Les Lea

It’s my job 4 In the hope of keeping you interested I suppose I could tell you a litany of horror stories that my customers subjected me to, thankfully they were few and far between. Steve had a particularly keen sixth sense when it came to any possible trouble and, as I’ve mentioned before, not averse to using his thuggishness to intimidate or get what he wanted. I have to say that this only applied to any punter who was abusing any of his ‘boys’. No, I wasn’t his only one. He had several other ‘escorts’ who he would supply to his rich and demanding clientele but he looked out for us all. Having said that, if one of us got a bad review or he heard back about an attitude problem, you were let go and never used again. He insisted on a degree of good looks, great attitude, pliability and willingness to try new things… he had around ten other ‘boys’ as well as me but as far as I knew, I was the only one doing ABDL. Steve was a clever operator and I suppose it was his charm, and the promise of loads of cash, that got us ‘boys’ to work for him (or as in my case into his bed first). Being a former ‘model and masseur’ himself he knew a lot of people and his connections made it easy for him to build up a high-grade stable of working boys and well-heeled customers. It wasn’t only men who paid for our services. Far from it, as one of Steve’s chosen operators you were expected to be able to perform your required duties for everyone and anyone. If you were gay (like me) and really found it difficult to service any female customers he only sent you to the work where sex was not the main task. Thus I ended up at Doctor Jasmin Bernfelt’s apartment early one winter’s evening. Steve’s instructions were simple, the doctor had booked me for a week and during that time I was not to speak. I could gurgle, smile and make baby noises but under no circumstances were I to utter any ‘proper’ words. This he knew would be a trial but, as I’d be with her every minute of every day, it was imperative to her that I behave as a baby. At first I thought Steve must have been nuts to agree to such terms and even nuttier to think I could carry it off. How the hell can a grown man (well that’s what I liked to think I was) not speak for a week. More importantly, what if something happened, or she did something I didn’t like or, and this seemed more probable, I simply forgot… what then? Steve then showed me the fee that was promised but only on condition that I fulfilled every aspect of the contract. “The entire week will be recorded on camera; every move you make… every sound you utter… every change of diaper…every wipe of your…” he left the obvious embarrassing parts of the contract unsaid but I knew what was expected. “Do you think I can actually do this?” I looked doubtfully at Steve. “It’s a huge project and, what if I fail?” Steve didn’t shy from his response, “We… I mean you… only get a tenth of the fee. She’s doing this as part of her research, although I suspect that there’s more to it than that. However, I have a video link that I can tap into as and when I want… so I’ll be keeping a watchful eye on you.” He seemed to think this was enough to reassure me… it wasn’t and I had an uneasy feeling about my ability to be a baby for more than a couple of hours. Steve once again just waved the fee in front of my eyes and said that this was a challenge I couldn’t turn down. By the end of another heavy (and scream inducing) persuasive session in his bed I’d agreed to every part of the deal. I didn’t know at the time that he’d already approved the doctor’s demands. The contract stated that I was to appear hairless (apart from the hair on my head, which Steve had taken care of when I became ‘L’il Babee Markee’) and be delivered to her apartment naked… she would provide everything else. I didn’t like the idea of being completely naked in public so Steve re-negotiated that I could wear a diaper but, and she was adamant “…absolutely nothing else”. I felt stupid travelling to my client dressed only in a diaper. Steve had told me to use a pacifier if I thought I wanted to speak. This, he argued, would stop me from chatting and also act as a reminder of my role in all this. I was to be loving, courteous and more importantly, responsive to all and everything she wanted from me. I was her dependent little baby, and, Steve grinned at me: “The possible star of some research project that might have ‘global’ implications”. I think it was him who saw dollar signs rather than me but he was very upbeat about the entire endeavour. He took me to her door, set a blanket down on the step outside, sat me on it and had me clutching a large pink teddy bear. He rang the bell, winked, told me to be a ‘good baby’, as I nervously watched him walk away and disappear before the door was answered. I felt really stupid and, I have to say, vulnerable waiting, thankfully I had my bear to cuddle and surprisingly, that helped. After a few minutes Doctor Jasmin Bernfelt opened the door, looked down at her new arrival, held out her hand, which I tentatively reached for, and was soon guided, on my hands and knees, into her apartment. Dressed only in my thick diaper (Steve had been very thorough), clutching my pink bear and sucking on a paci I entered the place that was to be my ‘work space’ for the next seven days. I had to rid myself of any normal thoughts and try and find an area in my subconscious and consciousness where I could be a baby for the doctor. In truth, my 20 years of life (my birthday had only recently passed) had given me no real grounding in how to handle people. I prided myself that I was a nice guy, easy going and not quick to judge but that opinion was mine alone, I had nothing to base it on. Why she’d particularly sought out Steve’s organisation to provide her with a subject I was never to know but he liked the idea that perhaps she’d heard of me from a previous client or perhaps had seen my profile on one of the various sites he now used to promote his business. After all ‘L’il Babee Markee’ was now our business. Thank god for the paci as it gave me time to take in my surroundings and the woman I’d be spending a great deal of time with. The doctor was in her late forties and appeared very experienced at what she did. This, she’d told Steve, was a research project that she intended presenting as part of a further, far-reaching piece of work on the ‘Psychiatry on the regressive mind’. The place was set out like a nursery, everything in pale pastel shades, mainly pink but with soft blues and greens. It had a very relaxing ambiance with areas set aside for play, sleep, feeding and changing. The place had cameras everywhere and I’d been warned by Steve that they would be on 24/7 but to try and ignore them as they may inhibit me from playing my part. In fact he’d told me to ignore everything except the doctor, she was to be my sole focus and keeping her happy was paramount. “Now Markee,” the show was starting, “Let’s get my cute little baby out of his wet diaper and into something more comfortable.” I wasn’t wet but realised that the diaper I was wearing was not something she’d supplied so was to be rid of it. She led me over to the changing area and, with hardly any effort on her part, lifted me up onto the counter top where she lay me down. I really was just a little baby in her hands. The plastic mat was soft and rather pleasant under my skin and I enthusiastically sucked on my paci as she started to pull apart the tapes. My enthusiasm was to cover that first moment of awkwardness because being naked in front of any woman was, for me at least, disconcerting. I noticed the camera in the ceiling above me pointing down onto the changing mat and inwardly stopped myself from showing a grimace. As she wiped, checked and prepared the area I was desperately trying not to let my cock react to her gentle, motherly touch. I had wondered if this might be a problem. For some of my previous clients, this had been a bonus but for others it had been the last thing they’d wanted to see. The doctor was one of the latter and had come up with a solution. Once she’d ensured that I was clean and thoroughly hairless ‘down there’ she produced a bag of ice and pressed it against my genitals. That deep suck on my paci hid the yelp of surprise that travelled up my groin and into my brain. Any rampant hormones that might have led to me getting a stiffy were quickly frozen as, once she thought it had shrunk to as small as it was going to get, she fastened a little metal cage around it all and locked it into place. “There my little sweetheart,” she beamed, “All safe and secure.” She slipped the key into her pocket, “We won’t have to worry about that now will we? No we won’t… no we won’t. My little baby is well protected from that causing any trouble or getting in the way.” She made noises that I suspect she'd used on babies in the past but I could only think that I'd just lost a part of me and wasn’t happy about it, although I knew I had to respond in some way. Whether to cry at losing this most important aspect of me, or giggle and smile and pretend it didn’t matter? I wasn’t sure what might be for the best but opted for the ‘it doesn’t matter’ giggle. After all, I figured, a baby wouldn’t realise what had just happened. Now I’ve had this ‘chastity’ type of device fitted in the past but only for a couple of hours or so and could cope with that. However, I had no idea how long the doctor intended to keep me so secure and that was a worry that hung in my mind. Throughout the entire procedure she had spoken in encouraging baby-talk; saying what a good baby I was and what a sweet temperament I had. Once the cage had been attached and my penis was no longer an issue she powdered the area and grabbed a thick pink disposable, which she fitted in place. This was followed by a pair of heavy pink rubber pants, which were all held in place by a pink onesie that snapped into place under my crotch. She removed my paci and substituted another, much larger pink one, which she called a ‘dum-dum’ and tasted different to the one I’d been happily sucking on. Once again she effortlessly lifted and placed me on the floor so that I could crawl over to the play area where a bunch of toys were piled up ready for me to enjoy. Despite the fullness of the diaper I was aware of the cage, which I assumed was there as a cruel and constant reminder of my status - that of a weak and dependant baby. At my age keeping my libido under any kind of wraps was going to be difficult because it had been my blossoming sexuality that had partly driven me into this business in the first place. Now, because I was unable to get hard, that’s all my dick seemed to want to do and the frustration, even in those first few hours, proved to be difficult. I knew I had to get my thoughts into a different zone or I would drive myself mad. I thought of those early dates with Daddy Hadley and how we’d learned to play together. How I had to learn a different approach that involved an unspoken but active way of communicating. Though at least with Daddy Hadley I could murmur some babyish words but these had been denied me on this assignment. I had an idea… perhaps that’s how this experience should be confronted… pretend I was being interrogated by the enemy and my entire platoon’s survival was dependent on me not breaking or saying anything. However, when she picked me up, pulled open the front of her dress and made me suckle, that tactic went clean out of the window. At first I was horrified but she was so sweet and encouraging, rocking me in her arms, murmuring sweet babyish nothings and stroking my diapered bottom, that eventually I got the hang of it. I was expecting a rush of milk but alas none was forthcoming and my sucking was more for effect than achievement. Later it was replaced by a baby’s bottle of formula, which I’d tasted many times before and could just about stand in small amounts. However, one bottle followed another and by the time she’d finished I’d had four of the damn things. She burped me and, thanks to the amount of liquid consumed and perhaps unsurprisingly the wind brought up some excess milk that erupted down her back. Not a huge amount but enough that I felt really ashamed but she took in her stride. She wiped it up, wiped my face, told me what a clever little baby I was and lay me down in a crib. I wasn’t sure if this was now night time and I was to sleep or if she’d just put me there for her to have a break. However, I closed my eyes and, sucking wildly on my dum-dum, found it easy to drift off. There were no clocks in the room and the windows were all covered so I didn’t know the time and I couldn’t gauge whether it was night or day but she woke me up by rubbing my tummy. I wished I’d done some kind of research into what babies do as I had no idea how to react, although I found her circular movements very pleasing and oddly enough quite relaxing. All the time her hand made those soft, clockwise actions she spoke to me as if I was indeed her little baby. I yawned and my dum-dum fell out so she quickly replaced it with her little finger and I found myself sucking on that. She picked me up and carried me to an armchair where, still holding firmly, she settled herself down. On a small table at the side were a couple more bottles and I dreaded being given even more formula. However, I made it difficult for her to put the teat in my mouth as I stretched and wriggled as if I wanted to go and play. She held on tightly and kept saying in babyish language that I could go and play once I’d finished my milk. OK, I understood milk was a damn sight better than formula so I eventually let her slip the rubber teat between my lips. That first suck was tempered by the fact that she had slid her finger up between the onesie and the rubber pants to check if I was wet. I knew I wasn’t because I’d been holding it in like mad since she’d woken me up. She didn’t seem to mind as she continued to pet me while I sucked down the two bottles of warm milk she had provided… but by the end I really did need to pee. I didn’t want to go whilst sitting on her lap so held off until she had placed me by the toys and I could do it without feeling guilty. My caged cock had been trying to expand for some time and I was painfully aware of the discomfort I would feel if I stored up my bladder and didn’t just let it flow ‘as and when’. I was focused on playing with some dolls and stuffed animals when I eventually gave up and just let go. The warm damp patch flooded between my legs and, as the flow continued I could feel my diaper expanding to cope with it all. I was sure the doctor knew what I’d done but left me to play in my wet diaper until she was ready to change me, which as it turned out was just as well because only a few minutes later my bowels added to the mess. Everything appeared well contained in my protection but it felt really uncomfortable. I continued playing hoping that she would notice my bulging diaper but she let me carry on crawling around and sitting in my uncomfortable mess. It took nearly an hour before she changed me and I thought she was being unnecessarily cruel to her ‘little poppet’. It was only when my miserable looks turned to actual crying that she came and sorted out my soggy diaper. I have to say that, despite being worried about the fact of being able to carry this role off, she was holding her end up admirably. Not once did she treat me as anything but a baby and I found myself responding to both our characters. When she changed or clothed me she was all smiles, laughter and playfulness and I was really unaware of just what it was I was being dressed in unless she was making a point of some lovely little bunny, animal or cartoon character that was on it. She seemed to like pink so most of the stuff I wore was that color and ranged from footed onesies, short onesies, plastic and rubber pants, diapers, coveralls and… dresses. It was all very cute and I suppose by wearing a little dress it made access easier when I needed a change and it was another thing that I was surprised just how quickly I got used to it. Although I had to be on my guard against ruining the situation by forgetting my role, I have to say that we had a fantastic time playing together. She was fun and inventive and certainly taught me what it means to be a baby… and a mommy. She was always there. I suspect that she slept when I did but if I was awake, so was she. I’d be put down for a nap in my crib and I was always astounded, once I had the dum-dum in my mouth how easy it was to snooze. I stopped worrying about wetting and messing and just did it. I stopped thinking about my caged cock and took no notice when she changed my diaper. I got excited when she slipped a new, silky cover over my diaper and I’d sit amongst my toys (yes MY toys) playing and loving the attention. * Because I was not aware of time, I had no idea how long I’d been there every meal and diaper change just melded into my day. Even when I didn’t think the doctor was looking (sometimes she was busy typing stuff into her laptop) I’d be more than happy crawling around, hiding in boxes, building bricks up as high as I could and giggling insanely when they fell down. Mommy (although I didn’t call her that it was what she called herself when she spoke to me) was always there being supportive, encouraging and… loving. I giggled a lot because we had fun. It was something I might not have expected at the beginning but I had so easily lost my reservations and fell into being someone's baby. Being looked after 24/7 was wonderful and the doctor was very good at it. I was enjoying every aspect; the closeness, the intimacy, the sheer joy we appeared to give each other... I loved being that dependable on someone else who so obviously loved me. One afternoon, after I’d been fed, had my nap and was wet through, she picked me up, checked my diaper and said our time was up. I wasn’t really thinking at the time and I didn’t appreciate exactly what it was she was saying. As she changed my diaper for the last time and I was able to talk, what did I do? I burst into tears and cried my eyes out. I didn’t want to stop this, this… project. I was happy with my position. For the first time in a week she unlocked my cage… I stayed small and innocent. I had arrived with no other clothes except a diaper so I couldn’t wear anything else. She powdered thoroughly, like she had done on so many occasions and slipped me into a huge fluffy disposable, then pulled the silky cover over it all. She asked me what I’d like to wear and, still through tear-filled eyes, trembled because I was used to someone else making those kinds of decisions. She picked up a onesie, it was pink with a teddy bear on the front, and she also seemed to be having more difficulty deciding. She held up a footed onesie and the little pink satin dress I’d worn. I think she was really keen on that but in the end decided on a pale blue short coverall with a duck on the bib. We were both quite weepy as she fastened the press-studs under my crotch and, despite the fact that my assignment was all over, I was still dressed like a little kid and I didn't mind in the least. When she handed me my pink bear I hugged it close and wondered if I'd see her ever again. A bell rang, which I hadn’t heard since I’d arrived, and she guided me the door. I hugged her tightly and saw, like me, she had tears in her eyes. It was strange but I really didn’t want to leave. I know it had been a strange experience but it had also been incredibly memorable and in some way I just didn’t want it to end. The door opened and there was Steve, he looked a little surprised to see how fiercely I clutched onto the doctor but eventually cajoled me into going with him. I was still crawling so he picked me up and I felt that the first thing he did was check and pat my padded bottom. He seemed to appreciate what I’d been through and didn’t make any kind of comment about the way I was dressed. He took me back to his place and I miserably crawled around his room for a while. I saw him check his computer and said that the full fee had been paid and that he was very proud of me. It meant absolutely nothing that I was now several thousand better off I just sat in my diaper in the middle of the floor lost without my ‘mommy’ or my toys. Over the next couple of days Steve gently managed to coax me back but, for a little while at least, he let ‘L’il Babee Markee’ have a break. He thought it was best if I got back into my ‘normal’ clientele and within days I was out servicing the rich and powerful of our city. However, every opportunity I got when I was alone I'd find my diaper and plastic pants and try and relive that short time I spent as a baby. ****tbc****

It’s My Job 3 I saw Mr Hadley on a further five occasions. He’d changed to a much more relaxed person who just wanted to be with someone. Despite being so much younger I realised that he was a man who had a load of love to give but didn’t really know how to channel it. For some reason it had developed into this ‘baby fetish’, possibly some need to feel responsible and loved, but, as Steve constantly told me, “Don’t put people into a boxes – everyone is different and everyone has their own special wants and desires”. Over the few visits I had to Mr Hadley (I called him Daddy from my second visit) he changed into something more than just an observer; he played and got involved in my babyish games. He still wanted a baby boy to look after but he was no longer detached from what was going on and seemed to really like what I did for him. Indeed, Steve said that he was constantly being called by Mr Hadley who never stopped singing my praise. When we met, I was happy to go along with everything he required. He acquired some really nice baby clothing, that he appeared to have had made especially, and took great delight in dressing me up in it all. He was never happier than when I was wearing a thick diaper, which he would take every opportunity to pat and fondle, and I learned to mess, cry, giggle, hug and cuddle when necessary. It wasn’t difficult because I went out of my way to try and please him. He was a gentle soul, generous and had few things he appeared to have faith in however, his little baby boy, even for only a few hours, was the one thing he had no doubt about. A baby like me was the welcome surprise he needed; someone who accepted him for him, weird or not he wasn’t being judged. He was, for those few hours, my daddy who I knew loved me and I loved him. I’ve just read all that back and it seems that I am either bigging myself up or making excuses for Mr Hadley. I’m sorry if that is the case because that’s not what I wanted to do but you do get to know your clients and, if they are regulars, you do get a rapport going. Some men don’t want anything more than ‘wham-bam thank you man’ and as soon as they’ve cum, you’ve gone. I can understand that but when you do get something special, it’s just that, special. Mr Hadley was special but it all came to an end when I arrived at Steve’s place and there was a huge box addressed to ‘Baby’. Steve seemed to know immediately who it was from but he left it for me to open. It had all the baby clothes, toys and stuff that we’d used during our time together. There was a letter of thanks and a banker’s check for $1000. It appeared our time together had come to an end but I didn’t know why. Steve didn’t know, or if he did, he wasn’t saying and I felt really sad that our time together had finished. Ever the businessman Steve looked at the clothes that he had sent and said that there were plenty more men who would appreciate seeing me in some of those things. I was still feeling a little down so didn’t appreciate what he was saying until he had pulled out a couple of diapers and told me to strip. Minutes later I was wrapped in the diapers, rubber pants and onesie and Steve was taking more photos for the ‘portfolio’. “You’ll have them all wetting themselves when they see these,” he gleefully promised. He said that my sad, babyish look would only add to my fee once they started asking for ‘L’il Babee Markee’. I had a new name and a new image and I was very surprised at just how quickly the offers came in and just how popular having an AB to play with was. Once again Steve showed just what a hot entrepreneur he was as the images of me dressed in those special outfits went viral. Over the next few days he was inundated with offers. ‘L’il Babee Markee’ was very marketable and photo sets exchanged hands as well as ‘opportunities’ for me to be someone’s ideal baby… at ridiculous rates. I was very nervous about this turn of events and although I’d been happy with what I was able to do with Mr Hadley, I worried that there would be some really weird people ‘out there’ who weren’t as nice. I was concerned about my safety and other client’s expectations but, after another wild afternoon session with a very virile and demanding Steve, I saw where my future lay and that was with me accepting ‘toddler’ status. Later, with my body still buzzing after his attention Steve did two things: He brought it down to simple finance and said how much I would earn per session and made it clear that I was a brand name so my desirability would go through the roof. He also suggested that Mr Hadley would be proud to know that his little baby was wanted by so many… a sort of ‘Daddy Legacy’. Steve was very persuasive. I still had my occasional other clients but Steve wanted me to concentrate on this more lucrative venture. I wasn’t overly happy about being a baby all the time and actually longed for the ‘straight’ sex sessions instead of my having to dress up. However, ‘L’il Babee Markee’ did attract a growing number of ‘admirers’ and pretty soon I was discovered by one client as a ‘foundling’ in a wooded glade. I was wearing just a thin, soft cotton diaper, sucking (and crying) on a paci and wrapped in a fleecy blanket. I thought this was just too much but later, when I saw the amount Steve had charged for this little piece of theater, I saw why he was so keen we went down this route. My most recent client was ‘Daddy Melrose’, he wanted me permanently and tried to hypnotise me to become his acquiescent little boy. I saw my job as being submissive and compliant to what was expected of me so he had no real need to force me into doing things, I was happy to do them, but I think he felt he needed more control. It started off OK but the items of special clothing he got me to wear became more bizarre and restricting. There aren’t many chances for running away when you have a butt plug inserted, your cock is trapped in a small restrictive cage, you are in several pairs of ultra-thick disposables, a tight-fitting rubber onesie and have leather reins buckled around your chest which your ‘daddy’ is keeping very tight hold of indeed. A thick, ball-gag style paci was strapped into my mouth and all I could do was basically crawl wherever he wanted me to go or just sit at his feet in this cramp-inducing outfit. Of course he’d plied me with drink beforehand so I was both desperate to piss, which I did continually and take a dump, which I couldn’t do because of the plug. He kept putting on these videos of men being regressed back to their childhoods and obviously thought I’d be easy to influence. I did feel my will slipping on occasions, he probably drugged the drink to make it easier, and I’m sure that without Steve’s early intervention, I might well now be some rubber baby – property of Daddy Melrose. When I hadn’t checked in with Steve, at a time we’d arranged, the alarm bells had gone off. Even though Mr Melrose had been an occasional user of Steve agency, being rich and powerful and all, he wasn’t as well-known to Steve as perhaps he should have been (thus the need for a call). He tracked me down, kicked in a few doors and confronted the manipulative daddy who seemed surprised at being disturbed in this way. Once he realised Steve’s anger was real he was all apologetic and desperate to fend off the beating he was taking from my irate manager. Steve took photos, made him transfer some extra fee (for my inconvenience and his time) before issuing a dire warning to the scared and pathetic looking would-be Daddy. However, Steve didn’t release me from my rubber outfit he just bungled me into his car and didn’t let me loose until we arrived back at his place. I was still a bit woozy but he admitted later that night how he’d found the entire sex scene “Such a fucking turn on”. He even joked about how much more of a baby I looked when I’d been drugged and a little spaced out. More photos and no doubt he had another stream of finance coming in. As he slowly unravelled me from my ‘costume’ he apologised and said he would never let me get into harm’s way again… although he guessed I’d have a completely different lifestyle if Daddy Melrose had succeeded. First came out the gag but again I was too out of it to make much sense. He unbuckled the reins, unzipped me from the tight rubber onesie and eased me from it. Never one to miss an opportunity he took more photographs at each part of the process and once down to the huge amount of soaked padding he carried me into his bathroom for the final removal. It all seemed to be packed tightly into a huge pair of rubber pants but Steve battled on regardless. With some difficulty he eased them down and un-taped the multilayers of diapers (yes, stopping for more photos) and was happily surprised to find my cock straining against a small, locked cage. He left that for a moment and began to wipe me down. I moaned and he suddenly realised that there must be something else and noticed the black object inserted ‘where the sun don’t shine’. He began to pull on it but my moaning got worse and I think he got the idea that perhaps that wasn’t a good idea. I was sat naked in his bath at this time with my cock in a cage and a dildo or something large shoved up my butt and I desperately needed to take a dump. He manoeuvred me onto all fours, grabbed the black object and told me to push at the same time. It came out on the second tug and we were both immediately covered in an almighty deluge of shit… I suppose Daddy Melrose had the last laugh. ***tbc***

It’s my job 2 Telling you about my clients is perhaps a bit naughty, although I have changed their names as a sort of safeguard. However, it seems only fair if I’m going to discuss others I should tell you a bit about myself. I’m 19, 5’5” tall, short blond hair and have a tight little body and I got into this business quite by accident a few months ago. At the time, I had just left school with reasonable grades but like so many others had no job. However, I was determined to keep up the fitness regime that I’d started as a student and as I couldn’t afford a gym membership, got my exercise from pounding the streets. As I was standing on a dark street one night getting my breath back after a particular frantic piece of jogging a car pulled up alongside me. To cut a long story short, I was propositioned and, as the guy was young and good-looking, I agreed. However, that night I did things, exciting things, painful things, weirdly wonderful things I’d never done before but the handful of bills that I walked away with meant I could at least pay my way for a few more days. The guy who had introduced me to this incredible sex life ran an escort service and, after our session, had asked if I’d like to make more money. I immediately said “No thanks” wondering why anyone would want to be an ‘escort’, wasn’t that demeaning, disgusting and dangerous? However, he’d given me his card and a couple of days later I was calling him back and setting up a meeting. Following another afternoon session, and nonstop compliments from him and about how much money I could make, I was intrigued enough to say “OK, let’s give it a trial.” So, that was the start. Steve, the guy who was now I suppose my pimp, although he preferred the term ‘manager’, introduced me slowly to his clientele, some high-end customers who appreciated my ‘tight little body and butt’ and before I knew it I was making quite a substantial amount. I was still living at home at the time, and found excuses to explain to my parents the strange hours I was now keeping, but they saw I was happy and never questioned what exactly I got up to. Steve told me that he only dealt with classy men, men with money and taste and who he would trust not to swindle or abuse me. However, he added with a glint in his eye, people like different things. He opened his rather large closet and showed me what was on display. Lots of leather, rubber, plastic and a cupboard full of whips, dildos, chains and stuff like that. That afternoon he dressed me up in different outfits; young kid, choirboy, schoolboy athlete, tenement toughie… er… even a baby (I baulked at wearing a diaper and stuff but Steve said there was big money in it if I just played along), and several other different ‘looks’. I wasn’t all that bothered about dressing up, I thought that all a customer would want is to get me naked and for him to cum in or over me. Steve told me it took all sorts and a bit of gift wrapping often helped. I found that comment to be very true. My fourth customer was Mr Hadley. Apparently, he’d seen my photo on the company portfolio (Steve had taken loads of them on our last session and liked them so much he immediately put them online) and liked the ones of me dressed as a baby. My small stature was of course a huge bonus and as I tentatively went off to meet him I had no idea what would be expected from me. The only instruction I had received from Steve was that my ‘client’ would prefer it if I didn’t speak except in baby-talk or baby noises and gurgles. I arrived at the door of a very nice apartment and knocked. It was answered by a man, aged about fifty or sixty who stood at the door and literally towered over me. He smiled, obviously I was just what he ordered, and I shyly said “Hewoo Mister,” and looked down and shuffled my feet as if I was nervous, which I was. “Ohh, you’re a sweet little thing aren’t you,” I don’t think he wanted an answer. “We’d better get you inside and all warmed up.” That was the start of a two hour session where Mr Hadley gave me a warm bath, washed then dried me with a huge towel with a baby duck on it and took great pleasure in sprinkling baby powder all over my body. Once that was all rubbed in to his satisfaction, he placed a pacifier in my mouth and proceeded to get me ready. I sucked on my paci as he fluffed out a disposable diaper, inserted a couple of thick pads and pushed it under my bum. He took his time, and what seemed a great deal of pleasure, from spreading my legs wide so he could pull this monstrosity up between them. Once it appeared to his satisfaction he pulled the tapes tightly and stood back to admire the view. “Mmmm. I think we might need a bit more,” he said to himself and repeated the procedure with a second disposable. My legs were spread wider and I dreaded that this bit of the process might not yet be finished. He appeared to like the results and picked me up and placed me on the floor. “Go and play with your toys while daddy does some work.” And I was placed in a corner of the room with a blue plastic mat and a box of different toys. I pulled out a stuffed tiger and hugged it close. I knew he would be watching me so I wanted to be the best damned baby he’d ever had. As I played with it I gurgled eagerly and bounced it up and down. Strangely enough, I found that bouncing like that whilst wearing such a thick diaper was really rather pleasant so I checked what other toys were available. I kept my well–padded butt facing him as I understood this was what he liked to appreciate most and I was pleased to see him ‘rearranging’ himself as I crawled about. I tipped out the box and searched through the toys and found rockets and spacemen and dolls and puzzles. I thought I’d give the puzzles a miss; a six-piece jigsaw wasn’t really all that challenging. However, I left it out with one piece missing as I had an idea. For ten minutes I found my imagination taking over and, even with a paci in my mouth, I played like I hadn’t done for many years. It was fun and I could see Mr Hadley smile as I did certain things, especially if I was getting excited about something. As I moved about on the plastic mat I really had no option but to waddle and crawl so, when he called me over, that’s what I did. “My, what a sweet baby you are.” He cooed and smiled as he patted my huge padded butt. “Let’s get some din-dins for my ickle boyzy.” He’d made a baby bottle full of warm milk so he hitched me up onto his lap and made sure I was snug in the crook of his arm before proceeding to feed me. I hadn’t negotiated a nipple for some time (well not to extract milk) and it took a couple of attempts to get the rhythm right. However, his persistence, and my eagerness to please, meant that he had me sucking away happily fairly quickly. Whilst I drank he kept telling me to fill my nappy. I wasn’t that keen on doing so but with a bit of perseverance I managed to force out a few spurts of pee and at the same time accidently broke wind, which seemed to signal a call to action for him. I was laid out, slowly unwrapped from my padding and checked. “Who’s a good boy? Yes you are.” He looked at the slightly damp diaper and seemed to conclude that it wasn’t wet enough as he reapplied everything but not before rubbing some lotion into the required area. I fought valiantly not to be aroused by this manipulation as I thought it wouldn’t be how a baby reacts. However, once everything had been spread around, front and back, to his satisfaction and I’d been taped tightly back into the thick diapers, he found a pair of plastic pants to pull over it all. These were huge and colourful with blue cartoon figures all over them and he obviously thought I looked great in them as he bounced me up and down on his knee. I was worried I might fall off so I grabbed hold of him around his neck and snuggled my face against his shoulder. He wasn’t expecting that and he rocked me in that position for a short while before he said it was time to get me dressed properly. He placed me down on the plastic mat and went to a draw and pulled out a neatly folded onesie. It was pale blue, made of a shiny material and I could see his eyes light up at the prospect that soon I’d be wearing it. He told me to raise my hands, which I did, and he slowly unravelled the item of clothing, almost reverently, down my body. It was short sleeved and felt cool on my bare arms. It felt cool against my shoulders and chest as he continued to unfold it down my body and it felt slippery against my thighs as he pulled it up between my legs and popped the fasteners into place. It certainly was tight-fitting but equally emphasised the bulkiness of my protection as he got me to crawl around on the floor and resume my game. He took a couple of photos and, judging from the number of times he reached into his pants to rearrange himself, liked what he saw. However, the diaper had become a bit of an irritation for me and I was hoping that our session would soon be over. I goo-gooed, and ga-gaed and pretended I could not work out how to fit the last piece (of a six piece) jigsaw together and began to sob. He liked that. He came down and sat next to me on the mat and helped me fit it into the correct space. Once I’d got him there I kept passing him toys and stuff so that he had to play with me and join in rather than just watch. Pretty soon he was making silly car noises or whooshes as rockets set off just as I did. I shuffled around in my silky onesie and he just kept stroking me as and whenever he could. I quite liked the attention but the irritation in my diaper was getting worse and I couldn’t wait for our session to finish and I could be on my way. The problem was, he was now having fun playing with the toys and I couldn’t see a way out of it. He put in a call to Steve and requested a further hour, which I later learnt that he’d agreed to but at a slightly inflated fee, so I was going to be there for some time yet. The milk I’d drunk had an effect and it suddenly dawned on me that it might not just have been milk. My bowels gurgled and despite my best intentions I could hold the growing storm no longer. Once it started I was sure there was going to be no end to it. My diaper filled fast as I sat on then plastic mat unable to control anything. The frantic look on my face gave him a clear indication as to what was happening and he quickly found a paci and slipped it into my mouth. My stomach hurt and I hated Mr Hadley at that moment but remembered what Steve had said about being professional and to give the customer what they’d paid for… I started to cry. At that moment I wasn’t sure how much of the sobbing was real or acted, all I knew was that there was a mess in my pants and I wasn’t happy. Mr Hadley hugged me and said soothing words as my tears cascaded down my cheeks, which with a paci in my mouth must have made for a really good picture (he took another photograph) before he set about changing me. He slowly released me from the onesie, pulled off my plastic pants, which appeared to have helped contain the mess, though the smell was quite strong. However, as he peeled back the tabs and slowly examined the damage, the stink didn’t seem to worry him at all. In fact, he seemed overjoyed that I’d made this huge mess and slowly started to clean me up. As I lay out on the plastic mat he gave me a stuffed animal to hold whilst he got on with the major job of cleaning up baby. As I lay naked (except for my paci and stuffed toy) he went and retrieved a bowl of warm water, towels, wet wipes and a host of lotions and powders. For the next half hour or so he slowly and methodically cleaned, wiped and powdered every bit of my body. At one point I did notice that my fine pubic hair had disappeared and where it had once been, there was now a red blush (I supposed that’s what the cream he’d applied earlier had been for). I was a little bit angry that he’d done this without asking but it was hard to get too angry whilst you are holding a furry animal, have a paci in your mouth and magic fingers are creating incredible sensations to your body. He finished off by pulling a disposable up between my legs and making sure it fit snugly, then, like just about everyone does, he patted my bottom. His gentleness, and obvious delight in seeing me that way, made me shiver. He hugged me tightly and rubbed my padded bottom in appreciation, thanked me and said he hoped he’d see me again soon and pointed me towards the bedroom where I’d changed when I first arrived. I got dressed but I didn’t take off the diaper. Instead I walked back into the room holding my pants and let him watch me pull them over the protection he’d put me in. I wanted him to know that I would be wearing something from him for the foreseeable future. His eyes lit up as I zipped up. I handed him back his paci, gently kissed his cheek and said ‘bye-bye’. Walking away felt strange because of the thickness between my legs which was both a reminder of what we’d just done and a comfort… I wasn’t sure why. **tbc**

It’s my job Part 1 The sticky substance rolled down my back and over the ultra-tight, thin white plastic pants I was wearing. The gloopy mass had slowly slid from my head and, with the aid of gravity, eventually collected in a pool by my feet; it was that gradual descent that turned Bob on so much. He would watch fascinated as the yellow goo trickled and pooled, then, like a wave of lava, carry on its way to the final destination. My arse is one of my best features so that the thin, almost transparent, slippery material emphasised my hard-as-nails globes to their best effect. When the flow of the shiny, semi-liquid concoction completely covered my arse, I had to admit that the effect of my reflected image in the main mirror, which completely covered an entire wall, was quite stunning. Once he’d enjoyed the glossy sheen and appreciated that initial visual experience (there was also a lot of touching and stroking involved), armed with yet another bowl of custard, Bob would empty that over my head and watch yet another cavalcade of the sticky dessert drip onto my chest and slowly gather around the front of my bulging plastic shield. The wave of custard would separate around that projecting mound and rivulets of the sticky splurge would split up and trickle down each leg. He’d pour more custard so that the glossy bulge was covered and then position himself to let the occasional drip of the stuff fall into his waiting mouth; his tongue flicking wildly about in eager expectation. All the while, he’d be massaging custard into his erect cock barely hidden behind his own yellow, gloop-stained, diaper. Bob is one of my regulars. Once a month, for the past 9 months, he’d book me to indulge in his sticky fetish and, I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed these sessions. Some clients just want me naked and to get the deed over and done with as soon as possible. Some were guilty about what they were doing; some ashamed of hiring a rent boy to fulfil their needs, while others were on a deadline and just wanted a quick, no-nonsense shag. That is what I do and I am happy to do it while I can. I don’t moralise about what people want or ask me to do. In the main, they are the customer and what they want, and pay for, is what they get. Bob is quite well off. I believe he made loads of money when he was quite young and now, in his early 40s, lives off the proceeds. His penthouse apartment has an ultra-modern kitchen, two bedrooms and a huge living room that opens up onto a balcony, which overlooks the city. He has also converted his third bedroom into a ‘playroom’ and that’s where we get messy once a month. Kid’s TV would be proud of the amount of slimy sticky stuff he’s poured over the both of us in the times we’ve done this together. I am well paid for being the target of his slippery needs and it is great fun. He likes me to appear at his door dressed in suit and tie (and I’ve recently added a briefcase to complete the respectable young businessman look). He greets me dressed the same, it’s as if we are about to go into a high-powered business meeting, but that image only lasts a few moments as it is the removal of clothes, which are always neatly folded outside the play area, and the transformation into ‘sloshboys’(that is, guys who love messy fun), that gets him going. He supplies what he wants me to wear; sometimes I’m naked, other times I’ve had gumboots, a plastic apron, rubber shorts, a divers wet suit, although he mainly likes me in a tight-fitting diaper and plastic pants. Whatever he has a sudden thought about, he gets me to try and I love not knowing what it’s going to be next. He’ll also have all the substances he wants to use stacked around the room; I supply the body, a smile and no attitude. We laugh a lot as plates of food, tubs of mud, buckets of foam, paint, oil, porridge and his favourite… custard - you name it and it is probably in his repertoire of stuff that we launch over one and other. Sometimes he’ll walk up to me, pull at my shorts or underpants or diaper and drip a gallon of some sticky treacle or greasy gloop all over my arse, cock and balls. The stuff gets everywhere but at the end, and especially if the goo covering my arse is still slick and liquidy, he likes to rub himself off against my slippery butt cheeks. His cock has inevitably been hard from the moment I arrive, so when he does cum his copious orgasm is a flood, which is then rubbed into whatever it is he’s covered me in. He seems to derive as much fun from our sloshy antics as he does from cumming and he’s deliriously happy from start to finish. Afterwards we often sit facing each other, dressed in just our messy diapers, or sometimes pretty plastic pants and throw dollops of stuff to get us both even more plastered with it all. We giggle like big kids and perhaps strangely, we hug a lot and it has become something of a release for me, a release I didn’t know I needed, and always makes me feel better about… well, life. He always pays me more than we’ve agreed so, after we both take an innocent shower (the messy and sexy business is kept strictly for the fun room), I leave his place dressed in my suit and with no tell-tale signs of what we’ve just done and always a lot better off than when I arrived. He never asks me to clean up, he never demands anything other than messy fun, and the memory of this monthly event actually keeps me happy until the next time he calls. In fact, that one session with Bob could mean that I don’t have to work for the rest of the week… but I do… you can’t let your clients down can you? *tbc*

Thanks for your comments I'm glad you enjoyed the story. I hope it wasn't too traumatic for anyone? I deliberately left the ending open so that each reader could fill in their own epilogue should they desire.

Part 9 A call home to his mother in Poland had only confirmed what he already suspected, Amadei was still in diapers. His mother told him that his brother seemed happy enough but since his ‘breakdown’ had never really got his potty training back. She added brightly that although at times it seemed a burden, she at least had a son who loved her, even if he only had the mental age of a small child. As he spoke to her, for the first time Bronislav felt a shiver of guilt run down his spine. This was something he’d done and even without his influence, his younger brother was unable to grow up or even learn to use the toilet. No doubt the diaper manufacturers were grateful to him for the increase in sales and, as he looked at the piles and piles of disposables and other stuff mounting high in the nursery, he wondered for how much longer he could… or should continue. * Of course Charlie was as pleasurable as ever. There was no denying the fact that the adorable baby teenager was an absolute darling to have around. He enjoyed everything, had the sweetest nature, loved his Dada and looked brilliant in whatever he was dressed in. Kevvy was a different matter. He was aggressive, tightly wound, demanding, destructive, a total nightmare to feed and dress. Unless he was fastened into something he couldn’t undo, he would often strip off and run around naked, frequently peeing and shitting where he played. Spanking only worked for a short time so lockable plastic pants were the only solution to keep him in clothes and the nursery from becoming one giant toilet. Lockable rubber pants were just one of the items he was now kept in; a lockable romper suit, lockable onesies and lockable coverall were all added to his wardrobe. Once he was in he was fine but he fought his Daddy at almost every turn, which became very tiresome. His teenage bottom often glowed from the chastisement his Daddy had to mete out to get him to settle down or comply to his wishes. The only time he looked as cute as he had in those first couple of weeks was when he was asleep and cuddling his brother in their big new crib. His huge babyfying plastic pants rustling noisily as he ground ineffectually up against Charlie’s equally thick and slippery protection. * Despite Kevin being something of a nightmare there were times when he was still a little kid desperate for his Daddy’s love and protection. On a recent visit to a secluded beach both toddlers had loved being at the seaside and were excited to run around in the fresh sunny air in their tight shiny colourful plastic pants, which covered a thinner than normal disposable. They built sandcastles and splashed at the water’s edge. After they’d enjoyed a mushy but fun picnic, sucked juice from their bottles and generally behaved like the three year-olds they were, they eventually lay in the sun on their favourite blankies. Later, as Charlie built a huge building out of sand with arches and roads for his toy cars, Kevvy ran off to explore some rock pools further along the beach. He hadn’t waited for his Daddy to go with him and, as such, clambered over the rocks without supervision. As he’d been warned might happen if he ran off, he slipped on some seaweed and grazed his legs as he fell over the hard and jagged boulders. Despite being a toughie he cried because he was hurt and bleeding. Daddy, alarmed by the sudden cry from his boy, found him sobbing pathetically and clutching his slightly blood-streaked leg. “Doggie scared me,” his weeping toddler cried and gulped for air as another huge bawl of emotional distress escaped his body. A look around didn’t immediately identify the snarling, biting culprit but a small Jack Russell suddenly appeared from behind a rock, yelping playfully and wagging its tail with a bit of seaweed stuck in its mouth. It looked funny but the expression of fear on Kevvy’s face and the screech of absolute terror that he somehow emitted was no joking matter. He curled himself into a ball and shook not able to look the dog in the eye and appeared desperate for his Daddy to take action. Far off a woman’s voice called “Here Benny” and the small dog’s ears pricked up and on the second call, appeared to get its bearings and ran off to its mistress. At the same time Bronislav realised he had a moment so, at the same time the dog turned and scampered off, he shouted after it. “Don’t you scare my little boy like that again you naughty hound. Kevvy’s a good boy and you must never scare him again.” He hugged the boy, who sulked and blubbered in his Daddy’s embrace “There, there, you’re safe now. Daddy’s taken care of that naughty dog.” * He shooed the retreating animal before bending down and picking up the terrified toddler, carrying him back to their private picnic area and setting him down on the blanket. Charlie had no idea what had just happened but as always was empathetic to his brother’s distress and tried to soothe him with kind baby-talk. Kevvy’s crying got to quite a hysterical pitch as Daddy cleaned up his scraped leg, applied ointment and a bandage. The little fellow whimpered and continued to shake from his intimidating encounter. He looked completely beaten. Bronislav had never seen him so needy and was surprised that a small dog had sent him into such an alarming state. It looked like for the first time since he’d been regressed that Kevvy required Daddy’s protection and was thankful for it. His strong Daddy had banished the frightening animal and carried him to safety; he was very, very grateful. Kevvy’s disposable was soaked and Daddy was sure it was from peeing as well as the pool of sea water he’d fallen in, so, on a blanket on the beach, in the summer air, he wiped, powdered and slipped him into a fresh but thicker disposable. The huge sobs had been replaced by small whiney gulps of self-pity. His eyes were glassy and puffy with so many tears and he was now so dependent on Daddy he was like putty in his hands. * The scare had activated something in Kevvy’s mind that made him completely docile. There was no fight left in the boy just total acquiescence. So, seizing the opportunity Daddy pulled out another pair of plastic pants only this time they were pink and frilly and eased them up his little boy’s still trembling hairless legs. Normally Kevvy would create and squirm in protest but this time he just hugged tightly onto his Daddy’s neck allowing him to pull them over his diaper. The poor boy was so subdued and traumatized by his accident; he made no attempt to stop what was happening. Soon his Daddy had also put him in a lovely matching pink smock and sunhat, before settling him down to rest on his pink and blue bunny rabbit blankie. He looked so innocent and sweet so, smoothing out the huge pink bulge at the front, whilst patting his baby boy’s frilly padded bottom, his Daddy whispered soothing and loving encouragement for him go to sleep. His boy relaxed and yawned then rolled onto his side, his well-padded pink frilly plastic pants glistened in the sun. To complete the overall look, and help mollify his troubled brain, a pink paci was slipped between his lips making him the very picture of the sweet little baby his Daddy always wished him to be. As his brother dozed, Charlie whooped and laughed as he continued rushing to the water’s edge, scooping up some of the sea in his Winnie the Pooh bucket and rushing back to his wonderful sand construction. His Winnie the Pooh plastic pants shimmering in the sun and making him appear the happiest of all toddlers. * The incident of the dog had a major effect on Kevvy’s attitude. He no longer strayed far from either Daddy or his brother and, when in the crib together, it was Charlie who now snuggled to protect his scared and nervy little baby brother. There were also no arguments or disruption whilst being fed, what he was dressed in or where to play, what Daddy said or did was almost immediately done. If for any reason Kevvy started to act up, though it was a rare occurrence now, the sound of a dog barking fed through the nursery speakers would have an immediate effect. He’d come rushing to find Daddy and hide behind him until he was sure he’d shoo the deadly animal away or comfort him in his arms. Kevvy got more and more compliant but not in the joyous way Charlie was, he was far more terrified by the world around him. Daddy took complete advantage of his shy little baby boy and dressed him to reflect his new status. Diapers so thick he could only crawl around, babyish thick rubber covers or plastic pants that emphasised the mass of protection he was wearing. Rattles and the simplest of toys were given to him to play with, whilst his attachment to a certain stuffed giraffe, Charlie’s giraffe, seemed to become obsessive, he ventured nowhere without it, often with its ear firmly shoved in his mouth. His wardrobe had changed for a younger, more babyish look, so he was rarely out of his smocks. A whole host of more cute and childish designs were quickly installed into his daily apparel. The frilly coloured pants were regularly matched with an equally feminine frilly or lacy smock. Kevvy now looked, and was made to act, more like a one year-old, which surprisingly he slipped into with ease. Crawling around the nursery, his bulbous diaper wiggling as he moved was a joy for his Daddy to behold, especially as he appeared to be in no rush to get up and walk. Meanwhile, Charlie was dressed as a happy-go-lucky three, going on four, year-old wearing coveralls, shorts and onesies appropriate to his age. He looked after his baby brother who had grown over the months they’d been together to be slightly taller than him but, seeing as he was only allowed to crawl, it didn’t appear that much of a problem. * Another thing that Bronislav wanted to try was to see if he could get Charlie, who was now the more dominant one (if indeed Charlie could ever be described as such) to call his baby brother, his sister. His Daddy started calling Kevvy she and because he was now always dressed in more feminine clothes (even though he didn’t particularly look like a girl), he wondered if, through repetition and word enforcement, he could get Charlie to change the way he thought about him/her. To begin with the toddler was a bit confused by what his Daddy said but within days he’d begun to call him his sister, she and a little girl. Even though nothing had changed except the clothes, he readily adopted the idea that Kevvy was now his baby sister and as such needed special treatment because Daddy said little girls need loads of hugs and love. Charlie had never skimped in this department so would spend hours playing dolls with his new baby sister and treating her to special imaginary teas, surrounding her with her favourite stuffed animals, setting up house, kissing and cuddling her if she looked pouty or had wet herself. Charlie seemed to like having baby sister to look after. * Life at ‘Evergreen’ became easier and less fraught for all concerned. Daddy was enjoying his time with his ‘toys’ and the pleasure both little sweethearts delivered on a daily basis. He’d even found an out of town club, Iuvenili, where he could take them to mix with other ‘children’. Once there they were allowed to play with loads of other boys and girls of all ‘ages’, the one thing they all had in common was their loving Mommies or Daddies who doted on each one so kept them safe and snug in their diapers. Charlie loved playing with all these new friends and was an immediate hit with everyone. Kevvy was scared and much preferred to sit in her playpen with her dollies, animals, rattles and other baby toys sucking on her pacifier. All the member of the club referred to Kevvy as female and thought how cute she looked in her thick diaper, which hung down thickly from under her pretty lacy smock. So huge was her silky protection that even standing was a problem and her only means of movement was from a slow waddling crawl when Daddy called or Charlie enticed her into some game or other. * Bronislav had no idea why the dramatic change should have occurred in Kevvy. He went through each stage of the regression process trying to pinpoint where and why it had happened. When he introduced the sound of a dog barking to the sound system in the nursery, it was only Kevvy that reacted, Charlie didn’t even seem to notice it. Only on one occasion had he heard the barking and smiled at his Dada and said “Doggeee!” Yet that same sound would have a panic-stricken Kevvy weeping, hiding, shaking and often messing himself - it just didn’t make sense. However, as things had never been better Bronislav was keen to take full advantage of the situation and paraded his two regressed toys proudly in front of the new club members at Iuvenili. Most of those there were either DLs or ABs but only a couple had been regressed forcefully and totally. This small, and it has to be said, very rich band of ‘parents’ had an air of superiority about them but even so, knew that their ‘babies’ needed the company of others. * Although Kevvy was reluctant to join in, she had no shortage of grown up admirers who loved how babyish and docile she was. There would always be a small crowd when her Daddy changed her and there would be a discussion between them on what clothes and even what diaper colour she should wear. Some even volunteered to clean up and change her themselves because of how sweet it appeared to have an eighteen year old boy in such a regressed state. They were always picking her up, bouncing her on their knee and even when she cried there would always be a bottle or paci offered by someone. Like her Daddy, everyone loved to see her crawling around with her huge padded and frilly, shiny bottom waddling with each cautious attempt at forward propulsion. Kevvy was completely unaware of her effect on the others and some of the other AB and DLs were getting a bit fractious because of all the attention being shown towards her. Tantrums and tears, wettings and more were the order of the day as each child tried to get their mommy’s or daddy’s devotion focused back on them. At one point Iuvenili sounded like a nursery full of wailing out-of-control kids but there was no denying it was Kevvy who was the star of the little group. Everyone wanted to know how Bronislav had achieved such a spectacular result, indeed, two such spectacular examples, as Charlie was also adored for his wonderful pleasing ability to be joyful in any situation. Bronislav didn’t reveal his secrets despite the fact that others wanted their kids to be regressed to such a stage as Kevvy. He was even asked if he wanted to let Kevvy go to another home, where a mommy, who was incredibly rich but desperately lonely wanted a baby of her own. Kevvy, she said, would make her life complete because she was such a ‘cutie-pie’. * Bronislav gave this some serious thought. He wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone else to look after them properly but he had let others go without so much as a second thought. Baby Kevvy was giving him pleasure but it had taken some time getting there. The problem was, because he had no idea why s/he should have regressed so far so quickly, the chances were that his/her temper, his/her destructive side and his/her hyper activity might just return… unannounced. The lady who wanted to adopt him was happy to pay for the privilege. She was well aware of Kevvy being a regressed teenage boy but loved the idea of bringing him up as a sweet baby girl. She had plans for all the clothes she would have made for her growing child, although he’d never mentally be more than a baby, she wanted to look after him and her desperate pleading eventually won Bronislav over. * He’d painted Charlie on the nursery wall and had changed Kevin’s image to be more like he was now - Kevvy as a little baby girl crawling around in her super-thick shiny panties. He slowly introduced Kevvy to his new Mommy and despite the tears and tantrums that only a small child could produce was eventually strapped into her limo and driven off to a new life. There was a promise made that both would still see each other at the Iuvenili club, but the truth was, the woman never returned. Charlie was a little perplexed at losing his little sister and kept asking his Dada where she was but a few extra toys and Dada’s undivided attention, plus more time out of the nursery and living in a villa by the sea seemed to fix that. The change of location also had another unforeseen development. As time went on there were some signs that the happy, loving toddler was acquiring a new awareness. There were times when Charlie would look at his Dada who noticed that the smile wasn’t there. He’d be staring intently for a few seconds as if trying to weigh up a situation, something Bronislav knew he wasn’t able to do, but then suddenly return to his joyous, playful self as if nothing had occurred. In the nursery this wasn’t as obvious because of all the electronic gizmos and sound-systems that had been introduced to keep Charlie in his happy and docile state. However, at the seaside villa there were no such appliances, because Bronislav was confident that he really no longer needed them all the time. It was a walk along the cliffs that proved fatal. The wind was blowing fresh clean air into their lungs as they giggled and ran little races between various points. Charlie was too scared to go near the edge and backed away but his Dada, enjoying the bracing power of the fresh breeze stretched out his arms as if embracing the elements. As he did so the smiling face of Charlie gave way to one of deep concern. * Not unlike the dog with Kevin, something enormous happened as Charlie’s mind suddenly lit up with knowledge, a new awareness, a feeling of, of, something. For the first time he looked at himself and became conscious of the thick diaper, the childish shirt, the colourful shorts for a boy of three and again, his mind clicked. As his Dada was still enjoying deep lungful’s of fresh clean air, Charlie stepped up behind him and with one huge effort, pushed Bronislav with all his might. His Dada never knew what hit him because his footing slipped and was instantly plummeting the eighty feet onto the jagged rocks below. His body splattered over several spiky boulders but the sea rushed in and wiped the red sludge away, as if cleaning up the mess. Charlie still didn’t dare look down because he was back to being a scared little toddler who was alone, the awareness disappearing as quickly as it came. He was alone and scared. All he could do was cry and hope that someone would find him soon but this was a desolate area and night was closing in. Charlie had wet himself and curled up in a ball to try and keep warm. Much to his bewilderment his quiet yelps for his Dada remained unanswered. He hugged himself and whimpered miserably as the minutes of anxiety mounted to hours of abject fear. After quite some time lying despondently on the cliff top he thought he heard in the distance a voice calling their dog but he couldn’t see anyone. A few minutes later he felt a wet tongue licking his sleepy face and another voice, this time of a woman, asking if he was alright. Charlie didn’t know what to do, he was very distressed, scared and wet and the only response he knew was to cry even more. “Dada fell,” Charlie gulped in air as he pointed to the cliff edge. “Dada gone.” The full horror of what this confused and sad teen was reporting filled her full of compassion. The lady, her husband and the dog all looked at this sweet but terrified teenager, dressed as a toddler, obviously padded, crying his eyes out... and made a decision. ****************

Part 8 With the ease in which Kevin was regressed Bronislav thought he’d have no trouble orientating him into nursery life. He had spent a great deal of time working on the boy’s psyche whilst he was sedated with drugs but even so, expected him to put up more of a fight than he had. Still, he was grateful everything had passed off so well and he’d already started to tell both Charlie and Kevin (Baby Kevvy as he was now called) that each would have a new brother, a new playmate, very soon. Bronislav watched as Baby Kevvy came to terms with his ultra-thick diaper and solid rubber pants. There was something instantly appealing as the packed shiny protection glistened below the smock as he waddled or crawled around getting used to his new position in life… a naive two year-old. He’d reset the relaxing music, reinforcement soundwaves and the subliminal messages throughout the house so that both boys would be bombarded with the same message. However, the nursery was better equipped for kids than the rest of ‘Evergreen’ so he thought he’d introduce his sweet little ‘toys’ to each other as soon as possible. ~ Kevvy was a little powerhouse. He seemed unable to sit still and poked his nose (hands, fingers) into everything to see what it was or did. His voluminous diaper seemed no hindrance to his mission as he set off to explore this new world. At first Bronislav was pleased with his little dynamo but he needed constant supervision as the house was beginning to look like a playground. Despite the fact that the regressive programme also destroyed his teenage strength and made him feeble in comparison, the little tyke disrupted plants, drew on the walls, left a trail of mess and on one occasion emptied the fridge. Charlie had never done any of this, he was always so loving and compliant and, well, he was expecting the same from his new toy. So, to speed things up, Bronislav brought forward the meeting and slid the secret partition aside so that Kevvy caught sight of the nursery for the first time. His eyes lit up in wonder at all the colourful characters and when he saw Charlie laid on his stomach, dressed in a pale blue onesie with a giraffe on its front and playing with a huge dinosaur, he headed straight over. The new toddler stormed straight in and grabbed the toy animal much to the surprise of Charlie who looked up stunned, his bottom lip quivered before he let out a cry. Their Dada quickly caught up with Kevvy and grabbed his hand and tried to explain that it wasn’t nice to take things off his older brother. “’smine.” Was the only word Kevvy uttered. “No,” Dada tried to reason with his two year-old, “Charlie was playing with it first so give it back.” “’smine.” Kevvy held it close to his chest as Charlie continued to wail at the injustice of it all. “No, it’s Charlie’s,” Dada pulled it from his grasp, “you don’t take things like that… there are plenty of other toys for you to…” “’smine,” Kevvy grabbed it back from his Dada, wriggled free of his hand and scuttled to a corner of the room where there were many more toys. With the introduction in tatters Dada comforted Charlie and soon got him happily playing with another toy. He tried to get the two boys to play together but they stayed at opposite ends of the room and involved themselves in their own imaginative games. Bronislav suddenly realised he was going to have to split his time between the two but hoped that eventually they would play together. ~ For the next couple of days his two Executive toys ran him ragged and Bronislav was worn out by the time he put them both to bed. Charlie was still left in the nursery crib but once Kevvy was dozing he was picked up and transferred back to his Dada’s bed. Not for any sex, no Bronislav was far too tired for anything like that, but so that they wouldn’t fight like they had done on the first occasion he put them in the crib together. He hadn’t planned a second crib as he aimed that the boys would calm down, accept the situation and be happy together sharing everything; and that included the sleeping arrangements. However, it was a bit more cramped in the crib than he’d anticipated and, should either of them grow much more, it would be an unhealthy fit. He decided he needed one that would be adequate for two grown-ups and would last… so called the friend who had made the original crib with his instructions. One thing did become clearer and that was, despite Kevvy been regressed to a two year-old, he was by far the more dominant. Soft, sweet and loving three year-old Charlie was often left crying or sulking because Kevvy had come along and taken something he was enjoying. In the end, and after both had been naughty by throwing huge chunks of Lego at one and other, the tears and the general upheaval were only brought to an end when Dada punished both boys. He took down their protection, put them over his knee and gave them both a sound spanking. Afterwards, Charlie’s red little butt glowed as he stood in the corner sobbing his eyes out and not understanding why his Dada had been so cruel. Meanwhile, a feisty Kevvy only succumbed to tears after his spanking lasted longer and his Dada was insistent that he understood to obey him immediately. Kevvy stood at the side of Charlie facing the wall each with equally fiercely red bottoms. Both were sobbing and not understanding why their Dada had spanked them but now realised that Dada would hurt them if they didn’t behave. Under the threat of another spanking if they didn’t do as they were told he insisted that they should hold hands while they had corner time. Reluctantly their hands wavered and although Kevvy was about two inches shorter than Charlie, it was him who took the lead. Charlie may have tried to withhold his hand but a stern “Charlie” from his Dada scared him into complying. ~ Two glowing red bottoms holding hands made their Dada wonder what else he could do to make them friendlier towards each other. He was disappointed that he’d had to resort to such discipline but now he had, and seen how effective such correction was, he kept that in his arsenal of threats if needed in future. Meanwhile, he wondered if he dressed them the same if that might help so, after he’d left them standing in the corner for half an hour and was sure the sobbing had stopped (although they still held hands) it was time to re-diaper and feed them. Whilst both were able to feed themselves, there were certain actions reinforcing their toddler status that Bronislav just loved to watch. One of these was to give them both a warm baby bottle of formula, which they sucked on as he got them dressed. Like slipping the paci in their mouths it both silenced any noise, looked really childish, whilst they appeared to derive so much pleasure from sucking on the teat. First it was Charlie who seemed over his punishment and was enjoying his bottle and Dada’s loving hands as they smoothed in creams, oils and powder before slipping him into a well-padded terry nappy, which he pinned into place with his favourite kitten pins. He then slipped a pair of glossy pink rubber panties up his hair-free legs, which held everything tightly in place. Once he’d finished he moved over to Kevvy who, though enjoying his sweet formula, had watched the entire proceedings with a suspicious eye. It appeared that Kevvy was far less forgiving and was still smarting over his very sore bottom but Bronislav applied the same creams and powder as lovingly as he had to Charlie and tried extra hard in making his little fellow smile. A bout of tickling and baby talk, compliments and hugs soon had Kevvy giggling as he was put into a similar thick terry nappy (also held together with kitten pins) and shiny rubber pants just like his ‘brother’. He helped them both down from the changing station and let them play together. He gave them full warning that if they didn’t behave they would be punished again and put in the playpen for the rest of the day. They bowed their heads trying to hide away from their Dada’s threat as both boys wanted to avoid a further spanking. ~ The impenetrable rubber panties looked terrific on the boys and made a childish statement all of their own. Thankfully, because of the threat they began to play together whilst Dada went to the closet to find two matching outfits. His first thought was to put them both into smocks; it would be easier and less trouble later in the day when they would inevitably have messed themselves. However, he’d recently had a couple of denim short coveralls made which were intended just for Charlie but thought he’d see what they both looked like in them. Even though they had buttons for easy access he decided to tell the boys that, as they were getting to be ‘big boys’, they could wear ‘big boy’ clothes. He helped Kevvy into his first, slipping his legs into the shorts, pulling on a pale blue t-shirt with animals all over it and then fastening the bib front into place with the metal clips. There was a cartoon hedgehog on the front panel and Kevvy seemed really pleased with it all. His Dada helped him into socks and sandals and, with a paci pinned to his bib, he was ready. Not really used to wearing such an outfit he flopped down onto the carpet but his padded seat prevented his sore bottom from further pain. He looked remarkably cute, however, not being sure of his balance he quickly crawled to where the toys were. His rubber protection could easily be seen up the loose legs of his short pants but soon busied himself in the game he and Charlie had been playing earlier before their argument – it was making a farm… with dinosaurs as well as cattle. Charlie was called over and he toddled joyfully over to his Dada with a huge smile on his face as he hugged and shyly kissed him. His denim coverall was exactly the same except he had a cartoon squirrel on the front panel. He, like Kevvy, had a t-shirt covered in animals and also wore similar socks and sandals. As Dada pinned his paci to the front of his coverall he made wide goo-goo eyes and nervously giggled before slipping it between his lips. Bronislav opened up the second secret wall and the boys were amazed to see the garden in full sunlight with new toys scattered around for them to play with. Surprisingly, to begin with they held each-others hand as uncertainly they ventured into this wide open space. There Dada thought this was a good thing as they were both getting encouragement from the other to be brave. Soon both were excitedly ‘running’ from one thing to another not quite sure which to play with first but unbelievably happy they were outside and there were so many extra things to do; a sandpit, swings, a rocking horse, a see-saw… there was even a huge pile of cardboard boxes left… it was all very exciting. ~ For the first time Bronislav could relax for a moment as his two charges squealed with delight and urged each other have a go on their piece of apparatus. It was just a couple of minutes before they scurried over to the next thing that held their interest, and then the next… but despite this they were playing together and getting on fine. Bronislav watched as the two waddled and shouted their appreciation for a piece of equipment, where one of them would instigate a game, later bringing out other toys to join in the fun. The garden was full of toys from the nursery as well as all the new items… it seemed the boys wanted all their ‘friends’ to share in the fun. The cardboard boxes were also well used as they suddenly became a hideout and a castle, which they both claimed as their own but this time, without resorting to a grumpy battle. For hours their Dada watched and encouraged the boys to express themselves. He patted their well-padded bottoms when they came to ask him something, secretly checking that they were still dry, and giving each a quick hug before letting them get back to their business. The thick protection did nothing to inhibit the boys and to Bronislav they looked most appealing as they clambered guiltlessly around the garden. The boys only slowed down when they had lunch in the garden but even then, they were quick to eat everything up (Dada had insisted) drink their juice from the sippy cup but were far too excited to nap. Bronislav was going to insist but, after checking their slightly damp diapers, decided that he’d let them wear themselves out and hopefully be ready for an early night when it was time. He’d bought the boys matching nursery print plastic pants which they wore for bed, together with their nursery print onesies. They both looked adorable and it was plain to see, as they snuggled down, it was Kevin who dominated in the crib as well. He’d clasp Charlie in his arms and Charlie, never happier than when he was being cuddled, would gladly let him wrap his arms around him as they slept. Both looked cute sucking on their pacis whilst an assortment of stuffed animals surrounding them as they drifted off into some childish dreamland. There seemed no doubt that Kevin was now the older brother and Charlie appeared not to worry about that as a snuggled back into his brother’s embrace. ~ Over the next few weeks Bronislav began to realise more and more just what he’d set up for himself. Whereas Charlie was quiet, loving and able to amuse himself in play, Kevin was full of adventure, mischief and energy. Being encased in an ultra-thick diaper didn’t hinder him in any of the things he did. Charlie was more than happy to huddle up to Dada and watch cartoons but for Kevin, he would do that for a few minutes before wriggling free and finding some other thing to occupy his time. Bronislav had wanted two little toy boys to regress and make his own but now he had, he saw there were problems in the not too distant future, not least, the fact that Kevin was growing. Having two adult sized babies wasn’t the dream he’d expected and only now was he beginning to think of finding an alternative. He’d had the fun in regressing and controlling these two teenagers but now, the responsibility for looking after them for any length of time was daunting. Could he turn the regression off? He’d never tried and in truth, he’d never thought that far in advance. Could he even progress the boys back to how they were, restoring their minds, memories, feelings? He had no idea. One thing was for certain, although he was thoroughly enjoying watching his boys living in a toddler existence, he had to do something soon otherwise this whole project would blow up in his face. ~ All the books on hypnotism, psychology, drugs, soundwaves, and verbal enforcement were of no help now he wanted to try and reverse some of what he’d done. The idea that he’d be an old man and still have middle-aged toddlers running around, needing their diapers changed, didn’t appeal to him in the least. He also realised that life in the nursery and garden was no life for the boys they needed to experience other things, have friends, be out in the countryside, visit the beach and he saw the difficulties in doing that. He might be able to get away with one toddler but he thought that two might rouse suspicion. Also, as Kevin was proving, even a youth-sized toddler was pretty tiring to control. No, he needed to find an alternative and he needed to find it soon. **** tbc

Part 7 ‘Evergreen’ was a fantastic new house built from an original plan by Bronislav’s father and adapted by the man himself. The main change to the original design was a secret room with a hidden entrance, this became the nursery. A sliding panel in the master bedroom gave access and there was another concealed exit that led to an ante-room, which in turn led out to the enclosed rear garden but the nursery itself was a work of art and could be shut off entirely to the outside world if necessary. It was a large area, which even with a crib, sofa, TV, changing station, closets, draws and the paraphernalia of childhood, still had plenty of space to play. The high up windows that let in light were just for show. They, like everything else in the room, were controlled by an advanced electronic system that could change the entire environment. Day could become night at the push of a button, whilst the sound that was available, and accessible everywhere in the house could, with effects added, give the impression of a bird singing dawn chorus to a violent storm raging outside. It was this constant music, complemented by the inaudible streaming of suitable sound waves and subliminal words, that helped keep Charlie happy in his little toddler environment. The relaxing ambient music incorporated into the sophisticated lighting made it easy to fool him into time for sleep, time to wake up and even time to fill his diaper. ~ Since he’d arrived at ‘Evergreen’ Charlie spent almost all his time in the nursery only occasionally been allowed out to play in the main house with Dada. Normally his cute brightly covered diapered bottom could be found crawling around the room, playing with his toys and action figures, creating all manner of wonderful buildings or lying on his stomach concentrating on colouring in a book. If he wasn’t sucking on a paci at these times his tongue would be lolling out the side of his mouth as the little fellow focused all his effort on what he was doing. He’d proudly show his Dada what he’d accomplished and giggle and wriggle in pleasure as the compliments were heaped on his clever achievements. Mentally there was no longer even a hint of his teenage past as he’d regressed completely to a reliant little three year-old who loved his Dada. He was one happy and contented little boy. Whilst he slept the hidden commands would seep into his subconscious reinforcing his position as an unencumbered child. His Dada had told him that he wasn’t allowed to get out of his crib unaided so he’d lie and wait watching the hypnotic mobile, hugging his stuffed animal and sucking on his paci until the side bars were lowered and he’d be helped to get up. Usually his diaper was full and this led to his morning routine of clean up; sometimes he would be thoroughly wet-wiped, other times bathed in a fun bubble bath. The ritual of creams, powder and diapers having both participants chuckling with delight before the final decision was made if Charlie was to be just in protection all day, or in one of his cute outfits. His Dada really did love dressing his boy up and loved to see the bulky protection filling out his onesie, shorts or coverall. ~ Occasionally Charlie would wake up dry but a little sticky. These dry nights were when, once he’d fallen asleep, his Dada would pick him up and carry him to his own room to sleep there. His Dada loved the feel of his well diapered little boy lying next to him. The thickness of the padding, the slipperiness of the plastic pants, everything about the situation sent an erotic charge through him. He’d rub himself up against the warm dozing body, thrilled by the intoxicating pleasure such an action produced. Charlie, oblivious to what was happening, would be enjoyed as might an inflatable doll. When his Dada had peaked and the hugging and kissing stopped, he’d be gently carried back to the crib as if nothing had happened. In the morning, when Charlie awoke, he’d be none the wiser and just took it for granted that his diaper was messy and that he’d made it so. For all Bronislav’s confidence, brilliance and money, he didn’t actually like the idea that his little toys should know about his ‘other’ side. It was the one area that he hadn’t quite come to terms with and one that in some ways pained him greatly. So, although he loved having his little diapered toys around, he felt guilty, so rarely indulged in his ‘secret’ desire. He got so much pleasure from the rest of the enterprise; the actual regression, the control, the clothes, the diapers, the play, the sweetness of someone so loving and dependent on him, which was mainly all he needed. But above all, the thing that drove him to continue was his absolute obsession for diapers and plastic pants on a giggling (though sometimes not so giggling) emasculated youth. It was that power, the same power he’d discovered with his brother, to de-sex a horny teenager, reduce him to an infant and plaything that satisfied him the most. ~ Mr W spent less and less time at the office now he had responsibility for Charlie. He could operate well from his laptop at home and Miss Thorpe dealt with the main day to day running of his part of the company. He’d attend the office for any major meetings or call in for an hour or two but only if he had Charlie napping at the time. The take-over was the talk of the industry but in the negotiations the company was sold for a far higher price than had been expected… again Mr W’s smooth talking and clever manipulation of any situation was the reason. Nobody lost their job, well initially, and the directors found themselves very rich men indeed. The two other bosses joined the board of the new company, whilst Mr W decided to take a back seat and became only interested in his shareholdings. Despite requests and offers for him to join other firms as CEO or some other high position, he told his friends that his home and his family back in Poland were now his main concern and intended moving away from the business and concentrating on other projects. ~ In all the change and disruption the fact Kevin had run off was of little concern to the company. After an initial enquiry by the boy’s carers they simply thought he’d reverted to type, and dismissed his departure as just trying to make life difficult for everybody else. Because he was eighteen, no one was really all that bothered about tracking him down and, as there were other, and some argued ‘more deserving’ kids who needed time and patience from the scant resources available, his departure was quickly forgotten. He became just another runaway kid and was added to the list of all the other kids who’d gone missing over the years. ~ Kevin hadn’t had to wait in the countryside for long. A white van drove up and offered him a lift, which at first he refused. It was only on a second and more thorough inspection he realised it was Mr W in disguise. “Hi buddy,” Mr W spoke as he wound down the window, “wanna go for a ride?” Kevin had been hoping (and expecting) that his escape to freedom would be in some high performance sports car, he was a little taken aback by Mr W’s choice of transport. However, once he realised who it was offering him the lift, he smiled and climbed in. “Sorry about the subterfuge but we need to be careful to begin with,” he smiled as his young passenger sat next to him. “S’OK, I was, er, expecting… you know, er… something…” Kevin shrugged with disappointment. Mr W leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek, which Kevin responded to immediately. There was a touch of longing and relief as he returned the kiss but he lingered and his excitement grew. He pawed at the front of Mr W’s pants and suggested that they find somewhere a bit more private to enjoy each other. Kevin was one hot little lad who needed his sexual fix and it was only fair that, with him in such a state, he be allowed to satiate that lust. ~ In an empty car park overlooking a very picturesque spot the white van rocked with their pleasure, each desperate for more of the other. It was the first time in ages that Mr W had let himself go to such a degree and wondered if he was perhaps making a mistake in reducing Kevin to a child. However, once they finally came down from their sexual high, the proffered bottle of juice that Kevin gratefully drank was the start of his induction into toddlerhood. ~ As his boss, his ex-boss, drove home, thanks to the drugged drink, Kevin got sleepier and sleepier and before too long was out cold. Mr W hoped that he wasn’t going to regret what he was about to do and had until he got the boy back to ‘Evergreen’ to decide exactly what he wanted from him. There was no doubt about it, the young lad had a great deal about him; he was street wise, had talent, was unafraid, dealt with things with ease, was phenomenal when it came to sex and would make a wonderful partner but, Mr W already had plans. A moment for Kevin’s reprieve almost made it to the surface but instead the image of Bronislav’s younger brother reappeared and his fate was sealed. For some time now Bronislav had been preoccupied by the words of his mother about un-potty trained toddlers wearing smocks so that their diapers were easier to get to when they needed a change. He’d had a brief flirtation with the look when he’s sent Brent to his new parents but it was now firmly at the forefront of his mind – he wanted a toy like that and Kevin would be that incontinent baby boy. He would wear a little smock and his diaper would always be on show especially when it hung heavily down when wet. Bronislav was consumed by that single image and thought the entire look would be cute, babyish and perhaps slightly embarrassing for Kevin but, as he’d have no choice, that’s how he’d be treated. ~ Back at ‘Evergreen’ Kevin was comatose and being given the same type of bath that Charlie had been given on his first day. His hair was cut short, like the new Army recruits in movies, and all his body hair (and for his size and age he was quite hairy) was also dissolved from his body as the depilatory cream took effect. Once he was completely smooth and his body was like that of a new born baby, he was swaddled in a thick, well-padded disposable and see thru plastic pants. Mr W couldn’t get over just how wonderful Kevin looked and thought he and Charlie together would make the most perfect pair. For the moment though, the two would be kept separate, he had a few things he needed to do with Kevin before he let him into the nursery. Because of the ease in which Charlie had been regressed, Bronislav hoped that it would be equally stress-free for Kevin to quickly slip under his influence. However, he needed to make sure that any battle against what he was attempting should be minimal. More drugs were utilized while the music and reinforcement soundwaves were set to rapidly infiltrate his brain. As it was getting late he carried him to his own bed and knowing he’d be out for the count for some time, took the opportunity to use his adorable, hair-free body again and again. Those thick, slippery plastic pants sending ripples of pleasure through the older man’s body as he rode that sexy slick bulge front and back. ~ “Good morning sweetheart,” Mr W greeted a rather groggy Kevin as he finally came round. “Mmm, nnnwww, er…” Kevin tried to orientate himself as he wiped his eyes and found that he was in a very comfortable bed. “You must have been very tired you’ve slept for quite some time but I’m glad to see you’re awake now.” Mr W beamed at his confused guest. “Er, how did I get h… er… how did I get here?” The boy stammered. Mr W was pleased that there was some confusion in the boy’s mind - it meant part of his work had already begun. “Don’t you remember,” he smiled at the boy, “you said you wanted to come and live here?” A look of uncertainty crossed Kevin’s brow as he realised he was naked. “Er did we, erm, did we have…” he was mumbling, “ermmmm… where’s my clothes?” Mr W smiled. “Well, first you fell asleep on me as I was driving you here…” The older man looked tenderly at his guest. “… and unfortunately, you had a bit of an accident in your pants.” ~ Kevin reached under the sheet and for the first time became aware he was wearing protection as his plastic pants rustled with the sudden movement. He threw back the sheet and examined himself more closely before screwing up his nose in disgust. He looked mystified and then accusingly at Mr W. “Why am I wearing a diaper… and… and … plastic pants,” he mewled like a little kid. Mr W looked at him and shrugged as if he’d got it all wrong. “Well that’s not what you said when I got you out of your messy stuff.” Mr W thought he’d push things a bit and see what reaction he got. “After you’d had a bath and used loads of the creams and stuff… some of which you shouldn’t have used by the way… you asked me to cut your hair, which I did…” Kevin quickly ran his hand through what was left of his fine locks and shook his head in disbelief. He looked pained. “Why would I do that?” The boy was now even more confused and wondering just what else he’d done that he couldn’t remember. He screwed up his eyes in concentration desperate for something, anything to come back to him. “You said you wanted to make a complete new start.” Mr W shrugged as if he didn’t know what all the fuss was about. “I was sorry you wanted to lose your hair but you were adamant and I thought it would make you happy. In fact you were even pleased that some of the creams you used made you lose your body hair.” This was making only part sense to Kevin who was more muddled than ever that he couldn’t remember anything. However, here he was, lying in Mr Wojciechowski bed, all but naked and scratching his head trying to piece it all together. “Did we… er… fuck?” “Earlier, yes but not last night.” Mr W shook his head. “I don’t quite know why you aren’t remembering all the things we’d planned together. We are making a new life for us both… don’t you remember?” Kevin tried but remembered nothing except, well even that stray thought suddenly disappeared and he was trying to take in what this man, was it MrWojciech… Mr Wojciechowski, his boss? He knew that something had been arranged but couldn’t fathom out just what but he could hear the man speaking. “ …and after your bath you were annoyed at messing your pants and said you must be a baby if you did things like that.” Mr W looked to see what his reaction was going to be. “However, you complained that your stomach felt all ‘bubbly’ and was scared you might do something similar again… so I went out and bought a few things you suggested I should get and you seemed happier once I’d… er” he pointed to his slick diapered crotch, “made you more comfortable.” Kevin was shaking his head. “That’s not likely.” “Well I’m sorry Kevin but…” At that moment the music and soundwaves changed to a different frequency and the boy gripped his stomach as if he was in tremendous pain. “What’s wrong sweetie… have you just remembered something? Is it all coming back to you?” There was a sudden noise as Kevin let rip, which was instantly followed by him shitting in his diaper. “Ohhh Godddd noooo…” Kevin couldn’t stop the stream of effluent flowing from his body and that he was now sitting in. The stink reached Mr W who slightly recoiled. “God heaven’s Kevin, you were so right about taking precautions. Thanks, you saved our bed from becoming a toilet…” Kevin looked up from his soiled diaper and tears were forming in his eyes. “I’m so sorry… I’m…” He unsuccessfully fought back his tears. “Hey, don’t worry little fella,” Mr W. reached out and hugged him trying to console his messy boy. “It was an accident… so… there, there… don’t worry about it… little boys like you are always having accidents… we’ll get you all cleaned up and we can go out and…” Kevin shot him a tearful look as if to say that going out was the last thing on his mind. He’d missed the reference to him being a little boy. “Well, we don’t have to go out but let’s get you cleaned up and into something… well… cleaned up at least.” ~ He left unsaid what it was he was going to put him in. As it was Kevin seemed relieved when, after his shower and he’d dried himself off that Mr W was waiting for him with another clean disposable and some thick pads. “I know you don’t want this but….” he searched Kevin’s face for any argument, “until we know what’s wrong with your stomach perhaps, for the moment at least, these might be better for you… make you feel safer?” Kevin’s face screwed into an unhappy grimace, He was obviously thinking about options but seemed resigned that it may well be for the best. Mr W tried to make light of it by not making it an issue, he just got on with the job in hand. The thick bulky pads added to the size of the latest diaper but at least it was relieving Kevin of the huge responsibility of not being in control of his own body… and the fact that he had shit himself like a little kid. However, on the plus side he reasoned, there was no one else to see him so reluctantly let this helpful man, his boss, Mr W… well whoever it was, tape the entire mass into place. He really didn’t want the plastic pants as well but Mr W told him that as it made the entire thing leak-proof it would be sensible to wear them. The squabble that Mr W was anticipating didn’t materialise and because of that, reasoned, he’d successfully completed the first part of his plan – to get Kevin in to diapers and be accepting of them. ~ Meanwhile, not fifteen feet away, Charlie was tottering around the nursery with his dinosaurs that were battling intergalactic aliens. It had been a game that occupied him often and whose side he took was reinforced what he wore. It could be the cute little navy blue onesie that had a space rocket zooming up to the moon on the front and the plastic pants covered in planets or the matching set of dinosaur coveralls and diapers. He never tired of the game as he waddled from ‘planet’ to ‘planet’ (closet to draws to chair to crib) he’d created in his head. Charlie could keep himself amused for hours only needing his Dada to come and change him occasionally. However, he liked it tons better when his Dada played with him and they rolled around hugging and squealing with joy. ~ Mr W left Kevin to watch TV as he secretly went to off attend to Charlie. He made the excuse that he had to go and collect something and hoped he’d be okay on his own. Kevin was relieved that there’d be no one around to see him wearing his thick protection so was rather glad he was to be left for a while. Mr W had told him to help himself to food and anything else he wanted but Kevin just settled in front of the huge TV with its hundreds of channels and said he thought he’d be fine. Meanwhile, the audio pumped out its secret sounds and messages and before too long Kevin had fallen asleep with his thumb firmly planted between his lips and his diaper soaked. Something was wrong. Kevin could clearly see he was back in ‘juvy’ and everyone was laughing at him, including the warders. He couldn’t work out why his appearance should cause such laughter, it never had done before but he couldn’t work out what the problem was. Even the few friends he’d made while there chuckled as he went past but no one spoke to him… they smiled with contempt and ridiculed him but he just couldn’t make out what they were shouting. Eventually, one of the grown-ups pulled him to one side and told him not to worry because he’d change him. Thinking that he was going to be hurt he tried to fight the man but was instantly overpowered and held down on a soft mat, where his soaked thick diaper was removed in front of all the other inmates. It came as a shock as he hadn’t known he’d been wearing a diaper but the warder just pulled his protection down, wiped him clean, sprinkled powder and re-diapered him as if it was an everyday occurrence. Once he was all cleaned up the man patted his padded bottom, handed him a teddy bear and told him to go back to playing with his toys while the others went about their chores. There he was, in the middle of the main hall, playing with a host of dolls and other toys, whilst all around him his fellow juvy attendees were mopping the floor, cleaning windows, sweeping or collecting rubbish, it seemed perfectly normal now that he should be playing games. Another warder came over and patted his plastic bottom and offered him a pacifier, which he immediately pushed between his lips and sucked on furiously as if it was the most important thing in the world. Juvy turned into an enormous playpen but there was only him sitting in the middle, sucking on his paci, snuggling his teddy and wondering where everyone else had gone. He started to cry at being alone and he could feel himself messing his diaper and feeling strange… ~ Mr W was shaking him awake. He’d already noticed that Kevin’s diaper looked saturated and had expanded to fill out his protecting plastic pants. He heard the little whimper from the boy as he gently shook his shoulder and knew that he was filling it even as he tried to wake up. “Kevin, Kevin… wake up… c’mon Kevin,” Mr W said in a sort of sing-song babyish voice. “You are a little sleepy head perhaps we should…” He already knew what had happened but theatrically put his hand on the front of the boys bulging protection. “Mmmm, I think somebody has had another accident.” Kevin was still sobbing from his dream and hadn’t yet got his thoughts together but Mr W pulled him to his feet and gently guided him into the bathroom where he’d prepared the next stage of Kevin’s regression. It wasn’t far but on the journey to the bathroom Kevin held tightly to Mr W’s hand as he nervously shuffled along. He had no idea why he should have such a huge messy diaper but it also didn’t worry him, he was being looked after by a grown-up. Yes, although he wasn’t too sure who this man was he was being very nice and spoke soothing words, he’d also said he was going to clean him up, so that was nice of him. “C’mon Kevin, be good for Daddy.” The man spoke softly and he gently manoeuvred him onto a soft, foam-filled plastic mat. “Let’s get this thing off you,” he said as he pulled down his plastic pants and untaped his diaper. There was a look of confusion on Kevin’s face but his Daddy kept smiling and telling him what a good baby boy he was, so it must be alright… although he wasn’t sure. He got a bit fidgety and tried to wriggle free from this man, his Daddy, but he just gently held him down as he applied some wet wipes to his groin. That tickled and he started to giggle as more cool wet-wipes were used. “Who’s a good little baby? Yes, Kevin is a good little baby, yes he is…” The baby talk and reinforcement carried on for some time as Mr W slowly cleaned him up, tickled his tummy, ‘this little piggy-ed’ his toes and did all the things that any proud parent would do for their little baby boy. Kevin looked up at him as if trying to sort out what was going on. Sucking on his thumb it didn’t seem right but the man was nice, his Daddy was a nice man. The youngster wanted to play but instead his Daddy removed his thumb from his mouth and slipped in a pacifier which tasted really good. He sucked and found that there was some nice sweet syrupy substance that he enjoyed so wasn’t aware that his Daddy put him back into an even thicker diaper and thick pink rubber pants that were locked into place. A little pale blue smock was fed over his head which reached to his waist but his bulging protection hung low and obvious for anyone to see. However, it didn’t bother Kevin, in fact he wasn’t aware of what he was wearing it was just clothes his Daddy had dressed him in. ~ Kevin had become the very thing Bronislav wanted and had completely regressed in record time. He’d been far easier to subdue than Charlie and Mr W beamed in pleasure as his two little toys now lay in the crib together. He was proud of his achievements whilst his two little boys wearing their thick diapers slept peacefully and without a care in the world - Kevin hugging his new baby brother and Charlie hugging his giraffe. Their Dada was overjoyed to see the transformation but it hadn’t been as easy as he had hoped to get the two boys to take to each other. **** tbc

Part 6 Mr Wojciechowski was sitting at his desk speaking to the concerned parents of Charlie. They hadn’t heard from him for almost a month and wanted to know where he was. “I’m sorry Mr and Mrs Clarke but Charlie hasn’t worked for us for some weeks now.” The parents looked perplexed as he continued. “Because of the financial downturn we’ve been forced to slim down our staffing levels and I’m afraid Charlie was one of the casualties.” He tried to make sure they knew he wasn’t fired for doing anything wrong. “So, like around fifteen percent of our staff… he was laid off.” At that moment Miss Thorpe walked in carrying a sheaf of papers and handed it to her boss. He shuffled through them “Yes, here it is,” he looked at the single sheet of paper he now held. “On the 18th of last month we gave him a month’s extra pay and he left us immediately. I’m not sure if he took it too well…” He left the inference unsaid. Mr and Mrs Clarke looked agitated. “But he told us that you and he were going off to work on a brand new project, developing sites and…” Mr W was trying to placate Charlie’s distraught parents. “I’m sorry but we simply don’t have any new projects at the moment, if anything… we are trying to cut back even more.” “He said he was going to be your personal assistant and it was a live in position.” The two frantic parents insisted. They seemed at their wits end and looked imploringly at Mr Wojciechowski for some kind of answer. He couldn’t come up with anything. “I’m sorry, really sorry but…” he turned to his secretary. “Can you shed any light on this at all?” Miss Thorpe looked uncomfortable and obviously had something to say but didn’t dare speak. Everyone could see it but it took some imploring from Charlie’s parents before she’d tell what she knew. “He left immediately after the company had to let him go. He didn’t even close down his computer, just grabbed his things and left.” She was reluctant to say what was really on the tip of her tongue but thought it was something Charlie’s parents ought to know. “I’m really sorry to say this Mr and Mrs Clarke,” she nervously gulped her words but carried on. “but I think your son was a bit infatuated with Mr Wojciechowski.” Mr W interrupted her. “I’m sure not. I took him on the occasional field trip to our sites, he seemed so keen to know all there was about the business, I was impressed by his enthusiasm but I never saw…” Now it was Miss Thorpe’s turn to interrupt. “Sir, he was always hanging around the office, even when you were out at meetings.” She let the information she’d been holding back burst out. “He’d regularly appear at my desk asking to see you on the most ludicrous excuse, saying you’d asked him for a new file or some such thing, even though you hadn’t been in the office for days.” Mr W looked suitably shocked as did Charlie’s parents. Miss Thorpe looked like she thought she’d said too much. “I’m sorry Mr and Mrs Clarke,” there were tears in their eyes now, “but I thought you should know.” ~ Mr Wojciechowski arrived home to see his latest Executive Toy playing innocently amongst a pile of dolls and building blocks. He’d been happily surprised at how quickly Charlie had absorbed all the influences, drugs, suggestions and hypno-reinforcements to which he’d been subjected, to become a sweet little toddler only interested in his own games. He seemed just as happy to play on his own as he was when his Daddy came and joined in. It was true that Mr W did indeed love to be his Daddy and take care of his little man and it was heart-warming at the speed the teenager accepted his new place in the world. Within days all his grown up perceptions had been removed and a new set of toddler instructions were introduced to his passive and easily receptive mind. The diapers strengthened that view as little Charlie slipped totally into the condition of being a Forever Kid. His clothes were those of a sweet little boy. His Daddy had things made that would imprint it continually on his mind. He recreated the little blue and white striped bib and brace overalls he’d worn as an infant in the photograph. He made the giraffe a constant symbol on his clothing to reinforce that memory of being a happy pre-schooler. Going on Charlie’s earlier childish expression that all clothes should me made out of the same material as his fleecy blanket, that’s just what he got, a fine tight fitting short fleecy coverall, which moulded to his body and showed off the bulging thick protection underneath. His Daddy also loved the fact that when he played in his little outfits, they would ride up and his diaper with its rubber or plastic cover could quite easily be seen. As with all little kids, what he wore was not important so the bundle between his legs never bothered him, To Mr Wojciechowski this is what having a teenage toy was all about. He found it quite an experience to see, a young man in his diaper and not having to worry about it. In truth it turned him on to be able to manipulate someone so easily and thought he’d done a good job on Charlie. It didn’t worry Charlie in the slightest; he was oblivious to any such intentions. ~ It had been inevitable that Mr and Mrs Clarke would come calling seeking answers but he realised with Miss Thorpe’s reluctant, though rather compelling evidence, that Charlie’s parents would have to look elsewhere for any resolution. He’d offered to help in any way he could, promising he would ask the foremen at their sites around the country to keep an eye out in case he turned up; perhaps, he offered hopefully, one that they’d visited together in the past. He did suggest some further information, which in truth was a huge red herring; he told them that on their trips to various sites he always spoke about yachts. His parents had no idea about this side of their son, and why should they as it didn’t exist. However, Mr W went on how Charlie would produce a yachting magazine and enthuse about some photograph or other of an expensive boat. Indeed, the bigger and more luxurious the yacht was, the more it interested him and he would say how exciting he thought it must be to travel the world in such extravagance. Of course he’d never said anything of the sort but it gave them another hopeful lead as to the possible whereabouts of their missing son. He wished Charlie’s parents well and trusted their boy would soon be in contact. He was sure it was just a reaction to losing his job and maybe for some reason feeling a bit guilty about that fact. He remained positive in the face of such a despairing pair. No doubt, once he’d had chance to think about it he’d return home, like he assumed teenagers did, as if nothing had happened. ~ The transformation from cute teenager to even cuter toddler had been a wonder to behold. Mr W hadn’t had to put half of the tricks he had envisaged into practice as Charlie succumbed instantly (almost willingly) to each suggestion and slipped effortlessly into his life of diapers. His toddler bum, wrapped in a succession of colourful covers as he played and waddled about the nursery, was a constant joy. Even when he snuggled up whilst wearing only a thick white well-padded disposable made Charlie even more loving and appealing. In fact, Mr W was astounded, no matter how Charlie was dressed, from the most basic to his own take on ‘toddler fashion’, he looked prettier and sweeter than any child in any baby magazine. His Daddy (or Dada as he now called him) absolutely adored seeing his little mite when he was put in his crib for a daytime nap or his bedtime; hugging his furry giraffe, sucking on his bottle and wearing his well-padded footed onesie. A kiss and a cuddle were all that were needed to send him off into a peaceful night’s sleep. His Dada made sure that every morning he’d wake up wet and messy, he felt it important that the bonding between them should maintain its strength, so cleaning his sweet boy’s bum and wrinkled little privates was all part of that. Once fitted in his constantly changing selection of ultra-thick colourful diapers Dada would smooth the rubber or plastic cover over the mound where once a raging cock that desired sex lay but now hung unused except when it emptied his bladder. Having Charlie sit on his lap as they watched movies or cartoons together was a constant source of delight as he stroked and caressed his lovely, floppy-haired baby. The glossy fabric protection rubbing against his skin caused sensation after sensation to course through his body. Even the rustle of his diapers as he waddled to greet his Dada was music to the man’s ears and he was so happy with the results of making this adorable little youth into his toy. ~ Charlie wasn’t the first Executive Toy although he didn’t describe them as that to begin with, they were just susceptible teens who he liked to practice his ‘art’ on. In amongst the cartoon characters painted on the nursery wall were three other characters that might not immediately be identifiable. The cute little baby carrying the Polish flag and wearing a similarly styled diaper was in fact Mr W’s younger brother Amadei. When they were kids the two brothers shared a bedroom. Amadei was two years his junior but when he got to around fourteen he became quite a handful. He began to get a reputation for trying to get into every girl’s knickers and it wasn’t through charm it was as if he thought he had a right. Any female just wasn’t safe and his macho vision of himself was making a very egocentric and unconstrained young man. Bronislav (Mr W) who was even at that early age very much into hypnosis and psychology wondered if there was anything he could do to halt what he and his family saw as the rise of a possible sex fiend. Bronislav’s interest in hypnosis began when he was eight and his parents had taken him to see a show at the local theatre. A stage hypnotist was on the variety bill and the young and impressionable Bronislav was completely in awe of a rather weedy looking man having so much influence over other, bigger men he could make do silly things. The show had been the catalyst and the boy went away dreaming of exerting such control over others. The two boys shared a bedroom so it wasn’t too difficult for the older brother to bring a few ideas into play as his brother slept - he was surprised at the results. By continually making suggestions as his sibling slumbered Bronislav was soon able to make him wet himself during the night. After waking up several mornings in a row to a soaked bed, his mother a nurse, insisted her fourteen year-old son slept in a pielucha (diaper). The effect on Amadei was almost instant. The cockiness and seeing every female as prey began to disappear as he felt the chauvinist side slipping and his petulant juvenile side reappear. Bronislav loved to watch as his brother was put into is pielucha every night by their mother, all that bravado gone and only a baby brother was left. ~ Bronislav was delighted by the discovery of such influence and continued to keep his susceptible younger brother in his place. A couple of times when he tried to talk his mother into letting him out of wearing his protection to bed, he’d have a terrible messy accident which merely confirmed that it was too soon. She also said that if he continued to mess his diaper that she’d put him in a little smock, like they used to wear when she was a little girl. It was for all children who were yet to be toilet trained because it made access to change their pielucha that much easier. Bronislav desperately wanted to see his brother reduced to this state and the idea of Amadei’s soggy pielucha hanging down waiting to be changed appealed to his ‘other side’. Perhaps not quite a ‘dark side’ but he did enjoy the control and power that his abilities had granted and couldn’t wait to investigate further. To try and emphasise the point he brought out toys that had been put away many years before and scattered around his brother’s bed to accentuate his childishness and no amount of denials by Amadei to his mother for making the bedroom an untidy playground were believed. His older brother even planted other thoughts deep in his subconscious so that at certain trigger words he would unintentionally mess himself. This was particularly effective at school when in math his teacher mentioned ‘Pythagoras’ and he’d immediately pissed himself in front of the entire class. Another such word was ‘vault’, which had a similar messy result during gym. Wearing only a vest and a tiny pair of white short; that was an embarrassment he didn’t get over, especially when it happened a few more times and the principal insisted that he wear protection to school in future. Amadei’s treatment wasn’t over when he got home as his older brother would pat his diapered butt and mock him, but his mother saw this happen too many times to let it go so, as punishment, insisted that Bronislav change his brother’s messy diapers. At first the older sibling tried to rebel but his mother was adamant that if he thought his brother’s unfortunate situation was something to make fun of then he needed to know otherwise. However, Bronislav actually didn’t mind cleaning up his brother because it gave him more power over him and because of part suggestion and part deviousness; he managed to get his brother to wear thicker diapers and more childish outfits. He liked that the well-padded diaper emasculated his brother so not only was he no longer a threat to any one, he also looked like he was no longer a threat. Both his parents were shocked at this change but Bronislav managed to make his little brother kick off; screaming, shouting and generally creating if he was taken out of his more ‘colourful’ clothing. He also saw to it that the diaper was more than just a little bit visible, puffing out over the waistband or appearing bulky and immense under his pants. At his suggestion his mother also bought thick plastic pants to help protect his clothes from the constant dampness of his pielucha, so that also became part of the young Amadei’s procedure. In fact, it was that visibility that Bronislav began to find a bit of a turn on. He found handling his brother’s protection, the texture and glossy feel of the plastic gave him a raging hard on. The parents had no idea what their oldest son was up to, or how successful he’d been, they were just relieved that their young son had somehow been curbed from his predatory behaviour. They attributed this fact to their firm but fair parenting. ~ After their father’s death Bronislav’s mother returned to Poland to run a care home together with her ‘mentally challenged’ son: The effect that his older brother’s constant suggestions, affirmations and implants had sent Amadei into a downward spiral of diaper dependency from which he would never recover. Their father had been a successful town planner in Poland before he emigrated with his young family. It took some time to establish himself but after a few years he’d made a name as an architect and designer and formed his own company. Business was doing well when he died but his eldest son, who had learned at his father’s side, took over the business and helped it grow. With various take-overs and mergers the company he now led was worth several million. His mother never forgot her nursing background and if truth was known, had never wanted to leave her homeland in the first place, but her husband had insisted it would be a better life for them… and it was. However, with his death came her yearning to return home so, armed with a considerable amount of money and with her nursing background, she invested in the one thing she always wanted to have, her own care home. It also meant that her son, like all the others at the facility got attention 24 hours a day, seven days a week. ~ The young and successful Bronislav created a firm that reaped loads of government building contracts. Those in the business couldn’t work out how this ‘Pole’ (as they tried to dismiss his ethnicity) kept gaining more and more lucrative work. The company designed and built, planned and developed so much that their competitors grew suspicious but could never pin down just what it was. In meetings Mr Wojciechowski Junior had such a calm and studied way of describing his ideas that those with the power to grant planning permission and award contracts did just that. Meanwhile, back at ‘Evergreen’, as a memory and a tribute to his ability to influence others, Bronislav had depicted his younger brother on the nursery wall as the little baby he’d reduced him to. The cheerful marching toddler, proudly displaying his nation’s colours and thick diaper was the first but he wasn’t going to be the last. ~ Bronislav started studying with intensity; psychology, hypnosis, mind altering drugs, sound waves that affect the brain… anything he could get his hands on. He’d been pleased in what he’d achieved with his brother and wanted to learn more. He read everything on the subject, whilst at the same time learned his father’s business. Bronislav was a very talented and clever student and absorbed information very quickly. ~ Years later there was the uniform wearing Klaus, the hitch-hiking scout he picked up who wanted a lift to a town twenty-five miles away. He never made it. With a few knockout drops in a friendly offered soda and a few weeks of intensive retraining he became his first real Executive Toy. He wasn’t as easy to influence as his brother had been but all that he needed was a little help in coming to terms with his new position in life. Blond haired Klaus was a spectacular looking young seventeen year-old athletic, intelligent and confident youth. Watching him crawling around in his thick white diaper, sucking on his thumb and playing with his favourite pink teddy bear gave Mr W a constant horn in his pants. On the cartoon wall he was the jolly little Boy Scout in the brightly coloured neckerchief, with matching gaily coloured plastic pants, which ballooned because of the thick diaper underneath. Klaus had been Mr W’s toy for six months and had been a constant joy in what he could get his ‘little’ boy to do. However, despite him being young in age he was still growing and though at times it was fun to see such a sweet boy in a diaper, Mr W had business distractions that meant he couldn’t give him the attention he needed. Thankfully, a friend of Mr W’s who had a similar love of ‘babies’ asked if he could adopt him. So, he was now living with a dentist out in the suburbs as a three year-old toddler and had been for the past three years. The third cartoon image on the wall was of Brent, a sweet little run-away from the south, who found sanctuary with the incredibly generous and helpful Mr Wojciechowski, the man who gave him money, treated him to a meal and even better, treated him as a person and not some kid to be knocked around. Mr. W insisted that Brent should make his own way in life but the boy, barely out of school, thought he was onto a winner by milking this Good Samaritan of all he could. The offer of a bed and a bath for the night had won the suspicious, though opportunistic, boy over but that was also what sealed his fate. Mr W discovered the young man tiptoeing out of his house the following morning with his pockets loaded with stolen items and cash… he didn’t feel quite so guilty in quickly getting the boy into diapers. Bronislav was not forgiving and commenced a very deep and fierce programme of rehabilitation that included the complete destruction of the lad’s understanding of the world around him. He would perhaps have been happy to be forced to wear diapers and act like a toddler but instead he was regressed back to being a six month old baby with no ability to do anything more than what a child of that age could do. On the wall he was depicted as a cartoon raccoon - well he was a baby wearing a bandit’s mask, a cartoon style raccoon short onesie with swag over flowing from his huge prison-striped diaper that could be seen bulging out from his leg holes. Like Klaus, he was found a family who wanted a baby so now lived back in his native south, with a mommy and daddy who wanted a perpetual child. When he delivered Brent to his new parents he was wearing only a thick pretty pink diaper and cover, a small pink smock that came down to his hips, a pink bonnet and a pink pacifier, the couple hadn’t decided if they wanted a boy or a girl so Bronislav left them with the option. How it all ended up he didn’t know as he didn’t keep in contact with the families who took either of his previous ‘toys’. ~ Now there was Charlie - he’d already decided what image he should have of him on the wall. He’ll be wearing his tight little short green fleecy coverall with the giraffe emblazoned on the front. His green diaper and plastic pants will be visible like they were in the photograph of him with his parents on the promenade. Meanwhile, he’d got very, very fond of the boy. He loved the quick way he’d taken to being a toddler. He loved the fun they had together. He loved cuddling the boy when watching TV and he even loved watching him sleep. Charlie was different to the others and his floppy-haired innocence as he hugged the giraffe and suckled on his paci just reinforced that view - Charlie was the best toddler in the world. There were times when Mr W envied Charlie. He wished that somehow he could regress himself and that they’d be the same age to play together in a pure toddler world where everything was brand new, exciting and an adventure. The constant audio that sent sound waves and words of reinforcement directly into Charlie’s head had no effect on his Dada. It wouldn’t be possible to do that to himself but, he wondered, if he got Charlie a friend to play with, it wouldn’t only be nicer for him to have a playmate, but Dada could watch as the two little imps develop and interact. A new thought entered his head but he knew, with Charlie’s disappearance, he’d have to be very careful with what he planned on doing. ~ Mr Wojciechowski knew that Kevin was very grateful for having a job. He was on a government programme where companies took on young school leavers who, let’s say, had a past. Kevin had been in and out of foster homes from being a baby, all his young life he’d reacted badly to authority and so had got into trouble enough times to send him to a juvenile correction facility, where he learned quickly what to do to survive. Thankfully, the powers that be had decided, after his sentence to give him a try at a real job and the government stumped up the cash if anyone would take him on. At his interview he came over very well, confident but not as boastful or full of attitude like other eighteen year-olds that had applied for jobs in the past. He was personable and his back story had hit the hearts of the three people in the human resources department who had interviewed him. He was in. The job was menial; collecting and distributing mail, collecting files, organising the lounge and conference rooms and making sure they were clean, tidy and had whatever refreshments or stationary were required. He did his work well and was always cheerful around the office so was well-liked, so it wasn’t long before he caught the eye of Mr Wojciechowski. Kevin had learned a lot in his young life and, when he thought he might be laid off like many other members of the staff, he went and hoped to persuade the boss to keep him on. Mr W was surprised when young Kevin came to see him, and even more surprised that the boy wasn’t aware that the government paid for him to work, he decided he wouldn’t share that info, who, in an effort to impress his boss, got down on his knees and performed oral sex. Once he came, and it had to be said he’d got a load of pent up jizz bubbling in his balls, Mr W told the slobbering youngster that he had a bright future with the firm and that it was safe in his hands. The grateful youth promised that anytime Mr W needed some ‘relief’ he’d be only too pleased to be of service. ~ The huge company ‘audit’ that had just happened and the laying off of staff had actually been the preliminaries to a possible take-over bid. Mr Wojciechowski had seen it coming and knew it was only a matter of time before the hawks would fly in and take the company whilst it was at its lowest ebb. However, the owners, the executive directors, would make quite a tidy sum if the company was swallowed up some bigger conglomerate so financially they had little to fear. Mr Wojciechowski had decided that it was time to retire and pursue his real interests so, began to take a back seat in the running of the company and attended the office only when needed. Kevin had been called upon to perform his services only occasionally though Mr W would have preferred a more regular arrangement – for someone so young and sweet he was very good. Like he had with Charlie he’d thought about trying to persuade the sexy little mail boy to adopt diapers as a preferred form of underwear but decided on a different course of action - though one he hoped would produce the same result. However, with Charlie missing it would be inconceivable that should a second youth disappear that flags wouldn’t start to wave. As Kevin was on his knees and enjoying slurping on his boss, the man himself was planting thoughts and ideas into the boy’s head. With his ability of being able to influence other people’s mind he convinced the boy, with the promise that they should set up home together, to make preparations to leave the company. Kevin loved the thought of shacking up with a good-looking millionaire, especially as that millionaire was saying they had a life together. However, Mr W pointed out that initially, and because of the obvious age difference, and to avoid any police suspicions, they needed a plan. Mr W told Kevin that he needed to start having rows with his carers at home, so much so that they would be glad to see the back of him when he eventually ran off. He needed to sound a bit disgruntled around the office, complain a bit and mess up some of the things he needed to do – be late, belligerent and disrespectful. The boy wasn’t going to know what the final outcome of all this was going to be but he played his part to perfection. After a couple of weeks of venting his anger and frustration with the world he had to declare that he couldn’t stand it anymore, tell them all to go fuck themselves, pack a bag and as much money as could muster and storm out. Mr W would arrange to pick him up at a secret location and then they could start their new life together. Kevin loved the plan and within two weeks he’d done what he had to do; angered enough people, threw aggressive fits and generally disrupted what had become a pleasant life. On that final day and only three hours after storming out of the house (and a performance that any actor would have been proud of), he was standing under a tree in the deserted countryside excitedly waiting for his ride from the rich man who wanted to look after him. He was so excited at the prospect he was standing with a stiff dick in his jeans. **** tbc

Part 5 I could tell that the moment for sex had passed, and despite being pretty frustrated realised he’d moved on to another part of getting me settled in. It may have just been the relaxed way everything had been done; no drama, no uneasy situations, no questions even; he had simply got on with it in a suitably expert manner. However, now I wore only a diaper and plastic pants it didn’t feel as strange as perhaps it should. Before, when I had worn them under my suit, it all felt bulky and very awkward at times but now, well, unhindered it felt… natural. I know it was still fairly cumbersome but it just didn’t feel that way. When I looked through the clear plastic to my thick terry cloth diaper I smiled that the pins had little plastic kittens covering the bit that enclosed the sharp pin – Daddy was certainly making sure I didn’t get hurt by a wayward pin prick. The pristine white of the fabric certainly filled out the front of the see-thru cover and the smooth, glossy quality gave no illusions that I was anything but a little boy who still needed protection. Yes, I’m eighteen (I think) but now, in my current state, I was certainly beginning to feel like a toddler. I wriggled in my diaper, distinguishing its layered properties between my skin and the floor. Meanwhile, the inflated proportions out front gave a sense of complete slippery security. My boss was no longer my boss but a man who took delight in caring for his chosen subject, and no matter how weird it might appear to be, dressing a teenager as a baby, I felt completely safe and more than happy to comply… I also didn’t feel like a toy, executive or otherwise, I felt… loved. Daddy looked down on me and smiled the most wonderful of proud smiles and I must have gone several shades of pink as the blush seemed to start at my face and travel right down my body. He’d previously said that it was something he found stress-relieving and I could see it in his less strained face. At work, whilst we’d been occupied achieving the audit he had looked under a great deal of pressure, we all had. However, now, as he gazed down at me I could vouch that what we were doing together must indeed be good for him… he looked years younger. I know I thought I could get him away from this ‘baby complex’ but a nervous, excited tremor ran through my body when I realised just how much I was enjoying it and wanted to be a part of it. Again I wondered – how did he know? He helped me to my feet and, guided by his hand, padded happily back into the nursey. He sat me on the sofa and went off to one of the closets and brought back a large, fluffy pale green fleecy blanket. When he sat down next to me I was pulled onto his lap and he placed an arm around my shoulder and drew the blanket up over my semi-naked body. The fabric’s texture was wonderful and so soft to the touch; it was like stroking a little kitten and I would have been happy to do nothing more than sit there enjoying the comfort of such a delightful cover. I wiggled in contentment as I lay in his warm embrace and mentioned that I thought all clothes should be made from that same fabric because it was so nice to touch. Daddy nodded in agreement as we both snuggled under its cosiness. ~ Since I’d arrived at ‘Evergreen’, the house that was now my home, I’d had a strange but wonderful feeling of total… peace. I’m not sure if there was something in the air, or the constant low but enchanting music that was played in every room, or I was simply happy to be in Mr… er… Daddy’s company, whatever the reason I remained happy and content about all that was happening to me. Before I arrived, and in some of the considerations I’d had while explaining to mum and dad about my new job, I’d wondered how I would react to his diaper regime. However, there was absolutely no denying that now I was here, dressed in a thick protection, a paci in my mouth and cuddling onto a fleecy blanket, I was incredibly happy – yet I wasn’t sure why. This wasn’t the way I expected my life to progress so was a bit confused as to why I’d accepted all this so easily and why I felt so deliriously grateful and happy? I wasn’t sure of… anything, yet here I was, snuggling up to my boss, my Daddy and loving every minute of it. It was bizarre that I was beginning to look like a toddler; apart from the recently boyishly re-styled hair on my head I was hairless, I was enjoying the snuggling, I was enjoying wearing my protection, and once in that protection, thoughts of anything but pleasing Daddy and being the little boy he wanted vanished with each hug and cuddle. I don’t think I’d ever felt happier and the urge I had for us to have sex seemed to be diminishing the more comfortable I became. ~ We watched a Disney cartoon feature. It was funny, colourful and on occasions brought a tear to my eye but, held by Daddy, who seemed to be the best cuddler in the world, I watched transfixed and excited through the entire movie. He held me and calmed me when I got animated over something on screen - he rubbed my bare tummy, he caressed my brow, he patted my naked leg and stroked that silky mound that hid my cock so deeply underneath. I was in kiddie-heaven and in just a matter of what seemed like moments, had regressed to being the infant he wanted; keen and excited about everything and even childishly denying I was sleepy when I’d actually fallen asleep for a few minutes in his strong arms. Once the movie finished I became wide-awake again and we chatted about what I was like as a baby. In fact, he’d asked me to bring a photo of when I was small so he could see just exactly what I was like. I waddled to my case which had been placed on top of a gaily painted box with ‘TOYS’ and characters printed all over it and unzipped a pocket on the side where I’d left the images. My plastic pants rustled with each movement but I found the sound reassuring as I ‘ran’ back to Daddy. ~ I’d brought two photographs; the first had my parents on either side of me as we walked along the promenade at the seaside. Each was holding a hand whilst I was in the middle being swung between them. I must have been about eighteen months old, had blond hair, although now I’m dark, was wearing a blue and white striped short bib-and-brace set with a cartoon giraffe on the front, a blue t-shirt, whilst my little white plastic sandals set the entire picture off. I was obviously screaming with delight and you could see my thick diaper up my shorts leg as I was being swung into the air and also the few pop-studs up the legs and across the crotch that gave them easy access when I needed changing. The other photograph was of me sitting in a toy car, the type you put some money in at the mall and it vrooms and beeps for a few minutes while the young occupant pretends he’s driving. Again I’m smiling, wearing a yellow t-shirt with a different giraffe on the front, little grey shorts, which again displays the diaper over the waistband, and a pair of sunglasses, so I assumed, though I couldn’t quite remember, that we might still have been on vacation somewhere. Daddy loved them. He was constantly stroking my padded bum as he looked at them. “Do you like giraffes?” “Mmm, yes, they’re my favourite animal. I used to have a stuffed giraffe as my special… you know… friend I wouldn’t go to bed without having with me.” I wondered if I’d made myself clear but he was nodding so I knew all was well. I loved his smile. His entire face lit up and it made me feel wonderful to know it was me who was making him beam. It was odd because I felt exactly the same way when I was a toddler when my parents smiled at me if I did something that pleased them. So I enthused more about the selection of plushies I had as a kid; Helen, my teddy, Spanky the lop-eared rabbit, Kermit the Frog, Boris the beagle and Wally the wallaby. I also had loads of small teddies but I couldn’t remember all their names. Daddy seemed pleased with my list and took me to inspect the array of stuffed animals that surrounded the walls of the nursery. He said that they were all mine to play with but wondered which one would become my ‘special’ friend, the one who would be sleeping with me every night. I spotted a giraffe amongst the gathering and picked him out to join us on the sofa. ~ As I sat and made a tent out of the blanket for me and Jeremy (the giraffe) to hide under, Daddy went off to get us some food. I was expecting pizza and beer but instead I got a bowl of macaroni cheese and a warm bottle of milk. The milk was in a baby’s bottle so I had to suck out its contents, which took a bit of getting used to and though Daddy offered to feed me, I did that myself. He ate a huge sandwich and washed it down with a glass of white wine, which I looked longingly at. Having said that, it’s not like I’m a big drinker but I thought we might celebrate or something. In the end we clashed my bottle and his glass together, said ‘Cheers’ and drank our drink. I asked him about alcohol and he was very specific that because he saw me as a child, a baby in fact, there would be nothing for me that he wouldn’t expect a baby to eat or drink… so alcohol was a definite no-no. The same rule applied to just about everything; if it wasn’t what a baby would do or be expected to do, wear or be expected to wear, speak and know when not to, it wasn’t going to happen. I had noticed, when I’d had my bath, there wasn’t a toilet in there so I was expected to use the diaper for everything. No point in asking because it wasn’t going to happen, I wore diapers for a reason and a big boy’s toilet was out of the question. This I thought was going to be a problem but I soon found out otherwise. ~ I had no idea of time so after the food and drink Daddy wiped my face and the slight mess I’d dripped onto my bare chest, and said it was time little ones were in bed. I was about to complain but a huge yawn caught me in mid-sentence so that brought any argument to a swift conclusion. He slipped his fingers under my plastic pants to check my diaper, I was reasonably dry (a few dribbles of excitement had managed to escape when I was watching the movie) and he looked happy. He went over to one of the closets and I could see a vast array of colourful baby clothes hung up and other items stacked in neat piles. He selected something and brought it back to the sofa. “OK buster,” he said in a mock gangster voice, “get those hands in the air.” I surrendered immediately and did as he said, giggling as a pale blue onesie was pulled over my head and fastened between my legs; the bulky protection puffing out the thin fabric which surprisingly held it together. He slipped a pair of pale blue soft flannel socks over each foot and then led me shuffling towards the crib. Although I’d seen the crib earlier it had never occurred to me that I would actually be expected to sleep in it, I assumed we’d be sleeping together. I was about to mention this when he slipped in a blue pacifier, pulled down the rail and, with his hand gently pushing against my thickly padded bottom, guided me in. Once again I felt powerless to do anything but comply. The music that was constantly being played gently in the background changed to a lullaby theme. Daddy found a book and started reading a Winnie the Pooh story. I was sure I wasn’t tired but after a few minutes I felt my eyes closing even before Daddy had finished the first chapter. I fell asleep gently caressing the immensity of my diaper underneath the tightly fitting onesie. The bulky mound offered silky comfort even though I could no longer feel my genitals, which recently had often been raging for release. It was probably only a few consoling strokes before I fell under the spell of the soft music, the softer blanket, cuddling Jeremy and the pleasant, reassuring tones of Daddy’s story-telling. ~ I woke up to the sound of chirping birds. A slight yellow glow filled the room as my eyes adjusted to the surroundings and I became aware that it was morning. Jeremy was laid by my side and the paci had somehow got itself stuck to my cheek. I felt unperturbed listening to the sound of birdsong, which merged with the usual soft but constant music, until I realised that I must have wet myself in my sleep. In fact, I became aware that I’d done more than just peed in my diaper, I’d filled it completely. I didn’t understand how I could have done such a thing, yet there was no denying that I had. The side bars on the crib had been raised and it felt for a moment like I was lying in jail but of course there were no bars across the top so, as I slowly and tentatively dragged myself up into a sitting position, I took in all that was around me. The room appeared well equipped for a toddler to have the most fun. It was bright, colourful and decorated with happy characters from nursery rhymes and kid’s books. There were several large boxes with the word ‘TOYS’ emblazoned across them and the white closets and draws made the entire place look clean and well maintained. A wide shelf reached along one wall and that was backed by a mirror that also ran its length. Diapers, both disposable and fabric, were piled at either end, along with a rail that held a multitude of colourful diaper covers and plastic pants. On a shelf above all that were a vast selection off bottles and containers, wipes and pins and other things I couldn’t identify from my restricted vantage point. That area was obviously the changing station and, as that thought took hold, I looked down to see the yellow, discoloured diaper under my clear plastic pants. Guiltily I checked the bedding under my padded bottom and was relieved that nothing had leaked but I was feeling a bit uncomfortable and wondered if I could get up and change myself. ~ No sooner had I thought about getting up than Daddy opened the door. “Good morning little fella,” he said striding to my crib side, “did you sleep well?” He was wearing a white vest, under a grey unzipped hoodie and white shorts. He was sweating and looked like he’d just been on a long run; his dark blue trainers adding to the image of my sporty Daddy. I beamed automatically at him. Not only was I pleased to see him but he looked so healthy and sexy I was sure, under normal circumstances, my cock would have burst through the diaper in greeting. However, I was wet and messy and any sexual thoughts may well have been lying in the muck I was sitting in. He reached in and slid fingers under the plastic protection. “Who’s a messy boy then?” I was a little bit embarrassed but not as much as I thought I would be after such a mishap. It helped that there was no accusation in his words as he slid down the crib rail and helped me to my feet. Those grown up thoughts of embarrassment and shame were soon escaping my head and I was happy to let Daddy take charge. Cautiously, guided by his encouragement and firm hand on my soggy bottom, I waddled over to the diaper station where he effortlessly lifted me up and laid me on a soft plastic mat. ~ Within seconds the poppers on my onesie were open and he was sliding my plastic pants down my legs. My diaper felt heavy and full so he carefully unpinned it and gingerly opened it up. He gave a mock grimace. “Mmm, I think my baby needed that didn’t he?” I didn’t really know how to respond to that, this was the first time since I was an actual baby that I’d messed myself - a slight whimper was my response. He could see me struggling with what happened and the slight guilt that was creeping through my body. “Well don’t let it worry my little cutie,” he said reassuringly, “diapers and poo are made to go together and I’m proud of my boy….” He slipped a new paci between my lips as he continued to clean, wash, lotion and powder my groin. Being looked after and the centre of Daddy’s world was such a wonderful feeling, I squirmed and giggled as he continued his ministrations. He took his time and was very meticulous making sure I was spotless and well prepared before he grabbed a disposable and tightly wrapped me in it. All the time he was smiling and sweet baby-talking as I lay placid and gurgled behind my paci. He’d prepared a double diaper, so I suppose he wanted me well protected, but before he let me up his hands scooted along the rail of covers until he found something he thought suitable. From my position I could only just see his fingers linger over a pair of green plastic pants. His face lit up and he pulled them from the hanger they were on and held them up for me to see. They were bright green with little brown diapered baby bears all over them. I don’t think he was waiting for my approval as he said that his little baby boy was going to be playing all day and needed extra protection. Indeed, the plastic was very heavy and stiff and crinkled loudly as he rolled them up my thighs and over the layered diapers. ~ I was chuckling to myself but a sudden wave of comprehension flooded my mind. How on earth had I got to such a situation where this was acceptable? Yet here I was absolutely loving every minute of it all and I could feel myself responding positively to everything being done. So no sooner had the notion materialized than it was fading just as quickly. As he was getting me ready his words became more and more geared toward a toddler and I responded with similar clipped and juvenile jargon, whether the paci was in my mouth or not. It just seemed so appropriate. Once my new voluminous plastic pants were in place I sat up, accompanied by some very loud crinkling and he unfurled a new matching green t-shirt to slide over my head. It didn’t hide the diaper. In fact, Daddy ran his hand over and around the entire glossy package, it was if he was checking not only was I well-padded but that any trace of my erogenous zones were completely obliterated. “We don’t want Daddy’s little sweetheart to be bothered by anything grown up do we? He ran his hand over my silky bulge as if checking to see if my cock had disappeared. “Let’s get him back to being a lovely little baby shall we?” His words smothered my mind and I nodded and tittered in total compliance. “No pee-pee to worry about except for wetting his lovely comfy diaper… wont that be more fun… eh?” The tight plastic gripped around my legs and tummy so he seemed content that access and exit were completely restricted. However, it didn’t matter to me because we went over to one of the toy boxes and rummaged around to find something to play with. I checked in all three big boxes and there were loads and loads of different toys; dolls, building bricks, cars, spaceships, plushies, castles, dinosaurs, animals, colouring books - everything. There was no stopping me as I slid back to when I was a toddler and the fun I used to have; my powers of invention always ran riot as I played on my own (and with imaginary friends) there were no restrictions. I always loved immersing myself in a day full of play and happy to keep myself amused - there was plenty here for me to do that. ~ I was quite enjoying rushing around wearing little more than my protection. Without anything to hinder or bunch up I soon got into the best way of walking and moving around in general. Because most of the time I was on the floor playing, crawling, either on my hands and knees or snakelike on my belly, seemed a very accomplished way to get from one place to another. Pushing a toy car, making the screaming noise of a tyrannosaurus or scooting around on my slippery bum also appeared to help cover great expanses of the nursery as I skidded across the room. When not working on his laptop Daddy came and played with me. He said he wanted to keep a record of my time with him and as I looked so adorable he started by measuring and weighing me before taking photographs with his phone. From different angles and no matter what I was doing I’d see Daddy capturing some of the ‘amazing’ things I was doing - he kept saying I was the best little boy in the world and we should have a record of my accomplishments. We assembled all manner of buildings together and Lego became a colourful coliseum, a castle, a tower block and a garage where I kept my imaginary fleet of expensive limos, a launch pad – I wanted to take Daddy to visit the stars. Playing and having fun was all that mattered and we only stopped for food and drink, whilst my thick diaper absorbed the occasion dribble from my little pee-pee. By the time it was time to change my diaper was thick, full and immense. I’d played most of the day in such a state and it hadn’t worried me in the slightest. What I was wearing, how I was wearing it had no bearing on me as long as I could play and Daddy was around for hugs - that was all that mattered. It all felt hazy and nice. “I wuv my Dada.” **** tbc

Thanks for the encouragement Part 4 My ‘career’ had just come to an end. The employment start I had hoped to gain over my friends who had gone off to university looked like it had been a bad move and as I sucked on my paci I realised I had absolutely nothing to lose from accepting his proposition. I nodded. Mr Wojciechows, sorry, Daddy smiled and hugged me tightly to his chest before saying he had more people to see and that I should pull on my pants and go home. Whilst he stroked my shiny, slippery padded bottom he added. “As far as anyone else is concerned, you have been made redundant so no one else needs to know of our arrangement.” I understood but a sudden thought hit me - why had he got that box of diapers and things already on his desk, was it in anticipation of this moment, was he so confident I’d agree to anything or, and this is what really bothered me, was it for someone else? Kevin maybe? He saw me looking at the box as he sorted through a few of the babyish items it contained. “I was going to take these back home,” he spoke quietly as if half to himself. “I’d had them here for ages but, what with all the recent activity… and you not looking like you were interested… I thought…” “Erm, I wondered if they were for Kevin?” I mumbled, pretending it was an off-hand comment. “Kevin?” He looked surprised, “Why Kevin?” I had to get this off my chest so thought I’d just jump straight in with my theory. “I saw him enter this office and not leave for ages, I wondered if you’d found somebody else...” As I saw the look on his face my voice trailed off awkwardly. “He’s a bright boy but,” he looked like he was talking to a befuddled toddler, “he’d heard the rumours about lay-offs and wanted to know if he needed to find another job.” “Does he?” “Not really because his position is paid for by the government. We get a grant to employ young, sixteen year-old school leavers so in fact, for the next couple of years he has the most secure job in the company.” I wished I’d been a sixteen year-old school leaver and didn’t have to worry but he continued. “He was very thankful and surprisingly very emotional with relief so I let him settle his feelings before he went back out into the office.” He looked at me struggling to get back into my pants, pulling the damn things over the bulky diaper and smiled an understanding smile. “You thought he’d taken your place?” Now I was just too embarrassed to speak so shrugged and eventually got my pants up and zipped. “Charlie,” I didn’t really want to look directly at him but he put his hand under my chin and guided me so we were eye-to-eye. His short, slightly greying hair and those piercing, yet friendly grey eyes gave the appearance of an adult trying to placate a distressed child. “Charlie, it’s you I want but I don’t want you to feel trapped so, go home now and think about my offer.” He passed me a card with his personal number. “These past few weeks have been very stressful and if truth be known I could have done with you being around when I got home.” He helped me to my feet. “I suggest you collect your stuff and leave and, after you’ve had time to think, let me know if you accept my offer. I…” “Yes.” I interrupted. “Yes, what?” He looked quizzically at me. “Yes I agree to be your personal assistant, your little boy, your… baby.” A look of relief eased his face muscles. “Are you sure?” “Yes,” I replied as enthusiastically as I could. “Let’s start as soon as possible.” “Ohhh Charlie.” And we hugged for what seemed ages before Miss Thorpe came on the intercom and told him his next appointment had arrived. ~ I talked everything over with my parents, well, not exactly everything but I let them know it was a big new opportunity for me and I was very excited about the project. I think I sold it pretty well and they didn’t seem too worried about the fact that it was a live-in position. It felt weird telling them all about my supposed ‘plans and ambitions’ whilst I fidgeted nervously around in the diaper I’d been told to wear all the time. My outward enthusiasm was for their benefit because inwardly I still wasn’t completely sure. Having said that, I wasn’t focusing on that particular aspect as I assumed we would be having riotous sex on every available occasion and that was far more appealing than anything else. I’d told mum and dad that for the first part of the job I was going to be away as we were spending a week or so touring the company’s building sites around the country to make assessments and develop new ideas. In truth it did sound very exciting and I wasn’t surprised that they were happy for me to ‘fulfil my destiny’. In fact, they were very encouraging and said they were incredibly proud of me, which made me feel a bit ashamed of the lie I was spinning and the diaper never seemed more appropriate because I felt like a naughty little kid. ~ It was 7pm when I arrived at the solid black and silver door of ‘Evergreen’. Mr Wojciechowski, wearing jeans and a polo shirt greeted me with a huge smile. Up until then I’d only ever seen him dressed in a suit but this casual look made him appear so much younger, more attractive and my cock immediately sprung to attention. I imagine I’m not the first teenager to be led by his dick into an area he doesn’t really understand but I was soon getting a taste of what was expected of me. The sex I thought we’d immediately fall into just didn’t happen. He took me to the nursery, which I’d temporarily forgotten about, and told me this was my new ‘home’. I was pulling my case packed with my clothes behind me and he said I wouldn’t need anything; from now on he would decide and provide… everything. ~ Perhaps it was strange that I should have gotten so close to my boss but I’d never had any friends who I confided in as much as him as we drove between sites. Although throughout my school life I was likable, I was mainly very shy, I didn’t push myself; I didn’t make friends easily and kept myself to myself. So, starting work, finding someone who took an instant liking to me and one whose company I enjoyed had been a real thrill. I still wasn’t sure how all this was going to work – with me acting like a baby. He’d tempted me so much with that first taste of sex, although I wondered how he knew I’d react to his sexual (if indeed it was sexual) advance. I know our trips out from work to the building sites had been fantastic. We’d chatted about everything - from when his family emigrated from Poland to my first day at school and all points in between. He was terrific company and so easy to speak with, even though he was so much older than me it never felt that way when there was just the two of us. We got on really well and I suppose I’d been giving off signals that I wasn’t aware of, though in truth, I loved it when he did make that move. I wanted a boyfriend and right then and there, with his lips around my cock, he seemed the perfect choice. Even when he then put me in diapers I thought – OK, if this is what it takes – I know it should have seemed odd but it didn’t. Actually, that’s not true. When he put me in diapers I didn’t think about it, it just happened, it seemed like a done deal. I think it was only later, when I got home and was wearing what I was that I thought – if this is what it takes – I certainly didn’t want to lose his friendship. You might think I was being a bit desperate but with the few old school friends I had away at university I was spending a lot of my time on my own. I mean it wasn’t like I was abandoning all my mates because, well, they just weren’t around anymore. My parents were great and supportive as always but I think I was in desperate need of something physical. ~ He guided me past the large crib, past piles of toys, past the large TV screen, past the closets and draws full of I don’t know what and said that he was looking forward to our first night together. So was I. I could feel my aching cock trapped behind the diaper folds and couldn’t wait to feel his lips caressing it once again. Perhaps, I wondered, might I be expected to service him? I hadn’t seen his cock so had no idea what I’d signed up for and suddenly got a bit frightened of the thought he might be massive. I was relatively still a virgin so how was I going to cope? I decided I’d learn quickly as I was sure that Mr Wojciechowski, sorry, Daddy, would want to know my abilities fairly soon. Alas, he just guided me to the large bathroom off from the nursey and asked me to strip. My mind was wandering if we might be taking a shower together, or a bubble bath, either might be fun, so I eagerly began to remove my clothes. He ran the bath and indeed filled it with loads of bubbles. Once I was down to the disposable and the pink plastic pants he’d told me to wear he asked me to stop. He ran his hands over the smooth, shiny bulk and again told me how damn cute I was and how much I suited wearing a diaper. His words were soft and persuasive and wrapped themselves around me like a comforting blanket. I was enjoying the attention and the compliments. His touch was electrifying and I trembled, almost ecstatically, as his assurances and caresses sent sensation after sensation through my body. I closed my eyes and let myself drift in the miasma the steamy bathroom, his gentle touch and his soothing words played with the total experience of my well-being. ~ Back in the office Mr Wojciechowski had always been the quietly spoken boss. I remember when we first started going to the sites together how everyone he talked to listened rapped and attentive to what he had to say. I couldn’t remember him ever having to raise his voice and now, as he was about to bathe me, his seductive voice dripped like a soothing molasses over my thoughts. It was the same on that first time I came back to this place and he told me he liked me. Each admiring comment made me shudder with delight and made me desperate to please this man. So caught up in my revelry I missed some of the things he was saying - each touch delivering jolt after jolt of pleasure to my brain and I was consumed in the moment. He’d asked me something but I just moaned my approval/consent as another ripple of electricity tingled through my nervous system. Oh God, I was euphoric. Again, it was like it was happening on another plane altogether because I sensed him gently peel down my plastic pants, followed by a leisurely release from my surprisingly wet diaper. He guided me into the bath and, as I stood, trance-like to his touch, he slipped on a plastic apron and slowly began soaping my entire body. Lotions and potions were smoothed everywhere, never before had I been so thoroughly cleansed, and I loved it. He clipped my hair and the thrill of the scissors, and his plastic apron, occasionally making subtle contact with my skin sent me off into further spasms of delight. He then lay me down amidst all the bubbles and sponged away the soothing and rejuvenating lotions. My cock had been rock hard from the moment I’d entered his home, our home, but he was letting me enjoy the long and achingly hot wait for orgasm. ~ When sure that my entire body had been completely scrubbed by his roving sponge I was helped from the bath and laid on a huge towel. Once dry he administered more soothing creams and unguents mainly around my bottom and groin. His occasional playful flick of my still throbbing cock was met by a tremor of pleasure. As the beautifying balms where palmed into my pubic area, I hardly noticed that my hair, all my body hair, had now disappeared. I was strangely smooth, and although I thought it weird, at the same time it felt wonderful. I was in the safekeeping of a consummate artist, a man who knew what he wanted and was quite happy to take his time in getting it just right. I felt extremely peaceful in his hands and at that moment he could have done anything he wanted and I would have agreed. Now I was how he wanted me, naked and hair-free, I was hopeful that at last he’d take me in his mouth, or in hand, and work my throbbing, leaking dick to a final conclusion. Instead he powdered and slipped a thick fabric diaper under my bum. I wanted to complain and demand that he play with my cock but he started tickling my tummy, playing with my toes and making me giggle so much I couldn’t get the words out. The diaper, with more padding than I’d encountered before was pulled together and pinned into place trapping my cock behind its thick cotton embrace. I wanted to scream “No not yet” but he slotted a blue paci between my lips and waited until I started to suck. A pair of enormous see-thru plastic pants was then pulled up, which captured and held everything in place and almost magically I relaxed and let ‘Daddy’ completely take charge. **** tbc

Part 3 The office maintained its heightened state as we continued to work nonstop; compiling, checking and re-checking plans, permits, building supplies, inventories, pay, bills, government licenses, authorizations… in fact everything. It looked like the firm was being audited for some reason as we had to find data going back many years. It was intense and hectic but, now I wasn’t wearing a diaper under my suit, I was more comfortable and able to concentrate. Having said that, I did miss that liberating moment I’d experienced in being able to take a leak without leaving my desk. A rumour also circulated that all this extra work would eventually lead to some dismissals. Nobody knew exactly where the cuts would be made or to which department but the general atmosphere of pending doom made sure we all worked hard, kept are heads down and tried to make ourselves as indispensable as possible. The other two bosses had gone off to inspect various sites where we had building developments and Mr Wojciechowski stayed behind to work in the main office. I’d stopped reporting to be inspected and I tried to ignore him when he passed my desk. A couple of times he’d stop to request something and actually looked hurt when I was officious but distant. I was still selfishly frustrated about his apparent lack of appreciation for what I’d done to try and please him and not being there when I thought he should show his support. At one point when he came to request a file, he slipped his hand under the desk and gave me a surreptitious squeeze. He looked most disappointed that I was no longer padded. ~ Over the next few days, as we got on top of the emergency, things began to calm down a little. I was still a little depressed about any lack of attention from ‘daddy’ and couldn’t help still feeling a little hard done by. I mean, I didn’t want to wear a diaper of course but, the fact that at his request I had been doing so I expected a bit more effort from him. I think all my thoughts were completely driven by my desire for sex and I couldn’t see past the fact that my craving wasn’t progressing at all. Now that my sexuality had been teased, and gratefully so, I couldn’t get the thought of more out of my mind, no matter what trials or tribulations were going on around me. Mr Wojciechowski left me alone but we still exchanged the usual pleasantries (he still had his work to do and so did I) but now he seemed to be showing the young mail boy favouritism like previously he had done to me. I watched as the boy, Kevin, went in to collect the mail from his office and didn’t come out for over 15 minutes, when he did he looked flushed, ruffled and rather pleased with himself. Kevin is a good looking lad and I quite liked him but at that moment I could have happily strangled him. A strange sensation filled my body… then everything drained away leaving a feeling of being lost and sorry for myself. In truth, I was jealous. I know it doesn’t make sense but I was and didn’t like my place being taken by someone else, I needed to get back into the boss’s good books. Even though I hadn’t worn a diaper to the office for a few days I didn’t want to lose what I thought we had, so I made a decision; I snapped out of my self-pitying depression and began to be my usual sparkling, friendly self. The following day I arrived in the office wearing my ‘uniform’. I deliberately made sure that Mr Wojciechowski knew I was back padded and covered in baby powder and hoped he understood I wanted another chance. ~ Later that morning, Mr Bronowski, one of the other bosses made an announcement that: ‘Unfortunately, owing to government budget cuts, there would be cutbacks right across the company’s entire workforce’. Of course this didn’t come as a complete shock but nonetheless, there were a lot of very nervous people around, including me. Individuals were called into Mr B’s office and told of their redundancy packages. Some of the older members of staff came out of it quite well but others didn’t. There was a general opinion that ‘last in, first out’ would be the rule and that scared me as I was one of the last people to be employed. Other’s around me were called in and I wriggled uncomfortably, and very uncertainly, in my thick diaper wishing it was Mr Wojciechowski who was dismissing people and not Mr Grumpy (as Mr B was known) who appeared to be dealing with it. The anticipation was terrible, we all sat at our desks anxiously wondering if we’d be called through next and the worry was getting to me more than I expected. In fact, I began to think I was definitely for the sack as, despite me wearing at that moment, I’d rejected Mr Wojciechowski diaper regime and he’d found the mail boy to play with. As I sat there I felt pee filling my diaper. I don’t know why I suddenly started to wet myself but found myself doing so right in front of the entire office. I’m sure no one else was aware, or at least I didn’t think anyone else would know, although my fidgeting around as I got used to the warm wetness that surrounded my cock might have been a bit of a giveaway. It felt strange to have involuntarily pissed myself yet the warm sensation in my diaper was offering me comfort - now how the hell does that happen? I could be fired at any moment, the threat of which I suppose had caused the flow, yet having done so I was now totally calm – it just didn’t make sense. Suddenly, my desk phone rang and it was Mr Wojciechowski calling me into his office… my calmness evaporated. ~ I didn’t have to negotiate Miss Thorpe so knocked, the voice from the other side of the door said ‘Enter’ so I hesitantly let myself in. Mr Wojciechowski was sitting behind his desk, which had a huge pile of papers and folders covering it, there was also other packages that I didn’t recognise. “Good afternoon Charlie.” “Good afternoon… sir,” I wasn’t sure of anything at that moment and didn’t dare call him ‘boss’ or ‘daddy’ or even by his name Mr Wojciechowski. I was wet and anxious and for the first time ever, stood in front of him and felt like a little lost kid. A shiver of dread flowed through me and I didn’t dare look him in the eye. I knew, well I thought I knew, that I was about to be fired and all my hopes and dreams were crushed as I stood there trembling. Because of the rumour I’d had time to think about what I’d do if I lost this position. The job’s market was at an all-time low and with my lack of a degree or any other real form of qualification realised my chances of getting another was probably negligible. He stood up and walked over to where I was standing with my eyes downcast and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry Charlie, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.” ~ So far I was the youngest in the office to get fired and I didn’t know what to say. Although I partly expected it I was distraught when it came to it. I could feel the emotion building, tears welling up and although I didn’t want to cry in front of the boss, I was having a hard time containing them. I swallowed hard and tried to stop myself but I’m afraid the moment was just too overwhelming and I felt my face crease and I started bawling like a kid. “I’m really sorry Charlie, we tried to keep redundancies to a minimum but I’m afraid…” My tears had got to him and he hugged me, which wasn’t something I was expecting. He held me tightly and gently tried to soothe away my obvious distress. His hand patted my back and eventually found its way to my cushioned bottom where it stayed and he gently stroked the soft padding. There was a slight crinkle and once he realised I was wearing his uniform he held me even more tightly. “Ohhh Charlie,” he whispered and kissed my head. Despite my obvious misery his hand kept checking my diaper and eventually asked if I was wet. I nodded and he guided me into his private bathroom off from his office. Once there he unzipped my pants and let them fall to the floor then had me to step out of them. He tossed them aside. I had no idea why I was going along with this but I was so shaky and confused I wasn’t really aware of anything at that moment. He saw the pink plastic pants and eased them down and over the heavy soggy diaper which hung limply to my hips. He spread a towel out on the floor and helped me down onto it. My body was still heaving under the effort of trying to keep my tears under control, at which I was failing; my mind and body were numb. He then disappeared into the other part of his office for a few seconds before returning armed with the box of stuff I’d seen on his desk. ~ First thing he did was attempt to pop a pacifier in my mouth but I turned my head in an effort to refuse it. “Charlie,” I shook my head and firmed up my mouth. “Charlie, suck on this now… it will make things seem an awful lot better.” My eyes were stinging from all the tears and as I opened my mouth to object he simply slipped it in and held it there until I’d started sucking. I didn’t feel able to resist. I may well have been a healthy eighteen year-old but at that moment I had no strength to fight against my predicament. For some reason I just wanted to be hugged, I wanted his tender touch, I wanted nothing more than to be safe and protected. I was powerless, useless and had absolutely no prospects - I didn’t want to but somehow the act of suckling on a nipple did make me less stressed. Once he saw me relax he un-taped and slipped off my soaked diaper, wiped me dry, cleaned me up and powdered me in a shower of talc. For a few moments I just didn’t feel it was happening to me, it was a sort of out-of-body experience, like I was looking down on myself. However, Mr Wojciechowski was gentle, caring and thorough. He seemed to take an age making sure everything was just right before he slipped a thick fabric diaper under my butt, added a couple of pads and easily pinned it into place. This was far more bulky than anything I’d worn so far but I couldn’t get over just how comfortable I felt in his capable hands and being so lovingly attended to … even though I’d just been fired. My discarded suit trousers were in a heap in the corner, whilst the soaked disposable and pink frilly plastic pants were just a couple of feet away but despite that I felt so much better now I was snug and dry so I really didn’t care. As he affectionately ran his hand over the bulk he’d created the cosiness this new diaper offered was pleasantly bizarre - my body relaxed and a state of acceptance filled my body. Once satisfied with his work he then slipped a pair of clear plastic pants over it all, tucking any bits of the diaper behind it, sealing me in. The final touch took me by surprise as he slowly bent in, rubbed the front of the slippery bulky package, whilst kissing my forehead. Almost sorrowfully he said, “What am I going to do with you?” and then sighed. ~ Laid out on the towel in a thick diaper, plastic pants and sucking on a paci I wasn’t able to answer. I had no job, no prospects and yet, weirdly, the problem I now had was that I liked this position. I was in no hurry to move even though I knew someone could come in at any moment. I had nothing to do and nothing to worry about, all I did was lay there wearing a huge diaper completely at ease. Mr Wojciechowski seemed to make some kind of decision. “Charlie, my offer stands.” He looked me straight in the eye. “I would love it if you would let me look after you.” Dressed as I was and sucking on a paci I didn’t really know how to respond. To me it was like I’d already accepted that role, except, I was now no longer employed by the company. “Of course…” he paused to think for a moment, “you would move to a more permanent arrangement at my home… a sort of… live in position.” I lay there not knowing what to think. My parents wouldn’t be too happy about me becoming a baby for anyone and besides, did I want to be a baby for him? Did I want a job, no matter what that job entailed? Mr Wojciechowski was thinking out loud. “We could say that, as the firm tightened its belt and you were made,” he shrugged his shoulders as if in apology, “redundant… an opportunity arose on a new project.” His mind was working overtime now. “In fact, why say anything about being laid off… why not just say that an opportunity came up that was too good to miss to be my personal assistant?” I’d already mentioned to my parents that I was working on a new project with him so this would actually fit in pretty well with what they already knew. If they thought I was climbing some kind of corporate ladder I’m sure they would be all in favour of it. I didn’t need to tell them about what it actually entailed. I wriggled contentedly on the floor and sucked manically on the paci. The thick protection offering nothing but wonderful security as I thought about how only a few moments ago I was without a job and now, all I had to do was wear a diaper and I’d have a new one. I didn’t even think about the consequences because the smile that spread over Mr Wojciechowski face appeared to say it all. A lifeline had been tossed to me and a solution had been found that would keep me on a payroll and keep me close to my sexy boss. “What do you think” he beamed, “is it a position you can live with?” **** tbc

Excellent seasonal fare Thank you

Part 2 I checked the canvas bag apprehensively: It contained a pack of disposables, a pack of super absorbent pads, a canister of baby powder and two pairs of plastic pants; one pink and frilly, the other see-thru and noisy. I shook my head in disbelief… my ‘uniform’? When did he envisage me wearing this I wondered and hoped he didn’t expect me to turn up to the office dressed only in what I’d spread out on my duvet. Mum was calling me down for dinner so I quickly slipped out of my diaper and into a pair of joggers then bundled the lot under my bed and thought I’d sort it out later. ~ Later, when I went to bed, all I could think about was SEX. Yes, I’m afraid my mind raced and replayed over and over again what had happened and, as I relived every action and reaction, my body replied with copious amounts of sticky fluid that flowed from my cock like a broken faucet. My PJs were a mess and I should have worn the diaper that Mr Wojciechowski had put me in; it would have saved all the washing that now needed doing. Eventually I fell asleep drained and messy but thrilled about this new, no-longer-a-virgin, version of me. Weirdly, and perhaps under the circumstances stupidly, I felt I had made some kind of step into adulthood and I was quite pleased with myself. The following morning, after I’d showered, I got dressed and unthinking just slipped into a pair of briefs. I was about to put on my work suit when I suddenly remembered I had an obligation and I thought - what if he checks me in the office? For some reason I didn’t want to disappoint him or put my new ‘relationship’ in jeopardy. I’d spent the night excited whilst thinking things over and had come to the conclusion that this might be a bit of an adventure. I was convinced it was really a sexual adventure and one I was OK with, even if it resulted with him making me wear something I wasn’t sure about. I’d also come to the conclusion, no matter how obliquely, I was now his boyfriend, although the diaper stuff I’d convinced myself was just a passing fancy of his and I could change all that with time. However, I slipped off my briefs, retrieved the pack of disposables and then noticed the note taped to the side of the pack. Daily Instruction Wash and apply plenty of baby powder One disposable, two pads and your choice of plastic pants. Inspection in my office at 10am sharp. Penalties for not complying. I was relieved I’d seen this in time and hadn’t thought to do my own thing. I’d committed, albeit reluctantly, to do as he requested so here was the proof he wanted me to acquiesce to his ‘babying’ demands… I thought I could cope… after all… I had my career to think about… didn’t I? I taped myself in and once again thought how ungainly the feeling was. The see-thru plastic pants were incredibly crinkly and made a lot of noise so I opted for the more malleable, if slightly sissy, frilly pink pair. Although fairly confident, I didn’t dare fail at my first inspection so complied completely with what I’d been instructed to wear. Cramming in the two pads made the entire thing quite unwieldly but once held in pace by the plastic pants I hoped it wouldn’t be too visible. I wore a looser fitting suit that I hoped would hide most of that extra padding but it didn’t stop me feeling the bulk between my legs with each step. It was awkward and I had to slightly change the way I walked but at least the loud crinkle wasn’t there, just a soft rustle as I moved. I hadn’t seen Mr Wojciechowski but still presented myself at his office at 10am and mentioned to his secretary, Miss Thorpe, he’d said the day before he wanted to see me. She replied it would have to wait as he was in a meeting but was there anything she could do to help. I gulped at the notion of her carrying out the inspection and how embarrassing that would be but, there again, I didn’t know what, if anything, she knew about her boss’s little peccadillos, though thought better than to say anything. ~ He didn’t return in the afternoon and I hated the fact that my diaper was bunching up and making me feel quite uncomfortable. One or two of the guys I worked with mentioned the fact that I was wriggling in my seat and smelled of talcum powder - they were of the opinion I must have contracted some deadly, infectious itch from a girlfriend. I knew they were only kidding but I suddenly thought that they assumed I was straight. I smiled knowingly and raised my eyebrows as if to say “Don’t you know it?” and hoped this would deflect any thoughts about my relationship with the boss. For the next couple of days I still wondered up to his door 10am wearing what I’d been instructed to wear but each time was told he was out. I began to get a bit moody around the office but couldn’t tell anyone why. A little resentment quickly slipped into my thinking. I was angry because I was keeping my uncomfortable side of the bargain and he wasn’t. In retrospect, he hadn’t… well… he was the boss and I would have to wait on his availability, I was in no position to rush him… but still? I was also in denial about what had happened. Well, perhaps not denial but the lack of him being around and any continuation of physical contact I found frustrating even though my padded arse, and surprisingly regular stiff cock, were permanent reminders as to what exactly had taken place… it played on my mind so my office work suffered. I got a warning from my manager to buck my ideas up and when Mr Wojciechowski did return to the office I partly dreaded him asking me to go on another site inspection. However, businesswise, I could see there was something drastic going on as the entire place was working hard to meet some sudden targets, so intense was the workload we hardly got time to chat or have breaks. ~ On the third day I arrived at his office at ten and he was there. I’m not sure if it was relief or dread but I was desperate to prove I’d done all he requested. As I entered his room he smiled. “Mmmmmmmm, the smell of baby powder... my favourite.” He whispered sort of conspiratorially. He invited me over to the side of his desk then ran his hand down the front of my trousers; the bulky outline of the diaper seemed more pronounced under his inspection. Next he stroked my bum, felt the padding, smiled and told me what a “good obedient baby” I was. He then enquired if I was using them properly. I wasn’t sure what he meant but he saw my confusion and elaborated. “The next time I want you wet.” I was startled at this new demand. “I want to know you are using them for what they are intended for, I want my little boy to be happy about wetting his diaper and that daddy will take care of everything.” Daddy? This was the first time the word drew my attention but the main point was I couldn’t believe he wanted me to use the damn diaper; after all it wasn’t hygienic… was it? “Are you wearing them all the time?” He smiled hopefully. “Er, travelling to and from work and while I’m here… I…” “Do you wear them to bed?” His voice turned more serious. “Er, no, I, er,” “You need to wear them for everything, all the time. I want to know my boy is well protected.” He said with fatherly concern. The problem I now had was that I wanted something more. I wanted the sex I’d experienced to happen on a daily basis. Just thinking about it was leaving the diaper slick with pre-cum. I wanted him to do things to me that at the moment I could only wonder about. I wanted his firm, older, more seasoned and well-maintained body doing things to me that I’d read about online. I wanted hard, uncontrolled SEX! “But, but…” Before I had chance to complain, explain or say anything his phone rang and I was dismissed. As I was about to close the door behind me he ordered “Wet! Come and see me again at two and you need to be wet.” And that was the end of any discussion. I really didn’t like the idea of wetting myself. What if it was obvious? What if I leaked in to my pants? What if… well there seemed to be quite a few reasons not to but he said I had to and he was my boss… my ‘Daddy’? ~ Later I locked myself in the cubicle and dropped my trousers; the cumbersome diaper looked huge now it was without any covering except the pink plastic panties. In the scant privacy the stall offered I hoped I could force myself to pee and the only positive I could see was it would mean that at least I could check for any ‘problems’. I pulled down the plastic protection and examined the diaper more carefully - my hand slowly sliding around the soft silky material, poking the tapes and leg-holes to make sure everything was tightly held in place. Even though I was desperate to piss I just couldn’t make myself go. My plastic pants were around my ankles so I tried to rub and encourage my cock to respond through the thick white fabric. I could hardly feel it but strangely enough, the padding looked solid enough to take any amount of pee and as I stroked the sexless, bulging front I felt myself relax for the very first time. Unexpectedly I felt a spurt. I was shocked, especially as it was followed by a full flow, which I desperately wanted to stop but couldn’t. A minute later with my diaper full I couldn’t believe the warming influence my pissy protection was giving. It felt snug, it felt comforting but I was worried it might overflow because I’d pissed so much. I swiftly pulled up my plastic pants - the tight cuffs around my waist and legs made me feel leak-proof. I waited a couple more minutes to make sure I couldn’t feel any trickles and all seemed well contained. I returned to my desk wondering if anyone could tell what I’d just done in my pants. Although I felt guilty I was also giggling to myself at doing such a babyish thing and being in a public place wearing a soaked diaper. However, the computer screen was flashing an urgent memo and I had to get back to work. ~ Perhaps strangely, now my diaper was full and it had soaked up so much liquid, it didn’t feel quite as uncomfortable to wear. There was definitely a change in the overall character that was now resting wetly in my pants but one I surprisingly liked. I wasn’t sure if I should but it felt fantastic and I began to wriggle contentedly in my seat. At two I knocked on Mr Wojciechowski door. Miss Thorpe was still out at a late lunch so I didn’t have to deal with anyone else. I stood in front of him and he slipped his hand down the back of my trousers. Access wasn’t easy so he told me to drop them; I did as I was told. The thick drooping diaper had expanded to quite a size and the pink plastic pants had grown with it. With my trousers around my ankles my shirt hardly covered the soggy mass between my legs and I trembled under his inspection. “Good boy.” He said, sliding his hands in appreciation over the frills of my sissy plastic pants. He patted my wet padded bottom as if determining the bulk. “How are you feeling?” He spoke quietly as he set about checking the soaked pads, opening then refastening the tapes. Even though I felt silly standing there with my trousers down I had to nod and say I was OK. “Good, good. Pull up your pants and go back to your desk.” He saw me hesitate. “Stay behind after work and I’ll change you then. In the meantime, I’m sure there is plenty more absorbency left, so don’t worry, pee all you want.” He smiled and I could hear the return of Miss Thorpe talking to someone outside the office. I quickly dragged up my pants and fastened them as efficiently as I could before picking up a folder, thanking him loudly and excusing myself. His secretary gave me a questioning look as I exited but I think I was reasonably clothed so hoped not to arouse any suspicions. ~ When I got back to my desk I noticed that the workload there had increased proportionately to the size of my diaper… it was heavy. I needn’t have worried about anyone else noting my bulging trousers as we were all so inundated with new targets and special reports we hardly had time to grab a cup of coffee. In fact, the two other bosses were supervising the office, which made for a very intense atmosphere, and I don’t think anyone looked up from what they were engaged in. I have a confession: I sat at my desk and peed twice more into my soaked diaper and although there wasn’t gallons of the stuff I quite liked the sensation. The naughtiness of just doing it and no one else being any the wiser gave me a strange feeling of, superiority. No that’s the wrong word, satisfaction, yes that’s better, the satisfaction of not having to rush to the toilet. I was no longer a slave to my expanding bladder. Eventually it was home time and I grabbed a folder and reported to Miss Thorpe who was putting on her coat. “Just leave it on my desk,” she said nodding towards her pristine, clear and tidy work area. She checked her watch, “Mr Wojciechowski will now not be back until tomorrow.” I felt stupid, uncomfortable and annoyed. I gave no thought to the fact that the business was at ‘high alert’ and obviously something major was happening. I just thought about my soggy diaper and that I’d now have to wear it on the bus home. It was bad enough wearing a clean one but now, well, I was frustrated and angry with developments. The satisfaction I had about it only minutes earlier was now gone and I mumbled under my breath my dissatisfaction. Miss Thorpe held the door open for me as I collected my coat then she locked up as we left. I ambled off to the bus stop and she disappeared towards the car park. It had been promising it all day and eventually the heavens opened up and a huge deluge seemed to be mocking my wet and soggy diaper as I waited in the bus queue. In retrospect I know I should have chuckled at the stupidity of my situation and laughed off my soaked groin but at the time I was livid with the entire thing. Why should I wear a diaper? Why should I do what he wanted? Was he just out to make a fool of me? Was the sex that good to go through all this? Did I really want to be someone’s little baby? As I trudged/waddled the last few hundred yards to my house, soaked and indignant, I thought I’d had enough and without doubt… that would be the last time I wore a diaper for anyone. *** tbc

How I became an Executive Toy Part 1 Hi, I’m Charlie - six months ago I left school and got a job as an office junior in a large building firm. It’s not a very demanding job but they told me that the prospects were good if I had any aptitude. The office is relaxed but everyone dresses rather smartly, no jeans or t-shirts, and most of the guys wear a suit so I do too. I’m always clean, neat and tidy (mum sees to that) and I hope to do well in this my first ever job. I’m 18, slim, 5’6”, OK looking, always polite (again mum’s doing) and very easy to get along with and often don’t need things explaining twice before I can do what is asked of me. Academically I was lazy, and although did OK in my exams, the thought of university life and more schooling just wasn’t me. I wanted to get work and perhaps have three or four years on my peers before they eventually found themselves on the jobs market. ~ They appear to like me in the office and I’ve become fairly popular with my work colleagues. Almost immediately one of the company directors, Mr Wojciechowski, was very friendly and encouraging towards my ambitions - taking me out on the occasional site inspection with him; as he thought that would give me more of an overall view of what the business was about. He’s witty and you can share a joke with him, when he’s around the entire office a nicer place to work. Not like the other two bosses who are also Polish but in all honesty, scare the shit out of me… very officious and demanding. When we went out to the sites together, and it was at least once a week that I accompanied him on a trip, it all seemed so exciting. At my age, and in my first job, I loved the attention and the encouragement he gave, making me feel special and that I could really go places with the firm. He said he liked the way I said “Yes Boss” when he first asked me to do something for him – I think it was to retrieve a file on the computer system. Embarrassingly, I couldn’t remember his name so I meant to say “Yes Sir.” but it came out as “Yes Boss”, apparently I blushed a bright red at my faux pas. It made him smile. ~ One evening, about 2 months ago, when we were returning to base, he said he had to call home first as he’d forgotten some papers. His house on the outskirts of town is terrific; in its own grounds, very expensive, well decorated and I was pretty impressed. He asked if I wanted anything to drink and, looking at the selection of booze set out on a cabinet, felt like he was treating me as an adult and not as one of the office juniors. He disappeared into another room, which I assumed was to get the papers he needed and after a couple of minutes called for me to go through. I went to help and was surprised to see him standing surrounded by loads of baby paraphernalia - it was like a really well equipped and maintained nursery. Colourful walls with cartoon characters, a crib, toys and piles of clothes and diapers, it appeared to have everything but I had no idea why. The boss was smiling at this revelation and asked me what I thought. I didn’t know what to think. I was a bit shocked but, as I had no idea how to react I sort of mumbled some sort of approval though I have no idea why. His eyes lit up with what seemed genuine happiness. “Glad you like it,” he shrugged his shoulders a little relieved, “it’s one of my… things, you know, to help me relax when I get a bit… stressed.” I’m sure many high-powered businessmen get stressed with their jobs and I suppose they all need an outlet, although I always assumed it was booze or recreational sex and drugs, but hey, what do I know? What I wasn’t sure about was why he was confiding this ‘secret’ part of his life to me. “Er.… it’s all very… er… nice and all but,” I wasn’t sure if I dare ask, “why are you showing it to me?” “Well my dear Charlie, you are one of the few good-looking youngsters in our firm and, if you haven’t noticed, I like you a lot.” ~ I was stunned yet pleased at the same time and took in the fact that even though he was in his late 40s he had a very young out-look. The detour to his place was just an excuse to get me alone but when he pulled me against his strong body and told me how good-looking he thought I was, in truth, I was anxious… although mainly flattered by his attention. I’m 18 and have known since before I was a teenager I’m gay but had never acted on my feelings. However, just about any guy looking at me, or me looking at them, gives me an instant hard-on so, with his masculine firm hands touching me, that’s just what happened. He’s not the greatest looking guy, although for his age I suppose he’s OK, but he is very manly and quite an imposing figure… and more importantly, he’s my boss. Now I know my reaction should have been to throw a hissy-fit or storm out but I was dumb-struck as he slipped his hand into my waistband. He flicked the button loose on my trousers, unaided the zip peeled away and they fell to the floor. Although I was shocked, the feelings he was generating in my groin were incredible and I loved it so, when he dragged everything off, including my shoes and socks, I was more excited by the fabulous sensations than alarmed. “God, you are such a pretty… boy.” He breathed with such passion it sent a shiver down my spine. I was taken aback by this. In fact, I was pretty sure I was about to be raped and I didn’t know what to do. The problem was my cock was rampant, and although I was extremely uneasy, I was shaking in thrilled anticipation. This was it, this was the moment, this was when I was no longer going to be a virgin. I was scared. ~ “Do you know just how fucking cute you are?” He whispered in my ear. I wasn’t sure if he expected an answer but in truth I just lay there like a petrified rabbit caught in headlights. He licked my earlobe and then his warm tongue gently intruded deeper. I didn’t know my ear was so damn sensitive and I giggled and squirmed under his gentle touch. “Oh my God… look at you… you are a picture. Sweet, innocent…” He raised his eyebrows perhaps wondering just how innocent I was, “fuck me I want you as my little baby, my little chicken, my little… toy.” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at but he looked me deep in the eye and asked if I’d like to be his ‘Executive Toy’. My brain could come up with no thought of what that might entail so I nervously asked him what that meant. He replied that I just had to be around when he needed some executive relief. “You mean… er… to…” I was naked and looking into the eyes of a man who thinks I’m adorable but I needed to make sure I knew exactly what it was he wanted from me, “to be your… er… boyfriend?” He smiled a strange smile that I hadn’t seen before and slightly shook his head. “Mmmm, maybe but,” he rubbed my naked belly, “I need someone to join me in the nursery and you would be ideal.” ~ I think he could see the total lack of understanding in my eyes, although the stroking of my tummy was having some effect, he expanded on what he thought. “You look so sweet and, with a slight change of hairstyle and, well, other little changes, I think you would be a wonderful playmate.” He changed from rubbing my belly to softly manipulating my rock hard dick. “I get my relaxation from looking after… a baby. Changing him, playing with him, teaching him stuff, reading stories… generally doing… what a daddy should do.” My mind wasn’t really listening because I was swallowed up by the sensations flowing from my balls along my throbbing shaft. “You would be my surrogate baby and I’d look after you,” he looked down at me and I closed my eyes as my orgasm approached; his fingers working the nerves in my bell-end so I could no longer control myself. “You would become my pretty infant son at weekends and, well, whenever I need you to be a sweet, defenceless, innocent baby.” He stopped his long slow massage. “What do you think? Is it something you might like to… experience?” ~ At that moment I was on the verge of coming and desperately needed him to continue. In my longing I would have agreed anything if only he’d finish me off. He was waiting for a response and, with my dick in his hand I knew there was only one answer I could have given. My heart was pounding with desire. I knew I was agreeing to something but wasn’t that aware of what it was. However, a shiver of craving and a desperate need to come led my thoughts. “Yes.” I breathed. “Anything.” My desire for that orgasm had consumed every other sensible feeling in my body. I just needed to come and with this man holding my cock I was his puppet as he softly stroked it. He smiled and bent down and kissed the tip of my leaking penis. “You’re such a good boy.” His tongue lapped across my piss slit and I could feel my balls bubbling. I was shaking with pure unadulterated lust. This was my first sexual experience with another person, with another man, and I was caught up in the sheer sexy moment. Every nerve in my body was tingling in anticipation and I desperately wanted to drag this hulk of a man on top of me and explode. I wriggled and panted breathlessly as he took a firm hold of my cock. His hot moist mouth covered it and in a couple of smooth silky motions up and down its shaft I did just that. My naked body arched, a mixture of intense sensations gripped every fibre as I shot stream after stream down his throat, his tongue tickling and enticing the nerves at its end, engraving the moment in my mind forever. ~ After I came, there was no pretending; I was in shock, feeling guilty, possibly ashamed and wondering what had just happened and why? What had I done? What signals had I sent out and… my mind was trying to deal with it all. He was smiling and full of praise for me, telling me what a sweet, clever baby I was. Once he’d finished with the praise I think he noticed my shocked and hurt look but he just told me I could go far in the company… if I kept my mouth shut… and my mind open. I also realised that I was now the guardian of a secret but one I had no power to use. I was an office junior and he was the boss, who on Earth would believe me if I told anyone what had happened? ~ My exposed young body was wreathed in sweat and my post-orgasm thoughts were now of embarrassment and shame. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do next so I lay there and let him make the decisions. Despite being unable to look him in the eye I could tell he was a very happy man. “Well done little fella.” He ruffled my hair. “I think you’ll be an ideal playmate but,” he looked at his watch, “it’s time to get you back.” I tried to raise myself up but he just told me to lie still and he’d see to everything. He went around the room collecting various containers and bits and bobs of other things before returning to my visibly shaking naked body. First he used a very soft towel to wipe away all the sweat, followed by some wet wipes that were cool and smelled of menthol. The icy wipe was quite effective as he paid particular attention to my cock and I began to get hard again. He smiled but just shook his head as if to say that the fun was over for the day. He spread lotion around and sprinkled powder before slipping a soft, plastic disposable under my bottom. I wanted to complain. I wasn’t a baby and I wasn’t up for this type of embarrassment but before these thoughts had formed in my head and able to speak, he already had me secured. He held up a couple of pairs of plastic pants wondering which would suit me best. I was still too stunned to pass a comment as he slipped a thick crinkly white pair up and over the bulky diaper. He helped me to my feet. “There,” he said with some pride, “the beginning of… of a new life for us both.” ~ He stood admiring his work for a few seconds. “That’s how I always want to see you dressed.” He picked up my clothes and gave me my shirt and trousers to put back on - my underwear was nowhere to be seen. The loud crinkle from the plastic pants I found unnerving as I pulled my trousers over the thick padding. I could hardly get the zip or button to fasten as I struggled to get them to fit. In the end I had to give up and leave them open as I pulled on my shirt and jacket, socks and shoes. He drove me home and apart from saying that I was to wear a diaper to work in future nothing much else was said. It felt really strange having such a thing between my legs and I was wriggling around in his car seat trying to get comfortable. He was all smiles when he said that I’d get used to it but my mind was now wondering just what I’d got myself into. Mr Wojciechowski seemed very happy and in truth, despite the diaper, I’d enjoyed what we’d done. It was intense and because my first time had been with someone more experienced, it was brilliant. I was still shaking, that’s how good it was. However, now we’d shared such an event I was sure, once he got to know me better; I could change his mind about the disposable and all that baby stuff. I was beginning to feel quite smug that I had got a boss as a ‘boyfriend’ and that we’d be having an ‘affair’ in the office and nobody would be any the wiser. I began to smile to myself about how fantastic this might be for me… and my career. ~ As I got out of the car he passed me a small canvas bag and said it was my uniform and he expected me to wear it in the office the following day. I had no idea what it was but smiled my thanks and said I’d see him in the morning. He smiled back and said he couldn’t wait. My body trembled in expectation. So, as I waddled into the house, mum was waiting wanting to know why I was late. I honestly told her that I was working on an exciting new project with one of the bosses and that I was sure it would be terrific for my future prospects with the firm. Mum was so pleased she hugged me tightly. I suddenly remembered I had thick padding underneath and quickly pulled away and said I needed to change. She was so full of pride she beamed her love across the kitchen. “You’ve got everything you need to go far Charlie, the looks, the sense and that natural friendly ability… I’m sure you’ll be a huge success sweetheart.” “Thanks mum.” I hope you’re right. I got to my bedroom and shucked off my suit. The plastic pants crinkled louder and I just hoped mum hadn’t noticed the sound as she hugged me, if she did she hadn’t said. I looked in the mirror and the bulge seemed so stupid, I shrugged and thought - if this is what it takes to get on in the world… well… I was sure others had had to do worse. Besides, I was convinced that Mr Wojciechowski, despite his weird little ‘stress reliever’, would soon be only interested in having wild and frequent sex with his ‘sweet little Executive Toy’ and would forget all about his ‘nursery element.’ * tbc

Thanks for such wonderful comments

Short story moved to correct place - sorry.

Part 7 I woke up with my face in a moist pool. At first I wondered what I’d been doing but as I slowly came round realised that my pillow was slick with drool. Still half asleep I tentatively ran my fingers over my nappy; first my bum, that seemed dry and then I sneaked my fingers between my mattress and crotch expecting the worst but finding that dry as well. This was the first time I’d woken up in such a state for quite some time and apart from the clammy pillow, was feeling extraordinarily ecstatic that all was well. Once I’d opened my eyes I was greeted by the bright glassy black stare of Pandy whose look of surprised calm made me chuckle. I reached out and dragged him into a warm embrace and his soft fur on my naked skin sent a comfy and relaxed message to my brain. I was dry, I was content and I didn’t want to spoil the day but at the back of my mind I knew there was something that had to be done. However, right then and there I presumed it had something to do with lying in bed and playing to my favourite stuffed animal. I wriggled in the luxury of my dry nappy; it was tight and I felt secure. I heard mum shouting for me to get up but I was so snug I didn’t want to move I wanted to spend the day as I was… just so comfortable. Mum shouted that my breakfast was getting cold. Now, as the smell of bacon and eggs invaded my senses the desire to stay put was surmounted by the need for food. I slipped a t-shirt on, which only just reached below my hips, and wondered down to the kitchen wearing just that and my nappy. For some reason it didn’t even occur to me to hide my protection and the fact that it was so noticeable also didn’t register in my head. Both my brothers laughed and were about to say something but I suppose they remembered dad’s threats so kept quiet. It must have been murder for them not to have a go. However, Steve did pat my bum and under his breath say, “Has diddums wet himself again?” Mum raised her eyebrows when she noticed me but carried on serving breakfast, whilst Maria, sat in her highchair smiled and banged her spoon on her dish. I wanted to do that as well. Steve and Gary were loudly discussing some programme that I’d missed the night before, mum was feeding small amounts of some paste-like food to Maria, who wasn’t keen on it at all and with difficulty I cut up my breakfast into small, bite-sized pieces. **** As all this went on around me my head was full of cartoons and nursery rhymes. I wasn’t interested in my brother’s grown-up talk, I wanted to get to the TV and see the programmes me and my sister had viewed the day before… I didn’t want to miss anything. I picked up my plate and wondered into the living room, turned on the TV and sat watching the cartoons while eating my breakfast with my fingers. Later, my brothers came in and switched it over to a sports programme so I screamed and stamped but I imagine, because I was only wearing a nappy, I didn’t look that threatening and they took no notice of me. I ran crying to mum but she didn’t know what to do, in fact, she wasn’t sure what I’d become. There I was her eldest son wearing only a nappy and crying that his younger brothers had flicked the TV to another channel… something was seriously wrong. I whined to mum that my brothers were naughty (naughty?) I was scared of them and I wanted to watch cartoons. Mum really did have enough on her plate with looking after Maria so she didn’t need me as well but there I was hugging her and trying desperately to hold back the tears. Ever since Kate had visited I’d retreated either to my room or to being the age of a child. Mum realised that wandering around in just a nappy was not the actions of an eighteen year-old, while bursting into tears when I didn’t get my own way was definitely not the behaviour of someone who was soon going off to University. She called Kate. Kate explained what she thought might have happened with the hypnotist but, as she wasn’t around when I went back to confront him about pissing my pants, she didn’t know exactly. Mum wanted to know who the hypnotist was and Kate had already found him online but he was away touring in Australia. Kate said that she’d been reading up on the subject and apparently, hypnotists can’t make people do anything they don’t want to do and, if I had been ‘put under’ I should have recovered from the suggestions by now. Mum wondered if another hypnotist might be able to help and Kate said she’d try and find one. Meanwhile, mum told her that since her visit the night before I was getting worse. She explained to her that I was now just sulking around the house, carrying a stuffed toy and wearing only a nappy. Kate was worried but, ever practical, advised mum to make sure I had some further protection and both thought I needed rubber pants to keep the furniture and bedding safe from any ‘accidents’ I might have. As I was playing with some of Maria’s toys in my room mum came in, pulled out the thickest pair of rubber pants I had and made me put them on. I screamed my resistance but mum was firm and, threatened with a spanking if I didn’t cooperate, soon had me well protected. She couldn’t fit any of my jeans or shorts over all the padding so left me to play dressed like that. I didn’t mind I was still comfy and dry but that wasn’t going to last for ever. **** Dad came home at lunchtime armed with gifts. The ‘problem’ he’d been having at work for the past few months had now passed and he’d been able to secure a contract that would make the company financially solvent for the next five years. He was in a terrific mood and seemed keen to get back to being ‘good old dad’, the man with a smile and no worries. He’d brought flowers for mum, computer games for Gary and Steve, squeaky toys for Maria and a huge bag of disposables for me. However, although he’d thought my gift might be useful he hadn’t known just how bad things had become. My greeting him with a sloppy kiss and huge hug but wearing only a thick nappy and rubber pants was not what he expected. The fact that I was now happy playing with Maria and gurgling along with her as we tried to build stuff with colourful bricks shocked him until mum brought him up to date with Kate’s theory. My behaviour and regression at least now made some sense to him although he couldn’t understand how things had progressed this far or how quickly I’d slipped completely into being a small child again. I had no idea the worry that was going on around me as I was crawling around the floor with Maria. Mum noticed a smell and checked her baby first; alas it wasn’t her so she reluctantly checked my nappy. I was a mess. Mum could have done without having to change me but I was no longer able to fend for myself so she would have to. However, dad was still holding the bag of disposables and said he’d deal with me. We went upstairs to the bathroom where dad made me stand and wait until he’d raided Maria’s supplies and gathered all the things he thought he’d need. I think dad was nervous, certainly more so than me as I wasn’t bothered at all as I hadn’t even noticed I’d messed myself. He tentatively pulled down my rubber pants and had me step out of them… then he slowly unpinned my nappy. It was hung low and obviously loaded but I just held onto Pandy while dad got on with what he had to do. Once that had dropped to the floor dad took me to the toilet and made me sit down and told me to see if I could finish the job. He was all smiles and encouragement but I had no idea what he wanted me to do. Eventually he guided me to the shower and cleaned me up. Once that was done he dried me off and had laid out one of the new disposables. He got me to sit in the middle of it but then realised he needed to make sure I didn’t get a rash so before he replaced my nappy he grabbed a bottle of lotion and spread it around. I giggled as he spread the creamy stuff all over my privates and bottom. Dad was thorough as he then showered me with baby powder and rubbed that in. Once he was happy it was time for him to fit my new clean nappy which he did as he spoke to me like he must have done when I was a baby. He was all gentleness and not a bit like he’d been behaving the previous few months. I’m sure he was confused by my sudden decline but at least he now knew there was some kind of reason and he may well have felt bad about the way he’d treated me when it was all starting. The problem was, once I was completely dry and re-nappied I found I couldn’t walk at all. I could crawl but not speak it was like I’d gone back further into my childhood but now I was about the same age as Maria. **** When Kate came around she couldn’t believe what she saw, wrapped in a huge nappy and plastic pants I was sat on the floor playing with Maria’s building bricks and having difficulty getting them to stay up. I stretched my arms out in greeting but in truth it could have been anyone and after she hugged me I quickly returned to play. They were all very concerned and they discussed what had happened. Kate explained the night out and just exactly what had happened with the hypnotist then dad asked her precisely what she’d done the night before. At first she was a bit evasive before she realised that he wasn’t asking about her taking my used nappy and plastic pants. She said that she had talked to me about what had happened but then saw that I was wet and, as she was used to doing it, just set about…er… changing me. Ever the keen mind dad wondered if the changing might be of some significance; some action rather than word that had been planted in my mind. He said that I appeared to regress remarkably quickly when he’d just changed me and wondered if there was even further to go. Kate said she’d found a hypnotherapist in town and had already called for a consultation but the earliest appointment she could get was the next afternoon. Meanwhile, as I played on the floor with Maria, they all talked about my condition and wondered what could be done. I had no such worries. I was happy in my abundant protection whilst playing with my sister and enjoying our games. Gary came in and made a comment about me in my nappy and dad really laid into him and told him that any further comment and it would be him wearing the protection alongside me. He tried to say to dad that he was only ‘joking’ but that wasn’t cutting it with him. “Be warned,” Dad was at his firmest, “either you or your brother say anything, comment, or act out in any way… you’ll both be wearing nappies for the rest of the week.” Gary slunk away muttering under his breath he’d like to see dad try… it just wouldn’t happen… it… He disappeared up to his room but mum had never seen dad so fired up as they continued to discuss my future. **** Dad put in a call to the hypnotist’s manager and threatened to prosecute if he didn’t hear back from the man within the next two hours. Less than an hour later the hypnotist called from Australia where he was just about to go onstage. He was apparently shocked, though dad detected a bit of pride in the man’s voice, but I think dad’s insistence that the newspapers and the law might not be as generous in their opinion brought him back down to earth. The hypnotist explained that when I’d gone backstage I was being such a baby about wetting myself, which he claimed he didn’t suggest should happen, but found I was still suggestable so planted the idea that I might prefer to be a baby. However, he went on to say, that he couldn’t make me do anything that I didn’t want to do, that just wasn’t the way hypnotism worked. Dad pressed him for more details and, whether he had planned it or not, asked how he could reverse what had happened. He suggested that I be put on the phone. Dad held it out for me but I had no idea what to do with it. Mum put it to my ear so I could hear what the hypnotist had to say but, I was more interested in the tower that Maria and I had built so wasn’t concentrating on what he had to say. Dad was getting frustrated with me and angrier with the hypnotist but asked him, as I wasn’t being very helpful, if another hypnotist could reverse what had happened. The man in Australia said he didn’t know though it was worth a try but, and he assured dad on this point, that anything he might have suggested or got me to do on stage should have worn off by now and that perhaps I wanted to regress. Dad was furious at this idea and, after he said he’d be hearing from his solicitor, slammed the phone down. The following afternoon I was sitting in the hypnotherapist/psychologist office wearing a thick nappy plastic pants and a pair of shorts that hardly covered anything. I was sucking my thumb and wondering where I was when Doctor Augustine Mercier looked a tiny bit shocked as I and dad and mum were ushered into her office. After they had explained as much as they knew she tried to get in a conversation with me but found that although I might have been looking at her, I really was not there at all. I wriggled off the seat and sat on the floor crawling around trying to examine all that I could. The doctor tried various attempts at communication but in the end had to give up as I was totally unresponsive to her questions. As mum and dad continued talking I curled up on the floor and dozed, it was at this point that the doctor tried to get me to respond and with some success. **** Apparently, my voice was like that of a very small child but at least the doctor could speak and led me deeper into my subconscious. What she found was both fascinating and scary. It wasn’t all the hypnotists fault. Evidently I did want to regress as I loved Maria and envied her position in the family and wanted to have the same love and affection that she was receiving. I was dreading going to university and living with my clever girlfriend… apparently I was even envious of her no-nonsense approach to life and her ability to act rather than think about stuff like I always did. Now, this is not what I remember it’s what I’ve pieced together from what mum, dad and Kate told me happened at, and since, that time. According to mum, once I started speaking the revelations of my insecurities and inabilities to cope with just about anything had made me almost incapable of functioning in the real world and, according to the doctor, I had sought refuge where I thought I’d be safest. It was her opinion that the hypnotist 'just opened the door to my secret desires'. She came up with a lot of other psycho-babble that made sense to dad but nothing that made or makes any sense to me at all as I cannot remember ever having those feelings. I would say she must have been a charlatan except, here I am; not crawling around the floor, not sucking my thumb and not wetting myself but fully functioning and about to start university with Kate. However, there’s been a little shift in our relationship because now Kate insists that when we live together we will both, when the urge takes us, wear nappies. She said that when I was padded she found my vulnerability such a turn on, whilst the feel of a thick nappy and plastic pants was more than a passing aphrodisiac. The time she took my wet nappy and wore it herself had been on a whim, but, as she continued to wear it for the rest of the day, she also found it quite arousing. When she’d seen me first in my nappy and plastic pants she’d been shocked but soon found the entire look quite stimulating. The shiny, slippery vinyl and the bulging nappy underneath presenting a spectacle that quickly grabbed her imagination… and she wanted to ‘experience’ it more. The sex in her bedroom had also surprised her. She hadn’t known just how sexualised all that padding had become in her mind or just how effective it was to tip her over the edge. She had no thought other than to get off and hadn’t realised how little involvement I’d had in the process. But that act had certainly planted a seed in her mind and nappies, plastic pants and the entire babifying thing had more than grabbed her interest. In some ways, she said, she loved me being a dependent little boy and adored taking care of my needs but in return, she had needs of her own and, if I agreed, we could both get what we wanted. She's one clever and intuitive person as well as practical because she said she could get plenty of supplies from the care home when needed. Kate is a force to be reckoned with and me… well… it's a dream situation and anyway... how could a ‘lickle baby boy’ refuse? ***The End*** =================

Part 6 When the phone had rung it was mum who answered and, as I was still in bed, called me down to speak to Kate. I hadn’t had time to change out of my sodden nappy, and in truth I was still admiring the bulk of the thing. It was the disposable from the day before and I was pretty impressed by the amount of fluid it could soak up and yet I didn’t feel wet. Of course it had inflated to a huge size so, with the bulk and the weight, it took me a couple of minutes to waddle down the stairs. Mum was seeing to Maria in the kitchen so didn’t seen the condition I was in and it struck me as funny, there I was, standing in the hallway, chatting to my super-sexy girlfriend, wearing this enormously bloated nappy. I was still on a high thinking about my brothers wearing nappies so it took me a while to appreciate what Kate was saying. She asked me if I remembered a group of us going out a few days before our exams started. I told her she must be mistaken as I didn’t remember going out at all before the exams as we were all cramming like mad. She tried to jog my memory saying that her and me, Victoria and Adam had thought our heads would explode if we didn’t take a break so we’d gone into the city, with the idea of getting pissed up, but had ended up going to a show. This all seemed stupid to me as I didn’t remember any of it and began to convince myself that she must have gone with someone else. Then I began to wonder if she’d got me mixed up with another boy and that she must be cheating on me. As she spoke I was getting angrier and angrier, believing she was just a stupid cheating bitch but then she got angry at my attitude and said if I didn’t believe her to call Adam and ask him. I was losing my temper and for some reason, wetting myself at the same time. I could even feel tears coming to my eyes as I thought how betrayed and how unfair it was… I’d never cheat on her. In the end she’d had enough of my childish whining and told me to call Adam or Victoria to see she was telling the truth. I put the phone down and for the first time in a long time I experienced the soft trickle of my pee dribble down the inside of my leg. I suppose the disposable could only hold so much liquid. Oddly enough this really upset me and, grabbing a towel that was drying on the radiator, I mopped it up before shuffling back upstairs, crying my eyes out, feeling betrayed… and to change. **** The size of the nappy that had held me enthralled for so long now got cast aside as I entered the shower. I was angry and hurt but thought I’d better sort it out before I started accusing Kate any more as she’d seemed appalled that I could have done so, especially as she was trying to help. The hot soothing jets had done their job and I felt far more relaxed once I was out of the shower and drying myself down. Kate had seemed so adamant about this night out that I wondered why I couldn’t remember and wondered if I’d gotten too drunk, although drinking wasn’t something I really did. I’d been drunk a couple of times when I was younger and had hated the experience, so if I did have a drink, it was something I made sure was in moderation as I didn’t want to feel that way again. Once dry I went to my wardrobe and took out another disposable and, without thinking put it on. I pulled a pair of bright blue rubber pants over them, then my shorts over that, before I realised what I’d done. Normally I would be wearing boxer shorts, so why I had quite unconsciously, and what appeared to be willingly, babied myself I don’t know. When it struck me what I’d done I was annoyed and about to change but, I stroked the front of my cushioned shorts, felt the comfort of the padding and those angry feelings were quickly replaced with those of happiness and contentment. There was no doubt about it a nappy had a huge soothing effect on my mood and even though it was an inconvenience, because of the restricted choice of clothes I now had, it was one that I somehow felt was acceptable. I went downstairs and called Adam but I had to leave a message. It was the same for Victoria and then I remembered, every one of my friends had a job or was away so they weren’t as easily available as I was. Mum came out with Maria and asked me to keep an eye on her whilst she went and started with some baking. I took Maria but before mum went back to the kitchen asked her if she remembered me going out on the town before the exams. **** “Yes,” she smiled, “you were convinced that if you didn’t get a break you’d die… or something…” I looked blankly at her. “Mind you, I’m not sure whether you’d had a good night or not because you came home and went straight to bed,” she grinned at the memory, “but not before we’d all noticed that you’d peed your pants.” “I’d done what?” I asked sceptically. “You’d wet yourself. You had this big pee stain down the front of your pants, which muggings here had to wash I might add.” “I don’t remember any of that.” So Kate had been telling the truth and I’d all but accused her of cheating on me, in fact, I might well have accused her of that. Ohh this was bad… this was very bad if I couldn’t even remember something like that… “You never mentioned the night out…” mum was continuing with her side of the story, “we just thought you were too embarrassed because of how ‘drunk’ you’d been.” She emphasised the word but I knew she was referring to my wet pants. Maria was goo-gooing in my ear so I went to sit down in front of the TV and try to weigh up this new evidence. I put on Cbeebies (the baby channel) and immediately colourful character lit up the screen and, in their little sing-song voices, began telling a tale. Maria was sitting on my knee and appeared entranced by what was on screen and strangely enough, my thoughts of this forgotten night out were suddenly superseded by my interest in this bunch of vivid creatures. Maria’s soft padded bottom was snuggly placed in my equally padded lap as we watched and ‘discussed’ each multi-coloured oddity. She looked and smiled and giggled the way only a baby a few months old can do… but I agreed with every word. **** Time just flew by and mum came back to see her youngest and eldest asleep in front of the TV. Maria flopped on my chest and I was snuggled into the corner of the sofa, mum said we made a lovely picture. She took Maria and slid her finger under her nappy to check and said she was OK and in my semi-awake state wondered if she was going to check me next. However, she didn’t and I quickly got my wits back and went to phone Kate to apologise for doubting her account of the proceedings. When I got through she said she couldn’t chat there and then as there was still a crisis going on at the home but she’d come around in the evening and we could talk then. I was intrigued as to why I couldn’t remember anything about it but, as it meant nothing to me at that moment there seemed little reason to dwell on it. The weather outside wasn’t very nice so I retrieved Maria from her playpen, got out some of her toys and I began to teach her what shapes fitted where and showed various word and pictures, which I repeated to her. She looked perplexed at me but I wanted my baby sister to be cleverer than any other baby her age and bless her heart, she humoured me and didn’t once cry out of boredom. When she fell asleep once again I was so enthralled in one of her story books I carried on reading for my own enjoyment. Simple stories seemed about my level and, together with the pretty pictures and colourful creatures kept me busy until I’d finished all her books. I was even reading them out aloud and running my finger along each word as if trying to make sure I understood it correctly. This was not the behaviour of a University student, nor was the fact that unknown to me I had wet my disposable. The only reason I knew I had was that the bulge in my shorts was now so much bigger where the pee had been thoroughly soaked up. Another thing that was blatantly apparent was that I liked the feel of a full and thick nappy hanging between my legs although I wasn’t sure why this didn’t bother me. **** Back in my room I marvelled at how glossy my blue rubber pants now looked as my nappy swelled underneath and stretched the material. These new items that we’d had sent from the pharmaceutical company really did have depths to their design; not only comfort but a sexy texture and alluring look. I assumed that whoever conceived these items wanted people to want to wear them and as well as feel good – look good. I lay out on my bed thinking about how great it would be to be a kid again and be able to wear such stuff all the time and I must have drifted off. Once again when I woke up Kate was standing at the side of my bed. In the back of my mind I’d heard a cough but it was her hand stroking my smooth bulge that eventually brought me round. “Hello sleepyhead.” She continued to caress my sleek but filled pants. “You looked so innocent there I nearly didn’t wake you.” I tried to raise myself up onto my elbows but she just sat down by my side and stroked the bulging fabric even more. I saw that look appear on her face again. That look that said she was horny and needed satisfying but I just hoped that she would straddle me there and then and get herself off when the house was full of people. I was desperate to get her mind on other things. “Sorry about earlier,” she seemed distracted. “What?” Her eyes were glued to my blue shiny bulge. “Not remembering our night out. Mum reminded me but…” I hoped I could get her attention back, “I don’t remember anything about it. Did I get terribly drunk?” She lay out on the bed by my side; she fully clothed and me in a swollen nappy and shiny rubber pants. She kicked off her shoes to get comfortable. “No, you didn’t get drunk, none of us did but we went to see a show at the old Pizzazz… you know… the old Comedy Club?” She looked me in the eye to see if there was even a flicker of comprehension. “There was a hypnotist on and we volunteered… you, me, Adam and Victoria…” Again nothing kicked in so I still had no idea what she was talking about. “You lot fell under his spell immediately but I was only playing along… in the end he noticed this and got me to sit down so he just used you three.” All the while she was telling me her stroking was persistent and increasing in vigour. I tried to shuffle away but she just looked at me as if to say ‘don’t you dare move’ so I stayed put and let her continue her story and ministrations. “You were hilarious but at one point he told you to act out that you’d just scored a goal for England, which you did. You seemed very proud and the audience were cheering you on.” Oh. I suddenly realised where she might be going with this and I wanted to say something but she carried on. “Then, at your moment of success he brought in an embarrassing incident… you peed your pants.” The full horror struck me but she wasn’t finished. “He intimated that you were a baby and had messed your nappy. The audience was in hysterics and they were shouting out more things for him to suggest. They were a very cruel crowd but he went along with them getting you to do more and more outrageous stuff… but always as a baby. You and Adam were playing kids games and he even got you two humping one and other” I was angry but still couldn’t remember any of this happening so I wondered why. “I’m not sure but after the show, we were going to have a curry in town and you noticed that you had in fact wet yourself. This really annoyed you so you went back to the club to complain to him. We waited in the car for about half an hour but you didn’t return, so we checked the club but both you and the hypnotist had left.” She started nuzzling my naked chest. “So we don’t know what happened after.” “Mum said I arrived home with a huge piss stain down the front of my trousers…” “You were only a little damp when you left us…” “I can’t remember anything. Perhaps that was something else he made me do… forget what had happened.” “I’m not sure they can do that. Don’t they have some kind of code or something … like doctors and lawyers.” “Perhaps he didn’t like me telling him off… if that’s what I intended on doing. Perhaps he planted something else in my head and forgetting the incident was just part of it.” My head was all abuzz now and I was desperate to get to the bottom of it. However, as Kate slowly rubbed, kissed and stroked me I soon forgot what I was angry about and just became her plaything. She wanted to change me again and the moment she suggested it I unknowingly regressed to being a little boy. Even though it was a sudden change of direction from what we were talking about her new action seemed normal and justified. Typically she appeared well organised, which was what I’d come to expect, and the story of the hypnotist held no more fascination for me as she whipped off my rubber pants and soggy nappy. She placed my thumb in my mouth and told me to suck as she set about drying, cleaning, powdering and fitting a clean fabric nappy. She then did something totally unexpected. She shimmied out of her knickers and put on my wet disposable and thick blue rubber pants. She had to tighten the tabs at the side and they looked enormous on her. So much so that her dress hardly hid what was now underneath but she placed her discarded knickers in her bag, put on her shoes and said she was in a rush to get home. She checked herself out in the mirror, flashed herself, giggled at her reflection, kissed me affectionately on the forehead and left my room. I was still sucking my thumb and reached for Pandy the Panda, hugged it tightly and lay their dry and comfortable but wondering if anyone would come and tell me a story. **tbc**

Part 5 As I slipped on a pair of boxers another huge worry began to engulf me; why had I messed myself when I was wide awake? I could just about come to terms that I had no control over what happened when I slept but this latest horror I was completely aware of yet I still hadn’t any control. I stood hesitating in my boxers wondering if I’d made the correct choice. Perhaps I should wear some kind of protection… these boxers would hold nothing if I had another accident. If I wore briefs it would be the same affect (unless I wore multi-layers) so my head spun and my stomach churned as I wrestled with this internal quandary. The answer became obvious because in the end I shucked down my boxers and replaced them with one of the free disposables that came from the pharmaceutical company. Once that was taped into place and a pair of their thick pink plastic pants pulled over it, all my worries seemed to disappear. I was comfortable and I was happy simply because I realised that I was now equipped for anything, no matter what. I checked myself out in the mirror and I saw relief in my features where only moments before I looked troubled. I would have been content to spend the rest of the day wearing just that but the family would be returning home soon and I didn’t want to have to fend off any questions. Jeans, trackie-bottoms, pj pants and most of my shorts were too tight to hide this pronounced package. It was thicker than the fabric I had been wearing and I had trouble hiding that fact under my pants. Eventually I found a couple of pairs of shorts that hung loose enough to cope with this bulk and, coupled with an overly large t-shirt, I was almost able to disguise exactly what I was wearing. I wasn’t sure if it would fool anyone but at least, as far as dad would be concerned, I wasn’t flaunting my “nappy-needing ways”. **** I emptied the washing machine and went into the sunlit garden to hang my stuff out. Thankfully the wash had done its job and left my soiled nappy looking clean and bright. Mum had obviously done some washing earlier so I pinned my extra couple of items out next to Maria’s drying nappies and my huge terry nappies. I hadn’t realised how many I had used but my colourful plastic and rubber pants were wafting in the breeze next to my brothers’ underwear and a pang of guilt pierced my gut. For a moment I worried that I was about to fill my nappy again but it passed and I resigned to being the ‘odd’ one in the family. Back in the house I found myself picking up some of Maria’s toys and stuff to put away, however, I ended up sat on the floor playing with them. The rubber dinosaur she would just chew on I now had stomping through the jungle in search of… yes I could see it… Teddy Kong (a version of King Kong). As they faced off; the dinosaur roaring its defiance and Teddy Kong huge and all conquering they lunged and battle commenced. It was epic. The undefeated Teddy Kong had met his ferocious match as the two fought… And that’s how dad discovered me, sprawled out on my belly, playing with my baby sister’s toys, making noises and thoroughly engrossed in the spectacle I had created. I’m sure he clocked my huge padded bum but I didn’t know how long he’d been watching, although my guilty look when I noticed him must have told him something. His look of derision that his 18 year-old son was now acting like a toddler just completed his already low opinion of me. “Don’t let me spoil your… fun.” He said with unrestrained anger. “It’s what I’d expect from a two year-old.” My distress was complete as I suddenly realised I was wetting myself. I was hoping against hope that he didn’t recognise just what else was happening other than my games but his steady stare made me very uncomfortable. “You are just one bloody big embarrassment…” he spat out as I nervously tried to hide away mentally if I couldn’t physically. “On your way to university and playing with baby toys and wearing…” he was so angry he was obviously holding back some torrent of abuse. “For crying out loud… sort yourself out… or clear out altogether. I don’t see why the rest of the family should be put out by your… your… uselessness.” I knew dad was fuming and I daren’t look up at him as I could feel my body suddenly shudder with emotion. Tears flooded down my face and my attempts to say that I was sorry and it wasn’t my fault just came out as a childish whine. I wasn’t helping myself, hugging Teddy Kong and filling my nappy and in that moment I felt like I was a two year-old. Through breathless tears I tried to say sorry again. “I’m sorry daddy (daddy?) I don’t know why this is happening to me.” I gulped in air. “I wish I did…” I let Teddy fall to the floor, “and I’m scared it’s getting worse.” I saw the look of compassion and confusion on dad’s face. He’d never seen me like this and I think it shocked him. “Dad, I really don’t know what’s happening to me. I can’t control it. Do you really think that I want to be dressed like this?” Dad took the few steps towards me and I cowered thinking he was going to hit me or something but instead he put his hand on my shoulder. “No son… I don’t.” He hugged me for the first time in years. “I shouldn’t take out my own anxieties on you… I’m sorry. I realise you are having to contend with something you don’t understand but,” without realising the irony of his actions and words he innocently patted my padded bum, “we’ll get to the bottom of it all.” I could have stayed holding on to dad forever. It was a moment of affection that for some reason he’d withheld from everyone except Maria for so long I wondered if he was having worries at work. When I’d composed myself enough I asked him and he said “No” but I caught a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t worry yourself about anything Joe, we’ll sort this out and get you back to normal and off to University before you know it.” He was being encouraging and positive, two more things that I hadn’t heard from him for quite some time. **** This may sound strange but, hugging dad like that and him hugging me back and offering soothing words made me wish I was a toddler again. It used to be fantastic when I was the only child, both mum and dad made a huge fuss of me and I was constantly getting hugs, tickles and cuddles and that one hug made me realise just what I’d been missing. It was difficult letting dad go but I thought I’d better act grown up and wiped away the tears and thanked him for being so understanding. I went back up to my room, not least because I knew I’d wet myself, although I wasn’t feeling particularly soaked. The new disposable had absorbed everything and, although it was much larger now, it had kept me feeling dry. I would have changed but there seemed little point and I wanted to know just how much this new nappy would absorb before needing to be replaced. There was little doubt that I was wearing something under my plastic pants and the pink surround had tightened considerably under the strain but still held everything firmly. Once again I looked at myself in the mirror and had to admit that dressed this way made me happy – so much for me asking dad if he thought I wanted to be in a nappy – apparently I did. Soon, everyone was home; mum back with Maria and Gary and Steve had returned from school. They had taken to patting my bum every time they realised I was padded and spoke baby talk in mockery of my situation. However, dad put a stop to that by having a go at them and telling them they were too old to act like little kids, and, if they continued ribbing me, for something I couldn’t help, they would be put back into nappies to see how they liked it. They were shocked at dad’s defence and quite taken aback by the consequences of any continued ‘fun’. Even mum wondered where this alignment between dad and me came from but I think she was pleased that he had at least come round to accepting my situation for what it was. The evening meal was eaten in almost silence but when mum asked me what Kate and I did I nearly choked on my mouthful of peas. Spluttering I told her that we’d just been for a walk through the park and eventually I’d walked her home as she got a call… an emergency… and she had to go into work… so I only saw her for a short while. Mum thought that was a shame seeing as she’d arrived so early for us to go out together but then agreed, Kate being Kate, she’s a career girl and work was more important than fun. I couldn’t disagree and was pleased when the conversation turned to Steve’s up-coming game for the school football team. Now, I love my brothers, despite their enjoyment of mocking my current situation but I suddenly began to wonder what they would both look like if dad had carried through his threat and made them wear nappies. There would be no point in me mocking them, as I supposed I’d still be wearing my own but I thought how wonderful it would have been to see them wondering around the house dressed no differently from Maria or myself. I wondered if they would still be the cocky kids they were or if just that simple covering would change the way they reacted. I was happy being a toddler, I was happy being a toddler and playing with Maria but I doubted if either of these two toughies would enjoy being little kids again? I could be wrong of course but I spent the night happily remembering when they were toddlers themselves and the scrapes and trouble they got into then. My head was full of us all as toddlers playing together and enjoying one and others company and I fell asleep with mental images of us zooming around in our nappies not caring about anyone or anything other than having fun. **** This was the first time that my brothers had become part of my dream and, despite it being more than a little weird, in my dream it wasn’t so… it was natural. Gary and Steve, like me, were the ages we were but dressed in just our nappies and all behaving and speaking like toddlers. We were the size we are now yet we were taking our orders for games to play from Maria. Not that she could speak. Oh no. She was sitting in her pushchair, sucking on her dummy but yet, we understood perfectly what she wanted us to do. She was definitely in charge and she had all three of her brothers doing her bidding. The thick fabric nappies we were all wearing could be seen through our clear heavy plastic pants and every now and then, a pair of mysterious hands would appear, slip down the front and check if we were still dry or not. We were all enjoying our roles and I couldn’t remember us having this much fun… ever. It was brilliant to see my brothers crawling around the floor, padded bottoms clearly on display, as they fought battles, went on adventures, played with stuffed animals, sucked on our dummies or drank formula from baby bottles. It was all very exciting and intense but at some point we were told to nap so, exhausted, we curled up together on the floor. A blue fleecy blanket appeared from somewhere and we snuggled together to sleep. However, as if on cue we all took this opportunity to wet ourselves and an audible, contented sigh could be heard. **** When I woke up, I had soaked myself yet again. Yet because of the dream where we were all in it together, I wasn’t that bothered about wetting my nappy since, in my head I reasoned, my brothers had done so as well. For a few seconds I felt liberated that it just wasn’t me, until the dampness spread and I realised that in fact it had been just that, a dream. I was disappointed. However, the dream had convinced me that my brothers should also be wearing nappies as they looked pretty good in them. I wondered how I could get dad to carry out his threat but I knew that was all in my head… it was I who was happy as a toddler not them… although it had been nice to have playmates who were dressed just like me. Meanwhile, all that aside, I got a call from Kate who said she needed to speak with me on an urgent matter, she thought she knew why I was behaving in the way I was. **tbc**

Thanks for your comments Part 4 I slipped into a dream where I was playing in a crib with loads of other little kids but we were all having our nappies checked. I was trying to hide because, although all the other kids were babies, I was 18 but still wearing a nappy and didn’t want the embarrassment of someone slipping their hand down the back to see if I’d wet. I was managing to evade everyone but at the last moment a huge pair of hands reached in and picked me up. I could feel fingers prying open my nappy to check but there was a commotion… some kind of alarm going off… I awoke to see Kate disappear to answer her ringing telephone. I nervously looked down and saw that I was still wearing my protection and it didn’t feel that I had wet at all. A pleasing sense of relief filled me at not messing in front of Kate. I could hear her speaking in the other room and from her tone I gathered there was some kind of crisis. As I swept my legs off the bed and stood on the floor I suddenly got the urge to pee. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just an urge as my piss streamed unrestricted into my nappy. I couldn’t stop the flow and was embarrassed in case Kate returned and saw what had happened. I grabbed for my shorts and, in the panic to hide my shame, my arms, legs and mind couldn’t get coordinated; my legs were conspiring against me as I tried to get two down one hole. Meanwhile, the flood was spreading around my nappy. Unfortunately, the warmth was no comfort and as my anxiety increased I realised I had pulled them up the wrong way round. The swelling nappy wasn’t making it any easier for the shorts to cover up my ballooning plastic pants. There was no doubt about it - I was rattled; the thought of being discovered by my sexy girlfriend and her realising, once and for all, that I was nothing more than an incontinent little baby, was just too much to contemplate at that moment. I managed to slip into my t-shirt just as she returned and, looking very business-like (for someone who was partially naked) told me she had to go into work… an emergency had occurred at the care home. She seemed relieved that I was dressed to go and told me I had to leave immediately as her uncle was coming in a few minutes to pick her up. I was relieved that she was too distracted getting herself ready and hadn’t noticed my panic. She did look sexy wearing just her bra and panties and, to add insult to injury, there was a brief stirring behind the wet folds of my nappy. She told me that when she saw me next she had something to tell me but, at that moment, she simply didn’t have the time. With a kiss and a pat on my padded bottom I was out the door before I realised I would have to walk home as I had no money for bus fares. **** It was four miles from Kate’s house to my own. Thankfully the weather was pleasant so I wasn’t overly worried about the journey. After a while the damp nappy began to feel a little uncomfortable and the irritation was like the inside of my thighs were burning. Not only that but my stomach started rumbling and I was getting shooting pains in my bum. I knew this didn’t bode well and that I’d have to find a toilet pretty quickly otherwise there’d be more than pee filling my nappy. What could have been the happiest day of my life - the day when Kate and I eventually had proper sex - was rapidly deteriorating. The stomach cramps and pain in my bowel were making me walk very awkwardly and desperation was growing. I passed a small park and hoped against hope that there would be a public toilet there. I passed through a little archway and there was a rather rundown public convenience right at the entrance. Relief coursed through my body as I strode purposefully toward the battered sign that pointed the way to the Gents. The place had been bricked up. Anger, resentment and shouting abuse at no one in particular would have to wait as another strong spasm coursed through my body and I knew some kind of bottom explosion was about to happen. I looked around desperate to find somewhere and was thankful to see a small area that was covered in thick bushes. There was little alternative as I managed to manoeuvre myself into the middle of this little wooded grove, quickly unpin my nappy and squat down. The power (and the length of time) for the subsequent gush would have meant a complete disaster for my nappy, plastic pants and shorts had it happened a few seconds earlier than it actually did. I would not have been able to contain all of it and the walk home would have been impossible without everyone knowing what had happened. It only took a few seconds but the pain disappeared and I was soon able to reassess the situation and continue my journey. I had nothing to wipe my bottom with so, without looking to see what mess I’d made of the surrounding ‘idyllic’ little spot, I pulled up my nappy and pinned it back into place. It was then I heard a rustling sound nearby so I nervously reached down to pull up my plastic pants when I heard a man say. “Mmmm, I love to see a boy in a diaper,” I froze in fear. “Honey, if you need any help changing, just give me a call.” It was a middle-aged man who was smiling and admiring me at the same time. If I hadn’t been so embarrassed I might have said something but I was just too ashamed of what had just happened, I wanted to put as much distance between me and the incident as possible. The man unapologetically continued staring as I retrieved my plastic pants, snapped them into place and pulled up my shorts. He was still smiling encouragingly as I made a hurried exit. “Don’t forget… whenever you need help with your diaper…” He shouted after me, “I’d love to be your daddy.” I suddenly thought I should have said to the stupid man ‘it’s a nappy not a diaper’ but the moment had passed and I was far too scared to mutter anything. I shivered at such a weird encounter as I tried to rearrange my nappy, which had bunched up in my desire to escape as quickly as possible. However, once I had made the correct adjustments to my protection, and with the lack of stomach cramps, I had a reasonably happy gait as I continued on my trek home. Although I was aware of my thick nappy I wasn’t bothered if anyone else knew or not, as it was, I never heard any one commenting on my padded walk, so I suppose Kate had been correct about that. Unfortunately, about a mile from home, and without any warning whatsoever, what I thought was a fart was in fact the remnants of my shitty burst and the liquid, unannounced, just gushed into my already rank nappy. It was a strange feeling, which caused me to suddenly pull up in mid-walk and the people who were travelling nearby had to take evasive measures so as not to bump into me. That action produced a lot of negative comment but I was only interested in whether my protection would hold. Perhaps oddly enough, none of the comments were about the thick and obvious protection, which I was sure, was even more apparent now it was full. I stepped to the side, half expecting to see a stream of liquid shit stream down my leg but it appeared that it was contained. Never had I been more grateful to mum making me wear a nappy and Kate dressing me in them that morning than I was just then. I am sure that if I had only been wearing my boxers or briefs, then the entire world and its dog would have witnessed my total humiliation. It may have held but my attempt at walking normally was proving unsuccessful and I ended up with a sort of bowlegged waddle the rest of the way. **** Once home I headed for the bathroom. I was glad to see there was no one else around so I didn’t have to share this particular disaster with anyone. I took off my t-shirt and shorts, which were still in fairly good condition but climbed into the shower still wearing my protection. I was worried just what state my nappy would be in when I eventually took the damn thing off. I let the warm jets revive me a bit first before I ventured to drop the plastic pants and unpin my foul nappy. As the spray revived me I began to think about my day and try to make sense of it all. It had all been very strange. When I thought that my protection had prevented me from having sex with Kate for the first time… yet it had also prevented me from becoming a smelly, walking shit covered disaster. I wondered what the weird man in the park had meant by wanting to be my ‘daddy’ and even more disturbing, what Kate needed to talk to me about. I pulled off the plastic pants, which I believed had done their job magnificently, the thick, almost industrial strength material keeping me safe. Meanwhile, the nappy was in a revolting condition and I thought I’d better pre-wash it in the shower before I put it in the laundry. I dropped the nappy in the washing machine, hit the boil setting and hoped that I could wash away any evidence of the day. Back in my room I was suddenly in a quandary; do I wear my usual briefs or should I put myself back in some protection? If I put on my protection, which I was beginning to view as my natural underwear, no doubt this would only confirm what dad thought of me as a big baby. So, on assessment, I thought I’d keep my nappy wearing until I went to bed. However, when I wasn’t wearing my protection I began to miss it. In fact, without it I began to feel quite vulnerable, it had saved me once and I might need it to do so again. My head was arguing with itself; appear grown-up or feel safe? **tbc**

Part 3 Being around Maria made me appreciate just what the life of a baby was like and, perhaps strangely, I began to envy her world. I suppose you could say that it was my fault for immersing myself so deeply but having people loving, caring, feeding and changing you and being at the top of the list for everything , was a powerful position to be in, even if you couldn’t appreciate that power. In all household decisions it was forever; ‘What impact it would have on Maria?’ If she was sleeping: “Keep the noise down”. If she was sprawled out on the floor: “Watch your step”. If she was being a bit restless: “You’ll have to wait until she’s settled”. Even dad realised he was powerless against the needs of his young daughter. Meanwhile, his eldest son wasn’t getting any better, in fact, if anything, I was getting worse. I was staying in my protection longer, using it as and when I wanted to go, though in truth, only on the odd occasion. However, I was no longer a slave to the toilet and the more I didn’t use it, the easier it got to let flow. It gave me a sort of thrill to know the wetness wasn’t so much comforting but an affirmation that I was a… a… I’d like to say ‘REBEL’ but I suspect it would more than likely be ‘BABY’. I was even sleeping with one of Maria’s stuffed toys (a panda named Pandy) and with her smell all over it, made me fall asleep very contentedly, if accident prone, each night. One morning I was waking up from yet another awful and very soggy dream to find that Kate was standing at the side of my bed. The blankets had fallen away so she could see what I was wearing - so there were no excuses. As I came round, amid a smell of urine and baby powder, I could see her looking aghast at me. Once she saw my embarrassment she apologised but said that dad had told her to come up and wake me, otherwise I would have slept all day. Whether dad knew this would be embarrassing for me or not I don’t know but it was something I could have done without Kate knowing. I stammered something about having terrible nightmares that resulted in me wetting the bed as the reason I was wearing what I was wearing and she seemed happy with this explanation. I tried to cover myself up but she stopped me, told me not to be ashamed as ‘these things happen’ and rested her hand on my thick slippery plastic bulge. She smoothed her hand over the mound and said how cute I looked asleep, especially with the stuffed animal next to me. I think I might have turned several shades of red but she just smiled and continued with her soft stroking of my nappy and gentle stroking of my hair. It was as if she was both reassuring and making up her mind as to what to do next. **** I couldn’t pretend that nothing had happened and although the thick clear plastic had kept everything in check, the discolouration on my nappy was proof that I needed a change. When she suggested she could do it I froze. I didn’t know what to say or do as the sheer embarrassment of her even suggesting such a thing left me speechless. I knew that since she’d been working at the Care Home for many years (in fact since she was a little girl), she had received various certificates or diplomas (or something) to do with care and nursing but this suggestion seemed crazy. Would I be just like one of her old folk who needed help going to the toilet, or did she now see me as a vulnerable child who needed assistance with a fresh clean nappy? She pulled me to my feet, and, still in a state of wonder (stupidly I thought we might kiss) she reached for the waistband and dragged everything down. Protesting was useless and though I’d wanted someone to change me in the past… it wasn’t by my girlfriend, that was just too weird. Meanwhile, there were various things I wanted to say like “NO” and “go away” and “I feel ashamed” and “please don’t tell anyone” but I said nothing, just blushed and shut my eyes out of sheer discomfiture as she unpinned the fabric and pulled it away. I was left standing nervously by the side of my bed naked but with a great looking girl holding my soiled nappy. She quickly pushed me back down onto the bed and set about drying me with a nearby towel. Kate, always the no nonsense girl, appeared to know where everything was and soon I was powdered and had a new nappy pinned efficiently in place. I hadn’t told her I didn’t need to wear a nappy during the day but neither had I told her to stop. For all she knew it could have been just a night time thing for me but, she just assumed I required a fresh one, so that’s what I got. ‘No questions mean no arguments’ so, she was evidently used to just getting on with the job in hand. She continued the process by reaching into my wardrobe, found a pair of plastic pants, my shorts and a t-shirt so I was soon equipped and dressed for the day. Then she held out her hand, said that she had the day off, and we should go and do something. I didn’t quite take in all that had happened… or the conclusions that Kate had made on my behalf… but was suddenly worried about going outside wearing my bulky nappy under my shorts. She assured me that no one would notice and, more to the point, she found it quite ‘amusing’ that only she knew exactly what I was wearing. **** As we left no one in the family commented on my appearance so I assumed she must have been correct. However, I could feel the bulk between my legs and, now I was out and about, the padding certainly made me walk a little differently. With each step, thanks to the plastic pants, there was a slight rustling sound. Still, I was well protected and just happy to be with my girlfriend who hadn’t seemed in the least bit bothered about her recent discovery. Later, as we were sat on a park bench having a can of Coke she voiced her concerns. “Joey.” Her eyes held mine with interest. “How long have you needed…er… protection?” I was taken by surprise. The cola I was drinking nearly cascaded down my nose as she’d given no indication that she was leading up to this question. In fact, there had been no run up to it at all, I thought she’d decided it wasn’t an issue so hadn’t prepared an answer. I wasn’t sure whether to lie or tell her the truth, which was a little strange seeing as I hadn’t mentioned my ‘problem’ before. However, I was a terrible liar and now my ‘secret’ was out decided on the truth. “As we started our finals.” She nodded. “I began having a recurring, embarrassing nightmare about… er… mmm… soiling myself in front of a stadium full of people… and… errr… when I woke up… I’d done just that.” “Do you know why that particular dream?” I shook my head and looked to the ground. For a brief moment she looked as if she had something to say to me, something important, something… but then the moment passed and the concern and reassuring smile returned so I carried on. We were sat side by side and, as I spoke about my recent wet history, she was stroking the front of my shorts. The bulge was very apparent to me and I could feel a little pressure from her manipulative fingers but in general, and perhaps surprisingly, my cock slept under the thick terry fabric. My story of wet mornings and soaked nappies didn’t excite me as much as it appeared to be exciting her. I stopped midway through my tale and looked down at what she was doing. She suddenly stopped. “Do you mind me…” she smiled and gave a shrug of her shoulders, then ran her hand once more over the front of my shorts. “You looked really cute when I saw you this morning.” She smiled. “All innocent and at ease with… er… yourself.” Her hand slipped up the leg of my shorts and sneaked under the plastic to touch my padding. “I love the feel of your… protection… it’s so… slippery and feels ‘sexxxy’.” How could I mind? She was the one who dressed me, she knew exactly what was there and, despite the fact that she said (and emphasised the word) sexxxy, at that moment, I really was not that interested. It seemed strange that Kate was ‘putting out’ more than she’d ever done before. Typical. However, she kept fondling the front of my shorts. This was not something she would normally do and especially not in a public place but I saw a flush coming to her features and I could tell she was getting off on it. Then she got up, grabbed my hand and told me to take her home. **** Back at her house she all but dragged me upstairs to her bedroom. There was nobody else at home so I guess we had the entire place to ourselves and Kate promised that we wouldn’t be disturbed. It looked like my desire to get into her knickers was about to happen but at that moment I wasn’t feeling particularly aroused, although it was plain as day that she was. There was absolutely no finesse once we were in her room. She yanked my t-shirt over my head and pulled down my shorts leaving me in just my plastic protection. She looked longingly at me and I felt vaguely embarrassed when she wouldn’t let me strip any further and was definitely in control of this situation. I wanted to speak but the look of desire on her face was something else and I thought I’d better just go along with it and see how far she was prepared to take this urgency. So, there I was, laid out like a big baby on her bed as she quickly strips off all her clothes. Naked she snuggles up next to me, writhing her hips against my padding and breathing heavily. She pulled my face into her tits and asked me to lick them. I’ve enjoyed doing that in the past so I was up for the job. She wanted me to suck them and called me her “Sweet baby” as I did so. This was something she’d never called me before. In fact, such terms of endearment were not part of her vocabulary but she appeared to like calling me her ‘baby’. Her hips were squirming with growing aggression against my nappy cover as I nibbled and sucked and I began to enjoy the heat - a Kate ‘on heat’ was producing. Thankfully, my cock was now responding to the situation and I could feel it pushing for release from behind its thick wadding. I was stiff, though it was painfully trapped between my legs. However, every time I slipped my hand down to try and relieve the stress, she pulled it back up to her breasts or forced it between her legs. There was no doubt about it… my nappy was staying on and she was getting off on it. My fingers found her moist entry point and despite my own discomfort I at least tried to satisfy my girlfriend. A spasm ran through her body as I fed a couple of my digits into her warm interior and she let out a low growl that I’d never heard before. Her hips were bucking and I could feel from her deep thrusting that my fingers were working a little bit of magic. Her breathing was getting louder and she pulled away from my submissive probing, slid her leg over me and straddled my bulky protection. My cock was still painfully caught up in my nappy but she eased herself on top and continued to ride along the slippery plastic mound. She slipped and slid and writhed around, moaning and groaning with sheer pleasure as her orgasm grew. With her aggressive sliding about on the thick plastic she had made a stiff ridge which, together with my compliant fingers, she was really enjoying. “Ooohhhh yeahhhh baby... My sweet little… mmmm… baby.” Unfortunately, her sweaty thighs, slippery motion and sexy squeals were doing nothing for me. Indeed, I was really quite painfully contained as she whooped, jostled and let out a shriek as she peaked. Streaked with the residue of her love-making (I could hardly call it our love-making) my slippery protection was even greasier as she slowly bucked to her conclusion and let out a huge sigh of relief. Her actions slowed as she came down from the high she’d just given herself and kissed me softly on my lips. “Who’s the sweetest lil baby? Slowly she dismounted me and slid to my side hugging and kissing me. It was something that she obviously needed but I was more than a little confused as to what my part in the operation had been. She kissed my naked chest and settled down to rest and soon she was dozing and I was left with a cock that for all I knew could be broken. I fumbled in my nappy - my cock had returned to its normal flaccid size and, as I rearranged myself, the poor thing felt a bit bruised. I wasn’t sure if I was frustrated, angry or what. I turned to face Kate who was slumbering like an innocent angel and looked at her fantastic naked body. Under normal circumstances I would have been as hard as nails at just the thought never mind the real thing but, wrapped in my protection, my dick didn’t even throb and I settled down for a snooze wrapped in her loving embrace. This was a mistake. **tbc**

Thanks for the comments, please keep them coming Part 2 I was still crying when I woke up and found myself absolutely saturated and the swollen nappy proof of the amount of liquid my body had expelled in the night. Thank god that it had all been absorbed and mercifully, the bed had remained dry. So whilst I had some slight satisfaction I was causing mum no extra washing, she had been proved correct in getting me to wear the appropriate protection. I was stunned at just how heavy a wet disposable felt and it was with some manoeuvring I managed to get to the bathroom, unfortunately, not without Gary clocking my waddle. He was so happy at seeing me in such a state that he was full of giggles and obviously couldn’t wait to tell the rest of the family. As I went down for breakfast everyone (except dad) was looking at me expectantly and my brothers could hardly contain their mirth. There was only one way out of this I had to say something first and own what had happened. Too late. Dad said that from now on I was to be treated like my baby sister and that, as far as he was concerned, I should be in nappies all the time like she was until I learned to use the ‘potty’. I stormed out of the kitchen both angry and ashamed. How could dad be so… fuc… unthoughtful… and in front of my brothers? I was indignant at such unwarranted mockery until I realised that I was still carrying my disposable nappy which I’d meant to get rid of. It was difficult to feel unjustly chastised in such a situation and I skulked from the room with my tail between my legs. I sat on the edge of my bed and tried valiantly to stop the tears from rolling down my face but this, this was just too humiliating. I thought dad had over-stepped a line and I was desperate to get back at him but I soon recognised the fact I was powerless; the only thing that would save me was to get work, stop wetting and GROW UP. Mum came in carrying Maria and tried to console me. Now she had two babies to contend with, one of us on each arm and it has to be said mum had a really nice way of making you feel better. She did concede that dad was being a bit hostile but pointed out he had his own problems to deal with. It had never occurred to me that dad his own trials and tribulations and my bedwetting was just something else he had to contend with. I’d hardly ever appreciated what exactly it was that dad contributed to the family and, probably like everyone else, had things to constantly overcome at the office. Mum put a few things in perspective and it’s safe to say had calmed me down quite a bit by the time she and a contentedly sleeping Maria left my room. I decided to go down stairs and apologise to dad but when I got there of course it was too late he had already left for work. With dad at the office, my brothers at school and mum about to start on the washing (thankfully not as a result of my contribution this time), I was left to look after Maria. You’d think that having a baby around would be an annoyance for someone of my age but in truth I thought she was incredible. Of course I’d watched my younger brothers grow up, though being the eldest, things at times had been strained. However, I thought Maria was just the cutest thing. I loved being around her. Her wide eyes always searching, her wonderful giggles and gurgles as she tried to communicate, her absolutely fantastic smile and even when she cried it seemed more musical than demanding and I’d often arrive first to try and comfort her. As mum carried on with the housework I had my amazing baby sister sitting on my knee. I bounced her up and down, which she loved, told her stories, counted her fingers and blew on her soft little tummy. She giggled of sorts and it suddenly struck me that her nappy and plastic pants were not too dissimilar to the ones I now had to wear at night. We even chatted about that; her gurgles, inquisitive looks, smiles and burps led us to the conclusion that we would both put up with it because - ‘it was for the best’. I told you she was an amazing girl. Being with Maria was an education and I couldn’t wait until she got slightly older and we could actually play with her toys, develop new games and have fun together but, for the moment anyway, I was happy to shake her rattle, read her nursery rhymes and be her eldest, adoring brother. **** Since my ‘conversation’ with Maria I hadn’t minded wearing my protection to bed. In fact, it had saved me from the embarrassment of wet sheets and drying out a mattress as a daily occurrence. However, although mum got my supply of disposables from the hospital (on the quiet), that line of availability soon dried up (no pun intended). Mum only put Maria in disposables when we were going somewhere; otherwise, at home she used thick fabric squares folded to make nappies. As dad had refused to finance my dependence on disposables mum had requisitioned a few larger terry fabric squares from the hospital that had, in the past, been used for their incontinent patients. In a very matter of fact way mum came in one night and said that we no longer had any disposables left but this did not mean I was going to bed unprotected. She produced the huge square and showed me how to fold it and pin it into place. I cringed at the idea but she looked me in the eye and said that either I learn to do it correctly, or she or dad would do it for me. The threat of dad having anything to do with the operation meant that I buckled down to learning how to do it straight away. So, reluctantly, the switch was made. Mum had once again said that if I go a week without wetting then we’d review the situation but I wasn’t confident. If I didn’t dream, I didn’t wet myself so maybe once or twice a week I was dry. However, when I did dream and the storyline or characters were different, it always ended with me being humiliated as I lost control. I’d often try to wake up as I felt the dream coming to its climax but, somehow, that attempt to wake up was incorporated into my struggle and I was left with the same result. I just could not rouse myself once those dreams started. The embarrassment of seeing my nappies and plastic pants hanging next to Maria’s drying on the clothesline in the garden was another degradation I had to endure. However, I was surprised at how quickly I became accustomed to the new nightly regime. So much so that I was quite relaxed about it once I was in my bedroom and choose not to use my PJs to hide the shame, the result was I often slept in just my nappy and plastic pants. My PJ bottoms only held everything tightly in but they couldn’t disguise anything as the bulkiness was still obvious. The rest of the family knew so there was no use pretending. I don’t mean I paraded around the house dressed that way, jeez no, but in my room I felt less restricted and more comfortable wearing only the protection. The plastic and rubber pants I alternated with had proved their worth by never allowing any leakage no matter how soaked I got. The fabric wasn’t as absorbent as the disposables but, as mum suggested, I should use two squares on a night. I did try this but the effect was to make me so huge I could barely walk and, as I was busy encouraging my baby sister to do just that, I thought it was a retrograde step. However, on a couple of occasions I did pair them up and on one of those occasions I was glad I had as I’d somehow ripped the plastic pants I was wearing (possibly because of the bulk). Thankfully the double diaper had soaked everything up and so prevented any spillage. Meanwhile, mum asked her friends at the hospital if they had a replacement pair but was told, in no uncertain terms, that the free supply of materials was now suspended. However, she was directed to another friend who worked for a pharmaceutical company that supplied incontinence clothing and she sent samples of their products. The night the package arrived I slept in a double nappy and a huge pair of clear thick plastic pants that gripped me tightly and held everything in place. In fact, the free samples included a few pairs of disposables and both plastic and rubber pants in various colours. They were extremely sturdy and very well-made and it was obvious that these pants weren’t going to accidently rip apart. These rugged pieces of protection were just more things I had to get used to. For instance, since school finished I hardly ever saw Kate because she was working the break until university at her uncle and aunts care home looking after the elderly residents. She was so busy that when she did get home she was always so exhausted she never wanted to do anything. My mates had either gone on vacation or were working and for some reason I felt vulnerable moving too far away from home in case I started spontaneously wetting myself. There was no real sense as to why this might happen but my confidence was at an all-time low and my ‘problem’ was praying on my mind. In the end I think I became quite a help to mum looking after Maria as she was able to see friends and visit people without having to take the baby everywhere. Not that I’m making out she didn’t want to, it was just an option she now had as I was happy to be left in charge. It may seem silly but on more than one occasion I had changed into my nappy and plastic pants so I was dressed like Maria, and we’d crawl around the floor (well I crawled she just lay on my back) together exploring the world from her perspective. Babies smell wonderful; all the cuteness and powder, but add that to those wide eyes and gurgles… believe me… my sister’s smile would set me up for the day. Maria was my friend. Baby or not, she was the only one in the family who wasn’t judging me. My brothers took every opportunity to ridicule me; one night they sprinkled talcum powder all over my bed so that my room would smell ‘just like a nursery’. My dad hardly spoke to me and mum, despite doing all she could for me, was at her wits end wondering when she’d get her eldest back to normal. It was only when I slept that I wet so I was fine during the day so I pretended I was OK with it all, and in many ways I’d simply come to accept what I couldn’t control… but it was difficult day to day dealing with my family. Thankfully, Maria proved to be my saviour as we’d spend a lot of time together and I found myself happy to be her age as we ‘talked and played’. However, and this was something I didn’t tell mum or anyone else for that matter, on some occasions, when there was just the two of us together, I filled my nappy when she filled hers. It wasn’t something I was aware of to begin with but soon, it had happened on far too many occasions for it not to be a bit spooky. I could tell by the way Maria acted and her facial expression when she used her nappy so I guess I must have just picked up on them and, well, I was already wearing my protection, I just gave in to the need. It was easy for me to change her but I began to wish that I had someone to change me. Unfortunately, I didn’t and walking around in a wet nappy soon lost its appeal so I had to do it myself. The washing line, flapping in the wind with our freshly laundered nappies and plastic pants, were a beacon to everyone that there was more than one bed-wetter at our house. **tbc**

My Nightmares Have Become Dreams Part 1 The crowd is cheering as I stand almost on the halfway line at Wembley Stadium. I have just scored the most spectacular long-range goal of my career in this, the final game that will determine the Premier League title. One hundred thousand people are shouting my name “Joey, Joey, Joey”. One hundred thousand people’s eyes are on me as I become aware that… all was not what it appears. I don’t understand. As I stand with my arms held aloft in celebration, everything suddenly goes quiet. Where has my shirt disappeared to? Why are my shorts suddenly slipping down my thighs… and why can I do nothing to prevent this from happening? Here I am, alone in the middle of the pitch, naked but for a thick nappy and the crowd starts laughing at me. I see my image up on the big screen. The terry-towelling nappy is held together at the front by a single huge pink safety pin. It all looks so thick and immense in close-up. The laughter grows as I try to hide my embarrassment; the big screen captures every detail. There is nowhere to hide and I can do nothing to conceal my shame. There appears to be no one else on this hallowed turf to protect me. No team mates, no opposing team… where have they all gone? The supporter’s laughter reaches hysterical levels as they point and shout - wondering if I wanted my mummy… ‘Do you want your bot-bot changing?’ ‘Do you need a dummy?’ ‘Ahhh, poor widdle baby’. They all appear to be screaming baby-talk at me and as they do so, the flow of warm piss into my nappy is picked up by the camera, as is the fact that I am now on the verge of tears. The crowd’s mocking intensifies. Abruptly, as if from nowhere, a man in black appears by my side. I recognise him as a referee and he is carrying something. He pulls a whistle from his mouth and sticks it in my own but it isn’t his whistle, it’s a dummy, all pink and bulbous. I suck on it briefly and it restores some calm but then he thrusts a teddy bear into my arms, which for some reason I gratefully accept and start to cuddle. That’s when my bowels let loose and I fill my nappy once more only now, the camera picks out the huge discolouration on the seat. The big screen displays my disgrace, while a hundred thousand voices rise in laughter filling my head as I am led crying from the field of play, waddling slowly in my heavy, sagging nappy, towards the exit. **** The noise rouses me from my sweaty dream. The alarm clock radio was on full blast and playing some heavy hard thrash music. This isn’t what I want to wake up to but neither is the state of my bed and worst of all, my PJs. This is the fourth night in a row that I’ve had the same dream. A moment of absolute triumph is destroyed to become a distressing nightmare. This is also the fourth time I have messed my bed and the commotion of my noisy alarm clock and my sudden yelp of realisation as to what has happened had brought mum into my room. There is no getting away from the evidence; the mess, the smell and my guilty face are all she needs to know that it has happened again. She screws up her nose and says quite calmly “That’s it.” I instantly know what she means. She isn’t going to put up with my ‘problem’ anymore and she already told me, after the first incident, that I should sleep with protection to save my embarrassment and her having to wash and clean up after me. She isn’t a terrible woman, but at 18 I should be able to control my body. My two younger brothers have no trouble getting up in the night and only my little baby sister Maria (a very late arrival to the family) needs help with her toilet requirements. Mum has already indicated that, to spare my blushes she wasn’t going to tell anyone else about my problem but, and there are no buts to her argument, I will be wearing a nappy and plastic pants to bed for the foreseeable future. It’s what my baby sister needs and that is exactly how I will be treated. She did add that if I can go an entire month without wetting or messing then she’ll rethink my extra night time ‘equipment’. Meanwhile, she put in a call to her colleagues at the hospital where she worked (that was before the arrival of the baby) and got her plans underway. As the eldest son I have my own room, which I have made clear to my younger brothers they do not enter (on pain of some unspoken evil) without my express permission but I did notice that they both caught a whiff of my bodily secretions and may already have guessed what had happened. I didn’t get chance to disagree with my mum especially when dad told me that I was lucky that was all that was required of me. His stern expression emphasising that arguing would not only be pointless but might make for a more severe punishment (although mum didn’t see it as a punishment, merely sensible protection). My dad wasn’t convinced that I couldn’t do anything to stop what was happening and thought I was just being an uppity, slovenly teenager. He had very little time for his eldest son, who in his opinion, seemed to have regressed to a little baby and he had enough responsibility with his (unexpected) youngest child to cope with. **** The school year was almost over, exams taken and lessons more or less abandoned as we lazily went through the actions of those final days. I had no idea why my dream should cause me so much anxiety; I liked football but it wasn’t going to be my career. I’d breezed through the exams and assumed I’d done pretty well but, with the holidays looming, I still hadn’t found a part time job to see me through summer and my eventual results. What was more embarrassing was that my two younger brothers both had jobs. Gary, who is 12, has a paper round and Steve, who is 15, works with his mate on his father’s fruit and veg stall in the market over the weekend. Dad has refused to finance, what he sees as my lazy attitude to work, so I have no money. He thinks I could have found something, anything, if I’d tried but to him this is all part of my lethargic and disinterested way I live my life, always depending on others. This bout of bed wetting is just further proof of my ‘indolence’ of ‘can’t be bothered even getting up and going to the bathroom’ and his anger with me is on the cusp. I feel that if I argue, complain or in any way annoy him he’ll just explode and it will be worse for me. **** I had planned a first holiday with my girlfriend Kate to start the week after the school year finished. We thought we’d take a break before she had to start work whilst waiting for our results and eventually university. We’d planned on going to the same one, although taking different courses, and hoped we’d be able to get accommodation together. I hoped many things for my future but one of the main things that I yearned for was to be able to get into Kate’s knickers once we were away from home and living together. We’d been doing everything except that last real bit of sex and the frustration was driving me mad but, she said, she wasn’t going to lose her virginity just because I wanted her to, she could be quite controlling in that way. Mind you, in my current ‘situation’ I wasn’t keen on sleeping with her just in case I made a mess – I’m sure that would be the kiss of death to any relationship. Now I couldn’t afford to go, even camping would have been too expensive and, my dad would have seen it once again that I was running away from my responsibilities. It’s not that the family is poor. Dad has a well-paid job and up until the baby, mum was pretty well paid in her exec capacity at the hospital. However, Dad’s ethos has always been ‘you get nothing for nothing’ so, although I sought my escape in the prospect of university, I really was relying on my family to support me up until I went away. It wasn’t that I hadn’t tried to get work, well, I had tried but there were few opportunities around and I guess I was just too picky, thinking I was better than what was on offer. Mum had arranged for a part-time job at the hospital but I really didn’t want to be carting bodies around the wards with all those ill people – uuurggh! Mum was OK with my decision, saying it wasn’t a job for everybody but dad was furious and called me a little kid, scared of work and getting my hands dirty. The fact that I was now wetting the bed on a regular basis added nothing to his low opinion of me… and I suppose I could see his point. **** Mum had got her supplies from the hospital and I was greeted with them when I went to bed that night. Grown-up disposables and plastic pants were laid out on my bed and mum insisted that I wear them as she was damned if she was going to be mopping up after me anymore. I’m fairly easy going and don’t like conflict, that’s why I rarely argue with mum or dad, but I could see her argument on this and, I have to say, as reluctant to take this step as I was I thought it was the easiest of solutions to my immediate problem. Mum said it was only until the problem disappeared, hopefully, as quickly as it had arrived. That night it felt strange wrapping myself in the thick disposable (mum had offered to help but I told her I could manage) and it took a few attempts at getting the tapes tight enough for the damn thing to stay up. Eventually it appeared to be in place and I looked in the mirror and burst into fits of laughter – I looked a right loon. I even did a little dance I thought I looked so stupid… the whole thing was hilarious. I slipped the plastic pants, a sort of thick creamy colour, over it all and to hide the bulge pulled on my PJ pants. The bulkiness was something I thought I’d never get used to. When I was standing up and dancing around, it had all seemed so funny but now, as I tried to get to sleep, it felt hot and uncomfortable. The slickness of the plastic pants meant that my hand kept stroking the front of my bulge but I could hardly feel my cock through the thickness, this I found quite disconcerting. The plastic had a texture of its own which, I surprisingly found stimulating and continued to play around with the silky mound until I fell asleep. The dream was slightly different this time. Instead of being at Wembley I was on a camping holiday with Kate and it was she who was consoling as I wet myself. She pulled down my drenched pants and checked my soaked nappy and proceeded to start to change me in full view of the passing public (who on this occasion were a group of young hikers… all of whom were laughing at me). Kate was not putting up with my protests and insisted that I let her see to my needs or we were through, she wasn’t going to put up with a baby who didn’t want to be changed and that was that. I had no alternative but let her get on with it but the growing audience of a troop of scouts and an old folks walking group only added to my embarrassment. I started to cry. **tbc**

Part 5 Once the kids were all tucked up in bed Marie and Earnest reassessed their ‘plan’. Taking the opinion of the school on board (as they could hardly ignore it) they decided that the Pinocchio outfit had served its purpose and would no longer feature in the grand scheme. The report from Miss Martin that Thomas’s attitude had improved was greeted with relief but, to make sure it continued, he was told he’d still have to wear diapers until they were absolutely certain it was a permanent change. They also breathed a sigh of relief hoping their brief venture into spanking their child was now at an end. They’d really struggled with justifying that side of things but, and they had to consider the possibility, it might have been the ‘short, sharp, shock’ needed to get Thomas to toe-the-line. Come the morning and a soaked boy greeted his mummy with a yawn and stretch unaware that things were about to take a turn for the better. She could see the bloated disposable and helped her son from his bed and stripped him out of his protection. As this was done she informed him what her and daddy had decided about the Pinocchio clothes and diaper. If he really didn’t want to wear a thick diaper to school he’d have to prove he was responsible enough to learn it was wrong to tell lies, make fun of people or disrupt class. Oddly enough Thomas understood what he was being asked to consider and was also very thankful he didn’t have to wear the stupid outfit any longer. Of course he didn’t mention that he thought the outfit was stupid, he merely hugged mummy in gratitude. His spirits picked up now he knew he could get back to wearing proper clothes; he just had to make sure he didn’t revert back to his old ways. It would have appeared that, in Thomas’s case at least, the ‘short, sharp, shock’ had a meaningful effect. Lying in bed and feigning sleep, Mary heard all that was said. She didn’t like the idea that things were so soon getting back to normal with her brother. The scheming five year-old had overheard mummy say that Thomas would have to stay in diapers until he proved he could have a wet-free night but he could be out of daytime diapers if he was able to control his temper. This information gave her further thoughts on how to prove he, along with Carrie, were big babies, and she so much more responsible. # Thomas was unconcerned with having to wear a diaper under his normal school clothes because it was nowhere near as thick as the previous day. In fact, it was hardly noticeable at all and, despite the muffled rustle of his plastic pants, he felt far more confident. His mummy had said that if he maintained those good reports, then he’d not have to wear thick diapers again but… the inference was there and he understood. Just being able to wear his usual school polo shirt and shorts was such a relief and was quick to get involved in his friend’s games. After the shock of the day before and his team mates seeing him in Carrie’s playpen, he was just glad to have buddies he could lark around with. Of course they hadn’t forgotten his thick diapers but, without the Pinocchio costume, and the lack of thick padding, the ribbing all but disappeared. Just the simple fact he was no longer wearing the ‘Liars’ uniform seemed to send a message to the class that he was no longer a liar. How or why that should be no one really knew but Thomas was accepted back into his gang with barely a mention of the previous day. Of course there were some whispers but in general, things had returned to the way it had been. Thomas, being well aware he was under incredible scrutiny from the teachers, was well behaved, even towards Jeremy and Binda, who he made a point of chatting to. He helped Jeremy with some adding and subtracting, which was something he’d never done before and the cartoon-loving boy was overjoyed at being able to finally do something he’d never quite understood before. Miss Martin was very impressed. Indeed, throughout the day Thomas was surprisingly animated, fun, attentive and helpful – none of these traits had been apparent before. Lunchtime passed off without incident and he even offered the boy whose lunch he’d stolen only a couple of days earlier his sweet treat. Thomas surreptitiously asked the teacher to change him after lunch and this was carried out without any of his classmates being aware such a thing had happened. When Marie came to collect him she was proud that the reports were so positive and Thomas beamed under the praise of both mother and teachers. He liked this way of getting attention and found it easier than he thought it would to be nice instead of a bully. Miss Martin and the other teachers were shocked at this rapid change and began to wonder if perhaps the strange punishment had some value after all. However, it was early days and things could change, look how they had since a few days ago. On the journey home Mary tried her best to whisper things to her brother in the hope of making him mad, he didn’t rise to any of the childish insults. In fact, at one point mummy had told Mary off for annoying her brother, which didn’t go down well at all with the little schemer. She sat there fuming and flapping her dress in annoyance and also, as always, to prove she wore panties and not a diaper. Over the evening meal, as Earnest fed Carrie and mummy took a welcome break she was full of compliments for Thomas. She took great delight in telling her husband what the teacher had reported and they heaped praise back on their blushing son. He’d never been the recipient of such admiration and wriggled (and crinkled) bashfully in his seat as mummy patted his head in delight. Mary tried to interrupt saying she’d had a good day and been ‘very grown-up’ but was not rewarded with the approval her brother received. It was all about ‘him’ again and she wasn’t happy at all. He even volunteered to continue to feed Lizzie so his father could eat his meal without interruption; this was met with nods of approval from the real grown-ups. Over the next few days Mary saw her power slowly ebbing away as Thomas was allowed to wear shorts over his much thinner protection. The positive school reports had continued and Thomas was quickly becoming a real friend to everyone. Even when it was bed time he was back to jim-jams which covered his babyish plastic pants. She was as furious as any powerless five year-old could be, he was beginning to look a lot less like the big baby she’d hoped he would stay and back to being her annoying older brother. Alas, his attitude towards her had also diminished and he took very little notice of her whispered insults and general irritation. She tried her best to get him into trouble but it just wasn’t working. Over the next couple of weeks Thomas behaved impeccably at school as well as at home. He was thoughtful, helpful and there was no sign of the tantrums of old. Marie and Earnest were congratulating themselves on a job well done. There were other developments as well as their son’s attitude. At one point Thomas had gone four nights without wetting and only had to continue for another three to be out of his thick night time diapers and back into his PJs. Mary had enjoyed watching as her older brother was nightly wrapped in a diaper and had his plastic pants smoothed down over the padded material, whilst she simply wore a nightie to bed with no such protection. In her eyes it meant he was still a toddler but things were changing fast and it looked like he’d soon be back to a diaper-free existence. Thomas was confident he’d make it a complete week without wetting. He knew the rule that he had to complete seven nights without as much as a damp spot to be able to qualify for a diaperless existence. In fact, he’d taken charge of his nocturnal bathroom arrangements and found he could hold it if needed. He was also doing the same during the day at school, so changes by the staff had dropped to zero. It looked like in just a few days things would be back as they were. Knowing that if he did wet at any point during those final few days ‘project PJs’, as Thomas had called his return to normal nightwear, would be re-set and he’d have to start all over again. This gave Mary had an idea. # No one was aware of just how clever Mary was. Her plan was not one you’d associate with a five year-old. It was devious and cunning, and although had its origins in a book of fairy-tales she’d read about naughty elves getting their own back on some fairies, she executed it with incredible competence. She pinched one of his diapers and put it on Carrie. She often volunteered to help mummy sort her sister out, so this action wasn’t out of the ordinary. The fact that Lizzie was wearing a much bigger diaper went un-noticed and Mary was quick, once it was wet, to make sure it was she who got to her little sister first. After all, she had become mummy’s little helper. Once the wet evidence was in her possession she calmly hid the offending article under Thomas’s bed for it to be discovered later by someone else. The morning of its detection was greeted by denials by Thomas that he had anything to do with it. He was in tears imploring his mummy that it wasn’t his even though all the signs pointed to a deception. Mary was sat at the kitchen table when all this kicked off and some of the old Thomas returned when he threw a tantrum because he wasn’t being believed. Though he could do nothing else, and because his mummy thought he was lying, he got a quick slap to his naked bottom followed by a very thick diaper fitted in place for school. The smack stopped his tantrum immediately. Although in reality it was just a tap, Thomas was aware of what it could lead to and instantly stopped his fussing. The boy had learned very fast how to avoid unnecessary pain. He wasn’t happy about the thick diaper but at least he hadn’t received a sore bottom this time. Mary was very pleased and sat innocently eating her cereal as her brother was called a little liar and punished. She couldn’t help but smile as she saw her tear-stained brother sit grumpily at the table, his shorts padded and huge with the plastic pants just creeping into view. He was very upset and implored his daddy to believe him but he couldn’t explain how the wet diaper had got there. At no point did anyone suspect Mary. Regardless of the fact that she had been very vocal about being the ‘grown-up’ in the family, her parents hadn’t made the link. Because it was always about Thomas, Mary’s involvement wasn’t considered. As far as they were concerned no one was to blame for the secreted diaper except the culprit Thomas. They knew it was a big deal for their son to get all his privileges back and assumed that he was so scared that this one transgression meant a return to constant diapers he’d engineered a fresh diaper after soaking the one he’d been wearing. The fact that he hadn’t admitted to the fraud when it had been discovered was what made his parents angry. They thought he was through with lying, yet here he was, caught red-handed and refusing to admit his guilt. The poor boy wasn’t believed and he spent the rest of his well-padded day in an angry sulk. At school he was once again inhibited by his thick cushioning. The teachers noticed the change in temperament and his moodiness, though this time it didn’t spill over into anger with his school chums. He hated his parents for not believing him but he had no idea how the wet diaper had got there. He told Miss Martin the tale and how excited he was to be soon out of his diapers but that wasn’t going to happen now, he broke down in tears. His teacher cuddled and consoled him and thought he was probably telling the truth but again, without another suspect, she had no answer. This was a huge setback for Thomas as it was for his parents. They had been overjoyed at the rapid progress he’d made since the Pinocchio suit and spanking days. They weren’t sure if any of that had been the catalyst to their son’s rapid conversion but were sorely disappointed that he didn’t feel he could own up to his wet diaper and felt he had to conceal it. However, a chance remark Earnest made to one of his colleagues at work about kids lying had led to an eye-opening story he hoped wasn’t true in his case. # The colleague had assured him that his own ten year-old son had gone out of his way to do all he could to drop his older sister in it because she was going to a concert but he was too young. He really hated the fact that she was old enough to do things that he wasn’t allowed and it drove him mad with jealousy. Despite the sister telling her parents what was happening they simply refused to believe that their ‘Angel’ of a son could, or would, be so divisive or vindictive. However, the complaints from his sister got to such a level that they had to take notice and she became like an avenging ninja, she left traps for her brother to fall into. Pretty soon she had enough evidence to take to her parents to prove what she’d been saying all along. Her brother was being nasty. There fears were realised when they caught him using his sister’s ‘unattended’ cell phone to send a vicious text to one of her friends. Caught in the act, and with the text still on the screen, he had no defence. He complained that he was being treated as a toddler, not being allowed to go to concerts when his sister was and he regarded it as very unfair. However, his parents didn’t see it that way and were angry with themselves for not believing their ‘little angel’ could do something so sly against his sister. They changed their opinion once the facts were known and, after apologising for their disbelief at their daughter’s claims, set about teaching their son a hard lesson. Firstly, they took away all his privileges and told him if he thought he was being treated as a toddler before, he would be given a chance to think again. Everything he did was closely monitored; he wasn’t allowed to watch any grown-up TV, restrictions placed on how much time allowed to play with his friends and most infuriating for the boy, early bath and bed time. To add further to his punishment, and to emphasise he was acting like a baby, they put him in a diaper and footed PJs every night. With the threat hanging over him that every time he acted up, lied or was nasty to anyone (though especially his sister), his bed time would be moved a half hour earlier, he dare not complain. As Earnest’s work colleague observed: “They’re all little angels… until they’re found out!” # This story set off alarm bells in Earnest’s head. He’d completely ignored the way Mary had been acting up in attempting to get Thomas into trouble. Normally her huge innocent eyes would have made the idea unthinkable but now, well, he might have to re-think the way they had dismissed Thomas’s claim. He discussed the story with his wife but she scorned the idea of her sweet-natured, five year-old daughter being devious enough to come up with such a plan. She thought it far more likely that Thomas had been scared to admit having an accident so near to his escape from diapers… “Oooohhh,” now, a shiver of recognition ran down her spine. She too remembered some of the things her daughter said to try and enrage her brother. It never amounted to much, but there again mummy wasn’t always around when the two were left together. Another thing she recollected was how Mary was always happiest when he was in his diaper and plastic pants because she’d said, on more than one occasion, how nice it was that Carrie had another baby to play with. At the time she just thought she was being cute… but perhaps…? They didn’t want to believe she could be capable of such a thing, but there again they didn’t want Thomas to be accused of something when he was totally innocent. They had to come up with a plan and quickly, they didn’t want Thomas reverting back to his old ways after he’d come such a long way. Over tea mummy made sure that her son knew that his teachers had put in a good word for him. Of course, Mary was sitting enjoying her brother’s sullen look but the fact Miss Martin had spoken up raised his spirits. Marie informed him that, if he could go the next two nights, the entire weekend, without wetting again, then he could go without diapers as promised… but only if he didn’t wet. As far as Mary was concerned this was a complete betrayal. Mummy and daddy had set down rules for him to gain back his briefs and PJs and now they were reneging on the plan. It wasn’t fair. Whereas her brother had been the glum one, it was now Mary’s turn to feel let down. She couldn’t believe that after all she had done they still believed Thomas shouldn’t be permanently in diapers. She had two nights to prove to her parents that there was only one of their children who wasn’t a baby, and that was her. Carrie was going to be in for a very wet weekend as her sister attended to her every need. She fed her copious bottles of milk, dressed her and changed her, insisting that mummy leave it all to her. Marie knew something was going on but didn’t know exactly what. However, she had put her own little test into operation and hoped to see the results – one way or another – pretty soon. Of course, Mary again used her brother’s larger diapers to swaddle Carrie and once a couple had been reasonably soaked she hid them away until needed. On the Sunday night, after they’d been put to bed, no one except Mary knew that hidden in a couple of locations were two very soggy diapers. One had been concealed at the bottom of Carrie’s diaper pail and the other secreted under her own bed. She had planned on discovering the evidence whilst looking for a lost dolly and her mummy was in the bedroom as witness. She would cry and say it wasn’t hers and that Thomas must have put it there. She planned a little tantrum of her own and hoped her usual look of purity and innocence would divert any accusations back at her brother. After all, he was the one needing diapers, he was the one who wet the bed, not her… but she wanted more and in doing so pushed her luck. She bet this wasn’t the only time he’d wet over the weekend and that he might have hidden other soaked diapers elsewhere. She even inferred that daddy should look in Carrie’s pail for evidence. What she didn’t know was that Thomas’s diapers had been marked and that tiny little spot on the corner of the fabric would prove who was telling a lie. When the newly discovered ones didn’t have the mark mummy knew that the wet diapers were fake because he was still wearing the dry marked one. When confronted with the evidence of her failed evil plan, she maintained her innocence and insisted it was Thomas who was the wrongdoer. She couldn’t believe her parents had caught her out and hoped that her constant accusations of Thomas’s babyishness and need to wear diapers would somehow sway them. Unfortunately, this barrage against her brother and continual denial of her own guilt proved to mummy and daddy that she was the ‘little liar’ in their midst. Now things had changed on this particular Monday morning the atmosphere was completely different. As a happy Thomas dressed for school wearing briefs and no sign of a diaper, Mary was weak with worry. Sleeping had been particularly difficult once she realised her parents didn’t believe her and became quite apprehensive as to what would happen next. When her mother came in carrying a pile of thick diapers, cream, powder and plastic pants and the slightly altered Pinocchio suit… Mary had her answer. ####### THE END