Les Lea

Part 4 Whilst his mummy led a reluctant Thomas into class, he could feel the extra thickness of the diaper and sweaty heat his plastic pants produced as he once again became the focus of attention. All his classmates gathered around him but thankfully Anthony, the boy who’d fondled his padding the day before, to the relief of Thomas, wasn’t there. However, the puffier shorts did make some of the more forward boys and girls curious. “Hey Tommy,” some chirruped, “see you got your liar suit on again.” Normally this type of comment came from him and directed at some loser in the wrong kind of t-shirt. He felt strangely inhibited as they’d tugged at the bow or laughed at his babyish red shorts with the suspenders. He suddenly found himself as one of the ‘picked on’ and surprising for Thomas, he didn’t have a clever comeback. In fact, he wriggled uncomfortably away from the comments and unfriendly smiles - he just wanted to be left alone. “Cool pants,” they mocked, “did your baby sister not need them?” Seven year-olds can be very spiteful, but ‘Hey’, look who they directed it towards. All the other kids were dressed normally; none had clothing that was anywhere near as colourful, apart from Jeremy and Binda. These two were the only classmates who wore vivid garments. Jeremy because he liked bright colours and was a fan of a certain very popular cartoon show on TV. Everything he wore, from his little briefs to his jacket, was somehow connected to that program. He was also the youngest and most juvenile of the group and, as Thomas had often said in a sarcastic fashion, he was more like a six than a seven year-old. Then there was Binda who, because her parents came from Asia, dressed their daughter in shiny vibrant fabrics that wouldn’t have been out of place in a Bollywood movie, which she also liked. At any opportunity she would start to dance and sing, throwing her hands into a myriad of shapes, her golden bangles ringing and tinkling to some lively rhythm in her head. Both these two were the only ones who thought the Pinocchio outfit looked okay. But Thomas being Thomas didn’t want to be part of the group of ‘weirdly dressed’ people, so tried to ignore their offered friendship. However, his normal pack of friends had suddenly discovered other, more interesting mates and found himself being side-lined. Worse, he was now the subject of giggles and whispers... he was no longer a leader of his little pack of school friends. He was also frightened of too much movement because of the subtle crinkly noise his new see-thru plastic pants made and dreaded having to ask the teacher to change him. Although Anthony wasn’t there to spread the news he’d discovered the day before, even without him Thomas’s secret was easily identified. Everyone thought it terrific that their little liar, their Pinocchio, the most confident but unpleasant boy in class, should be punished like he was. His thicker, more obvious padding giving the game away as almost immediately, before the teachers had chance to intervene, they were pulling at his shorts, pushing up the legs holes and tugging at the waistband trying to get a look. Thomas fought them off as best he could but there were just too many interested and grabbing hands that he found his loose-fitting shorts pulled down revealing his see-thru plastic pants and the undeniable large disposable underneath. Everyone now had a good look. There was laughter and comments, pointing and pats, never had Thomas wanted to be somewhere else as much as he did at that moment. Then in front of his classmates the resentment disappeared to be replaced by dread as he let a stream of uncontrollable pee fill his diaper. Thankfully, those extra soak pads his father had introduced meant he was so well protected that probably nobody noticed. However, as the warmth spread around his boyish bits he worried that the indicator motif on the disposable might activate at any moment. He desperately wanted to get away from the crowd. Despite everything… he knew what he had to do and asked Miss Martin, who had just entered the room, spurred on by the shrieks and joyful laughter, for help. “Please Miss.” His voice low and trembling as the embarrassment peaked and his bravado dissipated. “I need to, er, I, erm, I’m, er, I need…” This was a first for him, actually, well almost admitting to something. Noticing his distressed appearance she quickly shoo-ed the other kids away and helped Thomas into a small ante-room that doubled as the school storeroom and first aid centre. Thomas just stood there in shock with tears streaming down his face, never had he been so ashamed or scared of his friends. He held tightly onto his dishevelled shorts that had been yanked down revealing the view he was so desperate to hide. Although he hated his mummy and daddy for putting him through such embarrassment, at that moment, he just wanted some sympathy and hugs from someone who cared. Miss Martin provided that consolation. In truth, this was not what his parents had intended to be the outcome of making their son’s diaper thicker. They’d wanted him to realise that with each lie there were consequences and, whereas, in Pinocchio’s story it was his nose that grew, his daddy hoped that the increasing size of his diaper might have a similar effect. Earnest had failed to realise just how awful and vindictive kids could be and had not allowed for that element into his reckoning. His muddled plan seemed simple but there were too many other things that could influence its outcome. The couple’s plan was falling apart. Meanwhile, Miss Martin patted the crushed little seven year-old’s thick padding offering soothing words and a warm embrace. Thomas didn’t want to leave the safety of that little room, or his teachers comforting hug. She, seeing an opportunity that Thomas had offered, slid her hand down the back of his shorts to check just how damp her weeping pupil was. Thomas didn’t mind, he just didn’t want to go outside and face his classmates. Although he was damp, Miss Martin guessed that his diaper could take several more dowsing’s before he needed to be changed. She re-fastened his shorts and smoothed the disturbed fabric and protection back into place, gently patting and stroking the boy’s padded bottom in reassurance. Once back in class and teachers present, stern words and disapproving looks meant the mocking of Thomas all but ceased. Miss Martin was never totally on-board with this public form of punishment but decided she would have words with Thomas’s parents in the hope of changing their minds. As it was, it certainly looked like it had been effective in the short term because he was on his very best behaviour, not wanting to upset either the kids or teachers. # Back in kindergarten Mary was enjoying the feeling of being grown-up and it affected the way she interacted with her playmates. Before she’d never noticed how childish some of the other pre-schoolers were, she was so much more independent then them. Quite a few needed help from the assistants to do some of the most basic tasks, whilst others, like her big baby brother, were still wearing diapers. She hadn’t known that morning her daddy had to surreptitiously pull out her frock because it was caught up in her princess panties. He did it while telling her what a big and clever girl she’d been in dressing herself. She, proud of her abilities, hadn’t noticed the subtle manoeuvre. Alas, her coordination wasn’t quite as good as she thought it was. # When Maria came to pick up her son at home time, she was confronted by both a very distraught Thomas and an equally unhappy teacher. Miss Martin took his mummy aside and explained what had happened and was sure that the miserable boy had learned his lesson as he’d been on his best behaviour all day. She also added that all the teachers were of the same opinion that this form of punishment was unfair and the Pinocchio suit was no longer appropriate. The continued embarrassment of Thomas would not be allowed in school time or on their premises Maria was quite taken aback by this attack on her parenting skills. She and her husband had hoped that their attempt at a ‘short, sharp shock’ for their son to see the error of his ways, was better than the prolonged battle they had been engaged in and, which up until then, had produced no results whatsoever. Unfortunately, now she had to see the error of their ill-conceived plan. Before she left Maria had to promise that any further action would not be taken which involved the school in any way. However, Miss Martin agreed that if Thomas had an ‘accident’, they would do all they could to make sure he was returned to a dry diaper. As long as he requested that help, otherwise they wouldn’t get involved … so it was up to him to admit when he needed a change. Miss Martin explained that he’d already asked her a couple of times that day he needed help, so saw no trouble in future from him on that particular issue. Marie was suitably impressed and she experienced a shiver of pride run down her spine. He’d admitted to something, so this was tremendous and unexpected news. Thomas sat in the rear car seat looking gloomy and upset all the way home. Marie felt those pangs of guilt that the ‘experts’ had warned her against but, with the condemnation from school, she and Earnest would have to come up with a different plan. Meanwhile, Thomas had been so severely shocked by that day’s experience he never wanted to go to school again. He was also unaware of the conversation that had taken place between mummy and his teacher and had no idea that his Pinocchio days were at an end. On the way they picked up Mary who was still very pleased with herself, chatting nonstop about how helpful and grown-up she’d been and how all the teachers had said how grown-up she was. Actually, none of them had said anything of the sort. It was all in her five year-old head but nonetheless, wriggled proudly in her booster seat again showing off the fact that she wore her princess panties and not a thick diaper. Thomas hunched down in his seat feeling the bloated and sopping diaper and wishing his sister would just shut up. He also wished he could do something to make it so she’d have to wear a diaper as well. However, and this was a tremendous thing for him to realise, if he did anything naughty it would end up with him being punished and he didn’t want that to happen ever again. So he sat their sulky, unhappy but more importantly, silent. # Back home and Marie wasn’t sure how she was going to tell her husband what had been discussed at school. In the meantime, she’d stripped Thomas out of his wet clothes and put him back into a thick, thick diaper. She noticed that the usual whining and none cooperation was missing and that her son now appeared to accept what was happening to him. He lifted his bottom when requested. He didn’t moan at the baby lotion being rubbed in or the powder being sprinkled, normally he’d pull a face of disgust at least but not this time. The thick soaker pad slipped into his diaper and pulled up between his legs was met with indifference and no argument. He didn’t make a fuss as it spread his legs wider and he didn’t object as the final crinkly plastic pants were inched up and hauled over the bulging fabric. Thomas was being unbelievably passive even when she plonked him back in the playpen with his little sister. There were elements of the ‘plan’ that she still thought were viable, or at least hoped they’d be, and wasn’t prepared, at home at least, to abandon everything just yet. She was pleased that Miss Martin had reported his change of attitude, which was positive, perhaps that was down to what they were doing so maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all bad. She decided to keep things as they were for the time being at home, though obviously Thomas would no longer have to wear his colourful outfit for school. In fact, the more she thought about it the more she saw this as a great opportunity to show Thomas that his improved behaviour was paying off. She would praise him for being a “good boy”, she’d let him have treats because he played nicely with his sisters and would offer small concessions - staying up later, wearing pants over his diaper, perhaps not even having to wear diapers to school… if the positive reports kept coming from his teachers. Whilst he played with Carrie, who was overjoyed at once again having her brother join her in her playpen, Marie was feeling pretty pleased with her ‘revised’ plan. Something surprising was happening with Thomas. His seven year-old mind had made a great leap forward in understanding what the word ‘consequences’ actually meant. He’d stopped arguing with his parents, had stopped resenting being put in diapers, didn’t object to having to play with his baby sister and had calmed down considerably. He had hated being the butt of jokes at school and for the first time had realised how hurtful such actions were. He hadn’t quite got the hang of not lying but thought if he didn’t say anything he couldn’t be accused of being a liar. He also realised that resenting Mary wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He still wished she had to wear diapers but as it was his problem, he wet the bed, there was no point in making thinks worse so, if she made fun of him, he’d just have to accept it. There was a knock on the front door and as Marie was in the kitchen preparing a meal it was down to Mary to answer it. Standing at the door, dressed in their soccer kit, were four of Thomas’s friends, who didn’t attend the same school as him. Mary smiled as she invited them in and directed them over to where her brother was playing dollies with his little sister. The three seven year-olds and one eight year-old stood in disbelief as they watched their main player wriggle around a playpen kitted out in a thick diaper and noisy plastic pants whilst talking baby talk with his little sister. It only took a couple of seconds for Thomas to realise he had an audience and the sudden shock and mortification ripped through his body that his mates had seen him dressed as he was. “Errm, er, Tommy, er, do you want to play…? One of the equally shocked boys timidly asked as he bounced the ball in his hand. Mary watched in some amusement as her ‘baby’ brother didn’t really know what to do or say, he just looked stunned. The older boy looked in disgust and turned to his mates. “I don’t think we need a baby on the team. C’mon guys.” He turned and led the others straight back out the door. Meanwhile, hearing voices, Marie popped her head around the door just in time to hear the damning words and see the boys troop off without Thomas. She saw how devastated he looked and was angry at Mary for inviting them in but, as she’d never told her not to let his friends in she really had to settle with a disappointed look at her daughter. Mary just looked wide-eyed and innocent but inwardly was pleased, then even happier when she saw her brother crying. The tantrum that would normally have happened as a result of such embarrassment never materialized he just threw himself down onto the soft playpen flooring and sobbed his eyes out. Carrie tried to comfort him by gently patting his bulky bottom and kissing the top of his head. “Tomee don cry.” His world had just come to an end. How would he ever get over his friends seeing him like that? It was a terrible state to be in and as he lay there, eyes misted with tears, he couldn’t stop himself from wetting his diaper, which upset him even more. Marie had seen first-hand how Thomas had changed and her heart went out to her eldest now he was in such anguish. She lifted him from the playpen and gently rocked him in her arms until the hurt had gone. Once this action would have brought protest and rages but now all he wanted was to be comforted. Whispering soothing words and tenderly stroking his padded bottom she noticed he would need changing very shortly but, for the moment that could wait. Mary was none too pleased to see mummy cuddling Thomas but, she could see the motifs on his diapers indicating just how wet he was so, that was some consolation. Whilst her older brother was being babied she decided that she would look after Carrie, once again proving what a big and helpful girl she really was. She amused her with a game of dolly dress-up but noticed that her little sister’s diapers also sagged and squelched when she moved. “Mummy Carrie’s wet as well.” The “as well” passed her mother by but the implication was there. “Would you like me to see to her… while you look after Tommy?” Mum smiled. “Thank you sweetheart that would be a great help.” So, as Marie hugged her son, the ever helpful Mary set about making sure her charge was all nice, clean and dry. This had the added effect of mummy forgetting all about her involvement in recent events. Once she had Carrie all tidied up she ‘helpfully’ brought down fresh diapers and plastic pants for her mummy, she knew Tommy would need them. To be continued #

Part 3 Thomas was very tearful but also very angry and would have taken revenge on Mary but she was on the other side of the bars so couldn’t grab her. Also his throbbing bottom made him think twice about lashing out for fear of further punishment. At least that part of the plan was getting through… but for how long? Whilst Mary watched her favourite TV programme she’d look over with a very superior and satisfied smirk on her face. From his point-of-view in the playpen he couldn’t see the screen but could hear what was going on. It was also his favourite programme so became completely frustrated as he had to play with his ‘stupid little sister’. His parents were continually walking past and encouraging him and Carrie to play with this, that or the other. There was an implied threat that he couldn’t just sit and ignore her, he had to ‘get involved’. They’d urge him to hug the stuffed animals or build some bricks with her but he didn’t want to, he was seven and had better things to do. However, the gentle crinkle as they both moved around making it clear that he was at that moment dressed as no more than a baby. He hated it but, whenever he sat down, even with the padding, his sore bum reminded him to be nice as another spanking might not be far away. With the fear of that hanging heavily over him, he eventually joined Carrie in whatever her little baby imagination could come up with. All this really meant was just hugging and ‘talking’ to her dolls and menagerie of stuffed animals, whilst making the appropriate noises. After their evening meal, which Thomas was surprised to find already cut up into small bite sized pieces but no fork or spoon, he ate like Carrie did, using fingers to feed himself. He was also surprised to find a bib was tied around his neck so, like his little sister he didn’t mess too much down his front. Carrie always made a mess but she was learning to coordinate. Thomas on the other hand should have had no problem but even he wasn’t without a few drips and drops splashed on its plastic surface. Whether he did this on purpose his parents weren’t sure but, as with the diaper, his bib proved its worth. Similarly to Carrie he’d wet whilst sitting at the table. On this occasion he’d done it on purpose as a sort of attempt to get his own back on his mother by giving her extra work. In his head he hoped that she’d get fed up of all the changing and extra mess he made and that somehow she’d change her mind and let him get back to normal. Unfortunately, as he never said a word about being wet, and his parents obvious ignoring the indicator motif until he asked to be changed, had to sit around in damp discomfort until it was time for bed. His disposable was thick and saturated, which made his plastic pants stretch and gleam, which caught the attention of Mary. She took every opportunity to pat his bottom and rub the glossy material whilst whispering how much of a baby he’d become. Thomas seethed at each quiet put down from his gloating sister and wished she had to wear the same as he did then it wouldn’t be so embarrassing. Besides, she would look better in a diaper because she was still just a big baby as far as he was concerned. However, she was happy to keep exposing her panties to her brother, showing that she was a big girl and not a nappy wearing baby like him. At that moment she had the upper hand and his sore bottom made it unwise to say or do anything that might make things worse for him. Thankfully, bedtime wasn’t long after the meal and once Carrie had been bathed and fastened into her night time diaper regime, Thomas followed. So whilst mummy got Carrie settled in her crib, daddy did the job this time. Once again Thomas was told off for not letting anyone know he was wet. Fearing being spanked again he eagerly promised his daddy that it wouldn’t happen again. “Thomas, you are wearing a diaper not only because you wet the bed…” Thomas looked guiltily up at his father as he cleaned him up. “You’re also being punished for telling lies… lies that mummy and I worry will get you into a great deal of trouble as you get older.” Daddy’s fingers rubbed in the soothing anti-rash cream. “We need you to be aware of when you do lie…” “But daddy I don’t… honest… I…” His father shushed him. “That is one of the problems, you might not realise when you are doing it. We hoped that wearing a nappy and being reminded of Pinocchio might send a message but your teachers have said you have been very naughty today… and this is just the first day of school.” “But, but, erm…” The boy wriggled awkwardly as his father lavished powder over him. “I, er, they…..erm,” It was no good. He had been badly behaved once the real reason for his outfit was known, and again he blamed his parents for making him wear it. It was all their fault… he wasn’t to blame… he was innocent. “Perhaps, what you need is something like Pinocchio’s nose, something obvious to remind you when you lie.” His father had another idea brewing at the back of his mind. “For now, you’ll be wearing a diaper all the time but you need to let us, or your teachers, know when you’re wet. Otherwise you’ll end up with a very itchy bottom that will drive you mad if you don’t quickly get changed into something dry.” He looked down at his boy and slipped his see –thru plastic pants over his well-padded disposable. “Are we clear?” He desperately wanted to tell his daddy that keeping him in a diaper was the real reason he was getting a rash but his argument fell on deaf ears. He made the sullen boy promise that he would let someone know the next time he filled his diaper. His father repeated his warning. “You’re wearing diapers from now on young man. You’re our baby boy until we say otherwise and until we see a great deal of improvement in your attitude… that is how you will stay.” “Now it’s bed time for you…” “But daddy, it’s early yet, er I won’t be able to sleep, er, Mary is still up and I’m older…” “Ssshhh, sshh shhhh.” His father put his fingers to his lips to indicate he should no longer be speaking. “Babies, and naughty boys, go to bed a lot earlier than good boys and girls.” He smiled and rubbed his son’s tummy. “I thought we’d made it perfectly clear, you go to bed when we say… and no argument” “But dad…” “Ssshhhh now, time for sleep. Do you want your teddy?” Without waiting for an answer his father placed the slightly damp stuffed animal that Carrie had been searching for the day before in bed with his son and watched contentedly as he reached out and tentatively held it. It wasn’t an act of compromise Thomas was just tired of crying, arguing, being spanked and having a terrible day in general so simply accepted the soft, fluffy toy as a source of some comfort. Even though it was relatively early he was worn out and didn’t put up any resistance as daddy stroked his head then tucked him in. Earnest turned out the light and waited a few moments to make sure he settled down. He really hoped that, as if by magic, his son would turn into the sweet considerate boy he knew Thomas really was. Well, that’s what he hoped for. He’d forgotten to tell him that there would be another test about the number of dry nights before he could go back to his proper PJs… but that could wait for another time. “Ni-night sweetheart, see you in the morning.” When Mary came to bed an hour or so later she checked in on her baby sister first, who was in her crib in her parent’s room and kissed her night-night. Carrie was the cutest and happiest of babies and Mary loved to see her little sister sucking on her pacifier in some little dream world of her own. When she went into her shared bedroom she was pleased to see her ‘baby’ brother fast asleep. Normally, he would come to bed a few minutes later than she did so this was fun for her, it really made her feel more grown up than him. His Thomas the Tank Engine cover had slipped down revealing his thick diaper and smooth plastic pants, she giggled to herself because she suddenly had an idea. Stealthily she tiptoed to the bathroom where some of Carrie’s pacifiers were being soaked in a mild hygienic solution and fished the most colourful one out of the container. Like she’d seen her mummy do many times, she rinsed it under the cold water tap and patted it dry. Chuckling all the way back to the bedroom she noticed that Thomas’s thumb was covered in saliva, as if it had just fallen from his mouth, so slowly replaced it with Carrie’s freshly sanitised paci. She grinned gleefully as her horrible, older brother intuitively began to suck; the bright yellow plastic shield covering his mouth pulsing as he unconsciously nursed. To complete the scene she made sure the teddy bear was placed in his arms. “Nighty-night baby brother.” She whispered and kissed his cheek before climbing into her own bed just a few feet away. A little later, Maria and Earnest looked in on the children to kiss them a final goodnight before retiring. Both were fast asleep but their parents smiled and emitted a couple of subdued “Awws” when they noticed Thomas and his binky. Not sure where he had got it from, but not even considering that Mary might have something to do with it; they assumed he must have hidden it in his bed earlier and turned to it for solace. He looked so adorable wearing only his night time protection and clutching a teddy, whilst the binky added perfectly to the scene. There was no doubt about it, when Thomas was fast asleep he looked like a little angel. Mary always looked like an angel, her big innocent eyes and shy girlish ways masking a very cunning mind for a five year-old. Maria couldn’t get over how sweet and babyish Thomas looked and it conjured up quite a few happy memories of only a few years earlier. She surreptitiously slid a finger under the plastic pants to check he was dry, he was. Thankful, she pulled up the loose bedding and firmly tucked in her oblivious son. He didn’t wake up, merely appearing to suck more feverishly as he settled himself back into whatever dream he was having. He seemed so content nursing, so, his parents decided, if that’s what he needed to come to terms with his current predicament, they should include a soother in his new nightly routine. # Thomas woke up wondering what the strange yellow object right next to his face was. It had been the first thing he’d noticed as his vision refocused after a very heavy night’s sleep. At that moment his mummy entered the room to wake her children and get them ready for the day ahead, Thomas off to school and Mary off to kindergarten. Maria immediately saw that her son had wet again, the clear plastic pants allowing visual confirmation by the indicator motif on his disposable. Mercifully, whatever he’d let flow was contained in the diaper and his bedding sustained no ill effects. So this part of the plan had been a success. Now she only hoped that her wayward son would see the precautions they were putting in place to stop him from wetting were practical. She also hoped her husband’s latest plans would prove equally effective. Maria hurried Mary into the bathroom before she got to work sorting Thomas out for the day ahead. Meanwhile, he noticed the pool of drool on Carrie’s paci and the damp patch on his pillow where it had been resting. He grasped that he must have been sucking it during the night and wondered why his parents had slipped it between his lips as he slept. “Mummy,” he said picking up the yellow pacifier. “Why have I got…?” His mother smiled and hugged him stopping him in mid-stream. “Yes, we don’t mind. You looked so sweet and you seemed to be enjoying sucking on it. If that’s what you…” An understanding hug followed, together with a gentle pat to his bloated diaper. He wanted to ask questions but events took over as she suggested they had breakfast first and she’d change him later once Mary was finished. He wasn’t happy going down to breakfast wearing a soaked diaper but his father was putting Carrie into her highchair and for a moment suddenly wondered if that was also to be his fate. All other thoughts and questions disappeared as he stood terrified for a decision to be made. “Morning Thomas.” His daddy smiled as he fastened Carrie in place. She gurgled and tried to repeat what her father had said. “Mowin Tomee” He tentatively sat down and found his squishy padded bottom not easy to cope with but knew he didn’t dare complain… he still bore the mental, if not the physical, signs of his spanking. Once Mary had finished washing she found that mummy had already laid out her clothes for the day - the pink princess vest and panties, her lovely pink and blue summery cotton dress and to complete the ensemble, pink ruffled socks and white sandals. She loved pink, it was her favourite colour and now she saw herself as a big girl went ahead and dressed without any help from mummy or daddy. Once finished she toddled over to Thomas’s pile of clothes and was pleased to see that resting on top of his Pinocchio outfit was a large yellow disposable and extra soaker pad, together with a pair of clear plastic pants. His mother deciding that it would be easier to spot when he wet if there was a clear view. Mary only wished she could swap the clear plastic panties for a pair of her old pink ruffled ones, thinking they’d be much nicer, but they weren’t on hand for her to even try. She decided she’d look for them later as they were bound to be in a pile of stuff they were keeping for Carrie as she got bigger. Mummy recycled all their baby stuff and Carrie was wearing some of the things that Thomas had worn when he was a baby. She grinned at the thought. However, she was pleased to know he was still being treated as a baby, whilst she was a big girl and had been able to get ready herself. She appeared at the breakfast table proud that she was dressed and prepared for kindergarten, whilst her horrible brother finished his cereal wearing a saturated diaper. Mary was congratulated for being able to take care of herself as she wriggled proudly under such praise. When her parents weren’t looking she pretended to sniff the air around Thomas and held her nose in disgust. “Who’s a stinky little baby,” she barely whispered. This of course had the desired effect and Thomas got angry and threw what was left of his breakfast at her. Luckily it missed but he was immediately taken upstairs by his furious father, all the while protesting, kicking and screaming it was all her fault. Crying he tried to tell his daddy he was innocent but they’d all seen him throw the dish and no one had seen Mary pull her face. So down came his protection and a further half dozen smacks were delivered to his red naked bottom. Despite Earnest’s reluctance to spank his son they had agreed the short, sharp, shock needed to come from both parents. This was the first time his daddy had spanked him and it hurt more than mummy had… Thomas was wailing and indignant at how unfair it all was. Again he was sore but the spanking had stopped him arguing, although he felt unjustly punished for something that Mary had done, except she had merely teased him, he threw the bowl. Not surprisingly at seven years-old he didn’t comprehend what difference that made as to why his bottom burned for the third time in a matter of a few hours. Once daddy had finished he looked at his son with a sorrowful expression. “You’ve got to learn that no longer will you get away with anything. Lying, anger or just plain disobedience will not be tolerated and as long as you carry on with that attitude… your little bottom will remain bright red.” He held the weeping boy close and stroked his sore bottom, he could feel the warmth. “I’m sorry son but you need to learn, and learn quickly, that you cannot do, or say, or act just as you please.” Inwardly, Earnest wasn’t sure about this method of chastising his son and, like his wife, hoped that in future the threat would be enough. They had carried out their plan, although spanking was completely alien to them and regretted administering it almost as soon as it was done. Daddy led him into the bathroom where he washed Thomas down and wiped away the tears. Back in the bedroom, as his wife had already laid out what he should wear Earnest began the task of readying his son for his second day of term. The subdued boy barely acknowledged the operation as his father fastened him into his diaper and pulled up the clear plastic pants. He hardly noticed that the disposable now had a thick soaker pad added. Daddy flattened them down making sure that everything was completely contained by the crinkly plastic. However, there was no getting away from the fact that these were bulkier than yesterday’s protection and filled his shorts out more. This was part of the ‘added’ plan Earnest had thought about to make Thomas more aware of his actions. He’d disliked spanking his boy but wondered if another reminder might prove effective. His diaper would get bigger (more soak pads added) if his teacher’s daily report was not one of improved behaviour. Thomas really didn’t want to be dressed as Pinocchio again and pleaded with his daddy not to make him but his protest was ignored. Meanwhile, his little red shorts now showed a distinct puffier profile and found his normal way of walking strangely awkward, he had a slight waddle. He complained to his mummy as she dropped Mary off at kindergarten that he was uncomfortable but she just said he’d get used to it as the day progressed. It was a wonderful warm day and as Mary climbed out of the car to be greeted by her friends, she couldn’t help but grin back at her despondent looking brother… after all… she was a big girl and he was a shuffling little baby. She was going to have a fantastic day playing with all her pals but then she had another thought. She wished that all his mates on the estate could see him wearing a nappy. In fact, she wanted all her friends to witness it as well and wondered how she could make that happen. She knew if she just tried to embarrass Thomas her mummy and daddy would not be pleased. She had to make it seem like it happened by accident. To be continued *

Part 3 The conversation carried on for quite some time. Jenny in her diapers being very grown up and making the suave, sophisticated, mature Mr Henderson justify his personal stance. It wasn’t that Jenny didn’t understand, if anything, she wanted to understand better, and, and this was the bit she couldn’t quite get her head round, she rather liked Mr Henderson, but why? When he left there was a healthy offer to buy the property, a timescale he wanted to work to and perhaps, not surprisingly a safe place for Jenny to live the lifestyle she might prefer. Daddy Henderson (for that was what he would be called) had been most clear he would love to have her as part of his toddler group. Every need she had would be met - he guaranteed no worries, no responsibilities and definitely, no sex. Her life wouldn’t be entirely her own, in fact Daddy insisted that all decisions were his; what they wore, what they ate, where they went and how they all interacted. He was adamant that his way worked as it was already doing so with the four other babies who called him Daddy. Jenny spent the next few days examining her own position. The nursery, although successful, had failed. In ways, she really didn’t want to admit, it was relief not to have the responsibility. However, she missed her little diapered group often wondering what each member was now up to; would they be happily enjoying themselves? Would their new carers be giving them the love and support she’d been able to offer? Would their sweet little tushes be given the loving and appreciative pats as they played? Would they be allowed to be kids and not forced to grow up too quickly? The worry she was giving herself was getting too much. She slipped almost unwittingly into baby mode, desperately wanting someone else to take on this gigantic responsibility. The diapers and other babywear she found comfort in only partially succeeding in doing their job. With all this anxiety she wet herself. She hadn’t realised just how much or how long she’d been holding it in but for a moment her self-control evaporated. The warming flood filled her diaper, whilst uncontainable tears fell from her eyes. She curled up on the floor hugging herself; the wet diaper cooling as her mind slipped from being an adult to being a dependent baby. Was this really something she was prepared to give up on? She fell asleep for a few minutes but when she gained consciousness realised she had wet once again. The warm glow in her diaper reminding her of the decision she needed to make. This was a sign. Jenny was at her wits end. Her state of mind was on the edge and Mr Henderson’s time frame was also rapidly coming to an end so knew she had to make some kind of choice. She put in the call. Within the hour Mr Henderson was at the nursery. He explained to Jenny his plans for change, which included adult versions of cribs, changing tables, play areas, toys, stuffed animals, diapers, clothing, in fact most of what he needed was already in transit. Once everything was ready and to his satisfaction he’d move his ‘babies’ the big question now that remained was… did Jenny want to be a part of it all? “I know this is a wrench for you but…” his soothing words fell on anxious ears, “it could be the start of a whole new life.” Jenny wriggled awkwardly inside the thick diaper she wore under her pretty floral dress. Externally, to anyone who didn’t know, she looked like a fresh-faced, novice school teacher negotiating the sale of a building but underneath, she was quaking self-consciously because of the enormity of her next move. “It would be a privilege if you would join us,” Mr Henderson offered his hand. “I think we’d all make such a happy and contented little team. No more worries…” he raised his eyebrows and smiled, “now wouldn’t that be something?” Jenny had made her decision and took hold of Mr Henderson’s hand. “Yes.” Jenny sighed. Mr Henderson hugged her close, patted and stroked her padded bottom and sighed himself. “Yes what my little angel?” “Yes… Daddy.” ******************the end*********************

Part 2 Thomas couldn’t believe that this was the new school uniform because as far as he knew, they didn’t have a uniform until he was at big boy school. He arrived in class, padded and feeling strange in his new outfit but was greeted with smiles from the teachers and giggles from the pupils. His colourful clothes, although quite flamboyant for school were different to the rest of the class. He’d already checked that nothing could be seen dangling below his shorts so was pleased that his protected bottom wasn’t all that obvious even though it felt hot and well-contained surrounded in plastic. The well-planned first lesson of the day was the story of Pinocchio and how the puppet’s lying got him into so much trouble. The pictures in the book that were held up for the class to see were exactly like the clothes Thomas was wearing and the giggling and pointing got louder and more personal. The teachers were in on this project and, although there had been some murmurs of dissent about the method, it was thought it might be worth a trial at least. Would Thomas change, like Pinocchio, once he saw the results of telling fibs? At first Thomas thought as he was dressed like the lead character in the story then he must have been chosen to play the starring role. So, to begin with, he felt very proud at being singled out for such a prestigious part that his mummy and daddy had kept as a surprise, even forgetting about his special padding for a while. However, this feeling of some kind of celebrity status soon passed as the real meaning of the story became clear. Little voices whispered “Pinocchio” as he passed by. Some didn’t whisper they shouted it across the room “Little Liar”, whilst inspecting a story book character that had come to life in their classroom; they touched his clothes and laughed at his big bow. They thought Thomas was ideally cast as carpenter Geppetto’s wooden little boy who wouldn’t stop lying. They all knew Tommy was a constant liar himself. Although slightly inhibited by all this attention, at lunch break it didn’t stop him sneakily helping himself to another classmate’s sandwich leaving the boy crying and hungry. Of course he denied he’d done anything and thought, as he’d eaten the evidence, there was no proof. Alas, the teachers were keeping a close eye on him and witnessed the event. They’d given him a chance to admit what he’d done and apologise to his victim but, as usual, Thomas acted the innocent. The injured party was most disappointed that ‘Pinocchio’s’ nose hadn’t grown as a result of the lie. Because he was embarrassed about actually wearing protection, Thomas never asked to be changed even though by the mid-break he was wet. He’d had no option. His mummy had taped him in so firmly and the plastic pants hugged him so tightly he had no idea how to unfasten and then refasten himself in. By the time he’d made it to the boy’s room he was so desperate it just flooded out. At first he was annoyed that he’d done such a thing and anxious that others might know but, as there were no tell-tale signs he stopped worrying. No one could see what had happened and that made him feel pretty pleased - he’d gotten away with something else. Although the teachers had been given permission by his mother to change him when he asked for a fresh diaper, they had decided that they would let him stay soaked until he requested some attention. They weren’t being cruel, well, actually they were being a little cruel, but as they wanted Thomas to own up to things this seemed a good place to start. This action would only affect Thomas as only he would be uncomfortable if he had to sit in a sopping diaper for any length of time. However, in Thomas’s mind, no one actually knew he was wearing a diaper because no one had commented on his slightly padded bottom, perhaps thinking it was all part of the Pinocchio suit. Although quite dumpy, his little red shorts were loose enough not to emphasise the padding underneath. Besides that, he thought that if he said anything, people would know and he’d be mortified if any of his classmates found out he had to wear protection, he’d be the centre of ridicule. He hoped this was just a one day thing and didn’t want to draw attention to his slightly rustling cushioned bottom. He didn’t notice that with every toilet break in his diaper (and throughout the day there had been a few) it expanded a little. Thankfully, even though his diaper was waterlogged the plastic pants had prevented any leaking. However, he had to admit that sitting all day in a soaked and re-soaked diaper was not nice at all and couldn’t wait for the school day to end when he could change into his normal clothes. # A word in his mother’s ear from a couple of the teachers when she came to collect him at home time meant that young Thomas was not going to escape his special uniform so easily. Firstly she wanted to know what he’d thought about his new school uniform. He hadn’t know why he was the only one dressed as a character from a book but said he wanted his proper clothes back. “Well,” his mother smiled at him, “the teachers say your outfit seems to have been very popular with your classmates… they’re all talking about how much it suits you.” “But mummy, I feel silly… I’ll be glad to get back to my normal…” “Well, before that…” she interrupted, “are you wet?” Thomas looked nervously around hoping that no one heard what she said. “Mummmeeee” “Your teachers say you never asked to be changed so… are you wet?” Thomas looked down at his brown shoes; his pale naked legs trembled slightly because he didn’t want to admit anything in public. As he seemed reluctant to reply she bent down and slowly pushed her hand up the leg of his loose red shorts, past the soft plastic and could instantly feel just how soaked he was. “Oh Thomas, you’ll be getting a rash if you sit around in a diaper this wet…” Thomas had gone quiet and sullen wishing his mother wouldn’t make such a big fuss about it. However, she caught the attention of a nearby teacher and asked her if in future she’d check him regularly and, if she or the school would be so kind, to change him when needed. The teacher, Miss Martin, agreed telling her that all her son had to do was ask. His mother explained, with a tone that said “He’s at that age”, he was too embarrassed about his wetting problem, which now meant he had to wear protection all the time. She organised with Miss Martin a supply of disposables, making sure Thomas had plenty in his school backpack. She also promised to bring plastic pants and soaker pads the following morning… “To cover any eventualities.” She said smiling at the equally amused but understanding teacher. “No problem Mrs Turner, Thomas’s and all the children’s welfare is our main priority. Do his disposables have a wetness indicator on them?” “Oh yes,” Mrs Turner quickly responded, “a pattern appears when wet.” The fact that his mother hadn’t lowered her voice as she said all this made him blush bright red as one or two of his classmates were still hanging around waiting for their parents. To show the teacher exactly what she meant she lifted the leg of his shorts to expose the plastic pants and to demonstrate how the blue indicator had appeared. Unfortunately, his yellow vinyl protection didn’t show her point off very well so, pulled the soft plastic down to reveal the full (and now obviously sodden) disposable underneath. Thomas was stunned at his mother’s action and tried to pull away but she held tightly onto him as she continued to explain things to his teacher. One of the boys, Anthony, smiled and whilst Thomas’s back was turned went up behind him and squeezed his cushioned bottom. Thomas spun around totally embarrassed and dying to say something but his mother just pulled him away as they set off home. Meanwhile, a grinning Anthony giggled at the soft squishy lagging he’d just gripped. It was what his baby brother felt like and he was only eighteen months old. # Once home Thomas was desperate to remove his embarrassing uniform and return to his regular clothes. He also wanted to get out of his wet diaper and into something drier so immediately rushed up to his room to change. His mother followed but before he had chance to remove anything she said that she would do it. “But mum, I’m not a baby, I can do it myself.” “That’s not true Thomas. As far as anyone in this house is concerned that is just what you are… a baby who wets himself and then doesn’t let anyone know. So, you’ll be treated exactly the way we treat Carrie.” “But mum…” A tantrum was brewing but she would have none of it. “You’re wearing a soaked diaper, you wet the bed at night… you are exactly like Carrie. We will be treating you as we do her until we are sure you have changed your ways. It will be up to you.” Maria and Earnest had read somewhere that they needed to be direct and consistent in their actions if they wanted them to have any effect on the wayward child. They decided that a united course of action was better than one parent doing something, whilst the other tried something else. The other thing was, not to be swayed by tantrums and any feelings of remorse for what they were doing. Determined and consistent – that was to be their motto. The tantrum failed to materialise because she didn’t wait for a response but simply got straight down to stripping her obstinate soaked son. As she removed his Pinocchio outfit he resentfully told her he didn’t want to wear it again because he felt silly when no other class mates wore anything like it. Finally, she removed his soaked disposable and could see he was already beginning to get the start of a diaper rash. However, before she saw to that she put him over her knee and delivered half a dozen spanks to his naked bottom. This was the part she wasn’t looking forward to but, it was part of their plan – the short, sharp, shock bit of their plan, so simply got on with it. “You stole another boy’s lunch.” SMACK “And failed to admit what you’d done.” SMACK “You told lies to your teacher.” SMACK “You made a little girl cry.” SMACK “You didn’t tell your teachers you were wet.” She delivered another SMACK “From now on any naughtiness; lying or simply being nasty to anyone will be dealt with immediately.” SMACK “Have I made myself perfectly clear?” She’d delivered the punishment in a very calm way. She didn’t appear all that angry only pursuing a course of action that was expected as a result of his day’s naughty activities. A startled and fearful Thomas couldn’t respond because of his tears. His mother continued looking directly into her sobbing son’s eyes. “Because you didn’t let the teachers know when you were wet you now have the beginnings of a diaper rash.” She was less scary now but still determined to make sure her little boy understood the rules. “Spanking is going to be a regular occurrence every time you are a naughty boy.” She hugged her son, much to Thomas’s bewilderment. She sincerely hoped that the threat would be sufficient; she didn’t want to have to ever spank him again. “Every time you tell a lie now people will notice and you will be punished… and nobody likes a little boy who lies all the time” The reference to Pinocchio’s problem with telling the truth didn’t sink in as he was bawling at the injustice of being spanked for what he saw as no reason. It was they who had put him in diapers and made it difficult to get to the boys room in time so he’d had to use them. He wasn’t to blame. The problem he had was that the teachers now reported even the slightest infringement to the smooth running of the class and how Thomas behaved with other children. So, despite his silly uniform, he’d still stolen from, and been nasty to, other children and lied to teachers about several things that day. Once his mother had finished chastising her son, she spread anti-rash cream and powder over the inflamed area. Before he had chance to complain or throw another tantrum she had him quickly taped into a disposable and slid into a pair of see-thru plastic pants like Carrie wore. He was one very unhappy boy, which was further compounded when his mummy slipped a little t-shirt over his head and picked him up to carry him downstairs like she’d done when he was a toddler “Mummy I need some pants.” His arms were outstretched, beseeching a return to his closet to retrieve something to put over his padded bottom. Alas his mother took no notice and carried him into the living room where Carrie was already occupying herself in the playpen. Maria pulled the weepy little Thomas away from her shoulder and dumped him in with his baby sister. This was an ad-libbed piece of the ‘plan’ and Maria wasn’t sure if it would work or even if it was appropriate. “Now, you and Carrie play together and I don’t want any more tears… and Thomas… you are on your best behaviour… unless of course you’re looking for another spanking. Do I make myself clear?” Carrie was looking surprised that her older brother was coming to play with her and smiled and garbled in absolute delight. The fact that they were more or less dressed the same didn’t register but she offered him one of her toys as he grumpily sat down amid a great deal of crinkling. “Thomas… do I make myself clear?” Thomas was very displeased at this situation and knocked away the toy being offered by Carrie. “Right.” His mother was annoyed with this act of petulance which needed instant action. Up until then she had kept an even temper but this nasty little act against his loving baby sister really made her mad. Also, as she’d given him fair warning about what would happen, she needed to put an immediate stop to such behaviour. She yanked him out of the playpen, pulled down his plastic pants and diaper and delivered a firm hand to his already red little bottom. “I told you only a few moments ago that any naughtiness and you would be spanked. It appears that you want to be spanked.” Carrie was surprised at the sudden retrieval of her new playmate and his resulting spanking, whilst the deed was witnessed by Mary who watched with some delight as her brother’s bottom was reddened. The apology came too late as his botty was thoroughly heated up for the second time in just a few minutes. This time his mother applied her hand a little more forcefully than she had previously. Thomas had never experienced such penalties to his actions and his sore bottom was a reminder of what he’d done. Mary on the other hand was relishing the fact that her brother was being brought to book for his actions. She only wished he had been similarly penalised for all the nastiness he’d inflicted on her throughout her young life. Once he was re-diapered and placed back in the playpen his red eyes and tear streaked face made for a very unhappy and reluctant playmate. However he realised his actions were being monitored by Mary and knew she’d take great delight in telling mummy if he’d been naughty. Reluctantly he played a rather distracted game with his baby sister. He was right; Mary couldn’t wait to drop him in it. Over the years she’d had to put up with all kinds of meanness from her older brother but now, she held the upper hand. She liked the fact that he was suitably dressed as a baby, wearing just a diaper and plastic pants and taunted him with rattles and other baby toys as she joined in their play. Except, she was a big girl so didn’t have to be inside the playpen. “That’s only for little babies.” She triumphantly whispered in Thomas’s ear and tossed him one of Carrie’s old teething rings. To be continued **

Part 2 Mr Henderson was an ABDL fan. He didn’t dress as an adult baby, nor did he wear a diaper but he loved those who did. He’d been pointed in Jenny’s direction by a person who knew about her love of diapers and thought that they might have some kind of mutual understanding. He was surprised on that first visit to find the very person he’d been told about looking like a small, distressed child wearing an ultra-thick diaper and whose pink frilly plastic pants ballooned out around her. His heart was instantly grabbed as his sudden appearance had caused Jenny, in her deepest depression, to burst into tears. This was a side she never showed to others but on this occasion, this nice looking, 50 year-old man, with soothing words and a comforting hug, was all she needed to let her feelings go. She didn’t know why but she felt the compassion in this man’s embrace. She wailed her pain and disappointment into his shoulder as he consoled her like the baby she’d become. All the responsibility of her job, the loss, the hurt, the sheer emotion of no longer being able to take care of ‘her’ children was all too much. Mr Henderson hugged her, rubbed her back, patted her diapered bottom and generally calmed Jenny in a gentle, relaxing rocking motion that made her doze peacefully wrapped in his arms. As she came round Mr Henderson was still swaying tenderly letting her find her own way from unconsciousness. She was aware that it was still a stranger who held her and was slightly embarrassed that she’d found comfort and understanding from such a man. She didn’t know what to say, although she liked the attention and really didn’t want it to stop; she thought that at least she should introduce herself and get his name. Their eyes met and just as she was about to speak he got in first. “Hello sweet child.” His words were smooth and placating. “My name is Henry Henderson,” he paused for a moment picking the right moment, “but you can call me Daddy, if you want.” Her mind raced to see if she remembered the name for any reason but the ‘Daddy’ bit was a surprise, she gulped. “Don’t say anything just yet,” he said soothingly as he continued to rock her and pat her plastic covered bottom, “I’m here because I’m looking for a place of my own.” He looked around at the brightly painted walls, the cartoon characters, the stencilled words of encouragement and the wonderfully illustrated scenes that covered nearly every surface. “This place is just perfect.” He hugged her tightly. Jenny was about to speak but he gently shushed her. “Let me finish little one.” He smiled and helped her put her thumb back into her mouth. “I need a place for my babies. A place equipped to accommodate their innocence and playfulness… and one where I’m sure they’d all be happy.” He held Jenny a little way from his body, took in a long look and smiled. “My babies are like you Little Jenny, girls, women, people who like to live a certain way.” He looked at her to see if she understood what was being said and continued. “My babies don’t want any responsibilities; they just want loads of love and affection and the lifestyle they have chosen.” He stroked Jenny’s plastic pants a bit firmer smoothing out the contours of her thick diaper and despite trying not to show it, a shiver ran through his touch. It wasn’t from Jenny; it was Mr Henderson revealing his true intent. “I know quite a bit about you sweet Jenny. I know how you tried to make this place work for children. I know of your personal needs… “ Jenny removed her thumb and was about to speak but Mr Henderson raised his eyebrows and gently shook his head. “I’m trying not to be weird,” he said as a huge smile returned to his face, “although I’ll grant you that did sound a bit much. What I’m trying to say is for that reason I sought you out as I understand, I appreciate and I’d like to help but in a different direction.” Jenny pulled away from this older man’s gentle caress and eyed him with slight suspicion. “What do you mean ‘my personal needs’?” She shrugged as if it was something she didn’t know to what he was referring. “The nursery is my…” “Please don’t get me wrong,” he interrupted, “I’m not trying to embarrass you but I know you have a liking for diapers and such things…” He shrugged himself, “I myself like those things as well but only on others, my babies, my girls who I dearly love.” Jenny knew such people existed but surprisingly had never met one before. “OK, but what do you want from me?” She was back to being Jenny the comforter now not the one who needed comforting. “I’d like to buy your building… it’s almost exactly what I’ve been searching for… and, with a few improvements I can see it working very well.” “You want to open a crèche… a nursery… for adult babies. Is that what you are telling me?” She asked a little sceptically. “Basically, yes.” He nodded now he knew she understood what it was he wanted. “Of course it would be private, just a place for me and my girls to live the way we want. I look after them, much as you did with your children and in return I get immense satisfaction seeing them run around and playing dressed in their…” he looked her up and down, “chosen clothing.” “You get turned on watching girls dressed in diapers and being babied?” “Yes,” he shrugged as if it was the most natural thing in the world, “my girls have come to me to be looked after. They like what I offer and…” “Do you have sex with them?” Jenny asked in an uncompromising fashion. It was a question he’d partly expected but somehow hadn’t expected it to be so direct. “Sorry but no.” He tried to find the words. “It does turn me on. I like to see my babies crawling around and the thicker the diaper, the shinier the pants, the sweeter the look, the cuter they appear… well… yes I get turned on but I don’t want to harm them. I don’t want to abuse them or for them to have to experience… er… often the very thing that brought them to this point in the first place… to GROW UP.” Jenny was surprised at such candour and emotion. He turned his back and spread out his hands as if speaking to the entire room of cartoon characters. “This is what they want. They want to regress and have fun. They want anything but to do those things that drive most people mad, angry or violent. They want a safe place, with a safe person…” He looked back at Jenny, “The very thing you supplied to your children, I want for mine.” *tbc*

Little Liar Part 1 Seven year-old Thomas Sebastian Turner thought he could get away with anything. He was the eldest child of Maria and Earnest Turner and brother to five year-old Mary and two year-old Carrie. From kindergarten onwards Thomas managed to successfully blame anyone and everyone else for his offences. Any mistake he made, item broken or tearful friend, he was always innocent, it had nothing to do with him. He would lie and lie until he convinced himself it was true. Even when caught out with his fibbing, still insisted he was telling the truth. His parents wondered if he knew what truth was. The family lived in a pleasant, inexpensive neighbourhood, in the Mid-west. Earnest worked as the finance director (accountant) for a group of local businesses, whilst Maria was a busy housewife, but had been a talented young seamstress before she married. They got by but there was never loads of spare cash, although they never went into debt either. Life, like the neighbourhood, was pleasant – they made no claims to being the cleverest people in the world, or to knowing anything about politics – The Turners, like the majority of locals, just got on with life as best they could. However, they had been on the net, discussed it with friends and neighbours, read articles in an effort to find a solution to Thomas’s ‘problem’. However, from all the conflicting advice they cobbled together a plan of their own to make their young son understand how his lying affected others and, more importantly, how it was going to affect him. # He’d woken up to a sunny morning as his mother gently shook him from a deep sleep where he’d dreamed he was playing with some of the colourful stars from his favourite TV show. Whilst he rubbed his eyes, she pulled back the covers, noticing as she did so the damp bedding and soaked jammy bottoms. Recently he’d begun to wet more often, not nightly but frequently enough that stricter action needed to be taken. Mary, his sister who he shared the bedroom with, had been potty trained for over a year and had not needed any night time protection since then. His baby sister Carrie was still in diapers day and night so for the eldest of the brood to still wet the bed was becoming a bit of a predicament. However, up until this point his loving parents had been understanding and just put up with the inconvenience because Thomas’s attitude was – it’s just a ‘bedtime accident’, which, ever since he was a toddler was what he’d called such occasional incidents. It was something he couldn’t lie about because it was there for all to see. None-the-less he thought of it as something that just happened naturally so therefore was nothing to do with him. These days he took no responsibility for getting to the bathroom at night. Mr and Mrs Turner had let him get away with it for far too long. They didn’t like confronting or even arguing with their children, in particular their independently minded son, so took the easy option. They came from a long line of very liberal parents who had decided that - a child needed to be given space, needed to find him or herself in their own time and on no account must they be challenged on that route to personal discovery. For Maria and Earnest that was now all a load of bunkum. So, from this day on his parents decided his and their own particular mind-set was no longer going to be appropriate. Young Thomas’s actions and bullying towards his younger sisters and others had been a belated ‘call-to-arms’ that they were about to respond to in a dramatic manner. Thankfully, the wet bed and soaked PJs gave them the perfect opportunity for putting their newly developed plan into action. Things were going to change for their damp little boy and change immediately. The plan had a few elements to it, and to be honest, neither parent was sure if any of them would work. However, they were desperate and hoped to get some response to their ideas. They were quite prepared for the tears, tantrums and drama that no doubt was about to follow. Adding to his mother’s determination about what was to happen was the fact that she noticed a teddy bear peeping out from under the clammy bedsheets. The very cuddly toy his two year-old sister had been crying for the night before because she couldn’t sleep without it. Thomas had sworn he knew nothing about its disappearance yet here it was now wet and as large as life. When his mother asked about it he still pleaded innocent to how it got into his bed, saying Carrie must have put it there. The sweet ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ look he gave her for a second put her off guard but the resolve returned and she knew he needed to learn not to lie. Thinking he’d fooled her, and that was the end of the inquisition, he quickly made his way to the bathroom to get cleaned up and ready for school. # It was the first day of a new term and Thomas was quite excited at seeing all his school friends again but his mother had been planning a surprise for when he wondered back to his bedroom still towelling off. As he returned he noticed that she had stripped the bed and a clear plastic sheet had been put over the mattress. Lying on top of that was a pile of items he couldn’t quite make out but to him looked very suspicious. One of Maria’s great joys was to make clothes for her children, which were often admired when they went out as a family. However, recently she had been busy designing and making a special new school uniform for her boy. She’d spent a few hours once the kids were asleep working away at this secret project, which she knew would be a surprise to Thomas. “We’re going to start this school term differently.” She said to her son as he hesitantly dried his thick brown hair, eyes focusing warily on why his mother should be there. He was a big boy and didn’t need her to dress him. “There’s a new uniform for you to wear but firstly, because you’ve been wetting the bed far too often recently, you’ll be wearing protection for the foreseeable future.” That information brought her carefree son to a sudden halt. He wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly or what it meant except, there was something about him having to wear ‘protection’ from now on. He noticed the folded disposable, the plastic pants and the baby powder lying on top of the pile of clothing and suddenly realised what exactly that did mean. He definitely wasn’t going to be doing that. “Mummy, I’m not Carrie, I can’t wear a diaper to bed… I’m not a...” his tears and anger came, “BABY” He screamed the final word and stomped off but his mother grabbed him and pulled him back towards the bed. “No sweetheart, you’ll not be wearing a diaper for bed.” She thought this might calm him down enough for her to deliver the sting in her plan. “You’ll be wearing one both night and day from now on.” She smoothed out the crinkly, plastic sheet covering the mattress and smiled at him. “We’ll make it thicker at night so…. if you use it… no harm will be done to your bedding.” # The tantrum and waterworks started immediately. He struggled out from his mother’s grip and stomped around his bedroom screeching at his mother that he shouldn’t (and wouldn’t) wear diapers at his age. This made Mary pay attention. She was used to tantrums and her brother getting his own way but this time mummy’s reactions were different, she spoke to him differently. ‘It wasn’t fair.’ ‘It wasn’t right’. ‘Only babies like Carrie wear diapers … he’d never wear them’. Thomas shouted and protested. As part of their (it had to be said), muddled plan, Thomas’s parents had hoped that by putting him back in a diaper full time would be a reminder that he’d been doing something he shouldn’t – bed-wetting. They hoped that by sporting a thick, babyish garment all day would make him think twice about his actions. They were also desperate for a quick turnaround to their son’s casual, disruptive ways. They worried that should it continue, in later life he might think his attitude was acceptable and find himself in a great deal of trouble. They had to do something now. He was very forceful in his childish arguments but for the first time his normally compliant parents had said “NO” and he’d met an implacable barrier to his normally indulged self. His father came in to the room and told his son to stop all the nonsense and behave. Hoping it was just his mother wanting to put him in diapers he ran and hugged his daddy, claiming his mummy was being unfair. He was a big boy and didn’t need to wear such babyish things. “OK Tommy, did you wet the bed?” His daddy asked as his son tried his best, ‘innocent little boy’ look. Thomas was none too happy admitting to anything but also knew it was something he couldn’t deny. However, he didn’t see Mary looking on so, albeit reluctantly, nodded to his daddy’s question. “Well, what do we do with Carrie when she wets?” Over the years Thomas had seen both his sisters being changed, so diapers, disposables, plastic pants, baby stuff had always been a huge part of the things lying around their home, but this was different. “But daddy,” he snivelled, “I don’t wet in the day… just… sometimes at night.” “Yes that’s true… and we’ve let it go but… you seem to be getting worse and we need you to be aware of the consequences and a diaper will be a constant reminder.” His daddy continued and hoped his son would see this as positive, even though in his own mind he wasn’t really convinced. This plan of theirs was a very piecemeal affair – it took from a host of different opinions, some more reputable than others, and they weren’t sure if any of it would really work. However, they had made the decision to act, so that was what they were doing, and hopefully they’d muddle through to some kind of success. Thomas wasn’t sure what consequences meant but it didn’t sound like daddy had much sympathy so that angered and frustrated him. “The good thing for you is, well, whilst you’re wearing a diaper, er, erm, you’ll get to use it, so, officially, no more accidents because you’ll have all the protection needed.” Earnest was really out of his depth but hoped that something, anything might work and he wanted to be positive and give this course of action a chance. The outburst followed but Mary witnessed something she’d never ever seen in their home before. Fury seethed within Thomas but a quick smack from his mother to his naked little bottom made him stop. This was another part of their plan - a short, sharp shock. They thought that a smack to his bottom might be another thing that would make him re-think his attitude and hoped that he’d be so stunned, the result would be instant. However, neither parent liked the idea of such a punishment and hoped the shock element would be the deciding factor rather than resorting to spanking their son on a regular basis. # Thomas had never ever been spanked before and was stunned. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. It didn’t particularly hurt but there was something in the delivery that meant things had changed and the only way he knew how to deal with that was by crying. He hoped his wailing would gain him some consideration, some sympathy. He wanted them to feel bad about smacking him but it didn’t work. His mother just carried on with hardly any break in the proceedings. Mary watched stunned as her older brother was reduced to a naked bawling baby and in truth trembled hoping that it wouldn’t happen to her. Although, at the same time, silently happy to see her unpleasant brother get his just deserts. This was an awful lot for the seven year-old to take in but with both his parents joining forces and acting as one there was little alternative. Thomas’s uncooperative wriggling and kicking was no match to stop his mother from powdering her boy and taping him into his first disposable diaper in over four years. The incensed wail and stubborn wriggle was being ignored and forcefully subdued. Even his mother’s gentle hand smoothing in creams and powder had been no consolation to the shame of being forced into a diaper at his age. It wasn’t easy but once it was done he did look a lot younger than his seven years. Perhaps, Maria hoped (and there was an awful lot of hope going on in their plan), this alone would make him behave. His young mind couldn’t cope with what was happening but even he could see the silliness of what they were doing. They wanted him to be more grown-up but they put him a disposable and expected him to use it. Why? It was different at night, he didn’t know he was wetting the bed but during the day, he had no trouble making it to the boy’s room. The disposable was a bright yellow colourful affair with blue cartoon character markers that appeared when the item was wet. So, whilst he lay sobbing his mother took advantage of his wriggling hips, which helped slip up a pair of matching slick yellow vinyl pants, she wanted to make sure he was completely waterproof. The thing was, seeing her son like this Maria caught a glimpse of her sweet innocent little baby and not the unholy terror he’d become. His ineffective stamping about and forced crying for some hoped for loving attention would normally have brought out her mothering ways and engulfed him in hugs and kisses. She knew she’d have to see this plan through or at least give it a chance if there was any hope of getting him to at least try to alter his ways. Tommy was terrified of going to school in such protection and protested throughout the entire procedure. He was mortified that he was now wearing such padding and looked like a taller version of Carrie. However, it wasn’t quite as bulky as his baby sister’s, although far more cumbersome than the Thomas the Tank Engine briefs he normally wore. His verbal and emotional protests were ignored by mummy as she simply made sure everything fitted him well. She thought he looked wonderful standing, albeit reluctantly, in front of her dressed as he was. It brought back happy memories of when Thomas was less trouble, more compliant and much easier to take care of. Indeed, Maria was a mother who loved and indulged her children. In years gone by she would have been dubbed an airhead or hippy but she wasn’t really. She adored having babies and wanted nothing more than to love and be loved by her three youngsters. Meanwhile, Mary popped her head round the door and saw her older, tear-streaked brother, being hugged by mummy, wearing babyish plastic pants and smiled. “Tommy looks like Carrie.” She smirked as her words had the desired effect and his face once again creased in total misery. This set him off even more hating her, hating his mother, hating his father … but his parents had further surprises in store for their little liar. Although he looked pretty cute standing there in just his protection mummy fed his arms into his new school uniform; a yellow shirt, loose red shorts with suspenders, a big blue bow and brown shoes. Where this idea had sprung from Maria wasn’t sure but at some point, when they were discussing Thomas’s lying, a reference had been made to a particularly famous childish liar and from that seed had grown into this part of the plan. To be continued… *

I remember one Christmas Eve I'd gone to bed but was just too excited to sleep. I was 5 Years old my bedroom was small and at the rear of the house overlooking the back garden and it was a wonderfully clear night. I could see the stars twinkling but I was just too excited and wriggled around in my nappy and plastic pants (I too was a bedwetter until much later) but just couldn't get to sleep. I remembered mummy and daddy saying that if I didn't go to sleep then Santa wouldn't come because I was being a naughty little boy so I was desperate to fall asleep. And then I saw Santa. Well, perhaps not Santa but his sleigh because high up in the clear night sky I could see a twinkling red light, which I knew meant Santa was on his way... and horror of horrors I wasn't sleep. So I scrunched my eyes tightly shut and suddenly felt my nappy fill as I wet myself... the warmth relaxing me under the heavy winter blankets and that was the last thing I remember until morning. Thankfully, when I toddled downstairs at 6am my ruse must have worked because I had tons of pressies to open. Which I did sat in a wet and saggy nappy but I couldn't have been happier at that moment. It wasn't until I was much older that my brother told me that the flashing light was a passing plane... up until he told me I still thought I'd seen Santa's Sleigh.

Jenny’s Story Part 1 Jenny was a sweet baby; pretty, placid and absolutely gorgeous. That wasn’t just the opinion of her doting parents; everyone who ever met her immediately thought she should be advertising some baby product or other. Whether she was dressed to impress in her trendy baby clothes or merely crawling around in her diaper, people would stop and comment on just how cute she was. Her joyous smile made everyone cheerful; everyone being cheery seemed to make her smile all the more. Jenny was a magnet for well-being and happiness. As she grew up her sweet demeanour made her a favourite play-mate, she was fun and always happy to join in. ‘Mommies and Daddies’ was her favourite game and often, because she was so easy going, nearly always ended up playing baby. She didn’t mind, all her life she’d been used to people making a fuss around her so when her friends wanted to do the same, she simply complied – it was just a game after all. Her little chums took great delight in dressing up their ‘baby daughter’. All the way through her junior years they would pretend that some piece of material, or pretty fabric would make an eye-catching new garment. Of course it was all make believe so often the dress or blouse was terrible and ill-fitting but it didn’t stop the girls using Jenny as their baby model. Jenny didn’t mind either as long as they had done one thing correctly; she liked to be put in a diaper first. As soon as they started playing she would shuffle out of her panties and her friends, who had become very adept at the game and privy to Jenny’s penchant for protection, would have brought disposables, sibling’s diapers and an array of plastic pants to get the baby fashion show underway. Jenny loved all the preparation; the wet-wipes, the lotion, the powder and then the actual fitting everything tightly into place. She would lay there and giggle, make baby noises or, if someone had thought ahead, suck happily on a bottle or pacifier. Over the years she was able to collect quite a few items, which she treasured and kept safely stored away in her childhood memory box. It contained a few of her toys, some of her baby things and loads of her childhood clothes. It was a place her mother knew about and thought how sweet it was that her beautiful daughter should want to keep all those things in her bedroom, maybe even passing them on to her children. Of course her parents had potty-trained their gorgeous daughter fairly early on and dressed her to reflect the affluence their position demanded but they had no knowledge of her preference for being treated as a baby. In fact, when her friends came to her home Jenny always found a different game to play so, ‘Mommies and Daddies’, ‘Fashion Baby’ or any variant where a baby was involved was never allowed. She did however keep a photograph of mommy and daddy and herself as a toddler at the side of her bed. Her parents looked so proud of their beautiful daughter in her cute little dress with just a hint of her diaper and plastic pants showing under the hemline. In her heart of hearts, this was how Jenny always saw herself and always wanted to stay. Throughout her school years she kept her desire secret from all but a few. Her supply of diapers and covers only brought out for her own amusement or at times of stress. Exams or even meeting her relations caused her some anxiety; as a result she would slip on her diaper, pull up her plastic panties and crawl into bed. Any and all problems would instantly disappear as she sucked her thumb and regressed to her favourite state – that of a two year-old. Although she was an intensely good-looking girl, and later young lady, she was never confident about her body. Others of her age who might have felt a similar disconnect, found a different, often more destructive way to deal with such a dilemma but Jenny chose a place of warmth and safety. Unfortunately, her parents liked to see her grow up and admired the sweet, sophisticated, understanding and benevolent young woman she became. She gave her time and effort over to looking after children; babies, toddlers and infants up to the age of five who had been abandoned or needed sanctuary for some reason, she had, thanks to a hefty donation, opened up a place of refuge where they could stay protected and well looked after. * The safe house for children was a great success and Jenny loved looking after each and every one of those sweet tots who came her way. The reason she was so successful was because she totally identified with their simple requirements to be kept clean, tidy, fed and amused. She made life simple for herself by having each child of either sex wear only a diaper and smock so that changes were made easier and there was no pressure for them to be seen in the latest trendy clothing, every child was equal, they were all treated the same. The only choices were different coloured diapers and a wonderful array of patterned plastic covers, which the children often made a game of deciding which style to wear. Jenny was no different. She wore her diapers and plastic pants under her dress more or less like her wards, except perhaps hers weren’t as obvious as theirs but were just as colourful. In some quarters she was seen as a Saint; giving up all her time and devoting so much attention to her small but busy nursery. Loving the babies, treating her toddlers with care and making sure they enjoyed their young lives to the full, it was something she felt she was born to do. The mess that kids make was not a problem, she revelled in the noise and adventure, the ideas and play, the innocence and openness - the atmosphere was full of fun and the smell of baby powder - was intoxicating. Jenny and her few helpers would be down on the floor crawling around with the kids, babies were cuddled and rocked, meal times were a hoot and even when there were tantrums and tears, it was all treated with kisses and hugs. Jenny’s team would be having as much fun as the children, playing with toys, nuzzling teddy bears or building imaginary palaces. There wasn’t a dress code for them but a couple, like their boss, wore a diaper under their work clothes. They may have been the most responsible ‘big kids’ in the room but they had as much enjoyment as the children. Apart from the difference in size, it was often difficult to tell grown up from toddler as their diapered and crinkly bottoms interacted and played together. The place was a success and more and more people wanted their own children to be a part of that experience. Alas for Jenny, as the numbers rose so did the expense, which wouldn’t have been so bad if her sponsor’s donation hadn’t dried up and finance proved difficult to come by. The offers of monetary support she received were nowhere near what she needed to keep going and so, with a great deal of regret and emotion, the nursery closed. The children had to go to other facilities, her helpers had to find new work and Jenny was left saddened and devastated by the collapse of her project. She never thought she’d find anything to take its place or give her the satisfaction it had done. She would sit in the colourful empty nursery totally depressed, wearing nothing but her protection and sucking her thumb; she had no idea what to do next. That was until Mr Henderson appeared in her life. *tbc*

Part 6 Mummy was right; no one mentioned the noisy rustling, crinkly sound as he walked by. Crinkle In fact it was safe to say, most people had their own problems and Ryan’s little noise predicament wasn’t one of them. The firm seemed to be going through some changes and everyone was on edge except Ryan. Despite his original reluctance to wear what his mummy had decided, he quite liked this enhanced padded feeling at work. He knew it didn’t matter to any of his work colleagues but yet found his noisy, little secret left him with a knowing smile on his face all day. Crinkle His mother was correct about something else as well; the fact that the padding, coupled with his rowdy silky pants, were a constant reminder that she was supportive, loving and knew what he wanted, even if that was before he was conscious of exactly what that was himself. That hug around his hips was comforting, just like his mummy’s hugs. The thick soft fabric so close to his skin, keeping him safe and secure was everything his mummy was trying to do for her little boy. Even though his bottom was still smarting from the hairbrush he realised that she didn’t want him wasting time worrying about anything, just to accept her love, do what he’s told and enjoy the thing he’d obviously been craving so long. As he walked around his mind was in a very mushy, loving state and he adored what she was doing for him. Crinkle He loved his work but now he couldn’t wait to get home on an evening. Mummy would be there and who knew what development she might have planned. In his head he bounced around the idea of a brightly painted nursery with cartoon characters on the wall. He could see a huge crib with a mobile hanging above it, which played a tinkle-tune lullaby as he drifted off to sleep. He knew this was just fantasy and remembered that only a few days ago he would have rejected the very idea of ever wanting any such thing; the nappy and plastic pants being the sum total of his ‘fetish’. However, things had rapidly changed, his mother had seen to that. No longer was he playing at being ‘little’, she made sure he was now a baby with no responsibility. All he had to do was embrace his mummy’s will, respond to her love and happily drift into a state of perpetual infantilism. Perpetual? This was a dilemma. Wearing a nappy to work was nice and childish and it had to be admitted, gave Ryan quite a thrill, but work itself was far too grown-up for a baby. His mother had thought along these lines since the day she changed from being ‘mother’ to ‘mummy’. From that first ‘crinkle’ hug of acceptance, when Ryan realised his mummy was there for him, she had been developing a strategy to enable her baby boy to be just that. She loved her son and was very proud that at sixteen, when he could have gone on to further education and possibly university, he wanted to work. He was, and is, a sweet and thoughtful boy but, his mother had determined, his need to wear nappies had proved to her that he wasn’t really ready for such responsibility. He did his best and quite successfully but he wasn’t ready. She had decided he needed to return to a time of no stress, no pressure, no responsibility or worries of any kind… her boy was going to return to being the sweet little baby boy who his mummy would do everything for. +++++++++++ The first step was to make sure she had all that was needed. On that first day after the ‘crinkle’ discovery, she set about obtaining those very things. Online she was able to tap in her requests and, thanks to her son’s Paypal account, get much of the stuff delivered. Some of the items were special orders, while others were simple stock products, the rest she could pick up from any pharmacist. On an evening, when he returned from work he was immediately taken to his room where his mother checked his nappy. Occasionally it was wet but, after a day out at work, it definitely needed replacing. Once her son was wiped, cleaned, dried and powdered it was on with a fresh nappy and plastic pants. Sometimes the crinkle ones, sometimes the clear, slippery plastic ones but that was all he was allowed to wear around the house. The smell of lotion and baby powder would greet any visitor, not that there were any of course, and the sight of her son blissfully happy waddling about in a huge nappy emphasised what she already knew. The initial baby dummies she bought were too small for him; they really were for babies and didn’t have enough of a teat for him to suck on. Thankfully, the first things to arrive were the correct sized dummies and feeding bottles so that problem was quickly resolved. The next problem to be undertaken was Ryan’s reluctance to mess himself. His mother understood his problem but he needed to get over it and, rather than resorting to punishment (the hairbrush, though rarely used, remained a permanent threat) she was keen to use other methods. The feeding bottle was just the thing. On the first night she had them, she filled one up with warm milk and added a little extra. His ever encouraging mummy made sure he sucked the entire bottle down just before bed at seven thirty, checked that his plastic pants were tight and fitting securely, pushed a new soft teddy bear into his hands, kissed him good night and waited. In the morning one humiliated and messy boy sat up with tears in his eyes hardly believing what had happened during the night. He hadn’t known it was all down to his mummy but the fact that she was praising and happy to clean him up should have said everything. +++++++++++ However, now she realised there was something else that needed attending to… his hair… to be precise his pubic hair. With poo all squished around it made cleaning her son far fiddlier than it need be. So, she found a large tube of Nair and that night, before bath time, spread it all over her son’s body. Less than a quarter of an hour later, fresh from his soapy paradise, he was hairless apart from that on his head. Sleek and hair-free she smoothed in more lotion and creams, which got her son excited and it was at that point she decided something also needed to be done. Little boys may well want to play with themselves but that impulse definitely needed to be tamed. Ryan was twenty-four and had his own urges that needed to be retrained. Thankfully the solution was online and, judging by some of the web pages she’d looked at previously to determine just what her son liked, she found the very item. The small clear plastic lockable cage arrived on the same day as most of her ‘made-to-measure’ order. On that day everything began to take form. First she typed a letter of resignation, which Ryan would hand to his boss the following day, with immediate effect. Then, once delivered he returned home where his ever loving mother stripped him of his grown up clothing, bathed and informed him from that moment on, he was her precious baby. Ryan wasn’t so sure, his mother discerned he was wavering but she had become a force to be reckoned and had no doubt she knew what was best for her little boy. After more anti-rash cream was rubbed into his groin she attached the little cage thus restricting his pee-pee to a future of confinement. He was surprised at this turn of events and certainly wasn’t happy about it but his acting up soon stopped after a few swats from the ever menacing hairbrush. His mummy had quickly developed a technique that scared, subdued and stung in equal measure. Ryan came to heel the moment it slapped emphatically against is reddened bottom. Now, with the only grown up urge safely controlled behind a plastic cage she wanted her twenty-four year-old son to know his place - and that was wearing a nappy and under her benevolent jurisdiction. Soon the disposables gave way to thick terry nappies and a whole new batch of crinkly, crackly plastic pants was added to his wardrobe. Onesies would become both his day and night ware and short coveralls would be his going out attire. For when he got ‘fussy’, and so there was instant access, a dummy was permanently attached to his clothing, meanwhile, his substantial nappies made sure crawling was the best way of getting about. All his clothes now possessed pop-studs at the crotch so access and changing were made easier. His potty training wouldn’t begin for quite some time so he had no option but to use what mummy had designated. +++++++++++++ Watching his bulky, crackling bottom shuffle or crawl around the room was a complete and utter delight for his mummy and Ryan, well Ryan had to deal with a strange mixture of deep emotions. His ‘little’ fetish was no longer under his control. He was after all twenty-four years old, he had needs and desires that were not catered for by being a baby but those were now under the complete command of his suddenly very dominant, determined and decisive mummy. His occasional bursts of revolt were soon tamed by a few smacks of the hairbrush, which his mother used if needed to get complete and utter compliance. Ryan learned, on an almost daily basis, that he must never be anything more than a cute and acquiescent little baby boy… his needs were second to what his mummy desired. All he had to remember was that his mummy loved him very much and that the only way he could repay that love was to do and be just what she’d determined. His mother did her research. When Ryan had been at work or slept she’d go online and read more stories, features and facts about being an ABDL. She couldn’t believe there were so many other people who enjoyed the same ‘little’ lifestyle that her son ‘enjoyed’. However, she liked the idea that her baby should be just that… she wanted her baby back. She was aware that at his age he had a life of his own to lead but, since she’d discovered there was more to it than just slipping on a nappy, that there were depths and deeper longings, she wanted more for her son and perhaps more importantly, more for herself. She determined that wearing a nappy for so long in secret had been detrimental to his well-being and that nothing less than total immersion in to that lifestyle would make him happy. She felt like she hadn’t done enough to free her son from the shackles he’d had to bear since the day he’d started work. She blamed herself; she’d known about his little fetish and had done nothing for all those years to help her boy. It had been very remiss of her so now she was determined to make amends. She needed something in her life and she couldn’t bear the thought of eventually losing her boy. He needed looking after, that was what all the secret nappy-wearing had been all about so obviously, this was what he wanted. So, the desire to have her baby permanently back would fill her days with immense pleasure and was sure he would feel the same, so, the idea of total regression might be the solution. The more she read about the subject the more convinced it was what her nappy-wearing son wanted… no… needed. He was struggling with his caged wee-wee. He found it frustrating, annoying and desperately wanted rid of it. The lack of access meant he couldn’t do the other thing he liked to do and that was to jerk off into the soft folds of his nappy. He hated this restriction mummy placed on him but his rosy bottom meant that every time he tried to complain, he was dealt a severe blow - he liked the spanking less than filling his nappy with cummies. She was positive that somehow she had to expunge completely his twenty-four year old thoughts. She could do nothing about his body but hoped she could help him become what she… he… desired … a mind that thought only of that second. She’d do more research and start emptying his mind of all his needless thoughts. She had to get him over any reluctance to let go. He needed to know that filling his nappy, playing with toys, cuddling a teddy bear was all she expected of him. Yes, complete regression was the answer. ++++ The hypnotic programme she constantly played through the TV was having an immediate impact as Ryan squirmed and giggled as he watched the colourful images swim around the screen. He quickly learned to cry when his nappy was messy and gratefully hugged mummy once she’d cleaned him up and put him in something dry, soft and comfortable. He loved his new huge nappies and the colourful cartoon plastic pants which cushioned him as he occasionally flopped to the floor. His life was no longer his own… it was his mothers and she only wanted him to respond with smiles, giggles and messy nappies! ++++++++++++++++++ THE END

Part 5 Ryan settled down quickly even though it was early. However, he was surprisingly tired but then… it had been a quite a surprising day. The spanking, the cutlery, the bib, the cut-up food… yes there was a great deal to process but, as he snuggled down in bed, the soft rustle of his silky plastic pants added to his slippery contentment, it wasn’t long before he was fast asleep. His mother came in to check that her boy was sleeping soundly. As she’d done when he was a school boy she got his clothes prepared for the morning. She checked that his shirt didn’t need re-ironing for any reason, checked his chinos were stain-free, made sure his shoes were polished and sorted out a pair of socks. Then she decided that rather than leave him to get himself ready for work she would supervise. The alarm sounded and she went to rouse her dozing son. He looked so sweet laid there, duvet half hanging off his bed, revealing his padded bottom and naked hips, his little t-shirt had ridden high up his back. Thankfully, she thought, soon that wouldn’t be much of a problem. His thick nappy was clearly visible through the clear plastic pants but she was a little upset to see that he hadn’t wet himself. Still, it was early days yet and her son would be doing lots of things he perhaps never thought he would. She gently shook him awake. Sleepy eyed he looked up at his mother. “Morning sweetie, time to get up.” He rubbed his eyes, yawned and was suddenly aware of his bulky protection. He took a couple of beats before answering. “Morning… mummy.” Although she knew he was dry she still slipped her fingers down the front of his nappy to check. Ryan initially jerked away but realised that he had nothing to worry about, his mother had said she would look after him. “Who’s a good boy? Not wet but, Baby Ryan needs to know it’s OK to use his nappy… does my little boy need to potty?” Ryan realised he was actually bursting but shook his head; he had no intention of peeing in his nappy in front of his mother. However, she knew just from the look on his face that he was lying and thought that she would hurry along the acceptance of his situation a little bit by pushing down on his slightly bloated tummy. “Awww mmmuuummm…” The pressure being too much he couldn’t hold back and his bladder let loose. He closed his eyes and pulled a face (a face his mummy remembered from when he was a toddler) as the thick nappy absorbed all his wee. Because of the see-thru plastic pants, which his mummy had bought the day before (as well as other provisions) she could see the white fabric change colour to a pale yellow and silently waited for him to finish. “Well done sweetie… I knew you could do it. Mummy doesn’t mind her baby boy making a mess… so he mustn’t worry if he does.” She held his face between her fingers. “Do you still need to go poo?” “Mmmuumm, I can’t do that in my… can’t I just use the toilet? He begged. “When my little poppet is potty trained he can but until then… he’ll use his nappy like any good little boy would.” This was getting embarrassing but he somehow knew that if he could get over this hurdle, then everything else would be a lot easier. His mum stood over him and encouraged her boy to go potty. “Mum, I can’t go if you’re watching. Can’t you leave me to it?” “Sweetie, there will be no more secrets, there’s no need. My little boy has got a lot to learn and, if he doesn’t want to feel the hairbrush on his cute little bottom, he’ll do as mummy says.” He tried but he just couldn’t make himself go. “Sorry mummy, but I just can’t do it yet.” He looked down all shy and apologetic, which was cute but his mum thought that was something else he was going to have to get over. “Not to worry sweetheart, let’s get you ready for work.” Ryan stood up and was about to do things himself when his mother shook her head and he left her to it. First she removed his rabbit t-shirt, folded and put it on his dresser, then she gripped the plastic pants and in the same movement, loosened the nappy and dragged them both down together. Ryan stood naked awaiting his instructions and although he felt a bit silly, he loved the attention. “OK baby, the bath is ready,” and she steered him towards the bathroom. Once in there he realised just how prepared his mother was. There was a warm bubbly bath complete with a few toys to play with (more items his mother had bought the day before). Set next to the bath was a baby’s changing mat and piled up alongside were lotions, creams and powders, plus a huge pile of disposable nappies on top of which were several pairs of plastic pants. Suddenly Ryan understood that his life was now no longer his own, his mummy had done exactly what she said she would and taken complete control. He assumed he was still expected to go to work, (otherwise why get him up so early), but wasn’t sure what he’d have to wear. This was something else he wasn’t going to have to worry about. ++++++++++++++++ With every move there was an audible rustling. To Ryan it was like a clarion call to what exactly he was wearing, although to his workmates, it was just a weird little sound. His mother had insisted that he wear his crinkly new pants to work, which he simply did not want to do, although a few of her promised swats from the hairbrush on his naked bottom had proved very convincing. ++++++++++++++++ They’d made small-talk as his mummy bathed and then dried him. To Ryan the towel had never felt fluffier as his mother made sure every little nook and cranny was thoroughly eradicated of any moisture. In fact, he was enjoying the attention so much that his penis also stood to attention. Normally he would quickly rub himself for an early morning orgasm but that wasn’t possible in his current situation. His mummy just kept pushing it out of the way with the towel as she dried between his legs. He was quite embarrassed but also wondering if his mummy would take care of it… would she go that far for her little boy. His thoughts were swiftly brought back into focus as she laid him out on the changing mat and applied baby lotion. Again his penis bobbed around looking for attention but she just moved it aside and continued massaging the slippery cream into her son’s bits and bobs. She gently coaxed her son to giggle as she tickled his tummy before sprinkling powder all over his cute little bottom. Pretty soon, and much to Ryan’s frustration, she wrapped him in a disposable and tightly taped him in. She reached for his pretty new butterfly and bird silky, crinkly pants and began to slip them up his legs. Partly out of frustration and partly because he was worried about wearing such obviously noisy pants to work he objected. His mother wasted no time; she pulled down his disposable pushed him over the side of the bath and reached for the hairbrush, which up until that moment Ryan thought was only a threat, and delivered three substantial swats to his bare bottom. “What has mummy told you about this?” Another three swats followed. Shocked and hurting Ryan immediately recognised he’d made a huge mistake. “Sorry mum… er… aahhh… mummy.” He soon realised that a hairbrush applied so efficiently to his bottom was very painful indeed. Three more swats followed. His yelps and pleading echoed around the bathroom but his mum had decided to make her point and thwart any possible indiscipline very early on. She was not going to let him get away with anything other than complete compliance. This is what he wanted and this is what he was going to get… but only as she saw fit. As Ryan sobbed over the side of the bath his mother delivered her final warning. “My little baby will do what his mummy says. There is no discussion. He eats what his mummy gives him, he wears what she puts him in and he does what he is told… immediately. Does my baby now understand these rules?” She waited patiently for a reply but appreciated that her son’s sobs might mean he had to compose himself a bit first. It had been a very painful lesson and Ryan was thoroughly chastised. Any rebellion about his noisy pants was vanquished and so were any future arguments. His mummy had proved herself to be most definite in what she expected from her baby son and would entertain no nonsense... eventually he was able to reply. “Yes mummy. Sorry mummy.” +++++++++++ She hugged her son tightly and then rubbed some soothing cool cream onto his very red and sore bottom. Once this was done she re-fit his nappy, pulled up his crinkly, but to her at least, beautiful shiny pants, and guided him back to his bedroom. Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. She wished she could just keep him like that. She would love to have him at home all the time dressed as her baby and the two playing those little games she used to play when he was a baby. A thought struck her - perhaps she could. She helped him on with his shirt and tie. Ryan was aware of two things; his throbbing bottom and the shiny crinkly bulk he was now going to have to wear to work and he was dreading it. With each movement he could hear the tell-tale crinkle. He was desperate for his mummy to abandon this new dress code, especially as he was a big boy and going to work but his burning bum made him think again about saying anything. His mother of course picked up on his continued reluctance so tried to ease him into his trousers with a few words of encouragement. “I know you are worried about this,” She said as she pulled them up and over his glossy protection. “But I think my little boy looks lovely in his little pants. The pants that you like so much and which mummy thinks you look so adorable in.” As he opened his mouth to try and reason with her he caught sight of her stern look in the mirror and decided against interrupting. “I want to know my boy is well protected when I’m not around … and this is most important… I want him to know that the lovely crinkle sound every time he moves tells him he has a loving mummy at home who only wants the absolute best from her obedient little baby boy.” He was staring at the ground and feeling like a toddler when he asked her what his work colleagues would say. “Does it matter? Yesterday you thought that everyone already knew and if they do, what difference is it going to make and if they don’t… let them speculate… enjoy the fact that they will be talking about you. Most people will be too polite to mention anything and anyone who does… smile knowingly and be proud of the noise… after all, it was something you bought and something you wanted.” With that she patted his padded bottom and sent him off to work. ++++tbc++++

Part 4 Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle Coming down the stairs was a cacophony of crinkles and rustling. Every step he took announced the presence of his very noisy pants and he loved the sound. The fact that they were so babyish, with their cartoon creations embellished all over them, only added to his pleasure as he finally arrived at the table. Amid more noise he sat down whilst his mum appeared with his meal and another surprise. His lasagne was delivered on a small, brightly coloured, plastic plate festooned with Disney characters, a matching plastic spoon and sippy cup completed his new ‘crockery’. He looked stunned. “Muuummm.” She just raised her eyebrows. “My little boy is going to enjoy his din-dins… or he’ll get his little botty smacked.” She kissed the top of his head and smiled at her son’s look of disbelief. Then, to get things underway she picked up his spoon, scooped up some food and aimed towards his mouth. “Muuummm, I don’t need fee…” but his conversation was stopped as his mother spooned in his first piece of lasagne. He swallowed. “OK mum that’s enough I can feed myself thank you… I’m not a baby.” He suddenly realised that he was sitting at the table wearing a nappy, plastic pants and a t-shirt that hardly covered his belly, so to all intents and purposes that is exactly what he was. He quickly calmed down and looked at his mum with pleading eyes. “I can feed myself but… thank you for… well… understanding.” His mum left him to feed himself and went to sit and eat her own meal. For a couple of minutes they ate in silence but his mother had a smile on her face as she watched him eating from his Disney plate that she’d bought that day. He was even drinking juice from his sippy cup, another one of her purchases, the rest she would add over time. However, when a drop of sauce dripped onto his clean t-shirt she got up, went into the kitchen and returned with a matching plastic Disney bib, which she hastily fastened around his neck. Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. He wriggled noisily in his seat as he began to enjoy his new position in the household; no longer the loner son who had secrets, but a little boy whose mummy loved and was determined to look after. “Thanks… mummy.” He said in a quiet and almost childlike voice and spooned in the rest of his meal. “There’s a good boy. Mummy knows what’s best for her baby,” she beamed at how easily he’d cooperated and taken to his new role. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a new role exactly, more of an expansion to one he already held but now his mother was going to be in charge and he could live the life he secretly desired but now… not in secret. Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. The wriggling around was now of utter contentment… but, as his mother quickly pointed out… there would be some new rules for her ‘little one’ that, if he didn’t want to feel the hairbrush on his pretty little backside, he’d better learn… and learn quickly. +++++++++++++ Ryan didn’t quite know why his mother kept mentioning getting spanked with a hairbrush. Neither his father nor mother had, even as a child ever threatened to lay a hand on his bottom by way of chastisement. Despite this he was very happy with the way things were turning out. He never thought he’d be able to wander around the house wearing a nappy but, here he was – loud and crinkly. His mother filled up his sippy cup with more juice and told him he could go and watch some TV before bedtime. Ryan wasn’t paying much attention to the last bit of that conversation and missed that soon it would be bedtime so waddled over to the sofa and sat down to watch one of his favourite soap operas. His mummy was halfway through clearing the dinner table when she realised the programme her little darling was about to watch was really not appropriate. She waltzed in, picked up the remote and much to Ryan’s amazement, switched it to the children’s channel. “I’m not letting my baby watch that awful programme it’s far too grown-up for him.” “But mummmm.” He moaned. “No argument… unless you want to feel that hairbrush on your bare botty sooner rather than later.” She appeared very serious, which surprised her son who immediately wasn’t sure if he was happy with this new arrangement after all. She walked back to the kitchen to finish washing up with the remote in her pocket so he had no option but to watch what she’d ordained was suitable. Ryan desperately wanted this ‘agreement’ to work so decided that, as his mother was doing her best to give him what he wanted, he should also be prepared to go along with her suggestions. If he wanted his mummy to take charge, he couldn’t object when she did. Once she had finished in the kitchen she went up to Ryan’s bedroom, grabbed his new fleecy blanket and teddy and brought them downstairs. She spread the blanket out in front of the TV and shoo-ed her son off the sofa and onto it. “Aw mummmm.” He whined again. His crinkly pants seemed to add to the fact she now regarded him as just a baby. “From now on, unless mummy says you can… you don’t get up on the sofa or chairs… you sit on your blankie.” His plastic pants rustled noisily as he got himself comfortable and eventually he found that lying on his stomach, facing the screen, was the best position. “Good boy… now let’s enjoy these lovely colourful characters in their adventure.” She patted his padded bottom and passed him his sippy cup and teddy to watch the show with. ++++++++++++++ At seven thirty his mum told him it was bedtime. He looked at her in disbelief and shook his head. “Mum… er… mummy, it’s far too early.” He tried the sweet innocent voice he hoped would make her respond to his pleas. “Not yet, I can’t go yet I’d never sleep… I…” “No arguments babykins” and she grabbed his hand and began to lead him to the stairs. He pulled back and petulantly said “No”. However, his mother was equally as adamant. “You will go to bed now or there will be no more nappies or… any of this” She pointed to his outfit and seemed determined that whatever he may desire, it was to be done on her terms or not at all. He was caught off guard by this threat and found himself being almost dragged up the stairs and into his room. There his mother pulled down his crinkly pants, yanked down his disposable and smacked his bare bottom with her bare hand. Ryan wasn’t a tough man, indeed he was fairly scrawny and his mother’s determination, speed and power meant that he had to endure his bottom being swatted for a couple of minutes. There was no denying it… his bottom hurt. His mother had made sure that each slap hit his rosy cheeks and that he’d know he’d been punished. “You never argue with mummy.” Smack. “You never fight mummy.” Smack. “You do what you’re told,” Smack “when you are told.” Smack. “Does my little baby understand these rules?” Smack. “Yes, yes, yes… please mummy no more…” Ryan held back real tears from both shock and the surprising ability his mother had to inflict pain. “I’m sorry mummy…. I’m huuhh… sorry.” He sobbed. “Good boy,” and she cuddled him tightly, “Mummy knows what’s best for her sweet baby boy so…” She patted his red bare bottom. “He’d better do as he’s told - when he’s told or there will be more rosy little botties in future. Have I made myself clear?” “Yes - sob – mummy – sob – I’m sorry- sob – mummy.” He cuddled her tightly and hoped that she’d forgive him. They stayed like that for a few minutes and until Ryan felt the heat beginning to ease from his bottom. “OK young man… let’s get you ready for bed.” A cowering, sobbing, naked and red-bottomed 24 year-old stood waiting for his mother’s instructions. She gathered a nice big piece of material and shaped it into a triangle and then got her timid son to lie out on it. She could see that after the spanking he was a bit scared but to lighten the process tickled his tummy as she rubbed in baby lotion. Ryan nervously giggled but stopped when he saw she was adding a couple of extra thick pads. He wasn’t too sure and wanted to say something but his bottom still hurt so he decided to stay silent. She pulled and pinned it all together and the bulky nappy felt completely different to the nappies he’d put on for himself. Not only that but the softness had eased his smarting bottom so when his mummy slipped a pair of clear plastic pants over the lot, he didn’t say a thing. The soft crinkle and rustle making him accept his fate and enjoy what his mother was doing for him. She got him to stand up so she could check that it all fit and tucked the cuffs of the pants into the nappy to make sure nothing leaked. She added a sweet new green t-shirt with a rabbit wearing a nappy on the front that any one year-old would be proud of and guided him to his bed. “Now sweetheart this is how it’s going to be from now on.” She let him snuggle down and make himself comfortable. “It’s almost eight o’clock now and that’s not good enough. Seven thirty is your bed time… if you’re not in bed by then… it will be the hairbrush.” She kissed her sons furrowed brow. “Have we got an agreement?” Ryan had to think for a brief second – did he want this or was it all too much, too soon and had things gone too far? He nodded his head. “Yes mummy… and thank you. I’ll be a good boy…” “A good baby boy I hope,” his mother added as she stroked his hair. “Yes mummy… a good baby boy… who loves his mummy lots.” “OK sweet pea… just remember there’s no getting up in the night. If you need to go potty… you do it in your nappy. I don’t want my baby hurting himself wandering around in the dark. OK?” Ryan snuggled under his blanket and surprisingly yawned, “Yes mummy… Ryan’s a good baby boy.” +++++tbc+++++

Part 3 Ryan slowly woke up; his favourite pants now feeling hot and sweaty as they clung heavily around his waist. The plastic material had created a little ‘sweat-room’ and he could feel his skin sliding against the slippery shield. The crinkle was dulled. He much preferred it when it was loud and vibrant but at that moment there was just a soft rustling sound to his movements. Still, this wasn’t without its charm. However, he preferred to have his nappy between him and the pants but first he’d have to clean them up. He waddled to the bathroom, the sensation playing excitedly with his sweaty balls and half-hard dick. The shower was a relief. He cleaned himself and the pants and dried both. However, it was time for work so, the question was; should he wear them to the office? He gave it about a minute’s thought before rejecting the idea. It wasn’t that he’d be too embarrassed (you should see some of the things his computer nerd colleagues wore) it was more that he didn’t think it would make a scrap of difference. If his mother had known his secret for years, there was a good chance he was only fooling himself and that everyone already knew… and worse still, simply weren’t bothered. How would he feel drawing attention to himself only to find that no one could care less? He slipped into a comforting disposable and pulled up his trousers. That would have to do for today he thought but tonight, he and his mum were going to have some FUN. +++++++++ Whilst Ryan was at the office his mother had decided she’d also get to work and sort a few things out for herself. The first thing to do was find out a bit more about her son’s likes and dislikes, so, she opened up his computer. Thankfully, the password had not been difficult to crack. Sitting at the side of the laptop was her son’s teddy bear ‘Oscar’ who had been his constant companion since he was a baby. It still looked over everything he did and was sat, as if on guard, watching (with that empty, glass-eyed stare) over its owner’s domain… alas, the password of OSCAR24 was just too obvious. If that bear could talk, Ryan’s mother thought, what secrets could it tell? The first page she saw was for the online store where Ryan bought those crinkly pants and she marvelled at the range of rather stunning items that were for sale. A couple of hours and with a few clicks here and there she’d been able get all she wanted. Later, she went out and purchased a few items of her own. She wanted her son to know how much she cared and how much she wanted to help. At the back of her mind there were niggling doubts about certain aspects to all this. Should she be encouraging him? Should she just leave him to it… not get involved? Should she actually be enjoying the fact that her son liked to dress up as a toddler? An uncomfortable shiver ran down her back but she shook it off and reminded herself that Ryan’s happiness was all that mattered… and… if… by coincidence… it made her happy… so what? She’d noticed the packs of disposables before, when she’d put away some of her son’s freshly ironed clothes but hadn’t commented. However, this meant that he was already equipped to slip into his baby or toddler desires. His crinkly pants were now quite brazenly left out, hooked over the bottom bedpost and waiting for their owner’s return. His mother fondled them with perhaps more interest than was necessary but she was impressed, as only a mother could be, that her son was investing his money in well-made products. As she held them up to the light for further inspection she let out a girlish giggle herself at the cartoon birds and butterfly motif, the loud crinkle that had set things in motion also made her smile. ++++++++++ For Ryan work appeared more boring today. Up until last night he had loved having his ‘little secret’. To him it made him different to all the others in the office and he liked that. Even though he was comfortably wrapped in one of his thick disposables, which was hugging his bum and thighs like a pair of underpants just couldn’t achieve, it wasn’t as special as it used to be. Maybe he should have worn his crinkly pants - although maybe that would have been a step just too far. Now he’d reasoned that everyone probably knew, and weren’t interested, the thrill of possible discovery no longer existed. More so, now his mum knew there was little point in trying to pretend anymore but hoped that his home life hadn’t been compromised in any way. His mum had said that she was OK with it all and he wondered, even though he hoped for some kind of fun (perhaps he’d wear his crinkly pants to dinner one night), she still offered her support and that he wouldn’t have to find somewhere else to live. For a number of years, and certainly since he started work, wearing his nappies, which he’d bought himself, had given him immeasurable pleasure. Knowing he had the desire, yet trying to deny those feelings, had messed him up in some ways. He knew, after his father’s death, that he was the man of the house but that was the last thing he wanted. Not that his mother put any pressure on him, no he was quite capable of doing that himself. Although, once his mum had pulled that last nappy from under him and said that from that moment on he was to wear ‘big boy’ pants, he knew things would never be the same and he’d have to grow up. Being at work and occasionally wearing his nappy had given him a boost. It had given him confidence even if its discovery might have led to embarrassment. He walked tall and, with his manly bits and pieces snuggly contained in their soft comfy wrap, he was able to cope with anything. He’d got this reputation as a solitary figure but one who came up with incredible ideas and solutions to problems. Often, when complications occurred at work, it was to him that the staff looked to sort it out, which he often did, without seeking any show of approval. He was a bit of an enigma to some, a sorter of problems to others and a nice if undemonstrative bloke to nearly everyone. However, for better or for worse, Ryan’s life was about to see a change. +++++++++++ Ryan arrived home soaked through and not because of a sudden downpour. The journey from work had been very annoying, there had been a pile-up on the main road and the traffic was delayed for ages. He arrived home late to find his mother looking worried at what might have happened to him and all because he’d forgotten to re-charge his phone and the thing had gone dead… just when he’d needed it. “Sorry mum. Phone died and an accident on the main road.” He shrugged his shoulders and thankfully his mother looked relieved to have him home unscathed. She noticed the slight damp patch on his trouser front. “Another accident?” She said pointing at the problem and smiled. Yesterday, this would have been an embarrassing problem but now, it was just embarrassing as he told his mum he’d been dying for a piss all the time the traffic was held up. “Wee or wee-wee if you don’t mind… I don’t want to hear rude words from my baby’s lips if you don’t mind.” Strangely a shiver ran down Ryan’s spine. He was being told off… like a child… but in such a way that seemed to make sense. He nodded he understood and then carried on with the story of his mishap. Eventually, he could hold it no longer and realising he was already equipped for dealing with such a problem (he gave a little chuckle as he remembered the moment), he let go. “It was such a relief,” his eyes lit up as he remembered, “I felt so much happier sitting in traffic knowing my bladder wasn’t going to burst.” His mum smiled and nodded in agreement. “You see… these things happen for a reason…” She didn’t expand on what exactly that reason was. “OK, I’ll have dinner on the table in ten minutes if you want to go and change.” He looked down at the damp patch and became aware, thanks to the vivid bulky outline at his crotch, of just how much the disposable had expanded. He thought it felt quite nice and snug but his mother was correct, he needed to change, he couldn’t sit around dressed like that. Up in his bedroom there was a surprise; his mother had laid out on his bed a fresh disposable, his crinkly pants, a t-shirt, a soft fleecy blanket, a teddy bear and a little note that read: MUMMY LOVES HER SWEET LITTLE BABY BOY. He was a little confused. Surely his mother, as supportive as she said she’d be, didn’t expect him to wear these things around the house. But what other explanation could there be? Normally she just made his bed and that’s that. She might put away some freshly washed and ironed clothes but in general, she had nothing to do with what went on in the privacy of his room. This was like she was making a statement: Not only was she okay with his desire to wear a nappy, she was encouraging him to wear one all the time and around the house… she really didn’t mind. As he stripped out of his work clothes he wasn’t sure if he liked this development or not. When he was down to just his soaked underwear he looked in the mirror and saw looking back a man who appeared younger, innocent, fun and cuddly and decided he wanted that to continue. ++++tbc++++

Part 2 As his mother rocked and soothed him in her loving embrace, the sobs that were growing in his chest were replaced by feelings of gratitude. His mother hadn’t gone berserk, far from it, she’d seemed understanding and… and… and sympathetic to his ‘situation’. His mind, which had been racing to find excuses, make up reasons, answer those difficult questions that such a revelation was sure to bring, suddenly disappeared as the calming influence of his mother’s gentle rocking produced a different sensation. He’d forgotten just how enjoyable it was to snuggle: It was safe, it was secure it was… nice. She patted the silky, crinkly bulk wrapped around her son and was immediately transported back to the time when this was a regular occurrence. He was always a loving child and even before his father had died, the family loved to hug and cuddle. After that fateful event, mother and son drew closer finding comfort and security with each other. However, as he got older the intimacy had to change. She desperately wanted him not to grow up being a ‘mummy’s boy’, he needed to be able to look after himself. She wasn’t a clinging mother, she knew when to cut those apron strings but, oh how she missed her baby. There had been so many times when Ryan would be up in his room and she knew he was wearing his nappy. It was his little ‘secret’, one he didn’t want to share with her. Although she was desperate to say something, to tell him it was OK. She worried that her knowing might stop him from doing something he obviously wanted to do and she didn’t want to take that away. But now? She thought the loud ‘crinkle’ sound was his way of inviting her in, to be part of his secret, one he was happy to share and more importantly, be comfortable with. Was she wrong? ++++++ Ryan didn’t want this feeling to change. He knew that at 24 years-old he should be over this need, this desire, to feel safe in his nappy, to love his mother’s embrace, to enjoy his moments of simply being ‘little’ again. In his head it was an escape, an escape he felt guilty about, although that hadn’t stopped him buying nappies, disposables and other items when he needed them. He had no idea why but recently that desire had grown stronger. He wasn’t overly stressed at work. In fact, he found that both easy and satisfying, no there must be some other reason… why else would he have bought these super noisy pants? “Mum” “Yes darling, mummy’s here,” she continued to stroke his hair and hug him tightly. “Err, mummy,” his voice was low. He didn’t want to change this dynamic. He felt safe and contented in her care. “Mummy, did you know?” “Yes sweetheart. I’ve known since the very beginning.” “Why did you never say anything?” His voice was almost childlike. “Because it was yours… something that you wanted… if you had wanted to share it with me I would…” she corrected herself, “I am… fine with it.” The hug got tighter. “Ryan, you’re old enough to know your own mind but if you… if you need something … something that makes you happy… well…” “Don’t you think it’s weird?” “Where’s the harm? Who are you hurting? Who needs to know? It’s OK to have secrets, even from me, I don’t mind but if you are unhappy about the situation it’s up to you to change it. That’s why I thought these noisy,” and she rubbed her hand across his silky bottom and smiled at the slight crinkly noise they made, “I thought you’d decided you wanted me to… notice.” He was enjoying having his bottom stroked by his loving mother and snuggled in closer. “I think that I did. I don’t know why I suddenly decided to ‘announce’ that I liked to wear nappies but… I guess… I must have done.” She patted his padded bundle of babyness. “Ryan, I love you and… you can wear what you like when you like as far as I am concerned. You can tell the world if that’s what you want to do and I will support you.” She looked into his damp eyes and finished her little speech. “You are all that matters to me and if you want to be a baby….” “I like being little mummy.” He coyly interrupted. “If you like being ‘little’… only at home then I am happy as well. I will help in any way I can… what do you want?” Ryan began to think – what exactly did he want? +++++++ Without being aware he was doing so, he sucked on his thumb and gave it some thought. It had been over two hours since his mother had left him to go to her own room to sleep but in that time, he was positive he’d have an answer to his mum’s question, “What do you want?” Alas, no new revelations had entered his head simply because of the way his pants gave him an accompaniment to his every move. Crinkle. He curled up. Crinkle. He stretched out. Crinkle. He rolled over. Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. He was more involved in the noises he was making than with answering the question but rustling around in his bed had proved one thing; the company who made his pants were not lying when they said ‘Make some noise.’ He pulled off his protecting pants and gently rubbed the soft satin against his cheek. He loved the fabric with butterflies and birds and was pretty impressed by the thick crinkly plastic waterproof innards. He slowly ran the two different materials over his body and shuddered in delight at the experience. He removed his nappy and slid the pants across his genitals, which instantly reacted. The velvety ‘butterfly’ kisses as he touched each part of his body delivered shivers of sensuality and excitement to his already over-burdened brain. His orgasm had never been so powerful. He lay there exhausted, his chest covered in the explosive aftermath and he could barely find the strength to pull his precious pants up his thighs to cover his leaking penis. The awareness that there was now a sticky dimension to each crinkle drifted into his dreams as he slipped into contented unconsciousness. ++++tbc++++

Crinkle Part 1 He loved that sound as he moved. That tell-tale ‘crinkle’ that announced to those in the know just what it was he was wearing. They were a new acquisition. The online firm had been very specific that this particular piece of protection was very noisy. Up until he saw the colourful image of butterflies and birds festooned all over the satin briefs, he had never really wanted anything that might draw attention to his ‘slight’ fetish. He was happy for those in the know to be one – him. He wasn’t interested in having DL friends. He wasn’t interested in being babied, all he wanted was that comfort he felt when he wore his nappy and the joy it gave him putting it on and taking it off. However, the online firm he bought his little ‘bits and pieces’ from had launched a new ‘noisy’ range and the photo of this particular pair of waterproof pants had attracted his attention. MAKE SOME NOISE said the headline for the range, and there had been a fair few pairs of pants that he would have been happy to buy but it was this, rather cute, childish and sweet design that appeared to have made the biggest impression. They must have done because for almost a week before he bought them they were occupying his dreams, both night and day. Eventually, the obsession needed to be satisfied so, via PayPal, he made the purchase and waited impatiently for them to be delivered. ++ The impatience didn’t last long because within two days a brown package arrived at his home where, as he was out at work, his mother signed for them. She squeezed the package as she took possession from the mailman and liked the soft feel and the muted crinkle she heard as she did so. She smiled to herself and assumed her boy was treating himself again. Good for him, she thought, he should have other interests beside computers and work. Her son Ryan was 24, slim, nice-looking (she always said he was the handsomest and cutest baby) but a bit of a loner. Her husband Jeff had died in an accident at work when Ryan was 4 years-old so for the past twenty years it had just been the two of them together. The insurance had made it so she was well compensated for her loss and the fact that her son seemed more than happy to live at home had made her content with life. Mother and son spent a lot of time together and socialised (if that was the correct term for the few friends that they bothered to see) and even went on vacation together hardly ever inviting others into their tight band of two. Despite Ryan feeling his ‘fetish’ was only know by him, his mother had known about it for a long time. In fact, she remembered the time it took to get him out of nappies and how much her son of 9 had cried when he was made to wear only his pyjamas when he went to bed instead of the protection he’d happily worn up until then; his mum eventually convincing him to be grown-up, even if she had a secret longing for him to stay forever her baby. Of course for a mother all children remain their babies… no matter how old they get and Ryan, well Ryan had found his own way to satisfy something he needed. She was happy about this but didn’t want to be seen obviously condoning it because she knew that he thought his secret was just that… a secret. However, she had a secret of her own and that was she knew Ryan wore his nappies to sleep in and had noticed he occasionally went to work wearing his padding. It was at those times she just wanted to ‘mother’ him and return to those days when she looked after every aspect of his life. But, she was of the opinion that she would only do so if and when her son asked her to. She didn’t want to provoke any reaction that might somehow make things awkward at home. She liked her son being with her and would hate for him to feel she had driven him away because of something she wanted. No, the best thing was to support her son when it was needed but in the meantime, enjoy her memories of when he was young… though she could add those images that ran around her head of him sucking his thumb and wearing his nappy now. +++ He walked up and down his bedroom knowing that no one else would know what he was wearing but rather pleased about what he could hear. Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. Over the years he’d kept this secret he’d had no desire to broadcast it to anyone else but, and this was the part he really wondered about, this new possession, this stunning pair of satin and plastic protection, gave him a whole new insight to his fixation. The nappies had been wonderful; comfortable, soft, bulky and held happy memories for him. The plastic pants had been a later addition; one that seemed to set off his nappy and give it a new, smooth, sensual aura that he suddenly craved. These new pants had been that step further; an acknowledgement of his own desires (even if he was only admitting it to himself) with that audible response to each step he took. Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle. He thought this was a bold step, although he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t a brave man and couldn’t see himself wandering down the road ‘rustling and crinkling’ till heart’s content but the fact that he had picked up the nerve to buy them, he thought, must mean something. He looked in the mirror. Naked apart from his thick nappy and beautiful silky covering he was amazed at how spectacular and wonderful it all looked. He moved slightly… crinkle… he moved again… crinkle… he was looking forward to sleeping in his new noisy protection. In fact, he might have an early night so he could enjoy the strange and electric sensations that were coursing through his body. Just as he was about to shout down to his mother (who he presumed would be downstairs watching the TV) unannounced she walked in to his room. ++++ An ice-cold feeling of panic coursed through his body. This was the first time his mother had seen him dressed in such a way since he was a child. The smile on her face wasn’t noticed as he screamed angrily at her to “Get Out”. “Get out, get out, GET OUT.” Despite his harsh words terror rooted him to the spot, his slim naked frame only highlighting his padded outline but his mum wasn’t to be put off. “Ryan it’s alright I…” But Ryan shook his head and screamed more, “Get out, GET OUT.” The feeling of wellbeing that had encompassed his body and mind just a few moments earlier were now transformed into anger and guilt… he shivered at those very guilty feelings. His mum stepped forward to comfort her irate son but he stepped away, trying to hide his embarrassment and push her away at the same time. “Don’t worry Ryan… it’s going to be OK… I…” Again he pushed his mother towards the door, tears beginning to form in his eyes, but at that moment fury conquered his guilt as he spat those words once more. “GET OOOOOUUUUTTTT”. His mother’s beseeching hands held out in comfort were rejected amid her son’s confusion and terrified shame. He screamed at her but this time his mum would have none of it. She grabbed him by the arms, spun him around and landed three quick slaps to his padded bottom. He would have hardly felt a thing but was so surprised by this that he immediately stopped screaming. His mother sensing the change of mood stormed in. “Don’t you ever,” spank, “raise” spank, “your voice” spank, “to your mother” spank, “again.” She knew her actions would have caught him off guard and pressed this slight advantage. “Ryan Gatland… do you understand?” and she raised her hand as if threatening to repeat the spanking. “Yes,” his voice was almost inaudible. “Yes what?” His mum pursued her point with another slap. Through sniffles he told her the words she insisted on hearing. “I will not shout at mum… mummy.” She hugged him close to her chest and smoothed her son’s hair. “That’s right. Mummy is always here for her little baby boy… no matter what.” She hugged and kissed his head more. “No matter what…” she quietly repeated. +++tbc+++

Part 2 Up in their room Stevie was subjected to a long lecture from his father who, whilst changing him insisting that he would, for the foreseeable future, wear only his diaper as punishment for the wicked abuse towards his mother. Once he was all clean and wrapped in a new disposable he hugged his son, told him how much he loved him but would not put up with such ‘feral’ conduct. Stevie realised he’d been in the wrong and had his eyes cast to the floor all the way through his father’s speech, he knew there was no point in trying to reason or argue because he’d brought this on himself. He also knew that if he just went along with it, the sooner it was started then the sooner he hoped the punishment would be over. After all, they were going to be at the hotel for two weeks and he desperately didn’t want to remain in diapers for that entire time. * Their room was huge. Well it was three rooms really, a living area and a large double bedroom for mum and dad, which, separated by a bathroom, led through to a smaller bedroom with two single beds for Stevie and Eva. Not only that but they had a fantastic balcony which overlooked the pool and the beach could be seen between the palm trees. The view cheered everyone up, even Stevie’s spirits rose as they unpacked a couple of towels and headed down to the pool. Unfortunately, Thomas had told Stevie that there would be no swimming for him as he was still being punished, but the rest of the family were dressed for fun. Meanwhile, with a resigned sigh, his mother slipped a pair of see-thru plastic pants over his diaper as water-proofing and then led her brood down to the poolside. Thomas was teaching his daughter to swim and Stevie sat with his mother on a sun-lounger embarrassed but knew there was nothing he could do about it. He became a focal point for some kids of all ages who passed by, some made it obvious they were staring at him, whilst others giggled and commented on the ‘big baby’. His mother rubbed suntan lotion into his back so that he could just lie out and pretend to be asleep. However, he heard every comment that was made and his plastic covered diapered bottom attracted attention from kids and parents alike. Stevie knew this was going to be a very long holiday if he couldn’t get his father to change the punishment, or at least give him his shorts back, and resolved to do something he’d never done before, sincerely apologise. In the past he’d apologised for his behaviour only when he had no choice, and often through tears, but this time he decided, he would talk to his father, mother and sister when he wasn’t under any such obligation, admit his faults and failings, agree that the punishment was just but hoped he would be forgiven. This was a bold move on his part and showed a remarkable amount of maturity to come up with such a plan. * So, just before he and Eva were being put to bed (when he was in diapers he had to go at the same time as his six year-old sister) and dressed in his ultra-thick night time protection, he begged for forgiveness, admitted those failings and promised that he would be no further trouble for the rest of their vacation. Both his parents smiled at this admission and in truth were quite impressed by his action. However, they weren’t so easily persuaded and the punishment would continue, for the time being at least. He kissed his parents goodnight and, once they’d patted his bulky little padded bottom, he slowly waddled off to bed. He knew he could do no more but hoped that they would discuss what he’d said and somehow come up with a different plan than diapers. However, the strange thing was, now he had to wear them he actually didn’t mind. They were very embarrassing when out and about in the daytime but now in bed there was something comforting, protecting and pleasurable about having that much soft fabric surrounding his genitals. He fell asleep gently stroking the bundle beneath his plastic pants. * Stevie woke up and saw that Eva was already playing with her doll on her bed. He couldn’t hear if his parents were up so lay there wondering if they’d thought over his little speech and, more to the point, had it made any difference? Meanwhile, the curtains in the room looked like they were keeping out a wonderful day so he got up to pull them back, it was then he realised he’d done something he hadn’t done for many years, he’d really wet himself during his sleep. The disaster had only become apparent once he’d moved but now he was up he could see the full horror of his nocturnal mishap. The disposable was soaked and his plastic pants had expanded with the amount of pee let loose. Eva, dressed in her little princess nightie, was wondering why her brother should be walking in such a strange way. His waddle and self-disgust was emphasised even more when his mother entered the bedroom and he just stood there on the verge of tears unable to think of an excuse. * Although surprised, his mother hugged her son, told him not to worry as accidents happen and that she’d sort him out once she had Eva dressed. In fact it only took a few minutes to get Eva ready as they had planned a day on the beach so all she needed was to be out of her nightie, a quick wash and into her princess bathing costume. She ran into the living room to ask her daddy if Princess Chloe (her doll) could go to the beach with them. For now, a mortified Stevie sobbed in complete and utter devastation. Any high ground he thought he might have gained drooped along with his diaper as his mother gently eased her son from his night time calamity. He, desperate to hold back the tears, just let his mother get on with what she had to do, there was absolutely no point in trying to defend his grown-up status, as the soggy mess flopped to the bathroom floor. To make matters worse, his father came in to help. It was the last thing Stevie needed but his dad had said that Eva needed help with something that only mother could sort out so they changed places. Stevie was desperately trying to hold back the grief he felt but was unsuccessful. Meanwhile his father turned on the shower, soaped his boy up and gave him a thorough wash. Once dry Stevie had hoped that his humiliation would have been enough for him to resume normal clothes, especially the neat baggy, though trendy, shorts he’d recently been bought. * Alas, he saw that is father was unfurling a disposable and sighed as the lotion and powder were applied before he was snuggly fitted with his daywear. Thinking of his own ‘accident’ prone days his father said, “You are not being punished for having an accident last night, it can happen to anyone.” He didn’t explain any further but his mind was churning with thoughts of those past wet mornings. “But you are still responsible for what you said to your mother at the gas station.” Stevie nodded, there was little else he could do. “So, that punishment remains but your mother and I have taken on-board what you said last night and we admire your honesty and your admission…” Quiet though it might have been Stevie found his voice, “Yes dad, I’m really, really sorry.” His father hugged him but he was determined his son must face the consequences of his action, and he knew the penalty for such behaviour. “For the time being at least you will wear only your diaper and plastic pants around the hotel.” He looked Stevie steely in the eye, “You’ll be on the best behaviour you have ever been and you will be responsible for looking after Eva and making sure she has a wonderful time on this vacation. Are we clear?” He had no option, “Yes dad, sorry dad but please, please can I have my shorts back…” he begged, “even those really short ones I...” “Not this time Stevie. You need to learn and this will be a constant reminder. However, your diaper will be this…” and he unfurled a rather slim looking thing, “and you’ll wear these over the top.” Again he produced from seemingly nowhere a pair of pale blue studded plastic pants that held it all together tightly. “Once you are fastened into these, they will just look like shiny shorts but there will be less bulk than usual.” At least it was an improvement and as he looked in the mirror he saw that the look wasn’t as bad as wearing just a thick diaper. “However, and this isn’t up for argument, night times you’ll be wearing protection.” He saw his son heave a sigh. “I can’t let you possibly wet the hotels bed and until we’re sure you can be dry for a few days at least, that’s what you’ll be wearing.” Stevie wasn’t happy but he was happier than he thought he’d be. He desperately wanted his shorts back but, as that wasn’t going to happen, what he had to wear was the lesser evil. He could cope with night time diapers but he wanted out of his daytime protection as soon as possible so he agreed and thanked his father for being so understanding. * After breakfast, in the hotel restaurant where his latest diaperwear hardly caused any reaction, Stevie was given the task of looking after Eva who had decided she wanted to go to the hotel’s well equipped children’s play area. At least he’d be away from the older boys and girls who had ridiculed him the previous day and he thought he’d probably get very little trouble from toddlers and their parents. He was correct, his shiny protection once again hardly raising an eyebrow. In fact, if anything, he was greeted with smiles from the parents and tiny groping hands wanting to feel his diaper from the toddlers, neither of which gave him any problems. When kids asked why he was wearing protection he just said he needed it because he still wet occasionally. Apparently, telling the truth to youngsters wasn’t a problem as they accepted what he said and got on with their own fun and games. Playing with Eva and a bunch of her newly made friends was proving to be fun and he soon forgot about his diapers and happily engaged in all their games. Although he was way too young to sit and watch like their parents and too old to play on certain pieces of apparatus he was very attentive to Eva. However, where he could he’d immerse himself in their childish games, much to the approval and admiration of the watching mums and dads. Stevie didn’t know it but each parent was judging their own children’s behaviour against his and he was coming out as some kind of angel. His patience and understanding with the youngsters had each parent wishing their teenagers were like Stevie. Those parents let their thoughts wander, if they put their self-important, unthinking child back in diapers, perhaps they could get a nice, thoughtful son or daughter back? It was a possibility Stevie had set in motion; a change in relationships between some families that he just could not have foreseen. * As he was on his way back to meet up with his parents, holding Eva’s hand and guiding her through the masses of people, a group of older teenagers ambushed Stevie and jeering, pushed him into the pool. His father had forbidden him to do anything other than look after his sister but this was not something he had any control over. The group of older kids stood at the poolside tormenting and mocking Stevie, calling him baby names and generally trying to ridicule him. Stevie was only pleased that Eva hadn’t been pushed in with him but he could see she was scared and crying because of this abusive group of young thugs. Every time he tried to get out the eldest one of the gang, a ginger-haired ruffian called Alex, kept up a verbal assault while pushing him back into the pool. The taunting didn’t last for too long as one of the parents from the children’s play area, a young fit man in his twenties, collared the ringleader and made him apologise. Alex thought he was on safe ground to tell the young parent where to go but his attitude soon changed when he saw his father, a hulk of a man himself, bearing down on him. He assumed his dad would be on his side but to the satisfaction of everyone but the boy, his father grabbed him, made him apologise to Stevie and help him out of the water. Stevie’s disposable had soaked up half the pool so it was no longer a hardly noticeable diaper as the plastic pants had ballooned out trying to contain the thing. Stevie stood at the side of the pool trying to console his sister and managed to get her smiling again when he made a joke about how huge his diaper had become. Alex’s father asked where Stevie and Eva’s parents were and followed them to explain and apologise for his son’s behaviour. Alex was not happy about this turn of events but his father made him explain why he thought he was allowed to make fun of Stevie. Alex mumbled something about him looking like a little baby but his father merely asked if he felt that it was OK to abuse a baby. Alex looked mighty guilty and said “No” in perhaps the quietest voice he’d used in many years. * His father asked Thomas if he was going to change Stevie out of his wet diaper and if he was, would it be OK, if they had any spare, for him to diaper his son at the same time. Alex looked dumbfounded at such a suggestion but at the threat of a severe beating, and the prospect of still having to wear a diaper, Alex didn’t voice too much opposition. Perhaps that was partly due to the fact that he’d been a menace the entire vacation and was constantly bullying other children. His father had warned him time and time again but with no improvement in his conduct. He saw this as an opportunity to put an end to his son’s anti-social activities once and for all and this seemed a good way to emphasise the point. If he thought it was OK to pick on others who dressed differently then he would dress the same and see how he liked it. Obviously, Alex had been spanked by his father in the past and was not wishing to relive the experience. So, cowed in front of his friends, Alex followed Stevie up to their room to be changed. Ten minutes later and Stevie was back at the side of the pool wearing his thin disposable and blue plastic pants. Alex was wearing one of his victim’s very thick night time diapers and nothing else. His father had made the condition for him getting his pants back – “When he stopped behaving like a spoilt brat and acted responsibly”. Alex was very sullen as he sat by the side of his parents blushing at every man, woman and child who suddenly found it interesting to walk by and gawp at this bully’s comeuppance. * On seeing Alex’s treatment at the hands of his father there was a sudden improvement in quite a few of the other teen’s behaviour. In fact, the shop in the hotel sold out of various sized diapers (they only carried a limited number of packs) as parents equipped themselves for if and when their kids acted up. Over the next couple of days it wasn’t just Stevie or Alex who found they were wearing nothing but diapers in public. A few other boys and girls, both teens and pre-teens, appeared a little shaken and submissive as they were paraded similarly attired. One girl was made to suck on a pacifier all the time and the general, youthful exuberance you’d expect from a hotel full of noisy kids was kept to a tolerable level. Parents, it appeared, had taken back control and would no longer put up with any appalling manners from their offspring. * Two days later and Stevie was wearing normal underwear under his fabulous new baggie shorts. It would have been so easy for him to get his own back on those who had ridiculed him but who were now themselves reduced to just diapers but he wasn’t that stupid. He knew that if he misbehaved that he would quickly find himself back to being treated as a naughty kid again and that involved diapers and plastic pants. However, he had, despite a couple of dry nights, volunteered to be diapered for bed. Of course he hadn’t admitted it to his parents but he liked how he felt when he went to bed all snuggly protected. Although he had liked it when his mother or father had changed him he thought he’d be ‘grown up’ and offered to diaper himself on a night. His parents agreed and the family had a fantastic vacation, possibly the best they’d ever had. With Stevie taking responsibility for Eva it gave his parents more time to themselves and as a consequence, he was constantly receiving praise from other parents because of the way he interacted with the young kids. However, barely concealed beneath the positive remarks were the thanks he got for showing them the benefits of diapering their unruly kids. Once back home Stevie continued with his self-diapering on a night. Neither of his parents objected to this little quirk. After all, his father would say to his wife, “We all have our own little idiosyncrasies”. ****TheEnd****

Stevie’s Story Part 1 Stevie hated to travel. He hated it because ever since he was a baby his father had insisted that whenever they went anywhere, by car, bus, train or plane; he and later his sister always had to be put into protection for the trip. * He’d tried when he was five to rebel against this unjust rule but, when he’d found himself bare arsed over his daddy’s knee and getting a sound spanking and afterwards still being made to wear diapers and plastic pants over his stinging bottom, he saw the error of arguing against an adult. Even now, though resentment coursed through his thirteen year-old body, he knew better than to defy his father. Just one look from his uncompromising face made sure that he did just as daddy said. His six year-old sister Eva never argued, she just did as she was told and put up with the bulky protection that accompanied them on any journey. His mother supervised they were both wearing the prescribed clothing for any trip as it was simply one of her husband’s golden rules. She understood why he was so insistent on this particular ‘rule’, she didn’t see it as anything but a sensible precaution so was more than happy to go along with his few quirks and foibles, after all, he was a wonderful, generous, loving husband and father. Stevie’s daddy Thomas wasn’t a bad daddy. At forty he was at his peak; six foot two, clear complexion (he was often mistaken for a lot younger), a slim but solid figure of which any athlete would be proud, his brown hair cut short and on top of all that his business was doing well. In many ways he was perfect but it seemed that on this one issue, ‘kids travel’, he was a tyrant and unbending in his insistence on them being fully protected for the journey. It had been something he’d been made to adopt when he was a child, well up into his teens after which his parents announced he was old enough to be well aware of his own toilet needs. He himself had rebelled at the idea of wearing diapers on any journey but was often reduced to being seen as a ‘silly little boy’ when he’d arrive at the destination and realise that he was in fact soaked through; the protection doing its job and saving him from an embarrassing puddle. Indeed, the ‘puddle’ predicament had been what started this generational ruling for overly protective padding. * Steve’s granddaddy, Thomas’s father, had made it a rule after his six year-old ‘big boy’ son had fallen asleep and left a huge puddle on the car seat during a long drive. That damp patch was never really forgiven and to reinforce that memory, the young Thomas had to wear a diaper on any such future outings. It was only when he went off to college that the diapering stopped being insisted upon by his father. However, the long bus trip from home to college had consequences. During the journey Thomas had fallen asleep only to wake up to find he was severely wet. The embarrassment of the spreading damp patch and soaked seat meant there was nothing he could do to hide what had happened. However, at that moment he wished above anything else that he’d listened to his father and taken the precaution of a thick diaper “Just to be on the safe side”. He’d mocked his father’s advice, mocked the very idea of these days (or any other) needing any sort of protection at his age, yet now he was feeling the shame of wet pants and the folly of ridiculing his father’s wise suggestion. His fellow newbie’s to the college had noticed the very discernible damp patch and from that moment on Thomas garnered the nickname of “Peepants”, a sobriquet that followed him throughout his college years. It didn’t help that the first and second night in the dorm he also wet the bed but managed to smuggle the evidence out before his roomie was aware. After that he wore protection every night until he was sure that no more accidents would occur. However, he wet often in those first few months and was glad he could hide the fact by being well protected on a night. He was very embarrassed about what had happened but decided that prevention was more instant than trying to find a cure and knew he’d be more self-conscious if he continued to wet and the nickname was to become engraved in stone. At least if they didn’t know what he did (or didn’t do) he could laugh off their jibes and pretend it had been a one-off experience. However, that embarrassment became such an imprint on his mind he didn’t ever want to be in such a shameful situation again. So deep was his anxiety for wetting in any situation it became an obsession so that when his own children came along they were paying for that fear and humiliation even though they didn’t know it. * Of course young Stevie knew nothing of this and simply resented having to wear such thick diapers. He’d only recently become a teenager so thought that like his peers, he should be allowed to do whatever he wanted. So far his cute looks and blond hair (from his mother’s side of the family) for some reason meant at school he could get away with almost anything, although at home his daddy would see through any deception and his big blue eyes were of no help. If he even looked like he was going to complain his father simply made him wear them for longer. Moaning and whining also produced the same penalty - the wearing of diapers and plastic pants throughout their stay - where ever that may be. The only time the dress code was relaxed was if they went to the beach or to a pool and then bathing costumes were allowed. However, as soon as that finished, or if there had been any whingeing, it was back to re-diapering, in public if there was nowhere else to change. This punishment was available but rarely enforced because over the years both their children had learned the consequences of insubordination. Besides, they weren’t spoilt or naughty little brats constantly in need of chastising; they were, for the most part, well behaved children of which any parent would be proud. Normally, as soon as they reached their destination both were then allowed back into their usual underwear. That was until Stevie got in to a quarrel about the fact that his diaper was too bulky and obvious and everyone knew what he was wearing. Not only did he argue with his mother about its size he shouted and swore at her for making him into a ‘sissy little baby’. This reaction had happened because they’d stopped at a services station on their way to their seaside destination. There were only a couple more hours to go but as both Stevie and Eva had said they urgently needed the bathroom Thomas had pulled onto the forecourt and let them out. Stevie was old enough to be able to sort himself out, whereas Eva needed her mother’s help. Meanwhile, father went and bought a few snacks for the rest of the journey and filled the car up with fuel. His mother was shocked at such an outburst. Although she wasn’t to know that it had been brought about by something another boy had taunted whilst Stevie was visiting the restroom. Although the reason for the protection was to contain any ‘accidents’ the children weren’t made to use them. If they could make it to the bathroom all the better, alas on this particular occasion his protection had been seen and ridiculed. The other boy, who was slightly older than Stevie laughed, pointed and couldn’t wait to tell his friends what he’d just seen. Stevie felt the humiliation grow as he struggled, after he’d peed successfully, to rearrange the obvious bulk in his shorts but as the boy sniggered contemptuously, unfortunately for Stevie that shame transformed into tears. The other boy couldn’t believe his luck and took great delight in teasing and calling him a “Sissy little baby who needed to go poo-poo in his little diapee”. * Alas, Stevie wasn’t equipped to deal with this verbal assault and simply wasn’t a match for such a self-confident bully so all he could do was cry and run from the vicious taunting. However, on his return to his mother, the torment had become too much, so had the exasperation of his situation so, with the bully’s words echoing in his head, he let loose a stream of anger towards her. His sister and mother both looked at Stevie in shock. Never had he used such words and never had he been so disrespectful to his mother, worse though was that his father overheard his vitriolic attack and decided to act there and then. Not caring who was around his daddy grabbed him by the arm and without so much as a word of warning, pulled his son’s shorts and protection down and spanked him hard in public. Amongst others, the young bully and his friends witnessed the spectacle and although part of them felt sorry for the poor guy, another part thought it was what a diaper-wearing cry-baby deserved, they were just thankful they were not on the receiving end of the very hard thrashing. Stevie’s little bottom glowed before his father stopped. Once he did he pulled up his sons diaper but wouldn’t let him have his shorts and told him to get in the car. The spectators, who had witnessed both the boy’s outburst and its consequences, were mumbling support and disgust in equal amounts at what had just happened then moved off and left the family to sort out their own domestic situation. Stevie, wearing only his diaper, sat in the car bawling his eyes out, his father, who had calmed down a bit was trying to appease his wife who thought that the punishment had gone too far. However, Thomas would have none of it and explained that if he didn’t nip such bad behaviour in the bud now, who knew where it could all end. He simply was not prepared to have a son who disrespected his parents, or anyone else for that matter, no, that type of behaviour would not be tolerated. * Stevie had made a bad situation worse and through his tear-stained eyes understood he’d done wrong attacking his mother in front of everybody. However, he thought his father’s response had been very cruel. There was a mixture of feelings running through his body, defiance and sorrow, but it was sorrow that was winning because his bottom stung as he sat trying desperately not to wriggle about in the diaper. Strangely enough, as he did, it was offering some sort of comfort but he just couldn’t stop crying at what he thought had been a gross injustice. Unfortunately for Stevie his timing could not have been worse. They had not been far from their destination and his mother was just about to relieve him and his sister of their diapers in preparation to the start of what was expected to be an enjoyable vacation. Alas, Stevie watched as his sister was changed out of her protection and put into her sweet flowery nylon panties, and all he could do was sit there dressed solely in his diaper feeling angry, humiliated, sore and hard done by. Dejected and humiliated his tears started again as they drove off whilst his constant bleating to his parents that it wasn’t fair that his sister was allowed out of her protection while he, her older brother, had to stay in his, made it more or less certain he would be wearing a diaper for the rest of their trip. His father warned him that if there was any further complaining not only would he be wearing diapers for the rest of the holiday, that’s all he’d be wearing. This news set him off on another round of tears but this time he didn’t voice his distress he just blubbed to himself and tried to hide away from the rest of the family. * That’s difficult when you’re sat in the rear seat of a family car. Eva was sitting next to him proudly wearing her grown-up panties under her dress and she kept looking across at her brother as he struggled to feel comfortable in just his diaper. She tried her best to get her brother to join in a game, or read her a story but he sat grumpily, arms folded and seething. Like the rest of the family Eva was pretty and cute. Indeed when out together the entire family looked like they’d just stepped off the cover of some fashion magazine. Even when they dressed casually they looked the part of models ready to go about their posing and little Eva just set the family package off to a T with her curly blond hair, pixie-like looks and sweet demeanour. However, at that moment at least one of the models was not happy: Stevie didn’t even have plastic pants to try and hide the soft mass that was, despite his anger and frustration, keeping him snug and his bottom away from the firm seat adding to his pain. For a second he plotted some kind of revenge. He thought he’d teach his father a lesson and wet himself on purpose… thus soaking the seat. Well, that was the way his mind was thinking. Sadly, that little scheme wouldn’t work even if he’d had the guts to try it as he’d just emptied his bladder at the gas station. So, even if he could force something out, it would hardly have dampened his diaper never mind leave a mess. He was thwarted and sat squirming around, this action comforted and settled him down, which soon saw him dozing quietly for the remainder of the journey. * When they arrived at the hotel Stevie was in for another surprise, he had wet himself. He wasn’t soaked through but he was undoubtedly wet and that inhibited him from getting out of the car. He was worried what his father would say, he was worried that others would see his drooping diaper and he was totally embarrassed that his father had been correct about him wearing a diaper to avert this type of accident. He simply didn’t want to get out of the car but the threat of another public spanking made him swallow any pride he had and follow the rest of the family into the hotel lobby. His mother had promised that she’d change him as soon as they got to their room but until then, he’d simply have to make do. He dare not look at any of the other vacationers who were milling around the huge hotel foyer. To Stevie there seemed to be hundreds of people, kids and adults, all looking at him and his very droopy diaper. He tried to hide behind his case but, as it was on wheels and too heavy to carry, he had to drag behind him. This offered too good an opportunity to some of the kids who noticed and were noisily indicating the fact to others while laughing at the new arrival. It looked quite bizarre as they booked in and got the key to their room that the little girl was dressed normally but her older brother appeared to be the baby of the family. I’m sure many of the children who witnessed this spectacle had made up their own minds but the adults would have known that the boy in diapers was being punished for some reason. It was true that a few of the parents wondered how effective such a punishment might be and wanted to talk to Stevie’s parents to find out; no doubt thinking that they might use it on their own unruly kids. Little did the boys that were hooting with derision at Stevie know that their own day of reckoning was not that far off. * To be continued

Never More Content – Part 5 Epilogue Baby Robbie seemed to flourish in his new life. All the negative thoughts and actions had been banished from his mind and, under the supervision of his loving daddy, he spent his days at play with all his new friends. Despite the small, though constant, niggling worry at the back of Mark’s brain, his time had also never been happier. Looking after a toddler as cute, loving and as adventurous as Robbie was the most rewarding thing he’d ever accomplished in his life. Forget all the accolades, awards, certificates and degrees, they may have looked impressive on his office wall, but he knew his true value was in giving his baby boy all the love and attention he could. As a regressed two year-old Robbie loved everything and looked every bit the adorable kid he was as he ran around in his bulky diaper trying and experiencing new things. Although Mark loved to see that little cushioned bottom getting involved in games with his friends it was even nicer when he was curled up next to him as they watched TV together. He loved dressing up the little rascal. Early on, Paul had described to Mark how seeing Little Liam at play, wearing a thick, well-padded and stuffed diaper, had, for him at least, reinforced his childishness. He never wanted his little boy to lose that innocence; that visible packed diaper was the symbol of that virtue. He wanted it to be a constant reminder to all who saw Liam; the guiltless and unsophisticated world in which his little boy was now happily immersed. Mark took up this mandate and thought the same should apply to Robbie, so their thick and highly visible padded bottoms were the beacon for how little boys should always look. Having said that both had some lovely, cheerful, colourful clothes; occasionally Paul or Mark would buy matching outfits for them both because they looked so damn adorable together. Because he was taller, Liam looked like Robbie’s older brother but they still acted and looked like little tots as they scrambled around or made forts or fought intergalactic spacemen or… they never seemed at a loss for things to play and were constantly on the go. Sometimes, there bottoms, like the rest of them, would be covered in dirt or mud but thankfully, the plastic pants protected them from doing too much damage to their diapers. However, the boys always seemed to return to daddy messy and wet and a change would have to quickly be made so they could rush out and carry on with their games. It seemed incredible that there were so many other daddies and mommies with ‘littles’ of their own. Since the time the crèche was instigated almost 20 months ago, the demand for more and more places meant that their little company had to expand. Mark and Paul and the two retired nurses had built on that success and it had fast become a very strong and well organised business. Meanwhile, as the company swelled there was a little game that the two daddies liked to play between themselves… and that was to find the most adorable clothes for the charges to wear. In the early days colourful plastic pants were eagerly sought out for the boys but as time moved on so did the desire to put them in original designed onesies, specially made t-shirts, shortalls or shorts that emphasised the bulky diaper underneath. The boy’s wanted for nothing and always looked distinctive, colorful and pretty. Seeing the boy’s storming around in their latest fashion, was always a pleasure to the men, even though their clothes never seemed to be on for long before their daddies came up with another piece of exotic merchandise for them to dress up in. Other daddies and mommies joined in the fun as well… often treating their tots to some bizarre creations. It appeared that most adults liked to see their kids in original designs, so another company was set up to develop those ideas and concepts and turn them into reality. Sometimes the creation was so well-padded the little one could only crawl around as the bulky nature of the diaper between their legs was so vast they couldn’t walk. No matter how outrageous or challenging the design was, Mark and Paul found a group of ‘creators’ who took up the challenge to manufacture any new innovation. Mark’s favourite was a pale yellow rubber onesie that he’d had made especially for Robbie. He looked incredible in it and matched perfectly with the pale green leather onesie that Little Liam occasionally wore. Both had different coloured, though matching, plastic or rubber pants that emphasised the boy’s thick protection – though these outfits were only worn on special occasions. Mark loved his and Robbie’s evenings together the most. He loved the ritual of bathing his little boy. Splashing together in the bath, playing with rubber ducks, plastic ships and squirting toys made for a fun way to end the day. Mark had used a lotion to make sure that Robbie’s pubic hair would never return and, as he was permanently regressed, his little cock was always happily at peace. Massaging in the baby cream, powdering him and wrapping a nice thick diaper around his waist before pulling on a pair of leak-proof pants… was a magical routine he never tired of. As he kept telling Robbie, ‘little boy’s need all the protection they can get’, before finishing the procedure with a delightful onesie that fastened between the boy’s outstretched legs. A warm bottle of milk and always, a loving embrace completed the night time tradition. Mostly, Robbie slept in his own crib in his own room, which had been designed and decorated with cartoon scenes. Occasionally he’d sleep with daddy, who appreciated the little warm body lying next to his. The thick padding making sure that there were no accidents in the night, which Mark found equally as comforting when he hugged him tightly. Pressed up against little Robbie in this way was a pleasure beyond worth. He found peace and contentment having the little fellow wrapped safely in his arms, often causing him to quickly drift off into a deep and unperturbed sleep. The business was booming for all concerned. Its reputation was growing and there was quite a waiting list of people wanting to enrol their ‘little ones’. Indeed, so successful had the project become that some of the other daddies, who were very rich men indeed, wanted to invest in further developing the venture. Little boys and girls from all over the country wanted to come and play, which became a bit of a nightmare to try to organise for them all to attend. So, to begin with, and to ease the burden, the group who ran the crèche organised regular outings where everyone could join in. Sometimes it was just days out, at other times they would take over a villa or a camping ground that was for their exclusive use. Mark soon found himself extremely busy with his work as a much-in-demand psychologist, organising events for the expanding business and of course keeping Robbie happy. Soon a mail order company for the clothing, a web site, a full time vacation hotel, camping and caravan sites, were all added to the list of things that came under the banner of ‘Diaper Desires’, the name of the crèche and the company originally set up by the two doctors. It was terrific to see little ones from all over the world come together for unrestricted and non-judgemental activities in the company of so many other ‘littles’ like themselves. The success of the enterprise could have swamped both Paul and Mark but their love for their boys meant that everything was geared around them. They made sure that their tots were at the centre of everything that was done and that it was their needs, little though they were, that were uppermost in any planning. Robbie and Liam were completely unaware of the influence they had on the business. They were unaware that their thickly padded bottoms, loved so much by their daddies, had inspired and were copied by so many others. After only 19 months since baby Robbie had entered Mark’s world, the business inspired by him and his playmate Liam, had helped create an empire which seemed to grow more popular on an almost daily basis. One day they might have to grow up but at least for the foreseeable future Baby Robbie and Little Liam are staying just as sweet as they are... padded toddlers without a care in the world. ***************the end**************

Warning: this chapter contains foul and abusive language. Never More Content – Part 4 Doctor Mark Thompson looked very officious when he arrived at Rob’s ex home. It was a messy, ill-kempt apartment in a very rundown tenement block. His knock was eventually answered by a woman who matched her surroundings perfectly; scruffy, drunk (at 10am), angry and annoyed at being disturbed by this “up himself doctor”. He could see why Rob had wanted to get away and the woman seemed not to care about herself, never mind her only child. Mark persevered with his questions but found the woman’s attitude very aggressive. She appeared to despise him for being a man and seemed only too glad to give someone else the responsibility of her “nasty little shit of a son”. Mark told her he needed her signature and his birth certificate to make things legal and after much argument she eventually found the required official registration of Rob’s birth in a tatty chocolate box under a pile of old photographs. The psychologist observed that there were a couple of shots that had a family of three looking toward the camera. They were smiling and appeared happy. The young, pretty woman was unmistakeably a version of the bloated, foul-mouthed, harridan now sprawled on the sofa in front of him and the tiny baby might be Rob but he wondered who the man was. “Your husband?” He queried, not sure of the reaction his question might get. She laughed in a vicious spiteful way. ”Hardly… a cunt more like. A self-centred little shit… like father… like his fucking son.” The hate was etched on her face as she spat out her anger at them both. It was obvious from her resentment that the wedding never happened. She pointed to herself in the picture. “I used to be pretty,” she nodded as if to confirm that fact as the photo showed a slim and happy young woman. “Oh yes... but both those fucking cunts drained me of everything…” She reached for the almost empty bottle of cheap wine on the coffee table and poured what was left in to her half-empty glass. Once sure the bottle was really empty she continued to rile on about the injustices heaped on her since her partner had left when Rob was barely three years old. Her pain wasn’t just aimed at the man who had betrayed her love… as she raged about her ‘fuckwit boy’ who, through no fault of hers, had turned into the same unthinking, passion-draining cunt like his father. She went on for over an hour but in the end, she signed the papers and Mark left more enlightened as to how young Rob had ended up the way he had. When he returned Rob was just where he left him, sat in front of the TV watching some old movie. Mark couldn’t get over how damn sweet and innocent he looked wearing just his diaper and plastic pants. However, armed with what he knew now, his heart went out to the boy’s past suffering but… even this real empathy couldn’t detract from the obvious fact that… a thick diaper on this particular teenager made him not only look cute, but vulnerable and helpless. It was also true that visually, although it accentuated that particular area, the thick fabric removed any notion of genitalia, made the lad sexless and, like a child, playful without any sexual undertones. Having said that, it was also true that, as his doctor friend Paul had mentioned in many of their past conversations, a padded bottom was like a magnet and all you could do was admire it and give it gentle pat as it went past. The fact that the bulky object underlined the notion that the lad was still just a weak little kid who needed all the protection he could get was weighing heavily on Mark’s mind. He wasn’t a baby and the fact that at 14, Rob was sure to be a sexual teenager with his own needs and frustrations worried him and was an area of sexual consideration. He questioned his own motives and, like Paul, came up with the desire only to have a constant ‘little’ companion. He knew that others wanted their ‘littles’ for other purposes. He couldn’t pretend that people will have their own interpretation of keeping a young lad as a baby but Mark had convinced himself he was only doing it for Rob. He desperately wanted him to know again the pleasure of being with someone who doted on and loved him. There was something wonderfully appealing of having a lad dressed as a toddler. The image stirred his heart more than his loins but there was no denying that the attraction on several levels was indeed very powerful. However, this only made his desire and determination more intense and he just wanted to guard the boy from further harm. One way to change that immediately was to remove the strait jacket. It was both cumbersome and uncomfortable… and it would display a level of the trust he had in the boy. Rob looked up as he entered the room not really knowing what to expect but, strangely, very glad to see the psychologist again. Mark waved a piece of paper in the air and told him that he was legally now his responsibility, however, he could suddenly see the boy struggling to know how to react. Basically his mum had just disowned him but at the same time, even in the short time it had been, he’d got to like this man who was trying his best to make his life better. He liked that someone cared. He decided he’d do his best to help anyway he could so, when the doctor suggested a change of clothes, he happily agreed, which was just as well really as he had messed his diaper a few hours earlier. He guiltily looked up at Mark and told him that he’d had an accident. Mark smiled, rubbed his hand on the top of the lad’s newly shorn head and told him not to worry, that was exactly what a diaper was for. However, he couldn’t help but check that the plastic pants had done their job and prevented any leaks onto his expensive furniture. Relieved that all was well, he patted the boy’s full padded bottom and aimed him towards the bathroom. Unfastened from the strait jacket Rob did something quite unexpected, he threw his arms around the psychologist, hugged him tightly and started to cry. Taken by surprise at this turn of events Mark could only respond the same way. He was overcome at the lad’s emotions and soothed him with gentle stroking and whispered words of encouragement. Eventually, Rob calmed himself and slowly eased away from the doctor, his red eyes and the streaks of his tears a testimony to his true feelings. Mark held the boy out at arms-length for a good look and told him that from that point on no one was going to harm his little boy again. The fact that he said ‘his’ didn’t appear to register with Rob, who slowly shimmied out of his plastic pants aware that there was another problem brewing. The smell was very apparent; Rob looking guilty and embarrassed, whilst Mark was holding his nose in a mock horror kind of way. Both began to laugh as Mark released the tabs on the diaper and let it fall to the floor with a sodden thud. Rob climbed into the shower and Mark washed the boy thoroughly. Back in the spare bedroom, which would from then on be Rob’s Room, Mark fished out another disposable… “Do I have to wear that?” The question wasn’t as angry as the last time but one that showed he was resigned to doing things he really would rather not. “Can’t I wear some of your old clothes?” Mark smiled. “Perhaps we can sort something out later… but right now… this and a onesie are all I’ve got that will fit.” Rob was looking grumpy at the situation. “Besides…” and he let the lad think on his words, “our deal was… and I quote… I’d rather sit here in this diaper with you than go back.” Rob knew he had no argument to that so reluctantly let Mark lotion, powder him (to prevent diaper rash he explained) before applying the thing tightly to the slim, naked groin that was now so perfectly bereft of hair and looking sweetly boyish. All the fuss and bother meant that Rob nearly got an erection, which would have been awkward for them both but the swiftness of the ‘diaper operation’ made the boy’s sudden visible excitement quickly disappear under the tightly packed thick fabric. Deftly, Mark added a clean pair of rubber pants to cover it all. Rob felt silly, he wanted to rebel but… and this was a very strange thing to think at that moment… the impenetrable padding actually felt really warm and comfortable. While he was thinking about that, Mark slipped a clean t-shirt over his head as a finishing touch. Once it was fitted Mark gave Rob a choice… as there were no plans at that moment to go anywhere, he could wear just what he had on or he could put on the new pajamas, which was really one of Liam’s old onesies, over it all. Rob was already feeling nice and warm so decided he’d just put up with what he was now wearing. To begin with the bulky diaper took a bit of getting used to when walking around. It felt huge between his legs but he soon got used to it and he didn’t even notice that the t-shirt had a cartoon dinosaur print, something that he would never have worn as it looked just too childish. However, as he sat back in front of the TV the cartoon channel was on and he sat giggling along to the antics of several colourful characters. His substantial diaper held him tightly and bizarrely he found comfort in the snugness of the fit and the smoothness of the rubber protecting pants. When Mark came in with his tippy tumbler full of warm milk, he took it and sat drinking with barely a thought to how it all looked. Soon, with the milk all gone, he snuggled up in the crook of this wonderful man’s arm feeling completely secure. Mark was beside himself on how well things were going. Indeed, he hadn’t had to do anything to get the lad into the relaxed and accepting state he was already in. The boy’s laughter as he watched TV was a tonic and he appeared to have accepted his new role surprisingly quickly. After Rob had been watching the TV for an hour the psychologist suggested that perhaps it was time for them to begin their real first session. He took him back to his bedroom, pulled the curtains and made everything dark. He turned on some relaxing music and lit a pleasant smelling candle. He also projected a slowly spinning optical image onto the ceiling and asked his relaxed patient to concentrate on it. “Just listen to my voice.” His words came slowly, carefully measured. “Concentrate on the swirling image as you slowly drift off.” He couldn’t help himself as he stroked the boy’s brow. He also couldn’t get over how bloody fantastic the boy was when he was happy and relaxed. Both of them seemed to be enjoying the moment as Rob snuggled himself into the comfort of his bed. His diaper and rubber pants now just as much a part of him as anything else he’d ever worn… and they did feel unbelievably… comforting. The soothing music and the fact that the doctor was making him feel so… good… worked quickly on his mind as he began to mentally float in an unreal world. Mark continued with his gentle approach and before too long Rob was relaxed and completely hypnotised. The psychologist delved into Rob’s childhood and found that his father leaving when he was only three had been the most major trauma in his life. The fact that his father had promised to come back for him, and never did, had built up resentment and trust issues on a massive scale. His mother never got over her ex’s treachery and blamed all men, including her son, for being the selfish rats that they all were. The stories and hurt and humiliation kept on coming. Every opportunity she got his mother blamed him for… everything that was happening to her. She neglected and abused him in many ways but outwardly he appeared no different to 50% of his school mates. Most kids on that particular tenement were in a similar position, so, no one took much notice of another out-of-control or mistreated child. The information came pouring out. It was as if a safety valve had been turned on and the mounting pressure just forced its way out. Mark was astounded at how much anger, from an early age, had built up inside the boy as a result of the constant barrage of abuse from his mother. When he told of how his mum would, in a drunken rage, beat him, he got so agitated that he cried and wet himself. Mark continued until the sobbing boy had got his story out and had, with the doctor’s skilful and reassuring words, begun to feel better again. However, Mark couldn’t help himself, he regressed the boy back as far as he dare to see what reaction he got. He appeared happiest as a two year-old when he had both his mother and father in his life and they had all gone on holiday together. He was the centre of their world and he was loved. Mark decided that was the period in time he would keep in Rob’s psyche. He would build on that memory whilst instilling in the young mind how much he loved wearing his diaper, how he loved his daddy dressing him, how he just wanted to be a little boy and please his daddy. Mark carefully left much more info pertaining to keeping Rob as a happy two year-old. He also left trigger words planted in the back of Rob’s mind so, when he needed him to be a kid again, the mere mention of those special words would instantly transport him back to that happy time. Mark gently brought him back to reality. Rob had no idea what or just how much he’d said but he felt ultra-relaxed after the long session. The curtains were pulled back, the fading sun still brightened the room and Rob suddenly realised that he’d wet himself again. “Oh fuck.” Mark looked at his patient to see what had caused this comment. Rob felt ridiculous as he looked down at his wet and bloated diaper, “I’m just a fucking baby,” he quietly commented to himself. Mark was surprised at the swear words. It made no sense that after all that had been said and done he should now find such words coming out of the mouth of Rob deeply upsetting. He made a decision there and then that as a 14 year-old Rob needed to change. Mark said the trigger words and Rob immediately regressed back to a two-year old toddler. “Daddy is going to change you… you messy little baby,” and he held out his hand for Rob to grab. “Come on then… let’s get you all cleaned up and in a fresh diapee.” In the bathroom Mark lay baby Rob out on the floor as he went off in search of a few extra items. When he returned, he cooed and spoke in baby jargon as he cleaned up his new baby boy. As he lotioned and powdered Rob the giggling was intense. Rob noticed that the boy’s little cock, now with no hair around it, made him even more like a small child. He kissed the boys naked belly before applying the clean diaper and plastic pants and soon had his happy, sweet toddler back to ‘normal’. He then slipped the t-shirt off and fastened him into a short, light blue cotton onesie that had press studs at the crotch to make changing easier. It emphasised his bulging diaper and the plastic pants just showed below the hem of the onesie’s legs and made him look even more like the sweet little baby that Mark was hoping for. It had all happened so quickly that the psychologist now began to doubt exactly what had taken place and how and why it had all come about. Was Rob aware of his new childish status? Why had he not put up an argument… or at least a petulant strop? He couldn’t get over the fact that the sweet little boy, in the cutest of cute kiddie outfits, now playing with his stuffed toys (more items from Little Liam) had, only a few short hours ago, been trying to attack him… the change was just unbelievable. Perhaps, Mark began to hope, that the boy had his own set of needs that just happened to coincide with his own. These thoughts were madness… but… who knew? That evening Mark called upstairs to his friend Paul and Little Liam and told them he had a surprise. The psychologist took ‘Baby Robbie’ on their first trip together, it was only a couple of flights of stairs but it marked a giant leap for both of them. Holding on to his daddy’s hand (Mark had programmed the word into Rob’s vocabulary and he was overjoyed when, a few minutes earlier, he had called him Daddy for the very first time) it was the way things were meant to be thought Mark. Paul greeted them at the door and was happily surprised to see Rob looking so good as a toddler. He’d known of his friend’s plans of course, but the speed at which it had all happened left him staggered. He invited them both in, making a fuss of the new youngster and telling him how cute and how sweet he looked as he introduced him to Little Liam. “Daddy can I play?” Rob looked quizzically up at Mark. “Only if you play nicely with Little Liam… no snatching.” The two young boys contentedly launched into some game that kept them amused for hours. Mark and Paul chatted and began making plans for the future including enrolling Robbie at the crèche and planning a holiday together. Both doctors had been very busy recently and getting away had been almost impossible but now, they planned their lives around their little boys and trips out were high on the list of things to do. The two thick padded little bums crawled and ran around the house the best they could, one minute building blocks, the next coloring in books. They pushed their toy cars around the living room, finding hidey-holes behind cushions and exploring everywhere together. There was even a game of chasing soap bubbles that were blown by Daddy Mark, which only stopped for bottles of milk that their daddy’s fed them. They eagerly sucked on the rubber teats and seemed to enjoy the warm sustenance in the bottle… they couldn’t get enough of it. Once finished the men slipped a pacifier in each of their mouths and lay them down for a nap. Looking like little diapered angels lying next to each other the exhausted boys were asleep in seconds. Daddy Paul had added a little sleeping ingredient to their formula to help the boys calm down from their exciting introduction to one and other. They were going to be little friends together for a long time, or so their daddy’s hoped, and this first meeting had gone off really well. Little Liam had even put an arm around his new friend as they both snoozed wrapped in their thick, comfortable diapers and cartoon onesies, while clutching their favourite soft toy. Paul was delighted that his best friend now had someone to share his life with… just like he had with Little Liam. The two men chatted about what would and could happen but they remained positive that these two sleeping little cuties, the loves of their lives, would always be looked after by their daddies. Indeed, it looked like they were just as excited by the prospect as their little boys had been when they’d found someone else to play with. The two doctors were desperate to keep them young, innocent and free from the hassle of growing up for as long as they could. The constant wearing of their thick diapers would keep them looking and feeling like kids and that’s what their daddies were trying to achieve. The boys had been through a lot during their short lives and perhaps this was a sort of reward - no worries and tons of hugs. As the toddlers cuddled each other whilst they slept, their daddies raised a celebratory glass of wine and clinked them together as they toasted the future. After all, this was just the first day of the rest of the boy’s well-loved and of course… well-padded life. ***tbc***

Never More Content - Part 3 The full enormity of his plight suddenly hit the young lad and from nowhere he started to cry. Not just sobs but a huge roar of pain that welled up inside of him and found an outlet through a heart-rending sound that brought Mark urgently back from the kitchen. Tears were cascading down the boy’s face and Mark did the only thing he thought might help, he sat by his side, put his arm around his shoulders and hugged him. Rob didn’t try to pull away. Such was the enormity of his inner grief that he needed something, someone to care. He buried his tearful head against Mark’s firm stomach and let the emotional pain wrack his body until he could cry no more. Fifteen minutes later and Rob had finally cried as much as he could. The front of Mark’s shirt was sopping wet but he didn’t mind, he was just glad he was there to at least give some comfort to the troubled lad. The red-eyed boy looked up at Mark not really knowing what to expect but was surprised to see a sympathetic and understanding face looking back. “Let’s get you some food… you’ll feel a lot better.” Mark walked to the kitchen as Rob began to feel… safe. It was a strange sensation. He’d attacked this man, attacked a doctor who was trying to help and yet, in all the time he’s been on the streets, and not forgetting his hated and drunken mother, this was the only time in his life he felt… someone cared. Mark slowly fed Rob chunks of pizza and let him drink juice from a child’s sippy cup (he hadn’t wanted an irate lad spilling the liquid all over the place and causing a mess). Rob was still in the strait jacket but he seemed to have come to terms with why this was necessary. He wanted to tell this kind man that he was sorry but was so hungry that apologies would have to wait until his belly was full. He didn’t even mind drinking like a little kid from the non-spill sippy cup that was occasionally pushed towards his lips. In fact, he was quite enjoying the attention and began to wriggle quite contentedly in his diaper. The man really did seem to care but, at the back of Rob’s mind he knew that he couldn’t really trust anyone, there’s always payment in one form or another… his sore and bleeding arse a few weeks earlier had been testament to that fact. However, he was in no position to do much about any demands made on him at that moment so decided to stay alert, bide his time and eat. Once the pizza was all gone Mark began to ask Rob some questions. He made it clear that he wanted the truth and not some made-up mumbo jumbo and that he’d be able to tell if he was lying. “What’s your name?” Rob didn’t think this was a bad question and could see no reason not to give the correct response. “Rob”. “Hello Rob… I’m Doctor Thompson. How old are you?” Now then the questions were getting trickier “18”, he blurted out. “I thought I said no lying,” he shook his head a little to show a sense of disapproval. “Why not try again.” “16”. Shaking his head a little more he said, “Let’s try one more time… and this time Rob… please don’t lie, there really is no need.” “14”, as his eyes darted to the floor in embarrassment, Mark knew he had the real answer. “OK fourteen year-old Rob… we have some decisions to make. What are we going to do with you?” Rob wriggled nervously in the thick padding between his legs unable to look at this man who had been so kind, but who now was going to ‘do’ something with him. Despite his agitation all he could do was wait and see what this doctor man had in mind. “Listen up Rob, these are your options. You decide and we’ll work from then on.” Fucking hell, Rob thought, I’m getting to choose. He wasn’t sure he’d like the options but at least he was going to be given a choice. “Firstly, now you seem OK and fed, you can leave immediately.” Rob liked the sound of that. “Unfortunately, once the restraint has been removed, you’ll have to leave just as you are. Your clothing fell apart in the wash and other than what you are wearing, that’s it.” Rob was less happy with that. “I don’t feel I need to be further responsible seeing as you attacked me and I’ve done all I can to make… “ “What other options do I have?” Rob interrupted, wanting to know all his options before he could commit but didn’t want a lecture in between. “I can call the police.” Rob disliked that idea even more. “You are underage and I can say that I found you unconscious outside, tried my best to revive you and, as I and a friend are doctors, didn’t feel the need to send you immediately to hospital.” He paused to let his words sink in. “It will be up to you whether I mention the attempted knife assault but… the CCTV coverage outside the building should offer substantiation if needed.” Rob gulped at this piece of evidence he hadn’t even thought about but was trying to think fast although he still wasn’t happy with these options. “Are there any other options?” “Well, my final option is this.” He went and looked Rob straight in the eyes. “You can stay with me.” He saw the look of horror flash into Rob’s eyes. “Before you panic, let me explain. I don’t want you for sex. I know, from the doctor’s examination that you have had a terrible experience and that isn’t what I want… or expect.” The nervous wriggling got worse and he was desperate to run somewhere, anywhere he wasn’t sure but the doctor hadn’t finished with his options. “I can see you are nervous but let me tell you what I am proposing and then you can pick your own preference.” Rob’s anxiety hadn’t lessened and the padded sensation was now not helping. He felt trapped and knew he would have to agree to something he really didn’t want to do to get out of this mess. Mark continued trying to put the panic stricken lad at ease. “I’m a psychologist and I am doing work in the area of problem behaviour and psychosocial development. I would like to work with you, and have you as one of my test subjects.” Rob didn’t understand any of that and his blank expression conveyed that back to Mark. “Let me explain. What that means is that you let me…” he nearly said probe, “talk to you and find out what makes a young guy like you… tick.” Rob still wasn’t convinced. “There is no denying that you have, or are having… problems… maybe at home, at school, with friends…” “With everyone.” Rob interrupted. “I see,” said Mark, “well perhaps you can help me understand these problems that you have, and in so doing,” he was trying to keep it simple, “help other kids your age.” He waited a few seconds to let his word take hold. “By me understanding you… it might lead to understanding others like you.” He paused again. “You would be helping…” “What would I have to do?” “Well, I’d need to know a little more about your circumstances. We can do that in sessions where you come to my office and we chat and try out other ways of digging into your psyche.” “My what?” “It’s just a term for your mind... what makes you tick, what upsets you... what…” “My fucking mother.” He spat out with venom that surprised Mark. “Ah. Then I suppose you won’t want to return home.” “No fucking way.” He was adamant. “I’d rather sit here in this diaper with you than go back.” Mark quickly seized the opportunity. “OK, then that’s you final option. You stay with me and I’ll make the arrangements to have you as a patient.” Rob didn’t know what to say. He’d only said it to show his contempt for his mother and hadn’t expected such a response. Mark was quick to follow through. “So, just as you have said, the final option is… you stay with me as a patient. Exactly as you have said… wearing…” he waved his hand towards Rob, “and I will look after all your needs but… and it is a big but… you must not be violent. If you fight me, or anyone else, I will turn you out as you are and not think twice about it.” Mark had put his stern, matter-of-fact, don’t argue face on and it was having an effect on Rob. Rob surveyed his diaper and strait jacket. “I can’t live like this.” “Why not? You lived the first part of your life like that… being fed and dressed. Regard it as a re-birth… a second chance.” Rob looked quizzically at Mark. “Look, apart from me and any other doctors at the hospital I need to include in my research, no one will know… and they are used to seeing people dressed in the same…” “WHAT.” Rob interrupted, “Will I not be staying here with you?” He began to squirm nervously again. “I… I… erm…” “Well my research should be under clinical conditions…” he could see Rob begin to get agitated and tears sprung into the corner of his eyes. “OK, here’s what I'll do. If I can get clearance to have you as an inpatient and say I’d get better observational results from you being with me, I might be able to swing it. How does that sound?” If he could have Rob would have flung his arms around Mark and begged him to let him stay and he’d do anything if that could happen. Rob’s body language said it all and Mark knew he'd got the boy just where he wanted him. He was agreeing to change, or at least be helped to change, and that was a huge step. He wanted the boy to feel safe, secure and to trust him so he stroked his hair and told him not to worry as no harm would ever come to him again. Mark’s heart was singing with the possibilities that he could now imagine but knew that there might be some obstacles along the way. Rob wasn’t sure he quite understood what was being proposed or whether he could go through with all this psycho gibberish but, at that moment, he saw it as his best option. After all, he was going to be off the street, not at home, fed and looked after and all he had to do was… talk to this psychologist. Mark brought up the subject of Rob’s parents… the reaction was loud and hostile. The lad was more than a little agitated and screamed he didn’t want anything to do with that “Fucking woman” and angrily said that he’d run away if he was sent back or she had anything more to do with him. Mark explained that as he was underage he would need some kind of signed release so that Rob would be under his supervision and, if his mum agreed to it, legally Mark would be responsible for him. He took some convincing but eventually Rob gave up his old address but was still worried he’d be returned to the woman who may have given him life but who he now hated with a passion. ***tbc***

Please be warned; in this chapter there are descriptions of sexual violence. They are needed to set the scene for what is to happen later. Never More Content - Part 2 Whilst Rob was sleeping off the sedative Mark was busy organising the lad’s immediate future. He borrowed some essential items from Paul who had used them himself for Little Liam’s benefit but were now no longer needed. He also asked Paul, who was excited about Mark’s plan, to keep an eye on the comatose boy whilst he went to his office to collect a few more things that he thought might be needed for the next part of the young lad’s ‘development’. Once he assembled everything he returned home and checked that Rob was still very much out of it. He checked his diaper to see if he had had any further accidents and was pleased to see that all was clean and dry. However, he was still quite dirty from the time living rough so Mark prepared a bath. He stripped the boy and applied some hair removal lotion around his dick and balls, not that there was much to be seen but Mark was convinced that this was an area that lice and other nasty’s liked to reside. Once the strange smelling cream had done its job and the area wiped free of any pubic hair he immersed him in the warming bubbles and set about scrubbing the lad clean. Whilst in the bath he checked for dreaded head lice, then, using a pair of clippers, gave him a short haircut before drying him off and dressing him as he thought appropriate. First he applied the soothing lotion and then baby powdered to the newly hair-free areas before fastening him into a clean and very thick disposable diaper. Next he added a pair of clear plastic pants because, if the boy had another accident, he didn’t want the diaper to leak all over his expensive furnishings. Finally he secured the lad in a strait jacket so he could offer no physical violence, although, when he came too, he may well have things to express verbally about his new found situation. However, to be on the safe side, Mark had a ball gag to stop that if things got too noisy or out of hand. He wanted the boy to know he was safe, although he realised that it may not look that way to begin with, but he needed to protect himself from any unforeseen reaction. He kept telling himself that his main aim was to reassure the lad of his ‘honest’ intentions, even though those real intentions were still forming in his head. However, having talked to his friend Paul on the subject, and from what he knew from past patients, it was important to keep Rob ‘off-centre’ for as long as possible. He couldn’t know what the ultimate plan was as Mark knew there would be open hostilities about it. He wasn’t sure which way to play it as he wanted the lad to feel safe but in no doubt that his present situation was controlled and decided by someone else… in this case… him. Mark hoped that by Rob wearing such babyish clothing he might not be so aggressive and realise that demanding to leave, dressed as he was, would be both embarrassing and have ‘consequences’. Mark was going to be friendly and understanding but an authority figure… well, that was how he hoped he’d appear. The psychologist had been able to obtain the diapers and plastic pants (as well as other childish items and clothing) from Paul, who was Daddy to Little Liam, a twenty year-old man who had lived as a toddler for the past five years. Liam had developed a passion for wearing diapers as a teenager when his family began to break up. Shy, unassuming and not overly blessed with confidence in the first place, he retreated to a time when all was pleasant and people were benevolent… and being well-padded gave him that feeling of protection and safety. At one of his many visits to his family physician he’d confessed his cravings for being treated as a baby and how it made him feel. Paul, the young, handsome doctor he’d confessed to listened and, to Liam’s undying relief, understood. The doctor had felt sorry for the cute, bewildered and sad looking youth so had obliged him with a place to live out his babyish desires. Paul knew that others might not understand what was happening but, delving back into his own troubled childhood, he liked the idea of looking after a toddler and had to admit that, after their first session together, he was hooked on being as real a daddy as possible to his now ‘Little’ Liam. The boy’s tightly padded bum was a constant delight and the eagerness to happily wear and play in just a diaper or onesie gave Liam all the security he felt he needed. Paul encouraged this total dependency by buying him other childish clothes and soft toys. They watched cartoons together, coloured in books and built Lego and it wasn’t long before Liam fell in love with his new daddy and wanted to be regressed permanently to being a little boy… Daddy’s little boy. As a teen baby and a diaper lover was something they both loved and enjoyed, it seemed a perfect match as their time together was one of happiness and trust. It didn’t happen overnight, for the first two of those five years Liam was a teenager who occasionally wore diapers, although the need to wear them more and more was gaining strength with every session he had with the doctor. Hypnosis and constant reaffirming of the confused teen’s toddler status resulted in the fact that, for the past three years, Paul and Liam had been happy living together as daddy and young son. As a youth Paul had entertained similar yearnings but they hadn’t developed the way Liam’s had. Those early desires the doctor had buried deep in his anxious past were ultimately reawakened and both enjoyed playing their part. He was so pleased when Liam entered his life with a problem that he didn’t see as a problem but a gift, that they immediately became involved and satisfied each other’s requirements. Nothing gave Paul more pleasure than seeing the lad in a thick diaper, covered with glossy waterproof protecting pants, as he scuttled around the house at play. His well-padded bottom became a significant part of what made him who he was, whilst making the overall visual aspect something special as he enthusiastically assumed all the babyish and toddler inspired gifts that Paul heaped upon him. The complete reliance and constant wearing of the thick diaper reinforced the boy’s status as a child; a young, helpless toddler who had to be dressed and even had to be changed. The powerful bond between the two was further enforced by the intimacy of those regular diaper changes. Little Liam’s colourful and childish clothing may have made other people wonder but for him, it was where he wanted to be; a happy and giggling baby with a loving daddy and without a care in the world. However, Paul had work to do and Liam, now totally regressed, couldn’t be left on his own so the doctor set about finding others who had similar young toddlers or shared the same interests. Thankfully, in a large city such as theirs there were plenty of others. Some were like Liam, permanent toddlers, while others just had an interest in being adult babies or having an appreciation for wearing diapers… all loved living in a ‘little’ world where they were protected and cared for without any judgement. In fact, there were so many who were of that inclination that Paul and Mark decided to set up, and finance, a daytime crèche where they could all meet up and play together. Under the supervision of two older ladies, former nurses and retired friends of Paul’s, who just loved looking after their ‘big ‘little’ kids’, it meant that the ‘infant’s’ mummies and daddies could go out to work as normal and their little charges were looked after until collected. The crèche became a focal point for the ABDL community and often there were ten or twelve ‘youngsters’ being looked after on a daily basis. On special occasions, ABDLs from all over the country would descend on the crèche or go on outings and events that the group organised. It was an opportunity for the toddlers to have some fun mixing and playing with new friends, though for the grown-ups it was a chance to exchange thoughts and ideas about their little ones. Mark wanted something similar from this new ‘gift’ that had tried to attack him. He was envious of the loving relationship between Paul and Liam but had never taken that envy to any other stage. He’d appreciated that side of his personality, the one that wanted to have a child of his own but always professed to being too busy for it to happen. However, he convinced himself that the lad had been sent to him for a reason… and that reason he could now see most clearly. Still, the new life he hoped to give the boy; now cleaned, tidy and dressed as he was… was perhaps all he could hope for. Yet, the boy looked younger, cuter and appeared to be even more appropriate for the process that the psychologist now envisaged. He wanted to delve into the boy’s background and free up any bad experiences or traumas that may have led him to the situation he was in at the moment; a young tearaway with little or no real way of dealing with a harsh and often cruel world. He wanted his own ‘Little Liam’ as he’d seen what joy the regressed toddler had brought to his friend: Images of the two young babies/toddlers playing together, dressed in their cartoon onesies or crawling around in just their well-padded diapers, raced through Mark’s mind and really appealed to his blossoming paternal feelings. Unfortunately, there was one possible draw back… how could he get the boy to agree to his ideas. The diapers were an integral part of his plan. It made the wearer dependant, whilst instilling his juvenile status upon the boy. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell the lad his overall strategy, just the bits about trying to help him come to terms with his anger and his homeless situation. Mark knew that if there was an agreement from him to change, then the battle would be half won, so he had to get the lad onside as soon as possible. He wanted to offer him hope and options but at the front of his mind he was also wondering what he would do if his would-be baby rebelled against any form of ‘help’. Mark was now completely obsessed with the idea of having his own ‘needy’ little boy. He knew his desire could possibly lead to complications but was determined to at least try. He wouldn’t have been the first psychologist to use his skill to get what he wanted from a patient. To train an easily receptive brain to do something different from the norm and become a vassal to the whims of the doctor. An interesting concept… however, Mark hoped for a better outcome than that. The words of his mother were always at the forefront of his mind: “You’d never seemed more content” and he hoped to be able to give the boy the same feeling of serenity. As Rob slowly came round from the best and deepest sleep he’d enjoyed for many years he could hear soft, relaxing music playing in the background. He wasn’t sure where he was but things felt vague and strange as he became more and more conscious and aware of his surroundings. He could feel that his arms were trapped in some way and became further alarmed to the fact that there was a figure sat in front of him. Mark had subdued the lighting so most of the room was in shadow and only a dim light fell around the now fully awake boy. As he wriggled to release the restrictions holding him hostage, panic quickly replaced that deep sense of sleep and he began to scream and shout out for help. Mark quickly tried to calm him; reaching out and hushing him, trying to soothe away the panic by softly speaking to the scared little kid in front of him. Thankfully, he didn’t need the ball-gag, which he realised would have sent the wrong message. Eventually, as he had no real option, Rob calmed down and listened to what the man said. He wasn’t sure who he was but he looked a vaguely familiar. “Where am I?” Rob demanded angrily. “What do you want?” Mark smiled now he had the lad’s attention and happily explained what had happened. “You attacked me…” He let his word sink in. “You came at me with a knife and I thought I was going to die.” He thought that if Rob understood he was only protecting himself he wouldn’t be as scared as he was at that moment. “Luckily I managed to disarm you and render you unconscious before any real harm was done.” Rob had no memory of this particular incident at all and shook his head, “Oh,” was his response. “Once I realised I’d knocked you out I couldn’t leave you in the street, so I brought you in here and got a doctor to check you over”. Rob nodded trying to recall just what had gone on. “Unfortunately, as he was checking on your cuts and bruises… you attacked him also…” he waved his hand gesturing towards the strait jacket, “that’s why I have put you in that… I don’t know how violent you might get again.” Rob was listening and trying his best to make some sense of his actions but couldn’t. “Erm… I’m sorry… I don’t remember… er…” Mark let him think on things for a few seconds. Rob became aware of his lack of clothes. “Where the hell are my pants?” He caught sight of his groin. “What the fuck am I doing in these fucking things…?” And he looked in disgust at his diaper and plastic pants. “Relax,” Mark tried to reassure him, “you pissed and shit yourself.” He let the words sink in. “You were a mess. Your clothing stunk. You stunk. The doctor couldn’t see all your bruises because of the filth… so I just cleaned you up. This was all I had that…” Rob was angry and frustrated. “Why?” Although he couldn’t remember attacking the man sat in front of him, his memory of the past few weeks came flooding back. He recollected angrily leaving home and his first night on the streets. He painfully relived the fact that his few possessions and what little money was in his pockets had all been stolen by some men who beat him up without a second thought and left him bleeding, hurting and with nothing. He only had what he stood up in, torn and scruffy though they were he was lucky to still have them as he went looking for help. No one wanted to know. He couldn’t return home, not after the things he’d called his mother (and she’d screamed back at him) and he had no friends or relatives he could count on. He was afraid and alone but he had to survive. On the second night, three druggies had caught up with him and offered him some pills. He told them he had no money but they just said it didn’t matter and gave them to him anyway. He wanted to escape from the situation he’d found himself in and here at last were people who understood his predicament. He quickly swallowed the offered drugs before they changed their minds. He was offered a place to crash out and invited back to their hovel and it was there, as he slipped into a chemical feeling of euphoria, that he was raped. Although he was high it was still fucking painful. All night the three took turns at his young virgin arse… so while he screamed and cried, they laughed and fucked. Eventually, they fell asleep and he was left with a bleeding arse full of cum and with his hands tied to a metal pipe. He couldn’t get free and when they woke up, they got high and, laughing like hyenas, fucked him all over again… before throwing him out. Everything ached and hurt and he hated the world. He was starving but no one offered any help at all. After what he’d just endured he was scared of people, worried that all they would do was abuse him, so he kept away from others. He managed to survive picking up scraps where and when he could and sleeping anywhere there wasn’t anyone else. He was desperately afraid but knew he couldn’t go back home. That was nearly four, scary weeks ago and he was starving. He hadn’t eaten a proper meal for… well… he was trying hard to remember when the man still talking asked if he liked pizza. He returned from his agonising memories and realised he hadn’t heard much of what the man had said but the offer of food had suddenly jolted his mind. He nodded and wriggled on his thickly padded butt. ***tbc***

Never More Content - Part 1 Rob had been with Doctor Mark Thompson now for around 19 months. It was a relationship that, at the beginning, neither could have foreseen the outcome. However, Rob has never been happier; his days are now filled with fun, adventure and that rarest of gifts… love. For these last few months he had learned that he didn’t have to fight for everything, he didn’t have to worry about anything and, in fact, he didn’t have to think at all, Daddy would see to his every need. Rob was only 14 when he tried to mug the rich-looking man who was getting out of his BMW. His stomach was empty and he was desperate because for the last few weeks he had been living rough on the streets. He’d had to learn how to survive quickly since he ‘left’ home and he wasn’t doing too well. Opportunities to find food, shelter and safety weren’t as easy to come by as he had hoped they would be. In fact, he hadn’t had a decent meal or a place to stay since he’d slammed the door and swore at that drunken bitch… his mother. Recently, his home life had deteriorated badly, he’d been expelled from school because of his mounting violent streak, he fought against any form of authority, he hated the world and everyone in it and he needed to get OUT. However, living rough was even worse. When he wasn’t being offered drugs, he was the victim of those desperate drug addicts who saw him as an easy target. He carried the cuts and bruises to prove it as he was no match against the rougher element he met. His stomach ached with hunger and he urgently needed to get some money and this smart, swanky, well-to-do guy appeared to have loads. In the past he'd begged for money but people either took no notice, as if he didn’t exist or worse, screamed abuse at him for daring to ask for help. The only way he’d found effective was to threaten, then he was listened to and the sharp 8” blade he now carried certainly got most people’s attention. He waved it at the BMW owner and demanded money but his threat was swiftly countered by a speedy kick from the man that sent the knife spinning through the air and a follow up kick to the would-be mugger’s head that knocked him to the ground. It all happened so fast that Rob didn’t know what hit him until he regained consciousness… then things really began to get weird. Forty year-old Mark Thompson is a man who knows what he wants. He left school and university with an armful of top class awards, flourished quickly in his specialised field and found the demanding intensity of his martial arts programme the perfect way to relax, keep fit and stay alert. In the dark he hadn’t realised the age of his assailant, all he saw was a body rushing towards him and a fleeting glimpse of a steely pointed object being jabbed in his direction. His training took over and in a nanosecond the would-be assassin was dropped to the ground unconscious. As he checked the prone body he realised that the youth lying at his feet was in need of some treatment. He reached down and easily picked up the grubby, thin urchin and carried him to his apartment just a few yards away. The boy was filthy. His clothes were torn and tattered whilst the bruises and cuts on his hands and face made Mark wonder what the poor little guy had been through recently (apart from a kick to the head that is). He got the lad into his home and started to inspect the comatose body now he had light to see just what his injuries were. He removed the lad’s thin jacket and t-shirt and saw that there was a very bad, festering cut on his arm that appeared to have gone untreated for some time. He removed the boy’s trainers and jeans and saw that he was just a mass of bruises and, strangely perhaps, he felt sorry for his would-be mugger. The boy was still out for the count so Mark called a friend of his who was a doctor and asked him to come around and check the boy out. He arrived minutes later from an apartment in the same block just as Mark had finished trying to wipe as much grime away as possible and the lad was beginning to regain consciousness. Although not fully compos mentis Rob realised that something was going on and he was being touched… so he lashed out. Although there was hardly any force to the blow he managed to cuff the doctor at the side of his head and was about to throw another punch when Mark grabbed his arms and pinned him down. Despite being naked and having little strength he tried to fight back and break away from his captives. Alas, he was no match for them and a quick injection from the doctor calmed him down and he drifted off into unconsciousness again. Once he’d gotten over the brief commotion Paul, the doctor, carried out his examination and treated the bruises and cuts on the pale thin body as best he could. His diagnosis was more malnutrition than any great injury but recommended that the large cut on the boy’s arm was kept under scrutiny for any infection. He gave the boy various injections that would help him recover and suggested that Paul feed the lad up before letting him go… or call the police… or do whatever he was going to do with his young attacker. “He’ll be out for about 12 hours,” the doctor informed Mark. “So, is there anything else… or can I get back to Little Liam? I left him sitting in front of the TV watching the Cartoon Channel.” He saw Mark’s raised eyebrows, “Yes again,” he said with a shrug of the shoulders, “it’s his favourite.” Before he left Mark asked Paul to check to see if the lad had been sexually abused. Paul checked the boy’s anus and said that it was inflamed and torn and he reckoned that the lad must have been the subject of a vicious attack, and had probably been raped… and perhaps more than once was his diagnosis. Mark sighed “Poor little fellow.” Mark looked down at the lad once more and began to wonder what had driven this sorry looking soul to this point. He was even worried that if he threw him out and back onto the streets, the boy would be an easy victim of some unscrupulous druggies or bullies. He wondered what he could do to help; after all, he was a trained (and rather expensive) behavioural psychologist, perhaps he could help sort the lad out. As he speculated he suddenly became aware of a strong aroma and gathered that the boy had just urinated onto his leather sofa. He quickly grabbed the nearest thing to hand to mop it up, which led to the lad’s thin t-shirt, pants and jeans soon soaked with stinking piss. Rob was unaware of what had happened as Mark took these smelly objects and tossed them into the washing machine. Then he realised he couldn’t leave the lad naked so went off to find something to cover him with. Mindful that he needed to protect his sofa from any further accidents he found a large towel and some safety pins. Returning to the sleeping boy he fitted it like a diaper around the lad’s waist. Whilst pulling the towel up between the lad’s legs and fastening it tightly a sudden shiver ran down Mark’s spine. He caught his breath at this moment of recognition. His mind catapulted him back to the last time he’d done this - it was during his final exams in his last year of senior school. A huge trauma had recently affected Mark and he remembered waking up some mornings to find he’d unconsciously wet the bed. The trauma had been the dramatic death of his father in an explosion at the chemical plant where he worked, which had killed 17 others and had devastating consequences to all concerned. Finding he’d wet the bed at his age was another upset he found difficult to deal with and although he and his mother were very close, he didn’t want to burden her at this time with what he saw as a ‘stupid childish’ problem. Each night he’d diaper himself with a towel just in case he wet again and every morning he’d wake to find it soaked but on the plus side… at least the bed and bedding were reasonably dry. The pressure of exams and the death of his loving father, who had encouraged him to do well and to work hard, had ultimately had a distressing effect. He wanted his dad to be proud of him so worked exceptionally hard to pass his exams. The hours he put in to revision, the empty loss he felt inside, the sadness he could only imagine his mother was going through, all just built and built until it found some kind of release. It was just over a week that he’d been diapering himself when his mom found out. It was early one Monday morning when she entered his bedroom to wake him and found him sat on the edge of his bed in the soaked makeshift diaper. His youthful looks were etched with anguish as he shrugged not even trying to hide his obvious shame. She hugged her bed-wetting son and told him that he shouldn’t have to carry that worry on his own as she was there for him… for anything… and everything. Between them they would meet head on and solve any problem that came up. They had always been close and, like when his dad was alive, there were few secrets in this loving family. He was relieved that he didn’t have to pretend to her anymore and, as she sat beside him, both cried in their mutual sorrow. Once the tears were almost dried up she asked if he needed any help with his diapers. Apart from the soggy one, which at that moment was hanging heavily between his legs, he wasn’t sure what she meant. He gave a side-long look at his sympathetic mother and asked if she was offering to change him. She giggled, relieving what could have been a tense situation, and put her hand to her mouth as if she’d said something really stupid. They both laughed. “If I thought you needed it, of course I would, but you seem to be coping OK.” She looked into his eyes reassuringly. “But,” and she looked down at the sagging diaper, “don’t forget the other things… you don’t want to be getting a diaper rash at your age.” She paused to check he was still OK with what she was saying, “What I meant was, do you need me to get you anything?” He realised she was correct… it had all been a bit haphazard. He hadn’t been taking care of that side of his diaper hygiene, just having a shower then dressing for college… and his crotch and bum were raw and beginning to itch. His mom bought him some more appropriate disposables, plastic pants and assorted lotions and powders, it was like when he was a kid again and she loved the diversion from her own problems. One evening when Mark was getting ready for bed and applying his night time protection his mom came in and asked him if he recalled that he went through a similar period of bed-wetting when he was four. He remembered but, perhaps surprisingly, not in a negative way… it had all been so normal. She told him that he’d been potty-trained for two years when, just before he started school, he started to wet again. “Stress,” she said as if it was the answer, “you were very scared of leaving me and going to school.” His mom went on to tell him about the fun she and his father had with diapering their slightly older, but still little scamp as he played. “Wearing a diaper never stopped you doing anything. You never seemed to worry about it.” Indeed, from the moment it had been suggested that he needed to go back into diapers to save the bedding and loads of washing, he seemed to accept it. His dad was determined that he shouldn’t get distressed by being back in a diaper so had gone out of his way to be positive when his son was wearing them. This was partly due to the fact that he had also wet the bed as a child and his father, Mark’s grandfather, had given his own son such a horrible time about it; ridiculing and chastising him all the time. Mark’s dad was determined that if that type of misfortune should happen to his own son he would never be made to feel guilty about it. In fact, his dad, and mom to a certain degree, had loved having their 4 year-old baby back. They loved him scampering around the house in just a diaper and it never bothered young Mark because he was always being told it was normal as it was no more than just another style of underwear. The truth was that both his parents had loved his sweet little padded butt getting into all the things a 4 year-old got into. His dad had made it into a game for Mark and bought special plastic covers for his son’s diapers. Soon the little imp was running around in brightly coloured pants, that although made the padding thicker, didn’t seem to hinder his ability, or confidence, in getting around. At school there was no difficulty as he wasn’t the only one still in diapers and while at home, he seemed to prefer to wear little else. Even though it started as just a night time precaution, Mark was often up and dressed first thing in a morning before his parents and he’d have fastened himself into a diaper for the day… no matter what he was doing or where he was going. Both his mom and dad thought this was the cutest thing and Mark himself seemed to love each new design that was slipped over his diaper… often choosing the colour and pattern that his dad offered him each day. He wore all that extra padding from 4 years until he was almost eight, when, after a stay-over with his friend Danny, he'd asked his mom to buy him some big boy pants for when he started school again. Although his parents were sad that their little boy had grown up, they didn’t want to keep him dressed that way if he it made him unhappy. As his mum told him this story, parts of that time came flooding back to him and he remembered it as a period when he had never been happier. There was a great deal of loving attention from both his mom and dad and he recalled the constant picking up and hugging by them both. “We just loved patting your thick diapered butt.” His mom had said with a reminiscing smile, “and you… well you’d never seemed more content”. Suddenly those words struck him “never more content” and he knew exactly what he could do with his young, would-be assailant. His mind was suddenly dazzled with the possibility of this new enterprise. As the boy slept on oblivious of the thoughts that were now so appealing to Mark, the psychologist regretted chucking the lad’s clothing into the wash. As the final spin-cycle came to a stop he realised that any clues to his identity would probably have been washed away. The damp bundle of clothes revealed nothing at all. In fact, only the boy’s jeans appeared to have held together, the rest had simply dissolved to mere bits and pieces not even fit for rags. Finding out any information about the boy was now down to what he was prepared to reveal. He wasn’t sure if this would be a problem but looking down on the lad, wrapped in such a thick diaper, he thought it all might be worth the effort. He had this grand plan developing in his head as he slipped upstairs to his doctor friend to tell him about his intentions and to borrow some items that he thought would come in useful. ***tbc***

Confession Update Part 5 At around 5.30 in the morning I found a tatty old pair of shorts and an equally distressed T-shirt waiting next to my own suit and shirt and briefs. I was told that if I wanted, I could go along with Michael and work with him on the site. I was not only half asleep (until that moment they hadn’t told me exactly what the job was) I was confused but thought I’d remind them that all I’d ever done was office work so a building site was not really me. However, I was convinced to at least to give it a try (after all I was jobless) and before long, I was dressed in those shorts and t-shirt and, for what felt like the first time in a while, back in a regular pair of briefs. I was told that a diaper would probably be very unpleasant after working on the site all day because it would ride up and tangle or bunch up uncomfortably. They’d even found a pair of boots my size (but don’t ask me where from) and, by 6am, I was suddenly heading out with Michael for my first day as a manual laborer. I hadn’t known that Michael was in fact the site manager so he had me assisting the more established workers. There were about twenty men in total, all sexy in their own way but, even though I might have thought about it for a few minutes, sex on the job was not on the cards. Yes, ‘those feeling’ were now at the forefront of my mind but… I had to work hard as the men were pretty demanding and had a surprisingly good work ethic. For me it was back-breaking, physical work and left no time to fantasize about sex, diapers, plastic pants or being a pampered baby. Even though I had no idea how long the work would last… at least I was employed and this change in direction would be a surprise to my parents… when I eventually got home. *** As I carried bricks, mixed cement, loaded scaffolding etc. all I could think about was – what changes in my life a couple of days had seen. I have to admit that I’d gone from the sublime to the ridiculous in the space of the last 24 hours; from a diaper wearing baby to a butch, manual construction worker. The work was hard and later, when Michael eventually dropped me off at my own home, I was just a knackered, sweaty and dust covered version of a guy I used to be. When I walked through the door my parents were very surprised at the turn of events and, after initially being cold about not letting them know precisely what I was up to, said they were proud – yes PROUD - of me. They were impressed that I’d done everything possible to find myself work in such difficult times. Needless to say, I didn’t tell them exactly what it was that I had done to get this particular job (and would be more than happy to do again). Strangely, my dad seemed to have a new respect for me now I was laboring and my mum didn’t seem too worried about the dust and dirt that followed me about. It was very strange because, up in my own bedroom that night I had a desire to slip into a diaper and happily continue what had started back at Tony’s place. However, I was far too tired and the thought that I’d have to be up and out of the house myself by 6am made me reconsider my priorities. I slept in just a pair of boxers… and I was OK with that but knowing I could pull on a pair of pull-ups or slip into a diaper anytime I wanted… and… feel OK about it… that was a terrific place to be. *** On the second day on the site, Michael told me I was to assist BB, as he needed someone to run and fetch for him while he was stuck up a scaffold doing some roofing. I had not met him on my first day but now – WOW – I was happy to help him out in any way. He was 35, had been married, was built like a brick-shithouse and filled his denim cut-off shorts and AC/DC t-shirt so well I was completely in awe of him. Between bringing him either a hod full of shingles, tar or buckets of fresh cement, we were kept busy so small talk was minimal. However, I couldn’t help but notice that even Michael would have to take second place in a contest between these two in looks and physical appearance. With his thick hairy legs holding up such a fantastic body as he stretched, twisted and bent to do his work all I kept thinking was that I wished he was gay like me. Thankfully, I noticed the waistband peeking out above his shorts; there was just a hint of yellow plastic pants - for me that was instant recognition of another AB or DL. My gaydar ‘pinged’ in my mind but of course, this was a stupid generalisation… though on this occasion it proved to be correct. Once the possibilities were sorted in my head, and I assumed that Michael had placed me with him specifically, I flirted with BB and dropped hints, which I hoped left him in no doubt as to my intentions. Some of the horny things he said in response to my teasing and joking left me all hot and bothered; mind you, the continuing hot weather and physical exertion of the job were not helping much either. *** Over the next few days I got to know BB better and we got along fine. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that Michael had put us two together for a reason. On the Friday after work he suggested we celebrate my week’s work with a drink at a bar in town. I was so excited that this hunk wanted to spend time with me that I immediately said ‘Yes’… and that knowing smile of his promised even more. I hadn’t seen anything of Tony since I’d started work and, because he was working on a different building and supervising all the other new builds, I hadn’t see that much of Michael either. However, earlier Tony had packaged up all my stuff from Auntie and Michael had brought it to work for me to take home. I hadn’t had time to get the stuff sorted but, before I went out that night I thought I’d better hang it up or at least put it away until I was ready to resume my diaper interests. Tony had not only parcelled up Auntie’s gifts, he’d also added two pairs of cloth diapers, several disposables and two pairs of plastic pants. I was beside myself with happiness and once again marvelled at the generosity and understanding of a man who had changed my life around in such a short span of time. *** I thought, as I’d noticed BB’s plastic pants he may well have been wearing a diaper underneath, although I hadn’t seen any noticeable padding, it gave me the opportunity to wear a diaper again and also show support for his ‘fetish’. I pulled on one of the disposables, selected the pink pop-studded plastic pants and shimmied into my jeans, the look was tight but I didn’t appear overly bulky. A pink and pale blue polo shirt finished my ensemble. With a kiss to mum and a wave to dad I told them not to wait up as me and the gang (I told them that a group of us from work were all going out together) planned on being out late. There was a new found confidence in me now and I was no longer scared of meeting, and reacting to, other people. Although I was still relatively shy, in comparison to what I used to be like only a week ago, I was a different guy. BB and I chatted almost nonstop; his marriage broke up because he was gay and didn’t like pretending to his wife, who had suspected his real inclinations herself. He said that he hadn’t acted on his real feelings during the marriage, which he’d found difficult, but once the divorce was through, had gone at it like a man possessed. He’d had a relationship with a man named Peter that had lasted 6 months but that had literally petered out and he realised he wasn’t for him. BB, which had been his nickname since he was a kid actually stood for Big Boy, the name his dad had called him almost from birth. Apparently, his dad had been very impressed with his new son’s ‘equipment’ and the nickname was his way of being both boastful and proud of his boy. *** I asked him about the plastic pants. He seemed shocked, and a bit embarrassed that I knew. I told him about seeing them peeking over his rather sexy cut-offs and I’d been fantasising about them ever since. He smiled a sort of relieved smile and I opened the top button on my jeans a little so he could see I was wearing my plastic pants. That was my opportunity to talk about me and explain my interest in diapers and stuff. He seemed impressed with my journey from my brother’s plastic protection to my own diaper love and wasn’t thrown at all when I told him about my recent photo shoot. In fact he said he couldn’t wait to go online and see the results… maybe he could get me into a diaper. He hadn’t noticed that I was wearing one but, in my mind at least, he’d be finding out later on. His thing was simply plastic. He loved the feel, the smell, the sheer pleasure it gave him to wear an item of plastic clothing. He wasn’t an ABDL, or so he said, but just keen on having that particular material next to his skin. It was getting late and he suggested we went off to a club but I have to tell you, after a week of manual work, especially as I was using muscles I didn’t even know I had, I was fairly knackered and the last thing I wanted was to jig around a dancefloor. I suggested, if he was up for it, to go back to his place and see what happened. He liked that idea. *** When he shuffled out of his clothes and was standing all but naked in front of me I was once again in absolute awe. Yes awestruck because even in a pair of clear plastic pants and nothing else he looked magnificent. Tight muscles, six-pack abs, pecs I could have nibbled on all day but his dick, wow, behind the clear piece of plastic his dick was thick, dark and shiny. It was if someone had poured a bottle of baby oil all over it. The slick look and large flared helmet making me do a double take as I wondered if I could accommodate such a wonderful piece of work. I was lying on his bed in just my pink plastic pants and diaper, which he appeared to like the look of as I watched, through his see-thru pants, him begin to grow. His dad had named him well and my own diapered restriction was screaming for release. He climbed on the bed beside me and we kissed for the first time and any thoughts of sleep were instantly abandoned. *** Saturday morning found me curled up in his manly embrace. I could see my diaper and plastic pants hanging from the bedhead but he was still wearing his. We stayed in bed for most of the day and somewhere, in amongst the rumpled sheets and condoms, you’d probably find my virginity. I loved the fact that this gorgeous manly man had taken control. If I’d been in any doubt, the last few days had proved that I liked to be dominated, led and controlled and as BB kissed and stroked my body, I knew that I would do absolutely anything for him and he could do anything to me. As he had things to do, we got up about 3pm and I began to get dressed. The disposable was too far gone to be used again but the resourceful BB went to the bathroom and returned with a thick hand towel. He got me to lay out and deftly pinned me into his version of a homemade diaper. The love and care he put into it left me speechless and I just intuitively sucked on my thumb and let him get on with it. He snapped me back into my exceedingly tight pink plastic pants and admired his work as I gave him a little wriggle. This inspired him to look up Auntie Mary’s site and see if the new images were online yet. To my surprise they were… and BB was absolutely bowled over by all the kinky gear I was wearing. He kept pointing at some of the plastic stuff saying he’d like to see us both in that… or how cute I looked in a huge thick diaper and nothing else. All the while he was looking at the site I was standing at his side and his hand was constantly stroking my bulky bottom. *** When I got home I called Tony to tell him and Michael about my ‘fabulous’ night and asked them if they’d planned the whole thing. Tony proclaimed his innocence but I couldn’t tell if Michael was there and enjoying his own satisfaction at a job well done. I wasn’t complaining though and mentioned that both BB and I had seen the site and was very impressed with the layout. Tony asked me to get in touch with Auntie Mary as she wanted a word. I asked what about but he said he didn’t know but perhaps she had other designs she thought I might like to pose for. I told him I’d call her as soon as I’d finished speaking to him, which I did after thanking him over and over again for what he’d done for me over the past week. He was happy that I was happy and that was more than enough and hoped that I wouldn’t forget them both now I had a new ‘play mate’. I told him I’d still like to play with them sometimes if they were up for it… and we left it at that. Auntie Mary asked me to pop in to her shop the next time I was passing, although the way she said it I assumed she meant asap. Tony and Michael were out when I arrived so I just called in to her baby clothes shop to see what assistance I could be. Her nanny gear was gone and she was dressed as normal and as such didn’t appear so controlling, but she still radiated authority and I felt like a little kid in her presence. She told me that the site, although it had only been open a couple of days, was doing very well and complimented me for my ‘starring’ ability. She was happy to shower praise on me saying that every image was getting viewed many, many times and that I’d become a bit of a hit. I felt quite proud and was happy that everything had gone so well. She said that orders had come flooding in... the blue and white satin sailor suit with the plastic lining being a particular favourite with her clients… but that she also had some other requests that I might be interested in knowing about. *** Apparently, I was in demand - not just the clothes I’d been wearing but me… I was asked if I was also available. There was a small fan club that Auntie Mary knew about and they wanted me to… well to be their baby. I looked at her doubtfully but she just nodded and explained what it was they wanted from me. There were a group of men and women, but mainly men, who would pay for me to be their ‘baby’ for a few hours. I’d be dressed, changed, fed, burped… in fact all the things you do with a baby… they wanted to do to me. I looked at her in shock as she went on to tell me how much they were willing to pay for this ‘privilege’. She told me that most of them would buy just about anything if they knew they would have me to dress up and ‘play’ with. She went on to say that it could be a bit of a money making project for both the shop and me if I wanted to take up the option. I felt like I had to say yes, even though in my head it was a definite no-no. However, thinking I’d thought of a brilliant way to get out of it I said that of course I’d do it, only if Maddy was doing it as well. I thought that Auntie wouldn’t let her daughter do it in a million years but she smiled and said that Maddy was already out on her first assignment. I couldn’t believe it but, as I said I do it if she did, I had little option but to agree. *** As I was now in relatively full time work Auntie Mary had to plan any visits around my evenings if it was local or weekend if I had to travel. Some people wanted to use the nursery from the photo-shoot so Tony made his studio available for those occasions, which often included Maddy and me together. All the arrangements were left to Auntie and she would either give me a pile of clothes to take with me or the clients would already have whatever they wanted me to use… either way, the shop was doing a roaring trade and she had to set on another two workers to help with the constant demand. After that intense first occasion I was hoping to see more of BB but he was happy to keep it, to begin with at least, very low key, after all we were working together during the day. Suddenly, from when I had nothing but time on my hands, I was now so busy I hardly had time to take a breath. In between all that, my ‘fans’ had made request of new designs they wanted to see me in so, Auntie and her staff were even busier and I was needed to model each item. Tony pointed the camera once more and my rubber covered butt gleamed as the latest piece of sexy but babyish fashion was photographed for posterity… and Auntie’s site. I also knew that later that evening my naked, well shaved, oiled and powdered body would be wrapped in someone’s idea of what ‘Baby Danny’ should wear. Most of the clients (Auntie was very clear about how I should refer to them) wanted to be called Daddy or Mummy, and they would treat me just as a little baby. Others wanted to join in games, also dressed in a similar way as myself or watch cartoons together. Auntie was clear that any client wanting anything sexual from either Maddy or me wasn’t going to get it... but that didn't stop them from asking or offering a fortune for a different kind of 'privilege'. Tony was amazed at the way things had taken off and congratulated me on being so damn popular. I pointed out it was all down to him and his scruffy looking diaper cover. That's what had drawn my attention so it was his fault entirely. He laughed and nodded in agreement but pointed out that it was my interest in looking up his pant leg that had led us to talking… so he couldn’t… and wouldn’t take all the credit. Working with BB and getting together for the occasional night of plastic fun made me incredibly happy. Being part of an ABDL community and being in such demand meant that my bank account was also doing nicely, whilst I just had to dress up in some wonderful babyish creations - my life had never been better. The End

Confession Update Part 4 Once I was over my slight nervousness about asking questions the conversation turned into an open, funny and frank discussion. Don’t get me wrong, I was fascinated by their relationship but, as we talked, they helped me discover more about myself. For instance: Why had I lost my job? Because I was frustrated and angry. Why was I frustrated and angry? Because I didn’t like my job. But why now? (I had told them that I liked working in the Call Center… I actually quite liked the idea at least of trying to help people.) I don’t know. Could it be you’re frustrated because you have shut off your ‘diaper’ outlet? Mmmm… I don’t know. Could it be that pulling on a diaper was something you so enjoyed doing… that now… without it…? It did get me thinking and as I finished my pasta I realised that these guys were definitely onto something. I measured my few experiences against their mass of experience and came to a similar conclusion to them… don’t run your life for other people’s benefit - to the detriment of your own. The fact that I was frustrated at being gay and not having a boyfriend… or even a friend I could talk to… was also getting me down. Actually, since I’d met these two guys, only a few hours earlier, I’d never been so happy, well, with the possible exception of when I discovered my younger brother’s plastic pants. Not only had they welcomed me into their home, they had literally given me the instruments I needed to ‘mend’ myself. I was back wearing diapers, had a photo-shoot to look forward to where I’d get to wear all manner of babyish outfits and, no less importantly, I’d had two gigantic orgasms without so much as touching myself. I didn’t see how things could get any better. *** Once the plates had been cleared away, we sat and chatted some more before Tony presented us with dessert. I was full but soft ice cream, covered in strawberry syrup and with butterscotch mousse at the bottom of the large glass tumbler, which were all my favorites (how did he know), had me strangely drooling so, how could I refuse? I was overjoyed that they’d gone to such trouble… but before I had time to express my thanks… a large dollop of soft but sticky ice cream splattered against my cheek. I looked to see Michael armed with a second spoonful of the stuff aimed at his daddy. He let it go and the cold pudding exploded on his daddy’s chest. At the same time Tony had unleashed a second splodge of the stuff towards me, which hit me squarely in the eye. Thankfully, I was able to just scoop it off my face and eat it before I also loaded up my spoon and in rapid succession sent the stuff flying at my two hosts. Spoonful after spoonful flew through the air and hit their targets, not necessarily with any accuracy, but with plenty of laughter, giggling and promises of a severe tickling as a result of direct hits. Bits of my naked body, which were still exposed, were soon greasy with the remnants of the stuff… thankfully my bib and plastic pants took most of the sweet assault. *** After the ‘fight’ was over we all looked a mess but were still in a happy place as we’d laughed so much. My mind was not on my lack of employment but on how wonderful this father and son were together… and with me… a complete stranger. However brilliant my dad is… and he is… I could never see him having this much fun and I began to long for a similar relationship myself. It was then into the shower where Michael stripped me out of my splattered protection. In fact, I stripped Tony, Tony stripped Michael, and we all crowded together in the fairly spacious shower, where we had equally as much fun cleaning each other up. To begin with we licked each other clean of as much pudding as we could, which was also a fun and sexy thing to do before we finished off with a shower itself. Again, my hope was that all this licking, touching and erotic sensations that coursed through my body might just turn into something a bit more physical… but it didn’t. They noticed my stiff cock, in fact they were both incredibly well-blessed in that department themselves, but sex, unlike the pudding, was not on the menu. *** Once dried and back in the bedroom I realised how late it was and, as Michael had to be up early for work (he had to be out of the house and on his way by 6am) it was decided it was time for bed. Tony got his son ready; baby oil was rubbed in and powder liberally sprinkled before he applied a very thick cloth diaper, which he pinned on before fitting him into a pair of opaque plastic pants. Seeing this soft giant being treated as a little kid was brilliant to watch and there was fun and respect in the procedure that certainly got to me. Again there was that touch of envy which I wished I could lose. “OK Danny... oops sorry Daniel… your turn,” Tony patted the space next to his son and I crawled over to it in eager anticipation. After a brief discussion between the three of us, and in which my opinions were completely ignored, it was decided that, for this night at least I was to be double diapered. The two thick disposables were incredibly bulky and when they were topped by a similarly opaque pair of plastic pants like Michael’s my groin looked like a well blown up balloon… but Tony hadn’t finished. He produced a pale pink shorty onesie, which I had to climb into. There were no buttons or studs at the crotch as it was all one piece but the final touch was a zip up the back that held everything in. My arms were covered but my legs were bare and the image was like I should have been deposited straight into a large crib complete with a large pacifier. However, Michael rolled back the blanket, climbed in and patted the space for me to crawl in next to him. Meanwhile, Tony had pulled on a disposable and a pair of rather fetching navy blue plastic pants with ruffles across the bottom and climbed in next to me. As I settled between them they both hugged and cuddled me, which made me feel wanted and special. They were genuinely wonderful, thoughtful people who seemed to love each as well as others. Despite my dick desperately trying to get hard and gain some kind of relief, the bulkiness was a barrier to any external motivation. However, when Tony and then Michael both kissed me goodnight, I did what I’d done before and filled my diaper with my splurge. With the relaxing aftermath of such an intense orgasm I was grateful that I was where I was and couldn’t help thinking what a day it had been. I was happy and unbelievably content. *** I slept in short bursts. When I partially awoke and moved, even slightly, a comforting hand wrapped itself around me and I was drawn into a friendly cuddle. Our generous diapers felt really good rubbing up against each other and I enjoyed the thick, fullness between my legs. At one point I was desperate to go to the bathroom but I realised I didn’t want to disturb these two slumbering hunks. I waited for as long as I could but eventually I had no option but to let it flow. My double diaper did its work and the relief, followed by the warm glow soon had me drifting off again. When I woke up Michael had already left for work and I could hear Tony organising breakfast. My soggy diapers weren’t so comforting now and I was relieved to see that when I got up there were no damp spots where I’d slept… well done plastic pants. However, I couldn’t reach the zip on the back of the onesie so had to rely on Tony to release me from my cotton prison. Before he did, we sat at the table and had coffee and some bagels and chatted about what I could expect at the shoot. He’d been reading an email from Auntie Mary, which said that as well as stills shoot, she had one of her friends to come and capture various scenes on video. Apparently, these little movies would be made available to those who were members of her site or who had ordered goods. They would be just short, fun little set up scenes that, she said, would add value to the site by offering that little extra incentive. I was a bit nervous about this turn of events and, if it wasn’t for the feeling I’d be letting Tony and Michael down (and risk losing their friendship) I may well have called a halt to proceedings there and then. *** Once breakfast was over, and Tony had smiled throughout as I suppose he realised I was squirming in my messy diaper and had no way of getting out of it on my own, he unzipped me and set me free. He asked if I needed any help but I shucked it all off (my diaper was a very soggy mess) and headed for the shower. On my return Tony was waiting with powder and lotion and explained that he could diaper me now or at the studio. I didn’t mind wearing a diaper to travel in so went along with his suggestion, and to save time later. As we drove to the studio I felt snug in the tight fitting disposable that Tony had put me in. The thick rubber pants I didn’t think were necessary but, he’d slipped them on me before I had chance to say anything and they gripped me nicely around the waist and legs. I hadn’t wanted to wear my work clothes again, for me those days were now over, and, Tony had leant me a t-shirt and a pair of rather short shorts, which bulged out pretty impressively thanks to my protection. As I sat in the passenger seat the shorts rode up my thigh and exposed the rubber pants beneath but, guess what, I had gotten used to such things so any embarrassment I might once have had… was now gone. *** The studio was done out like a huge nursery, with a large crib, playpen, and all manner of childish things, but made for bigger hands. I thought they must have raided a TV set to get all the stuff but, as Auntie Mary told us, everything that was seen could be bought from her site. She obviously had other talented people, carpenters, plastic technicians, all sorts who she could call upon to design and make up any special orders that her customers desired. The morning was spent with me getting naked. Auntie made sure I was hair free and even cut the hair on my head to suit her style. Baby, who was in a very sweet little romper outfit with bunnies and ducks all over it, was always around with his video camera, poking it at me and zooming in and out on various items. He never got in Tony’s way, he was very aware of what needed to be seen and Auntie, who was dressed as a British nanny (not unlike Mary Poppins), occasionally joined me in certain scenes. Often it was just her leg or a piece of her apron, or her boots or her hand if it was either helping or chastising me. She was also very hands on and actually did most of the changes herself, making sure the fit was just right for the garment and to make sure I had the correct babyish attitude to carry it all off. She’d rehearse me a couple of time before I stepped in front of the camera and was fastidious about getting the right amount of bulge, droop, bagginess, tightness, petulance… in fact… I retreated to my childhood on more than one occasion and complained loudly. She wanted that grouchiness on camera so Tony kept taking photos as she scolded me… she was a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it. *** Some of her outfits were way over the top for me, like all-in-one rubber affairs, but fitted with masks and zips that gave access to various parts of the body. There were items that had straps, chains and openings where items could be inserted. Some were hard-core fetish but I preferred the baby and toddler pieces best. I really couldn’t get enough of all the cleverly designed covers, bibs, all-in-ones, coveralls… and there were elements in the range that I hadn’t seen before that really took my breath away… and I found very erotic to wear. Mainly, it wasn’t just the eroticism of the clothes, although I had messed in my ‘special’ way on three occasions before I was done, it was the pleasure of regressing so easily and loving that feeling. I just hoped those who would be wearing any of this clothing in future would enjoy them as much as I had. The last bit of the shoot was of just me and Auntie Mary’s daughter Maddy having a baby’s tea party. I quickly realised that Tony had decided that he wanted us to recreate the same sort of pudding fight that we’d enjoyed the night before. I was wearing another bib and a thick diaper in a pink plastic cover that fastened with Velcro around my tummy. It could be pulled very tight so the overstuffed diaper was very evident. Maddy wore a short satin party dress that showed off her matching frilly satin knickers, which again were bloated by a thick diaper. The cream and chocolate sauce went everywhere but it was a very enjoyable bit of silliness all caught on camera for the site ‘bonus’ scheme. I licked the stuff off her plastic coated satin knickers and she licked it of my voluminous plastic pants. Auntie Mary was very encouraging until the final shot when she came in and I was put across her knee and spanked. I remember seeing the last shot online and it was a pan up from my red bottom to a sobbing me sucking my thumb and looking a very sad and sorry little boy indeed. *** The shoot finished and I didn’t know what to do. I have to say that there were many of the items I would have loved to add to my own closet but they would have cost a fortune. However, Auntie had made two items just for me. One was a pair of shorty pajamas that were festooned with cartoon cowboys, the shorts of which had studs along the crotch for undoing and changing a messy boy like me, and the satin sailor suit, again with easy release pop studs, that I’d worn the day before and that had had such an effect on me. I was grateful that Auntie had gone to so much trouble. Unknown to me, Tony had brought my work clothes with him, and after I’d cleaned up he suggested I go home and let my parents know what I’d been up to. Just what I told them was up to me but I had visions of me arriving home in my suit and happily wearing a thick over-stuffed diaper underneath. However, as he handed me some money, which I supposed was the fee for the shoot, although we’d never actually agreed a sum, he said that as I was still without a job, he’d put his feelers out and see if he couldn’t find me something… more permanent. *** I wasn’t in a rush to go home, not exactly scared but doubtful that I could carry off the lie I thought would be necessary. I ended up back at his place and he asked if I shouldn’t ring home and let them know what I was doing but before I had chance, he received a call on his cell from Michael who said he might have found something for me. Both seemed excited at the idea so I called home to tell them that the drinking session ended fine and I wasn’t in any trouble but that one of my friends thinks he’d found a possible job so I was staying over another night to check it out first thing in the morning. They were impressed by my determination. I was impressed with the thick diaper that Tony had made me wear as we watched TV and relaxed. I was expecting a glass of wine or some sort of celebration but Tony said that, when I was in a diaper there was to be no alcohol, no drugs (which was fine because I didn’t do that), no grown up programs and definitely… no sex. Thankfully it didn’t mean stewed peas and mashed rice, or whatever it is babies have to eat, however, it did mean I was in for another sexually frustrating night sleeping between these two hunks… but, thinking about that, I suppose it wasn’t all bad. *** tbc

Confession Update Part 3 I froze and was about to leap to my feet when Tony pushed me back down onto the bed and continued to diaper me. All my clothes were in the other room and I panicked thinking we were about to be robbed by a burglar. The man mountain stood in the bedroom doorway wearing dirty shorts, a t-shirts, thick boots and a leather utility belt around his waist. He was smiling; “Hi daddy.” Tony nodded acknowledgement. “I can see you’re busy. I don’t want to interrupt anything” he turned to go. “Come in and meet Daniel.” His rapid fingers never stopped as he quickly had the diaper fastened tightly in place and he introduced me to Michael his son. Being all but naked I felt a bit embarrassed as I just nodded and Tony pulled a pair of yellow plastic pants from the draw under the bed. Michael came over, kissed his father, and ruffled my hair in greeting. He looked a few years older than me, had red hair like I assumed his dad had before he started losing it and looked like he’d come straight from a building sight, which was just what he had done. After a few seconds this twenty-something dirty but healthy looking hunk began to undress and was down to his black sweaty briefs in moments. He stood watching whilst his father fastened the pop-studs on my new plastic pants into place. I was mesmerised by this new vision, Michael was a hunk of a man and, with him just wearing his briefs, had a similar effect on me as did the satin sailor-suit. I nearly lost it when, once I was completely installed in my clean protection, Michael looked at me and smiled, “Daddy always does a good job… you look fantastic.” He was as encouraging as his father and looked stunning, all dust covered, grimy and wearing just his black, sweaty CKs. “I’d better get a shower.” *** As this hunk of masculinity disappeared into the bathroom I gave Tony a sort of look which I hope said “tell me more”. I was nervous of asking outright as I didn’t want to appear nosey but he was a fine looking guy and of course, Tony hadn’t mentioned he lived with anyone else. Meanwhile, my host had gone to the closet and pulled out a couple of much larger disposables and retrieved a small bag that Mary had left. He spread the diapers out on the bed and busied himself getting the baby oil and powder ready. I was intrigued and wondered what was going to happen. Shortly after a clean, pink (it must have been a very hot shower) and naked Michael returned drying himself off. “Let daddy do that…” Tony said as he took the thick towel from his son’s hand and proceeded to dry his boy thoroughly. It was only then that I picked up on the fact that he was ‘daddy’ and not ‘dad’. For some reason I didn’t think a guy the age and size of Michael would still be calling his father ‘daddy’… it just didn’t seem to fit. However, it all became clear when Michael lay out on the bed and his daddy applied the oil and powder to a pube-free groin then lovingly fastened him into the diapers. There was a glowing smile on Tony’s face throughout the procedure and Michael appeared to be very happy with what was happening. Finally, Tony opened the bag from Mary and took out a new pair of rubber pants. “Auntie has made these especially for you…” and he slipped them up his sons immense thighs. Pulling them over the thickness of two disposables the gaily patterned rubber cover looked massive… and it has to be said… sweet. Tony appeared as happy as his son with the result. *** Once Michael was all done up in his protection Tony disappeared to do other things while we were left to talk. To begin with, the conversation was about Michael’s day at work – he was the foreman on a building site that was being developed. Then he was interested in how I met his daddy so I repeated my story of job loss and my shameful ogling at this stranger in the park. He thought that was very funny but had to agree that his daddy sure was one hot guy. He pointed to my diaper and asked how long had I been into it. I told him about my little brother and how it all began, which he found very interesting and he appeared genuinely sad when I explained why I didn’t do my ‘little side’ as much as I used to. It was really nice to sit and chat to someone my own age (nearly), dressed in diaper and plastic pants. Although physically we were completely different; me being 5’6” and a little over 100 pounds, and him being 24, six feet and solid muscle, we had a great deal in common. As we chatted we stroked each other’s diapers and protecting covers, we both loved the sexy lustre, the sensuous feel and the sense of comfort and safety that it all offered. He was about to tell me how it all began for him when Tony called us through for a meal. We’d been sat on the bed for the entire conversation and just before we moved off to eat Michael leaned in close and without warning kissed me gently on the cheek. My cock, which had been throbbing since the two of us had been sitting so close together, suddenly shot an uncontrollable load into my diaper as he whispered “Welcome to the family.” *** Tony was standing at the range cooking and looked unbelievably sexy, the light in the kitchen somehow picking up the lustrous quality of his pink plastic pants. They held him tightly but there was a small bulge around his bottom where his padding was pleasantly emphasised. Michael’s bottom was well-padded and he waddled toward the table, while I felt tight, but well protected, in my diaper. Neither of us wore anything else until the meal was served up – I was dreading it being jars of mushed baby food but thankfully it was grown up cuisine – then Tony offered us something else that Mary had made for him, a selection of plastic bibs. Each one contained an image of a cartoon character, mine was SpongeBob, Michael’s was from Disney’s Cars and Tony’s, who told us that this was going to be part of a new range that Auntie (from this point on Mary was always referred to as Auntie) was promoting online, was of Winnie The Pooh. Using the Velcro fasteners and feeling incredibly silly, we put them on and set about the meal. I was famished. I also have to say that even in their childish bibs and diapers both father and son were fantastic specimens of manhood and I craved what these two had. It’s true, I did begin to realise that there was something ‘different’ about their relationship, and as we tucked into the very tasty pasta dish Tony had prepared, Michael explained what had happened. *** Despite the fact that when I first saw Michael I’d been scared of his size and bearing, I now liked this incredibly gentle hulk. Anywhere else I would have been greatly intimidated by such a self-confident figure, but, as he explained, he wasn’t always that way. They were father and son in name only, not in any biological sense. Michael was Tony’s ‘boy’ and had been for just over 10 years since Tony had discovered a frightened 14 year-old huddled in the cold. The young Michael had been thrown out of his home for confessing to his parents that he was gay and, with nowhere to go, had sat forlornly shivering and scared not knowing what to do next. He explained very proudly what a saviour Tony had been to him and hated to think what would have happened if this particular kind stranger hadn’t offered a helping hand. As I listened to his story I couldn’t help but to ask if he hadn’t been suspicious of Tony’s actions… Michael smiled at the man who was clearly still a hero in his eyes and said “Oh yes.” He went on to explain that being a trembling terrified kid all he wanted at that particular moment was something to eat and a place to get warm. On hearing the boy’s story Tony had offered to talk with his parents, take him to a friendly relation or accompany him to the police. Michael wasn’t keen on any of these courses of action and thought the police would only return him to his parents or send him to some institution… so his options were few and none of them appealed any more than going with this nice man who at least had offered to help. The upshot was, on the insistence that he still attended school, he could stay with Tony and if anyone asked he was to say that his parents were having problems so he was staying with a relation for a while. Again my nosiness continued. “Did he… erm… did he you know… make you…” I suddenly got cold feet about my question. “Did we have sex… that’s what you want to know isn’t it?” Michael interrupted my pathetic probing. “Erm…” “No.” He said emphatically. “Sex has never been a huge part of our relationship... and certainly not at that age… although it is a part now… but we have so much more…” *** The conversation continued and I was amazed at just how brave (and selfless) Tony had been by taking on such a young lad. Both dealt with my questions with humor, shyness and perhaps an outdated concept… love. I was slightly embarrassed about my intrusion so changed and lightened the subject to ask. “How about the diapers?” Tony had sat all but silent throughout my interrogation but their hands had touched and I could see the bond between them had not diminished over the time they’d been together. “Well that was… a bit weird.” Michael had brightened up a bit to tell this part of the tale. “One afternoon I arrived home from school and there at the kitchen counter was Tony dressed in nothing but a diaper.” He smiled at the thought. “I wondered if something had happened… or that he was having a joke… he was always joking with me… when he said it was something he liked to do.” “One of my many… many… many little quirks,” Tony confessed. “When I asked him why,” Michael continued, “he said he found it very comforting. It reminded him of a time when all was gentle, soft and loving… and he occasionally liked to relive those moments.” “Ah… happy days,” Tony said in mock wistfulness. “He’s taken it to new levels now… with Auntie and him and the ABDL crowd… but… despite my initial horror at the thought, within a couple of days… I wanted to give it a go myself.” They touched hands again. “So, one night, after a lovely relaxing hot bath I asked him if I could… you know… try it.” “I told him I’d be happy to but, he was under no obligation to spend any time dressed in a diaper if he didn’t want,” chipped in Tony. “I wanted him to enjoy the sensation but, if he didn’t get it, then that would be an end to it all.” *** “I wasn’t sure how to put the damn thing on so I asked Tony if he would do the honors. He had me lay out on the bed, powdered that area and folded a piece of cloth into a triangle.” “It was a piece of thick terry cloth… he looked both terrified and intrigued,” Tony added “but I pulled it up between his spread legs and pinned it tightly into place. Then pulled him to his feet and asked him how it felt.” Michael took over again. “It was weird… yet after a few faltering and waddling moments… I got it… I actually did love the feeling of being caressed by this enormous diaper and, as we watched TV together, I fell asleep still wearing it.” “Eventually I carried him still dozing back to his bed, tucked him in, kissed him goodnight and didn’t hear from him again until the morning.” “It was a great night’s sleep. After that, I wore them for bed on more occasions and before I knew it, I was changing out of my school clothes the moment I got home and insisted that I be put into a diaper.” “This was like… a month after he came to live with me and, I have to say, he had never seemed happier.” Tony added. “I just loved it… and when we started adding plastic pants and colourful covers, I became even happier, it was like I’d found something, something special for daddy and me…” I picked up on the word again, “So was that when you started calling him ‘daddy’?” “Yes… I suppose it was. I wanted to give the man who had literally saved me something back. I had nothing other than my love to give him but I thought calling him ‘daddy’, especially when I was in my protection… was my… that was… erm… recognising his… erm… influence on my life.” Michael may have been a muscular hunk now but he spoke in shy admiration about the man in his life. They looked across at each other again and that ‘childish’ term, accentuated by the colourful cartoon bibs, seemed to have a very strong bond between them. Ten years on and Michael would do anything for his ‘daddy’ and of course, Tony would do anything for his ‘son’… and they both appeared to have developed their ABDL side as I was soon to find out. *** tbc

Confession Update Part 2 I was ‘softly dozing’. I can’t put it any other way – I was at that point between sleep and being awake but it felt, well it felt, peaceful. I was aware of what was going on. I was still sucking, I was still being gently rocked and I was conscious of the fact that I was being cuddled, wearing a diaper, on a strangers lap, yet none of that seemed to matter. My wellbeing floated through my body as sweetly as the milk slipped down my throat – all nice and warming. As I ‘softly dozed’ I wondered more about Tony and the ease in which he’d taken control and I’d acquiesced without so much as a seconds thought. I think, in possibly any other circumstances, I would have run a mile from an old man in a diaper but there I was, unbelievably happy and with that man cooing softly, stroking my naked leg and making me feel I was in the safest place in the world. As I’ve gotten older myself, and the fact that I still live in my parent’s home, opportunities to regress were getting fewer and fewer. It wasn’t that mom and dad were always on the lookout for some quirk or abnormality I may have, but now that my younger brother David had gone off to university, I was the object of their parental attention. Despite the fact that I never felt under pressure from them to ‘change my ways’, I had, in my own way, been trying to wean myself off my love of diapers. I’d more or less stopped wearing them to work (thus the Hanes I’d been wearing) and it was rare for me to even sleep in a diaper, even though I found it very comforting, especially if I’d been stressed at work. So, this feeling I was experiencing in the arms of Tony, was soothing, joyful and intense. *** Inevitably the milk ran out and, as I was softly sucking in air, real life returned and invaded my brain. It was nice being where I was but I had to face reality; I was without a job and my prospects of gaining another were very poor. I looked sleepily into Tony’s eyes and whispered my thanks and made to rouse myself to go home and set about searching the net for jobs as soon as I could. He let me rise and patted my padded bottom and again praised the way I looked. I smiled sweetly and wished that that was enough to get me a new job, his reply was he was sure it would. As I searched around for my suit and tie and all the other stuff that meant I was a ‘responsible’ working man, I really didn’t want to take off what I had on. Those few hours that Tony had granted me were just about the best I’d experienced for quite some time and I was in no hurry to lose that feeling. Whilst I’d been gathering my clothes together he’d been on his cell and was talking to someone. He saw me about to remove the plastic pants but asked me to halt doing anything else until he’d finished his call. I stood in his living room all-but-naked and waited for him to tell me what was going on. When he returned he said he had some news which he hoped I’d be open to. *** “Do you have any qualms about what type of work you do?” He queried as he came back in to the main living room. “Not really.” I shrugged my shoulders, “I’m not particularly bright, my brother David got my brains,” I added with another shrug and knowing full well that academia hadn’t failed me, I’d failed it. “So apart from tutoring Stephen Hawking… I’m up for anything.” He laughed at my silly joke. “Well, the news is, I’ve found you a job.” I raised my eyebrows as he went on. “What about a little bit of modelling?” “Yep. I can walk and I can wear clothes so…” I shrugged again. “Oh, unless you mean building something…” but this time he shook his head and said that it would be photographic modelling. He explained that the shop downstairs, which sold baby clothes, was run by his sister and that she didn’t only make baby clothes… well she did… but she also made them for adult babies. He was full of praise for her talents and how she’d built up her business, on her own and from scratch, to being quite a successful enterprise. She now employed three women full time who made all the original clothes, both for babies and adults, she sold in her shop. However, and this was where I came in, she was about to put her new line of ABDL stuff online and on his suggestion, he’d convinced her to use a real model rather than have her items ‘lifeless’ on a dummy. He’d already sent a clip of me crawling around in the diaper he’d filmed earlier and she thought I would be ideal. His suggestion was that I – “Live out some of my fantasies and get paid for it”. *** I had my doubts. To actually be seen wearing baby stuff, well that was different than slipping something on before bedtime… wasn’t it? Tony agreed that it would be a brave thing to do but asked if I was ashamed of it all. I wasn’t sure how to answer because in some ways I was and in others I didn’t care what anyone else thought. As we talked things got clearer in my mind. Whether he convinced me or I had convinced myself I didn’t know but I agreed, thinking that really, I was without a job, chances of finding a job were slim and I’d be foolish to turn down any opportunity. I wondered if I could do the shoot wearing a mask. Tony said that some of the items did have masks as part of the design but he would suggest that if I wore a mask the entire shoot, it would look like I was very ashamed of what I was doing, and that wasn’t the image the AB shop wanted to promote. And besides he added, “Babies are never ashamed, there job is to look cute and be themselves.” His sister, Mary, was on her way up to chat about what was expected and what I’d be asked to wear. As we waited I asked him about the art that was surrounding us. He explained that he loved to encourage new artists, as he’d encouraged his talented sister, and was never happier than when he discovered a new talent, especially if they created something he actually liked. He said that sometimes he’d buy an object just to help the artist out, even if it was awful. He laughed that on those occasions his friends were very surprised with the gift they received for birthdays or Christmas and didn’t know whether to complain or be ecstatic. He always told them to keep it for a few years, as the value would increase. This promise, he told me, always seemed to work. Mary arrived with a bunch of stuff and asked me to try some of it on so she could make alterations should they be needed. She told me to keep the diaper on as I would be wearing something similar for most of the shoot and helped me in and out of a myriad of outfits. Onesies, shorty pajamas, plastic, rubber, satin diapers and covers, coveralls, sailors suits, romper pants… there were loads and loads of items that, to be honest, got me more and more excited about the shoot. Mary was enthusiastic and said that her daughter Maddy would also be joining me for a few of the photos where we were to be seen playing together. I couldn’t wait. *** We were still trying items on and checking stuff when I realised it was past the time I’m normally home. As the shoot was scheduled to start early the next morning Tony offered me a bed for the night, which I eagerly accepted. In my mind I had a fantasy of us going at it like rabbits, although so far, no real moves had been made by him. I called mom to tell her that I’d lost my job but that I was on the trail of another and that I planned on staying at a friend’s overnight as we were going out for a consoling piss up. She sympathised about my lost my job but warned me of getting too drunk and getting into trouble. This supportive style of mom’s always put me at ease so I assured her I wouldn’t. I don’t like lying to my family but I thought that the truth wasn’t an option, certainly at that moment, so I fudged the issue and hoped that it would all work out fine. As I tried on each unique piece of clothing I could only agree with Tony that Mary was a very talented woman. With each outfit I was mesmerised at the detail and workmanship, which she graciously credited to her small but talented workforce. There was no denying that once her designs hit the net, her clothing was going to be in huge demand. The problem I had was that I couldn’t wait to get started and each ensemble made me feel happily childish… but with a boner. I was very excited. However, the thick diaper I was wearing probably hid that particular fact from anyone else. *** Suddenly, it all became too much to bear. Mary had just removed my plastic pants and had slid a pair of blue satin panties back up to replace them. The silky soft feel caressed my legs and I could feel my dick straining inside the confines of my thick diaper. She then pulled a matching top over my head and the sensuously soft material, rippling down my naked skin had a similar effect… and I erupted. All the sensations seemed to conspire together and left me inwardly moaning and, without so much as a helping caress, my pulsating dick did what it had been waiting to do all day. At the moment of orgasm I closed my eyes and tried to stifle the scream of ecstasy that I’d felt building as each item of clothing had been slipped into place. In my head I’d been able to hide what was happening very well but when I opened my eyes, Mary and Tony both had huge grins on their faces. Mary was the first to comment. “I hope my clothes have the same effect on the customers,” she laughed, “I take that as a glowing and unsolicited testimonial.” “I wish I’d had the camera for that…” Tony glowed with humor and pride, “now that would have been something to put online.” “I’m so sorry.” I stammered. “But these clothes are… well… a real turn on. I couldn’t help myself. I am really ashamed.” “Don’t be.” They both chimed in together as I hoped the ground would open up and swallow me. “It really is the best kind of endorsement we can have. The girls will be thrilled when I tell them.” Mary said as she straightened the sailor inspired, blue satin romper-suit in position. Guiltily I looked up at the thought that others would soon be sharing my shame but both were adamant that it was all good. Afterward, as I tried on even more of her fabulous designs, their reassurances were helpful and positive. *** Once Mary had finished with all the alterations, measurements and had discussed the shoot with Tony (he would be the photographer) she left with arms full of items to be prepared for the following day. I was left wearing just my thick, now damp, diaper and Tony had, during the many costume changes, traded up into a pop-studded pink rubber diaper cover that hugged him very tightly. He was very pleased with the way things had gone and was enthusing about what he was going to do regarding scenarios at the photo studio. It was hard not to feel as motivated as he was and we were both excited at the prospect of what we were about to do. Remembering that I’d messed my diaper (and in truth a bit later I had also wet myself) Tony suggested that he should change me. We went to his bedroom and I happily let him take charge. He unpinned and removed my soggy diaper. His eyebrows rose as he noticed the amount that I’d deposited in the thing and smiled when he commented that I really had been excited. He wiped me down, oiled and powdered me and went to retrieve a diaper from a huge stack of disposables but, as he did so, the door opened and in walked a mountain of a man. *** tbc