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smarti

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    Dreams

    in Our Lifestyle Discussion

    Posted

    Yes, many times - sometimes also in baby sissy clothing, the other people parents, colleagues etc who would be embarassing. About a year ago we had an aggressive boss - not evil, just in your face - who featured in this kind of dream on several separate occasions. when he left, the dreams stopped. Anxiety? Freud might call this a wish i didn't want fulfilled

    Kate Middleton In Ab Shot (Admits It's True)

    in Diapers in the News

    Posted

    Rag week happens at most UK universities, and it is a week of doing silly things to raise money for charity. The other article alleges "initiations by seniors" and what have you, which is obviously complete rubbish. Therefore, I can't see the Queen objecting. As said, this photo was dug up by the tabloids in the run up to the wedding 2 years ago, but interesting to see it's taken on a new life of its own.

    Poll: Toys

    in Little Boy's Tree Fort

    Posted

    need more polls about toys.. "other", because "other" is trains, when i have my boy head on.. any kind of train, wooden pushalong, or electric scale model, will do. When i was 3, i had a clockwork tin train that had a little straight piece of track and turned itself around at each end. Just recently, I saw one on ebay and bought it. Otherwise, i'll play with anything on your list.. action figures, didn't really exist for boys when i was a nipper, but i did have Action Man, the UK equivalent of GI Joe, just action man was controversial enough as a doll for boys lol. I had cap guns, but never a favourite like lego. Nothing wrong with baby toys either - one was an egg with various appendages which made a noise when you twisted them around, so clever, many adults played with it, without realizing :P

    Babykins

    in Diaper Lovers

    Posted

    i bought some plastic pants, rumbhas and training pants from them. At the same time, I tried some other vendors, but Babykins beat them all easily. The Babykins PPs are durable, well made, work great, super soft and excellent value for money.

    A Cautionary Tale

    in Story and Art Forum

    Posted

    A cautionary tale

    “Melanie is being such a headache to me now,” said Ruth Fenton to her best friend Marlene, over a cup of tea in Marlene’s kitchen. “I really don’t know what to do with her.. always getting into trouble, and making life difficult for everyone. It’s the clique she’s in with at school, always daring themselves to ever more stupid things. I mean, your Emma, who’s still in nappies, is less of a handful.” As she said this, she held Emma in her lap, and looked at her. Emma pawed her on the nose and let out a happy peal of baby giggles.

    Marlene sighed sympathetically, and then said mischievously, “Why don’t you put Melanie back in nappies?”

    They giggled. “Chance would be a fine thing,” said Ruth. “For one thing, she’s hardly ever in the house!” Ruth thought it was preposterous, but the image of Melanie in nappies would not leave her.

    Three months after that, Melanie finally went over the line. She was with her best friend Sherry, they’d been smoking crack, and Sherry needed money. So they decided to hold up a convenience store. Sherry saw the shop assistant set off the alarm, and foolishly attacked her. Unluckily for them there was a police car just around the corner, and they were nicked, charged with armed robbery and grievous bodily harm.

    Ruth knew a good lawyer, Reginald Arbuthnot, Q.C., and he carefully painted a picture for the jury that Melanie, from a “good” home, had been led astray by the criminally-minded Sherry. Sherry went down for 9 years, but Melanie got off on a good-behaviour bond, that nonetheless cost Ruth a fortune. Ruth was very angry. The school expelled them both, of course. But Marlene’s words came back to Ruth, and she formed a plan to deal with Melanie.

    Melanie paced the kitchen in her jeans, trainers and hoodie. Under this street armour, she was a only five feet two, a pretty brunette with hazel eyes, although her hair, at that stage, was brutally short. When Ruth finally arrived, Melanie already had a plan herself. “I’m going out now, Mum,” meaning a confab on the dreadful state of affairs with her gang, who might be a bit less judgmental.

    “Oh no. You are not going anywhere, little miss,” said Ruth firmly. She got straight to the point. “I want you to understand that your bond given is on extreme sufferance. If you do not do as I tell you, if you do not comply in every respect, I will instruct Mr Arbuthnot to cancel the bond, and you will go to prison. Do I make myself clear?”

    Melanie blinked. She’d seen her mother angry before, but this was a completely new tone. She appeared to mean her threat. “But Mum..” She had already texted her buddies.

    “You will come with me to your bedroom, now,” ordered Ruth. She took Melanie’s hand and led her protesting up the stairs. When they got in the bedroom door, Melanie was shocked to see the room had been changed in her absence. The bed was gone, and Mum had replaced it with her old cot, which she’d brought up from the garage. It was a big cot, and Melanie was small. Her desk had been replaced with a changing table with a pile of neatly folded nappies on it, and plastic panties. All her posters had been taken down, all her ornaments gone.

    Melanie gasped. “But it’s just like a baby’s room!”

    “That is exactly right, Melanie. I told Marlene that her Emma was less trouble than you, and Marlene suggested that I put you back in nappies. And that is exactly what I will do. I will put you back in nappies. Now, take your clothes off.”

    “I won’t!” said Melanie. “You can’t treat me like this!” and she folded her arms aggressively.

    “Right.” Ruth took out her phone and pressed the call button. Mr Arbuthnot answered. Ruth put on the phone speaker, to show Melanie it was no bluff.

    “.. Good afternoon. And how can I help you, Mrs Fenton?

    “Mr Arbuthnot, can you tell the court that we no longer need the bond, and that they can come and pick up Melanie tomorrow.”

    “Very well, Mrs Fenton.”

    Melanie, frightened, shouted, “No!”

    “Mrs Fenton?”

    Ruth made a motion for Melanie to take off her belt, and Melanie undid the buckle.

    “Oh, it’s alright, Mr Arbuthnot. Please leave it for now. I’ll call you again tomorrow.”

    “Very well, Mrs Fenton.” The line blooped. He had played his part perfectly. But there had been no bluff.

    Melanie stood there, naked and shivering.

    “Bath time,” said Ruth, leading Melanie in to the bathroom, quickly and roughly, so Melanie slipped, just regaining her footing. She was outraged at her mother staying there in the bathroom and scrubbing her vigourously, but it was quickly over.

    Back in the bedroom, Melanie flinched as her mother dried her with the big towel, which she hadn’t done since Melanie was ten.

    “Now lie down on the table.” Some of the fight had gone out of Melanie and she lay bemused as Ruth wiped and powdered her, pinned the soft terry nappy on her and threaded a pair of plastic panties up her legs. She was nappied. Ruth told Melanie to sit on the floor, in nothing but her nappy. The bulk between her legs felt strange.

    It was a short inventory. “First, the phone, which you won’t need any more. Then, all your ridiculously overpriced denim. Some will fit Jenny, but most of it, I’m giving to charities which help kids who didn’t have your advantages.” Melanie bit her lip thinking of Jenny, her 15 year old sister. “The same for all these gadgets – iPod, iPad, netbook.. Now your new wardrobe.” Ruth opened the wardrobe door. She was a competent seamstress and she had made a complete set of baby clothes in Melanie’s size. Melanie could only stare as Ruth took a sweet pink satin baby dress and pulled it over Melanie’s head, pulling her arms through the puffed sleeves. Melanie stood up, the dress draped down, but did not cover her nappy.

    They were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Jenny came in, and called up the stairs, “Mum?”

    “We’ll be with you in a minute!” shouted Ruth.

    Ruth took a pair of cloth booties and velcroed them onto Melanie’s feet. “Now, downstairs,” said Ruth. Melanie inhaled sharply, but Ruth put her finger to her lip.

    Jenny watched them come into the kitchen as she was standing by the stove, in elegant calf-length college skirt, looking every inch the mature-minded young woman that Melanie wasn’t. Seeing Melanie in her baby attire, she could not suppress a giggle, and Melanie blushed furiously.

    Ruth had Melanie sit at the table. “Now, everybody listen,” said Ruth. “Melanie is to keep to a baby’s routine absolutely, so we can look after her all the time.”

    Jenny looked at her new baby sister, nominally three years her senior. She thought Mum’s plan was radical, but maybe appropriate. Melanie had to be brought under control somehow. Time would tell.

    “Jenny,” said Ruth, “I’m afraid I’ll need your help in babysitting. If Melanie is a bad baby, you must let me know immediately.”

    “Yes Mum,” said Jenny.

    “So now what is the time for Melanie? I think it’s feeding time!” said Ruth. “Can you help with Melanie please, Jenny?”

    Melanie squirmed as her sister tied on a bib and fed her yesterday’s leftovers, pureed, with a spoon from a divided plate. The first mouthful was so vile, she spat it out, going all over her bib. Jenny looked at Ruth. “Let me do it, Jenny," said Ruth. She fixed Melanie with a steely stare as she offered another spoon. “I know, you must be starving.” She stared down Melanie, and Melanie reluctantly swallowed. Soon they were finished, but not before Ruth had scraped that first misguided spoonful off Melanie’s bib and chin. “There, good girl, Melanie!” said Ruth. Melanie groaned. Then Jenny came back from the counter with a feeding bottle of formula.

    Melanie found herself exasperated by the tiny flow through the nipple hole. She was thirsty. As she came to the end of her bottle, the clock reached seven.

    “It’s time for bed, now, I think,” said Ruth. “It’s been a very tiring day for all of us.”

    Ruth hadn’t left anything to chance, and she had adapted Melanie’s cot to ensure she could not climb out and escape. As it was summer, the sun was still up and poking its way in through the closed curtains. Melanie could hear children running in the street, and the muffled television downstairs, early evening theme tunes. How could she possibly sleep? She rattled the bars of the cot and thought of Sherry being locked into a cell. Probably later than this. Sherry was in prison, and so was she... Exhausted, she broke down and cried. Then the events of the day took their toll, and she dozed off.

    She woke up when it was dark, with a strong urge to pee. It felt like two in the morning, when actually it was not yet ten in the evening. She squirmed and squirmed, having never wet herself before, and her control was still strong. She crossed her legs and contorted. But finally she gave in, and flooded her nappy.

    She felt the sheets under her, but they were dry; the thick terries and plastic panties had done their job. All the wetness was inside. The unusual feeling of being in a wet nappy made it even harder to sleep. Then to her alarm, came an urge to poo. This she resisted. She’d find a way to get that out tomorrow morning. The feeling left her, and she continued to toss and turn, sleeping fitfully. So she was very groggy when Ruth came in to get her at 6 am the next morning.

    The first thing Ruth did after bringing down the cot side was to check Melanie’s nappy, as she lay there bleary-eyed. “Oh dear,” said Ruth, “Let’s get you changed.” And it was all done before Melanie was really aware of anything. She was brought downstairs and sat in the adapted “high chair” to wait for her rusk in milk, and formula. Jenny came downstairs and helped. After feeding, Melanie was set on the living room carpet with her toys.

    Suddenly the urge to poo returned, stronger than ever. Again Melanie contorted, and this time gave in, the sickening mass leaving her colon and messing her nappy. She’d never before soiled herself, and it felt awful. Jenny’s nose wrinkled. “I think Melanie did a poo.”

    “My goodness!” said Ruth. Melanie was changed then and there on the carpet. She grimaced at her own younger sister wiping her private areas of poo, but she was glad they’d been so quick.

    Thus did Melanie’s regime proceed in the ensuing days. The third night locked in the cot, she toyed with the idea of going to the prison instead, but this thought lasted less than a minute. The local prison, Brightview, was notorious. Penal servitude administered by people who probably loved her underneath it all, was still preferable to complete strangers, who might take all sorts of liberties.

    Melanie’s hair grew long, and Ruth tied it into pretty pigtails. Ruth thought it was important that Melanie get out and get fresh air, so they had at least one “park day” each week, the whole family with Melanie in a “park dress” that was not too noticeable. The wind on her face and the sight of birds made Melanie think she might have taken the right decision, but this was before the first night she was baby sat.

    Jenny had a lot of extra-curricular activities going on and was not always available when Ruth had some urgent business too. So Ruth asked around and found what she thought was a suitable local girl, Clare Pargetter. But when Melanie heard this name, she blanched to roots of her hair.

    Her mind raced back to the time she and Sherry had dragged Clare into a stall of the girls’ toilet and held her face in the bowl until she told them where the key to the medicine cabinet was. Clare really didn’t know. Melanie had stayed Sherry’s hand after about three flushes, and amazingly, Clare hadn’t snitched on them. She just kept prudently of out their way. Still, Melanie did not want to see Clare Pargetter just yet.

    “Well, well, well,” said Clare, after Ruth had gone, “Melanie Fenton! Who would have thought this about Melanie Fenton? I suppose, this is your mother’s way of punishing you.”

    Melanie didn’t respond to this, instead saying, “Look, what we did to you.. I’m sorry.”

    “I think you have rather a lot to be sorry about, don’t you?” said Clare, reasonably.

    “You won’t tell them at school.. about this?”

    “Your sister has taken care of that,” said Clare. “She’s always moaning to her friends about having to babysit you. Although, I don’t think they really realize how she’s being,” - she gestured at Melanie’s romper and nappy - “like, absolutely literal.” Clare giggled.

    Melanie froze in acute awareness of her apparel.

    Clare suddenly leaned over and tickled Melanie’s chin. “Kootchie kootchie koo!”, she said, in a harsh caricature of the sound. Melanie burned and turned her face.

    “Aww, widdo baby Mew Mew aww shy,” continued Clare, tormenting. “Maybe widdo baby Mew Mew wet uns nappies?” And she put fingers into Melanie’s leg hole, and to her surprise, found Melanie was soaked.

    “Aww, widdo baby Mew Mew awwwwww wets! Wetty baby!” Melanie continued to burn fierce red. “I fink widdo baby Mew Mew wants changee nappy? Yes?” she pinched Melanie’s cheek, and Melanie tried to duck.

    Melanie pleaded, “Stop... please.. stop...” But the light in Clare’s eyes told Melanie that stopping just then would not be adequate payback for having your face flushed in the toilet three times.

    Clare dragged Melanie to the mat. “Wets changee widdo baby Mew Mew’s nappy!” She pulled off the plastic pants and undid the pins, pulling down the yellow urine-soaked terry. “Awwww widdo baby Mew Mew did such a wot of weewees! Wets get wetty nappy off widdo Mew Mew!”

    It was relentless. When Melanie was re-nappied, Clare cooed and gushed all over her. “Awww, doesn’t widdo Mew Mew look so adooooowable in her nappy! Such a sweet widdo baby giwl! Kootchie kootchie koo!” Which made Melanie burn red again. Clare picked up a rattle and shook it in Melanie’s face. “Here Mew Mew it’s a wattle, shakey, shakey!”

    The only way Widdo Baby Mew Mew could get away from it, was to feign sleep, which soon became real sleep. So when Ruth got home, Melanie was out soundly. Clare was reading a book in the armchair.

    “No trouble then Clare?” asked Ruth.

    “Oh no, none at all,” said Clare. “Melanie went off straight away.”

    “Maybe you’d like to come back again some time?”

    “I’d like that!” said Clare.

    About a month later, Ruth had gone with Jenny to the cinema, so Clare was called again. Melanie waited with trepidation, but Clare had had her revenge, and she was not at all mean by nature. Melanie’s woebegone appearance confirmed she’d made the right decision.

    “Look what I’ve got!”, said Clare, rummaging in her bag. Melanie waited nervously.

    “It’s a DVD of the movie they’ve gone to see. My brother downloaded it from a torrent. Want to watch it?”

    So much gratitude welled up in Melanie that she cried. “How can I thank you? You’re saving my life! And after all I did to you!”

    “Don’t worry Melanie. That’s all in the past. It’s over.” Clare grinned, and popped the DVD in the tray. They sat there on the sofa watching it together, and Clare had even thought to bring some popcorn. The sophisticated adult entertainment was like a soothing balm to Melanie’s soul.

    When Ruth and Jenny returned, the scene that presented itself to Ruth was exactly the same as the previous time – Melanie asleep, Clare reading.

    “Everything OK?” asked Ruth.

    “Oh yes,” said Clare, smiling. “No problems at all.”

    The next time, Clare brought her laptop. “I’ve got a lot of homework, but it’s nearly all reading. I thought you might like to surf the net for a few hours.” Melanie was wide eyed, and gingerly fingered the keyboard.

    “I’ve almost forgotten how to use it!” said Melanie, giggling. She left her old teen profile pages alone; they seemed to belong to another person. What Melanie wanted to find was whether there was anyone else in a predicament similar to herself, whether anyone else in the whole wide world was being kept in nappies.

    To her surprise, there were – mostly males to be sure, henpecked husbands or mummy’s boys, but one or two girls, or at least stories about them. Then there were the crowd of ABDL (“adult babies” and “diaper lovers”), a spectrum of the incontinent, diaper fetishists, and people who preferred to stay little, in varying combinations. It was an inverted nappy world where the toilet was shameful, and people embraced little things with pride; earnest conversations about the best nappies, or plastic panties, and lots of playing, sometimes with a sexual undercurrent, other times innocent. Most people on the scene were nice, and some were just plain awesome. She loved it, and even in a four hour session, she was able to make friends.

    These respites were to prove the exception rather than the norm. Melanie’s baby routine continued relentlessly: feeding, changing, playing, sleeping. Days stretched into weeks, and then months, and then years.

    It was a slog. The constant reminders of her infantile status in the household remained. The cot was still locked every night, her diet was still pureed leftovers spiced with jars of baby food, her daytime entertainment was still baby toys and cartoons.

    As for the nappies, she no longer cared. She wet and soiled without control, and let them check her and change her, like the baby they wanted her to be. Her only sources of comfort were “park days”, Clare’s babysitting with her magic laptop, and Mr Tiddles, the family’s silver-grey tabby.

    He never belittled her; he offered, and received, only unconditional love. She thought that if she ever got out of that place, she might work with animals.

    Her new Internet buddies pointed out that one attraction of this lifestyle was the complete lack of any responsibility; everything was done for you. No worries about what to do next, or anything you had to do for someone else, not even using the toilet. So Melanie made a kind of peace with it, although there were still some days when she’d stare wistfully out of the window and wish she could go somewhere, or feel a ravening hunger for a steak.

    Meanwhile, Jenny was blooming. She graduated, as expected, at the top of her class, and won a place at the most prestigious university in the country.

    However, the day came when it was all over. Ruth made the announcement at breakfast, when Jenny happened to be home.

    “Last night, I got an email from Mr Arbuthnot. He says that today, Melanie’s friend Sherry will be let out of prison for good behaviour. I’d asked him to let me know, so, according to what we agreed, Melanie is now, well, Melanie again.”

    They all took the news in. Jenny said, “So Melanie isn’t a baby any more?”

    “Yes! Yes!” said Ruth. “She’s all grown up. In fact, she’s older than you.”

    They looked at Melanie, who was having difficulty controlling her emotions.

    “What about you, then Melanie?” asked Ruth.

    “Well,” said Melanie slowly. “You know, four years in nappies has made me virtually incontinent.”

    “We could re-trai..” started Ruth. Melanie cut off that last twinge of the babying with a raised hand.

    “I don’t need it Mum. Actually, I’ve become quite fond of my nappies. I’ll carry on wearing them. I’ll just change myself.”

    This development caught Ruth off-guard. Melanie continued, “There are thousands of people out there who wear nappies, Mum. ABDL – Adult Babies and Diaper Lovers. Some of them are good people. They helped me cope.”

    Ruth was taken aback. “I’m sorry, Melanie, so, so, sorry … “ She groped for words. “… I didn’t know what to do.. tough love. It was the toughest love I ever had to give… Maybe I let it go on too long. Poor Melanie, it was too long.. I’m sorry…” Ruth looked like crying herself.

    Melanie cried out, “But I love you, Mum!” and they hugged in floods of tears.

    As they separated, Melanie said, “I’ll keep my cot too. As long as I can get in and out of it when I want to.”

    “Of course!” said Ruth, and they all laughed.

    Melanie slowly pieced her life back together again, but the old Melanie, who smoked crack and hurt people, had gone. A friend of Clare’s got Melanie a job as a vet’s assistant. At that stage in her life, Melanie would happily die for Clare Pargetter. Melanie was training to be a technician, and who knew, she might pursue a veterinary degree at night school, to rival her snottily perfect sister.

    She was thinking these happy thoughts as she walked down the street to the bus stop, when she noticed a girl coming towards her in the opposite direction, who looked strangely familiar. The other girl was also doing a double take. They stopped, facing each other.

    “Sherry!” gasped Melanie.

    “Hey, Crack Girl!” said Sherry.

    They eyed each other carefully. Prison had aged Sherry by an extra ten years. She’d always been a hard girl, but now, she looked like titanium bullets.

    Melanie was wearing a blue park dress, although now with a pair of pretty denim capris, and with a discreet pull-up under. She’d taken out the pigtails, but her brown hair was soft and wavy. She would easily pass for 17.

    Melanie started, “I just have to tell you, that your getting out was a very good thing for me..”

    Sherry was puzzled. “How could that be?”

    Melanie realized she didn’t want to go into detail. “Mum.. was giving me a… hard time at home, when you were in.”

    This struck Sherry forcefully. “Hard time… Hard time?” Melanie fidgeted nervously. “Prison’s fucking hard, you know? Hard.” said Sherry. “It was the hardest time I’d ever had in my life. I had to do everything I could to get the fuck out of there. You.. You…” she strangled on the words, edged as they were with four years of injustice and betrayal, “You had it soft!”

    Melanie was wordless at the accusation, but felt she had to get away. “Yes, I suppose.. I suppose I had it… soft.. Sorry, I have to run for my bus. Bye Sherry.”

    “Bye then, Crack Girl,” said Sherry, and they walked their separate ways, never to see each other again.

    THE END

    Why Post The Negative Stories?

    in Diapers in the News

    Posted

    Agrees.. negative news raises the public profile of ABDL. If someone is interested, they'll investigate the reality of it. If they are open minded people, as most people are, they'll not be too bothered.. "weird but harmless" category. a pedo in diapers is in prison because he's a pedo, not because of the diapers. wingnuts and haters would just hate anyway. The end result is that people become aware that ABDL even exists and actually has a sizeable population. When I was a teenager, folks, awareness of ABDL was 0. As in zero, nada, zip, zilch.

    Royal Bride-To-Be Kate Middleton In A Nappy

    in Diapers in the News

    Posted

    Yes.. very normal for a rag week.. and there are other pics she'd probably rather were not in circulation! Still, agreed, not bad for a kids' party supplies heiress to make a future queen :)

    I don't think she should be too embarrassed. I mean if she was going it for a good cause, why be ashamed? And it's not like she was wearing anything too embarrassing. Very tame in my opinion. And I guess congrats to her for getting engaged?? :)

    Maternal Instinct

    in Story and Art Forum

    Posted

    Chapter 3 - Chrissy

    It was another lovely spring day in the nursery and my babies were playing happily in the playpen, as if they had known no other life. Nikki was playing with her monkey and teddy, while Marvin doodled with the activity centre. Then they both got sleepy as naptime approached, and were happy to lie down next to each other sucking on their bottles with their eyes closed, looking blissful and dreamy.

    The doorbell rang to wake them up, and Nikki looked fretful. I knew who it was however - it was Chrissy come again to babysit. I opened the door. "Hello Mrs Wright," she said politely.

    "Come in please, Chrissy," I said, "Thanks for coming again."

    "Oh, my pleasure," said Chrissy. "I had so much fun last time." Nikki and Marvin eyed her warily. No blazer or pleated school skirt this time, she was casual in jeans and tee shirt, as it was the school holidays.

    "Well Chrissy, I've made some bottles for them, and they will need feeding in about 2 hours." she nodded, and I showed her the baby food in the fridge, the plates and spoons, and the bibs.

    "I think I can handle that," she said, with what I detected as a slight smirk, but I feigned not to notice, as I was sure the afternoon would not go as Chrissy expected.

    "Alright. Goodbye, Chrissy." I went over to my babies and kissed them both. They giggled, slightly embarrassed. I stroked their little heads. "Mummy won't be very long. Now be good for Aunty Chrissy, won't you?"

    "Yes Mummy," they said. They know something was going to happen too, although they did not know exactly what.

    I waved to them all as I put on my coat and went out of the door. But I wasn't going to my sister's, as I had told Chrissy. I walked to a small triangle of grass behind our block which had a comfortable bench, where I sat, and watched the camera feed on my mobile phone.

    Chrissy lost no time in getting down to business. Picking on Marvin first, she said, "Oh my little Boo-boo! Come to Aunty Chrissy for a kiss!" Marvin did as he was told, reluctantly. She planted a kiss on his forehead. "What a lovely dress you have on, my little Boo-boo! Now play pat-a-cake with me," she commanded, which he did reluctantly.

    After a few minutes of this, she heard his plastic pants rustle, and announced, "I think I have to check your nappy." For poor Marvin, the bottle had had its effect. She withdrew a moist finger from his nappy leg-hole triumphantly. "Naughty Boo-boo! You've wet your nappy!" and she slapped him hard on the thigh. "Now Aunty Chrissy has to change your nappy! Lie down here on the blanket, Boo-boo." Marvin assumed a prostrate position as ordered.

    She tried to pull off his plastic pants, but they were stuck on his nappy bum. She slapped him again impatiently. "Now lift up your little bum, Boo-boo," and Marvin hurried to comply, as she threaded the pants off his legs. She then unpinned the nappy and saw the extent of the wetting, and feigned shock again, as she slapped Marvin hard again. "Naughty Boo-boo! Big wetty girl!"

    Watching this scene, I winced, as I knew this was one of Marvin's formative experiences with his mother. But he took it stoically with some obvious discomfort on his face. Chrissy, meanwhile, left him lying on the wet nappy as she hunted around in the nursery for a fresh nappy, some plastic pants, the wipes and powder. She pulled away the wet nappy, cleaned Marvin with the wipes and rubbed in the powder.

    She played with his shrivelled sex, tugged at it contemptuously, and slapped it slightly. "Some little girl you are!" she laughed, as she pulled the nappy around him, pinned it up, and pulled on the plastic pants. "There, all done, my little Boo-boo," she giggled, giving him one more slap for luck as he crawled away.

    Chrissy's attention turned to Nikki. "Now you too, little Nikki," she giggled. But Nikki, who had been lying there, did not move.

    "You little monkey!" said Chrissy as she walked up to Nikki to check her nappy, just as she had checked Marvin's. But Nikki just rolled herself up into a ball. Chrissy was still able to determine that Nikki's nappy was also quite soaked. "Nikki's wet her nappy too!" gasped Chrissy.

    But Nikki's response was just to raise her head from the foetal position she was in and stick her tongue out at Chrissy. "You naughty girl!" cried Chrissy. She picked up Nikki, laid he across her knees, roughly pulled down her nappy to expose her bare bottom, and started to spank Nikki hard, as she struggled. At about 5 spanks, tears were streaming down Nikki's cheeks, and it was time to act.

    I made my hurried return. Chrissy continued spanking, and I managed to unlock the door and get in without being noticed, and was standing behind Chrissy as she saw my babies stare at her, and she turned around uncertainly, saw me, and dropped her jaw open.

    "M-M-M-Mrs Wright!" she stammered. "Nikki was b-b-being naughty!"

    Nikki cried out through her tears, "Mummy!". She quickly crawled over to me and hugged my legs tightly. I picked her up and soothed her. "There, there, sweetie. Mummy's here now," as I jogged and cuddled her, and her sobs became quieter. She coldly pointed at Chrissy, as she snivelled.

    "Now what is the meaning of this, Chrissy?" I asked sternly. Chrissy hung her head. "Maybe you are not mature enough for babysitting," I said. "Perhaps you would like to join my babies in the playpen!"

    At this, Chrissy flushed, and looked up. "I'm not a baby!" she said angrily.

    "Oh no?" I said calmly. "Maybe I'd better show these to your mother." It was a few purple tablets I had retrieved from her purse. Chrissy goggled at the pills in shock and panic, and made a grab for them, but I was too quick. "Please don't tell my Mum!" she pleaded.

    "Well, I might show them to the police!" I said. I took them away and secured them in a drawer with a combination lock. "Now, you will comply, won't you, Chrissy?" Chrissy lowered her head again glumly. I left Nikki sitting on the table as I led Chrissy into the nursery. My babies couldn't see, but chuckled with wonderment. I told her to take her shoes and socks off.

    "Now off with those jeans," I said, and Chrissy peeled them off very slowly. "Now the tee-shirt." I ordered, as Chrissy pulled it over her head and tossed it with the jeans, which I picked up and folded. I went behind Chrissy and undid her bra strap, and had her hold her arms out to take it off. Now just in her panties, I told her to lie down on the change table.

    I pulled off her panties and wiped and powdered her, then slid a clean terry nappy underneath her. As I pinned it up, she whispered anxiously, "You won't tell Mum, will you?"

    "Not if you are a good girl," I said soothingly, as I pulled on her plastic pants. I let her pad around in the nappy while I looked for a dress, settling on a gorgeous pink satin number with puffed sleeves and a bunny on the front.

    "It feels strange," she said. "Nice." I smiled and pulled the satin dress up her arms, and secured the buttons at the back. Then I led her back into the front room.

    "Nikki and Samantha, here's your new playmate, Chrissy," I said, and Chrissy went to sit with them self-consciously.

    "Hewwo Chrissy," said Nikki sweetly. Marvin just smiled, but Chrissy blushed the deepest crimson.

    "Now it's time for your bottles," I said. "Oh my! Three bottles now!" I filled the bottles with their favourite new-born formula and handed them out.

    Chrissy had been wanting a toilet anyway, but as she started drinking the bottle, it added intolerable pressure to her bladder.

    "Mrs Wright, c-c-can I go to the toilet please?" asked Chrissy.

    "No, Chrissy, that's what your nappy is for," I said. Once again Chrissy blushed. Then she let the flood out into her nappy, as we watched her face intently, and she reacted to the creeping warm and wet feeling in her crotch.

    "Wow-wow-wow-weird!" she said, not wanting to let on that she was enjoying the tingling. We all smiled. Nikki gave Chrissy a dummy to suck and a teddy to cuddle, which she did, and lay down in her wet nappy.

    After about an hour, I relented, and invited Chrissy back into the nursery to get dressed in the jeans and tee-shirt again.

    Once again we emerged and Chrissy spoke up, "er, Mrs Wright, can I have my ,,, things back now?"

    "I'm sorry Chrissy, no... But I will not tell anybody about it for now. Maybe you'd like to come back and babysit again some day?"

    She brightened. "Yes! I promise I wouldn't do anything bad to Nikki and Samantha, ever again."

    I smiled, and Nikki and Samantha smiled. And that's how it worked out. Chrissy would often come to babysit after that, and she was never any trouble. Sometimes I would get back early, and she would sometimes even ask to get into a nappy and the baby gear again on those occasions.

    And we all lived happily ever after.

    THE END.

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