said. 'I'll be back in a minute.' She left the room and returned a few minutes later with a folded garment in bright yellow corduroy. 'Chrissie is a bit chubbier than Pete, and I think these will have the room you need. They're for a girl, but it hardly matters with you, sweetie. You'll look adorable,' she said. They went through the dressing motions again with one of Chrissie's shortalls this time. As Louise tightened the straps, Chris felt the same upward pull between his legs. He looked at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers across the stitching of the fake fly on the front. Louise watched him and smiled. 'You don't need a fly now, Chris, do you?' she asked. 'No,' said Chris slowly. Louise helped him with a plain white t-shirt, and when she had finished dressing him and brushed his freshly washed hair, he looked at himself again in the wardrobe mirror. He was both shocked and thrilled by what he saw. His blond hair had lost its wayward appearance, and fell neatly to his shoulders as a golden frame either side of the fine, smooth features of his face. The yellow bib covering his chest had two white appliqué daisies on it, and below the stitched band high above his waist the corduroy curved down over his tummy into a gently mounded vee between his legs. Anyone would take him for a nicely dressed pre-teen girl, though quite obviously still in nappies. Louise was pleased with her work as she smiled at Chris. 'Do you know what you look like, honey?' she asked. 'No,' said Chris uncertainly. 'Like someone cares about you,' Louise replied with a grin. Chris bit his lip. He couldn't stop the silent tears that ran down his cheeks. 'Oh, honey,' said Louise, and gave him a hug. 'Let's see what Charlie thinks of you.' Louise turned to the still open door. 'Charlie!' she called. 'Now you can come and meet our new boarder!' A few moments later, Charlie entered the room. 'Charlie, this is Chris, our new boarder,' Louise said with mock ceremony. 'Chris, say hello to Auntie Charlie.' Chris was quite happy to do what he was told by an adult. 'Hello ,' he said, smiling at Charlie. 'I'n very pleased to meet you, Chris,' said Charlie, with a little bow. 'I'm pleased to meet you too, Auntie Charlie,' replied Chris. He felt his nappy becoming warm and realised he was peeing. He had felt that warmth before, but it had never felt so natural and normal. He felt happier than he had for years. 'Well, it's time for dinner,' Louise said. 'Let's go downstairs.' Charlie led the way, and Chris went after her. He took Louise's hand at the bottom of the stairs, and breathed in the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen. He could feel himself waddling slightly in the thick, damp nappy, but that was how he walked now. Everything was OK. He was home at last. The end. There may be a sequel to this, but I have some work to do over the next few weeks, and I wanted to actually finish a story! Sal XX
  8. He is indeed. I've changed the last chapter a bit, deleting the bit about Chrissie's clothes. It was moving a little too fast, I thought. There's plenty of time for that sort of thing later. Chris has enough to deal with at present!
  9. Young Chris in London Chapter 7 The shock and shame of the last few minutes were too much for Chris. Louise was right. He didn't feel grown up at all. He really was just a little boy who needed to be in a nappy. As if to emphasise the point, his body seemed to take over. Louise had stood Chris in the middle of the bathroom and as she was undoing his shoulder straps his bladder, still under pressure, gave way completely. With a loud sob followed by a torrent of tears, the remaining contents of Chris's bladder flooded his undies and shortall and poured in rivulets down his legs onto the bathroom's nylon carpet. Louise stood back in surprise, and folded her arms as the flood slowed to a trickle and finally stopped. 'Well,' said Louise. 'Are you finished?' Chris nodded without raising his head. Louise found a spare bath mat and pushing Chris aside, dropped it onto the floor to soak up at least some of the mess. She took Chris by his shoulder and marched him over to a cheval mirror near the pedestalled handbasin. She tilted the mirror downwards slightly to accomodate Chris's short stature and held him in front of the glass. She lifted his chin so that he was looking directly at his reflection. 'I want you to look at that little boy in the mirror for a few minutes, Chris, and think about who you see there. Is it Chris from New Zealand on his cultural tour, or is it naughty little boy called Chris, who wets his pants and only pretends to be a big boy, but really needs to be wearing a nappy?' Chris said nothing. Louise was right. The boy in the mirror clutching the plastic dinosaur clearly wasn't an adult. He wasn't even a big boy. He was exactly who Louise said he was, a little boy who had wet his pants and should have been in a nappy. He didn't feel like he did when he played his baby roles alone in his room at home. This was real. He really had wet his pants, in someone else's house in another country, in front of people he didn't really know. He didn't dare breath a word of being even interested in age play at home, and here he was, quite openly behaving like an infant, in front of virtual strangers. This felt so different. He didn't want an orgasm - the usual goal of his experiments at home - that didn't matter. Now, he most wanted forgiveness, and affection. He dropped his dinosaur and turned to the obvious source of warmth and affection. Louise didn't respond as Chris tried to fling his arms around her. 'No,' she said firmly, easily pushing Chris away. She forced Chris's arms down and continued to undo his straps. It took a few minutes, but she managed to get Chris out of his wet clothes, which she tossed aside in disgust alongside the discarded dinosaur toy. She picked Chris up with no trouble at all and seated his bare bottom on the cold edge of the bathtub, before turning on the taps and adjusting them. 'You,' she said, emphasising the word, 'Are a very naughty little boy. Not only have you just wet your pants, but every pair of your undies I found in your bag had nasty wetting stains on them. I threw them out. It's very obvious that you're not ready for big boy underpants. You just pretend to be a big boy, don't you?' Her words hit Chris like daggers. This wasn't fantasy, it was real. What if he really was pretending, as Louise said, and didn't realise it? Could that happen? Louise interrupted his thoughts. 'Before you get in the bath,' she said severely, 'We have to deal with your behaviour. Little boys do not wet their clothes and rugs in this house. That's what nappies are for. Do you understand that?' Chris nodded. He thought Louise was lovely and gentle, but now he began to feel afraid. Louise sat on the bath rim next to him and bodily swivelled him over her lap. The spanking that followed was short and sharp. Chris had fantasised about being spanked, but the reality was different. It hurt, and he began to cry after the first few spanks. (There you go, Eagle!) Louise explained firmly as she spanked him that actions had consequences, and that his actions were inconsiderate and wrong. In a word, she said, naughty. His position in this house, Louise said, did not allow him to just do what he wanted wherever he wanted. She said he would soon learn his 'place'. Then it was over. Chris understood and accepted what Louise had told him. After all, he was supposed to behave himself while they were out, like anyone else would, but instead he had peed hie pants and made a mess of the rug. He knew he deserved what he got. It could have been far worse. They could have thrown him out. As Louise had said, he was lucky they didn't. Louise's anger passed like a summer storm, and soon she had Chris in the bath. 'You know,' said Louise as she began to soap his naked body with a washcloth, 'I know a little about people's fantasies. Sometimes, a young man like you might have it in his head that he'd like to wear nappies, and even be treated like a baby. The young man is really grown up, and he invents the fantasy, for one reason or another. He creates the baby 'persona', it's called. It makes him happy, so he does it when he can. He might even seek out some help with his fantasy - maybe a sort of mummy to look after him, or a little friend he can play with. Louise began to soap Chris's groin. 'But sometimes, not very often, the young man isn't really grown up at all. Deep down inside, he doesn't really get past being very little. So to get by in the world, he creates a grown up boy. The grown up boy can do all sorts of things, but it's really pretending. When he thinks about being very little, it's not the grown up boy trying to be an infant, it's the little boy inside just trying to be who he really is.' Louise was gently soaping Chris's genitals as she finished her piece of pseudo-psychology. She had made a few informed guesses, and could see that her little speech had hit home with Chris. Chris was too overwhelmed to feel aroused. A trickle of pee ran from his soft penis onto Louise's soapy fingers. She smiled. 'I think you know you need to be in a nappy, don't you Chrissie?' she said quietly. Chris nodded. It was so obvious Louise was right. That's why this felt so real. It was real. This is who he was. Grown up Chris was just pretend. Louise leaned into the bath and hugged the wet little boy. She could feel his body relax as she held him. 'Now,' she said, 'You just sit there, baby, and I'll finish getting you all nice and clean.' Chris sat quietly in the bath as Louise took a small tube from a cupboard. 'This will sting a bit, but it will wash off in a few minutes, and you'll be all nice and fresh and soft like you should be, OK?' she said, helping Chris up from the shallow water and turning him to face her. Chris flinched as Louise applied some ointment from the tube to his groin and armpits, then told him to shut his mouth tightly while she rubbed his face. Chris moaned a little, but kept his mouth shut. He trusted Louise totally. After all, she knew his deepest thoughts. She knew who he really was. No one had ever known that. Not even Chris himself. Ten tingling minutes later, Chris felt like a new person. His skin felt wonderfully alive. He put his hands to his genitals, as he often did in the shower at home, and felt nothing but soft skin around them. The light hairs that had been there were completely gone. He wondered if Louise had performed some sort of magic on him. Louise dried him off, and kissed the top of his head. 'Let's get you some clothes,' Louise said. 'And what do you need to wear under your clothes, first of all?' 'Nappy,' said Chris softly. 'Good boy!' said Louise happily. She led Chris out of the bathroom into the passage, where they bumped into Charlie who was on her way to the master bedroom. Charlie looked down at Chris who was wrapped in a towel and clutching Louise's hand. 'Hullo sweetie,' she said with a smile. 'Hullo,' said Chris shyly. Louise opened the door to Pete's room and let Chris in first. To be continued.
  10. Young Chris in London Chapter 6 Chris did what generations of children have done when they find themselves in deep trouble with no way out. He froze. He tried to make himself look as small and inconspicuous as possible, sitting in his soaked shortall in the middle of the rug. He glanced down in horror at the wet patch, and shifted his bottom to try to sit directly on top of it. That was Plan A. There was no Plan B. The front door closed, and Chris heard two voices - Louise's chatty tones and then a deeper voice. His mind whirled. He thought Louise had said Charlie was female. Was he wrong about that? Was Charlie a man, who would think Chris was as pathetic as he now felt? Chris swallowed hard, and gulped back the beginning of tears. 'And this is our new boarder, Chris, all the way from New Zealand!' Louise announced as she walked into the room, followed by a tall person who stood just out of the light. Chris stared downwards, focusing on the 'roadway' he had minutes before been happily pushing a truck along. He glanced up again, to see Louise standing stock still. The other person was a woman, even taller than Louise. She had a briefcase in her hand and wore a large, floppy hat. Chris stared at the floor again. 'Chris!' Louise almost shouted. 'Stand up immediately!' 'It's all right, Lou.' said the other woman in her low voice. 'He doesn't need to...' Both women stood still now. 'Chris, get up now, please.' said Louise quietly. Chris's only response was to sniffle and let out a couple of sobs. Louise stepped forward and taking his hand, helped Chris up. He offered no resistance. He stood in his tight, wet shortall, burning with shame, and answered the unasked question. 'I, I had an accident,' he managed, before sobbing again. 'We can see that,' Louise said. She leaned forward and reached down to feel the wet back of Chris's clothing. 'Well, you're just wet. It could be worse,' she said. 'Just wet. Accident,' Chris repeated pointlessly. 'And the rug too,' said Louise. 'We'll just have to change you again.' 'Is he wearing...' begain the tall woman. 'No, just a pair of Pete's undies and overalls,' replied Louise. 'But I think we'll have to reconsider that. Come on, stop crying.' Louise took Chris firmly by the hand and stood him in front of the other woman. Chris looked up at the woman in the hat and blinked though his tears. 'Christopher,' Louise said, 'This is Charlie. She was expecting to meet a very grown up boy, but it doesn't look as though she is meeting him at all. Just a little boy who by the looks of him needs to be in a nappy, doesn't he?' This was awful. The worst, thought Chris. His head was spinning. He couldn't take his eyes off the woman who seemed to tower over him. She was smiling at him, which made it more incomprehensibly bad and embarrassing. 'I worked in a library, in New Zealand,' he said, and immediately realised how stupid that sounded. 'Did you dear?' asked Charlie. 'Were you playing with Pete's lizards?' she added, bending to retrieve a stray velociraptor from under the front of the sofa. Chris nodded. 'Here you are,' Charlie said kindly, handing Chris the toy. He took it with a trembling hand. 'No real harm,' said Charlie. 'The rug can be cleaned up.' Chris felt a little less miserable as he realised that the sky wasn't going to fall. He stopped crying and looked at Charlie. Louise was tall, but Charlie was even taller, and solidly built. She was wearing a mannishly cut suit in a warm honey colour. Her large breasts pushed out her white shirt and the tie she wore between them. Chris looked down to see her tight pants. She was certainly didn't look like a man below her dark brown belt. TYhe swell of her rounded tummy and pronounced womanly shape looked almost aggressively female given the cut of her clothing, the tie and the brown fedora which she was now removing to reveal short, neatly cut brown hair. Chris couldn't help watching the way her tightly clad, feminine crotch moved as she leant over to put her hat on the sofa. If he'd been aware of the term 'cameltoe' he would have thought of it then. Everything about Charlie was large and intimidating. Chris backed away slightly as Charlie approached him. Chris was 5 feet 2 and a quarter inches tall. and weighed 61 kilos, and Charlie looked huge. 'It's OK honey,' said Charlie. 'I won't eat you. How about a hug to make things better?' 'Charlie...' Louise said. 'It's OK, Lou,' said Charlie, gently taking Chris's hand from Louise's grasp. 'Come here, baby.' Chris stepped uncertainly towards Charlie, who leaned down and almost picked Chris up from the floor. Chris returned her hug with enthusiasm. It was better than thinking about his wet pants. Then everything welled up inside him and he found himself crying again as he buried his head between Charlie's large, soft breasts. He did his best to stop, and after half a minute or so, he looked up at Charlie. 'That's better, honey.' said Charlie as Chris blinked at her though tearful eyes. 'Now, I expect Louise would like to get you cleaned up, and have a few words with you about hygiene. We're going to have to do something about your accidents.' 'Just one,' Chris said defensively. He was feeling as though he were back in the real world a little more now. 'We'll see,' said Charlie. 'Off you go!' Charlie gave his wet bottom a light smack as Louise escorted him out of the room. 'Louise,' Chris said as they mounted the stairs. 'Shush,' Louise cut him off. 'I'm still cross with you even if she's not. What you did was very naughty. If you couldn't help it, you should have told me that you still wet your pants. We need to have a serious talk, young man.' Chris felt the tears coming again as Louise led him into the bathroom. To be continued.
  11. My thoughts exactly, Eagle!
  12. Young Chris in London Chapter 5 There wasn't much on the TV, and the CDs were either boring sounding documentaries or cartoons. Chris sat for a while, then remembered the trucks and dinosaurs.He decided that a bit of time with them was his most interesting option. He knew something about trucks, and dinosaurs too. Big picture books about both were popular in the library where Chris had worked, and he had read most of the ones there. He felt slightly guilty about wanting to look at them, but wondered what sort of dinosaurs there would be. He could put them back where they were after he had finished, and no-one would know he had them out. It didn't take long to get the collection into the sitting room on the large Perisan rug on the floor. the patterns on the rug made good roadways for the trucks, and Chris was imagining a kind of Jurassic Park with dinosaur transport. He was a little shy at first, but then began adding sound effects for the trucks and roars for the dinosaurs. It was good fun, and he was conducting a kind of battle between a T-Rex and a few smaller raptors when the phone rang. I'd better answer it, he thought. 'Hullo?' he said. 'Chrissie!' said a woman's voice. 'I thought you'd gone back to Birmingham!' 'No, wrong Chris,' Chris replied. 'I'm just staying here. I'm Chris from New Zealand.' 'Ah,' said the woman. 'That's right. Lou said she and Charlie were looking for a boarder. Welcome to London!' 'Thank you,' said Chris. 'It's been good so far. Can I take a message for Mrs Brooks?' 'Yes,' said the lady. 'Just say Jenny rang, and I'll see her tomorrow at 4. And you'll love London, dear. It's such a big, exciting place. You might even find some boys!' Chris felt himself blushing. He tried to clear his throat. 'Er, I'm not really interested in boys,' he stammered. 'Oh you will be when you grow up, sweetie, believe me,' said the woman. 'Must go. Lovely to talk to you. Bye.' 'Goodbye,' said Chris and hung up. His light voice was often mistaken for a womans, or a girl's, to be more precise. He was used to it. People would ring him in the library, then he would meet them at the counter and they would ask for Chris. He used to blame his parents for giving him an androgynous name, but now he just put up with it. He wrote a note for Louise, then looked at the clock. He still had about 20 minutes of Jurassic Park to enjoy. He was sitting cross legged playing with the toys, and as he reached right across the rug to get a wayward truck, he felt a warmth spreading between his legs. Oh no, he thought and felt the blood draining from his face. He managed to stop the flow, but only after he had seriously wet his shortalls and the rug. As usual, he had been holding on, enjoying his own version of Kegel exercises as he felt his bladder becoming full, but this never happened. His mind felt go blank with the shock. Gathering up the toys and returning them to the kitchen occupied him for a few minutes, but the main problem still loomed. Louise and Charlie were due back very soon, and there was a big wet circle on the rug, right in the middle, and his shortalls were soaked too. Chris felt his breath shortening. He didn't know what to do. At 23, he felt like crying. There were voices outside and he heard the front door open. To be continued.
  13. Young Chris in London Chapter 4 As they dealt with the dishes, Louise chatted on about dinner while Chris tried to assess his options. He had expected somehow to find a motherly woman who would treat him like an infant, in accordance with his regular fantasy. The reality seemed a little more complex. How would he initiate the desired age play, if it was even on the cards? Would he initiate it, or should he wait for Louise to 'start'? What was her comment about playing with the trucks and dinosaurs about? Was that some sort of lead? He was confused. It was nice thinking about playing with the toys, though. It wasn't exactly an infantile activity, but thinking about it was enough to get Chris's juices running. He glanced again at the pile of toys, and felt the same pleasant thrill. He felt his little erection rubbing against the kitchen cupboards as he dried the last of the crockery. He lent forward slightly, enjoying the pressure. 'And I thought we could have for pudding the preserved mulberrys I bought yhesterday,' Louise was saying. 'But I can't get the top off. Can you be a dear?' she added, holding a screw top glass jar towards Chris. Chris snapped out of his reverie, and took the jar in both hands. He tried unsuccessfully to open it then wrapped a damp teatowel around th lid and leaning forward tried again. After a few twisting efforts, the lid came off and Chris was splattered with dark red juice. 'Whoops!' he said, standing back and putting the jar on the bench. 'Oh dear,' said Louise. 'It's mulberry too. It will stain. Here,' she added, beginning to wipe Chris's splattered shirt front and thighs with a freshly wet teatowel. Most of the spillage was in Chris's crotch area, and he drew in his breath sharply as Louise's firm fingers pushed aside his erection to wipe his trousers. Louise said nothing as she worked, but Chris knew she must have felt what was there. 'We'll have to take these off,' announced Louise. 'I'll wash everything straight away. I'll take you upstairs and show you your room now, but first, we'll sort this in the bathroom. I'll run a bath for you too, then you'lll be all set for the evening and I can get the washing going in the laundry. Come on, grab your bag too.' Chris had little choice but to follow Louise as she took his hand and led him out of the kitchen. He picked up his bag from the foot of the stairs and they headed up to the main bathroom. Chris still hadn't said a word. 'In here,' said Louise. 'Quick sticks. Take these off.' Chris bent and took off his shoes then stopped. 'Don't be shy,' said Louise with a laugh. 'I used to be a nurse and I've seen plenty of little girls and boys without their clothes on, and this is an emergency of sorts.' Chris stood while Louise leaned down and helped him drop his pants and extract his feet from them. 'These are stained too,' she said, and tugged down Chris's underpants. Chris had no further problem with his erection, which had disappeared. He was back to his usual diminutive size, his little penis resting above his small scrotal sac, surrounded by what wispy blond pubic hair he possessed. 'And the shirt, please,' said Louise, who had moved to the bath and was adjusting the flow of water into it. 'In you hop,' she said. Chris sat in the bath, his arms around his bent knees. 'I'm sorry, Louise,' he said at last. 'Oh don't worry about that,' said Louise. 'Let's get you washed and dressed. Can I get some clothes from here?' she added, and without waiting for a reply began digging around in Chris's bag. She didn't like what she found. She held up a pair of jeans and another shirt, sniffing them. 'Good grief!' she said. 'These smell like a railway station! It will all need washing. You can try some of Pete's things that are still here. That's enough water in the bath. I think we'll wash your hair too. It's a pity to let such nice hair go the same way as these smelly clothes.' 'I didn't get much chance to wash things, travelling around,' Chris offered, beginning to soap himself. Things really were beyond his control now, he thought, if he ever did have control of what was going on. He began to have second thoughts about the whole venture. Here he was in London, sitting naked in a bath having just been stripped by his new landlady, who was now moving towards him with a bottle of shampoo. 'Eyes shut!' said Louise. Once Chris's hair had been given the best wash it had had in months, Louise stood by the bath with a towel. Drying him was a joint operation, and soon Chris was followinfg Louise to Pete's room. 'This is now the spare room,' said Louise, opening the door to a good sized room decorated for a young teen. 'We haven't redecorated it yet because Christine's room next door is actually the nicer room, and we were going to do that one first. Anyway, you might quite like the way it's set up now. All boys like rockets and cars and space things, don't they.' It wasn't really a question. It wasn't exactly a domme's adult nursery, either. 'Er, yes,' said Chris, looking at the bed which was in the form of a cartoon racing car, but long enough for him to sleep in. 'How old is Pete?' Chris asked. 'Twelve,' replied Louise. 'Well, just twelve anyway. Christine's a year older. Pete's big for his age, just as, well, these should fit you,' she said, taking some folded denim jeans and a t-shirt from a chest of drawers. 'And they smell nice,' she added, putting the pile of clothing to her nose. 'Some undies and a vest,' she concluded, taking the items from another drawer. She put the clothes on the bed, and stood back while Chris put on the underpants. They had cartoon racing cars on them. They were slightly tight on Chrtis, and he winced as he pulled them over his thighs. He knew how small they would make him look, and he turned away from Louise as he tugged them up to his waist. Louise laughed. 'This is no time for shyness, Chris. Now the top,' she said. Chris put his arms up for Louise to pull the vest and t-shirt over his head. There was a big cartoon dinosaur on the front. Chris looked down at it. Louise smiled. 'I think it's a tricero-something,' she said. 'It's a stegosaurus,' Chris corrected her. Louise laughed. 'Good boy!' she said. 'Now these.' Chris saw that what he thought were jeans was a denim shortall. 'This will be warm enough for inside,' said Louise as Chris stepped into the garment. She tugged the bib up and adjusted the straps over Chris's shoulders. He could feel the material pulling up in the crotch as Louise tightened and snapped shut the fasteners. She tugged at the back straps a few times and turned Chris around. 'There we are,' she said, leading Chris to the big mirror in a wardrobe door. 'What a handsome boy!' Boy was right, thought Chris as he looked at his reflection. He didn't look much older than twelve himself. And the tight crotch of the shortalls was almost flat. He certainly didn't look manly. He felt a rush of confused emotions. He felt sad and excited and worried all at the same time. Above all, he felt that he was just along for the ride. 'Nearly done,' said Louise with satisfaction. 'Just your hair.' Without further ado, Louise picked up a brush and began to brush Chris's hair. 'You're lucky,' she said as she finished brushing. 'Lots of girls would kill for beautiful hair like yours.' 'All done,' she said. 'Now, I have to go and pick up Charlie, then we have to go to Richmond for some things. We'll be about an hour and a half. It's warm downstairs. I'll make you a hot drink, then leave you to your devices until dinner. The TV remote is on the table down there, and there are some CDs too, if you can work ourt how to work it. Charlie is the expert on that.' As they went downstairs, Chris could feel the denim pulling up this way and that. He'd never worn shortalls before, and didn't mind the feeling. Louise left, and Chris settled with his drink and the TV remote into one of the big armchairs in front to the fire. He wondered what Charlie would be like. To be continued.
  14. Thanks Eagle! It's nice to have an audience. It's after midnight here now, so I won't do another chapter now, but I have a few ideas swirling around. I'll write some more soon. Sal.
  15. I'll do my best, kirababy. I hope syphon appreciates this one too. I know he likes landlady stories!
  16. Young Chris in London Chapter 3 Chris found Louise's terms very reasonable. He was to have the run of the house, would have a key and could come and go as he pleased. Louise ran the maternity clothing business nearby, and her friend Charlie worked at some place in Twickenham not too far away, but other than that were generally homebodies. She said they went out occasionally, usually to galleries or for walks, and would be pleased if Chris wanted to accompany them on those outings. 'Of course,' said Chris politely. Charlie's niece and nephew had been staying while their parents were overseas, but they had recently returned to the MIdlands with their mother and father, so Louise had put the card in the shop window as a start, hoping that someone local might be looking for accommodation. She said it would be interesting having a 'youngster' from so far away staying with them. 'Youngster' thought Chris. At 23, he was hardly a 'youngster'. Perhaps he was in relation to Louise and Charlie, he thought. Tea always had a diuretic effect on Chris, and he had been feeling the urge to pee for some time. 'Down the hall, behind the kitchen,' Louise replied to his request. 'And Chris,' she added as he left the room, 'We're a 'sit down' house here. The bathroom is carpeted and I know from experience that you boys are not always as neat and tidy about things as you could be.' 'OK,' said Chris, and rolled his eyes as he left the room. Chris usually sat down to pee anyway. He took pleasure in the act of peeing and liked to do it in the privacy of his own cubicle when he had the choice. What's more, he suspected he wasn't as well built down there as some, and didn't enjoy standing at a urinal having to fiddle around to get himself out while someone else was able just to whip himself out and pee. So Chris sat and peed in the brightly lit bathroom. He noticed as he pulled up his underpants that they were a little damp in the crotch. That often happened. Chris was in the habit of delaying his pleasure, but the odd damp undies wouldn't be an issue as he intended to continue rinse his own underwear at night as he had been while he was travelling. Chris didn't like tight briefs, partly because they made him look even smaller than he was, and preferred loose underpants lkke the white cotton ones he had on now. Returning to the sitting rooom, Chris found that Louise had gone into the kitchen, where he found her washing the tea dishes. 'Let me help,' he offered. 'Thank you Chris,' said Louise. 'There are teatowels at the end of the bench.' Chris found the teatowels, and looked down to see a collection of plastic trucks and plastic dinosaurs piled up against a glass sliding door to a courtyard. He smiled because trucks and dinosaurs had been his favourite toys years ago. Louise noticed his interest and laughed. 'They're Pete's,' she said. 'Charlie's nephew. He should have put them away before they left. You can play with them after dinner if you like.' Chris felt an odd thrill shoot down his spine. He coughed to cover his surprise at what Louise had said. 'Er, it's OK, I want to write to the people at the library,' he said. It was the first excuse he thought ot. He wondered if he had misheard Louise. What an odd thing to say, he thought. It was strange. For the first time since he had arrived, he began to feel that things were not entirely as he expected, nor were they entirely under his control. He wriggled his toes inside his shoes as he dried the teacups. To be continued.
  17. Thank you for the all the kind words! It's nice to be back. Young Chris in London Chapter 2 Chris smiled inwardly as well as outwardly. This was looking good, he thought. The mature, motherly lady might just be the means he was looking for to explore his fond fantasy here in this huge city where he knew no-one and was himself unknown. He felt the same exciting, conflicting emotions he had felt the first time he had bought nappies for himself. Then he had wanted both to run and get on with his life just like all the other normal people in the world, but he also felt the irresistable desire to indulge his secret yearnings. He hoped the woman didn't detect his nervous excitement as he shook her warm, soft hand. 'I'm Louise,' said the woman. 'Chris,' replied Chris. 'I mean, I'm Chris. Pleased to meet you.' 'I'm pleased to meet you too, Chris. It's nice to meet a boy with good manners,' Louise replied, holding the door opene for Chris. Chris was glad he seemed to be making a good impression. The terrace house was very spacious, with mustard coloured carpet though the wide hall and a flight of stairs leading upwards at one side. There were landscape paintings hanging on the walls and a large ceramic jar on a console table. On a rack fixed to the wall were a pinkish raincoat and a dark overcoat and some scarves. Chris blinked. He wondered if a man lived here too, the owner of the dark coat. He hadn't considered that there would be any male company for his little escapade into the unknown. 'Through here, please,' said Louise, interrupting his thoughts. 'You can leave your things here,' she added, indicating the base of the stairs. Chris put down his bag and followed Louise into a large sitting room furnished with comfortable-looking chairs in floral chintz and a three seat sofa in a yellow velvet. There was a wide screen TV near a large fireplace in which several logs were burning brightly. Chris smiled. It was just what he expected of a solid, middle class London suburban home. It would be good to be part of it, for a while, anyway. As he looked around he realised that he really had no particular conception of what the house of a person interested in his unusual preferences might look like. Why not like this. he asked himself. 'Make yourself at home, Chris,' said Louise. 'And we can have a chat. Would you like a cup of tea?' Ah, the British tea opening, thought Chris. 'Yes please,' he said. 'I won't be long,' said Luise, turning to a door next to the fireplace. 'Please sit down.' Chris smiled back at Louise and sat in one of the big armchairs. It was so soft it almost swallowed him. 'What brings you to London?' asked Louise as she poured the tea and offered Chris a biscuit. 'Well,' said Chris, 'I've been living with my aunt in New Zealand, and she passed away some months ago, so I was sort of on the loose.' 'No family?' asked Louise. 'Not really,' said Chris. 'Some cousins in South Africa, but no immediate family. My parents, well, they both died some years ago, so I went to stay with my aunt. She was a spinster.' 'I see,' said Louise. 'I'm sorry to hear about your loss. Are you working?' Chris wanted to handle that question properly. 'I was working in a library in Auckland,' he replied, 'But it wasn't my lifetime dream or anything. I have an inheritance, not a huge amount but enough to stop working for a while and see the world a bit. I'm not drifting - I came to London because I consider it one of the greatest cities in the world, culturally and so on, and I thought I'd start here. I have no immediate plans, and I'd like to settle for a bit and really experience the place. I was living in a hotel, but it was expensive, and well. not very homely.' 'I understand,' said Louise. 'I think we'll get on very well. There are just two of us here now, my friend and I. She trusts my judgment, so I'd like to offer you our spare bedroom. Do you think you'd like it here? Chris felt very happy. He wasn't sure what to expect, but his plans seemed to be falling into place. 'Yes, I would,' he answered. 'Thank you Louise.' 'My pleasure,' replied Louise. 'I trust that you will find our house as homely as you are hoping. Now, let's talk about rent and so on.' To be continued.
  18. I really enjoyed this story. The idea and the progress of the story is quite different than most 'dominant female regresses male' stories. The mention of diapers is minimal, but effective. There's a lot gong on - Ella's insidious intent, Eric's vulnerability to his own libido, Benny's total submission via regression. The story is well written and has an authentic tone, given the suspension of disbelief required. Its really written from Eric's point of view, and that makes it possible for the reader to share in Eric's descent to toddlerhood. The characters are well set up, even if Elly becomes Lisa occasionally! She is a piece of work. I'd like to meet her, provided I had an escape button, and could remember how to use it! Thanks barefootboy.
  19. Thanks Elfie. Nicky seems close to considering crawling and playtime are sometimes the best option. I wonder if Sarah will be able to undo what she's done, if she ever wants to. Great chapter. I'm looking forward to more!
  20. Well, naughty little Nicky has brought it on himself. I'd start with a good spanking and work up from there. I'd ban him permanently from the computer, too. : ) I was really thrilled to see another chapter too, Elfy. Please keep going. It's an excellent story, as good as any I've read, and better than anything I've written. It reminds me of other great stories, like Sam and Jess, and nautybaby's best stories.
  21. That sounds encouraging, Elfy. I hope you can give us more of Bad Husband... It's a great story!
  22. Near future? Cripes, Elfy. I know I can't talk, but we'll all be old and grey by the time Nicky's next change is due! Don't leave us dangling like this. Great story, by the way. I'm loving every line. Poor little Nickytums!
  23. Thank you Elfy. This story is going very well. I'm enjoying Nicky's descent to toddlerhood, and I'm sure others are too. I like the way he is slipping into an infantile mentality - watching the pretty colours of the cartoons and so on. He's a good subject and Sarah is a good mummy. I think they've found a very worthwhile relationship. Keep up the good work - I wish I could keep m stories going along so well. Sal
  24. Ann and Joe Chapter 1 Same old plot, different names, slightly different story – I’ll think of something new eventually! I know that some people like this scenario. I do too, so I hope those who like it enjoy it. Joe’s recovery was trying for both him and his wife Ann. Ann was trying to juggle her job as an executive with an international company with caring for Joe, and there was still their large home and grounds to look after. They had a gardener, who now took on Joe’s chores in the garden as well, but Ann had always liked to do her own housework, and continued to do so. It was six months after the accident, and Joe was still struggling. He was whole physically, but he still had motor problems. His coordination was not improving as well as had been hoped. The months in hospital had robbed him of much of his strength, and he still had a lot of trouble with simple tasks. He emotional state continued to be fragile, and his short term memory was not up to complex tasks. He needed reminding often for ordinary things, and would surprise Ann by odd behaviours such as forgetting to put his pants on after his shower bath unless Ann helped him dress, or he would ask silly questions or misinterpret straightforward things. In short, he could be a trial, even for Ann who loved him. Ann had found that she had to institute some rules around the house. She couldn’t trust Joe in the kitchen, for example, so he was banned from there without Ann being present. He no longer drove, of course, and couldn’t use the keypad on the phone, or a keyboard. Ann had been working from home as much as she could, but that practice had been taking a toil on her work, and much as she tried not to, she had begun to resent having to supervise Joe most of the day. Joe was OK settled in front of the screen, watching the material he liked. He wasn’t interested in talking heads, and couldn’t follow complex storylines. He wasn’t interested in current affairs any more, and although Ann had tried to follow the doctors’ directions and push him towards more challenging material just as Joe’s physical therapy was intended to ask increasingly more of him, she felt less guilt as time went on about taking the easy option and letting Joe watch the cartoons and childrens’ programs he preferred. She even lied slightly to the doctors about that, justifying her decisions by reminding herself how irresponsible Joe had been in lying to her about what he was doing at the time of the accident. He had been drunk, and had been on his way to visit his secretary, ostensibly as far as Ann could make out to deliver some work material to the girl. Ann suspected it was more than that, but she hadn’t been able to get the story from Joe and the girl herself had returned to New Zealand and was well out of reach. There wasn’t much point pursuing it, anyway. Things were what they were, and Joe was certainly loving in his way, and Ann found a new kind of fondness for him in caring for him. It wasn’t as though Joe was out of reach in any way, either. There were times when he was his old self, just with some physical problems. But most of the time, he was ‘compromised’ as one of the doctors had said, and quite dependent on Ann. They’d had no children, and sometimes Ann found that his affectionate dependence made her feel maternal in a way. Ann did feel guilty about that. After all, he was 28, and while not an imposing physical specimen, he was not a child, even if he did behave like one at times. Ann looked now at Joe, who was sleeping on the sofa. He often got tired in mid afternoon, and Ann was happy to let him sleep. An afternoon nap reduced the chance of him becoming frustrated and fractious which he did when he was tired. Ann understood how hard it must be for him, and did her best to keep him happy. She smiled at her sleeping husband. He had a favourite pillow, which he tended to clutch close when he slept. He even took it to bed with him now. Ann didn’t mind. They didn’t have sex any more – Joe was effectively impotent now, but he liked cuddling. Apart from his occasional grumpy turns, the only time he was a real handful was when he wet the bed. He hated that happening, and now that it was happening a couple of times a month, Ann had suggested that he slept in the spare bedroom. He was still welcome in her bed for a cuddle in the evening and in the morning when he would wander in and climb into the big bed they had once shared, but for the bulk of the night Ann preferred him in his own bed with the plastic sheet he resented so much beneath him. It saved a lot of washing. Ann had suggested night time protective pants for him, but he had got so cross she dropped the subject. He’d wet twice in the last week, and even with the plastic sheet it still meant washing the bottom sheet and the pyjamas he now wore, as well as his favoured pillow, which had had managed to soak as well on the last occasion. A few days later, Ann was asked to attend to some work that had to be done in the office. Ann had minimized it as much as she could, but she still had to be away from home for two whole days. She was ashamed to admit it, but she was looking forward to the break. She had organized with Joe’s physical therapist someone to come to the house, just to keep an eye on things and make sure Joe was OK. She wondered how Joe would take the news. He could be very insistent that he could cope alone, but the few times Ann had left him alone he had had a few issues. There was the pan boiled dry that had initiated the kitchen ban, and another time he had spilled the lunch she had left for him all over the leather armchair he was sitting in. They weren’t big things, but Ann felt that it was still risky to leave him home all day. ‘I don’t need anyone!’ Joe had said predictably when Ann had broached the subject. Ann had used the phrase ‘sit with you’, innocently enough, but it had got Joe upset. ‘You said a sitter,’ he complained. ‘I don’t need a sitter. I’m a grown man.’ ‘Yes, honey,’ said Ann, ‘But you forget things. You drop things. It’s not your fault, but it’s too risky to leave you here all by yourself for two whole days.’ ‘No!’ said Joe, and set his mouth in a pout. 'All by myself! I'm not a child. You don't have to talk to me like that!' Ann couldn’t help laughing, but she stopped laughing when she saw Joe's lips quivering and his eyes moistening. She realised that such a mundane thing as having someone around to ensure his safety was a big thing to Joe in nis newly dependent state. She hugged Joe, and tried to explain again, to more resistance from him, but she had to put her foot down. ‘Joe, it’s done, honey,’ she said. ‘I’ve arranged for her to come tomorrow and the next day. She has a lot of experience looking after people, and I’m sure you’ll like her. She works with people with problems all the time, and you can just do what you normally do. She’ll be there to help you if you need, just like I am.’ So it was settled, despite Joe sulkily stomping off to the couch and turning on the TV. Peg worked as a nurse at a respite centre for injured adults and children, and she had impressed Ann at an interview at the centre where the therapist had directed Ann. Ann liked the centre too. It seemed a very caring environment, where the patients were accepted with their various issues. Ann decided to keep the place in mind. She hadn’t told Joe, but she was under consideration for a job on the other side of the country for a few weeks. On the strength of what she’d seen at the centre, she had decided to make herself definitely available. She was hoping that if Joe had a good rapport with Peg, it might be possible for him to stay at the centre for a while. Ann decided to have a chat with Peg about it too. Peg was a no-nonsense woman, well built and deliberate in her actions, but clearly patient and with a kind heart. She had asked Ann a lot of questions about Joe’s behavior and his needs, and Ann felt confident that Joe would be in good hands. To be continued.